#and i will end up demonstrating that again in the future

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

part ii (part i)

“Caden, prior to this competition I would have taken one look at you, then dismissed you. And I would have been wrong. I was never expecting you to be this good natured, easy going and simply likeable, and even Araminta conceded that you have ‘far superior manners’ than what you demonstrated during your introduction. Don’t pack your bags just yet - unless it’s to join me in Round Two. Oh, and for future reference, I like a good Malbec.”

“Struan, a couple of times I took your shyness for disinterest or playing games, and that was on me. But you’ve more than proven me wrong. I’ve never tried ginger before, and now I find myself quite partial to it. Sorry - I don’t know who in the writer’s room comes up with this shit. In short, I like you and I want to keep you. You are thoroughly genuine and unpretentious - see you next round.”

“Sage - you are an absolutely atrocious thief, but fortunately you have a better chance of stealing my heart. Uh, much like The Swings of Power, I wouldn’t be surprised if the script for this was actually written by AI - so I’ll skip the rest of it. You’re fun with just the right amount of quirkiness, and you’re also coming with me to the next round. I’ll be looking to see if we can build on what we have.”

“Briar, we have the beginnings of a beautiful friendship, but I’ve yet to see whether it could ever be anything other than that. You reacted favourably to my flirts, but you never once returned them. Still, I get that some of us need a little more preheating than others, and I definitely want more time with you. I look forward to seeing you next round.”

“Cassie, you had a lot of initial bad impressions to overcome, and while others have scored higher, I think that you’ve done well considering. You show more gumption and readiness with the farm work than I was expecting, and I want to see if you have even more surprises in store. While I can’t guarantee that you won’t be rostered yet again on cooking, I can tell you that you’re not heading home just yet. Sorry babe, but it will be a while before we end up anywhere you can get a decent latte or manicure.”

“Giovanna, you seem to have a slow-burn approach to romance that obviously isn’t well suited towards all of this, and while I’ve struggled to get a read on you, I feel as though I have enough to go on to give you what more time I can - for now. I get that not everyone is as… tactile as me, so if you’re feeling it, just give me some indication in whatever way is most comfortable to you during the next round.”

how scores were calculated

And our upper-mid to lower-mid scores are here. While I take a "the points are law" approach to this, not everything can be conveyed through them and so I chose to reflect this in Lilac's remarks.

Those who have a contestant in the bottom six, be forewarned that Lilac wants to light a fire under some of their butts and what she says to those who remain may be quite blunt - but the Watcher loves everyone in this bar.

@mdshh @lindyloosims @panicsimss

@jonquilyst @bakersimmer @ravingsockmonkey

[iamdeltas]

I apologize for being a huge butthurt SU fan on main today.

It will happen again. Probably whenever another story driven cartoon's finale occurs and people use that to bash SU too.

Honestly the only thing making that a "probably" is that I can't think of any current story driven cartoons right now.

[kurokawaia]

❛ It's your first !! Gotta be soft !! ❜

Iguro Obanai X Fem!Reader

WC; 3.4k+ (somehow)| !MDNI! | TW/CW :: nervous!reader, virgin!reader, lovesick!obanai, virgin!obanai, cherry popping, soft sex, gentle sex, oba is rlly soft and love you sm, piv, smut with plot? set in season 5 but no spoilers, kaburamaru slithers away smw when it gets heated dw

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) I was wondering if you could do reader’s first time with him, and I just head cannon Iguro to be absolutely lovesick with his partner and gentle like how he is with Mitsuri in canon so could you do it with like a nervous!reader x lovesick!Iguro’s first time doing it - ANON

this ended up being over 3k words, dont ask me how

m.list | demon slayer m.list

You had to take a break from training today, so you found yourself watching Obanai beating up the children who trained under him. However, you found yourself nervously fidgeting on the sidelines, watching Obanai as he demonstrated a particularly complex technique through the wood structures.

Your heart pounded in your chest, both from the intensity of the training and the way Obanai's gaze lingered on you whenever he thought no one was watching. Despite his stern exterior and sharp words for others, he had always been different from you—gentle, kind, and unbelievably patient.

He does love you after all.

Obanai's eyes flickered to you again, his concentration momentarily broken. The sight of you, nervously playing with the hem of your haori, made his heart ache with a longing he struggled to contain. He was lovesick for you, utterly devoted, and the thought of you consumed his mind.

As he guided the other Hashira through the rigorous exercises, his thoughts drifted to the times you spent together. The quiet moments when he could hold you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his, and the soft, timid whispers of your voice that soothed his troubled soul. He yearned for more of those moments, but there was a deeper, more primal desire that had begun to take root.

His mind wandered to the idea of having you in a more intimate way, a way you had not yet explored together. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he had to force himself to focus back on the training.

He wanted you, in every sense of the word, but he was determined to be patient, knowing your timid nature. He didn't want to rush you or make you feel uncomfortable.

The day dragged on, and the training ended. Obanai immediately sought you out, his expression softening the moment he saw you waiting for him.

"How was your day?" he asked, his voice gentle as he approached you.

"It was alright," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "Watching you was... impressive, as always."

He smiled beneath his mask, he only smiled for you. "Thank you. Let's go somewhere quiet. I want to spend some time with you."

You nodded, your heart racing as he led you away from the training grounds of his estate to the room the two of you shared. Well, you weren't currently living with him yet, but you hoped to in the future.

It was peaceful as the two of you sat outside on the edge of the path that trailed around the house, your legs dangling off of the edge, accompanied by the soft rustle of trees.

Obanai sat down, pulling you gently to sit closer beside him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "I've missed you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I missed you too," you replied, leaning into his embrace. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

He tilted your chin up, his mismatched eyes locking onto yours. "I think about you all the time," he confessed, his voice aching with longing. "I want you, in every way possible. But I don't want to rush you. I want you to be comfortable, to feel safe with me."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. "I... I feel safe with you, Obanai," you whispered, your cheeks flushing. "I'm just... nervous."

He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "That's okay. We can take things slow. I just want you to know how much I care about you, how much I love you."

You looked up at him, your eyes shining. "I love you too, Obanai. I'm just not used to feeling this way, but I want to be with you."

He pulled you closer, unravelling the bandages around his mouth, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. "We'll take it one step at a time," he murmured against your lips. "As long as we're together, that's all that matters."

But the kiss wasn't tender for too long. Obanai had slipped his tongue into your mouth and a gasp fell out of your lips. You dripped his haori in surprise, eyes momentarily widening before closing them in contentment.

Obanai's tongue was entangling with your own and you almost didn't know what to do. It obviously wasn't the first time that the two of you had made out but it still made you nervous under his touch. He was towering over you, his hand entangled in your hair as he tilted your face up and an arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

You felt as if you were going to faint when he was getting into it, more than usual, your heart was beating so fast you thought you were going to pass out. You didn't even know what to do, Obanai was dominating you in such a loving way it made your tummy swell with butterflies and an unfamiliar throbbing fall to your clit.

You were beginning to not be able to intake any breaths and you tense underneath Obanai's touch. You truly were getting more and more flustered by the minute. Leaning into Obanai's hold, you tapped quickly on his shoulder and he pulled away from the kiss alarmed, not even realising your flustered and breathless state causing his eyes to widen in worry.

He leaned back slightly to see if you were okay, mentally cursing himself for being too intense with you. Your forehead was leaning on his shoulder while your hands trembled, clenching his black and white striped haori.

"I'm so sorry," Obanai hastily uttered and in reply, you nodded your head against his shoulder.

"It's okay," you reassured quietly.

What Obanai didn't see was how red your cheeks were and how hot your body felt on the inside, this sensation was absolutely overwhelming and you didn't know what to do.

"Are you-"

You lifted your head up after a few seconds, hoping that you had calmed yourself down but it didn't really work.

"I am!" you replied, interrupting him.

Obanai's eyes widened when he saw the state of you. Your cheeks were flushed in a deep shade of a pinkish red and your hands were trembling on his shoulders. What he felt just then, what he is realising is that he can feel how hot your body is heating up.

You didn't know what this need was so you hesitantly asked Obanai, "could I... kiss you again?" you asked with a quiet voice, looking down, not wanting to meet his gaze in fear he said no.

Oh, how silly you were, you could kiss Obanai whenever you wanted, with or without asking and he would just fall even more in love with you.

Obanai's eyes softened, and he leaned down, brushing his lips against mine. "You don't need to ask," he whispered against your mouth, his voice filled with warmth and longing.

You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as our lips met once more. This time, the kiss was deeper, more intense. You could feel the electricity between us, a magnetic pull that made it impossible to resist each other.

your hands explored the contours of his back, feeling the strength and warmth of his muscles. Obanai's hands moved with a gentle but insistent touch, tracing the lines of your body, and making you shiver with anticipation.

As our bodies pressed closer, you could feel Obanai's heartbeat against mine, a steady rhythm that matched the intensity of our emotions. You wanted to memorize every sensation, every touch, knowing that this moment was a testament to the depth of our relationship.

Obanai's lips left mine, trailing a path of kisses down your neck, making you gasp with pleasure. His hands moved with a tender urgency, exploring the curves of your body with a reverence that made you feel cherished and loved.

You pulled him back up to you, our eyes locking as we paused for a breath. "I love you," You whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," he replied. "{Y/n}," he asked breathless

Obanai's hand gently cupped your cheek, lifting your chin until your eyes met. His touch was reassuring, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "Yes?" You asked softly, swallowing a lump in your throat.

"I... I want to take things further," he said, your voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability of your words hanging in the air.

Your body froze, your mind pausing whatever it was thinking about. "You... can," you whisper, gazing into his eyes, realising that what he wanted to engage with you was sex.

After walking over to the futon, Obanai laid you down carefully, as if you would break and you were a nervous wreck but Obanai soothed that. Obanai was straddling your lower abdomen and you could feel the large bulge in his hakama pants as he leaned down to kiss you.

Your tongues danced with each other before he pressed a kiss to the side of your lips and then trailed down slowly, the kisses reassuring you that you would be okay. He trailed down your collarbone and chest, making sure to leave soft, faint red marks in its wake. Throughout the entire procedure, you let out panting breaths and strengthened your grip on his body.

Your reactions only send continuous flushes of butterflies to Obanai's dick. The need that Obanai had for you was restless as he tried so hard to contain himself and be as soft with you, he didn't want to hurt you.

"Oba," you said breathlessly and he could've melted right there and then, the way you said his name sounded so much more intimate than how you would sound when it was just a simple make-out session.

Obanai lets out a hum of approval against your skin and tension ripples through your body at the vibrations as Obanai continues leaving the same soft red marks down your jaw and on your neck.

Obanai pulled away, giving you a soft kiss. "Can I... take your...." Obanai trailed off slowly and you nodded, knowing what he was referring to, your core uniform.

"Yes," you replied nervously.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Obanai reassured, placing a kiss on your lips. "I'm not forcing you."

"No! I want to," you replied almost too quickly that an embarrassed flush came to your cheeks.

You tensed when Obanai's hands trailed down to your waist, your body arching slightly into his touch. He hesitantly unbuttoned the rest of the buttons to the top and slid your pants off. You watched his eyes widen at the sight of the fabric slipping to the side of your chest and stomach. "Can I-?"

"You can," you say, cutting him off.

A breathless sigh leaves your mouth when his hot hand trailed up your lower stomach to experimentally squeeze the mounds of flesh. You let out a moan when Obanai's lips began to press and suck gently on the top of your breast. You covered your mouth embarrassed while you looked away from Obanai. "Sorry," you mumbled.

"You sound so pretty," he whispers in your ear, causing your cheeks to heat up. Obanai's free hand pulled the hand away from your mouth. He leaned up a bit, pulling you gently with him and slipped the black nemaki off your shoulders, placing the material somewhere near us before he lay you down on the mattress again.

Obanai's lips pressed against mine once more while a hand skimmed slowly down your body. you felt the tip of his finger tug only slightly at your underwear and you grasped his wrist, the kiss breaking.

"Do you want to stop? You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Obanai's reassures but you shake your head, signalling that I wasn't implying that.

"It's not that, I really want to," you replied breathlessly before an embarrassed flush rose onto your cheeks. "Could you take off your..."

"Huh? Oh, of course," Obanai hummed, his lips pressing the side of your jaw. you watched him slip himself out of sweats, you see the imprint of his dick press painfully against his underwear and you swallowed deeply before he straddled you once you. Obanai did that without any complaint, he must really love you all that much.

Obanai pressed a reassuring kiss on your jaw before the tips of his fingers pulled the cotton down your legs, the cool air of the room causing chills to tingle down your pale skin. "You're so pretty," Obanai says breathlessly causing butterflies to swirl in your stomach.

His fingers venture further down, tracing a path along your slick slit. The touch is electrifying, causing you to tremble in his hold, your body responding to his every movement. A helpless whimper escapes your lips, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that courses through you.

"So wet," Obanai mumbles before looking back up to you. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," you replied quietly, opening your eyes down to Obanai. "Please, can you... touch me more."

"I'll do whatever you want me do to," Obanai replied and you let a small smile grace your lips.

At your reply, Obanai's fingers experimentally push past v slick folds, his fingers pressing past your clit, and a surge of pleasure courses through you, leaving you breathless and desperate for more. A moan left your mouth as your back arched at his touch. your reaction caused Obanai to press down slightly more and your legs squeezed around his waist, moans stringing out your mouth.

you felt his fingers slide down and he found your seeping hols, drenched with arousal. I felt a finger slowly slide inside your heat, a whimper leaving your mouth. "Does this feel good?" Obanai asked and you nodded frantically.

"So good," you whimpered as he slowly pumped in and out your soaked walls. "Making me feel so good, Obanai."

"Really?" He asked and you moaned as he inserted another finger into your walls.

"Yeah, so so good," you whimper. "So good for me, Obanai."

The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intensity that leaves you unable to contain your moans. you press your lips against his shoulder, muffling the sounds that escape from deep within you. His fingers explore the depths of your core, igniting a fire that consumes your every thought. Each movement, each curl, sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body.

you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch, the combination of his skilled fingers and the intensity of our connection pushes you closer to the edge, teetering on the precipice of release. It's a moment of pure bliss, where time stands still, and you are consumed by the overwhelming pleasure that courses through your veins.

As Obanai fingers continued their relentless rhythm, pumping in and out of your seeping hole, there was an unfamiliar tightness growing in your lower abdomen, pleasure tightened inside your stomach. you wrap your shaky legs around him, seeking to anchor yourself to him amidst the overwhelming pleasure. your body quivers with anticipation, responding to his every touch, every movement.

you chant his name into his neck as praises leave your mouth, your voice filled with desire and need. The tears welling in your eyes are not from pain but from the overwhelming pleasure that threatens to consume you entirely.

In response to your plea, sucks the skin around your neck once more, groaning against your neck, his voice laced with desire. He begins to press your clit with the pad of his thumb, adding another layer of pleasure to the already intense sensations. The touch is electrifying, causing you to arch your back in response.

"Please, Obanai," you sob. "I need to... So good, Obanai."

"I've got you," Obanai reassured, intertwining our mouths together, his mouth swallowing the moans that slipped out your mouth.

The pleasure builds, the tension mounting with each passing second until you are on the precipice of release. It's a moment of pure surrender, where pleasure reigns supreme, and you are consumed by the overwhelming ecstasy that engulfs me.

Waves of ecstasy wash over you, leaving your legs trembling and weak from the intensity of the sensations. He slips his fingers from your hole and you continue to tremble from the aftermath of the orgasm. you managed to release yourself from Obanai's neck and move away from his hold.

"How are you feeling?" Obanai asks cupping your cheeks.

"Good," you breathe out slowly while looking into his eyes. "But, I want to make you feel good too."

"You don't need-"

"Please," you beg and you watch him swallow deeply, tension showing on his body.

Obanai asked once more. "Are you sure?"

I nod. "Please."

"Alright," He smiled gently moving off you to get himself out of his underwear and your eyes widened as you saw the size of his length. Obanai moves over you, you place your hands on his chest.

He delicately bites the shell of your ear making you let out a quiet whimper. you could feel him smile against your ear at your reaction. Obanai's touch caused you to dig your nails slightly into his chest leaving light crescent marks causing more deep exhales of breaths to get caught in your ear.

