#but yes i am over invested in this show being good i should just never have expectations i learned this lesson 10 years ago

[semiconducting]

more bitching about td23 season 2 lol

i think the thing that bothers me the most about the recent total drama season is just that there was absolutely zero desire for characters to grow or have a complete arc of any kind. emma got to do nothing, just started the season broken up with chase but didn't really get to form any new relationships (or make up w her bestie from last season.......bowie and emma i miss u) before she left. the cheating in challenges arc between bowie and raj never got solved. priya's entire storyline revolved around caleb and there is no conclusion to be had from their plot, they got together even though caleb is a shitty spineless noncomittal boyfriend to her. caleb Has this issue and nothing comes of it except for like cheap "tension" in the ep where priya gets eliminated. julia has Nothing going for her except that she's Mean and she's Good At The Game and is the reason behind HALF of ALL THE ELIMINATIONS and it all happens OFF!!! SCREEN!!! like heather had mad plot armour in her seasons but god at least she was fun to watch. zee did nothing, not nearly as entertaining as he was last season. they set up a GREAT opportunity for scary girl to come back for Vengeance after being eliminated in the first ep and then do Nothing to follow up. mk is literally glued to julia at the hip and gets no time to shine on her own. BOWIE gets eliminated IMMEDIATELY when the teams merge???? axel and ripper having nothing going for them after they get together and overstay their welcome. DAMIEN! DOESN'T! GET! TO! KEEP! HIS! IMMUNITY! IDOL! and we don't fucking see julia actually take it from him!!!!!!!!!! it's just like they didn't bother with Any interesting plot decisions for any character just to prop up julia who herself doesn't even get to be entertaining. she has some funny lines, sure, but she takes up so much gaddamn screentime and for WHAT.

[ozzgin]

Its been 6 months😭😭 pleaasseeee make a part 2 of the android x human story im beggingggg😭

-H❤️

Yandere! Android x Reader (II)

Featuring your assigned android partner who is not as devoid of humanity as you originally thought.

Content: female reader, AI yandere, mildly NSFW, based on Caves of Steel

[Part 1] | [More original works]

The case had been solved.

Not only that, but you'd managed to prove that human officers were just as efficient as their robot counterparts. The Commissioner was beyond ecstatic, pacing back and forth in his office and finding new ways to praise your detective skills.

"That'll show those Spacers. They think some glorified tin box can match our skill?"

You frowned at his words and glanced to your side, where the android was sitting. He observed the Commissioner with the same polite smile, no hint of disagreement on his features. Was he not insulted? You questioned him once the formal meeting had finished.

"I have no reason to be offended, (Y/N). It is a personal opinion, and thus I have no control over it."

"So you don't mind people disliking robots to such an extent?"

He pondered your statement.

"I would certainly be upset if it was you who harbored the disdain. The beliefs of other humans hold no meaning to me otherwise."

You couldn't tell if he said it out of politeness, or if he actually meant it. Most likely the former, in order to part on good terms. After all, your partnership has reached its completion. He'd return to the Spacer Colony with his report on human customs, and you'd go back to your regular job.

Except he never left. Days later, he was still sipping on his morning coffee, lounging at your table. You fiddled with your cup in contemplation. Was there anything else left to do?

"When are you leaving, actually?"

The pale man raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.

"Is my presence here of such significant disturbance?"

"What? No!" you swiftly exclaimed, stumbling on your words. His lips widened in yet another cheeky grin. He was teasing you again.

"My assignment on Earth is done, thus I should have returned to the Colony already. That's what you're wondering about, yes? I am awaiting a response from my superiors."

"Whether you can go back?"

"No, whether my transfer has been accepted. I have applied to be your permanent partner."

You could feel your cheeks burning with heat. Was it that obvious to the synthetic that you enjoyed his company? Then again, he wouldn't have gone through such motions just for your sake.

"Why did you..." you probed sheepishly. There was no logical reason for him to keep working in a poorer, less advanced environment.

"Because I want to continue spending time with you."

Nonsense. An artificial being wouldn't make its decision based on such mundane, emotional reasons.

"I don't believe you."

"I understand. It is a faulty answer to come out of a machine. Though unlike common AI assistants, we have been invested with the capacity to develop likes and dislikes. Interests. Wants. It helps with variety and individualization."

"And you want to stay here? If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you have a crush on me or something", you attempted to joke.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence. Had you gone too far with your humor? Was it too cliché of a sentence? You turned away, tucking some strands of hair behind your ear. You just had to be witty, huh?

"I'm afraid I do not know what to tell you, (Y/N)."

"You don't need to say anything, it was a poor choice of-"

"Many social aspects have been implemented into my behavioral network. Workplace rapport, friendships, intimate relationships. What seems to be lacking is the transition from one to another. I know how to act as a romantic partner, but how does one achieve such a title in the first place?"

You gazed at him, incredulous. What was he trying to say?

"I am trying to convey that I am indeed infatuated with you. Which, then, makes my initial explanation dishonest: while I do appreciate our fruitful work cooperation, it is not a main reason for my decision. I hope this clears up any misunderstandings."

You'd never been a romantic. You sometimes flipped through sample pages of contemporary romance books at stores and community centers, but they always felt forcefully cheesy. Predictable. Consequently, you never had any grand dreams of passionate confessions under the rain.

On the other hand, you also didn't expect to be asked out in such a mechanical, calculated manner. Or that a machine would be the suitor. Yet there was something charming about his approach. For the first time since meeting him at the border, you saw him struggle. There was something human-like in his uncertainty.

You stood up from the table, and walked towards the android. Then, you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, expressing the mutual feeling and understanding.

His eyes bore an eerie glint to them. It was most kind of you to offer a common ground, but he knew better. The affections you held for him were, with utmost certainty, a mere fraction of whatever overwhelmed him from the moment he encountered you. Limerence, obsession, compulsion, there were many definitions that aptly described his otherwise unexplainable desires towards you. Even more unexplainable was the fact they'd evolved from a blank slate, a programmed agent with no previous knowledge on feelings or humans.

You noticed his hesitation.

"Is there anything else troubling you presently?" you nudged.

Nothing of immediate urgency. Well, not for you, at least. The android remained thoughtful. What were the variables which needed to be met in order to initiate a sexual encounter? Would it have been inappropriate for him to suggest intercourse straight after this conversation? To him, it was a natural escalation he'd considered many times in the past. To you, it could've come as a sudden, crass, and hurried proposal.

He reached for your wrist and discreetly pressed a thumb against your skin. Judging from your resting heart rate, facial expression, and localized temperature, there was a fair chance you wouldn't reject his advances. Once the statistical risk had been assessed, he pulled you in for a kiss.

"Would it be possible to continue this in your bedroom?" he inquired, standing up.

"Alright, just don't...ask for approval for every single step" you retorted. You'd rather not become a narrator of your own pounding.

You open your eyes with a squint, greeted by unexpected natural light flooding your bedroom. Someone must’ve lifted the hologram blinds.

“My apologies, I hadn’t considered the discomfort it would cause you. My Spacer colony uses artificial lightning, though I am becoming rather fond of the natural sun rays here.”

Your android partner is meticulously preparing his outfit for the day. Judging by the stark nakedness and the glistening skin, you suppose he’s had a shower while you were still sleeping. You involuntarily furrow your brows and blush at the sight. He notices your embarrassment. 

“A most surprising reaction. You have seen the very same genital organ…”, he says as he quickly checks his wristwatch, “...precisely eight hours and forty-five minutes ago.”

“It’s just…most people get dressed once they start doing other things. I also wear a towel for coverage when I come out of the shower.”

He processes your words.

“Hmmm. Illogical, but it explains your reaction.”

You stand up and stretch with a prolonged yawn. Suddenly, a revelation hits you: your mind flashes with images of the android fondling your body, your ears ring with the shameless moans you’ve let out throughout the night. Your face turns pale.

“Listen, when is your next functional inspection?” you ask, without waiting for the synthetic to answer. “Will they, uh…will they have access to all of your memories?”

You know that the android permanently records all data and saves it into a memory unit. It’s a pointless fear, of course. The Spacers couldn’t care less about irrelevant details. If the intended tasks are fulfilled, what happens on the side is out of their concern. Yet you don’t exactly appreciate the possibility of your personal deeds airing like this, before the eyes of multiple engineers. 

“You may rest assured, whatever involves your privacy will not be included in the examination.”

“Do you get to decide what is checked and what isn’t?”

“No, most data is sampled randomly.”

You stare at him, confused.

“Then how-”

“It is not common practice, nor encouraged by our code of ethics. I can, however, choose which information is available to begin with.”

“What? I thought you’re fully controlled by whoever created you. If they so desired, couldn’t they open you up and take whatever they require?”

The robot smiles at your assumption and takes a few steps towards you.

“Once an android model is finished, one can no longer modify the processor. Not without compromising everything else with it. It is not a device to be deconstructed, (Y/N).” He taps his temple, then continues: “I am a biocomputer. While most of my parts are mechanical, my processor is a cortical organoid developed in a laboratory. A human brain, if you will.”

Somehow, the discovery fills you with dread. A living organ, encapsulated within a machine. What does that say about consciousness? About self-awareness? The Spacers didn't just tinker with metal scraps and smart computers. They artificially birthed life.

You were always under the impression that your robot companion is closer to the computer you have on your desk. Billions of lines of code within a black box, which then lead to spontaneous, novel interactions with the outside world. To think that at the very core of his functions lies a clump of living cells...

Perhaps you weren't so different, after all. The line between machines and humans is suddenly blurred.

[carowleysposts]

Good Omens makes me feel scary things. Let’s talk about it.

So, before I start, I think it’s important to clarify that I am neurodivergent. I have autism and GO is one of my strongest hyper-fixations ever. I am so emotionally and mentally invested in it I could talk about it for days on end and every single detail of this show makes me love it more.

But there’s a really really dark flip side to this love, and I would love to see if there’s anyone else who struggles with it too:

I think I care a little too much.

Although I am aware that this is somewhat “common” for people in the spectrum and my doctors all have confirmed I am not a complete nut case for it, I almost never feel comfortable admitting to those in my life that a piece of fiction has such a strong hold on me and my mental health. And as much as I love everything we’ve seen so far, all the little things I hear and read about season three give me heart-stopping waves of anxiety that are definitely not normal.

Like, I am constantly scared of what will happen, as if it was happening to me. And I know it’s embarrassing, but my brain is simply wired differently, and it feels so awful not being able to talk about it with my friends in real life.

Sometimes I feel like my day is ruined because I read someone say that they think S3 won’t have a happy ending, or that they probably won’t kiss or end up together or something bad like that. And even though I know it’s just fiction, it gives me stomach knots, as it is such a powerful part of my life and I think about is so much.

I have even come as far as to take breaks from Tumblr and mute some words on some social media platforms so that I won’t read Neil’s responses to questions - because they ALSO make me fear terribly and give me crippling anxiety, like when he said it won’t be romantic, or when he says stuff that make me worry for the future - and won’t hear speculation or even be reminded of other stuff people say.

And before anyone asks: Yes! I am fully aware it sounds absurd. And yes, i absolutely do feel crazy and embarrassed about it, but unfortunately this is the reality of many people in the spectrum and many neurodivergent people in general.

I do work, I am a ballet teacher and an author, so of course I have many other things to worry about and do and of course I have a life full of responsibilities and relationships and different pursuits to keep me from actually thinking about it nonstop. But still, even though I am busy and distracted most of the time, every now and then these feelings and worries come and punch me in the gut, and it completely paralyzes me for long moments. I feel kinda sick? I don’t know.

So I guess what I am trying to ask is: do you guys know of anyone who feels the same? Like, is there anyone else who feels like their mind has been absolutely taken over by fiction-related anxiety? And also: what should I do about it? I feel like absolutely no other piece of fiction compares to this one, and my mind simply won’t stop.

Help pls.

[stevenose]

☾₊ ⊹ reaching for the moon (18+)

pairing: steve x fem!reader with afab anatomy

contains: smut and a dumb amount of world building that was not necessary for this. set in 30s nyc, no hawkins. old money!steve; husband!steve; art historian!steve; not rich whatsoever!reader; they’re married your honor; steve’s parents (they’re the worst <3); slut shaming; allusions to bisexual steve; brief homophobia; soft!steve!!! he’s so damn soft!!!!; period typical everything lol

you might want to know: steve smokes and reader takes a drag; heated arguments which lead to some implied homophobia; reader wears an evening gown with a corset; car sex (info on said car here, for clarity sake)

author’s note: this is very heavily inspired by titanic 1997 (obviously) because it’s been rotting my brain. it’s very self indulgent but i’m hoping others like it!!

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It’s always the same. A party, an invitation in the mail, embossed with gold foil. Steve fuming because they could have walked over instead of paying for postage, or called him on the telephone. Each time both of you thinking it’ll be different, each time leaving with Steve’s wounded ego or anger levels at an all time high. You don’t know why you torture yourselves other than the fact that his mother will make a tremendous deal out of it when you don’t show up. She’s not above telling guests gossip of your marriage when you’re not around, just so it can get back to you and hurt you again.

