#it's more like;;; as writers we don't want to spell out things

[iwaasfairy]

Hello fairy bby💕 I'm an indian, born and brought up in my homeland india, my english is not that good bc it is not my first language and I've been insulted for my english reading comprehension three times by native english speaker on tumblr as well on discord lol.😂😭

Also I'm studying medicine so I really don't have too much time to study things other than my medicine books.

As a writer yourself, could you pleasee give me some tip to improve my reading comprehension?

I love you💕

this took me wayyy too long to answer iM sorry my love! but honestly, i don't think it's a native vs not-native speaker thing? also people who insult you for that on the regular??? hUH are those people good lMAOOO that's so rude ໒꒰ ♡◞ ˕ ก ꒱১

but when people say 'no reading comprehension', especially from a writer pov, it's usually that there's things implied that maybe you miss, right? so like, if someone writes a fic about manipulation, usually that is more implied than actually said straight out; maybe thats what they mean? you can try reading between the lines, and make your own judgements?

bc i hope?? people weren't just being assholes to say that to you? usually as writers, we write our characters in a very specific way yk, so if a character does something in a fic that doesn't seem,,, natural to do, the writer wrote it that way for a reason. thinking about why a character is acting that way, even briefly, can really help with your reading comprehension i think

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

The I feel like she sees me line being said to Eddie who is the person that truly sees Buck for all that he is. Are we supposed to take this line at face value which would indicate piss poor writing because they needed to rush to a horrible ending or do we take it as Buck being an unreliable narrator? What was the audience supposed to interpret from Buck saying that, were we truly supposed to believe him or we supposed to be pissed at Buck for saying this to the one person that truly sees Buck?

Good morning to me, I guess.

I'm assuming you haven't really seen people's reactions in the fandom on tumblr because I feel like I saw this said in quite a few posts going around, but you are absolutely not supposed to take this line at face value. I'm surprised that people think you should. 9-1-1 has from the beginning had a habit of turning friendships into romantic relationships (Bathena and Madney) and taking their time with these things rather than having an instalove situation. Even Karen and Hen, who meet when they're set up on a date together, don't instantly fall in love. I do not think they would set Eddie or Buck up for an endgame relationship with a woman by having them date that woman immediately, even if they didn't plan to make Buddie canon.

Buck is clearly struggling post-death. He's lost and once again looking for the answer from a romantic partner. He did a lot of growth in regards to his family relationships this season but not his romantic ones. Remember, his couch ended up destroyed and he asked his latest girlfriend to pick the new one out for him. Again. He's still not picking his own damn couch. After being unable to sleep on the one his mom gave him but passed out instantly on Eddie's where he ran to feel safe.

If people think this is all, somehow, an accident or the writers are doing this without knowing what they're doing, then I can't help you. Do you also think the symbolism I put into my fanfics are a total accident? Do you guys think I picked the name of the poem "Fuchsia Emerald Alizarin Rose" just because the colors are fun and they accidentally spell out F.E.A.R. or do you think maybe I did that absolutely 100% on purpose and was waiting for someone to realize?

Buck saying that to Eddie is 100% supposed to make the audience raise their eyebrows. Especially when we see Eddie's reaction. He's confused and he's hurt and he's annoyed. Eddie then spends his next few lines showing Buck (and us) that he sees Buck. Buck misses it, it goes right over his head, but the audience is shown that Buck is wrong and Eddie sees him.

I think there was a lot of internal stuff going on behind the scenes way high up the ladder that meant Buddie didn't happen this season. No, I don't mean that in a tinhatting way, I just mean that they knew Fox wouldn't renew them, they didn't know if they'd get picked up somewhere else, Fox hasn't promoted or cared about this show the way it has its other shows in a while, and I think it's pretty clear there was shuffling and changes going on with 6B. So I think things had to be put off. Similar to the pandemic, where I genuinely wonder what kind of season four we would've gotten if we'd had the full 18 episodes and hadn't had to work around Covid. I think that when we know there was a big shift going on behind the scenes, we need to have some grace and patience in how that will effect the story that's told on screen.

But I think that this default to "everything good we see on our screens is an accident and the writers are making shitty choices" is a horrible bad faith argument, and it's exhausting. Aren't you exhausted? I'm exhausted. Fandom shouldn't treat the writing and production team like their enemies any more than the writing and production team should treat the fans like their enemies in some kind of war they have to win (looking at you, GoT showrunners).

We are supposed to be annoyed that Buck is missing the point. We are supposed to see Buck's yearning to be a husband and a father, and how he's missing what's right in front of him. We are supposed to put two and two together and see that Eddie was hurt by Buck's words, that Eddie sees Buck, that Eddie is Buck's safe place, and that Eddie in that moment decided he might not have a chance with Buck and needs to move on, because previously we saw Eddie admit he wants romance again but he doesn't want to go out on dates, we saw his aunt say she met her husband through work, we saw him say 'we have time' and then we saw him immediately after Buck tells him about this new girl who "sees him" flee to visit his mother and then immediately actually try dating. On a meta level this is also because Eddie needs confidence in himself as a romantic partner and needs some more experience under his belt before he's ready to take the plunge with Buck, but in Eddie's mind, I think it's pretty clear he feels Buck will never want him back and he's trying to find the love he wants somewhere else, even if his heart is still Buck's.

So that's what I think. I think it's not explicitly spelled out for a few reasons, but frankly if one of them was a woman we wouldn't need it explicitly spelled out and personally I kinda like that it's not. Something that annoys me with M/F pairings is the constant "we all know you two like each other" talks from third parties that half the time aren't about the characters but are about the audience, to either tell the audience SEE THEY LIKE EACH OTHER THAT'S WHAT THIS IS ABOUT or to give the audience some fanservice while the characters aren't ready to get together. I don't need to be pandered to that way, thank you, so I'm a fan of the slightly more subtle approach that I, personally, see going on with Buddie.

If you or anyone else disagrees with me and feels it was just "piss poor writing" then that's entirely your right. I'd just appreciate it if people who feel that way would stop watching the show, and stop putting their complaints into the inboxes of people who clearly do enjoy the show.

TL;DR - You answered your own question, Buck is an unreliable narrator (and always has been) and we are supposed to be frustrated he said this to Eddie who has proven time and again (and does so in that very scene) that he sees Buck.

[lilithandherharlots]

Too shy to tell you

miguel o’hara x fem!reader

Miguel hides your heals in hopes of making you forget you ever owned a pair...he confesses about his theft during a hot and heavy night of sex.

Warnings: This might be interpreted as possessive or an unhealthy bond. Though its supposed to be just a very shy and respectful Miguel who let's loose during sex.:]

Authors note: I am not a writer!! This is my first time righting fanfic.. like.. ever!!! So don't attack me. Though honest, constructive criticism is something that I would love to hear. Sorry if there are spelling mistakes. Also, I don't know how to put proper description..... enjoy!!!!

:::

"Miggy?" I call out to my boyfriend who's currently towering over the coffee machine, waiting for it to brew.

"Yes, my love?" He responds with a look over his shoulder.

"Have you seen my black pointed heals? I can't seem to find them."

"No. Have you checked by the door?" He was lying.

He was lying. He was lying, and he didn't feel bad about it. The truth was he had stuffed them in the highest cupboard of the laundry room. He knew you couldn't reach it. He liked it that way. He couldn't let you open it since he had stuffed at least 4 pairs of heals in there.

"No miggy, they aren't here." You say after checking everywhere by the front door.

"Idk what to say, baby... we have to leave soon. Just throw on a different pair and I'll buy you some new ones later."

He was a liar... and he was damn good at it... until he wasn't.

:::

It was 2am. This insanity started hours ago, but Miguel's stamina wouldn't let down. Your soft moans could fuel him till sun rise, and he would love to do this forever. But unlike him, you have limits. Limits to your ability to stay strong, or at least keep yourself up right. But he doesn't really care. Your begs for a break won't succeed with a constantly starving man like him.

"One more round, please baby... please. I need you." His desperate begs caress your tear stained cheeks as he whispers them softly, leaning over you and filling you with sloppy thrust.

"Miguel- please.. It's too much.." You whine as you try to pull away, gripping desperately onto the sheets.

"Last one.... I promise..." he lies.

He said the same thing the last 4 rounds. If he could have it his way he'd continue. But he knew you couldn't keep going for much longer, so he used this opportunity to tell you what he couldn't bring himself to say otherwise.

"I lied..." he confesses. Watching your tits bounce with every rough trust, keeping himself busy while you tried to form a reply. It took you a while, but you managed to let out a soft hum, waiting for him to explain himself further.

"I took them. Your heels.. I fucking hate those things.." he thrust get faster as he says it. Hoping to make your brain foggy enough to not remember his confessions in the morning.

"I like your height, so why do you wear those weird things?" His heart felt lighter as he told you.

"I like that your height forces you to get on your tippy toes every time you want a kiss from me.. and even then, I have to bend over to reach you.... I like that you rely on me to reach those high shelves. Every time you ask me, you grow as red as a rose...."

You can feel his movements speed up. You can barely hear him... your mind fuzzy from pleasure. Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin felt like white noise at this point. The dim shadow of his frame covering you completely.

"You're so small under me.. your body falls any way I bend it..." At his point, he was just speaking the first thing to cross his mind.

You didn't hear him, and he knew it. Seconds later, you feel his weight shift, the mattress by your head sinking under his heavy hand as he leaned in and whispered.

"Please don't take that away from me."

His words were demanding. He felt exactly what he said. Even though your eyes were shut tight, you knew his eyes were locked on you. His breath heavy, as if he just confessed a dirty secret. He kinda did...

"Promise me.... Promise me you won't wear them and I'll help you cum."

As tired as you were. You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. So you give in.

"F-fine... I promise."

"You promise what?" He smirked hearing your whiney voice.

"I promise I won't wear the heels!!"

The pleasure he got from you saying that was immense. He shifted his weight once more as he changed your position like a marionette doll. Spreading your legs apart. His hands wrapped around your thighs, and his claws dug into your skin. The stinging pain of it was a wake-up call, causing you to gasp for air.

This position caused him to go deeper. The sticky mess from your previous rounds was being pushed out of your aching hole. The sound of his hips hitting your ass grew louder with every precise thrust. They got louder and louder until they stopped. Your thighs had clenched closed as you hit that high you were chasing. And you took him with you. Tightening around his pulsing cock in a way that made him fill you to the brim once more.

He watched your body shake. Your hips jerking forward. He would usually take that as his sign to keep going, but your fucked out face was telling him you couldn't take another thrust.

"You did great my love..... my little angel~" He cooed gentle praises as he rubbed your claw marked thighs.

"I'll buy you the cutest flats."

:::

A thing he didn't know.. is that you lied, too. His secret cupboard was emptied, and your heal collection was restored... and yes.. he pouted in silence.

The end

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Creating Your Own Language

When writer's set out to world-build, language has a huge role in creating new cultures and lending a sense of realism to your efforts. A world and people just feel more real when language is involved. As the old Irish proverb says "tír gan teanga, tír gan anam”. A country without a language, is a country without a soul. So how can we create one?

Do Your Homework

First things off, you should start by studying languages. Nobody is asking you to get fluent but it's important to understand the basic mechanics of language. You will start to see certain tricks to language, how verbs are conjugated and how gender effects certain words. It will be easier to make up your own when you know these tricks. For example, in Irish one doesn't scold but "gives out to" - "a thabhairt amach". In German, numbers are arranged differently to the English with the smallest digit arranged before the tens for example 21 - Einsundzwanzig. By immersing yourself in an array of different languages (I recommend finding ones close to how you want your language to sound), you can gain the tools necessary for creating a believable language.

Keep it Simple

Nobody expects you to pull a Tolkien or channel the powers of David J. Peterson (hail bisa vala). You're not writing a dictionary of your con-lang. You will probably use only a handful of words in your story. Don't over complicate things. A reader will not be fluent in your con-lang and if they have to continually search for the meaning of words they will likely loose patience.

Start Small

When you're learning a language, you always start with the basics. You do the exact same when writing one. Start with introductions, the names of simple objects, simple verbs (to be, to do, to have for example) and most importantly your pronouns (you will use these more than any other word, which is why I always start with them). Simple everyday phrases should always be taken care of first. Build your foundation and work your way up, this is a marathon not a race.

Music to the Ears

If your creating a new language, you're more than likely doing it phonetically. Sound is important to language and especially a con-lang because you want to trick your reader into thinking of a real language when reading the words on the page. I suggest sitting down and actually speak your words aloud, get the feel of them on the tongue to work out the spelling. Spellings shouldn't be too complicated, as I said before the readers aren't fluent and you want to make it easier for them to try it out themselves.

Also when you're creating the con-lang, it's important to figure out how it sounds to an unsuspecting ear. If a character is walking down a street and hears a conversation in a strange language, they will likely describe to the reader what it sounds like. It might be guttural or soft, it might be bursque or flowery. It's always interesting to compare how different languages flow in the ear.

Writing in Your Language

Now that you've written your language and created some words, you will want to incoperate them into your story. The way most writers do this is by italicising them. As a reader, I generally prefer authors not to go too overboard with their con-lang. Swathes of con-lang words might intrigue a reader but it can leave them confused as well. It is better to feed con-lang to your readers bit by bit. In most published works writer's tend to use words here and there but there are few whole sentences. For example in A Game Of Thrones by George RR Martin, has actually only a handful of short sentences in Dothraki despite the language being prevalent throughout the book. Daenerys Targaryen pronounces that "Khalakka dothrae mr’anha!"/"A prince rides inside me!" and it's one of the only sentence we actually see in actual Dothraki.

There's also nothing stopping you from just saying a language has been spoken. If you're not comfortable writing out the words, then don't make yourself. A simple dialogue tag can do the trick just fine.

Know your Words

I do recommend keeping an actual record of your words. Make a dictionary if you want or a simple list of words you need. This is one of the most entertaining aspects of world building, have fun with it, go mad if you like. Also here's a short list of questions you can ask yourself about language in general which might help your juices flow.

[wonuwrites]

MTL Seventeen NSFW: dom in public and private vs just in private. SFW: do things like protect you from yourself, like clumsiness or hitting corner or whatever!! When you have the chance. No rush ❤️❤️

oooo I like this~ I'll do the NSFW one first then will do a seperate one for the SFW :D Warning: we are getting horny so MINORS DNI or else. smut warning. mentions of petnames, domming, subbing, brat taming, simping, etc.

p.s I didn't really reread everything but I tried my best. If I fucked up any spelling or anything please lmk <3

p.s.s sorry this took forever D:

Dom In Public && Private

Most:

• S. Coups I mean, let's be honest for a hot second. He is daddy. He is a brat tamer, he is such an alpha type. You just look at him and you know he wears the pants.

In public, he will always have a protective hand on you. If you are somehow separated, his eyes are always glued to you. You are just his to protect and heaven forbid someone who was dumber than dirt tried to flirt or even say "hello" to you. They will get the death glare from you and he will be by your side before you can even respond.

In private, I see him to be really into worship/soft dom. I feel like he gives "scary" or "hard dom" vibes but to me... he's just a simp lmfaoooo. When y'all have sex he wants to make sure you are happy and pleased. I don't see him really being mean unless he needs to fuck the stress out or if you did something in public that set him off and he needed to show you who was in charge. If he ever did get rough, expect a lot of romantic aftercare where he is very soft with you. It would be different from the Seungcheol who was balls deep just a second or so ago I tell you what.

