#how did this whole thing get my music brain running again

[mortal-ghost]

jumping on the goncharov music bandwagon with this little track took forever to find this in the archive, scores from older films can so easily straight up dissappear!

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Party Animal

Steve hated parties. And who could blame him? The infamous Halloween party of 1984 left more scars on his heart than he carried from all his other misadventures. Alcohol made people say thinks they buried deep inside, but then instead of owning up to them, they'd say "I was drunk", as if that was any excuse. So yes, Steve and parties didn't go together anymore.

And yet he stupidly decided to throw one anyway.

Look, they deserved it. All of them did - Eddie, Nancy, Robin, even Jonathan and Argyle, they all earned acting like actual teenagers for one evening. Steve wanted to see Eddie, now miraculously his boyfriend, just have fun, laugh, be silly. So a party it was.

It all went great - dancing, drinking, nibbling on mountains of Argyle's homemade pizza - but eventually they all got drunk. Not Steve, he just sipped one beer and kept an eye on everyone. Jonathan and Argyle were smoking outside, Nancy and Robin flirted in the most embarrassing way possible and Eddie...

Steve heard sniffling from the bathroom and his heart sank.

He didn't want to go there. He didn't want to be told that this was all a misunderstanding, that he pressured Eddie with his flirting, didn't want to hear he's bullshit again.

But no matter how terrified he was, he could never abandon Eddie. So he went in.

Eddie was leaning over the sink, wiping at his face and trying to control his breathing. "Shit..." he muttered and turned away from Steve. "Sorry, I...uh. I'll be there in a sec."

"Eddie..." It came out as a whisper. "Are...are you okay? Did I do something?"

Eddie just chuckled and pulled hair in front of his face. "Sure did," he mumbled.

And it made horrible sense to Steve. Of course he was the reason Eddie was crying. He couldn't help fucking up, he'd tried so hard to change but apparently it was 1984 all over again. So he took a deep breath and waited for the final blow.

"You're just perfect, Stevie."

Oh.

That wasn't what being broken up with sounded like. In fact, Eddie didn't seem angry at him at all. "...sorry?"

Eddie laughed, wet and high in his throat. "Like, you...you are too good to be true, you know? You throw a party for us and then you even don't drink so we're all cared for if anything happens? You...you give your best friend a green light to date your ex who shredded your heart to pieces? You invite the guy that your ex cheated on you with and his friend? You're just so good about it. And you're funny and so bitchy that I want to kiss you all the time. And I just...I love you so much, you know? And I've never felt that way about anyone and it's fucking scary, man."

Steve's racing thoughts came to a screching halt. Where he was too busy panicking and praying he'd still have time to fix whatever he did, now his brain settled on maybe I'm not getting broken up with? "So, uh..." he muttered as he watched Eddie try fix his eyeliner, "...there's, like, nothing wrong? Or maybe...do you want me to go slower? I know I can be a lot."

His boyfriend gave an incredulous laugh. There was no salvaging the eyeliner now, it was getting caught in Eddie's early crow feet, and Steve had never seen a more beautiful sight. "No, Steve. You're not a lot. In fact, you're just enough in every single way, but knowing that you're it for me, that good things can happen...it makes me terrified. I've never put all my drugs in a single lunchbox, or whatever metaphor you want to use for it, but with you I'm just throwing all the caution into the wind. And for the first time, I..." he stopped, chewing on his lip, "...I don't want to run away when I mess up. I want to stay, face the music and fix it. You're re-writing the Munson doctrine again and again and I just...I don't want you to settle for me, Steve. You are the whole package and I'm still cleaning all my messes. I guess today showed me that and I...yeah. Sorry about all this," he pointed at his tear-streaked face.

Eddie suddenly seemed so small, so insecure, and that wouldn't do. It woke Steve up from his frozen state and he took a step forward, cradling Eddie's face in his palms. "I'm not. Settling for you, that is." He was probably smudging the black even more, but Eddie would have been beautiful to him even fully covered in grime, and there were more important things to focus on. "Eddie, you keep talking about the Munson doctrine and being work in progress, but you don't see how you've thrown all the stuff I used to do out of the window, and I'm better for it. With you, I don't feel rushed, I don't have to perform or pretend. I can just live in the moment."

As he continued his speech, something strange started happening. Seeing people cry normally had a guaranteed effect on Steve - just one tear, quiet sob and he pushed his emotions down to be dealt with later or possibly never, someone needed him, and that was the priority. But now, staring at Eddie's wet eyes and shaky hands? He felt his own face crumbling and what better place to hide it than in Eddie's Metallica t-shirt. It smelled of cigarettes, pizza and the cheap laundry detergent that had come to mean home to Steve. "Sorry," he choked out. "Shit. I was...sorry, I'm supposed to be...you know. Consoling you. But I heard you crying and I thought...I..."

Eddie shook his head and tightened his grip on Steve's waist. "Oh Stevie. Whatever that pretty head of yours thought of, it's not happening. Unless it's kissing me, which duh, that's happening, if you want to of course, and staying with me to the point that you're sick of me."

Steve just whimpered into Eddie's shoulder, something that suspiciously sounded like "Now who's perfect, huh?"

His boyfriend just chuckled. "I guess that in a way, we both are. Maybe for each other?" If he'd aimed for self-deprecating tone, he failed. Instead, it was hopeful.

Steve didn't answer, but his embrace said it all.

They remained wrapped around each other for a long while, until Eddie whispered in Steve's ear: "how about we let the others celebrate on their own, hm? They won't be driving, their stuff is already in the guest bedrooms, and I hear your bed is wonderful this time of the year."

There was a muffled "yes" coming from Eddie's shoulder, and a few adjustments and "Good night!"s later, they found themselves in Steve's bedroom. Eddie managed to remove most of the rogue eyeliner, which was lucky. The time in the bathroom wasn't the last time he shed a tear that day, because as they were falling asleep, Steve said:

"You might be the first person who is dating the real me, and I'd like you to be the last one as well."

Tomorrow, he'd hold a funeral for the Munson doctrine. But today, he was going to wrap himself around Steve like a cuddly octopus and know that even if he doesn't manage to hold on tight the whole night, Steve would be there in the morning.

[ladykailitha]

Just having more thinkee thoughts about casually bisexual Steve and Eddie who doesn't have a filter on his mouth, ever. Mature 18+

So they're out at a bar and it's been awhile for Steve and he is just out for a one-night stand. He would like more, sure but tonight is about getting his dick wet.

Robin has already hit the dance floor with their friends, Nancy having managed to drag Jonathan with her.

Steve knocks on the table. "All right, time to find a pussy to put my dick in," he mutters to himself more than Eddie's who's the only one left at their table.

And without thinking Eddie blurts out, "Well if you ever wanted an ass to fuck, give me a call, sweetheart."

And Steve suddenly at Eddie's side faster than he can blink and slots himself between his spread legs.

"That a serious offer, Munson or are you fucking with me?"

Eddie half shrugs. "A little bit of fucking with you with huge dash of wanting you to fuck me."

Steve runs his tongue over his teeth as he thinks it over. "Hmm... if I'm honest I always assumed that if there was fucking you'd be the one giving, not taking."

Eddie just shrugs. "You're not going to hold it against me are ya?"

Steve grins, feral. "You'd like that, huh? Me holding you down, while I fucked you?"

Eddie's brain has completely whited out. Just static.

"I'd drag you to the bathroom," Steve purrs, "but I want to see you under me, hair splayed out on my pillow as fucked into you."

Eddie tries to get up so that they can do just that, but Steve puts his hand on his chest.

"Not so fast, rockstar," Steve says with a sly smile. "If we leave now, our friends would be upset since we just got here. So can you be a good boy for me and wait?"

Eddie gulps and nods. "How long?"

Steve checks his watch. "Is an hour okay?"

Eddie nods again, so Steve pulls his hand and drags him out on the dance floor. The music slows to a love song and Eddie thinks Steve's going to pull away, only he doesn't.

He pulls him closer and they're dancing cheek to cheek.

"I have to tell you," Steve says a little desperate, "if I take you home tonight, that's it--"

"Oh," Eddie says trying to pull away, trying not cry.

"It's you and me as a couple," Steve continues and Eddie just stares at him wide-eyed. "And if that's something you don't want, I'd rather we didn't do anything at all. Because if I got to taste you and not keep you I don't think I'd surv--"

He never finishes that sentence because Eddie is kissing him on the lips as firmly and sincerely as possible.

"Oh!" Steve says brightly. "So that's a yes to the boyfriend thing?"

"Yes, Stevie," Eddie says shaking his head fondly, "it's a yes to the boyfriend thing."

~

On the other side of the dance floor both Jonathan and Nancy are putting money in Robin's hands.

"Do you think it's just sex or..." Nancy asks.

Robin cackles. "Oh it's definitely sex, but it's a relationship all the way."

Nancy huffed. Not because she didn't believe her, she could see it with her eyes. But if it is a relationship--

They kiss and Nancy sighs, digging out another five dollars and handing it Robin.

"How did you know it would happen tonight?" Jonathan asked after handing Robin his own five dollars.

"Eddie has no filter especially two cocktails in," Robin explained, cocking her head to the side and half shrugging. "And Steve loves to bitch about not getting any lately. So you put the two together..." she smashed her hands together, "and you get at the very least, sex in the bathroom. But this is Steve, the most romantic bastard in all of Indiana if not the whole country, he'd only be willing to have sex with Eddie, if it led to more."

Jonathan and Nancy sighed. They really never should have bet against best friend knowledge.

~

Later that night when Steve has Eddie right where he wants him, he reaches out and strokes his cheek.

"You're sweet, Stevie," Eddie murmurs, "but if you don't start soon, I may explode!"

Steve laughs and gets to work fucking wildly into Eddie as they both starts spouting inanities and endearments.

Steve grabs Eddie's cock and works him in rhythm to his own thrusts, with Eddie tripping over his words as he holds on dear life.

After they've both come, and they've cleaned up, they'll lie next to each other on Steve's bed.

Eddie gets up on his elbow to look down at Steve, "So boyfriend privileges means shot gun right?"

Steve bursts out laughing. "Sorry, love," he says shaking his head. "Robin would murder us both."

Eddie cocks his head to the side and then nods. "Yeah, that's fair."

End ~

I don't usually write sub/bottom Eddie, because I picture Steve as a pillow princess all the way, but this wouldn't leave my head. Especially the fucking line. It was too good of a pun not to write, if I'm honest.

[batwritings]

Im back again bc my brain is rotting , plspls , i ask of you , ghost fucking his cute gf on their kitchen counter, like imagine reader is making dinner , dressed in a cute skirt and one of his sweaters , reader looks hot ass fuck to simon , especially because they currently have a vibrating dildo inside of themselves, simon had put it there because he wanted to have fun and what was more fun than making his sweet angel suffer ? So reader is cooking with shakey hands and legs , softly whimper and sniffling while tears run down her face , frustrated that she cant do anything because she had to be a good girl , that is until reader us about to come , she doubles over the counter and her whole body is trembling, she's abo- , oh wait , Simon pulled the dildo out , leaving his poor angel edged until later after dinner , he makes her cum as much as she deserves and absolutely destroys her cunt , cumming inside of her and then fucking it back inside of her , so she can take it like a good girl while he praises her :)))) (idk why i make ts so detailed)

See here's the thing about Simon goddamn Riley: you cannot tell me this man isn't touch starved and in need of someone to push boundaries and experiment with and this would be fucking perfect for that. Enjoy!~

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

To say you and Ghost were an experimental couple in the bedroom would be quite the understatement. If the storage container full of different toys and various bedroom extras wasn't proof enough, you weren't sure what was. So when this man, this touch starved man came up with the idea of making you cook dinner with a vibrator in your cunt, you weren't too surprised.

Dinner was nearly done for the night, but so were you at this point. Your legs were shaking as the vibrating toy did it's job deep in your soaked hole. Tears were starting to stain your cheeks from overstimulation as your end was keeping you teetering on the edge of absolute pleasure.

It was only when your whimpers got louder, hands unsteady to the point that you had to slam your hand on the counter to support your weight that you felt a presence behind you. "Simon...!" You whine, legs clenching together. "Please...! Cl-ohhh...!"

You cry out in disappointment, nearly a sob as you feel Ghost's hand slip beneath your pretty skirt to pull the toy from your stretched hole. "Not until after dinner darlin'," he rumbles, voice dark with arousal yet mocking at the same time.

Your mind is fuzzy, a blur as he helps you plate the food and settle in your seat, watching you with critical cocoa eyes to make sure you finished it all. You'd need all the energy you could take in before he got his hands on you. The moment your plate was clear, he's on you, pulling your seat back and out of the way as he pins you to the table from behind.

You don't miss the man's bulge pressing right against your eager cunt, whimpering as he frees it to rub along your slick entrance. "So pretty, in my sweater," he growls directly in your ear, breath so hot it makes you shiver. "But so naughty with no panties on for me."

"Pleeease Simon...!" You're practically in tears again, desperate to get back to where you wanted to be. You don't need to ask twice, sobbing out in pleasure as you feel Ghost thrust into you roughly. He fucks you harshly, the table rocking violently as he slams his cock into you over and over.

