#next stop is to read volume 4 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aces-and-angels · 4 months

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seeing the influx of gfm campaigns on your dash may be overwhelming- the purpose of this post is to help others navigate through the many gfm links that are circulating here on this site- esp. those that find their way directly to you via your inbox. this advice is specific to tumblr- i cannot speak on other platforms (instagram, twitter, etc.) though some things i say may be applicable

disclaimer: i do not vet/verify any campaigns myself. i simply want people who are willing to engage with these types of posts to do so in a safe manner

read more below:

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what to do if you get a message from an account claiming to be 🇵🇸 in your inbox:

-> step 1: do not immediately dismiss it as spam

to quote one of nabulsi's posts:

"... you cannot generalise with Gazans if their tumblr blog is only a few days or a few hours old.

Gazans on tumblr are making accounts for the express purpose of spreading their fundraisers because it is spreading amongst Gazans that tumblr is a safe place to do so.

They could often be making multiple blogs and even remaking after staff flags them as spam. But don't blanket assume that Gazans are scammers if they're on a new tumblr blog with no pfp or content.

I agree that until a fundraiser is vetted you shouldn't reblog it in case it is someone dishonest taking advantage of the circumstances in Gaza. But you cannot do the opposite and immediately assume they're a scammer. I'm seeing people harass Gazans sometimes who genuinely are people who just don't know how to use tumblr and are falsely raising red flags because of it." (read full post here)

to sum it up: don't hit 'report' right away- marinate a lil and put on a detective hat

-> step 2: background check

the following are accounts that are known to vet/verify gfm campaigns here on tumblr. note- this is not a comprehensive list:

el-shab-hussein

nabulsi

90-ghost* (edit 8/4: recently announced that ahmed will no longer be vetting/verifying new campaigns)

ibtisams* (only has done it on situational basis; is not currently vetting new campaigns- read post here)

rubashabansblog (has been promoting other palestinians who lost their tumblr accounts; currently living under occupation)

heba-20 (unsure if heba takes request to vet others personally but is a reliable source for finding legitimate campaigns)

northgazaupdates

fairuzfan (says they are less active on tumblr these days/not currently vetting new campaigns but is a reliable source)

i recommend giving these individuals a follow if you haven't already as they provide far more information regarding all things 🇵🇸. they've all put in a lot of work to make the process i'm sharing with y'all as simple as possible. also please be respectful if you try reaching out to any of them. they are likely getting a high volume of asks and may not be able to respond to you quickly

important note: it has been recently announced that nabulsi + el-shab-hussein have stopped vetting new accounts for the time being and are only focusing on campaigns that have already been vetted. read their full statement here and here

to start- check out the person's account. this can be a hit or miss depending on how new the account is. however- you may notice that the person in question has stated that they have been vetted:

good signs so far- but better to be safe than sorry. next thing to do is search the username of the person who messaged you on tumblr. it's likely if you got a message like the one pictured above, others may have received one as well and did the digging for you:

if you can't find a clear answer with tumblr's illustrious search bar/want to confirm someone's claim that the campaign in question was already verified, the next thing to do is check one of the following:

el-shab-hussein's pinned post

el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's google sheet

imo, this process is far easier to do while on a laptop/desktop vs. mobile app. ctrl+f is your friend in this scenario as is the ability to click through multiple tabs. for el-shab-hussein's pinned post, i click through the multiple lists and see if any names match. in ruba's case, she was found under List of fundraisers for my direct contacts from Ghazzah & Sudan:

and for the google sheet- her campaign is no. 90 on the list:

tip: to narrow down your search even further- ctrl+f the title of the person's gfm campaign that they've linked on their tumblr account:

-> step 3: share your findings + follow that account

if everything checks out- ✨share le campaign✨ provide the link to it in your response to the ask + where it was verified. make it easier for the next person who gets a message to figure out that the gfm is real

following 🍉accounts is esp. important since the forces that be are keen on suppressing them at every turn. the more eyes on these accounts- the easier it'll be to determine the legitimacy of any new accounts they may need to make

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okay, but... scams 😬:

-> step 1: seek a master

people can be assholes- and anyone trying to make a profit off of an ongoing genocide can eat glass

anyways- the following are accounts that are known to identify scam posts on tumblr (again, not a comprehensive list. these are just the one's ive seen/most familiar with):

mangocheesecakes

kyra45

kyra45's pinned post contains a plethora of resources to help determine if a post/message is a scam- and not just in regards to 🇵🇸- key goes in on many types of scams. please refer to their guides (and be sure that you are reading the most recent version of key's posts)

-> step 2: if you see sumn, say sumn

we're human and sometimes things slip our radar. so if you ever see someone on here sharing a known scam, do 'em a solid and let them know about it regardless if you are mutuals or not

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final/misc. thoughts:

it's good practice to double check a campaign's verification with these tools for yourself regardless of how legitimate it looks. note that checking for a gfm's verification is not the same as verifying them. that work should be left to qualified individuals with experience in doing so. this is why it's bad to attempt things you are not qualified to tackle also- i think it's important to remember that transferring 💵 from a gfm campaign to those in need requires a lot of pieces to be perfectly set in place. if you see 🇵🇸 blogs linking alt. methods of raising funds (ex. p*ypal/k*fi) the reason could be that their gfms were frozen/suspended for a myriad of reasons. as always- check credible sources if you are unsure about a campaign you may come across notice how the spreadsheet provided here has over 100+ campaigns listed. generating a list that extensive requires hard work that is undoubtedly both physically and mentally straining to the individuals who are involved in making it. i've seen some accounts myself that have had to announce that they can no longer continue to vet campaigns because it has taken that much of a toll on their wellbeing. do not let their efforts go wasted

other resources:

some other places/grassroot organizations where you can find vetted campaigns:

operation olive branch (oob)

gazafunds

operation poppy flower (now also linked in oob's sheet)

operation watermelon

project watermelon

strawberry seeds collective

ottawa4palestine

camps breakerz crew

gofund(water)me(lons)

flowersfromfalasteen

#not choices #save #resources #🍉

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redxx95 · 4 months

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How Cherry Magic avoids romanticising self-sacrifice

Alright strap in boys, this is gonna be a long one.

Spoilers for the manga (mostly the english volumes but I will include a bit from vol 12. I'll mark it tho so yall may skip it if you don't want to be spoilered).

So in this one I want to examine how cherry magic does a great job at portraying self-sacrifice in a relationship as an actual flaw rather than a romantic ideal to aspire to. Very often you'll see characters in media putting their own needs aside for their lover. A lot of people will swoon at that because it is usually presented as proof of how dedicated they are to their partner and their wellbeing. (See... well the thai adaptation actually).

But what has pleasantly surprised me is how Toyota handles this in her manga.

Starting from the beginning, we all know the millions of things Kurosawa did for Adachi to get closer to him. After all, that is what's usually expected of him if we talk traditional gender roles. But one of the reasons Adachi even starts falling for Kurosawa is because of how he was for once able to do something for him.

For someone with very low self-esteem, being able to help this super-capable perfect man is a big boost in confidence and also raises his own selfworth.

So now let's look at a few instances of selfless action and the consequences resulting from them.

First one is the disaster-date in volume 4

Kurosawa does his very best to choose activities that he thinks Adachi will enjoy. That is his primary concern.

The effect this has on Adachi though is that the gap between them feels impossibly wide, only worsening his already low opinion of himself.

Whenever Kurosawa does something big, it makes Adachi feel that much smaller. That's why he'd rather them be equals in everything instead of one giving more than the other.

Next is the argument they have in volume 8

Kurosawa attempts to, very selflessly, protect Adachi from his lowkey homophobic parents. He doesn't want them and their opinions to hurt Adachi personally, so he ends up lying to him to keep the peace. The effect this has on Adachi though is disastrous. At first he's just generally worried about why Kurosawa would even lie to him in the first place, but then they have that fight in their living room and you really get a good look at how negatively this affects Adachi.

The very first conclusion he jumps to is that he's not doing good enough for Kurosawa to feel secure with him.

The next one is even worse, where he thinks he's not good enough in general. Both of these show how when pressed, he will default to blaming himself, believing that he is the problem first and foremost.

And then, if all of that wasn't bad enough, this happens next:

He's actually being self-deprecating again, something he hadn't done ever since Kurosawa told him not to in volume 5. And yes you can actually go back and check for yourself. Whenever he has negative thoughts after this point he's always pushing back.

So there's an escalation happening here, one that is entirely caused by Kurosawa not sharing his burdens with him, by making their relationship unequal.

I think it also hurts him extra bad because they've had this argument before, just with their roles switched.

So to him it must feel like Kurosawa is betraying the important lesson Adachi learned from that argument, which is that communicating with your partner is important, even when you feel like it might hurt them.

There's also something to be said about how most people would've probably stopped prodding when someone says "it's something I can't tell you", but Adachi knows that Kurosawa has a pattern of hiding his issues from him thanks to the mind reading, which is the whole reason they had that argument in vol 6 in the first place.

So, to summarize: Whenever Kurosawa acts selfless it takes a toll on Adachi's mental health. Because of his low self-esteem he needs to feel on equal terms with Kurosawa to be able to see himself as worthwhile. (And obviously he also loves Kurosawa and doesn't want to see him in pain just in general.)

So after all that, surely Kurosawa would have learned his lesson, right? Surely he wouldn't just do it again, right?

... Spoilers for volume 12 start here ✨

So volume 12 is all about Kurosawa overworking himself because he's been assigned this big project by their chief to oversee their company's spot at a stationery convention. (I didn't look up whether or not that's a real thing but it is in the manga universe I guess lmao.)

Adachi tries to help alleviate his burdens with mixed success.

(On the left he feeds Kurosawa because he needs to finish his work and doesn't have time to eat. On the right he tries to take a phonecall for Kurosawa but gets told that Kurosawa needs to hear it personally so relaying a message won't do.)

Then Adachi muses to himself how Kurosawa was always helping him out in the past and how Adachi can't do anything for him in return, especially since they're in different departments. He feels very useless, which is once again bad for his mental health.

Later at home, he offers to at least take over the chores for the time being, but gets told that Kurosawa actually enjoys doing chores so there's no need for him to help.

Kurosawa tells him that all he needs is Adachi to be close to him, while making out with him on the sofa. And right here we see how he only got half the lesson he was supposed to have learned in volume 8: In their fight Adachi told him that they should both be happy and he should share "all the hurt" with him, too. Well, the simple solution to that is not to see all his burdens as burdens, then he's not hurting and Adachi doesn't need to bother fussing over him! Win-win. Epic mind gymnastics 😎 (To be honest, I feel like this is actually very relatable to people that tend to give more than they take. We get so used to the weight of the burden that we don't notice it slowly pulling us down.)

So Adachi obviously notices what's going on and berates him about not having understood anything he said from that fight.

Throughout the volume Kurosawa gets more and more overworked, makes mistakes and is confronted with unexpected complications. He's very adamant about not asking anyone for help though, stating that he "can't be bothering his senpais any more than he already has" and that he's "doing this all for the sake of his future with Adachi".

He also still has some hangups about people seeing him as just a pretty face, as you can see in that flashback in the second page. He constantly feels the need to prove himself to others, which prevents him from ever seeking out help.

So when he inevitably reaches his limit, Adachi is finally able to be there for him, being the only one that sees through his facade.

(That hand kiss is so precious 😭)

Also, on that first page Adachi asks him whether or not he's fine, which reminds me of this panel from volume 6:

He really knows him so well.

Emboldened by his husband, Kurosawa finally does ask for help and is, of course, met with understanding and sympathy.

Spoilers for volume 12 end here ✨

So all this to say: Sometimes, when we try our best to be selfless and to protect the people close to us, we do more harm than good. Sometimes we cause harm to others (see volumes 4 and 8) and sometimes we cause harm to ourselves (see volume 12). It is of course a noble cause but it's not something to strive for at all times and can sometimes be actually counterproductive to what we wanted to achieve in the first place.

As someone who breaks themselves apart to help all the people around them, this aspect of the manga resonated very strongly with me and is probably the biggest reason I got so obsessed with this silly little BL romcom.

I know that this manga is not like, the best in quality. I know it's super niche and silly and cannot compare to the big popular mainstream manga with lots of depth and thought put into it, BUT.

A piece of art doesn't need to be "good" in order to resonate with people. You don't need to paint the mona lisa to reach someone and make them feel seen. You just need some sort of medium and a will to communicate something to the observer. (Something an AI could never replicate but that is a whole other discussion.)

This manga reached me when I needed it and it communicated a message that resonated with me and that is all it needed to do for me to love it to the point of obsession. 💖

Finally I'm done with this essay it is so long oh my god. If you reached the end of this, I'm so sorry. I hope you enjoyed it tho.

#cherry magic #happy pride month I guess #alternate title: adachi has 99 problems and kurosawa is all of them #he's also the solution tho so there's that lol #my essays

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Summary: Eddie's guard is back up after overhearing people gossiping about a secret that only you would know about. When he lets his animosity take over, the damage may be too great to repair.

Warnings: angst, Eddie is really mean to Reader, mentions of CPS, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's, slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 3.7k

Chapter 4/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie is still fuming when he pulls into the music store’s parking lot. He’s opening today, and his hands tremble as he fumbles with the keys. All of those parents are going to know that he’s a failure of a father. The Munson reputation clung to him like a bloodsucking leech, regardless of his numerous attempts to shed it. He’s destined to be an outcast at best and a monster at worst.

Finally managing to unlock the door, Eddie flicks on the lights, blanketing the shop in a hazy glow. The silence is deafening, and he swears that his brain will implode if he doesn’t get some background noise. He walks to the section labeled ‘METAL’ as if on autopilot, grabbing Metallica’s Master of Puppets and shoving the cassette into the player. Ash insists that they play classic rock over the crummy little sound system; something about it being ‘palatable’ for the customers, but she’s not here to scold him.

He thinks back to when this album was released, towards the end of his third senior year. The good ol’ days, when I only worried about passing O’Donnell’s class and planning Hellfire campaigns, he thinks wryly. But, no; that isn’t quite true. He’d had to worry about the trailer getting repo’d, or whether he and Wayne could stretch their food stamp budget enough to feed two grown men. Concerns that his uncle had tried to hide from him until he no longer could.

“Ed, you’re eighteen now,” Wayne had said, just one month after Eddie’s birthday, “and I’m gonna need you to start payin’ some bills around here.”

At the time, Eddie thought he was just being a bastard. It wasn’t until a few days later when he’d spotted the envelope marked PAST DUE in bold, red letters that he realized it wasn’t a punishment, but a necessity.

He’d been selling for Rick ever since. Well, until now.

“Battery” fades out to “Master of Puppets,” and Eddie flips the CLOSED sign to read OPEN. He glances at the calluses on his hands and smiles sadly, thinking of all the hours he spent learning the chords in his room. After weeks of non-stop practicing—Hetfield’s solo was a bitch—he’d raced down to Gareth’s garage and played all eight minutes straight through. Watched as his friends’ jaws dropped in awe. Gave him a standing ovation. Told him he was a fucking rockstar.

“You’re a rockstar, all right,” Eddie sarcastically grumbles now, clanging a roll of pennies against the counter before dumping them into the till. “Getting ready to drop your new hit single: Do you want a receipt with that?”

His morning has been nothing short of monotonous: help the customer find what they want, ring them up and make small talk, and then organize (or, in his case, pretend to organize) the store when it’s not busy.

There’s too much down time for him to be left alone with his thoughts. As soon as he has a moment to himself, he’s ruminating on his regrets of the past. He turns up the music volume in a half-hearted attempt to drown them out, but they manage to worm their way into every nook and cranny of his brain.

Eight years ago, a twenty-two year old Eddie Munson left his podunk town of Hawkins, Indiana to pursue rock stardom. He’d driven to Chicago with only the pocket change he’d saved up and his guitar on his back. A big city for a man with even bigger dreams.

It didn’t take him long to realize that being Eddie Munson meant next to nothing in a place that was bursting with musicians desperate for the chance to become famous. He appreciated the anonymity at first; he could blend in without being chased by taunts of Freak or Loser. But after nearly a full year of auditions where he was just another guitarist who could carry a tune, he’d started to lose hope. Prepared to return to Hawkins with his tail between his legs, he’d stopped at the nearby bar for one last drink.

“We can’t go on without a lead singer and guitarist!”

A frantic voice captured his attention, drawing his gaze from the pint of beer in front of him.

“Well, Sam bailed. Again,” another man points out, tone heavy with irritation. “So either we go on without him, or we don’t go on at all.”

Eddie finds himself standing up and walking into a conversation where he was never invited. “I, um, play guitar. And sing?” He winces as it comes out like a question. “I can show you, if you want.” What was he doing? He couldn’t line up a gig to save his life, and now he’s offering to play for some band he doesn’t even know?