Obanai moved his head and his body suddenly firmly pressed against mine and I whimpered at the feeling of his dick pressing up against your stomach. His lips mingled with mine his minty taste and smell overflowed your senses making it a complete euphoria for you. you cupped the back of his neck to create a deeper angle for him to explore deeper into your mouth with our tongues continuing to entangle with each other.

Obanai groans into your mouth, the hand that was trailing down your thigh moved swiftly back to your waist and the other intertwined with your hair at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him. you let out breathy sighs into him as your own hand interlaced with his black and your other wrapped around behind his neck.

His other hand moved its way down to tightly lift your thigh up which made his body mould closer to mine making you feel his dick press up against your soaked core. The kiss slows down and turns soft and almost desperate it's as if he wants to take his time with you, savouring every inch of your taste, to take his sweet time to memorise you.

"You're doing so good," Obanai pants agasint your lips and I didn't have time to reply as he pressed them against you once more. "I'm going to do it now. If it hurts, please tell me, I don't want to hurt you."

"Okay," you reply.

He presses his lips against mine to take your mind off the pain that's probably soon to come. you feel a hard tip get lubricated at your entrance making your back arch into him as you let out a strangled moan of pleasure into his mouth. He continues to push further into you making your eyebrows furrow together in pain but the pleasure is still overwhelming your senses making tears prick at your eyes.

"Oh, you feel so good," Obanai whimpers into your neck. "You're so perfect."

"You feel so good," you moan. The feeling of pure ecstasy of him fully entered you, the pain gone.

you feel his dick scraping across your plush walls in all the right places as he slowly exited your cunt, but not fully. Our moans and whimpers get swallowed by each other. you feel his thrusts speed up and you moan in response, your walls clenching around him causing the grip Obanai held on your thigh and waist to tighten.

The coil in your stomach getting tighter and your moans slightly became higher. Obanai continued to groan into your neck after he pulled away from the heated kiss.

"You make- me feel so goo- d," you say moaning throughout your sentence, "Feels so good-"

"I'm close-," He groans.

"Me too," you choke out.

you felt the coil in your stomach snap as your back arched painfully into Obanai's bare chest causing Obanai to groan and his arms moved to wrap tightly around you. After a few more pumps Obanai came, letting a few more rolls of his hips into you to help ride out both our highs before he pulled out slowly, making sure not to hurt you.

Obanai slumped down beside you before he slipped the condom off his length and walked over to the bathroom with a warm, damp wash cloth to clean you up and after he did so, you did the same.

"I love you so much," you tell him as we lay down together, our legs and arms entangling, bare bodies pressed against each other.

"I love you more," Obanai replies, holding you tighter.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | demon slayer m.list

[badly-drawn-doflamingo]

Brook’s Past, Military and Everything Between [ An Essay kinda ]

Brook’s past is not a thing many people seem to mention or think about, at least in full, however it’s something that's plagued me. Not only as a Brook fan, but simply out of the odd implications it has towards the future, if any. Oda’s planted too many seeds for it to utterly be nothing; there’s so much odd and seemingly out of place comments and facts stated by Brook and others towards this missing history. However, knowing that the show is beginning to near it’s end, due to time, I am unsure of what exactly will be done.

I believe however, for folks' interest and so we can have everything in one place, that compiling everything found so far can be beneficial, so, I have.

Starting with what we know for sure, Brook is from the West Blue, born 90 years ago to a certain kingdom, the same kingdom he was a military convoy leader from. We know this due to a few factors, however it’s still open to debate if it *is* the same kingdom, however seeing as he was shown as a child to already know what fencing is, practicing moves with his bow, I am just going to say he probably was. In any case, other things worth noting, on the topic of childhood, is that Brook seems to have had money. At least, stability.

Compared to a lot of the other strawhats, Brook is shown dressing very nice. No tatters, no tears, shined shoes and a full violin and bow. He also, as already stated, seemed to be exposed to fencing enough to mirror the moves. If this comes from his kingdom, it means he was exposed to it at a young age. Knowing that he was a military convoy leader, this could be taken that perhaps there were military demonstrations, perhaps the kid saw castle guard or other displays; it’s really up in the air.

We know Brook, again as stated before, became a military convoy leader. Now, the definition of what exactly that means can differ.

Wikipedia states; A convoy is a group of vehicles, typically motor vehicles or ships, traveling together for mutual support and protection. Often, a convoy is organized with armed defensive support and can help maintain cohesion within a unit. It may also be used in a non-military sense, for example when driving through remote areas.

This could mean Brook’s job could’ve been accompanying ships for protection, being a knight for his King, mediating information and goods that come in and out of the kingdom. This would make sense on why his speed was needed, a 9.2 ft man being a great choice for a leader.

His weapon also would make sense for this kind of mission, perhaps secrecy being important or at least the ability to be discreet. His cane sword, a ‘Shikomizue’, is not unique however to just him in the show, one other man using one that has been confirmed so far, that being Fujitora. The pair also share a sea, the west, and both utilize iaijutsu (quick draw techniques.) Fujitora blinded himself with said sword because of something apparently so cruel and inhumane that he rather not see anguish. This may be related to Brook’s departure from his kingdom, which is addressed later in this essay. (Fig 3-5.)

Another thing that’s worth mentioning here is Brook’s attack patterns, being unique even for his kingdom apparently. Once again, during the Ryuma fight, Brook states, and I quote;

“Ryuma: “Now tell me, what part of that wretched excuse for a body would you like me to severe with my special ‘Arrow Notch Slash?’ Brook: You don’t know a thing about that move, so do not use it’s name. I use to serve in my kingdom’s raider squad. The quick draw attack that I was most skilled at was ‘Requiem Lebanderole’. My comrades-in-arms renamed it in regards to my fighting technique.”

(Fig. 1, Brook explains his raider squad and move names. A banderole mind you is a long flag for BATTLE crusades. )

This sets up a few interesting facts. 1. Brook was in a raider squad, a kingdom’s group of marauders, as well as if not the same job as convoy leader. 

2. His techniques were unique to him, or at least specialized to a degree of having a nickname. 3. As expected, he seems to have been close to these men he commanded, adding another layer over Brook loosing the Rumbars. Being in both a raider squad and being a convoy leader at one point, if not the same point, implies either Brook was simply versatile, acting in both in separate years or periods. Or, the most likely, that he was higher ranking than expected, making him a CO, or commanding officer. (Lieutenant Colonel is another equal rank for scale, making Brook just below a Major.) This makes him quite the important figure, especially for a kingdom that seems to value its military so much, so much so that a child of Brook’s age would already know about their style of fencing, as expressed already. Brook’s devil fruit is worth mentioning here, the revive-revive fruit not likely to be found by a crew like the Rumbars. It is spoken about as if he has always had it amongst the crew, being a fact of life. However, when did he get that fruit and why? I propose where it would be useful; in combat. If your military convoy leader, your best swordsman could be shot and come right back to protect the king, would he not be utterly invaluable? You would never let him leave… But he DID leave. It’s not said why, however we have some extra tidbits of information that may tell us why, and that ALSO may tell us the answer to what kingdom he means.

( Fig. 2. Brook states his leaving of the military for unknown reasoning, the word certain being used in an odd way, establishing his bounty.) This bounty mind you all is in fact, using inflation method, 297,000,000 berries. That is a MASSIVE bounty for just a pirate. Perhaps a certain blond stole a treasure a kingdom could not replace; their convoy leader. Lets rewind for a moment and cover something that may be seen as off topic however I will come right back to the subject at hand; Calico Yorki. Yorki is an odd bird, pirate wise. He makes his crew read his bounties and information, is never shown to play an instrument/sing but makes his crew preform/they all do, and makes Brook make him dinner. (Steak, and Brook continues to be able to make it as confirmed by an SBS.) What is oddest yet, other than his large crew and shirtless habits, is his nature. A man that set to sea to play music for “orphans and crying children” as stated by himself; a crew made for “any men who love music.” Now, I could be reading into this too hard, however from his speech patterns, to this apparent need for a large family, it seems that singing to orphans may be a very personal goal. An orphan turned pirate perhaps, with lofty dreams and a heart of gold, it reads to me that Yorki may have been just that. Knowing this, orphan or not, we now can compare these facts to Brook’s life up until their meeting. A child who probably grew up being taught to fight, being around access to education, expenses and the kingdom’s training. Why would a man like Brook ever join a man like Yorki, and if it’s only music, would that not make Brook a deserter? I do not think that is the case. I will now bring forward some interesting evidence regarding Brook’s kingdom and WHY he would leave. Germa 66. During Zou to Whole Cake, a few mentions of Germa are made with Brook around, garnering interesting reactions indeed.

( Fig. 3. Brook listens but chooses not to add anything utter than silence, his music pausing as well.) This silence could be take as simple ignorance, however Brook later admits he knows of the kingdom, in fact, he knows a lot. A lot more than anyone else did, Reiju admitting interest in his knowledge and once again, Brook brushes it off.

(Fig 4, 5, Brook speaks about Germa 66.) He seems to underplay or simply not elaborate a LOT on his kingdom, as if something happened. Perhaps joining Yorki was not out of simple cowardice or need to be free, (which again if he did would both reflect poorly upon his entire character and not be in character for him what so ever,) but in fact, out of necessity. It could have been Germa 66, it could have been some other grouping, however I believe this will come to be something important. The kingdom possibilities are interesting as well, and I will list the following LIKELY possibilities. (Other options are known to not be military, like Ohara, or literally places like Thriller Bark itself.) - Toroa - God Valley - Illsia Kingdom - Soja Kingdom The most likely candidates, because again, it is labeled as certain kingdom (Fig 2.) is Toroa or Soja, however I will personally lean into Toroa. This is because of a man by the named of Byron.

(Fig 6. Byron and his information.) His nose and face shape vaguely resemble Brook, however honestly that is a stretch. What is NOT however is his familiar attire, family line and the placement of his kingdom. This could easily be Brook’s home, however again, this is just speculation. Brook very well could belong to God’s Valley, or the same kingdom as Issoh, fleeing because of something he did not agree with or literally could not stand any longer. But, that falls under possibility, not fact. This concludes the facts section, now comes the final question; What does it mean for the story? And, honestly, that can be debated. What Oda has done is plant odd seeds of information about the man, similar to Sanji and his ties to Vinsmoke, that have not been addressed nor talked about in full, or so I’ve found sufficiently. These seeds MAY bloom into what I hope will be a tie into some huge reveal, perhaps aid from a past member of his convoy or kingdom, or perhaps this will only spark conflict. Perhaps it will be minute, Brook being able to aid due to his knowledge, the man already in Thriller Bark showing his prowess by being able to command the strawhats into defeating zombies via salt and tactic. In any case, we can only hope these things mean anything, tied into some huge story that could explain why a man like him would quit for a redneck like Yorki, other than perhaps love, and what kingdom would let a man like him go willingly.

[3hks]

Foreshadowing I

Foreshadowing is a literary element where the author hints at a future event without giving it away. However, if you're like me and struggle to actually include original, effective foreshadowing, then luckily for you, I completely racked my brain to find very specific types/examples of foreshadowing that you can include to your story!

Note: I specifically stated "very specific types," I'm not going to be detailing the separate types of this element that you learn in school, but more of prompts and ideas that are meant to spark your creativity!

Dialogue:

>> Threats - Threats hint at future negative events that may occur to your character(s).

>> Warnings - Warnings and threats are not necessarily the same thing. While they both suggest negative things, a warning does not have to come from aggression, but rather helpfulness!

>> Promises - Promises foreshadow two things: said promise being kept, and said promise being broken. However, most readers will assume the former, since the latter is typically less likely.

Item symbolism:

>> Flower language - Different flowers have different meanings, and while most readers will skip over that, it's a fun addition! You can use those meanings to hint at what might happen later. For example: Purple hyacinth represents a desire for forgiveness! With the idea of foreshadowing in mind, if a character gives the flower to someone they're close to, it suggests that they might do something they'll regret in the future.

>> A broken item - This is an example used to foreshadow future struggles, pain, and separation. To get the most effective result, choose an item that has value to your character and is connected to the future event. For example: A crack in a glass picture frame holding a picture of a character and their closest friends should hint at the idea that the group of friends will split up.

Miscellaneous:

>> History - You know what they say! History always repeats itself! Use this to your advantage! What people did a long time ago can still influence the current generation, and what happened in the past could most definitely happen again in the future. This could involve family, ancestors, wars, diseases, deaths, friendships, etc.

>> Weather and seasons - This is a pretty simple idea, different types of weather and seasons symbolize different things! Summer and sunny weather typically demonstrate joy and blitheness! Fall and similar weather exhibits a change or shift in things, and even nostalgia! Winter and cold/stormy weather can symbolize an ending, numbness, apathy, and darkness. However, winter can also symbolize beauty, comfort, and festivity! Lastly, we have spring! Spring represents a fresh start and change!

Alright! That's it for now, so here you go! Hopefully, these examples are able to give you some new ideas! There will be a part two, but in the form of dialogue prompts! So if that's what you're looking for, keep an eye out for that!

Happy writing~

3hks :]

[edmunsonss]

Love Letters to Future Selves

Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN! Reader

Summary: Eddie finds a letter that he was never supposed to read.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: Swearing, kinda angsty??, it's also overly dramatic and not proofread because I just wrote this in class (sorry professor!).

A/N: I don't know what this is but I had the idea sitting in my lil idea dump, so yeah! I hope you like it :)

•:•.•:•.☾☼☽•:•.•:•.

Air hits your face as you stand there, alone, overlooking the city from your small apartment’s even smaller balcony. Ever since you arrived to New York, standing out on the balcony at night and looking at the lights that illuminate the buildings all around you is something that brought you comfort. Now it’s just a poignant reminder of the decisions that have brought you there.

You still remember the day the letter arrived in the mail. Eddie was there with you, sitting on your bed as you both tried to complete your English Lit assignment. It was one of the first times in your whole High School experience where you could genuinely say homework was enjoyable. Even Eddie seemed to be enjoying it, more involved in a project than you’d ever seen him be.

Your mom called your name, told you there was mail for you, which immediately made you look at Eddie.

“I think I’m going to be sick, Teddy.” You wished it was a joke, but you had genuinely felt your heart fall to your ass at her words. You had been waiting for that letter for months at that point.

“It’s going to be fine,” Eddie reassured, “There’s nothing to worry about, my little valedictorian.”

Eddie had never cared much about school, as demonstrated by the fact that by next fall, he would be a three-time senior at Hawkins High. He would have never imagined that he would end up becoming the biggest nerd in school’s best friend. Life was funny like that sometimes. Now there you were, about to escape Hawkins and go to college while Eddie stayed behind.

“Okay, okay.” You mumbled, anxiously playing with the ring on your finger, “I’ll just go get it before I throw up.”

You ran into the kitchen and basically yanked the letter out of your mother’s grasp. After mumbling out a quick apology, you went back into your room and shut the door behind you.

You stood there for a few seconds, back pressed against the door. It felt as if the purple envelope in your grasp was mocking you, like it knew the letter inside of it would change the course of your life.

“Well, open it!” Eddie laughed and secretly wiped the palm of his hand on his ripped jeans, just as nervous as you were.

“Shit, shit, shit.” You went and sat by his side once again.

“NYU.” He whispered. Your dream school ever since you were a little kid, the dream he had seen you chase for years.

You messily ripped the letter open, blinded by pure excitement. Everything went silent for a few minutes, you swore you even stopped hearing the Metallica record that had been playing.

Eddie read the letter with you, slightly craning his neck to look over your shoulder. The next thing he knew, you were screaming out of pure joy. He barely managed to catch the words admitted… Tisch School of the Arts before you threw the piece of paper into the air.

He treated you to a celebratory dinner that night. With the little money Eddie had, he took you to your favorite diner and let you ramble on and on for hours about everything you would do once you were in New York.

When the time came, Eddie was the one who helped you get settled into the apartment you would be sharing with two of your classmates. He helped you decorate your room and stayed the week before school started. You explored the city together and he made sure to take the subway to Tisch with you every morning until you had it perfectly memorized. You also took him to watch West Side Story and insisted on going to George’s for breakfast, just like your family did when they visited the city. It was probably the most magical week of your life.