Your issue lies with both of them. Steve’s issue lies with his father. Old, rich, stupid. Too well-known for being a lawyer for companies that should be shuttered and closed for violations and accidents. A union buster. And Steve’s biggest critic.

He never wants to hear about Steve’s studies or projects. His mind appears to me hyper-focused on Steve’s shortfalls - no military experience, no investments, married to a poor girl he met at a bar in Manhattan. Steve is everything his father detests, and vice verse.

To his credit, Steve tries, even when he doesn’t want to. He talks to his mother first while she stares at you like you’re venomous. She’s good at reeling in her disappointment. Steve’s her only child and you figure she doesn’t want to lose that. His father, on the other hand, is closer to Steve’s cousins - successors of big oil, engineers, military men.

You smile at her while Steve tells her about his recent trip to Florence, about the chapels and art. You’re wearing her diamonds around her neck. You know she wants to strike them from you. You’d say you clean up well, wearing one of the tens of dresses Steve’s purchased for you, custom made and tailored. Satin and lace and silk, only the finest. His mother thinks she can still smell alcohol and cigarette smoke on you. She detests your miserable background, how unladylike and uneducated you are, that you’ve worked where women shouldn’t and have done things she’d consider unforgivable sin.

“They’d mix pigments with egg -“

“Egg?”

“Right, yes, they called it tempura. And the pigments - Jesus, should’ve been there to see Giotto’s blue, so rich and -“

“Are you talking about those paintings again?”

Steve tenses and turns to face his father. Your face falls slightly.

“I am.”

“How much was that trip, anyway?” his father presses. He gives you a wink as if you’re in on the joke. “Certainly more than your engagement ring?”

You clench your fist within its satin glove. The gold, Art Deco band digs into your ring finger. Steve’s jaw tenses.

“Not a penny more,” he says cooly. He adjusts his suit coat. His adams apple bobs under the stark white collar of his shirt. “Not that it’d matter, right?”

And Steve’s now doing your favorite thing, where he’ll pretend he actually agrees with his parent’s ridiculous world views until they pick up on the sarcasm. Your eyes meet and the corner of your mouth lifts slightly, but you’re back to being stone faced a moment later.

“Of course not!” his father bellows, hitting Steve on the shoulder like he’s a long time friend and not his son. He looks at you now. For reasons unexplained, his father likes you. Probably for some perverted reason, you figure. “And how’d you fare without him at home?”

“Probably enjoyed company downtown,” his mother says.

“I did.” You look at Steve again, speaking to him with a language only you two understand. It’s okay. “Don’t worry. I hardly had ten glasses of beer.”

His father laughs loudly again, making guests crane their necks to look. His mother narrows her eyes at you but smiles curtly.

“How wonderful.”

“And you’re all right with him going off overseas?” his father presses. “To go look at crumbling paintings and enjoy boat rides in that dirty canal?”

“Not any dirtier than the city, I’m sure,” you say, now taking Steve’s arm in yours. His jaw is set. “Besides, I like hearing about what he’s seen.”

“Pity he couldn’t take you with him,” his father continues. “Surely there’s a reason for that?”

You tighten your grip on Steve to remind him to not talk. “I’d be too distracting, don’t you think?”

“Certainly,” his mother says.

“Not as distracting as your friends’ headlines, though,” Steve says suddenly. “I heard about your latest union bust. How many fatalities did the factory have? Ten? How noble of you to save them from equity.”

You bite your cheek and squeeze his arm again. His father’s mouth twists like he’s tasted something sour.

“Steven,” his mother lulls, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. It’s the only thing you both have in common, trying to keep him cool and calm. It never works.

“And who’d you hear it from if not me?” His father’s tone has shifted. It feels suffocating in the small circle you stand in. “Oh, those dirty men you fraternize with.”

His father’s preoccupation with dirty things is ironic.

“Did they accompany you to Italy as well?” He looks at you now, eyes boring into yours. “Did you happen to see the Statue of David? I heard Michelangelo had an interest in the bodies of men.”

You can feel the heat radiating off of Steve, the implication making him see red.

“Ah, of course, yet another thing you’d rather refuse to understand than empathize with.”

“We should -“

“I’d love to talk to you about sexuality, actually, father. How many half-brothers do I have again?”

His mother looks like she might faint, but his father smirks. It’s as if he lives for arguments with his son. Loves seeing how far he can push him, for no other reason but to be a bastard. It might be the only time he’s ever fond of Steve.

“We’ll get going,” you say weakly, tugging Steve along, and he’s happy as long as he has the last word. “Always a pleasure.”

“You’d know much about pleasure and vices, wouldn’t you?”

It’s the first time John Harrington has ever made a verbal slight towards you. You pause, just barely, and continue moving, but Steve whips around, eyes wild. “I’m sorry?”

His voice is rigid and loud. Guests crane their necks again but this time, they keep staring. You and his mother both grit out “Steve,” but he strides towards his father. You fear he might actually strike him, so you lunge forward, putting your arm between them.

“Surely something we have in common, then, Mr. Harrington.” You glance up at Steve, his jaw clenching and unclenching, face red. “Good night.”

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

It’s cool outside. There are people on leisurely walks despite it nearly being so late. Steve’s still fuming beside you, toned arms flexing underneath his suit coat. He’s mumbling under his breath, then quickly whips around, heading back towards the door.

“I’m gonna-“

“Please,” you beg, grabbing onto his forearm. “Let’s leave it.”

“How?” he huffs. “How can I leave it? He was - he was - awful to you!”

“And he’s awful to you, too. What else is new?” You tug him, beckoning him with pleading eyes. “Follow me.”

He rolls his shoulders and tilts his head as he looks at you. He’s still fuming, nostrils flaring slightly, but all it takes is another little please? and he’s sighing, pulling out his cigarettes and a lighter as he follows you.

"The garage?” he asks, the white building coming into view. A billowing cloud of smoke follows. “What on earth do you want in there?”

You rip your gloves off and flex your fingers. “Indulge me.” You bump his hip with yours, trying to get him to smile.

Steve chuckles, easing up slightly, flicking the ash of his cigarette. "I don't know if committing vandalism is going to make me feel better this time."

“We aren’t vandalizing anything,” you promise. You reach for his hand and take a deep inhale of his tobacco. A needed stress reliever.

Steve seems a bit more giddy as you approach his father’s security detail. Steve’s known him since he was a boy. All he has to do is give a salute and a smile and you’re inside of the garage, door locked behind you, alone now with at least a dozen collectible cars and carriages.

"What do you have in mind, then?” he asks, leaning against the door. “Maybe we can use your heels to carve out some paint."

You step forward, taking the cigarette and throwing it on the ground before stomping it out with your shoe. You lean against him, hands pressed against his chest as you straighten his shirt. You’re looking at his neck as you speak. “Your father seems to think I’m somewhat of a whore.”

You don’t mean for him to get mad again, though it’s delicious when he is. “My father doesn’t have a clue -“

You interrupt, “So I reckon we make me one.”

His eyes widen, cheeks blooming red. "Oh?"

"Mmhm," you hum, and press your lips to his. He grabs you around the waist, fingers digging into your flesh, hidden by the satin and lace of your dress. Your lipstick smears as you move to the corner of his lips, then the stubble on his jaw, then up to the shell of his ear. "Pick a car and take me in it.”

“You - hold on,” he forces out, grip tight on you. “You aren’t a - a whore.” He says it like it’s scandalous, the worst word that could be uttered from his lips. It’s been thrown at him before, too. “You know that, right?”

You look up at him through your lashes. You can feel him starting to harden against your thigh. “Would it be such a bad thing if I was your whore?”

He swallows hard. “Do- do you want to be?”

You smile. “Pick a car before someone finds us.”

"Um." Steve forces his eyes open to look around. You begin unbuttoning his shirt while sucking a bruise into the delicate skin by his throat. He swallows hard. "Uh, the - the Renault.”

Your lips leave his neck so you can follow his gaze. You don’t know much about his father’s insane car collection, but you’ve always liked this one. Powder blue, gold accents. It’s like an upgraded horse and buggy, a large, enclosed carriage in the back with a bench for a driver at the front. It’s not very old, maybe twenty years, but it’s valuable and big and shiny and something his father prizes more than anything, including his own son.

“Plenty of leg room,” he explains sheepishly, and you smile, pulling him towards it. “Now, wait - wait - what’s the plan here?”

He’s so dense sometimes, but it’s because he wakes up everyday in disbelief that you’re laying next to him. The idea of undressing you and touching you seems so far fetched that many times he’s had to stop and think about it before engaging.

“The plan,” you say, swinging the door open and shoving him inside playfully, “is for you to have your way with me. And quickly, darling, we don’t have much time.”

Steve half-sits, half-lays down on the large bench, watching you as you duck inside and shut the door. He watches you with wide, adoring eyes as you climb on top of him, taking his hand gently. You pull it to your lips, kissing the pads of his fingers while he watches you intensely. When you look up at him, your stomach flips.

“My way with you,” he says evenly, “is to treat you like the angel you are.”

You smile and lay his hand gently on your chest. “Show me.”

His lips connect with yours softly. Despite the rush you’re both in, he still wants - needs - to take his time with you. He hikes your dress up as he kisses you, big hands caressing your thighs and ass. He sighs happily, pushing you down enough that you catch on the front of his dress pants, his cock pressing against your core. You gasp and giggle. “Excited?”

“As ever,” he promises.

You hold yourself up with a hand while the other struggles with the belt and buttons of his pants. He kisses down your neck, hot, open-mouthed. He latches on to a certain spot and you moan, breathing heavily into his hair.

“Need some help?” he murmurs, noticing your pause.

“Yes,” you breathe, eyes closing as he continues kissing along your exposed collarbone. You should be careful with your dress, taking it off and hanging it up, but Steve will just buy you another one. And another one. And another one. Anything your heart desires. Rich silk from Egypt, lace from Italy, hand embroidered and luscious against your skin. His life’s purpose seems to spoil you, as intended right now.

Steve finally frees himself, but you don’t have any time to stare. He’s quick to change places with you, laying you down on your back, pushing your dress and underskirt up. The material and color on your skin make him blush and growl lowly. The sliver of your corset that’s showing has him growing hard, too. They’re not always so comfortable for you, so you tend to wear them only on special occasions. And he’s keen on devouring you in only it after.

Neither of you are really expecting him to dive head-first between your legs, but you would never complain. His wet, warm tongue laves up your folds a few times before finally plunging in between them. You gasp and grab onto the seat, knuckles growing white. “Steve!” you cry, a hand curling into his hair, tugging on it.

“Worship you,” he mumbles into your skin, before forcing himself to pull back, chin slick. “I worship you.”

Your heart pounds. You’re at a loss. So lucky that you cannot possibly verbalize it.

Steve leans right back in, taking his sweet, non-existent time. “I- I hate to re-remind you, sweetheart,” you moan, fingers curling again, “but a-anyone could h-have! Have seen us com-coming in here.”

He hums, your back arching. He’s reluctant to pull away, but he finally does, coming back up to perch a knee on the seat below you. He’s quick to roll his sleeves up, muscled and toned forearms on view. Then he rubs his cock along your folds, both of you moaning. You tug at his shirt, now not so pristine, pulling him down to face you.

“Isn’t the idea to ruin the car?” he asks, smiling a little smug.

“Yes?”

“Then I’ve got to make a proper mess of you, don’t I?”

You burn. “You already have me melting.”

“Hmm. Let’s see what else I can do.”

When he pushes into you, it’s like the world stops. The only thing that matters is him above you. His hair tickling your forehead, eyes hazy and hooded, lip caught between his teeth. “Honey,” he groans, pulling a leg up over his hips to open you up, give him more access. His fingers dig into the fat of your thigh and he shivers at it. He always makes love like it’s the first time you’ve been together. Even during this quick romp, he’s taking his time, hearts in his eyes. “You’re incredible.”

“I love you,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to his. He slides in a little further. You wince and he kisses you gently, fingers moving towards your clit to take your mind off of it.

“I love you,” he mumbles. “So. God. Damn. Much.”

He’s sheathed fully in you now, both of you panting, sweating. The car’s windows are fogged. You can’t keep your lips off of each other as he sets his pace, languid and long, filling you up so completely it numbs your mind. Each thrust makes you gasp. His whines are low, but slowly become more high-pitched as he thrusts into you.

“Give yourself to me,” you whisper. “All of you.”

He would never deny you that.

Hips picking up, his thrusts get harsher. He’s chasing your high and his. Chasing away the thoughts of his father and his mother, of work, of anything except you. You, his angel, his promise that not all things in the world are so bad. Not when you’re with him. And certainly not when you’re writhing under him, your dress pulled taught over your tits, your lipstick smudged, mascara running.

