#(have not fully seen either of those shows btw)

[sammygender]

i have this problem where i actually really like work that dwells on like. homophobia and transphobia or whatever. to a worrying extent. and always makes its gay characters face it. and makes them meet with tragedy. like of course i detest the fact that its often/was often the only thing that exists but me, personally, i sometimes LIKE it. i find it cathartic. and besides it feels realer and rawer to me than the 20th quirky bisexual on like sex education or heartbreak high or whatever new teen show there is. theres something so much realer about so much ‘problematic’ 2000s gay representation lmfao

[hippiepowrs]

one night lookin' pretty

eddie munson x fem!metalhead!reader

you and eddie hate school dances, but you decide to go to the prom this year--with someone who isn't eddie. eddie does not like that, but can't say anything.

a/n: this is my first longer fic so i hope you like it. prom season is coming up so this is kinda self indulgent (as if all my fics aren't). this one is for all my weird girls out there! title from one night in the city by dio btw. :)

warnings: hurt/comfort. angsty for a while but gets fluffy. swearing. a guy being a total asshole to reader. reader wears a dress. reader and eddie both self-described as 'freak.' eddie being a jealous and insecure idiot. both are oblivious as fuck. eddie is REALLY dorky. eddie's backstory and parents--i did not read that book so i don't care if it's canon. idiots in love in the end. pretty cliche but i don't care!

wc: 3.8k

It’s prom night, and Eddie is sitting alone on his couch. Without you. 

Usually, you guys skip every school event together in favor of watching a shitty movie and smoking half of his stock, but tonight was different. Someone asked you to the prom, and it wasn’t him. 

He’s been acting off for the past two weeks, you noticed. He’s been quiet and snappy, and has been opting to jack up the stereo instead of talk on your drives home. When you asked him what was wrong, he pushed you away. So, you left him alone about it. He made it clear he wanted his space.

He didn’t even want to show up to see you in your dress. You called him last night to see if he would come over–he told you he was sick. He wasn’t fully lying, though. The thought of you going to that stupid school dance with that stupid school boy made him nauseous. It didn’t make sense to him. How did you switch your views on the prom so fast? Months ago, the two of you laughed at the idea of going. Now, you were dressed up all pretty, just like all those popular girls you claimed to hate. He had to watch that sleazy ass car pull into to the trailer park, right up next to his. He’d never admit that he watched you step out of your trailer with that guy, and wished it was him. 

Being completely honest with yourself, your date isn’t even exactly your type. Todd isn’t some freak like you or your friends, but he isn’t a complete asshole either. He asked you in the hallway two weeks ago, and your instinct was to laugh at him. You laughed in his face, but he didn’t budge. He really wanted to take you to the prom, so you told him you’d go. It felt nice to be wanted. It was okay that he wasn’t some rock n’ roll dude like you’re into–it’s not like you’re marrying him. It’s just the prom. 

You and Todd arrive at the Hawkins High gym, hand in sweaty hand. Pushing the anxiety clawing at your throat back down, you give him a smile as you walk to get your photo taken together. The frilly, glittery background reminds you that this place isn’t for you. Again, you push that down. 

The music isn’t really your style, either, but everyone is having so much fun you feel the need to pretend. None of your friends are here, so you’re stuck. Maybe you should have pregamed, you think. Too late now. Todd pulls you onto the dance floor with a fervor you’ve never seen in him. You don’t understand how a person can have so much fun dancing to this shitty music. It’s a lot easier to get through when you pretend that Todd is Eddie, and you’re dancing to mixtapes in his room. You decide not to think about the implications of that right now. When the song ends, you offer to grab punch for the both of you. Maybe it’ll be spiked. 

As you make your way back to Todd, you see him chatting with a few of his friends, and from this distance you can just begin to hear them.

“So, when do I get my twenty bucks from each of you? She’s totally ruining my reputation right now.” He laughs, and your stomach churns.

“Okay, yeah, you proved us wrong. You got her here, you danced, you win.” His friend confirms the fear that’s been looming over you like a dark cloud since Todd first asked you out. 

“You at least better hold onto her long enough to get her home with you tonight, man!” Another friend cackles, and you think you’re going to vomit.

How were you stupid enough to think that he actually liked you?

God, you’re so gullible. 

At least there’s nothing to lose now, you think. Walking over to him, drinks in hand, you dump both of them on his head. They splash on his stupid hair and drench his stupid suit. The music keeps playing. A few people turn to look. The room doesn’t stop for you like some trashy romcom. Everyone just keeps going. 

Storming out to the parking lot, nothing can stop the burning tears from pouring down your face. You slump down against the brick wall, fabric of your dress sticking to the rough sidewalk. The warm spring air feels sticky on your cheeks. You wish you had stayed in with Eddie.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You need to call Eddie. Todd drove you here, so it’s either Eddie or walk, and these heels already hurt enough. Your body feels like dead weight as you drag yourself to the payphone on the wall, punching in the number that’s engraved into your heart. 

“Hey.” You greet, choked up. You’re trying to keep your composure. You know it won’t last long.

“…Hey. Havin’ fun with Mr. Popular?” There’s a bitterness to his tone. Usually he would’ve picked up on the fact that you were crying in a split second, but tonight he was too angry.

“Uhm, not really. Could you, uh,” you sniffle, blowing your thin cover, “pick me up? Like, now?”

You can almost hear his demeanor shift over the phone. A beat of silence passes.

“I’ll be right there.” He’s clearly still upset, because he hangs up the phone without saying goodbye. But his one-sided irritation can’t override the facts: he cares about you so much that he immediately hops in his van and starts speeding to the school, even faster than normal.

You sit back at the edge of the sidewalk, staring into the empty night over the parking lot. God, this is so cliché. Freak gets taken to prom as a joke; left crying outside. You know how pointless it is to cry over this guy. You don’t even care about him, to be honest. But it’s not really him you’re crying over. It’s the extensive disappointment you repeatedly put yourself through after expecting different results—it’s the fact that you haven’t stopped thinking about Eddie all night. 

As you begin to probe deeper into the ethical implications of falling in love with your best friend, said best friend whips into the parking lot, tires skidding as he pulls right up to you and parks. He drives just how he lives his life—with a sense of urgency and passion you don’t see in many. His van stops diagonally in the middle of the pickup lane, and he hops out of the driver’s side door, so worried he can’t be bothered to close it before sprinting to your side. 

For the past six minutes—which is Eddie’s new personal record on getting to the school from Forest Hills—his mind has been racing with every possibility of what could have happened to you tonight. Maybe Todd had another girl, or is just boring, or maybe you got totally Carrie’d and some assholes poured pig’s blood all over you. Not likely, but hey, you never know the determination of Hawkins’ resident assholes. At least if you got Carrie’d you’d look metal as fuck. That would be a good album cover. But that’s not the point. What he’s more worried about is the possibility that that dickwad touched you in any way. Just the thought is enough for him to completely light up—he got pretty close to breaking his steering wheel from how hard he was gripping it. 

“What happened?” He tries to act nonchalant, but that’s something he’s never been good at. 

Your head is held between your knees, looking down into nothingness. He’s staring daggers into the top of your head, and you can almost feel the fact that he wants to say ‘I told you so.’ Reluctantly, your wet eyes tilt upwards, the rest of your head following. 

“Let’s just talk in the van.” He sighs. 

You don’t budge. Your legs feel far too wobbly to imagine getting up right now. He has zero patience at the moment, it seems, as evidenced by the fact that he almost immediately picks you up bridal style and carries you directly to the passenger’s side of his van. He fumbles with the door handle for a second before setting you down gently in the seat. You watch him drag a frustrated hand over his face through the windshield as he walks back to his side, and although you know you didn’t do anything wrong, you’re worried that you did. 

The engine roars into life, turning your seat into a makeshift massage chair. Eddie pulls out of the parking lot as quickly as he pulled in, but with a little more focus. He doesn’t turn his music on, which is a bad sign. 

“It was a bet,” is all you can say, voice soft and defeated, “because, of fucking course it was.” You stare out the window, head tapping against the glass as he hits a pothole straight on.

“I told you that asshole was bad news.” His voice is laced with venom. He’s never been good at controlling his anger—especially when it has to do with you. 

You stay silent. Anything you say right now will probably just piss him off more. 

“Why do you—why do you always do this to yourself? You’re always finding these guys that just want to take you out to say they were able to take you out. They treat you like a fucking trophy.” He scoffs. 

You look at him again, tears still silently falling. Even if you wanted to say something to that, you can’t seem to find your voice. 

“I just don’t get it. You’re, like, totally perfect,” he coughs, gripping the wheel harder, “and these guys you find are total douches. You can do so much better.”

“It’s not like there’s anyone better around here,” you mumble while staring out the window, like some kid talking back to their parent for the first time. 

“That’s not my point!” His yell rings out against the hum of the engine, the dull drumming being the only sound left as he hangs a sharp right turn. “I just don’t understand why you’re so eager to find some guy that you throw your morals out the door.” Eddie’s eyes dart to you for a moment before looking back at the road. 

“I haven’t thrown my morals out the door.” You argue softly. 

“Yes, you have! We always said we’d never suck up to the bullshit they want us to do, that we’d never let them turn us normal, and here you are at the fucking prom.”

“Eddie, it’s prom! It’s not like I fucking stabbed my mother!”

“We’re supposed to be the freaks! We’re Hellfire! We piss people off! That’s our whole thing! You can’t just—fuck—just throw that out!” He groans angrily, pulling into Forest Hills, slowing down as you near the Munson trailer. 

“I’m not throwing it out.” You say, much more firmly. 

“You’re throwing me out!” There it goes, the root of the entire issue. He’s always been worried that you’ll find someone cooler, someone less abrasive, someone who will make you laugh and smile more than he can. Logically, he knows that would never happen, but he can’t help his fear. He throws the van into park and slams the door as he gets out. 

Eddie was eight when he met you. He’d been living with Wayne for a little over a year by the time you moved next door, but he was still struggling. His mother left him first, then his father. He missed his mom a lot, but his dad probably caused him more pain, knowing that he had the choice whether or not to stay, but Eddie wasn’t enough. Uncle Wayne was nicer to him than his father had ever been, but that can’t fix a broken kid. 

Then one day, you showed up in your ratty hand-me-downs, a year and a half younger than him. He thought that girls had cooties, but you were different. You didn’t giggle or try to hide your gaze like the other girls did when they made fun of him to each other. Instead, you walked right up to him and said hi. 

You were new, and you didn’t have the best clothes—he could tell you were probably going through something similar to him—so the kids at school kicked you to the curb. You were just as pretty as the other girls, he thought, if not prettier, as much as a seven-year-old can be. But that didn’t really seem to matter to them. Your lunchbox was plain, theirs had characters. 

When the two of you got to be in junior high at the same time, him in the eighth grade and you in sixth, he thought for sure that you would find new, more popular friends. It was incredibly shocking to him that you’d rather hang out with some dorky boy with an ugly buzz cut who’s two grades ahead of you than the other pretty girls, but he wasn’t going to complain. 

He’s lived with that fear constantly since then, always preparing himself to see you walking into school one day in some pastel sweater instead of your band shirts and battle vest. He knows you won’t, he knows you’re better than that, and he feels so guilty for always expecting the worst, but he can’t help it. 

You hop out of the passenger’s side of the van, holding up the skirt of your dress like some elegant princess. But instead of some grand, ornate staircase, you’re simply walking up the concrete steps of the Munson trailer and following Eddie, who’s storming inside. 

“Eddie.” You sound like a scolding mother, tears having dried up a few minutes ago, and you shut the door behind you. “Why do you think so lowly of me?” Your voice cracks with the weight of the question. 

Eyes widening, Eddie never realized quite how much his thoughts could affect you until right now. “I don’t,” he says softly. “You’re the best person I know.”

“You say that, but you always think I’m gonna leave you for someone else. You’re my best fucking friend. I’m not just gonna cut you off at the drop of a hat.”

“I- I know that,” he stammers out, a little shaken. 

“Do you?”

“Look, I,” he sighs, finally turning around, “I’m just scared. I’m scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize how fucking lame I am, and you won’t want to deal with me and all my bullshit anymore.” 

“The world isn’t against you, Eddie.”

He opens his mouth to quip back something snarky, but he closes it as he thinks about your words again. 

“You hate yourself so much that it’s beginning to rub off on me, because I’m friends with you, and if I like you, you think that surely there’s something wrong with me, too.” 

He’s stunned into silence, your words stabbing him straight through the heart. 

“Can you at least tell me why you were being a dick for the past few weeks?” You switch the subject slightly with a sigh. 

Eddie takes a deep breath. “Because of Troy asking you to prom.”

“Todd.”

“Yeah, whatever. He was my problem.”

“Why were you mad at me for that, though?”

“I knew he was gonna hurt you.”

“You didn’t say anything about that, though. You just said he was an ass once and then pushed me away for two straight weeks.”

Standing in the middle of the dark trailer, Eddie is presented with two options: confess his lifelong, undying love for you, or don’t. He knows that the only good and honest explanation he can give you involves a love confession, and he hates lying to you. But one thing trumps the fact that he hates lying to you, and it’s that Eddie is a complete and utter pussy. 

Eddie is, and always has been, a pussy. In middle school, you acted as his bodyguard—self-appointed, and very passionate—which only made him get bullied worse. You didn’t care. You’d defend him until the end of time. You’d take a hundred tugs to your ponytail or face-plants in the lunchroom so that he wouldn’t have to. You weren’t very loud or talkative in school, until it came to defending Eddie. 

To Eddie, you’re this glowing beacon of light and hope in his life. Everything good comes from you. And if he confesses his feelings to you, and you don’t feel the same, that pillar comes crashing down. 

But…what if? What if you did feel the same? That’s stupid, he thinks. Clearly you don’t, because otherwise you wouldn’t have gone to prom with another guy. And he’s sure you already know about his big, fat crush, and you’re choosing to act like you don’t notice.

“I’m sorry.” You can tell he’s nervous by the way he’s fingering riffs on the side of his thigh. 

“You always get so upset when I talk to guys. It’s not like there can be only one guy in my life.” 

“I know that, it’s just–” This is going to be the worst decision he’s ever made, and he knows it, but he can’t stop himself. “--I’m jealous, okay?”

“Obviously you’re fucking jealous, dickweed.” As you call him your favorite nickname, the intent behind his words reaches you, and your cheeks begin to heat up. “…Wait.”

“Have you seriously not picked up on this yet?” Eddie is genuinely surprised at your reaction. “You—you’re perfect, you know that? You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met, and I don’t know how you do it.” His voice is softer than normal. 

“Yeah, but—like, are you serious?” You ask. 

“I wouldn’t joke about this. I’ve been, like, totally into you forever. I’m surprised Gareth or Jeff didn’t say anything to you.”

“They did a while ago, but I thought they were messing with me.” 

“Okay, I honestly can’t blame you for that.”

A moment passes in silence, and you think about how to respond. 

“You know, I didn’t really want to go with Todd.”

“What? Why did you then?”

“I hoped that you would ask me,” you admit, eyes drifting to your feet, “but it was kind of a stupid thing to expect.”

His jaw goes slack as he hears you speak. 

“I guess that I’ve just kinda had this pipe dream where we’d go to prom together, and I’d be able to dress up all pretty, and we could dance together.” You avoid his gaze, until you hear him scurrying down the hallway. 

He emerges back out with his stereo in one hand and a cassette in the other, scrambling to place it down on the kitchen table and shoving the tape inside. He immediately skips to the song he has in mind. The familiar sound of Tommy Lee’s piano starts from beside you, and before you can figure out what’s happening, he’s offering his hand to you. 

“May I have this dance?” 

A smile grows on your face. “God, you’re such a fucking dork.” Your insult doesn’t come without placing your hand in his. He’s bright red, and he’s never slow danced in his life. 

Mötley Crüe’s Home Sweet Home is interrupted occasionally by the sound of feet stepping on feet and the subsequent ow!’s that follow, as well as the flustered giggling of two idiots in love. 

Eddie pulls you a little closer, his hands firmly planted on your waist. “You look really beautiful tonight,” he murmurs, “sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” 

He feels extremely underdressed compared to you, him in his favorite torn up pair of black jeans and an Exodus muscle tee, and you in your stunningly gorgeous dress, looking prettier than any princess he could ever imagine. 

“Thank you,” you mumble back, flustered, “you don’t look too—fuck!—too bad yourself, you know.” A playful giggle comes with your words, and a huge grin grows on Eddie’s face. 

“Yeah?” He teases, looking right in your eyes. 

“Yeah.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you giggle, staring right back. 

Leaning in, he lets out a nervous laugh before pressing his lips to yours. It’s not some magical explosion of energy that cures all your problems and fixes world hunger; but his lips are soft and warm, and he tastes like weed, gummy worms and a hint of shitty beer, and it feels right. 

You kiss him a few more times before the song ends, all quick and chaste but completely full of love. Pulling you along with him, not wanting to let go, he pauses the tape and the trailer goes quiet again. 

“Was I better at that than Troy?”

“Todd.”

“Point still stands, fuckface.”

Eddie drags you down the hall to his bedroom, the familiar ambiance warming you like a comforting blanket. Jumping onto the bed with a plop, the boy pats beside him invitingly.

“Can I change first?” You ask, ecstasy of the moment wearing off, allowing you to remember how itchy this damn dress is.

“‘Course. Your shirt is clean if you want it.” He calls it your shirt, but it was his at one point. The old Metallica tee used to be his favorite one, too, which meant it got a lot of wear and tear. But then you started wearing it at sleepovers, and it quickly became your shirt. Eddie didn’t like to wash it afterward because it smelled like you. He always felt like a creep for that.

Your hand tries its best to wrap around and pull the impossibly tiny zipper down, but it doesn’t want to budge. Eddie, watching you as intently as ever, quickly notices and jumps up to help you. His fingers move to your waist, soft and nimble, and gently undo the zipper for you. You let your dress fall to the ground, and he looks away, flustered. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in your underwear before, but now it feels a lot more serious.