• Woozi This might be a controversial take but honestly it makes sense. Jihoon has a gaze that screams dom. Especially if involved you? People would know you were Jihoon's and Jihoon was yours.

In public, he would be a lot less touchy then Seungcheol. He isn't a fan of PDA as it is but he would always be next to you and would always have you close by. If you were to be a brat or if anyone looked at you a way, one look from Jihoon would have you by his side and the other person backing the fuck up.

In private, it would depend on his mood but almost always played the dominant role. Sometimes he would be subby if you had been a good girl/good boy. However, he loved to be in charge and be the reason behind your moans. He would love to watch your face scrunch and hear you scream his name. It was music to his ears.

• Mingyu This husky, golden retriever, whatever the fuck is such a clingy dominate person. It's the Aries in him. Like before I even knew he was an Aries, I could just tell. He's so husband, protective, and such a stud muffin and when it came to you, he would make sure everyone knew who you belonged to.

In public, I can see him kissing you in front of others just to remind everyone that you were his. He tried his best not to be but he could get jealous pretty easily. So he would love if you were wearing his clothes in public or if there was hickey on your neck. He'd find it so attractive. If you happened to brat while in public, he'd laugh it off but pull you closer and say "just you wait until we get home Jagi." njftgijftgiewhb.

In private, it depends if he is jealous and bossy or happy and horny. He is one of the boys that's mostly excited to be involved (lmao) but when he gets into his jealous and bossy modes he won't go easy. One of the first conversations you had when first talking about sex was a safe word because he knew he wanted to push you to your limits when he was in this mood. He's the type to ask "who is making you feel this good? Not that bastard. It's me." lmaooo lord help me I just got biased wrecked by my own writing. pls hekppppp

• Wonwoo I feel like a lot of writers claim Wonwoo to be one of the most dominant members in Seventeen and trust me I agree. However, I feel like he shows his dominance more in secret and private but if you brat it up in public, oh ho ho. good luck bestie. In public, people would just know that Wonwoo and you were a couple and not because of PDA or anything like that. Wonwoo wouldn't be like Mingyu and kiss you in front of everyone but he would stare. Like, if you were at a party or something like that, he would be watching. If you were talking to anyone he would be staring and make sure they and you knew and remembered who you belonged to. If you had decided to be bratty and fake flirt with someone. You would feel his hand wrap around your waist and he'd cut the conversation short and well... you both would be going somewhere private asap so he could remind you again who was in charge.

In private, ahahahaha cue kinky tumblr posts about this man lmaooo. They say the quiet ones are the freaks and yeah he is. Like Seungcheol, he's a brat tamer. tbh i think out of all of Seventeen he is the best with Seuncheol or Joshua following close behind but that's a discussion for another time lmaooo. Anywhore, Wonwoo would be a soft dom, a hard dom, a kinky dom, anything dom tbh. He would want you to feel good and it makes him feel good to be in control.

• Jeonghan This angel is also a demon, we know this. However, his dominance isn't in a sexual or "it is I who wears the pants in this relationship" type of way. It's more of him showing that he is playing the role of boyfriend and wanting to protect you. It's more of a caregiver type of vibe then a "I wanna rip Y/N's clothes off right when possible" which he does but shh but more of a "this is my person who I love more than anything else in this world. In public, you both would be near each other and would hold hands whenever possible. He'd be so domestically dom where he would hold doors open for you when you were going into buildings. When you would go into cars he would put his hand above your head so you wouldn't hit your head. He'd just be such a gentleman where his actions just proved to you and others how much he loves you.

In private, oh me oh my. It depends on the mood but honestly I see him as a silly lover but when he gets really really turned on where his eyes darken with lust, he will take care of you in ways that go beyond your own fantasies. Hell, even his own. The way he would fuck you into oblivion would be both romantic and kinky as hell. You loved getting manhandled by him, especially since it was so rare for him to do so.

• Hoshi Ok, so Soonyoung is such a touchy and clingy bitch which is why I say he'd act dom both in public and private. I feel like he would not be afraid to show you off and let you be bejeweled. (sorry listening to Taylor Swift rn my other hyperfixation LOL) He also would not be afraid of showing others that you both were together.

In public, his hands would ALWAYS be on you or near you. They would roam constantly, Your hand would be in his, his hand would be on your thigh, his hand would be on the small of your back or hell even on your hips. When I say everywhere I literally mean E V E R Y W H E R E. There would be no chance for you to brat or do anything to make him get a little possessive which was completely fine. If you were to kiss him at the event y'all were at and some of your lip gloss or lipstick stained his lips he would not wipe it off at all.

In private, I can see him being all about you. He'd be a lot like Seungcheol where he would be so needy and soft dom. I do also think he is part of the line where he is just happy to be involved lmaooo. Your sex life with Soonyoung would be fun. A lot of giggles and love were shown in your sessions. The times where it would be rough-er, he would use his horanghe instincts i'm not sorry and would just ruin you.

LEAST:

• Seungkwan I feel like Seungkwan is such a shy bean when it comes to being in love with his pookie but he also is a silly goose. I feel like his "dom"ness in public would be more of a meme but he also would stand his ground if he really had to.

In public, people would know you were together but not because of skin ship or stares like the previous guys. They would see your playful banter and the chemistry was just chemistry-ing. If some poor soul thought to try to hit on you, Seungkwan would either side eye and intervene or just laugh. No in between imo.

In private, I see him more of a switch. idk why but I can see y'all doing rock paper scissors before sex sometimes just to see who is doing what lmao. Winner of these rock paper scissors would be the dominant one. When he won, he would attempt to get into character and honestly, you would laugh in his face and he would prove to you how domkwan he could be.

next part lol

DOM ONLY IN PRIVATE

MOST:

• Joshua Oh Shua, Shua, Shua. I know some might put him in the previous category sometimes but I think not. I think he is more of a "wait until we get home" type of fella. His eyes would do the thing he does and that's when you would know you were in for a fun night.

In private, it is a bit hard to predict what Jisoo would do. He's fucking insane but in the best way. I could see him pinning you against a wall as soon as y'all got home and would say shit like "oh, so you think you're single huh? Think it's time for your reminder of who you belong with." If he was jealous or upset, he would like to dom just to prove to both of you that your relationship was secure. I feel like he is one of the more hopeless romantics of Seventeen.

• Minghao Minghao is honestly such a lover boy and honestly both of you are wrapped around each others finger. I feel like when it comes to relationships, he wouldn't mind showing you off in public but acting "dom" in public would not be something he would want to do. I feel like he'd want to let you be your own person and he would just be there for the ride. If anything he'd look more like a simp and just give heart eyes

In private, brat tamer. He knew how to keep you in your place especially if you were being a little shit. He'd be the type to giggle at your actions before pinning you to a wall and asking you to "come again, baby?" If you bratted in private, he was all about it because he knew you only did that if you were in a subby mood. If you were bratting in public, the bedroom would be even spicier because "it's like that huh?" ewhjrbewuOB lmao

• Jun He's quiet. Highkey, from my expertise of whoreology the quiet ones are the most freakiest and I can see Jun being a switch but more dom leaning. He wouldn't show it in front of others because he's shy but oh me oh my. You knew how dom he could be when it was just you two.

In private, he would be about you. Whether he was domming or subbing it was always about you. He was so curious about you. He was like Seungcheol in a way where when domming where he was soft and just worship you. When domming he'd be a smiling mess and would just love teasing the shit out of you. Honestly, in bed he'd be such a shit but neither of your friends would guess it lmaoooo

• Dokyeom Ok so Seokmin has his moments but this man is such a simp. If anything, you gave off the "dom" vibes in the relationship LOL. I feel like you both would be so down bad in your relationship it was almost too sweet. Seokmin would do anything for you, but domming in public? I could see an attempt happening once but it would end up in both of y'all in hysterics because ????

In private, if you wanted to be dominated Seokmin would dominate you. Sub/dom roles aren't a necessity in your relationship or sex life and that's not a problem. When Seokmin dommed, he would love to have you in missionary while holding your hands and just making love to you. When he was topping, he would make sure you were okay and was just such a soft dom. He would worry about doing hard dom stuff like Mingyu, Seungcheol, or Wonwoo. He would need you to basically beg on your knees and promise him 194676 times that you would tell him if he went too rough.

• Dino Like Mingyu, Soonyoung, Jun, and Dokyeom he is also someone that is usually just happy to be involved lmao. He is very soft and shows that he is with you in public but it's not in a "she's mine fuck off" type of way like some of the others would be. It was more of a "I'm down bad for my baby" type of vibe aww

In private, similarly to Seokmin, I can't really see dom/sub being a super prominent thing in your sex lives. I get that is a hot take but idk, I feel like Chan is a silly lover like Jeonghan. Actually I see him being very similar to Jeonghan. However, when Chan would want to be more "Dom" it would because you joined in with "bullying"/"teasing" him with his hyungs. When y'all get home he would start off with "hmm (Y/N) you think you are so funny huh?" then he'd take you to bed real quick.

LEAST:

• Vernon Look, Hansol is also apart of the "I'm just happy to be involved line." In general, his love language would be so subtle that sometimes it would seem like y'all were more besties then together. However, you both understood where you stood and honestly that was all the mattered.

In private, I can't see him being dom at all. I don't really see him even being a sub. When y'all were doing the do, it was mostly making love and pretty vanilla. I can see it being a bunch of goofiness too with a lot of kisses and I love yous. He'd just be so soft and down bad in bed. It's honestly so cute. lmao Vernon soft sex drabble coming soon?

this was so much fun, please send more MTL if you see this <33

[amethxxt]

i'm ranting about descendants again and this is a long one

Alright, I talked a little bit about this on twitter literally yesterday (https://x.com/amethxxt/status/1798768561613361458) but I wanted to do it here too, so here we are!!

I think everyone has seen these pictures by now. It's from Descendants new book "The World of Auradon: Royals & Villains".

Now, at first, I got really excited (in a way, I still am) because it'll probably give me more material to use in my fics. Also, Uma looks absolutely stunning, so I immediately began reading her page and... Well, it's not the nicest things, right?

Like I said on twitter, I can't be the only one who sees the majorly different ways they talk about Uma and Mal.

With Mal, they start saying she's a "confident natural leader", and like- no, she's not, far from it.

I think the best version we got from Mal was on D1. She was such a good character and that's when I think the writers succeded the most with her - I believe it was hard to find someone who actively disliked or simply hated her.

When D2 came out, things went slightly downhill. Mal's inner conflict of not being the picture perfect Lady of the Court and feeling that the odd one out because she wasn't doing well in Auradon when compared to her friends is very realistic.

The pressure that she was feeling to be perfect and all the new things that came with being the King's girlfriend makes you understand why she was so anxious and wanted to leave. Now, I think we should all understand that this makes Mal a very insecure person.

She's insecure, she's flawed and runs away the first chance she gets because everything becomes too much. And if they wrote her like that, how is she a confident natural leader?

When the Core Four and Ben go after her, it's when things begin to change. Mal has a few moments in this movie: running away and leaving just a note to her best friend, claiming Dizzy was going to be fine when Evie felt sorry about leaving a child in the abusive place they all grew up in, betraying Uma's trust. Yeah.

I'm gonna make it very clear that I really like Mal as a character. I criticize her a lot because the writers started putting her in a pedestal, overpowering her and trying to erase anything that could be seen as bad.

Why would they have Mal apologize for using a love spell on Ben when they make such a cute couple and would be endgame anyways?

It gets worse in D3. I remember watching them announce that Hades was Mal's father and being like "No fucking way" because you want this girl to be not only half-fairy but a half-god?? Was this the only way to have his ember in the story?

Well, I think we got used to that plot after a while, but then - Oh, Mal's also Lady of the Court, she'll be a part of the decisions that concern the Isle of the Lost and a voice for the other VKs.

Yes, Mal is "a confident natural leader" who turns her back on her people and comes up to the idea of closing the Barrier for good to protect Auradon citizens.

Why do they refuse to bring up the fact that it was her idea?? Nevermind the fact that her and Ben weren't married yet, she was not the Queen and had absolutely no power to make that decision. They make Ben so useless, a King with no voice because he's not the main character, right?

So she makes a decision that's not up to her and proceeds to lie to all of her friends, makes empty promisses to both Celia and Uma, and when shit hits the fan, nothing happens.

Having Evie confront her about it is one of my favorite scenes, but what are the consequences? I understand that it was the final movie, but it's so rushed that makes everyone else feel out of character.

Mal and Evie can be the best of friends, but you can't tell me Mal would be like "I was wrong, I have to be a voice for everyone and I shouldn't have lied" and Evie would be just "Ok, perf".

And what about the opposite? When Mal betrays Uma for probably the third time, Uma has no trouble forgiving her? Of course they don't mention what happens in the books, they don't mention Mal trying to hurt Evie (or even get her killed lol) and they don't mention the "shrimpy" incident with Uma.

They don't talk about Mal's wrong doings the same way they talk about Uma.

Uma, according to the new book, is a "confident and resourceful VK with a major mean streak". Sorry, Uma has a mean streak? I don't think so. What Disney and Descendants keep doing is use the definition of a villain for a character who's an antagonist.

Villains have malicious intentions, they are evil. You're gonna tell me the girl who simply wants for all the children to get off the Isle, a place they were forced to live in along with murderers and other criminals, some of those who happened to be their parents, all while surviving off of the garbage that came from Auradon, is the evil one?

That is not to say Uma doesn't make mistakes or does bad things. Mal and Uma have the common point of using a love spell on Ben, which is awful and should be acknowledged as that, but they only do it in Uma's case.

"When Mal and her friends successfully freed Ben, Uma took it one step further by putting Ben under a magic love spell" x "She [Mal] used spells to mess with other students, to convince Ben that he loved her, and to change herself in order to fit in as Ben's girlfriend. But once she realized she needed to ditch the spell book and learn to survive without magic, she was able to become the queen she was always meant to be"

Those... are not the same to me. They detail every thing Uma does during D2, making it clear that using a love spell was worse than the previous actions of kidnapping him, but with Mal it almost feels like they excuse her actions because, eventually, she learned that magic wasn't the way to become who she was meant to be.

Also, what do you mean Mal felt guilty about the other VKs who were left behind? Mal didn't even look sad when her and Evie were leaving Dizzy behind! Evie was the one to come up with the idea to bring more children to Auradon, and when that magically turned into the VK Day (my arch-nemesis plotline along with Merlin Academy), she didn't look worried at all that it would them so long to free all the kids if they were going to pick 4 each time.

And again, her idea to close the Barrier for good (with no way in or out) would mean that eventually, everyone left in the Isle would die. I know it's Disney, and they would never make that happen, but if you're not going in to even leave your trash there (aka their food source), yeah, they're all dying.

Now, with Uma, they point out how she wanted to escape and get revenge on Mal, but like...... not really? Of course she mentions in D2 how she wants Mal's new turf and tries to make a deal with her to leave with her crew, but when she's actually free and we get into D3, it's been months (I think) and while Auradon's scared she's going to do something, we find out Uma spent all that time looking for a hole in the Barrier to get the kids out.

When she makes another deal to help Mal, all she asks for is the guarantee that every kid who wants to leave the Isle is able to do so. Who breaks that promise? The "villain" with the major mean streak or the confident natural leader?

