#be real with me why won’t they just do it. women on the island are so beautiful and these white boys are still somehow always ending up

[laniidae-passerine]

one thing I cannot wrap my head around on Death in Paradise is that no detective ever ends up in a relationship with a woman on the island. I don’t even care if you emigrate back home with her, maybe there’s a beautiful Saint Marie woman who loves the idea of cold and rain, but like not one of them??? an entire island and the showrunners just actively refuse to let it happen. c’mon now

[babygirl-riley]

Paradise

Simon keeps telling himself it is the last time but keeps coming back to you.

“…try not to get your hopes up, cause I probably won’t stay. I said I’m on my way.”

Warnings: smut, swearing, if you squint you will see some angst, fluff a bit, touch deprived Simon

*Simon POV*

simon x reader guide

simon x reader smut list

*************************************

God why did it have to feel so good? Why couldn’t he be able to restrain himself from coming back again? You haunt his thoughts, thinking about how you whimper for him. How you wrap around his cock like it was the only thing you could live for.

He never goes back. Never spends the night. Never saves numbers. Never willing and wanting attention. Yet here he is in between your legs, slowly bringing you to where he needs you to be. Your pussy drenched in your cum, stuffed with his large fingers. Two of them fit in there spreading your hole to prepare for his cock.

How your hands will grab his mask him imagining that it’s his hair instead. God how touch deprived he really is, maybe that was it. He never really had intimate moments like these, at least lately. For what he feels. Bloody hell he feels like a fucking fool.

God how you look at him while he is eating you out. Your eyes begging for more, wanting everything from him. Wanting him. For how long has this been going on? Long enough he would think too long. Your moans drive him to thumb your clit harder, tighter circles, as he does sloppy kiss on your neck.

“F-fuck Si.” You whispered, whimpering basically.

It had him craving you even more, he never told his real name. Government name. It was ALWAYS his code name. “Ghost” that was it for other women he slept with, you. “I need you.” He whispered into your ear easing his fingers as you released your second orgasm.

He saw your smirk forming on your face. You slid your fingers, lazily underneath his balaclava gripping his hair. It made him moan, almost damn near whimper. “Please.” He said his voice lower then it already was. Making it sound desperate.

Desperate. Something that Simon would never show to anyone else. You plagued his skin, burning it for more touch. Plaguing his thoughts. It is now coming into his thoughts during down time on missions. Your eyes. Your hair. Your lips. Your bloody laugh.

He shouldn’t think of someone that is so pure. So innocent. No blood on your hands. Simon is a monster, a grim reaper ready for someone’s reckoning. You weren’t like that, always giving a helping hand. Simon kept telling himself that he will darken your life, turning you into a monster. He can’t do that. Not to his angel. His light.

“Simon,” You whispered having him look into your eyes. “I need you too.”

He moaned as you gently pushed him down, he could have over powered you but fuck. Your touch making him feel on cloud nine, blocking his common senses. You placed your soaking pussy against his hardened clothed cock. “Let me take care of you.” You whispered to his ear nibbling at him before kissing down his neck and biting.

He couldn’t stop feeling the shudder and tingle sensation running down his spine. Everything he though of before gone. You made him feel like he was on retirement, on a paradise island. Just you and him. Your hands running down his scarred abdomen, as you kissed each deep scar, each burn mark.

That is what could be the reason he comes back. Making him feel like he wasn’t a scary monster, that you could be the angel purifying the dark one. “Fuck sweetheart,” he whispered watching as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. God how beautiful you looked, fucked out, glimmering in sweat, the precum and salvia mixed together. “You are just a beautiful minx.” His muscles started to twitch.

His grunting became more close together. Simon wanted needed to thrust up into your mouth. You made him feel so good, him being engulfed in the scent of both of your arousals. You flattened your tongue the vein that stuck out the most causing him to hold his breath. You ended with a long slow suck to his tip, playing with it with your tongue.

“Fuuuck,” he said his eyes rolling in the back of his head. “You make me fee—fuck.” He couldn’t even finish before he could feel his orgasm coming. He softly pushed you off before he was panting.

Simon laid back trying to gather his thoughts and breath. He felt you crawl yourself back up kissing sloppy kisses. He felt your hand being placed on his cheek, causing him to open his eyes. You both stared for a moment as his hands trailed up and down your body before gripping his cock. You bit your lower lip as he pressed against your entrance.

Simon wanted to just slam into putting himself into his paradise. What made him feel whole. Before he could do anything you pushed yourself down. Which surprised him, usually you waited, his grunted hard feeling your walls making room for his fat cock. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you panted slowly. Simon could see stars, his skin flaming. His cock nestling near your cervix.

Both of your sweat glistening off each other sticking to each other’s skin. “Simon,” He didn’t even realize that he was just staring. You smiled before running your thumb down his lips. “Kiss me.”

How could he say no to that? Usually if someone isn’t higher rank then him he wouldn’t listen. But to hell with rank with you, you could tell him to jump and he would respond with how high and how long. He leaned up grabbing your back and hugging you closer to him. You giggled as he crashed his lips to yours. It was sloppy teeth clattering. Just where he wanted you.

He lifted his hips and slamming into. You whimpered as he did it again, harder. You slid your fingers under his mask and grabbed his hair. God how his spine tingled and his cock twitched. He wanted more so needy of him wanting more from you.

He felt your pussy clenching so fucking hard. “Good girl, there ya go baby. That’s it,” You were clawing at his back as your hips met with his. He looked down where you joined the white ring appearing. It would make his eyes roll just knowing his seed was in you. That you are his and his only.

Simon was feeling he was close. He wanted to cum with you, both going into bliss. “Ah yes please please I-I wanna fuck!” You yelled bouncing on his cock harder. The noises would be horrific for some people from both of their juices, mixing together.

He placed his forehead against yours. Feeling sweat against one another. “Yes princess let go, I’m here with ya.” He grunted in between.

Simon felt his orgasm coming right through as your pussy clenched him hard. He started to to spasm, rolling his head back his breath hitching. His orgasm hit hard, harder than he has ever been before. His legs twitching and tensing, feeling the cum going right into you. Painting her walls white. Claiming you. Like no other man could.

You slowed down as you slowly laid on his chest. Both of you were heaving, he never had a woman ride him before, he always like to feel in control. Simon’s breathing steadied as he rubbed his hands up and down your back. He sat there feeling like he landed in his paradise. Simon haven’t felt like this in years, being peaceful, feeling safe. His brother would make fun of him, stating that he was becoming a teddy bear.

Your breathing started to steady, becoming normal. Snapping him back to you. “Can you stay?” You asked hesitantly, feeling his dick soften more inside you.

Simon sighed, he shouldn’t. He needs to leave, get up, and go home. Last time he would see you. Delete the number and never see her again. Literally “Ghost” you never talk to you. You sat up, he realized how long he was silent.

“Or um…” You stuttered finding words.

His heart started to beat hard and fast. Simon placed his hand on your cheek moving strands of your hair. “Love to.”

Fuck. Only if he could say no.

[theegemini92]

There’s no need for a High Lady

There are rules, it’s something sjm enforced in ACOTAR than any of her book series. This is why we have so much theories in these book series.

So my question is Why does everyone want a High Lady so bad? Especially ones chosen by the land? Just because there was one or have been some does not mean it’s a given.