Quickly throwing on the hole-filled Metallica shirt and a clean pair of his boxers, both of you hop back into his bed. You’ve shared plenty of nights here before, but once again, now it feels different. You sense that it will become a common theme for your life in the near future. His hands snake back around your waist and pull you next to him, and you allow your head to rest against his chest.

“So… does this mean you’re, like, my girlfriend now, or what?” A goofy smirk is plastered across his face as he asks. 

You try to playfully shove him off of you, to no avail. “Are you seriously fucking asking me that?” You’re trying so hard to act angry, but your giggles give you away.

“Yes, yes it does.” You seal it with a kiss. Then one on his cheek, and the other, and his forehead, and the tip of his nose.

reblogs and notes always appreciated! | requests are open!

[gettingfrilly]

Let's talk about Eddy and empathy

Okay, so. Hand-me-down Ed.

Lotta people talk about this episode. Lotta them have the take that the boomerang unleashed Eddy's repressed nurturing side. This is a very valid interpretation when you consider the abuse Eddy has endured and all the reasons he has to repress any nurture-type feelings. But here is the thing that I think. Or don't think. I don't think Eddy represses a secret nurturing side. I think it got repressed by outside forces when he was young and squishy and moldable, and now there's not really a whole lot of nurturing in there left for him to repress himself. I truly believe the intent of the episode was to show the Eds being the opposite of who they truly are. And Eddy, truly, in my opinion, is an incredibly traumatized kid with some really unfortunate learned behaviors and underdeveloped empathy muscles that just aren't gonna fully recover.

There are two episodes I wanna talk about to back up my claim.

Ah, Dueling Eds. Who doesn't like Dueling Eds? I certainly consider it one of my favorite episodes. It's a surprisingly serious episode with a genuine look at how Eddy navigates the consequences of hurting someone. That long silence in the van with Double D? His continuing insistence that he didn't do anything? Continually asking throughout the whole episode what the hell is even going on? Mwah. Chef's kiss. I've seen a few different theories for what's going on with Eddy in this episode, but I've always felt that he genuinely has no idea what he did, why everyone's acting the way they are, and is incredibly fucking frustrated by how little sense the whole situation is makes. He knows it has to do with the fishball; he even brings it up himself when he's talking about the incident with Double D later. But he doesn't understand why that was wrong. He doesn't get how something so inconsequential in his own mind could be so hurtful to Rolf, and he is either incapable of, or refuses to acknowledge, that just because it wasn't a big deal to him, doesn't mean it can't be a big deal to someone else. (We call this ~theory of mind~ btw and it's a big component of empathy.)

Another favorite of mine, Little Ed Blue. I've talked about this scene before because I love it for a lot of reasons, and one of those reasons is the insight we get into how Eddy's emotions have probably been addressed by those around him in the past. I mean, jeez, this is Ed! He's one of Eddy's most important people! A true and dear friend he's had since he was a toddler and one of the few people in the world who outwardly likes him and gets along with him. And what does he do when Ed's having a bad day? Calls him a wuss, laughs at him, invalidates his feelings, and tells him to get over himself. This is some grade fucking A asshole behavior, even for Eddy. And yet he does it easily without a shred of guilt, convinced this is the correct way to address a friend who's in the throes of misery. I mean, just look at this face.

Has Ed ever made a face like that? His feelings got fucking hurt man. (also, as a sibling, I can say that this is categorically the most Sibling moment between Eddy and Ed in the entire show.)

IMO, someone with a repressed nurturing side wouldn't be that baffled by how Rolf is reacting or be that cruel to their own best friend. This looks more like someone who genuinely has a low amount of empathy. So what's actually going on? Do I think Eddy is just some cold, uncaring asshole? Of course not! He's a traumatized 12 year old kid who's endured intense physical abuse. Cruelty was normalized for Eddy at a very young age. Why should Rolf be so upset about a fishball? It's not like Eddy beat him or something. And what's Ed got to be so miserable about? Men shouldn't act like wusses. Men are supposed to just get over it. And how could Eddy be wrong for thinking these things? It's what he was taught, after all. He learned these behaviors from his hero, after all. This is all he knows. This is what makes sense to him. It's Rolf and Ed who are being ridiculous.

That kind of stunted growth to someone's empathy isn't something so easily fixed. This is why I don't headcanon or write a more grown up Eddy as someone who learns he doesn't have to repress his nurturing side anymore; I see him as someone who's learned that nurturing and empathy are part of the whole "having friends" deal. He's learned that nurturing and empathy are what's considered normal, learned that it's what's expected of any decent human being, man or not. He's also learned, a la BPS, that you have to be a good friend to have good friends. It doesn't come naturally to him. It's gonna take a lot of hard work and growth on his part. But even if Eddy doesn't always understand why he needs to be gentler, needs to just listen, needs to offer a shoulder to cry on, that doesn't mean he won't do it for the sake of his friends. Because even if empathy ain't his strong suit, even if being empathetic is hard fucking work, he still genuinely and wholeheartedly cares about his friends and cares about doing right by them.

[greenhikingboots]

Jon’s Pre-Canon Crush

Okay, Jonsa fam. I’ve seen a lot of great posts, especially in the last few months, about Jon’s reactions to Val. Among them, there’s one particular vein I like to assume everyone loves as much as I do. That is, when Jon thinks of Val’s hair as silver vs. when he thinks of it as the color of dark honey. You’ve seen those metas, right? They explain the likelihood of Jon’s future connection to Dany being negative — The air tastes cold. / My tongue is too numb to tell. All I taste is cold. — while his future connection to Sansa will be positive — It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.

Well, in this post I want to expand on the angle of Val-is-sometimes-a-stand-in-for-Sansa. Only, I don’t want to speculate on what will happen between Jon and Sansa in the future, if we ever get GRRM’s last two books. Enough people have already done that, and they’ve done it so wonderfully that I have little to add. Instead, as the title of this post says, I want to focus on Jon’s pre-canon crush. More specifically: I want to focus on what Jon’s thoughts and feelings about Val say about his thoughts and feelings about Sansa.

But let me lay some groundwork first, okay? Until a few weeks ago, I went back and forth on pre-canon crush theories. I agreed they held a lot of potential and were a lot of fun to daydream about — a great premise for a one-shot, to be sure! Oh, and I’ve always loved it when people said things like, “Hey, Jon, your Targaryen is showing.” That’s classic stuff. But did I really think GRRM meant to hint at prior feelings rather than just laying a foundation for future feelings? Again, until a few weeks ago, I wasn’t totally convinced either way. But now I am fully committed to the Pre-Canon Crush Camp, assigned to cabin Jon-Had-Feelings-for-Sansa. [Did Sansa have feelings for Jon too? Ummm maybe? I think there’s some evidence to support that, but not as much. But, hey, that’s not the point of this post. Sorry. Moving on.] So what changed? Well, basically some ideas I’d previously had sunk in on a deeper level. It started with this post from @sherlokiness. It talks about GRRM commenting on a discrepancy in the books, two occasions where Jeyne Westerling’s physical descriptions do not match up. GRRM said the discrepancies were a mistake, a really unfortunate one because it distracts from the times when he intentionally included discrepancies of physical appearances. And basically us Jonsas loved it. Like, “Yep! Make sense! We assumed as much already, Mr. Martin.” And that’s because of the canon line mentioned earlier, right? You know the whole thing, don’t you? Oh, but you want me to quote it here anyway? Okay, fine, I’ll oblige.

They [Ghost and Val] look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white [bleh, bleh, bleh] …but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.

Direwolf. Lots of white. Suspicious ellipses. Blue eyes. Long braid the color of dark honey. Right, okay, got it.  [BTW. Did you know there’s also a point, early on, where Val’s described as having high cheekbones? You know, a feature Sansa has as well!?!?] Anyway, when I saw sherlokiness’s post about GRRM’s comments and the Jonsas relating it to that canon scene with Ghost and Val, I reblogged it. Naturally. And in the tags I said something like, “I’ll have to double check but I’m pretty sure the willowy creature line comes after this line. As in, maybe Jon knew exactly who Val reminded him in that moment and he was trying to talk himself out of his pre-canon crush coming back to the surface.” I’m paraphrasing here. My tags were probably not as clear as that. Also, I was being a bit facetious. It was a thought I’d had before, but just a passing one. Again (AGAIN! Do I say that too much?), I’d been going back and forth about pre-canon crush theories for a long time. But @agentrouka-blog saw my tags and was like, “You might be onto something there.” And then @zimshan saw my tags too and did the double check for me. Thanks! And guess what? GUESS WHAT, JONSA FAM!? I was right about the order. First, Jon sees Ghost and Val, thinks her eyes are blue and her hair is like dark honey, and it is a lovely sight. Second, this line:

Val looked the part [of a princess] and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.

But guess what else? The order isn’t even the most striking thing. The most striking thing is how closely these two lines appear to one another — within just a few pages!!! That's what zimshan said. So I went back to read it myself. Not just the two lines to check the order, but a little before, and a little after, and everything in between. If you want, you can do the same. It’s ADWD Jon XI.

Want to know what stuck out to me most? The willowy creature line actually seems… so odd, and out of place, and unnecessary. I swear to you. Let me try to explain.

Basically, by that point in the chapter, Jon has already clearly established his take on Val. She’s beautiful, everyone knows it, but she’s more than that. She’s strong and capable. She found Tormund and brought him back to Castle Black when Jon’s Night’s Watch Rangers couldn’t manage it. Like, Jon’s thankful for Val, okay? 

Oh, and he also seems aware that he holds her in higher regard than the rest of the men who keep calling her a princess even though she’s not one. I think he feels smug about it, to be honest. Like, he wouldn’t use these words because it’s ASOIAF, but he knows he’s a budding feminist and he’s proud of himself for it. Like, “I’m so much better than these asshats who don’t respect women and think all Val has to offer is her pretty face.”

How great is that? I love book Jon so much.

Where was I, though? Oh! Oh, oh, oh! This next part is key. Up until the willowy creature line, Jon has not had a single disparaging thought about Val. Val being cruel about Shireen’s greyscale hasn’t happened yet. But for some reason — *Getting too executed. Brain malfunctioning!*

AH! I SWEAR JONSA FAM! If you read the willowy creature in fuller context, it comes across as if Jon’s correcting himself for having a disparaging thought about Val, like he’s reminding himself of who she truly is. She’s a warrior princess, not a willowy creature. But like, why? Why does Jon feel the need to do this? He hasn’t had a disparaging thought about Val, so why correct himself as if he has?

Just because she’s beautiful? Just because he’s tired of other men calling her a princess? I mean, I guess that could be the whole story. That’s certainly how we’re supposed to take it, if we’re taking it at face value. But I’m not convinced. Go read it again, and I think you’ll see that when the willowy creature line happens, it actually feels like a weird logic leap.

The dots aren’t connecting because one dot is missing!!!! Let me put a pin in that for a moment while I turn to other mini metas in our Jonsa fandom. Antis like to say, “Jon doesn’t like girls like Sansa. He doesn't like willowy creatures, he said so himself.” But we know that’s crap, right? The boy who liked Ygritte’s gentle side? The boy who helps Alys Karstark by marrying her to Sigorn? The boy who dreamed his mother was a highborn lady with kind eyes? The boy who wanted to show his hypothetical wife Winterfell’s glass gardens and bath with her in the hot pools?

Yeah, that boy is a budding feminist, like I said.

So again I ask (AGAIN!) why would Jon — who is not especially critical of women in general and has not been critical of Val at all up to this point — feel the need to correct himself by thinking this critical thing about willowy creatures? In other words, why does he lift up Val by putting down some vague idea of other women he’s never had a problem with before?

Well, obviously it turns out that I believe my facetious, tongue in cheek tags more than I realized when I wrote them. My position is that somewhere in the two pages between ...a long while since Jon had seen a sight so lovely… and ...not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair… Jon realized Val reminded him of Sansa, he felt guilty and ashamed about it, and then felt the need to do damage control. And because guilt and shame are icky, confusing feelings, his damage control took the form of being critical of Sansa even though he isn’t normally critical of such women. 

Am I making sense? How do I explain myself further? Like, why am I so stuck on this idea Jon’s willowy creature line being two pages after the Ghost and Val looking lovely together line must mean Jon had a pre-canon crush?

I think the crux is what I said about the willowy creature line feeling like a weird logic leap — like the dots aren’t connecting because one is missing. The missing dot is Jon being aware that he’s mentally swapped Val with Sansa. He just doesn’t acknowledge this on the page.

Let me be extra clear. I’m now differing from several others who have written about pre-canon crush theories in that I think Jon was aware of his crush. I’ve seen many say it’s all subconscious. But this stuff with Val makes me think otherwise.

I mean, I know Jon has a pattern of dissociation. For him, thinking, and speaking, and acting from his subconsciousness is a common occurrence. So, yes, he could have subconsciously thought Val looked like Sansa and subconsciously felt guilty and ashamed and therefore subconsciously decided to do damage control by subconsciously reminding himself Val is a warrior princess and therefore not a willowy creature.

But I think GRRM was hinting at an exception to Jon’s pattern with these canon lines. Because if the first part is happening subconsciously — Jon thinking Val looks like Sansa and that it’s a lovely sight — then he wouldn’t feel the need to do damage control afterwards? If he wasn’t aware of thinking of Sansa in that moment, isn’t it more likely he’d just carry on with taking Val to meet Selyse, and the odd, out of place, unnecessary line about a willowy creature wouldn’t have been included? What else, what else?

I said earlier that I think Jon’s crush is an innocent, not sexual thing. Let me expand on that. And uuuuuhhhhh... let me clarify that I think that might be changing some over time.  My guess is when Jon was younger, his thoughts were more along these lines: “Sansa is pretty, and a proper lady, and everything men are taught to want. She’ll be a good wife for someone someday. Obviously not me. That’s sinful, I don’t want it, and I’m a bastard so I can’t marry a highborn lady anyway. But objectively, Sansa’s a good catch.” Which kinda matches how Jon thinks of Val at times, right? Like, she’s a catch but he doesn’t want her. He’s not taking Winterfell and a Wife because Winterfell belongs to Sansa and he’s a man of the Night’s Watch, dammit! But hang on a second. Sometimes Jon’s thoughts about Val are more elicit, aren’t they? He thinks about the size of her breasts and she’s the hypothetical wife he pictures romancing in Winterfell. Don’t worry, I’m not saying I’m secretly a Jon/Val shipper. What I’m getting at is this other thing we’ve talked about in the Jonsa fandom. Jone projects his general desires onto Val. He’s getting older. He’s unhappy at the Wall. Winterfell isn’t Robb’s like he thought it would be, and Bran and Rickon are thought to be dead. And Stannis is offering Winterfell and Val to him. Plus he’s now been intimate with a woman, Ygritte. So he knows that sex feels nice. All in all, Jon’s becoming more in tune with wanting Winterfell, and a wife, and a family, and wanting to fu—

You get the idea. ;)

Soooooo. If you buy into the premise that A) Jon considered Sansa a good catch when they were younger B) He’s thinking more and more about romance and sex C) Val is also a good catch and easy to project feelings onto and D) Woopsies, Val just reminded me of Sansa! Well, then where does all that leave Jon? Feeling like he needs to distance himself from positive thoughts about Sansa, right? But without ever thinking her name because of his pattern of dissociation and because GRRM is tricky like that.  Am I making my point clearer, or just talking in circles?  Like, I know plenty of people have already said Val is a switch-back-and-forth-stand-in-for-other-characters. The first two short paragraphs of this post mentions those metas.  But holy smokes! If Jon is aware of A-D mentioned above, that adds a fascinating layer of subtext to his scenes with and thoughts about Val.  Let’s talk about it forever!

Just kidding. I think I’m almost done here.  Basically, I think the willowy creature line is Jon knowingly saying to himself, “Yikes, the thoughts I had about Sansa in the past didn’t bother me much because they were 99% innocent. But they are less innocent now and that’s a problem! You can’t like Sansa! Don’t confuse Sansa with Val,  dummy! Val is a warrior princess! Sansa is a willowy creature and willowy creatures are bad!”

Okay, sure, Jon.  Let me wrap up with one more canon line.

Of Sansa brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow.

We often link this line to Ygritte for obvious reasons, but I’m now in the habit of linking it more to Val and the canon lines mentioned previously. I think GRRM wrote a the three lines — a sight so lovely + willow creature + of Sansa brushing out Lady’s coat — as a subtle continuation of one another. Us Jonsas saw the potential for underlying romantic feelings in the last one, that’s nothing new. But I want to add that it’s a direct contrast to the willowy creature line. As Jon is bleeding out, he can no longer be bothered to put up a front and pretend he doesn’t have feelings for Sansa, feelings that have gotten more complicated as of late.

Oh so subtle. Really not that much different than what others have said before me. But different enough I wanted to mention it. Now someone put it in a fanfic!!

[soup-mother]

this is just me being fucking pissed and won't make any sense but i genuinely fucking despise Australia and our entire cultural identity as a nation. i barely have words.

our culture of militarism and hiding that behind "the Anzac spirit" (fucking joke) and whinging that we keep dying in someone elses war and then signing up for the next one. after ww1 we were straight back into the middle east at the behest of mother England.

massive nation of racist whingers.

