#after i specifically told myself i wasn't gonna do this again

[foxedfriend]

9-1-1 || 7x04

here before buddie canon!! 😜😜

(🤡🤡🤡)

also currently listening to bad omens by 5sos and that exactly describes how i feel about this.

[puppmeo]

Have you ever been assumed to be romantically attracted to someone and even just the thought of that makes you want to throw up . Anybody

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: I’m On Fire*

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Summary: When Joe mistakenly leaves his JB9 iced-out chain while at an away game, you bless him with a little photoshoot while you're hours away in Cincinnati.

Warnings: Smut

Paring: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Just the Two of Us

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*No specific date for this fic!*

(y/n’s pov)

Joe had just left the house for an away game, and due to some work-related stuff, I wasn't able to go with him.

The pouty expression he gave me when we were standing at the front door just a little bit ago made me want to climb into his bag. His lower lip sticking out was oddly convincing, along with his blue eyes.

“Joe, you know I can't go, baby.” - you

“Please… I want you to go with me.” - Joe whined

“I wish I could go too, but I can't, J.” - you

Joe whined once again, but this time, it made me roll my eyes. My annoyance didn't last long, though, as he hunched over and laid his head on my shoulder.

“I love you.” - Joe mumbled

His face being pressed into my neck made his words muffled, but it was oddly adorable.

“I love you too, but if you don't leave now, you're going to be late.” - you

I laughed when he stood up straight and groaned.

“I'm gonna be so lonely by myself in my hotel room tonight.” - Joe

“We can Facetime, goofball.” - you

“Not the same.” - Joe whined

“Okay, enough whining. Goodbye, Joe.” - you

Joe stared at me for a few seconds, trying to come up with a response that didn't show how annoyed he really was.

“Bye…” - Joe mumbled

I stood up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Joe’s lips. When I pulled away, I giggled at the look of his flushed cheeks.

“Love you, sheisty.” - you

“Love you too.” - Joe grinned

——

Hours later, I was bored out of my mind, all alone in this big house.

I had cleaned almost the entire house, scrolled through Pinterest, made a dinner recipe I had pinned, and finished a show I had been binging - Fool Me Once.

There was pretty much nothing to do.

All I was doing right now was lying in bed, watching the ceiling fan turn, and feeling kinda sad when I got a whiff of Joe’s scent off of his pillow.

I missed him, and I saw him just hours ago.

That's what happens when your boyfriend turns into your best friend, I guess.

Joe’s game wasn't till tomorrow, but they'd probably just landed at their destination.

Maybe I should text him?

After thinking about it for a few minutes, I made up my mind and texted Joe.

hiiii

Ew, no. Sounds desperate.

What am I even talking about? I've been with this man for six years.

I had almost deleted my message, but Joe answered before I could.

HIIII! 😁

He's such a dork, I thought to myself with a giggle.

Wyd?

Nothinggg, hbu??

Do I tell the truth or make a lie to seem productive? In the end, I told the truth.

Missing you.

My heart warmed at Joe’s message back.

I miss you too. ☹️

Are you at your hotel yet?

It took Joe a few minutes to answer, but his reasoning was ironic.

Just got back from checking in actually. Imma head up to my room, take a shower, and then ft you.

Okay, I'll talk to you then! 🫶

Talk to ya then, I LOVE YOU! 🥰

I hearted his message and than sent the sentiment back.

Love you more, baby. 😘

The conversation ended after Joe’s simple but butterfly-inducing text.

Not fuckin’ possible.

——

We were on Facetime for way longer than we should have, but neither of us cared.

The call ended with the usual “I love you more” back-and-forth playful argument.

Joe won in the end, and I can't say I’m surprised because he always did.

After the call ended, I was just lying in bed, my head on Joe’s pillow, just to smell his scent.

I got bored eventually and decided to play around in the closet. Joe always forbade me from trying on his chains, but he wasn't here.

My eyes immediately widened with excitement as I opened the top drawer on Joe’s side of our walk-in closet.

Everything was cleared out except one chain, he probably took them all with him to have options for his fit tomorrow.

“Damn, this is heavy.” - you mumbled

It was the JB9 Nike check chain Joe wore for the AFC Championship in 2022.

One of my personal favorites out of his collection but too iconic to be worn again.

God, he looked so hot that day.

I stared at myself in the mirror, the chain of my boyfriend’s initials and number adorning my neck.

That's when I got the idea.

——

Settling into my bed for the night, I grabbed my phone and giggled to myself as I looked through the pictures recently taken in my camera roll.

Nothing but black lace and that iced-out chain.

——

Next Day

Joe won his game, and sure, I was happy to see him win, but being miles away from him and unable to celebrate with him put a damper on my mood.

I watched the game by myself in the living room, and then proudly watched his post-game conference.

Just a minute after Joe left the media room, I received a text from him.

Did you watch the game?

Of course. Watched your conference too, baby.

Joe didn’t answer for a few minutes, and I thought he might've gone to take his postgame shower, but his text back made me laugh.

I just got made fun of because I was blushing from your text. “You texting yo girl?”

What did you say back? 😂

I proudly said yes. 😁

A few seconds passed before another text vibrated my phone.

Hey, I gotta go shower, though. We're set to get home late tonight, so don't wait up on me.

What if I want to?

You'll wake up with me next to you in the morning either way, so no need to wait for me to get back.

He was right, so I left him alone to go shower.

——

It was around ten o'clock, and Joe had texted me just a little bit ago, saying they were on the bus to the airport.

Out of nowhere, with no context or caption with it, I sent Joe my little experiment earlier.

Attachment: 10 images

When I was left alone with Joe’s chain earlier, I took a little photo shoot with some black lace lingerie and Joe’s chain.

He'd usually take a power nap on his way to the plane, so I was surprised when his response was quick.

Joe sent a picture of himself with his eyes wide and mouth dropped open in shock.

The silly reaction picture made me giggle, but I had no idea that Joe had just pulled his bag onto his lap while on the bus in an attempt to hide the stirring between his legs.

Fucking shit, y/n. I'm getting so hard right now that I might have to rub one out on the plane.

No. 😘

Wdym, no?

How do I word this?

You always get pissed when I get off without you, how about a taste of your own medicine?

I don't get pissed…

Joe, honey.

Please, baby.

No.

Joe sighed and put his phone on his chest, discreetly slipping his hand down his sweatpants to rearrange the erection in his boxers. He's so hard just from the sight of nothing but lingerie and his initials in the form of diamonds on your body.

He so wished he was with you, inside you.

——

When Joe got home, it was really late.

You were already sleeping, so when Joe slipped into the bedroom he made sure to be quiet.

Joe stood there for a few seconds, just admiring how peaceful you looked while sleeping.

A small smile found its way onto his face when he noticed you were wearing his t-shirt and snuggled onto his pillow instead of yours.

After staring for a lot longer than he anticipated, Joe put his bag down and took his sweatshirt off before crawling into bed beside you.

You stirred for a bit, feeling the presence of someone else near you. After moving around for a bit, you were met with a hard chest, but you knew it all too well.

Joe grinned to himself when you snuggled into him, your face against his pec. He ran his fingers through your hair, and soon, you were peacefully sleeping again.

Feeling tired but unable to sleep, Joe discreetly grabbed his phone to see the messages he wasn't able to answer on the plane and his drive home.

You sent him a video?

Joe made sure his volume was down before pressing play on the video. His eyes went wide when he was met with the sight of you fingering yourself.

All at once, Joe’s heart rate picked up, he started sweating, and his cock stirred in his sweatpants.

He didn't need volume to know you were moaning his name with each thrust of your fingers. Joe was able to read your lips.

The sight of your head thrown back, bare chest, and your sweet heat swallowing your fingers had Joe fully erect in a matter of a minute.

He needed you badly.

Joe can admit he was thinking with his dick and not his brain when he shook you awake. In his defense, most of his blood supply was in the wrong head.

“Joey?” - you mumbled

“Shit- sorry I woke you up…” - Joe

“I missed you…” - you

His heart fluttered, and he hoped you wouldn't shift around and feel him. Please just go back to sleep.

In all honesty, Joe felt guilty waking you up with his sexual needs in mind. He felt horrible and selfish.

“Missed you too, baby.” - Joe

You moved around and Joe’s eyes went wide. Please don't feel it. Please don't feel it.

Abruptly, you paused your shifting and looked up at Joe’s face. Maybe she just found a comfortable spot?

It was hard to make out Joe’s features in the dark, but you could see his piercing blue eyes easily.

Unbeknownst to Joe, you'd felt his hard-on as soon as he got it, but you wanted to mess with him, make him beg for it.

Slowly, you reached your hand out and palmed his bulge. Joe bit his lower lip to stop an audible reaction as you started rubbing him.

“He missed me too, huh?” - you giggle

“Fuck- so much.” - Joe

“Take your pants off, Joe.” - You

Joe shed his pants and boxers off faster than the speed of light, all because his girl asked.

Now that he was completely free from restraint, Joe got even harder, and he didn't think that was possible.

You spit into your hand and firmly grasped his cock, a plan forming in your mind as you started to jerk him off.

Joe was a groaning mess, relishing in the feel of your hand around his length because he'd needed this for days.

Precum was beading at Joe’s tip, so you maneuvered yourself around to take him into your mouth.

“Sh-it.” - Joe moaned

He was close, so close.

“Baby- I'm gonna… cum!” - Joe

You pulled off of him, trying to follow your plan of edging him until he couldn't help but beg for you to finish him off, but Joe was too close to stop his inevitable orgasm.

With a loud moan, Joe shot his load onto your face, some making it into your mouth.

Both of you were surprised when it happened, looking at each other with wide eyes.

“I- I'm sorry…” - Joe

“No, don't be.” - you

You reached out and put a hand on his chest, rubbing comforting circles on it.

He grabbed a tissue off of his nightstand and wiped his cum off of your face.

“That was kinda embarrassing…” - Joe

“Why?” - you

Your voice was soft, a little sad yourself that Joe felt embarrassed.

“I don't know, I couldn't stop it from happening, but it happened so fast. Like under three minutes? That's embarrassing.” - Joe

“Joe, don't be embarrassed. How long you last doesn't matter to me at all, I just wanna make you feel good.” - you

He nodded but bit the insides of his cheeks.

“I think it's kinda hot that I can get you off that fast. Makes me feel good about myself.” - you

“Really? You don't think it's funny or embarrassing?” - Joe

“No, baby.” - you

You leaned up and pressed a big kiss to Joe’s lips, one of his legs slotting between yours, causing you to grind down onto his thigh.

“Mmm, Joey baby.” - you moaned

“That's it.” - Joe

——

Next Morning

You woke up with a grin on your face as you replayed last night's events in your mind.

Joe had gotten you off twice with his fingers and tongue before he filled you up with his thick cock.

In the back of his mind, he was still feeling a little self-conscious about his first orgasm of the night, but he wouldn't let it show.

When you two were in the shower cleaning up, you could tell something was on Joe’s mind and that something was what had happened earlier.

