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#A lot of his features I took from his attributes
ioniczach · 8 months
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Gonna ramble about my Malk now. His name is Zayne Cooper. He's (now perpetually) 27.
He's a skinny guy with short, thick, yet slightly unkempt, brown hair. Not Tall, but not short either (Around 5'8). Clean shaven, with a face that could be described as "handsome," "cute," or "welcoming," with a clear, piercing and analytical gaze that seems to take in his surroundings. His eyes are strange in that his eyes are different colors, the left one hazel and the right one green. Usually seen wearing an olive drab military style jacket with a constantly popped collar, jeans, red high top sneakers (Converses), glasses, and graphic tee shirts. 
He's a (now former) graduate student of Psychology, he was studying to be a psychiatrist and was, around the time of his embrace (like a week and a half ago game time), working towards his doctorate. His hobbies included, playing video games, playing the guitar, reading (especially mystery novels), and doing some light writing. A couple of years before the events of the Chronicle he had suffered a severe illness that left him bedridden for a loooooooong time, which he still hasn't fully regained his strength from. We're only 2 sessions in but so far the plan is his bane is he suffers from moments of intense intrusive thoughts, audio and visual hallucinations that basically act as mental radio interference and make it hard for him to think. (Malk Bane stuff, -1 to mental rolls when suffering a Bestial Failure/Compulsion)
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punksocks · 7 months
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Astrology Observations No.26
(Just based on my opinions, only take what resonates)
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-Aquarius mars can denote a career around trends, tech, and social media. It can also denote your career taking off during times of social progress or spearheading social progress. (John Boyega’s career took off when he became the face of a much more diverse Star Wars, and a lot of his most celebrated roles have a social consciousness to them, pretty great if I do say so myself)
-Virgo venus gets the reputation of being picky in relationships (and they are) but I feel like Sagittarius Venus can be more fickle. Virgo Venus natives have a set of standards and attributes they’re looking for, but Sagittarius Venus natives will put you on a pedestal then knock you off of it when you do something they don’t like.
-Underdeveloped Gemini Venus will ghost you in the middle of a crisis (man Pisces Venus too, but they may feel bad about it lol)
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-When it comes to a sense of justice, I feel as though (developed) Scorpio moons give everyone a run for their money
-I feel like Aquarius in big 3 (sun, moon, rising) can often find themselves being forced to be humanitarian/being made to work toward the greater good in some situations (to lend others money, to take care of friends/family, to befriend someone lonely, etc.) I feel like these placements often can be forced to give more of themselves than they are comfortable with (developed ones will often find a great sense of joy in connecting with others through care though)
-On the other hand I feel like Leo in the big 3 can find themselves being forced to pay attention to themselves/become the center of attention (elevated at a job for their hard work, given unexpected attention for a talent, etc.) With Leo placements I notice that in their home life or childhood they may not receive the attention they need, but early on they get attention from outsiders. So they end up going through this arch of getting more comfortable with their sense of self and being in the spotlight.
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-Aries placements can often be the first in their family to do something (go to college, start a business, etc) without more long term oriented placements things like businesses may not last though
-Virgo/Gemini/3rd/6th house placements and having an absolute weakness for stationary lol (I have a 3rd house Stellium and I have to force myself not to buy a sketchbook or notebook every time I’m out, with a 40% success rate lol)
-I always expect Libra placements (especially sun/Asc/Venus/mars) to have a very blonde/fair/delicate features naturally but a lot of Libras have this gothic look, like raven hair ivory skin classic beauty (and a lot of PoC I follow with Libra placements can be much darker skinned, which is also a beautifully classic look)
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-I think Jupiter and Saturn count towards your personality, but since they’re slower moving planets I view them as the bridge between the asc/sun/moon/mercury/Venus/mars placements that really directly define your personality and the generational planets that show up in traits across people in your age range (but effect everyone differently because of house placements and aspects)
-Do a lot of people get sick during Scorpio season? Or is it just me ?? (During the last week of Scorpio season like 6 people I knew got sick at the same time and I had a medical thing, wtf it’s uncanny)
-I think Neptune in Capricorn is a big reason that depression became such a focal point for younger millennials and elder gen z- well that and late stage capitalism but yknow. (Capricorns being prone to depression, and Neptune ruling over mental illness)
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-You may show more of the traits of the sign in your 12th house when inebriated (like sun in 12th may be more outgoing when they drink, moon in 12th may be more introverted/emotional, mercury in 12th may be more chatty and inquisitive, Venus in 12th may be more charming/romantic, mars in 12th may be more aggressive/antagonistic/s*xual)
-Mars in 12th/Pisces mars may find that unresolved tension sits on their subconscious and makes it hard for them to do other tasks
-Cancer over the houses can show where you feel at home (cancer in the 4th is super loyal to their family/mother, cancer in the 7th means you feel at home with a nurturing partner, cancer in the 9th means you feel at home abroad and traveling and with other communities or with religion, cancer in 11th means you feel super at home with your friends.)
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prettyoatmeal · 1 year
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley Headcanons While You're Dating
I figured this would be kinda cute since I've only written for König. Switching it up just a little bit since I think the 141 boys are cuties <3
I know this is quite long too, I'm sorry I had a lot of thoughts I wanted to get out!!!!!
There will be both SFW and NSFW with a GN reader (they/them pronouns) ^^ Enjoy!
GENRE: Fluff, smut after NSFW cut
WARNINGS: Mentions of Ghost's childhood
Masterlist here!
***************
You'd needed to be the one to tell him how you'd felt first. Simon wasn't one to open up about his emotions and mostly tried to ignore and bottle up his feelings, so he never would've been able to gain that courage to tell you first.
When you did tell him, he became super flustered behind that mask of his. You normally called him by his alias and never really used his actual name, so he knew what you were going to say would've been serious.
"Hey, Simon? I think I like you. And I understand if you don't feel the same way, I just figured I should tell you sooner than later."
...
"Simon..?"
He would let out a flustered grumble of "Yeah yeah,, I like you too." and you two would slowly, but surely, warm up to each other more.
He'd be a very gentle lover. Just the thought of him hurting you, even by accident, made him violently ill.
Ghost wouldn't be one to be touchy very early on in you guys' relationship, he kept a lot to himself and you respected that. At times you would hold back from trying to hug him, or hold his hand, or anything, but you didn't mind. You wanted to make sure he was comfortable.
He'd soon realised you were the cuddly, touchy type, so he'd begin making moves like wrapping his arm around your waist or linking his pinkie with yours while you were walking. Just those small touches alone would make your knees weak.
Simon faced a lot of trauma in his childhood so he had trouble opening up to you at first. Once he did start opening up to you, he realised he didn't need to ignore his feelings for once. You made him feel safe.
>:'(( he loves you so much.
He'd call you all the usual pet names such as 'my love', 'darling', 'sweetheart', etc.
You'd often be the only thing on his mind when he'd be on missions or back in the barracks.
He'd always keep a printed photograph of you in a pocket somewhere so he could remember who he was fighting for.
When he'd be upset, he'd always pull that photo out just to look at it. Just seeing your face brought him immense comfort.
His love language would definitely be acts of service. He'll gladly cook a nice meal for you, or tell you to sit down and relax so he could take care of the cleaning.
However, it goes both ways. You'll pack him a lunch for the day He'd be on his knees. Make his bed for him if he were to be too busy? He'll completely melt. It's those little things.
His father didn't care all that much for him as a child coming from an abusive household, essentially needing to take care of himself. Having that someone to pack him a lunch and look after him in such a way made him feel loved and safe.
Of course he'd never take his mask off in front of you. He never took it off for anyone, there were no hard feelings. He preferred his anonymity and you are completely okay with it.
You never asked to see him without the mask because
well,
you just didn't. That was his privacy and you weren't one to invade it unless he would offer or if he were to be ready.
You two were both very patient with each other and that helped build a healthy and trustful relationship.
You also didn't mind not knowing what he really looked like. You first fell in love with who he was as a person, not his physical attributes.
When he did show you what he looked like unmasked, it was ironically during a make-out session.
(He low-key planned it out)
"Bloody hell, this thing is getting in the way." He'd say as the balaclava kept slipping down and shielding his lips from yours.
Thats when he finally pulled the felt which covered his features off, taking you by surprise.
The face-paint was still there, but his beautiful features were completely exposed to you.
He definitely got flustered at just how much you were examining his face.
"You look like you've seen a Ghost, darling."
That snapped you out of it, earning a chuckle from you before you two were sucking each others faces off again without that irritation from the fabric.
While nothing was said in the moment, by the time you two were done, you'd already begun to gush about how handsome he looked. You'd cup his face in your hands like he would to you and place kisses on his nose, forehead, cheeks, everywhere. He'd just look away in embarrassment.
"Yeah, yeah, take a picture, it'll last longer... PLEASE DON'T-"
The hard, confident Simon you knew became a blushy idiot and you loved it.
He was your Simon
__________________
NSFW
Before you two had any 'alone time' together, he'd always make sure there's a large water bottle or an electrolyte drink on the bedside table because, man, his guy has a lot of stamina and a high sex drive.
He could easily shoot a some loads into you over the course of a couple of hours.
You couldn't count how many times he'd make you cum over those few hours as you'd be a babbling mess by the end of it. No thoughts, just getting dicked down.
He wasn't exactly rough, but definitely not gentle. He'll be pounding into you like it was your last nights together for a while. And yeah, sometimes it was, so you two would need to make the most of it.
He wasn't one to inflict physical pain to you either unless it was the occasional slap on the ass or thighs.
He was one to grab onto you though. He'll grab onto any piece of your body he can.
Doggy? Bent over a table? Riding? He'll be digging his fingers into your fleshy hips.
Steamy make-out session? Or just feeling possessive? He'll gladly grab onto your thighs or wrap his arms around your waist.
The boy loves holding onto you, especially when he's in heat, leaving maybe just a few red marks from him gripping onto you so tightly. Maybe even a few scratch marks.
Missionary would definitely be his favourite position.
He'd be able to stare into that pretty face of yours for eternity if his life depended on it.
Missionary also lets him hold your hand as he pounds you into the mattress. The feeling of you squeezing his hand as tightly as you can while you cum makes him go absolutely feral.
Simon wouldn't make all that much noise in bed. Though when he's feeling desperate, he can't shut himself up. He'll let out soft moans and groans and growls into your ear just to let you know how good you're making him feel.
He also would love seeing your mouth full of his cock. The faces you'd make up at him as it slides down you throat could make him cum instantly.
Moan his name and he will also cum instantly.
"Oh, fuck- Simon~!"
He'll start pounding into you like never before, chasing both of your orgasms.
He’ll always make sure that you’re left satisfied. No point in pounding into you if you’re not going to be enjoying it the entire time.
He'd probably cum a lot too. Thick strands would shoot inside you or into your mouth, struggling to stay inside. He'd probably have a thing for pushing his fingers inside your hole to make sure his cum stays inside you.
He's a top and a soft dom so he'd have a bit of trouble getting used to bottoming and/or subbing. He wouldn't turn it away, not for you. But it would need some getting used to for him.
If he's subbing, you could very easily get him to start begging once he gets lost in the pleasure. Though he'd definitely feel embarrassed after. He's a grown, dominant, military man who engages in the most brutal and gore-y activities. He wouldn't have ever believed himself a couple of years back if the future Simon had told him he'll be begging his partner to let him cum as they jerked him off in the slowest, most torturous way.
If you two hadn't seen each other in a while, he'd be pushing you against the wall in an instant with your thighs on either side of him. He'd be practically begging you again to let him fuck you, and you'd of course let him.
Breeding kink? For sure. He LOVES to cum inside you and fill you up.
"F-Fucking hell, look at you, doll, completely stuffed." He'll say as he cums into you for the third or fourth time that night. Your entire body would for sure be shaking at that point.
Of course he’d be affected by the overstimulation as some point as well, he’d begin stuttering every now and again each time his cock would throb inside you.
He'd slam into you with such force, you'll be sobbing tears of pleasure by the time you two were done.
You'll often become extremely tired from sex from the sheer amount of stamina this man has, it can't be said enough.
This man will gladly take you to your limit, but the moment you show signs of passing out or feeling unwell, he'll stop and make sure you're okay, giving you some water and something to boost your blood sugar so you’re not passing out on him. He's not one to take such advantage of you while you're unconscious, and you respect him a lot for that.
Post-sex includes so much cuddling. He'll apologise for accidentally hurting you or if he was too rough and make sure you're all cleaned up and had water before you two head to bed or for a nap.
Post-morning-sex would include him bringing breakfast to you in bed which you thought was the most adorable thing ever.
Your legs would be jelly by the time you two were done, so just trying to make it to the bathroom would be a whole challenge.
Simon would always either carry you or provide you will that stability, it was sweet. He'd hold onto your waist as tightly as he could to make sure you wouldn't fall while your knees would give in.
He was very buff so it would be pretty easy to keep you from falling to the ground.
He'll make sure you're all squeaky clean, hydrated, and fed before anything else.
He truely was the best boyfriend you could ask for.
***************
I loved writing this so much, I'm about to go scream into my pillow. Goodnight, everyone <3
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cacoetheswriting · 10 days
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celebrity skin. (part nine)
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.6k summary: an album release forces some feelings and conversations — one thing's for sure though, Eddie will always be thinking about you.
content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of blackmail — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!
& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.
celebrity skin. masterlist
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“We are here this morning with a true music icon in the making, who’s hits like Compromising Positions and most recently Honesty took the world by storm. Now, Eddie Munson is just a few short days away from releasing his sophomore album with his Corroded Coffin bandmates, Assistance is Futile. Welcome to Eddie Munson everybody, yes!”
“Happy to be here, Charles.”
Good Morning America was definitely not the type of talk show the rockstar pictured himself ever getting invited on. He didn’t think his personal style, or the music he was putting out there with the band, would be something the producers would welcome. Considering especially the whole thing was televised live. No cuts, no edits, no take backs. Whatever is said remains out there forever. Quoted and interpreted until the next schmuck makes a fool of himself.
Hosts, Charles Gibson and Joan Lunden, were also known to be quite blunt with their guests. Blunt, but not in the rude sense of the word. Given their history on the network, their experience, they're simply good at what they do, which sometimes means effortlessly picking at a topic until they get a satisfactory reaction or better yet, television worthy answer. Of course there’s always a list of pre-agreed questions, carefully discussed with management and PR teams, but things have known to… slip out.
But Marianne trained him. Extensively. She flew out to New York the second this interview was arranged and spent hours in Eddie’s penthouse hotel room going over details that to most people, people not from this world, may seem minor: how to sit, how to smile, what to laugh at, the amount of seconds it should take him to answer a question. The list goes on. And now she was here, at the studio, to make sure Eddie saw a friendly face in the crowd. Someone to look at in case he got flustered at any point during the fifteen minute round.
“Before we get into the nitty gritty,” Joan begins, crossing one knee over the other, “Eddie, why don’t you tell us a little about how you and the band first got started?”