STOP JOINING THE ARMY THEN CUNT. you're mad America sucks to be friends with then stop being friends with them. it's not like it'd be better if they were out wars either. stop whining when you fucking volunteered to join our racist fucking army. christ. you had a choice there you could have just not fucking joined the institution that exists to kill people. like you fully cannot get it through your fucking skull that soldiers kill people and joining the army puts you in harms way and a gun in your hands. fuck

or like i can't even stand looking at the eureka stockade flag it's like "aussie union spirit" for the fucking gold rush. fucking settler extraction colony since day fucking one. especially turning it into some fucking patriotic symbol some cunt will fly on a ute next to a "fuck off we're full" sticker.

we're super multicultural so *everyone* can take part in the Australian dream of being a massive cunt, don't you want to feel proud of the country that put your family in a detention centre for years? we've got lamb!

only one female Prime minister ever and every PM has been white btw.

the people who see some of those issues and then just fucking act like it'll be fine if we make a couple changes and become an *independent* asshole settler with a president who can be a white Christian man instead who enforces harsh border policy and keeps supporting fucking wars. fucking hell. can't believe anyone fucking believes this shit what a joke.

i can never find it but that post like "Australian larrakin culture wants to distract you from the fact we're a nation of bloodthirsty bootlicking hyperfascists" lives forever in my mind. fucking literally.

oh btw did you know our cops have their own thin blue line flag? and we have our own "woopsie daisy there's Nazis in the army" scandals? we can be just like the US just with more of a sunburn and more mullets.

oh yea did you know bluey the kids show bluey had an episode where someone's dad was in the army? to make kids feel represented for having army parents? even dog Australia is killing people in far off countries! doesn't that make you feel seen? that even dogs have warcriminal cunts in their family just like your mum and dad?

racist joke of a country that shouldn't fucking exist.

ok i think I've gotten that out of my system. fuck.

[misc-obeyme]

For the 1k prompt (which btw congrats) i would want to request that MC luck saves their life by axcidently summoning Michael

Hello there, anon!

So okay, this is just remnants of my 500 follower event lol. I haven't started the 1k event yet so I guess this is just a pre-event? Anyway...

I know I said any character aside from Mephisto, Raphael, and Thirteen, but I honestly did not even think about Michael. I wasn't expecting anyone to request him. I was going to say that I won't write for him, either, but then I changed my mind.

The thing about the other three is that we have some information on them and I feel like I know their characters fairly well except for how they are when they're being romanced. So I'm just waiting until they become dateable to start writing about them.

But Michael? We have very little info on him, just enough to get a glimpse into his character.

So I wrote this based entirely on my own headcanon of what I think he's like based on what we've seen so far. I described him, too, but again, that's entirely my own headcanon since we don't have an official design for him yet.

This takes place in the human world because I think if he showed up in the Devildom it would likely cause some problems. It also ended up almost twice as long as most of these little blurbs, but that's because I felt like I had to describe more than usual.

Anyway, I hope this is close to what you were looking for. I actually had a lot of fun writing it because I was able to take so many artistic liberties lol.

Thanks for the request!

GN!MC x Michael with prompt Luck

Warnings: well MC almost dies, but doesn't actually die so do with that what you will, also I would say a lot of making up stuff for Michael

You had returned to the human world for a little time away, to see your family and friends, to experience sunlight again. It was just a short time that you would be there, but you made sure to make the most of it.

And so you had decided to go on a little hike in a nature area nearby where you lived. It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining brightly that morning. It wasn't too hot out, so it was the perfect time to go enjoy the nature of the human world for a little bit.

You spent time in the Devildom flora, too, of course. But it wasn't quite the same as the familiar trees and plants of the human world. The sunlight streamed through a handful of white puffy clouds as you went, listening to the cheerful bird song, hearing the sound of a nearby stream. You pulled in a lungful of fresh air, thinking about how next time you might invite your favorite demon to come back to the human world with you. How nice it would be to walk this path with him side-by-side. To show him where you lived before you came to stay in the House of Lamentation.

You reached the edge of a tall cliff that overlooked a beautiful stretch of forest. Beneath you, you could see the tops of trees and the sparkle of a distant river. You took one step closer to the edge, wanting to see as much as you could, taking in the sight of the blue sky stretching out above you.

There was a hole in the ground right where you stepped and your ankle rolled. You felt yourself unable to stay standing, falling as the pain shot through your leg. You hoped to at least catch yourself on your hands when you hit the ground, reaching out desperately. But you were too close to the edge, the momentum of your body was too strong, and you felt yourself go over. Your fingers scraped the edge of the cliff as you went, still trying in those last seconds to stop yourself.

And then you were free falling. The wind was rushing past you, pushing on you, as you plummeted. Your mind was in complete panic, full on terror screaming through it, and you thought you might be screaming with your voice, too, but you were too disoriented to tell. You could sense a burning on your finger, so hot it made you shake your hand as an automatic response. But you still didn't register that fully as the fear overcame you.

You closed your eyes, prepared to hit the ground, prepared for pain at the very least and death at the very worst.

But you never hit the ground.

Instead, you stopped. It felt like you were suspended in midair. Your heart was still racing, your mind still screaming, but you could also feel arms around your waist and the still burning sensation around one of your fingers.

You opened your eyes and found yourself looking back at a man with large white wings that had an opalescent sheen to them. His arms were what you could feel around you. You could barely see his face because he was glowing so brightly - an almost blinding light. You looked down at your burning finger and saw a similar light radiating from the Ring of Light.

With a great flap of those mighty wings, you were propelled back upward. You felt your feet touch the ground, a little ways off from the edge of the cliff you had just fallen from.

The light dispersed from your ring, your finger no longer felt like it was being burned. The man who still held you lost his glow as well and suddenly you could make him out.

There was no doubt that you were looking at an angel. His eyes were like the eyes of all the other angels you knew, blue with a distinct halo shape inside it. But where normally there was gold, here you saw a prismatic shine of rainbow colors. His hair was long, cascading down his back in bright golden blond waves. His white garment was gathered at one shoulder, held there by a clasp made of opal and glass. His other shoulder was bare, half of his chest visible to you. A single gold chain hung around his neck. His wings spread out behind him, the pearly sheen of them glimmering in the sun.

You were mesmerized by this figure before you, but you were also still dealing with the adrenaline and fear of having almost lost your life. You found that at some point you had begun to grip the arms that were around your waist.

"Who…?" you managed to ask.

The angel smiled and you nearly fainted at the way it transformed his face, from concern to something that could only be described as beautiful.

"You know me," he said. "I'm Michael. You inadvertently summoned me as you were falling from the cliff. The Ring of Light let me know that you were in danger. It's lucky that I was able to leave the Celestial Realm in time to catch you."

Michael? The Michael? Well, it wasn't like this was the first time he had saved your life.

"Th-thank you," you said weakly.

"Are you going to be all right?" Michael asked.

You took several deep breaths before letting go of his arms and stepping away from him. "Yes," you said firmly. "I'm going to be fine. Thank you for saving me… again."

Michael chuckled. "I know you have no reason to trust me, MC," he said. "But I can often tell when you're in danger and I will intervene if I need to. My former brothers care for you very much. Please try to be more careful."

You nodded, still too overwhelmed with everything that had happened to form a real coherent thought.

Michael surprised you by reaching out to brush your cheek with his fingertips, his expression going soft. "I'm really beginning to understand what it is they see in you."

You stared at him, eyes wide, but you didn't have a chance to respond.

He smiled again, stepping back. "Farewell, MC. Until we meet again."

You had to shield your eyes as he began to glow again. He flapped his wings once, lifting into the sky, before simply disappearing in a glimmer of light.

You stared at the blue sky for some time before deciding you would go home earlier than you had anticipated. The fear of having almost fallen to your death was still fresh in your mind. And the feeling of that angel's arms around you persisted. You looked down at the ring on your finger and wondered just how much luck had been involved.

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[shelby-fangirl00]

Lie To Me-part one (oc x John Shelby x Tommy Shelby)

Hey y'all! I force myself to push this out but I have a lot of ideas for the story! This was originally a love triangle request. My internship is over BTW! I feel so motivated to get back to posting. Please leave comments on what you think of this!

Summary: Irene has been seeing John Shelby for a year now on and off. In John's absence, Irene begins to feel a pull towards Tommy.

Warnings: Language, no smut, talk of sex, fluff

Word Count: 3367

I groggily sat up to answer the light knocks on my door. It was definitely the early hours of the morning the sun wasn’t up yet. ‘Who the fuck is it?’ No answer.

I slowly lifted the covers and threw on the robe hanging off of the kitchen chair. The knocking became more insistent the longer I took. 

‘Christ, alright!’ I yelled as I opened the door to find one very cheeky Shelby grinning from ear to ear. 

‘You’re only…6 hours late tonight!’ I mocked at John, crossing my arms over my chest in defense. 

He rolled his eyes and threw his head back in laughter. ‘Can you forgive me?’ he tore his cap off and placed it over his chest, batting those big brown eyes at me. Trying to avoid his goofy (but also adorable) gestures, I whipped around, leaving the door open as an invitation for him to come in. 

John quickly shut the door, coming up behind me. His hands found their way to my hips and squeezed tightly. He craned his face into my neck, attacking me in small kisses. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…’ He whispered after each kiss, tickling my neck. His familiar scent filled my nose and I knew I was a goner. Why did he have to be so damn charming?

I smiled weakly. Forgiving him is too easy. We’d been seeing each other on and off for a year. Well, we aren’t together, but I’m definitely not pursuing others. John, on the other hand, is. Of course, it fucking hurts, but I would never admit that to him. I keep trying to tell myself that it’s just sex, even though sometimes, it feels deeper than that. But my freedom means more than this relationship with John. I know the price of being exclusive with John Shelby. I would never be fully free again. I don’t have any interest in being a wife either. My space and independence are sacred. 

I moved in next to the betting shop a year ago, still live here now. Almost instantly, John caught my eye. The first thing I noticed was his childish smile. His charisma was contagious. I was quite smitten when he showed interest in me. Aside from the sex, he’s been a great friend. 

‘Where were you this time?’ I turned around and took a step backwards. 

He frowned down at me, taking a step forward. ‘I just got the chance to sneak out of Tommy’s clutches. Had me and Arthur running around all of fucking Small Heath. You know how it goes with him, Irene…I really did try.’ He let his fingers intertwine in mine. 

‘I do know how it goes with your tyrant brother.’ I huffed out, resting my arms on his shoulders, a sign of defeat. He chuckled as his callused fingers found their way to the knot in my robe. In one motion, he loosened it and pushed the fabric slowly off my shoulders. As the robe softly hit the wooden floorboards, I covered my chest shyly, like he hadn’t seen every inch of me already. 

He laughed in that menacing tone. ‘Don’t hide from me now.’ 

He pushed my hands down, replacing them with his own. I couldn’t help but softly gasp in response. When he touched me, I couldn’t reject him even if I tried. To most people, John was an intimidating man. I’ve never found that to be true. I couldn’t be more at ease around him. I could say whatever I felt with no judgment (because he’s in no position to do so). I laughed and smiled more when he was around I feel the child within me being heard and nurtured whenever were together. And then he leaves, sometimes for weeks, with no word. Like he never existed, only in my head. Until he finally comes back again.

‘You’ll just have to make it up to me then.’ I giggled as his eyes traced the curve of my body. Instantly, something devilish flashed through them. In one swift motion, he bent down and threw me over his broad shoulder effortlessly, making me squeal. I playfully smacked his ass in protest. Almost instantly, his palm landed a much harder smack down to my ass. I couldn’t help but groan out in pleasure at the pain. 

‘You’ve done it now, Irene.’ 

 God, I needed this. I missed him constantly it was almost pathetic. The feeling of his strong arms wrapped protectively around me. The way his pouty lips molded over mine. Our bodies moved to the same rhythm. They knew each other so well at this point, but the bubbling excitement in my stomach never went away. 

He plopped my body onto the mattress and found his way between my legs quickly, kissing down my body, making me tremble. I relaxed back into the mattress. My hands fell into his golden-brown hair as he nibbled at the inside of my thighs. 

He looked up from between my legs, smiling deviously.

I was so lost in the sensations of his lips on my skin. I almost missed my front door swinging open. 

My eyes shot to the door to see Tommy standing in my doorway. What felt like in slow motion, I kicked John off of me and pulled the thin white sheet over my chest.

Tommy’s piercing eyes were on me the entire time. He assessed my disheveled state for a few seconds longer than seemed appropriate before turning his attention to John. What the fuck was that?

John now stood at the end of the bed, adjusting himself in his pants before studying my face and laughing again. ‘What’s wrong, love? Worried my brother snuck a peak?’ He slapped his cap back on his head. Gone again. 

I’m certain my face turned red. I was completely naked under this thin white sheet. I looked over John’s shoulder to see Tommy staring over at me again, no sign of embarrassment or uneasiness in his face, just the same cold expression he always wore. For him to stand there, silently, after busting open my door in the middle of the night. He invaded my fucking space and privacy. The only place that I used to escape, to find peace in this loud town. Who the fuck did he think he was?

I stood up, the only thing covering me was the long sheet. I was so overcome with fucking rage at his intrusion. I stomped right past John, walking straight up to Tommy. 

‘I don’t give a shit who you are, this is my home. I swear to Christ, Tommy if you do that again, I’ll fuckin shoot you! Now fuck off!’ I said coldly, pointing my tiny finger up into his face as I scolded him. I didn’t raise my voice, but I practically spat the words at him. 

His lips twitched and I knew he was holding back his anger. His eyes didn’t lie though. He was furious, too. That made me feel a smidge better. Before I started to coward back, I gave him one last shitty look before walking into the bathroom and slamming the door behind me. 

I could hear John muffling his own laugh at my outburst from outside the door. I couldn’t care less at this point. I finally got John back again, the only person I ever wanted to see. It all felt like too much at once. I went from total bliss to dread, embarrassment and anger. Angry for not having privacy with John. Angry at John for always leaving. Tears streamed down my face as I strained to hold back sobs coming from the back of my throat. 

 I could hear John sighing on the other side of the door before coming, strutting over to me at the sink. 

‘I’ll come back tomorrow night, cross my heart.’ John whispered to me in a way that helped sooth the sobs. He rubbed his hands over my arms, making me lean into his chest. I looked up and smiled lovingly, squeezing one of his biceps in my hand as a sign of affection. 

‘Please don’t promise things to me unless you can keep it, John. I-I…it’s not fair to me.’ I said weakly, letting my guard down. He used his thumbs to wipe away the stream of tears running down my cheeks. 

He flashed his teeth with a smile before leaning down to kiss me one last time. I pulled him closer by his coat, forcing him to stay just a few seconds longer. He happily grabbed the back of my head, leaning over me, controlling my mouth with his in a hasty kiss. For a quick second, I looked up from the kiss and into the hallway through the open door. My eyes landed on Tommy seemingly staring at the two of us. When I had caught him looking, his gaze averted to the ground. His hands rested in his pockets as he began to walk towards the door. The fuck is he staring at? Did he hear all of the pathetic shit I just said?

Tommy was way out of my league. He seemed untouchable. He is undoubtably the most beautiful person I have ever encountered. He was nice to look at, but he was so intimidating, that staring at him was mostly all I did. I had been around Tommy often in the past year. John would drag me out to bonfires or to the pub to drink with him and his family. I stole quick glances and prolonged stares when he wasn’t looking every now and then. I couldn’t help it. I am a woman with eyes for god’s sakes. 

But he’s also an ass. Extremely closed off. His walls were so high up that I could never tell what he was thinking. I was curious about him, at first. But I quickly understood that he is incapable of letting someone in, I’m sure of it. I steered clear of him for that reason alone. 

                                                                        -----

The next night, I waited up for hours. I wasn’t surprised, but I was disappointed. Every minute that passed in my waiting, I questioned myself over and over again. Why do I care so much if he doesn’t show? I don’t understand this constant validation I need from him. Deep down I know it’s about me. My own insecurities about needing to be wanted and needing to be desired. John quickly fell into the role. 

I slouched against the big sofa, letting my eyes fall shut. I listened to the embers in the fireplace crack. I snuggled in and tried to forget about the past couple of nights.

Then there was a knock at the door. My eyes shot open and all of the worries and insecurities seemed to fall off of my shoulders (pathetic). Thank God. I creeped up to the door, taking a deep breath before swinging it open.

‘Evening Irene.’ Tommy stood in the door way. I was suddenly very aware of what little clothes I had on. I was expecting John, so I was in nothing but a tight nightgown that didn’t cover much of anything. 

‘It’s late Tommy, what are you doing here again?’ He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes were heavy but still so intense as he held my gaze. 

‘Can I come in? Just for a moment, I promise.’ His voice was low and raspy. What the hell is happening right now? I have never been alone with him before, especially trapped in my tiny flat, in the middle of the night. 

I thought about slamming the door in his face for a few seconds before his eyes practically moved the door open for me. I watched him walk inside, shedding his heavy coat, leaving him in his perfectly fitted black suit. His hair was a bit more disheveled than what I was used to. He seemed a bit more human alone like this with me. 

He sat down at the small kitchen table casually, taking out a cigarette and lighting it with a match from his pocket. I watched every movement of his hands as he did so. He had a way of owning any room he walked into. ‘He is stunning’ seemed to be the only thought running through my head. Finally breaking the silence, I sat down in the chair across from him, not bothering to offer him a drink. 

‘Right, so what is it?’ I asked him, placing my hands in my lap. 

‘I wanted to apologize.’ 

There was a pause. 

‘You sure of that?’ I laughed before leaning over the kitchen table and snagging the cigarette he was holding daintily between his fingers. As I did so, his eyes darted straight to my chest. I was practically spilling out of the thin lace covering my chest. A not so small tinge of excitement stirred in my stomach. I quickly moved back in the chair, taking a long drag.

‘I shouldn’t have barged in here the other night. I was pissed at John for leaving Arthur alone on the job and I just acted on instinct.’ That was more than you ever expected from him, sadly, because it wasn’t much. 

‘Tommy, you invaded my space. It may not matter to you, but this place is important to me. I value that I can be fully…undone here. I can’t be that way anywhere else. So, when you came in and saw me and John…it made me feel crazy. I understand he ran off on you, but Jesus, do you not know what me and John do when he’s here?’ I laughed.

He nodded his head slowly the entire time, his eyes never wavered. He took a few moments to take it in. 

‘I’m sorry I violated your privacy, Irene. Your anger was justified.’ He said, and to my shock, it sounded so sincere, it almost sounded like it pained him. 

I stood up quickly, handing him back the cigarette before answering. 

‘It’s water under the bridge then. Now, do you want whiskey?’ I said walking towards my kitchen sink, changing the subject quickly.