Without saying anything, you dropped to your knees when his back was to you. He turned around and looked down at you, his dick stirring to life at the all-too-familiar position.

Despite the fact you two had just gone four rounds, Joe’s craving for you was never-ending.

You'd slowly reached out to stroke him, and you finished him off with your mouth.

He manhandled you back to your feet before pressing you against the shower wall.

“If you want me to stop, I will, but you started this.” - Joe

The feel of his thick length against your behind, and his hands holding you in place was getting you worked up all over again.

“Fuck me, Joey.” - you

You two ended the night giggling in bed as you counted up the number of orgasms shared between you two that night.

“Four for me, four for you, gah-lee!” - Joe

“I’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow morning.” - you

“Fuck I might even have a limp.” - Joe

You were pulled out of your fantasies when Joe walked into the bedroom. Toes curled at the sweet sight of him.

Joe wore nothing but a bashful smile, a pair of sweatpants, and raging bedhead.

“Hi.” - you smiled

“Hi. How'd you sleep?” - Joe

“Good. Get in bed with me?” - you

He did as you asked and curled up in bed beside you, pulling you into his chest in the process.

“Where were you?” - you

“Uh… nowhere…” - Joe

You sat up and looked at him, giving him a skeptical look as you narrowed your eyes at him.

Joe sighed and broke your eye contact.

“I was doing something downstairs. It was supposed to be a surprise after you got ready, but you can come downstairs now.” - Joe

You excitedly jumped out of Joe’s arms and ran out of the bedroom, your hand grabbing his as he followed you.

When you two got downstairs, you saw the dining table set up like a date. Breakfast on both of the plates and a bouquet of roses between them.

Joe walked away from you for a second and grabbed a rose.

He walked back up to you and held the flower in front of his bare chest.

“Go on a date with me?” - Joe

You grinned at your boyfriend so big that your cheeks hurt.

“Of course.” - you

Joe handed the single rose to you, and you stood up on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his smooth cheek.

“Thank god, woulda been really awkward if you said no.” - Joe

“I'd never say no to you.” - you laughed

The blush on his cheeks went deep, almost to the shade of the rose he gave you.

You spent the rest of the morning laughing with the handsome man you loved so deeply, wondering about how you got so lucky, and thinking about your future with him.

You were so grateful to have a man you could laugh with, share secrets with, tell all the drama to, and have intense intimate moments with. Sometimes, all within the same day or hour.

It was scary to realize how much of yourself you put in Joe’s hands, but you trusted him more than anything.

The sweet thoughts and realizations were swirling in your mind and making you smile. You'd been staring out of the window, but your thoughts were abruptly interrupted…

*BURP*

Your wide eyes snapped over to Joe, who was holding a hand over his mouth and shared the same wide-eyed look.

“Sorry, didn't expect it to be that loud.” - Joe laughed

“Gosh, I love you.” - you laughed along with him

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Authors note: GOT IT OUT BEFORE MONDAY! 😆

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! ❤️❤️

[spacelazarwolf]

i think sexual abuse is a lot more complicated than ppl want to admit and i’m going to use two (of the many) scenarios i’ve personally been in to talk abt it. it’s gonna get kind of explicit so just be warned.

so the first scenario is me and my high school boyfriend. we're both 15 and horny all the time, and the first time we have sex i didn't even know it was going to happen. we were messing around in my garage, and he just like. stuck it in. was losing my virginity bent over a tractor in the garage the way i wanted to lose my virginity? no. did he ask for my consent? no. but. i do not consider what happened to me to be rape or assault. it didn't upset me, it didn't cause me trauma, it really didn't affect me beyond "holy shit i lost my virginity."

the second scenario is something that happened frequently between me and my abusive ex boyfriend. i would be in the mood for sex, express that interest to him, he would reject me, so i would back off. then after a minute, he would start flirting with me and showing interest in having sex with me, so i'd start flirting back, and then he'd reject me again. and when i say reject, i don't just mean "i'm not in the mood" i mean "ew why are you being so clingy get off me" when moments before he'd been grabbing my ass. he would go through this cycle until he was satisfied that i felt shitty enough about myself that i'd let him do whatever he wanted. did i want to have sex? yes. did i consent to that sex? yes. but. i consider what happened to be sexual abuse because he explicitly needed me to feel like shit in order for him to enjoy the sex and in order for me to not question what happened during it because i would feel like i "wanted it."

between those two scenarios, only one happened specifically without my consent. but that's not the scenario i consider to be assault. some might say the second situation was a negation of consent, and i think it absolutely can be. but for me and my own personal experience, i consider it to essentially be weaponizing the consent i did give, which is what made it so insidious. and i feel like people often want to project that violation of consent onto me regardless of how i actually describe the event because they conflate consent with healthy sex, so any unhealthy sex must be a violation of consent, and that's just not how it always works.

i feel like discussions around sexual assault tend to be so incredibly black and white, which makes sense because the people participating in them are traumatized! it's hard to have nuance when you're traumatized! but i think it's still important to have these conversations because there have been times where i was in spaces specifically for survivors and was told that what happened to me wasn't abuse because i consented, and it was "insensitive" to compare it to "actual rape" (which i also experienced from the same ex). in order to really heal, we need to be able to have these tough conversations, because i promise they're worth it.

[jo-harrington]

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 4: Reader Suggestions

Previous Chapter: Lore Dump

Summary: Things start to get a little strange when The Writer hits the dreaded Writer's Block and looks for some inspiration.

Word Count: 4.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Chaos, SMUT?, Cockblocking?, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Various References to Movies and Television, Probably a little more lore (just assume that theres gonna be bits of lore everywhere), Criticism of Fanfiction, Analysis of Fanfiction/Fandom, Meta Fiction

Note: This is more of a "filler episode" to establish some of the rules of Eddie and Reader's predicament than anything specifically plot-driven, until the end. You could say that I myself felt a little bit of Writer's Block...not necessarily because I couldn't get anything onto a page but that it wasn't happening for this story in particular. (Coincidental that it happened at this specific chapter. Almost like I planned it that way. Maybe I did.)

So please forgive me if anything feels a little rusty; I'm getting back on this bicycle after a few months of letting it sit in the garage. But I'm happy I get to take it for a spin again. We're in it for the Tour de France now lads! Or we die trying.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

You know, in a previous life, if someone told you that you'd be laughing in the face of a bloodthirsty, murderous vampire, you would probably think it was impossible.

That was, unfortunately, the reality you lived in right now.

Red, veiny, monstrous eyes. Sharp fangs. Hissing and roaring.

And you just snickering like an idiot with a death wish.

Probably because you knew it wasn't actually a death wish.

Your arrival in Mystic Falls was an interesting and exciting one. Mainly because of how normal it was.

It was a small town and everyone seemed friendly enough and you were truly ready for it to be a break in the action. Despite it being another so-called "modern" or "futuristic" setting.

Futuristic to you, at least. Still a bit stuck in your 1985 mindset, 2009 seemed beyond your imagination. More than the 90s had been, or 2004. Still not as bad as when one of the Writers shoved you onto the USS Enterprise so you could woo Bones McCoy. And certainly not 100 Trillion years in the future, at the end of the Universe with The Doctor.

Still, you were happy for a change of pace. So you chugged into town with your trusty Beetle like you usually did, until you made it to the large house on Maple Street that was the new residence of your supposed "college best friend," Jenna Sommers.

You liked Jenna, actually. She was sweet and funny and hated the hoity-toity elites of the town's Founding Families. She dragged you to all the Historical Society events just to have an ally, and those nights were always a hoot. You'd gossip about the mayor's affair with so-and-so, drink free booze til you saw double, and stuff your tiny handbags with their expensive hors d'oeuvres.

After years of traveling through various universes, and over analyzing your friendships back in Port Geneva, she was a breath of fresh air and someone you truly cherished.

She also set you up with her boyfriend's best frenemy--her words, not yours--Damon Salvatore.

And he seemed fine.

Great, actually.

A normal, sarcastically funny, suave, handsome sort of guy who took you out a few times and always behaved like a gentleman, and kissed better than anyone you'd ever kissed before.

Until this very moment, where the penny dropped, and he roared in your face with his fangs.

And you just laughed in his.

Because of course he was a vampire.

Of course you couldn't have a nice, normal thing.

Once.

Ever.

December 1985

If Eddie thought his life had been out of control before, it was safe to say that the moment he realized that it was being controlled by some Writer in another universe, it only got worse.

For a few days, there had been a break in the madness.

Well, there were some things that still fucked with Eddie's head.

Some of the posters on his walls were for bands he didn't like, his collection of exclusively DC comics became an array of Marvel titles, and his stash of porn...needless to say it was full of shit he'd never even thought about before.

He still jerked off to it, though. What else was he gonna do? Not jerk off?

But there were no out-of-body feelings, no wacky spectacles in class, no unexpected emergencies. The trailer even stayed clean for a whole week; it was a godsend.

"Does that mean it's all over?" Eddie asked when you'd arrived at his trailer for a night in.

"Unfortunately not," you sighed. "I don't know the ins and outs of it. Sometimes the story proceeds as planned. Sometimes you get long stretches of time where nothing happens. You've heard of Writer's Block? Maybe they're having trouble trying to figure out what's next for us."

"Why don't they just give up?" he huffed. "Leave us alone."

"Would you give up if you were trying to figure out some complicated plot for Hellfire?"

"Yeah, but that's different. It's just DnD. These are our lives that this asshole is playing with."

"And what if, somewhere, Agrithor the Invincible is real and getting mad because Jeff rolled a Nat 1 on a medicine check and now he has dysentery."

Eddie didn't know if he was cranky because you were right, or a little more in love with you because you had been listening to him rant about Hellfire.

"It's a learning curve," you continued. "It gets weird when you start to think of your life like a story someone is writing, waiting for the next thing to happen. Trust me. I learned that the hard way."

"So what should I do? Just go with the flow?"

"You need to, otherwise you start second guessing what's real and what isn't with everything."

"Hmmm..." He tilted his head from side to side considering your words. What's real and what isn't. A loaded statement in this predicament the two of you found yourselves in.

"So let's just enjoy our night in," you said with finality. "What's the plan? Fraggle Rock and fooling around?" You glanced around him to the setup on the coffee table. VHS tapes and cans of soda and a bowl of popcorn.

Eddie felt his cheeks getting hot with embarrassment.

"Speaking of what's real...I, uh, thought it might be fun for us to watch a few episodes of Port Geneva?"

You looked at him like he'd grown a second head; your brows raised in question, mouth dropping open in shock.

"I just...have some questions about things that didn't really make sense," he was quick to explain. "Continuity errors. Who better to ask than someone who was there?"

It took a second, but you broke down into laughter and you threw your hands up in defeat.

"You know what, as long as you order us pizza too, fuck it. Fine! Let's see what all the commotion is about."

That had been the last truly fun night for a little while--

His tapes were paused more than they played because you kept getting up to rant about scenes you disagreed with, or stories that the producers of the show simply got wrong, or key scenes that had been cut altogether.