Back then, you had been afraid of the distance pulling you apart from each other, but Eddie killed your fear with every call he made and letter he sent. You would even visit each other on holidays and it would almost feel as if nothing had ever changed.

You were still living inside that illusion until about an hour ago. You had just gotten back from class and figured it was a good idea to give Eddie a call before his show at the Hideout, craving to hear his voice. Neither of you had been able to talk over the phone that whole week and all you wanted was to hear how your best friend was doing.

You dialed his house number, which you had memorized as well as if it were your own. What you didn’t expect, was for someone else to pick up the phone on the other side.

“Munson residence,” Spoke a sweet voice. You frowned, what the fuck?

It definitely didn’t sound anything like Eddie’s voice, or Wayne’s. It did sound familiar, but you couldn’t put a face to the voice.

“Hello? Anyone there?” She said after a beat of silence had passed. That’s when it dawned on you. It was Emily Richards.

WHAT THE FUCK? Emily was a cheerleader, one of the nicest ones of the bunch, sure, but that still didn’t explain what she was doing at Eddie’s trailer. It surely wasn’t for one of his deals or she wouldn’t have picked up the phone.

“Uh… Ah… Hi,” You mumbled awkwardly as you anxiously toyed with the telephone cord. You told her your name, “I’m Eddie’s friend.”

“Oh! It’s so nice to finally meet you! Eddie always speaks wonders of you. I’m Emily, his girlfriend.”

You felt your jaw go slack at her words. They almost seemed to repeat themselves in slow motion inside your head… His girlfriend. Panic invaded your mind as jealousy crept into your heart and punctured it with a knife, but why?

It was perfectly fine for Eddie to have a girlfriend, right? Right? Millions of questions swarmed your mind, from thinking why he never told you about her, to wondering where this blinding jealousy came from if you were just friends.

“I think Eddie’s in the shower.” She said, abruptly putting a stop to your train of thoughts, “But I can tell him to call you back if you want.”

“Uh, that’s-that’s alright, I’ll just call him another time. Thank you though… It was nice meeting you.”

You hung up immediately after that. You’ve been out in the balcony ever since, sulking for God-knows-what reason. You fish around your pocket for the clove cigar you know you’ve got somewhere, but before you can even find it, your roommate, Tessa, walks into the apartment.

You turn to greet her, only to find she’s already looking at you with eyebrows raised. A sigh almost escapes past your lips at her expression. Tess hasn’t been your roommate for long, yet she seems to pick up on every time you’ve had a shitty day just by taking a look at you. In your opinion, it’s fucking insane… Slightly scary too.

“Don’t look at me like that! It’s not my fault you chose the balcony as your ‘I’m miserable’ spot.” Tess goes over to your tiny kitchen and you can see her shuffling around until she comes across the box of cookies that has become part of every deep conversation you have with her.

You spend most of the night sitting on the couch, talking about Eddie. Tessa is clearly unaware, but when you stir close to the topic of your jealousy she makes you question everything you thought you already knew about where you stood with Eddie. You still think about it as you lie in bed and stare blankly at the ceiling.

“I don’t understand him,” She had said, “Why would he cheat on you?”

“Cheating? Who said anything about cheating? You do know Eddie and I were never dating, right?” You reply. Tessa raises her eyebrows as she shoots you a questioning look.

“Friends with benefits then?”

“No,” You laugh. “We’re just… really close. I mean, we’ve basically known each other our whole lives. Eddie’s my best friend, nothing more, it’s how it’s always been.”

“Babe, I really don’t want to be pushy here but… does Eddie know he’s just your friend? He’s smitten! I swear he looks at you like the sun shines out of your ass.”

She then asked the question that kept you up the rest of the night, “If you feel nothing for him, why are you this upset over him getting a girlfriend? You can lie to me all you want, but you can’t lie to your own heart.”

You teased her for how cheesy her words sounded, but deep down, the question left you with more doubts than you’d like to admit.

You’re more than aware that there was a time where you did have feelings for Eddie, but a long time has passed since then. Back in your freshman year of High School, you had awkwardly tried to shoot your shot on at least three occasions, only to be turned down every single time.

It hurt at first, but you eventually got over it, because your friendship with Eddie was far more important than your romantic feelings. Yet, there seems to be where the lie is, isn’t it? To think you actually got over it. If that is the truth, then your discovery shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

So, as you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, you come to the realization that your feelings for Eddie have never gone away. No, you are in love with him. Shit!

The thought startles you out of bed in an instant. A million thoughts buzz around inside your head and you cannot imagine a way in which they will quiet down on their own, so you do what you’re best at, you write.

You sit at your desk for a long time and write out a letter for Eddie. A letter you know he will never read because you find it unfair that you’ve decided to write something like this when it’s already too late. So you just use it to write all the feelings you’ve bottled up for years, then, you bury the letter somewhere inside your closet, never to be found again.

TWO YEARS LATER

Eddie

A smile illuminates Eddie’s face as he listens to the soft purrs of the cat perched on his lap. His fingers comb through her soft fur while his eyes are focused on the TV in front of him.

He’s been trying to keep himself busy until your classes end for the day. There are still a few boxes of stuff waiting to be unpacked, but Eddie wants to get your permission to do so first, knowing the only empty space left in the room is in the closet, which still has some of your stuff.

After Tessa moved out once she graduated and Eddie finished High School, he had moved to New York to help you keep the apartment you loved so much. The salary paid by the bakery wasn’t cutting it anymore and month by month you struggled to gather up enough money to pay rent.

Eddie had gotten himself a job at the bar downtown to help out. You’d insisted on him taking the biggest room and despite his refusal to do so, you had already moved most of your things into Tessa’s old room, claiming it was the least you could do for him after he left so much on pause back in Hawkins just to be with you.

After a while of watching TV, Eddie finally hears you open the door and turns to look at you as you walk in. The cat on his lap jumps down and walks over to you after stretching out her body nonchalantly. Eddie pouts and mumbles a barely audible “Hey… come back.”

Your shoulders sag as you pet her soft fur, then lazily drop your bag by the door and change your shoes. Eddie watches as you head straight for the coffee maker. A big yawm escapes your mouth and you rub your tired eye.

“Hi Teddy,” You turn your attention to him once the coffee starts brewing and offer him a smile, which he gladly returns. He can’t help but think of how adorable you look in your fluffy white sweater and the pair of bunny slipper that are keeping your feet warm. He’s no stranger to this sight, you’ve had more sleepovers than Eddie can count. Yet, the desire to wrap you in his arms and cuddle you is still present.

“I see you’ve met Storm.” You say, looking at the cat brushing her body against your leg.

Eddie straightens up ever so slightly and wiggles his legs like a little kid to stretch them out, “I didn’t know you guys had a cat.”

You laugh, “She’s the neighor’s, actually, but she likes sneaking in through the balcony sometimes. Don’t let her get too close to your hair though, she’ll chew on it.”

“Isn’t that like a sign of love or some shit? Pretty sure Henderson said that once…” You shrug and finally pour yourself a cup of warm coffee.

You cradle the cup on your hands as gently as if it were your most prized possession, “Wouldn’t know, Teddy. Anyway, I’ve got some homework to finish, but feel free to tell me if you need anything. We can go get dinner once I’m done too.”

Eddie hums—basically moans—in delight at the idea of food, already picturing the delicious pizza he’s going to be eating later, “Ugh, yes please. I can’t stop thinking about Joe’s pizza.”

“I told you it was better than Wade’s.”

“Woah! Nothing’s better than Wade’s.”

“Keep lying to yourself. It stopped being good like… years ago, it’s the nostalgia talking.” You argued and picked your backpack back up, making a beeline for your room.

“Hey, sweetheart, before you go. Is it okay if I move some of your stuff out the closet?”

You shrug once more, “Sure, knock yourself out, Eds.”

•:•.•:•.☾☼☽•:•.•:•.

Eddie has spent almost a whole hour organizing the closet and he’s sure it’s only a matter of minutes before he goes utterly insane. He’s never been the biggest fan of cleaning, especially not when the only thing in his mind is what he’ll eat when he’s done.

His dark eyes scan over the next box and he can’t help but let out a deep sigh at what he knows is inside. An “in need of sorting” label is messily written on the side of the cardboard box, which contains some of his records and some things Emily gave him during the months they were together.

It’s been over a year and a half since they broke up and he’s over it, but even then, he isn’t exactly thrilled of having to sort through those things. As much as he likes to deny it, Eddie still feels a slight pang of guilt in his chest when he thinks of her.

He decides to move the last box of your stuff out of the closet instead. It looks small, which makes Eddie assume it mustn't weigh too much, so he picks it up, not putting much care in supporting the box from the bottom.

He quickly realizes his mistake when he picks it up and it is as heavy as if it was filled up with stones. He huffs and watches helplessly as the bottom of the box gives out and all its contents end up scattered on the bedroom floor.

Eddie doesn’t give it much thought before he kneels down and folds de box closed again, securing it with some tape he sees lying around. He starts picking up your stuff and dropping it in the box. It’s mostly school papers, Eddie notices, the weight coming from a few pocket-sized books.

His fingers brush over a folded piece of paper. Eddie doesn’t mean to snoop, but he can’t help but notice that at the top of the pages Dear Eddie is scribbled in your handwriting.

He thinks it’s probably a letter you meant to start but didn’t finish, which wouldn’t be too unusual given how busy you are with school. That’s why it comes as a surprise when he unfolds the paper and sees it’s filled with your writing. The With love at the bottom an indication that you did finish writing it.

Eddie sees no harm in reading it, after all, it’s addressed to him, right? So he plops down on the floor and shimmies around until his back is resting against the bed.

Dear Eddie,

It has always amazed me to think of how much you’ve changed my life. I still remember the day I met you, do you remember it too? You walked into the classroom wearing a shirt that was a few sizes too big for you, fingers tightly holding on to Wayne’s hand. You were so reluctant to let go, but you eventually did and sat on the only empty seat left, which was right next to me. The rest is history.

Eddie smiles as he reads. He remembers that day too. You don’t mention it in your letter, but at the time, you had greeted him with a bright smile, which had reassured him everything would be okay despite everything.

*I hold the memories of every moment we’ve spent together close to my heart. They remind me of how lucky I am to have you in my life. Maybe I’m getting too emotional, but you’ve done so much for me all these years. Like that time I was upset because my parents were going to miss my first play, so you made Wayne, Gareth, Jeff and Grant go with you so I’d have people cheering me on in the audience. Or that other time when I was practically shitting my pants out of nerves a few days before my Tisch interview so you made us go on a road trip to Indianapolis to “*calm my nerves” as you’d said.

There are obviously thousands of other times where you’ve been my knight in shining armor, despite me saying I don’t want one. Truth is, I want one if it’s you behind the armor. Is that a cringy thing to say? Maybe. I don’t know.

I found out about Emily just a few hours ago. I keep wondering why you didn’t tell me about her when I went over to visit for Thanksgiving break. I’m glad you didn’t though, because you can read my expression annoyingly well and I’d be afraid of you finding any traces of dissapointment on it. Keep in mind I’m not disappointed in you for having a girlfriend, it’s great actually! You deserve nothing but happiness because you’re nothing short of an amazing human being, whether you believe it or not. I fear my state of dejection would have been my own fault ‘cause of something I didn’t say.

I feel the need to say it now because I’m stupid and I’m selfish. That’s why I don’t really plan on sending this letter out. I can’t be unfair and burst into your mailbox with my confession right after I’ve found out you have a girlfriend. I just wanted to write this out because I don’t know what else I could possibly do with all this love I feel for you. Which is actually funny if I think about it, because if it were about anything else, I would have already called you so you’d knock some sense into me, but I can’t exactly do that right now, huh? Not when it’s about this. Not when I don’t want you to know.

But yeah, Teddy, I love you. I love you so much more than a friend should. I always share my secrets with you, but I think I’ll keep this one to myself. I’m sure you know already though, I asked you out like three times in freshman year, I wasn’t exactly the most secretive about it back then, huh?

Eddie has to stop reading right then and there, both to collect himself and wonder what the hell it is you’re talking about. Eddie’s sure he’d remember you asking him about because the one thing he’s dreamed of for years is taking you out on a date. He’s always fantasized about how he’d drop you off at home and kiss you on the porch like they did in those boring romance movies you liked. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried, in fact he had asked you out on several occasions during freshman year too! You rejected him every single time.

Now that he has time to think about it, he comes to the conclusion that all along you’ve just been morons. Two lovesick morons. He figures it’s time to fix it, but first he finishes reading your letter.

Whether you know… or don’t, I’m not sending this letter. Even if I were to, it isn’t cohesive enough, or whatever. My creative writing professor has made me become obsessed with writing everything perfectly, it’s fucking exhausting, not like it matters right now anyway.

I don’t really know what else to say other than: I fucking love you and I hope it’s the only secret I ever keep from you.

With love.

There’s a deep sense of longing in his heart, accompanied by nostalgia as he remembers growing up with you by his side. Eddie wasn’t stupid, he knew just how lucky he was to have you in his life, had never taken it for granted in fact.

In hindsight, a lot of things make sense now that he knows what you felt back them. Eddie can’t help but think of a particular Friday night, the week before Halloween.

Eddie had his eyes on the road, but otherwise, his attention was fully set on you. Hellfire’s yearly Halloween campaign had just finished and, per tradition, he was driving both of you to the trailer so you could have a scary movie marathon.

Ever since the campaign ended, you had been catching him up to what went down during the brief time window where you didn’t see each other that particular day. Much to his dismay, you were telling him about how Christian Adams—some guy from science class—asked you out on a date after first period.

“My first date! Can you believe it?” You shouted over the music playing loudly inside the van, “I’m kinda nervous, Teddy.”

He tapped his fingers on the steering while as he stole a quick glance in your direction, “Who was the date with, again?”

You groan, “Eds! Don’t start falling asleep on me, dude. It’s with Christian Adams, you know-”

“Ah! The idiot who told Harrigan two plus two was five?” A throaty laugh escaped past Eddie’s lips, you rolled your eyes.

“It was stupid, wasn’t it? I thought I’d seen it all when I heard you say Thor was a Greek God.”

“You absolutely cannot compare my honest mistake with that shit! I’m about to be a super senior and even I know basic math.” You guffawed at his comment and shook your head in pure amusement.

Eddie parked the van and you walked into the trailer, still laughing a bit. Wayne, who was sititng on the kitchen counter with a bright blue cup in hand, looked at you.

“Hey, old man,” Eddie greeted his uncle lovingly and gave him a side hug.

“Hi Wayne!” Your best friend gave your hand a gentle tug and gestured to his bedroom.

You playfully swatted his hand away and took a moment to open your backpack and grab the mug that was securely wrapped in layers of newspaper and paper towels. Both men watched with interest as you peeled each layer of paper away to reveal a beautiful mug decorated with a detailed drawing of a deer.

“I got this for you! From Colorado.”

Wayne gave you a small smile, which for someone like him was basically the equivalent of a toothy grin, “Look at that boy, should take notes from them.”

Eddie pouted jokingly at his uncle’s words and turned to look at you, “Where’s my souvenir?”

“It’s in my backpack, Teddy. Shut up.”

“Make me.” You furrowed your brows and turned to look at him, only to find him looking back at you with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You suck.”

He pulled you towards his bedroom once again and this time you didn’t put up any resistance. Wayne watched it all unfold and sighed, “You kids are going to be the death of me.”

•:•.•:•.☾☼☽•:•.•:•.

You had been in Eddie’s room for almost an hour at that point. Wayne had already gone to work and Eddie was busy writing down something on his DnD notebook.

Your fingers plucked at the strings of his beloved guitar, which you had insisted on not hooking up to the amp.

“So��� Why did you say you were nervous for that date?”

“Well, what if he wants to kiss me?!”

“You kiss him back if that’s what you want.”

“I’ve never even kissed anyone before, what if it’s gross? What if I suck?” By that time, you were pacing around the room, Sweetheart long forgotten in Eddie’s bed. This was a topic you had discussed with Eddie countless times, but it was never something that was the cause of actual concern, until that moment.