The two guys, both about his age, exchange a dubious look. “All right,” says one with shaggy dark hair. “Let’s hear what you got, Guitar Boy.” He hands him his own guitar, and Eddie adjusts the strap before diving headfirst into the chorus of the first song that comes to mind:

If you think I'll sit around as the world goes by You're thinkin' like a fool 'cause it's a case of do or die Out there is a fortune waitin' to be had You think I'll let it go you're mad You've got another thing comin'

The other guy cocks his head, a delighted smirk spreading across his face. “Judas Priest. Solid choice.” He paces a bit, twirling a drumstick between his fingers. You got a name, Guitar Boy?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Eddie Munson.” He sticks out his hand, silently willing it to stop trembling, and shakes theirs.

“I’m Marcus,” the shaggy-haired man says. “This is Bryan. I play backup guitar; he’s on drums. Our bassist should be here soon; his name’s Pete.”

“And Sam was our lead guitarist and singer, but he’s a fucking asshole,” Bryan quips, and Eddie chortles at his brazen attitude. “Anyway, we mostly do covers…check out the setlist and see what you know.” He hands Eddie a crumpled piece of paper, filled with familiar songs and artists.

“I can do any of these,” Eddie says, a satisfied warmth filling his chest as he watches the guys grin even wider.

“Tell ya what,” Bryan says, plopping behind a drum set plastered with a logo reading Hard Knox. “If you don’t suck tonight, you can play with us permanently.”

“Yeah,” Marcus agrees. “We’re gonna be big, man. We just need someone to help us get there.”

“Let me run back to my place and grab my ax,” Eddie tells them, adrenaline propelling him to his apartment. This was it. This was the break he needed. Just as he was about to give up, God or fate or destiny or whoever was finally giving him a chance to prove himself.

The show went off without a hitch; Eddie’s guitar skills bringing a normally quiet audience to their feet. Bryan clapped him on the back as he looked at Pete and Marcus; the three nodding at each other. “Welcome to Hard Knox!” he announced.

“Sam leaving was the best thing to happen to us,” Pete laughs in agreement. A bartender in a tight skirt and fishnet stockings brings over a round of shots, and the four men clink glasses.

“Fuck Sam!” Eddie shouts before taking the drink. The tequila burns as it coats his throat, but he doesn’t dare reach for the lime. No, he has something to prove.

“Fuck Sam!” the rest of the band echoes enthusiastically. Their choral response reminds Eddie of the way Corroded Coffin used to be before he’d left: when he’d say something, Jeff, Gareth, and Danny would listen. He was born to be a leader.

Things started to fall into place. His one night endeavor with Hard Knox turned into a biweekly gig at the bar, which eventually turned into shows almost every night at various venues across the city. He’d even convinced the guys to play some original work of his, reminding them that cover bands don’t get record deals.

He had a steady income. A group of friends who appreciated him and his music. Beautiful women who eagerly threw themselves at him at the end of the show. And then it would repeat the following night in a new place. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

Last night’s chaos has you all disheveled; it wasn’t until you got to work this morning that you realized you hadn’t even packed your lunch. You try to convince yourself that you can wait until you get home to eat, but about fifteen minutes before your break, your stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud growl.

“I’m gonna run to the deli and grab something,” you tell Will, throwing your jacket over your shoulders and digging out your car keys. “Want me to pick up anything for you?”

“Uh, Tylenol?” he grimaces, rubbing his temples. The kids had music class today, and the sounds of ten preschoolers singing off-key combined with their clashing tambourines served as a recipe for a pounding headache. “And maybe a bag of sour cream and onion chips?”

“You got it.” You shoot him a thumbs-up as you make your way to the parking lot as quickly as possible, determined to get your food before the lunch rush starts.

You manage to just beat out the crowd of hungry nine-to-fivers, grabbing a veggie wrap to-go. Crunching on a cucumber slice as you take a big bite, you start back towards your car, but the music store next door catches your eye.

A check of your watch confirms that you have a few minutes to peruse, maybe grab a copy of the new Toni Braxton cassette you’d been wanting. If there was ever a day to treat yourself to a little gift, it’s today. Your mind is foggy and your body feels like it’s dragging sandbags as you make your way over. You knew that taking care of an ailing relative would be physically demanding, but you weren’t prepared for the emotional toll it would take. Seeing your grandma helplessly laying on the bathroom floor scared drew all of the oxygen from your lungs, filling your body with worry. And just a few hours later, she was furiously swearing at you, claiming to hate you. She’s an ever-swinging pendulum, and you’re downright exhausted.

A small glob of hummus lands on your lower lip, and your tongue licks it off haphazardly as you push open the door to the music store. The jingle of the bell is meant to alert the employees that a customer has entered, but when you look around, there’s no one there to help you.

You walk towards the aisle labeled R&B, starting by thumbing through the “B” section–nothing. Perplexed, you make your way to the “T” section, still with no luck. Was Toni Braxton so popular amongst Hawkins residents that they’d bought out every copy of Secrets?

“You can’t eat in here,” a terse voice calls out. You’re so startled, you nearly drop your sandwich. A piece of tomato flies out of the tortilla when you jump, hitting the linoleum flooring, and the irritated person sighs. “Aaand this is why.”

You pick up the fallen vegetable and turn around to see Eddie Munson standing before you. “You scared me!” you say, but your body visibly relaxes. Twenty-four hours ago, you never would have guessed that he would have a calming effect on you. How quickly things can change, you muse silently. “Can you help me find the new Toni Braxton? The Secrets cassette?”

Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can you follow simple instructions? No. Eating. In. The. Store.” He rolls his eyes. “Just because you teach preschoolers doesn’t mean you get to act like one.”

The smile that briefly danced across your lips slips into a frown. What the hell happened in the few hours since he’d dropped Harris off at school? Did you imagine that you two had gotten along?

“Are you okay?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion. “I-I can put the wrap in my car, just give me a sec…”

He shakes his head. “No, actually, I’m not okay,” he sneers. “But I bet you knew that already.” He shifts his posture so he’s standing a bit taller. “Y’know, you have some fuckin’ nerve, coming in here after what you did.”

“Did I miss something?” Your voice gets smaller with the gnawing feeling of brewing confrontation acting as a brick on your chest. “I thought–”

“Tell me what you thought,” he interrupts, leaning on a box of tapes. “Wait, no; let me guess. You thought that because I rejected you, you could go around blabbing my personal business around the school.” He scrunches up his face, biting his lip as he looks at you. “Did I get it right?”

“Your personal business?”

“Mhm,” he answers pointedly, spinning a skull ring around his finger. “Is that not it? Was it because you were embarrassed that I heard your grandma say that she hates you? I don’t blame her, by the way.”

Your force your gaze to remain trained on him, staring into his brown eyes that have hardened with fury. “She doesn’t hate me,” you breathe out, “she just can’t remember me anymore. When she knew who I was, she loved me. A lot.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t take away from the fact that everyone and their goddamn dog knows about the CPS report.”

“What CPS report?” you ask, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach. “Is Harris okay?”

He takes one look at your puzzled expression and barks out a harsh, incredulous laugh. “Seriously? You can drop the innocent act.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about!” you snap, frustrated at his unwillingness to hear you out and your own lack of understanding. “All I know is that this morning, you didn’t hate me–or maybe just hated me a little less–and now you’re back to being the worst human being I’ve ever met.”

Eddie scratches at the shadow of a beard that’s formed on his jawline; an itchy reminder that he didn’t get to shave last night. “You should consider yourself lucky if I’m the worst person you’ve ever met. Tell me, what have I done? Thrown some insults your way?” He claps his palm to his chest exaggeratedly. “How ever did you survive?”

“Mock me and my teaching skills, pretend like you’re going to call when you knew damn well that you weren’t, call me a bitch, and your latest and greatest,” you counter, ticking off the instances on your fingers, “accuse me of something I didn’t do.”

He considers this for a moment, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “So you’re trying to tell me,” he starts, gritting his teeth, “that we were in the same wing of the same hospital at the same time, but you weren’t the one who told people about the CPS case they opened on me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” you hiss.

“Then how the fuck did Carol Perkins find out about it?!” His volume raises to a roar, and you wince at the sting it leaves echoing in your eardrums. “Because I fucking heard her talking about it with Steve Harrington! So if you, the person who was there, didn’t open your mouth and tell her, who did? The CPS fairy?”

“I don’t fucking know!” you shout, swallowing thickly in a meager attempt to bide time before the tears inevitably leak from your eyes. “I don’t know, but it wasn’t me.”

Eddie rakes a hand through his frizzy curls, smacking the other on top of the nearby box. “Just…just get out,” he mutters. “I can’t listen to any more of your bullshit.” He starts back towards a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY before turning back around, eyes narrowed.

“Y’know, I wouldn’t have hooked up with you that night if I knew that this is how you handle a one-night stand,” he says, pursing his lips as he steps closer to you. “And I never should’ve let Harris step foot in your classroom. I would drive him to a school in goddamn Timbuktu if it meant having you out of my life.” He pauses, scraping his teeth across his lower lip and exhaling a terse laugh. “It’s too bad I can’t forget about you like your grandma did.”

The words knock the wind out of your lungs. Your knees buckle slightly, and you have to steady yourself on the closest shelf. Tears blur your vision as your legs carry you out of the store; you feel yourself walking, but it’s like an external force has control of your body. The words fuck you sit on the tip of your tongue, or maybe you say them—it’s too hazy to tell. The world is covered in a shiny layer of cellophane; you can see everything, but you can’t touch.

You’re crying too hard to drive, so you sit behind the wheel, seatbelt clicked in place, letting out sobs that leave your whole body shuddering. It’s all too much, and though you logically know that Grandma didn’t want to forget you, his comment hit a raw nerve.

It wasn’t a straight path; Alzheimer’s never is. A few months ago, she could remember you in the morning but forgot you by the afternoon. She would call you by name at 9 AM but ask who you were at 2 PM. One day you were her granddaughter; the next, you were a total stranger. You thought it couldn’t hurt more than it already did, but the repeated reminders that she no longer recognizes you at all is a constant knife through the heart.

You’ll be late if you don’t start driving back to work now, so you turn the key in the ignition and adjust the gear shift to reverse. As you look up to glance in the rearview mirror, you catch sight of him. He’s dumbfounded, and you could laugh at how ridiculous it is that it took him seeing you bawling in your car to realize that he went too far this time.

Unable to stomach the thought of further confrontation, you take a deep breath and drive away, leaving him to mull over what just happened.

He’d assumed you’d left already when he’d walked outside for a smoke break, placing a cigarette between trembling fingers before he’d even left the store. He almost drops the lighter on his scuffed sneaker when he sees you hunched over, resting your arms on the wheel as your body heaves. He’s not sure how long he’s been staring when you lift your head, exposing tear-streaked cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. Your gazes lock for just a millisecond, but it tells him everything he needs to know.

It wasn’t you.

When Eddie arrives at the school for pick-up, he scours the crowd of impatient parents for Carol. He finds her talking with another mom; no doubt spreading more gossip about him. Maybe he shouldn’t have pretended that their Satanic cult rumors didn’t bother him when they were back in high school. Maybe if they knew, they would understand that he’s just a goddamn person trying his best, just like everyone else.

“Hey,” he starts, pushing the fear from his voice and willing his strength to remain unwavering. “Who told you about the CPS stuff?”

Carol plasters an obviously fake smile on her face as she responds. “I don’t know what you mean,” she says simply. Her carefree tone pushes Eddie to his limit.

“Cut the bullshit,” Eddie growls, quickly losing his temper. “I heard you talking to Steve Harrington about it. So either you tell me now, or I’ll make sure your husband knows about that guy I saw you with at the Hideout a couple of months ago.”

Her face blanches, color draining from her cheeks. “It was Jason Carver,” she mumbles, biting her thumbnail. “His wife, Chrissy, is a nurse at the hospital and saw the report. She told him, and he’s been telling, well, everyone else.”

Eddie swears that steam is billowing out of his ears. Everything is coated in a red haze, and he finds himself unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists. “Where is that sonofabitch? I’m gonna punch him in his smug little–”

“Mr. Munson?” you cut through his rant. His head snaps in your direction. You’ve fixed your makeup; if Eddie hadn’t seen you crying earlier, he would’ve been none the wiser. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Y-Yeah,” he stammers, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet. “Actually, I needed to tell you someth–”

“I think you’ve said enough today,” you say, voice calm but firm. “I just wanted to give this to you before Harris comes out.” You hand him a pink piece of paper. “It’s a transfer slip. Starting next week, Harris will be in Ms. Marion’s class. I didn’t tell him anything about it, so you can say whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.” That’s not quite true; the idea of Eddie feeding Harris lies about you makes your stomach curdle, but there’s only so much you can control.

Eddie’s, usually quick with a retort, is uncharacteristically quiet. “I, um, I thought…the secretary told me that all of the classes were full.” It’s a cop-out, but he can’t push himself to tell you what he knows now. Not when you’re already bruised.

“They made an exception because I was the one who requested it this time,” you explain, clenching your jaw. “Looks like you got your wish. You can forget about me now.”

He takes the paper and shoves it in his back pocket. The confession is on the tip of his tongue, an apology not far behind. Say it, he berates himself. Just fucking say it. You might be able to fix this if you just—

“I’ll go get Harris,” you tell him, breaking into his thoughts. “Good-bye, Mr. Munson.”

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itsmarsss · 3 months

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Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 8 - Catharsis

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own?

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 9

Word count: 4,900

Warnings: self-deprecating thoughts, thoughts of death, heavy drinking, use of alcohol and sexual behavior as coping mechanisms. you know it's what you can expect from a blitzo-centered chapter. this happens right after the ozzie's chapter.

Blitzø is going to die alone.

He’s going to die alone and no one will attend his funeral or even visit his grave other than to spit on it and his gravestone will read ‘Here Lies Blitzo Buckzo’ and nothing more because no one will be there to tell them to cross out the O and he most certainly won’t be a beloved anything. He'll just stay Blitzo Buckzo, forever.

And Blitzo Buckzo fucking sucks.

Sometimes he wishes he was able to think before he spoke. He never does much of that and he’s aware he’d probably have refrained from hurting half the people he’s hurt if he could just keep his damn mouth shut. He didn’t think about this all that much… except for when he did.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own?

Her voice rings in his head non-stop, like one of those annoying fucking church bells he’d come across once in the living world that ring every single hour, making it unable for its existence to be forgotten.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own?

It rings over and over again, stubborn, and it just won’t fucking go away.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own?

Blitzø drives home on his own, but not in silence. He turns the radio on and the volume up until he figures it must be loud enough that he’ll have trouble hearing his own thoughts. It doesn’t work. The shit thing about thoughts is that they’re not something you can just turn off when you get sick of them. They follow you everywhere, all the time, inconvenient and impossible to get rid of. He proceeds to ignore the songs that come on in favor of mumbling incoherent things under his breath in a desperate attempt to reassure himself that he’s not bothered by everything that just happened. Things like I can think about people’s fuckin’ feelings and think you’re so much better than me, well fuck you and rich fuckin’ asshole thinks he’s hot shit and probably suckin’ face right now.

You know, things that prove he doesn’t care one bit.

Whatever.

He parks the van without a care, still too busy mumbling to himself, leaving it askew, taking up almost half of the parking spot next to his own. The old lady from 22 is gonna be pissed at the inconvenience. Well fuck her too. He doesn’t spare another thought on that.

He dreads the walk up the stairs to the apartment, wishing he lived somewhere with an elevator, or in a house, or in a super sick fancy mansion where he used money as toilet paper when he took a shit because he was just that rich. Actually, scratch that, that sounds uncomfortable. At least his shitty apartment with limited hot water and four flights of stairs before it had real toilet paper, and it was the nice kind even, he always made sure of it even if it was a little more expensive.

His little luxuries start to sound stupid when he’s been spending so much time around Stolas and all his fancy stuff.

When he opens the door and enters the apartment, his first immediate thought is to knock on Loona’s door. He groans once as he walks towards it and then once again when he spots the note she left taped to it. ‘Tex invited me to a party. Don’t wait up.’ Yeah of course he fucking did.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own?

Does he?

He does. He thinks he does, at least. Maybe not all the time, but why else would he have said those things to her other than to protect her feelings? It’s not his fault if she was setting herself up for heartbreak. She needed to kill those feelings and if she wouldn’t then he would, fuck being the bad guy. In fact, fuck her too! He could so think about other people’s feelings.

He groans a third time at the thought of spending the night all alone, because he already knows what being alone makes out of him, and he doesn't like it one bit. If he could, he’d never be alone, not even for a single second, ever. Maybe that way he wouldn’t be so pathetic and so sad, because that’s what being alone made of him: pathetic and sad.

It’s why Blitzø used to hate weekends.

Satan, he fucking hated them. Why couldn’t every day be a work day? Why would they need a break? If it were up to him, there would be no such thing as a weekend. Because on weekends he had nothing to distract him from the ever-growing nothing in the pit of his chest and that wasn’t much fun at all.

Until Y/N accepted the job at I.M.P.