Between grunts and groans the blonde is spewing out praise left and right. Some of it is mixed with degradation, but it's all such sweet music in your ears that brings you close and closer to completion. "So close babygirl," he moans, fingers bruising on your hips. "Come for me sweetheart. Show me how good you feel."

You don't need to be told twice, crying out in pleasure as you milk his cock for all it's worth. Ghost isn't far behind you, a long moan indicating his finish as he spills inside you. You whimper and moan as he fills you, loving how full he's made you feel.

Your military husband cages you in, panting hard against your back as you both come down. You can start to feel the excess mess starting to leak out and down your thighs. A dark chuckle makes you shiver and whine a bit.

"Looks like I'm going to have to ruin you all over again sweetheart."

[curio-queries]

ARE YOU SURE?!

Episode 3 production Notes

I genuinely wasn't expecting to have much to say on this when I started it but there are definitely some things to chat about with this episode. Get comfy, it's another long post!

Here's a link to my post on eps 1 & 2.

(I guess this is a series now)

The Tone

I was curious about how a few things would be handled with the remainder of the show, and some of the answers are starting to unfold. We definitely have to see how the upcoming episodes play out but there's at least something to evaluate.

My main takeaway from episode 3 is that the tone is so very different from the previous ones. In my last post, I spent quite a bit explaining why AYS was a successful mix of Bon Voyage and In The Soop. That's definitely not the case here. This episode is a mix of Bon Voyage and Run BTS tonally. This episode is more what I was expecting they'd try to do with the edit to highlight the chaos and shenanigans that were a main ingredient in the content of BTS as a full team, especially to cover for the reduced member count from the full group.

Some of the main items that make this episode seem more energetic than the previous ones are:

The timeline. Episode 3 covers far less time than 1 or 2 did. It makes it seem like there's just too much going on to fit in the same parameters, which again makes the tone seem overall more rushed and hectic.

The music: far higher bpms consistently on all of the backing tracks.

The choppy edits. When we recognize that there was something missing in the middle of an interaction, our brains are still processing what we might have missed and orienting to what we're seeing next. With all of that going on, it easy to feel 'left behind' in even the most casual of scenes.

The intended audience. I just had one moment here that bumped me. At some point one of the members clearly says 'Fighting' but the translation wasn't just that word. It was a whole sentence about wishing for encouragement or something. These episodes have been very clearly laid out for an audience that is not only familiar with BTS but enough so that we know who each of these members are and why they might be doing these kinds of activities. If you had none of this basic knowledge, I genuinely don't think this show is even watchable...so why would people with that level of understanding need an alternate translation to 'Fighting'? Idk, maybe I'm being overly sensitive but like I said, it bumped me enough to question who their target audience was. Something I didn't even question with the prev eps.

Edited to add: an example of the tone influenced by the edit. Can't believe I forgot this one. It stood out to me in my first watchthrough. Thankfully our beautiful giffers captured the story beats for us all.

The Edit

Like I said at the beginning, this episode was far less a blend of ITS and BV and more a mashup of BV with Run BTS. The only thing in this episode that reminds me of ITS is the extremely choppy edit, which i think most would agree was not one of the highlights of those shows.

There are so many unresolved story beats in this episode of AYS! If you're not used to noticing something like this, here's an example:

In the car after their meal, vmin discuss that it'd be nice to pull over for some pics.

At the coffee drive through, Jimin makes a point to coordinate a stopover with JK so he can have his drink.

...and then we arrive at the house with no resolution. Did they stop? Did JK get his drink? We don't know, the only evidence we have is Tae carrying his partially consumed drink. So IF they stopped, Tae either didn't drink his or it was a very brief stop to not finish.

Here's another one:

When arriving at the house, the guys are all commenting bout how nice the place is.

Jimin exclaims about the pool.

...we don't get an establishing shot of the pool. On a rewatch of the episode, once you already know where it is, you're able to notice it for the slightest of moments but that's it. No hint of how big the pool is or even where in relation to the members it's located. It's just a tiny thing, not even important to the storyline but it leaves the audience without a reference to what the members are talking about.

There are dozens more of examples I could list but I think you get the idea. Again, not a big deal on small productions but you KNOW there was plenty of b-roll footage of the place. We see some of it. These are mostly just tiny observations that, if isolated wouldn't mean anything, but repeatedly set the tone for how the audience will be experiencing the rest of the episode.

The Guest

Another choppy edit is how they handled the introduction of Tae and the narrative that explains his presence here when he wasn't in the previous episodes. They either didn't get any good footage explaining it or they decided to purposefully try to cut it 'dynamically' for a reveal... in my opinion, this was not successfully done and just leaves the viewer feeling like we just need to accept the confusion and enjoy the endearing moments....which is exactly one of the main things I comment on in my Run BTS series. The BTS production team is astoundingly terrible at entertaining exposition. Long time armys are just used to it by now and I really don't see them changing anytime soon. They know ppl will watch the content for the moments we get to spend with the members, whether there's a proper narrative or not, so why bother?

Anyway, it's clear to see why those who have a bias against Tae have been using this as ammunition in their fanwars. It's just an awkward narrative that was poorly presented. (Personally, I'd rather everyone just focus on celebrating the members moments with each other rather than warping them to win imaginary points in a pointless battle but alas, I'm just an aging fan in a space that rewards useless vitriol).

Jimin's sickness...again

Poor guy just can't catch a break! At least that was the point they were trying to make editing it this way. Honestly, Jimin has so far been not as impacted as he was the previous episodes. Likely due to this upset being far more mild than the last one. However, there's so much more tension with it cut the way it was in episode3. It's not just that we're aware of it upfront unlike we were in episode 1. It's only highlighted in moments where Jimin is NOT participating in whatever the others are: not eating, not swimming, not climbing. In episode 1, most of the scenes that included any mention of Jimin feeling unwell also included some hint of JK wanting to take care of him or inquiring after his health. Episode 3 includes no such scenes. The overall impact is a much lighter view of how the members spent an exciting day rather than a genuine look into how they're interacting with each other as humans.

One last note: The Sound

There are definitely some horrific sound moments this episode! So much so that I noticed some on my first watchthrough! Again, there are allowances to be made, this is not a show being shot on a sound stage in controlled conditions but some moments were just plain misses in the edit.

For example, when vmin is listening to music in the car, the balancing of SEVEN from vmin's audio is horrific. The way to do this properly is manage the audio levels of their voices alone and overlay with the music track. This will help mask any audio that leaked into their mics. Something that can be easily done with rights to the music...which they have. And oh look at that, they do it correctly for J-Hope's Arson! It honestly is just coming across as a missed correction on the edit but I'd expect more from a BTS show that's licensed to Disney.

That's it for now. Overall, I'm disappointed in the edit of this episode but moreso because of how pleasantly surprised i was by the previous episodes. This one was very much kn par with other BTS content. Im also looking forward to the remaining episodes as I estimate we'll see a little more liveliness from our latenight-loving Jimin now that he's had his nap! 😆

Edited to add:

Are You Sure?! MasterList

[fuctacles]

Henderson's older brother is kinda fine :/ [Part II]

me: I'll write a blurb and nothing else popular demand: *slides into my DMs* [Part I] [Part III]

They finished Eddie's assignment that first day but Dustin invited him over again the next week. He told him to bring whatever homework he has, and they can brainstorm it together.

This time Eddie braced himself as he approached the door, expecting to run into the older brother again. But to his surprise, Dustin was the one to open the door. 

"They left you unsupervised?" He raised his eyebrows as he stepped past his friend.

Dustin rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful.

"Very funny. Steve had the morning shift today, but he should be back for dinner."

"Ah, the things we could get up to until then," Eddie's eyes sparkled with mischief but Dustin slapped him in the stomach with the strength of a dwarf.

"Yeah, like helping you graduate."

"Oof," Eddie winced, twisting away from his deceitfully powerful hands. "You're no fun, Henderson. Where is your adventurous spirit?"

"At the DnD table, duh."

"Touché."

So Eddie put on his mom-charming pants (they worked the best when no actual moms were involved, just like all his other pants) and did not go looting around his friend's house. Instead, he spread his latest assignments on Dustin's bed, claiming it as his territory for the time being. Dustin worked on his own stuff at his desk, like a civilized human being. Barf.

An hour of relative silence had passed before Dustin set down whatever he was doing and turned in his chair.

"I think you're like Lucas."

It took Eddie a moment to even process the words. He looked up to find his younger friend propped up on his elbow and staring at him.

"Huh?"

"I think you might be like Lucas," he repeated with his customary eye roll.

Eddie thought about the sporty jock-wannabe Sinclair, scrunching his nose.

"How?"

Dustin seemed pleased to be asked that as he sat up eagerly to proceed with his reasoning. Which were for sure very scientific and not pulled out of his ass. Eddie braced himself for an impromptu lecture.

"His grades dropped when he got his own room. But he aced all his tests when it was being painted, and he had to bunk with Erica for a few days. So, we made an experiment and whenever he would study or do homework with someone else in the room, it got better results than when he worked alone," he paused, eyeing his friend. "Are you following?"

Eddie clicked his tongue.

"What I'm following is you used your friend as a test subject."

The boy threw his hands in the air in the way that always made Eddie grin. The kid was so delightfully dramatic.

"For his benefit. And now for yours!"

Eddie huffed in thought, simultaneously hopeful to find a solution for his skittery brain and irritated it might have been that easy this whole time. 

"So I just need a study buddy?" he asked, scrunching his nose.

"Yep," Dustin grinned at him. "I know your uncle isn't home most of the time, but you're welcome here whenever you need to work on something."

Eddie mulled that thought in his head, weighing pros and cons and asking his gut how it felt about it. His gut likes the food in Henderson's house though, so it might be a bit biased.

"You know what, Henderson? I just might take you up on that."

As if on cue, the front door opened and closed, the sound of keys dropping in the bowl following.

"Dustin?"

"Up here!" Dustin hollered and if Eddie was a lesser man, with shittier taste in music, it might have damaged his earbuds. But they were honed in by the sweet tones of metal, therefore a screeching teenager was not enough to break them at this point.

"Oh, hi Eddie!" Steve was standing in the doorway, slightly out of breath and hair not as magnificent as Eddie got used to seeing, a poster boy from a hairspray commercial no more. Ah, what capitalism does to people.

"Your hair looks sad," he observed with a slight tilt of his head.

"Uh," the guy raised his hand to his hair, pulling at the flat fringe self-consciously. "Well, sorry I didn't have the energy to doll myself back up after 8 hours of customer service."

Eddie snorted.

“Doll yourself up? Who says that?”

“I do,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms but the reddening apples of his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. Good. What grown-ass man refers to himself as a doll? Even one looking like an animated Ken. But that would be dark magic, which Eddie of course doesn't condone.

“I think Robin started it,” Dustin offered, unhelpfully. “She was trying to bully him, but it backfired because he actually likes it.” He made a disgusted face.

“Hey!”

“A doll, Steve? That’s kinda gay,” Eddie shook his head feigning disappointment. Instead of morphing into irritation though, Steve’s face hardened, and suddenly he remembered his nerdy friend’s brother was actually a jock. Former, reformed, doesn't matter. Abs were abs.

“Yeah? And what’s wrong with that?” he asked, eyes set on Eddie, unblinking.

He took a quick glance around the room. The window was open, but it was the first floor and Gareth would kill him if he broke as much as a finger again. So he dusted off the little matchbox of courage that was left somewhere inside him, and offered:

“Uh, nothing? Gays are cool. Dolls are cute. All is good.” He stretched his lips in the best attempt at a smile he could muster right now.

Steve still has not blinked, which was starting to stress Eddie out. Were his eyes always this piercing? He was staring for too long, could match their exact shade to one of the trees surrounding the trailer park by now, but was too afraid to look away. If he showed weakness, he might get chewed alive, spat out and stomped on, for a good measure.

“Good,” Steve said finally, and Eddie could breathe again. “We don’t badmouth gays in this household.”

“We don’t,” Dustin nodded feverishly, eager to get his brother out of the room. This indeed seemed to appease him, as he finally unclenched his jaw, uncrossed his arms and rapped his knuckles against the door frame.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower and start on the dinner. You stayin’?” he asked, eyes back on Eddie, who was paralyzed enough, that Dustin had to swoop in and answer for him.

“Yep, he’s staying.”

“‘Kay,” Steve slapped the door frame, suddenly smiling again, and closed the door. If not for the slow breeze from the open window, Eddie would be already dead in the vacuum-sealed room, because he surely took away all the oxygen on his way out.

He scooted on the bed to face Dustin, who was about to open a book and start reading like whatever had just happened hadn’t just happened.

“Soo, is Steve…?”

Dustin looked at him. Eddie looked at him back.

“Is Steve what?” Dustin prodded, in that annoyed tone of his.

Eddie was a wordsmith, he could write and lead campaigns, produce not-half-bad lyrics and lie his way out of trouble. Usually. He got this.

He opened his mouth. Frowned. He did not get this.

“Gay?” he asked quietly.