Every time you'd get up and shout and talk with your hands and point at him to get him to understand...he loved you more and more...

--and Eddie felt bad for not taking advantage of the normalcy for as long as he could.

Because things started getting weird.

First Christmas had come, and it had been a joy.

Munson Christmases were simple affairs. More of a day for hearty food and relaxation than for any traditions or celebrations. You'd of course joined in, along with Granny Ecker, who lamented over Ronnie not being able to come home for the holiday.

Both Granny and Wayne had conspired to get you and Eddie under the mistletoe though, and had ooh'd and ahh'd when your lips met several times over the course of the night.

But Eddie looked forward to New Year's a little more than Christmas; he and the guys typically shot fireworks at the quarry and TP'd all of the jocks' houses in the middle of the night. You'd had similar New Years celebrations with your friends back in Port Geneva, so he figured it would be a treat for you to join them.

Except New Year's Eve never came.

On what was supposed to be the 31st, Eddie slept in, anticipating he'd be up all night with you and the guys. He got his backpack ready with supplies and walked out of his bedroom, only to find Wayne in the kitchen cooking.

"Did we have plans I forgot about?" he asked his uncle.

Wayne crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at him.

"You getting sick, kid?" he asked. "Don't know how you could forget about Christmas."

Christmas?!

"But it's," Eddie scoffed, "it's New Years' Eve."

Wayne opened his mouth to respond when there was a knock at the door, and after a beat, you walked in with several grocery bags in hand.

"Hey guys," you greeted cheerfully. "Merry Christmas!"

Wayne repeated the sentiment and motioned for Eddie to go and help you.

"M-Merry, uh, Christmas sweetheart," he said with heavy sarcasm as he reached your side. You shot Eddie a very pointed stare. "What's going on?"

"Just go with the flow," you muttered to him, leaving no time for explanation before you and Wayne started chatting.

So that's exactly what he did.

And truly, there wasn't anything wrong about having a second Christmas.

You'd baked cookies and he'd helped you decorate them; you kissed icing off the tip of his nose and then he'd serenaded you and Wayne with carols on his guitar while It's a Wonderful Life played in the background. He honestly had so much fun, all of his complaints and questions got put to the wayside

It was the fact that the following day brought yet another Christmas.

"Alright," he demanded when you'd arrived to make popcorn garlands with him. "What the hell is going on?"

"A time loop." You explained. "A request loop, actually. The Writer must have asked for Holiday-themed requests from their readers to get themselves out of their slump. Not the first time I've been through this."

"And everyone chose Christmas?" he scoffed. "Damn, these people are boring. Halloween is the best holiday, obviously!"

"Obviously," you laughed.

"Or April Fool's Day!"

"It must be December in their world too." You cupped his face in your hands. "Listen, request loops suck and they're boring. But trust me, you got lucky that it's just holidays. It could be worse."

So of course it got worse.

Because Eddie Munson could never get so lucky as fate taking it easy on him.

The requests didn't stop with Holidays--although, it had been a nauseating gauntlet of Christmases and Thanksgivings, with one Valentine's Day and a 4th of July thrown in for good measure--they extended to other things too.

Eddie had woken up one morning with the word "faucet" stuck in his head.

No rhyme or reason.

Just "faucet."

He suspected that The Writer had something to do with it, especially as he felt a strange anticipation to interject the word into conversation at some point in the day. Like he was compelled to say it in every sentence and every conversation, but none of them felt right.

Only when Dave had gone to get a drink from the water fountain and had stuck his entire mouth on the spigot did Eddie get any relief.

"Fuck Dave, you don't know how many germs are on that faucet?" he practically gasped as the weight on his chest and his mind finally alleviated.

It happened again a few days later. An insatiable need to talk about "root beer floats" all throughout the day, until the evening when he picked you up for a date.

It had been a great date, sure, but he hated root beer.

Finally, it was the word "alluring." Not one that was usually a part of his vocabulary, but this Writer seemed to want to teach Eddie a lesson by using some fancy word.

This time, the key word was said to you during a steamy make out session on your couch. Eddie's lips traveled down the column of your throat, sucking at your pulse, and he told you how alluring you were. Your moan was delicious, and no matter how true the statement was or how much he wanted to continue, he simply couldn't find the desire to.

The moment felt tainted. All of them did. No matter how funny or sweet or hot they were; the knowledge that he was just a puppet on the Writer's strings was a sour feeling and he just couldn't shake it.

You held him in your arms as he lamented about the lack of control he felt.

"I'm sorry," you whispered into his hair as you rubbed soothing circles over his back and shoulders. "I wish I could make it better. I wish I could make it all go away."

Eddie was just so overcome with emotions and feeling so unlike himself that he asked, "what if you could?"

You paused your movements and strained to look at him, confused.

"What...what do you mean?"

"I don't..." He closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't know what I mean."

Yes he did.

The thoughts had begun to form the moment the words exited his mouth, until they were a tempest swirling in his mind.

"Ok," you simply dismissed, and then continued your attentions.

"Actually," he couldn't stop himself then. He pushed himself away from you and stared directly into your eyes. "I...this all started because you came to Hawkins. So maybe...maybe if you tried to leave."

He immediately saw the heartbreak in your eyes, and he knew he fucked up.

"Do you want me to leave?" you questioned softly.

Everything inside of him screamed no. Of course he didn't want you to leave. In fact, he wanted the opposite of that; he wanted you to stay with him forever. He'd been willing to sell his soul to the devil just for the chance to have you, have someone who understood him the way you did.

He was just...so...tired.

So tired in that moment, he could only focus on his own desperation. His own feelings. He hadn't even thought to consider yours.

"I just...have you ever tried to leave?" he wondered. "You said you get in your car and you come to all of these worlds; that's how you travel into these stories. Have you ever tried to get back into your car and leave? Back to Port Geneva?"

"I don't," you shook your head rapidly, hands held up in front of your face as though you were trying to manifest a physical version of the idea just so you could conceptualize it. "I don't even know how I could. Or where I would go? How to get there?"

"You said that there were times when you got to go back."

"But I'd just end up there," you explained. "I've never decided on my own that it was time to go. I don't have a map."

"Maybe that'd be the end of it all," Eddie grabbed your hands in his. "That's the key to breaking the cycle. If you decided that you wanted to leave, if you tried to go home, the Writer would be compelled to give up and our lives could both go back to normal."

Your eyes darted between his, and you calmly repeated the question, "Eddie do you want me to leave?"

He hesitated so you continued.

"You said we were in this together. You said you'd help keep me grounded and I would do the same for you." You took a deep breath and repeated yourself for a third time. "Do you want me to leave?"

It was an eternity of waiting before he finally answered.

"No, of course not." You pulled your gaze away from his, your face crumpling in a way that made his heart ache. "I just figured...it was just an idea. And it couldn't hurt to try."

He tried to talk, tried to explain himself, and went on rambling for minutes on end. He even stood up and started pacing, hands running through his hair anxiously.

He cursed the Writer for doing this to you, cursed the Writer's Block for putting the two of you in this kind of a position in the first place. Cursed the Gods and Devils for making such an inescapable Hell in the first place.

He hoped the more he talked the more you'd see his frustration, his side of things.

Or at the very least, you'd try to fight him. Yell at him. Tell him he was wrong.

But you just nodded along, refusing to look at him.

It's a learning curve, you'd told him.

Because you'd been through this a million times before, lived this nightmarish life that he was now getting to experience for the first time. Shit, you'd even loved people before you'd come here and started having feelings for him.

Loved and lost and left. Whether you wanted to or not.

He thought he'd understood that. You had thought that he thought he'd understood.

But maybe he didn't. If he thought that getting you to go was the magic solution.

He realized, in that second that he stared at you and you stared at the floor, that this life wasn't the only learning curve for him.

And he wasn't the only one with something to learn either.

You both needed to adapt.

It's a learning curve.

He decided, with a soft kiss to the side of your head and a "see you later sweetheart," that it was better to leave and give you both the space to think and adapt, instead of just standing there digging himself into a deeper hole.

It would get better.

It had to.

But who knew what tomorrow would bring?

He was on a stage playing for a crowd of thousands.

It wasn't the biggest venue they played but it was the only sold out show on the tour.

They were all singing along with him, cheering. His friends, his bandmates, surrounding him and supporting him.

The lights were blinding, he was sweating, and his fingers tapped against the fretboard rapidly until it felt like they would bleed.

He played the last few notes of the song and then threw his arm up in the air with a flourish, all to the backdrop of their cheers.

He saw his face on shirts in the crowd, saw his name, heard them chant his name.

"Eddie...Eddie...Eddie..."

He basked in the majesty of it all, so far from his meek beginnings, so far from Hawkins. If he really thought about it, he didn't even feel like himself anymore. He felt like more.

It felt great.

It felt powerful.

And it was everything he ever wanted.

He pulled the earpiece from his ear and spoke into the microphone as Dave and Jeff threw picks into the crowd.

"Thank you guys...you've been great." He laughed as they cheered for him again. "Port Geneva is one of our favorite places to play. It feels like a little bit of home away from home. The best shows, the best crowds. The best food. Anyone else going to Bonnie's after the show?"

There was a roar of applause again.

"Maybe we'll see you there. It's the main reason we keep coming back here. I always get the Number 7 on Rosemary Bread."

There was a lone boo from the pit; he pulled the mike from the stand and took a few steps to the edge of the stage, eyeing the people for the source of said boo.

There was a couple; a handsome, conventional-looking guy with very neatly combed hair, who wore a flannel over a tee from their first tour. And a girl, pretty--main character pretty--with a hand-written poster in her hands...scolding her boyfriend under her breath.

Bingo.

"We don't like hecklers at our show but if you have a better order than mine I think you need to share it with the class," Eddie grinned at them. There was something familiar about the guy...and the girl...he just couldn't place where he'd seen them before. He shook off the feeling. "Come on, I won't bite."

"If you're not getting the Bonnie Special," the guy shouted up at him, "then you're not doing it right."

The crowd around them boo'd but Eddie stopped them.

"No, no," he chuckled. "I like a guy who knows what he wants. Very metal of you man. What's your name?"

"Patrick."

"Nice to meet you Patrick. I'm Eddie." The crowd laughed. "But seriously no Rosemary bread? That's ok. More for me."

He put the earpiece back in and turned back to the guys, ready to do what he did best: keep playing.

---

Once the show was over, he and the guys indeed made a stop at Bonnie's.

The little sandwich shop was overrun with fans wanting to meet them. He shook hands and signed autographs, as people snapped pictures of them at the counter, ordering a veritable feast to-go.

Then when they got their food and Eddie's hunger got to be too great for him to wait anymore, they were sped back to their hotel.

He wished his bandmates and their manager a goodnight before ducking into his room and bolting the door behind him. He took a few steps in and flipped the light switch on.

And there, sprawled out on the bed, was a different sort of feast.

The true object of Eddie's hunger: you.

You in perfectly paired, borderline scandalous lingerie, hair and makeup impeccable, staring at him with a mirroring hunger in your eyes.