So Eddie talks. He’s charming as he tells the story, sparing a few details ‘cause he knows he doesn’t have a lot of time. He does however, crack a few jokes, including one about the list of names Gareth and Jeff brought to him one night before they all agreed on Corroded Coffin. Charles laughs before asking the next question about the band's success so far, and what he makes of it.
“Oh man, it’s so insane,” Eddie answers truthfully, “I still have days where I don’t think any of this is real. All of us in the band feel incredibly lucky, for sure.” He nods along as he speaks.
Joan and Charles take turns asking a few more general questions about the band plus the other members who couldn’t make it out today, before settling on the whole reason Eddie agreed to do this interview in the first place: promotion for the new album.
Assistance is Futile was a collection of songs about you — but that was not going to be an answer he gives today, accidentally or otherwise. Instead, the rockstar focuses attention on how the record was built. Technical language that he dumbs down slightly to make sure he’s continuously captivating his audience (Marianne’s advice). He tells them what instruments the group played around with that may not have featured on their last album, which was more classic rock than this new project. And he’s excited as he talks. Passionate.
He continues to lay out the facts. List the number of tracks it features, eleven plus two bonus songs on the extended version. He talks about the writing process, still carefully avoiding mentioning the influence. He won’t say he wrote them all during the aftermath of your breakup. He hasn’t even admitted that to you, despite the fact that you spent every waking moment together since the afternoon at Cove City Sound Studios. He knows he won’t be able to hide that for much longer, but until the album comes out and you hear the songs for yourself, he’ll keep it to himself because things have been so… great.
Sure, things weren’t back to normal. It can’t be the way it was until Eddie finds the time to speak with your management and nip this whole evil grandmother blackmail thing in the bud. At least he’s got you in some capacity. He gets to talk to you again, laugh with you. He gets to hug you, kiss you, touch you. Friends with benefits, or whatever the term is. Eddie’s just glad to be around you.
“Now, here at the studio, we got an exclusive, sneak peak listen to Assistance is Futile, and there’s a little bit of speculation between the crew about the meaning behind some of the songs.”
Boom. There it is. The dreaded topic. And it was going so well.
“Care to share where the inspiration for these lyrics struck you? Who, in particular, they might be about?”
Eddie smiles. “Give into the charade”, Marianne’s words ring in his ears, “But by any means, don’t confirm their suspicions”. Not an easy task. A slippery slope by all accounts. He ever so slightly glances in the direction of his manager who nods her head to show encouragement.
“Who do you think they’re about, Joan?” Eddie bounces the question back.
The presenter smiles. She knows she shouldn’t say. Yes, it would be good for ratings, but bringing up your name is not something that can be done lightly. She knows that. Hence why Joan hoped Eddie Munson wouldn’t be smart enough to avoid the initial question. But the rockstar’s been trained and he’s not about to mess up with two minutes to spare.
“Well, I’d say my friend Charles here. He’s got, what was that one lyric, legs for days and a wicked smile.” Joan deflects. Ever the professional.
The whole studio starts laughing. Eddie joins in, satisfied with the way this worked out. 
“You’d be right on the money there, Joan.” The rockstar nods with a wide smile before continuing, “Charles Gibson has been a constant inspiration for Corroded Coffin songs. There’s not a lot to do in Hawkins, where we grew up. Gotta write what you know and my uncle has an affinity for this show.” 
He turns to the camera to say hi to Wayne, “I know you’re watching.”
Then shifts to look at the hosts once more, winking at the gentleman sitting across from him.
“Charles, you sexy devil, you.”
The laughter continues. People start to clap, whistle along to Eddie’s perfectly curated response. Marianne is beaming with pride because for a brief moment, she didn’t think he could do it. There've been so many mishaps in the past, wild things the band — the curly-haired frontman in particular — have done that she’s had to either smooth over with the media or keep hidden from the public altogether. This morning she finally exhaled. He did well.
You’re laughing too. Feeling proud too as you watch him through your television screen, just like you promised Eddie you would.
Blanket covering your body, all the way up to your chin, as you sit comfortably on the couch. The smile on your face is as genuine as they come. He’s so good at this. Considering how nervous he was, how much time he spent with Marianne going over every possible scenario until his head hurt. You took a mental note to tell him later that he really had nothing to worry about. He’s a natural.
The question about his inspiration for the album didn’t surprise you. It’s pretty standard for these types of press junkets. Even more given the fact your relationship has been the talk of the town for months, especially when the two of you weren’t even together. People love to speculate.
When Eddie told you about the upcoming album, one night after you came down from another intense orgasm, you assumed he wrote about your relationship — especially the failures. Honesty came to the rockstar after only one night. Makes sense that a complete record would be next. He didn’t confirm it though, because you didn’t ask. You would know once it came out, when you purchased your own copy to listen through. Artists supporting artists, and whatnot.
“Corroded Coffin’s Assistance is Futile. Coming to a record store near you, this Thursday, October 14.” Charles Gibson announces, holding up a shiny compact disc to one of the cameras, showing off the album’s cover art: a thundering night sky, with something sinister looming inside the blood red clouds. An ode to the band's Dungeons & Dragons days.
“Eddie Munson, thank you for your time today.” Joan Lunden flashes a pearly white smile.
The rockstar returns the expression. “Thank you for having me.”
Backstage, Eddie gives Marianne a big hug. Thanking her for being here. While returning the embrace, she reassures him that’s never going to change. “Or at least until the contract ends,” his manager teases and ruffles his already wild hair before sitting down on the velvet sofa.
“So, tell me, am I flying back to LA alone?”
Eddie picks up a bag of previously opened Funyuns before leaning against the vanity. He shuffles the remainder of the onion-flavoured corn chips inside the plastic, then starts eating them, one by one.
“Yeah,” he says, shrugging as if it was an obvious answer. “We’ve got the release party for the album. The guys would kill me if I missed it.”
“I’d kill you first.”
He smirks. “Then why ask me the question?”
Marianne gives him a pointed look. One that says, no, screams, he of all people should know why. Eddie got on a private plane to New York so he could “sort something out”, then ended up staying for weeks longer than intended with no explanation. Marianne called him at the hotel multiple times, asking for a return day, but he always gave a vague answer. Then Gareth called, as did Jeff (who sort of already suspected the reason for the delayed homecoming, kudos to Holly), but Eddie continued on the road of avoidance, all while Page Six posted about sightings of him with a certain pop sensation.
“Eddie, you haven’t been this happy since—”
“I know,” he interrupts, “I know and yes, to whatever you’re thinking, but I don’t wanna talk about it now because there’s something I need to do first.”
“What do you need to do?” She asks, puzzled because in the time they’ve worked together, the rockstar has never once left her out of action. She did everything for him. That was her job. One she did gladly because she’s grown to care for these boys.
Eddie sighs, wiping his crumb covered hands on the material of his trousers. The bag of chips lays empty on the table next to him. Of course he contemplated telling Marianne everything on multiple occasions, but each time he chickened out at the last minute. He knew she could fix everything in the blink of an eye. Simply, the rockstar just didn’t feel worthy of that. 
His entire life, Eddie ran away. From situations, from people, from feelings. Anything that was messy, or just became messy. He ran until the distance felt comfortable enough to continue with his life. Growing up in Hawkins, he didn’t have a Marianne. He didn’t have anyone that would stand up for him, so running became second nature. Running fixed his problems. 
By the time the band hit stardom, running turned to escapism in the form of drugs and alcohol. The bubble. Under the influence, the rockstar didn’t care who cleaned up after him and Marianne was so good at her job that most of the time, Eddie didn’t even know there was a problem to run from until it was resolved.
The situation with your grandmother however, was different. It involved you. 
He gave into his instincts and ran. Only this time, Eddie ran to protect you. Threats were made to potentially ruin your career — fucked up, considering the person that made them was also the person who helped kick-start your fame. And as selfish as he may seem to people that don’t know the real him, the rockstar wasn’t willing to gamble everything you built for yourself. He ran.
But Eddie was done running. He was going to fix this and he planned on doing it alone.
“What’s going on?” Marianne stands and takes a step closer, crossing her arms. Concern is starting to fill her veins, though she’s trying her best not to show it. Trying and failing.
Maybe solving this alone wasn’t the way to go.
“Someone’s been blackmailing me,” he admits eventually, reluctantly. 
“What?!” Marianne just about shouts. “Who? For how long?”
“It’s uh…. It’s a complicated story.”
“Well, fuck.” She’s slightly annoyed ‘cause how could he have hidden something like this from her? This is why the band has her. Managing them, planning shit to maintain their career is only a small part of her job. Protecting these boys is a priority and blackmail is a big fucking deal.
Exhaling, Marianne lets her arms drop and proceeds to take a much less confrontational stance. 
“Eddie, you know I’ve always got nothing but time for you, so spill.”
And he does. Starting right at the beginning with Chrissy Cunningham.
-
When Eddie stops by your place later that afternoon, he kisses you, the second you open up your apartment. He kisses you fully, deeply. He’s kicking the door closed with his boot, lips continually locked together, his hands holding you firmly by the waist. A man on a mission and the mission being to make you feel like you're floating all the damn time. 
You smile against his soft lips. Mission accomplished.
“That’s one way to say hello.”
“Hello,” he whispers back, also smiling. “How was your morning?”
“Not nearly as interesting as yours,” you answer his question and turn in your spot, wanting to lead him to the couch. Eddie’s hands remain on your waist as you do so, no inclination of letting go.
MTV is on. The wild-haired rockstar instantly feels at home — a stark contrast to that first night he showed up at your door. Adrenaline pumping. Unsure of the outcome. But it was better than he could’ve imagined, dreamed. Back in your arms with little to no arguments. Back where he for sure belonged.
Honesty comes on. The video makes him smile as he effortlessly pulls your legs over his thighs, hand settling on your soft flesh and giving it a gentle squeeze. The memory of that day with you on set. Eddie wouldn’t call it acting. Hugging you, kissing you on camera. Not a tough act. Natural, actually. That was a good day. You’re thinking it too.
“Magnetic.”
“Huh?”
Eddie can’t tear his eyes away from the screen. “You’re magnetic. Utterly. I almost forgot, but I didn’t really, you know? I-I think about that day often and how much fun it was,” he rambles. It’s sweet. 
“But what I replay in my mind the most is how fucking talented you are, sweetheart. A goddess in front of a camera, I swear.”
You smirk, your own mind flying to something much, much dirtier than what Eddie meant, and he flicks your leg at the institution, all while glancing at you from the corner of his brown eyes. Because there was a video camera left under the rockstars California King bed with a tape inside, a tape that could get you both — although the sexist industry you’re lucky to be a part of would blame only you, mainly — in a lot of trouble, if it ever saw the light of day. A tape for private eyes only. And Eddie wasn’t wrong, you were near damn a goddess.
“Wish we could work together again,” he says, then quickly adds, “Professionally, sweetheart, before you get any kinky ideas.”
That makes you laugh.
“Think you should focus on the album the band is about to release, hotshot. Once that’s a sure hit, then we can talk about doing something together.”
“Well, there is a box in my room, back in LA, with notebooks full of songs…”
He’s trying to be encouraging. Motivational. Really what Eddie’s doing is building up the courage to ask you to go back to Los Angeles with him. In a complete roundabout way, to be honest. The guys would call him a pussy. He was being a pussy. There was however, a lot he still needed to tell you. This whole thing with your grandma, for one. But Marianne was handling that now, and once she gave him the agreed upon sign, there was nothing stopping Eddie from screaming he loves you from all available rooftops — which he hoped to do for the first time at the place you two officially met. 
And with his manager on the case, he knew it would be sooner rather than later.
“Eddie, you’re a dumbass.” Marianne states. There’s a frown on her face, but it’s not serious. Accompanied by a smile that’s giving him a little bit of hope.
“I know—”
“No,” she interrupts, “You don’t.” 
He exhales. “I do, though.”
“Eddie. If you came to me when this first happened, you would’ve never lost all this time with Little Miss Perfect. The fact that you didn’t, the fact that you didn’t trust me with this information, makes you a dumbass.”
“So, you can fix this?”
“There’s a little thing called a Cease and Desist,” Marianne says as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. And in a way, it is. “No one is going to threaten the career of my favourite client and get away with it.”
Eddie smiles. Genuinely. Something reminiscent of relief is flowing through his body, down to the tips of his toes, until he no longer feels heavy. The burden of this situation is slowly lifting.
“With your permission, I’d like to approach her team with this information. They’ll most likely also issue a cease and desist, so that her career is also protected.” Marianne says. “But I guess since all you’ve tried to do is keep her out of harm’s way, the only way you knew how, I’m assuming I have your permission without even asking for it?”
“Yes, yes, thank you.” He’s repeating over and over and over, wrapping his arms around Marianne. A hug they’d both cherish forever.
“Like I said, let’s get you to survive this record release first, okay?”
You’re looking at each other now.
“Take it day by day, Eds.”
“What if I want to skip ahead?”
There’s a lot hiding behind that question. The future is uncertain in many ways. He knows that he wants you, you know that you want him. That’s enough, but at the same time it isn’t. Day by day is easier than thinking about tomorrow, or the next day. He just loves you, which he’ll tell you soon. That’s what he wants to skip too.
On the other hand, you’re terrified. Giving into him again brought no shortage of anxiety about his past behaviour. Eddie Munson hurt you, twice. Second time worse than the first. You forgave him, yet the fear was still there. The question remained: what if he did it again? He wouldn’t, but what if he did? So taking it day by day, as it came, was easier. A shield, of sorts. Protection against hurt. 
Also, it was a lot more fun to act without consequence. To just be. 
Existing with him felt almost normal, even though there was nothing normal about the various interviews and photoshoots the rockstar has been doing promoting Assistance is Futile while in New York, or the long phone calls with his manager and bandmates in preparation for the release party. Nothing normal about your own career, which you’ve slowly been defrosting following the short heartbreak hiatus. Pivoting slightly towards acting as a new form of expression. So you’re reading scripts, rehearsing lines. All without expectations. Day by day.
“Skipping ahead means you, going back to LA for the release party,” you point out.
“You could come with me. The invitation is there, you know that.”
“There’s nothing I’d want more than to be there for you and the guys, Eddie, you know that.” You lean in closer, pressing your body weight into his. “But if I make an appearance, it will overshadow the album you worked really hard on and that’s not fair.”
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, pressing his lips to the side of your head, leaving a soft kiss while inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. He slowly nods against you, understanding your point of view.
“So we won’t see each other for a while then, huh?”
“Well, I got that recurring part in Law & Order which is filming here, so that’s a couple of months, at least, that I’ll be stuck here in New York.”
“I can visit,” he jumps in almost instantly, “And you, maybe… You can come out to see me whenever you have breaks in filming?”
“Sounds good, Eds.”