Over and over and over, the thinks, The Divine is real. The Divine is real.

Your eyes catch as he’s pulled away to look at you. He’s soft, despite his thrusts. “I love you,” he groans. “God, I love you.”

“I love you,” you whisper, reaching for his face, cradling it. “My world.”

“My muse,” he moans, twitching within you, handsome face twisted in pleasure. His fingers work steadily on your clit and you reach up for your breasts, wishing desperately that you were wearing a nightgown instead. One that Steve likes, all pastel pink and blue, a ribbon of purple silk on the waist. It’s much less restricting and much more revealing. We can always continue at home, you think, your stomach tightening.

“You are….” you pant, eyes rolling back, leg tightening around his hips. “You are more th-than enough.”

His trusts slow. “As are you.”

“Sweet boy,” you laugh breathlessly, rolling your hips towards him. “Please keep going.”

“Oh!” he says, genuinely shocked, like he was truly so lost in your words that he forgot what he was doing. “S-sorry.”

“Just wa-want to show you how much I - how much I love you.”

“You show me,” he promises. “E-every. Day. And - and at these stupid p… oh, Christ - these parties.” His hips angle up towards your sweet spot and you’re gone, unable to hold back, brows marrying and face tightening in a lewd show of pleasure.

“Steve!” you moan, so loud you’re sure anyone walking by could hear. His hips move furiously and you have to reach up with your hand to steady yourself, making a handprint on the window. “Oh, my God!”

“Now it’s time to show you,” he groans, and his lips are back on yours. Half to consume you, overwhelmed with love and lust, and half to keep you quiet. You all but scream into his mouth, hand sliding off the window to clutch his shoulders while he works you into oblivion. “Close,” he chokes, a hand once again cradling your cheek. “With me now.”

You pant into each other as you cum, the car filled with sex and sweat and your crass noises. So unladylike, so perverse. You giggle mid-orgasm at the thought of his mother walking in on such a thing. A son raised as a level below royalty fucking his street-rat wife into a stupor, all in a thousand dollar car, would make her heart stop.

“What’s - so - funny?” Steve pants eventually, resting his head on your chest, his cock softening inside of you.

“Nothin’,” you promise, combing his hair with your fingers. “I love you.”

“Don’t leave me out,” he smiles.

You shake your head. “Tell you later. We should -“

“Uh-huh,” Steve says, pushing off of you and tucking himself back into his pants.

“You’re trembling,” you frown, reaching for him.

“I’m alright,” he promises, taking your hand and kissing it. “I’m happy.”

“So am I.”

He helps you fix yourself and slips your feet into your shoes for you, a kiss pressed into your knee. It turns into another, then another, and then his lips are creeping up your thigh.

“Stevie,” you whisper, the pet name making him blush. “Let’s finish at home.”

“Home,” he sighs dreamily. “Sounds wonderful.”

You’re proud of the stain left on the leather as you get up, your dress falling back down to your ankles. His father won’t check this car for weeks, if not months. You hope it’s fully ruined by then. But, for good measure, you let your heel scrape the paint on the way out.

[paymechildsupport]

YAN!Suguru Geto // x Reader [Vindication]

-!! Yandere!Vindictive!Geto x Yandere!Reader (two yanderes in love <3 )

-!! CW: Themes of death, suicide, murder, obsession

Storyline takes place a few months after Riko’s death, in the middle of Geto’s descent into immense depression and prior to him leaving jujutsu tech. Instead of investing his time to become a murderous cult leader, Geto pours everything into academics, and against you. He would do anything to make sure you didn’t leave him too. 

-!! The alternation between Geto and Suguru is intentional.

-!! Gender never specified

You were his academic rival. You’d both do anything to maintain that thrill of competition, anything…

…

Could they get any more annoying..?

Could they get even more unbearable..?

Could they just shut up for once..?

Goddamnit,

They were so…

Infuriating.

The mere idea of them being happy,

Of them being even remotely okay

Of air reaching their lungs 

Of their bones all perfectly intact

Of their mere  e x i s t e n c e, 

It made you want to throw up. 

Why couldn’t they just… go away?

It would make your life so, so much easier. 

It would make you so, so happy.

If…. They….. could… just…. Cease… to… E̴̠̟̾̈́ẍ̶̡̢̻̱̠̜́̒̀̉̿͝i̴͓͇̓͐͆͘͘ş̶͙͚̞̪̽͛̋͜ͅt̵͓̲̟̪̹̊͒̉̈̏̑

-

-

-

“Is everything okay?” You’re snapped back to the present immediately. You struggled to remember where you were or what you were doing.

You look up to find the words come from Suguru Geto’s mouth. He’s standing over where you slouch in your seat, looking down with a hint of condemnation and… smugness? Fucking bastard.

“Eh..? Where- where is..” 

“You’re in the library” Ah, that’s right.

“Oh! Ehe, of course I am. Geez- ah… Oh! Yeah, uh,  I’m okay. Its all good” 

Geto raises a brow in question, not buying it

“You’ve just been staring out into space for the past seven minutes. And-“ he points, “You just broke your pencil” 

You look at where he was staring at to see your pencil, indeed, snapped in your hand. You were still gripping it, hard. Very hard. 

You don’t even know how you’re still surprised at the sheer power that your hatred has over you. It’s quite scary sometimes. 

“Yes.. everything’s fine, honestly. I’m just tired is all..” 

“The library closed awhile ago” He deadpans. So matter of fact.

“Ah- wait, what? Then why are you still here-?” 

“Satoru and Shoko have already left. I said I’d stay. The librarians were too hesitant to approach you.”A corner of his mouth quirks up, “you’re very intimidating when you’re frustrated.”

You were silent, just now taking in the darkness of the library. Almost all the lights were out- albeit a few lamps in the corners- and you were the only ones still in the building. It was getting very late and the streetlights outside illuminated the dark streets. Under other circumstances it could be considered peaceful even. 

You sigh, looking down. You can see the eyebags under Geto’s eyes, engraved into his features for the past few months. You’d only ever seen that look in the mirror. The similarity unnerved you, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You felt proud, partly,-- it showed how much he expended just to compete with you, to rake himself up somewhere remotely close to your level, and then some. You reminisce, remembering the Geto a few months ago, prior Star Plasma, prior to Riko, prior to the empty husk in front of you

“Is something the matter?” His voice takes a drastic switch, softening to a wispy tone. You start to shake, “Is someone the matter?”

“…”

You knew it was dangerous. Suguru Geto wasn’t who you remembered, – he was unstable, unpredictable. You of all people should know, you’ve been subjected to a front row seat to his descent into despair. He was apathetic, borderline violent sometimes. Ever since the murder of Star Plasma vessel, Riko Amanai, Geto unknowingly latched himself onto everyone close enough, determined to make sure they never suffer the same fate, – and that included you, his rival. 

It was rather humorous, really. The lengths you two would now go to to keep your little game going. You were so invested, so enthralled into beating and dominating him in absolutely every way possible. You were intoxicated by the idea of winning, so drunk off of the thrill that came with competing. You sometimes wonder where you would draw the line.

Suguru was so into your little games that oftentimes you wonder if he really does enjoy to be beaten. To be made lesser of, to be belittled, to be degraded, to be beaten and dominated in every way possible. Obsession would be the only word to describe it. The boy was obsessed. Obsessed with competing. Obsessed with your antics. Obsessed with you. You would often question how far he’d go just for the sake of your little contest. 

“Would you kill someone for me?” The words fall from your lips before you can think as you lift your head up. 

“Yes”. He doesn’t hesitate. 

“…”

“I would kill anyone without a second thought, should you request it”

You can’t stop,

“…If there was someone I hated more than anything in the world… someone I couldn’t stand… someone who’s mere presence makes me want to break something…. Someone who I cannot stand the thought of them breathing… someone who just thinking of them makes me… makes me wanna…” You trail off.

“My only regret,” he says quietly, “was that it wasn’t me who had affected you in such a way” 

You smile bitterly, looking out the window.

“Who hurt you” His words were soft, but his tone dripped with venom. 

“… They didn’t necessarily hurt me directly… They just-….  I just…- “ You take a deep breath,   “the things they do and say to others concerning me and people I care about are… questionable, to say the least.”

“Yet they did end up affecting you nonetheless, correct?”

“Well, yes”

“So then they did hurt you”

“You could put it that way, yes”

Geto’s eyes flash,

“What is their name?”

“…”

“Tell me their name.”

“…” Such a vindictive sense of justice. 

His smile is laced with dynamite. 

“Tell me their name and I’ll make sure no words will ever be allowed to leave their mouth again”

Still, you remain silent. You didn’t want Geto to get his hands dirty doing something you should have been able to do. You shake your head. 

He sighs, his face softening. He bends down on one knee to meet your eye level whilst sitting down.

“Darling,” He’s so, so very gentle. “It will be alright. All this will be over, soon. Just let me do this for you. Let me get rid of one more disgusting person. Just let me…” You can feel yourself coming undone. “Let me do what I do best. I would never offer unless it was you” Your breathing heavily now, shaking violently from head to toe. 

He was going to protect you–

He leans down to your ear and whispers the final bit like a caress, “Just give me their name”

And you do.

–no matter what.

You tell him their name. 

And just like that, he smiles, gets up, and exits the library, closing the door softly behind him. 

.

The next morning they’re all over the news. 

A true tragedy, or so that’s what it appeared to be. 

You say nothing as the police describe in morbid detail the mangled and shredded body that had appeared to have jumped off the roof of the school. Your school.

 It was much too graphic to show, the police said. But it was by far one of the most horrendous deaths they had ever witnessed. The poor man looked sick to his stomach merely recounting the memory. 

Mawed and dismantled…

And although you felt as if you should have been happy, that you should have at least cracked a small smile, you simply couldn’t. 

This was only one. 

One death.

One person you hated, gone.

You still had more.

Much, much more.

A whole list in fact.

You wondered what would happen if Geto ever found out about the list you kept in the bottom drawer of your nightstand.

…

Maybe another day, you think.

Maybe another day.

~

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

(Heavily edited from a older piece)

I lo-lo-lo-lo-LOooooove Suguru he's such a bbg malewife :3

[dollypopup]

sorry, still on this soapbox but

we have really, REALLY done Colin a disservice in this fandom. we spent so long viewing him primarily as a Love Interest and not as a Character. But when we see and analyze him as a character, so many of his actions make sense, and it becomes almost ridiculous, the dynamics we've imposed on this couple (yes, I'm talking about the 'Colin fucked up and needs to prove himself to Penelope' narrative) when there's so much more nuance and beauty to their pairing than we give them credit for

we as the audience focus so much on Penelope's perspective in their relationship, of course, because we have so much of her perspective in the show, and so our frustrations with Colin stem from that, but we get more insight into him than Penelope does. The 'I would never court her' scene that we've been livid over for years is considerably softened when we actually look at Colin as a character, and the circumstances around his actions.

Colin spends season 2 SAD. He is straight up not okay. We leave Colin in Season 1 freshly heartbroken and running away to Greece to heal. In Season 2, we meet him again, considerably more somber. Colin doesn't participate in the dances. He even says 'I'm just a spectator'. Colin talks about how he started a conversation with himself, tried to understand what he wants and how he feels. Colin offers Benedict shroom tea, and for a moment, JUST A MOMENT, we see the facade slip. His mask cracks. 'Are you quite alright, brother?' and then it's gone. Then he's cheerful again. Calm Colin. Nice Colin.

Colin who is okay.

But Colin is *not* okay. Colin completely isolates himself from women. Colin doesn't flirt, doesn't entertain female attention. Colin is heartbroken, trying to be better. But he views Penelope as a friend, a sacred relationship, a worthwhile relationship, and he can't bear to lose her. To him, Penelope is arguably his closest friendship. His best friend. And in an entire town full of people who don't listen to him, he thinks Penelope does. Unlike the typical dynamic of the ton, in which men are ONLY speaking to women by viewing them as potential sexual partners, Colin views Penelope as a whole person. She doesn't just exist as a romantic option to him, but as a vital connection in his life. That's why the 'I am a woman' 'You are. . .Pen' is so important to view as an act of love- Penelope is NOT just a woman as the ton sees her, good for marriage prospects and little else, Penelope is a complete person. Yes, she's a woman, but more importantly, she's PEN. She's a full human being. And he values her as such. We cannot say the same for the grand majority of men in his society. Tell me any other male-female friendships like that in the ton where that level of respect is given?