“Pshhh, no,” Dustin waved his hand. “He’s a ladies' man.”

“Right, yeah,” Eddie nodded like the bobbing head figurine on his uncle’s dashboard. “Then why…”

Dustin shrugged, the unhelpful bastard.

“I think his father is a homophobe? And Steve was kind of a jerk a few years back, he’s trying to be better now. Overcompensating a bit, if you ask me but eh,” he shrugged again. The helpfulest kid in Hawkins. Baby Henderson opened his book, closing the topic, so Eddie fell back on the bed, taking a well-needed break from his study break.

Normally, when the topic of gays was brought up, it was unpleasant and long-winded, full of exchanged opinions, usually hateful ones. Here, the Hendersons were treating it like small talk, not the can of worms that just opened in Eddie’s stomach. Okay, gross. They would crawl around, who knows in which direction? And the can itself? So many sharp edges, so unsanitary.

Needless to say, it wasn’t something Eddie would forget about quickly like they seemed to expect him to.

Alas, he was Dustin’s study-guest, so the kid gave him five minutes to ponder on the worms crawling inside him, before slapping the side of his head with a book to get him back on track. He wouldn’t even let him out on a leak pass until he showed he was done with the chapter he started.

Finally free for a second, Eddie left the bathroom but instead of returning to Dustin’s room, he was lured downstairs by the atrocious sounds of ABBA. Was ABBA gay? He was going to overthink everything now, wasn’t he? Honestly, the whole pop genre felt gay. Metal, that was manly as fuck. Very heterosexual.

For a second he stood in the kitchen’s door frame watching the older Henderson sway his hips around in a yellow apron. It would be almost endearing if the music didn’t make his brain try to collapse on itself. 

He quickly approached the radio and slammed the pause button to save the poor man from further eardrum damage.

“What is this?” he asked when Steve turned to face him.

“Uh. The radio?” he frowned, the poor guy having no idea what he was saying. The top 40 made him delirious.

“What was the radio playing?” Eddie asked in his most condescending tone, eyebrows raised.

“.... ABBA?”

Eddie scoffed.

“I’ll bring you some real music, hang on a second.” And he was gone, on a quest to educate the masses. “Masses” being one Steve Henderson, but as an older brother and Dustin’s role model he had a duty to uphold and Eddie was generous enough to help him out.

He ran out to his car and rummaged through his cassettes, wondering which one was most appropriate for a cooking background. Not a thing he would practice himself, but metalheads eat too, sometimes, so it couldn't be such a farfetched concept. Right?

Eventually, he dumped an armful of tapes on the counter, grinning at Steve wildly.

“One of them has to work for…” he waved a hand in the general direction of chopped-up vegetables. “Whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I will not believe you haven't cooked before.”

Eddie only shrugged at that and popped the first tape of choice into the player. Steve frowned at the tunes but wisely didn't object.

“Since you’re making yourself comfortable in my kitchen, why don’t you help me out a bit?”

“Ah, I’d love to, but there’s this solo I just have to-” he broke into an elaborate air guitar, imitating the riffs from memory while banging his head. He couldn’t see Steve’s face, but he was undoubtedly impressed. Eddie looked metal as fuck. He was super cool, super manly.

“I thought you were just taking a dump but then, guess what? I hear Iron Maiden from the kitchen!”

What wasn’t cool, was being scolded by a fourteen-year-old.

“Got lured by the sweet tunes, huh, big guy?”

“Dustin please, take him away from me.”

Dustin looked between the older boys, one maniacally jumping around, the other wielding a knife and a carrot. He considered his chances and favorable outcomes.

“If we switch to Metallica I’ll help with cooking,” he offered, to which Steve shrugged and Eddie gleefully switched the tapes.

He jumped around, watching the two Hendersons work together and to his absolute terror, he felt a teeny tiny desire to join in. Thankfully, his pride was still hidden beneath a half-dead tree.

He circled them like a curious cat, getting closer and closer, until his face almost squished against Steve’s arm, still dutifully chopping.

“What are we making?”

“We,” Steve accentuated, jostling the intruder's head. “Are making baked vegetables. You are jumping around like a lunatic.”

Eddie gasped.

“I am providing entertainment!”

“Can you provide the baking pan?” Dustin asked dryly. “It’s in the oven.”

“Only if it means I get to taste the fruits of my hard work.”

“You don’t have to help us to get dinner.” Steve bumped his shoulder with a roll of his eyes. “But, helpers get an extra cookie.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so?”

Eddie was truly a genius. He got to help out his fake little brother and his older brother without outwardly asking to be included! And to think he failed senior year twice.

“Go do your nerdy things, I’ll call you when it’s done,” Steve wiped his hands on a towel, food in the oven and the timer set. Dustin was more than happy to leave, and was first to run up the stairs. Eddie was about to follow but a light tug on his shirt stopped him. He turned around, confused, only to be met with Steve pressing a finger to his lips, which, more confusion.

Not easing his grasp, he pulled him back into the kitchen and opened one of the cupboards, where he grabbed a jar and popped it open, releasing a mouthwatering aroma.

“One,” he ordered, and without having to be told twice, Eddie reached in to find a chocolate chip cookie.

“You trying to poison me?” he asked, even if his tongue was one slip away from tasting the treat.

“I would never put poison in my baking,” Steve made a face like the mere suggestion offended him. Eddie raised his eyebrows. 

“You made this?”

“Fucking- Eat it before Dustin comes looking for you. I’m trying to be nice.” Steve gritted his teeth, putting the jar back away.

Eddie felt a little bad for pushing him, but only a little. He finally put the cookie in his mouth and took a bite.

Holy shit.

“This is so fucking good!” he mumbled, crumbs flying everywhere, which earned him a disgusted expression.

“Good thing I haven’t swept yet,” Steve murmured, looking at the floor with disdain. “Now scram. Don’t show up until dinner.”

“Yes, sir!” Eddie saluted, crumbs dripping, and ran away, before Steve’s deadly kitchen rag could reach his butt.

User tags: @i-have-three-feelings @mblogs @awkwardgravity1 @imacowboy3 [Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]

[bloodyquillink-blog]

White at Your Wedding, Ghosts HC’s

Prompt: How the Ghosts would react to someone wearing white at your wedding.

A/N🪶: Hello again. To anyone who may have been keeping up with my fic “Sugar and Lemon”, I’m sorry I haven’t been writing. Between creative juices for the fic running out as well as school, I haven’t been as motivated. However, I do want to continue it. I just need to find the right time. I’m doing summer classes otherwise I probably would be working on it now. It’s just overwhelming at this point. But I still want to give y’all something with the Ghosts since I know a lot of people in that part of the fandom don’t usually get a lot unless it’s with (typically) Keegan. Nothing wrong with that, I just want to include more of them, especially more underrated characters like Ajax and David/Hesh. Thanks for reading this blurb <3

HC Note/TW: May include descriptions/mentions of weapons, violence/violent intentions, shitty people, harassment. Please note: I’m gonna make this AU style where Rorke wasn’t turned and no one was killed because I said so. Reader is gn so their groomsmen/bridesmaids will just be referred to as your “friends on the side”. 

I made a separate one for David because I love him, find that here

Storyline:

He was almost done getting ready. Today was finally that day, that beautiful day that he never thought would happen. Between the world gradually being broken down each time it was nearly put back up, he had expected to be killed in action like everyone else. But perhaps fate was on his side for now. He knew better than to expect everything to run smoothly, though. 

With two different people from two different families, someone was bound to have some opinions. It was just a matter of whether or not they voiced it. Of course, he had made plans just in case. He was getting married to you and there was no way in hell, heaven or on this Earth someone was going to stop that. They could interrupt the wedding all they wanted to, however they pleased. They could set the whole damn thing on fire, but he’d still marry you. 

He tried not to think about how beautiful you’d look, lest he start blushing. It didn’t work but the attempt was worth it, despite the pestering the other Ghosts would no doubt lay upon him. 

The time came and he stood on the slightly elevated stage, groomsmen and best man at his side. Normally, he doesn’t wear white but this is a wedding… his wedding… his and yours wedding. His back was to the hallway you would walk out of, so he kept looking to the faces of his friends and family for any indication. His heart beat was relatively controlled… and then the music began playing… and they smiled… and the officiant gave him the look to turn around. So he did.

And by God, you were ethereal. He couldn’t tell if his heart stopped or was beating so fast he could no longer feel it. His brain was short-circuiting. You had made your way up to the stage, your friends on the side smiling. He just stared, had he been smiling since he saw you? His cheeks were hurting already. You looked up at him, your smile like the sun, he couldn’t care less about going blind if it meant the image of you would be imprinted in his eyes.

Logan Walker

This man would be trying so hard not to panic.

He almost gets whiplash from how fast his head turned to David who, alongside Merrick, would pipe up and tell off the person.

Logan would have been prepared in a rather classy way. 

See… There’s a thing where, if someone wears white at a wedding, especially a dress, the bridesmaids can take wine and pour it on them, effectively ruining the dress.

Logan absolutely has heard of this and got your friends the cheapest wine possible.

Logan looks at your friends and signals to them to get the wine. 

One of them moves around closer to them so their attention is away from the friends with the wine.

David and Merrick tell them that they need to leave.

As they get up to get in their face, wine is poured on them.

They yell and fuss, claiming you and Logan are going to pay for their outfit as they stomp out of the room. 

You, not having expected this, stand there. Your hands are held by Logans and your mouth hangs open.

Your friends smile at you, David and Merrick chuckling to themselves as they all come back to their original positions.

You struggle to form coherent words.

“Did you- when did- where’d the wine come from?! Was that planned?!”

And the wedding continues, the smell of wine and the sound of laughter flowing through the air.

Elias T. “Scarecrow” Walker'

You know this man would be willing to drag out the guilty party himself. 

I fully believe he’d pick them up and carry them outside. 

Otherwise he’d probably set up his other comrades to be guards so people don’t try to get in.

I could imagine it being an old ex or probably a family member he hates. None of the soldiers he knows would dare do that to someone like him, he’s garnered so much respect from them over the years.

Any one of his friends, whether groomsmen or guests, I know they’d all stick up for him as he just watches with a smile.

Thomas A. Merrick

Roasts the ever loving shit out of whoever is wearing white.

“If you’re gonna wear white, at least pick an outfit that fits you right.”

“Did you get that from Walmart? I think I saw that when I went last week.”

“That would look better on Riley, but hey, who am I to judge?”

I know the person would willingly walk out without having to be escorted, due to embarrassment.

Gabriel T. Rorke

I can’t see him having a very public wedding. There is a very short list of people allowed and if there’s someone he doesn’t know, he’s meeting them beforehand.

If someone dared to wear white, well…

As all eyes are on them as they stand, showing off the color that was only meant for the two of you, he takes the opportunity since everyone is distracted.

He slowly reaches and shifts his white suit jacket, lifting just the edge, enough for the offender to see the gun, or other weapon, he has tucked away.

He lets go so he looks normal again, while the person is left with wide eyes, suddenly nervous.

They leave with minimal issue and everything resumes, people are left confused but eventually shrug it off as Rorke having intimidated them with his presence alone.

Keegan P. Russ

Keegan would be the type where, prior to the wedding, he expects everyone to show what they are planning on wearing.

He makes sure the two of you set guidelines so it is absolutely clear that if anyone tries to come in wearing white, they will be thrown out and not allowed back in. 

This man does not leave room for error. 

He takes advantage of having your friends/family’s (bridesmaids/groomsmen) contact info so he can keep an eye on everything.

Would absolutely sweet talk your grandparents or parents into keeping him informed whenever possible, especially if there’s gossip (Keegan loves gossip and you can’t tell me otherwise).

Alex V. “Ajax” Johnson

He wouldn’t bring weapons like Rorke or make snide comments like Merrick.

This is a man of respect, and while he’d be annoyed, he’d be prepared.

As people turned around and gasped and gossiped, he’d remain calm and relaxed despite his comrades wanting to push the person out.

He’d want them to be politely escorted out and you wouldn’t have to do anything.

Naturally, he’s fuming but this is your wedding after all. He maintains his composure.

If the person speaks up, they’ll be escorted out. If not, I can imagine him letting them stay, not wanting to waste time and probably continuing to marry you out of spite and right before the dinner, they suddenly aren’t allowed in.

They’re edited out of any photos they may have forced their way into, everyone basically ignores them. 

I love you, Ajax <3

Kick

This guy is just getting married privately.

Mostly just because regular weddings are so hectic and frankly, he isn’t much of a people person but he still wants to marry you.