I could feel his eyes on the back of me as I went through the motions of grabbing two glasses and bringing the entire bottle to the table. 

‘It’s quite late for you, isn’t it?’ He chuckled out, but not declining.

I shrugged as I placed the bottle and glasses on the table and took the seat beside him instead of across from him now. He smiled sheepishly as he watched my movements and noticing my choice in seat.

‘I was already awake, so why not. Unless you have somewhere else to be at…2 in the morning?’ 

                                                                  ----------

It was now 4 a.m., and Tommy was still here. We had moved far past the point of awkwardness. We were chatting and joking like two old friends. At some point in the night, our seats had scooted only inches apart from each other, but neither of us seemed to notice or care. It was strange to say, but it just seemed natural like this. He asked me about my life before Small Heath. I asked him about his upbringing and growing up with siblings, since I had none. We also gossiped like two little girls about some of the people in town. He shared silly stories about John that made me laugh. I was having fun.

I could tell Tommy was comfortable too when he had shed a layer of protection. He was now only in a white button-up. The cuffs were rolled up his forearms, exposing skin I had never seen before. I tried not to stare. 

We were nearly ¾ of the way through with the bottle. I don’t know why he was still here entertaining me; this was supposed to be a quick conversation. But I didn’t mind…not at all really. 

‘Can I ask you something?’ He seemed to stiffen a bit. He fussed with his empty glass, tracing his fingers around the brim. 

‘Yes?’ I almost asked, scared of his shift in tone. I didn’t want the ease of this night to end just yet. 

‘Were you waiting up on John tonight when you came to the door?’ 

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Not at his question, but at the thought of John’s empty promises to me. 

I sighed before pouring both of us another drink. 

‘I know, I’m pathetic. Not delusional though. Just pathetic.’ I was alluding to the fact that I knew he was seeing other people outside of me, I wasn’t stupid. 

‘If you know…then why do you wait around still?’ 

‘I dunno I just…John is the only person who has made me feel…wanted since I moved to Small Heath. It’s only been him for the past year. When he’s here…its perfect. But when he isn’t, which is often, I just feel alone here sometimes is all and he helps.’ I tried to play it off as if this wasn’t a big deal to me. 

He was listening and studying me as I talked, his eyebrows scrunched up in question. 

‘Have you ever let someone else keep you company? It’s only fair to yourself, Irene. He’s my brother and a good man, but he’s young and still…figuring it all out.’ My stomach fluttered, more persistent this time at his words. Was he suggesting that I let him keep me company or was he just giving advice out to me? Either way, I was beaming on the inside with admiration for him in this moment. There was a prolonged moment of silence as we both studied each other. 

‘But what do I know, eh?’ He chuckled off as he downed his drink. I finally took a deep breath in as he stood up and began to roll down the sleeves of his shirt, preparing to leave. 

Dread filled my stomach. I didn’t want him to leave but I would never tell him that. It may have been all of the alcohol, but I felt a bit infatuated with my fuck buddy’s older and more mature brother. 

‘Leaving already?’ sounding a bit too desperate, I stood up with him. As I did so, his eyes slowly fell down all of the exposed skin in my nightgown, with no hesitation. His eyes lingered on my chest and my breath hitched, making my chest rise and fall heavily. He watched in amazement before returning to my face.

‘Is there a reason that I should stay?’ His voice was suddenly deep and sultry, a new tone that sent sparks through my core. Was this actually happening or was I just making assumptions? 

‘I suppose not.’ I chuckled and he slowly went for his jacket, not bothering to put it on, slinging it over his arm.

‘Thank you, Tommy. For keeping me company tonight. I’m glad you came.’ I smiled softly at him as he stood in front of the door, inches away from me. 

He gave me a small smile back. ‘My pleasure. If you ever need someone to drink with again, I’m always the next door over. Alright?’

I stepped even closer to him, reaching my hand out and squeezing his big hand in mine. The contact made my head fuzzy and warm. It was a simple gesture of affection. I wanted him to know I really did enjoy his company. 

With a tired smile, he leaned down and came face to face with me before turning and planting a soft kiss to my cheek. His lips touched my skin and I nearly gasped. My face turned the color of a damn tomato at his sweet gesture. 

‘Goodnight, love.’

Before I could even react, he opened the door and closed it shut behind him. I stood there alone, speechless at his last move. The whole night was unexpected. I would be a lying if I said I didn’t feel a pull towards him. Was it so bad if I wanted Tommy? It’s not like John is my boyfriend. For some reason, I felt dirty and like I did something wrong, even though I know I didn’t. Is it wrong to want both of them? 

Taglist: @lyarr24 @forgottenpeakywriter @casa-boiardi @tigernach575 @crabat-the-queen @adaydreamaway08 @trixie23 @sunset24t @star017 @oizyss88

[casablancarossa]

All I need is you.

<<an [18+] taemin x reader story>>

Pairings : Taemin x female!reader

Genre: Smut, Mini Angst. Extra Extra Mini Fluff

Content Warning : 18+, Minors DNI, Unprotected Sex, Implications of SelfHarm/Depression. Pillow Talk

Synopsis: Taemin was no-show which left you feeling pretty down and unwanted, but its Taemin and he will do anything to make sure you no longer doubt how much he wants you.

Authors Note: It's long, its steamy. So here ya go darlings. BTW, while this is a continuation of 'Please Amore', didn't realize I was going to write about mirrors again. With a man this good looking, of course he would have a inclination towards mirrors.

Also I refuse to be held liable for how long this post is.. I couldn't write one moment and suddenly I couldn't stop writing.. So Yeah.

God bless the metamorph concerts.. so many pics to use .

Enjoy Reading!!

"So... amore.."

Taemin's dulcet call doesn't even come close to budging you out of your position in bed. Poor guy is practically unprotected in bed as you had managed to form a cocoon out of the blanket and remained in there, huffing something about a forgotten date or plan, or something along those lines. His arms reach out, placing a hand on the soft covers, pushing it down far enough so that he could see your face.

You were far from impressed and it will take every inch of your being from being livid and if your boyfriend was not so damn adorable, you would have probably used the pillows and hit him repeatedly until its feathery innards exploded. "You made me wait like a fool... in front of the company building, no less." you hissed through your teeth. The cocoon you were in had finally exploded, chucking it towards Taemin, immediately walking towards the door.

Not even the beckoning meows of Kkoong stopped you from huffing and immediately dropping onto the couch, grabbing the throw to cover your legs.

"Y/n-ah, you know I didn't mean to bail" Taemin's voice called out from the bedroom. It was followed by the noises of slippers shuffling on the floor as he waddles out, now cocooning himself with the blanket. He moves towards you and really pushing the cute act, plopping down to lay on top of you. "I'm sorry..." he mumbles, burying his head on your lap.

"One night, Taemin. All I wanted was one night" you sighed, folding your arms to stop yourself from dropping an ounce of affection.

"When I get back from Japan, I promise, we can have a fully week of uninterrupted date nights."

"No point now is there", you huffed quietly.

Being in the same room as Taemin made your heart break, and the more physical distance there is between you, the better it is, letting the silence heal your wounded ego.

With Taemin's schedule suddenly ramping up since his concert and amongst TV appearances and being holed up in the studio, you had rarely seen him the last two weeks. Maybe three. Within that time period, Taemin had flaked out on maybe four planned dates. Two of which he planned himself, but at least you were at home and half ready, so it didn't bother you. Three if you included tonight, but this time you had gotten ready and stood outside SM's building for over an hour, and only got the text from Taemin saying there was traffic it'll probably be an hour or two before he gets home. When you asked for an elaboration, no response.

It wasn't like Taemin to not respond and you were too annoyed to rationalize his actions, immediately jumping to the worse conclusions an angry woman could possibly think of. He is either cheating, or he is dying, and the former seemed more likely in your head. Now, you know, Taemin wouldn't dare enter an affair, honestly you didn't think it was possible, but Taemin would always be upfront about missing things due to schedule because it was his way of facing accountability. It was no secret that he has picked his schedule over you at times, not intending malice, but he would often think these things would be done on time and he would be home in time for you.

Your eyes flicker to the clock on the wall as it quietly ticked. 2:15. It had gotten so late and it dawned on you that you had been moping for over 3 hours and Taemin had only walked through the door maybe an hour ago. "I'm going for a shower, then go to bed. You should sleep, you still have an early schedule tomorrow", you mumbled, shifting your body so that Taemin's head would drop on the seat of th couch.

His eyes followed your hunched figure making way to the bathroom, noting how hard you were trying to act casual. Act as if you weren't pissed at all, but he could see it in your face. How your lips curled down to a frown and your eyes seemed void of any emotion. Taemin quietly remained on the couch, waiting for the sound of water hit the floor. It puzzled the man that he didn't hear music coming from your end, usually your shower times would always have music in the background. The bathroom was your studio and you thought that the shower was loud enough to hide your singing, but this time it was silent. At that moment it clicked in Taemin's head that you were really not happy.

Filled with enough resolve to pull an all-nighter, Taemin would try to make you feel better, even at the cost of sleep. He might as well tidy up and create a cozy space for you, grabbing the plushies that were resting on the windowsill and throwing them to the bed.

As he was chaotically, setting out the comfy pillows and blankets, the string lights and the scented candles, Taemin noticed the mess of clothes, roughly kicked under the bed along with a pen cap. He thought of the situation as odd, investigating the clothes and noticing that it was one of the dresses he bought for you. White silk with lace trims and pen marks just at the hem.

Taemin put two and two together and dropped everything he was doing so he could sneak to the bathroom to see if his assumptions were correct. And it was. He managed to crack the door slightly and through the reflection of the bathroom mirror, he could see parts of your body, covered in pen marks, specifically in writing and he didn't need to read it to know the contents of it.

Often, during your 'low' days, instead of wallowing in sadness and damaging your health, you would write the demeaning thoughts that raptured your brain. The comments were harsh, hurtful and downright despicable, but they were words to yourself and usually at the end of the night, Taemin would carefully wash away those words, filling you with words of affirmation and making sure that you knew how amazing you are, how strong you are, how beautiful you are and how grateful he is to have a partner like you.

"Amore? I'm coming in.."

The voice snapped you out of your zombied state, looking up to see Taemin, open the door a bit more as he watches you carelessly scrubbing at your thigh trying to get the writing off. Your body spin slightly to hide yourself, you didn't want him to see you like this. In your head, you have been doing so well, but after being bailed on, your insecurities were set to over 9000 and with so many female idols professing their crush on Taemin, you suddenly felt unwanted.

The feeling of the warm shower felt nice against your skin, but Taemin's timid kisses on your shoulder had caught you off guard, suddenly feeling as if fire coated your body. "Don't take my job away from me", his husky whisper, caused the hair on your neck to stand and soon your body was shifted to sit on the edge of the bathtub next to the shower.

You looked up again to see that Taemin had not taken off his clothes, subsequently getting soaked, as he adjusts the shower head so at least the stream could reach your feet from where you were sat. His hands grabs the sponge and soap and began working on the space just above your knees. "If you had told me, I would have dropped everything..."

"I don't want to be that type of person who disrupts her boyfriend's schedule.."

"I don't care. If I had known that you had a bad morning, I would have re-scheduled everything for after Japan.."

"It's fine amore... It's just a stupid overreaction.." your voice was a low whisper barely audible but there was a hitch on your throat that let Taemin know, it was anything but an overreaction. In part, he could tell it was his fault.

"So what did you write?", he asks despite having already read the legible parts before he scrubbed it off.

"Oh you know.. the usual stuff.." you began, feeling at ease as most of the ink had faded, becoming illegible enough that you or Taemin couldn't read it. "..mostly, how much I hate you.", you finally teased.

"That's fair. You could hate me all you want. But, I still love you", Taemin beamed despite letting out a defeated sigh, his hands carefully massage your calves with much earnestly as his head lowers to plant a trail of kisses on your thighs.

"You sure? Am I not too.. much?"

"Never..." Taemin placed an arm on either side of you, propping himself up so he could kiss your lips, pushing a little harder at your reciprocation. "All.. I ever wanted.. All I ever needed is here in front of me", he breathes out slowly, staring at you as your foreheads press together.

"I'm sure... you have said that plenty of times.." you sighed defeatedly, pulling away so you could grab the sponge and continue scrubbing at your arms, bending it at odd angles to get everything off.

You were no stranger to letting Taemin be fully aware of your insecurities and fears. You have been together for a while now and maybe his enlistment helped you stay secure, but now that he is out an about, it kind of itched at the back of your head. You weren't conventionally the type of girl that Taemin had relationships with. He is deceptively close to a lot of the female stylists, and heck up until recently, worked with an ex until the end of the 'Guilty' promotions.

"Don't speak like that.. I hate that you think that you don't deserve being loved.. especially from an idiot like me". Taemin's words were so adamant and full of intent that it caught you off guard.

There was a moment of silence that clouded room and Taemin took the opportunity to rid your body from any more nasty words. You watched him closely still trying to decipher the faded letters on your skin, frowning as he makes his own assumptions and then frowning at you disapprovingly before leaving kisses whenever he successfully scrubs a bad word off. As he turns off the shower, you observed how clothes were sticking onto his body and you couldn't help but admire how he kept his physique.

Gods. I don't deserve you. You let out a scoff, laughing to yourself of how stupid you were feeling. But seeing Taemin look equally hurt, washed all those worries and anger that was directed at him.

He flashed an endearing smile towards you, crouching down so that you were at the same eye level. "Y/N-ah, I will spend the rest of my days, trying to show you how much I love you.. if you'd let me", his last words were cut off by him placing another kiss at your lips, settling himself in between your legs. quickly wrapping your legs around his waist so he could pick you up.

"Woah, woah wait, Taemin, I'm still drenched. We're both wet mops!" you squealed as your body get lifted from your seat, wrapping yourself around Taemin's torso, trying not to slip. See he was surprisingly strong. You had thanked Minho for that, and you weren't necessarily lighter than Taemin either, being on a thicker side but he swears he loves that about you. More to love, he says.

You both giggled like little school children as Taemin carries you back to the bedroom, while in your head you cursed yourself for needing to go back out to clean the trail of water droplets before it causes an accident. But by the time your body had been dropped onto the fluffy blanket that Taemin had set out, all thoughts had left your head. The room was surprisingly warm and warmly lit too. Your head tilted back to see the string lights had been set up and the smell of peonies and vanilla covered the room. You were so distracted, you didn't even see Taemin trying to herd Kkoong and Daeng out of the room as he closes the door behind him.

It didn't take long either, but soon you found yourself under Taemin as he crawls on top of you, staring into your eyes lovingly. He couldn't help but be mesmerized at how much you were like a ray of sunshine to him. He would never let anything harm you. Not even himself.

That being said, on closer inspection of your body, he could tell by the faint bruising on the intimate parts of your body, that recently he had been rough in bed with you and while you didn't complain, he was aware he needed to show his affection and need for you in a more gentle manner this time. "Amore? Can I love your body as well please?" he asks so sweetly that you could only cup his face, and turn your head away, trying to not get embarrassed.

There was something pure about every time Taemin asks for permission. Usually he takes what he wants and it drives you insane (in a good way), but when he tries to be more loving about it, it felt like it was the first time for both of you; playful, clumsy, shy, always asking if things are okay and whether a line was crossed. But Taemin had done it so beautifully where sex was at your own pace and intensity, at moments like these, you were in charge, not in the dominant sense, but in general. Yes, he'd still dominate you, but it felt different. Instead of being the obediant submissive, that succumbed to the naughty wiles of your boyfriend, you felt like you were his only air to breath, a goddess to worship.

Taemin did revel when you are like this though. To see you flushed on the bed, when your legs would twitch and rub against each other when his finger would graze down your torso. Delicately, he would trace down from your lips, down your neck and over the hill of your breast and down your stomach. It was tantalizing and almost overbearing for you to handle. His movement was light as a feather and would apply enough pressure to on certain parts to bring you back to him.

Quickly, Taemin peels his wet shirt off his body, sighing in comfort before turns his attention to you again.His body shifts a little bit, lowering his body onto yours, bringing his lips to your ears. "I know this isn't enough to make up for tonight.. " his low shuddering voice, caused your to mewl, rolling your head aside, exposing the areas, you needed him to stimulate.

Slowly, resting his weight on your body, he leaves tantalizing kisses on your neck and collarbone, repeatedly whispering your name as if it was the only word he knows. His devious hands roam the sides of your body before quickly grasping the back of your knee on one leg and pulling it up to wrap around his waist. The movement caused his hips to thrust gently, making you feel through his sweatpants, his bulge, protruding and grinding onto your naked core.

A bare moan barely escaped your throat before Taemin occupied your vacant lips, weighing down in the kiss with so much need and urgency. You were suddenly in a daze when he left your lips and targeted your breasts. Just a little nip made your body almost sit up but Taemin shot down that reaction by keeping a firm palm just on the middle of your chest, essentially, holding you down.

Taemin had always played like this, being so agonizingly slow and unpredictable and his tongue darted out, lapping at your nipples before sucking on the area around it. Your back arches upward, feeling the built up tension forming in between your legs and suddenly you were need to feel something more and not even grinding through his sweatpants is going to cut it.

"Amore.. please.." you whimpered shyly, turning your head to stare at the wall, using one of your hands to cover your face.

"Hm?"

"Please take me.."

"I don't think you're being serious", he lets out a soft giggle, teasing you as he sits up, trying to shift down the band of his sweats, pushing down his boxers as well.

Seeing his dick pop out all the sudden made your eyes roll, biting your lip and mumbled your initial statement under your breath, horribly failing at controlling yourself.

"Oh.. I guess, I should put this away then.." his voice was so playful that it ticked a nerve.

"Oh for the love of god Taemin, please!" your tone was a mixture of desperation and annoyance, but as you tried to sit up to scowl at him, Taemin with his best effort, pinned you back down on the bed again.