I'm not saying that Mal is real villain, because she's really not. But she's far from how they describe her and if you're gonna tell me she's a natural leader, I better not see her bringing down the Barrier, letting both the kids and villains out, and acting like it's the right thing to do.

VK Day wasn't the answer to free the innocents, but bringing down the Barrier isn't it either! Mal doesn't "help convice Auradon citizens to accept all VKs into Auradon Prep" she just decides to do that lol

And again, that decision is not up to her, she had no legal right to do it. She was just Lady of the Court and nothing else.

Like I said on twitter, Disney and Descendants like Uma because she's a fan favorite, she was one since they announced her as a character. But they insist on the idea that Auradon changed her for the better, as if she was never someone who fought for what was right. She's not perfect either, but they can't write about her in a way that makes her look better than Mal.

How did Mal stop her at the end of D2? Mal didn't do anything, they were fighting, Ben made a speech, Uma turned around and left. That was it.

How did Auradon transform her? Of course they are implying that because of Rise of Red and her becoming the new principal, and even though this plot still kinda confuses me, it still seems like all the wants is for Auradon to be a fair place that doesn't discriminate against anyone.

I now this is getting too long, but I really like ranting about descendants. It's my comfort franchise but there's so many things wrong with it lol

And I also know I'm probably looking too deep into it, but I don't think I'm the only one who sees the ways Disney has always treated Uma and Mal differently.

I want to get this book and see if there's anything else about them. I really wished Disney and Descendants treated Uma better, though.

[syoddeye]

more reading recs

because one post isn't enough. we are hashtag blessed with fic.

as requested, i've highlighted fics with noncon and/or dubcon elements in orange. beyond that, you are responsible for reading tags, warnings, and summaries.

pairings are indicated, although these may change or may not be established yet.

there is no method to this madness, no specific order. these are listed here as my brain remembered them.

i've checked all the links maybe three times, if they're broken, i blame tumblr's formatting.

without further ado...

Slasher Handler by @dragonnarrative-writes - Ghost x Reader

"Simon does serial killer things. What a rascal!" Another fantastically written Simon, with wonderful dashes of Gaz and Price. It's put the term 'romance knives' in my vocabulary. There are many quotable bits and moments that made my blood run cold with how normal the ~situation~ feels, but everything has to be experienced firsthand.

The Far Shore by @deadbranch - Soap x Reader

DB's fic collection is rich, and The Far Shore is no different. I fucking loved Pacific Rim, so when I saw her first mention a PR AU, I did imaginary backflips. DB's Readers are some of my favorites because of how complex and realistic they feel, and when combined with the visceral depth of the neural handshake AND Soap? Compelling. The dynamic between them is fascinating. I almost can't wait for it to be finished so I can go back and dissect it.

Falling into Place by @mortuarywriting

Morg's brought the first COD Isekai AU I've read, like a little treat, with A/B/O to boot. The first chapter hooked me and cracked me up. Their dialogue reads so well, it truly feels like I got sucked into the universe. The panicked ramblings, the over-explanation, the 'oh shit, we don't even have a shared cultural touchstone' moments. I cannot wait for more.

Carvings by @femalefemur - Price x Reader

Cyn's got this amazing thing going on called 'Top Quality Worms' where she takes me by the hand and leads me down a rabbit hole I didn't know I'd find so cozy. Carvings is one piece from her incredible list, featuring a bloody, possessive Captain Price. Somehow, out of this entire piece, Price snapping a pen really did it for me. Did someone say loss of control? Oh no, not my kryptonite!

Under Your Spell by @groguspicklejar - Gaz x Reader x Soap

This fic had me at the pairing tag. Lured me right in. No hope for me, and I'm not mad about it. The way Gaz and Soap play off of each other in Under Your Spell is spine-tingling in more ways than one. The definition of scaroused. Kelsi writes a wonderful Gaz. The first two paragraphs in part two, Split My Skin, describe him perfectly to me.

Chokehold by @ccrites - Soap x Reader

Chokehold is a chef's kiss read. Starts off as a cute and sweet gym read, and uh, well, it does get sweeter, in a way. Without spoiling anything, there is a brief cab ride that made me take a lap before things got really going for Reader. CC's Soap is a delightful tease that is tender all at the same time. I'd join his gym in a heartbeat.

Knight/Princess AU by @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world - Price x Reader

I've read and re-read this AU series a dozen times. It's so gd cute, I might need to see the dentist about how it's rotting my teeth. Seriously, it makes ME want to be a princess. Specifically Price's princess. Bear writes such a sweet and gruff Price, catch me holding a hand over my heart and just sighing. I'm also a big fan of multiple POVs and the insight into each character.

Martyr in the Making by @eilidh-eternal - Ghost x Reader

I had a tattoo touch-up the other day, and while waiting, I thought about this fic: the dream and nightmare of being tattooed by Simon and the rest of the 141. It's a dream for obvious reasons (probably unhealthy for me) and a nightmare because of, well, you'll have to read the story. Getting a tattoo can be such an intimate experience. You put yourself into someone's care and get something permanently etched onto your body. When Reader sits for Simon, you're right there with her, the two of you on an altar.

Liquid Smooth by @cordeliawhohung - Gaz x Reader

Bodyguard!Gaz save me, save me, bodyguard!Gaz. Ugh, Gaz is fucking incredible in every flavor, but there is something that hits different about the guy when he's flexing those 'VIP protection' skills. There are several tiny moments in Liquid Smooth that made me audibly whisper, "God, I wish that were me." If you have a conifer tree allergy, you might not be able to handle the god-tier pining. (I'll see myself out.)

pornstar!Gaz by @cordeliawhohung - Gaz x Reader

Gotta include the series that I drop everything for whenever I see an update. Another fantastic depiction of best man Kyle Gaz Garrick. The charm, the jealousy, the care...My personal favorite installments are Whispers and Threesomes.

plus size puppygirl!reader / Simon & Reader / Punishment by @secretsynthetic - Price x Reader x Ghost

Ghost gets his Captain a puppy, and Synth gives us a tasty Price x Reader x Ghost story. I've linked the intro and a Simon x Reader snippet, but my personal favorite is Punishment. Punishment is a deeper dive into Price the disciplinarian: "how the hell do i get a mutt like you to fuckin’ listen?" I'd gush about it, but again, this is another one to read and experience firsthand. One of my favorite recent explorations of a PriceGhost dynamic.

~~

i'll probably cobble another one of these together in may 2024. my fic backlog is something else. i blame it on all the massive talent. mwah.

[wordsinhaled]

hi there! I started following you after seeing your essay-long answers to DBD things in tags, and it made me very happy to see someone as deeply analytical as me about this show.

I wanted to ask you: if you were given the final say, how would you want the show to confirm both Charles' bisexuality and his romantic feelings towards Edwin (as both can be done at different points)?

Personally, I can't get the idea out of my head that it will be done with some kind of tragic goodbye, somehow Charles and Edwin have to separate, and Charles either verbally confirms it or kisses Edwin goodbye. Not saying that's what I want, but it's what I expect the writers to do.

Hope you're having a good day.

btw, would love to hear you talk more about timerogue (Fifteen/Rogue), I need more essay-long analysis about those two.

Hi there! <3 I am so happy you have enjoyed my tag rambles! And thank you so much for asking this great question, I had a lot of fun thinking through it!

I have many thoughts on this! Sticking them under a cut eventually because it is a long post!

Re: Charles' bisexuality: So the thing is I think that the DBDA universe generally seems to eschew labels in favor of showing rather than telling the audience what the characters' identities are. For example Jenny is interested in dating women, which is clear from her dialogue, and she goes on a date with Maxine, but she's never labeled anything. Edwin is never labeled anything by anyone in the narrative, either, but the narrative shows us that his only love interests and his desires and romantic feelings are for other boys. I would argue that we have been shown textually that Charles is bi, already, the same way the show shows-not-tells us other things. Charles by the end of the first season feels bi enough to me in a way that just feels like someone... living a bi life, and not yet realizing they might in fact be in love back with their best friend. I don't know how else to put it but I hope that makes sense. (My alternate, slightly sappier version of canon is that Charles fell for Edwin the first night, but has shoved it down for the duration of their friendship, but the former feels more likely as the direction I think we see on screen.) We are being told Charles is bi:

In the way Charles himself draws parallels between why he likes Crystal (his romantic love interest) and Edwin, pointing out they share the exact same traits

In the way he gives Crystal and Edwin the same genre of deep, loving gaze

In the way he thinks Crystal is fit, and he checks Edwin out, on multiple occasions, but only flirts with Edwin overtly in episode 8 ("My smile is pretty convincing," plus more than the usual amount of physical touch/proximity and less plausible deniability) once he can be assured by Edwin's recent confession that doing so will not be poorly received

In the different kinds of softness and masculinity he displays around both Crystal and Edwin

In the way that, despite not knowing the ending, he draws a parallel between himself and Edwin & a pair of lovers from classical mythology as though it is the most natural thing in the world to bring up the story of Orpheus & Eurydice, making overt the romantic potential of his relationship with Edwin

In the way he is so quick to write off that the two jocks were "just best mates" the way a person does when they are recognizing their own queerness in themselves and have to keep themselves safe from it, because of the environment that they are in (Charles being the Sports Lad, needing to fit in with other sports lads, and needing to avoid the censure/violence of his father)

And coming off the above, in the way that Charles navigates along the toughness-sensitivity spectrum within the social constructs of being "the brawn"

In the entire sparring scene in episode 1, tbh. The rituals are very intricate /drops mic

I understand the importance that's been placed by fandom spaces on "confirmed canon" queerness that is spelled out in so many words, given a label that can be pointed to to say "This character is definitely this!" but I think (and this is just my personal opinion) it can be reductive sometimes, and I don't really want Charles to label himself in that kind of way, just as much as I don't think the other characters needed the labels to "confirm" the queerness of their relationships or indeed of the show; having him be the one to do it for being bi would set him apart. I also think taking into account the time period that he grew up in, Charles would care more about living by the truth of how he feels and how he can use those feelings to connect with the one he loves, than what to call it. I just don't think we're gonna get like a "Hello my name is Charles Rowland and I am a verified bisexual"-type scene in season 2, and I think that's okay, and I don't really think that's the way for the show to 'confirm' it. Mind you I would love to see Charles talk about how it makes him feel to realize his feelings, and how his feelings for Edwin are different compared to how other people make him feel, because god, I love Charles so much and I just know such a scene would both destroy and heal me. FEEL YOUR FEELINGS, CHARLES <3

I think it says something really important that many, many, many people took one look at Charles Rowland and said: "Oh, he's bi." Not like... he has bi energy, or could plausibly be bi, or whatever; for so many people he just resonated as being bi, in a very organic way. (I know there are people who do read Charles as being straight/having rejected Edwin in s1, and I respect that, but they probably will not like my ideas about Charles very much, then, tbh.)

For what it's worth, though, Jayden's acting choices playing Charles, and the way Jayden (and George) have addressed the 'straight best friend Charles' line of questioning during interviews, both make it seem to me that Jayden is intentionally playing Charles as bi and we are already supposed to understand this for what it is, based on Charles' actions—just as we understand similar things about other characters inner worlds we are shown. Whether Charles is consciously aware of it yet is more the up-for-debate part to me, personally. It's like he is dancing right on the edge of the revelation, or something, but his actions (and his EYES) are speaking for him pretty loudly already.

As for how he confirms it more obviously? Hmm. Well, I'll admit i think a kiss between them would be lovely, if only because I think it would quite possibly be the Most Kiss a kiss could be, with all of Charles' tenderness and adoration for Edwin poured into it. I also think it would be in-character, given Charles canonically misses kissing, and wants to do it with people he's interested in romantically (see Crystal).

Charles struggles with being able to admit romantic feelings out loud because he is scared of his own capacity to hurt Edwin; after all the only example of "romantic" love he has seen was his parents' marriage. Charles is a person who acts first, thinks later, but in this process of understanding what he feels for Edwin he's taking his time and being the opposite of impulsive. This shows how important his relationship to Edwin is to him and his commitment to Getting It Right. Even with that deliberateness, though, I think it would still be easier for him to express himself through a tangible action like a kiss than through words—at least at first.

It reminds me of this scene from the first draft of Maurice between Maurice and Alec. Alec is struggling to verbalize his feelings for Maurice, although he does know he feels them. He can say other things, but naming love for what it is is the challenge; and in the end they use a shared memory of a time Alec showed his love through actions (running through the rosebushes just to see Maurice's face) to communicate and mutually understand their love for each other. Similarly, Charles finds it difficult to admit a deep romantic love aloud, but his actions speak louder, in his determination to retrieve Edwin from hell ("There's no one else—no one else—I would go to hell for") and he can allude to the romantic implications of the act, by referencing the Orpheus & Eurydice myth. It similarly becomes, I may not be able to say the words, but you and I both know the lengths i would go to for you.

Maurice : "I love you, sir be damned." Alec: "Maurice"—never before had the word been spoken—"you're an angel." Maurice: "I don't want to hear that." Alec: "Maurice, Maurice" his voice failed also; he had once said the rest to a woman. "Maurice - what you've said I feel. Understand?" M: "I think so, but I want to be sure. Remember those rose bushes in the other rain? - Look at me hard - That's right. That'll do. It's settled."

As far as the catalyst for Charles revealing his feelings... a tragic goodbye—gosh, as heartbreakingly compelling as I know seeing George and Jayden act that out would be (I know they would crush it), I really hope the writers don't do that to them! The thing about Payneland that is so refreshing to me is how they manage to subvert trope expectations and break out of the tragic narratives they are placed in, and I think they would ultimately defy any attempt at separation. As Edwin says, "I will make sure that doesn't happen," about them ever being split up. I am rooting for a happily ever after for them, because they have both been through enough, and have fought tooth and nail to stay together.

Steve Yockey has mentioned potentially having Desire of the Endless cameo on the show and I also think having them and Charles interact would be a fascinating way to bring to light some of the deep-rooted stuff Charles struggles with around love (and would nicely parallel Edwin's experience with the Cat King which catalyzed his Charles-feelings realization). I also like the idea of the team maybe meeting a couple during a case who parallel Edwin and Charles and are romantically involved. Seeing that would allow Charles to externalize the way he feels for Edwin by seeing it reflected back to him by other people; sometimes things are easier to pick up on in others than in ourselves. I think that would be a fun way to get him to see what's been there under the surface for some time :)

Oh my god this got so long asfhlgkjhg SORRY

(I'm sure the Doccy Who fixation will come back in time for the Christmas special! :D)

[lovebugism]

the customer’s always right just gave me life, they're just so sweet AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | heart-shaped

summary: you think you might be falling in love with eddie. eddie thinks he might be falling for you. a series of stashed away insecurities threaten to get in the way. pairing: virgin!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 10k holy moly warnings: talks of drugs, shitty boyfriends, and being a whore <3 also reader gets fingered <3 a lil bit of angst, smut 18+ mdni a/n: ah shit here we go again!! thanks for waiting so patiently for me to get over my writer's block and finally post! reading all the feedback for this series has been so nice, all of you guys are so so sweet <333 anyway, pls enjoy this installment and if you don't.. maybe don't tell me :^) happy reading ily!

( PREVIOUSLY) | ( MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

Truth be told, working the lunch rush at Enzo’s wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

It meant you got to miss out on serving all the wine snobs at dinner who send back devoured dishes like it’s their job — insistent on a refund because their food was “unsatisfactory” just to get twice the meal with half the tip.