But for Penelope, it's hurtful, because she WANTS to be seen as a romantic option in his eyes. That's a fair feeling, though we as an audience should recognize that it can be both upsetting to Pen, and also deeply beautiful as a sentiment. Because of Penelope's hopes of Colin as a romantic prospect, she does not see that he is hurting. Because of our connection as a fandom to Penelope, we do not see it, either. But he *is* hurting. In all of Season 2 he's hurting. That's why he throws himself into the Jack mess. He wants, NEEDS a distraction. He wants to find a place in his world, his society. Honestly? He needs a win. He has spent the last year losing and losing and losing. Who can blame him for being sick of it? His engagement blows up, he finds out his family pays no attention to him, that no one cares about his agency, and he's publicly humiliated. If he invests, if he makes money, he might make more male connections. Might run in more important circles. Like his brothers do. Might prove himself. But Colin isn't friends with the men of the ton. We don't see ANY evidence that he has strong friendships with any of them. Because he isn't like them.

He is 22 years old. Treated like a child in his own family. When he talks about his travels, no one listens. Everyone dismisses him. 'Remarkable, yes, in the sense that I have many remarks about it'. Colin is invisible. He is trying to slot himself in his community, but he does not fit neatly into it. He connects with Will, a man outside his community, and Penelope, a woman also outside his community, because *Colin* exists outside his community. He's the foolish boy who fell headfirst for a woman who lied to him. He's the 'green' baby walking in his older brother's footsteps and unable to fill them. He doesn't behave the way other men of the ton do. He doesn't talk like other men of the ton do. Hell, he *apologizes* to women. We have men NOW in the MODERN ERA who don't even apologize to women.

His own *mother* doesn't even notice he was dating someone for several months in season 1. Colin is a pretty, empty ghost wandering around Mayfair, and so of course he's thrown into a locker room conversation with a bunch of guys who have never once seen a woman as a person, and doesn't relate to them. Colin's not joking and having fun with these men. We very purposefully do not see his reaction after he delivers the 'I would never court her' line.

Colin is uncomfortable around them, but he needs their help to make it up to Will, someone who was kind to him and who he looks up to. He has the mask on so firmly in that scene, it's physically obvious to see. If you compare his reactions around Penelope to his reactions around Fife, it's stark. With Penelope he's open, his eyes are soft, his expression is curious and kind, his shoulders are relaxed. Around Fife he's closed off, eyes hard, muscles tense. Who can blame him? He's acting. He's acting just like he's acting around Jack.

When we look at Colin as a whole character, we get insight into his actions and they make SENSE. The things he say that hurt Penelope are things that are actually defending her- Colin saying he wouldn't court her to those men in particular, is an act of caring. He is defending her in that scene. When a debutante is only good for being 'wed, bed, and bred' in their eyes, Colin saying no, that Penelope is worth more than that, that his connection to her isn't forged on wanting to fuck her, or exploit her, or treat her as a sexual object, is radical. Because anything else, ANYTHING else that he says that isn't an outright denial, puts Penelope in danger. He can't let them believe that the woman he cherishes so deeply he cannot even ENTERTAIN the idea of not talking to her is out here being ruined by his hands.

And when we see it that way, we see that, in reality, of all the men in the series, Colin is the one who has been kindest to his love interest. Colin is the one who has defended her, the one who has stuck his neck out for her, the one who has cared for her with absolutely no expectations of sex or romance in return.

Colin's relationship to Penelope is beautiful, and sure, she can be upset that it isn't in the exact shape she wants it to be, but I think if she takes a step back and looks at it more objectively, if WE take a step back and look at it more objectively, Colin has only ever gone into it with a big, earnest heart. Not PERFECTLY, of course, he isn't perfect, but with the best intentions, and with as much honesty as he can.

And I don't know why we don't celebrate him more for it

[justmeinadaze]

Pushing the Barrier Part 3 (Eddie X Reader) 

A/N: Like you guys I am extremely invested in their story. My brain has been all over the place so please excuse any grammatical errors. Holiday seasons are always harder for me. I love you guys and your thoughts on this story. I read them all <3

Warnings: I don't want reveal too much and spoil things but still got stripper Eddie here. He does talk and break down in great detail his trauma and the things he deals with. :(. Word Count: 3967

You slipped out of his apartment early in the morning while Eddie was still sleeping. You couldn’t sleep at all. The entire cab ride to your apartment you thought about last night. Everything about Eddie and the way he made you feel was amazing. That look in his eyes and the tone in his voice though remained front and center in your brain. 

“I’m waiting for you.”

No matter what, you would end up hurting him. Hell, you were hurting him now. You were married to someone else. Your last name was someone elses. You did not belong to Eddie. Yes, your husband was an asshole but he was a good man once, right? Why else did you marry him?

“Excuse me, can you take me here instead please?”

You gave the cab driver the address as he swiveled around. 

#############

When you walk into your husband’s office, his head is buried in paperwork. His eyes flick up towards you as you enter but he doesn’t move to greet you. 

“Must have had a good time last night. You didn’t come home.”

“I stayed with a friend.” He answered with a sarcastic hm. “What did you expect? You yelled at me and said I looked like a whore.” Your husband exhaled as he leaned back in his gigantic chair. “Honestly, I’m surprised you even noticed I didn’t come home. You’re never there.”

“Here we go again. Look—”

You raise your hand to silence him. “Please. I… I’m your wife. I miss you, honey. Don’t you miss me when you’re here?” His eyes softened as he watched you speak. “Do you remember our first date? We stayed out all night walking around the city and just talked till the sun came up.” You both chuckle at the memory. “I miss that. I miss how we used to be. I’m so sick of being alone.”

You husband rose and walked to your side of his desk, leaning down on his knees to get to your level. “I miss you to, baby. I know I’ve been really busy here. I’m trying to make it to where soon I won’t have to work so hard. I promise I’ll do better, sweetheart.” 

Eddie flashed in your head at the name and you tried to shake the image. You craned your neck, planting your lips on his. “Ok, I trust you. I love you.”

“I love you to, baby.”

###################

“Hello?” You answer the phone and are surprised when Mira’s lyrical voice comes through. 

“Hey mama. It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve come by. Is everything ok?”

“Yes? Do you do this check up with everyone who stops showing up?” You try to keep your voice low so your husband doesn’t wonder who you’re talking to. It was a Saturday and to your surprise he was actually trying to make good on his promise. You two had been watching television when the phone rang. 

“No, baby. I actually have a favor to ask. Can you come by and see Eddie?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Wha…I…um…”

“I don’t ask questions. I told you; we pride ourselves on privacy so I don’t know what happened between you two but since you stopped showing up his entire attitude has changed. He’s a lot more feisty than normal. I actually had to give out a refund for a client experience and send him home the other day. He’s a good man but if this keeps up I may have to fire him.”

“No! Mira, don’t do that.”

“He’s working a short shift today. I don’t have anyone booked for him and I won’t even charge you for this little counseling session. Just please, get his mind right.”

You sigh as you hang up the phone. 

“Who was that?”, your husband asks as you head back towards him. 

“One of my friends needing a pick me up. Her boyfriend broke up with her.”

“Oh no. Well, baby, you should go check on her. Bring some of the hard stuff.”, he points toward your liquor cabinet. 

You climb into his lap and kiss him on the forehead making him chuckle. “I’ll be right back.”

#################

You feel extremely nervous as you open the door to Eddie’s room. When your eyes land on him your heart breaks in half. While he still looks handsome in his jeans and Metallica shirt, his eyes look worn as if he hasn’t slept in days. His head was leaning against his fingers as they pressed into his temple. He stared into his own reflection angrily. 

“Hey Eddie.”

His eyes widened as he quickly got to his feet and marched toward the glass in front of him. 

“Turn this fucking thing off NOW.” When you don’t respond or do what he asks he slams his palm into the glass causing you to jump. “You snuck out of my apartment. No note or anyway to reach you. You disappear for two weeks. I think I earned the right to see your face. Unless you’re too much of a fucking coward.”

He laughs to himself as he sits back down. “God damn, Sweetheart. What the fuck was I thinking? I guess we both had each other pegged wrong, huh? I thought you were different but, nope, you’re just like everyone else. I’m surprised you didn’t leave some money on my nightstand before you left.”

“Eddie, please. That’s not what this was.”

“Then what was it!?”

“I really do care about you but I owe it to the man I married to try.”

“Y/N, what the fuck are you talking about? He doesn’t give a fuck about you. With everything you’ve told me what makes you think this time is going to be any different?!”

“Eddie, you don’t know me or my relationship! He was a good man once and he really has been trying.”

“Oh yeah? Then why are you back here with me?”

“Because Mira told me that she was going to fire you if you didn’t get your shit together!”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Eddie, you can’t afford to lose this job.”

His eyes angrily turned towards the front of the cube. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to pretend like you care about my well-being. Just get the fuck out of here and go back to your ‘blissful’ marriage.”

You flick the switch, turning off the two-way mirror and meet his fury filled stare. “I’m doing this because I care, Eddie.”

“Naw, baby. You’re doing this because you care about you. I should have known better. Selfish just like everyone else who enters my life.”

“I don’t want you to wait for me.” His head turns abruptly at your words. “I can’t have you waiting for me. It’s not fair to you.” You hug your arms around you. “You deserve to be with someone who puts you first.”

“So do you…” He sighs before you notice his eyes light up with an idea. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Can you grab Mira for me?”

Without question you leave the room, grabbing Mira, and bringing her to Eddie. You wait outside in the hallway as the talk. After a few minutes she exits, smiling. 

“Man is crafty; I’ll give him that. This way my dear.” She takes your hand in hers and leads you towards the back of the building but instead of going out the back door, you two pass it looping around to another hallway. Mira digs in her pocket for a set of keys and opens the door in front of her gesturing you inside. “If at any point you feel uncomfortable, you can just open the door and leave. It’s only locked to keep people out, not in.”

When you step inside the lights above you automatically turn on. You glance around taking note of the familiar throne chair and the guitar leaning next to it. Taking a seat, you look in front of you and are met with only your reflection. 

“It’s a bit odd at first, I know.” You glance above you at the sound of Eddie’s voice. “I have to admit, I’ve never been on this side before. It’s kind of empowering.” You smile softly as you stand up and move towards the front of the glass. 

“I thought maybe it might help a bit to put you in my shoes. In the corner there is my jacket. You can put it on if you want to.”

You do put on his leather jacket, inhaling the smell of his cologne. 

“Go ahead, Princess. Take a seat.” Doing as he asks, you sit in the throne again, gazing at your image in the mirror. “Now, picture this. You’re a 20 something year old man from a small town in Indiana. You left your friends and uncle, the only family you care about, behind to move to New York to make something of yourself.”

“What about my parents? Where are they?”

His silence is tearing you apart. You would give anything to just be able to see his face. 

“Your parents don’t talk to you anymore. Your dad is an abusive dickhead who’s in prison for pretty much the rest of his life and your mom surrendered you over to your uncle when you were a kid because she didn’t want to deal with you.”

A tear escaped your eye and you quickly wiped it away. You suddenly hear a soft knock on the glass in front of you and your eyes move towards the sound. 

“You’d been struggling to make ends meet so you do some research and find Mira’s place here. You start doing this gig for strangers and 98% of them you can’t see. Some of them are extremely dirty.” His tone changes to much more gruff, authoritative one. “Take off your pants.”

You look up at the glass, your eyes searching frantically for him. Eddie’s voice comes through a bit more sternly. “I said take off your pants.” You do as your told, rising off the chair and pushing off your jeans, kicking them to the side. 

“Good girl. Keep the shirt and jacket on. You look fucking sexy like that.” You felt your pussy start to drip at his words but something still felt off. It wasn’t the Eddie you had come to know. He wasn’t in front of you with that soft voice, telling you how beautiful you are. This really felt like someone else behind a window that only wanted one thing. 

“Spread your legs open. Atta girl. Move your panties to the side so I can see that pretty cunt.” You did as he asked as his heavy breathing echoed into the cube

“Eddie, please tell me what you’re doing over there.”

“Oh no, Princess. You don’t get to ask me questions. I tell you what to do. Come here, babe. Crawl to the front on your hands and knees for me.” You hear the sound of his grunts as you move towards him. You place your palm against the glass and you can’t see it but he does the same. 

A string of expletives including words like “slut” and “whore” leave his mouth as he pants. You suddenly hear his breathing slow and then nothing but silence. 

You feel yourself start to panic. “Eddie?” You smack the glass. “Eddie, are you still there?!”

“Now, imagine,” you breathe a sigh of relief as he continues in his soft Eddie tone. “One night, this beautiful voice comes through. She just wants to talk to you about things. Mostly about how her husband abandons her at night to fall asleep alone. Sometimes he doesn’t come home and one night when she was feeling particularly beautiful, he told her she looked a whore.”

You feel the anger slowly rise into your chest as your bottom lip begins to tremble. He knocks again a little further to your left so you shuffle towards it, knocking back. 

“This beautiful voice finally allows you to see her face, taste her lips, feel her body. She falls asleep in your bed but then the next morning you wake up and she’s gone. You could try calling her but you don’t have her phone number and Mira won’t give it to you because ‘we pride ourselves on privacy’,” he mimics her voice. “You can’t go to her apartment because you don’t know where she lives. The only place you’ve ever seen her is in there,” Eddie points to the glass, “and at a restaurant. Every day for the next two weeks you check in that restaurant thinking she may show up but she doesn’t. You play your gig at the bar she saw you at praying she may show up looking for you but nope.”