“I heard somewhere that pretty people are good kissers, so you must be amazing at it.” You stopped dead in your tracks at his words. You knew he was probably kidding, but that didn’t stop you from feeling your cheeks heat up at his compliment.

“Ha. You’re so funny.” You replied in a dry, sarcastic tone. A beat of silence passed before you spoke again, “We could always test that theory though.”

From his expression alone, you knew he couldn’t tell if you were serious—you were… Kinda. You thought that your crush on Eddie wasn’t much of a secret at that point. You’d asked him out when you were younger, but you had never been so direct about it.

There was a glint of mischief in his eyes as he stood up walked towards you. For the first time in years, you felt nervousness crawl into your heart. For as long as you could remember, Eddie had been your safe place, you always found solace in those warm brown eyes of his, yet at that moment, you couldn’t help but wonder if your stupid comment was about to ruin everything.

Eddie’s fingers grazed your face as he cupped your face. He was intimidatingly close by that point. You let your hands wander to the curls that sat right below his shoulders. That naughtiness in his eyes was long gone, replaced by a tender look.

He took that last step needed to close the distance between you. His lips brushed against yours in a timid peck that couldn’t have lasted longer than a few seconds.

The brief contact gave you enough confidence to kiss him one more time. You let him guide you and quickly realized just how correct it felt to have his lips on yours. There was nothing but pure joy in your heart as you enjoyed the feeling of having him close.

Much to your dismay, Eddie eventually pulled away. He said nothing for a few moments that seemed to stretch into eternity. Then, he let out a breathy laugh and spoke, “Well, theory confirmed. That was… wow… you’re totally ready for your date, yup.”

Back then, Eddie had noticed something in your expression shift after the comment he’d made, but you’d left almost immediately after, which left him no time to ask. When you saw him Monday morning, you acted as if nothing had happened and told him all about your date with Christian. He had been hurt, but now he understood how much of an idiot he was for that comment and how he had hurt you too.

In his own defense, Eddie was genuinely convinced that you had no other intention behind your comment. He actually thought you wanted to practice kissing for a date! WHAT A FUCKING IDIOT!

Eddie stands up, doubt planted in his heart like a poison, but he isn’t going to let that stop him, not again. He firmly holds the letter in his hand as he walks down the hallway to where your new room is. His hand trembles as he raises it up to knock.

He doesn’t even need to knock again before you open the door, a confused look on your face, “Since when do you knock?”

“Since, uh, now… I guess.”

You smile at him, “Well,that’s a mi—”

The words die down in your throat and your smile vanishes as you notice what he’s holding.

“Oh.” Is the only thing you manage to say before tears start welling up in your eyes.

Eddie can see your temptation to close the door on his face, but before you can do it, he musters up the courage to speak up, “I found it by accident while cleaning out the closet. Why didn’t you send it?”

Your lip trembles as you find a way to answer his question. “How could I? I had no right. I spent years hearing you talk about how you wished someone would give you a chance to show them you’re so much more than stupid town gossip. I wasn’t going to ruin your chances of that happening, not when you had someone so perfect by your side.”

“I always had—still have someone perfect by my side. You.” Eddie watches as you shake your head and tears start falling freely down your face.

“You can’t say that, Teddy. You can’t give me hope.”

Eddie doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your body and pull you close, “I never told you why I broke things off with her, did I?”

You shake your head against his chest, “I broke up with her because I kept comparing her to you. I kept hoping to find at least half of what I have with you. I know it’s wrong, but you’ve changed my life. You know every little thing about me and you’ve never loved me any less for it. You care so much about me, about Wayne. It’s you, always been you and I wish I could have had the courage to say that I love you sooner.”

“You love me?”

He cups your face with the same gentleness as he did that one autumn night, “So much more than words can express.”

“Kiss me then.”

“As you wish,” He says with a lopsided smile and lets his lips meet yours.

Eddie feels a heavy weight lift from his chest at the feeling. The kiss is so tender yet full of so much passion, caused by those bottled up feelings you have shared all this time. The way you hold each other makes him feel like you’re both trying to say every feeling to that single kiss, and it’s truly magical.

When you pull away, Eddie is met by a sweet smile and your kind eyes, “I love you to.”

It’s a funny thing how everything has played out, or at least it is to Eddie. For two people who understand and share things with each other, you’ve sucked at sharing one of the most importat things of all. That you love each other. For this reason, Eddie can’t wait to make up for all the time he didn’t spend showing you how much he loved you.

[rey-129-fan]

Gotham-Amity Co-op AU Part 3

Part 1 | Previous | Next

“Hola beauties, and welcome back to Fashionable History, I’m Paulina,”

“And I’m Star, and on this channel, we teach you how to be at the height of fashion, no matter what time period you find yourself in.”

“Now for our long-time viewers who missed our community posts, you might be wondering about the change in location.  Well, we are moving up in the world.  That’s right, fam, we are officially-

“College girlies!” The two shouted into the camera.

“Ah, such a big step,” ‘Star’ sighed.

“Indeed it is.  And to celebrate, let us dress up like we’re going to meet the queen of fashion herself: Marie Antoinette!”

***

“So you would think it would be hard to demonstrate Amity Park’s weirdness while no longer living there, but you would be wrong,” a black man said into the camera while walking down a hallway, his glasses fallen ever so slightly down his nose.  There were voices in the background progressively getting louder.  “You see, Danny’s mentor popped by this morning, and apparently, he decided that the perfect way to tutor Danny and piss off his bosses at the same time was to allow a bunch of college kids to summon a historical figure of their choosing to discuss their area of expertise.  Once a week.

“Jazz got to go first.”

The black man stopped in a doorway.  Much clearer in the background was a woman’s even voice.  “And Jazz, being the future psychologist that she is, picked the most sex-obsessed man in history.”

The camera flipped to show a young red-head sitting across an older man with a white beard in a blue three piece suit.  In the background was a younger man, his blue eyes glazed over as he sat there sipping from his mug, his head of black hair bobbing as he fought to stay awake.  Really, it wouldn’t gather a second glance, except for the tiny detail that the older man’s skin was as green as a sunburnt person’s was red.

“-indeed homosexuality is not an illness, and in fact the only link between it and mental health has been observed to be caused by familial and community reactions.”

“That is good to hear.  Indeed, many people throughout history were homosexual, and a lot of them did not show any other signs of mental illnesses.”

“It is.  However, with the recent pushes for public acceptance of those not heterosexual, many have come forward with sexual orientations beyond just hetero and homosexuality, including those that are attracted to both men and women at the same time, as well as those who experience no sexual attraction or are completely repulsed by the idea of anything sexual.”

The camera flipped back to the first man.  “She is explaining how psychology has developed in the last 100 years without trying to rip apart Freud’s work.

“This isn’t even the first time something like this has happened.  Occasionally, we’d get guest speakers that would turn out to be some famous author or pioneer in their field.  It’s how our English teacher got his copy of the Tempest signed by the original author.  I think this might be the first one that won’t end in a raid by government idiots in white, though.

“So yeah, we occasionally get to talk to dead celebrities and don’t bat an eye at it.  Amity Park is very weird.”

***

“Danny!  You left your cups in the sink again!”

“How can you tell it’s mine?”

“They’re glowing green and you’re the only one that drinks ectoplasm!  Now take care of them before you bring the food to life again!”

“Fine…”

The camera pans over to a goth woman giving the camera a flat look.  On screen, there’s some text that reads: ‘When your boyfriend forgets to clean off his dishes after his mildly radioactive smoothies.’

***

“Urgh!” Just die you stupid, lazy skeleton!”

“How long is this attack going to be!”

“I don’t care, because when it’s finally my turn, I am going to stab the dust out of this depressed sack of bones!”

On screen was a couch, and on that couch sat 3 young adults, two women and one man.  One of the women was Valarie Gray, US National Taekwondo Silver Medalist, was jabbing her thumb down on the d-pad of her controller, lips pulled back in a snarl.  The other was Samantha Manson, more known for the TikTok channel Our Strange Lives.  The man was a muscular blond.  All three were focusing on the screen, their eyes emitting faint light and Valarie’s teeth seemed to be getting sharper.

Quietly a blond woman walked on screen, a backpack slung over her shoulder.  The woman was Star Strong from Fashionable History.

“You guys are still streaming?”

“This boss is stupid difficult and Manson and Gray are the only ones willing to play.”

“What happened to the guys?”

“Fowley, Wes, Singh all had work.  Fenton got to the first boss and then lost it because ‘Goat Mom just wanted to protect us’ before getting a call from his lil sis asking for help.  Kwan is working on a lab with a guy from his chem class, and Kyle passed out a couple hours ago.”

“Stop dodging!”

“Wanna play?”

“Can’t.  Going to the library to study for a calc exam I have coming up.  See you guys later.”

“Later.”

“FUC-”

***

“And so, with this polaroid image, we have evidence to prove that-”

“Hey, Wes, do you have something I can use for a collage?  Oh sweet, thanks bro!”

“What?  No!  Kyle!  Get back with that! That was the proof I was going to use to prove the existence of Yetis!”

“Oh damn.  This is some nice creature work!  Danny, your friend has an incredible costume, man!”

“Thanks, Kyle!  I’ll pass it on!”

***

Tim paused the video right as Wesley Weston stood to chase his older brother.

There.

The red-head’s eyes had a slight glow to them.  Tim clicked over to the other images he had gathered of the Amity Park teens, all with their eyes glowing or other signs of something inhuman.

Tim had been introduced to this group by Stephanie when she found a martial arts demonstration Gray did that involved breaking multiple boards, all several feet above her head.  Stephanie had meant it as a ‘check out his cool person doing what we’re doing,’ but Tim noticed something.  All the boards were being held by seemingly the same person- or at least people dressed very similarly.  And not in a way where they’re sitting on a ledge above Gray and are switching out the board each time she broke one.  More that there were multiple companies of the same white glove all holding a board and all floating several feet above where they should have been.  That was already a little weird, but it could’ve been some special effects or just a uniform.

No, what caught Tim’s attention was the quick glimpse of the face of one of the board holders.  It was youthful- late teens- but with paper white hair that showed no signs of bleaching.  Now these features would have been a thing to cement the mysterious person in Tim’s mind.  But it wasn’t that.

No, what got Tim to do some digging to find out about a previously unknown supposed hero from a small town that has been blacked-out by the US government, was his eyes.

His calm, glowing Lazarus green eyes.

***

So we finally get a taste for the shenanigans our liminals are up to. Sam, Tucker, and Danny all share a TikTok where they show off how weird the other two are and how weird their town is. Wes is trying to prove cryptids exist, which Kyle ruins. Dash has a gaming stream that most often Kwan joins in on, and Paulina and Star do dress history. Oh, and Valarie is a national taekwondo because karate has only been an event for one Olympic games, but taekwondo has been an event since 2000 and Val seems more like a kicker than a thrower. Plus, I actually took taekwondo when I was younger.

We do get another Bat showing up at the end. There is absolutely no plot, however, so who knows where this is going. Certainly not me!

I'm still looking for names (please, I need them). As for majors:

Jazz-Psych (obviously)

Kyle- Liberal Arts (I wanna put him in accounting, but Liberal Arts works for now)

Tuck- Comp Sci

Danny- Poly Sci, minor in Astronomy

Sam- Double Poly Sci and Environmental Science

Val- Criminal Justice

Dash- Undecided (both me and him)

Kwan- Pre-Med for now, though he wants to do Child Development/Education

Paulina- Fashion Marketing

Star- Sports Science

Mikey- Music

Wes- Journalism

[catskets]

From Desires to Demo: How to Write a Good Demo for your Visual Novel

I'm deciding I want to expand on some topics in longer, fuller-length posts based on points I made in this general VN development post.

There is a problem that players have expressed to me about visual novel demos, especially in horror/romance/yandere circles these days: they are not demos at all. Rather, they feel like introductions to the characters and the setting, and nothing happens at all. No one wants to have to go find out everything good about your game by going to your Tumblr and going through 10+ months of asks to get themselves hyped up for your game. Most people are not going to do that. They will instead play your demo and go "this isn't enough for me to come back to" and never think about it again.

How, then, do you get people playing your demo and being excited for the full game? This is my personal guide on how to make a compelling visual novel demo.

In case you've never heard of me, I'm Kat, also known as catsket. I have a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Game Design. I've been making games for nearly 5 years, and I've been doing visual novels more "professionally" for 2. You may know me for Art Without Blood, 10:16, God is in the Radio, or Fatal Focus. I'm here to help you make your first visual novel, or, perhaps, improve on what you've already made.

What is the purpose of a demo?

A demo is short or a demonstration. Your job is to demonstrate a portion of your game to players. In more "traditional" games, a demo typically takes place in a very tightly-constricted space that is meant to show off how the game feels. Maybe this is the first few levels of a platformer that showcases the general atmosphere and gameplay of the game.

We aren't making action and adventure games in explorable spaces. We are making visual novels. Most visual novel demos just showcase a small portion of the game, maybe the first few scenes.

What your demo should have is this:

A general vibe for your game. You're writing a psychological horror game. Give me a taste of that! Show me a bit of the gore, a bit of the horror.

A sense of urgency. A lot of demos I've played and discarded have been discarded because the game itself does not give me a motivation

An established plot. What is going to happen in the future? Why am I in this world?

In general, think of your game as the back cover of a book. That's where the hook that draws you in to read it. Just give me a proper taste of your game!

There are cases in traditional games where things are hidden from the player in demos (let's all remember MGS2) and where things are changed in from the demo to the final product. That's perfectly okay! You are not obligated to update your demo unless you find gamebreaking bugs and other issues. If things change from the demo to the final product, let your players be surprised and intrigued by these changes!

I can make this a list of do's and don'ts:

Before writing your demo...

Do: Outline, plan, and everything else.

Unless you're blessed by Mnemosyne herself, you need to outline where your story is going to go.

When starting a project, I write a 1-2 page document that has this information:

Name of the game

The target audience

The genre and moods

A paragraph summary of the game

1-2 sentences describing main characters and their roles

Write a short scene that captures the essence of the game

Write a basic outline. You don't need to fit everything in and outline it all, but give yourself an idea. A beginning, a middle, a climax, and an end. Some people just write the start and the finish, and then the middle gets all muddled and convoluted.

While writing your demo....

Do: Make it clear how the choices will impact the game

Visual novels are a medium where player choices affect the game. Make sure those choices actually matter. They don't all have to, of course. They might matter later in the game, but you should at least try to write an example of how a choice may matter.

For example, in Art Without Blood's new demo, certain choices mean you meet the characters in a different order and experience different sides of them.

Having a certain amount of a sanity stat will cause characters to give you some flavor text.

Here's a very simple idea: if you're running your game on a "love points" or other points system, you can make it so if player gets 10 points with love interest, get a different scene. It shows that your choices are impactful. Just let players have a taste of the consequences of their actions.

Don't: Character dump.

Many demos I have played were just character dumps. This means using the demo just to introduce to us the characters but not giving them room to truly show their personalities or their attachments to the problem.

For example, I played a game recently that had the player complaining about their living situation, showing us the characters in the same living complex, showed off the yandere, and then had the player deal with an annoying, evil boss. That sounds like lots of games, right? And that doesn't sound very fun, does it?

Do: Ground the player in the world

Try to immerse your player character in your world. I want to read like I'm part of it. What is our purpose? If we are a stranger, how can you immerse us in a world so far removed from ours?

Do it slowly, and do it with necessity. You don't necessarily want an exposition dump either.

Establish the world, establish the conflict, establish why they got into this conflict, and leave us off with a reason to come back.

Don't: Make your players have to visit other sites to get important information

Your ask blogs or other social medias should contain supplemental material that keeps players engaged, but it should not be a place where you should go "well, actually, in the demo, x y and z should have happened but it didn't."

Try not to spoil your game on your socials. What's the point of playing if I can just read it all on your blog?

I should learn about the plot and the characters from the game itself. I should not have to get a sense from your blog about a character because they were so dry in the demo.

Obviously, this isn't to say you need to include everything about a character in your demo. But we need to get a sense of personality. I shouldn't have to go to Tumblr to find that personality.