Taemin was holding you down by the shoulders, boring a hole through you with his eyes, but you were so flushed and excited that you couldn't even look at him in the eyes. Your body however was telling a different story as your legs have parted, allowing Taemin to slot himself in the middle, now with shaft pressed in between your bodies.

Carefully, one of his hands, held onto yours, bringing up just to the side of your head. His other hand reaches down and guides his member just to your heated core, gently pushing himself in until he was fully engulfed in you. The slow spread made you wince. Naturally with Taemin's busy schedule, there wasn't really enough time to have sex constantly and that left you feeling pretty tight, as if you walls forgot the shape of his dick.

"Oh...fuck", he hisses, if it felt too tight around him, god knows how it must be for you. "Are you okay? Do you want me to take it slow?"

Your head feverishly shakes from side to side, assuring him that you're okay, gently patting your hand on his arm, mouthing the words 'keep going'.

One slow movement out and Taemin quickly thrusts his hips, causing a jolt in your senses, covering your mouth with the back of your free hand to prevent any loud noises. Your boyfriend frowned, adjusting himself so he could finally lower his torso on top of yours.

"No no, I want to hear you", following through his words by resting head in the direction your face was pointed at, close enough that his ear was pressed against your lips.

Wasting no time, Taemin moves his hips again, finally hearing the soft yelp that left your lips, whimpering needlessly as your body feels overwhelmed with how you were coming undone beneath him. Every time he snaps his hips forward, you could feel your legs raise each time, groaning as he hits new depth in you in this manner, which made you mumble profanities into his ear.

Snickering, Taemin tries to reach upwards, grabbing a pillow before kissing you gently on the lips, his sudden slow pace winds you down before fully pulling away.

"My my amore.. look how wet you are" his eyes practically shined seeing your legs spread, seeing how your region was throbbing from suddenly feeling empty.

"Shut up..." you could only manage to whine before you felt his hands snake under you, pulling your hips up so he can place the fluffed up pillow under you.

As he attempts to push your hips and legs further up and closer to your chest, so he can scoot himself closer to you, your hands immediately dart forwards, digging your nail into his arm to catch his attention. Taemin slightly raised his head, his eyes were so dark and like a mist of lust had clouded over them and he was trying to hard not to lose control around you.

You could only flash a sweet smile before struggling slightly to raised you hand, enough for your fingers to caress his cheeks before using your other arm to lever you upwards, enough so that you could reach to tug at Taemin's hair before pushing his head down slightly.

"Clean me." the soft request from you was met with a low growl from Taemin before smirking at you. He was more than happy to comply, quickly shuffling downwards so his face was mere inches from your groin.

"Say it again...", he whispered,, casting a cool breath on your pelvic area, slowly blowing a trail further down, waiting for your words.

"Please clean me, amo---ahh", you could barely finish your statement before Taemin's tongue dart out, giving your clit a tentative lick, placing the flat muscle firmly against it. He loved how you moaned uncontrollably. He knew how much it took within you to ask him to basically eat you out. While you had no issue sucking his pretty little soul out of his dick; eating you out at your request was not something you did often. It usually got you going quick, and the orgasms you would experience is far from your general orgasms, you knew that, he knew that.

It wasn't long before his lips cascaded downwards, forming a suction at your entrance and happily sucking up the trail of wetness that managed to form and drip from your core. The way he lapped his tongue around the entrance of your pussy could drive you insane. but Taemin being Taemin, he couldn't help himself.

Mustering enough strength, he finally hoists your legs around his shoulders, while he sat up to a kneeling position. Taemin's arms wrapped so tightly around your waist, not only to keep the lower half of your body upwards, but he was ready to devour you.

It was already hard on your to almost balance your weight on your shoulders and if it weren't for Taemin's grip around your form, you would have been rendered helpless, quivering, when his tongue descends into your pussy, twirling his tongue for a bit before attacking the main prize once more, back to your clit. You had been so overwhelmed that your bud was so sensitive to any type of friction and when Taemin decided to continuously flick at it with his tongue before giving it a quick suck, its like hot white flashes burned into your eyelids.

You wouldn't last long in this state, not that it mattered to your boyfriend, he was more than determined to let you orgasm in his mouth. "F-fu..ck, Taem... fuck.." you could only muster two words repeatedly as your legs almost clench around his head and suddenly you had enough strength to indeed balance your weight on your shoulders, arching your back and needlessly grabbing onto his dark locks.

In response, Taemin's efforts were doubled. "Cum for me". His words vibrated through as his hold went from around your body, to white knuckle death grip on your hips, making sure you couldn't escape even if you tried. And there you would finally grace his tongue with your orgasm as your legs twitched endlessly and a squeal finally breaks free from throat. He would diligently lap it all up, making sure not a single drop was wasted.

"Mm, such a good tasting girl" Taemin chuckles before finally letting your body drop to the bed, letting your catch your breath. "What do you think Amore? Should I finally fuck you again? Or should I make you watch me show you how amazing your body is?"

His questions piqued your curiosity, you obviously wanted nothing more than Taemin in you. You've been so needy for him that not even rummaging through your collection of sex-toys could please you, but because you took to long to respond, it was practically obvious you wanted to see what the second suggestion meant.

The devilish man, finally smiled, leaning down to give your forehead a quick peck before shuffling to the other edge of the bed, holding your hand and guiding you to sit with him on his side. He motions for you to stay where you are as he gets up to scoot the clothing rack, meant for robes/towels/clothing ready to be worn for the day, aside , revealing a wide full body length mirror.

Quizzically darting your eyes between your reflection and his, you were snapped out of your confusion when Taemin gently lifts your head by your chin with his finger, leaning down to capture your lips, softly moaning your name out.

"My love... my life...", he's doing it again. The low rumble in his voice, the voice only you hear in private. Desperation, desire all molded into a sweet tone as he kisses down your neck and out your shoulders. "My sunshine.... Y/N.. Amore", he continues on as he moves back to the bed, kneeling behind you as he pulls you just slightly back from the edge, enough so that you could lean back and rest on his chest.

Equally, Taemin's frame shrinks just slightly so he can bury his face on the crook of your neck, lavishly decorating it with kisses and little nips to stir a sound out of you. A hand reaches down between your legs, fingers tauntingly circling around your clit once more before a lone finger knocks at the entrance of your pussy, slightly pushing in.

That sensation alone was enough for your head to rock back against Taemin's shoulders, mewling slightly with your eyes closed, while his actions beforehand was weird (to you at the very least), all those questions and worries were out the window when a second finger joined the first, gently spreading your apart. It wasn't his dick, but by God was Taemin talented with his fingers. Being skilled in playing the piano only meant good things for you, naughty things for you. Taemin eagerly pumps his digits on and out of you before hooking them to look for a sweet spot. A spot that would knock out your senses before you knew it.

Once you let out a breathless gasp, he knew he had found that sweet spot and continuously massaged it, stimulating it, all the while you had not even noticed a third finger already in you, stretching your tight hole more than you could ever dream. The slick noises your pussy made drove Taemin insane. The fact you could feel him grind his hard-on on the small of your back, drove you insane. You feel the hard muscle twitch so hard behind you, it was practically slapping against your skin and the thought of it plowing in and out you, had you soaking.

It didn't take long but your legs were fully spread open, one leg raised up on the bed and the other still somewhat planted on the bed with your foot on the floor, on your tiptoes. You had become a whimpering mess only chanting your mantra of Taemin's name and God. You tried so hard not to clamp your legs shut because it could be game over if you tightened around his fingers, but something in your started stirring and the pressure built up once more.

Taemin uses his free hand to move your head to look at the mirror, whispering into your ear. "I want you to watch... I need you to see", and with that he shifted his weight, focus and energy on the hand that pleasure you. He pumped in and out of you one last time until his middle and ring finger were knuckle deep into you before hooking up and down in a crane like motion.

You finally mustered the energy and attention to look at the mirror. Oh. So this is what he wanted you to see, to make you see how much he knows your body, how much he coveted it.

"I want you to see how beautiful you are.. how much I burn for you", he callously whispered into your ear. "Look at yourself amore, look at us.."

Like he said, because he was sitting behind you, you couldn't see his face, but now you could see, how your mewls excited him, how when your lips part to sing his name, it caused him to bite his lips, and when your head would roll to the side, he would take a deep breath in, inhaling and absorbing your scent. There was something in his demeanour and actions, everything you did had an effect on him and oh boy his damn eyes. His damn eyes gave him away. He looked at you like you were his reason to live, he looks at you like he was the fucking luckiest man on earth because you chose him. Despite the ups and downs, he had you and to know that he could witness you like this, it was perfect.

While your head may be resting onto his chest, face slightly away, your eyes were still fixed on your reflection. There was something hot about it. To see yourself come undone, a whimpering broken mess on the merit of his fingers alone.

His arms and general hand was still, but you could feel his fingers manoeuvre wildly in your and suddenly those squelches became more audible. His spare hand roams around your torso, grabbing at whatever as he is in deep focus trying to achieve what you didn't know your body could do.

As the pace of his fingers intensify, so did your breathing. Suddenly it was ragged, quick paced like you had ran a marathon and the slight brush of his thumb against your clit, was the final catalyst that sent you to a different type of nirvana. The pressure you felt was not just another orgasm. You watched your reflection as Taemin had managed to make squirt, spraying onto the floor and mostly pooling in his hand. But he didn't stop there, he quickly pulled out his fingers out of you, quickly brushing his hand like a fan over your entire pussy and clit , making the spray more dispersed eliciting more than just a squeal, it was more like a guttural scream that had your whole body convulsing.

The moment had you collapsing onto the bed, narrowly avoiding Taemin, as you try to catch your breath, half rolling your torso around the bed. "Holy... good fuck..." you gasped out, suddenly your mouth felt dry and your throat felt drier. "Wha.. what the fuck amore" you let out a low chuckle, slightly bewildered that happened.

"Soon it won't just be my fingers that makes that happen" he giggles, reaching over to give your ass a little smack. "How about it Amore?", his body turns to face you slightly.

Your head whips to look up at him and his erection standing proud, you were so dazed that you didn't even expect your body to move on its own accord. Suddenly you were on your knees and elbows, on all fours, hunched over and eagerly placing Taemin in your mouth. Gratifying him his own moment of pleasure. After what you just experienced, this is the least you could do to thank him.

Once your lips had formed a seal, enough to make a pop when you pulled away, Taemin whined. It wasn't just you, him too, sensitive aching to feel bliss. For a moment the thought crossed both of you minds, you were only sucking him off to give your pussy a break, but none of you could complain. Well, Taemin would, but feeling the back of your throat with his dick sent him on whirl. He didn't even need to hold the back of your head to keep you down, you were so willing already to take as much of him in your mouth.

It took a lot of self-control not to grab your hair and push you down so hard that you couldn't breathe, but eventually Taemin buckles, his body arching forward as he braces himself on your back. The motion of your tongue swiping on the underside of his dick before puckering your cheeks in to create the sweet vacuum he would empty himself in.

Soft groans would only escape Taemin now as you head repeatedly bobs up and down his shaft, tantalizing the tip with your tongue, playfully placing kisses on his pelvis as you move to pump him with your hand. He straightens himself, head rolled back, slowly losing the ability to stay in control and you could only look up to see his chest rising and sinking rapidly each time your grip tightened just enough. The way his adam's apple with also bob on his neck as he struggles to speak. "N...no..."

"Do you want me to stop?" your voice steeped in panic.

Taemin shakes his head, chuckling in amusement.

"D-did I do something wrong?", now you sounded worried, shifting to sit up in the same kneeling position Taemin is in.

"Relax amore.. tonight was supposed to be all about you..." he whispered.

You yelped as he grabs you by the shoulders, pulling you towards him as he throws you down onto the bed, quickly positioning himself on top of you in a straddle. His hands navigate to search for yours before clasping and pinning them on either side of your head. You both giggle as you faux struggle against his grip, attempting to lean upwards to peck the corner of his lips.

"I'm serious.. Y/N, tonight is all about you, I'm here to make you feel pleasure.. love... joy... all the good things in the world, my amore" Taemin cooes as he looks down at you.

His eyes were so different again. There was glimmer in those chocolate pools that captivated you and the way he smiles at you made your heart skip a beat because gosh, his smile would be the solution to any shiity day possible. The way he would laugh, or pout when he is being a bratty boyfriend; the way he would nonchalantly do gentlemanly things without even you asking him to do it.

"Taem..you don't... you don't need to do all of that. I already know it.." you sighed as you managed to slip your hands away from Taemin's hold, finally allowing your arms to hook around his neck and pull him down. "You're such an idiot.. but I love you so much Amore" you giggled before pecking his lips.

Taemin smiled once more, deeming that one kiss was not enough, going for another one. Then another one. Followed by a third.. a fourth and essentially you two were back to making out again. Ravenously chasing each other lips, how your tongues would battle for dominance, or how you two would bite each other's lips as a way to communicate. A quick nip would be a 'please I need you', a long swipe of the teeth would be a 'show me how much you want me', but a long bite, followed by the pulling of the other lip was a 'i'm begging you'; and that is what would happen, round after round, your lips would nibble on Taemin's lower lip, hungrily moaning for more as your body begin to roll upwards against him.

Taemin shuffles once more, guiding your legs so he can kneel in between them, dotting hurried kisses up and down your body, letting out a soft growl as he pushes your legs back, allowing to align himself at your entrance, agonizingly dragging the tip of his cock up and down your slit, bumping against your clit from time to time, making you carelessly whimper in anticipation. "Should we pick up where we left off Amore?"

You could barely respond a 'yes', he didn't give you enough time to but the pleased and relieved moan you let out as you feel his dick slowly entering inside you, lets him know, it was time. He buck his hip, gently adding more force behind his thrust to gauge how sensitive you are. But as you were so relaxed and lost in the pleasure of being filled, he picked up the pace.

The two of you get so high of the primal way Taemin fucked you, like his life depended on it. The way your walls clenched around him in a periodic rhythm in time to his thrusts drove Taemin to moan your name. You like it when he does. He gets so whimpery and cute. He wouldn't be like this if he used other 'terms' of endearment, but by god, he just fucked you the same way.

Soon your hips were rolling to meet every thrust, almost pushing him in deep inside you again and it made you see stars. Your eyes would roll back, the same way your back would arch off the bed, feeling overwhelmed as Taemin would slow his thrusts, pulling out fully before slamming in again, in one quick motion. When it felt like his thrusts were causing you to slightly shift away from him, he would grab your wrists the laid on your side, keeping you still, in place as the slow deep thrusts cause you mind to go blank.

You couldn't tell, but you were barely keeping it together. The strings of nonsense you manage to let out from your lips was inane babble to Taemin's ears. You didn't want him to fuck you like this. You needed him to be closer, on top of you, so you could whisper sweet nothings into his ear. To tell him to go slow, to feel every inch of each other.

When Taemin tried to pull out for another big thrust, that's when you leaped into action, immediately sitting up, only to hook a hand around his neck, and pulling him down with you again, staring into his eyes. "I need you close... to... me" you panted.

The man smirked slightly, supporting himself on his elbows, whilst his hands were busy playing with your hair, pulling strands of your face, that way he could study the small expressions that decorated your visage whenever he thrusted. When it was a quick one, your eyes would shoot open, lips slightly parted and inaudible scream would leave you. When it was slow and deep, your lids would be half hooded, lips reddened from how hard you were biting it and delightful moan was soft and music to his ears.

Your body would only continue to squirm and writhe in pleasure as Taemin moves his hand to cup and your breasts, gently pinching your nipple before slowly and softly dragging his nails down the side of your body, reaching to pin his hand between your ass and the mattress. Every time his thrust had you lifted off the bed, he would slap your ass gently causing an excited giggle out of you. "Oh it sounds like some wants their ass red.."

Another giggle as you nod you head, looking up at Taemin with doe like eyes and feigning innocent face, which drove him wild. How could his sweet love pull such an angelic air around her while agreeing to having her ass slapped about. It was a good tactic to get what you want and you want nothing more than to feel like you could lose you senses as Taemin pounded into you.

Taemin raises himself enough so he could bring your legs together again and in one motion, flipping you around so you were on your stomach. Not needing to be told what to do, you tried to keep yourself as flat to the bed as possible, except for the slight bed in your back to perk your ass up in the air, wiggling slightly to taunt Taemin.

The man could only smirk, testing your tolerance by giving a gentle slap and listening to your pleased mewl. He places himself behind you, slapping each cheek with his dick before spreading you apart once more. Taemin wasn't stupid, he knew why you liked this position. Not only can you have the satisfaction of your cheeks being marked, but with your legs closed tight and in this bent form, you were impeccably tight. Tight enough that Taemin would have second thought fucking you in this position because it almost felt like he was breaking your walls down.

A slow hiss ripped through Taemin's teeth as he insert himself, groaning profanities. It felt tighter than it did, when you two started earlier on and at this point, he might not last much longer. Like instinct, Taemin's hands placed themselves just on the base of your spine, holding you down as he proceeds to move his hips, causing your to moan wantonly into the matress. It was erratic and aimless, you didn't know what to feel, but the pressure of being held down and being fucked in angles and depth that you didn't know could happen, your body was almost begging to release.

In your position, you swing your arms to stretch in front of you, grabbing hold on the blanket and gripping at it whenever Taemin used his weight to pile drive into your aching core. The groans and mewls and fully turned into a fully vocal and resonant cries of pleasure. Taemin had a kink for your sinful moans and you will scream the house down for both of your pleasure because you are starting to become overwhelmed.

As your head tries to turn to look back at Taemin, you catch yourself, your reflection in the mirror. Ass perked up in the air with your own personal god, fucking you like the world was about to end. Watching Taemin's reflection as he drops his all into his thrusts made you wetter than possible, Is that how we look like.. Is that how slutty I look? Fuck.. look at him, he looks so good fucking me like this. You were so enchanted by the view, you didn't even realize Taemin was looking at you through the reflection.

"Don't we look good amore?" he groans with a quick thrust. "I told you, see how beautiful you look like this" Another thrust.