FROM MY UNDERSTANDING, Fionn and his best friend started a rebellion. The only reason Theia was involved was because she was his mate just like feyre is to Rhys. Fionn was High King. It does not mean theia wasn’t powerful in her own right. Just like feyre. She was given a title. It didn’t say she was ChOSEN by the land. Yes neither did it say Fionn was too

HOWEVER

“ Fionn united the territories of Prythian, becoming High King and making Theia his High Queen. (All titles) Theia claimed the Dusk Court to herself, turning the place where she had once served as a slave into her sanctuary. With the tithe to the Daglan gone, the Fae saw their powers strengthen, as did their connection to the land. The island's powers became Theia's power: dusk and twilight.”

So in this sense did it choose her? Because the fae are all connected to the land not just High Lords for they are Power itself. She might not have been the only one to control dusk and twilight. Many fae did. For instance it’d make sense Lucien can wield fire instead of “day light” because his mother can wield fire too. I’m sure in every court creatures and fae alike have a sort of winter power to make ice, wield fire, air, earth etc.

Fionn said his next successor he would choose to rule was their first daughter, Helena who is Bryce ancestor (so technically Bryce is the rightful heir to prythian)

But I digress:

In our real world, only women give birth and THATS OKAY. Women can do so much more than men physically can and that’s ok. Women have ruled kingdoms, tribes etc not because of their physical strength and intimidation. So why do we want to share.. now WHY DO WE HAVE TO SHARE A SPACE WHEN WE CAN CARVE OUR OWN.?

Feyre the curse breaker is so much better than Feyre the high lady…

Why can’t we woman carve so much more than fight for positions men squabble for?

My next take is with hyburn. The king of hyburn isn’t a high lord. But he was powerful, Drakon and Miriam? They aren’t high lords but I’m sure powerful too in their own right?

So what is wrong with only males having this ability? Maybe in this world that’s how it works and that’s okkk…

Just because a female takes a crown doesn’t mean she’d do any better… amarantha and feyre are examples… look at what Theia did? In the end they are just like the males…

I won’t care one way or another if a female is chosen but if a female isn’t that’s fine. That’s the natural order or the world of prythian. Maybe females play a vital role that has been forgotten and that would be such a great take making the males revere their females. Instead of fight or subjugation like Rhys suggested. If Nesta were to use the artifacts she could become queen. But to me a queen needs to understand each courts magic. Feyre could’ve been perfect for the role cus she has a tiny piece but that queen would also have to be POWER ITSELF. Not a spec 😂 that queen will have to be multicultural, she’d have to know the ways and language of every court and kingdom of prythian so she can empathize and punish accordingly. I’m sorry but three human women who disliked the fea and somehow still don’t and don’t understand their ways will not cut it.

I hope sjm creates a new path for females maybe even stronger than the males or give us a queen who understands and knows all her courts and subjects.

What do you think? Do you really want high ladies?

[intricate-ritualz]

trans percy looking into circe’s magic cloth mirror and seeing himself taller, with broader shoulders and a sharper jawline. he’s 13 and insecure, he’s going through the wrong puberty, and he’s looking at a version of himself that he never thought he’d get to see. he already feels out of place on the island, “where are all the dudes?” and circe is telling him that she can make this cis version of percy reality. and all he has to do is drink some potion.

“the first step is admitting that you're not happy the way you are."

he knows deep down it’s a trap, but circe’s magically aided manipulation is convincing, and maybe a part of percy wants to believe it’ll work. he knows he still has a way to go in his transition, but why should he have to wait? he’s surrounded by magical beings (including his own father) that could instantaneously put him in the right body… but choose not to. why won’t they just help him out?

“why question it? i mean, don't you want the perfect you right away?”

and here is circe, practically giving his dysphoria a name and a voice. telling him she agrees that he doesn’t have enough muscle or body hair and he isn’t tall enough and his voice isn’t deep enough. telling him these feelings are valid and it’s understandable why percy would hate himself so much, find his body so foreign. telling him there’s no need to find himself through transition, because she can make him cis. make him palatable.

“the hardest part of the makeover process is giving up control. you have to decide: do you want to trust your judgment about what you should be, or my judgment?"

and then he’s turned into a guinea pig. his body is made more wrong than it was before. how could he have been so stupid? he feels completely helpless and out of place but. doesn’t he always?

“men are pigs, percy jackson.”

but he’s still told that he isn’t the same as the other guinea pigs. he’s less feral. more docile. the perfect class pet, something to be ogled at from behind a glass wall. he doesn’t belong on circe’s island of perfect girls and women of course, but he also doesn’t belong here with the other real guinea pigs. maybe he’s actually a hamster.

“i thought about what circe had said: ‘see, percy? you've unlocked your true self!’ i still felt changed. not just because i had a sudden desire to eat lettuce. i felt jumpy, like the instinct to be a scared little animal was now a part of me. or maybe it had always been there. that's what really worried me.”

[saywhatjessie]

Biscuits with the Bisexuals (plus Trent)

Day five of the Advent calendar! Using this list. Day 5: Holiday Baking. Fandom: Ted Lasso - Pairing: TedTrent & RoyJamie .7k[Ao3]

“It’s real nice for you to let us use your kitchen, Roy.”

Jamie heard Roy grunt as he led their guests into the kitchen. Ted Lasso’s smiling face appeared through the entryway, his wide American eyes staring unashamedly around Roy’s house. Trent Crimm followed with only fractionally less obvious curiosity.

“He’s letting you use his kitchen, darling,” Trent told Ted, pulling himself onto a barstool at the island. “I’m here to look pretty and heckle.”

“Oh, mint, me too!” Jamie said, hopping up next to him. “I usually sit on the counter, though.”

“Keep your arse off my counters,” Roy glared but Jamie just grinned back, sunnily. He huffed a breath, hiding his own smile (but Jamie still saw it. He always saw it.) before turning back to Ted. “And I’m not letting you use my kitchen, I’m putting you to work.”

Ted nodded, affably. “Well point the way and I’ll make like Riri, Roy-Roy.”

“No,” Roy said.

Jamie rolled his eyes, turning to Trent. “He’s just grumpy because he was left out of his family text thread on who was bringing what to the family biscuit exchange.”

“Biscuits aren’t even a Hanukkah tradition!” Roy shouted. “Fucking Christians, ruining everything.”

“He has to blame the Christians because it was Phoebe’s idea but he can’t ever blame Phoebe for anything.”

“The Christians got to her! She’s an impressionable child! Not her fault.”

Jamie gestured at Roy as if to say ‘see?’. Trent snorted.

“Well if you don’t wanna do cookies why are you so steamed you weren’t in the group chat?”

Roy grunted, turning away from them to bring out the stand mixer.

“He’s mad because it was only women in the group chat.” Jamie told them. “HIs sister Ruth was the one who told him about it, all confused because she doesn’t cook or nothing. Roy then made a big stink about gender essentialism and how he should have been given the option to contribute, even if he thinks a biscuit exchange is dumb.”

“It is dumb,” Roy grumbled, pulling our various measuring bowls.

“I know, babe,” Jamie told him, giving him a sympathetic put he couldn’t see. Trent snickered into his hand.

“Well, hey, Roy, that’s great! Standing up for gender equality.” Ted said, grinning. “You’re like that tall fella from High School Musical who wants to bake and play basketball. You won’t stick to this status quo.”