The rich country club goers you waited on were far more docile in comparison. They arrive dressed in pastel-collared shirts and pretty athletic dresses after finishing up their tennis practices or games of golf.

They sit and talk for hours, dine on the most expensive shrimp and wine, just to leave a tip so ginormous that you have to thank them before they go. It’s a flaunt of wealth more than anything. It might’ve felt the least bit demeaning if it wasn’t going directly into your pockets.

And it would be way too lame of you to say that getting to see Eddie Munson after your shift was the only thing getting you through it at all. That sort of puppy love belonged to high schoolers who don't know any better, you know that… But screw it— knowing you were going to meet him after was the only thing getting you through this mind-numbing, foot-aching, brain-cell-losing, eight-hour shift.

The days, of which there had been four (but, then again, who’s counting?), had been excruciating without him.

You couldn’t even sleep the first night you left his trailer. You felt him everywhere — your mouth, your chest, and between your legs — still buzzing with his touch even halfway across Hawkins.

It had you swearing up and down that the Dungeon Master had some actual powers you didn’t know about. That he’d cast some sort of love spell on you after getting you to come on his thigh.

You quickly learned that Eddie Munson was the kind of boy that girls lose sleep over; the kind of boy that reduces you to your basic schoolgirl tendencies as you grin into your pillow and kick your feet in the air.

It was embarrassing, the effect he had on you.

And you so desperately wanted to blame it on whatever witchcraft the town thought the leader of Hellfire possessed. It was easier than facing the fact that you were head over heels for a stupid boy. 

You didn’t even have time to face it, really, because you were already too busy falling for him. He had you tripping all over yourself and face-planting into the petals of a thousand roses — it was pathetic.

You’d catch yourself smiling whenever you thought of him, grinning like an idiot while you rang up customers at the register — more ecstatic at the idea of Eddie than the hundred-dollar tip they’d left you. It made you giddy to think about seeing him again, enough that it distracted you from the fact that you hadn’t sat down since your shift started.

Eddie had you full of sunshine and rainbows and mirth, like something out of a damn GAP commercial. It was a particular sort of happiness you thought abandoned you a long, long time ago.

Apparently, you were wrong.

You think of Eddie, and a foreign feeling of anticipation swirls in the pit of your stomach. It almost makes you sick with childlike excitement. You didn’t know another person was capable of making someone this happy. It’s unfamiliar and daunting and euphoric and really fucking scary. 

It’s an otherworldly feeling that feels like it’s only happening to you. A secret you want to keep to yourself and shout from the rooftops at the same time. People bustle around you, keep on living their mundane lives, and spare not a glance to their lovesick waitress.

No one knows I’m falling in love right now, you find yourself thinking.

But that isn’t exactly true. Jim Hopper knows because that asshole knows everything, and notices almost immediately how strange you’re acting.

The chief of police was always a comforting sight amidst a sea of strangers, most of whom made more in a week than you could ever hope to make in a year. He's a breath of fresh air, as it were, which is strange considering the two of you spent the entirety of your high school career playing cat and mouse.

He’d catch you smoking, threaten to turn you in, and you’d beg him not to — pull out all the stops, the puppy dog eyes, the innocent schoolgirl charm, the whole damn nine to make him melt.

He’d take pity on you and let you off with a warning, as long as you promised never to do it again. And you’d lie to him, tell him it was a one-time thing, and he’d catch you a week or so later — getting high at the quarry or with your hand shoved down the pants of a man too old for you at Lover’s Lake.

And the cycle would keep on repeating for the next four agonizing years until you graduated.

Strangely, somewhere along the line, the two of you became pretty good friends.

Everyone once in a while, he’ll stop by Enzo’s during his breaks to keep you company. He never actually orders food, though, just binges on the endless free breadsticks until the buttons of his uniform threaten to pop. He'll bathe in yellow candlelight and chi-antee for an hour or more and then leave you a too big tip you always have to fight about when he goes.

Your pour the crimson colored wine he’d ordered into his rounded glass, flashing him the label before describing the vintage to him, per your boss’s demand. 

It feels foreign to be so formal in front of Hopper — because, after catching you with a mouthful of Tommy Hagan in a car back in '83, nothing makes either of you uncomfortable anymore. But sometimes it feels like your asshole manager is lurking over your shoulder every damn second of the day.

And having a job is more important than your pride, you figure.

“This is a medium-bodied, acidic tart, ruby red wine. The earthy aroma pairs nicely with the cherry and strawberry notes…” and blah, blah, blah. You’ve repeated the same couple of lines so often you’ve started to say them in your sleep.

“Well, shit, teacup. If you put that much effort into school, you coulda been valedictorian,” Jim quips with a signature dad smirk that’s half-hidden beneath his bushy mustache.

It’s not the first time he’s made that dumb joke, and it won’t be the last.

You roll your eyes more at the nickname than the backhanded compliment, because it isn’t your fault the sasquatch is six-foot-four.

“How much is this one gonna cost me?” he asks you and leans in his plush seat to reach for the wallet in his back pocket.

“Don’t worry about it, lurch. It’s on the house.”

A mischievous glint twinkles in Jim’s eye as he squints up at you. He tucks the leather back into his khakis. “Sure Enzo won’t mind?” he asks you because he hasn’t yet bothered to acknowledge that your boss wasn’t actually named Enzo. 

“Yeah, he’ll be pissed,” you confirm with a shrug. “I just don’t care.”

“Well, you’re in an unrealistically good mood after the lunch rush,” he sing-songs.

You don’t miss the suspicious lilt in his voice. Your smile is equally sarcastic and sickly sweet as you tell him: “It’s ‘cause my favorite customer is here—”

“Yeah, I don’t buy that,” he interjects with a curt shake of his head. He sits up straighter and leans his elbows on the white linen cloth of the table like he means business. “Who’s the boy?”

“What— I don’t— What are you— boy?” you sputter with a half-hearted laugh. Your stammering isn’t the least bit convincing.

“It’s a boy, right?” he monotones. “You only get all giddy and gross like this when there’s a boy.”

You hate that he knows you so well. It might’ve been sweet if it wasn’t totally infuriating.

To be fair, you did tend to wear your heart on your sleeve, even when you didn’t want to. When you were falling in love, it poured out of you like sunshine and blinded anyone who dared to look too closely.

Golden rays shoot from your fingertips, shine in the irises of your eyes, and flash from your smile — like the one tugging at the edges of your lips now.

It leaves no room to deny what he already knows: that you’re a stupid girl with a stupid crush on a stupid boy because she hasn’t learned from her stupid mistakes.

“Fine,” you concede with your sheepish gaze flitted to the ceiling. “It’s— It’s dumb. It’s a silly crush, it doesn’t mean anything.”

Hopper nods, like he’s giving you some kind of blessing. “Good for you. It’s about time you moved on from that asshole— what was his name again? Harrington?”

It makes you roll your eyes. You can’t tell if he’s actually confused or if he’s making fun of you. It would be all too like a middle-aged man to make a misogynistic joke about a girl who’s had more partners than years she’s been alive.

“Hargrove,” you correct in a monotone. Your tone is as bitter as thinking about him makes you feel.

“Him, too,” he quips.

There it is.

“It’s not even like that, okay? It’s not like anything,” you try and deflect like you aren’t beaming and trying horribly to hide it. “He… He probably doesn’t even like me like that.”

“Well, it’s about time you got over that boy, is all I’m saying. You deserve a good guy. A boy treats you right, who has actual aspirations in life, and keeps his nose clean—” he rambles as he brings the wine to his mouth to take a drink. He stops himself to ask: “What's his name again?”

You fidget ahead of him, shifting your weight on your feet awkwardly because good guy who stays out of trouble and has actual aspirations in life isn’t how most people would describe the Munson boy. Jim least of all.

He’s got a similar relationship with Eddie to the one he had with you, though there was little room for friendship between the two. It’s just an outlaw making a living on drugs and a chief trying to catch him dealing it.

“Eddie,” you answer and then clear your throat. “Uh, Eddie Munson…”

The life leaves Jim’s eyes.

There’s no amount of wine in Enzo’s cellar that could’ve prepared him for that — or you, for the twenty-minute lecture that followed.

“I have no words,” he’d scolded you like a disappointed parent but proceeded to rant for nearly half an hour after the fact, in true fatherly fashion.

Hopper knows when you’re falling in love. It’s all sunshine and rainbows and blue skies. It’s all so sweet he could gag. But there’s always another side of that coin — a dark, colder, meaner one. 

Because sometimes boys are cruel, sometimes you really are in over your head, and sometimes relationships don’t work out. And when things go bad, they go rotten, and he has to deal with the storm cloud you become after the fact.

Taking care of you becomes his part-time job, and his check-ins become endless as he makes sure you don’t fall back into your old ways — using and getting used.

And truth be told, you don’t have the best track record with men, and Hopper tries to tell you all this, but it doesn’t get through.

Because you have a good feeling about this. About Eddie.

Fuck all the rest.

Today marks your thirteenth meeting with Eddie.

For such an unlucky number, it’s got you squirming from all the butterflies fluttering in your belly with an excitement more innocent than you’re used to. Like standing in the queue for a rollercoaster in a childlike mixture of apprehension and animation, somehow both frightened and enraptured for what’s to come.

And you’re absolutely bouncing with it. Smiling to yourself in the car with the radio turned all the way up and the windows all the way down, thrumming your fingers on the steering wheel as you belt the lyrics to “Super Trouper” with a beam that could make the sunshine cower. 

It’s all completely and utterly perfect until you become suddenly aware of how unearthly happy you are.

Then it hits you like a ton of bricks and you shrink into yourself because… maybe you shouldn’t feel this way. The last time you saw Eddie, he came in his jeans and you got off on his thigh — there was never any room for daydreaming and pining and puppy love-ing, not when you so quickly gave yourself away.

The thought of Eddie not nearly being as happy to see you is what hurts the most. How he had you once and now you’re back to just being the customer he sees once a week.

What if he doesn’t give you weed for free anymore? Fuck that — what if you’re not his favorite? 

And maybe it’s just you, maybe you’re the problem. Maybe you should be passed the point of giddy excitement, maybe it’s uncool, maybe you’re wearing your heart on your sleeve and it’s leaving the door open for too much hurt. Maybe Hopper was right.

But you’re happy, at least for right now, and you don’t get the chance to be too often.

Most days, you’re just an accessory — a pretty pebble someone finds on the ground and spends a couple of seconds ogling at before leaving and never thinking about again.

You deserve the chance to be held, don’t you? You should get to be praised and coddled and worshipped like the pretty girls do.

And Eddie makes you feel held. 

So you’ll stick around until he gets bored of you, until you stop being so fun for him. You’ll take the moments of happiness as they’re spoon-fed to you and taste them, really taste them, until you’re starving again. You’ll stay full of this pure puppy love you have for Eddie until it’s time for you to go. 

Because, for now, you’re happy. And isn’t that what matters most?

You don’t know it, but Eddie’s caught in a similar dilemma.

He waits for you at the bench you meet him at every week, like you’ve done for months now, but he’s filled with an unfamiliar gaiety as he anticipates your arrival.

He’s so goddamn excited to see you that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. It borders on a slight uneasiness that makes him sick to his stomach.

Eddie never gets nervous around customers. Not once, not ever.

He’s dealt to weirdos who live on the wrong side of the track, preppy douchebags that shove him into lockers at school, and pretty cheerleaders who pretend he doesn’t exist outside of dealing.

He’s seen it all, really. But you’re the one that’s got him bouncing his knee something fierce beneath the table and tapping his fingers against the rotted top of it while his heart races a million miles a minute.

He’s frightened of being too overeager. He’s scared that you’ll come here, all cool and collected about all of it, and he’ll be the freak show acting like a pretty girl’s never given him an ounce of attention before. They haven’t, but he’d rather not project that sort of disposition. Not to you, at least.

He guesses, more than anything, he’s just afraid of scaring you away.

So Eddie tries to keep the smile on his face hidden — not knowing that it’s your favorite part about him. He tries to be as stoic as possible. He wants to be this cool and mysterious and sexy guy he thinks you want, having no idea that you’d already fallen in love with him before he even realized he needed to be those things for you. 

He’s just about able to wash away his grin when he sees you emerge from the woods and into the small clearing where the lone picnic table lives. 

The pinky plaid skirt you wear rustles against your legs with the breeze, the pleated edges brushing against the skin of your thighs. You pair it with a white piece of Beatles merch that clings to your torso — and fuck he hates the Beatles, but you’re the prettiest thing his cynical eyes have ever seen.

He’s beaming at you before he even realizes it. And by the time he does, he doesn’t feel like the idiot he thought he would.

You’re both sporting matching grins, trying to hide them and failing miserably. His is pursed softly to the side and yours is pulled between your teeth.

You look like the rays of sunlight filtering through the trees, Eddie thinks to himself. 

His eyes must be the golden of them, you conclude.

When you settle on the bench in front of him, you tuck your skirt neatly beneath you and focus on smoothing out than fabric rather than meet the boy’s gaze. You sport a meek smile and a pair of fidgeting hands that ache to touch him.

“Hi,” you greet sheepishly.

He sees your face scrunch in embarrassment at how shy you sound, and the way you almost reach out for his hand but stop yourself just as quickly. He wishes you wouldn’t. He wishes you knew how perfect you were, even when you weren’t totally graceful.

“Hi,” he repeats with a mocking, but no less loving grin, tilting his head towards his shoulder. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, you know… overworked and underpaid,” you shrug. “Just the usual.”

You’re grateful for the small talk. It leaves little room for the awkwardness swimming in your belly. He doesn’t immediately mention what happened the last time you saw him, like people often do when they want to do it all over again. But he isn’t in a hurry to give you your weed so you’ll leave him alone either. That's what people usually do when they want nothing to do with you anymore.

It’s almost like it never happened. 

Or rather, like it did, and he isn’t treating it like a spectacle.

It’s refreshing.

“Boss giving you a hard time?”

“Oh, always. I’m pretty sure that’s what he gets paid to do, actually.”

“Right,” he breathes out a laugh.

Silence hangs in the air for a moment, just a blink of a second, but it’s noticeable. The sudden quiet floats on the cool breeze that ruffles Eddie’s wild hair and sends a shiver down your spine. 

In a split-second decision, you decide not to deprive yourself of the urge to touch him. Partly to distract from the stillness, but mostly because the ache had reached a fever pitch.

You’re so enthralled by his hands resting upon the old wood — the veins that decorate the back of them like the roots of a tree, the way his fingers thrum to a beat only he can hear, and the rings that wrap around them.

“Is this new?” you wonder aloud. You take his wrist in one hand and trace the glinting silver on his pointer finger with the other. It’s the bony fingers of a skeleton curved to form a heart. He’s taped the sides to make it fit better. It didn’t belong to him before now. 

Eddie watches, pleasantly surprised, as you dote on him. 

Your eyes glitter golden beneath an early setting sun. They dance with amusement as your fingertip traces his heart-shaped ring. He smiles to himself and wonders how often you’re looking at his hands to notice he’s got a new ring on.

“Oh, yeah,” he shrugs. He plays it cool, like his heart isn’t thrumming like a hummingbird in his chest at your touch. “Got it a couple days ago at the thrift store outside of town. It was a whole seventy-five cents.”

“I like it. It’s cute.”

“Cute?” he repeats with a scrunched nose and blushing face.