It's not like you haven't watched porn, nor have sent countless of masturbation videos to each other before, but there was something deeply erotic and sensual about how Taemin's movement would have a ripple effect on you and the sight of his face as it contorts in pleasure, how his soft lips would part to moan your name before cursing under his breath.

Shyly hiding your face behind your stretched out arm as you continue to look in the mirror. "Amore.. I want to see you cum in me..", you hummed before crossing your legs and bending your knee to raise them up, essentially keeping Taemin pinned close to you.

"But first..", he slaps you ass as he feel the heel of your foot bump against his backside. "It's time for you to scream my name again".

Taemin adjusts his knelt position, and now focusing on pumping his dick in and out of you. He kept on hand applying pressure on your lower back to hold you down while the spare hand took turns in slapping each cheek, or carelessly drawing lines down your back with his nails.

It suddenly got too much as the thrusts became shallow but effectively rubbing against you sweet spot, making you cry out his name. "Oh fuck... amore... Taemin.. please". The more louder you got the more wilder the thrusts were and this time, Taemin's hands were at your hips practically slamming you onto him, each time causing you to shudder uncontrollably. "F-fuck.. fuck.. fuck.." you drawled out as the eruption of your orgasm is finally about to hit like a double deck bus.

Overwhelmed, slightly broken, the culmination of multiple orgasms back to back did lay bearing on the intensity this orgasm brought. Whilst the hight pitch scream of you lover's name filled the room, it hits you again, the sound of the loud squelching and slight spray that dared to slip Taemin' out of you. What's worse is you had your eyes open and you could see it in your reflection how intense that was for you. Warm waves of euphoria washes over you and Taemin could see it in your eyes that slight moment where daze hits and you felt that post-orgasm numbness fog your brain in an instant.

"Told you, you'd do it again...and not by my fingers this time. You did so well amore" Taemin's words of affirmation brought you comfort, although you weren't sure it was processing in your head fully.

However despite how tingling your body is, how your legs quivered as your orgasm basically washed over Taemin. Your walls pulsated, tightening further around him and it was enough to tip him over the edge.

You would continue to watch Taemin essentially lose himself, a mixture of focus and tiredness encompass his face. His eyes hooded and clouded with ecstasy. His rapid breathing mixed with the frustrated grunts, he was all too close to getting to the same state as you.

Taemin's head would throw back again, groaning nothing but your name as he would have exploded out of you mid thrust if it weren't for your legs pinning him closer to you. You used the last of your strength to keep him in places as he empties himself in you. "F-fuck. Y/N-ah", he groans as his body keels over, his now sweat ridden forehead resting on your back.

There was a moment of silence that felt like eternity as both of you catch your breath together and Taemin finally pulls away, resting against the headboard and smiling at the sight that graced him.

"Stay still amore", he finally breaks the quietness before getting up.

He slowly guides and manouvers your body around, still bent over but now you were back at the edge of the bed, but with your back turned against the mirror. Taemin sat beside you and gently patted your ass. "Do you want to see how creamy you are amore?" he teased.

With a puzzled look, you attempt to twist your torso, so you can half turn to see what Taemin meant. And creamy you did. The imagine of you slightly spreading yourself to see the final mixture of both Taemin and yours, pool slightly out of your entrance, dripping onto the bed.

"I will never get sick of seeing you filled up.." Taemin giggled, talking to you through your reflection. He beamed up once more as he took the opportunity to let you see him lean over and naughtily nip at your cheek, slapping it once you let out a pained moan.

You laugh as you push Taemin down on the bed, scooting over to straddle him, quickling teasing him by pinching his cheeks and trying to tickle his sides. "If you keep on filling me up mister.... we'll end up having a responsibility nine months later.." you huffed slightly.

"Then maybe..." Taemin's devilish grin pops before, using his hands on your waist and pulling you upwards closer that you end up sitting on his chest. He looks down to see the trail of your orgasms line his torso. He tentatively licks his lips before gently biting his lower one.

"You idiot.. eating me out now, is not going to 100% stop a pregnancy.." you laughed, slightly flicking his forehead before dismounting him. You grabbed one of the blankets and wiped Taemin's chest free from your debaucherous sins, before throwing it aside and settling in beside him.

"Hey Y/N-ah... "

"Mm?"

"I love you..."

"I love you too."

"Next time, tell me when you are having your lows so I can catch you and make you feel safe... " he mumbles softly, turning to face you as his arm drapes over your body for a hug.

You pursed your lips before smirking at him, getting the weird feeling of being annoyed because he is being so damn cute and aggression is kicking in. Your hand reaches up to aggressively pinch his cheeks.

"You are such a cheese. A baby cheese. My cheese", you sigh contentedly.

"Yes. Your baby cheese" he chuckles before lowering his frame so he could nuzzle against you, resting his head on your chest as you begin to hum and play with his hair.

"By the way.. can you lie for me and tell the rest of the members I'm sick? It's not much, but lets have that date.. at home tomorrow...or well.. when we wake up.." Taemin mumbles half realizing the time.

"Won't you get in trouble?"

"It's okay. You're worth it..." he slowly drifts off followed by the soft sounds of his snores.

"Okay, Amore... tomorrow, it will be a day just for us.. "

[sweeteaacakes]

I opened my phone and found a game I pre-registered months ago! It's called "Tokyo Debunker"!

Have you guys seen those creepy ads of a video game that looked like pkmn rip-offs called "Evertal*le"? This is one of their game and the ad caught me so I went for it. I was expecting a pixel-game but, uh, well, it's not TT-TT)... They tend to make misleading ads but this? I got caught by this...

It's more like a VN... BUUUUT it didn't disappointment me in and it served surprisingly well too!

THE PREMISE

Supernatural cases in Tokyo alongside devilish ghouls and quirky cats!

At the prestigious Darkwick Academy, your untily classmates have sold their souls to demons in exchange for a wish... and you'll have to find a way to make them work together to solve supernatural cases all over Tokyo. If you get stuck, you can always turn Darkwick's clever cat familiars for their supports!

It's comes with variety of gameplay modes!

Facilities building where your classmates can work and allows you to interact with them or read a conversation of your other classmates;

It have an "investigation" which is an... auto-turn-based battle mode. You just have to brainwork with their skills and equipments;

As bonus, it have a rhythm game! It's pretty easy since it's linear and you have to tap to allow the cat to turn around. You get 3 tries and is available for later!;

It also have co-op kode but I haven't tried yet!

Now let's start with opening!

As you can see on the imagine above, there are seven characters with each different uniform! Each of them are the leader of each "Houses".

Dark Blue: Frostheim || Yellow: Vagastrom

Orange: Jabberwock (and they have an axolotl in their emblem!!! ♡♡♡) || Dark red: Sinostra

Lilac: Hotarubi || Violet: Obscuary || Green: Mortkraken

The game will make you choose "who will you save"? It have a total of 7 houses with minimum 2 to 4 members. With Frostheim the with 4 members and Mortkraken with only 2! Obscuary is a particular one since it only shows one of its member! Once chosen a house, you will choose a character who will appear in the prolouge.

Aaaaand, yeah. The houses will be mentioned few chapters later :3

I won't spoil much but I can say that despite how lighthearted this this game is later... it knows how to jumpscare :)

And we go with Chapter 1

!!!UNDER THE CUT WILL BE A SLIGHT SPOILER TERRITORY!!!

!!!PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!!

Aye! The MC here! They're female in illustration but I prefer calling them in GN! term and named them "Lucien"! We are in a train after a music concert. The chatroom with the people we went in left the chat and only us and another person, Mina, remain. Turns out we're both in the same train too so we decide to meet up!

A moment after the train arrived at the stop...but it's not ours...

Kisaragi Station? The creepypasta °0°)!?! (/j)

So, we're now in another stop... and found ourselves in an eerie place... And an unknown number calls us. Whether we pick it up or hang down, Mina will text us...

Mina makes her way in our car. We look at the number... 7... the door slides wide open but nothing's there other than darkness. Until someone whispers in our ears.

Gehehehe. I'm not gonna show you the whole thing in case you want to see it yourself!

I cut the spoiler of this chapter here but I'll give you preview of other shots because they are gorgeous!

Asgqhdhahs THE GALAXY ILLUSTRATION SOLD ME EVEN MORE WHAT FOLLOWED—

WE HAVE A CAT WITH A HAT FOR A CONDUCTOR 😭💕✨️

And this few panels! It's not much but I wanted to show how the writing and illustration doesn't shy away from showing blood and swearing! (Note: that guy used those mirror shards as the ammo for his gun btw... pretty rad.) So far, it's fully-voiced too!

Anyways, supernatural, eldritch beings, monsters? Check! They're very creative on it uwu). Good writing? Yaah! The art? Beautiful! Good humor? Nyah! (^=w=^)b

As said before, I'm not far in the story yet. I hope to see more creepy and cool stuffs but the daylight story isn't bad either! The characters have personality. Even MC had a good impression on me. They are down-to-earth and is quick at picking up to things happening around despite the sudden event in their life.

The only sad thing is... they all have body shapes... like... um... twink shaped in their 2-D.... and only one "dark-skinned" character 🥲... usgjqhsqj the Ad*nis Ot*gari of the game 🫠🫠🫠 I think he's cool and adorable tho! He went to the academy to search for his twin brother.

No romance, just classmates being sillies(/affectionate) going around to solve the supernatural in order to mantain the world's order.

The game is rated 16+ so I'm not sure if I'll post much about this here. I just wanted to show in case someone's interested!

The illustrations really do well at gorgeous scenes and at eerie scenes.

[halfsizehellboy]

oh man okay. more thinking

hot shit do i feel enlightened bc audhd House makes so much sense to me!!! he surrounds himself with chaos and novelty and stimulation but still adheres to things that don't change-- his apartment, when he lives in it, it always set up the same way. it's mentioned he's had the same guitar for many years, as well as numerous medical texts. He uses his same red mug all the time at the hospital (he has a designated hospital mug. it lives at the hospital and he only uses it at the hospital). he is very adamant about his office space-- it only changes drastically for him in season 8. just before he leaves. he and Wilson have a fun schedule-- bowling nights, poker nights, etc-- and he does spontaneous stuff all the time, but he orchestrates it. he enacts enrichment time for his fellows and Wilson. he canonically spaces out during/stops processing conversations all the time because he's thinking. he will forget to do basic things while on cases, and there's that one episode where he stays up all night because he's cooking something. he is the king of "shit i forgot to eat. i forgot to shower and pee. i forgot--"

while im thinking of eating!! he has that bad hunger recognition. he will forgo eating for days for cases, fixations, pain levels. he usually eats off of wilson's plate anyways, and i think wilson mainly eats because he's made it part of routine, and that if he forgets to eat house definitely forgets to eat, and that usually ends badly. i dont think house has any specific avoidances but he does usually go for pizza, or anything wilson's made. he likes fries.

the adhd bit makes him more prone to addiction (it's a real thing) and he does show those behaviors (vicodin, alcohol). he has to have either the puzzles or the substances, taking him off both fucked with him a lot (mayfield and afterwards). in prison he got managed doses of vicodin, and he was getting antsy and desperate for the challenge of a good case towards the end of that arc. he all but jumps on that heat allergy guy, risking his chances of parole multiple times to try and get close. side note, did y'all see his equation scribblings on the wall by his bunk? hes so silly

ive also been thinking like. we see very large-scale self destructive behaviors from nearly everyone in the show but we don't see a lot of self-regulation outside of house's stimming so that means i get to make up my own and project onto wilson.

wilson spends a lot of time masking at work so we don't see him fully let loose and i think that he is a fan of full body movement. he's jumping up and down. he's pacing the apartment and swingin his arms. he sways and rocks in place. at the hospital and places that aren't safe he keeps the stim energy to his hands/fingers, or taps his foot/bounces his leg-- things easy enough for neurotypicals to pass off as nervous energy. he loves to click pens but he only does it when he's alone or with house because he knows that other people find it annoying (house doesn't care, he starts clicking/tapping too and it's like they're drumming together). he and house learned morse code and annoy the ducklings and cuddy with it all the time.

bad times wilson scratches a lot (this is me projecting btw). at his scalp, at his arms, anywhere he can get to; and usually he's self conscious enough to do it where he can hide it under his clothes (house is unaffected and can tell anyways)(usually because he's there trying to help wilson stop scratching)(but if he's not he can still tell and wilson doesn't wanna know how). he also presses/rubs his face a lot (in general and not just bad times wilson), and bad times wilson gets abrasions on his eyelids/cheeks from his sweatshirt when he has a meltdown. i've seen another person talk about this, but i think he absolutely tears his cuticles up. he's managed to stop biting/tearing his nails down to nothing but between vigorous scrubbing for the OR and not liking lotion (sensory bad. i need it for my arms and the backs of my hands sometimes and i always wipe it off of my palms and fingers) his hands are so dry. house makes fun of him but he does carry around a nail file because he's trying to stop picking at his fingers regularly, and limit it to a bad times emergency regulatory behavior.

house fights meltdowns to the death. he hates having them, he hates having to be vulnerable like that (and that's a canonical trauma response). he has held one off through sheer will for an entire week before wilson called out sick for him and made him take a day off. they ended up taking a long weekend to recover. on the occasion they're both melting down at the same time, it's a multiple days affair. wilson will recognize what's happening and try to make sure everything in the apartment is low effort and accessible from the floor because house's meltdowns are more often than not pain response and that means that house stays on the floor. and when wilson is melting /neg he doesn't want to leave house. on a sillier(?) note they have a tally/competition for shortest meltdown (wilson), longest meltdown (house), fastest to meltdown (house), longest amount of time spent holding off a meltdown (house), most efficient meltdown (wilson), and most meltdowns located in the hospital (wilson).

man i'm gonna have to make a fic for this, it's getting wild just on posts

[my-mt-heart]

I want to address a few things that Norman said in Le Parisien. The article isn't free, and I'm not going to encourage anyone to pay for something they might not like, but if you do want the link, DM me and I'll send it. Thank you to the person who read and translated this:

Defending himself against others trying to throw him under the bus is one thing, but denying all responsibility for the title accomplishes absolutely nothing except further insulting a significant portion of Daryl's fanbase. These fans, specifically Carylers, were all paying close attention when he said the exact opposite on Jimmy Kimmel. Watch at 8:45:

The video is from late last year. Melissa's negotiations for S2/S3 started last summer and her deal closed at the end of the year per my sources, which means there was (at least) a loose plan to bring her back before S1 started shooting. Norman confirms Pilgrim was a working title at some point, but he doesn’t mention Raise the Dead, which was more than likely planned as the official title of the show while they were shooting between October '22 and February '23.

I bring up the timeline because even if you believe Melissa was always part of the French spinoff, Norman’s other favorite narrative right now, the implication is still this: Norman, AMC, and the other EPs were fully aware that Melissa was coming back when they officially landed on a title excluding her. You could argue Daryl has the most name recognition from being the most marketed character or that his tags on SM have 6 billion views or, hey, let’s make it 6 trillion (how much of that overlaps with Daryl and Carol content btw?), but as we saw, that doesn’t guarantee all those viewers will watch the show, which is how AMC makes money. If there are two leads on the show, naming it after one lead doesn't make any sense from a marketing perspective because AMC is missing out on attracting more audience, promoting two characters and their chemistry instead of just one character.

So. They either manipulated the situation to give Norman and the other EPs what they wanted or, once again, they dismissed Melissa’s/Carol’s vitality to the show. Or both. Regardless, it poses a big problem for me, because Carol's ability to stand her ground against anyone who thinks less of her is what draws me to her character. I can't reconcile that with the obvious tactics Norman and the other EPs use to claim the show for themselves, completely ignoring fans who may be critical, yes, but ultimately just want the story both Daryl and Carol have earned.

Speaking of being ignored, I heard from multiple fans that AMC did in fact send out a survey regarding the title. I can't confirm because I haven't seen the survey myself, but if you're doing market research, you need a target audience, and if you're doing market research on what you know will (eventually) be a Daryl and Carol show, you should probably target Daryl and Carol fans, shippers or otherwise. Not that it's the most appropriate way to choose a title (not even close), but where's my survey? Did any Carylers get to participate? Did anyone bother to check? Because to me, it sounds like the focus group they used for their market research wasn't aimed at their target audience at all. It's possible they did the market research with a sample audience of the flagship show or just Daryl fans who are a percentage of their audience but not all their audience. If they used an audience that incorporated Carylers, Daryl fans and GA — the feedback for that title would've been mixed. If they focused their market research on mostly Carylers, the feedback would've heavily leaned towards having an inclusive title.

So many fans, not just Carylers, hate the title. It's boring, it's offensive, it's pretentious, it's misogynistic, etc. etc. These are fans who want to watch and enjoy the show, who are expected to pay for it, so why don't their opinions carry more weight? Why is there still such a strong disconnect between AMC and Carol/Caryl fans when that's exactly what caused the backlash last year? Why are they not doing everything they can to avoid the same mistakes?

As for this:

Most of it is true except for one important detail. Angela Kang's spinoff was going to be a road show shot and set in the U.S. That's the phone call Norman is alluding to. That's the spinoff Melissa signed on for. To say otherwise makes her look unprofessional and flaky for "dropping out" knowing all along she'd have to relocate, and that's not what happened at all. It's like there's no consideration for his co-workers' images while he's trying to rebuild his own, and that is unprofessional.

To be very clear, this is not meant to be a smear campaign. My intention here is to point out how deceptive the PR/marketing strategies have been and how they're hurting everyone, including Norman. I can't for the life of me see any business sense in repeatedly gaslighting and alienating a profitable fanbase, treating Daryl and Carol fans like they're stupid, or insinuating a Daryl and Carol show can't belong to Daryl and Carol fans. The more Norman talks about the spinoff's inception, the more it ensures people will never trust a single thing that comes out of his mouth ever again, and that sucks because if he just focused on what the audience wants, insisting that Melissa is his equal on the show, talking about the characters in meaningful ways, supporting Daryl's and Carol's relationship, he could sell it easily. Fans should be getting excited for their story, not reliving last year's trauma over and over and over again. Melissa is back and that's exciting, but story still matters. Both on and off screen (precisely why we need someone else on board who can manage all of that really well). I've asked this several times before. I'll keep asking until someone listens. Can we please move the fuck on from the spinoff fiasco?