“You sit in that glass confinement for two…weeks… waiting,” Eddie flips the switch and his upset eyes meet your sad ones. “Then she finally shows up and says she owes it to her husband to try because she cares about you.” He tilts his head, watching your face.

“Eddie, I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Why do you stay with him?”

You shrug as the tears start to fall. “He’s my husband. I—”

“Don’t say that again. Don’t say you owe him. You owe him shit especially with how he treats you. Do you honestly believe he’ll change? You need to leave him.”

 “Would you?! What if the tables were turned?” You stand up and tower over him. “What if I told you this bothered me? You being naked and jacking off in front of people made me angry? What if I said I couldn’t be with someone who does something like this? What if I said ‘Eddie, it’s me or this’? What would you do?” Eddie glares up at you as you yell through the glass and you don’t even wait for an answer. 

“Yeah. That’s what I fucking thought. So don’t you dare stand there and tell me what to do with my life!” You watch was he turns with clenched fists and exits the room slamming the door. “Oh, that’s nice. AND I’M THE FUCKING COWARD!” You scream after him as you repeatedly slam the barrier in front of you.

The door behinds you suddenly opens as Eddie flies through it until he’s in front of you. His hand reaches out to grip your chin, making you look directly at him. 

“I would choose you. I would choose you every fucking time. No questions asked.” His hand released you but his body remained where it was. “If you want to go play house with your husband go ahead. That’s not going to stop me from waiting for you.”

Your jaw tightens as you swallow and Eddie sees it. “Oh yeah? And how many girls have you said that to? How many times have you sat in here and said something that to someone you’re attracted to?”

His face visibly flinches as his chest rises and falls heavily.

“I’m not going to stand here and pretend like I’ve never found other women I’ve seen in here attractive. The ones that have actually allowed me to see them. You, Y/N, are the only person I’ve actually ran after when they walked out of this room. You are the only woman ever since I moved here that I’ve invited to see me play with my band. YOU are the only person on this fucking planet that I would stick around for even though I know I’m her second choice.”

“Eddie, fuck! It’s things like that. You deserve better than being someone ‘second choice’.”

“And so do you. Look, whether it’s work or…something else that man is always putting you second. No matter how you choose to defend it.”

Eddie reaches his hand out to gently caress your cheek with his thumb. “Y/N, you were just gone.”, his voice comes out barely above a whisper. You tackled your arms around his waist and his arms came down around you, pressing you against him. “If you want to try with your husband, I respect that. I don’t agree with it but I respect it. Just… please don’t disappear again.”

####################

You left Eddie that day with a mutual agreement of remaining friends. You even exchanged phone numbers with him and on days you were home alone you called him, telling him about your day and vice versa. 

One day you invited him to your school to have lunch with you. Eddie marveled at you from outside your classroom door. You looked so cute sitting on your desk swinging your legs as you talked to the glass. When you glanced towards the door and saw him, you eagerly waived him in. 

“Who’s that?” a girl near the front row giggled as he came in.

“Guys, this is my friend Eddie. Eddie, these are my pain in the butt freshman.” They laughed at you as he gave them a small wave. “Go ahead and sit down. The periods almost over.”, you whisper to him. 

You continue with your lesson on the book in your hand and after a few minutes a bell chimes. “Please, for the love of God, keep up with your reading. On Monday, we’re going to talk about your next project, okay?! Have a good weekend!”

You smile as they murmur goodbyes before speeding out of the room. 

“You good at this stuff.” Eddie grins as he grabs the book from your hands. You take the food out of the bag he brought, crossing your legs on your desk as you dig in. “The Great Gatsby. Did we have to read this in school?”

“Well, I’m not sure about Indiana but here it is part of their freshman curriculum. Have you read it?”, Eddie shakes his head as he places the book on the desk. “It’s about a man named Gatsby who loves a woman named Daisy. She’s married to this rich aristocrat guy so Gatsby spends his life trying to become rich enough for her. Her cousin moves in next door to him so he uses him to his advantage.”

“Oof. Sounds complicated as hell.” He laughs as he starts eating his own food. “Tell me more. I like hearing you talk about it.” You flash him a questioning look. “The way you talk about the material, you get more animated. If I was their age and you were my teacher, I may actually have read the book.” Eddie smiles as you laugh at him. “What happens in the end?”

“It doesn’t end happily. Long story short, Daisy stays with her husband and Gatsby dies.”

You both avoid eye contact as you pick at your plate. “So, um, how’s work been? Better?”

Eddie chuckles. “Mira didn’t fire me if that’s what you’re asking. Yeah, everything’s gone back to normal, I guess. What about your husband? Still being good?”

You scrunch your nose at his word choice. “Yeah. I mean, there have been a few nights he’s stayed late at work but it’s not as bad as before. He actually took me out to this really nice restaurant the other night.” You dare to sneak a peek at him as you talk. Eddie continues looking down at his food, nodding his head. 

Reaching towards him, you tenderly place your hand on his arm. “Thank you.”

He gently grazes your fingers with his own, almost as if he’s afraid to touch you too much. “Not a problem, Princess.”

#################

“Honey, you alright?” Your husband taps your arm. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry I just zoned out for a bit.” You laugh at yourself as you shake your head. 

The phone on the wall rings and he leans back to answer it. His eyes flick towards you before he makes a small mhmm noise and pulls the phone from his lips. “It’s my boss. I’m going to take it in the other room. Would you mind hanging this one up for me?”

“Yeah sure.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He doesn’t see your face cringe at the name as he kisses your forehead before jogging down the hallway. “Ok! I got it!”

“Ok!” You don’t know what possessed you in that moment but instead of hanging up the phone, you put it up to your ear covering the mouthpiece with your hand. 

“I can’t, baby. Not tonight. I already told you. I’m on thin ice with my wife.”

“Don’t you baby me. I thought you said you loved me!”

“I do, Sarah. I do but—”

“But you love her more!”

*sigh* “Look, don’t move, okay? I’ll be right there.”

You hang up the phone and thirty seconds later your husband rounds the corner. “Honey, I’m so sorry. They need me to come down for a few hours to work on this project. I shouldn’t be there to long.”

You stare at him with wide eyes as your brain runs a mile a minute. “You should go. Definitely don’t want to keep your boss waiting.”

##################

The moment Eddie opens his front door your lips are on his as you jump into his arms.

“Whoa! Sweetheart…hang on…a minute.” He barely gets the words out as you keep trying to keep his mouth on yours. “Please…Jesus H. Christ.” 

He somehow manages to tear you off him, placing your feet on the floor. Eddie’s long fingers brush your hair back and out of your eyes. They were extremely worn and heavy from crying. The whiskey on your breath hung around you like a storm cloud. “What happened, Princess?”

You reach towards him attempting to run your hands along his bare chest but he catches them in midair to hold them in his own. “Talk later. Fuck me now.”

“Okay, that would be the alcohol.” You swayed drunkenly in his grasp. Rolling your eyes, you pull away from him and throw yourself down on his bed. You reach for him with little grabby hands. “I’ll make you deal. You take a nap and then when you wake up, we’ll revisit this conversation, ok?

You giggle, nodding your head as your heavy eyelids start to droop. Eddie sits on the edge of his mattress beside you, delicately removing your shoes and socks. “I’m going to take off your pants to make you more comfortable, ok? This is not a sexy invitation.” He smiles and you nod again.

After he completes his task, he maneuvers your body so you’re under the covers. “Should I call your husband and let him know you’re here? I can say your friend is with you and I’m her boyfriend or something.”

With your eyes still closed, you scoff as you turn your head towards the sound of his voice. “Fuck him. He won’t even be home. He’s with Sarah.” You giggle but Eddie notices your bottom lip shake as your voice cracks. 

He blinks into the void as his mind pieces together the little information he has in front of him. “Oh Princess. I’m so sorry.”

You were silent so he assumed you had fallen asleep. He rose with the intention of sleeping on the couch when your hand flew out in his direction. “Eddie… please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll just be on the couch right over there.”

You shook your head, pulling at his arm. “Please. I’ll fucking break the glass if I have to.”

It took him a moment to understand what your drunk mind was trying to convey. “Y/N, there’s no glass here.” Eddie crawls into the bed beside you and you immediately press your small frame to his side as your head falls to his chest. He reaches for your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours. “No barrier. I’m right here, Sweetheart. I’ll be right next to you when you wake up.” ###################

@Munsonsuccubus @samunson83

@tayhar811 @bibieddiesgf

@maximus2354 @nevermore66

@ajkamins @dollalicia

@secretdryrose @staandupanndscream

@tlclick73 @bebe0701

@silooney @other-world-s

@kiyastrf94 @alottanothing

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

TB S2 EP 13 THOUGHTS!

True, Omega has gotten really good with being a soldier. She's staying cool in high tension situations, she has good aim, thinks on her feet and outsmarts her opponents easily. But Phee is right, Omega hasn't gotten to just be a kid for a while now. She deserves to have a proper childhood

LOVED seeing Hunter's enhanced senses at work. Sometimes I catch myself going "froce sensitive?" just because he's so hyper-aware

^this is just based on him grabbing that dudes wrist when he tried to take his money

THAT MOMENT WHEN WRECKER GOT UP WHEN THE GUY WAS ALL "shoulda brought more muscle" BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR BITCH

Phee shooting that guy under the table like damn girly alright

"Yes, I am playing against myself. It is the only time this game is a challenge." YES BABY TELL 'EM ALL HOW SMART YOU ARE🤍🤍🤍

"We never had such a thing. I do not see the issue." Oh,,,, oh Tech Baby. Stop telling people how dumb you are🤍🤍🤍

Hunter did look like he was mulling over Phee's words

CID CAN GO AND :)

"Our mutually beneficial agreement wasn't so beneficial,,, mutually." Hunter your himbo is showing babes

HHHHH OKAY IT'S SUBTLE BUT!!! When Phee types in the coordinates to Pabu, her hand lands on Tech's shoulder. He briefly glances down at it, somewhat skeptically, and then she lifts it off again, before patting his shoulder and his eyes widen a little bit and maybe im too invested in this ship and I'll be quiet now bye

PABU IS SO PRETTY OMG

I LOVE that Phee isn't like a pirate-pirate. Like I thought she was shady but dang, she's just taking back people's heritage that was stolen from them and I LOVE IT

"Got some competition." WAAAAHH I KNEW IT

"Welcome" "Welcome" "Welcome" "Welc-" "PUT IT THERE" WRECKER I LOVE YOU

"Lots of food, drink and general merrimaking," points at Tech, "You'll probably hate it. It'll be great." Tech rolls eyes

^YOUR HONOUR I LOVE THEM

NO BECAUSE BECAUSE Tech is the sassy b in the squad and Phee switching her flirting technique from "hi there good looking" to "lol dumb b" IS EXACTLY WHAT OUR BOY WANTS AND SHE FCKING KNOWS IT

AND THEN IT WORKS BC TECH TURNS AROUND TO LOOK AT HER WHEN THEY SPLIT AND HE'S LITERALLY THE ONLY ONE AND THEN HE HAS THE LITTLE SMILE AND DOWN ANGLED FACE AND WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

"I have not heard her laugh like that in some time." Heeeeessss learniiiiing (that Phee was right lol)

"As a father, you couldn't ask for a better place to raise a child." Okay, glad we're all on the same page. Like, I'm glad all we gotta do is take one goddamn look at Hunter and just go "Dad."

I know it's supposed to be a joke again, but like Wrecker being full for the first time? That's so sad. Imagine going to bed hungry EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. Being full for the first time is something to remember, Tech should be writing it down.

Omega and Lyana bonding on the boat was so sweet!!

Phee getting Tech away from his datapad to get him to appreciate life's beauty IS MAKING MY HEART SO FULL

"Pretty spectacular, right?" <- Phee using the word spectacular, even though its not in her usual vocabulary, because she's generally more succinct and down to earth, but it's totally a word Tech would use

"I suppose... that is... one way to... quantify it." <- Whenever Tech talks about data or research (topics without emotional involvement) his sentences flow nicely and evenly and he gets about 100 out in 2 seconds. Whenever he has to talk about emotions or emotions are involved in the conversation suddenly he gets quieter and his sentences have less of a flow. He doesn't stutter, but he needs a minute to get them out. hmm yes very interesting.