Jamie snorted. “Except Roy can’t bake. He’s dead good at cooking and that but he can’t make a biscuit for love or honey.”

“It’s love or money you twat.”

“Oi, is that any way to speak to your honey?”

Roy growled. Jamie winked at him.

“Well, Roy, I am happy to lend my expertise,” Ted chimed in. “Might be fun to coach on you something I actually know something about. Switch it up.”

Roy snorted but his mouth tilted into an almost smile which cheered everyone up.

Jamie leaned over the island. “Get us some tea, Roy?”

“Get it yourself,” Roy said but started the kettle himself anyway.

“So what are you baking biscuits for, Coach?” Jamie asked, crossing his arms on the counter.

“Well, Rebecca has praised me a bit too much in front of the rest of Nelson Road “ Ted winced. “So I’m making a super batch so everyone can get some. Little too much for my tiny kitchen.”

Jamie hummed. “Roy, can I try some of Coach’s biscuits?”

“No.”

Jamie whined. “Just one! While he’s here! If everyone’s gonna be talking about how lush they are, I wanna know how lush they are. Even if I can’t have more than one.”

“We can make him do squats to work it off,” Trent reasoned.

Roy snorted. “You know nothing about nutrition or fitness plans for athletes, Crimm. He’d do cardio, not muscle training.”

“Jumping jacks, then.” Trent shrugged. “I’m not picky.”

“You’re a freak, Crimm,” Roy told him, but he didn’t sound unhappy about it.

Ted and Jamie laughed.

“Well let’s get bakin’, Clay Aiken!’

“Perfect appropriate queer reference, Ted,”

“Thanks, sweetheart,”

“You’re insufferable.” Roy told them.

“So are we, though!” Jamie responded cheerfully.

“Do you think the oven’s preheated enough for me to put my head in?” Roy asked.

“Are you a biscuit?” Trent asked.

“More of a tart,” Jamie responded.

“No, Jamie, you’re the Tartt.”

“This was a mistake.” Roy said.

They made 12 dozen biscuits.

[dalyntha]

Howie Mandel, a meager and unassuming opinion

The other day I posted about “Deal or No Deal Island”, and during the course of that post I explained the basics of the original “Deal or No Deal” show. I of course mentioned the host, Howie Mandel. Why would you shorten Howard to Howie? Howard really is an awful name, but Howie sounds juvenile.

According to the many (one) source, HM was born in 1955. That means he is 69 years old this year. (Stoo snickering). I have a hard time believing it, but he’s older than my parents.

He’s old enough to vividly remember the civil rights movement, a handful of wars (that we know about 👀) and like, a crap ton of other important stuff. He was 30 ish when the Berlin Wall fell. It may not seem like that big of a deal, I mean, there’s a lot of people that age, I mean, come on, the “boomers”. AKA my grandparents generation had little to no self control and/or birth control.

It’s just, Howie does not look like he’s about to ding 70. There’s a handful of celebrities that have really aged well, that’s another post. But Howie is - different. I think, and I could be wrong, that Howie Mandel is indeed an extraterrestrial being. This is why, I’m sure many of my readers noticed, I called him a creature. I can’t definitively say he’s an alien but he is a creature. Now, if you have seen the stage of the “Deal or No Deal” show, it’s lit up, and like, for sure a space ship deconstructed into the stage. Howie lives deep beneath the ship/stage, in quarters that “NBC” Has provided for him, in addition to many other forms of payment, because Howie requires intense medical care. Not used to the germs that humans carry, his weak alien immune system (well from our point of view, I mean, it could be that he also can’t handle our atmosphere yet he persists…just suffers for it by being almost paralyzed by common human germs. His people have cleverly covered this up by having him tell everyone that he suffers from OCD, and more specifically, he is a germophobe. Putting him in harms way every time he did a show by letting middle aged women hug him and good ol boys grab his hand for a handshake. Doctors here have struggled to adapt our medicine to treat him, but thanks to the profits of the game show, they are able to provide him every effort.

I won’t go into his career much other than to say that he apparently voiced Gizmo from “Gremlins”. That was a pretty cute little thing until it’s fur melted into a slick acidic mess of a monster. It didn’t terrify me as a child (i think i was 5 when it was in theaters, i wanted to go and my mom said no) but it did really piss me off to have the cute thing do that.

Pretty sure HM has done a lot of stand up comedy, interviews, and of course AGT. It’s all to keep his cover, any platform where he can comedically display his humanity, that’s where he is.

I don’t think anyone knows what his real motives are. Are there more like him? Will they come here in more game show ready space ships? I mentioned his youthful appearance, and of course this will eventually catch up with him, unless him or his people…have already planned our convenient end before then?

I’ll leave you with that, dear reader. Will be come for you? Will you hear a constant gentle rapping, rapping at your chamber door?

“Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from offmy door!”

Quoth the Raven, “Deal…..or no deal??”

@twig-gy

[scenearcee]

hi guys I wrote a little wanderer reconnecting with his mom hurt/comfort fic with not a lot of context and probably several plot fallacies + my own headcanons it’s below enjoy

characters: Wanderer, Raiden Shogun, Ei, Yae Miko, Aether, Paimon

categories: angst, hurt/comfort, family reconnecting???

title: Bated Breath

author: me, Pierre Scenearcee

How he had even gotten involved in this, he didn’t know, but here he was- facing the Raiden Shogun for the first time in 500 years.

And yet, her eyes lacked the spark of recognition.

Walking alongside his companion Aether, who is glancing at him with concern, he keeps his eyes pointed at the floor. The last time he set foot on these sullen floors, his name was Kunikuzushi, and his life had barely begun. Today, his name is Volt, and the world has all but forgotten his existence, the mark he left on Teyvat as a whole.

Aether had asked for Volt’s help looking for something in Inazuma, and being a scholar from there, he found it to be a simple and painless task. But things took a turn for the serious, and reinforcements on Serai Island were necessary. There was nobody to turn to, nobody but the Shogun herself.

Sitting there, ever so refined and regal, one leg crossed over the other on her swing. Standing next to her is her familiar, kne pink haired woman with her back turned to all else in the room. A kitsune youkai, and grand maiden of the Narukami shrine. Eyes that used to pierce the one named Kunikuzushi, empty of all familiarity as they catch wind of Volt.

He clenches his fist and bows before the women before him. Women he’d respected as his mothers, centuries ago, now just the governing powers of a country that forgot his existence. The ball joints in his fingers clack together as he unballs his fists, returning to a regular standing posture. All the words exchanged between Aether and these matriarchs suddenly began to take form… these words that felt painfully empty and silent.

“…and we need backup. Lives are at stake, the infestation is getting out of hand, and this isn’t something we can handle alone!”

“Indeed, this situation appears to be dire…”

“I wonder why you bring this young gentleman with you… what a curious character, don’t you agree? Ei?”

Aether and Paimon glance at each other, turning their gaze to Volt briefly, before returning their attention to the Shogun. “This is a friend of ours, a Sumeru scholar originally from Inazuma. He was showing us around the area, and noticed the infestation.”

Yae Miko turns around, taking a few steps towards Volt, who is staring forward blankly. Something sparks in her eyes, tugging at the corners of her lips. “I think an introduction from the young gentleman himself will suffice, no?”