And change the title.

[melrosing]

btw love your Jaime takes! Was wondering what your thoughts on his dream of Rhaegar with Brienne? i personally find it fascinating and super important for his development.. his family meaning Cersei and Tywin are toxic influences he must leave behind so that he can grow as his own person while Brienne clearly plays a role in this. I also find it sad to see his regret and guilt about the death of Rhaegars family. Can’t help but wonder what the glowing swords mean? Do you think he has a role to play in the long night? I feel like he might but there’s also the valonqar prophecy to consider?

a jaime question we are back in business!!!

I have a lot of thoughts on Jaime's weirwood dream and maybe more than I can contain within one ask but here's my rough breakdown:

section one where Jaime finds Cersei, Tywin & assorted Lannisters I think quite straightforwardly these are the people that Jaime once thought defined who he was: his father, his sister, and the name they all share. but he finds himself quickly abandoned by both Tywin and Cersei who offer him no comfort, and leave him Naked and AfraidTM with no Lannister strength or support. He's effectively just one man in the dark and all that he had left to give his life and identity meaning is gone

section two where Brienne shows up Jaime finds meaning in Brienne!! when he'd lost all strength, hope and dignity, Brienne practically raised him from the dead by demonstrating all he could be and recalling what he had once wanted to be - he finds both his past and future self in Brienne. we also see a supportive and reciprocal relationship between them that was absent with the Lannisters - Jaime frees Brienne from chains, Brienne helps Jaime through the dark. and the dark is gone now: there's new clarity and hope since Brienne has arrived. and obviously we see Jaime's developing feelings for her through 'she could almost be a beauty/she could almost be a knight/it seemed to Jaime she had more of a woman's shape now' - like he's seeing her for the first time again since his 'rebirth' in Harrenhal, and is starting to put together new feelings without quite understanding what they are yet.

section three: Rhaegar and the lads firstly: think it's interesting that Jaime first mistakes Rhaegar in the distance for Ned. we'll come back to that.

but anyway I think the conversation with Rhaegar and the OG kingsguard is Jaime perhaps fully acknowledging for the first time how much that ~fateful day~ in King's Landing truly pains and guilts him - it's not something he can laugh off. we've only up till then seen him confidently state that killing Aerys was the best thing he ever did, and since hearing his side of the story the audience now agrees -but the KG's words show that Jaime still has a confused sense of guilt over it, and has not forgotten Rhaegar's kids either. he still cares about doing the right thing, and feels crushed by the idea that when he was given the chance to do it, perhaps he chose wrong.

I also think it's v interesting that Rhaegar's kids are prominent here, especially considering the earlier appearance of Ned which I think is interesting twofold. first, I think Jaime thought Ned had no right to judge him but that the KG do. second, I think that Ned's children are the new Rhaegar's children. granted Jaime has done a pretty fucking appalling job of 'protecting Ned's children' so far (like he almost couldn't have done worse lmao) BUT they are now what I think will take Rhaenys and Aegon's place in his mind. perhaps he can do right if he can save at least one of those kids. this right now is his second chance.

what do the glowing swords mean all sorts i reckon. hope. honour. legacy. life. I think Jaime's sword guttering out at the end of the dream isn't a foreshadowing of his losing his life at any particular time in the future, but rather the sign that right now, he has nothing to keep that flame alight - Rhaegar and co condemn him to darkness as they tell him he's done nothing to earn the light, and Jaime, in his panic, wakes up. and knows what he has to do to reignite it - hence rushing back to Brienne.

I don't think the valonqar prophecy comes into it because this was something that GRRM added at the VERY end of writing AFFC so it wouldn't factor into the weirwood dream in ASOS. I don't know that the dream suggests much about the long night either though I do think he'll have some kind of role??? depends what the TLN ultimately looks like but I am sure that GRRM means to reassemble the majority of the main POVs there and Jaime will surely be one of them, as will Bri.

[p-redux]

I'm finally home from work. Let's dive into ALL the C.M. info I've been holding back on...

As promised, more on C.M. Soooo, Chloé, if you ever find my blog, please know that I'm not the one that posted your name--it was a known Sam Heughan hater blog. But now that SHE posted your full name publicly, I'll just clear up some things for people. I come in peace and fully support Sam Heughan and any woman he dates. As long as he's happy, that's all that matters. For those who have been waiting patiently for the C.M. info and the dots that connected her to Sam, here you go...

So, a few weeks back, I got this Anon below, stating that they had seen Sam and Chloé Montana at a hotel restaurant in Paris. It's a very popular restaurant and people go there to eat, even if they aren't staying at the hotel. Anyway, I wasn't sure the Anon was legit, but I requested to follow Chloé so I could see if anything connected her to Sam. (BTW, her account has always been private).

👇

Then, I got more info, and a different Anon, saying they'd also seen Sam in Paris with an "exotic looking blonde." Chloé definitely qualifies as an exotic looking blonde, in my opinion.👇 These were around the time Sam was filming The Couple Next Door in Belgium, so he definitely could have made a quick trip for a romantic rendezvous in Paris.

This is her on her public IMDB account. 👇 Her full name is Chloé Montana Rash, but she goes by Chloé Montana. She's from Toronto, Canada originally, but has lived in Los Angeles, New York, London, Paris. She travels a lot all over.

This is her Instagram account, which, like I said, has always been private. I wish she would change this pic, she's way prettier than this. She posted it because heavy make up was done on her for a photoshoot, and I guess she thought it was cool. She is actually one of those rare women who look better without any make-up. 👇

This is her public professional Linkedin Account 👇As you can see, not only is she beautiful, but she's also very intelligent. You don't graduate Magna Cum Laude if you're stupid...you just don't. And from what I've seen on her IG posts, she also has a great sense of humor. She's cheeky and irreverent, more like a Brit, dare I say it, a Scot, than the stereotypical polite Canadian. The girl's funny.

Soooo, what links her to Sam besides the Anon pointing her out by name? Well, I kept watching her IG account, especially her stories. She doesn't always post in real time, and she does do regrams and later grams. BUT right when Sam showed up in Miami for his birthday, Chloé also posted from there. Sam was seen out with guy friends in Miami, but he later said in an interview that the guys had surprised him in Miami. So, my thinking is Chloé and Sam met in Miami for his birthday, and his dumbass friends "surprised him" so she called up her female friend, who lives in Miami, and hung out with her while Sam had dinner with his guy friends. Then Sam and Chloé met up later. Obviously this means they're just dating casually, and aren't exclusive.

Right after Miami, Sam was scheduled to go to New York to do promo for Love Again. Guess who also posted she was in New York after being in Miami? Yep, Ms. Chloé Coinky dink, after coinky dink, right? 👇

She ALSO posted these IG stories during the time she was in Miami and New York. Sam's an actor. She's a Virgo and Sam's a Taurus. 👇More things that make you go "hmm."

But so far, there was nothing indicating Sam and Chloé even knew each other, other than the Anon saying she saw them together at a romantic dinner together kissing. They don't mutually follow on social media. But, as we now know, this is the same thing that happened when Sam dated Anna Modler and Monika Clarke. He didn't mutually follow with them either. This seems to be his new dating M.O., so as to not tip off fans that he's dating someone.

Soooo, does anything directly link Sam and Chloé? Yep! Looky, WHO has liked some of Sam's IG pics! Now why would she be liking his IG pics when she's not even following him? She has to purposely go to his account to do so. If they weren't dating and she thought he was hot, she would simply follow him, and like his pics like the thousands of other women, including celebs, who do. But, nope. So, there you have it---she for sure has been liking his pics, but not following him. 👇

I didn't search far back enough maybe, I'm tired, but it seems the FIRST time she liked his pic was was 15 weeks ago. So, she's definitely new in his life. They've both mentioned being on Raya, the exclusive celeb dating app, so my bet is that is where they first connected.

C'est tout, mes chéries. I see people following her already with VERRA obvious Outlander related accounts I'm looking at you, grandma Jojo aka Randi. 😏 Please make your accounts private. But, I guess this is the point where I just give up, and throw in the towel. Que será, será. Let's hope Chloé is made of steel.

As always, and tongue-in-cheek, with nothing but good intentions, what should their celebrity couple name be? Samhloe? ChloSam? Heughtana? Let me know in the comments. 🤗

[mcytshippystuff]

Can I ask how you view Brunim and Forever's relationship since you mentioned it in your last post? You said you viewed it as toxic on both ends and that it messed Forever up, can you go into more detail?

(as always, /rp, not irl) Also go here for more hcs on q!Forever's relationships this ask is referencing!

Okay so!! Like I said before in that posts tags, I dont know a WHOLE lot about the canon relationship between q!Forever and... c!Brunim? q!Brunim? Whatever, I dont know the canon but from what iv seen, in rp its very much not healthy. So I ended up building my own hcs for them and idk how accurate they are canon wise but I still like em regardless so im sticking to em lol!

(Tw for talks of abuse, toxic relationships, and unhealthy relationships!)

So first thing to note; These guys were really fucked up, toxic, and probs abusive in several places. They started out softer, kinder, safer, but it did not stay that way. Still, know that they loved each other regardless.

In my head, Brunim was very much the aggressor, and the one who started being toxic, abusive, and obsessive about Forever, and was worse about it. Forever ended up becoming toxic and doing toxic/shitty/obsessive things in turn as a by product. I wont say Brunim was the only one who had issues and did bad things but Forever only ended up becoming like that becuase Brunim taught him that's how he showed love in their relationship, so he showed it that way back ya know?

But thing is they stopped being happy, stopped awhile ago in fact and realized they couldn't keep doing this to each other, hurting each other, for both their sakes. Its hard to recognize you are doing something wrong, and it was even harder to let go, for real this final time, and only through help did they manage it but they did.

But the thing is, Brunim was Forever's first real relationship, and it had messed him up. Untangling yourself from that sort of thing is fucking hard, knowing where the line is or where something is toxic and unhealthy romantic wise (or even in general) is even harder when its pretty much your only real frame of reference and unlearning all that shit is hard and takes time too.

So when Forever got to the island, while he's made leaps and bounds from where he use to be, enough he can mess around and even joke with someone who reminds him of Brunim without actually having issues with it (at least at first lol), is still in the process of trying to unlearn his more unhealthy behaviors and expectations.

That's where some of his more concerning phrases or claims come from, either not knowing the line as he crosses it due to skewed misconceptions, saying it jokingly becuase he'd never actually go through with it (though probs shouldn't of said it regardless but hey that's coping with trauma for ya), or knowing the line but crossing it anyways on impulse and having to pull back becuase he doesn't mean it/regrets it. He would never on purpose dip back into those toxic behaviors but like I said, still unlearning and understanding those.

Forever would never actually go through with anything toxic, abusive, or unhealthy for the most part on purpose btw, if that wasn't clear.

There is a little bit, like mentioned in the main post, where when he does start to catch feelings it is becuase of him confusing Brunim with Phil, but Forever does beginning to actually fall for him and it takes a bit to fully separate them, and his expectations of it all. But hell he cant stop loving Phil even if he does eventually see Phil will not change his mind about Forever loving him.

But anyhoo enough about the main thing, smaller but still important stuff-

Like I said Brunim was Forever's first real relationship, and they did actually love each other under all the shit it became. Didn't mean any of what happened was okay tho.

Brunim is a vampire, and fed off regularly of Forever. He didn't have issues with it at first but quickly became painful and a bad time.

(tw for scars and a bit of gore) Forever actually has a horrific scar on his neck from the feedings, though its hard to tell if it becuase Brunim would very slightly shift around where he would bite in to feed over time so it became a mass of scar tissue, or if he ripped out a chunk of Forever's flesh for whatever reason. Forever usually keeps it covered but it burns sometimes.

Brunim's way of punishing Forever was usually to lock him up until he behaved again, specially if they were on "break" and Brunim wanted Forever back. Hence why Forever uttered "lock you up until love me." He wasn't serious about it but later feels sick he said it even jokingly.

Forever is surprisingly mentally stable despite all this and has worked hard on his mental health, thanks to therapy. Most of his issues, like I said, come from trying to unlearn all that toxic shit and unhealthy behaviors.

They really miss each other but tbh its more they miss what they had before, as well as the comfort in the not being alone despite the pain. Regardless Forever will never go back to Brunim, even if they both change for the better.

[envy-of-the-apple]

How would yandere Deku react to the reader playing a gold flute that's unbreakable because of magic that was gifted to her by someone from another dimension who has feelings for her? It’s like the music from the flute can connect with reader and her friend, there’s a special connection between them

i kinda mixed this with a fantasy setting idea?? Could be seen as either romantic obbsession or platonic. I kinda’ left that up to you. gn reader btw~

shaky writing because i was trying to sound all wise and philisophical and i forgot i was a smut writer

(Fantasy AU! Yandere, obsession, destruction of property idk there’s so few warnings on this one(?))

Playing God  

Yandere! Izuku Midoriya x reader

When you first meet Izuku Midoriya, you’re a bit surprised that this was the hero the Gods chose. He resembles nothing close to what the prophecy foretold. He’s merely a child, barely hovering about the age of fourteen, trembling in the dirt of your forest, marks and scratches all over his body. 

For a moment, you think to leave him. Eventually the elders of the village will come to look for him. There’s no need for you to meddle with the human’s affairs, especially ones concerning a hero. They did say those who intervened with the destiny of a prodigy often suffered dearly. 

It’s the frailness of his body that makes you break, how tiny he looks among the grass. How pitiful. 

A warm meal wouldn’t count as meddling, right? 

“Are you lost?” You ask. 

The boy stiffens, he looks up wildly, before finally focusing his eyes on you. They were bright. Green like the forest. He blended in quite nicely. 

He doesn’t answer the first time. 

“I asked if you were lost.” 

He hesitates, “...A little.” He finally admits. 

You laugh, it’s quick, barely a huff, finally deciding to extend your hand towards him. 

“Come. Let’s get you out of the dirt.” 

As his hand reaches up to grasp your own, you decide that he doesn’t have the hand of a hero’s. 

Despite his tiny stature, Izuku eats a lot. 

Two bowls have already been downed, and he’s midway through his third. Briefly, you wonder if you even have enough food to fill this boy up. 

He seems to suddenly remember himself, stopping himself from devouring the bowl completely, delicately setting it down. 

“Thank you for the food,” He says shyly, a blush blooms on freckled cheeks. 

You only hum, “Eat as much as you want. You need that energy.” 

He nods at your reply, going back to his meal, before pausing again. 

 “I’m...I’m sorry for barging into your home like this,” He says, guiltily looking away. He glances at the hall of your temple. 

“I promise I’ll leave as soon as I can...” 

You tilt you head, “What were you doing so deep in the forest anyway? Not even the woodsmen come this far.” 

“I was exploring,” Izuku replies honestly, “But the woods got so dark and I didn’t know where I was going and...” 

“Hm,” You say, “Exploring? Alone? That’s not very wise.” 

He’s helpless to do nothing but nod. 

“I know...” 

“Well, as long as you realize your mistake,” You sigh, stretching out your arms, “Be sure not to repeat this dangerous adventure again. Understood?” 

He blinks. He seems confused. 

“You...you aren’t upset I entered your forest?” He asks hesitantly. 

“The forest isn’t mine. I’m in no position to demand those things,” You reply, “I’m just glad you’re unharmed.” 

He seems to still be unsure. In response, you push his unfinished bowl closer to him.

“That being said,” You hope your smile doesn’t look like a grimace, “I might not be so forgiving if you waste your food.” 

His doubt seems to vanish instantly. Immediately, Izuku goes back to eating, scarfing it down with renewed vigor. 

When the sky begins to show signs of purple, you shoo him in the direction of his village. He keeps waving back until his figure fully disappears into the leaves. When he’s gone, you sigh, massaging your temples. There’s no moon in the sky tonight. A child is harmless, but it could have been worse. 

Maybe you should erect a barrier to keep pesky humans out. 

-

After centuries of practice, the art of the woodwind instrument has finally been mastered. 

The forest is quiet, thrumming with silent vigor. You can feel the spirits in the trees, the streams, the dirt, all await for your tune. As always, you sit on the floor of your temple, hands steady on your flute. You play something soft, melodious. The song blooms through your halls, spreading across the trees. Your eyes are closed, listening to the notes in a quiet tandem. 

“Wow, you’re really good.” 

You scream. The golden flute drops to the floor, sending a loud clatter as it rolls away. Recovering quickly, you immediately grab the instrument, before sending a seething look at the intruder. 

At least he had the conscious to look remorseful. 

“Sorry,” Izuku says hesitantly, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“It’s fine,” You say too quickly. 

You take a deep breath, trying to sound a little more patient. You still can’t keep the frustration in your voice, still too flustered at how easily you were startled by a mortal.

 “Why are you here anyways?” 

He looks away, “I...was doing some exploring...again.” He says shyly. 

When you give him a look, he’s quick to respond. 

“Safely! This time.” 

You swallow your annoyance, “Wonderful. I’m a little busy at the moment. If you’ll excuse me.” 

You get up, brushing down your kurta. Izuku is quick to follow, scrambling to walk beside you. 

“What-what are you busy with?” He squeaks, “I could maybe help you?” 

“Gardening,” You say stiffly, “It’s mainly heavy-lifting work. I’m not sure a child could help me.” 

Why was he here? How had he even found you? Hadn’t he learned his lesson last time he got lost? You wondered if the dryads had helped this kid out. Annoying you was something of a pastime for them. 

“I can help! I’m pretty strong. And-and I could...” He trails off when you sigh. 

You come to a stop. 

 “Child, don’t you think it’s a little reckless to be wandering the forest again? Why don’t you go play with your friends in the village?” 

His face falls and you wonder if you said the wrong thing. When he glances down to stare at the dirt, you know you’ve said the wrong thing. 