[salamispots]

watched alien romulus, liked it, spoilers below :0

I...liked it? like there were some really nice things about it, like the opening scenes of the movie/maybe first half? and then idk the parts where they start interacting with the xenomorphs themselves didn't really feel that tense

-I DID really like the demon baby scene/buildup a lot

-like going down the ladder to find this normal sized baby and watching the foot/hand prints get larger and larger and the first reveal they show you is this weird thing crouching in the shadows and when it steps out it's like o H D:

-andy going up to the sister and when he turns around it's like all the sound cuts out and it took my brain a couple seconds to figure out what I was looking at but oufughdhgfjhg creepy very very good

-ALSO A+ for andy's dad jokes :'D and acting

-the characters are all young looking (not necessarily bad?) but they weren't as compelling compared to others in other movies

-sound design at the beginning when you're settling in is really nice, esp. when they're taking off to space; set design too is gorgeous

-the scene where they first enter the ship and somebody throws a flare/the camera tilts is neat haha

-the little slip in of david's theme/music when the other android's talking about the black goo goOD

-hmmm thinking about it or maybe just me imagining the gore/body horror scenes (for the most part) felt kinda held back? (not talking about the uh wall vagina egg or the xenomorph aspects haha)

-like the scene where the wall egg is dripping blood on the guy

-I think what makes me fond of prometheus and covenant is the fact that they run around on these weird/dead planets and the whole thing with the engineers

-noticed similarities/mashups from the other movies in this one which isn't necessarily bad but it did break immersion a little or made me like 'oh! third act pregnancy like prometheus or a cargo hold battle sort of like covenant, or alien resurrection where the alien gets sucked out into space through that tiny hole

-idk how I feel about the offspring design, will need to watch/see it again; it's a little goofy hahah (again not a bad thing) but I do like that they have the engineer/marble statue alien face and how the hips were a bit off/twisted

-the part where it was grinning was creepy; also when it was hovering over the sister with the mouth retracting I thought they were gonna do a very strange/fucked up version of breastfeeding but it doesn't look like they did? or at least couldn't tell

-edit: oH according to reddit it did happen dfghjf plus they mentioned when she draws her hand of her shirt with weird goo on it

-also slappy slimy facehugger proboscis >:'D

-some of the action scenes reminded me a little of the alien movie that had the underwater alien fight scenes haha

-will need to rewatch in general (movie theatre audio/words getting eaten up in the sound + no subtitles) it's good but I think covenant and prometheus still win out for me

edit: this also makes me wanna go back and watch the movies in chronological or timeline order haha

[cvrnelians]

smile like you mean it - chapter five

You knew filing for divorce would be no easy feat. But filing for divorce from Roman Roy?

"No easy feat” might as well have been synonymous with “impossible."

warnings: drug use, alcoholism, miscarriage, Roman and the rest of the Roy family being awful.

chapters 1-3 // chapter four

music

chapter five

10 ways to get someone to like you: A foolproof guide

If you want to be liked, be likable.

Roman scowled and slammed his laptop shut, carelessly tossing it to the end of the bed. 

“What a stupid fucking article.”

He got up and stretched, his limbs still rigid from a heavy sleep. If there was anything positive to come out of the complete and utter shitshow that was the day before, a good night’s sleep took the cake. Rest was something Roman didn’t get a whole lot of lately, but when he did sleep, he slept hard. 

Prior to becoming COO of Waystar Royco, he had always been a heavy sleeper. It wasn’t unusual for him to get eight hours of shuteye even after napping all day. He had a copious amount of (not-so-fond) childhood memories in which Connor, Kendall, and Shiv jumped on his bed in order to wake him up. They often had to hit him with pillows and shake him to the point of nausea to get him to finally open his eyes.

Well, they didn’t really have to. 

There were a small handful of differences between now and then. 

Although he would never admit it, his job was a big source of stress for him. The most pathetic thing about it? Most days he didn’t accomplish even twenty five percent of what his colleagues did. And what he was able to do completely exhausted him. It was a lot to live up to, being the inheritor—and now a figurehead—of a monster he hadn’t created; a monster he wasn’t even sure he wanted to keep feeding. 

Another major difference between now and then was that Kendall no longer needed to shake him from a dead sleep in order to make him feel nauseous. All it really took was watching him walk into your room in the middle of the night, casual as could be, to put Roman into a not-so-ideal headspace.

“Acting like he was reuniting with an old friend or some shit,” he mumbled under his breath. He got into the shower, his mind going a million miles a minute as he continued talking to himself. “I’m Kendall,” he mocked. “I’m better than everyone now, didn’t you know? I went to rehab. I drink green juice. I’ve read The Secret. I don’t have stress anymore because I never see my own children. Look how stable I am now.” 

This was the one downside of being so well-rested. His brain actually lived up to its potential. His mind simply refused to slow down. No matter how hard he willed himself not to think of you, he only thought about you that much more. Not that this was all that different from any other day. Roman thought about you all the time, sleep deprived or not.

He liked you. Okay? Even with your cheap clothes and your shitty attitude and your refusal to sit next to him in the car, he had some…feelings when it came to you.

Ew.

He hated it when you were upset with him, and he hated it even more when you weren’t around.

From the first time he saw you, he liked you. A lot, actually.

Roman liked you a lot.

He had gone to your room the night before to say he was sorry discuss how hypersensitive you were being in response to the hilarious things he said, but he stopped short in the doorway. 

As it turned out, you were busy. So as any gentleman would, Roman said fuck that noise and booked it back to his room. That was the second time you made him run that day, you little jerk.

He wondered if he should take bearing witness to that stomach-turning embrace between you and Kendall as a sign. Perhaps he should never apologize to anyone, for any reason, ever again. Not even to those who deserved an apology. Not even to you. If that was what he got for trying to be the bigger person, having to watch his stormcloud of an older brother get what he wanted without even having to try, well…what was the point? 

“Likable. Likable? What does that even mean?” he asked himself. 

Why would the author of that article automatically assume the people reading it were the unlikable ones? What kind of introduction was that? Why should he have to shoulder the responsibility of someone not liking him? Why should he have to do all this work to win you over? Why was he even worried about it? You should be the one trying to get into his good graces. You should be the one typing stupid questions into Google at seven o’ clock in the morning, not him. It didn’t matter that he called you a run-of-the-mill, ladder climbing, H&M wearing plebeian (or a coffee gopher). It didn’t matter that he had driven you to the brink of a full blown mental breakdown under his tenure. It didn’t matter that knowing he was the one that made you cry felt like a punch to the gut.

...which didn't even turn him on, by the way.

None of it mattered. He shouldn’t have to apologize for a thing. You were obviously sleeping with Kendall. Kendall! Even if you weren’t working for him, sleeping with Kendall would still put you in the wrong in any context. You were trying so desperately to make Roman believe he was the problem, just as everyone else did. You little gaslighter. 

You weren’t seriously going to leave over a couple of little insults, right?

Right?

He was so distracted by his own thoughts, he somehow managed to get a concerning amount of shampoo in his eyes. 

“Ow, FUCK!” 

Following five stressful minutes of washing his eyes out (or trying to, anyway), he slumped over and held his hands over his face, allowing the water to run directly over his head. He could still picture you crying on the plane, which he had been doing on a loop for the past several hours. He could concede that he came off a little unpleasant at times, but it was more of a defense mechanism than anything. Deep down, Roman knew he didn’t take anyone seriously simply because no one else took him seriously. But you had wanted to be taken seriously, and did everything to earn that. 

You were having some relatively fun banter prior to the moment he turned on you like a feral dog. When he was finished with his cutting little monologue, you looked like you had been slapped. Seeing you so upset and proceeding to mock you for it…

Ugh.

This was not uncharacteristic of Roman, but it wasn't necessarily his proudest moment, either. It made him sick to his stomach, as a matter of fact. 

A lot of things about the past few days made him sick to his stomach.

He could remember having a similar feeling from when he was growing up. Everything would be fine and dandy until he would say or do one little thing to set Logan off, and then bam: 

First came the hurt, then came the ridicule. 

“Oh, you’re crying now? You’re crying? Why don’t you just go tell Kendall about it? I’m sure he’d love nothing more.” 

Roman cringed at his own words.

First came the hurt, then came the ridicule. 

And then he was alone.

If you want to be liked, be likable.

He would never say it to you directly, but if he could, he would.

"I’m sorry I made you so sad."

☽ 

“You have no idea how things will turn out, and it’s very juvenile. It’s fucking dumb. You’re being dumb!”

You cringed as Kendall’s words bounced around in your head.

Last night had been very interesting, to say the least.

For several hours now, you lay flat on your back, slipping in and out of a restless sleep. When you did become lucid, you simply stared up at the impossibly tall vaulted ceiling. It was painted and preserved beautifully, gold borders encasing rich shades of red and blue. You reached your arm up, pretending to trace and retrace the intricate patterns with your fingers. Exhausted yet unable to sleep, you needed something mindless and soothing to wind yourself down. 

Sadly, your efforts were to no avail. Your mind was still racing, hyper focused on what transpired the night before. It was jarring to think that just a simple “so, how have you been?” from Kendall would open a Pandora's box you had no clue even existed. You didn’t have much time to concentrate on it, though. At that moment, two things happened at once.

You felt a stab of panic as you received a notification that your flight was now boarding. You couldn’t believe it. You had missed your flight. You had dissociated to the point of having missed your flight. And before you could even sit up, you were startled by a loud banging noise against your door. It sounded like someone was ramming something into it full force. You weren't even sure who you were hoping not to see at this point.

Not since Kendall went absolutely ballistic on you.

“Knock, knock!” a familiar voice yelled. He didn’t bother actually knocking, nor did he wait for you to respond. He probably thought the unpleasant crash was sufficient enough.

You were almost relieved.

Enter one Roman Roy.

But he wasn’t alone. In front of him was the culprit, the battering ram that nearly gave you a heart attack, in the form of a large metal breakfast cart. If that wasn’t bizarre enough, he was dressed in athletic wear. He looked out of place in such a grandiose room, like you were playing a beginner’s version of “I Spy.” 

I spy with my little eye something reprehensible.

“Here comes the breakfast fairy,” he said in an awkward, singsong voice. He slowly rolled  the unsteady cart towards you. “Here to um…y’know. Bring you breakfast. Breakfast just for you.”

A wheel broke off as he made his way over, making coffee spill onto the tray. He cursed as he shakily lifted the tray up off the cart and reached over to hand it to you. You gawked at him. “Okay, that’s what I get for saying that. That was fucking stupid. I didn’t say that. You don’t remember me saying that.” 

“You brought me breakfast?”

“It would appear so,” he said cheerfully. “Like a good boy.”

“I missed my flight,” you blurted out awkwardly. 

He paused for a second, taking a deep breath before reverting back to his typically rude delivery. “Yeah, not my problem. Can you please just take the tray? It’s really heavy.”  

“I missed my flight,” you repeated. 

He ignored you and slowly set the tray on your lap. He lifted the lid to reveal a pretty solid breakfast as far as you were concerned: a single poptart and two comically large cups of coffee. One was black, the other a latte with a poorly drawn happy face carved into the foam. You would have laughed if you weren’t so stressed out. All of this buildup for a lone pastry and an alarming amount of coffee.

“Where’s the second poptart?”

“I ate it. Obviously. Don’t be ungrateful,” he snapped. “You like wildberry, right? You seem like you would like wildberry. A little fun, a little different. Spice up your life, or whatever.”

You rolled your eyes, breaking the poptart into several pieces before taking a bite. “You could have the most elaborate breakfast in the world, and yet you’d prefer to have this?”

“What? I may be rich but that doesn’t mean I like exclusively rich people things. Have you seen rich people food? I mean, probably not but…” 

You tentatively picked up the latte. “Did you poison this? Did you spit in this?”

“Hah, you wish.”

“I wish?”

“I mean, I can if you’d like,” he said, leaning towards you.

“No!” you yelled, making him wince. You lowered your voice. “Sorry, no. I think I’m alright.”

He reached down to pick up the other mug. “This one's for meee.”

“Of course it is.”

He gasped, cradling the side of his face with his palm in mock excitement. “Uh oh. I have an idea. Do you want to spit in mine?”

“I hate this conversation," you sighed. "You’d probably be into that, so I’m gonna say no.”

“Well, how do you know for sure that the cool one is yours?”

You shrugged. “Because I’m cool.”

“You sure about that?” 

“And I know you like your coffee black.”

“Touché,” he said, leaning against the wall across from your bed. You both drank your coffee in silence for a few moments.

“Did you bring this from home?” you asked, pointing to the poptart. 

“No. I made that lanky muppet go buy me a box.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Wh...Wait, are you talking about Greg?”

“Yeah, I figured I would send Gumby on a little errand since I apparently can’t do that with you anymore. Since you’re—” he made air quotes with his fingers—“quitting.” 

“Wait, does he even know how to drive in the UK? How did he even get to a store? We’re miles from—” 

“I told him I would make him sleep outside if he didn’t figure out a way to score me some. I have no clue how he got all the way out into the city so fast. Can you believe that? Being tall does have its perks, I guess. His strides had him moving at the speed of light, apparently.” 

You gawked at him again, horrified. 

Poor, poor Greg.

You dropped the remaining pieces of the poptart on your plate. “I’m not hungry anymore.” 

“Oh come on, it’s funny. Don’t let his efforts be in vain.” He took a big gulp of coffee. “Anyway. I was thinking...”

“Why are you dressed like that?” you asked.

“Like what?”

“Like a fitness influencer.”

“I was getting to that. Don’t interrupt me.”

You leaned your head back and groaned. 