There’s a moment of silence. It shifts towards the heavy side. Eddie’s biting his tongue. He wants so badly to tell you everything he’s been keeping secret, but he knows it’s not a good idea until Marianne confirms she’s consulted your team and the cease and desist letters have been sent out. He’s just not ready to say goodbye yet. Not even for a little while. He just got you back. You’re also lost in thought. Reuniting with the Corroded Coffin frontman has been nothing short of a rollercoaster, in the best way possible. Having him here, next to you once more, kissing and touching you. And you know it was limited. That time would come knocking and he’d have to go back, while you’d need to stay. Bittersweet would be the word to describe how you feel. 
“How about we focus on right now, hm?” You offer, lifting your head so that your sweet gaze catches his chocolate one. Then a short inhale later, you kiss him. Gentle, at first, although not quite a peck. His eyes close on impact as his hand reaches for your face, attaching itself like a magnet. Cradling, squeezing your cheeks. 
And you smile. Fucking smile. Eddie loves it when you smile while kissing him. It drives him crazy knowing his touch makes you that happy. So he can’t help but smile too. Teeth knocking against each other in the process. 
“I’ll never get tired of kissing you,” the rockstar admits.
“I’ll never get tired of kissing you, Eddie Munson.” 
The hand that held his toned abdomen just a mere second ago is now not so innocently sliding in a downward trajectory. You fiddle with his leather belt, unbuckling it rather effortlessly with one hand after you press your lips against his once more. Deeper this time. Wanting.
“But distracting me from a conversation about what’s mph… next,” he mumbles as you tug at his zipper. You’re not giving him a chance to breathe. “Isn’t going to - Jesus - work.”
“Okay,” you’re teasing. It’s a whisper and Eddie’s brain short circuits ‘cause your perfectly manicured fingers are sliding into his boxers, reaching for his semi.
-
“So, you guys are like back together now, huh?” 
Steve’s question lingers in the air for a moment. He’s glancing at his small-town friend turned worldwide phenomenon from across the table, swirling black coffee in his takeaway cup.
Eddie looks out the window at the clouds passing by. 
After getting over his initial fear of flying, since he hadn’t been on a plane until his early twenties, the rockstar decided he enjoyed it a lot more than he thought he would. Things were peaceful up here — especially since he could now afford private jets. Just him and his guitar. Even when he travelled together with the guys, they all got lost in their own thing too, as did Marianne.
The upcoming release party however, prompted an invite to his little sister as well as Steve. So he knew that unfortunately this trip wasn’t going to be a quiet one.
“Something like that,” Eddie answers, turning his attention back to his friend.
Harrington nods. “That’s good, man. She’s great.”
“That she is.” Eddie fails to contain a smile.
“I’m happy for you.” Steve’s words are genuine.
“Thanks, dude.”
The short exchange is interrupted by Max’s snort. The two boys look at the redhead currently splayed out on one of the recliner seats. A book in her lap, one that she’s not really reading, but she’s keeping up appearances anyway.
“To think we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my genius,” she retorts, a smirk now present on her face.
Eddie laughs lightly, but doesn’t say anything. He’s looking out the window again. His mind turns to you. He misses you, even though he saw you not even a half hour ago when you said goodbye before he got on the plane. He misses you. Anxiety building since neither of you are really sure when you’d be able to see each other next. “And that’s okay,” is what you said to him in between soft kisses. He’s repeating it now.
“She’s not coming to the party, right?” Red asks her older brother, briefly breaking Eddie away from his thoughts. 
The rockstar shakes his head. “No.”
“You’ll see her soon,” his sister reassures, reaching for his forearm across the aisle, squeezing. 
“I know, I know.” 
“Then why the sad face?” Steve points out.
Eddie wishes he was alone. Then no one would be questioning him, even though he knows it’s coming from a good place. They just care, he tries to level his emotions, they’re asking because they care.
“Our last goodbye wasn’t so good,” he answers plainly.
Luckily both Max and Steve understand. They exchange a glance between themselves before returning to whatever activity they were engaging in prior to the start of this conversation: Red buries her head in the book she wasn’t really reading and Harrington resumes listening to music on his Walkman.
Eddie is once again glancing out the small jet window. He’s once again thinking about you. 
And he continues to think about you when the plane lands. In the car, on the way to his Hidden Hills home. He continues to think about you when the house fills with people that are there to style him for the release party. He’s making small talk, his mind still centred on you.
You remain the centre of his attention, even when Eddie and the band arrive at the venue, and he’s being ripped ten thousand different directions. Picture here, sign this, talk to this person. He enjoys a drink and he’s still thinking about you. He’s wishing you were here. 
The guys are introduced to come up on stage and even though Eddie is on cloud nine for this release, super proud of the record they put together, he’s wishing you were here to celebrate this with him.
He thinks about you as he sings one of the songs. Breaking News — a song about you, of course.
There comes a point during the night, a split second during which Eddie stops thinking about you. Not for any particular reason. Nothing spectacular happens for him to do so, he just… does. But it’s only a fleeting moment. He regrets it as soon as he realises. He especially regrets it when Marianne approaches him, a concerned look spread across her usually composed features — although the rockstar doesn’t pick up on her expression immediately.
“What did you think of the performance?” Eddie asks, smiling wide.
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she reaches for the half-empty glass in his hand and sets it aside before exhaling a sigh.
He furrows his brows, the smile fading as quickly as it appeared.
“Eddie, there’s been an accident.”
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thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!
celebrity skin. masterlist
& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie, @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @ohmeg , @hereforshmut , @eg-dr3amer3 (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)
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stay-with-me--always · 10 months
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I need to take a moment and do a deep dive on the scene where Katniss sits with Gale after he's been whipped vs the scene where Katniss sits with Peeta as they work on the plant book.
Why these two scenes? These scenes in particular I feel like have a lot of similarities as far as Katniss' narration is concerned. They are both scenes where she is alone with either boy in an unrushed, natural environment where she is capable of really looking at them and noticing them both. and in both scenes she IS actively noticing them. it is important to note though, that the tone of these scenes are pretty different, since Gale's is right after he was whipped, and she's still reeling from her intense day. Even so, the plant book scene with Peeta takes place during a time where Katniss has more reason to be worried about her life/family than ever, so I feel like a direct comparison of these isn't too much of a stretch.
----
The Gale text in question:
"I touch parts of him I have never had cause to touch before. His heavy, dark eyebrows, the curve of his cheek, the line of his nose, the hollow at the base of his neck. I trace the outline of stubble on his jaw and finally work my way to his lips. Soft and full, slightly chapped. His breath warms my chilled skin." (CF, 116)
The biggest thing to note is the detail in which she describes him. Katniss takes her time and touches Gale's face with her hand, taking in his features. and yet, most of the descriptions are very generic and could adequately be attributed to most anyone's face, including Peeta's. Even the lines where she takes a bit more notice 'his heavy, dark eyebrows', 'the outline of the stubble on his jaw' are pretty vague and don't give much detail into her REALLY noticing him. the most detailed part we get is the last line about his lips.
Let's keep all of that in mind while we contrast that to the lines any Everlark fan probably knows by heart - the eyelash scene:
"I also become a little fixated on his eyelashes, which ordinarily you don't notice much because they're so blond. But up close, in the sunlight slanting in from the window, they're a light golden color and so long I don't see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks." (CF, 161)
In the time it took for her to describe Gale's entire face, she only managed to describe Peeta's eyelashes. the level of detail that she notices about Peeta goes far beyond what she sees about Gale, even in a moment where she's really taking the time to look at him. The description she gives about Gale's face really accentuates her feelings towards their relationship - practical, obvious, concise. Whereas the description for Peeta just highlights what shes been thinking about him all along - interesting, perplexing, alluring. It's clear from those paragraphs that she just doesn't see Gale in the same way that she sees Peeta.
These scenes can be analyzed all day, and I've been busy making notes on the way she describes both boys, to be compiled and analyzed once I've gone through all 3 books, but I feel like these two scenes alone give a very good look into Katniss' mind and what she really sees in each of her boys.
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I blame Jazzy for this
Design notes under cut plus Goopy’s general uhhh….vibe(body horror warning)
If we were to say Mew are basically the equivalent of Alicorns, then like…That’s almost the entire cast man how do I EVEN-
So I took that idea but tried to make certain attributes more prominent?
Zeus relies on their psychic abilities most out of the cast so their horn is longer (cuz longer horn means stronger magic DUH), but their body is weaker and their wings aren’t too strong
Fuji’s a very phsyical fighter, so he’s got that strong Earth pony body but weak wings and magic (but now his horn is broken…)
Bella is all about speed and agility, so she gets wings that are far too big for a filly her age with a not as strong body or magic
Mosy and Janus are both pure Mew so they’re a lot more balanced (Janus is very strong despite looking dainty they WILL stomp you)
Gave Janus, Fuji, and Bella some traditional Unicorn features because fun
And lastly…Goopy….he ain’t doin so hot.
Hasbro can pry pre!reformed Changelings from my COLD DEAD HANDS
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Note
Hi! I’m here to send in a request for platonic crows x reader where the reader can shapeshift - The main thing I was thinking of was just kinda friendship w the crows in general and their reactions to different things they learn about reader overtime and what they first though about reader vs now. Also here’s some ideas I’ve had about reader for if you do choose to do this request that might help!
-> I feel like reader would probably be able to change their body to be able to take on like a half form of things so like they could give them-self ears or something and depending on if they have a ‘Main form’ of sorts they could probably have some of the features of that thing like idk enhanced hearing or their good at being quiet/Sneaky.
-> Also I imagine that they might get like aches if they haven’t done it in a long while just based on the fact that in a way it’s like changing your bones/Bone structure if that makes sense so if they do it too much (Like an unhealthy amount like every single day for hours on end) Or haven’t done it in a long time they’d get aches n stuff
-> and also (Last thing I promise) They would probably use smaller/Quieter forms to scare/sneak up on people and just be an overall menace rlly
And of course if you aren’t interested in doing this request that’s fine too! Just let me know ^^ hope you have a wonderful day! :]
(Also could I be an anon? If so could I be 🍒Anon?)
Platonic! Crows x gn! Shapeshifter! Reader Headcanons
Hi! You can totally be the cherry anon if you want, that's cool with me! I'm sorry it took me a bit to see this, I've been writing requests from the bottom of my inbox to the top of it lately so that I could get the oldest requests done first, and seeing this in my inbox, I just knew I'd have a blast! I was right, writing this was so much fun.
I did it as headcanons to keep the fic from breaching a 15k word limit which I knew I'd get to if I let myself and I didn't want this fic to run too long! I hope that that's all right with you and if not, I apologize and I can rewrite if you'd like me to!
Fic type- fluff
Warnings-mentions of tarantulas, flies (the reader once turns themself into a fly on the wall) and spiders
(no gif because I sadly couldn't find one of the crows on the rooftop)
Okay, so!
Your status as a shapeshifter is kind of just...known amongst the crows? 
Like, they all know about it and it just kind of exists as another one of your attributes. It’s not a big deal, and nobody has ever really made it out to be.
You’re able to enhance your hearing so that you can hear pretty far out, which comes in handy a lot on heist jobs, especially if you can make it so that you can be standing on the total opposite side of wherever you need to be for the heist and still be able to hear Kaz and Nina bickering at the checkpoint. 
You’re also able to make yourself quieter, which comes in handy a lot on jobs too, especially when you need to focus on being stealthy and go unseen and unheard. 
Now that I think of it, there’s probably a way that you can shift to match your surroundings or like, make them match you kind of, and make yourself invisible, which is actually a super cool concept and I don’t want to get sidetracked by it, so next thing!
There’s a healthy amount of times that you should shapeshift on a regular basis. You go off that and start doing it too much or not doing it enough, you get really bad aches and pains.
I feel like you’d get them all over and they would hurt as much as a really bad migraine. It happens at random and can sometimes last a couple of days, too. All in all, the pain part of it isn’t really a fun or enjoyable experience so you try to shapeshift consistently
YOU WOULD TOTALLY SHAPESHIFT INTO RANDOM SHIT TO SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF PEOPLE-
forgive the caps, I would a thousand percent do the same thing and I got excited when I remembered that that was a possibility.
You’d probably shapeshift into something like a tarantula and just spend hours relaxing in a random corner of Wylans lab weaving webs and hanging from the ceiling and being all cool, and then Jesper comes in and you go to greet him and he’s like “saints, what is that?"
and then Wylan is just like “it’s Y/N? Their favorite color is the dots on their back? How could you not recognize them?”
“Oh, I’m sorry Wylan, I’m just not so used to seeing my best friend as a bloody tarantula!” 
You probably shapeshift into a cat to be a menace to Kaz 
the concept of you just kind of showing up at his office window and then doing that thing that cats do where they nap in direct line of wherever the sun is coming in is something I love more than life itself
that’s nOT MENACING, BACK ON TRACK
AFTER you’ve sunbathed an appropriate amount of time, you, in the form of a cat, jump onto Kaz’s desk and glare at him the entirety of the time that it takes you to bring his to-go cup of coffee closer and closer to the edge of his desk, until it tips over and spills. 
that concept has made me laugh for the last ten minutes
Kaz almost hates you for that every time you do it, even though he knows you’re only doing it because he did something to piss you off first and he just considers it fair when he remembers that much. 
You also buy him a replacement coffee out of the kindness of your heart, though you never actually apologize to him
to be menacing in the direction of Matthias and Nina, you also take up the form of a spider. Neither of them really like spiders and you just kind of mess with them for two minutes before it gets old and you switch into something else.
Inej is a cat person through and through, and there aren’t many ways in which you can mess with her, nor do you want to because knife wife WILL use knives if she doesn't recognize the fact that whatever you shift into is you and the possibility, though slight, is still there.
You go to Inej as a cat the most often, though. 
You’re able to keep up with her when she’s running through the barrel on her missions for Kaz, and the naps in the sun are best when you’re laying on one of Inejs coats while she spars with Jesper
You’ve also been a literal fly on the wall to get intel for Kaz before, but that was because you’d offered, and it was exhausting. You got a lot of good intel from that but you were like “nah, never again. Not for less than a hundred million kruge. Never”
generally, it’s a very chaotic but a very fun existence, and you wouldn’t trade a minute of it for anything
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ro-botany · 1 month
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An Anatomical Reference of Grima, ca. 608 (Archanean Calendar)
(In essence: I got my claws on Grima's model from Echoes, and took screenshots of it in blender for your art referencing convenience. At some point later I'll reblog with some gifs of his animations if I can get them working. Enjoy!)
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An excerpt from a worn journal attributed to an unnamed Summoner of Askr. Carefully affixed between paragraphs of chicken-scratch are several large, high quality photographs.