It makes you giggle. “Yeah. You can be cute and badass at the same time, you know?”

“I didn’t know those were mutually exclusive.”

“They weren’t. Not until you came into the world, Eddie Munson.”

He feels cold when you drag your hand away. The kind, almost teasing grin you flash his way warms him all over again. He’s still trying to get used to being so loved on.

You can see the way he gets lost in you for a moment. His cinnamon-tinted gaze, made golden in the sunlight, glazes over as his head gets stranded in the clouds.

The only reason you notice it is because it happens to you. Eddie makes it so terribly easy to float in the deep galaxy of his eyes. Your heart swells to know that it’s happening to him now. Happening to him because he’s looking at you.

You didn’t know you were the kind of girl people could get lost in.

Eddie clears his throat and shakes his head, mostly to himself, but enough to jostle the soft curls that frame his face and sit above his eyes.

“Well, I’m honored, sweetheart,” he grins his signature grin, the bright and cocky one, though he’s too shy to make it reach his eyes now. He busies himself and his restless fingers by rifling through the product sitting in the tin box at his side — baggies full of green nuggets and white powdery pills. 

“So, uh, what’s on the menu this week? The usual?”

“I’ve still got my stash from last week,” you confess. “Haven’t really had the time to smoke it yet.”

His eyes flit up to yours again. “…Yeah?” is all he can think to say to you because internally he’s buzzing — you didn’t even need weed, he thinks to himself, you just wanted to see him.

You only shrug. “I’ve just been, like, crazy busy this week.”

Eddie nods understandingly, but can’t help but to joke: “Is that why you haven’t called?”

Because, fuck, if the past couple of days without talking to you haven’t been complete and total agony. He knows it’s a little too brash and brave of him to wonder why you went AWOL when he hasn’t exactly made an effort to seek you out either. 

Not for lack of wanting to, though. He’d like to put that on record.

“Well, I didn’t call because I don’t have your number,” you retort with a smile that toes the line between cunning and timidity. “So, you can’t really blame me for that.”

He huffs dramatically. “Guess not.”

“It’s probably for the best. If I could call you, I’d never leave you alone.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d want you to,” he dismisses your negative talk with ease.

You warm with his words and duck your gaze on instinct. You keep your eyes on your hands while you fidget with your fingers, wishing that they were his instead. “Just don’t want to bother you or whatever, you know?”

“You could never bother me.”

“Promise?” you ask him. Your smile is playful, but your words are sincere.

Eddie’s is much of the same. “Cross my heart.”

“How about this — I give you my number and you just call whenever you’re free,” you offer, more confident at the boy’s admission and glowing with it. “‘Cause, you know, Wayne probably wouldn’t appreciate me clogging up the phone line very much.”

“He wouldn’t notice… Or care,” he tells you and pulls out an old pen from his tin box. His sparkling deep brown eyes stay locked on you as you rise from your side of the bench and round the table to sit next to him.

You’re obviously not as nervous as he’d been at the trailer all those nights ago, when he had to practically be beckoned over to realize you wanted him beside you.

You sit opposite him, with your knees pointed away from the bench. You get to be closer to him this way. Your thigh presses against his as you twist towards him, your chest mere inches from his arm, your mouth even closer.

You write a series of numbers on his forearm that Eddie can’t make out because he’s too busy looking at you. He admires the frown between your brows as you struggle to get the ink to write and the way your lips purse to the side in concentration.

“Wayne would actually be pretty stoked I was talking to a girl—” he jokes with a laugh though he’s quick to cut himself off like he’d said something he wasn’t supposed to.

His admission was supposed to be funny, something the rest of Hellfire would’ve laughed at because they know him. But you don’t, and he doesn’t really want you to. You’ve already got this idea of him in your head. He lives in agony that he won’t be able to live up to it.

He’ll just have to fake it, he concludes. Fake it until he doesn’t recognize himself anymore.

Fortunately enough for him, you don’t read into his words too much.

“He wants you to settle down, huh?” you joke back, half-distracted as you doodle a heart onto his skin.

“Wants me to move out, more like.”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate the bed.”

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah, right. That old geezer’s practically in love with his Laz-E-Boy.”

He watches with glimmering eyes as you laugh. Then he’s smiling because you’re smiling. He isn’t sure how else he’s supposed to look at you. How could anyone possibly look at you and not hold so much love in their eyes?

You haven’t yet let go of his arm, he notices, as you cradle his wrist in your grasp and swipe your thumb over the blotchy blue veins there. Your gaze is pointed down to where you hold him. There’s a distant grin on your face as you admire such a minute piece of him.

He wants so badly to kiss you.

He could. All he’d have to do, really, is move his head a couple inches and he’d brush the apple of your cheek. The skin would warm against his lips until he ducked down to kiss you for real. 

And he feels just bold enough to ask you, but not quite enough to say the words out loud. Instead, they sit impatiently on the edge of his tongue while he waits for the right moment to say them. The wind blows, and it passes.

“It wouldn’t be totally crazy if I kissed you right now, would it?” you ask him first, looking at him through your lashes like you’re scared he might reject you.

He glows pink, momentarily stunned that you beat him to the punch, then worried that you might’ve read his mind. He plays it cool with a shrug and a shake of his head. “No… Not unless it’s totally crazy how bad I want you to kiss me right now.”

You don’t waste any time. You gravitate towards him like you were made to do it and he meets you easily halfway.

When your lips lock, it feels like a routine. Kissing you is like a cup of coffee and the morning paper and a rocking chair on a front porch — something he could do forever and ever and not get bored of.

You kiss him so soft, more gentle than anyone’s ever been with him, but your tongue swipes into his open mouth, and it’s dirty. 

Eddie still isn’t sure how a person could touch him the way you do. You’re all sweet, like you’re frightened you might break him, but you aren’t scared to kiss him like he’s yours.

As good as it feels to have him against you this way, the position you’re in isn’t any less awkward. Your upper-half is still twisted to face him and he has to lean slightly over to touch you completely.

He explores the cavern of your mouth with a more confident tongue than you remember him having while ten ringed fingers press into your ribs. 

Eddie can feel your mouth contort in a smile. He thinks it’s because he’s tickling you, but you’re just in love and totally giddy with it.

The wooden edge of the bench digs into your spine. The ache distracts you from feeling him the way you want to — the way you need to — so you make a split-second decision to rise from your seat and rest your bottom on the table.

Your lips click wetly, almost out of protest, when they part.

You use the palms of your hands to lift you and prop your sneakers on the bench seat when you sit down again. You wait patiently for Eddie to accommodate you, to rise and keep kissing you the way he was just kissing you. 

He does. Eventually.

He just needed a few moments to gather himself when your new position flashes him the faintest glimpse of your panties — all black and dotted with little red hearts that have started to fade with time.

His eyes widen and he everts his gaze immediately. His cheeks and the tip of his nose go red, like he’d been caught looking at something he wasn’t supposed to be looking at. It’s sort of stupid. You were getting off on his thigh some days ago, and now you’re kissing him like you mean to swallow him whole, surely you wouldn’t mind him peeking.

If he were someone totally different, he might’ve spread your legs, dug his fingers into the fat of your thighs, and put his mouth on you like he wanted to do three nights ago — like he’s been wanting to do for ages.

But he doesn’t.

He just sits there, for what feels like forever, feeling like a total idiot.

But if you notice his hesitancy, you don’t show it. You just cup his warm cheeks in your hands and drag him up to you. Eddie isn’t enough of a dumbass to reject your affections.

He happily melts into your touch once more while the both of you maneuver like a bunch of lovesick teenagers around the bench — rather than just part momentarily to move more efficiently.

You round the table so you’re propped on the outside of it and Eddie’s no longer confined in the seat. If making out and multitasking was an olympic sport, you and Eddie would take the gold, no doubt.

It’s hopelessly high school, the way you make out like teenagers in some clearing, known only to Eddie’s most loyal customers and a golden orange sky. 

It feels rebellious and raunchy, like you’ve just snuck out of Mr. Kaminsky’s lecture on chemical bonds to fuck under the bleachers. You kiss each other and it feels like you’re doing something so much more than yourselves.

Eddie touches you and you feel like a kid again. Everything’s just new experiences and stomachs full of butterflies — heartache is virtually nonexistent. 

As far as you’re concerned, you’ve never been kissed before now. 

You had no idea someone could hold so much love in their mouth and then kiss you with it. You’re so used to tongue and teeth and spit, not these slow and sweet pecks that feel like white clouds and summer rain.

Every now and then, Eddie will slot his kiss-bitten bottom lip between the plush of your swollen mouth. And he’ll just stay there, for several long moments, just to feel you. His ringed fingers rise to cradle your jaw to keep you against him. His nose knocks against the bridge of yours and his heavy breaths fan against your cupid’s bow.

You’re not sure why he does this, why he chooses to be so soft with you when he knows he could have you however he wants. You’re a kitten purring against his chest now, all pliable and willing for him, but he just likes how still and soft you are like this.

You let him kiss you the way he likes. You notice he takes acute infatuation with your bottom lip, biting softly and pulling at the skin until it’s a plump pink thing for him to suck into his mouth.

Every swipe of his tongue against yours is experimental and methodical. He finds what makes you exhale the heaviest moans and keeps doing that until you’re a puddle of a woman in his hands.

Oh, god. His hands.

It’s almost unfair how kind they are. 

One keeps a steady, warm hold on your cheek. He can feel the way you start to soften as you lean more and more into his touch. The other has fallen to your thigh. His fingertips settle beneath the skirt you picked out specifically for him, but don’t move any further than that.

He just likes the feel of you, it seems, as he pets the softness of your skin. Occasionally, he’ll squeeze and marvel at the feeling of your thigh in his grasp and the way it makes you moan against him. The feeling of his silver rings against you makes chill bumps erupt on your skin.

You’re unsure if he knows the effect he has on you. Surely, he must, you figure — just days ago you were falling apart on his thigh and here you are now, willing to do it all over again. 

He touches you like he knows. Like he takes pleasure in teasing you until you’re all but begging for more. And you’re not the least bit ashamed to do it, either. His touch, his hand down your panties, it isn’t a want — it’s a need.

You take Eddie’s wrist in your impatient hand, moving his palm further and further beneath your skirt until it’s pressed against the dampening cotton of your underwear. “Touch me, Eds,” you plead against his mouth, already breathless.

The boy tenses.

It’s a dream come true in the most literal sense, to feel you like this. You cling to his consciousness wherever he goes. You’ve spent so many nights plaguing his dreams that they’ve started to feel like nightmares. He’d wake up in the middle of the night, achingly hard and shuddering with cold sweats at the mere thought that he’d never get to have you the way he always dreamt of having you. 

But it’s here now, lying beneath a heart-patterned cloth, and he doesn’t know what to do with it. 

He’s not scared of you exactly, just of everything else. 

His hand has never gotten anyone off but himself. He’s scared that he won’t make you feel good, or worse, that he’ll hurt you — he’s scared of himself. He’s terrified of losing you and you’re not even his. 

It’s everything else that frightens him, but not you. Not when you’ve got your legs spread out before him and begging him to touch you. Not when you act like you want to be his.

Rather than deprive himself of the dream of you, Eddie decides to hook his pointer finger around the hem of your panties and slide them to the side.

With your pussy concealed by the pleated skirt you wear, he’s forced to work blindly while he touches you. He doesn’t mind, though. He takes the opportunity to feel you as it’s presented to him on a silver platter — the softness of your lips, the trimmed mound of hair above them, the slick coating your warmed skin.

You feel like silk and velvet. A material that’s far too expensive to touch. It makes him feel like he’s ruining you in some way.

Eddie’s open-mouthed, heavy breaths fan against your lips, all nicotine and mint gum. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of him — billowing across your jaw, pressed between your thighs, fingers treating your pussy like it’s a piece of delicate art.

“More,” you beg in a dream-coated sigh and spread yourself further for him. You’ve got one hand twisted in his leather jacket and the other flipping up the skirt of your dress, putting yourself on display for him — a piece of delicate art indeed.

You’re laid out before him, all at once, bare and glistening with need. 

He’s seen plenty of vaginas in his time, usually photographed in a centerfold of a magazine or half-blurry through a botched VHS tape. But, for obvious reasons, you’re quite different. 

You’re beautiful. The kind of beauty that men would’ve fallen on their swords for a time ago, the kind you’re lucky to see in a lifetime. That’s a bit what it feels like to look at you. He looks at you, and he sees a cotton candy sunset over mountains that touch the clouds or clear blue waters that go on for infinity.

Even like this, with your pussy on display for him — in a moment that’s supposed to be dirty — it’s a serene sort of beautiful. You need to be hung up in a museum, Eddie thinks to himself, in the Louvre or some shit — because a freak show from the middle of nowhere shouldn’t get to just have you like this.

He slots his middle finger between your lips, for once not overthinking when the urge to feel you takes over. You soak his appendage with ease, the slick only adding to your softness. He dips down to the dimple of your opening and rises to the peak of your swelling clit. He notices how it makes you twitch against him. 

It feels like being you’re touched for the first time. Unfolded and cherished like some sort of expensive gift. You’re not used to this sort of tenderness. No one’s taken things this slow with you before. The way he’s making you feel good is for him just as much as it is for you. It’s unfamiliarly blissful to be handled with so much care.

Eddie watches with heavy and attentive eyes as your head tips back, like you’re starting to drown in your own pleasure and unbothered to keep yourself afloat. Your contented sighs and gentle tremors spur him forward. Those subtle praises almost equal the pleas that spill from your kissed mouth. 

It makes him stop worrying about how to do all this without being totally obvious that he’s never done any of it before.

Everything he knows, he’s gotten from poorly produced porn. He doesn’t want to treat you like that. Like you’re some toy or plaything or a game to be won. He wants to take things slow and treat you right because it’s becoming more and more obvious to him that no one’s ever done that for you.

He’ll be your first, if you’ll be his.

He finds himself grateful for how responsive you are. He doesn’t need to know everything there is to know about sex or ask you for direction like an idiot because your pussy tells him what to do. 

You tremble every time the pad of his finger swipes against your clit. He can feel you clench around nothing every time he dips towards your opening, as if in a silent plea. You tell him what you like without saying anything, but rather by drenching him in clear-coated honey.

His eyes have trouble flitting away from your pleasure-ridden face and down to where he coaxes you open. His finger glistens with your wetness. Beneath a setting sun, it looks like the sparkling rays over an ocean.

“Fuck,” he huffs, almost moaning. “You’re so fucking wet.”

“Sorry…” you mutter meekly.

“What?” Eddie finds himself laughing softly, brows furrowing in confusion at your sudden embarrassment. That’s not the response he was expecting. “Why are you apologizing?”

Your skin burns hot at his question — no longer warmed from pleasure, but out of pure self-consciousness. It’s a conversation you’re used to now, but it hasn’t gotten any easier. With his finger still caught in your drenched pussy, you find it suddenly hard to meet his gaze and instead peer at him through your lashes.

“I don’t know,” you murmur. “Some guys think it’s gross… And messy—”

“Screw ‘em,” he blurts. His brown eyes twinkle with a newfound confidence, not one of the unabashed metalhead drug dealer, but one of a boy whose head over heels for a girl who doesn’t know what it means to be truly cared for. “It’s sexy,” he assures you.

A shy smile hints at the corners of your lips, innocently comforted by the promise and pleased by the compliment. “Really?”