“Okay, drama. Calm down. We’re all supposed to go golfing this morning, but I hate golf. I'm pretty sure you do, too. You told me once. So I thought maybe we could, like. I don’t know. Pretend to go for a run like we usually do? Talk? Only if it’s not going to cut into your busy schedule, of course. Ms. Newly Unemployed.”

“Roman, what could you possibly want to talk about? If you’re going to try and convince me to stay, don’t waste your time.”

“I was thinking we could get to know each other, at least a little bit. That way, I would know what to put in your reference letter when you blow this popsicle stand.”  

“Yeah. Like you would write the letter yourself,” you mused. "Like you even could. You can't even reply to an email in a timely manner."

“Hey!”

“Fine. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do. Like I said, I missed my flight and am feeling like a total idiot. Bet you’re really getting off on that one.” 

He stared at you for a few seconds, like he was thinking carefully about what to say next. 

“What?” you asked.

He sighed. “I’m not getting off on it as much as you might think.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“I don’t know how you perceive me exactly, but I have a general idea. And I know this might come as a shock, but like I said, I’m really not that bad. I mean, okay. I am. I am. But not in every situation, not always. I’ll have you know, I do have my moments.”

“Yeah? When?”

“Right now, maybe? Look, I brough—”

“Brought me breakfast. Yeah. I can see that.”

“Which I still haven’t gotten a proper thank you for, by the way.”

“I’ll give you a proper thank you when you give me a proper apology.”

“Fine. Okay, I’m sorry I was a little unreasonable with you yesterday. I’m sorry I, uh…manhandled you when we were getting into the car. Or tried to. Like, really, really tried.You’re pretty strong, you know that?” 

“Is that all?” you asked, cocking your head to one side.

“And I’m sorry for what I said about you and Kendall. And calling you names. I didn’t mean it. That about covers it, right?”

“And?”

“...being a dick?”

You considered not even bringing it up, but since you decided to quit your job, you simply did not care anymore.

“Aren’t you sorry that you lied to me?”

“Wait, what?” he asked, on the verge of laughter. “I didn’t lie to you. Lie to you about what?” 

Your conversation with Kendall rang loud and clear in your ears.

“It’s so good to see you. I wish you could’ve been on the flight with us, but I know you got held up. Work comes first.” 

Work comes first? What did that have to do with there not being enough seats on the jet? 

“Got held up?” 

“Yeah, Roman told us you guys were swamped.” 

“I…I mean, yeah. I’m always busy, but we flew separately because Roman told me there wasn’t enough room on the plane for us.” 

“I’m sorry. What did you just say?” 

“Yeah, he said there were some issues with the seats. A few of them needed to be repaired, so there wasn’t enough space for everyone.”

“Are you…oh my god,”  Kendall scoffed. “Oh my fucking god.”

“Ken, I don’t—”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Roman, why did we fly here separate from everybody else?”

Roman choked on his coffee, making him stop to clear his throat. “I already told you, there wasn’t enough space for our sparkling personalities on Dad's favorite plane.”

“Not enough space?”

“Yep.”

“You sure about that?”

“Look, no matter what evocative bullshit you send my way this morning, you can’t change my mind. I’ve already decided. I want to make things up to you. So, if you’re upset that I maybe told a little white lie, I’m sorry.”

“So you did lie, then?”

He eyed you sheepishly.

“Sort of. How did you figure it out?"

“I don’t get it. Of all things, why would you lie about that?” 

“I don’t know, maybe it had something to do with me not wanting to hang out with my family in a torture chamber for hours? What if we crashed? You think I wanna die surrounded by a bunch of scorpions?”

“They’re your family!”

“Unfortunately."

“If the two of us crashed together, you’d have died alongside someone that doesn’t even like you. How is that more appealing?”

"Oh, how you wound me," he said flatly. “That may be so, but you don’t annoy me. Not to mention, you only sting me if I sting you first. It’s refreshing.”

You didn’t have the mental bandwidth to analyze that one this morning.

“Alright, fine. But your apology tour isn’t quite over yet.”

“You do know I don’t have to apologize to you at all, don’t you? You’re leaving. You’re basically nothing to me.”

“And yet, here you are.” 

“What can I say? I’m just such a nice guy.”

You both stared at each other for a second before launching into hysterics.

Roman sighed as you both attempted to stop cackling. “You know this is the most you’ve smiled at me in…like, ever? Is that poptart really that good?”

“I just feel relieved is all.”

“And why is that?”

“Why do you think?” you asked. "I'm finally freeing myself from your reign of tyranny."

"Do you really hate me that much?" he asked, setting down his mug. “We have fun sometimes, don't we? I mean, we got into a blowout argument yesterday and now we're totally fine. Even when we argue, I still don't feel like we're enemies. And believe me, I have a lot of those. Are you sure you want to leave?”

The way he was looking at you was truthfully making you a little sad. But as per usual, he wasn't thinking logically. You were practically attached at the hip every day. Of course there was some level of familiarity between the two of you, even amidst all the chaos. It was easy to mistake for friendship, given how often you were in communication, given how much you did for him. But that was your job.

You had to stop yourself from smiling.

Not anymore, it wasn't.

“Roman, the way we communicate is super dysfunctional. You’ve made me cry multiple times. Yes, I’m sure I want to leave.”

“Ugh," he groaned. "Okay. Look, as far as I'm concerned, you're king shit of fuck mountain right now."

"Excuse me, what?" you laughed.

"What you say goes. Pick a number, I'll increase your salary. Lay out some ground rules. I'm not the most ethically sound person in the world, but I do know how to compromise when it comes to doing what's best for business. And you're probably the only person who can tolerate me, so."

"Roman, I don't think I can come back from yesterday. That was way, way too much. But it's not just you. Last nigh—"

"I was wrong," he interrupted you. "I usually am. Shocker. But here's the thing: you're kind of like...invaluable, to me?" It came out as more of a reluctant question than a statement. His voice was shaky and small as he continued on. "You've, um...helped me a lot. In more ways than one. And I don't want you quitting and just going to work for Kendall again, because I don't really trust him."

"Roman, I can assure you that is not something you will ever have to worry about. Last nigh—"

"Just don't go, please."

You would've been more annoyed with him constantly interrupting you if his voice didn't sound so pitiful, if he didn't look so pitiful. You were caught off guard by the groveling. Not necessarily put off by it, but certainly surprised. This was possibly the most vulnerable you had ever seen him. And the whole breakfast thing; since when did Roman go out of his way to do something deliberately nice for you? It was very obviously to serve his own purposes. He didn't want you to quit, but it didn't seem to come from a bad place.

You had observed him for a second too long, it seemed. He cleared his throat and quickly regained his composure. Just like his kindness, Roman's willingness to be vulnerable also had a very short shelf life.

"If you expect another apology, you can fuck off. And I know you do expect one. But don't actually fuck off, you know what I mean? Out of everybody here, I want you to fuck off the least."

"Wow," you said flatly. "That's amazing."

"I know. I can't believe it, either."

☽ 

kendall 👀👀

@pearlstiare // @ay0nha // @theladyalicnt // @littleladdty @spacebaby1

[starredforlife]

ok top five scenes from the kung fu panda universe (any of the movies, shorts, shows, etc). could be fight scenes, character moments, etc etc so on and so forth

FERN THIS IS SO HARD. FOR ME. UHM !!!!

ESCAPE FROM GONGMEN TOWER please watch it right now please please it's such an underrated scene musically and visually. this is the scene where tigress catches a flaming arrow and that's the exact moment i became a homosexual. vic history. it's also the scene where we see her chops as a leader of the five and the way she's fit into this role to balance out Po so well. and also all her potential as who she could've been, if she'd been chosen to be the dragon warrior herself. but she's not.

MUSICIAN'S VILLAGE I LOVE this scene the way it introduces, to the audience, that the score is going to play a part in the fight scenes of this movie is absolutely magnificent. and the way we get reintroduced to the furious five's + po's fighting style, and it reminds us immediately that they are formidable--and then sets up the inciting incident of the plot with so much mystery (and we see the 2d animation style again too, which has always represented po's inner subconscious. WHY DIDN'T THEY DO THAT FOR THE FOURTH MOVIE. whatever)

i would say the bridge fight (kfp1) and i adore that scene but i have to say, i really love the performances, the ambience, the color boards, the sound effects, and the emotional impact of shifu and tai lung's fight in the 3rd act more. i love when kfp actually invested time in its non-main protag characters. tai lung was an absolutely fascinating villain and this scene just rounds out his character so well

The entirety of the secrets of the scroll short film oh my god i love that one so much. teenage tigress. my baby girl.

FUCK okay and then the fireworks factory (2nd movie) where Po confronts Shen about his past. And he gets shot with a cannon and Tigress doesn't get to him in time. breaks my heart every time. i'm going to include the scene where Tigress and Po fight right before that in the jail too bc the musical score called "Fireworks Factory" starts with THEIR HUG. AND IT ENDS WITH HER RUNNING TO CATCH HIM. AND FAILING. MY BAKA LIFE !!!!! i don't even ship them anymore like i did when i was 14 i mostly just love tigress but their platonic relationship is v important to me. i have to include their hug bc that did irreparable damage to me as a tween. sorry the quality of the first vid is so ass. their relationship in the entire 2nd movie is so good i could write a whole analysis on it probably. it's paining me physically to not include their earlier boat scene talk.

this is also the scene where tigress snarls at the gorilla and that changed my brain chemistry forever.

i love the entire second movie this is so hard for me AUGHHHGHGH okay quick honorary mention: i also love the scene where we see shen fight the three masters (rhino, croc, ox). that quick fight scene is SO well executed. the dialogue and the performances are incredible. i used to have every line of dialogue of this movie memorized and especially loved reciting this scene (skip to 1:10)

and then if i had to pick a moment from the third one it's the one where oogway's statue gets wrecked at the jade palace. it lands emotionally very well for a scene that could have easily been mishandled too comedically or too quickly. like it still gives me chills. and i'm not even gonna touch on the character animation/acting of tigress and shifu here bc GOD. kai's theme does rock also!!! AND i LOVE the colors in this movie SO MUCH holy fuck

and then a minor detail from the first one is i love how the characters act with each other, namely the five and shifu. they clearly have a history and/or comradery with each other. shifu undoing the nerve damage tai lung did in a way specific to each of his students stands out to me in particular.

1 and 2 are masterpieces to me and i have my Things about the 3rd one but overall, a beautiful trilogy. i wish the 4th one didn't exist im killing it with my bare hands. vic hate movie? vic murder it. 5th rule of the streets.

[zonigiri]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐄

pairing: wano!zoro x reader

summary: unfortunately, you have a crush on zoro and zoro is in love with someone else and so, cue: pining (or so you think)

wc: 3.3k

cw: fluff + reader smokes + potentially inaccurate wano arc details because I haven’t caught up with the manga but i had to get this out sorry!!

a/n: i had to get this out of my head and i haven’t written anything in a while and so reqs/ideas/feedback on asks are welcome!

Clinking glasses, boisterous laughter and sounds of revelry filled the air. The kingdom of Wano was celebrating the end of Kaido’s reign and of the ill-famed prophecy coming to fruition after two long decades. As always, your crew was in the centre of the limelight. Luffy was predictably surrounded by piles of empty plates on one side and plates loaded with food on the other. Ussopp and Chopper were merry-making, Robin, Nami and Franky were engaged in conversation with Yamato-kun and Tsuru-san, Brook was playing with some children and you couldn’t see Sanji anywhere. Probably escorting some damsel in distress somewhere, was your best bet. And in a corner of the room, surrounded by Kin’e’mon, Duke Dogstorm and Cat Viper was Zoro – all of them going through barrels of sake like running water. With the burden of Kaido off everyone’s shoulders, everyone felt lighter, freer. So why was there a heaviness in your heart?

You excused yourself from the people around you and you went outside the room to take a deep breath. Maybe looking at the stars would remind you again how insignificant your troubles were. You chastised yourself for feeling the way you did when there were people that had lost their loved ones in the war and in the years preceding it, and once again you wished that matters of the heart could be reigned over by logic. You’d carried a thing of sake with you and there were strains of faint music coming in from somewhere and so you took unladylike sips while staring up at the stars in the sky, willing all other thoughts out of your brain.

“Oi, what are you doing out here?,” a familiar gruff voice rang out behind you. Jolted out of your thoughts and nearly choking on the sake, your eyes widened as you turned around to find Zoro. However, before you could get a word in, he spoke again, and your chest felt heavy again.

“Shitty-cook was looking for you.” Oh. It was probably too much to have expected Zoro to notice your absence and come find out in the middle of a banquet with free-flowing sake. You should’ve known better.

As if right on cue, another familiar voice filled with half-hearted anger and pure annoyance called out from a distance. “Oi Marimo, where the hell have you been? Hiyori-chan’s been looking for you all night, how dare you keep a lady waiting?” Your heart lurched again hearing Hiyori’s name and as Zoro turned around to face Sanji, Sanji spotted you. His tone changed immediately as he called out to you this time, sweetly and with no trace of earlier frustration, “Hellooo YN-chan, didn’t see you there! Are you enjoying the party? Was mosshead over here, bothering you?” 

“Haaa?!”