He speaks without lifting his head. “My name is-“

“Lift your head. Let me see your eyes when you speak to me.”

His eyes meet hers, watching the expression on her face become more dubious. “…My name is Volt. I’m a scholar studying in Sumeru, under the guidance of the god of wisdom.”

The Shogun’s attention is caught, much to Aether and Paimon’s dismay. “Step forward, Volt. Miko, return; ask your questions from your post.” Her stern tone of voice reeks of authority, and Volt wouldn’t dare to oppose that command, taking steps to the center of the room; in front of his comrades. “You may continue.”

“Ah dear friend, thank you… where were we? Ah yes, an explanation if what you do is unnecessary, however I am awfully curious where you’re from. Tell me, where in Inazuma were you born and raised?”

“… Watatsumi-“

“Lying won’t do you any good, Volt. If that is your real name, in any case.” Yae’s suspicions are confusing the Shogun, bringing her to ask a question of her own.

“Who are you, really? I cannot help but sense… that you are familiar.”

“WAIT! It doesn’t matter who he is, we have an urgent situation to deal with!” Paimon shouts.

With bated breath, the electro archon speaks. “…Miko, escort the Traveler and Paimon out. Tell Kujou Sara to send a battalion to Serai Island, following the guidance of these two. Leave me and this… stranger… alone here.” Yae Miko opens her mouth to speak, but is harshly cut off. “Your sarcasm is not needed for this private, personal matter.”

Volt can’t take his eyes off of the Shogun, even as Yae Miko and his companions brush by hesitantly. His gaze is locked with hers, and silence hangs in the air for an eternity after the door seals itself shut. She steps off of her swing, striding down the set of stairs between herself and Volt. Her expression softens with each footfall. Before long, she’s within a few feet of Volt, who suddenly backs away violently. Motion falls flat, and the silence is sliced open with a tense blade.

“Are you challenging me, almighty Raiden Shogun?” Not knowing what else to say, hiding the cracking porcelain beneath his clothes.

“… Not at all, unless that is what it takes to learn your identity. Are you challenging me, familiar stranger?”

“… No.”

The sparks in her eyes glow brighter, her expression continues to lose weight- and then, a single tear pricks her cheek.

With bated breath, she asks.

“…Kunikuzushi, is that you?”

A large crack manifests itself on Volt’s face, and a tear follows the path of shattered porcelain. His eyes widen, how was he supposed to expect this would happen? Ei steps forward, tears streaming down her cheeks, and he doesn’t back away. Brushing away his tears with her thumbs, she cups his face in her hands.

“… My boy… my lovely son…” Familiarity and love blend in a painful bolt through her gaze, piercing Volt’s soul through his own leaking gaze. “Oh dear… why couldn’t I tell? What’s wrong with me, a Mother who can’t recognize her own son?”

“I tried to erase myself from this world, almighty Shogun… defeating the power of the Ley Lines must be easy for one such as yourself.”

She takes a sharp breath in, locking eyes with her son. “Why the formality, Kunikuzushi? What fostered this distance between us?”

A shuddering breath pulls through Volt’s lips, pushing more tears from his eyes. “… there’s a lot that you still don’t know… like how you hurt me.” He pulls away from her, turning away loathingly. “You were my whole world, but when I wasn’t enough for your purposes, you abandoned me. Tossed me aside, discarded me as if I were a broken toy, an old tool.”

The sting of shock paints Ei’s face as he turns around, more cracks appearing on his body.

“Starting with yours, a series of betrayals led me to become a spiteful creature, nearly ascending to godhood, with your gnosis. Don’t cry to me, I’m nothing more than a prototype vessel to you.”

“Kunikuzushi… no, Kunikuzushi, that was never my intention my dear…” her breath is unstable and shaky. “I… I was setting you free… free from a life full of danger and misery, the likes of which I knew you couldn’t…. oh no, Kunikuzushi…”

The unthinkable happens, and a crack forms in the skin of the seemingly perfect Raiden Shogun. The vessel inhabited by Ei, a flawless puppet, programmed to perfection- cracking.

“… what the hell are you saying?”

“My dear… I had no idea that I had hurt you so much. I saw early on, how similar you were to my dearly departed sister. I had used her essence to create you… after all. Miko suggested scrapping you, starting anew with the parts left behind… but how could I do such a cruel thing to what remained of my sister?” Tears stream down her cheeks, chased by bolts of misunderstanding. “You were such a beautiful, gentle soul. I wanted a better life for you, I wanted to free you of the responsibility it takes. Kunikuzushi, I didn’t know that you would be so badly hurt. You are, very, VERY, dear to me…”

His eyes meet that of his mother’s again, a shared pain soaking their locked gaze.

“… what?”

She chuckles tearfully. “I remember the day I first gave you a sword, watching you stumble about with a blade bigger than you were. Your eyes were so full of wonder, of life… as I continued mentoring you, it became more obvious how loving you were, and to force you to carry my blade… would be cruel. Such a kind spirit, such a full heart.”

“For so long, I searched for a heart, searched for something to show me that I do have a heart. All because I had to prove I was human enough, human enough to live amongst them, to find the family that I lost. What you did made me feel worthless, because I couldn’t be what I was made for. How was I supposed to know you did this because you wanted to protect me?!” Rage burns in his throat. Yet, as gently as a breeze after a storm, Ei sweeps forwards and embraces Volt, pressing his ear to her chest- her heartbeat resounding in his mind.

“My dear… you had a heart all along, always. You got your heart from me, and from your dearly departed Aunt Makoto. You weren’t cut out to be my vessel, and that is for the better. Raising you was the most enlightening experience I’d ever had, my darling boy.”

Gold fills in the cracks across both their bodies, slowly seeping through their wounds like blood and pus. Solidifying with exposure to air, binding these scars shut. Before long, Volt finds his arms wrapping around Ei. She squeezes him, her heart directly connecting to his. Tears fall from her eyes, tears of pure love and naught much else.

“Volt… my son. You will always, ALWAYS, have a home with me. Whatever I must do to atone… I will follow you into hell and back. Anything to see the precious heart you were before, when the world had not scarred you with betrayal. To learn who you are… my precious son.”

“… Always?”

“…Always.”