With the assistance of the dragon Askr, I've finally opened the correct gateway; one leading deep within the Thabes Labyrinth just around the time of the hero Alm's adventures. And it was just as the old manuscripts claimed! At the heart of the lowest levels, we found The Creation - he who would one day go on to be known as the Fell Dragon, Grima - laying in a deep torpor to conserve energy. It's taken near a month of work, and I've no doubt the rest of the Order thinks I'm nuts by now, but with a lot of one-on-one talking and the offering of several cart-fulls of quality carrion for him to eat, we've at long last built up a mutual trust! He's not quite at the point of letting any of us touch him, not even me; and he outright panics if he sees someone carrying a stave. As such, any real investigation of his physical health and detailed characteristics will have to wait. But he tolerates my flitting about with Anna's picture tome well enough, and has allowed me to take enough photographs and rough 3D scans for us to get a sense of his external anatomy. Once he's regained enough strength to move and levitate without undue difficulty, I hope to capture some short video of him in motion...
Full-Body Shots
His wings and horns are proportionally quite small compared to the much older instances of Grima I've dealt with thus far. Is this just because he's so much younger? With how much time he's spent trapped down here, it might be malnutrition stunting his growth, too...
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Facial Shots
At first I'd assumed he had a pair of pharyngeal jaws like an eel, but upon further visual inspection I believe his cranial anatomy is far stranger than even that. There's no apparent gums or tongue inside the exterior jaw, and no musculature or soft tissue connecting the outer cranium to the outer jaw at the corners of the mouth; those features are confined solely to the inner pair of structures. And his lower external jaw isn't even connected to the flesh of his neck! I won't know for sure until he allows me to do a tactile exam, but from what I can see, I suspect his entire exterior "face" is actually a specialized defensive structure like the bony plates on his back. Like a big pair of horns, almost. What appears to be teeth may actually be akin to the points on a deer's antlers.
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Torso Detail
His body construction really reflects his origins. He almost looks composed of two human rib cages, compressed and stacked atop one another. Complete with two lateral shoulder girdles and at least the appearance of very humanoid chest and back musculature. The range of motion on the joints of his hind limbs is decidedly NOT humanoid, though. I'll have to try to get some focused video shots of them once he's up and about.
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I know we're not SUPPOSED to alter the timelines of the worlds we visit if we can help it, but... I mean, helping him has always been the goal, and the studies were always the excuse. Leaving him here would eat me alive. Maybe if I appeal to Sharena's emotions, and we get Chrom involved...
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qsmpmiraheze · 4 months
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Tubbo and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
Did you wonder what Tubbo did on the first day of QSMP 2024? Don't worry -- we've got you covered! Join Tubbo on a journey involving many dissapointments, and many (non-)flying horses. (That's what he called those, yes. I personally think they look more like very weird chickens.)
Don't forget to check out our wiki for the most recent edition of this recap!
Tubbo was incredibly excited to join the server, first things first remarking on Dapper’s incorrect name and configuring his voice chat. Sunny immediately came to hang out by Tubbo. He was incredibly surprised at Antoine’s inventory showing up and showed off the new animation to Quackity (who was logged in from the wrong account and sounded like he was talking from the toilet). He reunited with Foolish, the two of them being incredibly excited about the Town of Fobo. Sunny said she’d missed Tubbo a lot, and Tubbo remarked on how they had fancy signs. He went on to finalizing his sound and translation settings.
He talked with Ramón and reassured him that his fathers were probably fine. Tubbo noticed the eggs’ inventory sometimes popping up and prompted Sunny to type commands. He then decided to find Phil, and scared him by greeting him from behind him. He looked at his map and noted how they were hell knows where. His game then crashed.
He logged back in. He noticed Etoiles writing down some commands as he’d already noticed some dungeons. Tubbo saw that F3 was now much nicer. Philza pointed out how much better the performance was, making both him and Tubbo even more excited. Tubbo invited Philza to the Town of Fobo. Philza said he’d think about it, and that he might just live in a hole with his eggs.
Lenay logged on, and Tubbo encouraged Sunny to go and meet her. The two tried to approach her, but her mic was broken. Tubbo reunited with Baghera. He experimented with new emotes, talked with Dapper and Pomme (and learned that Dapper had more than one father), as well as Chayanne. Tubbo also reunited with Cellbit and showed off his new skin. Tubbo had clarified that he’d forgiven Cellbit for what he’d done to Tubbo in Purgatory, but warned Sunny against interacting with him anyway. Tubbo wondered if they could get out of the landing area.
Sunny asked Tubbo about Lenay again, so he went to talk to her only to get immediately distracted by reuniting with Bagi. Tubbo got a blindness effect and beefed with Etoiles for a bit.
Everyone was teleported to spawn. People remarked on how good the place looked, but Tubbo had trouble remembering where they saw it before. Tubbo looked at the map and noticed that Create trains were visible there. He and Phil then noticed a screen with a timer, and sat down to watch it, discussing how many mobs there were.
Tubbo realized he left Sunny unattended, and went to talk to Lenay. Everyone was separated into two groups. Tubbo reunited with Empanada, happy to see her safe and sound. Tubbo greeted one of the workers that had shown up and discovered that they had the Attributes mod. He explained to Phil what it was and Phil shared his theory on what was going to happen. Tubbo and Phil experimented with their speech bubbles’ styles. The two bothered one of the workers for food and asked Leo if she was okay (she was okay). Phil and Tubbo found out they could change text on eggs’ signs and were very mature about that feature. Tubbo reassured Leo Foolish was okay. Tubbo and Phil bothered the worker some more, to no avail.
Everyone sat down to watch the cinematic. Tubbo wondered “what half that shit even meant” and immediately went to press the button. The group went to the train, and Tubbo was very excited about the next Create expansion that was added. Tubbo then fell through the train and ran across the tracks for a bit before being teleported back to the train. Tubbo begged to be the driver and cried at not being able to drive once the train took off.
Once they’d arrived at the station, everyone got off the train. They met the new workers and joked about the island being a “furry island”. Tubbo saw a dungeon and talked to Foolish. He, Foolish and Quackity killed a giraffe. Tubbo went through the items list, trying to determine which mods they had.
Other islanders came by. Ramón noted that they should get the eggs armor, first things first. Sunny informed Tubbo that she had another Dad. The group was confused, and Tubbo asked Sunny to clarify who her parents were. Quackity came by and pointed out they had to be following a certain worker. Tubbo looked through the items list some more, and then took off running after everyone else.
He questioned what the workers were. They soon arrived to spawn. They saw ATMs and Bagi laughed about how fucked Tubbo was now that they had real money for Sunny to be obsessed with. Tubbo ran around, checking out the stores and marveling at all the new stuff. Sunny asked Tubbo to win her a plushie at the local arcade machine, but Tubbo didn’t know how. Sunny decided she wanted to make her own shop, which Tubbo approved of.
Tubbo saw Etoiles screaming about how he’d gotten kicked. Foolish and Tubbo recruited more people into their town and Tubbo made sure Sunny was with them before they left to claim their territory. Foolish gave Tubbo some food. Foolish declared Antoine as their enemy. Sunny went to ask Lenay to come.
Tubbo had a phone call IRL, and after it the group continued to run further into the wilderness. Tubbo saw a cool mob and just as he approached it, a new cinematic played. Tubbo was rather excited about capitalism. Once back, Tubbo declared that the mob they’d found was now called Frank, and rode it for a bit. The group proceeded to start exploring.
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The group collected resources and found a spot for Town of Fobo. They found the first home of fobo and a villager. Sunny and Leo’s beef evolved. Fit came by and checked out the Town of Fobo. Frank was killed by admins. Richarlyson was downed twice, which got Tubbo and Fit properly spooked. They beefed with Fit and Ramón and told them to get off their property, dug out a basement below the first home, Tubbo learned there was already a Town of Fobo update account and the server crashed.
Upon returning, everyone struggled with lag; the Town of Fobo continued on despite it. They mined, declared Cellbit as their enemy, and discovered an absurdly large cave system directly under the first home. As they were mining, Cucurucho showed up, and they shared their plans with it. They later said that they were surprised it was still around, as they assumed that it was replaced by Mr. Bunny.
A chat message about being chased was displayed. Foolish and Tubbo got attacked by brand new mobs multiple times, and Tubbo got downed a couple of times. They’d discovered Alex’s caves, got into the atomic age by discovering uranium. They found two spawners, in one of which Tubbo acquired a rubber ducky akin to Chayanne’s. He’d found netherite boots (which he immediately bragged about to Etoiles), and after finding another spawner, the duo headed back to the surface.
Upon arriving there, they discovered that Fit put his house right on the border with the Town of Fobo. They reunited with their daughters, who seemed to be getting along rather nicely. They put up Leo’s amethyst and the Gem of Fobo — the first ever diamond the two mined. They discovered that while they were gone, Sunny and Leo cooked six and a half stacks of toast and gathered an absurd amount of seeds.
Tubbo farmed wood and just as he gathered all the resources he needed, he found Create mod disabled. He sat in Town of Fobo, unsure what to do. He made sure Sunny had gear and asked about her relationship with Leo; Sunny told him what had happened to her while he was away.
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The two went looking for dungeons. While looting a structure, Tubbo found a signed book written by Kubek727 that read, “Dupa Biskupa :D”, which is a name of a Polish game that literally translates as “bishop's bum”. Exploring further, Tubbo found a chokobo and lost Sunny before finding her again (she had been in a hole).
They ran into Etoiles, who gave them a piece of leather Tubbo needed for a chokobo saddle. He left, and the two ran back to Tubbo’s chokobo. It was named Star, but couldn’t fly, which Tubbo was disappointed about, and proceeded to declare a new mission for the day: to find a gold chokobo which would be able to fly.
They found a second chokobo which was named Blue, and Tubbo established a chokobo breeding pit. Fobo claimed its first victim (BadBoyHalo, who was killed by Foolish). Tubbo had to fight off a zombie horde.
The first natural resident of Fobo was born — a baby chocobo. Leo came by, with Foolish and Tina soon following. Leo gave Tubbo some stuff, which he was ecstatic about.
Foolish and Tubbo lied to Tina about the origins of the first home and the three chatted for a bit about chocobos, their building plans and streamer awards. Foolish and Leo logged off for today, but not before suggesting Tina be the Fobo ambassador (especially since Tina was very interested in the place). Tina and Tubbo discussed recent money-related shenanigans, chocobos, Tubbo’s state of real life and effects of lack of Create on his psyche, American food and Etoiles. Tina left to find Empanada and build a house, and Tubbo continued on with this bird breeding business.
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Sunny said that she was a bit sleepy, which Tubbo was very unhappy about, though he did later clarify that he was just joking and proceeded to put Sunny to sleep. He then went back to breeding. He heard some weird sound he couldn’t identify the source of and expanded the pit.
Richarlyson came by, looking like a pin cushion (stuffed with arrows). He said that he wanted to find Bad, which Tubbo wasn’t able to help him with. Tubbo showed him his chocobos and very non-subtly asked if it was even possible to get a golden chocobo. It turned out that golden chocobos were disabled altogether.
Richarlyson hugged Tubbo in consolation, and gave him a blue axolotl even though Tubbo didn’t want it. He also gave Tubbo a shiny plant, which Tubbo agreed to. Tubbo went back into the pit and continued breeding chocobos, rambling about how he wasn’t going to give up; he then came back up and screamed some more. Richarlyson asked to use Tubbo’s crafting table. Tubbo stood over the pit and rambled about unlucky rolls. Richarlyson asked about Tubbo’s rubber duckie and said that he also was nerfed — he wasn’t able to use wooden axes. Tubbo disagreed it was a nerf, saying that it was a World Edit tool. Richarlyson asked to smelt some iron; he then suggested he ask the gods whether there could be a golden chocobo, which Tubbo enthusiastically agreed to.
Tubbo continued to lament about lack of Create and decided to become the chocobo guy. He crafted himself chocobo armor and continued to breed chocobos. He had a mental breakdown in the pit, and decided to switch to the fishing mod. Richarlyson wanted to try breeding chocobos as well, but Tubbo said that it would be rigged and didn’t allow him.
Tubbo and Richarlyson fished. Upon Tubbo’s request Richarlyson shared whether treasure chests were nerfed, and Richas made fun of Tubbo farming chocobos for so long. Tubbo threatened to break the server.
Richarlyson egged Tubbo to breed the chocobos again, which Tubbo refused to do. Tubbo screamed about backpacks still being enabled with Create mod and chocobos being disabled. He learned that a lot of backpacks' features were disabled as well.
Tubbo continued fishing and chatting with Richarlyson. At one point Richas asked Tubbo to breed chocobos one more time, which Tubbo did. Richarlyson explained that only white, black and golden ones were blocked, and that Tubbo must have had terrible luck. They discussed the situation some more, and Richarlyson revealed that Frank was ‘’his’’ chocobo all along. Richarlyson realized he had to meet up with Bad, so Tubbo sent him off.
Tubbo then fished until he got a Neptune’s Bounty. Once he did, he bred the chocobos some more and decided to go to spawn. He talked about how he might take a break until more mod stuff is unlocked. Once at spawn, he walked around, experimented with the ATM, got himself a bounty to complete and soon logged off.
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julianalvarez9 · 1 year
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whipped / christian pulisic
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request: Are you still taking requests? If so can you do soft Christian wanting your attention and he’s just cuddling up to you sleeping on your boobs and then you post about it only for his teammates from club and country call him whipped 🥹
summary: christian only wants cuddles and attention when he returns home after an away game.
word count: 0.9k
going away always was the worst for christian.
he didn't like not having you around to tell you all his thoughts, console him after a loss or cheer for him after scoring a goal. but what was worse about not having you around was sleeping. christian didn't consider he had trouble sleeping, but he sure was restless during his night hours when your body wasn't pressed alongside his.
it had been a fun fact to discover, when you two first slept together, that his disturbed sleep pattern was fixed when you cuddled up to him.
"are you sure you'll be okay? i tend to move quite a lot when I sleep" christian, joining you under the covers just as you were doing grabby hands to pull him into your warm embrace. he gladly complied, letting out a warm breath fan into your skin. you softly whispered, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "christian, i don't care" pressing a kiss alongside his temple, you continued explaining "also, you've been yawning for the past 30 minutes. I'm sure you'll be asleep before you know it".
and it was true. he didn't know how, attributing the achievement to the double training session he had at cobham earlier on the day. but after sleeping with you following a free day the team had thanks to their latest win, he started to think that only you could make him sleep as deeply as he did when he was at your side.
and now that he wasn't, well, he could only hope his racing thoughts lulled him quickly into a deep slumber, so he could get home faster. but after the clock struck midnight, he knew that the sleep he would get tonight would be minimal. christian didn't want to follow your around everywhere, scared that you may find it slightly overwhelming, so during these days that you spent apart, christian tried not to bother you too much, even if you already said it was fine. so, he took your suggestion at heart, and knowing that you were probably still awake due to being a few hours behind his timezone, he messaged you.
christian sent: i can't sleep:(
baby<3 sent: just one more night, yeah?
baby<3 sent: free day at work!
baby<3 sent: we can sleep in tomorrow
-
you had picked both mason and christian from the airport, and due to your british friend being too tired to drive back home, your boyfriend assured him it was fine if he stayed at his place. after dropping to the store to buy a few snacks and drinks, the three of you were driving back to christian’s place, where you decided to watch a random movie before calling it a day.
but your poor boyfriend, who hadn’t been having the best sleep for the past few days, had other plans.