You let out a little laugh and a wave, with a smile you hoped was convincing enough, the same time as Zoro let out an accusatory curse.

“Hey, Sanji! I’m alright thanks, I was looking for you actually. Can I have a cigarette?”

“Of course, anything for you!” Sanji trips over himself trying to get out his pack of cigarettes and insists on lighting it for you. Having completed it, he turns around to see Zoro still standing there, staring at the two of you. “You stupid Marimo, didn’t I tell you Hiyori-chan’s waiting for you? Don’t you have any manners? I can’t believe she would pick you over me. She’s the most beautiful woman in the whole country, why would she even want a brute like you?! Don’t keep her waiting, you ill-mannered animal!” Sanji all but kicks Zoro, as if sending him flying to Hiyori’s feet might make up for however long she’s been waiting. For a second it looks like Zoro and Sanji are going to butt heads for the nth time but Zoro simply twists his face into a scowl, decides against it and walks off, grumbling under his breath. You turn back to rest your elbows on the parapet as you watch the smoke billow away into the night sky.

“So, Zoro and Hiyori, huh?,” you say with a little laugh.

Sanji lets out a scoff, takes a drag as if to compose himself, and then speaks, “Can you believe it?”

You don’t answer him and the two of you finish your cigarettes in silence afterwards. You offer Sanji your remaining sake and he graciously accepts. The two of you walk back to the banquet hall and instinctively your eyes scan the room for Zoro – he is nowhere to be found. And then, cautiously and against your best interests, you scan the room for Hiyori – she is nowhere to be found either. You can feel the bile rising in your chest as you scan the room a third time, this time for signs of either of them, but nothing. Putting two plus two together, you walk into the room with a heavier heart than you’d left. Walking over to the banquet table, you grab two bottles of sake and go join the group nearest to you. Chopper was putting chopsticks up his nose and the entire group was in splits – it was easy to pretend you were having fun too.

Back on the ship, you try your best to give Zoro as wide a berth as possible and hope it goes unnoticed. In your defense, it’s nothing obvious – it’s not like you’re walking the other way when you see him. You didn’t really want to either. Your heart might have been hurting but even then, you couldn’t deny how good he looked doing push-ups on the deck of the Sunny. Well into his 500’s, brazenly shirtless, and sweat glistening like molten gold on his brown skin in the sunlight. Had you not been bothered about giving him some space, you likely would’ve been staring at him shamelessly and Robin would’ve passed a cheeky comment about flies going into your open mouth. With a heavy sigh, and a slightly heavier heart, you go back to the book you were reading.

Days pass like this, with you toeing a thin line doing your best to keep your distance while trying to not make it obvious to anyone. This was just a passing crush and from past experience you’d learned that the best, and probably only way, to deal with it was to bide your time and let it fade away on its own. You only wondered how long it would take this time, because there was a limit to the pangs of pain you could tolerate.

You were sitting in the crow’s nest, knees to your chest and cradling the book you were reading when a movement drew your attention to the door. Zoro walked in with weights and set them down on the floor next to you.

“Should I- do you need the room?” you asked getting ready to get up, hoping simultaneously he’d say yes and no to appease the two splits your heart was in.

“Stay,” he grunted under his breath and he turned around and began setting up his equipment.

Long ago the two of you had come to an agreement to tolerate, and allow, only each other in this little sacred space the two of you had managed to create for yourselves on the Sunny. You reading in silence while Zoro worked out nearby was a near-natural occurrence for the two of you and naturally it often led to small talk, casual conversation and eventually playful banter. You’d spent nights up here on watch, drinking from the secret alcohol stash that Zoro and you had hidden away underneath the floorboards. The more you thought about all the memories you have of the two of you in the room where you were, the more the awkwardness of the present moment was stifling, closing in your heart and squeezing it in desperation. It was too far gone now, there was no escape. If you left now, it would make it even more obvious so all you could hope for was that Zoro hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. Although with the way you’d tried to leave earlier… Zoro was an idiot but unfortunately, the bastard could be observant when he wanted to. It was all you could do to stare into the book in your hands, boring your eyes into the words on the page and registering none of them.

Wordlessly you slid back into place, watching him curiously as he arranged the weights on the racks with his back to you. Thanks to your efforts, you had never been alone with him ever since you’d left Wano. You’d made it a point to always stay on the deck, with others in company and sight, to prevent yourself from the exact situation that you were in right now. You knew Zoro liked to train in the crow’s nest, but it was also your favourite place to read a book for similar reasons – it was quiet and far away from the chaos that the deck was almost always prone to.

Speaking of the devil, Zoro's voice cuts through the room, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Dunno, you’ve seemed a little out of it ever since we left Wano.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, we haven’t- you haven’t come up to the crow’s nest to read or anything,”

“Oh.” Your heart flutters a little at the fact that he noticed, but the rational part of your brain shuts it down. That’s what a friend does. He cares about you, just not the way you do about him. “I uh- I wanted to give you some space.”

It was Zoro’s turn to look confused. “Hah? Why?”

“I thought you might need some time to get over….” your voice dies down as the confusion in Zoro’s eyes increases. “Get over what?” The pure obliviousness almost makes you question yourself but for the sake of your sanity, you decide to press on. “Over Okiku-san?” you say softly. You see his eyes soften at the mention of her name.

“Oh. Yeah, I visited her grave with Kin’e’mon before we left.” You nodded understandingly. “If that’s what you’re worried about, I’m fine.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Miss her? I only knew her for a week.”

“Then… do you miss Hiyori-san?”

“Haaah?! How do you know about that? Did someone tell you? I bet it was Brook he has awful fucking timing. Just like that morning….” Zoro grumbled under his breath.

Your heart sinks a little as you recall he’s referring to the night that they slept together. You remember feeling devastated when Brook was telling you and Nami and you had to do everything in your power to act like it was scandalizing gossip and not like it felt like your heart was like a rock dropping rapidly into the sea. And it was happening again.

“No one told me, I just… guessed. I’m sorry,” you say softly, trying to stop tears from falling.

“What for?”

“It must suck to leave someone you love behind.” A pause and then you offered honestly, “I don’t know if I could do it.”

“Who did I leave behind?”

“Hiyori-san?”

You could see the gears in his brain turning as he tried to put the pieces together, “And who do I love?”

“Hiyori-san….?”

“Where the hell did you get that from?!”

“From you?!" Zoro continued to stare at you like you were spouting nonsense and so you added in your defense, "I thought she confessed to you on the night of the banquet!”

“She did,” but before you could say anything Zoro spoke again, "But I turned her down.”

“Oh. So it was Okiku-chan then?”

“Haaa?! Where are you getting any of this from?! You’ve been acting strangely ever since we left Wano and now you keep fuckin’ talking about me being with people I haven’t ever thought about that way. Do you think I’m like ero-cook over there, who falls in love with every single girl he meets? Is that really what you think of me?”

“No,” you whisper, tears threatening to spill any moment now. You’d never seen Zoro this annoyed, and never at you. Zoro turns around and starts putting his weights back, his back to you. “Forget it, I just wanted to see if you’re okay but I don’t know what’s wrong with you.” 

Your heart sank to your knees and all the arguments you'd been using to not confess to him suddenly fell away. All that was left was your need to explain to Zoro that you'd never meant to piss him off, only to try and know who he liked because you liked him. You spoke before you realized you were doing it, and before you knew it the words had already left your wobbly lips in a shaky whisper. 

“Zoro, I’m sorry. I like you.”

Hearing your trembling voice, Zoro turned around and walked over to stand a few steps away from you. You could feel his eyes on you and you’re sure he had questions, but you were also sure there were tears in your eyes; and so you were staring holes into the ground because the last thing you wanted now was for Zoro to see you cry. 

Zoro’s voice was softer when he spoke, “I like you too. Are you alright? You know you can talk to me if something’s bothering you, right?” He didn’t know what was going on and your sudden change in behaviour only confused him even further.

Incredulous, you looked up to face him, brimming tears now forgotten. You wondered if you should let it pass since your tortured confession was wildly misunderstood by the swordsman who really had moss for brains at times but now that you’d come out and said it, you figured you might as well get it over and done with. It had taken you months to get this far, and the part of you that was sick playing pretend just wanted to let it all go to flames and see where the pieces fell in the aftermath. You weren’t sure if you could handle another day of acting like Zoro was just a friend to you and another night of going to bed wondering what it would be like if you had the courage to tell him how you felt. 

“Zoro no, I like you," gathering courage you started tentatively with a shaky breath and hoped that this time the confession would go through. "I was, I was upset because Brook told us about Hiyori and you and then Luffy told us about Okiku-san and then she died the night of the fight and then- it was all a lot to process and- and I was jealous. And hurt. And I didn’t know how to handle it so I thought avoiding you would help because I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me.”

Your voice went back to a wobbly whisper by the end, and so you missed the way Zoro was looking at you. You’d looked up briefly at some point during your long-winded defense but you'd gone back to the comfort of staring at the ground, talking about this was hard enough. Was it because you'd seen the way Zoro's eyes had widened? Possibly, but you were shaking with nervousness and there was only so much you could admit to on a day when all you were planning to do was finish your book, really. Hearing you talk, his expression had gone through shock, mild distaste at hearing you thought he liked Okiku which immediately changed to a smirk as soon as he heard you say you were jealous. Right now, there was only half a smirk on his face because he was fighting a smile that was threatening to show up. 

“Stupid woman, why didn’t you tell me?”

“What?” 

“That you liked me." Your head shot up at that and all you could do was stare wordlessly at him as he continued, each next word causing another heartbeat to miss, leaving you with an anxiousness you felt bubbling in the depths of your chest. "Could’ve avoided all these tears if you’d told me earlier. ‘Cause I like you too.”

Your eyes widened hearing him and all of a sudden your brain went blank. All the questions you had for him disappeared and all you could do was look at Zoro wordlessly as he continued to speak. 

“I turned Hiyori down because I told her I like someone else, have liked, for a long time now. It’s you, dummy. I like you. Now, will you stop crying? You’re kinda ruining the moment here.”

He gently flicked your forehead and you smacked his arm out of reflex with an offended squawk. A grin broke out on Zoro’s face, “There we go, that’s my girl. Glad to have you back, princess.”

A watery smile made its way onto your face but you were still trying to process what you'd just heard. 

“You turned down Hiyori-san… for me? She’s the oiran," your voice faltered as you re-realized the reality. 

“Yeah, so?"

"She's the most beautiful girl in all of Wano."

"Yeah well, I think you're prettier." Your eyes widened at his words, tears long halted, as you looked up at him in awe. Like you couldn’t believe the moment you're in is real. Zoro's hands cup your face, his face inches away from yours, as he asks under his breath, "Can I- can I kiss you?" 

You nod as if in a daze and you feel his lips on yours immediately afterwards, hungry and hot. His other hand grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him in a single jerk and then he digs his fingers into the skin of your waist, holding you so tight it would've hurt had you been focusing on that instead of drinking his gasps and little groans in. Breaking away from the kiss and looking into Zoro's eyes, you saw a searing look in there that would've buckled your knees had he not been holding you. Tiptoeing, you pressed a shorter, chaste kiss onto his lips and hoped Zoro could feel what you were trying to say: thank you, thank you. 

Pulling away, you make yourself comfortable in Zoro's hold, looping your arms around his neck and when you speak there's a twinkle in your eyes, "So… you had a crush on me, huh? That's embarrassing."

"Oi! You said you liked me first!"

You throw your head back and laugh, because yeah he's got you there but you've got him now so you can't be a sore loser. Not today, anyway. 

BONUS:

It's late at night and you're lying next to Zoro on the deck, staring up at the sky. The remainder of the day was spent skirting around each other, sharing furtive glances and shy smiles when others weren't looking. Telling others hadn't come up yet but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been thinking about what this meant for the both of you. With that thought still lingering, you piped up. 

"Soo, does this mean we're dating?"

"Nope."

"What?! Why not?" you cried out in indignation and propped yourself up on your elbows to turn to him, offense painted all over your face. 

"You still have to ask me out," Zoro pointed out.

"I confessed to you!"  

"Exactly, that's why you have to ask me out."

"You-" The logic didn't make any sense but you of all people knew it was futile to argue with Zoro when he'd made up his mind. So you lay back down with a sigh, "Fine. Fine. Roronoa Zoro, will you be my boyfriend?" 

You turn to him after you finish your question, staring into his eyes with only a slight glare, loving annoyance pricking your tone but you both know it's harmless. Zoro matches your stare with his own and doesn't speak but leans in closer towards you to close the gap with a kiss he hopes answers your question: a resounding yes. But just in case you hadn't received the message, he mumbles it softly against your lips, "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to say yes." 

[cosmal]

𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 — 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

note — this is for @sparklingsin spookinktober!! it was queued to be posted on halloween but tumblr deleted it!! so I had to rewrite it :((( so I'm sorry that this is so late and so terrible!! I tried my best to rewrite it like it was fr. i do genuinely hate this now, i’m sorry.

summary — eddie comes back after a week and sees you in your angel costume. he has to fuck you right then and there.

warnings/tags — fem!afab!reader, she/her pronouns, smut, mdni, piv, fingering, needy!reader

wc — 1.8k

“Steve, have you seen Eddie yet?” You stand on your tiptoes to get closer to his face, leaning over the breakfast bar that separates the two of you. 