Do: Ask for help

Making a game on your own, especially for the first time, is scary. It's okay to ask for help. It's okay to get people to help you out with parts you aren't so familiar with. It doesn't make you any less of a developer. A lot of people need some degree of help. There is nothing wrong with that.

Don't: Start your marketing until you know you can finish the demo

I've seen lots of demos that have been in the works for years. It can be disappointing for fans and demotivating for the developer to have an idea, tell the world, and then not see a demo for a long time. This is especially the case when money is involved, but it's still irresponsible to promise a product and never deliver it. Be honest about the status of projects and your life.

Do: Outline content warnings properly

It is up to the player to decide if they think they're capable and ready to play your game. Make sure to outline your content warnings. Cover the basics, and feel free to leave an extended warnings list in your game or on your game page for specifics.

Content warnings are usually things like blood/violence, profanity, sexual content, etc. Trigger warnings typically get into specific things, like suicide, dentists, or religious trauma. Think of content warnings like the ERSB.

Put a splash screen before the game starts that showcase the content warnings and a place to find trigger warnings.

Don't: Pull back punches with what your characters are capable of

It's fiction. It doesn't necessarily mean you support your characters being crazy stalkers. Know the audience you want to write for, and don't feel a need to cower. Let them be filthy. Let them get their hands deep into someone's chest cavity and rip a body apart.

What I'm trying to say is you really shouldn't tone down what you think your characters are capable of because you're afraid of making fans sad or upset because pookie isn't acting the way they thought pookie acted in their head. It's your character. You're commanding the story. You are choosing where it goes, not fans. Just because you have an audience doesn't mean you need to tone it down to be more palpable to others.

Once your demo is released...

Do: Keep a balance

Making games is very, very hard. And the world is very, very harsh. It is okay to let your fans know about delays or potential cancellations, such as through the devlogs on itch.io for your game, in your community spaces, or on your blog. Please be honest. If you do not think that, after a demo's release, you can continue on the project, make it clear that it has been cancelled or on hiatus.

People will be understanding. The world sucks, and it sucks the life out of us. People are more forgiving if you are honest with the status of your game, rather than leaving it in a perpetual limbo.

Don't: Think that the popularity of your demo constitutes how "good" your game is.

Your demo may not do well. That could be a number of factors. Maybe your marketing didn't hit where you think it should have. Maybe you posted it at the same time as another game. Not your fault. The full release may do better. Don't let the numbers be the reason you give up.

Do: Network!

Get to know fellow developers in the space so you can learn from one another and get more ideas for improving your own games.

Don't: Use developers.

Use a developer's resources. You should not be making friends with other devs if your desire is to try and become friends with big people. That's a parasocial relationship, buddy!

Do: Tell your fans the course of action

Do you have a development timeline set up? Writing multiple days? Give fans a general outline that you planned before writing your demo. It's okay to miss things as long as you're honest. But a timeline will help you hold accountability for yourself.

Don't: Charge for it.

I've seen at least 3 games take the "I'm going to charge for a demo" route in an effort to sway children from playing the game. This is going to sway everyone. Especially if players have not seen a complete + finished product from you, they will not be buying an unfinished game. There are other ways to hide your games from children, such as using itch.io's adult content filters and applying them to your projects.

Main takeaway: Be honest.

I say this a lot throughout this post, but it's because it pushes on a particular trend I see in beginner visual novel developers. There's this desire to create, but there is also the desire for fandom centered around what characters and world spawn from your creations. To maintain that fandom, you need to create. You need to be consistent. It may be harsh, but it's the reality.

Life is hard, and a large majority of us are NOT doing this for a living. Life will get in the way. It always has, it always will.

That's why it's good to practice integrity. Know yourself and your limits. Take steps back and be willing to be open + honest.

Fans won't be happy if you keep saying a game is delayed and show little to no work. Posting unrelated artwork and spending months answering Tumblr asks instead of making a game will eventually run you in the mud without anyone to enjoy what you have the potential to create.

Live up to your promises, and if you can't, be honest. Your community will support you as long as you're open.

[darkcircles4lyfe]

I've given it some thought--

Now, if you've read any of my posts and you've read 430, you know there are a lot of ways it falls short of what I wanted. On the other hand, I can respect an open ending, one where we are allowed and encouraged to dream. All things considered, I'm not satisfied or disappointed, but a secret third thing... bear with me.

For a lot of storylines, I can fill in the blanks how I want.

I'm heartbroken over Himiko's fate, but there's no denying that the lack of camera footage leaves open the possibility of her simply disappearing. Perhaps she is waiting in hiding for the world to change, just like Lady Nagant.

Dr. Yoshida is described as someone who can cure the incurable. That may be referring to Katsuki, but the doctor himself said it's a complete mystery how he survived, all Katsuki's own doing. Maybe he cured someone else in those 8 years... someone like Touya?

Honestly I got nothing on Tenko but who knows. Who knows! Something something OFA connection. Izuku having vestige visions. Idk.

As for the manner in which society is changing, I'm drawn to Shouji's speech: "I'm dedicating the honor to those who joined the uprising eight years ago. All I've done is stand atop the resolve that they demonstrated to the world, nothing more." That at least tells me his earlier judgment of the other heteromorphs "setting them back" was a narrow point of view Shouji was supposed to grow out of, rather than a way of Horikoshi trying to criticize revolutionaries. In general, just because a character says something doesn't mean we're supposed to take it as gospel. That's lit crit 101, people.

Then there's Izuku. Once again I am feeling this pretty close to home. I keep coming back to the fact that the class is 24/25 now and I'm 25, man. On top of that, anyone else who was 14/15 ten years ago when the manga started gets to feel like we've all grown up together. I wanted catharsis for Izuku's trauma so badly. I wanted words. But I can't deny that the way Izuku is shown attempting to make the best of things and be content with a humbler life resonates with me, as painful as it is, as much as I know deep down he's kidding himself. It doesn't surprise me that he kept his walls up all this time and continued to shun his "selfishness."

I almost feel like there's an all-encompassing narrative theme being expressed here, in the fact that Izuku was trying to push past his pain and focus on the next generation, but surprise, his story's not over yet. I think the implied message there is that more can be done in the here and now, and maybe other stories that seem to be over, aren't.

With these things in mind, I can take the ending in stride, even if this is all the more we get from Horikoshi. However. There's one thing that is jolting me out of my peace every time I start to get comfortable here. It's actually related to the storyline that got the most closure.

I've seen a lot of fellow bkdk enjoyers calling their conclusion the best part of the ending, and I agree with that. They got a truly full circle moment, and a way of communicating to the reader that they're together, they have their forever, in a way that is personal to them. It's not "canon" in the way a kiss or a confession is, but I've said it before--this makes sense for them. And Horikoshi also did something legitimately interesting and groundbreaking by not making Ochako confess, not showing her future being tied to the main character as a love interest.

No, the thing that's bugging me is a seemingly small detail: why does Izuku and Katsuki holding hands at the end, of all things, have to be implied? Lots of things about 430 make sense in the context of the interview Horikoshi recently gave where he expressed being content with what he has drawn, and what he has left to the imagination. But not this. You can't convince me he didn't want to draw this. It's a motherfucking story about hands. This is the one thing I was 110% certain would happen. It's been teased for forever. Katsuki clearly wanted it so bad. So many other characters got to hold Izuku's hand in-frame. What the hell. Why.

Idk. I will be thinking about it for the foreseeable future.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 22

part 1 | part 21 | ao3

“…Go ahead,” he relents with a heavy sigh.

He turns the radio back on for background noise, and Robin launches herself into a breathless recap of every minute detail she’s ever learned about Eddie Munson. Genuinely impressive how quickly the words come out; Steve thinks that if her dream of becoming a linguistics researcher ever falls through, she’s got a bright future ahead of her as one of those speedreaders who rattle off the fine print at the end of pharmaceutical ads.

Warning: Discussion of Eddie Munson may cause nausea, heartburn, palpitations, sweaty armpits, and an inconveniently timed half-chub any time you use a pocket knife. Talk to your doctor to see if Discussion of Eddie Munson is right for you!

“Which brings us to tonight,” she’s saying when he zones back in. “Let’s examine the facts, shall we?”

“Must we?”

“Yes, we must.”

She makes a loose fist, lifting her pointer finger with an aggressive flourish to kick off her ‘list of reasons Eddie has a big, fat crush on you.’ “Fact number one: he was conveniently wearing a super nice outfit.”

“He said he ran out of laundry.”

“And we’re buying that?” she scoffs. Her middle finger springs up to join the first one. “Two: he was so disgustingly up in your personal space. Like, you really should have seen it; it was—”

Mwah. Mwah mwah mwah. “Yeah, I don’t need another demonstration.”

“Three” —there goes her ring finger— “he came to a movie rental store that you just so happen to work at and then left without renting a movie.”

“Because you did something to spook him!”

“Which brings me to my fourth and final point.” Her pinky lifts up to join the team, fingers spread wide like a paper fan, and she telescopes her arm to shove them back and forth under his nose until he goes a little cross-eyed and bitches about her distracting the driver.

“Cut it out! You want me to drive us into someone’s trash cans?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yeah, well I’m sending you the invoice when it scratches up the paint.”

She retreats to her side of the car, curling her back against the door and repeating, “My fourth and final point: I think he thinks we’re dating.”

“And? Everyone thinks we’re dating.”

“No, everyone wants us to be secretly dating,” she corrects. “But I’m pretty sure Eddie actually thinks I’m your girlfriend. You remember last week when you dropped me off at school?”

He does. Eddie had actually been there early for once; had been sitting on a bench out by the soccer fields, looking surly and half-asleep while he sucked down a cigarette. Hair all messed up by the wind. Looked kind of dangerous. Wild.

“He was, like, fully glaring at me when I walked into school that morning, and then he was super rude to me in band. Which, at the time, I was like, ‘oh, well I guess that’s just Eddie no one can ever tell what his mood’s gonna be like from day to day,’ but noo-o-ow…”

She starts squirming in her seat again, excitement overflowing as she finally cracks the case. “Now it all makes sense! Oh, my god! He totally hates me because he thinks we’re dating, and I’ll bet you anything he either didn’t know we work together or didn’t expect me to be there tonight and he totally, one hundred percent was there to flirt with you because he’s in lo—”

“Okay, Detective,” he cuts her off, because the tips of his ears are burning, and he doesn’t think he can handle her saying the L word out loud right now. “You’ve made your point, thank you.”

“Tell me I’m right.”

“Uh, no.”

“Come on.” She jabs at his side. “Tell me I’m right tell me I’m right tell me I’m—”

“—A fucking menace? Gladly.”

“Translation: I’m right and you’re mad about it,” she smirks, victorious.

Steve knocks his forehead against the wheel as he pulls up to her curb. “Why do I drive you places?”

“Because you love me." She flips her visor down to freshen up her lip balm, mumbling around the chapstick, "I’m adding Surly Best Friendlish to my list of fluencies; I think it'll really make my college applications pop."

"Yuh huh," Steve grumbles. The thought of Robin leaving for college always sits in his gut like raw bread dough — thick and heavy and gross, rising to form a swollen lump in his throat. "Didn't you already submit all of those?"

"Yes, I diiiid," she sings, shimmying her shoulders with pride. "Duke's gonna say yes, I just know it. Picture it with me: Robin L. Buckley," she gestures to an imagined marquee somewhere just beyond the windshield, "class of 1990."

Steve swallows the urge to be a sulky dick about it. "They'd be lucky to have you," he says quietly.

"Nope. No no, none of that. No moping." She tugs at his arm; links their elbows together. "You're not allowed to mope when we have a party to get ready for."

"No, you have a party to get ready for. I'm going home."

"Steeeve-uh!" Holy shit. He just had to be soulmates with the whiniest lesbian in a 500 mile radius, didn't he? "Come to the bonfire party with me!"

"Yeah, that's a no."

“It’ll be fun!"

It most certainly will not be. "You really want me to go freeze my ass off in the woods all night while a bunch of former classmates talk shit about me the second they think I'm out of earshot?" He's been to enough of his parents' 'networking events' over the years to know exactly how that'll go. A full night of subtly closed-off body language, smirking whispers and judgmental glances that dart away as soon as he meets them head on. Fuck that. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

He just wants to go home. Feels momentarily sick with the desire to drive himself to Loch Nora.

"What did I say about moping?" Robin asks. She shoves into his space, hugging his arm tighter and deploying her most lethal sad wet kitten face (and Steve doesn't even like cats; this shouldn't fucking work on him.) "Pleeeease," she begs. "Vickie's going to be there, and I could really use a friend."

"So ask a friend!"

"I am, dipshit!"

Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Goddamn this woman. Steve hangs his chin to his chest in defeat, notices the weird stain he got on his shirt during work. "I have some conditions," he concedes.

She throws her arms out wide. "Condition me, baby!"

"First— ew. Okay, I don't like that; don't call me baby." Yeesh, and furthermore, yuck. "First, I'm borrowing one of your shirts, and you're probably never getting it back."

"Understandable,” she nods as she gets out of the car. Steve follows her out, propping his elbows on the roof.

"Secondly,” he continues, “I'm getting very drunk at this stupid party, and you're figuring out how we get home."

She reaches out over the top of the car; gives his hand a quick squeeze when he puts it in hers. "That's three things," she says fondly, "but I can work with that."

—

part 23

tag list part 1 below the cut; comment if you'd like to be added tomorrow (not tagging ageless or under 21s unless we're mutuals or you let me know your age ✌️)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @questionablequeeries @runninriot @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutabed @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy

[shadowtraveled]

In your Mithrun analysis, when you say “maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.” who is the ‘someone’ in your mind? Milsiril? Kabru and the canaries? I loved your analysis, so I’m curious

OH kabru absolutely

milsiril spared him and, decades later, helped him with his physical rehabilitation, but it seems like she more or less gave up on his personhood. no more desires -> no more mithrun as we knew him -> no more mithrun. she spared him because he wasn’t completely devoid of motivation to live, and she used the single motivator he had left to eventually get him to keep himself alive, and she briefly even seemed to want to try and instill some of his old mask (even with the understanding that that’s what it was) back into him, but that fell through immediately and i think with it went her optimism that mithrun would ever… be a person again. “too late now, i guess.”

then the canaries are on good enough terms with him, but they’re practically instructed to treat him like a weapon or a tool they’re maintaining. i believe it’s cithis that tells kabru to take care of mithrun but clarifies that really what that is is just making sure he eats. ensuring his baseline needs for survival are met. and really, that’s all she was ever tasked with. when it’s all over and mithrun is cataleptic, the canaries stay physically near him, but they seem to have accepted that he’s gone—without the demon to chase, he has nothing to live for. cithis, though, seems to be closer to mithrun than any of the others, and i don’t think it’s a coincidence that she’s the one who calls lycion off and encourages kabru to try engaging with him when she hears the beginning of what he has to say.

this post caught a lot of my opinions regarding mithrun’s relationships (linking to my reblog of it because i dumped some thoughts in the tags) but tldr i do think milsiril and the canaries fall short of thinking of mithrun as a person, and that’s why their relationships with him fail him somewhat. i don’t think that’s their fault, because it seems like they were taught to think of losing your desires as a complete loss of self and humanity, but it does mean they see mithrun as someone who has already been lost. kabru is demonstrably different in that he’s able to help mithrun see a future beyond the demon, and he’s able to do it because he deals with mithrun like he’s human. because he is. and all of that stems from the specific aspect of kabru’s personality that is his obsession with people

[globalrebrand]

i love all ur depictions of vil and i’m so happy u took a liking to lyney who’s also my fav ❤️ ur toxic vil in particular haunts my brain, lives in my floorboards and echoes in the halls of my mind at night….so may i humbly please request “forcing them to divulge past traumas or secrets” with vil? 🥹

Warnings: Dead dove, do not eat. Mentions of past sexual assault, nonconsensual age gap relationship.

Vil had been quiet since you'd left the party.

This wasn't unlike him. At the end of a long night of socializing, he generally preferred to hold your hand or, even better, sit with you tucked against his side in the back of his car while his driver navigated you both to his penthouse.

But tonight, the gap between the middle seat felt like an unbridgeable canyon stretched between the two of you.