“I promise, sweetheart,” he tells you with a wholehearted nod. He means it more than anything he’s ever said. “Cross my goddamn heart.”

He leans in to press his lips against yours then, just because it feels right to, and you graciously accept his affection. 

Eddie’s kisses come in innocent, loving pecks that are far too sweet in comparison to the way he’s making you feel. His finger traces the slick gathering at your opening, not having to force his way in because your pussy is more than wanting.

Both of you let out low moans when he’s finally inside of you. He doesn’t stop until the silver of his ring is pressed into the outside of your pussy.

You’re wrapped around him like velvet, warm and tight velvet that won’t let him go. He works hard to find a steady rhythm that you like and watches your every reaction intently.

You’ve got your lip dragged between your teeth, biting so hard that the fragile skin has started to blanch. Your eyes have fluttered slowly shut with a frown forming between your brows in a vague concentration as you focus on your own pleasure.

You seem to like it most when he’s crooking his finger rather than thrusting them inside of you. At least, that’s what he assumes, as he reaches a much softer spot within you that makes you jolt against him.

Your hand darts to his wrist, not to tug him away or pull him any closer, just to tether yourself to him.

“Can you— fuck—” you sputter when the palm of his hand bumps against your clit. “Can you add another finger? Please?”

You’re all whiny and breathy like you’re begging him, like there’s any chance he might deny you. Eddie’s not exactly in the business of saying no to you. 

He slides his ring finger in with his middle. He marvels at how snugly they fit inside you and how the sticky nectar coats his skin. Your wetness has gathered around his silver rings, including the one with the skeleton hand you were complimenting earlier.

He doesn’t ever want to wash them again... Not that he ever did in the first place, but he makes a vow not to start now.

Eddie doesn’t know it, but this is the part where you usually get embarrassed. Sometimes you think you’re too sensitive, too responsive. You’ve found that there’s a threshold between being sexy and being needy that most guys tend to enjoy. But, for you, it's a finicky thing and you find yourself crossing it before you realize it.

You moan too loud, talk too much, whine too often. Nearly everyone you’ve ever been with has said so in some way or another — mostly in gentle approaches that are observations more than anything. But some boys aren’t so nice. They say that you get too turned on, the wetness coating your pussy is evidence of that, and they tell you that’s it’s gross.

But here, now, with Eddie, there’s little room for embarrassment.

He tells you that you’re pretty, swears up and down that the way your slick trickles down his fingers is sexy. And for the first time in your life, you find yourself actually believing someone who tells you that.

You let him pry you open with slow and meticulous touches. You can feel his bent fingers deep inside you, exploring the slick velvet of your walls, and rubbing at the spot that makes you keen. It’s got your back arching and thighs trembling by his waist, toes curling inside your sneakers while you keep a tight grip on his wrist.

“Rub my clit, Eds,” you plead breathlessly with your eyes shut tight. You’re about to come, you can feel the tightening coil in the pit of your belly, you just need a little bit more. “Please, Eddie— please, touch my clit—”

He’s hasty in his attempts to comply to your request. He barely lets the words leave your mouth before he presses the pad of his thumb just above the hood of your clit. And it doesn’t feel bad per se, it actually feels pretty damn good, it’s just not where you need him most.

It’s not the first time a guy’s had trouble finding your clit and you figure it won’t be the last, so you opt guide him with a helping hand. You maneuver his thumb until it’s pressed snuggly against your swollen button. 

Eddie watches attentively as it makes you whine. You arch your back, pressing yourself further against him, as a moan rises from the depths of your chest and spills out of your mouth. You pull him somehow closer by the lapel of his jacket. 

He takes every unspoken criticism to heart, along with every one of your wordless praises. His acute attention to what you like the most — how his thumb on your clit makes you clench around him, how you moan every time he rubs against that foreign spongy spot inside of you, and how he keeps on doing that because he can tell that you like it — sends you to an otherworldly place pleasure.

It’s different from guys that are just good from experience. Most do the same old shit that gets their girl off because they know they’ll get off in the end, too.

Eddie’s attentiveness is unfamiliar and spellbinding, all-consuming and unavoidable. A pleasure you’re both chasing and wanting to run away from out of fear it might be too much.

“Is this okay?” he whispers to you, breath fanning across your cheek.

You nod wordlessly in reply, with your lip caught between your teeth as you fight to bite back the cry building in your throat. It’s hard to when he’s so intently hitting every spot that makes you dizzy. The moan that inevitably spills from your mouth sounds wet, like you might really start to cry.

“Fuck,” you wail when your stomach tenses. His fingers, deep in the confines of your pussy and rubbing at your clit, are relentless. Pleasure’s biting at your ankles now and you have no way to stop it from swallowing you whole. “Feels so good, Eds—”

Your mouth hangs open as you drop your head down to watch him work you open.

His ringed fingers are coated with you, a sheen of honey that drips down his fingers and onto the silver wrapped around them. You’re hopelessly spread open for him, your pussy blooming like a flower at the promise of springtime for the boy, and then tightening around him to keep him trapped inside you.

It’s dirty, like a lewd piece of art that you can’t help but gawk out.

You fight to keep your heavy eyes open. You want to watch what he’s doing to you, but it’s a harder feat than you could’ve ever imagined. Pleasure rises so violently in you. You’re frightened you might burst entirely.

“I’m gonna come,” you whimper. It’s a warning to you but for him, it’s a promise. Your head tilts back again, face scrunched in a gentle sort of horror, like you’re scared at how good you feel. “Please don’t stop. Oh my god, Eds— Please don’t stop. Please, please, please—”

Eddie presses a gentle kiss to the buzzing skin of your cheek. He whispers his slurred promises there, too. “I’m not gonna stop, sweetheart. Not gonna stop until you want me to, ‘kay? Not until you’re pushing me away. Wanna make you come so many times you can’t take it—”

You clenched around him at his words. His fingers, trapped in your velvet, struggle to move within you as you tighten. The thumb on your clit works you through your orgasm.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent moan while your hand grips his wrist something fierce. Pleasure builds and builds and builds, striking you like lightning so suddenly, and reducing you to a shuddering mess on the picnic table in front of him.

“There you go,” Eddie whispers in your ear through his own trembling breaths. “Yeah, keep going for me— keep coming.”

You comply.

You don’t have much of a choice in the matter, anyway.

Your orgasm runs over you like a dozen fucking freight trains. You’re caught in your own riptide of pleasure, drowning in it with no way of getting out. With no choice but to endure it, you whine and writhe against him while his hand stays trapped between your trembling thighs. It forces you to feel all of it until you can’t take it anymore. Just like he promised.

The pleasure passes. The vice-like grip your pussy had on his fingers lessens. The high fades. But Eddie keeps going. You don’t feel much of it at first, still pleasantly numb and buzzing, then you realize how sensitive you are.

He crooks his fingers faster, rubbing against the swollen spot inside you, while the pad of his thumb presses steadily against your clit.

You’re sloppy and wet and still gushing from the fading orgasm. A second one wouldn’t be too hard to reach, not with Eddie touching you the way he is just now, but you’re scared that it might be too much.

The I can barely see, we need to lay down a towel, hold me while I float into subspace sort of too much.

“Mm-mm,” you hum softly in protest, twitching against him while you squeeze his wrist. You feel his fingers still within you.

A lazy smile plays on your lips as you tilt your face towards an orange sun, all fucked out and beautiful. Eddie could stare at you for ages and find something new to love.

“No more. I need… Need a break.”

You shudder when his fingers drag slowly out of you, trying hard not to jostle you too much. The pads of them have started to prune slightly. His ring and middle finger stick together with a mixture of your come, he separates them to watch your honey stretch and break apart. 

He doesn’t know what to do with them. If he should wipe them on his jeans, or if that would be too barbaric of him. If he should stick them in his mouth to finally get a taste of you, or if you might think that’s too much.

You beat him to the punch, just like you always do, as you grab him by the wrist and bring his fingers to your mouth. Your eyes are still half-closed as you run your tongue over his skin, sucking at them like they were his cock — god, he wishes it were his cock.

He watches you with his own heavy gaze and an agape plump pink mouth, stunned at how you could do something so sexy without thinking. He has no idea how you manage to find ways to become more beautiful just when he thinks you’ve run out.

When you pull off of him, you do it all slow, like you’re teasing him. A soft, wet pop sounds when your lips leave his fingers. You smile like a fucking minx at him when you do.

“Was that— Was that good for you?” Eddie asks you with a nervous, doe-eyed chocolate button gaze. You’re unsure how he could make you feel so good and then worry that it still wasn’t enough.

“It was perfect, Eds,” you promise, then joke: “If you don’t believe me… believe the wet spot you made me leave on this fucking table.”

It makes both of you laugh like a pair of lovesick idiots. 

Your hands rise to his jaws, fingers getting lost in his wild curls as you drag him to you again.

He keeps a pair of steady hands on your hips as you lick hungrily into his mouth, kissing him like you haven’t gotten tired of kissing him yet. And when you part, you leave one, two, three more pecks against his lips.

“So… This is what you came out here for, huh?” Eddie jokes with his signature stupid grin that you want to kiss all over again. “You didn’t even want the weed, you just wanted to use me. I’m wounded, sweetheart. Truly.”

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “Came out here to see you… This part was just a bonus.”

He happily accepts the kiss you give him, though he tenses against you when your hands travel from his jaw and to his chest, trickling down his torso like drops of rain until they rest on his belt. 

“Something tells me you don’t mind either way,” you murmur against him when your palm settles against his hard cock trapped in his tight jeans.

He can hardly hear you, though, too trapped in his own head. 

He can’t fuck you out here, not like this.

Maybe it’s too stereotypical for a virgin, but he wants his first time with you to be on a real bed and not some bench that threatens you with splinters. He wants to wine and dine you, and treat you right like he’s supposed to, not fuck you in the middle of nowhere like you’re a plaything he can do whatever he wants with.

But he doesn’t know how to tell you all this, so he parts from you with a wet click and shakes his head. “You don’t— You don’t have to—”

“I want to, Eds,” you assure him. “I promise.”

“I can’t… I mean, I guess, I’m not really…” he stammers out. He has no idea what to say to you, totally at a loss of how to turn you down. The way you clutch his covered dick, make his toes curl in his sneakers and his brain go all stupid, doesn’t exactly help either.

“What?” you tease with a light-hearted chuckle as you squeeze his rock-solid cock through the denim. “Not really hard?”

“No, it’s just…” he breathes out a laugh, or rather tries to.

He watches with wide and frightened eyes as you work at his belt buckle, struggling to unfasten it without his assistance. There’s a tug-of-war playing in his brain right now, because he wants you — he wants you so bad — but not like this.

Not when he hasn’t been completely honest with you.

It’s not fair to either of you. 

Least of all when he has to turn you away without explaining why.

“I don’t think we— we really shouldn’t,” he tries to let you down easy, but to you it just sounds like he’s being coy, playing with you so you’ll beg to suck his cock. And you keep on going because you’re not totally above that. “No, really. I can’t— seriously, stop. We need to stop.”

The sudden firmness in his voice makes you still. Eddie’s never talked to you like that before. The stern, foreign words he spits at you tells you that he’s serious.

You jerk away from him like he’s burned you.

Embarrassment sets fire to your face.

“Sorry. I just— I thought that— I just wanted to return the favor,” you stammer out in an apology, frightened you’ve crossed a line with him.

No one’s ever turned down a blowjob from you before. Most times, that’s all guys want.

“No, yeah, I know,” Eddie nods understandingly when he sees how you’ve started to shrink into yourself. He steps back from you and tucks his belt back through the loop of his jeans “I just… I— I have more customers coming… And everything, so…”

“Right.”

“Yeah. And I don’t really, you know— I don’t want them to see…” he trails off with a shrug because that’s easier than saying, I don’t want them to see you sucking my dick. No one deserves to see you like that. That’s for my eyes only.

It would’ve been something short of a compliment had he said it out loud. You would’ve blushed with a shy, cheeky smile — “For your eyes only, huh?” you would’ve teased like you weren’t enlightened by the prospect of belonging to him and him only.

But because he doesn’t say that, you take on a whole other meaning to his words. I don’t want them to see me with the town whore, you can imagine him thinking. I might be the freak, but being associated with the slut would be a whole new low. 

Maybe it’s irrational thinking, but it wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened to you. The fear has turned into a full-blown phobia.

You’ve made a boogeyman out of the clothes in your closet because you’re so frightened of him leaving you. And he doesn’t even fucking belong to you.

“Right,” you echo with a nod. “Okay.”

You find it suddenly hard to meet his gaze as you slip off the bench, sliding your panties back into place before pulling your skirt down again.

You’re so deep in your own head, wallowing in your woe, that when Eddie leans down to kiss you, you jerk away from on instinct. Like your body’s telling you not to play with fire, something that’s destined to burn you.

Because Eddie can’t ever belong to you. In some ways, you can’t really belong to him either, not when you’ve belonged to half of Hawkins.

But your wordless rejection sends a shock to his heart, a bolt of blue that pierces the beating organ. Your denial feels like heartbreak and you can see the anguish coat his features. He looks at you look a wounded puppy, glassy eyes going wide and thick brows frowning softly as he wonders what he did so wrong.

You kiss him anyway, if only to tell him that he didn’t do anything wrong — that it’s all you and your stupid brain that won’t let you enjoy a good thing while you’ve got it. It’s the briefest little peck, a brush of your lips against his, and it has his mouth tingling anyway.

“I’ll call you later?” he says to you, though it comes out as more of a question than he intended it to.

You shrug with pursed lips, then try your best to smile. “Whatever you want.”

Eddie watches you walk away and feels like an idiot to let you go. 

He can tell that he’s upset you. You’ve had too many shitty experiences with guys not to be weary of another, and he knows that.

But he also knows he’s a total fucking coward — he’s always ran away from things, never towards something. Because that shit? — That shit was fucking scary, even for a so-called devil-worshipping freak.

But he finds himself hurrying towards you anyway.

His raggedy sneakers practically float on air as something short of muscle memory carries him towards you before you can get too far away.

And when he reaches you, he takes you by the arm, spins you and pulls you towards him. You barely get the chance to blink before he presses his mouth against yours.

He cradles you by the neck, resting large palms on either side of it, as he slots his lips against yours. And he does that thing where he just rests his kiss there, just feels you. 

Eddie notices when you relax against him. You sigh against his cupid’s bow, your hands fall to his waist, and you melt totally into him. Your lips untangle slowly and tingle when he parts from you. You know you’ll be feeling him there all night… there and everywhere else.

“I’m gonna call you later,” he tells you, voice confident and unwavering.

He hopes you understand what he really means by them — whatever you want, you’d said when you saw how unsure he was. And now he’s telling you what he wants, not to make some stupid phone call, but that he wants you.

He can tell you get the hint when you smile at him. It looks like the pinky-orange sunset that bathes you in warm-colored hues. 

You nod. “I’ll be waiting.”

have any more virgin!eddie thoughts? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

[icycoldninja]

hey so i was thinking: Sparda Boys and V with a writer S/O? take as long as you need to with this (writer's block is kicking my ass rn sadly but) , i don't really mind

Hey I feel that bro, enjoy and hopefully your inspiration will return to you 💜

Sparda Boys + V x Writer!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-He's not a scholar and knows next to nothing about books since he rarely reads, but if his sweetheart is writing stuff, by God, he will read whatever they put out there.