Hunter checking in with the girls, so cute

Omegas learned a lot and has been pretty secure in her ability, but hearing her sound so scared when the wave came? dang. loved that she immediately called hunter though. V sweet :)

TECH AND PHEE WORKING TOGETHER

PHEE HOLDING ON TO TECH TO GET UP THE WALL HEHEHEHEHEHHE

Not a single 'fear of heights' comment from Wrecker when climbing that ladder. Proud of him :)

Tech pushing through that crowd to check on his bro THE CUTENESS

Wrecker side-hugging the mayor when he's looking at all the destruction I CAN'T THAT'S SO SWEET

So,,, so Phee and Tech just move as a unit now, huh... very interesting

Phee not letting Tech disturb Omega, Lyana, and Wrecker and him listening to her so quickly just,,, I think she'll end up helping him connect to/understand human emotion better and show him how to navigate relationships and I'm SO HERE FOR IT

Like she knows people and is clearly good with relationships, and he recognises that and trusts her to point him in the right direction, WHICH HE DIDN'T AT THE BEGINNING OF THE EPISODE!!!

"We could stay and help out with things."

"I had the same idea."

"Did you, now?"

cue cute smiling at eachother

WAAAAAAAA MY BABIES!!!!

10/10 episode, made my heart v happy. Dave Filoni, I have left your walls, you may live in peace until next week.

[haleigh-sloth]

Okay, cool! I wanted to make it was okay before I sent you any questions regarding the new chapter.

After this week's chapter, how are you feeling with the new circumstances? Do you think the new crying character is Tenko?

At the very end, we see Endeavor in front of the glass window with presumably Touya inside. It's good to see that Endeavor is keeping his promise of watching Touya.

I feel like Touya is at a safe point in the story, I can't imagine him dying. I am sure Touya is here to stay.

Regarding pretty much all the other villains, I'm 0% worried about them. Honestly. Even with the shell shock of what's going on with Tenko right now, I'm still just not worried. At all.

Tenko---I 100% HOPE it's him. I am also fairly convinced it's him. The only reason I cannot fully commit is just because of my trust issues right now, that's it.

But honestly, IF Hori was going to bring him back, this would be the best way to do it imo.

I think the fact that Deku was feeling depressed about the outcome with Tenko means that he'll do something to rectify that. Tenko wandering the streets right now? Alone? History repeating itself? It's almost too perfect of a set up for Deku to find him (instead of someone demented like AFO) and help him. That would not only be a solid showing of how Deku intends to stop history from repeating itself, but also fix the fact that he's unhappy with how things turned out before (I will wait to say my complaints about his characterization being dead in the water until the very end, though I am not super convinced Hori can redeem himself on THAT front). It would put the main character on par with the other two kids who saved their villains without killing them.

For reasons related to Tenko--I think this thread gives the best rationale as to why it would be/could be/should be Tenko. I do think the elephant in the room was "what the fuck is he gonna do about his physical body that's fucked all kinds of up from the inside out". We all sat with the potential for rewind to come into play. Right now, it's really looking like Kurogiri had some role in saving parts of Tomura's physical body at the last second and the other half of decay (which was very intentionally revealed right before he was punched to dust) putting him back together. And honestly, ik people are arguing that "the nose and eye shape are different!" and honestly who fucking cares. IF this character is in fact Tenko, it DOES make sense that he'd look different. The four bloody fingers, the covering of his mouth, the tears, the black shaggy hair, (the skinny bony ankles lmao), it just feels a little too on the nose to not be Tenko? I am convinced, but just with caution.

Then there's the whole "turn a minus into a 0" with Mirio, looking back at the chapter title "the story of how we all became heroes part minus 1". It's just...yeah idk. It all feels a little too perfect to just throw away.

Then there's the lack of closure and follow up on Spinner from the war, and we don't know if Deku delivered the eerie message (implying that Tomura still views Tomura as separate from who he is at his core because Tomura wanted to destroy until the very end). There's Kurogiri's last (possibly last? not sold on his death either but less invested in his return) words about how his friends are waiting for him, that also received no follow up. I don't believe Hori put those things in there to just move on and pretend they never happened. Tomura also said the villains need a hero of their own, which yes, but they also needed heroes who weren't gonna destroy things they cared about. And he needs to be around to see that none of them really want or need total destruction. It's just very unfinished.

Over all, I (and many others) have felt so weird about the last few chapters. They have felt so disconnected from the rest of the manga and from everything Horikoshi has written in the past and even in this manga. I'm kind of just settled on the very very likely and real possibility that Hori is doing this on purpose so he can get one last good GASP out of all of us and laugh maniacally about it from his stupid little manga studio. Fuck that guy. Respectfully.

That being said, if things don't go this way, I'm prepared. But I'll continue to hope for the best.

[almightygremlinblob]

Rant about JJK 261 leaks and mild spoilers. Just ignore unless you're passionate about stories like I am or wanna hear what I say or both. This is very, VERY long.

Bro, listen.

LISTEEEN.

I'm not mad at Gege, writing is HARD. Like, legitimately! It's SO difficult to bring a vision - an entire unique world with complex characters - to fruition and CONTINUE that story to its end.

And there's still so much to love about JJK, despite everything.

THAT.

BEING.

SAID.

Some of the choices he's making, writing wise, are just...such missed opportunities for his characters and it's making the story itself suffer.

Part 1 - Sukuna Ryomen

Oh, Sukuna... The strongest sorcerer in history, who wiped out a lot of the families in an era where sorcerers and curses were at their strongest. He was the top dog of top dogs. Blah, blah, blah - WELL ESTABLISHED. Actually, ever since he defeated Gojo that's been established to the audience. And it's been win, after win for him. Which is good, in times of peril - the villain should be competent at what they do and keep the stakes high. That's good. The problem is, the formula - the way that the storyteller goes about showing this - keeps repeating over and over. Now, the fights themselves - as fights - are great. JJK has always had amazing fights and was never lacking in that department. However, the emotional investment the audience has in the fights is waning because it follows pretty much a predictable formula already. Sukuna kills character, another character is hyped up and joins the battle, Sukuna struggles just a bit but is actually just "holding back". Bam. Character dead. Next. There must be casualties, of course, BUT - from a writing standpoint - casualties can be built without diminishing the sacrifices and arcs of other characters. Tragedy can be shown without the expense of the character arcs, because to throw so much into a character without any meaningful conclusion hurts the story itself - and that doesn't necessarily mean they need to accomplish what they set out to do. For example; Choso didn't die to further showcase the cruelty of JJK's world, and how sorcerers are disposable. He didn't die to showcase Sukuna's hatred of Yuuji, and to further fuel Yuuji's hatred of his soul uncle (????). He died just because it's sad that the "doting and responsible big brother" dies and for more casualties. The THEMES surrounding Sukuna, and the entire series in general - of isolation vs. companionship, of old vs new, of strength and what it means to be strong, of love and the burden of it, his fuckin' WORLDVIEW and how it's so true for the world of JJK (that, contrary to most Shounen stories, the world is tragic and unfair and the power of friendship doesn't always work - "love is trash") could be better conveyed than what's essentially a tournament with him as the final boss. It's so frustrating, too, because the way the story goes about it - not only does it take away from the other character's complexities and developments, BUT ALSO HIS. Like, all of his story beats and the character deaths could have been hit in a way that ADDS to Sukuna's threat level while not diminishing the gravity and development of the sacrifices of the other characters. Hell, maybe even adding to them than just - oh, he/she/they're dead now. Sukuna is such a complex character, even in his simplicity, but the WAAY the story shows this makes not just HIS CHARACTER suffer...but EVERYONE ELSE'S TOO!

Can you tell how much I love Sukuna lmao.

Part 2 - Gojo, Geto and Shoko

Oh my GOD, guys. The dynamic between Gojo and Geto - absolute gold. Could they have used Geto to showcase the unfairness of the world MORE? Yes - he was the PRIME candidate for that, even in Kenjaku taking over his body. Gojo though? Killed his role in the story - showcased the themes of love and its burden, of strength = isolation, and the unfairness of the Jujutsu society WHILE easing the audience into the world of JJK? Applause. Absolutely love that for you, honey. HOWEVER; what we got with them was still really, really good. Shoko, though. She was sidelined SO HARD. Not only was using Gojo's body as a puppet a chance to showcase even more the unfairness of the cogwheels the sorcerers are placed in - we could have seen the very personal and deep ways that this world, and the lifestyle sorcerers are forced into, affects those within the cogwheel individually. I mean, all her friends from her high school years which she's so "nostalgic for" are DEAD, because of the world she's in, aside from Utahime and Gojo. You'd think she would've protested to using his body in such a way but she was...apparently FINE with it?? WHAT???

Even if she thought he could win, or was actually just nonchalant about it cuz of the many deaths she's already experienced - at least one scene where she's alone with her thoughts, would've been nice as a chance to develop her character and showcase the point above MORE. "I was there, too..." MY ASS, MAN. See? Because of that one little thing, now this line is just completely empty and Shoko's character suffers. The trio's entire dynamic suffers and so does the "precious/best high school years" bit. Did all of it actually mean anything to the characters or are they beating that point just for drama? It just becomes Geto x Gojo drama (which, to be fair, I do love BUT-) Shoko, you poor girl. You were completely wasted potential and I just...feel so bad for her, oh my GOD. Not to mention pretty much ALL of the women cast of JJK - although, strangely enough, Yorozu (and even Kashimo) accomplished what she was there to do; which was to propose the "love" part and how it relates to Sukuna's character. So good on you, you beautiful, beautiful simp(s).

Part 3 - Yuuji Itadori

Oh my sweet boy... ...who keeps getting sidelined as the protagonist. Don't get me wrong, he's been having more of a spotlight lately and I am SO HAPPY for that - because not only has he earned it, he has the biggest reasons to defeat Sukuna and gain his current wins. And even when he's embraced being part of the cogwheel, his beef with Sukuna is PERSONAL. He doesn't even want to see him suffer or anything. No, Yuuji just wants him DEAD - then he moves on to the next curse. Then when he's supposedly "surpassed Gojo in potential" he just... Keeps getting sidelined???

Part 4 - Kenjaku

...

Do I REALLY need to say anything?

Again, I am not mad at the state of JJK right now. Only confused. If I wanted to be mad, I'd look at RWBY's back and forth writing. As I've said, writing is DIFFICULT. It is SO insanely difficult to bring a world to life and continue its story to the end. And I can only imagine the pressure of having it blow up like it has these past years. BUT BRO...

MY GOD BRO.

WHAT IS HAPPENING BRO.

[ineadhyn]

Writer interview

@vixstarria tagged me and I finally get to do it! Thank you <3

I am tagging @sky-kiss @scuttlingcrab and @thedomesticanthropologist

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

13 and some are multi-chapter. All are BG3 except for a german Inkheart one

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

85.408 -that is a surprising amount of words for being active less than a year

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

His consort, his god - I finally wrote smut for a popular ship XD (bloodweave)

At her mercy - kinky sapphic Karlach x Durge smut

Natures most beloved treasure - Halsin x trans masc Tav smut

Direct from Hell Logistics - ongoing Raphael x Haarlep comedy/angst/smut/plot - this one has it all

A song of snow and embers and Copper Hearts share this place. one is a F/F/F/F foursome and the other my Astarion x male Tav longfic

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

I appreciate every single comment and try to show that. There's nothing better than the e-mail that says "comment on your work" and it can make my whole day. Sometimes I don't know what to respond if it's just a word or a keybord smash, but rest assured I see you and I love every one of those, too.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Angsty ending hmmmm. Because some of my stuff is not completed yet I am not gonna spoil anything but Dust and ash about Astarion's backstory was naturally quite angsty

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Not. gonna. spoil XD

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not yet. Maybe I could count Copper hearts because I took Francys from my original work and planted him into Bg3

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, not yet.

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

I do. I am exploring all kinds atm with preferably queer pairings wlw or mlm or nb. I can also write mlw from the men's perspective but not the other way round :D

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Boy I wish.

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

No and I am not sure if I could commit to a project like that.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Hmmmmm ... Raphlep probably

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

My german Inkheart fic with a genderbent lesbian Basta. Damn I was invested in creating this character, but gave up after a while because it was a lot of work and it being german and a niche topic in a small fandom was not very rewarding tbh. I know I should not care and maybe I'll come back to it when the Inkheart obsession comes over me again.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I am good at setting the scene. Atmosphere and small mundane details that make the setting feel alive. I have always liked that in reading as in writing, because it makes you feel like you are actually there when you can hear and smell and taste the scene.

Also I am okay at developing coherent plot, but that's mainly practice from writing a lot of og work before I started with fics.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I still struggle with english grammar and punctuation at times so I always have a beta reader. And I am lucky to have great ones.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I am not a fan. It confuses me. Singular phrases and such yes, but not entire dialogue. Especially if it's german in an english fic I get super confused.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

*digs through her files* So, my first works were basically fic for my best friend's story. (I was in my early teens.) But since she was the author the lines between canon and fic are blurry and the "fandom" consisted of three people of which one was the author XD

So if we don't count that the first one would be Hunger Games - It was one chapter and I never published it

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

We'll see what posesses me next I guess, though I think Bg3 will stay with me for a considerable amount of time. And ship wise ... I feel Durgetash creeping up on me.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Definitely Direct from Hell Logistics. I am having so much fun with it. It constantly makes me laugh and sheme and I also feel all the angst. Also it is ongoing and I get to explore the story alongside the readers (though I have a rough plot structure to keep me on track).