Steve probably yells too eagerly. The music is loud, but you’re not exactly far away, “Y/N like I said fifteen minutes ago, he’ll be here at 9 o’clock.” 

“What’s the time?” You laugh. Winding Steve up is always fun. 

Steve sighs like he’s annoyed. You know he’s really not, “8:45.” 

“Awesome. I’m gonna go sit on the couch until he gets here.” You tell him before spinning on your heels. The feathers of your angel wings tickle his face as you turn and Steve wrinkles his nose. 

“I’m sure you will, Y/N!” he calls before you turn the corner. 

And you do exactly that. You’ve waited for Eddie to get back all week, what’s fifteen more minutes? By the time Eddie arrives, the wiry angel wings on your back have grown a little itchy. You’d take them off if you weren’t excited to show Eddie your costume. 

Picking at a loose thread on your frilly, white skirt, you don’t even notice the pair of knees in ripped, black denim, hovering over your own. Eddie leans forward to nudge your leg with his and you startle. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Eddie does that signature smile of his, it almost fries your brain and you forget to react. 

“Oh my god, Eds!” It’s a blur of feathers when you leap from the small couch. Pushing your arms over his shoulders and leaning your whole weight into him. He almost topples when he wraps his own arms around your back. “Eddie,” 

Eddie’s mouth finds its home in the juncture of your neck like it always does, breathing in your lost scene and pressing his lips to your skin. “Y/N.”

He pulls away, but not before you give him one last squeeze, holding you out at arm's length. “God, baby. You look so fucking hot,” he groans. 

You turn your hips until your skirt swishes, “You think?” 

Eddie reaches around to fiddle with one of the feathers, smoothing it out between his thumb and pointer. “Shit, yeah.”

“Where’s your costume?” you ask, poking him in the chest until he rocks on the balls of his feet. Heavy boots thump along with the bass of the music. 

“I’m in it,” he laughs. 

“Yeah?” 

Eddie swishes like you did but the only thing that moves is his leather jacket that stiffly flaps around his waist, “Yeah. Your boyfriend.”

You roll your eyes like you’re actually not amused by his answer, “You wear that every day.” 

“Well, you haven’t seen me in it for an entire week.” He leans in to peck your cheek. Twice for good measure. You grasp his jacket in firm hands and hold him close.

You hum, “Yeah. Missed you.” 

Eddie leans in again to snake his arms around to give your ass a squeeze, bunching your skirt in his hands. You’ve forgotten where you are for a moment when he says, “Wanna show me how much you missed me?” 

Pretending to act like you don’t want Eddie more than anything at this moment would be harder than telling him exactly what you want — so you don’t. You run a hand down his chest, over the cotton of his shirt, feeling the bumps and divots tentatively until your reach his waist. Hooking a finger around a belt loop to tug him closer. 

“I think I do.” you smile. 

Eddie groans, “Shit,” 

You can’t even pretend to be surprised at how quickly it takes Eddie to drag you to the nearest bathroom. His insatiable need has you giggling the entire way there. Pushing through strangers and ignoring the pointed look Robin shoots you from the bottom of the stairs.

Once you’re inside, Eddie fumbles with the lock on the door while you tug at his free arm, “C’mon, Eds,” you whine.

Eddie cheers when he gets the door to lock, turning to lift you up and onto the basin. The ceramics are cold where it touches the bare skin on your legs and you gasp. Eddie is quick to catch any noise with his mouth when he leans in to kiss you.

“Fuck,” kiss, “angel,” kiss, “you look so hot.”

Your laughter peels from within you and you’re huffing into his mouth, “I thought I was the one who was supposed to be showing you how much I missed you.”

He pulls away to lift your skirt up so it pools around your waist, tugging your panties down until they stretch over your knees, “Just sit there looking all pretty, that’s enough for me, baby.”

Eddie lets you do as you please, placing a firm grip to stable yourself on his shoulders when he traces the tip of his finger up your slit. Grazing down to your entrance to gather the slick that’s already begun to pool on the counter.

“So messy,” he coos, exploring with his finger to push through your pudgy folds, “Missed this pussy, angel.” 

You lean forward to press the top of your head into his shoulder, wrapping a hand around his bicep. When he finally slips a finger inside you, you let out the tiniest gasp and your hand tightens in its grip until the leather of his jacket squeaks. 

You angle your head up to leave a line of lazy kisses along his neck. Your hot breath and tiny gasps are a whisper against Eddie’s skin. He pushes a second finger in, now middle and marriage, and you hiccup against his skin. Eddie pushes in further, determined to get you to make more pretty noises that get him all worked up. 

“Eds,” you pant uselessly. More tiny gasps. 

“Y/N,” he almost mocks, exploring deeper inside your weeping hole. Slick traces down his palm and threatens to dirty his sleeve. If Eddie has ever cared about that, he’s never shown it. 

You rock your hips against the bench to try and get closer to his hand, his palm pushing into your clit. The stickiness of his thumb and pinky thudding against your skin echo in the tiny bathroom. 

Eddie can sense your neediness, “Slow down, baby.” 

You grip the hair around the base of his neck which only causes him to groan out. “Need,” you pant. 

“What d‘you need, hmm?” Eddie asks, pulling back to check you over. Using his free hand to brush the hair from your eyes. You blink at him slowly. 

“Fuck me, Eddie. Please.” Your eyes are terribly pleading and Eddie stills, deep-seated inside you. “Missed you- need you, Eds.” 

Eddie can see you working yourself up and kisses you on the highest part of your cheek. Pulling his hand from you he says, “Yeah? Need my cock?” 

“Please.” 

“You’re so, very polite,” he coos.

There’s a metal zzz of his zipper unravelling and the shushing of his jeans being pushed down just below his ass, before he’s tugging at his cock with familiarity. A familiarity that has your stomach aching. 

Eddie wraps his wet hand around the fat of your thigh to tug you closer to the edge of the basin and you yelp, bracing yourself on his chest. 

Once you’re close enough, the ruddy tip of his cock presses into your clit and you jolt, head lulling into the juncture of his neck. Eddie wraps his arms around your back and holds you close, dotting kisses over your clavicle. His teeth scrape and nip playfully until goosebumps raise your skin. 

“Ready?” he asks as he runs his cock down your slit to line up with your entrance. 

“Uh-“ you stutter, wrapping your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together, “Uh-huh.” 

Eddie sinks in and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. “That’s it,” he groans, breath trembling, “Fuck.”

You squeeze him closer like it’s possible and gasp when the air is forced from your lungs at the proximity. Your hands tremble around stiff leather and your hips ache when he rocks in to the hilt. Filling you completely. 

“Ah — Eddie,” you gasp, harder when he’s rocking in stronger. 

Eddie starts to move, slow and tentatively, rolling his hips into your wet heat. Spreading your legs further apart and your underwear slips down onto the floor.

“Please,” you plead, “harder.” You dig your knees into his side. 

Eddie grips your thigh to hold it up and closer to him and when he feels as if he’s not hitting the right angle, he hooks his arms under both of your legs to lift you from the counter. 

Gasping, you sink down onto him, keeping your arms and ankles hooked around his body. 

Eddie moves to grasp at your ass, squeezing fat between his fingers to keep you upright. Lifting you up and you help him settle back down until you find a perfect rhythm. 

“So,” Eddie grunts, hard to be heard over the sounds of skin slapping and your pitched-up moans. You’re also lucky the music outside is loud enough to muffle anything. “so wet, sweetheart.” 

You hum what sounds like an uh-huh, trying your best to meet his movements. Eddie’s grip is tight and it stings. Pain turns to pleasure when he starts to hit the spongy spot deep inside you. 

Eddie’s doing his best to fuck you onto him. Especially when your pelvis burns and your arms ache, going limp against his frame. 

His grunts mix in with your Ah ah ah’s, Eddie has no free hands to smother your noises so he plants his lips to yours, catching any sounds. 

“Eddie,” you say against his lips, hot and wet, “M’gonna…” 

“Cum f’me, baby,” he says, speeding up. 

When he’s repeatedly hitting your sweet spot at the perfect rhythm, the coil in your core snaps, bleeding through your abdomen until you’re clamping around Eddie—tensing up in his hold. 

Weak and panty, Eddie throws you back down to the basin, hips stuttering inside you. 

“Fuck, where can I?” 

“Inside,” you say. No, beg. 

“You sure?” he groans. 

You nod your head, clamping your twitching walls around him and that’s all it takes. Dragging, now slowly through your gummy heat, his own cum sobbing from your hole when he’s finished. 

He’s pulling out, slowly when he watches your face crumple, keeping your legs hooked around his sides. Placing a wet kiss against your damp hairline, he says, “That was amazing- You’re amazing.” 

“I know,” you grin, resting your legs down until your knees click. 

“Mmm,” he kisses you again, “M’never leaving for that long, ever again.” 

“Never,” you agree. 

There’s a beat, that’s not very silent, filled with the party that’s still thrumming. Loud chants and chatter fill the bathroom from the crack under the door. 

“We should really go home,” he says. 

“I think so,” you hum, “I think I heard about ten people knocking on the door.”

“Shit,” Eddie snorts. 

“Shit.”

[indigovigilance]

This has been eating at my brain for 5 minutes, but why does aziraphale wear reading glasses sometimes. Is it for aesthetic? Is it their eyesight? Help

Hi @electronicturtlepaper, thanks for the ask! I gave this some thought, and I propose four reasons that Aziraphale wears reading glasses:

Aziraphale imagines himself having a 50-year old human body

He likes doing things the human way

They are integral to his enjoyment of art

He uses them to communicate with Crowley

Expanded arguments and evidence, as always, below the cut:

Aziraphale likes to imagine that he is a 50-year old human.

I think there's a little bit of a tendency to think of the ineffables as being superhuman. They are, but not the way Superman or Wonderwoman are. We get the best illustration of this in S1E6 when Crowley is driving through the M-25 inferno:

Crowley has something no other demons have, an imagination. Right now, he's imagining that he is just fine, and that a ton of burning metal, rubber and leather is a fully functioning car.

We know from this Season 1 scene that Crowley's imagination manifests reality; in this particular instance, it is to defy the laws of physics, to keep his body from discorporating and his car from falling apart.

Even though the way it's being used feels "super," we can see how the mechanic of "imagination manifests reality" could be used in the exact opposite way by someone who likes to think of themselves as a homely, affable pillar of the community that has owned the bookshop on the corner for as long as anyone can remember. We see other ways this manifests, like not being able to keep up with Gabriel while jogging:

He could think of himself as a battle-ready soldier, but he doesn't. He thinks of himself as someone who likes culture, good food, and fine clothes; cardio doesn't really play into that, so his corporeal form manifests accordingly. By the same token, he's an avid reader, and as far as his Whickber Street neighbors are concerned, has spent all day, every day reading books for the past no-one-knows-how-long; how would he not need reading glasses?

By sheer power of imagination, Aziraphale has manifested himself into needing corrected vision.

Aziraphale Likes Doing Things the Human Way

Keep in mind that this is the angel who absolutely did not fool Nefertiti with a single caraway seed and three cowrie shells, but he sure did put his whole entire soul into learning prestidigitation from the best human magicians of their day, and took French lessons so that he could ask his aunt's gardener for a pen.

Wearing reading glasses to read is part and parcel to a 50-year-old man running a bookshop. Miracling himself some Lasik eye surgery would be cheating, just like using a miracle to make the farthing vanish in a sleight of hand trick. In order to do something the human way, all the normal human handicaps must apply, including myopia.

Aziraphale's Enjoyment of Art is Enhanced by Wearing Glasses

I also think that Aziraphale considers wearing eyeglasses to be an integral part of the human experience of the joy of literature; reading a novel without peering at the page through silica lenses framed by metal wire would be like eating sushi without dipping it in soy sauce. The experience would be incomplete.

But, then again, look at this dork:

He's wearing his glasses to listen to music. Clearly this isn't necessary or even helpful (but as someone who has taken off their glasses so they can listen better to somebody, I can assure you it's very human). So this tells us that Aziraphale's glasses are, among other things, his "I'm enjoying art right now" accessory.

This is further reinforced in the following beat, when he's opened the door, and he's not wearing his glasses anymore:

So sometime between turning off the gramophone and opening the door for Gabriel, he took off his glasses to signal that he has quit shastakovich.exe and is returning to "normal adult responsibilities" mode.

Aziraphale Uses His Glasses To Communicate

...and we know exactly who he learned this from: @goodomensgifs credited for this wonderful gifset, hereafter incorporated by reference because my computer is so mad at me rn and can't handle loading gifs.

Crowley uses his glasses to communicate his emotions a lot. He uses them to show vulnerability. He uses them to show contentment. He uses them to threaten. He uses them to show that he is wounded and defensive. He uses them to demonstrate that he is or is not willing to talk. Aziraphale has learned from the best.