Before that, they used to speak almost exclusively through text, extremely inconsistently. He’s never really been the greatest at texting, but he could spam her with stupid memes and pictures of him doing random things throughout his day and horse doodles that she didn’t seem mad about receiving. They spent a whole year like that, only meeting in person a few times here and there.

When he offered her the job he promised himself not to have any expectations because, well shit, why would she trade in an obviously well-paying job, with her best friend as her boss, where she’d been working for years on end without having to hurt or kill anybody, for whatever it was he was asking her to do?

But then she said yes.

It wasn’t long until he figured out they weren’t all that different from each other. Apparently, as much as she liked to complain about needing a break, just to annoy him, she dreaded weekends too. Not that she’d just admit that point-blank, but they did go out on on a Friday night after work and she did drink one too many and she sighed and complained about having to go home and it was all so much like him. ‘I don’t wanna be alone, Blitz,’ she’d told him.

He didn't wanna be alone either.

And so he took her back home and he slept on her couch and he stayed there the next day, keeping her company and, honestly, enjoying hers.

That’s how their tradition started. Almost every single weekend, the two will find themselves in either of their apartments, in the ugliest clothes they own, to cook or order something extremely greasy and unhealthy and marathon a shit-ton of movies, staying in on Saturday after going out somewhere on Friday. Loona would routinely call it ‘patheticville’ and ‘loser day’ and things like that.

He doesn't hate weekends anymore.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own?

And now he’d fucking gone and done this.

He still wanted to fight, then. To argue, to scream, to yell. He wanted them to do it too. To get down and dirty and scream back at him. He wanted a reason to react.

Blitzø has always been very good at reacting.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than you own?

But how was he supposed to react to that? The thought of grabbing his phone and texting her something along the lines of ‘fuck you and your pet bird too’ crosses his mind for a moment and, shit, maybe he is a prick, and he was gonna die alone wasn’t he? He was sure to if he kept doing this kind of thing.

And maybe he fucking deserves it.

Sometimes he wonders just how he’s going to die. Will it be peaceful? He hopes not. He sure as shit does not deserve peaceful. Maybe it could at least be cool. Maybe he could go down in a super badass shootout in the human world or a cool-as-fuck sword fight or something. Or maybe he’ll die in some dumbass way like tripping on the sidewalk and cracking his head open on the pavement. Maybe it’ll be in one of those days when he’ll be climbing up Stolas’ balcony and then he’ll slip and fall and break all his bones only to be found dead on the grass surrounded by ball gags and anal plugs. A stupid send-off for a stupid motherfucker.

He throws himself on the couch instead and curls up into a ball, wishing he had a big royal-size bed with soft sheets and like three or four fluffy pillows, or even a simple twin-sized one, or at least that the couch was a pull-out.

He grabs his phone and inevitably goes where he always goes when he feels like this- his ‘people I care about’ folder. He swipes through the various pictures. The ones of himself with I.M.P. in the living world, the one he made Moxxie pose with him for with them pointing their guns at each other, the one with Millie when she still had her long hair. The one from the day of Loona’s adoption, the one he took of Stolas sleeping next to him. The selfie with Verosika, the one he secretly took of Y/N watching the screen when he first showed ‘Spirit’ to her.

And then he lands on the one. The one with Barbie and his mom.

Blitzø is a 35 years old single father who kills people for a living. He’s been handling his own shit for almost two decades now. But in this moment… he just wants his mama.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own?

What would she have thought of that?

Yeah, he should have known it would be a ‘cry himself to sleep’ kind of night.

Blitzø doesn’t know for how long he’s been passed out when he wakes up disoriented. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, and that probably explains why his body ached so much with how uncomfortable the position he’d slept in was. He wakes up with the barking sounds of Loona’s special ringtone and scrambles to pick it up.

“Loonie baby? You alright? Did something happen to you, are you hurt?”

“No, Blitz. I just- can you just come pick me up?” She sounds like she’s been crying. Fuck, no, his baby needs him. No time to be sad.

He’s up in a second. “On my way. Send me the address.” He hangs up, searching for his car keys (which he found between the couch seats) and running down the stairs.

Loona went two rings down to Gluttony for this party. It makes sense, he supposes. He’s more of a Lust Ring party kind of guy himself, but he’s heard Gluttony parties got crazy. He accelerates as fast as the shitty van will let him and gets there pretty quickly, only to find her outside, still crying.

He rolls down the window before he even stops the car completely. “Hey, Loonie. How ya doin’, you alright?”

She wipes a tear with the back of her hand and enters the car with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine! I just wanna go.” She sounds anything but fine.

He’s about to ask her what happened when some fuckface he definitely doesn’t remember calls him by name. The wrong one. “Hey! That sounds like Blitzo!”

“The ‘O’ is silent, asshole!”

“Hey, I knew it was you! Fuck, man, where you been? You here for the party?”

“No, I’m just here picking up my daughter.”

The guy walks up to Loona’s window, and she hides her face from him with her hands, embarrassed. “Oh, shit, you have a daughter now?”

“Adopted!” She yells out, and it stings a bit, regardless of being objectively true.

“Oh, man, you’re already leaving? Things just got started! Come in and show us all up again.”

Blitzø groans, annoyed by the insistence. “No, no, thank you, but I think Loonie wants to head back now.”

Some other weirdo approaches the van, leaning on the passenger’s window. “Huh, the hottie wants to leave?” Come on, right in front of him?

He instinctively starts to growl. “Watch it.”

“I mean, we could stay a little longer,” Loona tells him.

He sighs. He’s not normally one to turn down a party, especially one with free booze, but he feels that’s probably what he should do.. “I think we need to go, ‘kay? I think it’s been a long night.”

“Well, these people seem to know you. Come on! I think I wanna give this another try. Pleeeeaaase?” She gives him the goddamn puppy dog eyes and she knows he can already hardly resist fulfilling her requests.

Well, if she insists. He could definitely use a drink…

“Okay, fine. Maybe one drink.”

… Or a good old night of drinking to forget.

Blitzø downs two tequila shots before he’s even made it into the house. He downs four beers at rapid speed as soon as he does manage to get inside, crushing the cans and cheering loudly when he was done, and then suddenly he finds himself saying yes to a keg stand. It’s so easy he can do it in his sleep. Fuck being too old for this, he’d never be too old to have fun. And he can handle so much more than a keg stand. “Ha-ha! That was nothing, bitch! Give me a real challenge!”

Beelzebub herself appears in front of him, seemingly materializing out of nowhere (or maybe he’s just drunk), all cheers and neon colors and psychedelic paraphernalia floating around her, and she does challenge him. “Oh yeah? Wanna fucks with the big bitch, imp boy? I got a challenge for ya.”

Someone somewhere murmurs “He’s gonna die.”

Now that sounds like a challenge he can get behind.

Vortex walks up to them, carrying two huge gallons of something and placing them on the floor between him and the Sin. “Aaaaight, let’s do this! From Bee’s personal supply, the hardest shit there is.” He crouches down to Blitzø’s height. “You ready, my man?”

Fuck, this better fucking kill him alright. “Bring it, barky! I will drink you under this fucking table, you have no idea what kind of night I’ve had.” He struggles trying to pry the gallon open, and Bee uses her magic or whatever to make them levitate, extending a straw from it. Of course she’d flaunt her magical powers and her easy fucking life to him.

“Alright, shit-talker, but there hasn’t been a soul yet who can beat me at my own game, so you better bring the fire, baby!.”

“Ohh, is Queen Bee too scawed to lose to a widdle imp like me?” He bets she is. And he bets she’ll be embarrassed when she loses to him (because she is going to lose). Fucking big names like her always are.

“Oh, okay. Let’s get it on, you little bastard!”

Vortex signs for them to begin and it takes about two seconds for Blitzø to have downed about a fourth of it already, but why stop there? He pulls the straw out and pours the drink straight into his mouth, downing the entirety of it at light speed. He’s so quick Beelzebub even stops chugging her own, amused… Concerned? Noo, no way. Amused.

He climbs on top of the huge gallon to be at face level with her and properly rub it on her face, high on the adrenaline of it all (and perhaps a little bit on the buzz from the extremely strong drink too). “Yeah, who’s the queen now?”

Loona cheers for him loudly, and it fills him with joy when she proudly yells out “yeah! That’s my dad!” Yeah. That’s damn right.

Bee lets her own unfinished gallon fall down to the floor and crosses her arms over her chest. Yeah, definitely impressed. “Well, fuck me. That’s a first. I haven’t had a first in a while. That was magical, seriously. Impressive. I tip my crown to you, imp boy. Respect.” Fuck her still calling him imp boy, but she’s actually admitting his victory and shes bowing to him, as she fucking should.

She howls, every hellhound around following suit, and Blitzø feels on top of the world.

Why does the world start spinning when you get yourself on top of it?

He almost falls to the ground, but then he’s getting held up by a bunch of strangers like a cool-as-fuck goddamn rockstar and, shit, why had he stopped getting wasted and doing this kind of thing every night again?

He doesn’t exactly remember when people started doing body shots off of him but he does remember getting freaky with a few of them, which did very little to make him feel good and honestly felt a little gross with the amounts of drinks getting spilled all over and making things rather… sticky, but it was doing wonders to his thought problem.

Who would have known having four strangers’ tongues inside of you at once could be a great way to muffle the unsolicited thoughts in his head?

The second those people fuck off somewhere else the thoughts come in again, though. Stolas hiding his face in shame behind the menu. Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? Y/n unable to look him in the eye. Are you worried someday I may have enough of it as well? Fizz is gonna hate him forever. You’re not my real dad! Verosika will always regret him. We could just… talk. Or… watch a movie? Or maybe… cuddle? Y/n’s crying face, Stolas’ disappointed one. Oh, they both had such fuckable faces didn’t they? Which reminded him: he really wanted to fuck someone.

He’s making out with a guy whose name he doesn’t know and whose face he doesn’t even remember when Loona pulls him off of him. “Oh, piss on a dick! What the fuck are you doing, Blitz?”

“This guy,” he grins, pointing to the unnamed man, who now stands still behind him. Wasn’t it obvious?

“It looks like you’re in the middle of a goddamn orgy. Stop!” Oh shit. Loona saw all that? An orgy does sound like some real fucking fun right now. Wait, focus, Loona. Fuck.

“Look, I didn’t expect you to come here and see any of this, Loonie, I’m so sorry, but it’s a party! I’m just having fun with uh… uh…” he turns back around to the man Loona pulled him off of. “The fuck is your name again?”

“Dennis.”

Ew. “Christ on a stick, you would be a Dennis. Get the fuck away from me! I’m not fucking a Dennis tonight. I need a Monica or an Alejandro here, stat.” He’s genuinely surprised that works when some hunky dude pulls him into his huuuge chest. Fuck yeah. “Better.”

Loona punches his Alejandro in the face, and he sincerely doesn’t give a fuck about it, because the world is spinning again, which is weird because this time he does not feel like he’s on top of it at all. In fact, it feels like the world is the meanest dom top ever and he’s a whiny, whiny bottom just sore all over from getting spanked ‘till his ass hurt. Not in a good way.

He falls back on Loona, and she catches him. “You don’t need anyone else sucking your face, freaky weirdo.” She throws him over her shoulder. “You need to drink something other than beelzejuice.”

She pulls him into the van, and she doesn’t rush to get home, because, according to her, she can see he’s already about to throw up. No he’s not, no sir! Ma’am. Loonie.

Whatever.

His mind clears a little as they make their way back home, and he pulls out his phone from his back pocket. Thankfully it’s still there.

“The fuck are you doing, dumbass? That’s gonna make you dizzy.”

“Gotta… gotta draw a thing.”

“You gotta draw a thing?”

“Yeah,” he affirms, as if that was enough information for everything to be self-explanatory, even nodding his head yes for emphasis. He surprisingly manages to take his time and put real effort into doodling it, showing it to Loona before sending it.

“Does it look like I did it drunk?” He slurs, letting out an unintentional burp.

“It actually looks pretty good, Blitz.”

“Okay.”

“So. Who’d you call stupid?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay.”

“Can you call me dad again?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.”

He presses send and clicks on Stolas’ contact next, only to see there’s an unread message in their chat.

Stols: I’m sorry if anything I said or did offended you tonight.

Ha. Bet you really fucking are.

Still, he’s not Stolas’ fucking boyfriend. What was there to expect from him? Why would he expect anything?

Blitzy: ITZ WUTEVS

To Blitzø’s surprise, Stolas begins typing immediately, as if he’d been waiting obsessively for his reply.

Stols: Next time you come over, maybe we can talk about what happened at Ozzie’s?

Talk about it? What was there to talk about? Blitzø wanted nothing more than to bury the memories of tonight the deepest under the ground he possibly could. But of course Stolas would want to talk about it.

He always wants to fucking talk about shit.

Blitzy: Y?

Stolas types for what feels like forever, and it must have been, seen that they’re now only one street from the apartment complex, before he sends in a huge-ass paragraph.

Stols: I’m sorry! Nevermind, it’s not a big deal. I was just worried about you. You seemed very upset and you took off so fast. I’m sure things will be fine with Y/N, she likes you very much, I can see it. Maybe I read too much into everything, though. Not everything is about me, haha. I’m glad that’s not the case. I wasn’t upset either I just wanted to make sure you weren’t and obviously you can handle a stupid joke a clown can make. Asmodeus can be very invasive in his humor, and Y/N says she’ll talk to him about it, but I thought it was funny myself. What he said about me at least. I enjoy being the subject of jest. Maybe you can say mean things to me too next time you come over.

Now that is too much to fucking deal with right now. Which means he won’t.

Blitzy: SHUR.

He clicks out of Stolas’ chat, taking one last glance at Y/N’s before turning his phone off. She hasn’t seen what he sent yet, and that’s actually okay.

Loona parks the van messily, doing the same thing he’d done earlier and letting the car occupy some space from the neighbour’s spot. He doesn’t even think before asking her to fix it. “Sweetie, could you just park it a little more to the right?”

“Why?”

Yeah, Blitzø, why do you even care? “Well I don’t want that freaky cat lady to be up my ass about it tomorrow.” Yeah, that. Sure.

She doesn’t seem to find it in her to argue or even as much as groan, simply readjusting the car. She has to carry him over her shoulder again and all he wishes on the way up this time around is that he were a little more sober. She plops him down on the couch and he curls into himself once again while she grabs him a glass of water.

Nothing to distract him from his thoughts now.

“I had a really shitty day,” he tells her.

“Oh, yeah? Is that why you drank like five gallons of who-knows-what?”

“I don’t want her to hate me.”

“The person you called stupid?”

He nods, hiding his face from her when the tears start coming in. “Fuck, Fizz was right. I’m gonna die alone, aren’t I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered waste. Will you be there, Loonie?” Blitzø feels whatever consciousness he’d gained back slipping away again by the second, this time from the need to sleep rather than the alcohol. At what point did he get so tired?

“Be where?” Loona asks, and he’s too out of it to respond properly, only mumbling half-coherent things like lonely and die alone over and over. “I’ll be there, dad," she tells him anyway, and covers him with a blanket, the softest one they own. “Now go the fuck to sleep,” she orders, and he does hear it, he just doesn’t have the strength to say anything in response as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, his last thoughts being that at least he can’t think about anything while asleep and that…

He vomits all over the living room floor.

“Oh, fuck, I did need to throw up.”

[. . .]

You feel stupid when it’s Fizzarolli who finds you crying in Ozzie’s waiting area. He skips his way to the room, humming along to some song you can’t quite make out, and he almost doesn’t see you on his way into the office. He hears you sniffling, though, and turns to face you. It takes him a couple seconds to process that it’s you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Um. You okay there?”

You look up at him, but it doesn’t feel like you can say anything yet.

“I-” He motions behind him with his thumb. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna get Ozzie. Stay here, yeah?”

You don’t even know why exactly you’d asked Stolas to send you here when you were still mad at Ozzie. Or maybe not mad. Just… sad about everything that spiraled out of what he did.

Then again, did you even have anywhere else to go? You could absolutely not make the night worse for Millie and Moxxie by showing up at their place, thinking of Blitzø made you sad and Stolas was not an option. You had Ozzie, though. And you know you always will, despite whatever stupid shit one of you might do.

And it honestly beats going home to a big pile of nothing.

Ozzie appears shortly, Fizz having done as promised and fetched him. Fizz doesn’t come back, though, letting you and Ozzie have a moment to talk on your own, which is nice of him.

“Hey, pretty babe. Fizz said you were here.” He looks you up and down, worried. “Are you crying?”

“Why did you do that?”

“What?”

“Why did you fucking sing about all that, why did you- it was so humiliating, Oz, fuck!”

“Oh. I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It got out of control. I didn’t even know you would be here tonight. You didn’t call me.”

“I didn’t know I was coming either.”

“You wanna tell me what that means?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Alright. That’s okay. I am sorry, though. We took the joke too far and I realized too late that it wasn’t funny.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t. So please don’t fucking do that again. It’s humiliating enough to… fuck... and everybody saw it, and- I…” You groan in frustration, struggling to get your words out.