"i swear i never see him sleeping," said mason in a hushed tone, pointing with his head at your boyfriend, that was peacefully sleeping in your chest. you smiled when you lowered your gaze to appreciate his facial features, peace clearly visible on them. "just my magic powers i guess" you joked, which was answered with a quiet giggle coming from mason’s lips. unknown to you, he had taken a picture of you two and was ready to send to the group chat a few of the guys shared, more than eager to make fun of his friend.
hours later, when his fellow british friend had gone home, christian awakened from his peaceful nap. following the delicious smell that was coming from the kitchen, your boyfriend found you making dinner. he planted a kiss on your cheek and you smiled, gratefully, before asking him to get the table ready so you two could eat.
after dinner, christian went up to take a shower while you put the used items in the dishwasher and started getting ready to go to bed. you realized that you hadn’t checked your phone for the past few hours, and smiled when you saw mason’s message with the picture he had taken of you and christian before, snuggled up on the couch. ready to tease christian a bit, you posted it on instagram, just before he made his way towards the bed, dressed only in loosely joggers and with a towel drying his wet hair.
"baby" christian groaned, a few moments later, when he had picked up his phone to get it charged at his bedside table. "why did you post that?".
you smiled, know what he was talking about. "you looked cute in it, love. my big baby boy" pinching his cheeks like a little kid, which only elicited a whimper from him. "but they are making fun of me" christian replied, a big pout in his lips while he got comfortable against your chest again, ready to watch a movie and get his beloved cuddles until sleep caught onto him, and you dragged his body back to bed.
"the boys?" you said, questioningly. he just nodded, and the vibrations that arose in your chest after starting to giggle made him lift his head up so he could look into your eyes. "what's so funny, baby?".
"tell them to stop bothering you, or i can call the girls, and they will send me a hundred pics of them being the biggest babies on earth".
+ BONUS
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dazaisdior · 6 months
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“𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍!”
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featuring — xiao, luma (oc)
summary — after the lantern rite, luma begins to head back to mondstadt. on their way back, they run into a group of hilichurls. while they were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, xiao appears and wipes them out. he convinces them to return to wangshu inn with him for the night.
warnings — xiao x oc, slight violence, based off 2023 lantern rite, mentions of self-harm, smut written by a minor, non-binary!oc with female attributes, it’s xiao’s first time, fluff, slight angst, soft and sad sex pretty much
messages from the galaxy — superrrr old post but i hold it very dear in my heart <33
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“goodbye traveler and paimon!” luma exclaimed, waving to them. “goodbye lumi!” paimon returned the enthusiastic energy, waving. the traveler offered a small smile.
luma turned around and began heading for mondstadt. along the way, they thought back to the recent events — dinner with hu tao, zhongli, venti, chongyun, xingqiu, xiangling, and xiao.
it was a delight to see him again. not that they'd ever admit it to the public, they actually missed him. they smiled to themselves, looking at the ground as they walked.
they were so deep in their thoughts that they didn't hear the noises of hilichurls nearby. it was only until they smelled fire was when they looked up, seeing a hilichurl charge at them with a wooden club on fire.
dodging quickly, they instinctively pulled out their two katanas and sliced them at a quick speed. hearing more approach them, they defeated the hilichurl before paying attention to defeating the rest.
luma placed their foot on the mitachurl's shield wall, bouncing off of it. they flipped to the side, slicing the back of it. it groaned in pain before dropping to the ground.
they sped towards the other hilichurls and sliced their katanas rapidly. so focused on the hilichurls in front of them, they didn't notice the cryo samachurl send icicle spikes in their direction.
they groaned in annoyance, feeling the ice pierce through their arms. turning around, they charged towards the samachurl and harshly swiped their katana through it, killing it instantly.
they turned around to see more and more approaching them. "xiao was right, there are a lot of them," they breathed out, not realizing they called upon him.
seeing the group of hilichurls, xiao took them out quickly, making luma quickly back away in shock. he took a few deep breaths before speaking to luma.
"are you crazy? what are you doing out here at night, especially during the lantern rite?" "i'm heading back to mondstadt. it's not like i need your protection!" they complained, irritated that he thought they couldn't fight for themselves.
his anger quickly faded when he saw the scrapes on their arms. "come on, i'll help you tend to your wounds." luma's eyes widened in confusion, looking at the blood dripping from the scars.
they complied, following him back to wangshu inn. there was complete silence between the two, making the tension even worse.
when they finally reached the inn, luma greeted verr goldet before heading upstairs with xiao. he took them to his room and told them to wait on the couch.
they waited patiently before he returned with a cloth and some medicine.
"you don't have to do this, you know? i'm fine," they said, almost in a whisper. he looked up at them for a second before returning to their arm. "you're going to get yourself hurt one day if you keep going at a rate like this. you need to take care of yourself better," he replied, pulling the cloth away as he heard them hiss in pain when it made contact with their scar.
slowly, he began wiping the blood away before applying medicine over the scars.
"stay here for the night. in the morning, you can return back to mondstadt," he told them, heading over to the cabinet to put the cloth and medicine away.
"i don't wanna bother you, i promise i'll be fine—" "you didn't seem fine when you were cornered by those hilichurls," he said, crossing his arms. "i was doing perfectly fine by myself!" they stood up, staring at him with a red glint in their eyes, indicating they were irritated.
"yet, you called for me. why is that?" "i didn't mean to! i was thinking out loud!" they exclaimed, bringing a hand to their head. xiao's piercing eyes softened in concern, seeing the lines on luma's hand.
"your hand," xiao spoke, grabbing their wrist lightly and held their palm out. it revealed the several scars on luma's palm. some looked old while the others looked fairly recent.
"where did these come from?" he asked, running his thumb against their palm subconsciously. "my...um...my katanas," they slowly explained. "why?" he breathed out.
"to feel something," they stated bluntly, pulling away their hand. he clasped both their hands in his, rubbing his hand over their knuckles soothingly.
he didn't realize he was leaning forward until he felt luma's breath fan against his face. glancing up to meet their eyes, he moved forward into a kiss. luma's eyes widened in shock, never thinking in a million years that he'd show any intimate acts with them.
their hand went to cup his face lovingly. they leaned against the sofa and allowed xiao to move further onto them. it didn’t seem like he knew how to kiss but learned quickly. luma’s hands ruffled through his hair, deepening the kiss.
“luma,” he whispered against their lips. “xiao…” he got them up and guided them to his room, still kissing each other along the way. he decided to take the risk in kissing their neck.
xiao knew he did a good job when he earned a soft moan from luma. “good boy, xiao,” they murmured, going straight to his cock. “luma,” he began, pulling away.
“these…feelings…i only feel them for you,” he explained, almost embarrassed. “xiao, you’ll have no idea how much love and admiration i feel for you. if only we could be together forever.” their voice quieted down.
“if only,” he said, frowning slightly. “but let’s cherish this moment now, i’m yours tonight,” he explained thoughtfully. “and i’m yours,” luma whispered, kissing him again.
he lowered them onto the bed, holding their lower back. they could feel his hot crotch against their pussy. “mm, xiao,” they moaned, palming his clothed dick. he let out a loud, breathy moan. he’s never been touched there before, and luma doing it made his mind spin with love and lust.
luma began pulling his shirt off, staring down at his abs. they were so shameless about it that it made xiao’s cock twitch. his eyes widened at the sudden feeling, but he knew only luma could do this to him.
“you’re gorgeous, xiao,” they said sweetly, looking at him admirably. “so are you, love.” the pet name caught luma off guard. it was a pet name they were completely and utterly weak for. hearing it from the yaksha they loved made it even better.
he slowly undid the hooks of luma’s corset. their cleavage could now be seen, making xiao’s ears heat up. luma just stared at him with love and devotion.
as xiao continued undoing their hooks, luma began pulling down his pants. just the slightest touches made xiao’s body twitch. he let out a silent groan and luma tried pulling his pants down more.
xiao pulled away to help them with his pants, letting his cock spring out. he’s that big and had no one to fuck all these years? luma felt happy to be his first.
“here,” luma whispered, flipping him over. he stared at them with wide eyes as luma adjusted so his cock could slide into their pussy.
“xiao,” they breathed out, moaning as his cock was so deep inside them. they clasped his hands in theirs, riding him to their hearts content. because their heart was so full of love for him.
suddenly, he flipped them over, pounding into them. “x—xiao!” they whimpered, moaning out.
the more they looked into his eyes, they felt tears form in their eyes. this wouldn’t last forever. they’ve been through enough pain, they deserve some peace. and peace is exactly what they made each other feel.
as tears poured down their face, xiao kissed them away. “don’t cry, luma. just enjoy the moment,” he whispered, moving down to peck their lips. they pouted their lips up to kiss him.
he groped parts of their body, giving a feel that he loved every part of it. xiao ran his fingers along their thighs, making luma shiver. “xiao.” they moaned his name.
“i’m right here, sweetheart. right here,” he said, cupping their face, he stroked their cheek with his thumb lovingly. smiling sweetly at them, luma had never felt more peace.
“xiao, i’m—” “me too, love. me too,” he whimpered, pounding into them faster. his hands gripped their ass to meet his thrusts. luma was drunk in pleasure, feeling their stomach tighten.
“xiao!” they moaned out, cumming around his cock. he let out a few whimpers before cumming deep inside them. the yaksha breathed heavily against their neck as luma cupped his head.
“no matter where we go, or who we meet, i’m yours,” luma confirmed, cupping his face and had him face them. “luma, i love you.”
“love you too, xiao—more than anything.”
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diorlumx productions, 2023
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calciferous-kelpie · 8 months
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Hey btw if your ever in need of ranting about a blorbo/oc, this is an ask that tells your to do so. What is the most interesting thing about them? Do they have any symbolism to them and if so what is it about? Favorite ideal situation to put them in? Any romance ideas?
Anon, I want to start off by apologizing for taking EXACTLY A YEAR to reply to this! Happy One Year Anniversary! 💀😭 Obviously, I’ve been thinking about this a lot, trying to decide who I wanted to talk about and trying to put my thoughts into words. And, of course, it took even longer because I wanted to include drawings of the characters… 🤦‍♂️Anyway…
I’ve decided to talk about multiple characters of mine, since they are important for my upcoming comics: Boxman’s mother, father, and sister! I have some New™, Fresh™ information to share about all of them today! Hope you enjoy my ramblings!
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MEREDITH (Boxman's Mother)
Most interesting thing: Hmm, well… the things I find most interesting about Meredith are kind of spoilers for my comics, but an interesting thing about her is her special ability! (“Every proper siren has one, darling.” 💅) It’s called Eye of the Storm, and it allows her to summon and control a raging thunderstorm at will. Obviously, this sort of thing takes a lot of energy to maintain, so this ability actually comes with a secondary feature: Meredith can occasionally choose a victim to steal the energy from, and all she has to do to steal said energy is to make direct eye contact with them. The lady’s got a mean glare as it is, but with this power on top of that? Wowza. Watch out.
Symbolism: Given my answer to the previous question, you won’t be surprised to know that I associate Meredith with storms! She is a passionate character with a wild side, and when she truly gets going, she will step aside for no one.
Favorite situation to put them in: Meredith is a complex character with a lot going on, and I don’t want to reduce her to just an antagonist… but MAN, does she make a good antagonist! 😆 I love to put her into situations in which she terrifies/intimidates other characters, and trust me, she will have a lot of chances to do that in the comics!
Romance ideas: Meredith isn’t much for romance. At least not anymore. Heron was her first love, and after her relationship with him went south, her trust in men was destroyed. (To be fair, it was shaky to begin with.) She has, however, made an attempt at another relationship or two for monetary reasons. If that even counts lol
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HERON (Boxman's Father)
Most interesting thing: Heron has had a wide variety of experiences across his lifetime, and during that time, he has developed many, many skills. These skills include (but are not limited to): farming, fishing, sailing, cooking, baking, sewing, crochet, whittling, building, juggling, and playing the banjo! Just… don’t ask him to sing, okay?
Symbolism: Heron’s symbolism is… probably pretty obvious, huh? I mean… he’s got an anchor… tattooed… on his back… *ahem* Anyway. The anchor is connected to a lot of Heron’s positive attributes—loyalty and sturdiness being the main ones. But it is also connected to some of his character flaws and the way he views himself. In a way, Heron himself is an anchor, for all the good and bad that entails. ⚓
Favorite situation to put them in: Despite the immense amount of comic outlining and scriptwriting I’ve been doing for Siren Theory, I can say pretty confidently that any scene in which Heron interacts with Professor Venomous is one of my favorites. It’s partly due to the “meet the parents” trope, but the other part of it is that Heron is just an unusual guy who does unusual things, and having a stranger witness that firsthand is hilarious.
Romance ideas: While Heron has had his share of crushes in his youth, he has never been in a serious relationship with anyone but Meredith… and he would like to keep it that way. He still feels like he’s putting the pieces of himself back together after their messy separation.
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REBECCA/SIRENA (Boxman's Sister)
Most interesting thing: I think the thing that I enjoy most about Rebecca is the duality in her personality. She is very charismatic and graceful onstage as Sirena, but offstage, when she’s just Rebecca, she can be pretty socially awkward and kind of a klutz.
Symbolism: Some of you may have made the connection already, but Sirena’s real name, Rebecca, is a nod to Rebecca Sugar, the creator of Steven Universe and the spouse of Ian Jones-Quartey (creator of OK KO). This name was actually a suggestion by my sister (Thanks, girlie!) because she knew Sugar sang the end credit song of OK KO, and that little song was one of my inspirations for creating Sirena in the first place. Since then, the name has really proven itself to be a perfect fit for my little superstar siren! The meaning of the name Rebecca is “to tie/bind,” and Rebecca really is the character that ties her family—and the narrative of a lot of the comics—together!
Favorite situation to put them in: My favorite moments for Rebecca are the ones in which she is emotionally vulnerable. It isn’t always easy for her, but there are some things that will happen in the comics that will force her to wear her heart on her sleeve. I’m excited for that!
Romance ideas: Honestly, I’ve come up with so many ideas for OK KO that I won’t have space for all of them in the narrative, even though I’m planning to create, like, 19 comics! 😂 One of those things that won’t get a lot of time in the spotlight is Rebecca’s developing romance with a certain someone. That being said, it wouldn’t be a big spoiler for me to say… Plazecca! 🎵
Thank you so much for asking, Anon! Truly, you have enriched my enclosure. 💖
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k-martins · 11 months
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N.A: I've been thinking a lot about writing something quick and cute itafushi so I found this list of @novelbear and couldn't resist writing something about these two. Good reading! :D
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Adorable wasn't exactly a word attributed to Megumi.