-Uses you as a human dictionary whenever he comes across new words, not understanding that that's not the purpose of a writer.

-"Hey babe, what's this word?"

"What word?"

"Uhh...Ink-Can-Dress-Ant."

"What?"

"Ink-can-dress-ant, I think that's how you say it."

"How's it spelled?"

"I-N-C-A-N-D-E-S-C-E-N-T."

"Incandescent, Dante, not ink-can-dress-ant."

-He'll be the first to read your work and is very proud of this fact. He, Dante, the Legendary Devil Hunter, is also your private beta reader. Awesome.

-Oddly enough, him reading all your works results in him developing a larger vocabulary--something that shocked everyone, especially Vergil.

-Congratulations! Thanks to you, Dante can use big words now!

■ Vergil ■

-You, a writer, are dating Vergil, the biggest bookworm on the planet? You are now Vergil's goddess.

-He wants to read everything, regardless of its quality. He'll visually devour all the words off the page, absorbing every word.

-You two now have yet another topic to nerd out about; you can spend hours chatting about books, writing techniques, and so on.

-Vergil is filled with a sense of pride whenever he reads your published writing; it pleases him so much to know you're growing your talents.

-He has an entire bookshelf dedicated to your books and takes special care of these books. They're more than just words on pages bound by cardboard and leather; they're treasures.

-Will take up writing as well, just so he can be closer to you.

□ Nero □

-Nero is not a bookworm by any sense of the word; he's read a few books in his time, but he's more combat oriented.

-Doesn't mind being a beta reader for anything you write.

-Your works have inspired him to take up reading again, and in doing so, he unleashes his inner book nerd. Like father, like son.

-He's always looking forward to whatever you write, and when you get writers block (as we all do) he'll take you out to a park, or a peaceful lake, in the hopes that the natural beauty of your surroundings might restore your creative juices.

-He, too, has a collection of all your works and keeps them proudly on display on a nice bookshelf in his house.

-Encourages you daily to keep writing because now he's addicted to reading your work. You really have changed him.

● V ●

-Oh congratulations, you've found yourself a soul mate.

-V loves to read (he totes his copy of William Blake poetry around and reads from it all the time, even in the middle of battle) and is more than happy to read your books.

-V is also a writer himself; he writes poetry, as we know. Because of this, he understands more than anyone the pain of writer's block and knows just what to do about it.

-He'll arrange for a relaxing movie/reading night, which in his experience, helps restore your creativity.

-If that doesn't work, Griffon's loud mouth and wise-guy (yet funny) jokes will take your mind off of things.

-V understands literature and knows all sorts of obscure things about famous literary figures; so much so that you two can converse for hours on end just gabbing away about books, their authors, and other interesting tidbits of knowledge.

[comicaurora]

These have been pent up for a while, so there's a whole list lol. Some are Aurora, some are not.

1) Can lacrimas carry out multiple purposes at once? Or will they blend them? I'm assuming that this is possible, considering that the automaton in the ruins was using a lacrima as a brain

2) Has anyone tried to make tools or weapons out of lacrimas? I'm talking like chisel that needs no hammer. Or maybe a Fire lacrima on a bow that sets your arrows on fire

3) Can you engrave runes on lacrimas to make them affect themselves?

4) Where can I read more about the Twins? If I'm not wrong they're the creator gods, aided by the Light dragon and the Void dragon to create life, but I might be getting a wrong read on that

5) Since we see Erin successfully become the first Void mage, does that now mean there's potential for him to make a Void lacrima? The dragon probably won't allow it, but still

6) What exactly does elemental corruption of each element do? Fire literally burns you up, as we saw in Arc 1. I can infer that Life likely makes you a chimera. Void corruption makes you a cave crawler. But what do the other one do? Does Earth make you a statue? Does Wind disintegrate you, Thanos style?

7) Now onto the non-Aurora questions, is your art vector or raster? I believe it's vector, but it's always better to confirm

8) What are your opinions on reading into the environment and the character design to infer things about the character themselves? In any type of media

9) Have you played Baldur's Gate 3?

10) Do you have any music that you'd recommend? I've listened to every song I liked so many times that I hate them now.

11) I'm new to Tumblr, anything that I should know? You don't have to answer this one if you don't wanna. I think I know some of the basics already. Reblog what you like, and avoid the terfs, right?

You might be able to tell that I like the idea of the lacrimas a little bit. Just a teensy bit. The artificer in me definitely isn't obsessed. I appreciate any answers you can give :3

Cheers!

Ooh, lots of stuff!

Yes, it's possible. A lacrima can be engraved with multiple spells, set in a casing engraved with commands, or some combination of the two. Typically, all spells engraved directly on a lacrima will activate at once when the lacrima is "switched on", but a spell can be quite complex, and conditional activations are possible - "if-then-else" statements, basically.

Yes, magic items exist.

Generally no. If the lacrima is disrupted or broken, the spell generally stops functioning, so a self-affecting lacrima will run only as long as it takes for the lacrima to distort or break.

There's an extra lore page about them!

He probably could if he wanted to (and the Dragon allowed it) but Void energy is very dangerous, so he likely doesn't want to.

Each form of elemental corruption agitates the presence of the element in the mage's body. Earth corruption can damage or alter bones, encourage unhealthy petrification of soft tissues, etc. Wind corruption can have physical effects but it often most obviously produces breakdowns in the person's ability to speak or understand language. Lightning damages, numbs or intensifies a person's physical senses.

Raster, I draw with CSP's digital pens. I've only very briefly experimented with vector art - I don't like how it simplifies the lines.

I think it's a fun school of analysis but, like all literary analysis, it runs into trouble if it tries to lock down exactly what the writer was thinking or intending (which is an objective fact that one can be incorrect about) rather than trying to analyze the story on its own and what meaning might, intentionally or unintentionally, be factoring into it.

Nope

don't trust my taste in music it's 90% nu metal and sonic OSTs

Like what you like, reblog what you want, generally it's considered dubious form to add a comment to a reblog unless you have something profound to contribute (commenting in the tags is fine), steer clear of discourse and callout posts and generally the sectors of the site that are constantly on fire, blocking someone for any reason is 100% fine

[inkskinned]

hey it's nanowrimo. i have tips bc i've done it about 34 times.

Don't edit. Ever. Stop it. If you just decide to start a new project half thru this one with all new characters, no problem. pick up and keep writing as if you'd already written the first half of that.

"but i spelled it wrong" whatever. "but the grammar" whatever. make it exist first. no time for sense. think like you're working on a typewriter. no backspace. only forward go.

Don't re-read further than a paragraph or two backwards. "did i mention the gun before?" listen - it doesn't matter. if you need there to be a gun there, the gun is there. put it back in once you finish the book.

"i forgot the specifics of X thing i already wrote" whatever. change it, make a note/comment to figure it out later, and just write what makes sense for the moment. "no raquel it's legit the characters name and origin" idc that character is now reborn as Claudius from Elsewhere. it's fine.

only you see your mistakes. nobody else knows. one of the ways writing and dance overlap - only you know the choreography. nobody else will know if you miss a step, so just keep dancing and pretend you meant to do it like that.

it's an illusion that you need to write linearly - from point A to point B to point C. Nah; that's just timeline propaganda. I've written a LOT of books out of order and just reordered them once i've finished. if you have a scene you'd LOVE to write but can't get there yet because of plot, just fuckin write the scene. I've always found its easier to establish "point F" "point J" and "Point A" and then wiggle my way between those scenes.

write what you WANT to write. 230 pages of smut? of well-researched discussion on bread? whatever. the point is to strengthen muscles however you can.

if you miss a day, a week, whatever. not the end of the world. we all have dry days. also time is a myth so u can do this challenge whenever u want.

as soon as you try to write for a specific audience, you kill your voice. you are writing for yourself. stop thinking about how people will take ur book. it don't matter. what matter is u, enjoying writing. i luv u.

play to your strengths. i have characters talk so much because i don't know how to write a plot if it kills me but i'm really good at dialogue so.

i love a flight of fancy. write a poem in there. shift tactics and write in code. keep it fun for yourself.

see what happens if you shift something major about ur main characters - gender, wealth, superpowers. or if you change point-of-view. or if you kill everyone in a big explosion. do NOT edit anything before this or after it. often these little weird one-off exercises teach me what interests me about what i'm working on. it is never what i thought. plus it is a fun way to add like 1k words.

stretch.

it's for fun and for practice. stop doing that project if it's giving you anxiety. once my nano was literally 50k words of half-started stories. just things i tried and tried and tried and wasn't able to flesh out. oops. but i am now 50k words of a better writer.

add dragons?

read books/listen to books on tape/etc. people often make the mistake of "buckling down" to just write. you need inspiration. you need to like. fill up on words. you need to remember how it feels to lose yourself in a story.

i don't have the time or space to really talk about this in this post but a lot of creative people turn to drugs/alcohol because it can help you be more creative. this is harmful, and walking a blade that only cuts deep. if you notice you and your loved ones are turning more to substances, please know i love you and i hope you are able to get help soon. i feel like this almost never gets mentioned because it's kind of a hazy underbelly to art. you are always more important than the work.

on that note. drink your fukin. water.

don't talk about a story until you've finished it. once you tell the story, it exists already, and isn't about discovery. i usually have a very canned "haha we'll see" response.

grapes :) tasty snack.

i love you be free.

[fashion-foxy]

You know something that's odd to me? How weirdly the child of the Beauty and the Beast get handled in media. (Obviously, my only examples are EAH and Descendants, but walk with me on this.)

The Beauty is someone who will, for better or for worse, always see the best in everyone. They are kind and good-natured but is usually someone who still holds people accountable for their actions and intentions, not what the Beauty thinks their intentions are.

The Beast is someone who typically does not look past the surface level of a person out of stupidity or willful ignorance. The Beast is also very selfish ,closed-minded , and stubborn. Unfortunately , that means in retellings, the Beast is the only one to go a character arc, and the Beauty comes off as judgmental or too forgiving.

Both characters being foils means that it could be a bit challenging to portray a character that is a result of both of those personalities, but if done right, it creates a very interesting character!

So, what did EAH and Descendants do with what they were given?!

Well, for starters, a bad job, but you already knew that. Let's take a look at Rosabella Beauty and Benjamin Florian No Last Name Given. (Idk most Descendants characters don't have last names)

Rosabella is judgemental, which could definitely actually be a super cool thing that she got from her dad, but based off the fact that she didn't go on an arc and it didn't get presented as a character flaw, I suspect this was accidental. Which is real shame. It would've been a really cool concept to explore Rosabella actually being the Beast.

She is also, by not getting any meaningful character development, giving off major 'I could fix him' vibes with Daring. Except, she's ignoring what's actually wrong in his life and looking at surface level interpretations of what she thinks he's like. Then, deciding he's a self-centered narcissist who she needs to fix so he meets her standards. Hey, wait a spell. She kind of seems to embody more of the Beast characteristics than the Beauty's. I wonder if the writers might have had other plans but were forced to change her into something else or perhaps Mattel wanted to sell a doll of her and Daring so they had to awkwardly force a relationship and not use their original plans?

Ben is way too forgiving. When we first see him, he says that he wants to give the Isle kids (kids who were born to villians who've been trapped in a magic prison all their life) a chance at a normal life, which is great! It's probably one of the best things a 16 year old king could do. So when's the next time he forgives someone? When he tells Mal that he knows she drugged him. So, it's at this point where you kinda realize that he isn't being too forgiving he's trapped in an abusive relationship. Once he sees that Mal realizes the implications of that, he goes back on it, and he tells her that it's not that big of a deal that it's ok that he still loves her.

When's the next time something like this happens? When Mal tries to erase some of his memories after catching her lying about using magic. He obviously yells at her because that's a fucked up thing to do. She downplays the situation and makes excuses. Shortly after, she runs back to the Isle. Ben, assuming that she had the best intentions, blames himself and ultimately gets kidnapped and then drugged again. All of these interactions are all portrayed as 'his fault' and that he'd deserved everything that happened to him because he was holding Mal responsible for her actions. In the third movie, he even stops doing it. Hades asks him why an Auradon kid gets to be excused and why everyone on the Isle doesn't, and he looks at Mal but ignores the question. Mal doesn't answer because she's the reason this Auradon person (Audrey) is hurt because she ruined her life and is currently being excused by everyone, including the writers, but Audrey won't. Ben definitely won't.

So, aren't these the best portrayals of the Beauty and the Beast characteristics? Because mixing the traits incorrectly. If Ben was given more Beast characteristics than just roaring sometimes. Mal wouldn't be abusive if their were actually moments where Ben was being unreasonable and too quick to draw surface level conclusions.

Rosabella wouldn't come off as rude and judgemental if she was given more Beauty characteristics. If Daring was actually self-centered and Rosabella considered others and thought about others instead of drawing conclusions.

[lemonhemlock]

The thing that's getting lost in the weeds when it comes to talking about being a book purist vs. a show HOTD fan is that the main issues, imo, aren't necessarily the departures from the text, it's the REASONS why Condall and Hess made those departures. Maelor not being included, and having Helaena have a Sophie's choice moment between the twins would have been fine if they also kept all the other details in Blood and Cheese and Helaena's grief after the fact. If you want to use child labour laws as an excuse, fine, altho Condal went on a podcast and said that they changed B and C because of Alicent's 'propaganda' lol. But let's take Condal's words at face value for a moment. Then why cut out the maid being strangled? Why cut out Alicent being tied and forced to watch as it happened? Why cut out the threats to Jaehara? Why cut out Helaena offering her life? Why were Criston and Aemond not shown trying to get in the room as it happened? None of those changes involved having a toddler on set being subjected to triggering scenes, so the that excuse no longer works, and none of them involved spending more time or money on the scene. They simply should have cut out the buddy comedy between Blood and Cheese and that stupid dog to give more time to Helaena and the kids.

Instead we have Alicent having sex with Criston, Helaena not offering life, Helaena not feeling any grief and getting over it almost immediately because heaven forbid Daemon and Rhaenyra look bad because of a grieving mother.

Every single change to Blood and Cheese was done to white wash Daemon, by extension Rhaenyra, and by further extension to white wash team black. I'm not a book purist by any means, but almost every single change to the source material that isn't due to budget constraints is done to cynically white wash Rhaenyra and push the agenda that you are a misogyny loving Woman for Trump if you side with Alicent and the Greens.

Other changes like Rhaenys choosing to go fight instead of being ordered by Rhaenyra, Laenor not being killed by Daemon so he could marry Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra not ordering Vaemond to be killed and eaten by her dragon, Nettles being cut because the writers can't have their Girl Boss 'lose' to another woman and be humiliated by her husband cavorting with a teenager, Helaena not feeling grief because that would make Rhaenyra/Daemon/TB look bad. Maelor wasn't cut because of budget or kid issues, he was cut because his storyline made Rhaenyra look bad. THAT's the issue here. I don't for a minute buy that they cut Maelor because of child labour laws, there are in fact ways to have kids in scenes like that where they don't have to see or hear anything offensive using smart editing, etc. That's my problem here, all of this was a very cynical and transparent way to whitewash TB and further demonize TG.

Any time people in the fandom are baffled as to why certain changes were made, just ask yourself how it serves Rhaenyra and you will get your answer.