“No more about Stolas or any of you. Okay? Promise.” He sits down next to you on the fancy couch and he lets you lean on him. “Did something happen between you?”

You hesitate before speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I am stupid. Of course he’s ashamed to be seen with us.”

“Stolas?”

You nod.

“Did he… tell you that?”

“Well he didn’t deny it.”

“Okay." He takes a deep breath, probably trying to think of how to handle the situation. "You’ll have time to think about all of this. Alright? Now you’re coming with me, you’re taking a bath and you’re sleeping over, and we’ll talk about everything tomorrow. There’s no need to hurt yourself more thinking about it right now.”

He stands up and turns to leave the room, but looks back when he doesn’t hear you do the same. You’re still sat sit still on the couch.

You look up at him. “Oz?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You repeat yourself.

“What- of course not. Did somebody say that to you?”

You don’t reply.

He purses his lips together, thinking. “Are they worth feeling stupid for?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve gone through this before.”

“It’s different, you know that.”

“Yeah, it’s worse. They’re not hurting you back this time around, they’re just hurting you.”

You decide he was right. You don't want to talk about this right now. “Can we please not talk about it?”

He hesitates before nodding in agreement. “Yeah. ‘Course, babe.” He grabs your hands and pulls you up. “Come on.”

All the crying makes you so tired you’re almost passed out the second you lie down on the soft, silky bedsheets of Ozzie's guest room bed. Taking a look through your texts before you let yourself fall asleep, you click on Stolas’ contact once you see a notification for an unread text.

Stolas: I am truly sorry if I did something to hurt you or make you uncomfortable with me tonight. It’s not your obligation to talk Asmodeus out of doing anything and I did not feel embarrassed because of you or Blitz. If you need space from me I will understand, but I want you to know that is not how I feel. And, for the record, I don’t care what that Verosika person said about you. I hope you’re alright.

It is way too late and you are way too tired to process or deal with all of that, and honestly? You still do feel stupid, and don’t want to further that feeling by replying to him immediately. That feels too pathetic- it feels like proving Blitzø right.

You’ll reply tomorrow.

You click on Blitzø’s contact next, which also had a notification signaling an unseen message, and you brace yourself for a 'fuck you’ text or something of the sorts.

You can't keep yourself from smiling when you open the text, turning the phone off and just waiting for sleep come to you, and things feel a lot less shitty than just a second before.

Having friends is pretty fucking okay.

A/N: everybody say thank you @sweetadonisbutbetter and also wish them a happy birthday!! the adorable little doodle blitzo drew is theirs and they did it especially so i could put it in this chapter which is so nice of them and so fucking cool!!

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anthurak · 6 days

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So by this point, I think many of us are likely familiar with the idea that the breakup of Team RWBY at the end of Volume 3 is meant to thematically parallel the breakup of Team STRQ in the wake of Summer’s death, ie; Ruby falls into a coma for a few days while Summer disappears and then both their teams fracture. Along with a popular sub-theory that Blake leaving Yang after the Fall is meant to parallel Raven leaving Tai.

But the thing is, if Ruby falling into a coma at the end of Volume 3 is meant to parallel Summer’s (supposed) death and the way this loss caused the fracturing and breakup of their respective teams, then Raven’s actions DON’T really parallel Blake nearly as well as a lot of people think.

And in fact, I feel like Qrow could potentially have paralleled Blake’s actions FAR better.

Like people talk about how Raven ‘abandoned’ Tai just like Blake ran away from Yang after the Fall of Beacon. Except if the point of parallel to the Fall of Beacon is Summer’s death, then the parallel doesn’t work because Raven was ALREADY GONE from Team STRQ by the time Summer disappeared. To the point where Tai, Qrow and Ozpin had (and still have) NO IDEA she was even involved in whatever happened to Summer. Raven can’t exactly have abandoned Tai just like Blake did to Yang if Raven wasn’t even around.

Instead, as I’ve discussed in the past, I think Raven’s actions following Summer’s ‘death’ potentially line up far better with WEISS. Like if it turns out that losing Summer was what actually drove Raven to return to her tribe, then that lines up very nicely with Weiss being taken back to her family/Atlas in the wake of the Fall of Beacon: Both return to the shitty, abusive family that raised them. And given how much of Weiss’s character is tied up in her family and their ‘legacy’, then the way Raven eventually took over her tribe makes her an ideal foil; effectively representing a Weiss who did eventually take over the Schnee family and company, but in the process internalized all the pain and trauma her family gave her.

And as for a cherry on top; if Ruby falling into a coma after the Fall of Beacon is meant to parallel Summer’s supposed ‘death’, then what was one of the last things Ruby did at the Fall?

Run off on a special mission with Weiss, just like we now know Summer did with Raven.

Now going back to my point about how Raven was not even around to abandon Tai just like Blake did to Yang, you know who WAS presumably around when Summer ‘died’?

Yeah; Qrow.

Let’s consider what exactly Blake actually did following the Fall of Beacon beyond just a surface-level reading: Yes, she did go back to her family, similar to what Raven may have done, but given that the Belladonnas are NOT actually shitty and abusive, I maintain that Weiss is still the better parallel to Raven. Instead, let’s consider Blake’s whole arc across Volumes 4 and 5 relating to the White Fang: At first being depressed over loss and perceived failure before being inspired to start working for a better cause, in this case pushing back against and stopping Adam’s takeover of the White Fang.

So I have to wonder; what if this reflects what Qrow did with Ozpin and the conspiracy following Summer’s ‘death’? Maybe Qrow and his teammates had helped Ozpin in the past and knew what he was doing, but what if THIS was the point where Qrow became fully committed to Ozpin’s cause and joined the Ozluminati full-time? Perhaps seeing it as a way of ‘honoring’ Summer’s memory.

Instead of staying with the one teammate he had left (and possible partner) who was now in a massive depressive spiral AND had two kids to take care of.

It starts to make Qrow and Tai feel a lot like Blake and Yang, doesn’t it?

This is one of the big reasons why I think Qrow and Tai are the REAL foil to Bumbleby on Team STRQ. They effectively give us a look at a version of Blake and Yang whose relationship failed. Or rather, were never able to ‘take the next step’ and actually form their relationship.

Qrow is a Blake who fully internalized her self-loathing and belief that she didn’t deserve Yang or that Yang was better off without her and has simply been pining for Yang from afar.

Meanwhile Tai is a Yang who likewise fully internalized her fears of abandonment and fully resents Blake for leaving her or may not have ever even fully recognized her feelings for Blake in the first place.

Essentially, Qrow and Tai are the version of Blake and Yang who weren’t able to work through all the problems, issues and baggage which allowed them to actually start their relationship. Like a Blake who didn’t get that vital pep-talk from Sun at the end of Volume 4, or a Yang who likewise didn’t get that vital talk from Weiss in Volume 5.

Which in turn leads us to what I brought up earlier with Qrow joining up with the Ozluminati full-time, essentially representing a Blake who threw herself into reforming the White Fang instead of returning to Team RWBY and reconnecting with Yang. Meanwhile Tai simply throws himself into a deep depression, grief and ‘moping’, ironically all the things he would later accuse Yang of doing (at some point I’m going to do a post on just how much PROJECTING Tai has likely been doing…)

So now Qrow and Tai have this low-key toxic relationship where Qrow is more-or-less aware of Tai’s extremely dysfunctional parenting but has also been enabling it and a lot of Tai’s unhealthy coping mechanisms over the years because he’s been pining for Tai ever since their Beacon days and still is pining in a very depressed, self-loathing ‘I don’t deserve him/to be happy’ way and also doesn’t want to risk conflict with his former partner and also the only teammate he has left.

Thus Qrow keeps his distance and just goes along with Tai’s dysfunctions and/or lets Tai push him away. Which in turn just reinforces Tai’s abandonment issues.

And Ruby and Yang are still stuck with utterly dysfunctional parental figures.

Oh, and if you need more proof about the deliberate parallels between Blake and Qrow…

youtube

Then how about the whole damn song where they sing about how they’ve always felt terrible about themselves but now things are looking up for them.

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mmogurl · 13 days

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Daddy Issues Part 2: Baseline

18+ | 2k | Homelander X Reader | protective homelander, reader’s back story is a little dark, reader might be a bit of a nympho, mentions of suicide, rape, assault, alcoholism, emotional child abuse.

My Own Writing Prompt: What if Homelander became your Daddy and was really good at it? I'm really enjoying this story so far and found myself eager to write more the next day, even after proofing a 7k chapter for my Daemon story! If you haven't read the first part yet, it's here. Part 1: Savior | Part 2: Baseline | Part 3: Spoiled | Part 4: Comfort

The first thing that strikes you about Homelander’s penthouse in Vought Tower, is how impersonal it is. It has just about as much character as the sterile white walls of a hospital room. You might even confuse it for a museum given the sheer volume of aged paintings on the walls, but most exhibitions would have more color and identity than this drab space.

You can’t help but wonder who Homelander is, because this environment certainly doesn’t tell you much. There are no pictures of him, save for the massive American flag that spans the wall behind you, and the only gaudy knick-knacks present are nonsensical shapes coated in gold. In fact, everything is gold, except for the milky white of the statues peppered throughout the floorplan, the dusky blue walls, and the brown leather couch you sit upon.

Homelander stands across from you next to the giant television screen, staring at you with an unease that you cannot place. In fact, just like his living space, he is quite difficult to read. The lingering effects of traumatic shock make this whole encounter feel even more surreal, your mind and body seeming almost disconnected from reality.

“Is this real life?” you blurt out, remembering that poor kid whose parents recorded him after he’d had dental surgery, still under the effects of anesthesia.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” he spits back with an incredulous sneer.

You quickly realize that Homelander is one of the few men in this world that actually looks kind of hot when he’s being petulant. You tuck this fun fact to the side for now.

“It’s just…” you continue as he glares at you impatiently. “I’m sitting in your home… In Homelander’s home.” The similarity between your locale and his supe name makes you laugh pointedly, an inside joke you’re sure he won’t care for. “It’s kind of far fetched, isn’t it?” you finally state rhetorically, because really it is a stretch that you would ever find yourself here and under such circumstances.

“What? I’m the Homelander. Of course I save people. It’s kind of my fucking job,” he shrugs your observation off as his brow furls in reproach.

“Ok, sure,” you agree tentatively. “But, is it also your job to take the people you save home with you?” It seemed like a valid question, but he certainly doesn’t seem to agree.

“What did you expect me to do?” he marches towards you, holding his hands up to the ceiling. “Leave you there like that?”

“Well, no…” you consider in your slow state of comprehension. “But you could have taken me to the hospital I guess.”

He scoffs with a big huff of air through his lips as he stops in front of you, his arms now crossed against his chest.

“Fat chance. They would just let you out again the moment your physical health was cleared,” he replies in an almost gloating manner, his expression now softening slightly with condescension. “Oho, no,” he waggles a finger from side to side as if to enhance the denial further. “You need someone to save you from yourself. Someone to keep you from fucking up.”

“What?” you ask, quirking your brow and crinkling your nose at him.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he cocks his head to the side slightly, clasping his hands behind his back as he begins to pace to the side, keeping his deep ocean eyes glued to you. “You’re going to stay with me for awhile. Get your act together.”

“Get my- What!? What do you even know about my life? You literally just saved me off the street and you’re making assumptions?? Acting like you know me or something?” You can’t help but get emotional. After all, being judged always makes you feel defensive.

“Oh, I know plenty, doll… Plenty,” he stops for a moment, facing you before turning directions and walking back the way from which he came. “First you’re gonna stop the drinking. Maybe we’ll even get you into some fucking therapy or a Sexaholics Anonymous support group, because there’s obviously something going on up there that’s causing you to act like this.”

“Oh yes, while I’m there, I’ll tell them how I’m being held hostage by fucking Homelander! I’m sure they’ll get a kick out of that.” You can’t help but roll your eyes and shake your head.

However, you do not expect the swift retribution that comes as he closes the gap between you both and grabs your chin, your jaw in his hand. “Do not test my patience,” he sounds furious, his voice grating against his teeth as he speaks with his lips no farther than an inch away from your face. “I’m trying to help you, you ungrateful little shit.”

He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath, abruptly releasing your chin so swiftly that your head lurches back from the motion. A whirlwind of thought floods your mind. How does he know so much about you? Are you really trapped here with him and how does he intend to keep you here? Will anybody even notice your gone or bother to come looking for you? All of these questions coupled with the feeling of being seen in your rawest form by a stranger is enough to make you want to fall apart. And you certainly try your best to never cry in front of anyone if you can help it.

“And why do you give a shit?” you ask, already feeling the telltale heat of tears forming in the corners of your eyes. God damnit! “Nobody else ever has.”

The hurt in your voice is evident and you're surprised when Homelander breaks away from you. He walks off down the hall until he’s out of sight and you can hear a drawer open and shut. He returns with a somber expression on his face and a couple of tissues in his hand that he holds out. You take them swiftly, resenting that he has seen you cry, but appreciating that he has given you a way to dispose of this irritating sign of weakness.

“And how could you possibly know that? Hm?” he asks finally breaking the silence, save for your sniffling. “That nobody gives a shit. Clearly I do.”

Something twists inside your gut at being brought so low. You do not like to dwell on these feelings. You don’t want to face them if you can avoid it. But, Homelander, America’s most powerful supe, is seeing you for who you are and despite that is still claiming to care about you. Oddly enough, the disturbing nature of his rationale and how he intends to force you to change against your own wishes does not seem to linger in your thoughts.

What does stay is that he cares. For you. You cannot help the flood of unwanted leaking that spills from your eyes.

“Shh, shh,” he is suddenly consoling you. “I know what’s good for you. You’re going to be alright.” His voice is reassuring as he pats you on the shoulder and rubs soothingly in small circles. You wonder if this line is rehearsed from one of his movies because it sounds familiar and so natural, unlike everything else about him.

Regardless, you can’t help but bury your face into his stomach, turning your head to the side as you wrap your arms around his waist. You have not felt a sense of comfort like this in a very long time and you almost forget that you are weeping like a baby.

“I don’t deserve it,” you find yourself whimpering against his torso, leaving wet tear stains on his suit. “Even my parents didn’t think I was good enough to love.”

He scoffs against his lips once more. It’s not a sign of annoyance this time, but disdain for the lack of kindness you’ve received in your life. “Fuck your parents,” he says with contempt. “I’ll take care of you. Hell, I’ll be your fucking Daddy, and show you what your father clearly failed to.”

You’re blown away by his proclamation. My Daddy? What the fuck is he talking about?

You pull back and look up at him, your eyes wide and wet from crying. He looks down at you without a hint of doubt in his expression. He is completely serious.

“What didn’t he show me?” you ask almost dumbstruck by the situation. It is the only thing you can think to utter.

“That you should stop selling yourself short.” His blue eyes were clear without insinuation as a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “That you’re worth more.”

Homelander’s gloved hand slid along the line of your jaw, softly, almost tenderly. And then, just like that, he snapped out of his sympathetic trance and gave you one of those camera ready grins.

“Whelp! First things first,” he said keeping that blithe expression with his cheekbones raised high as he gained some distance away from you. “I’m gonna have to get you a copy of the key card and get you some new clothes. And, I guess until I can get you your own bed, you can just sleep with me.”

He rattled all of this off as though it were perfectly normal. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but you can’t help but ask the obvious questions. “If I get a copy of the key, then what’s to stop me from leaving and going home?”

“Hah! Don’t even think about it, sweetheart,” he says with a deriding laugh. “I know where you live for one. And let’s face it! There’s nowhere you can hide from me. So taking off without permission would only serve to piss me off.” You listen as his tone mimics the ups and downs of a particularly peaked roller coaster ride, going from warning to jovial. “So, let’s not do that, alright?”

“Alright,” you agree because what else are you really going to say to the man who can laser you in half just like he did to your attempted rapist not long ago. Besides, he is being rather nice and you do hate your fucking job so much. “Do I still have to work?” you ask chaining off of that thought.

“God no,” he sneers as though the idea were outlandish. “No, you don’t have to work. In fact, I’d prefer you didn’t. You can sit around and do whatever you want. Go wherever you want. As long as you let me know and make time for me when I require it.”

You have to admit, this is sounding better and better. “What about my stuff? Can’t I just go and get it then?”

Homelander winces almost mockingly. “No can do,” he offers his feigned condolences. “I think it’s better to just start off fresh, hm? Besides, I can get you anything you want. Why bother holding onto any of that junk?” It sounds like a question, but once again is clearly more of a demand.

“What about pictures? My collectibles?” you ask, because in truth, the only things you really care about, your only good memories from your childhood, can’t easily be replaced.

He rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms, raising one hand to his chin in contemplation. “You really want to remember those assholes?”

You consider his words and begin to think he might be right. Maybe a fresh start would be best. It seemed looking back at old pictures of your mother only ever served to make you upset and bitter.