It was his father's 50th birthday celebration held at the family home. The Shaftlands elite came out in droves to celebrate the beloved Eric Venue.

The night started well enough. Vil was more than happy to introduce you to his wider circle of famous friends and loved ones. As an up-and-coming model with a promising career (even more so with Vil proudly claiming you as his), your agent wouldn't let you forget how this was a rare opportunity to expand your network, but you weren't here for any of that. Tonight, all you wanted to do was support your boyfriend and his father at this critical milestone.

Vil made the rounds with you, introducing you to well known actors, actresses, veteran supermodels, producers and directors all gathered to celebrate his father.

You and Vil were in fragile territory as a couple. If you were able to successfully demonstrate that you could be one of them, an elite, a star, then you and Vil were looking at a future as one of the foremost power couples in the industry.

Thankfully, things were going splendidly; you spoke at the correct times and came off as appropriately humble and down to earth as an outsider in such an elite group. You took great pride in how Vil beamed as he watched you gracefully interact with these other celebrities, your natural charisma on full display. It was hard to get any higher off the fumes of his affection, then he paused, observing you with a tender look and petting the apple of your cheek with a smooth thumb before quietly admitting, "I'm so happy I have you."

That was until you ran into him.

"There's one more person I want you to meet," Vil said warmly, urging you away from your current conversation to meet a distinguished-looking white-haired gentleman.

"Uncle Valle, this is my girlfriend." Vil beamed but the director had a sickening look on his face, ignoring his nephew and addressing you with far too much familiarity.

"Long time no see." You froze. Valle Mensing is a world-famous director and a man you'd desperately hoped never to see again.

"Uh- I think you're mistaken. It's nice to meet you." You avoided eye contact, suddenly finding your shoes interesting, was you felt Vil bore daggers into the side of your head.

The older man raises an eyebrow in slight disbelief.

"Hmmm, you're right my mistake." Thankfully Valle just patted Vil on the back mentioning, "lovely girl you got there, take good care of her."

Vil grabbed your hand and tugged you close to whisper in your ear.

"What was that?" You wouldn't do this now, couldn't.

"Vil, I feel a little sick. I'm going to step out into the garden. If you'll excuse me," you excused yourself, leaving Vil absolutely baffled and more than definitely ensuring that he was suspicious of your interaction with his beloved uncle.

You had no idea they were so close, and now you were scared. You prayed Vil would just let it alone, as unlikely as it would be, but you didn't want to make him choose. Rather, you didn't want to be rejected by him in favor of his dastardly uncle.

You both left shortly after. Vil's mood was considerably soured, and a paranoid expression became etched into your features.

Now, it has been about 20 minutes of driving, and still, no word has passed between you.

Uncertain of what to anticipate, you needed to at least confirm where Vil would be dropping you off tonight. You had a sinking suspicion that your behavior tonight didn't earn you the privilege to share his bed.

"Are you dropping me off or-" You're quickly interrupted.

"What relationship do you have with my uncle?" Vil turned to look at you, his eyes already brimming with judgment.

The impulse to lie was so strong. You'd done it for so long. You knew Vil would likely see right through it, but you had to try. Try to protect yourself and him from the truth. It was only when you were with Vil that you felt as if you had any worth. If he knew your past, what had actually transpired between you and his uncle, you're certain he would no longer want you.

And then, who would you be?

"I don't have any-" You started, but as you suspect, you were cut off almost immediately.

"Why did he say 'long time no see?'" Vil questioned, leering over you with a raised brow. "Don't play dumb. It's unbecoming." He scolded, a coldness in his eyes but an unmistakable look of morbid curiosity. Vil likely already suspected what you would reveal to him, but he wanted to hear it from your lips and force you to bear the most vulnerable parts of yourself to him.

"Vil I-"

"I saw you speak to him in the garden. What were you speaking about."

"It was a long time ago." Your face was hot, and your voice pinched and weary. Tears threatening to spill at any moment.

Vil sighed, exasperated and desperate for the truth. It was obvious he was done waiting for you to confess in earnest.

"Did you fuck him?" The words struck you like a blade to the chest.

"Please, I-" You wanted to retreat and hide, but there was no cover from Vil's relentless barrage of questions and accusations in the backseat.

"Did you or did you not. If you don't tell me now, we're finished."

A long silence passed between you as you tried to form the words in your mouth.

"Yes." The words come out cracked and dry. A horrible truth you didn't want to deny. The tears had started falling now, hysterical sobs wracking your entire body. You prayed the driver had the decency not to spare you a glance.

"Did he force you?" Vil questioned. Less angry, but not even remotely comforting.

"It doesn't matter, please. I just want to live in the now with you!"

"He did, didn't he. He raped you?" You tried to verbalize to say yes, he did...many times, but all you could do was nod wordlessly.

"I need you to tell me exactly what happened tonight."

"H-he asked me why I didn't tell you about our relationship. And I said because it's not something I'm proud of." Calming yourself with stuttering breaths, you admit, "Vil, I'm not lying when I say it is my greatest shame."

"Why don't people know about this?" He's angry. Hurt.

"Because...I wasn't exactly of age at the time." Vil startles, like you've smacked him.

Quietly, as asked, "How old were you?"

"15."

He curses in his native tongue, looking angry and disgusted.

"My agency lied about my age to get me into the country." You went on to explain.

I didn't want to, but they said the connection would benefit my career, and I didn't know any better.

"I've never told anyone."

At that Vil perked up. A pitying look on his face as he embraced you for the first time since you left the party.

"You should not have been subjected to anything so horrible."

We'll go to my home. I wouldn't want you to be alone after having to face that awful man.

"You won't say anything, right?" You plead. Vil tsks.

‘My love, he can't be allowed to go free.” He leans closer, whispering in your ear.

“Think about all of the other women- No. Girls. He's hurt because of your silence.”

The tears that stopped only moments prior, resume their unbidden cascade.

“You were very courageous in telling me,” vil continues, “but I cannot allow you to be silent about this any longer."

He sits up, posture as regal as ever as he observes your tear stained face in the flicker of passing street lamps.

“Don't worry, darling. No one who hurts you will ever be allowed to go unpunished.”

You nodded and clung to your boyfriend, grateful that, at least, he didn't seem like he would leave you, but somehow, you weren't comforted by his assertion.

[cherrychilli]

Slip of the Tongue

A mini series I 18+ I Enemies to lovers

Chapter two

Eddie Munson x neighbor! reader

Reader and Eddie are the same age - she's in College and he's repeating his senior year once again.

Chapter Summary: Eddie invites you back to his room for a one on one demonstration of his skills.

A/N: Sorry for edging y'all last chapter. This one's pure smut start to finish. Enjoy💛

Chapter warnings: Oral sex (f), fingering, squirting

Tag list rules:

New additions: Make sure to both reblog the chapter and comment to let me know if you'd like to be added to the list and PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE CLEARLY LISTED IN YOUR BIO IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED. AGELESS BLOGS/BLANK BLOGS/MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Current tag list: Make sure to reblog the chapter if you'd like to remain on the list for future updates.

The stress had taken its toll on you.

Juggling two part time jobs while studying for your college midterms had you running on fumes, unable to unwind no matter what you tried. The little time you had to yourself was usually spent catching up on sleep but that wasn't ever enough to reinvigorate you, not when you had other needs that went unmet in the meantime.

You were desperate for some real stress relief, bordering on delirious. You had to be because how the hell else could you explain ending up in Eddie Munson's bedroom? Lying in his bed, your panties amongst the litter of cassettes and fantasy magazines strewn across his bedroom floor, and said boy's head between your thighs.

"You better not be wasting my time, Munson", you tried your best to sound tough, a near impossible task when his lips are brushing against your inner thigh, so very close to your slit. He had your skirt pushed out of the way to bunch at your waist, large, rough hands wrapped around your thighs which bracket his face.

"So feisty", he cooed back in reply, breath puffing warm against your core.

It's all so painfully surreal, being here like this, but you try your hardest not to think about it too hard for the sake of keeping your sanity intact. About how Eddie's got you laid out and completely exposed, your bare pussy mere inches away from the boy you'd come over to yell at, the same boy who'd caused a fair amount of the tension he's now offering to help relieve with his tongue.

"Don't worry. I'm going to take real good care of you", he breaks you out of your internal spiral, a teasing but lighthearted lilt to his voice as if somehow, he'd sensed your nerves.

And then he says, "You ready?"

It's a simple yes or no question, much easier than the ones you've been pouring over for days in your practice tests but you find this one the hardest to answer. Not because you're unsure of what to say – you had your answer ready and tucked at the back of your throat ever since his fingers climbed up your thighs to tug at the waistband of your panties.

No, it's because you’re certain that when you answer him, everything’s going to change.

"Yeah...go ahead", you manage to wring the words from your throat, fingers clenching his sheets, eyes trained up at the ceiling because watching him somehow feels like too much.

The few seconds that elapse before his mouth descends on you feels like you’re freefalling, a sharp, plunging descent with no way to prepare yourself for the impact of his tongue gently licking at your folds, thighs jerking as he lapped at the slick which had gathered when you watched him play through the window.

"Y' know, for someone who's always in a sour mood you taste pretty fucking sweet", he smirked, knowing it would set you off, thumb momentarily skimming your folds in place of his tongue.

Ordinarily, a comment like that would have earned him a knee to the groin but now, in this maddeningly bizarre situation you've find yourself in the middle of, your body reacts against its usual instincts, hips shifting off the bed to chase his mouth for more.

"Don't stop", you mutter loud enough for him to hear, tone somewhere between commanding and imploring, eyes slipping shut.

You've never felt a warmth like the kind that seeps into your veins like sunlight when Eddie's broad tongue parts your folds, licking his way up to your clit to lightly swirl the pointed tip over your sensitive bud, hands bringing your hips back down to bed to hold them firmly in place.

"Shit, Eddie that's...nice", you sigh out, perhaps the most civil thing you've said to him in weeks.

Everything smelled like him – the sheets, the pillows, even you, you realize as you turned to press your cheek against his mattress, your hair now carrying the same woodsy, smoky scent, inhaling a little deeper to take in that undertone of boyish musk you find yourself strangely drawn to.

His scent.

Another soft swipe of his tongue along your folds has your toes curling but what's makes the fluttering sensation brewing in the pit of your stomach grow stronger is knowing that he's carrying your scent too.

"Oh fuck..."

The way his tongue roams you is slow and lingering, not at all like what you'd watched him do with his guitar but fuck does it feel good, having his fingers press into the meat of your thighs like he’s afraid you might slip through them at any moment, teasing your clit with soft kitten licks, plush lips occasionally trapping the bud to suck lightly before releasing it again.

He's building you up for what's to come, taking his time to find out what makes your breath stutter and your spine curve in an effort to press yourself closer to him, getting you to loosen up and give yourself to him.

Minutes go by like this though you’re not sure how many. Ten? fifteen? maybe longer, of him lazily laving and sucking gently and it's amazing but it’s also only nearly enough, steadily stoking the fire inside you. It’s enough to draw out a soft pants and muffled moans out of you, enough to make all the tension that had wound you so tight begin to unravel but not enough to grant you the release you're seeking.

Chest heaving, you can’t bring yourself to beg, afraid of what you might sound like if you did, a choked whine of Eddie’s name so close to spilling from your lips already. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing it.

Angling your right foot, you’re able to reach down and press your heel into his waist, not forceful, just enough to make him pull away from cunt, lips sheened with your slick and chin brushing the soft curls on your mound when he peeks up from between your legs.

“Need more already huh?”, he beats you to it, knowing and smug.

As much as you wanted to deny it, you already missed having his mouth on you. Lips pressing into a thin line to show your annoyance, you try to grasp at the right words from the jumble of them knocking around inside your head, hoping to pick the ones that might help you seem less needy than you actually feel, not wanting to boost his ego more than you probably already have.

“What you did earlier when you were playing… that was different”, you point out carefully.

“I know, I’m just getting you ready”, he explains matter-of-factly, eyes dropping back down to your cunt, gently spreading your folds apart with his thumbs with rapt attention.

“I am ready”, you try to argue, a little breathless but firm.

Eddie meets your stern gaze again and gives you a skeptical look in return, holding your stare for a few more seconds as if assessing you before he ultimately yields.

"Alright alright. Listen, uh - this might get a little intense so just um… pinch my hand if it gets too much for you and I'll stop, okay?", he winds one arm around your hip, holding out his hand for you to take.

The shift in demeanor has you slightly taken aback. He’d been so cocky for most this, showing shades of something softer at times but this was the most blatant display of that side of him so far – no sass, no crude remarks, no teasing jab. It was a side you’d seen glimpses of back when you were in school with him, that considerate streak he was sometimes partial to like when he’d taken in those freshmen who didn’t seem to fit in anywhere else. You never thought he’d show you the same kindness, no matter how veiled. Part of you even thought you didn’t deserve it after all the squabbling you’d initiated over the years.

Tentatively, you stare at the hand he offers you, his words echoing in your head loud enough to override your temporary and uncharacteristic bout of guilt.

Intense? Too much for you? Fuck, it's so hard to keep from wanting to grind your core against his face when he says things like that.

"You're pretty confident, aren't you?", you say instead, stalling so that you could discreetly wipe your palm against his sheets before you place your hand in his, afraid yours might be sweaty.

"Yeah, I am. And for good reason", he grinned, curling his much longer fingers around yours as you rest your joined hands close to your belly button, hoping he couldn't feel the storm of butterflies flapping their wings wildly inside your stomach.

“Oh, but first–”

Despite your best efforts, you can’t contain the pathetic yelp he rips from you when he pulls you closer by his free hand, picking your legs up abruptly to get them over his shoulders, spreading you even wider and getting you so close that you’re practically locked in place.

"Eddie-shit", you try to scold but it’s no use.

There’s no more soft, gentle licking when he dives in, tongue moving boldly to pulse against your clit with enough pressure to make your whole chest feel like its crackling with pops of electricity. He’d warned you it would be intense and you learned he was a man of his word, thighs twitching and quivering around his cheeks and curtain of curls. You squeeze his hand instantly, not pinching, he notices, a sign that it’s okay to continue as you throw your head back.

Spiraling again, you’re at a complete loss as to how good this feels. It never felt this good with the other boys and it definitely didn’t feel like this even when you touched yourself. How could someone who’s never touched you until today be able to get you like this so quickly and so easily?

Well, the position certainly helped. You’re entirely at his mercy like this, pinned in place from the waist down, suddenly very aware of how strong Eddie really is, not what you’d expected of someone who spent most of his time occupied with fantasy games. He groans, deep and rumbling, the vibration of it travelling through you while you fight to keep your teeth firmly set in your bottom lip, starting to writhe as he alternates between flicking your clit with his tongue and sucking on it, sloppy, wet, filthy sounds echoing plentiful in his bedroom.

It’s a riot inside your head – two thoughts competing and clashing fiercely; one part of you screams for him to slow down, that it’s all so much so fast despite having asked for it and the other roars back a resounding keep going, oh god, keep fucking going, overtaking the first.

But Eddie isn’t privy to any of this – you don’t want to let him know because even with the way he’s making it harder and harder for you to not just cry out for more, you’re much too stubborn to actually do so – knowing full well that if you were to let on just how much you’re enjoying his ministrations, he’d never let you hear the end of it.

Easier said than done.

Your resolve is withering at an alarming rate, not sure how long you can keep true to your vow of silence when he slips his tongue into your opening, pleasure and relief melding into one now that you have somethinginside you, curtailing the ache of being empty for this long. He fucks you with it, driving it in and out, lavishing you from the inside with every stroke and drag of the slippery muscle against your walls.

“Oh Ed– oh fuck”, you blabber, hips bucking up against his face. You clench around it, clit throbbing in the absence of his tongue swiping over it but the way his nose bumps the tender pearl with every sloppy thrust of your hips more than makes up for it.

He lets you rut against his face like that, only pulling back and away minutes later but you’re not left wanting for long.

A sharp gasp is pulled from you when a finger plunges into you, another joining not too long after. You feel stupid for forgetting how well those fingers moved on his guitar when he curls them inside you, long and thick, reaching deeper than your own, filling you better than his tongue did.