[har1een]

a side ( @crimeloyalty ) ⸺ cruel summer ; i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard? the archer ; i’ve got a hundred thrown out speeches i almost said to you. delicate ; my reputation’s never been worse, so you must like me for me. dancing with our hands tied ; swaying as the room burned down.  dress ; i don’t want you like a best friend. mirrorball ; i’m still on that trapeze ; i’m still trying everything to keep you looking at me. august ; so much for summer love and saying us, ‘cause you weren’t mine to lose. ivy ; so tell me to run or dare to sit and watch what we’ll become and drink my husband’s wine. renegade ; are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these? treacherous ; nothing safe is worth the drive, and i would follow you,  follow you home. holy ground ; we block the noise with the sound of ‘i need you,’ and, for the first time, i had something to lose. begin again ; i think it’s strange that you think i’m funny ‘cause he never did. state of grace ; we learn to live with the pain; mosaic broken hearts. forever winter ; live my life scared to death he’ll decide to leave instead. false god ; the altar is my hips,  even if it’s a false god. lavender haze ; they’re bringing up my history, but you weren’t even listening. anti-hero ; one day i’ll watch as you’re leaving ‘cause you got tired of my scheming for the last time. snow on the beach ; you wanting me tonight feels impossible. high infidelity ; do i really have to to tell you how he brought me back to life? glitch ; we were supposed to be just friends.

b side ( @shepurrs ) ⸺ this is why we can’t have nice things ; stabbed me in the back while shaking my hand. all you had to do was stay ;  all i know is that you drove us off the road. the story of us ;  this is looking like a contest of who can act like they care less, but i liked it better when you were on my side. better than revenge ; soon she’s gonna find stealing other people’s toys on the playground won’t make you many friends. haunted ; something’s made your eyes go cold. last kiss ;  i never imagined we’d end like this. if this was a movie ;  it’s not the kind of ending you wanna see now. exile ;  you were my town, now i’m in exile seeing you out. my tears ricochet ; and if i’m dead to you, why are you at the wake?  mad woman ; and women like hunting witches too. champagne problems ;  she’ll patch up your tapestry that i shred.  tolerate it ; where’s that man who’d throw blankets over my barbed wire?  happiness ; i hope she’ll be a beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you. no,  i didn’t mean that, sorry. i can’t see facts through all of my fury.  coney island ; and do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? will you forgive my soul when you’re too wise to trust me and too old to care?  you all over me ;  had you, got burned. held out and held on god knows, too long. and wasted time, lost tears. swore that i’d get out of here. but no amount of freedom gets you clean.  forever and always ;  this thing is breaking down ; we almost never speak.  sad beautiful tragic ;  distance, timing, breakdown, fighting, silence, the train runs off its tracks. kiss me, try to fix it, could you just try to listen?  better man ;  and it was always on your terms ; i waited on every careless word, hoping they might turn sweet again like it was in the beginning.  i bet you think about me ;  and the girl in your bed has a fine pedigree and i bet your friends tell you she’s better than me. death by a thousand cuts ;  you said it was a great love,  one for the ages. but if the story’s over, why am i still writing pages?  maroon ; that’s a real fuckin’ legacy, to leave.  question . . . ? ;  do you wish you’d put up more of a fight when she said it was too much?  do you wish you could still touch her?  bejeweled ;  sapphire tears on my face ; sadness became my whole sky.  

[vcw-rp]

𝔻𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 ℝ𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤

🅟🅔🅞🅟🅛🅔 🅦🅘🅛🅛 🅣🅡🅨 🅣🅞 🅑🅤🅡🅨 🅨🅞🅤...

🅣🅔🅢🅢🅐 🅑🅛🅐🅝🅒🅗🅐🅡🅓: “These last few months, the Elites of the World have faced some setbacks, we’ve had things put up in our path meant to keep us from success, but as you can see, some of us have made it… VCW, Miranda Alize and Thunder Rosa are now your Wonder and Future Champions, respectively! And I’m not a member of MCW’s roster, but I see the BaeBlade and the Snow Queen, are now the Highspeed Princess and Universal Queen Champions!“ The ShElites would applaud and celebrate themselves for a moment as Karmen and Miranda raised their titles before Tessa continued, her tone of voice slowly shifting from excited to focused…

 “You see this… This is what the Elite Collective of Wrestling is all about… Hard work pays off, nothing holds us back unless we allow it to, WE’RE THE BEST�� And that’s why I’m not worried in the slightest about losing the Queen of the Vixens Tournament… Look at what’s ahead of us… THE VIXEN’S CHAMBER… And that’s not just a big first in this promotion’s history, it’s a big opportunity for any one of us, and I intend to make the most of this opportunity… Now, we don’t know who’s getting a shot and who’s not getting one, yet, but if I’m not at least in the conversation after my performance in the Queen of the Vixens Tournament, or even after the win I get tonight here on Legendary, I’ll be shocked… But for now? I can’t focus on that… Not when this is a match that I intend to use as a rebound from my previous loss… And not when it’s potentially, a good day to be DRIVING THROUGH ROADBLOCKS…” Tessa would crush her knuckles together before continuing…

“Carmella and Sonya Deville… That’s all the two of you ever seem to be; ROADBLOCKS. You never seem to really find yourselves doing anything meaningful or anything that’ll elevate you to the next level… I mean, Carmella, let’s be real, YOU’RE A LOSER… You would be right at home at a beauty pageant gossiping and talking about how pretty you are, and then being absolutely clueless in regards to anything else. The title will just look good on you, but the title won’t look good WITH YOU…”

“This isn’t me ignoring your skills, when you want to be, you can moonwalk and talk trash, just as advertised… BUT I’M NOT ONE OF YOUR USUALS, SWEETHEART… I’m the Diamond of Professional Wrestling and I’ll look just right standing over your body with my hand raised…”

🅐🅝🅓 🅦🅗🅔🅝 🅣🅗🅔🅨 🅢🅤🅒🅒🅔🅔🅓, 🅘🅣'🅢 🅤🅟 🅣🅞 🅨🅞🅤 🅣🅞 🅓🅘🅖 🅨🅞🅤🅡🅢🅔🅛🅕 🅞🅤🅣...

Tessa would pause for a moment, bumping fists with her stablemates as she continues… 🅣🅔🅢🅢🅐 🅑🅛🅐🅝🅒🅗🅐🅡🅓: “And let’s not forget about Sonya the same way she’s forgotten that she once used to be an MMA fighter, a force to be reckoned with, the enforcer to two women who now make more money in one week than she does in a year! You’re a joke in 2024, Sonya… I can’t even remember the last time you were someone to be feared or someone to even acknowledge as a contender, you’ve REALLY let yourself go… And now you’re here in VCW… Is this even your first time? I genuinely can’t remember… But it doesn’t matter, because I’m gonna show you what a REAL ‘Hellevator’ is when I lower everyone’s expectations of you going forward by beating you down and maybe stacking Staten Island’s most annoying local party girl on top of you for good measure.” Miranda would laugh, spitting out her drink at these comments as Tessa gazed into the camera, continuing her statement…

 “The ShElites aren’t done dominating VCW, not by a long shot, and we don’t always have to end up in an immediate title opportunity to do that… Carmella’s the daughter of a jobber who barely left a legacy or even bothered to help her make one that isn’t plagued with the memories of short, embarrassing and goofy title runs and Sonya’s just not as fired up as she wants us to believe she is! But then you have me… THE DIAMOND OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING… I shine under the brightest of lights and I don’t crack in the face of pressure, but I THRIVE under it. Sonya and Carmella have shown that they crack when there’s just too much pressure on them. They’re not UNDENIABLE like I am. They’re not CHAMPIONS like I am. And they sure as hell aren’t WINNERS like I’m gonna by the time Legendary comes off the air tonight. They could never lace my boots, they could never hold a candle to me, and if they tried, I’ll take that one little flame and I’ll burn them with it because I’m just THAT DAMN GOOD!”

Tessa would slap her hands together abruptly walk past the camera as the rest of her shocked, yet hyped up ShElites followed behind, ending the video with Tessa stating that she intends to defeat Carmella and Sonya Deville, perhaps earning her place in the Vixen’s Chamber conversation this week on Legendary…

[stervrucht]

Proximity - Part 2

● Previous ● Next ● AO3

Eddie has no idea why it bothers him that Steve is out with some girl, nor why he’s painting his nails with Robin.