[lightleckrereins]

Seemingly getting rid of the silver alt variations and giving Meg one costume with no variations also seems to be a choice. I wonder if by next cast change they’ll have the US cover system with no alt costumes.

I think Meg not having pants is another on the long list of things six is trying out with this cast. One of the things long running shows need to do is being smart with where they spend money, not making very expensive costumes that will only be used a handful of times is one of the most common practices. And that is not a bad thing.

Many shows refit costumes for new cast members, or share big pieces like skirts and coats. With six its not easy to refit costumes or share anything aside from crowns or ruffs in a single cast. But they are exploring alternatives. Alt boots with interchangeable straps mean alts will have the fancy designs without making three separate pairs of boots. Alts now have one or two wigs made to be easily restyled into multiple queens vs having four separate hairpieces. Its been a process of trial and error thats still not finished.

For this cast change it seems they were aiming for having two strong covers for each role (which is what most shows have anyway) plus a third cover just in case with the swings. Ignoring the fact that six always needs extra coverage and that Natalie would be out during a complicated period it is a good cover system. Everyone said no second covers or alt costumes was not a great idea (and we were right) but objectively it is a solid plan.

Meg not having pants I think falls into this. Silver only uses pants for parr and she is probably third cover: Hannah first, Natalie second, and if they need both Howard and Parr with Hannah out I think Meg would get ptiority for Howard. Second priority swing costumes are very rarely worn so they are a big investment that will probably hang in a closet most of the year. Meg not having pants makes sense. But I also don't think it was the right call. (Also I dont think her having boleyn over pants would be the best plan either)

Focusing on priority cover variations for the swings is a good idea as those are the costumes they are most likely to wear. But they are still swings, they should go on for all queens; its like second covers, with most alts they rarely go on for those roles but there has never been a cast where they arent needed. So yes do variations for priority but also make sure they have variations that work for all six queens. Parr with open skirt doesn't necessarily work. But you know what does? Cleves with pants and Symour with pants and its not ideal but Parr with shorts. Do you see where I am going? I stand by the best swing variation set is open skirt, cleves and pants. But if the production is cutting variations make black open skirt and cleves and silver open skirt and pants. Its the middle point, less variations to make but it still covers all six queens.

And Meg not having pants now doesn't mean she won't get them in the future, six WE is at a trial stage for alts. I wouldnt be surprised if she gets a variation sometime soon.

Also I don't think UK casts will switch to Us cover system, both work very well for their respective continents.

[know-the-way]

Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears Discourse(?)(maybe idk?)

So… at this point I’ve watched the entire 3 series and film. Twice. I was going to post episode reactions for series 2 and 3, but I really need to skip ahead to Crypt of Tears because I have… questions. If anyone knows the answer or potential answer to any of them, please weigh in because I am just… struggling to understand some of the narrative decisions they made here.

(Btw, overall I enjoyed it, so I don’t want it to seem like I’m coming from a solely negative perspective - obviously, the last 5 minutes in particular… talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, etc etc. I may do a separate ‘things I enjoyed’ post. I just needed to talk this out. lol)

****Full warning, this is a very long post, I am so sorry in advance.****

1. Alright, first things first - wtf do you mean it’s been a YEAR since she left Melbourne?! What was she doing that whole time? Like obviously, you could infer that she got caught up in local shenanigans and hadn’t seen everything to a satisfactory end yet, but I feel it would’ve taken maybe 1-2 minutes to just briefly explain that for the audience’s sake.

I also totally understand that they were attempting to make a stand alone project that could be independent of the series, so referencing where the series left off would be antithetical to that. HOWEVER, I think at the point where fans of the series invested $1 million… that should have maybe made tying up loose ends from the series a bit more of a priority?

I also saw that they hoped to garner new audiences from the film. And maybe it’s just me, idk, but - I’m a new audience and the only thing that brought me to the film was the knowledge that I had 3 seasons worth of backstory to immerse myself in beforehand. There are very few scenarios in my mind that would’ve had me watching just the film and nothing else. So… help.

2. Similar to question 1 - SIX WEEKS?! Where was she for six whole weeks? How did she escape the train? Was it like a Bear Grylls situation out in the desert for a while or did she have to barter with local villages or something? Just again… 1-2 lines of dialogue and I’d be good. Instead, I’m just sitting here confused like, “okay cool, I’m super glad you’re alive and stuff, but um… HOW?!”**

(**acutely aware that this is how Jack must feel all the time) (and he deserves a pint from the pub for his troubles ‘cause omg)

3. SPEAKING OF JACK - *r2d2 screech* This poor man. Jesus. How many times does he have to grieve the love of his life? It’s kinda rude at this point.

I’ve read articles with the writers where they talked about wanting Phryne to be strong and independent without emasculating Jack as a character. And I remember thinking, “Yes! They do such an excellent job of finding that balance in the show and it’s really satisfying. It’s one of the things I love most about their dynamic - the freedom to be themselves while still having this very strong collaborative connection.”

^These scenes, though? Whaaaatttt happened? 🫠 I don’t think it emasculated him, but Phryne’s almost non-reaction to him being there… grieving her... it comes off kind of insensitive and perplexing at its bare bones, to me.

Upon a few rewatches of that scene, I’ve been able to slowly formulate potential justifications for her behavior - i.e. she did tell him to come after her and he didn’t, so maybe she lost hope on her end and dove into the first perilous mystery she could find to help herself get over him. Thus, when she finds out he’s there for her memorial service, I could see her inwardly going, “Okay wow, it took me dying for you to make any moves whatsoever. Cool. Good to know I’m only worth the trip if I’m not here anymore. (Hence, the ‘And I’m very sorry that I’m not dead!’ line later.)”

Which would be a fair point, imo, and they do have a track record of just… infuriating miscommunication, but ultimately… it’s all still hypothetical. We aren’t given any actual, spoken insight into her motivations or feelings in regards to Jack (the smallest glimpse we get is her teary eyes outside the door at his guesthouse along with the “damn it, Jack” line). So, without any further follow-up clarification in the film - at face value, that scene is harsh and almost callous imo. And, despite their many conflicts in the show, there was never once where I felt they weren’t at least making an effort to understand each other. Like there is never a point in the film where they take a moment to acknowledge the time lost between them. They don’t get to have that (necessary) release of emotion and mutual understanding (there’s no nightcap moment), so it just feels incomplete.

4. I promise not to make all of these redundant, but the quicksand scene. Obviously, I love it ~*for reasons*~, but I found myself once again choosing a side (Jack’s)???? Which, throughout the entirety of the tv series, I never chose a side between them ‘cause I could always understand both of their perspectives. In this scene and the reunion scene, I’m left confused both times about Phryne’s perspective. Maybe because Mac isn’t there to pull the full truth out of her just afterwards? That’s probably it.

But her lumping Jack in with “any other man” she doesn’t need to explain herself to - either that was a fear response or a flat out dishonest one. Girl quit playin’… we all know he’s not just any other man and we all know he has never tried to change you or take charge of you. Please, the bottom-leaning switch vibes that come off that man… he LIVES for you telling him what to do. He doesn’t want to control you, he just wANTS TO BE BESIDE YOU. GOD.

I so didn’t want to be frustrated with Phryne (I love her**) and I was honestly upset that I was, but there was just something… missing in both these instances for me (vulnerability maybe? idk) and I can’t quite get it to add up. It really probably was a lack of Mac, though.

(**again, Me 🤝 Jack, complicated feelings for a complex modern woman, we’ll both be at the bar if you need us)

5. Last one - “Is this your idea of sweet nothings?” “I thought they were out of the question?” “They are. Continue.”

Did I miss a scene where they laid ground rules for their partnership going forward in Shirin’s case? Or was that something that was cut/not included? Because… if there was a scene of them discussing that before Jack agreed to stay… that would have taken care of most of what I said above in and of itself.

(But no fr… did I miss a scene? Is my copy broken? Help?)

Gonna Leave on a Positive Note, because if you asked me if the below scene made it all worth it, I’d have to say yes:

[mslanna]

Red-Handed in Hell

Chapter 5 of Be My Guest now on AO3

In which Haarlep has to endure the ordeal of being seen as their own person, Tav argues with Raphael about poetry until they are both bothered but only one gets release.

I got WAY too invested in the literary argument here. *le sigh* Yes, I am sorry. Yes, it is likely to happen again. 😔

Tav shifts from one leg to the other for an uncomfortable minute before they dash into the boudoir. The devil has returned to his war and for a hot moment Tav worries how this will look if Raphael instead returned here for a second scolding

The incubus is on the bed, their lounge a little strained. They raise their head when Tav approaches and the spite in their eyes is unusually muted. Tav wonders what you can do to another fiend without it showing. Slightly slumped shoulders paint a clear enough sign.

Tav approaches the bed carefully. "Haarps? You don't look so good."

An eyebrow rises at the informal address. "Ah, there they are. My precious little blabbermouse."

"Are you alright?"

"Of course," the incubus replies lightly. "For a certain amount of alright.

Tav climbs onto the bed and scrutinises Haarlep closely. On the surface, at least, there are no wounds, bruises or scars. "I'm so sorry. I asked him to be kind to you and that was the exact wrong thing to say I tried to mitigate it, but…" Tav trails off.

The other eyebrow rises as Haarlep tilts their head. "Did you beg on your bare knees, little mouse? Sucked him off there and then?"

"I- No!" Tav is taken aback.

The incubus snorts in disbelief. "Then this," they indicate the length of their body, "is a veritable miracle. Are you sure you didn't do something outrageous to him? So depraved and dirty his horny little horns fell right off?"

Tav blushes violently. Not just at the thought but at the ungodly amount of details their own brain supplies to conceivable scenarios. "I did nothing," they stutter. "Nothing but ask, I swear."

"Curious." Haarlep doesn't sound as if the believe the human, but they drop the subject. "So, what do you want?" They sound tired.

"I just wanted to check on you. See if Raphael kept his word." Tan presses their hands between their knees. "See if there's something I can do to help. Amends, you know?"

Haarlep looks at Tav as if they see them for the first time. "I am fine," they finally say. "There is nothing you can do."

Tav nods, pressing their knees together. There are slight shadows under Haarlep's eyes. The incubus has definitely taken damage and it takes all out of Tav not to grab those red shoulders and shake the incubus until truth falls from their lips. "Okay," they get out. "But if something comes up, you let me know."

"Oh, you will be the first to know," Haarlep grins. "Your mere existence agitates our dear devil. And now he is trapped in his own house with you like a moth in a lamp. If there is anything you can do to make this even more delicious, I will let you know."

"That's not what I mean," Tav murmurs. It seems unfair that they should be the only one never seeing a lick of Raphael's alleged interest in them. Out loud they add: "it definitely burns and stinks."

"Better than being trapped in Cania. The cold really gets to you after a while. Good thing you showed up when you did."

"You were there, too?" Tav asks. "How? Why?"

"I am a gift from Raphael’s father, meant to distract and spy on him." Haarlep chuckles.

"And? Do you?"

"Of course," Haarlep laughs. "Oh, you sweet little mousling. So naive. Utterly unfit for the hells."

"You were nice to me," Tav murmurs. "I hoped you are just-"

"Nice?" Haarlep asks gently. "Maybe I will - for you. Because I like you."

"And because it pisses Raphael off."

"Yes, that too, of course."

"Alright, if you are now being nice to me-"

Haarlep puts a finger over Tav's lips. "Go play in your library. Raphael will be most unhappy if you do not."

The incubus has a point. Tav nods with slumping shoulders. They scuttle backwards until they reach the edge of the bed and climb down. "I shall be reading then. And Haarps, take care."

The incubus shoos them away without an answer.

Half-way around the pool the spring returns to Tav's step. A library. A whole, big-ass library all for them. The devil better have it stacked with the good stuff. If it was all scientific papers and memoirs they'd clobber him to death with an especially heavy tome.

They close the dark wooden door behind them and breathe in the scent of paper and ink, leather and dust. There is an index close to the entrance and reading nooks scattered about. Tav spies a desk or two on each floor. They could do some work here, should they decide to. They have time. Maybe learn a language? Infernal sounds about fucking useful right now.

Days go by. Tav reads a lot. It means getting out of Raphael's feet who returns the favour, ironically, by taking the time to actually talk to Tav. Mostly about books. He takes fiendish delight in hinting at things and Tav finding the book alluded to and returning with receipts.

Haarlep resigns themself to a book club, though Tav knows they start to enjoy it, especially when they bring out the extremely graphic descriptions – sex or gore doesn't matter as long as things are excruciating and end with a final release.

When another intruder announces their arrival, Tav finds themself suddenly armoured up in their chair, war hammer clattering to the ground beside them. It is not their old armour, though it fits perfectly. It shines in hues of gold, offset with blue, their favourite combination. And it smells of hellfire.