“Shit, listen to you”, he tutted, cunt sopping and squelching loud enough for your whole face to flare up. “Got this worked up just for me, huh?”

He wants to hear you beg; you know it. Rather than replying you whine between ragged breaths, containing the rest that threatened to spill out in moans and cries for more. But it’s nowhere near enough to satiate him now. Eddie frowns, face clouding with irritation. He wasn’t going to let you get away with stifling yourself any longer.

“Tell me how good I make you feel”, he says, tone losing its playful lilt and gaining a firm edge instead, eyes darkening.

“I’ve been real generous with you today – even after all your fucking attitude”, he punctuates with a particularly rough thrust of his fingers into your cunt, another gasp tapering into a whimper falling from your lips.

“Not g-gonna say it…” you tremor, so clearly affected by what he’s doing to you. 

He laughs but there’s no amusement there, only something foreboding glinting in his eyes. “Can feel you, honey – trying so hard to hold back but you’re soaked and you’re squeezing me so tight”, sinking his fingers in up to the knuckles.

“C’mon, I’m not asking for a lot, am I?  just say the words and I’ll let you cum,” he murmured, amber eyes hooded and locked on yours.

“Eddie-”, you start, hating how it came out all pitchy and wavering, hating it even more when you see how much he liked hearing his name leave your lips like that. “You said you would- this isn’t what we agreed- “

“Do it or I’ll stop”, he cuts you off, unsmiling. You can tell he isn’t joking when his pace falters and his fingers still inside you.

The fear of him stopping when you’re already so close rushes in with torrential urgency, no time to feel embarrassed by how quickly or how hard you squeeze his hand when you feel him begin to unweave his fingers from yours to make good on his threat, your steely grip preventing him from slipping away, begging him to stay.

“Please...”, you begin to crumble, breathy and desperate and aching for him to finish what he started.

The smile pulling at his slick lips tells you he’s appeased, pumping his fingers inside you again, slow but deep, stretching you well.

“Go on…” he encourages, speeding up when you let loose an unrestrained moan that comes out all high and pretty for him, helpless to his touch, your building arousal making you grow compliant.

“Fuck -Eddie, I’ve- I’ve never felt this good before”, you relent with a sob.

“Yeah? Poor baby – always working so hard… got no one else to take care of you. Needed it so bad, didn’t you? Couldn’t even control yourself when you saw me today, huh? Climbed in my bed and spread your legs even though you say you can't stand me”, he grins wickedly, tone thick with condescension.

He was right. For years, you were gasoline and him, the match, all of that smoldering friction between the two of you culminating in the most surprising way.

“But now you can’t get enough of me.”, he finished with a sneer.

Something new blossoms beneath your ribs – humiliation.

But instead of trying to shy away from it you find yourself welcoming the way it sprouts up like tendrils, winding around you all slow and creeping, all because you’ve been put in your place, rendered a mewling, gasping, desperate thing by the boy you’ve spent far too much time despising.

“Wanna feel your mouth on me again”, you blurt between pants, a broken, pitiful sound.

“Need you to make me cum – please”

He watches you struggle under the weight of your own desire, willing to debase yourself if it meant he’d grant you your release and it makes him chuckle, satisfied.

“Was that so hard?”, he flashed you one of those impish, shit eating grins before his mouth is on your clit again, fingers driving inside you in tandem. Your free hand shoots out to weave into his hair, clutching it like a lifeline.

The combination sends you careening towards the edge, the feeling starting to become too much when he sucks hard on your bundle of nerves but there’s no way to pull yourself away from him – not that you wanted to. Not really.

Your whole body tenses and ripples when it crests, something white hot barreling its way out of you – too fast and too intense to warn him, cunt fluttering around his moving fingers, thighs squeezing, throat growing hoarse from your cries.

It runs through you in crashing, gushing waves, leaving you shaking and keening, lungs burning for air until breath returns to you slowly, roiling intensity settling down into pulsing aftershocks. They subside when the afterglow comes next and you relish the way it drapes over your quivering body, lips trembling and chanting whispered exclamations of ‘oh my god oh my god oh my god’ up at the ceiling, still reeling from it all. It’s only when the sensation of weightlessness that had cradled you for those moments following your orgasm begins to recede that you spring up, elbows pressing into the mattress to support you, heart shooting up into your throat when you catch sight of Eddie.

And it’s worse than you thought.

His cheeks, mouth, jaw and neck are soaked, as is the collar of his shirt now clinging wetly to the dip between his clavicles. Oh shit it’s in his hair too, noticing a few dampened ends which stick to the fabric near his shoulders.

In the thick fog of your afterglow your mind turns sluggish – too slow to piece together what exactly had happened as your eyes lowered in search of what caused Eddie’s current state. Realization sets in after a few seconds of delay in the form of a swooping, twisting flurry in your belly, worsening when you find the same wetness coating your inner thighs and pooling on his sheets, your ass resting in a little puddle of well, yourself.

You've squirted all over his face and his bed.

"I've never done that before”, you breathe out, both stunned and mortified at what you’ve done. Though your worry lessens somewhat when you dare to look at Eddie again, the look on his drenched face telling you that he’s anything but upset about it.

“I’ve never made anyone do that before”, he utters back, sharing your surprise.

Your hand which somehow had managed to stay clasped in his throughout the whole thing is finally returned to you when you both loosen your hold on each other, awkwardly pulling away enough for you to scoot off the damp spot on his bed and for Eddie to ease up onto his knees, which he realizes a little too late was probably a mistake.

Your eyes dart to it when you hear his sharp inhale, widening at the sight.

There's a new elephant in the room to address now – the massive erection straining against his sweatpants.

Silence shrouds the room, both of you speechless, panting and sweaty. He makes no move to cover himself and you don’t think to set your gaze anywhere else.

You’re not sure why you did what you did next, only that you felt compelled to do so.

Easing up on to your knees, you come face to face with Eddie, skirt falling back down to conceal you. Your fingers move seemingly on their own accord, curling into the waistband of his sweats, fingertips grazing the hot skin that lies underneath and for some reason he lets you, watching you closely albeit a little disbelieving. This wasn’t part of your ‘agreement’. He’d offered to get you off and you had accepted but that was the extent of it, neither of you giving much thought as to what would happen after but here you are, chasing after more.

Inches away from his lips, you can smell yourself on his skin. That tangy, earthy essence he'd lapped at and drunk down so eagerly for the past hour. What made him like it so much? What made him want to do this all in the first place? You wanted to ask him but more than that, fingers tightening on the cotton waistband, daring to dip inside and skim the course trail of hair above his pelvis, you wanted to find out what he tasted like too.

You draw a little closer and so does he, nose brushing his, chin tipping up, eyes slipping shut…

But your lips don’t meet.

Whatever was about to happen is cut short then, the both of you whipping your heads in the direction Eddie’s bedroom door, on the other side of which comes the sound of the front door unlatching and a set of boots stepping through the entryway.

Wayne’s home.

“Fuck”, you exclaim in unison.

Sharing a panicked look with Eddie the two of you begin to scramble quietly off the bed, not wanting to risk alerting Wayne to your presence in their trailer.

You liked Wayne. Despite his gruff exterior he’d always been fair to you and your family but the last thing you wanted was to get caught out in his nephew's room. Like this.

"Shit – I can't believe I'm saying this now but...you have to go", Eddie winced as he whispered to you, looking increasingly more regretful with every word he’s forced to let out in reference to your departure.

"No– It's okay. I get it, I really should leave", you hush back in agreement, looking all kinds of frazzled and just as sympathetic given you bare as much of the responsibility for how things escalated the way they did.

You get your shoes back on as quickly and quietly as you can manage, panic rising when Wayne calls out something from the kitchen about dinner.

“Be right there!”, Eddie yells back, swooping down to pick your panties up off the floor, sheepishly handing them to you and you ball the underwear in your fist, suddenly too embarrassed to let him look at them despite everything that’s transpired.

And with that brief brush of his fingers against yours, a moment hangs over the two of you as you stare at one another, a moment that begs for something more to be said about the situation.

But what could you say?

"Thanks for the head?"

"Sorry about the mess. I hope it doesn't leave a stain?"

Nothing feels right no matter what you try to scrounge up and scrape together from the recesses of your mind so reluctantly, you don’t say anything at all, turning towards the window and letting him help you out through it, a faint sense of something sour washing over you when his fingers slip away from yours.

The walk back to your trailer is a short one but it’s made all the more difficult on unsteady, wobbling legs. Casting your gaze at every neighboring window in search of anyone happening to look outside, you try your best to look as inconspicuous as possible despite your ungainly stride and your disheveled state, scrambling up and through your front door.

Back in your room, slumping against your bedroom door, your thighs are wet and sticky, breath coming out in short, hurried puffs, heart thudding a mile a minute and you have just one thought ballooning in your mind.

How the hell were you ever going to look Eddie in the eye after this?

-

Tag list: @sadlittlesquish @honey-flustered @cryingglightningg @cadence73

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn pt 12

Pairing: unrequited Isildur x Reader, mentions of Sauron/Halbrand reader, possible future requited Isildur x Reader

Tags: angsty, unrequited love, Isildur curses like a sailor and like breaks peoples bones, reader runs away from her problemsReader gets into trouble obvi, surprise kinda toward the end.

Notes: I told you I'd be feeding you but I'm not sure that yall will like this one. No sauron. Just isildur. There's some foreshadowing at the end and that's what I think might ruffle some of yalls feathers 😬😬 also it's not the best. I'm still getting a feel for isil.

“No, no. Isildurs fingers wrapped around your wrist, tilting it ever so slightly, “you must block like this. The tilt gives you the advantage to push in. It gives you easier access to defend more of your body. Having the sword straight up will make you more vulnerable.”

You nodded following his example. You'd been at this for a few hours with him. He'd been insistent when he found you were going on the expedition back to your homeland. He knew that the main reason you were going was that Halbrand was making the trip as well, but you had offered your skills as a healer. He couldn't stomach sending you into a battlefield without you having some combat knowledge.

“That's a good girl,” he commented with a laugh as you blocked several of his attempts. “But watch your feet. You have to be ready to move to either side.”

He stopped again. “Bend your knees like this,” he demonstrated the position he was talking about. “That way, you'll be ready for whatever movement you may need to make.”

You nodded and copied his position, and then you were back to practicing, trying to use everything he had taught you. He'd give you praise when you blocked or got a hit, offer advice when you missed. The light around you was dimming, and you were making progress. He was genuinely proud of the progress you made.

“One more go, alright, then I have to get some food or I fear I'll perish.” He commented, his heart soaring at the sound of your laugh.

The sound of the wooden swords hitting each other as you practiced filled the street. Suddenly, you went to block, and he was able to twirl you away, bringing you into his sword and against his chest.

“I win,” he laughed before noticing how close you were to him. He could see every freckle on your face, every faint scar from childhood, the different specs of color that made up your eyes. The air felt hot and crushing around him. He hated how gorgeous you were and how his mind would wander to a world that couldn't be.

A world where, in this instance, he could kiss you.

He he held your gaze, he didn't know for how long but then his eyes wandered down to your lips and he saw how soft they looked. He wandered if they were. He wondered if things were different, would you allow him to kiss you.

The words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them.

“I wish a could kiss you.”

And with those words, you backed away, dropping your sword and staring at him for a moment. He could tell you didn't know what to do or say, that your mind was thinking over everything. He adored his friendship with you, just as much as he did you, and he knew those words would cause a conflict in you that might destroy that friend ship.

“I need to go,” you mumbled softly before swiftly turning on your heels and making your way down the dark streets of Numenor.

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath and quickly followed you.

Perhaps you'd stop, and he could explain. If not, he simply needed to make sure you made it to your accommodations safely. There were plenty of Numenorians who supported this venture, but there were plenty who were not and blamed you and your companions. Some even resented you. Some threatened violence. And while Isildur could understand wanting to punch Halbrand in the face, he would not allow that harm to come to you.

“Wait, come on, just wait. Please.” He called after you, his feet carrying them after you.

Why did Elros put so many damn stairs in this city?

He feared he lost you. You were much faster than he suspected. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, a chorus of curses chanting in his mind. It was when he heard your voice from a street over that he calmed, but when he registered what you said in his mind, his blood ran cold, and he saw red.

“Please, I didn't do anything. I swear.”

You sounded scared. You sounded hurt. He'd never run so fast in his life, and the sight he saw made any semblance of calm or common sense leave his mind. A group of 3 men, all Isildurs age, and you, with a fresh cut on your face.

“I suggest you all step the fuck back,” he moved stand between them and you, his hand wrapping around your wrist to keep you behind him.

They all snickered, “and what will you do, elf lover?”

The words had only left the man's mouth and Isildur had grabbed him by the back of the head, smashing into his knee. Once. Twice. Three times before any of the mans friends got involved. It was a cacophony of curses, fists, and the crushing of bones. You had pressed your back to the wall with your eyes shut tight as it all transpired.

“I suggest you leave before I break your nose like I did both of your weak, pathetic friends.” Isildur hissed, his nose was bleeding as was his mouth, but he stood there with the others shirt in his fist as his companions sat on the ground worse for wear than Isildur was.

When the man didn't respond, Isildur growled and yanked his shirt harder. “Brave enough to strike a woman, but cowardice overtakes you now? You are pathetic. A disgrace to Numenor. The valar look on you and despair.” He pushed the other away from him.

“Leave now.”

He watched and waited for them to leave before turning to you. He limped towards you, examining your face. “Are you okay?”

“Me?!” You ask exasperated, staring at his beaten body. “Are you okay?”

“I'll survive.”

~

Less than an hour later, you were seated in his room. His home wasn't far from the attack, and he sat in silence as you tended to his wounds. He watched your face intently, the adrenaline from before had worn off for both of you and the weight of the words he spoke had started to wear on you both.

The silence had been awful for him. Normally, he'd make you laugh, or there was some witty back and forth between the two of you. You’d become a close friend in a short time. His feelings for you wereones he tried to swallow and hide, but he failed.

“I'm sorry.” He decided to break the silence first. “I never meant for you to be caught in the middle of something you never asked for.”

You silently wiped blood from his chin before sitting back and away from him. “I do not wish to hurt anyone's feelings.”

He smiled sadly, looking at his lap, “I will be honest with you, my feelings are hurt all the time. You are so, obviously in love with another man, and I do find comfort in the fact that you are happy and that he returns your love.”

He swallowed thickly, “I want you to be happy, truly. You are my friend, and I do not wish you any ill, but I know what I feel in my heart, and some days, it simply aches.”

You looked down, your lip quivering, and he felt an immense amount of guilt. He saw you part your lips to speak, and he put his hand on your knee to stop you.

“You do not need to apologize or feel guilt. I do not blame you as you have done nothing wrong. I said before, and I mean it, your friendship is not a consolation prize. It is an honor. Truly. I value our friendship more than I can say.”

You looked at him, swallowing thickly, “There's nothing wrong with you, Isil. You are funny and brave and loyal. You are a good friend and a good man.”

He smiled again, of course you would comfort him in this moment. You were simply that kind of person, and that's why he adored you so. “I'm also incredibly attractive.”

You laughed softly, wiping at your eyes.

“I should not have said it,” he spoke sincerely once more, “That was unfair to you. I hope that we can move past this. I hope we can still be friends.”

You smiled at him and nodded, “I've never had a friend like you before. I just do not wish to hurt you.”

He shook his head. Did you not know you were a rose? He'd grasp tight the thorny stem if it meant he got to view the blossom. “I am fine. I will be fine.”

You wet your lips and nodded, picking at the skin of your palm.

“Truly, don't worry. The women of Middle Earth will be throwing themselves at my feet after I save them from the orc scourge. I will have to fight them off, me and Berek may not make it back.”

You laughed softly, “You are a strange man.”

“You are a strange woman. You show up to our shores with an elf and the long-lost king of the southlands. Your friends assault our people, commit treason, and you start yelling explectives in our streets.”

You glared at him, and he couldn't help but laugh. Relief flooded his body as things settled back to normal, and he escorted you home. His heart did ache when he saw you with him but a part of him knew there was more to come between the two of you, weather a deeper bond of friendship or romance, he did not know.

And he was not wrong, for 3000 years later, a part of him and a part of you would carry on in a ranger, sat at an inn and about to embark on a journey that would change the fate of all life.