He doesn’t paint them often. It’s more effort than it’s worth and Eddie can’t keep his hands still for long enough to allow the varnish to dry. 

Still, he accepts when Robin asks him to hang out. 

Her room is simple and small, yet it radiates personality.

It radiates Robin. 

Surfaces are littered with trinkets — a cliché souvenir from Indianapolis, a picture of little Robin with a cat, some colorful pebbles she probably collected. She has a French horn sitting neatly in a case, and a stand with sheet music.  Her walls are covered in posters — female artists like Blondie and The Runaways. 

He doesn’t question the way her eyes linger on him when she tells him about Steve’s untrackable love life. 

When he asks Robin about her love life, she promptly blushes and looks away. 

“I’m working on it,” she says, uncharacteristically shy. 

Eddie eyes the posters and feels something click in his mind.

When he gets home he looks at his nails. The varnish is dented where he bumped it into things before fully drying and his thumb is already chipped from where he bites it sometimes.

A few days later, when he sees Steve at Family Video, the black on his nails resembles a collection of small black islands in a sea of pink.

Call it a nervous tick.

“Have you ever kissed a girl?” Eddie asks Robin.

For a moment, a mild shock paints her face, but then it’s gone. Like the first snow in November, when the ground is still warm from summer.

Robin is a stellar actress. 

“Have you?” she asks, and Eddie should have seen that coming. 

He opens his mouth to answer but before he can make a sound Robin cuts him off.

“Middle school doesn’t count when you’re over twenty.”

“Well, shit, you’re onto me, Buckley.” Eddie chuckles.

Eddie knows. Or at least he thinks he does.

Girls who like Joan Jett like girls. 

Eddie has seen it before. At the parties, he attends when he’s selling.

The more niche — the more underground — the better the buyers. 

Inexperienced high schoolers hardly fill his wallet. 

So he goes to the parties filled with leather and smoke and music that thumps in tandem with his heart, and there he sells. There are no rules at those kinds of parties, only intoxication, flesh, sweat, and lust.

He doesn’t partake himself. The women who try to wind him up — to get his shit for free — he turns them down.

He has to. 

He’s got a supplier to pay and this is his job.

Men don’t require free shit. They will flirt for a quick fuck.

He turns them down too, but a part of him feels flattered

“Have you ever kissed a guy?” Robin pulls him back from his thoughts.

They look at each other and Eddie realizes Robin knows too. Of course, she does. She knew before he realized it himself.

Because he has never kissed a guy.

But he wants to.

It's Friday and movie night is cancelled because Steve is on a date with Jennifer.

She’s all wrong for Steve. Too bland. Eddie knows it won’t last but he still feels bitter. 

Eddie takes Robin to one of his dark clubs. The kinds where anything goes and the people don’t care. They go, not to deal this night, but to get Robin out there.

The girl is a disaster and Eddie knows she just needs a little experience, a little boost, and she will do fine with Vickie.

Vickie, a redhead. 

Robin told him, and Eddie can vaguely recall her from the party at Robin’s house. Eddie supposes she’s a nice girl and he hopes — really hopes for Robin — that Vickie likes her as much as she likes her.

They go to a thrift store and buy something black just to tear it to shreds — to make it better — and Robin looks fantastic. Messy hair, dark make-up. A real Joan Jett. If Eddie was a girl, we would go wild for her. 

They paint their nails too and this time Eddie’s look better because Robin did them for him.

When Eddie looks in the mirror he thinks he looks pretty fucking good with his low-buttoned black shirt that shows off his tats. 

The club is dark and the atmosphere heavy. Eddie hasn’t really been there to party himself, only to sell, and it’s strange to be on the other side of it.

Bodies move like snakes, coiling around each other. He guides Robin to the bar and sticks up two fingers to the barman while mouthing for gin. He hands one of the tiny glasses to Robin and she frowns at it.

“For courage,” Eddie says in her ear, his voice hardly sounding above the insistent bass. He lifts up the glass and Robin reciprocates his toast. Then, after Eddie tips his own shot back, she follows suit.

She scrunches her nose and Eddie wonders if this was her first. Probably. He won’t ask her. 

Clubs aren’t made for talking.

Eddie grabs her hands and leads her through the crowd. They settle, surrounded by bodies, and Eddie moves his hands to her hips — to guide her. He can see she’s out of her element but soon the gin will loosen her up and Eddie will make her flirt with some girls. Or maybe leave her to swim in the sea of bodies for a while, to see if she floats.

When the gin hits, Robin’s movements become looser. They aren’t particularly enticing, but they’re quirky and cute. Sweat is forming on her brow in the heat of the crowd when a girl with a black pixie cut steals Robin away.

Eddie leans against the wall and watches them dance from a distance — to keep an eye on her. The girl seems nice enough, doesn’t force herself, and Robin seems more confident as she leans forward to say something in her ear. 

“You dealin’ tonight?” 

Eddie looks next to him and sees a man in his late twenties with dark brown hair and green eyes. Eddie recognizes him vaguely and he supposes he may have sold to him before — if the question wasn’t a giveaway yet.

“Not tonight.”

“Too bad,” the man says. He takes his time to look Eddie over before continuing, “You’re looking for a bit of fun?”

They share a joint — Eddie’s personal stash — and then they’re making out, sloppy and wet, and Eddie has never kissed a guy before. He feels stubble on his cheek and smells the geranium of his perfume and sweat.

The guy’s brown hair tickles his cheeks and it’s the same shade as Steve’s.

The man’s hands are strong where they trace above Eddie’s jeans, his fingertips calloused — maybe from playing guitar or something like that.

And that’s not like Steve at all.

Steve is always on his mind.

He is everywhere.

Eddie feels like he’s going crazy in his absence. 

It’s even worse in his presence.

But that is hardly a problem because Steve is busy with Jennifer

Robin and Eddie have a movie night without him that Friday, curled up on the couch of Wayne’s trailer.

They watch the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and Robin sings along with the songs like the band kid she is. 

After their night out, something seems to have shifted in her, even though all she did was talk and dance. She seems more comfortable in her skin and when she speaks of Vickie, there is less of an anxious undertone to it. Eddie is happy for her.

He doesn’t tell her about what happened that night. 

Nor that he realized he may be in love with Steve Harrington.

Jennifer lasted a whole two weeks.

Steve drags Eddie to some dumb party in a last-ditch effort to get her back. 

It’s pathetic really, and it grates on Eddie’s nerves. Eddie doesn’t want to be there, but Robin couldn’t go and Eddie is just that fucking nice.

It’s not like the little get-together they had at Robin’s, which was mostly people from band — an effort to get with Vicky, Eddie realises in hindsight. This party is far out of the realms of Eddie’s comfort zone, especially when he’s not dealing. It’s filled with the type of guys who would make fists at Eddie, call him a freak, the types he loved to provoke in the cafeteria — a mating ground for meatheads and bimbos. 

Steve has had too much to drink. Eddie can see it in the way he staggers while he watches Jennifer get cozy with some lanky loser.

Eddie comes up behind Steve, rests his chin on his shoulders, and slides his arms under Steve’s, taking hold of the beer in his hand.

“I think you’ve had enough, Stevie.”

It’s for his own good.