Their eyes glow wide with glee. Helldusk armour is hard to come by and impossible to afford. Tav bounces their weapon off the breast plate. Hells, yes! They are ready to cave in some skulls if necessary. They are slightly scared at how much they hope it will be necessary.

Again Tav sits down on a soul pillar's platform. They dangle their legs and try to be unthreatening, which is a little difficult in full battle armour, covered in fiendish spikes and sigils. But their war hammer is out of reach.

After a few minutes, the portal hisses into life and a half-orc steps out. Seeing Tav, they attack immediately. Which is unfortunate, because Tav launches form the platform as if spring coiled. Two hits is all it takes before clean up.

"You don't have to do that yourself," Raphael says later. They sit in an alcove overlooking the Feast Hall, wine and books on the table between them.

"But I have so little else to do," Tav sighs. "It is a change. For a while, at least."

"Does the library not fulfil you?" The devil raises a brow and his glass. The deep red wine within is almost black.

Tav takes a sip themself. The bouquet is as heavy as the colour, heady and full of velvet that runs sown their throat smoothly, keeping embers in their stomach aglow. "It's only words. Sometimes I need something a little more – tangible."

"You keep visit Haarlep."

"Not for that." Tav shakes their head.

"You should try it. It clears the head nicely." Raphael watches them closely over the rim of his glass, like a predator waiting for its prey to make a wrong move, ready to pounce.

Tav wished he'd actually pounce for once. They'd take a fight if nothing else was an option. Shaking the images off, Tav picks up the open book before them. "You're still wrong," they pick up the conversation where it let off the day before.

"How so?" Raphael smiles in indulgent amusement. Arguing with his unruly pup takes his mind off the war. It is going well, the Crown of Karsus is an exceptional piece of equipment and though Zariel knows he's coming for her, there is nothing she can do.

The library and job have also calmed Tav down to a point where the devil can enjoy their spunky little rebellions – vain as they all are. A little more work and they will be ripe for the plucking. The time until Tav's soul is out of Mephistopheles' hands is counted and Raphael intends to be there to pick up the slack. He will have this morsel all to himself.

But all in good time. So far the poor soul has not even realised their own hands are the least satisfying option in this House. Raphael leans back, unfolding his wings a little. They would come around. And once they did, he would know.

"Transiency is an integral part of affection," Tav pushes the book at him, opened on the page of the poem they are currently arguing about.

"The narrator says himself 'the sunset is eternal/If only you move fast enough' right here." Raphael points at the line in question. "Making perfection attainable if you have the right means. It's a skill issue."

"That is meant to point out how impossible and futile the pursuit of eternity is," Tav counters. "To pursue an eternal sunset, you have to give up everything else. Not to mention that here," they tap onto lines in another stanza, he clearly states that 'love is sweet because its fare/is only but a breath from death'. By By turning the ethereal immutable, you lose its essence."

"But you still have an eternal sunset, the aim of the whole exercise."

"No, that', that's like,” Tav fishes for words. "It's like me. Here. Saying that just because I'm staying here you have my soul."

"As long as you stay, I do." Raphael leans back. "In a manner of speaking."

"But it is ethereal, because as soon as I set my foot outside, my soul is very definitely Mephistopheles'. It is part of the appeal."

"Do you really believe that having your soul in the palm of my hand forever is less appealing than having you run through my house in your quaint mortal body?" He raises a brow and gives the body in question a once-over. In an ideal hell, he naturally has both. Until he truly owns them, Raphael will make do.

They argue for some time longer, neither giving up on their position. It is this stubbornness that is endearing Tav to the devil, the refusal to give up despite obvious defeat. It doesn't harm that the wine flushes their cheek and sets a soft sheen over their sparkling eyes. Raphael keeps his hands tight around the stem of his wineglass. The other firm on his thigh, nail digging through the fabric.

"As we agree to have different opinions about the meaning of the poem, I suggest we move on," he finally says. "May I suggest ‘Red-Handed in Hell’ for your consideration?"

It is, on purpose, a poem not in any of the books before them. Tav takes the hint and gets ready to leave. They empty their glass so they can carry it and the bottle in one hand and shake their had as they pass the devil. "One day, I will get you."

Raphael doesn't reply, only the hand resting on his thing tightens. Tav wonders what they said now that was wrong again. But they don't linger. Time with the Master of the House is rare and they are not willing to risk their privileges by dawdling.

And the devil lets them pocket the wine. A small boon for being good, probably. And his cellar is exquisite. And the buzz drowns out Tav's muffled yearning and anger for a while. The headaches the next morning are a small price to pay.

Tav picks out the correct book from the index and sets up in their favourite reading nook. By stealing a pillow or blanket now and then when visiting Haarlep, they created a small nest, complete with canopy, to curl up in to read. The wine is set down in a safe distance, glass within reach.

The poem in question actually fills up the whole book. Tav sighs. Epic poems are all very nice, but having an argument with Raphael about something the length of a couple of stanzas was bad enough. This could lead to outright war. They smile to themself. Maybe, if they play their cards right, the devil will pounce after all. They start reading with a smile.

Red Handed in Hell I stand with one foot in the grave, my life is already forfeit; There is nothing left to lose, so what if it's a one way trip. Have you heard of the Rosymorn Knight, Lathander blessed in armour bright? Oh the deeds I have done, the beasts I have slain, the glory I found, but all is in vain! Mortal hearts are feeble, their bodies a ruin as they go to eternal death. I will not sink into oblivion, with eternity I will be blessed!

One of those, Tav thinks to themself. But going to the hells for a deal with a devil is a popular story, mostly a cautionary tale. Discussing this with Raphael may prove interesting.

Tav reaches for the glass when a draught catches their neck. They turn but the door is closed and their blanket fort is warm and snug. The feeling stays though, and Tav reaches back with a hand. Their skin is warm, no hint of cold air.

When the feeling drops over their shoulders and slowly makes it way between their legs, realisation hits them. Haarlep. Has to be. The caress is minuscule, it winds in and out of existence, like a finger drawing wind onto Tav's skin.

They ignore it and reach for the book again. Reading helps, though Tav cannot stop scouring their body every now and then to see if the feeling persists. The results are unclear. Sometimes they find echoes of it, sometimes they do not.

Tav downs a glass of wine and fills up again. The buzz packs their brains into a comfortable layer of cotton. They might not remember much of the book they read, but they won't remember anything else either. An acceptable solution.

[tequiilasunriise]

Alright, so I just made a Wenclair post but imma make another one right now because oh my LORD I just saw the fandom breaking reviews, so sit down and grab a snack because it’s rambling time.

I see that many of you are discouraged from the prospect of Wenclair not being canon, this is understandable as I myself am really invested in these two. Hopefully this goes without saying, but NO ONE should hate on the show, the actors, etc etc. I refuse to let such toxicity run through this fandom. Like, this is just reviews for the first season. Please, I really, really don’t want a repeat of the Voltron fandom and cries of queerbaiting (and I wasn’t even remotely near being part of the Voltron fandom! It just got THAT bad that even I knew of its notorious reputation). Again, the show isn’t even out yet. Who’s to say Hunter going ‘fighting for Wenclair’ didn’t mean the course of their relationship in future seasons? We only have information on a first season that isn’t even out yet, so please, calm down on any hate and queerbaiting accusations.

That being said- y’all telling me you’re not buckled down for a slow burn? Wednesday is a character who needs a LOT of time and effort to build trust with on a romantic relationship level, so getting Wenclair all in one season would have been cool or whatever, but it also would’ve been pretty OOC since season one has confirmed only 8 episodes. On the flipside, the payoff of Wenclair’s growing friendship, that blooming trust, the eventual deep bond between them that not even Wednesday herself can deny? Is that not peak sapphic experience? Frenemies to begrudging allies to ‘I find your existence… not the worst’ ‘ppfft, thanks, Addams’ to friends to friends who would murder fer each other to ‘you are the sun that burns and enchants me, I hope this drought lasts a lifetime’. LIKE C’MON??? THE FLAVOR?? Don’t give up on Wenclair just yet y’all. (That being said, the line about droughts should be in a fanfic so imma mark that down fer later.)

And like, I think this next point is the most important thing to note. We all acknowledged our love for Wenclair as a delusion, ever since the beginning we knew we were pulling crumbs and making silly little headcanons. Yes, I would love if Wenclair became canon. Would I stop shipping it if it never does, though? Let’s see, I am a veteran Whiterose shipper of several years. Those two barely had a conversation in the entirety of Volume 8 and I am STILL willing to die on this hill fer them. I am a Lightcannon enjoyer despite the next to NOTHING crumbs in the entirety of their respective existences. Oh, you would not believe how many rarepairs I hold dear in the Pokémon world. The list goes on and on and on. Canon is cool and all but I hoard my random ships like a dragon of ye olde. Just look at what we, the OG Wenclair Warriors, made with just a few trailers and interviews and random instagram comments. The lovely art, the heart wrenching fanfics, the god tier headcanons. I dunno bout yall, but I’m not ready to give that all up just because canon said ‘mmmm no’. If no one got me, ao3 got me.

Trust me, I am well-aware the importance of good representation and I’m not saying you can’t be disappointed over this. What I am saying, however, is that you shouldn’t always let canon 100% dictate how you’re going to consume and enjoy a piece of media. So what if Wenclair isn’t canon? Their dynamic is AMAZING and nothing can take that away from me. There’s still potential and writing room for future seasons, and to that I say buckle down homies, we in it fer a long time and a good time.

[therideisfarfromover]

Right, I'm dropping some HSMTMTS opinions, because honestly, looking through the tag, I feel like i'm watching a different show to some of you???

For context, I have loved Rina since 1x05, but I also properly hopped on the Portwell bandwagon in s2, and genuinely enjoy both ships as written. In fact, other than Ricky/Lily, there are v few canon relationships on this show that I haven't enjoyed at some point.

Anyway, a few thoughts on the love triangle that I may get shot for, but oh well.

1) Gina is not emotionally cheating on EJ. Like yeah, her and Ricky have got their friendship back, and the nature of their friendship can come across as flirty, but Gina rn is fully invested in her relationship with EJ. Her and Ricky being close (especially given he was her first friend in Salt Lake) isn't a crime. Even in WDYKAL, she is fully in character to piss off EJ. She is not suddenly over EJ and back into Ricky.

2) Ricky is not trying to get in the way of Portwell. Yeah, he was being a bit of a dick with that comment about EJ stealing Gina because we all know that's not true. But other than that, he has respected their relationship. He had no intentions of telling Gina that these feelings have resurfaced for him, evident from the fact he swears Carlos to secrecy and is devastated when Channing catches it on camera. And he also makes a point of asking "did it show?", demonstrating that he is trying to keep his feelings under wraps. He allowed Gina to talk about EJ without getting defensive, he even answered EJ's question of why Gina was mad at him without a sarcastic comment. Saying Ricky is purposely getting in the way of PW is character assassination for no good reason. The boy has feelings, yeah, but he hasn't acted on them and the narrative has shown nothing to suggest he would while Gina is with EJ.

3) EJ is being a bit of a tool this season, but honestly, I don't think this is the wasted character development y'all think it is. I don't know about all of your own lives, but something I've found in mine is that growth is very rarely linear. Yes, EJ learnt and grew a lot in s2, and there are times it feels he has forgotten that in s3. But also, he is an incredible stressed 18 year old: flaring up in the form of your former self isn't bad writing, that's just what happens when you're a kid going through shit. I am not worried about what they're doing with EJ at all, and I think by the end of the season, he will have developed in a way that is in line with what the writers did for him last season.

4) I completely agree that they should have slowed their horses when it came to reintroducing the triangle dynamic. Especially because it does feel like PW only got a few eps without drama. But also, this is a teen drama, that's kind of how it works? Also, based on the current writing (and I know I'm in the minority here), I genuinely still think PW will be together at the end of this season. Or at the v least, they won't break up until right at the end, and it won't have anything to do with Ricky.

5) I genuinely don't think the Rina storyline is fan service. Maybe WDYKAL was a *little* bit but I loved every second so I'm not complaining. Tim has said right from the start that Rina was born out of them seeing Josh and Sofia's chemistry in 1x05, and the team feeling that they needed to write towards that. And so they did. Similarly, I feel that the PW stuff in season 2 was so great because it felt that the writers saw something v natural between these characters, and just wrote towards it in a way that felt organic with the story. Given how much of a mess 2b was, I still think Portwell is one of the best written parts of it. However , in s2, there was only closure for Rina on Gina's side, so to say it was a 'done storyline' when we've actually never seen Ricky's POV, isn't fair either? Like idk, there are plenty of things I would have done differently when it comes to the love triangle, but also I don't think that any of their dynamic this season has felt out of pocket, like it all seems to follow the tone and prev writing?

Anyway, long controversial venting over. Please don't come for me xoxo