[randomfoggytiger]

"My Touchstone": the Turning Point

Dedicated to the anon who asked:

I would love to hear your thoughts on how the “touchstone” conversation changed Mulder and Scully’s relationship. Was it this scene that propelled them into a romantic relationship?

To answer that question, I have to back up a bit to Fight the Future. Actually, let's back up even further-- to the cancer arc-- so we can get a clearer picture of the relationship between these two Avoidants (post here.)

FORWARD AND BACKWARD

Mulder realizes the extent of his feelings for Scully in Memento Mori.

I posit Scully's already known her feelings since at least early Season 2; but her temperament leads her to suppress, rather than express, emotional wants or needs. Never Again (posts here and here) was the result of both Season 3's on-and-off jealousy and Mulder's avoidance of a normal life (Home, post here) and search for his tragic soulmate (The Field Where I Died.) Because of this, Scully tries to pinpoint and grapple with her "endless line", realizing-- too late-- that she wanted recognition (and more) from Mulder (as spelled out in the script, here.) Mulder realizes this, too, and lets the matter drop.

For Scully, it's advantageous to keep everything unsaid, largely because Mulder isn't ready... for anything, really (as discussed in the Home post linked above, and demonstrated by this clip.) Everything he's been drawn to or attracted by has an ephemeral, fleeting resemblance to some other normalcy he craves (post here)-- but has never, ever lasted. Except Scully.

So, Mulder realizes his feelings, Scully escapes cancer by the skin of her teeth, and we arrive at Detour... where he runs from the motel, chasing after his monster case.

Some read this moment as Mulder realizing and dodging Scully's intentions, others that he was completely blind to her intentions. I file it as the latter; but we also have ample evidence of Mulder noticing Scully's actions briefly before losing focus in favor of another tantalizing mystery (ex. the beginning of The Unnatural.) He misses the forest for the trees in his personal life-- or rather, he doesn't see the value in fixating on it beyond a few superficial check-ins here and there (we'll get to that.) Scully's always by his side, they have the work, he wants answers, why change? It's the same question he asks her in other contexts (ex. "Why now? Why Boggs?" in Beyond the Sea.)

Season 5 continues. It's a rough year for Mulder (post here.) And for Scully: The End is another episode on a pile of episodes where she feels she's "failed" Mulder, leading to her dispirited goodbye in FTF.

Thus, we arrive at Fight the Future: the moment that forces Mulder to make a confession or lose Scully. To him, her importance was never in question; but the hard part is admitting how broken he feels without her. He was afraid to do more in their partnership because... what would happen if things changed? His fear is rooted in the "What if?", and holds him back from a course of action. Scully's fear is rooted in "Did I choose right?", and manifests after she decides on a course of action (A Christmas Carol's doubts after joining the FBI, Never Again after four years in, all things after the Season of Secret Sex, etc.)

Despite the good that came from his hallway, Mulder's greatest fear is realized when Scully nearly dies after he confesses he needs her. This kicks him into retreat mode (post here)-- "go be a doctor", he tells her. It's Scully who says, "I can't", and clings to his hand, who refuses to give up. That is important, because it's another example of how reliant on Scully Mulder is, to the detriment of his own growth, at times.

Mulder takes her words to mean that Scully is unflinchingly by his side-- which is true. What isn't is his next assumption: that they're on the same page.

They're not, really.

THE IMPORTANCE OF SEASON 6

In The Beginning, Scully hasn't felt the need to change-- she's a scientist, she needs proof-- but she hasn't confronted and overcome her unnecessary doubts, either. Mulder, meanwhile, demonstrates he hasn't changed, either-- and, more importantly, how far removed he is still if from a functioning relationship... as Scully suspected. Hurt that she didn't back him up before their superiors-- which resulted in them losing the files-- he hides behind frustration and anger. Scully feels rejected, and lo and behold! Diana appears; and wins back some ground with Mulder while Scully loses Gibson Praise. By the end of the episode, Mulder doesn't want to cosign to Scully's theory because her science, he thinks, betrayed them before. And lo and behold! It kind of did. But it didn't this time, when it's too late.

Where does that place them early Season 6? As an enclosed unit, with Mulder pillaging the basement-- without consulting Diana-- and sneaking off on his own or taking Scully with him on his misadventures. For all that could be wrong between them, a lot is still right; and both put in the effort to include and watch out for the each other.

Then Two Fathers and One Son (posts here, here, and here) shakes them apart: Mulder doesn't want to believe yet another ally is using and manipulating him; but gives in and goes to investigate Diana when Scully threatens to walk if he doesn't listen to her. He's speared in the Achilles Heel, however-- fatalism in the face of the inevitable-- and almost gives up completely before Scully yells him back from the brink. This happens again in Amor Fati; but he finally learns his lesson there. Scully is visibly angry with him at the end of the episode... and then we have the next few episodes as if nothing happened.

Agua Mala completely resolves their festering from One Son (yes, it's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it resolution; and, yes, I need to sit down and write that out sometime) and propels them into their old-- dare I say, lighthearted-- routine and banter (i.e. Monday, Arcadia, etc.)

An important side note: To accurately place where Mulder and Scully were romantically during this period, we have to figure out if there was lingering tension post One Son. The facts simply don't support that narrative. We see in Arcadia that Scully was enjoying herself at first-- only brushing Mulder off initially when he used her as part of his schmaltzy facade (during their arrival)-- until her partner began poking at her, too (posts here), to maintain distance between them (post here.) We see in Alpha (posts here) that their banter was fun and lighthearted until she found out Mulder kept information relevant to that case from her; and that that information was yet another woman he wanted her to trust without question because he did. (Regardless, she still looked out for his best interests and sympathized with him after Karin's death.) We are shown in Milagro (posts here) that her tops are dropping lower and lower in an unconscious desire to grab Mulder's attention; but more importantly, that Mulder still hasn't considered her in all the ways Dana Katherine Scully exists. Yet, tension only arises when Scully feels overlooked, not displaced-- a creeping of her old assumptions and Mulder's missed signals in Never Again 2.0, not a minimization of her value ala One Son. We see in The Unnatural that she's survived Padgett and is setting subtlety aside for the first time in their relationship; so no tension there at all.

In short, we see Scully moving on and wanting Mulder to move on with her, too... and Mulder either not getting the hint outright (the beginning of Arcadia and Milagro), or getting distracted by the next shiny case instead, despite her efforts (Alpha, The Unnatural.)

The Unnatural: stage one of Mulder's mature development (and you can thank David Duchovny for each of these stages, by the way.) I.e. Detour with unmistakably romantic overtures, in case Mulder missed them the first time (which seems to be a pattern for Scully: near death, survival, resolution, and overtures.) Mulder would have to be thick to miss her obvious flirting, but he still loses himself in another x-file and runs off to badger Arthur Dales about it-- meaning, at this point, Scully has his attention, but not his full attention. Scully takes this as a matter of course-- because that's how Mulder's been from Season 1 (i.e. The Jersey Devil's "Unlike you, Mulder, I would like to have a life"/"I have a life.") However, Mulder finally learns "the mystery of the heart"; and decides to test this out with Scully on the baseball field. It's a small, small, small step because he's not used to this "normal", this appreciation for small, perhaps insignificant things. More to the point, he's probably afraid to do more-- was afraid she wouldn't even show up, per his expression; and will be afraid to follow-up, per his actions in Amor Fati and Millennium. But he did it; and Scully knew what Mulder was meaning to demonstrate ("Shut up, Mulder, I'm playing baseball.), as Duchovny intended.

So, where does that take us? The IVF arc, of course (post here.) It's a failure, splat (or not a part of some fans' canon); and that keeps up moving rapidly along to the next beat in their relationship.

Field Trip. Oh, boy. Field Trip: the episode that prepares both agents for the foundational upheaval of the Biogenesis-Amor Fati arc. Scully can't solely rely on her pat scientific rationalizations; and Mulder doesn't trust her blind loyalty and belief. And both are undeniably coded as a couple throughout their "trip." The main takeaway from this experience is that they doubt themselves more than they doubt each other; and their doubts in each other pale in comparison to their unshakeable trust.

MY TOUCHSTONE

That leads us neatly to Biogenesis-Amor Fati... which we shall mostly skip for brevity's sake, as this arc accomplishes very little (despite its exorbitant screen time.)

Diana shows up, but has to admit Mulder has been asking for Scully "since last night." The barb doesn't land for Scully (while the implication highly amuses Skinner, post here); and after their resolution in Season 6-- Milagro and The Unnatural and the IVF arc and, most recently, Field Trip-- she remains unshaken in her conviction of Mulder's loyalty. She flies to Africa, touches the baby-restorer ship, and accomplishes... very little before flying back and finding out Tena has turned her son over to CSM.

Mulder, meanwhile, is stuck in dreamland. @cecilysass wrote an incredible post on the topic here; and @jaspertedd and @deathsbestgirl's theories-- that Mulder's dreams are influenced by those around him (post here)-- are interesting and pertinent additions. If true, that speaks to a deeper hole in Mulder's psyche he's yet to repair: doubting himself so much so that the influence of others takes precedence over his conscience. We've seen that before many times (one of which is Diana's manipulation in One Son, another of which was CSM's temptation in Redux II); but in each case, it was Scully-- a stronger moral barometer-- that kept him back or influenced his courage in the right direction. Mulder doesn't need to borrow her conscience, just her strength to act on his own.

"You were my constant, my touchstone"/"And you are mine" speaks volumes about where these characters are.

Mulder needed to accurately see that a life, a world where he was handed all his answers and given atonement for all his trespasses was empty and shallow without Scully. He needed, further, to shake off that side of himself that would rather wallow than fight, that put Scully in a position, over and over again, to save his life (Demons) or to talk him back from the edge (The Ghosts That Stole Christmas, though a mirage, was based in a truth.) For Mulder, Amor Fati is the crest of a long, arduous hill that took him decades to climb; and now tips him down, at last, towards maturity, self-actualization, and closure.

Scully needed to come to a different, frightening realization: that the cornerstones of her beliefs might be built on lies, too. She needed to open her mind to possibilities that challenged or even betrayed her beliefs-- to overcome the fear inside that was still inflicting self-doubt. For Scully, Amor Fati was the beginning of the end of her security in "the facts"-- but one that gave her the opportunity to step away from "the tried and true" in order to find herself: her intuition, and her happiness.

"You were my constant, my touchstone"/"And you are mine" is the verbalization of their mutual revelations.

THE END FOR MULDER, THE BEGINNING FOR SCULLY

Amor Fati, for Mulder, was a Part 2 to Redux II and a do-over for One Son: he was confronted by his conscience and learned, once again, to stand by it. But not alone, not yet. For Scully, it was the beginning of her journey, one that culminates in all things (post here.) Her relationship struggles aren't rooted in an upfront fear about moving forward in a relationship-- only what comes after, a pattern in all her relationships and major life decisions (post here.)

Yet, Mulder doesn't make a move in his hallway-- doesn't even try-- after his touchstone speech. Why?

Because Scully was overwhelmed and conflicted and needed space to work through her (Diana-adjacent) guilt-- the same feelings he'd battled with throughout Season 4 and 5: failing and failing and failing. With a little space and a little time for him to recover and a little case thrown in to get her back on track (Hungry), their equilibrium is reestablished.

And that leads us to Millennium and the Season of Secret Sex.

It's Mulder who initiated his confession in Fight the Future, it's Mulder who invited her to play ball under the stars, and it's Mulder who affirmed she was his touchstone; so, it's Mulder who initiates their first kiss. Scully continues to hold herself in a waiting position-- standing at attention, Starbuck-style, until her captain makes the first move (something that all things shifts, as well)-- but all bets are off when he does. Mulder's first step initiates all her ensuing ones: jealously knocking into him in and playing with his tie in Rush, teasing about all being "right with the world" when they (hypothetically) return home in The Goldberg Variation, and each and every fond ribbing she tosses his way. There's a resolution between the two that isn't shaken until En Ami's trickery (which... was a topic all its own, post here) and all things's doubts.

Then we arrive at Closure. This episode is the resolution to Mulder's character arc-- not only because he found his sister and, effectively, laid her to rest, but because he learned to trust to her happy ending without needing Scully to believe him. For the first time, he exercises a "conscience", if you will, separately from Scully-- she is his touchstone, still, but not his whole being. A monumental change from Redux II and Folie a Deux and Fight the Future: then, it was "I knew you'd tell me if I was making a mistake" and "no one else" on earth believes him and "I don't want to do this alone. I don't even know if I can." Now, she remains his touchstone, his realignment; but he can stand on his own two feet without curling into whatever shape will earn him love from others.

all things is to Scully what Closure was to Mulder. Her touchstone claimed her as his in Amor Fati; and Scully thought this meant Mulder promised to always be there when she navigated strange waters... and then he ditches her for crop circles in England. Mulder doesn't understand why she's making a big deal of weekend work now instead of every weekend before; and the two separate in not bad but not great spirits (ala Never Again.) Feeling adrift, Scully runs into Daniel Waterston, and we know what happens from there. In short, all things forces Scully to have distance from Mulder's influence-- as Amor Fati had forced him from her-- in order to choose, with a clear conscience, if this path, this touchstone, is the right one for her. all things finally sets her free from her inhibitions: she guides Mulder back to their apartment and lets him ramble on and on without feeling displaced or devalued by his split focus.

Scully wouldn't be driven to this crossroads and its resolution had not Mulder calmed her self-reproach and claimed her as his "touchstone", allowing her to come back to and lean on that truth in her darkest hours. As we know, she's always relied on Mulder's strength-- Irresistible, Memento Mori, Elegy, etc.-- but had yet to rely on her own. all things, finally, guides her into her own strength and abilities.

COULD A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THEM HAVE WORKED BEFORE?

Realistically, anything can work with enough dedication and elbow grease (from both parties.) But, actually factually, the reciprocity needed for an intimate relationship wouldn't have been equal until after Mulder's return from "another life, another world." While they loved each other, Mulder's mercurial ways would wear on Scully's security, and Scully's sudden doubts and distance would dig Mulder's insecurities deeper in.

Mulder, the FBI profiler, was more strongly aware of this than Scully; while Scully, the scientific medical doctor, was more alertly aware of Mulder's constant retreat and instability than her own conflicting, distancing, brewing emotions. He had to learn to stand on his own two feet: a man who railed against the sky and stood up to his superiors and welcomed an existence as a pariah; and who would crumble the instant love was offered then revoked. She had to learn to trust her own instincts: a woman who rigidly tried to rein in her insecurities through facts and detached logical thinking; and who would implode with doubt the instant someone she respected or trusted questioned her decisions or intuition.

Could it or would it have worked? Yes, I think so. But Mulder and Scully were, I believe, happiest to begin a relationship when they did, on their own terms. They needed to be each other's touchstone first, not his "one-in-five-billion" or her "strength."

Partners, in all things.

CONCLUSION

"My touchstone" was the awakening for both: of how far Mulder had come, and much farther Scully had to go. Moreover, it solidified the nature of their relationship: unshakeable reliance and dependable trust, even if the whole world was (is) falling apart.

In short, Anon? Yes.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[cometlevi]

Levi’s conclusion brings me so much happiness I can’t even fully put it into words, he lives the rest of his life in peace without any major threats. He can truly just live how he wants to now without the weight of the many expectations he was driven to uphold as a Captain. This is not to say that he didn’t face future struggles, he most likely did with his injuries and various psychological scars but also with adapting to a life without any mortal threats, such as titans.

This is man who has only known battle and strife for the majority of his existence, so a life without any of that to him is probably a very foreign concept but also very consoling and exciting for him, naturally. I think Levi giving out sweets to the kids at the end of the finale is such an amazing testament to his character. Even thought we have seen his selflessness demonstrated many times in the past seasons, this scene in the finale is the one that truly ties his character together in my own opinion.

He’s gone out of his way to provide for those kids and this is particularly moving when you consider the turbulent and traumatic childhood that he experienced and survived. Levi gives these kids a reason to look up and smile despite the long journey of healing ahead of them all, and I just think that’s truly so heroic and yet again highlights the importance of Levi’s morals and his nature.