“Fine,” you acquiesce, “But I want my video games. I have a small fortune in vintage Playstation discs that I’m not letting go.”

Homelander gives you a torn little grimace, shaking his head until he’s nodding. “Fine,” he capitulates without anger.

And now it seems like you’re finally striking some kind of accord together. A baseline for how things will be between you both. It seems clear that he is a bit of a control freak and you understand that quite implicitly because you’re one as well. The only thing left to be discovered is whether or not the two of you will enjoy each other’s company or be driven crazy by it. Continue to Part 3

#homelander fanfiction #homelander x reader #homelander #homelander x you #fanfic #writing prompt #antony starr

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madame-mortician · 1 year

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Random Evil Dead Fun Facts!

Because I'm hyperfixated on it :P

Originally, Ash was supposed to lose an eye in Army of Darkness, but this was scrapped.

Currently Evil Dead (2013) has the most fake blood used in a film, with 50,000 gallons being used. This isn't that suprising considering that during the final 10 minutes of the film, it is raining blood non-stop.

Freddy Krueger's glove is in the workshed in Evil Dead 2. This is a reference to how in A Nightmare on Elm Street, Nancy watched The Evil Dead. Ironically, that was a nod to how Wes Craven's "The Hills have Eyes" poster was in The Evil Dead. That in turn was a nod to how in The Hills have Eyes a torn Jaws poster is seen on the walls. Very confusing easter egg.

Ironically, Ash actually does say the correct words during the Necronomicon scene in Army of Darkness, but it's hard to hear due to Bruce Campbell coughing his way through it, which sounds like something Ash would do honestly.

Speaking of that scene in Army of Darkness, it is actually established that Ash isn't good at remembering phrases, shown by the scene in The Evil Dead, where Ash tries to recite a greek quote but fucks it up.

Evil Dead Rise confirms that the original trilogy takes place in the same universe as the remake and Evil Dead Rise. For one, they confirm there are three volumes of the Necronomicon, being the ones seen in Army of Darkness. The first Necronomicon, Necronomicon Ex-Mortis, was found by Prof. Knowby and read by Ash and his friends. The second book, Naturom Demonto, is the one Mia found in her family cabin and the final one, also named Naturom Demonto, is the one locked in the bank vault in Evil Dead Rise.

Each deadite in Evil Dead Rise has different eyes referencing the older ones. Ellie has unique silver eyes, Bridget and the neighbours have golden yellow eyes (like in the 2013 film) and Danny has pupilless white eyes (like in the original trilogy.)

The character names in Evil Dead (2013) start with letters that spell the word "DEMON" (David, Eric, Mia, Olivia and Natalie.)

Similarly, the building in Evil Dead Rise, the Monde, is an anagram for Demon as well.

A reocurring theme in the Evil Dead films, is a sister getting possessed and tormenting their sibling. This is shown with Cheryl and her brother Ash, Mia and her brother David, Ellie and her sister Beth and Bridget and her siblings Danny and Kassie.

All the characters in Evil Dead Rise are named after actors from the Evil Dead films, which I elaborate on here.

Originally Army of Darkness was named "Medieval Dead."

The original ending of Army of Darkness showed Ash waking up in a post-apocolyptic future, but it was changed to the more optimistic ending. Despite both Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell preferring the original ending, the redone ending was used to continue the story with Ash VS Evil Dead.

The original ending was also supposed to lead into Evil Dead 4, where Ash would've fought deadites in the future with robots and other futuristic tropes, but because the ending was changed this never happened. Ironically, the same thing happened to Ash VS Evil Dead, when Season 3 ended on a cliffhanger so that the next season could be in the post-apocalyptic future, but this too was cancelled.

The German version of Army of Darkness incorporates both endings. It starts with the deleted ending, where Ash incorrectly takes 7 drops instead of 6, but as he sleeps it cuts to black and says Ash began dreaming over the centuries. Then it cuts to the regular ending where Ash is in the supermarket and is hailed as a hero before cutting back to him waking up in the post-apocalyptic future. Ironically this is my favourite ending, but it's not-canon.

Evil Dead (2013) had a bunch of different endings before settling on the, supposedly, canon one. One ending had Mia simply leave and the film ends, another had her go to leave before being jumped by a demon (like in The Evil Dead's ending), another had her collapse on the road and get rescued only to reveal she was still possessed and another had her go to leave but start floating before she exploded. The canon one is likely the theatrical ending where she simply walks away, and since we never see Mia again we have nothing to confirm or deny this.

The Abomination from Evil Dead (2013) is inspired by the poster of The Evil Dead, which depicts a woman being dragged into a grave. The Abomination even does the same pose when it rises.

Speaking of The Evil Dead posters, the promo images for The Evil Dead, showed Bruce Campbell and Bridget Hoffman being attacked by a skeleton prop, and defending themselves with a chainsaw. Despite being in all the promotional images and being on the literal cover, Bridget Hoffman was not in the film, though it's likely she is supposed to be a stand-in for Linda. She also played a cameo role as a sword fighter in Army of Darkness, and the voice of the Lori doll in Ash VS Evil Dead.

In The Evil Dead originally it was written that the characters would be smoking weed whilst listening to the tapes, perhaps as a way to explain why they would willingly play the tape, and as a way to rationalise the characters dumb decisions for the rest of the film. This however, was scrapped when the actors did smoke weed for the shot, but got too high and became uncontrollable.

The opening shot of The Evil Dead was filmed by Sam Raimi who stood on a boat, whilst Bruce Campbell pushed him along.

One of the demon passages in The Evil Dead translates to "Sam and Rob are the hikers on the road" a reference to the fact that the two hitchhikers at the start of the film are literally Sam Raimi and Rob Tapert.

During The Evil Dead, a cameraman slipped and dropped his camera onto Bruce Campbell's face, which caused several of his teeth to fall out.

Apparently during filming for Evil Dead 2, after one of the slapstick scenes Bruce Campbell heard somebody making funny noises above him and thought they were making fun of his performance, only for it to turn out that guy got electrocuted. I say apparently because even though Campbell said this himself, he could've been kidding.

Originally the idea with Evil Dead (2013) was that it would get a sequel, similar to Evil Dead 2 but with Mia, and then Ash's story would get a sequel with Army of Darkness 2, and then a third sequel would be made that would have Mia and Ash's stories merge and have the two characters meet, explaining the random after-credits scene in 2013. For some reason they never made the sequel to Evil Dead (2013) and the sequel to Army of Darkness was scrapped for Ash VS Evil Dead instead. The 2013 sequel was replaced with Evil Dead Rise, and Bruce Campbell has since retired as Ash in live-action.

In Japan, Army of Darkness is called "Captain Supermarket" probably being in reference to how Ash works in retail.

So far Evil Dead Rise is the only Evil Dead film without Ash's yellow delta, though apparently the chainsaw used by Beth is the same exact colour as the delta, being a double-reference.

Speaking of the delta, Ash's car appears in Evil Dead (2013), sitting abandoned in front of the cabin. It is most likely just an easter egg and has no lore implications.

Mia and David are half-siblings with different fathers. Originally it was intended for Mia to be Ash's daughter, but this was changed by Raimi. Ironically Ash did end up getting a daughter in the TV show.

Speaking of, Mia was supposed to appear in Ash VS Evil Dead, but it’s likely she wouldn’t have fit since her movie and experience was way darker than Ash’s, and she wouldn’t fit the tone.

The canonical reason Evil Dead (2013) is so similar to The Evil Dead is because the Necronomicon can cause history to repeat itself and likely lured the 5 friends to the cabin (which could also explain why some of the randoms are even here). This is why the 5 characters play very similar roles to the original film, Eric is Scotty, Natalie is Linda, Olivia is Shelly, and David is Ash whilst Mia is Cheryl. The reason Mia survives instead of David, and becomes more like Ash in the finale is likely that when David saved Mia, which Ash failed to do with Cheryl, the Necronomicon decided David should die and Mia should take Ash's role instead. It's also possible that David took the role of Annie in the finale, with him helping before being killed last second, but this is a bit of a stretch.

Bruce Campbell has two cameos in Evil Dead Rise. First is his voice being heard on the first tape Danny plays, where he plays a priest yelling “It’s called the Book of the Dead for a reason!” The second is simply the biting noises when Ellie bites Gabriel’s eye out, being Bruce Campbell furiously biting an apple.

Lee Cronin (Writer/Director of Evil Dead Rise) stated that Bruce Campbell’s cameo was intended to actually be Ash Williams himself. His reasoning was that Ash has found himself in the wrong time period a lot, and it would make sense for a time-displaced Ash to try and get rid of the Necronomicon in the past, before shit hits the fan.

Chet Kaminski was invited by Ash to go with them to the cabin. He chose not to come because Cheryl was also going and he didn’t want Ash to find out he was dating his sister as he feared it would end their friendship. This ultimately ended up saving his life.

In the Evil Dead films, the only characters to be possessed after they died were Scotty, Eric, David, Danny and the neighbours (Evil Dead Rise).

Shelly is never mentioned ever again after The Evil Dead. Scotty is mentioned once, in Ash VS Evil Dead.

Whilst shooting the recap scenes in Evil Dead 2, originally it was intended to have The Evil Dead be more closely followed, with Scotty, Cheryl and Shelly being there with Ash and not just Linda. Sam Raimi himself was going to play Scotty, but it was scrapped in favour of it being only Linda. It’s this recap that led to many fans and viewers being confused and assuming Evil Dead 2 was a retcon or remake when it was not. They couldn’t simply use footage from The Evil Dead due to licensing issues.

#fun facts #evil dead #the evil dead #evil dead 2 #army of darkness #ash williams #mia allen #evil dead 2013 #evil dead rise #evil dead franchise #evil dead ii #bruce campbell #ash vs evil dead

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hungharrington · 1 year

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okay sooo I read the steeb sending audios blurb and loved it and this is the more wholesome version but just imagine steeb who’s out w eddie and he’s out of his mind drunk sending u audios or even calling u to tell u what he’s doing every 2 mins bc he’s just so drunk and misses his baby 😭🙏 and eddie is just like so done w it

this is so damn cute 😭 and the reversal of him being the one out drinking? TOO CUTE here’s the nsfw blurb lol

At 1am, you’re doing the reasonable thing; sleeping.

Tucked up, having dozed off hours ago, you don’t notice the buzz of your phone on the bedside table. It lights up, face down, illuminating the 4 previous missed calls. You slumber on, unaware.

At 1am, Steve is stumbling down the street besides Eddie, his phone clutched tightly in his grasp as he pouts down at the screen. You’re not picking up.

“Steve, man, c’mon, they’re probably asleep,” Eddie’s voice of reason chimes in beside him.

He’s drunk too, just not nearly as much as Steve. A burning cigarette sits between his lips and he’s watching with amusement at how much Steve seems to be stumbling, too focused on his phone between his hands. Steve throws back his head and lets out a pained noise at Eddie’s words.

“S’just wanna- I wanna talk to my baby. M’gonna try it again.”

He punches his finger against the screen and dials your number. Steve squishes the phone against his ear and stops walking, his free hand coming out to grab a pole on the street. Eddie spots what he thinks is a cat, digging around in a trash can and perks up, crouching to start trying to make friends with it.

The ringing of the phone stops and Steve gasps in excitement, just for his heart to plummet when he realises it’s your voicemail. It’s nice to hear your voice but it’s also cruel; he still can’t talk to you.

He swings around the pole dramatically, the other hand still pressing his phone to his ear. When the beep to begin leaving a message sounds, Steve scrambles to think of what to say.

“Baby,” He’s got this faux stern voice on. “I -hic!- can’t believe you’re schleeping.” His drunken hiccups have started. He spins around the pole again.

“Sleeping! When I, me, Steve, your sweetheart, needs a kiss. And a hug. Both. I -hic!- miss you.”

This time, he spins around the pole too fast and stumbles to gain his balance, his eyes finding Eddie’s crouched form over by some trash bins. Steve giggles, relaying the information over the phone, “Eddie is- S’Eddie talking to the trash because ‘m too busy talking to you.”

He giggles again and when you listen to this the next day, you’ll have to pull your phone away from your ear because Steve shouts at full volume. “HEY EDDIE!”

There’s a scuffle in the background of the recording and you can hear Eddie yell back, “Look Steve! A friend!”

Then there’s a banging noise, like someone’s shoved the trash cans over, another scuffling sound as Eddie gets closer to Steve. It silent for a moment before Steve goes, “Oh my god, that’s a raccoon.” before the recording ends.

Steve has no memory of the voicemail the next day— but with how it sends you into stitches, sides hurting with laughter the next morning, it’s a permanent memory for you.

#all sweetness no smut? who am i #this isn’t that hungharrington stuff #KIDDING! the hungharrington stuff is. love <3 #and i loved this idea #jay writes #anon #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington

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t3ag3rs · 1 month

Text

g e n s o - 1 4.

was this rushed? sorta. does it matter anymore? a bit.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

*ping!*

you turn over from your position on the bed and pick up your phone. 'who in the hell is texting me in the middle of the night?' you squint your eyes as you adjust to the bright light emitting from your phone.

"who is this..?" you mumble seeing a random contact text you.

you gasp sitting up and widening your eyes. you read the message and quickly save the contact under one name- bakugou.

"hey genso. u up?"

"yea wsp"

"im bored and ur the only one up."

"do u wanna do sum?"

"sure but what" "fuck that. u wanna ft?"

you let out a muffled squeal kicking your legs giddily. 'yo no way chat- is this w rizz??' you quickly turn on your side lamp and sit against your head board.

"yea sure. js call whenever"

bakuhoe😰‼️ is calling...

you answer looking at bakugou through the screen and feel your mind blank at the sight.

hes laying in bed.

arms folded under his chin.

shirtless.

muscles showing in all their glory.

and shirtless.

"sup' genso" he grins slightly, "put a damn shirt on- your ruining my perfect vision" u groan playfully covering your eyes. he rolls his eyes adjusting so that he was propped up on his forearms now, "that better?" he smirks.

"ugh- your so annoying..!" you chuckle causing him to join in lightly as well. "but genuine question.. dont you usually sleep early? why are you up so late?" you ask curiously.

"i was jus' thinkin'... " he mumbles looking down, picking at his pillow slightly.

"bout' what?" you question, sensing a change in his tone.

"how do you know if you like someone..?" he asks quickly- almost too quick.

"woahhhh.." you tease, "does kacchan have a crushhhhh?" you say sarcastically.

"shut up genso! just answer the damn question!" he yells making you put down the volume quickly.

"okokok!" you chuckle, "i mean- if you like a person you should feel this like- jittery feeling in you stomach- but not in the 'im-scared-to-present-in-front-of-the-class-way.' its like a warm feeling yk?" you say as you look down, eyes softening slightly.

"anytime that person is mentioned you immediately listen in, and every time you see them its like everything around you just..." you trail off.

"stops." he finishes softly, glancing at you through his phone. he took notes of the way your hair slightly fell over the side of your eyes and the old acne scars littered across a tiny spot on your cheek that he suddenly found endearing.

"yea.. you should feel as if every time your with them the world just goes quiet.." you mutter looking up at him through your phone. memorizing every inch of his face, like how one strand of his hair fell instead of spiking up and how his lips seem to pucker slightly when he isnt scowling.

you shuffle quietly and place your phone on your night stand before laying down to face it. "soooo..." you start awkwardly as you yawn.

"so..?" he replies mirroring your position. "you tired genso?" he asks, noticing your yawn.

you nod slightly, "a bit yeah.. we need to wake up early tomorrow no?" you mumble glancing up at him through droopy eyes.

he nods, holding back a small smile. "yeah- yeah we do genso..." he says slightly softer than usual as he watches your eyes droop.

"you wanna stay on call..?" you suggest tiredly as you close your eyes.

"oh..uh- sure.." he says feeling his cheeks heating up. "night genso.." he says softly.

"night baku.." you mumble, trailing off slightly as you feel yourself fall asleep.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

bakugou lays down and sets his phone next to him. he glances at your peacefully sleeping face and lets out a low curse as he props himself up on his elbow and takes a quick screenshot.

he quickly lays back down as a wave of embarrassment and realization hits him. 'Whyd i do that?? god bakugou pull yourself together..!'

he groans softly feeling frustrated that he didnt know what to do. "i cant like her.. theres no time for that now..! i have to train-" he mutters.

he glances at you on his phone again. his eyes soften slightly before he tears his gaze away "no. i cant- i would just end up hurting her." he sighs.

he ends the call.

'she deserves better..'

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you walk to school with music blaring in your ears.

you had so many questions.

who did bakugou like?

howd he get your number?

whyd he call you instead of everyone else?

how come the call ended after just an hour?

you sit in your seat before quickly stealing a glance at bakugous seat only to find him not there. 'weird.. bakugous usually always early..' you take out your phone to send him a text.

"where r u?"

you wait as you see him read your message.

"yk i can see that u read it right?"