"Hey rockstar," you greeted with a predatory grin. "Kept me waiting long enough."

"Wouldn't you believe it," he smirked at you and gestured to the takeout bag in his hand. "They were out of Rosemary bread."

"That's what happens when you shout your order to a crowd of your biggest fans."

"Funny I didn't see you there."

"How else would I know that you told them your sandwich order?" you teased.

"Didn't hear you either."

"I'll scream your name tonight," you batted your lashes at him. "You'll make sure of that, big boy."

Oh yeah, it was always a boost to his ego when he got you to sing for him, scream for him.

He tossed the bag onto the dresser--for later--and then closed the distance so he could devour you.

His lips went straight for your collarbone, hands exploring your curves, eager to make you squeal; meanwhile, you made quick work of his clothes. His belt was gone instantaneously with a sharp snap, your fingers made quick work of the fly of his jeans, then you reached up to shove his jacket from his shoulders.

God, he'd been fantasizing about you for years--knew your body better than he knew his thanks to countless hours wasted on the tapes from the adult section of Family Video--and it had been a surprise to see your familiar face in the pit at that very first show in Port Geneva.

Or maybe a gift from whatever god or devil was out there.

He'd sought you out after the show and it had been instant chemistry. You both couldn't stop fawning over one another, even though it might've been a little bit more awkward on your part. But you certainly weren't shy about it.

"The rockstar and the porn star," you joked as you split that infamous Number 7 at Bonnie's after your first night together. "A real power couple."

But now it was a handful of years later, and that's exactly what you were. Names forever entwined together in gossip magazines and on each others lips--not to mention the lips of every man and woman who wanted to fuck both of you, even though that likelihood was a big fat zero.

Yeah the sex was great, but it was more than that.

It was knowing one another. Caring for one another. Especially when you were both in an industry where there was little-to-none of either of those things at all.

You'd known for a while; Eddie had found out the hard way.

That's what kept him coming back to you, coming back to a small town with a venue barely-big-enough for the band's rising fame.

Because it was your home, and you were Eddie's.

Home.

It was exactly what he thought as you pushed your panties aside and he sunk into you, wet and waiting and oh-so-deliciously tight.

"Fuck," he swore against your mouth, "I missed you."

"M-missed you too," you panted right back, squirming beneath him, waiting for him to move.

Of course, Eddie was an asshole and let you wait. Let you suffer. Shit he let himself suffer, just to savor being this close with you.

He knew once he got started, he wouldn't stop until it was over.

So he'd hold out for that one last little bit, because he knew before long, he'd be leaving home behind once again.

He wasn't a man known for patience though, and before long he began to move.

He bucked into you, kissed you, squeezed you, lavished you with attention until you were one.

It was a crescendo of feelings when he got to have you like this, his lips spilling promises before he spilled himself inside you.

I missed you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love yo--

Eddie woke up with a gasp, heart racing and a wet spot growing in his boxers.

There was heavy pounding at the side door, someone slamming thier fist against it over and over again.

"Shit," he cursed. "Shit, shit, shit."

He jumped out of bed, and looked down at himself, wincing at the mixture of his embarrassment, his cum-full underwear and his rapidly-softening cock.

"Eddie, it's me," you called through the door and he froze in panic. "I know you just had a wet dream. Can you open up? It's cold out here."

How the hell did you know that?

He waddled out of his room and to the adjacent door and then let you in. You--coat thrown over your pajamas, feet in fuzzy slippers--pushed past him and headed straight for the kitchen.

"We need to talk!" You told him urgently.

"Uh," he called after you. "Can I, uh..." He gestured down at himself.

You pivoted on your heel, and then glanced from his face, down to his crotch.

Your face cycled through an array of warring emotions before it settled on bashfulness.

"Sure," you squeaked. "I'll...uh...make coffee."

Eddie locked himself in the bathroom for several minutes, listening to you bang around in the kitchen as he cleaned himself up and changed.

By the time he walked out, you were sitting at the little table, biting your nails, as two mugs sat in front of you invitingly.

"How did you know about my dream?" he asked immediately as he fell into the seat opposite you.

"Because I had one too," you said in an obvious tone.

He immediately felt his cheeks get hot, and he grabbed the steaming cup of coffee to take a sip, the scalding liquid not nearly as bad as the feelings that burned through him.

"I know...things weren't great last night," you stared once his attention was back on you, "but if shit like that's going to happen--"

"And what exactly was that?"

"That was our Writer finding their inspiration again," you explained. "Probably from one of those pesky requests. For an alternate universe. We can't exactly be...in other places. Yeah sometimes it happens, but when there's already an established world like this one...where I'm here in Hawkins...alternate universes happen in dreams."

"And are they always..." He waved his hand as he looked for the word.

"Pornographic?" The tension between you broke and two of you laughed, all worry melting instantly. "No...not always. But, uh, I guess it doesn't exactly bode well if our Writer found their inspiration for us in that AU."

Eddie swallowed hard and felt his face heat up again, for a different reason this time.

"It wasn't that bad," he muttered and you shook your head at him with a fond chuckle.

"No," you replied. "It wasn't. But, uh, I was kind of hoping you wouldn't see me naked without...I don't know, me being the one to show you."

The realization hit him too, that all of that...was all of that...was that all against both of your wills?

Sort of?

Kind of?

"It's ok," you assured him, seeing the conflict taking over his features. "I, uh...it happens a lot differently for us if either of us didn't actually want to have sex."

"Got it," he nodded, a little relieved that meant you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. But then he paused as he realized the implication...and what that meant for you in the past.

He was about to ask, to check and see if you were ok, but you quickly moved back to the original topic.

"If the Writer has found inspiration again," you began. "That means we need to be on the same page. We need to work together and support each other, because who knows what they have in store for us.

"There are a million types of stories out there. Daring adventures, fluffy romances, angsty heartbreaks. It's a bitch to deal with, honestly. We already know that this Writer wants us together, and they've already thrown wrenches into our relationship. With Steve...and Chrissy...plus the sheer unpredictability, if this dream was anything to go by...it's going to be difficult.

"So you need to be prepared," you said with a tone of finality. "We can't...you can't do what you did earlier. You've gotta keep your cool. There's no escaping this. For either of us. And you can't really fight it, but if you try to, there's definitely ways that it could make things worse for us. There's no way we can stop this until it's over. Until the story this Writer wants to tell is complete."

You reached across the table and covered Eddie's hands with your own.

"I know it's hard and I know it sucks for your world to be turned upside down," you told him gently. "But you need to hold it together. You need to listen to me, trust me. Otherwise there's no telling what might happen."

Your eyes were full of desperation, full of care, and as much as he wanted to question things--question everything--he knew now was not the time or the place.

So he assured you, without a hint of doubt or question in his voice, "I trust you."

Then he turned his hands so your fingers could twine together, and he squeezed.

"And don't worry," he smiled. "You can trust me too."

Next Chapter: Friends to Lovers

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[flowers-of-io]

I *can* tell you why Neztea: When his brother Set cut him up into pieces after killing him, Osiris' wife Isis assembled all the pieces and wrapped his body up, enabling him to return to life.

I *can't* tell you why it was Mithrax and us collecting the bits of Nezarec instead of Saint. I *can't* tell you why it was bits of Nezzy in the canopic jars instead of bits of Osiris himself.

I *can* tell you we went through the whole song and dance of Osiris being functionally dead and then functionally revived, as tedious as it may have been, simply because that's the myth of Osiris and that's what Bungie does.

Full disclosure: I'm still perplexed about why it was Nez brew as well, but I personally call as of yet unclear Savathûn shenanigans. One of the biggest motifs associated with her specifically is tea and teacups. Don't believe me? Go do a search on ishtar. Saint's got his suspicious mystery teacup. You know what bone china is made from? Literal bones.

(There's also the Calix Summus emblem, which once again points us back towards the hive and their alchemy and nezzy (with the pyramid line thingy coming out of the cup). Calix = cup, but calix also = calx, one of the products of calcination (if that doesn't ring a bell, look back at the context of the calcified fragments). Summus here probably means something like key or paramount, so... the most importantest cup. Check out the secondary part of them emblem! That's a syzygy!)

If I sound like a lunatic, well... that's fine. The fun thing about Destiny lore is that it *does* reward you for putting in legwork to understand the mythologies and theologies and philosophies it draws from, even if you sound like a maniac to most people.

If you're really curious and want to figure out what happened or is going to happen with Osiris, I'd start looking into the history of Osirian cults and their practices. You might find absolutely fuck all, but you might also find something interesting. I'd do it myself, but I'm balls deep in Hive names and writing systems for the foreseeable future. Oh, and keep an eye on Saint. I'm still not convinced he's gonna make it all the way to the end based on what we know about the story of the phoenix and the turtle dove pigeon

Last thing: If a garden grows in both directions and that garden is a metaphor for the story told in a parable, then the story probably requires as much tending in the past as it does the present.

Good luck, I love you, have fun, pirate books if you have to, and keep your third eye wide fucking open.

(A reply to this post)

First of all, I'm so sorry for missing this message somehow. I've been having issues with not getting (or overlooking?) notifications about new asks and it's driving me a little mad by now.

(Putting the rest under a read more, because it's A LOT)

Second of all, I feel so stupid lmao. Of COURSE it's the Osiris myth eh? I genuinely didn't make the connection AT ALL, despite noticing the damn canoptic jars and being like, huh, interesting! And then my brain didn't follow on it ever. What probably threw me off is what you mention, the fact it was Misraaks and us, and not Saint, collecting the pieces, and that these weren't even Osiris' pieces to begin with. And besides, he wasn't even dead.

There's quite a mix of symbolism in the whole thing here, overall? Nezarec is the Nightmares guy, which makes sense in terms of him being the cure for a guy stuck in a coma--but this acknowledges Osiris' status as *asleep*, not dead, which then throws off the whole myth thing. And remember that one piece of Nezarec is, or is in, the Delicate Tomb--and that gun is very long-time nuclear waste warnings-coded, y'know, the whole "This is not a place of honour" thing. "The danger within is repulsive to us" is as far as you could go referencing to "What is here was dangerous and repulsive to us" while not quoting it verbatim. (And also the Delicate Tomb states "within" because the danger--Nezarec--is literally inside the gun.) The name of the catalyst quest, The Form of the Danger, is a direct quote.

What interests me is the thought process Misraaks and Eido must've gone through to arrive at the conclusion that they should brew this ancient corpse and serve it as tea, but okay, let's suspend our disbelief and say they just studied the remains for a long time (which they did) and within the context of Nezarec being the Nightmares dude, it made some sense.

It's also really funny of Savathûn making *that* the cure for the coma, and very 5D chess for her. She could have reasonably assumed the Witness would go looking for Nezarec's remains when shit hit the fan, in order to have its powerful Disciple back; though how it wanted to revive him I'm not sure, seeing as it was the Traveler's laser beam that inadvertently did the job. But then of course we Guardians would try to stop it, and most likely succeeded, and once Nez's remains were in our hands, we'd obviously study them. And so we'd find the cure. It's so brilliant and so, so unserious.