The first time we see Aziraphale leverage his lenses this way in Season 2 is when Crowley returns to the shop after their fight about Gabriel. When he's alone, waiting for Crowley to return, Aziraphale isn't wearing his glasses:

but quickly puts them on when Crowley walks in the door:

Quite a few analysts have published metas on equivocation (@cobragardens and @ao3cassandraic, maybe we should start using an #equivocation tag? Because this is becoming a recurring topic), which I incorporate here by reference. Crowley and Aziraphale have had to learn to communicate without saying a lot of things out loud, and glasses are playing a role in that.

By putting on his glasses, Aziraphale has just put up a big "I'm feeling hurt and defensive" sign; at the same time, Crowley takes his glasses off, to signal that he's ready to talk. Aziraphale peers through his glasses while he's pretending to ignore Crowley, reinforcing that his glasses are assisting him in demonstrating his umbrage.

Aziraphale finally takes his glasses off to tell Crowley that his "you were right" wasn't a good enough apology:

At this point in the conversation, the angel is allowing himself to be more vulnerable and show just how upset he is.

This evidence is taken from limited samples, but it fits with the general dynamic of the characters observed elsewhere.

Thanks for the great prompt, I never would have done this exploration otherwise but it was very rewarding.

Good Omentober!

~~~~~~

If you liked this, you may like:

Clothes + Equivocation = Romance by @cobragardens

The Colors of Crowley by @cobragardens

The Golden Lion by @cobragardens

Angel Pinky Rings by yours truly, @indigovigilance

...and any fan is welcome to drop an analysis request in my askbox!

[live-love-be-unique]

But It’s Home To Me

Summary: Eddie was meant to be the next metal god but things didn’t work out and he ended up a mechanic stuck in Hawkins, but with you by his side, that might not be such a bad thing.

This was inspired by a line from one of my favourite songs, Tomorrow by Shakey Graves, that just screamed Older Eddie to me:

Well, you love this heart and this six string, girl, oh

But they've been outta tune yeah for some time.

Parings: Older Eddie Munson x f reader

Warnings: none.

The dull ache that had started in his left shoulder as he drank his morning coffee had steadily traveled its way down into his lower back throughout the day and then, by the time he headed home it had reached his knees. I’m not old enough to have shitty knees, he thought, running a hand over his tired eyes, I’m only in my thirties.

As he drove home he remembers Wayne working the same long hours at the same garage, returning every night to the same trailer park the same ache in his bones and the bitterness returned as it always seemed to do lately, it was a sharp buzzing sound that filled his brain with a familiar doubt.

Eddie reached over and turned the radio up as Metallica filled the cabin of his old van, he could feel his grease covered fingers tapping out the familiar guitar chords. He still played of course as a way to keep connected to his dreams, and to make a little extra money on the side. Tutoring some of the kids in Hawkins was fun but not as fun as being on stage.

Corroded Coffin, his old band had traveled to Chicago to submit their demo tapes to a big music exec, who took their tapes and gave their music to another band without even giving them a chance. The band had broken up a few years later, he still kept in touch with the guys of course, getting together for regular jam sessions, they all had families of their own so those jam sessions were few and far between.

We could have been up there with the greats, the bitter thought invading his brain as the final notes of Enter Sandman die out. I should have put this shithole town in my rear view mirror years ago and never looked back.

He hadn’t though, he needed the money so Wayne had pulled some strings and gotten him some shifts at the garage and he never left. His shoulders felt heavy and the buzzing in his brain got louder as he pulled into the trailer park. Can’t even afford a proper house.

He’d met you on his first day, the world's prettiest receptionist he’d thought, he couldn’t even get the words out when you smiled at him at the end of his first day and asked how everything had gone.

He was smitten, so he went to Steve the next day for advice about how to ask you on a date. He tried to be smooth, he had a whole speech planned out, but when he saw you, he’d shyly stumbled out the words “would you want the movies…with me?” He cringes to this day at the memory. But you just smiled and accepted and that Friday night you were sharing popcorn as you watched Michael Myers disembowel teenagers, and later, when he dropped you off at your house he kissed you and asked you to be his.

You were his for two years, you were his own personal sunshine, he’d pick you up every morning and drive you home every night just to spend more time with you, you were never apart. Things were perfect, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty, like he was holding you back from something or someone better, someone like you deserved so much more than what he could offer, so he did what his father had done, he ran.

Fuck, Eddie thought, I was a fucking idiot, letting the best thing that ever happened to me slip through my fingers. He pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition, he slumped down and leaned his head against the steering wheel, hands still tightly gripping the wheel.

His friends had told him that he was an idiot, he’d agreed of course, told him to get you back and somehow after six long months you had cautiously let him into your life again under the condition that he wouldn’t break your heart again. That was four years ago.

He looked up and glanced towards the kitchen window of his trailer and there you were, cooking dinner and swaying to some music. A soft smile graced his worn out features as he watched you sway along to the music playing.

Dropping his bag by the door as he entered your small trailer, chuckling a little at the familiar strains of your current favourite song playing softly. Eddie made his way to the kitchen. He watched you for a while as you cut up vegetables for dinner, you were wearing that little sundress he loved so much, god, he thought, you’re so gorgeous, he moved forward, wrapping his arms around your waist, he smiled as you jumped in surprise. Eddie pulled you tighter against his chest as his head dropped down to rest in the crook of your neck.

“Missed you baby” Eddie mumbled against your skin. He ran his hands over your swollen belly, your son would be here in a few short months.

You ran your nails along his arms eliciting goose bumps, the shine from the small diamond on your left hand catching his eye. He’d felt bad about not being able to afford anything more, but you didn’t care about that, he remembered fondly that you had squealed with joy when he proposed. You never complained about not having more, you always said you were happy with your life, with him.

Eddie stayed like that while you cooked, needing to feel your comfort. Whatever shitty things happened at work always evaporated whenever you were around.

“Daddy!” A tiny voice came from behind the two of you as your daughter padded into the kitchen in her little Snow White princess dress. Eddie turned and scooped up the tiny little girl with the same unruly dark curls and dark eyes as his.

“Hi pumpkin” he smiled as he shifted the little girl in his arms, holding her on his hip as she wrapped her tiny, chubby arms around his neck.

“I made you a picture” your little girl, Evie, proudly informed him, showing him the finger painting she’d made clutched in her tiny hands.

“You did?” Eddie asked, taking the paper and examining the drawing “I love it pumpkin!” he said, putting it on the fridge.

“Steve called, wants to have us over for a barbecue this Saturday” you mention, placing dinner on the small table. “I was thinking of making potato salad”.

Eddie places his daughter in her high chair and takes a plate from you, “it would be good to see everyone again”

He smiles as he watches you feeding your daughter, the feelings of comfort and warmth of his little family slowly replacing the bitterness he felt earlier.

“What?” You smile up at him and his heart skips a beat, the same as it did the first day you met.

“Nothing” he smiles, maybe not being a rock star isn’t so bad. It’s not much, but it’s home to me.

[swordheld]

hello! do u have any new music recommendations?

of course!!! going to throw some general pop/indie/rock/instrumental all over vibes at you? these are some of the ones that i've been having on repeat a lot lately because they bring something bright and fun into my days - hope you enjoy them !! 💛

if i'm honest (trousdale) – oh the absolute vibes of this one. the harmonies. the beat. the slow downs and build ups? that ending? it's like easy, slow, growing ease and joy. that point 3/4 of the ways through the song, that building of things? the payoff? those background horns? the drums? i cannot sit through it without some kind of air guitar / drums / chair dance type beat. it's too good that you cannot help it, it just goes so hard.

close one (fizz) – i have been writing so much love poetry to this song. it is soft and slow and serene like light, all golden hour, the soft golden hues of almost, of here, like this, with me? that little 'fuck it' before the chorus is so fun. this group is made of insanely popular individuals (dodie/orla gartland/greta isaac/martin luke brown???) and together .... they are so powerful. cannot wait to see what they create next !!

run (maisie peters) – there is such a fun vibe to this song. that line of the chorus, that 'i've been lied to / i've been cut and deleted / i've heard some things i will leave unrepeated' is sooooo good, that rhyme scheme that syllable count balance? it immediately went onto my writing playlist w/ that fun beat, that synth, that catchy repetition? the whole album this comes off of is so very good too, esp. 'the band and i'? i really enjoy her sound!!

like a brother (hey, nothing) – this song feels like a lullaby, in the way of being swung in a hammock? all late summer, early winter winds? but there is such a lyricism that gets stuck in my brain, the whole layout of the chorus and is just so soft. i feel so many things. another easy one for the poetry playlist.

margo (sally boy) – oh the orchestral, string opening? the easy flow of it, instrumental and light, before hitting that small bit of silence before the guitar and lyrics come in? and then the absolute hit that is the beat of the chorus hitting? obsessed. phenomenal. i love the balance of gentle, light instruments and the slow instruction of the drumbeat, it feels like a whole story that you can experience, the flow of it!

eightball girl (maddie zahm) – i can leave this song for a few days and then out of nowhere it'll just be in my head again, the vibes of it, that beat of the chorus? the layered voice effects? sometimes songs have this balance to them that my brain just sucks up like a sponge and this is one of them. soooo good. i'll be in the supermarket and my brain will just go eightball girllll, tell me how you feel about meeee and it's perfect.

snow angel (reneé rapp) – this was one of the first ones i found on my daylist that was just like, how did i go so long without you. how did i not know about you. and since then it's been a daily listen. the slow, gentle breeze of that beginning? there is such a rising and falling to this song, like seasons, like the breeze? all tide, all here and there and back again, all resilience and ferocity, softness and violence? that electric guitar and the piano and the feedback just makes me want to just. aaaaaaa. this whole album is just banger after banger too!!

grace (henrik) – it's so fun!!! it brings me so much joy and energy, the easy breezy pop vibes, it's so hopeful and gentle and loving. i have it set as my alarm rn because i really do think it'll last through the sisyphean task of getting me out of bed in the mornings, it just feels like sunlight.

[howthebestwaslost-blog]

“Shall we go and see Charlie Chaplin? Shall we? Charlie Chaplin? Charlie Chester. Charlie Brown. No, he's fiction. Friction, fiction, fixing, mixing, Rickston, Brixton.”

(Edit downstairs)

Tl;dr theory: Rogue is fictional.

I’m sure this has been analysed to death already and I’m being slow again (not really keeping up with theories), but I couldn’t sleep last night and I had the thought stuck in my brain [warning: some meandering]

The whole episode felt like comfort food freshly flown in from the RTD1 era, with silly monsters, a good amount of running and an emotional punch, but for that reason also it felt to me a bit disconnected from the rest of the season (not in a bad way tho). There was also no Susan Twist apart from the portrait, so the season arc was pretty much invisible, too.

Except.

Except I think it could have been very much within the bigger arc that is still on. I think it’s already part of the next season arc. I’m going with the Mrs. Flood is the God of Storytelling theory, and she is fictionalising the Doctor’s whole life. That’s obviously where the fourth wall breaks come from (only she and Maestro did it iirc, so they must be on the same level, and the Doctor of course, but he’s the Main Character). That’s where the weird musical ending came in and the magical cross-walk. Now we have an episode simply called ‘Rogue’, introducing the Doctor’s new love interest [hand grabbing, “run”, the assembled hordes of- no wait] who gets sucked into another dimension saving the world - I get distracted - and his name is so on the nose. It’s like they got stuck finding a name for the character, proceeded to write the whole thing with this as a placeholder and then simply decided to keep it. There was enough lampshading with the dice to suggest a plausible origin, but come on. He is the rogue, he’s got his cool cluttered ship full of second hand tech, a semi-legal, morally dubious profession, he’s silent, he’s on his own, he’s got an awesome coat and a tragic backstory. He’s straight out of a story. He’s not an individual character, he’s a type (which is not to say that Jonathan Groff did not give him all the personality and realness and made him much more than just that, and I love him). Even the place, Pemberton (Pemberley/Bridgerton, obviously), is shamelessly fictional [edit: ok it’s not the place but the Duchess is at least Duchess of it, so it technically still works I think - see comments // also with ‘fictional’ I mean mashed up from two popular fictional names, I did not get out what I was trying to say at all - did I mention my lack of sleep]. But what if all this is part of a bigger design? I thought it was meant to be a cheeky, guilty pleasure kind of thing, a wink to the audience, saying “we know… but you love it too, don’t you”. But while we were all going crazy over whether or not Rogue is coming back, the Doctor wearing the ring and turning it on his finger in his closing scene of the finale had long been filmed. I think the episode is tied to the greater arc exactly by being so blatantly stacked with tropes. The Doctor meets a tall handsome stranger, perfectly suited for him. He inevitably loses him, but with an irresistible sequel hook. I think someone inside the show’s universe wrote this story just for him. And that’s why I’m sure Rogue will be back with a surprise.

Does that mean he’s another unsuspecting trap? Is he a real person literally doomed by the plot or an invention woven into reality? Is someone sending the Doctor through the drama and the emotions and the plot twists for their entertainment?

How much fan fiction did Rogue inspire in the first 24 hours?

*Edit

Holy shit I just realised

His new boss is really big on PAPERWORK 👀 📚