Eddie knows he is pushing the boundaries of what is socially acceptable and he sees some people shooting them glances. A mix between curiosity and disgust. It’s not like jocks don’t do this all the time. They will slap each other's ass and say ‘nice dick’ and somehow that is acceptable. But when it’s someone like Eddie, it suddenly is too much

Suddenly it’s too real.

Steve turns around in Eddie’s arms and they are standing close.

“Hey, I was drinking that.” Steve frowns and his eyes are unfocused as they shift between Eddie’s before drifting down to his mouth. 

Fuck.

Eddie isn’t sure what Steve is about to do as he leans forward. Maybe he has just lost his balance, but it sure as hell looks a lot like Steve is about to kiss him.

And this party filled with loose-fisted jocks isn’t the time nor place for a sexual awakening of any kind. Kissing a guy is far outside of the realm of plausible deniability.

Eddie pushes Steve back by his shoulders and slings an arm around him, laughing nervously.

“How about we go for a smoke, you and I.” 

Steve furrows his brows.

They sit outside on the lawn. It’s a gathering spot for those that are too far gone. People are vomiting or getting it on, mostly one or the other, but occasionally simultaneously. 

The air is still warm and the sky is just barely settling into a dark blue. The time of dusk that somehow feels darker than night.

Eddie pulls his zippo from his pocket and lights the cigarette between his lips. He inhales deeply, letting the smoke rest in his lungs before slowly letting it escape through his lips.

Next to him, Steve holds his head in his hands and sighs miserably.

“Shit man,” he mutters. 

“Here.” Eddie nudges Steve in his side and the latter raises his head miserably. 

Eddie holds the cigarette out for him and Steve reaches for it with unsteady hands.

“Wait, lemme,” Eddie says as he brings the cigarette up to Steve’s mouth. 

Steve’s lips are warm against his fingers as he takes a shaky drag and Steve coughs a little when he exhales.

“Social smoker?”

“Hm...yeah,” Steve replies. He takes hold of Eddie’s hand and brings it to his lips for another drag. The press of dry lips against his fingers is more insistent than before. 

Eddie stares into the distance as he writes this Steve into his memory. Drunk, the smell of beer and smoke, and water hitting dry grass from sprinklers of the house across the street. Warm air and distant music, and people talking and yelling, yet it’s just the two of them — a world within a world.

Once they finish the cigarette, Eddie stands up and dusts his jeans. He offers a hand to Steve, who takes it gratefully. He is unsteady on his legs and Eddie holds him up by his shoulder.

“Lemme take you home.”

“I can’t stand being in that house,” Steve slurs.

“It will be okay, Stevie.” Eddie guides Steve to his van and counts his lucky stars he had quit drinking after one beer. He sets Steve in the passenger seat and leans over to buckle his seatbelt. 

When Eddie pulls away, Steve grabs his arm and when Eddie looks up, Steve lays his hand on the curve of Eddie’s neck, on top of his hair and it pulls when Steve tugs him closer.

“Thank you,” Steve says. His gaze is unsteady but piercing and Eddie feels himself freeze for a moment.

His mouth suddenly feels too dry and Eddie nervously wets his lips. “Anytime, Stevie.”

He sees Steve’s eyes drift down again, just for a second, and then Eddie pulls away.

When he climbs behind the steering wheel he turns his music off, allowing Steve to sober up in relative peace.

The white noise of tires hitting the road, the engine running, and warm wind gushing through an open window — just a crack — fills the car. 

“I didn’t even like her,” Steve says after a while.

The road is unlit and dark and Eddie has to keep his eyes trained ahead. He isn’t sure if Steve is talking to him anyway, or if it’s just drunken rambling. 

“Is that so.” Eddie tries to keep his voice cool.

“She was boring. We had nothing in common.”

Eddie hums.

“I don’t want to be alone…” Steve trails, almost a whisper, barely louder than the wind — like Eddie wasn’t supposed to hear.

“Believe me, Steve, you will not end up alone. You’re like, a lady’s magnet if I ever saw one.”

Steve scoffs in response and he turns his head towards the window.

When they arrive at Steve’s house, Eddie gets him out of the car and digs through Steve’s pockets in front of the door to get his keys.

By now, the house feels familiar — like a showroom or an image from an IKEA catalog.

Eddie understands Steve hates being here alone. 

Steve’s weight is heavy on his shoulder and he isn’t sure if it’s really because Steve is drunk, or because he has given up on walking altogether in favor of having Eddie do the heavy lifting. 

He guides Steve up the stairs and lays him on his bed. His legs dangle off the edge and Steve lays his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“Hold on one sec,” Eddie says and Steve just groans in response.

Eddie returns with Advil for the morning and a glass of water, and sets it on the bedside table before he sits down on the bed next to Steve.

“Up you go.” Eddie lifts Steve up in a sitting position and by now he’s sure that Steve is just being a drama queen because he doesn’t seem half as drunk as he pretends to be.

He brings the glass to Steve’s mouth and makes him drink even when Steve initially refuses.

Steve will thank him in the morning.

“Lift your arms,” Eddie instructs.

Steve is looking at him with those big brown Bambi eyes. 

And fuck, if that doesn’t make Eddie’s heart do a little summersault.

Steve blinks slowly but obliges and Eddie strips him down to his boxers and lays him down.

When Eddie is about to pull away, Steve grabs his wrist and it’s more steady, more forceful than someone drunk has any right to be.

"C'mere." Steve pulls on his arm and Eddie thinks this is probably a terrible idea. 

And look, Eddie might not stick that close to social conventions — or the law, for that matter — but he is a fucking gentleman and Steve is drunk.

So Eddie resists.

Steve pulls more insistently. 

“Stay.” It’s almost a whisper and it’s so desperate it sends a jolt down Eddie’s spine. 

Steve looks at him, eyes more steady. Perhaps the water had helped.

“Fine, I’ll stay,” he relents. “I’ll be down the hall—”

Steve pulls again. “No, here.” 

And Eddie feels himself lose his balance, or maybe it is just his urge to resist. He falls on Steve’s chest and who wraps his arms around him.

Steve holds him and even with Eddie halfway off the bed, it is nice. 

But it’s not sensible.

“At least let me change, Steve. Have you ever slept in jeans before? It’s not fun.” Sensible, Eddie reiterates to himself.

Steve whines when Eddie pries himself away. 

Steve is a needy drunk. 

And a little whiny. 

And a lot affectionate.

Eddie undresses quickly and moves Steve so he’s actually using the bed in its intended orientation. 

He slips in at Steve’s side, muscles tense as he tries to keep his breathing steady.

Is it possible to die of your heart beating too fast? Eddie is sure he read something about it somewhere and if so, this should be the moment he becomes a religious man.

Steve puts an arm over Eddie’s chest and burrows his face in Eddie’s neck, letting out a content sigh.

As Steve’s breathing slowly evens out, Eddie stares up at the black void of the ceiling.

He realizes Steve has won. There is no way Eddie can beat him at this game of proximity.

Steve, the new king of Personal Space Invasion.

Eddie realizes he may have stopped playing somewhere along the way.

There are no more girls. 

It makes Eddie happier than it should. Happier than he should allow himself to feel because it can only result in heartbreak.

Yet he can’t help himself. 

He takes all Steve will give him. Opens his heart to a world of hurt, just for a sip of the lake that is Steve. 