And yeah, her and tea!!! I'm not sure how to connect Saint's teacup (if you mean the one from Quintessence) here, but "Dûl Incaru serves you poison in a fine tea set of Ahamkara bone" from Truth to Power is iconic. *Ahamkara* bone china!!

You're also so big brained about Calix Summus because I literally didn't know this emblem existed. (For the record, it was included in the January 2024 Prime Gaming bundle.) And yeah if we interpret the graphic as planets and orbits, that is indeed a syzygy... And yeah. Calcified fragments. Gosh this rabbit hole runs so deep.

Bro I NEED to know about what you're cooking regarding Hive names and writing systems!!!!! Your brain is so big and I want to pick it about everything lol.

Oh, I never interpreted the garden growing in both directions as a metaphor for the story told in a parable, but rather the paracausal forces' ability to change past and future + the Black Garden being a four-dimensional thing where space is time, but. BUT. The thing about parables and myths is they bend time, in a way. They connect the past to the present, and so by extension the future. Time there is always circular; they keep happening over and over, regardless of linear history. They aren't physically *real*, but they are true. (Also paging @svedupelle here bc I know he'll be interested.)

Thank you!!! My third eye is so open it's like half of my forehead now.

[wings-of-flying]

(spoilers for episode 114 and the black sea stuff in general)

who is the grandberry traitor?

the question isn't necessarily accurate as the traitor could be from a recruited pirate crew, like jaz's crew. however, the point still stands

grizzly has said no one's guessed exactly what will happen (whether that's about the plot in general or this specific thing isn't clear to me) which i'm going to assume means neither caspian, marshal john and rudith are the traitor

who does that leave? well, of the characters we know, not many. it could be lizzie, which would be interesting and she's got a possible motive plus doesn't approve of the black rose pirates. but...that doesn't seem likely. why would a spy recruit new pirates? why would a spy be so adamant in starting a war? there could be a reason, but we're working with ockham's razor here. the easiest solution is probably true

it could be a doppelganger of one of these known characters, which would be cool as fuck and difficult to guess, but i'm working on the assumption that whatever experiments are happening in the black sea's navy base aren't being used on a wide scale yet. this is an assumption that could be proven false, but it's what i'm going with for this. otherwise it's near impossible to guess who's the traitor. again, ockham's razor. easier solution

my evidence for this is that doppelgilly wasn't exactly perfect, yk. he didn't have to be, for his purpose of hunting down the intruders, but either they didn't have time to embue him with all gill's memories (possible, even likely) or they aren't able to do that yet (what i'm assuming is true)

so. lizzie probably isn't a doppelganger. no one who's well acquainted with either lizzie or the albatrio are likely doppelgangers. they wouldn't have the memories to prove themselves real

but what about someone who doesn't have any long standing connections (and therefore memories) with the albatrio (and lizzie)? they wouldn't need to be a perfect copy of themselves. they could just be a new person. no one would know

now this is where i'm gonna go a bit wild. because the previous paragraph makes sense to me. but there's also another solution. one which may be dumb but again. ockham's razor. it's simpler? maybe? (also this is an 'as i'm writing this' thought so bear with)

who do we know who's interacted very few times with the albatrio (and lizzie) and has recently become a pirate with a crew seemingly from nowhere? who's acted inconsistently with their previous iteration, but not enough to spark any questions? after all, it's possible grizzly just forgot that chip's marriage got annulled. it's possible that chip's wife also forgot this

that's right you fucks (/affectionate) i'm talking about amanda fucking rinn! my girl's been snatched and made into a doppelganger!

is this probably right? no. absolutely not. i'll shit myself if it is. but is it thought provoking? again no not really. but i'm putting it out there so that if it happens i can say I TOLD YOU SO! and if it doesn't i can play this off as a joke

anyway, it's probably a doppelganger. i mean, the concept of a traitor was released in the same episode gill got doppeled, so they're probably linked

[mayullla]

I probably should have said something rather than disappear for 2 to 3 months only to show up in panic mode... I am taking a long break or hiatus not cause I am busy or anything I am just tired to be honest. Kept telling myself that short breaks from tumblr would work but it never really did unfortunately. Not gonna go into the specifics short reason is that I burned myself out enough that even opening tumblr is stressful. I am always thinking about when I could post this next fic even tho I told myself that i would relax a little TvT

It is nothing personal really, just tired and yeah. I might come back but I know saying that would only put the pressure back up again. So I am just gonna say that I am still on break, when I come back to posting writing here I don't know. I am still here if someone sends an ask I will reply and I am still writing. When it comes to posting stuff dunno maybe after 4 months or maybe next year again I am still alive and I will talk about some stuff that I am currently writing.

But if I am gonna come back, I am gonna start with a clean slate so I am going to delete all the ask. Another one of my pressure is the fact that I have ask that I always wanted to reply but just lost interest after so long. I had so many plans and so many things that I wanted to finish heck the event that I did over a year ago I have yet to finish. I placed so much stuff on my shoulders and bit off more than I could chew. I do apologize really that I wasn't able to finish everything that I promised. Sorry but at the same time thank you so much for all your support really.

Again still in tumblr just not active outside checking notifications. But we shall see what happens later I guess!

[delightfulcollectivetyphoon]

WOOP WOOP guess whos baaaaaaack. anyways yeah. ik i promised knifeplay but I SWEAR ON PAPA HET it will be in the next part. only after reading did i realize how bad i am at writing p in v smut. please reply and reblog if you like my fic ! <3

warnings: extreme dubcon (like seriously im blurring the line between dub and non but like its all 100% consensual they're just roleplaying), p in v, hair pulling, squirting, dacryphilia, post-kink-action consent (again roleplaying a dubcon situation), pet names, i need to have his children *cough cough* i didn't say anything, james refers to reader as "my perfect little girl" not in a ped0ph1l1c way but like in size ykwim, morning-aftercare, soft!james (aaaaaa), fluff, he bathes her, food

dear fucking god this started to get really (really) dark but i stopped myself but lmk if u guys want dark stuff!<3

"Won't everyone else hear us?" you asked nervously.

"Ah no, they're all gettin' shitfaced at some bar probably."

You grinned at his remark and let him lead you to his room.

The walls were black wood panels running vertically. The paint was rubbed away at a few spots, and the furniture was just the same. A king-size bed lay in the middle, with the headboard touching the wall and the footboard jutting out just shy of the center of the room. There were two identical small dressers directly across from the bed, and a red easel mirror separating them. You let out a small gasp as you took in your surroundings. It truly was a gorgeous room, and you felt as if you desperately needed to live here. As you were distracted, James took the time to observe you, grinning at your child-like wonder. He too had been amazed at how beautiful it had been. He knew that he needed someone to share it with. One thing you noticed was that the headboard was made oddly; instead of one flat board of wood, it had been carved at the top into an ornate pattern, and the middle of it had a checkered cutout. You instantly knew that it wasn't just a headboard, it was specifically to be tied to. You swallowed hard, thinking about being tied up, unable to escape, forced to succumb to him, to let him have you in every way possible. He noticed your special interest in the bedframe and told you so.

"Yeah, I like it too. Its gotta be my favorite thing in the whole house," he spoke. He chuckled, then walked up to your back. He leaned down to whisper, "well, not my favorite thing." You sighed at being called his favorite thing. The thought that you could just be his toy drove you insane, whimpering for more. If he noticed your turmoil, he didn't show it. Instead, he backed away from you and fiddled with his pocketknife through the denim. He knew exactly what to do with it, he just had to do it. That was gonna be the tricky part. Once your mind left the room and focused back on James, you remembered what you were here for. For him. For the pleasure he would send shooting down every nerve in your body. You blushed at the thought of you cumming around him, screaming his name, growing more and more overstimulated as he chases his own high, not caring that you had reached yours first. You turned to face him, your heart nearly beating out of your ribcage.

"I'm ready."

He strode towards you, a smug look on his face.

"Tell me, what are you ready for?"

"...I...want you to fuck me. I was nervous before, in the woods, because I didn't know what this would be like, but I know I'll like it." You grinned as you leaned forward, standing on your toes to reach his lips. At first, he resisted, just to see how desperate you were. But one swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip convinced him. He grabbed the backs of your thighs, and you understood, allowing yourself to be hefted into his arms. You hooked your ankles together behind his back, you dug them in as you felt his cock, straining against the fabric. You loved the feeling of the rough material on your soft clit, but you remembered his rule. He pulled away. "I've been waiting for that. Waiting for you. Waiting, watching, I can never tell the difference." He dove down to your neck, licking at the bruises. He started towards the bed, gently laying you on the soft blanket. He began grinding himself against your thigh, thrusting wildly. After all, you had denied him earlier. However, he wasn't going to let himself go just yet. He detached himself from your throat as he pulled his cock back out of his jeans, still throbbing and angry from its ruined release. He moaned as he felt his hand tug his length, he needed to cum, and he needed it now.

"On your hands and knees, pretty girl."

You complied as you could feel the throbbing start between your legs again. Soon, you had your nose pressed into his bush again, and you were choking around him. He didn't offer words of encouragement this time. He wasn't going to wait any longer. He had an iron grip on your hair as he fucked your mouth. He was a grunting, sweaty mess by the time you could fell his head pulsing at the back of your throat. You tried to pull away again, to tease him again, but he was smarter this time, not letting you go. He continued until you could feel the hot, salty cum dripping down your throat, filling up your mouth. He came with a moan, the sound imprinting itself into your very soul, echoing in your ears. Once he had caught his breath, he tilted your head up, still holding your hair, and told you to open your mouth.

"Swallow."

You obeyed. You opened again to show him, and he grinned.

"Such a good slut for me, my little girl," he cooed as he stroked your sore scalp.

"Since you've been fairly good, you want me to fill up that tight little cunt? You want me to make you scream my name, cum all over me like the little whore you are?"

You moaned at his words and nodded, eyes clouded with lust. You were drunk. You hadn't touched a bottle since the concert, but you were drunk. On him, on the way he so lovingly degraded you, how you knew he would take care of you in the best ways, how he would love you in the worst.

"I want to be yours."

There it was. The look you had seen onstage, the wolf's glare as he stalks his prey. Those 5 words had transported him somewhere else. They made him someone else. Mine. The word rang through his head as he took you in. On your knees, hands folded in your lap, a lustful look on your face. You were almost made to be dominated. He decided he would make you obey. You would obey his every command. He would get what he wanted, no matter the cost. You were his. His little fucktoy. He grabbed your cheeks in one hand, earning a strangled gasp from you.

"You're gonna regret saying that sweetheart," he sneered as he pushed you on your back. You couldn't see him as you heard his clothing hit the floor, but you knew he would have the hottest body. He leaned forward, chain swinging from his neck just less than a foot above you. He positioned himself between your legs, and you instinctively wrapped them around him. You wanted nothing more than to kiss him as he inserted himself, but he wanted to be inside you as soon as possible. He needed to feel you practically split in two from his girth. He needed to see tears running down your cheek as you tried to distinguish pain from pleasure. His wish was granted as he locked hands with you, and slowly pushed himself inside. He watched as you tried to escape the stretch, the excruciating pain.