"i dont feel good is all.""woke up and felt like shit"

"are u coming down with smth?' "i can take notes for u if u want"

"no its fine.""i dont need ur pity."

you purse your lips as you read his messages. there was obviously something more to it, but you didnt pry.

"okay well feel better then.."

he reacts to the message with a thumbs up. you roll your eyes'bros tryna be nonchalant but it isnt working out..' you cant help but chuckle at your own thoughts, 'man no one makes me laugh the way i do..'

once class started you pulled out an extra sheet and started writing notes for bakugou just in case he may want them even though he said he didnt.

finally, the bell rang signaling the end of the day. you pack your stuff and walk over to bakugous house for the first time since elementary.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you knock the door softly before adjusting your hair. as the door opens you smile to see mistuki at the door.

"y/n!!" she exclaims hugging you tightly.

you smile hugging back, "hi mrs. bakugouuuuu..!"

you grin up at her, "ive just brought some notes for katsu- sorry- bakugou. is he feeling any better..?" you ask, turning slightly worried.

"oh hun, i dont even know.. hes locked himself up there all day. he hasnt ate or anything.." she says sighing and rubbing her temples. "can you please do me a favor and go up there with some food and see if he'll listen to you?"

you widen your eyes "i dont know about tha-..!" you yelp as she pulls you in and hands you a plate to take upstairs.

"thanks hun! your the best!" she laughs, pushing you up.

you walk up quietly and knock on his door, "bakugou...?" you call out, "its ..y/n i brought you the notes and some food... open the door- please..?" you ask nervously.

you hear some shuffling before the door opens slightly revealing a tired looking katsuki with a shirt pulled halfway down.

"can i come in..?" you ask with a small awkward smile.

he nods and opens the door for you to walk in. "thought i said i didnt need the notes genso..." he mutters gravely.

"yeah well.. i figured you wouldnt wanna stress about doing it so.." you trail off placing the notes down and looking around his room. "it hasnt changed much huh..?" you say with a soft smile. noticing a photo that looked much to familiar you walk up to his bedstand, "is that..?"

he nods, "yea.." he croaks out as he sits down on his bed.

you pull out your phone showing the same photo in your phone case with a smile. "its one of my favorites.." you admit, sitting next to him and handing him the food. "here- you should eat if you wanna get better.."

he nods and grabs the bowl from you as he starts to eat. you glance back to the photo on his bedstand.

it was you and bakugou when you were younger.

you two were tangled together sleeping side by side with only one thing in common,

the all might themed friendship bracelets katsuki has made.

the heart between the two initials representing something more deeper than y/n knew at that time...

love.

previous parts: pt. 0 0 / pt. 0 1 / pt. 02 / pt. 03 / pt. 04 / pt. 05 / pt. 06 / pt. 07 / pt. 08 / pt. 09 / pt. 10 / pt. 11 / pt. 12 / pt. 13 next part: pt. 15

☆taglist! @katszumi @coolgirl458 @niktwazny303 @twinnintwink @froggybich @friedmagazineprincess

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year

Text

take me away to paradise

You guys voted and you wanted part 4 of Joel being a menace so here you go, the next instalment of my dbf!Joel. Shoutout to the anon who sent me the ask with the inspiration for this part - I love you.

Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader

Summary | Joel is back fixing up the attic, you're stressed waiting for a call about the job you really want. Stress relief seems the only option to distract yourself, until Joel discovers your trove of toys.

Word count | 2.8K

Warnings | As always, dbf!Joel is a flirty menace so be warned. There's guided masterbation, sex toys, protected (FINALLY THEY ARE SMART) PiV sex, dirty talk and some fluff for good measure.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You’re stressed. There’s no beating around the bush on this one. You’d interviewed for a job you’d wanted pretty damn badly two days ago. They’d promised to call you as soon as they’d made a decision, but you were still waiting. Phone turned off silent, volume turned all the way up so you wouldn’t miss the call.

You’d tried everything to distract yourself – you’d gone swimming in the pool yesterday afternoon, but the scrabbling at the sides when you heard your ringtone for it to be your mom asking you to put the chicken in the oven ready for dinner that night had given you a heart attack. You’d tried reading, going for a walk, you’d even picked up a cross-stitch you’d started about four years ago and never finished, only to throw it down thirty minutes later when you’d realized you’d done two rows in the completely wrong colour.

Today was proving even more difficult. Joel was banging around in the attic, trying to finish up the job your dad needed doing. He’d arrived pretty early – your mom only just on the way out to work. He’d given you a small smile and a hello but had been hidden upstairs for the whole morning.

Boredom was seeping through your body, along with a tightly wound string of stress and frustration, there was only one thing for it. You shut the book you were trying to concentrate on, setting it on your nightstand, before your hand reaches into the drawer and pulls out the small bullet vibrator. Is this going to become your thing? Getting yourself off when Joel is just meters away from you? You’re pretty sure if you climbed the ladder and asked him to, he would fuck you, but there was something about thinking about him whilst you got yourself off that had excitement bubbling under your skin.

You fit your fingers into the waistband of your shorts, pulling down just enough that you can spread your legs. You make quick work of pressing the button on the bullet vibrator a few times before it stops on your favourite setting before placing is gently against your clit. Pleasure is bursting through you almost immediately and you can’t stop the small moans that fall from your mouth as your hips start moving with your hand, pressing your clit more firmly to the vibrator.

Your brain is foggy at best but you’re sure as you find yourself slowly edging towards your release that Joel’s name falls from your lips, wishing it was his fingers on your clit instead of your toy. You can feel the tightening in your belly and the spots that start to cloud your vision. You’re close and it’ll only take a few more moments of vibrations to push you over the edge.

“You’ve gotta stop doin’ this kinda thing, sugar.”

You squeal in surprise – the high you were rapidly hurtling towards quickly dissipating as you press the button to stop the vibrator.

“You shouldn’t be listening in.” You grumble, trying to pull your shorts back to a respectable position.

“I tried not to,” he shrugs, “But these walls?” He knocks on yours with his knuckles to prove his point, “Paper thin.”

You make a move to put the vibrator away, now more frustrated than you had been when you began, “No need to stop on my account.”

“Funnily enough, I’m not really in the mood anymore.” You groan as you turn over and bury your face in your pillow, attempting to mask your embarrassment.

You can feel the bed dip beside you, and Joel’s warm hand wraps around your ankle, giving it a comforting squeeze, “Look at me, sweetheart.”

You turn over onto your back, Joel letting your ankle go so you can move more easily, “I didn’t mean t’make ya embarrassed darlin’,” He smiles, running his hand up your leg, “Were you thinkin’ about me?”

“Maybe.”

“C’mon now darlin’, weren’t so shy just a minute ago when you were moaning my name, were you?”

“Yes Joel, I was thinking about you.” You admit.

A smirk splays across his lips, his free hand reaching for your vibrator, which he holds between his fingers in front of your face, “Show me,” His voice has dropped a few octaves and his eyes have gone dark in that way you love, “Show me how you make yourself feel good when I’m not around.”

You stare at him for a moment before your hand is taking your vibrator from him. You lift your hips with him still sat next to you, dragging your pajama shorts down your legs, before you spread your legs. You can see his eyes flutter to your pussy, aching and wet from your earlier ministrations. You press the button and place it gently against your clit, feeling Joel’s hand come to rest at your hip, anchoring you to the bed and to his presence next to you.

“Such a good girl for me,” He murmurs as you start to wine when you press the button again to change the setting, faster and harder vibrations thrumming through your body, “Does that feel good, baby?”

“Feels so good,” You moan, pressing the small bullet more firmly to your clit, eager to find the high you were hurtling towards before he interrupted, “Not as good as you are though.”

Your eyes have fluttered closed as your hips buck every so often with the vibrations, but you can still hear him chuckle and shift himself a little on the bed, “You want me t’help, darlin’?”

“Yes!” You cry out, mostly from the fact that you’re so incredibly close to coming, but also because you can’t ever say no to this man, “Fingers, Joel,” You breath, “Put your fingers inside me.”

You feel his hand trail up the inside of your thigh and you automatically spread your legs wider for him. His fingers dip only slightly inside of you, and you can hear a deep exhale from his mouth, “Jesus baby,” He breathes, “Always so fuckin’ wet for me.”

“You… ohhhh fuck,” He’s slipping one of those fingers inside your pussy, curling it up automatically in the way he’s so quickly learned sends you feral, “You love it, don’t you?” You ask.

“Love that you’re always so ready f’me?” You nod, eyes still closed as the feeling of his finger inside you, teamed with the rampant vibrations on your clit has you teetering on the edge of oblivion, “Course I do.”

He slips his finger from your tight heat and you’re about to complain when he slips it back inside you with another, filled so deliciously. He’s shifted so he’s knelt between your thighs, free hand splayed across your belly to keep you exactly where he wants you.

“Come on baby,” He encourages, “Wound so tight, ain’t ya?” You can only nod, “Come for me darlin’, I know you’re desperate for it.”

It takes another few pumps of his fingers inside you before you’re crashing over the edge. Your legs are quaking, and you can feel yourself clenching tightly around Joel’s fingers as you move the vibrator from your clit, the stimulation just a little too much for you right now.

“Good girl,” Joel has leaned forward, fingers slipping from you, to press a kiss to your forehead, then he’s taking one of your hands and placing it at the front of his jeans, you can clearly feel the outline of his cock straining, “Let me fuck you baby, please?”

You come around from the haze of pleasure at him begging you like that – it’s new. He’s usually commanding, taking exactly what he wants from you, knowing always that you willingly give it to him. You shuffle a little underneath him, Joel pushing himself up to rest on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head and then working his belt from his jeans as you open your bedside drawer, fishing around to find a condom. You’re about to pull one out when Joel’s is crowding over you.

“What’s this?” He pulls out the bright purple silicon that caught his eye.

You let out another groan, not so much of embarrassment this time, more from frustration that you were desperate to have him inside you as soon as possible.

“You got eyes?” You asked, “What does it look like Joel?”

“Looks like a poor substitute for me, is what it looks like.” He’s smirking down at you, rolling the dildo between his hands.

“Put it back in the drawer then,” You’re pulling at his wrist, tugging it back towards its home, “And fuck me instead.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He’s standing quickly from the bed, shedding the rest of his clothes, you’re doing the same, pulling your tank top off, revealing you naked bodies to each other for the first time, “God, you’re a fuckin’ picture baby.”

His big hands are running up the curves of your sides and then he’s pressing a kiss to your lips, rutting his hips into your own. You can feel his throbbing cock, sliding through your folds. You’re almost about to wrap your legs around his waist and pull him inside you when you remember his words from last time.

“Joel,” You mumble, pushing gently at his shoulder as his head is dipped to press kisses along your neck, “Joel!”

“Hmmm?” He lifts his head just enough to listen to you.

You grab the condom that was discarded on the bed and hold it in front of his face. He smiles, taking it from your hands. He settles back on his thighs, and you watch as he tears the packet, deftly rolling it onto his cock in such a practiced motion you were almost jealous of all the women that had come before you to make him the man he is for you. In this moment he is quite possibly the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Broad shoulders and a thin sheen of sweat covering his tanned skin, his dark eyes and soft lips.

He's shuffling closer to you now, hooking you’re the back of your knees in his arms, folding you almost completely in half as he wastes no time at all in slipping himself inside you. This new position has you whining below him. He’s slow in his thrusts to begin with, giving you time to adjust to being spread out and stretched like this.

“God damn baby,” He hisses from above you, “I love bein’ able to take my time with you like this, all spread out for me.”

A moan falls from your lips as he shifts on his knees slightly, pushing himself so deep inside you that the tip of his cock brushes your cervix. No-one before him had even gotten close to the level of pleasure you felt coursing through you at this moment in time.

“Faster,” You beg, gripping onto his biceps as he obliges, “Fuck Joel,” Another filthy moan tumbles from your mouth, “You’re so fucking good to me.”

“I know baby,” He coos, “I know.”

His thrusts don’t let up, in fact, they become more intense and every hit of him bottoming out inside of you has a gasp or a moan leaving your lips. He dips his head to take one of your tits into his mouth, sucking and running the pad of his tongue over your nipple before he switches sides to shower attention on the other. Your hands managed to reach around and find a homme gripping the meat of his ass, almost daring him to go further. It’s delicious, the way his cock brushes the spot inside of you, but you want more, need more from him.

“Joel please,” You almost sob in pleasure, “More, I need more.”

“Darlin’, I can’t give you much more,” He’s chuckling, leaning down to crash his lips to yours, “Why don’t you put your hand on your pussy and make yourself come for me?”

You do exactly that. Your fingers are circling your clit at a brutal pace, desperation to find another high whilst Joel is buried inside of you outweighing the pain of overstimulation you’re feeling. You can hear his own moans falling from his lips as your fingers are bringing you back to the edge.

“Fuck baby, c’mon,” His voice is faltering, and you look up at him, he’s ruined, and you can tell he’s not going to last much longer, “Come for me.”

In all your years of having sex with other people, not that there had been many, you’d always thought that someone demanding you to come was a myth. That there was no way a voice could hold that much power over you. Joel’s voice was different. The low octave, and the way he’s looking down at you as he pounds into your tight pussy, has you arching your back into him whilst you actually scream his name. Your fingers make light work of making sure you’re thoroughly spent through your orgasm, and then all you can focus on is Joel.

His hips are stuttering, and you can tell by the way he’s got his eyes screwed shut and his mouth is hanging open that he’s not going to be far behind you. He opens his eyes, and you make direct eye contact with him, winking as your hands come to your tits, massaging them in your hands and using your fingers to run over your nipples, “You gonna come for me Joel?” You ask, batting your eyelashes with an innocence that is directly justxaposed to the fact that he still has you folded in half and is seconds away from his own ecstasy.

“Fuckin’ hell baby,” He groans, “Gonna be the death of me.”

And then he’s following you, throwing himself over the edge as he stills inside you. His head is buried in the crook of your neck as he groans your name. It’s only now that he’s stopped that you realise how much your body is aching. Almost like he can sense how you feel, he’s finally freeing your knees, letting them drop to the bed and giving you some much needed relief.

He rolls off from your body, collapsing next to you to catch his breath. For the first time since you started whatever this was you curled into his side, draping an arm over his chest, reveling in the feeling of not having to rush anywhere or worry about anyone disturbing you. He wraps his own arm around you, pulling you closer to him as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I gotta get moving, sweetheart,” He speaks softly, “Your dad is gonna have questions about why the attic is takin’ so long, and I can’t exactly admit it’s because I spend most of my workin’ hours balls deep in your pussy.”

You smile, although you’re disappointed. Sure it’s exciting to sneak around and there’s something in the thrill of the risk of getting caught, but there’s a part of you that wishes you could both curl up and fall asleep together and not worry about getting caught like this.

“Alright,” You mumble into his skin, “Get back to work then, Miller.”

You stay planted on the bed, the ache of your bones is delicious and you know you’ll be feeling him for days. You stretch as he discards of the condom in your trash bin, dresses, when a moan of pleasure at the clicking of your back as his head turning to you.

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shake your head, “Just a little sore, but in the good way,” Once he’s got his shirt back on, he’s kissing your lips, “Gonna be feeling you for days Joel.”

“Good,” Another kiss, this time longer and more languid, you think if you pulled his arm he would fall right back into bed with you, but you don’t, you know he’s got work to do, “Just know, the next time I catch you gettin’ yourself off before you ask me for help, I might not be so forgiving.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You smirk, eyebrow raised.

He’s chuckling and shaking his head, “You naughty little thing, stop distracting me.”

Your hand is motioning for him to leave you, “Go on, get back to work, I need to soak myself in a hot bath to recover.”

He stops in your doorway like he’s thinking of what to do next, “I could help you?”

“Joel!” You throw your discarded shorts across the room at him, “Go!” He holds his hands up in defeat before he’s gone.

You hear his boots on the ladder up to the attic and within minutes the hammering from before is filling the house. You finally manage to drag yourself from your bed, grabbing a fresh set of pyjamas for after your bath. You run the water as hot as you can bare it, filling the water with bubbles before settling into the water. You can still hear Joel working above you and although you had been spent and sated not moments before, your hand is automatically running down your abdomen and between your legs before you know what happening. What Joel doesn’t know, won’t kill him, right?

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egrets-not-regrets · 3 months

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Dandelions and Yarrow (1)

Dandelions and yarrow are both tough, hardy weeds that can grow under harsh conditions.

Alcyon (chaos Iron Warrior) makes the mistake of nearly breaking his bond with Amelia, his bonded human.

Author’s Note: TW: smut, noncon, dubcon, angst. This chapter is all hurt, no comfort. You are warned.

Just a few points:

This takes place before Ben/Malaran “Orca” Blackspike storyline.

Amelia is bonded to Alcyon, a chaos Iron Warrior. These two share an intense bond that teeters on the point of becoming a mate bond.

Alcyon has a pretty good grasp of the english language. He usually communicates with Amelia in english and other Astartes in Gothic.