“Who know who I am, right?” He mumbles, kicking at the dirt, “You already knew my name.” 

You don’t respond. He already knows your answer. 

“The kids in the village don’t really like me...” He quietly says, “They say the Gods wasted their gifts on me...that I don’t really deserve it.” 

He looks at the trees. You follow his gaze, hoping to catch what he sees. 

“The elders also say think same thing. They never say it...but...I can tell.” 

You can almost imagine it, a boy with green hair being ostracized by children, each which jealousy, annoyance, that this was the hero the Gods chose. Adults clambering together, whispering their distaste in hushed rumors. 

“Do you believe them?” You ask. 

He looks at you, confused. 

“They said you were a failure. Before you could even start. Do you believe them?” 

He doesn’t hesitate, this time. 

“I don’t.” 

You laugh at that. The confidence a kid like him has. You admire it, honestly. 

Heroes are rare, an abnormality. Despite all the years you’ve lived you’ve only met a few. You’ve never seen a hero grow, get stronger, flourish with the gift of the Gods. 

“Do you believe them?” Izuku asks. 

This could be an opportunity.

You tilt your head. “Which Gods have visited you so far?” 

He only has one gift so far. Strength, from the sun. You hum in acknowledgment, before calling out to the forest. You ask for ore from the caves, wood from the trees. 

You ask for indirect heat, from the moon. 

The sword is too heavy for Izuku. He bends a bit, struggling to support the weight.

Still, he doesn’t let it drop. You smile at that. 

“We’ll see.” 

Watching over a hero might give some entertainment in your mundane life. 

Izuku visited consistently. His favorite time was in the evening, just when you were about to play your tune. You don’t mind. He’s diligent. A hard worker. You supposed it’s because no ones bothered to try with the little hero. He’s grateful for it. 

You just wish he’d be a bit more efficient. 

“It’s been hours, let’s just stop here, for now.” You say, coming to stand beside him. 

He’s barely sitting, almost lying in the grass, exhausted. The hero groans in what sounds like acknowledgment. Slowly, he tries to lift himself up, staggering. 

You sigh, “Take a break. Gain back your strength.” 

He collapses back to the floor, and the sword sinks into the grass. Curious, you step towards his work, the job you’d given him for today. 

As you expected, it wasn’t a lot. The dead stump you instructed him to cut down barely had a scratch on it, a shallow line where his sword had mashed through. Could be his age, or his overall power, but Izuku was weak, despite the gift the Sun had given him. 

“No,” You tell him sternly when he tries to wobble to his feet, “Just sit for now.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but he wordlessly complies. You were glad you had to stop him from pushing himself, instead of the other way around. Tenacity was honestly the only thing he had going for him at this point.

“Thank you,” Izuku politely takes the cup you offered him, drinking the contents down in one swing.

You stand next to him, waiting for him to finish.

He couldn’t access his gift, he told you when you berated him one evening. He knows it’s there, deep within him, but he can’t reach it. Theoretically, cutting down a stump should be child’s play with his gift. You were pretty sure it was because he lacked any initial power. In order to start a fire, one needed a flame. Izuku didn’t even have a spark. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” He says when he finally catches his breath, “I can still feel it. It’s still there, but I can’t use it. Am I still not strong enough?” 

You give him a look over. It’s only been a few weeks but he’s already gained a bit of muscle. Not by a lot, but he didn’t look like he’d fall over by a gust of wind at any second. 

It should be more than enough, right? 

Maybe you were looking at it the wrong way? You bite your lip, studying him. He’s strong, plenty strong, but maybe it isn’t just physical strength that’s stopping him?

“I think the issue is that you aren’t picturing it,” You finally say. 

“Picturing it...?” 

You nod. “Gifts mainly are channeled through your body, but you need to guide it. I’d suggest temporarily setting a goal, before you fully harness your gift.” 

You expect him to jump up, eager to try your strategy out. Instead, Izuku uncharacteristically remains seated on the floor. 

“Something wrong?” You ask. 

He shakes his head. 

“No, it’s just: you’re always helping me,” He says, “I wish I could do something to repay you.” 

You feel a little guilty when he says that. You still don’t have the heart to admit you’re doing this for your own entertainment. 

He gives a frustrated huff. 

“But I’m not really sure what a human like me could give a God.” 

Now, that gets a laugh out of you. Izuku’s face falls to confusion as you almost fall to the floor in hysterics. 

“Sorry,” You huff, out of breath, “Do you...do you think I’m a God?” 

He hesitates, “You...you aren’t?” 

“No,” You’re still grinning, “Not even close.” 

“But the-the temple,” He flounders, “Your-your powers?” 

You shake your head. 

“I was simply gifted by the Gods, same as you.”

His eyes widen, “Are you a Hero too?” 

“Not quite,” You hum, “I think once, a long time ago, I was a human. A normal human. But I did something that a God rather appreciated. They gave me my gift.” You whirl the flute in your hands. Izuku stares at it, transfixed. 

“What happened?” He suddenly asks. 

You glance at him, he’s backpedaling, trying to squish words in a sentence. 

“Why did the God give you your gift?” 

Your smile falls.

 “...I don’t remember.” 

Izuku sits back, something somber on his face. A wince of anger.

“You...don’t?” You shake your head. 

“It happened centuries in the past. It’s...trivial to recall things that happened so long ago.” 

Izuku sits, letting what you said fill the silence. He doesn’t move until you’re scowling, telling him to get to work. He’s quick to comply. 

Your theory is proven correct when Izuku closes his eyes, focusing on his gift. When he swings, the brunt of the sun comes with it, shattering the stump completely. It’s shaky, uncontrolled, but he did it. 

When you ask what he was thinking about, he cheekily tells you its a secret. 

There’s a festival in the village that evening. Timidly Izuku asks if you will attend. His face falls when you shake your head. He’s suddenly wondering why you haven’t left the forest in all the years you’ve been alive. 

“That’s the price of immortality,” You hum. 

“Imprisonment.” 

_

Izuku is sixteen when news of him reaches the kingdom. 

Imperial knights are sent to his village immediately. Within weeks nobles and merchants swarm his tiny town, endlessly gifting him with gold, jewelry, expensive clothing he’s never seen before. 

Even the current crown prince of this era came to greet him. 

“His highness says there’s a school in the palace, a place where people can train with their gifts,” Izuku says, swinging his knees on the roof.

You idly stand beside him, onlooking the view of the forest. It was so pretty like this, the time just before nightfall came. The temple is washed in duller colors as the sun disappears beneath the skyline. You can see the moon creeping up to take its place. 

Usually, he’s dressed so modestly, simple clothes, scuffed pants. Today, he sits in your temple wearing an expensive shirt, material you’ve never even seen before. He looks healthier. Fuller. He gave you a fruit you had no name for. It tasted sweet on your tongue. 

“Exciting,” You state, indulging him, “When are you planning on departing?” 

He frowns. 

“In a few days,” He says. 

His tone is off. You tilt your head. 

“Are you not excited?” You ask, “This is the chance you were waiting for, correct? After all, there’s so little training you can do in a forest.” 

“I am,” He returns, too quickly, as if he’s trying to convince himself more than you. 

He isn’t looking at you, rather, he’s avoiding looking at you completely. Bright green eyes stare into the horizon, dimmed by the setting sun. 

“Then?” 

“You won’t come with me,” He phrases it as a statement. A certainty. 

“I won’t,” You agree, “Why are you so worried with my presence?” 

“I just-” He doesn’t respond, trying to figure out the correct words. He takes a minute. Then another. 

“I wish you could.” He gives a glance at your flute. You can’t make out his expression. “But you can’t.” 

You hum. 

“Have you ever wanted to leave this place?” Izuku asks. 

That question has never crossed your mind before. You peer into the forest, alongside him. You can see treetops, hills, valleys. It’s all yours. 

But have you ever wanted more than that? 

How have the humans developed? How has the world changed? The fruits Izuku brought, the clothes he wore, you wanted to see the place they came from. 

“I think It’d be nice if I could,” You reply honestly. 

This gift was a curse, as well as a blessing. But you were happy with that. Content. The world will change around you, evolve, possibly leave you behind. But you’re fine in your little world filled with green. 

You know Izuku doesn’t see it that way. No mortal would, not with their finite days. 

“You never told me,” Izuku says. 

“Told you what?” 

“Which God gifted you.” 

You smile, “Why does it matter?” 

He frowns, “Is that you saying you won’t tell me?” 

“Not quite,” You honestly state, “I’ve given you some hints, I believe.” 

“Isn’t it more fun to figure it out yourself?” 

He doesn’t respond, not to your last statement, at the very least. 

“I’m not strong enough to help you, yet.” He whispers, turning to look at you. 

“But I will be, one day.” 

You smile at him. But, for some reason, his words feel like a warning.

The next day, Izuku heads into the kingdom.

You don’t see him off. You know he understands. 

It’s not like you could. 

_

You lied to him. 

You remember how you got your gift. Just pieces, shatters of a complete memory. Sometimes you try piecing them together, trying to create a concrete storyline. Something always feels wrong, uncomplete. 

You always give up. 

In the end, it was pointless to try to explain remnants of a memory to a boy who can hardly fathom your passage of time. 

Tonight, once again, the moon doesn’t join you. 

_

To you, 11 years is only a moment. 

To Izuku, it’s more than a decade. 

He’s bigger now. Earlier, he was shorter than you, thinner. Now, he feels larger than most trees, towering over you. Untamed green hair is shorter now, and those giant emerald irises have matured. 

The only thing you recognize is the smile. Soft, hesitant. Nervous.

As if he’s unsure if you even want to see him. 

He timidly waits by the entrance of your temple, patiently waiting for you to acknowledge him. It’s a little comical, with how big he is, yet his posture remained the same. Polite, to the end. 

You wait for a minute, then two. 

Finally, you sigh. 

“Come here, Izuku,” 

He’s huge, practically dwarfing you. He has to bend over a little, hunch, in order to wrap his arms around your smaller body. But you’re just as warm, just as welcoming. 

You pat his broad back, and you can feel him relax into your hold. 

“Welcome home.” 

~ 

“You can only stay for a few days?” You cock your head, disappointed. 

He’s nodding, just as remorseful. 

“I already visited the village,” He’s sighing, leaning back, “So much has changed.” 

You laugh, “I can imagine. Tell me, what was it like?” 

Izuku tells you stories. Stories of his travels. Stories of the adventures he’s had. Stories of the long harsh battles. Stories of finally slaying the nightmare that had plagued this world for decades. Stories of being a hero. 

You wonder if he feels guilt, guilt that you weren’t there to watch him. You can’t blame him. That’s how he is. He needs to be everyone’s savior. You often wondered if that was just his personality, or the traits of every hero. 

You like to think that it was just Izuku’s. 

He’s smiling when he finishes his tales. The sun is setting in the sky. You won’t let him stay the night. 

He’s matured between his younger years. There’s no disappointment on his freckled features. He nods, with a smile. 

“You can only stay for a few days,” You say, tilting your head. 

“I’m offended you aren’t more saddened about leaving.” 

He jerks, stumbling over apologies and you laugh. 

“No it’s just, I have a feeling.” He smiles knowingly, a light blush over his tanned faced. 

You prod, “Feeling?” 

He nods, “I won’t be leaving you.” 

You don’t know what he means by that. It sounds metaphorical, because he must know you’ll never leave this forest. You’ll live forever, while he, the great hero, withers away with mortality. Another will take his place. 

Still, his last words feel strangely cryptic. You force yourself not to linger on it. 

~

Something was wrong. 

You woke up. The forest was screaming. You could hear the horrid cries of the trees, the saplings. 

They were screaming for you. 

You’re stumbling through the halls of your temple. It’s night, but the moon isn’t out, not this time. There’s no one to see you. To hear you. You feel alone. 

But you aren’t. 

Izuku is right there, in the edge of your temple. You want to feel relief, but you can’t, not when the thing he’s holding in his arms is too familiar to you. Something he shouldn’t even be touching. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’ve figured it out,” Izuku is smiling, spinning your flute in his hands. He’s too reckless, and you have a feeling he won’t listen to you if you tell him to be careful. 

It strangely feels like it’s the intention. 

“Figured what out?” You cautiously ask. Izuku doesn’t feel like the companion you trained all those years ago. He feels more than that. Bigger. 

It scares you. 

“It was the Lunar God. The one who gifted you.” Izuku says, his eyes trail up to the sky. There’s nothing. Nothing nothing nothing. 

“You never let me visit on days there’s no moon. You don’t have power on those days,” He looks down at the flute, “Neither does this.” 

“Izuku,” You feel like you’re begging but you don’t know why, “Izuku what are you doing?” 

His eyes are softer, like he believes his own words, rather than your tearful ones. You suddenly realize the forest wasn’t crying for you to come and save it.

It was crying for you to run and save yourself. 

“Don’t you get it?” He says, “I’m saving you.” 

There’s a crack. And you don’t have the courage to keep staring as he drops the instrument to the floor. There’s two distinct clatters, and you know it’s over. 

You can feel it. All of it, lifting from your skin. Your tether to the moon is disappearing. Your power is returning to someone who once gave it to you with a smile. The voices of the forest are growing weaker and weaker and weaker. 

Then you stop hearing it entirely. 

You sink to the floor, no longer someone with a god’s gift, just you. 

Just Izuku’s. 

He’s quick to retrieve his prize, following you to the floor of a temple that you once owned. His hands rub your back in a soothing gesture that lacks the intent, just the greed. 

“You’ll be okay,” He’s murmuring, “I’ll take care of you now.” 

He’s humming, just barely over your hushed sobs. 

“All you ever need, is me.” 

Izuku draws you into a hug, and you suddenly feel very foolish. 

Despite all the years you’ve lived, you were simply a mere human. 

Who were you, to play God?

[garthofshayeris]

How can all of Garth’s personality, relationships, and history became irrelevant to the current comics runs? What happened?

Great question! After Flashpoint happened, the Dc Universe reset. For a lot of comics, there were no major character or lore changes. However, the Aquaman comics got a major overhaul.

It’s important to note that Aquaman lore has changed over the years, but the changes were either slow or the kept much of the same characterization, but updated certain aspects. For example, although Death of a Prince takes place in the Bronze Age of comics, it was playing off dynamics already established in the Silver Age, and the story was tweaked slightly when the post-crisis reboot happened, so the events were still relevant in Volumes 4-6 (80s-early 2000s). The lore expanded to say, these major elements are still here! We have changed some things, and here they are! And this is how it effected what you might be familiar with, etc.

Then comes the New52. In order to make the comics easier for newcomers to read, about 90% of the characters and Atlantean history were removed completely from canon. This includes Garth, who was the longest-running humanoid supporting character!! (Topo the octopus is the longest-running returning character, and for the record they also got rid of him)

They re-did Arthur’s backstory (adapted to something similar to his Silver Age origins) and some characters, like Orm, were completely re-done as well to fit the new lore. They did not do this for Garth; in fact, every major element of his character that tied him to the story was removed. His kingdom I mentioned in that last ask? Gone. Atlan, the wizard who trained him? Gone (although they do re-use that name, the New52 character named Atlan is not Atlan from previous stories). The rumor about purple eyes? Actually not gone, but they did completely change what it meant and when we meet an entire community of purple-eyed Atlanteans, Garth is not among them. (Purple eyes have been an element to his character since his introduction, btw)

“But comicvine says Garth appeared in the New52!” I hear you cry. Technically true. But here’s a fun fact: they “teased” his return on the last page of one comics, and his design was so off from all previous versions that the fans did not know who he was supposed to be. Why? He was wearing a color Garth was never seen in, sporting a strange tattoo on the wrong side of his face (those lines aren’t a tattoo in pre-flashpoint btw…it’s a scar, that Atlan gave him) and because Garth had always, always, always been the child that Arthur adopted…the fact that he showed up as a fully formed adult with no connection to Arthur was so strange that even the Aquafans did not make the connection!!

This character, a mercenary who never spoke to Arthur, appeared a few more times before being quietly re-set in Rebirth.

Now, let’s recall that the comics removed all aspects of this character’s connection to the story, including the very fact that he was essentially Arthur’s adopted child. This is STILL TRUE in Rebirth. I cannot think of a time that Garth spoke directly to Arthur in any of the comics, but Mera said once that Arthur basically paid for Garth to go to Magic Underwater Wizard College, which is something that exists for some reason. Also he dropped out of Magic Underwater Wizard College because his girlfriend died, but we don’t know that woman’s name and he has literally never brought it up outside that single comics.

I want to say, I am not against changing backstories. Garth has had two and a half backstories since the 60s! But they grow and expand to fit the new world they live in. The writers took time and energy, they poured their hearts into making this new character appeal to their brave new world. But DC has not given Garth that same grace these past 15ish years. They had so, so many chances as well! They could have rewritten him in a way that was satisfying to his old fans. But they do not give a shit about Garth.

You see. DC wants to trick you. They want to say “everything is canon now” and not have to put in any effort. except my dears, the Aquaman comics are so complicated that they cannot exist at the same time. Because sure, maybe we can say Garth is no longer royal, because that kingdom his parents ruled no longer exists. But without that bloodline, why is he the most powerful Atlantean sorcerer? Did he never complete a highly emotional task of claiming his birthright, and accepting the death of Tula so he can heal his emotional wounds? Oh. Tula is alive? And now related to Orm? And they hardly know each other? Well, he just went to Magic College and he’s good for absolutely no reason at all. Is he still close with Arthur? I’m not sure. Arthur paid for college, but has never spoken to Garth. Garth is absent from all major life events in the Aquafamily. He has never met Arthur’s biological kid. He has no useful role inside a comic that he used to be an integral part of, his usual role has been split among others. So there goes his backstory. There go his emotional connections. Goodbye to the major emotional highs and lows as well. Goodbye to his personality traits, intentionally written to be played off of Arthur’s. Goodbye to any kind of role in the narrative; when you can replace his character with a nameless extra, is he really part of the story?

And when you remove all of that…what is there to like about this character, anyway?