"Shhhh, I know, I know. It's gonna be okay," he said in a calming voice as you groaned through your teeth. He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and wiped a stray tear from your cheek. It was a few minutes before he bottomed out, but it felt like an hour. Every couple of inches or so, he would stop and let you adjust. It took all of his will to not slam right into you and rail you straight in oblivion. He knew damn well if he did, you wouldn't be able to walk properly for at least a couple weeks, and that wasn't even his ego talking. He continued to caress your cheek as he stared at your entrance, how nicely he stretched you. As soon as he could feel your wetness against his pelvis, he slowly pulled out, assuring you through the pain. He repeated his process several times, before you finally spoke up.

"Fuck me, please, faster" you half-whispered. More tears had accumulated at the corners of your eyes, spilling over the edge and collecting in your hair.

"It's gonna hurt for a few minutes, but I promise I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good. I promise." He slowly picked up his pace, careful to move in as straight a line as possible. He still held your hands in his own. He squeezed tighter as he pushed in, and slowly released as he came back out. You tried to remain as quiet as possible, but it was no use. The only sounds in the room were your moans, his pants, and your pelvis colliding with his. He would lean down and kiss you every once in a while, and could feel his tummy colliding with yours, which almost made you cum on the spot. You found pleasure in the way his bush brushed against your clit upon bottoming out. Your vision was foggy, your legs were almost numb. He was right. You were in pure fucking euphoria, and you hadn't even cum yet. You watched him watch himself drill into your hole. His eyes only left when you freed yourself of his grip and reached your hands around his neck, bringing him in, close enough so you could whisper.

"aa...aaaaa.... Jamie....fuck.... feel so fucking good......aaaaaaaa"

He threw his head back, reveling in the accelerated pleasure. Your whimpers and moans, badly masked, pushed him way closer to the edge than they should've. You could feel the coil tightening, looking at the sweat running down his forehead, arms locked and flexed, the only thing keeping him upright. The way his chain bounced against his chest, even shinier with sweat. You came right then and there, squirting all over his abdomen and thighs. You nearly passed out. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as you convulsed, the hot liquid taking him by surprise.

"Ah fuck yeah.... just like that....thats my good girl.....fuck"

He began to rub at your clit, sending you into overdrive, making you clench as hard as possible. You screamed as he came, coating your walls. He only fucked you faster. He held onto your waist, bruising the skin, His moans were the only thing keeping you conscious.

"Fuck, thats my good fucking girl.........so fucking perfect...... fuck baby.."

He craned his neck, trying to focus on anything, anything other than your fucked-out features. He knew that the second he laid eyes on you, he would cum again. He pulled out just in time, groaning at the loss of stimulation. Your eyes were glazed over as you reached for him, pulling him into a bear hug. You cried into his shoulder as your walls fluttered around the mix of your cum. You could feel it leaking out as he pulled you upright, pressing kisses all over your face, licking the stray tears away. He stroked your back as you both caught your breath, recovering from your brain-melting orgasms.

"You were so good for me. So perfect. My perfect little girl."

You basked in his praise, still unable to fully form words, let alone sentences. You smiled up at him as he stroked your hair.

"Well, I don't know about you, but a bath sounds pretty damn good right about now." You nodded at him as he looked to you for an answer. He smiled softly and stood, walking to the bathroom across the hall. As soon as you heard water running, you fell asleep. You weren't sure how long you had slept, but the sun was shining through the window when you awoke. You tried to sit up, but your core throbbed. As soon as the pain washed over you, you remembered what had happened the night before. Ohmigod. After finding a massive t-shirt, you limped out of the bedroom. You didn't know where the kitchen was, but after exploring, you had finally found it. James was sitting down, eating a bowl of cereal and some eggs. He smiled as you entered the room. You offered him a grin as you slowly sat next to him, holding in a groan as you hit the chair. He put an arm around you, which you gladly accepted, and snuggled into his chest, almost falling asleep again.

"How are you feeling?"

"Feels like you're still in me," you grumbled. You winced as the words left your mouth. You had screamed yourself hoarse last night. His hand ran up and down your arm, trying to ease at least some pain. He chuckled at the remark.

"Well, was it worth it?"

You looked up, unsure of his question.

"What do you mean?"

"Whatever you think it means. Regrets?"

"None," you whispered as you kissed his cheek. A few minutes passed, which you filled with sharing his cereal.

"Oh, uh by the way, I ran a bath last night because I wasn't sure if you had any more energy left for it, but the offer still stands."

"Ugh, fine," you teased as you made your way to the bathroom. You were just reaching for the faucet, when you heard footsteps behind you. James pulled you back by the waist, placing you by the door.

"Nuh uh. I'm doing this. You just work on brushing your hair. I'll wash it, and your body too, if you want. You need to rest."

Your heart almost shattered at how caring he was. You couldn't stop grinning as you ran his brush through your hair. When you were done, you took off the shirt and slowly climbed in. The water was hot enough that you immediately went limp and groaned. God, this was amazing. It soothed your skin, made all the pain drift away like smoke in the wind.

"I don't think I've seen anyone enjoy a bath as much as you," he taunted. You opened your eyes to find him on his knees in front of the tub, hands resting on his thighs.

"Shut up, Hetfield," you smiled.

He held up his hands in defense, laughing. After what only felt like a few minutes of idle chit-chat, he began to pump shampoo into his hands, working up a lather. You pulled the shower curtain back farther and lifted your head off the edge of the tub, to give him better access. As soon as his hands began massaging your scalp, you felt a wave of contentment settle over you. You shifted so that your back was to him. He grabbed a towel off the shelf and put it against the side of the tub so you could lean your head back. He didn't care that he was getting soapy water all over his pants, he was just happy that you were happy. He continued massaging your head in silence. He could've sworn you fell asleep more than once, just while he was shampooing. He guided your head up, grabbed the sprayer, and, while holding a washcloth over your eyes, so as to not get any soap in them, rinsed your hair. He moved on to conditioner, brushing through your hair as he did so. He left the conditioner to settle as he lightly ran a loofa over your body, being extra careful around your labia and vulva. He could still see his handprints on your ass, and tracing them, asked, "do these still hurt?"

"They're just a little sore, but you can wash them."

He slowly ran the loofa across your ass, slightly proud that they were still there. He kept that to himself and carried on. Once you had been rinsed off, he helped you out of the tub and dried you off. He guided you to the bedroom, where he pulled a bag from under the bed.

"This morning, I drove down to a Walmart a few miles out and got you some stuff."

He pulled out a fresh pair of panties, and some pajamas.

"I figured we could just have a day in, if you have nothing else to do."

Your heart felt like it was going to erupt at any second. You teared up as you approached him. He could see your emotion and reached out his arms. He embraced you, running a hand through your hair, as you cried into his shoulder. You hadn't had this type of treatment from past lovers, and you never expected him to do all this for you. Especially when you thought this was just a one-night stand.

"What is it?"

"No one's ever done this for me. You're the first. The bath, the clothes. You're just so sweet, even to a one-night stand."

He looked confused as you spoke the last three words.

"Do you want this to be a one-night stand? 'Cause I don't."

"Are you sure?"

"Pff, why would I not be?"

You simply buried your face back in his chest. You stood like that for a few minutes, glad to have this time with him.

You eventually pulled away, unpackaging your clothes. You slid on the underwear and pajamas. He led you to the living room and sat you on the sofa. He went back to the kitchen, grabbing the snack foods he had gotten from Walmart. He came back out with a couple of boxes of cereal, some milk, some candy, and a massive tub of Moose Tracks ice cream. You snatched the ice cream and a spoon as soon as he set them down. He grabbed the second spoon, and you both worked on the tub as you watched trashy reality TV. God, this man was perfect.

[thefirstknife]

Alright the new Veil Log is so fucking insane. I am completely not normal right now. Personal video because DLV hasn't uploaded yet, transcript from me as well:

Chioma: Chioma Esi, research log: Lakshmi-2. Osiris: What?! Chioma: Maya's... I don't even know what to say. I'd recused myself from further experiments. Told her to take some time off. She refused. And she... the minute I wasn't there, she started hauling the braindead Exos out of cold storage. Hooking them up to the veil interface. She burned through dozens of them. Reversed the entire machine's design. Used a chorus of braindead Exos to funnel data down to the conductor seat, projecting a mental imprint. Hers. I... I didn't know Lakshmi-2, but Maya did. And now she's... she's made this thing. It speaks with her voice. Has some of her memories. The way it looks at me... It's like it knows something I don't. Nimbus: Osiris, do you recognise that name? "Lakshmi"? Osiris: Yes... and no. Lakshmi-2 was an Exo and once-leader of a faction on Earth known as the Future War Cult. She died over a year ago. But she never once made mention of any of this. Of Neomuna, of... Maya. Did she know? Did she remember? This is all as much of a revelation to me as it is to you. It throws everything she did while in the Last City into question. Nimbus: I mean, with... if she was a copy of Dr. Sundaresh, then... is she really dead? Osiris: I don't know. For now, I must deliver a rather uncomfortable report to Ikora.

I genuinely don't know where to begin. I am absolutely losing my mind about this to such a degree, this is personally my favourite reveal in the recent years in Destiny.

Lakshmi-2 is a copy of Maya Sundaresh. She was made by Maya, hooking up braindead Exos to the Veil and using the power to create a "mental imprint" of herself and implanting it into one of the braindead Exos, that of Lakshmi-2. Lakshmi's voice is Maya's voice and she had some of Maya's memories. Lakshmi is essentially a version of Maya, with a copy of Maya's consciousness made with the Veil.

Lakshmi-2 becoming a leader of the Future War Cult is just Maya going back to her roots; Maya MADE the FWC. Lakshmi's obsession with the Device and looking into it is just Maya's obsession with the Veil. I am so shocked right now because I've spoken about the possible connection between the FWC Device and the Veil in April. Before any of this new data. What the hell. I'm pretty sure this is how Maya heard herself name the Veil; by looking through the Veil, she could connect with her other consciousness. I initially thought it might be with her simulated selfes; that might still also be correct, but in this specific case she may have heard herself, as Lakshmi, while exploring the Device. In the post I linked above, I specifically drew the connection because of a lore tab from vanilla D1 which I noted is probably just some old stuff, but that there's a possibility this old stuff is deliberately being made relevant again:

At 11:33 she reported the sensation we have called "The Opening Of The Veil." The Device recorded temporal displacement of her consciousness to the order of six degrees.

This seemed just like something that may look like more than it is, but with the knowledge that Lakshmi-2 was on Earth, back in charge of the FWC and running more experiements... Yeah. This has to be relevant. It has to.

Lakshmi ofc never spoke of Neomuna so it's unclear if she had those memories or if maybe they were removed when she was sent to Earth. Also when did she come back to Earth? Had to have been early enough to experience the destruction of Old London. Possibly in a team with Stargazer when Stargazer went to Earth to delete the records of Neomuna?