At least, Yuji never heard anyone call him that - maybe Gojo sensei , but to the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer anything that looks threatening must be adorable or comical.
Yuji 's experience , Megumi had many adjectives that were the complete opposite of cute. Cold, scary, stoic, a tired bitch, grumpy and boredom personified – thank you, Todo.
Of course, it wasn't for less.
Megumi's face seemed to have been molded to carry that poker face forever , his features relaxed, but still firm and confident. The emerald eyes stared seriously at the viewer, almost as if reading the poor person's own soul – One or two girls already shuddered when Megumi glared at them, even though he just wanted to buy popcorn for the movie session they were going to. It also didn't help that Megumi rarely laughed, had a prickly neutral tone of voice, and perhaps a dark aura that even normal humans were able to sense.
It wasn't exactly the kind of thing most people found cute or adorable.
But, looking at the raven-haired boy now, Yuji was sure that everyone was sorely mistaken!
Wrapped in a big, heavy blanket, a steaming cup of ginger tea in hand, wearing slippers with dogs that resembled his shikigami – these were truly, undeniably adorable – and the black threads shooting in various directions made Megumi the most adorable thing Yuji had seen in a long time. He looked so small and fluffy, like a big sulking burrito . It didn't help that the only visible part of his body was his face pressed into the soft, warm fabric of the blanket, making his red cheeks and nose that much more prominent.
The sight made Yuji melt like jelly on the sofa where he sat with his legs up and a forgotten issue of the manga he loved in his lap.
How could anyone call Megumi scary when he looked like a walking cinnamon roll?
It looks like Yuji was taking too long looking, as the other boy raised an eyebrow, puzzled.
"What it was?"
Oops .
"Nothing. Just thinking..."
"This is dangerous."
In another moment, Yuji would have exclaimed a “ hey ” with mock indignation, but now he could only laugh a little. Megumi sipped some of the tea, the steam making his cheeks even redder. It is still surprising to Yuji to see how easily Megumi blushes, whether from the cold weather or embarrassment. In either case, it's cute.
After almost a minute of silence, Megumi puts the mug down and gives him a hard look.
“Do I have something on my face by any chance, Itadori?”
Yuji just laughed some more, looking admiringly at that expression torn between confusion and anger. He looked like an angry kitten.
“No, that's not it. It's just that…” He took a deep breath, trying to force the words out of the laughter. “You look so cute in that blanket, Megumi.”
Megumi's long eyelashes flutter as he blinks, mouth pulling up in a shy pout. His cheeks get a rosier tone, which makes Yuji 's own smile open a little more.
“I'm not cute” He snapped, sinking into the blanket, getting exactly fluffier.
"Yes, you are!"
“Stop it, Itadori.”
“But you look so adorable.” Yuji got up until he was close to the other boy, reaching out to cup Megumi's warm cheeks, squeezing them affectionately. He grew the two centimeters that differentiated him from the other boy in the summer, now being able to look him straight in the eyes. “It looks like a burrito . A very fluffy burrito .”
Even redder, Megumi raises his fist to hit Yuji 's head , the blow causing nothing but a fit of laughter from the pink haired boy.
“Stop calling me cute, idiot!” Megumi groans. “I'm not adorable. I am a jujutsu sorcerer .”
“And should that be exclusionary?” He hums the question, leaning in to where the boy's fist rests on his head. When Megumi doesn't respond, Yuji smirks. "There is! Got you!"
"Shut up."
But Yuji ignores this, quickly slipping one arm behind Megumi's knees while the other holds him behind his back, carrying his bridal style with ease. The sorcerer gasps, focusing on balancing his hot tea which still spills a few drops onto the blanket.
“What the fuck…?”
"I said..." Yuji brings his face close to Megumi's, bumping his nose. “I got you, my fluffy burrito .”
"Do not call me like that. It's stupid.” The other complained, but still sank against Yuji's chest, the pout still stuck in his face. Then, intent green eyes rise to meet Yuji 's , one brow arched behind bangs. “Where are you taking me, kirby?”
Again, Yuji melts into a puddle of jelly, delighted at the discovery of Megumi's hidden cuteness .
A cuteness that only he has the right to see.
That's enough to get you drunk.
“Oh, since you're a burrito …” Yuji laughs when Megumi punches him in the chest, but continues anyway, pressing his lips to his boyfriend's soft red cheek until she narrows his eyes. The scent of ginger and vanilla dances around your nose. "I think I'm going to eat it."
Megumi blinks in disbelief, lips parted in a silent 'o', and Yuji runs to his room, where the heat will be off and they can snuggle together under the heavy, warm blanket.
He couldn't want more.
Or maybe yes...
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cacoetheswriting · 1 year
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celebrity skin.
pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 6.5k summary: as corroded coffin frontman, eddie munson regards himself as perhaps the most important person in hollywood. that's until he meets you — america’s favourite starlet.
content warnings: 18+, minors dni: adult language & mature themes, porn with a rather angsty plot, general heavy petting / kissing, teasing, fingering, quite rough yet protected p in v sex, borderline overstimulation, eddie is a little dom, light praise kink, dirty talk, use of pet names & very slight degradation, mentions of alcohol & drug consumption, mentions of blood (reader unintentionally hurts herself), emotional hurt / topics of guilt — if i missed anything, pls let me know! also, not proofread.
psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.
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“Absolutely not.”
Impossible to read between the lines with those two simple words, but if anyone dared to try regardless, the absolute disapproval and disdain in Eddie’s tone of voice stopped them from doing so. At least that’s what the Corroded Coffin frontman hoped.
It took a lot to catch Eddie Munson off guard. Given everything he’s endured in his life, nothing surprised him anymore ‘cause he made sure to be prepared for every single scenario. A little neurotic? Yes. Needed for his own piece of mind? Abso-fucking-lutely. 
Obviously there had been exceptions over the years — especially being in the limelight with easy access to substances that weren’t too good for his health and nothing but extensive amounts of cash to burn. The other guys had invested their paychecks, Gareth even started a family. Eddie on the other hand, well, he bought a mansion in Beverly Hills and threw parties every night of the week.
The heavy drinking clouded his judgement and damaged his liver, but Eddie still kept tabs on his inner circle and made sure to be informed of any moves the label was trying to make before official announcements.
Which is why when he stumbled into the recording studio an hour later than scheduled, extremely hungover and with an unlit cigarette between his teeth, he really thought he misheard the news announced by their long-time manager, Marianne.
“A feature. The label wants it, she wants it. Honestly, Eddie, no point in fighting it. It’s a done deal.”
Marianne’s words were ringing in his ears. To make matters worse, the whole band apparently knew about this. For a long time, at that. They just collectively chose not to tell him out of fear of his “overreaction”, as Gareth put it.
“Well, I don’t want it.” Eddie grumbles. A reaction worthy of a little kid more so than a famous rockstar. “I refuse.”
Jeff clears his throat, glancing between the group before settling his eyes on Eddie.
“Man, it’s just one song. Not like she’s been asked to permanently join the band,” he tries to be the voice of reason. 
Eddie just scoffs. He’s on the couch, eyes closed and hand pressed to his forehead with a third cigarette in between his fingers. He refused to believe this was happening.
“A feature and a music video,” Marianne chimes.
Jeff sighs. “You’re really not helping your case here.”
But their manager just shrugs. “There’s no case to help. Like I said, it’s a done deal. Y’all are doing this feature with America’s favourite starlet and y’all are gonna have smiles on your fucking faces in the process.” Marianne states and what she says, usually goes. “Are you hearing me, Eddie?”
Usually.
“I ain’t doing shit.”
“Eddie—” Gareth feels like it’s his turn to help the situation, but he just gets rudely interrupted.
“Shut up, Gareth! Everyone, just shut the fuck up!” Eddie’s outburst accompanies him jumping up onto his feet. He’s angry, clearly. Glaring at the group as if he’s endured the worst possible betrayal. “Last I fucking checked, this was my fucking band! I have a say in what’s a done deal and this is not one of those things!”
The boys don’t speak. They look to Marianne who seemed to always know how to calm Eddie down. She had this aura about her. Almost motherly, even though she couldn’t have been more than five years older than the Corroded Coffin frontman — an estimate as she’s never told them her actual age.
Marianne crosses the studio until she’s standing toe to toe with the curly-haired singer. He’s towering over her, but she’s got the upper hand — as always. 
First, she takes the cigarette he was holding and takes a drag, crossing her arms while blowing the smoke away from his face. The silence extends from seconds to minutes, almost as if she’s daring Eddie to continue. 
He doesn’t. So she clears her throat.
“Now that we’re done with the temper tantrum,” Marianne says calmly, “At risk of sounding like a complete and utter bitch, Eddie, my darlin’, you have lost your right to call this band yours after the last stunt you pulled cost the label thousands of dollars in damages. Not to mention the absolute nightmare it’s been to keep it out of the stupid tabloids.”
“I apologised—”
“Thousands of dollars, Eddie. Your apology ain’t worth shit.”
Marianne walks over to an ashtray and puts out the reminisce of the cigarette. She briefly glances between the rest of the band before settling her gaze on Eddie once again.
“The people actually in charge think this collaboration has the potential of being an absolute hit. A song played for generations to come and for once, I actually agree with them.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything. He knows deep down he has lost the argument, so he had nothing left to add.
“Guys, you gotta know y’all are my priority and I would never do anything to jeopardise your career. Ever.” Marianne reassures. The boys all say they know. All of them apart from Eddie.
He’s back on the couch. Sitting with his legs apart, elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands. Sulking and wishing he hadn’t forgotten his pouch of pre-rolled joints ‘cause he could really use one right about now.
When no one else speaks, Marianne heads for the door. 
“She’ll be here tomorrow. Please be on time.”
That last part was aimed at Eddie, who in that moment lifts his head to address his manager one more time before she leaves.
“I have a question,” his tone of voice is cold, understandably so. When Marianne doesn’t protest, he continues. “How come America’s pride and joy wants to sing a song with a band often accused of devil worship?”
A smile Eddie can’t really decipher circles his manager’s lips.
“Guess you’ll just have to ask her in person.”
-
When a person is repeatedly told they are meant for incredible things, they may grow up with a skewed vision of life. 
Thankfully, the only person that’s ever believed in you that much was your Nana and it was pretty hard to take her seriously considering her history — a lady who after an accidental pregnancy in her early-twenties, joined and later escaped a cult, then conned her way into marrying a Wall Street suit-man, before getting hooked on pills he was prescribed for some back injury he had. 
The man died before he could divorce her, leaving Nana his small fortune and a property in Greenwich Village. You didn’t even know his real name since every time she’s told the story she used a different one, and also changed other minor details.
So you never thought twice about her constant, “You’re going to be a star one day, baby girl.”. In retrospect, you should have. Perhaps it would have prepared you for the world of fame and fortune you were so briskly thrown into.
“Mom, please don’t fill her head with jargon. She’s just going to end up disappointed.”
That’s not to say your parents weren’t also supportive of your dreams. They were, although they believed them to be much smaller at scale, a nurse perhaps, an astronaut at best. Definitely not a popstar sensation and America’s sweetheart.
Your parents met at a charity function your Nana was a co-chair at and instantly clicked. Love at first sight, is how it was described in the paper for their engagement announcement not even a month later. Married shortly after and their first baby was born exactly a year later. Billy Wilder couldn’t write that shit even if he tried.
You always wanted to experience that kind of love.
The longing you endured every time you saw your parents interact was the reason you started writing poetry. Words a little too deep for a ten-year old girl to have actually experienced, but they felt right. By the time you were old enough to actually pursue a romantic relationship, you filled countless notebooks with poems that had actually turned into lyrics after your Nana encouraged to sponsor your piano lessons at age twelve and later guitar.
Ironic, really. Not meant to believe in your own potential success, but destined to think your happiness depended on somebody else.
Shortly after your twenty-first birthday, your Nana asked you to perform at one of her functions. A simple wish you had gratified many times before. 
“But you only sing the covers, okay? The material in your notepads is reserved for when you’re famous.” Nana would request, mainly ‘cause she liked when you sang Dusty Springfield.
This particular event started out like every other. What you didn’t know however, in the crowd, amongst the usual New York elite, were a few agents and talent scouts your Nana specifically invited to see you perform.
By the end of the night, you had a signed record deal. 
A week later, you were in the studio.
Lucky doesn’t begin to describe how you felt at that time. Although knowing your Nana, luck had nothing to do with it.
After the release of your debut single, you rocketed into overnight stardom. Quickly charting in various top lists, only proving your Nana had always been right. As a result, the late 80s were in fact a blur. The years were spent shooting music videos and various magazine covers, doing TV and radio interviews, touring, all on top of releasing more music. Aside from the casual hookup every now and again, carefully concealed with an NDA to preserve your image, finding love took a backburner. 
By the 1990s, you’d gone from being America’s sweetheart to a worldwide phenomenon.
It was at that point in time you remembered why you started writing poems in the first place. Completely by accident, as these things usually go.
While your life remained in New York, given your profession, you often travelled to Los Angeles. Late August of 1992, to be a bit more precise, there was this pool party you really had no business attending.
Holly — your makeup artist, close friend, and permanent plus one — used her perfectly manicured finger to stir the melting ice-cubes at the bottom of her glass. She said something about getting a refill, but you barely registered. Simply nodded at her words before pressing the glass you were holding to your lips. Your focus was somewhere else. Rather on someone else.
As Holly stood, you reach for her forearm and motion your head in the direction you wanted her to look in.
“Who’s that?” A simple question that ended up changing the remainder of your life.
Holly smirked. She turned back to you and you forced yourself to look away from the person in question, meeting your friends eyes instead. 
“Seriously?”
You furrowed your brows at her reaction, as if to say you really had no idea, and her gaze widened slightly when she realised you weren’t kidding.
“That’s Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin, remember I played you some of their songs? Anyway, this is his house, his party.”
With that, she took the half-empty drink from my grasp and walked away.
Eddie Munson, the name suited him, at least at face value. You had heard of Corroded Coffin before, but their music wasn’t really your style, hence why you never really bothered to learn anything more about them. Yet now, here you were, wishing you had cared a little more in the past ‘cause perhaps you’d have the courage to walk up to their frontman.
Eddie wore a black bandana, tied loosely only to shield him from the sun as his brown locks draped over his bare shoulders. A wide collection of ink art covered almost every inch of the skin on his arms and chest, legs too, at least the parts that weren’t covered by ripped denim shorts. There was a cigarette between his lips and it remained in position even while he was laughing. He was pretty. Judging by the crowd of girls around him, you weren’t the only one to notice.
Exhaling softly, you abandoned your spot on one of the lounge chairs and embarked on a mission to find Holly, or at least something else to drink. The back door to the house is open, so without really thinking, you slipped inside, straight into the kitchen.