^^^^^^^ i don't really have anything more to add, anon, you spelled everything out! 👌

tumblr user maglors-grief even recently commented that they actually aged down aegon iii and viserys ii, so, if using toddlers is such a hassle and a problem, why didn't they age them up instead? it's just a invented pretext to wave away their bias

[trillscienceofficer]

from Star Trek: Voyager the official magazine, June 1997

ROXANN DAWSON - B'Elanna Torres

by Ian Spelling

“You never really get used to it,” Roxann Dawson says of the makeup that transforms her into B'Elanna Torres on STAR TREK: VOYAGER. “I've gotten used to having it applied, but I don't think you ever really get used to it. Part of me likes it though. It certainly helps me slip into character and, of course, I'm not recognized at all out of the makeup, sometimes not even on the set.

“I remember that in the first few months we were doing the show, even people on the set had no idea who I was. I would walk right onto the stage without makeup and our own director of photography wouldn't recognize me. Over time, people have seen me out of makeup a little bit more often. So at least the cast and crew are beginning to know who I am now.”

Dawson smiles, which is a big no-no. At this very moment, she's sitting in a chair as a makeup artist glues on prosthetics and paints over assorted Klingon facial ridges. Every time Dawson stretches her facial muscles too much—which occurs when she smiles or laughs—she risks ruining the makeup artists work, and that would only mean more time in the chair. “I usually like to look the person I'm talking to in the eye,” Dawson explains. "But I can't turn my head, either. Use the mirror. I know it's a little weird, but if you look at me in the mirror as we speak, we can make eye contact.”

Clearly, Dawson has held more than a few conversations from this chair, which sits in the middle of a make-up trailer just a short walk from the VOYAGER sound-stages on the Paramount Pictures lot.

Hard as it may be to believe, three years have passed since Dawson first arrived here to play B'Elanna in the “Caretaker” pilot. “It is hard to believe, and it has been a great experience. I've been able to do almost everything as an actress portraying this character,” she enthuses. The other day, they had me rappelling for a scene we were shooting. That was so cool. It's one of the neat things about being an actor. You don't have to know how to do something and you don't really have to practice it. They just had me do it. Of course, I was protected, and a stuntwoman would have done anything that would have been too dangerous for me to do.”

Dawson notes, “We're also learning so much about this character. In ‘Blood Fever,’ we really explored many aspects that were very particular to B'Elanna, but not necessarily particular to Klingons or chief engineers in general. We're discovering that she's not just strong in the masculine sense, but that she can be sexual and feminine and interested in learning more about herself. I talked with Jeri Taylor at the beginning of the season because I wanted to see more of B'Elanna's Klingon side come out. I didn't want her to become too complacent. I wanted her irreverence to always be there. I wanted that war going on inside of her to be present and always a conflict that influenced her choices. I think the writers are making sure that's all there this sea- son.

“I don't want B'Elanna to be a goody two-shoes,” Dawson emphasizes. “I don't mind seeing her darker, uglier sides. That's important. It's part of who she is. It's good to see her at her worst. It's good to see her learn from her mistakes. That's what makes a character interesting. I love that, and I hope it continues.

“You never really get what you want as an actress, but with B'Elanna, I've really gotten a lot of what I had wished for. The writers keep surprising me,” she continues. “They keep coming up with different aspects of her for me to explore. I think to myself, ‘How did you know that was in my hidden agenda?’ That's a wonderful feeling for an actress on any show to have.”

Dawson also believes that the writers are doing justice to B'Elanna's relationships with the other characters aboard Voyager. When the series began, she was primarily presented as an outsider, even among her Maquis co-conspirators. Over time, B'Elanna has emerged as a respected member of the crew. Captain Janeway now shows the utmost confidence in her, and her friendship with Tom Paris seems to be blossoming into romance. “One thing people have to understand is that this is an ensemble show. There are nine regular characters to service every week,” Dawson notes. “I just feel really fortunate that, in such a short time, they've developed B'Elanna's specific relationships with just about everyone on the ship. except maybe Kes. We haven't had much to do together and I would love to have an episode exploring that relationship a little bit more.

"With all of the other characters, though, I have a specific relationship and a definite attitude, and each relationship and attitude is changing and growing. I love thee fact that the Doctor can tick me off so much at one moment, but al other moments there is an element of respect, when he does something that impresses me. For example, when I thought we were losing him and his memory, I suddenly realize that I need him, that he has grown me. I love that every once in a while, we see little windows of B'Elanna's past with Chakotay. Paris and I got very close in ‘Blood Fever’, but I was under the influence of something, I was in Klingon heat.

“I want the writers to keep surprising me. Sometimes I love not knowing exactly what's going to happen, and not figuring it out until I'm handed a script. I really don't know where they're going to go with the relationship between B'Elanna and Paris. I do hope they'll take their time and make it happen slowly. I hope it's original, a little different than what we've seen before. I hope they put in a great deal of friction. I'm sure B'Elanna is different from anyone Paris has ever been involved with before, and would love to see him realizing and dealing with that. I see that all happening, and it really pleases me.”

According to Dawson, she and Robert Duncan McNeill have sat down and discussed the best ways to make the B'Elanna-Paris relationship work for them, how to best add layers to the groundwork being provided by the shows writing staff. By way of example, when they received the “Blood Fever” teleplay, the two discussed the arc of the script and how they saw it as the launching pad for an ongoing relationship. They incorporated their conversations into their performances when the scenes were played out before the camera. 'It really comes down to the actors interpreting what's on the page,” Dawson says. “Robbie and I wanted to make sure that certain elements were there and, also, we didn't want to overstep any boundaries. We wanted to be certain we were doing it right. We do discuss things on that level, but we always have to keep in mind that we must by what the script says.”

Sometimes, of course, Dawson also must go by what her directors say. And the actress has been directed not only by actor/directors Jonathan Frakes and LeVar Burton, but also by her VOYAGER costars McNeill and Robert Picardo. McNeill helmed “Sacred Ground”, while Picardo called the shots on “Alter Ego”. “I had about 30 seconds of screen time in ‘Sacred Ground,’ but I was impressed with what Robbie did. Actually, he's going to direct another episode,” she says. “Bob was great on his show. It amazes me, because you don't always know that an actor will be able to direct. Both of these men are obviously multi-talented, because they're not only fine actors but they managed to direct well, too."

Soon enough, Dawson will find out whether or not she can add herself to the list of multi-talented VOYAGER cast members, for she is enrolled in STAR TREK's director-in-training program, which has turned out such directors as Frakes, Burton, Patrick Stewart and STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE's Avery Brooks and Rene Auberjonois. She's watching other directors in action, sitting in on editing sessions and the like, all in preparation to direct an episode sometimes next season. “There's a great education to be had here and they treat me with such grace. I'm so grateful to have the opportunity to learn this craft,” Dawson enthuses with a smile that elicits a wince from her makeup man.

“I've always wanted to direct. I've directed for theater, but it's quite different from directing for film or TV. I honestly don't know if I'll like it or be good at it. I think the time for deciding whether I'll be a good director is right now, during the learning process. So far, I really do love it. Hopefully, I'll be good at it, too. Whatever episode they give me to do, I just want to be able to bring it to life. Each episode is so different. Sometimes you're handled something that's very action-oriented, and sometimes you'll get something that's very thought-provoking. I don't know which kind of show I would be better at, but part of me says I would be better off starting with a quieter episode. I don't know if I have a particular style that I would impose anything. That was always my goal as a stage director. I'll probably stick with that idea for my first episode."

While Roxann Dawson may go on to make her mark as a director of VOYAGER, she's well aware that, even though she'll likely enjoy a long, fruitful career beyond STAR TREK, the show, her role and the fans will always be a part of her life. "I've heard that. Am I comfortable with it? I guess I'm growing more comfortable with the idea," she acknowledges.

"If this was something that didn't deserve that kind of recognition, then I would feel uncomfortable. But I think VOYAGER does deserve that kind of recognition. I'm part of something special. So, yeah, I guess I am comfortable with the idea STAR TREK being a part of my life forever. Let me put it this way: I'm as comfortable as I could be.”

Focus: Star Trek: Voyager

It has been a long time since Roxann Dawson last looked back at the episodes of STAR TREK: VOYAGER which were either focused almost entirely on B'Elanna Torres or which featured scenes of importance as they related to the character. Thus, the conversation backtracks to October 1995, when “Persistence of Vision” first aired:

“Persistence of Vision” (The crew's deeply buried desires surface; Chakotay seduces B'Elanna): “All I remember from that one was not being able to stop laughing when we were doing the love scene between Chakotay and me. Robert Beltran and I just kept cracking each other up.”

“Resistance” (The crew encounters the Mokra; Tuvok and B'Elanna are captured): “I liked working with Tim Russ. That was the first show where I saw any potential for exploring the relationship between Tuvok and B'Elanna. I realized he could help her explore some of the imbalances in the way she views her Klingon and human sides.”

“Prototype” (B'Elanna reactivates a robot, only to have it kidnap her and try to destroy Voyager) and “Dreadnought” (B'Elanna beams inside a missile to deactivate it): “I worked with Jonathan Frakes and LeVar Burton [as directors] on those two shows. They're both great guys. It's funny, in ‘Faces’ I dealt with myself a lot. In ‘Prototype’ I dealt with a robot and in ‘Dreadnought’ I dealt with a computer that had my voice. So, I was acting with myself in three B'Elanna-heavy episodes. I begged the writers to make the next one something where I interacted with a human. “Jonathan did a great job directing ‘Prototype’. ‘Dreadnought’ surprised me because so much effort went into actually developing the computer voice. That came about through hours and hours of looping. The whole show was B'Elanna and her relationship with this computer counterpart. So, it was fascinating for me to create that relationship half in performance and half in a sound studio.”

“The Thaw” (A clown [Michael McKean] holds Harry Kim and B'Elanna hostage while Janeway tries to free them): “I didn't have a whole lot to do in that. but I thought it was a brilliant episode. It had a lot to say and certain moments were just chilling, especially the death of Fear. Michael McKean was just great.”

“The Swarm” (The Doctor's system overloads and B'Elanna tries to help him recover his programming): “That was a great opportunity to work with Bob Picardo and to explore B'Elanna's relationship with the Doctor. I liked the fact that, to B'Elanna, he had always been just a computer, and in this episode she got to see he had this... humanity.”

“Remember” (B'Elanna has bad dreams; Dawson plays two roles): “I loved having the opportunity to do that show. It was a brilliant script. I loved being able to play the two characters, and how Karenna's [sic] life influenced B'Elanna's. I felt the show had something to say. Bruce Davidson [who played Jareth, Karenna's father] was extraordinary. I've always wanted to work with him. I had known of him since I lived in New York City, and he was just brilliant.”

“Blood Fever” (B'Elanna experiences Klingon heat; she and Paris begin their relationship): “That was an extraordinary experience. It demanded a kind of courage I didn't know I had. I took risks there, and I'm glad I did. I hope people think those risks paid off.”

“Darkling” (The Doctor goes bad): That was our Jekyll and Hyde epsiode with the Doctor turning a little evil. Bob Picardo and I had some fun together when he was in his Mr. Hyde mode. He paralyzed me and he was threatening to kill me and Bob was speaking in a sleazy, very sexual way. It was so disgusting, but I think it came across very funny.”

Though Torres doesn't feature heavily in the next few episodes shot, efforts have been made to develop one aspect of her character. “What's happening is that they've been furthering the B'Elanna/Paris relationship in subsequent episodes. In ‘Displaced’ we have the B-storyline. We did a lot of head-butting in that one. And we did one show where, for the first time, I worked only one day. But the whole day was B'Elanna/Paris stuff.

[lastoneout]

It's also like super fucking infuriating to see people continue to argue that generative AI is the best way for disabled and/or poor people to make art because like, you know what helps make art more accessible? Giving poor and disabled people money.

Like take me for instance, I'm disabled. I get severe migraines and intense leg/back pain if I sit at my computer for too long, my hEDS makes holding pens and pencils hard, my ADHD makes it hard for me to start certain tasks and/or stop them before I potentially hurt myself, my neck also hurts if I look down too much, my dyslexia AND my ADHD both make it difficult to keep track of a story as I write and use correct spelling and grammar, plus, I need to prioritize taking care of myself and going to appointments and keeping my house clean and that takes up a lot of my free time. All of these things make creating the kind of art I want to create difficult if not occasionally impossible.

So what do you think would solve my problems better? Giving me money so that I can have a drawing tablet and desk chair that won't hurt my neck or back, another tablet + pen and a lap table and comfortable body pillows for drawing in bed, easier transportation to my doctors appointments, effective treatment for my chronic pain and migraines, the ability hire someone to help me keep my house clean, a spelling/grammar checker that isn't complete ass, and a therapist and psychatrist who can help me manage my ADHD better?

Or an AI program that takes my input and spits out a drawing or story made of stolen content glued together that, in the case of the art, I cannot meaningfully edit without starting over, which also destroys the environment in the process?

Seems pretty obvious to me. I don't need AI, I need help to manage the things that are actually stopping me from being able to write and draw.

Or take my mom. She's had severe rhumatoid arthritis since she was a small child, her hands are deformed and she relies on her wheelchair to get around. She doesn't need AI to help her paint, she needs special paint brushes she can actually hold, a table her wheelchair will fit at, and someone to help her with personal hygiene/keep her house clean/take her to doctors appointments so she actually has free time to paint.

Does that poor kid growing up in public housing with parents who are too poor to afford art classes or supplies or to send them to college really need a computer program to draw for them, or do they need support to help them take those classes, buy drawing supplies, and money so they can go to college.

Blind people can paint, deaf musicians exist, people with missing limbs find all sorts of ways to make art, people with parkinson's paint with typewriters, my mother can't hold a normal paintbrush and she makes some of the most beautiful watercolor paintings I've ever seen, Van Gogh had bipolar disorder and only sold like one painting when he was alive, I mean for real how many different artists have you heard of who's biographies start with them being born into poverty?

This is not meant to be inspiration porn, these people are just ones who were able to find ways to make art despite their struggles. They shouldn't have had to struggle at all, but god imagine how many more artisrs and writers we could have had if none of them had to overcome those struggles. It breaks my heart to think of all the wonderful art that never got to exist because no one helped the people who could have made it actually have the time, money, support, and safety they needed to make it. AI would not have saved them because making art isn't the problem, being disadvantaged is the problem. Living in a world that refuses to make room for you is the problem. Being fucking poor is the problem. Humans have always found ways to make art despite huge barriers, the solution isn't a computer that makes art for them, it's SUPPORT AND MONEY SO THEY CAN OVERCOME THOSE BARRIERS AND MAKE THEIR OWN ART.

As a last example: I love watching dancing and I would love to be able to dance, but I'm terrible at it(I got kicked off a dance team for not being able to learn the dance at all despite spending weeks on it, idk my brain wasn't made for dancing) and my disabled body makes it more pain than pleasure if not actively dangerous, anyway. Having a robot dressed to look like me dance next to me while I get to watch would not make me feel like I'm getting to dance. It would actually be extremely fucking demoralizing and frustrating. I would hate that!!

Having an AI spit out a painting or book would not make me feel like I got to paint or write a book. It's a fucking anamatronic doll running on stolen ideas and it will never be the same as getting to actually expirience the joy of creating art first hand. AI is not the solution. Helping people who need it is the solution. And I am CONSTANTLY pissed to think about all the time and money that goes into these fucking AI programs that would be better spent helping disabled and poor people get the help they need so they can make art themselves, all while the people running the nightmare plagiarism pollution machines pretend that their horrible inventions exist to help people like me.