Either way, I'm gonna be insane about this for a long time. So much potential here for so much stuff. Really interesting that Nimbus asked if she's really dead; what if we could interact with Maya again, somewhere, somehow? Her copies are everywhere, after all. Not just as Lakshmi and possibly more, but also her Vex copies.

[nights-nonsensical-ramblings]

I wish my brain wasn't so convinced everyone is just putting up with me and is happier when im not around. Like I've had a friend in the past who literally every singe day promised to meet at a specific spot at lunch and never showed up, then on the bus home they told me they forgot and when i eventually decided to go looking i found them with a large group all laughing and having fun, and again they forgot, so there is precedent there. (I didn't try joining the group cuz something in my brain tells me that if a friend goes somewhere else of course they dont want that annoying person following them and if they wanted anything to do with me they would've gone to the old place or whatever) And after I found out that my former best friend had been doing a bad thing i went silent to try and process it and even though we were messaging that very morning they never once tried to contact or question where i went. so i guess that means If i falter in a relationship for even a moment im gonna be written off.

I try so hard to make stuff so it gives people a reason to stick around, try to make my stuff in ways i know they like, remove things they dont like or even its just lower on their preferences but now cuz of how damn guilty i feel interacting with a thing i know a friend doesn't like. Hell theres this song my old friends used to clown on all the time and i liked it, but i dont know how much i like it cuz of how wrong i felt finding some level of enjoyment in it, and even though its been years and im not friends with these people anymore i feel i have to logically justify why i like it even just to myself, And its not like they did anything to me, its all my dumb brain.

I guess it makes sense. I've grown up with people who would yell at me for saying the letter 'H' and 'Z' wrong or 'hey the thing you cooked is making us feel sick' got called ungrateful cause 'at least i cooked' or 'hey what time will you be picking me up' also caused flying off the handle. So yeah, makes sense that i'd feel like there was a wrong way to interact, and if i get it wrong the other person will be mad at me and would even less want to be around me.

[hamliet]

Love your blog, Hamliet and also your take on theology. What do you think about Jezebel and Vashti? Now, as Christian myself, I've been told since childhood to not grow up to be like both queens above but become like Eshter and Ruth. But as I grew older, I started to think differenly of those two queens. I grew to like their characters and think they are more interesting than Eshter and Ruth (not that I think badly of the later, I also like them).

What do you think?

Hi! Thank you for this ask; I love talking about Biblical narrative!

To start with, I'm gonna chat about Vashti-Esther, and Jezebel, under the cut. But first I'm gonna go to bat for my girl Ruth, because she is so not the "good girl" modern Christians depict her as. Her story is so much more complex, and there's a reason a lot of modern churches ignore talking about the Jewish context.

Ruth: Brave, Bold, Thirsty

Ruth is a go-getter. Ruth didn't patiently wait like a meek girl. Ruth took her destiny into her own hands--with her mother-in-law's guidance.

See, when Ruth goes to lie down with Boaz at night and uncovers his "feet," she didn't uncover his feet. Feet is a euphemism. It is indisputably his penis.

Like, Christians rarely talk about this because they don't want to acknowledge it because it goes against their image of Ruth. But they also don't have a counter for it because it factually is Ruth, y'know, having agency.

So, Ruth is trying to seduce Boaz, because she knows he likes her. And being crafty about it, because if someone catches her there, Boaz (being an honorable man which she already knows he is), even if they haven't had sex he'll have to marry her because everyone will think they have. Genius.

And despite people trying to say Boaz and Ruth are too honorable so clearly it was just about marriage and nor her actually attempting to initiate premarital sex, the Bible expressly has another widow called honorable for initiating premarital sex that actually happens (with her father-in-law no less) specifically to ensure her survival when she would else wise have been left childless and abandoned. tl;dr: Ruth was attempting to seduce Boaz. That's the obvious meaning of this, and whoever wrote the story wasn't obsessed with getting the audiece to think otherwise.

Thematically, also, Ruth going outside of the norms of what is considered moral (via asking for sex before marriage, even if there is an understanding that sex would lead to marriage) is kind of a major tie-in with the other aspect of Ruth's story: she's a foreigner. The Law frowns on marrying foreigners for the most part. Yet, by going outside the normal parameters, they get King David and later, for Christians, Jesus himself.

Ruth left her homeland after losing her husband and stuck with her mother-in-law, knowing that doing so meant that she had no future (she would need children to provide for her in her old age; as a foreigner, she likely wouldn't be able to marry again and have kids. But she went with Naomi so that Naomi wouldn't be alone, because she could ensure Naomi had someone to take care of her at the very least, without any hope for herself).

But when she saw a chance to secure her future, she took it. And Naomi encouraged her to do so. Ruth is brave, and smart, and kind. And Boaz is also a good man who not only helped Ruth, but didn't take advantage of her desperation on the threshing room floor. He didn't have sex with her, and he forbade others from talking about her coming there. Instead he went about it the honorable and human-affirming way--marrying Ruth according to traditional cultural customs, at the city gates.

In other words, Boaz said this isn't going to be a shameful, backroom thing. He says, I'm going to make it public, because I'm proud to have you as my wife.

Honestly, healthiest couple in all of Scripture.

Others below!

Esther and Vashti: Bringing Good from Bad

Esther and Vashti I see as a story about making the best of a terrible situation. Vashti deserves no hate, and I do see Christians coming around to that as well. I mean, her husband essentially said come parade yourself naked in front of all my drunk friends. Sounds like he wanted an orgy, or at the very least public sex with her. And she said no, like she should have. King, you're gross. Vashti did nothing wrong.

But Ahasuerus is kinda portrayed like a... very passionate but not very wise person throughout the story. So not really surprising. But the point also is that while he doesn't want to acknowledge his stupidity or allow a woman to counter his authority, he does eventually not only pardon Esther when she flouts his authority by entering without permission, but comes up with a counter to his previously issued decree to slaughter the Jews. A king can't go back on his word, but he can give others power to counter it when he's wrong. Which is kind of the main theme--making the best out of a shitty situation.

Esther is then taken from everyone she's ever known and forced to become a concubine wherein most of the girls around her will be used once, probably not get pregnant, and live the rest of their lives alone and untouched in the king's harem. But Esther, like Ruth, is clever. She asks for advice from the eunuchs to endear herself to the king because she wants more than a life of luxury and loneliness. Because of her attempts to save herself from a fate that, on the surface, isn't nearly as terrible as what Ruth was facing but is still emotionally devastating, she ends in a perfect position to save all of her people from annihilation.

Jezebel (and Athaliah): A Critique of Power

Jezebel... well, she's kind of portrayed as vain and cruel. Plus she murders some people whenever they flout her authority. So she's not like, a morally awesome person.

That said, I always felt sorry for her. She also clearly wanted power and lived in a society where women had little say and little power, even as queen, which is probably why she lashes out so brutally at those who threaten her power and position--the vineyard owner, the prophets, etc.*

But instead of Jezebel being seen as a sign for how marriages to foreigners is a way of corrupting the Israelites with foreign gods, I wonder whether the story would be different if people had treated Jezebel more of as a potential Ruth, as a human being, instead of just a symbol of political power.

Because that's what she was--her marriage is a symbol of power for King Ahab and for her father. I see her corruption and cruelty as a condemnation far more of what happens when we focus on gaining political power than what happens when we marry the wrong person or whatnot. And also, like, maybe the way women were treated may have led to her desperation for power. Just maybe.

Along those lines, I also wonder if the prophets had been less condemning of her as a person and more corrective (and if her husband wasn't himself such a spineless meatbrain), if her story might have been more of an Esther's.

But patriarchy is far more interested in condemning Jezebel as a whore despite like, there being no record of that, rather than in, like, examining their own human desire for control and political power and how that can corrupt (but also! doesn't! have! to! see Esther).

*Like, Jezebel's flaw being her focus on power is very clear not just in her actions but her daughter Athaliah's--Athaliah marries the king of Judah and then massacres all his sons to take the crown for herself, with only one son, a baby, surviving thanks to a princess named Jehoshabeath, who was married to the chief priest, smuggling him out. Later on there's a coup and Joash, the son, reclaims his father's throne. Yes, the classic fantasy trope of secret son reclaiming a father's throne is partially Biblically based.

[theroundbartable]

If you don't mind me asking, can I ask your top favorite fics that you've written (feel free how much that you want to list)? Why they're special to you? Is there a specific inspiration when you wrote them?

Ooooooh, that is a very good question.

On my ao3 count, I currently have 125 published works. 3 of them are works in progress, one of them is discontinued. (I have a rather good publish - actually finishing ratio.)

I'm gonna list a few but in no particular order. It's just my personal highlights. For a full fic list, you can find my stories on ao3, aka, HERE.

No... just no (Merthur)

For some reason, out of all of my fics, this one is the most popular (so far). The idea was that Merlin is caught doing magic and just thinks: Lol, I'm Emrys, whatcha gonna do? kill me? I'm immortal, lmao. The inspiration was that I just wanted Merlin to carry on with his life when Uther tries to kill him and fails every time.

Connecting the dots (Merthur)

While this one doesn't have the best world building, it was definitely the most fun to write. The brainstorming had me laughing at work like an insane mad man. I loved working on this one, it made me very happy. The premise is that the knights make up stories to explain the strange things that happen in Camelot. It's a game, like D&D and they accidentally end up being right. Somehow I turned Gwaine into a god and the whole D&D game into a religion were people get babtized when you put them in the stocks. It makes no sense but it's so absurd that it's funny again XD

Chosen (Merthur)

This one is depressing but it marks a certain change in my writing style. When I wrote this, or rather, AFTER I wrote this, I swore to myself to only ever write happy endings again. This one really hurts, so I wouldn't advise to read it ;)

I realised how my writing influences my own mood and what I needed to do to keep myself happy. And that making myself happy is a good thing!

Clockroom (Merthur)

This is my oldest ongoing project that requires an enormous amount of work. Because of historical research, working with literal transcripts of the episodes, and because it's timetravel and time travel is IMPOSSIBLE to write... at least well... at this length.

Reversed (Merthur)

The premise is that everyone knows Merlin has magic - except Merlin. Before I wrote this, I actually had writers block, so I told myself: You always think backwards. How can you make BBC Merlin backwards? This was the result.

And I really think that this is one of the best fics I've ever written. Merlin's stubbornness and the way magic works in this fic have really influenced later one shots, but this one is very special to me because it wasn't meant to turn out as deep as it has.

The magic realm (Merthur)

Likely my best world buidling concept, challenged only by Dragon island. Well except for Incarnation but that's a novel I'm working on, not a fic. The idea is that the day Merlin loses his magic, Arthur is ready to turn to magic for help. Gaius sends them into the magic realm to learn magic there. Only that Merlin IS magic and so everything in there is connected to him in some way. I loved how the characters turned out and how magic is seen, depending on who is looking at them.