Pristine. The entire space. Almost as if no one's ever cooked here, which now that you knew the owner, made sense. Not to completely judge a book by its cover, but Eddie didn’t look like the type of guy who enjoyed cooking all that much.
“The house is off limits.” 
A deep voice startled you. Jumping in your spot, you hit a corner of the stone centre island as you turned to address the person who walked in. Oh shit.
Eddie Munson’s eyes locked onto your frame, now that you are facing him fully. He licked his lips rather shamelessly as his gaze travelled the length of your bare legs and continued upwards until it reached your own. A shiver ran down your spine in the process ‘cause even though you were practically fully dressed, you felt completely naked.
“Sorry,” you were quick to apologise, “I was just looking for my friend.”
“The house is off limits,” Eddie repeated as he took a few steps closer.
“Again, I’m sorry. I really was just looking for someone,” you said and it was the truth, whether he believed it or now. “What are— What are you doing?”
“You’re bleeding.”
You glanced down at where his ring-clad fingers now met your skin, a tissue paper you didn’t even realise he grabbed, wrapped between them. He wiped slowly. His touch was soft, gentle even, which was surprising to you given his demeanour. 
“Wow, yeah. Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break into your house and then bleed in your kitchen.”
Eddie chuckled at your words. “You apologise a lot. Is that part of this act they have you doin’ or is it genuine?”
“Act?”
He nodded then straightened his posture. He tossed the dirty tissue to the side before taking your hand and leading you out of the kitchen. The way your fingers aligned together quite perfectly should’ve come with a warning sign, but you didn’t really think about that in the moment, more concerned with the fact he was pulling you away from the party.
“Where are we going?”
“Bathroom. Can’t have you bleeding out in my kitchen, sweetheart.” Eddie joked lightheartedly. “Plus wouldn’t want anyone taking a sneaky picture of us. Could start a bunch of nasty rooms. Good for my career, not so much yours.”
��Because of my act?”
“You get it.”
The master bedroom, you assume, is a lot larger in comparison to yours. A lot darker too, though that’s a given considering your opposite styles. Eddie was careful to lock the door behind the two of you before pointing to the bathroom and following after you.
“Sit.”
You obliged without question, positioning yourself on the sink. Eddie failed to conceal a ‘cause he didn’t think you’d do as you were told without putting up at least a bit of a fight. After all, he was a stranger with a reputation for doing ungodly things when alone with girls, but with your legs dangling off the edge, you didn’t seem tense or scared. In fact, if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d say you were quite comfortable and he liked it. So with a smile still circling his lips, he began his search for the first aid kit he knew he saw here last.
“Why do you think it’s an act?”
Eddie glanced at you briefly. There is a sense of urgency in your question, almost as if his answer, his opinion, actually mattered to you. Which it did. For whatever reason, his response had the potential to hurt you. If he thought you weren’t genuine, it would hurt you.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think you want my honesty.”
You half-scoffed. “Actually, I don’t remember the last time someone was actually honest with me about anything relating to my career.”
The answer shocked him a little. Then again it made sense. In the eyes of your management team and label, you were a money making machine. Nothing more than a pretty face with a pretty voice they used to make themselves rich.
“Even my own parents,” you continued, fidgeting with the bottom of your cotton shorts. “They were so adamant not to let my grandmother fill my head with hopes and dreams while I was growing up, but the second those hopes and dreams came true, it’s like they forgot they were still my parents and should sometimes be brutally honest.”
Pausing, you bit down on your bottom lip. From across the bathroom, Eddie's gaze immediately trailed down your face and settled on where your teeth sank into flesh. He licked his own, eyes darkening for a split second.
“Sorry, I’m oversharing,” you muttered, breaking him away from any sinful thoughts that wanted to break free. “Telling you my life story even though not even thirty minutes ago, I didn’t know your name.”
Eddie smirked, a cheshire-cat grin spreading across his features. “The only thing you should be apologising for, sweetheart, is the fact you came to my party and didn’t know who I was.”
“I get invited to a lot of parties,” you defended, involuntarily rolling your eyes at his not so subtle cockiness. “Suppose you think all the girls swoon at the chance to be near you, huh? Sorry to disappoint, I guess.”
“Well, shit. Talk about brutal honesty.” Eddie teased and ran a hand through his locks, taking off his bandana in the process. “Now I feel like a fucking creep ‘cause I seem to know quite a bit about you.”
“Whatever you know is clearly wrong since I’m not some character,” you interjected and he glanced at you once again. “I mean my whole thing wasn’t an act at first.”
“And now?”
You sighed. “It’s a little more complicated.”
That made him laugh. “See, that’s why I don’t let my label or management tell me shit. My band, my music, my style. If I wasn’t unapologetically myself, I’d go fucking insane.”
He eventually found the first aid kit and the plasters within. Back in front of you, he gently wiped the cut on your upper leg again, only this time with a wet towel, and carefully put a plaster over it.
“All done.”
“Thank you.”
His hand remained on your skin as he looked up to hold your gaze. In the sharp bathroom light, you realised just how perfectly brown his eyes are and you couldn’t help but wonder if anyone’s ever told him that. You secretly hoped they didn’t. A little lame, but you found yourself wanting to be at least his first something.
Eddie on the other hand, thought about how of all the people here tonight, he wound up alone with you. Pop royalty. American treasure. A girl that’s graced the cover of magazines and been on talk shows he would never feature on. A girl who sold millions of copies of songs he wouldn’t be caught dead listening to. A girl so vastly different from him, it only made him want you more.
Continuing to stare deep into his chocolate-button eyes, you lifted your arm and since Eddie didn’t flinch, you proceeded to loop a loose strand of his hair around your finger then let it go. Eddie’s heart jumped into his throat as you repeated the action — a sensation he’s never really experienced before.
How come you had this hold on him, seemingly out of nowhere? A simple smile and a modest tease had his mind racing. Not to mention the softness of your skin under his grasp you didn’t try to break away from. Perhaps that was it. You didn’t push him away. You also didn’t throw yourself at him. Those were the two extremes he usually experienced. Knowing you had just about learned who he was before the two of you landed in this situation was a refreshing change from the people usually breaking into his house.
“We can go back to the party, since you’re all patched up.” Eddie offered, though his actions betrayed his words as he effortlessly parted your legs with his knee, creating a gap he slid into perfectly.
“What’s the alternative?” You asked in a whisper.
“Whatever you want it to be,” he murmured, face now inches away from yours. A genuine smile graced your features as you wrapped your arms around the rockstars neck.
It may have moved a little too fast, though there were no complaints from either of you at the time. In fact, you both welcomed it. Losing yourself completely in the moment and this magnetic pull you felt towards one another was freeing. A spark ignited with a touch, then a kiss — and fuck was Eddie Munson a good kisser. 
His lips were tender, although his actions were rather harsh. Desperate even, as he squeezed your jaw with one hand and pushed his mouth into yours further. You returned the same energy, aching to be even closer. Heads rotating in perfect rhythm, you tugged at his hair and he groaned against your mouth at the slight pressure then lightly bit your bottom lip to force his tongue down your throat. 
He tasted of tobacco and whiskey. Normally that kind of shit puts you off, but with Eddie, it was honestly intoxicating. He quickly asserted dominance, tongue intertwining itself with yours as his ring-clad fingers dug into your flesh. You moaned into his mouth. The flame inside you burning brighter with every passing second. 
Eddie’s head was spinning. He pulled apart briskly, only to catch his breath before he dipped his head to your neck. Licking then biting, sucking and kissing. Both his hands were back on your waist and they effortlessly pulled you closer towards him, the bulge concealed by his denim shorts now pressing against your bare thigh. 
His name escaped you repeatedly in mere whispers and whimpers, and you felt Eddie’s mouth turn up into a smirk against your neck. “Fuck, sweetheart. Don’t stop makin’ them pretty noises for me.”
“Then don’t stop kissing me.”
A request he gladly obliged as his lips found yours once again. This kiss was slower than your first, but equally as passionate. His strong hands moved up, under the loose cover of your shirt until he reached your underboob.
“I was gonna complain about you wearing so much clothes to a fucking pool party, but…” Eddie draws out the last syllable as his thumbs grazes over your hard nipples. “... this way is so much better, sweetheart.”
“Then keep going,” you whisper, body screaming with desire, aching for more. Begging to be touched. Begging to be turned into a fire, tipped off with gasoline. 
This was a dangerous game you were playing, getting hooked on a man you had only really met. A rockstar at that. Your lives, although borderline the same, were completely different. Your gut kept telling you there was no future here, but your heart didn’t care. You’ve gotten an accidental taste of Eddie Munson and you only wanted more.
Thankfully, it seemed like Eddie had the same idea.
He removes his hands from your breasts and drops them down to the waistband of your shorts. He kissed you again as his fingers desperately worked at the single button acting as a guard between him and what he wanted most this very moment.
“Can you lift yourself for a moment, sweetheart?”
You do as you’re told, allowing Eddie to slide the shorts past the curve off your ass, before letting them fall down your legs and to the tiled floor. His dark eyes meet yours as he grabs onto your thighs, squeezing at the flesh. And he holds your gaze while his fingers work their way upwards. You don’t realise you’re holding your breath until he’s pulling your panties to the side.
Oh. Oh.
Eddie’s running a finger up and down the length of your slit, proud to feel how soaked you already were. The light teasing continued as he added another finger and you flinched at the first contact to your clit. He was relentless. Taking his time as you tried to arch your pelvis into his fingers, only to be met with a hand around your jaw, “Stop that.”
Releasing your face, he stroked his fingers downward, then up again, finally letting a finger linger on the hood of your clit. He began to draw little circles so that the skin moved over the head, rhythmically exposing and covering it.
“Eddie…” you drawled and he groaned at the sound of his name in your desperate tone of voice. So he didn’t waste any more time, slipped two ring-clad fingers easily between your folds and you shuddered at the cold of the metal. He repeated the action over and over, faster and applying more pressure with each time. 
His mouth found yours once again, only this time he didn’t kiss you. Not really. Instead, his teeth latched onto your bottom lip and as you whined desperately while his curled fingers repeatedly hit that sweet spot inside you, he bit down harder. 
He fucked his fingers in and out of you. It was messy, rough, ecstatic. Then your back arched as he used his other hand to rub against your clit.
“Oh shit, fuck. Eddie, please don’t stop…” 
You let your head fall backwards, eyes closing. Within seconds, a shuddering orgasm overcame you, but with steady control, Eddie kept going for what seemed like a minute. Only once you began to relax, he eased his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, licking them clean.
“How you doin’, sweetheart?”
A content hum was all you could offer. Satisfied, Eddie smiled to himself and placed a sloppy kiss to the slant of your jawline.
“Are you okay to keep going?”
You looked back at him then and bopped your head once, slowly. “Yeah… Yes.”
His devilish grin widened. “Good girl. Hold tight.”
Hands shifting to the curve of your ass as you wrapped your legs tight around him, Eddie lifted you up with little to no effort and carried you towards the bed. He didn’t take much care to drop you gently so you bounced against the mattress while he hastily removed his pants and crawled over you, grinding down into you — unsurprising, he’d gone commando.
He began to rotate his hips so that his cock was massaging back and forth across your semi-clothed cunt. He alternated his movements; sometimes slowed them down while other times increasing speed. His lips were glued to your neck in the moment, only adding to the pure exhilaration you were experiencing, while he worked to unbutton your shirt, spreading it to the side.
Forehead pressed yours, he glanced down briefly to admire your now naked chest. Your nipples were rapidly erect as Eddie proceeded to move his hands around them, massaging the tissue of your breasts. With splayed fingers, he squeezed and released, then lightly pulled the flesh, while his teeth attached themselves to your earlobe.
The teasing was relentless. “Eddie… Oh Eddie, please,” you whined quietly and another moan escaped your lips, louder this time. 
The brunette on top of you groaned a mere second later. Unable to contain himself any longer, he tugged at your panties. Just as eager, you lifted your ass so he could slide the remaining garment off and toss it. Now you were naked in front of him, only the cotton shirt covering your arms.
“Shit, sweetheart. You’re so fucking beautiful.” Eddie whispered and lightly ran his fingers up and down your leg, while the other hand reached to cup your cheek. He leaned down to kiss you again. “My pretty girl.”
Heat rushed between your legs at the moniker. They parted a little more, desperate to increase the contact between the two of you. 
“Let me grab a condom,” Eddie muttered against your bare skin and you nodded, releasing your hold on him momentarily ‘cause you didn’t want any accidental pregnancies with a potential to ruin your career, and even his. 
Staring up at the ceiling, you heard him rummage through his bedside table. He’s back in your field of vision within seconds. There’s a look on his face that reads “are you sure you wanna do this”, and you tangle your fingers in his locks in response, pulling him closer.
Eddie lets his cock fall between your parted legs. He’s back to teasing you as he’s spreading your folds with the head of his dick, until it flicks over your clit. And you tug at his curls in the process, but he doesn’t care. A lustful look in his eyes. One that says, I can do this all night. Which he proves as the tip of his cock dragged across the entrance to your glistening cunt. Your legs would close slightly as if to trap it in that position. Eddie however, remained in full control.
“Please, please…” you begged against his hot mouth, “Please just fuck me. Fuck me, Eddie.”
He smirked. “Didn’t think America’s starlet was such a desperate fucking slut.”
With that, Eddie slammed the full length of his cock into you. No longer teasing. He was driving into your sodden cunt with a force that shook your entire body. His now glistening cock plunging in and out of you with ease. You were meeting his thrusts as best as you could while trapped under his massive frame.
To say you were experiencing a state of ecstasy you had never known before while fucking a man you’d only met an hour or so ago, would be a vast understatement. You felt dizzy and breathless as each stroke of his thick cock against your walls ignited the fire already burning bright. The sounds you were making were absolutely pornographic and in that moment, you were grateful Eddie locked the door ‘cause if anyone from the party were to come looking for him, or you, well let’s just say Page Six would have something interesting to write about, for once. This was a site to be seen.
Eddie leaned forward on his elbows, not like it was possible to be any closer but he sure as hell tried. One of his hands enveloped itself around your neck, while the other found your perfect tits. He alternated, kneading them and teasing your nipples, earning another sweet moan to escape through your parted lips. Then he lightly squeezed your neck and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
“Such a pretty girl,” Eddie muffled into your ear. “Fuck, baby. I don’t know what you’ve done to me. Just wanna fuck you forever.” He meant it. Your pussy felt amazing wrapped around his cock. Better than he imagined. Better in fact than anyone he’d ever been with. 
The room was filled with sick sounds, from the squeaking of the bed, Eddie’s grunts and gruffs, to the pounding your aching cunt was receiving. You had completely given yourself over to the rawness of the situation, although it’s not like you had any inhibitions in the first place.
As Eddie continued to whisper dirty things into your ear, the length of his shaft sliding in and out of you with unnatural force, you buried your head in the crook of his neck, muffling only slightly your increasing guttural groans with each of his thrusts. And as your fingers abandoned his locks, trailing instead down his back, fingernails digging into his tattooed skin, you knew another climax was fast approaching.