Thanks to @squishyowl for the divider image!

OCs: Alcyon (chaos Iron Warrior), Amelia Plover

Tagged: @shadowfirecat, @kit-williams, @bleedingichorhearts, @barn-anon, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@sleepyfan-blog, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @bispecsual, @ms--lobotomy

The meaning of 'heartbreak’ had been all but foreign to him before, but now he understood what it meant as soon as he saw the shattered look in Amelia’s eyes directed at him. Alcyon knew that she had received the news about being banned from her son’s school.

“Alcyon! Why did you do it? Why did you have to fight him? I told you not to!” Amelia didn’t know where to even start with him on this anymore. The news broke her. Meeting Ben at his school before her ex came to pick him up was the only way she could see her son.

Crossing his arms, the chaos Iron Warrior bristled and gave a disgruntled huff, “I could have killed the Black Templar. By right of challenge, I would have won your boy back for you had they not stopped me.”

“But they did stop you from killing him and now we both are banned from Ben’s school!” Amelia’s temper rose.

“You shouldn’t have challenged him! I told you repeatedly to not do this and make the situation worse! It’s not that simple!” she added angrily. Amelia had never argued with Alcyon like this. She never wanted to argue with him like this, but she needed him to see, to understand how much his fight with the Black Templar cost her.

“How is it not that simple? We could have simply taken your son at any point and you can have him back”

“Human laws don't make it simple!” Amelia nearly yelled at him out of frustration.

“I am bonded to you! In the eyes of human law, I am, to some degree, responsible for you too! What they see is MY chaos Astartes going out of control, starting a fight, and nearly killing a loyalist Astartes at my son’s school!” Her heart hurt, her head hurt, she didn’t want to continue. Why couldn’t her Astartes understand this?

The chaos Iron Warrior replied, “You don’t control me.”

“Of course I don’t, but that’s not how the human lawmakers see it.” Amelia breathed a vexed sigh trying to calm down. This argument was getting tiresome, she couldn’t remember the number of times they’ve talked about this. She knew her Astartes had done this on her behalf but she warned him time and time again not to, “I don’t even know why we’re still arguing about this. It’s too late for that now.” She grimaced.

Amelia straightened out the order that she held crumpled in her fist, despairing as she read through the damning letter again. What was she to do now?

“We’ll have another chance to get your son back.”

His words locked around her chest tightly. She grit her teeth, trying hard not to cry from the whirlwind of emotions inside, “We won’t have another chance. Even if there was, you won’t be helping me.”

She could hear Alcyon’s quiet growl building, “What did you say?”

Amelia whirled on him, eyes blazing with fury and angry tears sliding unchecked down her face, “I said, ‘Even if I had another chance, I won’t be asking you for help!’”

The volume in her voice rose as she continued, “You lost my last chance to see Ben again, because you didn’t listen! How could I even trust you to not mess up next time?!”

“Mess up?” Alcyon snapped at her, “Mess up?! I only took action because you kept crying about being stopped at every turn because of the laws and that damned family of his!”

“That’s exactly why we couldn’t meet them with violence! Because they are spiteful enough that they will throw the law at us and now they have the excuse of saying you are a danger to Ben due to your fight with his father’s Black Templar. Moreover, the law will always be biased against chaos Astartes and you are no exception! Why couldn’t you understand that?!”

Alcyon’s frustration grew the more Amelia said. It wasn’t his fault that the Black Templar and that family of hers kept her son away. He was the one who had supported her from the time she had accepted that he had bonded to her. And now she didn’t want his help because he made this one mistake?

He sneered, “Don’t you dare blame me for that son of Dorn keeping your son away from you.”

“You are partially to blame! If you didn’t fight and nearly kill him, we wouldn’t be banned from the school! I wouldn't be in this mess!” she spat, too emotionally exhausted to keep her temper in check.

“Then you shouldn’t have kept complaining about the inept human laws that you like to play with! At least I did something about it!” the Iron Warrior retorted.

Her anger boiled over, “I didn’t need you to do anything about it! I didn’t want you to do anything about it! Sometimes I wonder why I’m even bonded to you in the first place!” Amelia’s eyes widened and her expression turned pained, even she couldn’t believe the harsh words that came out of her mouth, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Ignoring her stuttered apology, Alcyon snarled back at her, “I didn’t ask to be bonded to you. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t be bound to a simpering weakling like you!”

He knew that his words hurt. Judging by the agonized expression she wore, his words stabbed in all the right places. She didn’t want his help? He’s the one who’s taken action to get her son back! He’s the one who gave her the chance to visit her son again! How dare she be so ungrateful! Alcyon angrily ignored the voice in the back of his mind screaming at him to stop, that they won’t be able to walk back their words after this. So occupied by his resentment and anger, he couldn’t feel their bond slowly come apart, thread snapping by fragile thread.

Amelia felt her heart crack and regrets started to bleed from it.

“I never asked for you to be bonded to me either. You could’ve left me alone, you should’ve stayed away!” She wiped her eyes angrily, “None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up in my life!”

Another thread snapped.

“You’re the one who accepted our bond! You wanted it! Had you not, you’d still be that lonely little human woman yearning for a big Astartes save her and warm her bed at night, because her own husband wouldn’t bother to fuck her!” Alcyon resentfully pointed out.

Amelia glared at him, speechless with anger and mortification.

“I heard what they said about you… the whore who prefers the company of chaos demons rather than her own family.” He sneered.

“I do not…!” She spluttered in embarrassment, “I am not a whore!”

The Iron Warrior looked infuriatingly smug despite the hurt, “That’s not what you moaned when I fucked you.”

A few more threads loosened.

Feeling humiliated beyond tears, Amelia growled low, “Get. Out.”

“No. This place is mine as much as it is yours.” He replied stubbornly.

“Fine. Then I’ll go! I can’t deal with you right now.” Amelia knew this was going nowhere and immediately yielded. She started walking away only to be roughly yanked back into place, plastered against the wall. Her arm, held tightly in his claw. Amelia froze, not daring to struggle lest the metal claw cut into her flesh.

“I’m not done with you!” Alcyon growled. A dark desire in him wanted to see her fight back so he would have reason to scorch her in return.

A number of threads singed and sizzled as it burnt away.

“What else do you want from me? To be thanked?” Amelia asked, indignation and hurt seeping into her voice.

She snapped, “Well thank you for losing the last chance I have to see my son again!”

“Don’t take that tone with me!” He roared back.

Amelia screamed when Alcyon’s heavy metal claw slammed into the wall a few inches from her cheek. Sharp metal tips dug deep into the plaster; a stark frightening reminder of how dangerous Alcyon actually was. The red lenses on the chaos marine’s face glowed with a malignant energy as he loomed over her.

“Good. You should remember to be afraid.” Alcyon leered at her, a sense of dark satisfaction washing over him as he watched terrified tears run down Amelia’s face.

Another few threads broke.

“You act as if this one mistake of mine is a world ending tragedy and wipes away everything else I had done for you!” He hissed disdainfully.

Not even giving her a chance to reply, Alcyon continued, “Everything I had done up until now had always been for you! Always!” Spite and anger built in his chest, “And you dismiss me like some misbehaving pet?!”

“I never treated you like that! If you feel like I treat you like some pet, take off your collar then! Leave me! I can’t stop you!” She spat back, “I won’t stop you!”

She was right. He knew he could leave. He knew she couldn’t stop him. What could Amelia even do? She was such a weak creature. But something stopped him, did he actually want to leave?

“We already said we don’t want to be bonded to each other. Then we don’t need to stay in whatever this.. this… whatever this is then!” Amelia angrily cried.

To break this bond tethering him to Amelia’s existence seemed completely abhorrent to him. Even if he didn’t have a choice in who he was bonded to, the thought of her not wanting to stay by his side made Alcyon’s chest feel tight.

“I can’t believe I loved you.” She said hoarsely, sorrow cracking through her voice, “I thought…”

Several more threads from the bond snapped.

His hearts shouldn’t have clenched like that when he heard her say it. The Iron Warrior dismissed the feeling with a scoff, “You’re delusional. There was never love. We are bonded. You are simply just mine.”

She glared at him through her tears, “We may be bonded, but I am not yours.”

That sentence echoed in his ear.

More strands broke.

“You don’t mean that.” Alcyon hissed through gritted teeth. The defiance in her words made something twist and shear inside. How dare she say that. She was his. She was his. Amelia was bonded to him and him only. She was his! That thought ran rampant in his mind.

“You don’t mean that.” The chaos marine suddenly pinned his human to the table, one hand trapping her wrists above her head, his teeth caressing her throat. Amelia cried out from the impact, her body spasmed in pain.

“Tell me you don’t mean that.” He growled. Amelia idly wondered if Alcyon would tear her throat out if she told him otherwise.

More threads strained and snapped.

“Say it!” He snarled and bit down hard.

Amelia mewled, her body instinctively reacting by arching into his. Instinctively wanting more. Her skin prickled at their heightened sensitivity. A weak moan escaped her as he sucked on the tender mark.

“Tell me, Amelia. Tell me, you are mine. Your body certainly knows it.” She could feel him smirk against her flushed skin. She tried to bite back another whine at the heat and pressure of his body pressed flush to her own, her hips pushing back when he started rolling his hips against hers. It always started like this… she thought as her mind started to fog.

Appalled at her own reaction, Amelia panicked. She twisted her hips away, bringing a knee up to push his body off her. Her arms strained to free themselves from the tight clasp of his hand.

She started screaming, “NO! Get off— mmngh!” He silenced her with a rough kiss, his tongue wrestling down her own. A frustrating rage in him grew at her defiance. She kept denying that she belonged to him. She was his as he was hers. They were bonded. He won’t allow her to deny the fact any longer. He’ll remind her who she is bonded to.

“No.” The chaos marine sneered, his grip holding Amelia’s wrists together tightened, his claw grabbed her leg, easily moving it back to the side of his hips, forcing her to lay on her back facing him once more. She winced in discomfort.

“Your words deny it, but your body and soul remembers. I will make you remember!” He angrily growled into her mouth, the vibration from it causing another unwanted arc of pleasure to course through her body. In one quick movement, Alcyon’s metal claw effortlessly shreds through her clothing. The torn clothes fell apart, leaving behind thin bleeding welts where his claw swiped against her bare torso.

More threads were sliced from the bond.

Amelia's eyes widened with fear as she started to struggle in earnest, “No! Alcyon! Let me g-!” His mouth was on hers again in an instant, cutting off her protests. She tried to turn her head away. He bit hard onto her bottom lip, warning her to be still. She whined in response before he promptly stole her breath again.

“Stop, Alcyon! Please sto-!” Amelia begged as soon as their mouths parted.

She could see every scar in detail around the lens implant as they stayed nose to nose, “Even if you deny it, you know that you’re mine.” Alcyon harshly whispered, “You will always be mine.”

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head to one side before biting down hard onto an old mark, drawing blood. Amelia keened wordlessly, tears leaking from her eyes as the pain added to the heated pleasure within her own traitorous body. She knew that this was a natural reaction, but she couldn’t help but wish that her body didn’t betray her like this.

With a pleased growl, the chaos Iron Warrior licked the blood from the wound then kissed her. An unbidden moan left her throat as the bitter iron salt of her blood passed between their tongues.

“Your body is more honest isn’t it?” Alcyon laughs sardonically against her lips. He could smell his human’s arousal right when he pinned her under him, the heady scent getting stronger as he continued to mark her. His teeth nipped and worried her sensitive skin down toward her breast, soaking in all her involuntary gasps and twitching muscles as he laid his claim onto her flesh.

Amelia flushed with shame and regret. She wished she had never had slept with Alcyon, if only so that he would not know her body as well as he did. She regretted that she allowed her relationship with the Iron Warrior to become this intimate. She regretted that she had fallen in love with him.

More threads dissolved.

He bit down hard onto her breast, his sharp teeth sinking into the soft tissue. Amelia bit her lip to stop another whine from escaping, her hands stiffened into claws as Alcyon’s tongue licked up the blood that had beaded up from the wound.

He gave the same treatment to her other breast, further sucking and teething her nipple into a hard peak.

“No..! Alcy— ohhhn!” Her throat was tight as she let out a strangled moan, her pussy clenching around nothing. Amelia flattened her back against the table and tried to curl into herself, trying to shirk away from his touch. The chaos marine let out a feral, displeased growl. He grabbed her thighs and slotted her roughly against him, forcing her legs to spread wide to accommodate for the width of his muscled bulk. His metal claw dug into her back, the pain forcing Amelia to arch her spine, pushing more of her breast into his mouth; her breath shuddering and her hips thrusting involuntarily, rubbing her aching core against his pelvis as he sucked and nipped bruises onto her sensitive flesh.

“No more… please Alcyon.” Amelia begged. Shame filled her being as she could feel her cunt becoming slick with her juices.

Alcyon ignored her pleas and groaned at the scent of her deepened arousal mixed with the iron in her blood, his own cock hardening within his pants from rutting against her hot wet core. He could feel the twitches of her muscles and hear her near silent moans and involuntary gasps as Amelia tried desperately to stop reacting to his touch. He will make her fall. He will make her remember.

This time he will leave his marks so others could see who she belonged to. Alcyon bit her neck again, sinking his teeth just below her jawline.

Her shame and regret flashed into anger. “Stop it!!!” She snarled, whipping up a freed hand to strike his face.

Alcyon caught her hand and roughly forced it onto the table again, “Say it, Amelia. Say that you are mine.” He demanded, his eye darkened with feral lust and possessiveness heavy in his voice.

She was beautiful, pinned helplessly below him, glaring at him with rage simmering under the surface. He could see Amelia’s heightened pulse flutter underneath her fragile skin. Bruises forming where he marked over and blood beading out from marks that broke skin. Her breasts heaved as she struggled to steady her breathing.

Amelia bared her teeth at him in anger and contempt, “Leave me alone! I can’t stand the sight of you! I hate you.”

He felt it then. It was as if someone reached into his chest and grabbed a bundle of threads that made up the core of his bond and brutally ripped them out. Sharp agonizing pain stabbed into his hearts as each thread snapped and broke, as if they were once attached to them. Alcyon stared at her, reeling from the sudden shock of pain. Amelia took the chance to slip out from under him and ran into the bedroom, locking the door behind her.

The chaos warrior shook himself out of it, that shock of pain quickly settling to a dull ache as resentment soon took over. Alcyon turned to follow his human when the shine of the intricate metal fish on the table caught his attention. It was a gift he made for Amelia that she treasured. Eyeing the fish figurine with spiteful hostility, he crushed it in his hand and flung it against the wall, shattering it into pieces.

Amelia’s sobs were quiet and muffled, but even they couldn’t escape from his keen hearing. Every cell in his body was compelling him to respond to his bonded human’s sorrowful cries; to comfort her, to apologize, to rebuild the threads of the bond that’s been broken. Alcyon ground his teeth hard, fighting against the compulsion. The Iron Warrior ignored it all and stormed out of their home, slamming the door so hard it nearly took the door off its hinges.

Alcyon was long gone by the time Amelia crept out from the bedroom. Teary-eyed, but fully dressed again, Amelia cautiously made her way back to the living room, still wary that the chaos warrior was still lurking somewhere in their home. More and more cracks formed in her heart as she looked at the evidence of their fight: the gouge marks in the wall, the scratch marks, the torn strips of her clothes that laid on the table. She whimpered and hissed when her own body reminded her of Alcyon’s cuts and bite marks on her. But that hurt couldn’t compare to heart wrenching pain when she found the shattered remnants of her beloved fish figurine.

Amelia remembered Alcyon had made it for her: a beautiful and surprisingly intricate piece of art that came from his rough and metal hands. She loved it so much. It reminded her of her son’s favourite creatures… and what she mistakenly thought was Alcyon’s love for her. Tears started to roll down her cheeks again as she painstakingly picked up the remains, piece by shattered piece.

A particularly sharp fragment of the fish sliced into her finger, the sudden shock of pain causing her already shaky hand to drop the pieces she just collected. Sliding down the wall, her hand fisted around the pieces that didn’t fall, Amelia curled into herself in anguish. Letting out a grief-stricken wail, she wept bitterly.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry #space marine husbandry sentience #cw smut #cw noncon #cw dubcon #cw angst #oc: alcyon #oc: amelia plover #chaos iron warriors #yandere space marine #tw yandere

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thevulturesquadron · 5 months

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Hello! 👋 Could you list some of the best comic books that explore the Rogue/ Magneto relationship?

Hey there!!! 👩‍🚀 Oh gosh! With pleasure! I might be a bit rusty because I haven’t gone through older Marvel comic books in a while and also because I am not up to date with the recent years of X-Men comics BUT there are still a couple of issues that are very dear to me when it comes to Rogue & Magneto, so happy to share:

It all started in the year 1981:

1. Uncanny X-Men #269 ; Uncanny X-Men #274 & Uncanny X-Men #275 (1981, Written by Chris Claremont) [The story is pretty self-contained to these 3 issues and it all starts with Rogue realising that her Ms. Marvel powers are gone and Carol Danvers somehow has her own body now. (a very simplified context of what was going on in that era with the X-Men) I absolutely love Rogue in these issues. She has sass and personality, and she still carries a lot of her energy from the 80s.]