Mirror of truth (Merthur)

This one was an accident, really. Originally, Merlin was meant to be Camelot's champion, but then I thought about borders and how would the mirror know how to show Merlin and I got so deep into it that I eventually realised that Merlin couldn't be Camelot's champion at all. It was mind blowing. As I believe it is to you when you read the summary:

Every ten years or so a tournament is held between all the five kingdoms. In which one (strongest of the kingdom) sorcerer is chosen as a representative of their king/queen/crown bearer. The monarchs, however, do not choose the sorcerer for themselves, which Arthur is thankful for, since magic is still banned in Camelot. Instead, they are chosen by the mirror of truth. It shows the face of the strongest sorcerer in said lands, so Arthur can reach out to them. When the mirror finally chooses the participants, Camelot's champion is......... well i mean, who is the strongest magic user in Camelot? Exactly! It's Morgana. After all, Merlin was born in Cendred's kingdom.

8. The eternal suffering (Leon & George)

This one is special because it's not about Merthur. This is a fic that marks me as one of the two first people within this fandom who wrote Leon & (servant) George fanfics. And I am very proud to have coinvented this ship (although I'm more inclined towards them being entirely platonic). The idea was that I saw many parallels between Leon's and George's character and started imagining them complaining about their jobs to each other.

9. Everything I do, I do for you. (Merthur)

This one isn't even good. The reason this one is dear to me, is because of how much honesty and truth I put into these words. It was inspired by real life and I should warn you before you read it. It's a bit heavy. This one and Regent have the same/ similar orgigins and themes and may be the most painful for me personally to revisit.

10. Haunted (Merthur)

The ghost!Arthur Au no one asked for. It switches between funny moments and heartbreaking pasts and I think it's one of my better paced and thought through fics.

I just often keep wondering what Arthur does in Avalon and then I sometimes wonder, what if he didn't go there at all?

11. Free Delivery (Merthur)

This one is definitely one of my better thought through fics. I made notes and everything! Haha XD This one was inspired by DIrty Laundry, THE Klance fanfiction. I was rereading it and it somehow - I dunno - developed into this fic.

12. The Joker (Klance)

I can't believe how old this one is. Personally, I liked Alternative realities better, but people keep commenting on this one more. And well... comments inspire. That's why I've started a new fic in the godforsaken year of 2024. The Joker was just me mary sueing Lance. Because why not?

13. Second Chances (Drarry)

So far, this is my only Drarry fic and it is the LONGEST fic I've ever written. Including the clockroom. This one has been 2 years in the making and over 300 pages and I am TIRED. Anyways, I hope I'll be able to finish this one eventually. Otherwise my gf will kill me, I'm afraid XD

The idea is that Draco is a therapist, because I love psychoanalysing him and I wondered what he would do with himself after the war. I also tend to write time travel on accident, so that happened too. This was once supposed to be a one shot. Can you believe it?

I think 13 is a good hill to die on. Thank you for the ask, anon ^^

[kopivie]

oh boy, a sentimental vent from cinna? again? shut up already! (i will not.)

so, i met my stepfather when i was about four years old.

i absolutely hate referring to him as my stepfather, btw. he's my father, dammit.

the funniest thing to me is the fact that i have a very distinct memory of the time we went to a waterside park when i was young and he taught me how to skip rocks. well, he tried to teach me. i couldn't do it then, and i still can't do it now, but i remember thinking he was so cool. that memory is tucked away inside my head in the safest place. but the funny thing about that memory is that i always swore i had known my dad for at least a year when we went to that park. turns out that wasn't the case – according to my mom, that was actually the very first day i had met him.

i feel like that says a lot about how i saw him from the get-go. i was still my mother's only child at the time, so if her boyfriends didn't get along with me, then she wasn't going to keep them around. apparently i told my mom that we absolutely had to see him again, so she trusted him and... the rest is history. as for my dad, he told me that that was the day he fell in love with me; i was his daughter from that moment forward.

i'm over here getting misty-eyed. i love my dad so much, y'all don't understand. 🥹

anyway! after that day, i'd go over to his apartment and he introduced me to video games! this was ~2005-2006, so the wii wasn't really out yet, but the dreamcast, playstation 2, and xbox already were.

i get my love of video games from my dad. in order to warm me up to being around him in close quarters, he let me play so many games — games that i hold near and dear to my heart to this day. marvel vs. capcom 2 for the dreamcast, jak and daxter for the playstation 2, and a litany of xbox games are the earliest ones i can remember. (specifically jet set radio future, halo 2, prince of persia, and dead or alive 2 for the xbox.)

and then, when the wii came out, he practically gave me full ownership of the console. i wasn't a nintendo kid initially, but i certainly was after 2006. super mario galaxy 1 and 2, mario sports mix, mario super sluggers, mario strikers charged, mario and sonic at the olympic games...

i really like mario games, okay?

god, it was so much fun being a kid. when he introduced me to his other kids, we bonded over video games! his youngest son at the time and i played so much that to this day, we still recall being super competitive and crazy over those old games. cooking mama, the olympic games, sports games (including wii sports), mario kart, fighting games... hell, even little big planet was a competition.

my brother is older than me, but he never mocked me for playing poorly with him. he never judged me, never bragged... of course, losing and/or coming in second all the time didn't exactly feel good, but i never stopped trying to be good at games while my brother was away.

but he had video games too, so... i was never gonna beat him at anything. that doesn't make playing alongside him any less fun.

all in all, video games brought me closer to my dad and my brother. and even now, my younger siblings and i bond over video games; every now and again, my little sister will text me to play splatoon together. because of my experience with competitive splatoon, i used to give her advice on how to improve. i don't play comp anymore (not really), but she's definitely taken some of my advice to heart. i never berate her for messing up nor do i micromanage her play style. we play games together because we love each other, and that's all there is.

why say all this, cinna?

well, nintendo finally decided to release their own music app. it doesn't include songs from every title ever, but the super mario galaxy soundtrack is on there. super mario galaxy was the very first game that i challenged myself to complete in its entirety. the game holds up to this day, so much so that nintendo put the first game on the switch.

literally begging on my knees for them to put super mario galaxy 2 on the switch... and every mario wii game, actually. BEGGING.

the soundtrack is absolutely gorgeous. one thing about nintendo's most iconic games is that they will NEVER miss with the music. (same goes for sega.) so i'm about to do work with the music of my childhood playing in my ears and i'm just... feeling sentimental.

my dad and i had a falling out recently, but after we made up, we became closer than ever. (mind you, the falling out lasted no more than two or three hours. we made up before sundown.) so every time i'm reminded of these older games, i think if my dad and how much of a gamer i turned out to be because of him.

tldr: in the words of that one tiktok audio: i fuckin' love my dad.

[rogueddie]

Thats what I realised as I was typing that ask! Like does anyone actually ever tell him about the Demogorgon lurking around his house? Does Jonathan ever explain how he came to be taking pictures there? Nancy goes straight to find Jonathan after she finds the Demogorgon at Steve's house again but does she tell him later? Or is he left thinking that the Demogorgon was only there to take barb? That his life was only in danger that one time rather than the reality that it was lurking all that time

It would add another dimension to his reluctance to talk about what happened in season 2 not only because someone died at his house and it could've also been Nancy when she went to look for answers when he wasn't there but it also could've been him. And his parents aren't home so unless it happened before they came home to lecture him about the party, it could've been awhile before anyone realised because he doesn't have anyone to keep looking for him like barb and will had oh god I'm gonna be thinking about this all night now

no bc the more I think about it the more like... what does Steve actually know? I need to do a rewatch bc do they actually know that Barb died specifically in Steves pool? I mean, they know she's dead and I assume Jonathan would tell Nancy that she went missing in Steves garden, but Will survived so long in the Upside Down that they might have assumed she ran for some time or something???? I'm driving myself up the wall.

It definitely would make Steves reluctance to talk about any of it so much more sympathetic. Especially because no one would have told him about that until after. That would be a nasty spiral too; not only are monsters from other dimensions real, he can't trust anyone, he inadvertently got someone killed and, oh yeah, his home was never safe bc the monster was coming into their dimension via the trees in his back yard and- not only could he have died with no one to look for him- but with how often his parents seem to go away that it's normal, would he have actually noticed if they were missing... Jesus fucking christ, is all I'm gonna say to that.

[sagemoderocklee]

do you have any behind the scenes commentary on kado?

ok bts for kado... i honestly wasn't excpecting this so im trying to gather my thoughts which is hard rn post work...

so its possible ive talked about this before but i was very specific in the way i structured kado. i based the structure on Ikebana itself. so it could ONLY be 3 chapters (based on the Seika* style which didn't make it as a chapter title) and each chapter could ONLY have 9 scenes (based on the Rikka style of Ikebana).

if there's one thing im NOT it's good at shorter stories, but by god did i fight tooth and nail to get that story told in 3 9-scene long chapters. and it worked! i think challenging myself like that was honestly a lot of fun for me, and i think the story hit all the beats it needed to without dragging. i think sometimes with modern AUs especially they can kinda drag on with the like everyda and mundane, and like that CAN be good, but it's all in the execution and im not generally good at the execution of that sort of thing (which is often why i struggle with modern AUs).

i also picked the title kado (way of flowers) as a nod to nindo...

this isn't much and i may have already talked about this ages ago, so another thing for the bts...

Tenten was very obviously in on the arrangement Lee special ordered at the end of ch2 as his way of confessing to Gaara, but she was also the one to point out to Lee that he was completely smitten with Gaara. Lee was always visiting Gaara and he'd always come back over the moon, and Tenten teased Lee about his very obvious crush, which of course Lee denied but ya know once she'd said it... so Tenten was a guiding force for both Lee and Gaara in them getting together. And she was so pissed off at Gaara for all the obvious reasons, but also because she was feelin guilty for encouraging Lee when she thought Gaara had just broken his heart. Neji was definitely present, and he and Tenten helped Lee research the flowers to pick for his lil love confession to Gaara.

obviously after lee and gaara get together tenten is very happy about all this, but she and neji absolutely do give gaara hell for like the first couple months cause they aren't ready to believe he's not gonna hurt Lee again (gai is a LOT more gracious because of the ikebana piece gaara made and gai seeing a reflection of gaara's character in it). but neji and tenten give gaara the cold shoulder a lot and make very very subtle comments from time to time--nothing too obvious that lee would catch on, and gaara never says anything cause he understands they're being protective, but it doesn't make the first few months of them dating easy. and referencing the ask i got earlier, gaara and lee def do go on double dates with Sakura and Ino in this particular AU, and when Shikamaru and Temari finally get together them too. and when tenten and neji stop giving gaara such a hard time. they NEVER go on doubles with kankuro and hinata but they obviously do all hang out.

and Lee is Gaara's plus one to chouji's wedding.

i hope that's a fun lil bts for you anon! thanks for asking!

*from the wikipedia on Ikebana: Seika (生花, 'pure flowers') style consists of only three main parts, known in some schools as ten ('heaven'), chi ('earth'), and jin ('human'). It is a simple style that is designed to show the beauty and uniqueness of the plant itself. Formalisation of the nageire style for use in the Japanese alcove resulted in the formal shoka style.