“Eddie,” you barely muttered.
“Come on, baby. That’s it. Shit—”
He’s panting as he squeezes your neck again, recreating the pressure your throbbing cunt was feeling. That pushed you over the edge. Everything falls to a standstill as you come undone around him, crying out his name as if he was some sort of god; which in this moment, he might as well have been.
He didn’t give you a second to recover, continuing to fuck into you with such heedlessness, his own orgasm follows shortly after. He dropped on top of you and you gasped at the next few sharp thrusts, although slower than before right up until he cums.
“Fuck— Pretty girl, takes me so well.” Eddie breathed, completely blissed out.
The two of you lay there for a few moments longer, trying to catch your breaths. Everything was quite peaceful as you brushed his hair away from his face, gently forcing him to look at you. You offer him a smile. One he returns quite gladly.
Usually at this point, Eddie’s doing everything he can to get rid of the other person, but with you it felt different. He wanted you here for as long as you’d stay. 
So, even though he didn’t admit it out loud, he was more than a little happy when you openly asked if you could “stick around” a little longer, maybe even fall asleep with him that night.
-
The last time Eddie had seen you, you were picking up your scattered garments off his bedroom floor before getting dressed. It was early. Too early for him, but you had a shoot you needed to get to and he wanted to kiss you goodbye.
“Promise not to break into any more houses, sweetheart.” Eddie teased against your plush lips, hand cupping your cheek.
“Just yours,” you teased back and kissed him, then again, and again. “I’ll call you later, ‘kay?”
He almost didn’t let you go. He almost pulled you back under the covers for round three and four, and when you didn’t call his place later that day, he kinda wished he had. He hung around by the phone waiting for it to ring, then he felt pathetic for doing so.
The last time Eddie heard from you was a week later. He was back at the studio, working on a song he didn’t want to admit to his bandmates was actually about you. A girl he had no business being hung up on.
It was just one night, he would tell himself, but it was no use.
“Eddie,” Marianne hailed him and pointed to the phone, “Phone call for you.”
The curly-haired rocker exhaled a puff of smoke and picked up the receiver. “Hello. Who’s this?”
“Hey, sorry.” 
His heart stopped ‘cause he recognised that voice anywhere. He shifted in his position, turning his back on the rest of the people gathered in the room just so they wouldn’t be able to read the expression on his face — longing.
“I know I said I’d call the second I finished at that shoot, but it went well into the night and honestly I just worried I'd wake you,” you explained. “Then I had a morning flight back to New York, a luncheon my grandmother had me attend plus some other family shit… Anyway, I just wanted to call and apologise, hope you’re not too upset with me.”
He was upset. Although the knowledge of that was a power he couldn't relinquish. Usually, he wasn't the one waiting around for the other person. He was upset he let you cloud his thoughts after only one night — as fucking fun as it may have been.
“It’s okay,” Eddie lied, 'cause it was easier than to say he missed you. “Honestly, sweetheart, I forgot you even said you’d call.”
There was a second of silence in which the rock star closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing while you fought back tears he didn’t even know he caused.
“Right. I guess honesty is what I asked for…” you muttered coldly. “See you around, Eddie.”
The line went dead. Beep. Beep. Beep. Eddie pressed the receiver to his forehead, his grip around it tightening. “Motherfucker—”
“All good?” Jeff asked.
“Yeah man,” Eddie lied again before turning back to the group. “Just some one night stand who mixed up the signals a little. Thought we’d be going out a second time, but I don’t do that shit.”
Not even one year later, that same exact “one night stand” stood in front of Eddie once more and you looked even better than that night last August. Your skin was glowing, or perhaps that was just the dim studio light. Your makeup was definitely a lot sharper and it only highlighted your already near perfect facial structure. Then there was your outfit. Dressed in a short denim skirt, tight on your curves and held snug in place around your waist with a belt he knew was more expensive than anything he’s ever owned, the bottom was paired with a white cashmere turtleneck, short sleeved and cut right above your belly button.
Eddie swallowed thickly. He swore he’d gotten over whatever spell you put him under back then, but as you greeted his bandmates with the biggest smile on your face, looking as good as you did, his heart skipped a beat or two.
“And our frontman, Eddie Munson.” Marianne introduced, glancing at Eddie with an encouraging look on her face.
The curly-haired man wiped his sweaty palms on the sticky pleather of his pants and extended his right hand in your direction. You looked at it briefly, the smile on your face faltering.
“We’ve met before,” is all you said, without even looking at him once, before turning to Marianne. “Should we just get started? I listened to the song, I have no notes, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”
Marianne glanced at Eddie then back at you. “Uhm, yeah, sure. Of course. Right this way.”
Eddie’s sad puppy-dog gaze followed you across the room. He observed silently as Marianne propped you in front of the microphone and handed you a set of headphones. He desperately wanted you to look at him. He wanted your eyes to lock with his ‘cause perhaps an unspoken apology offered only by a single exchange of glances would be enough to get you on the right track. But you didn’t.
“What the fuck did you do?” Gareth muttered next to him.
“I fucked up, man.” Eddie answered honestly this time. “Fucked up pretty bad.”
Gareth knew better than to press on the matter further, especially in front of everyone else, so he gently smacked Eddie’s back instead. It was a silent set of condolences, one Eddie definitely didn’t deserve since this was all his fault.
The band had all taken their places. Jesus Christ, he was really in for an unbearable day and he had no one to blame but himself. Sighing silently, Eddie crossed the studio and stood at the microphone, placed only a feet away from yours.
He stole another glance. You still refused to look at him, focusing instead on the carpet between your feet, hands on your hips.
“You know what I’m gonna say,” Marianne began, “But the day I don’t say it, is gonna be the day we make a shit piece of art so, here goes: good luck and have some fucking fun!” Then she disappeared into the other room, behind the glass.
An unsettling silence filled the air.
Usually Eddie would take the lead, but he found himself incapable. His attention was solely focused on you. Every inch of him wanted to shout, beg for any sort of acknowledgement. You continued to give him nothing and he thought you weren’t ever going to look at him again. 
But then you did and frankly, that was much worse.
“Honesty, take one,” you said into the microphone while staring deadpan at the rockstar beside you. Confirming, without saying much else, that you knew this song he wrote was in fact about you.
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part two
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watatsumiis · 8 months
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neuvillette with patches of scales. discuss.
HELLO YES. YES. IM SORRY I LET THIS SIT FOR A WHILE IVE BEEN GATHERING MY THOUGHTS ON IT !!
heads up, i havent caught up with the 4.1 story quests or anything just yet, so apologies if anything is inaccurate/against canon <3
im a big advocate for "give more genshin characters blatantly inhuman features" honestly, and obviously neuvillette is no exception
i imagine that, like with the adepti and youkai (in my version of teyvat anyways), most creatures with the power to take on a human form have the ability to pick what physical attributes will be masked and what will be visible/tangible, however the drawback is that the more 'human' they look, the more 'human' they will be (something about divine powers being stored in that which is divine/inhuman, idk)
Neuvillette likes to appear at least human-passing on a surface level, so he keeps his 'inhuman' features to a minimum. His antennae/horns/handles/what-have-you allow him to pick up insanely subtle vibrations in the air that give him a bit of a better insight into how those around him are feeling. It gives him an empath sort of vibe, though he doesn't always know exactly what to do with the information he's given.
I feel like he definitely does have scaly patches, though they're much more prominent underneath his clothing. They tend to cluster around his soft, vulnerable parts as an extra layer of defense just in case something bad were to happen to him (he's aware that his place as the Iudex and his loyalty to the letter of the law causes a lot of people to hate him).
The ones on his back are a deep blue, almost black if it's dark enough, and his front ones are a very very very light blue with an iridescent sheen (like how sharks have light patches on their bellies so they blend in to prey from above). his 'stomach' scales tend to be larger, softer and rounder than his back ones.
I think there's a smattering of scales on the front of his neck that you can just see above his high collar if he cranes his neck enough - there's also scales on his wrists, chest, lower stomach, armpits, inner elbows and knees.
in addition to this, i imagine him having big, platelike scales all down his spine that almost overlap each other. im thinking potentially a snake's vertebral scales, but im also rather fond of how crocodile scales look. Sometimes these can cause a bit of grief for him, as they're fairly tough, thick scales and if he has a long day of sitting up straight while appearing in court, the added pressure can cause his back to ache quite badly.
If he were to take on a more 'monsterlike' form (like if he were threatened and immediately needed more access to his powers without fully transforming), this patch would sort of expand out into a big line of spines and fins (a little like what is pictured below, but bluer and bigger)
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Accompanying the scales in his humanoid form, i imagine he has some vitiligo-like patches of lighter skin that are almost imperceptible unless you're really close thanks to his pale complexion. They tend to group towards his shoulders, back, stomach and legs. HOWEVER he also has bunches of them that are so small theyre almost like inverted freckles! (these are on his cheeks, arms, hands, across his collarbone, etc)
some of them may light up (like his horn thingies do!) when he's having trouble managing his emotions (usually anger, but they may also glow when he's really really happy! i like to think that intelligent water-dwelling creatures such as him have nonverbal ways of communicating underwater). On top of that, they also glow under blacklights!
Anyways, this got a fair bit longer than intended and is a little all over the place - thank you to anybody who took the time to read this, and thanks Arden for sending in the ask, it was a delight to infodump about! :D
Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagiarise my writing! I do not consent for my works to be translated and posted elsewhere, or copy - pasted into bot or AI technology.
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woeswrites · 1 year
Text
Fidus Achates
Capulus
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To his team, Spencer has only ever been treated as an encyclopedia. Only when they're at a loss do they search through his pages. He is used and used, but is never once appreciated. Maybe that is what motivated him to seek a confidant. Someone who can sympathize with him and see him for what he truly is; a person and not just a machine spitting out facts (though he can do that too).
Or... Spencer Reid seeks out a therapist and realizes he has some boundary issues, to say the least
Pairing: yan!Spencer Reid x male!OC
Word count: 1,031
Notes: Don't expect quick updates to this. I'm a very inconsistent writer. Editing constantly
"Hello, this is the office of Dr. Ward, correct?"
A well-kept and most likely middle aged receptionist took a break from her string of typing to look up. The nameplate displayed front and center on her marbled counter read “Karla Thompson, Front Desk Representative”.
"You’re in the right place, name please."
She held a tight (yet appropriately polite) smile on her face. She didn’t appear displeased but it was evident she had a lot on her hands.
"Spencer."
The woman held eye contact expectantly.
"Oh right- uh, Spencer Reid". She punched in something before responding.
"It seems your new here. You'll need to fill out these-" Just before Karla could finish grabbing a stack of forms to drop on him, Spencer reached into his leather satchel.
“-Actually…” Reid slipped a standard folder labeled ‘WARD’ out of his bag and onto the countertop. "I filled them all out already.” The woman was a bit surprised but reached over nonetheless. “I can get pretty busy so I figured I would do all this desk work prior to coming in. It has been shown to save up to…" His words began to fade as he realized he was going off again. "Sorry." Karla nodded and opened up the manila casing. She seemingly glanced through the materials.
"You're lucky, our doctors have been running ahead of schedule today. Doesn't happen very often." She shook her head at her comment. "Listen, you'll need to head down to the last door on your left." The long acrylic pasted to her index finger directed Spencer toward the nearest hallway. "The doctor should be waiting for you in there." Spencer gave a curt nod as a formality.
Before he had even left the desk Karla was typing away again. The clacking was audible all the way from the nearly empty waiting room to the mahogany door inscribed with the name 'Malakai Ward'. Spencer lifted his hand up in a loose fist before rapping his knuckles against the wood. A muffled voice granted him entrance.
Spencer hadn't planned for the sudden wave of dark roast that hit his nostrils. It wasn't particularly on brand for a doctor's office, which he usually associated with more of a soap-like aroma, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't help soothe his nerves a little. Spencer was latching on to any bit of familiarity her could around here.
"Oh hello! Dr. Reid is it?"
"Huh?" Too entranced in his senses Spencer completely missed the figure standing in front of him. A tall caucasian male, approximately 27 years in age and 6 feet 3 inches in height.
‘Definitely young for someone in his profession, so there’s a high probability for an above average IQ.’
"Oh yes. Though, I would prefer if you just called me Spencer." Being addressed by that title in this situation felt a little odd.
"Alright, Spencer it is. It is very nice to meet you."
"Uh, yes, it is nice to meet you too Doctor." He was not the type to physically greet people like this, but he was unsure of exactly how he should be approaching this situation.
As a profiler, it’s not uncommon for Spencer to take in the appearance of those around him. In fact, it would be far more strange if he ignored the attributes of someone before him.
As such, all of the man's features were quickly being jotted down and stored in his mental files. Dr. Ward wore a brown curled haircut, a pair of metal-framed reading glasses, and some light stubble. His general attributes were pretty common, but a closer look reveals an amalgamation of attractive features.
Dr. Ward smiled and reciprocated the gesture. He definitely seemed more comfortable than Spencer during the interaction. The later retracted his hand in a calculated way (trying not to focus too much on the skin to skin contact) and stood awkwardly. "I believe I mentioned on the phone the reason for my reaching out to you."
"Yes, I believe you did. It's not every day that an FBI member contacts me after all." A polite laugh was exchanged as Dr. Ward motioned for the two of them to take a seat on his office chairs. "I remember finding it strange that you sought an outside professional instead of contacting a therapist whom you work alongside." Spencer took a seat on the surprisingly comfortable chair across from the doctor.
"Well, that was my intention really. I wanted to be able to speak to someone who wasn't affiliated with my... work situation."
"So, to my understanding, you have come to me in order to find someone who will listen-" Dr. Ward glanced down briefly to his notes before continuing “As you believe many of the people in your life are not willing to. Did I get that right?" Hearing those words out loud stung a little.
"It appears so..." Spencer adjusted his sweater vest at the collar.
"Don't worry, it is a relatively common occurrence in this field." The doctor offered a smile. "And I am more than happy to help you with that Spencer. You will always have my undivided attention while you are here."
Spencer's eyes widened slightly from the sincerity of the response but he quickly returned to his normal composure. This whole situation was more than embarrassing for the young wiz kid so it was comforting to know that someone wasn’t judging him for making this move. The opposite actually.
“Before we begin, have you ever had a therapist before me?” Spencer shook his head no. “That’s alright. I’m just going to briefly ask you some standard questions to help me further understand how I can best assist you throughout this process. Is that okay with you?” Spencer looked around the room for a second, gathering small bits and pieces as he did.
'Dog person'
'Hockey fan'
'Big on literature'
All of this information helped Spencer gather a better sense of who this person was behind his doctorate. It helped soothe his nerves a little knowing that, he too, was a normal person with hobbies, likes, and dislikes.
Spencer nodded, allowing the doctor to proceed.
"Alright, well lets get started then, shall we?"
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