2. X -Men Volume 2 (Issues #1 - #3) - (1991, Chris Claremont) [They meet again after the events in the Savage Land, now on opposite sides.]

3. Magneto Rex: Issues #1- #3 - (1999, Joe Pruett) [This miniseries… is a bit weird and needs some context. It’s at a time where Marvel really wanted to have Magneto return to his evil ways and be a villain for the X-Men (regardless if it made sense or not). Not one of my favourites and generally can live without but it’s a ‘next stop’ in their interactions, so adding it to the list.]

4. Then we have X-Men Legacy! ( 2008, Mike Carey) [This one is a chonker, and to make things worse it is connected with other series running at the same time. It has pieces of Rogue and Magneto through the entire run but all in all, the story sees them reunite under the same team in Utopia (starting with Legacy #231). The full run of Legacy can be difficult to follow up on but if you have the time, it’s really worth it. It’s also the first story in YEARS where Rogue is allowed to shine and do her own thing. If you need a more detailed list of what issues are really worth reading, in what order and what is happening in between them let me know and will be happy to write down a breakdown!]

5. Memorable mentions in the main series: There are quite a few tiny bits about them in the comic books but here’s a list of issues that give more context to how they interact and how they feel about each other:

a. Marvel Fanfare #33 - (1982, Chris Claremont. I love Rogue in this one and it’s such a nice example of what a good and powerful duo they can make. Something that is later explored in Legacy as well. b. Legacy #223 (during Rogue’s journey to control her powers) we have a glimpse of how she remembers and sees Magneto’s presence in her life. c. Magneto #10 (2014, Cullen Bunn) - Similarly, a glimpse into Magneto’s mind on how he remembers Rogue and the impact their connection in the Savage Land had on him. d. Mr & Mrs X #6 (2019) - there is a page between Rogue and Magneto where, in all that mess, at least Magneto’s honest feelings for her and his care for her happiness shine through.

And last but not least, Age of Apocalypse. [This is a completely separate timeline that the comic books liked to visit from time to time. In this universe Rogue and Magneto are pretty much in love and married but… it’s a very tragic universe. Original series started in 1995; then it got revisited in 2005 and again in 2015… I think? The series… is far from perfect, there are so many things that can be described as unhinged (dialogue included) but, there is so much love for these two characters and I absolutely recommend it if you are ok with investing some time into reading it, and most of all if you are ready for a real heart break (again and again).]

Hope this helps! Happy to go into more details or put aside a cleaner list if interested! 💜

There are a couple other mentions in the comics so in case I missed something important I will summon one of the gods of endless knowledge when it comes to X-Men to correct or add to the list: @maedelin

#rogue #magneto #erik lehnsherr #x men #anna marie #rogneto #rogueneto #mavel #comics!!!#yes!#hope the list doesn't look like a mess #anna marie adler #textpost

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eco-lite · 7 months

Text

Finally got to read Volume 6! I didn’t think anything could top Volume 4, but this one is a very close contender for my favorite. Here are my unedited thoughts:

“Sinhalite Beckons, Part 1”

* An extra case first??? Okay then.

* Who is this female version of Seigi? This is hilarious, they’re way too similar!

* Very curious where in the timeline this story takes place…

“The Wandering Conch Pearl”

* WAIT WTF?? That was Seigi’s dream? Did he dream of himself as a woman interacting with Richard in Sri Lanka??????

* Not the milkman omgggg.

* Oooh Richard’s assistant in Hong Kong. That’s probably the sleezy guy he was talking about in the last story. Can Seigi see into other peoples’ pasts now? Didn’t know there was going to be a supernatural element lol.

* “I couldn’t decide if I should serve tea or not, so my brain cells had a meeting and came to the unanimous conclusion not to” (34). I love Seigi so much. 😂

* “I couldn’t stop smiling. Richard thanked me. He said he thought I was dependable. His smile was beautiful enough to start, but boy, a direct hit from his charm sure packed a punch. I was glad he’s withdrawn to the back room, because I was pretty sure my face wasn’t going to go back to normal for a while” (42). Oh, honey… 😌

* Wow, I did not think I would be learning so much about post-WWII politics between Japan and the Dominican Republic from this series, but here we are.

* This conversation between Richard and Seigi from page 62-67 is all over the place. Richard shutting Seigi down when he invites Richard over, but obviously still wanting to let Seigi in. And he ends up asking Seigi to dinner even though he just made the argument that Seigi should go home and go to bed early. And then he gets frustrated that Seigi is being so amenable to going out to dinner with him?? Bro, get your emotions together! You of all people should know that Seigi is not a mind reader. Let him know how you feel, for fuck’s sake!

* “To me, Richard’s beauty was like Mount Fuji at sunrise or the windswept sand dunes in a desert. Anyone else’s beauty was…very human. When I looked at Richard, I felt a mysterious calm, like if I were looking at a lake or the sky or the sea. Normal human features weren’t even in the same category. But if I said any of that out loud, I was pretty sure I’d offend literally everyone” (67). Yes, would would offend literally everyone. You’re learning, Seigi!

* “To have someone look upon the grain of truth hidden within the most tender part of yourself, and tell you their unvarnished opinion of it—I thought that would, without question, be cause for joy” (69). Okay well then you better tell Richard how you feel about having to leave Étranger in the next story, Seigi! Expose that grain of truth!!

“Resplendent Spinel”

* Seigi is really too nice. Filling in for someone in a club where you don’t know any of the other members? Could never be me.

* Ayame describing the “insincere drivel” her boyfriend spouts at her and Seigi’s reaction is “I felt like I was about to go into cardiac arrest” (93). 😅 Is he finally gaining some self-awareness about how ostentatious his compliments of Richard are?

* Ayame: “‘And if you think that a compliment can’t cut as deeply as an insult, you’re terribly naive’” (93). Seigi: “I felt like I’d been sent flying by a body blow” (94). Seigi is really going through it…

* “‘But you are different. Your words are different. When your words brush my face, it’s like a playful wind. With your absurd vocabulary, you are expressly telling me that my appearance brings you joy. It does feel a bit peculiar at times, but perhaps I find that peculiarity oddly endearing, Seigi.’ And then he smiled. I was struck dumb for a while” (96). Holy shit… 😳

* “‘I have a hard time understanding the nature of your love for me. It’s be a great help if you could give me a rundown, as if you were briefing me for a job’” (101). I wish Richard would ask Seigi to do this. But I think Seigi needs to complete his “self assessment” first. He doesn’t even understand the nature of his own love for Richard.

* Wow, Itagaki is actually pretty mature. Good for him.

* “‘Well, I just want you to know there has been a lot of diversity in body type in the industry lately, and I would love you even if you put on a hundred kilos, so don’t overdo it’” (110). It’s really nice to see a male character so adamant that his girlfriend shouldn’t have to worry about losing weight, especially since she’s in the entertainment industry. I hope we see even more diverse body types in Japanese entertainment in the future.

* I hope we get to see this “long talk” they’re going to have in the next story.

“Paraíba Tourmaline Romance”

* Omg Tanimoto is back! And she’s finally meeting Richard!! The two of them ganging up on Seigi is so funny.

* “Once again, it was Seigi Nakata versus the allied forces of Richard and Tanimoto. Honestly, I was probably the happiest if ever been in my life, but I was also just as embarrassed” (135). This is so cute.

* “‘I agree that romance might just be a stone I don’t know yet, but it feels so removed from me—like that planet made from diamonds orbiting a distant star. Maybe I just don’t have the courage for interstellar travel’” (153). This is so ace. I’m so so glad Tanimoto decided to be true to herself and not force herself into a romantic relationship she didn’t actually want. Sometimes you don’t need to experiment. You just know yourself. I’m so proud of her!

* Wow, I really teared up seeing Richard talk about queerness and fluctuations in identity so directly. I’m so happy Tsujimura had the courage to include frank conversations about queer issues. Richard’s perspective here truly is “like a spring breeze rushing through a window that no one remembered opening” (153).

* “‘What really matters is that you never forget that while you possess the potential to change, your present self continues to become your future self… I know it’s hard to decide what choice will be best for you, if I were in your position, I would not think forcing myself into a romantic relationship would be that choice… While dying on your feet is all well and good, one wrong step might make it nothing g more than foolhardy and reckless. And perhaps in the same way, a strategic retreat isn’t running away so much as it is a change of course’” (157). Ace ally Richard is so important to me. This is why he’s my comfort character.

* “‘When Seigi told me about this place, I thought it was a shop run by a foreign man who would show his customers wonderful gemstones. I see it’s actually a shop that provides kindness and comfort to those who see themselves as Étranger’” (158). fUCK.

* I’m so glad Seigi apologized for what he said to Tanimoto at the museum. I know it’s hard for him to let go of the fact that Tanimoto doesn’t feel romantic love since he has a crush on her, but I think he’s more understanding of her feelings now, thanks to the conversation with Richard.

* Omg Seigi and Tanimoto having a mature conversation about why they wouldn’t work out romantically. So nice to see. I think Tanimoto still kind of misunderstood why Seigi wanted to ask her out before, but that’s very on brand for her lol.

* “‘I feel like having you around has made me a better person than I was before’” (173). Richard!!! 💘💘💘

* Tanimoto defending Seigi and telling Richard to never hurt him again! I love her so much!

* I love this story so much! It was great to learn more about Tanimoto’s past and see her finally interact with Richard, who was just so thoughtful here. I can’t believe he felt bad for telling her not to worry about romantic love because he thought it might hurt Seigi. That’s sweet, but I’m glad he was true to himself and what Tanimoto needed to hear in that moment. And Seigi got just a bit more mature, too. I have such intense affection for everyone in this situation. But not Seigi’s father coming to ruin the vibes at the end. 🤬🤬🤬

“The Tanzanite of Rebirth”

* Seigi’s father is such a disgusting manipulator. I always say I want to learn more about Seigi, but learning how awful this man was to him and Hiromi, and how dark Seigi’s thoughts were at that time… How dark they are now… It’s really distressing.

* The fucking tonal shift from this melancholy last dinner together to Jeffrey showing up in the hotel room is so funny. For real though, what did Seigi think would happen when he followed Richard to his room?? 👀 But it’s really concerning that Seigi felt he had no choice but to follow Richard to his room. Obviously that’s Seigi’s extremely negative headspace talking, but please have some self-respect!

* “‘Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I spent a long time stalking you within the realm of what’s legal, of course. Obviously, I’ve repented of my actions—please, God, forgive me for my trespasses. And since I’ve repented, I hope you’ll forgive me for reoffending. It’s plain for anyone to see that something’s been eating at you’” (228). JEFFREY. It’s kind of sweet that Jeffrey has been keeping an eye on Seigi, but did he have to get this intense about it? This kidnapping situation is so chaotic lol. That is his style, though.

* “‘Why do you treat me like some rock on the side of the road? What do you think I am? A doll that’s not good for anything but being on display? I’ve been on this Earth longer than you have. I possess more knowledge than you, and I have enough free time to be able to afford to spend some on you. And yet you had the audacity to try to abandon me and walk off into the darkness. It’s beyond asinine and irrational’” (230). YOU TELL HIM, RICHARD! (Not to even mention Richard told Seigi he loves him just before this rant.) But I feel like Seigi could have said this exact speech when Richard ran away to England before. They both feel that the other should rely on them more, but wouldn’t want to be a burden. After the England debacle, Richard learned that it’s okay to rely on people who love you. Now Seigi has to learn that lesson too.

* “There was a large dam inside my heart, and what it was holding back wasn’t water but sludge. And I didn’t want any of that getting on Richard. It’s the sort of thing that you let out into a drainage ditch in secret” (232-233). Oh, honey, no. First of all, Richard is a human being who loves you and can withstand hearing bad things. You’re not tainting him. He’s asking you to trust him with this. Second of all, please go to therapy…

* It’s really concerning to see how Seigi thinks of himself as having the potential for violence against people he loves. It’s really common for witnesses of domestic abuse to think that way, but it’s so clear in Seigi’s actions that he could never do that. He has such a good heart. But he’s really clouded by dark thoughts from interacting with his father. It’s not like he was thinking this when he wanted to date Tanimoto. These thoughts resurfaced very recently. Thankfully Richard has done enough self-reflection to throw his own situation in Seigi’s face to show him how ridiculous he’s being.

* “‘You don’t think of me as normal or expected. You don’t think of me as tangible, something that is always by your side. That is why I remain someone distant and unreachable to you… You never attempt to close the distance between us. And you never allow me to pay your price, the affection, you are worth’” (243-244). Wow. This reflective Richard is extremely powerful…

* “The moment I realized that he had been watching over me and accepting me for who I was on a much deeper level than I could even have imagined, I felt like I’d been tossed into the middle of the ocean—it was salty, and I struggled to breathe. I was such a loser, such a thoughtless person, a timid child crying in the dark with his knees held tightly to his chest, and yet it felt like he took it all in and said that it was fine. But it wasn’t just a feeling, he believed in me, more than I could ever believe” (247-248). Yes, Seigi, that’s what you do when you love someone. You did the same for him.

* Omg punk Jeffrey?! I wish I could see all those photos Richard keeps as blackmail. 😂

* I’m glad Richard brought up “what floor?” Seriously, Seigi not feeling able to reject him was scary. For both of them, I think.

* Seigi’s stepdad is an absolute legend! King of positive masculinity! “‘I don’t think being strong or not has anything to do with whether you’re okay’” (272). Fuck yes. Hiromi did so well marrying this man.

* “‘I don’t want an apology, I want you to reflect on your behavior. I imagine you understand this by now, but your number-one assignment at the moment is learning to value yourself more’” (274). The fact Richard is able to say this to Seigi is a reflection of his own growth as well. I’m so glad they’re in each other’s lives. They make each other better. 🥹

* Seigi trying to tell Richard he wants to keep being around him even if he doesn’t work at Étranger anymore but it keeps coming out likes he’s proposing or asking him on a date. I think his first statement was the truest to how he feels: ‘“I want to be by your side from now on, if you’ll let me’” (280). I think Richard was ready to accept that as a proposal until Seigi made a bunch of qualifying statements lol.

* Wow, this story means so much to me. Everything that came out of Richard’s mouth was something both Seigi and I (and so many other people, I’m sure) needed to hear. Their relationship got so much deeper. And I can’t wait to see what shenanigans Seigi gets up to in this hotel lol. Especially if Richard is staying there as well. Very excited for the next volume. This one had better come out on time! 😤

“Sinhalite Beckons, Part 2”

* OKAY this is wild! I swear to god the person on the motorcycle in part 1 is Richard, but it seems to be Seigi now???? And he and Richard seem to live together in this nice house in Sri Lanka???????

* Omg she’s the sister of the airport lady from “Flourite By Your Side!” 😲 Glad she’s feeling better!

* Okay so it’s been three years? And there are pictures of the shop in Ginza and their families on the coffee table?? This is so fucking domestic. Is this their future???

* It’s refreshing to see someone call Seigi attractive for once! RIP Keiko’s love life though lol.

* “‘But you know, you really surprised me. You speak textbook-perfect English, but your Japanese sounds like someone from a local convenience store.’ I told him I thought is was a very interesting gap, and he smiled bashfully. ‘He always tells me that—“At this point, the language you might be the least eloquent in might be Japanese.” It is the one language he didn’t teach me, after all’” (301). This is so funny. And it’s making more sense why I thought Seigi was actually Richard in the first part. I can’t believe Seigi speaks English with a British accent! 😂

* Lol once again somebody’s first assumption is that Seigi and Richard are a couple, and it’s still not hard to see why. Love that Keiko immediately asked Seigi out after learning they’re not together, though. You go, girl! But Seigi’s heart belongs to someone else, huh? For real, please tell me he knows it’s Richard at this point!

* I find it so interesting that Tsujimura decided to show us this glimpse of Seigi and Richard’s future. What was the purpose?? It’s a fun and cute story, but not very satisfying if you’re routing for them to get together. And it weirdly feels like an ending even though I know there are at least two more volumes after this…

“Afterward”

* This isn’t a story but I need to record my reaction to the sentence “the first part of the story has now come to a close with Volume 6—though there is still more to tell.” 😲😲😲 Okay, I didn’t realize this story was in parts! Maybe “Sinhalite Beckons” is a way to transition into this new future chapter of Seigi and Richard’s life. 🤔

* Tsujimura actually knows a jeweler who taught them how to make royal milk tea lol. That’s adorable. They do say to write why you know.

* “It would make me very happy if you would keep me company on their journey for a little while.” Tsujimura, I am with you for the long haul. 🫡 Let’s do this!

#jeweler richard #the case files of jeweler richard #tsujimura nanako #nakata seigi #richard ranasinghe de vulpian

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