Eddie stays over at Steve’s place often.

Routine carves itself into their life like a glacier, slow and heavy, working its way through layers of stone.

There are no more girls and Eddie can almost pretend that what they share is something more — as long as it remains unnamed.

Steve doesn’t ask Eddie to join him in his bed anymore — he doesn’t have to.  It has become a silent agreement among them and surely there are places where platonic bed-sharing is the norm. Probably somewhere in Europe. 

Harrington is an Irish name, right?

Eddie always wakes up before Steve does. It’s not hard to do, because Steve likes to sleep in. He sleeps through alarm clocks like the sound is ambient and Eddie wonders how he ever gets to work on time. 

Some of those mornings, they wake up pressed together — Eddie’s back against Steve like they’re lovers.

Those flitting moments between sleep and wakefulness are the best because Eddie can pretend.

“My parents will be home this week,” Steve says that morning. He leans against the counter next to where Eddie is pouring them coffee. 

It is early and Steve will head to work soon. Shy sunlight peeks through the trees behind Steve’s house, into the kitchen where it draws lines on Steve’s thighs. Outside the birds sing like their lives depend on it, but in Eddie’s heart, it's quiet. The mornings smell like coffee and deodorant and freshly brushed teeth. 

His shoulders stiffen and his grip on the coffee pot tightens. He knew it would come to this eventually. He prepared himself for it, but it still stings.

“You must be happy,” Eddie says instead, eyes trained on the cups in front of him. They are full, but Steve can’t see that. Eddie can pretend a moment longer, to gather himself before he faces Steve.

“Not really…I mean, it makes no difference to me. They work late, or they have dinners with friends. It hardly changed anything except now I have to take them into consideration.”

“And that means they probably don’t dig me hanging around, right?” 

Sleeping over, several nights a week, in bed with their perfect son.

“Probably not.” 

Steve lets the words hang there and Eddie feels like he should take them, chew them up and spit them out into something better.

“Wayne works night shifts.”

The words are out before Eddie can stop himself. He hands Steve his coffee, just to have something to do as he sees Steve think. Anxiety wraps itself around him like a snake, squeezing his heart until Steve breaks him free.

Eddie imagines the snake from the woods, coiled up with a footprint.

Steve smiles, so carefree, so utterly unaware of the things it does to Eddie's heart and reaches over to smooth a curl behind Eddie’s ear. 

And this is new — this intimacy in the undeniable clarity of daylight. 

Eddie feels his pulse race and all he can do is gape at the back of Steve’s head, who is already walking over to the table with his coffee in hand. 

“I’ll grab our toothbrushes before I head out,” Steve says while he pulls out a chair.

---

'Proximity' Part 2 ● Previous ● Next ● AO3

If you liked this, please consider dropping by on AO3 as well! ♡

[vickyshinoa12]

Loss and Gain [Ace x OC x Sabo!] Prt 2 Dressrosa

Authors note: So since I haven’t caught up in One Piece in a while (I’m in Dressrosa rn lord it’s long >_>) some stuff won’t make sense and all that, I apologize for it and if I see that it doesn’t make since I’ll work it out later on! Anyway enjoy!

Two years passed since Ace died at Marineford. I quit being a pirate all together as well. Marco accepted my decision and told me to be whatever I wanted to be. That I didn’t know who to be. Without Ace being beside me, telling me where to go, how to do things… I can’t make the call. Eventually I ended up just going along whatever the sea felt like was best for me. The One Piece is out there… but I’m sure Luffy was going to find it, and I want him to find it anyway. The thought of Luffy loosing his brother also weighed on my mind as I am in another part of the world away from my own family, my sibling. I can only pray again that Luffy will be okay and to guide me to whatever I need to do. I was lost. Had no goal. The only goal was erased now so… what now?

After a month of useless searching. I landed on an island that was a bit away from Punk Hazard, that’s when I met Law. He was a pirate but recognized my character. How it was broken down and no motivation. He told me we can team up and that a bigger threat is on the loose. I didn’t care at first until he said that lots of innocent people were going to get hurt or dead. Most importantly it had to do with the Marines and the World Government as a whole. Something sparked that day and it took me a while to find Law again, but I agreed to be an ally with him to take care of the threat.

Punk hazard was a mess. It was cold as hell on one end and hot on the other. Law told me the Admirals fought one another and created this island, part I’ve part lava. Just the thought of that scared me. If they can create an island based off that, they could easily destroy the world if they wanted to. Soon Law and I reached a large building and he was explaining to me what to do and who was the target. Then I heard a familiar voice. It was Luffy and his crew my eyes bottled up with tears and I automatically apologized to him for not saving his brother. Luffy said that it wasn’t my fault and that Ace would have wanted us to become stronger and push to our goals. I didn’t tell him that I haven’t had a set point on what my goal was. I was just following Law’s role for the moment.

Days went by and Punk Hazard’s villain, Caeser, was kidnapping children to test some sort of experiment on them. It was awful. “Why would someone do this? To kids?” I asked and Law responded, “People are born to treat others like trash, no one knows the reason.” After that we teamed up with Luffy again, not after their characters had to be fixed, to rescue the children and stop Ceaser. Soon when we did it Law and I went to a room where Ceaser has a bunch of fruits. Law told me that he was making fake Devil fruits and then we got ambushed and he told me to run. I didn’t want to leave him alone so we fought together and eventually Ceaser stood down.

After that battle, we joined with Luffy and the straw hats to go to the next destination that Law told us. Dressrosa. He told us that Ceaser was a pawn to the bigger picture and that the real enemy was Doflamingo. We all agreed to help, but the only problem is when we got there… Law was gone. I went with Luffy and Zoro to search for him… but thanks to the over crowded area I got lost. I started to freak out as I didn’t want to somehow end up with the bad guy.

I walked around a few more blocks before stopping at a shop that sold clothes and food. I looked around and noticed how exposed the women clothes were and decided not to buy it. Soon I grabbed something and went on my way. After a while I started to give up the search and went to a random bunch of tables and sat at one. “Damn… if Ace was here… I would have been out of this situation and would have found Law…” I mumbled and took a bite of my food. There was more people walking about and talking about the colosseum and the fight that was that day. I wanted to see myself and thought that maybe Luffy was there. Okay… that’s a good start! I finished my food and went to get up as I then ran into someone with a huge thud.

My glasses flew across and as I went to look up all I saw was a black and blue blob. “Sorry! I didn’t see you there!” It was a man. “No worries. I’m just in a hurry to find someone.” I went to the ground and started to search. Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder and then a gloved hand with my glasses were in front of me, “These yours?”

“Yeah! Thank you!” I bowed my head and grabbed them from him and put them on. I sighed as my vision came back and stood to thank him again. The man had blond hair, black eyes, and a top hat with googles. His attire was fancy like and he wore a black coat. “Thank you again. Sorry I ran into you.” I put my hand up with a sheepish smile. “Don’t worry about it. You said you were looking for someone, want me to help?”

“Huh? No, you already found my glasses. I don’t want you to do anymore for a stranger like me.” I said and he smiled largely, “Maybe we won’t be strangers.” I was confused by his words as he then took out his hand to shake, “My name is Sabo, I’m here looking for someone as well!” My hand was hesitant as I went to shake, “Victoria…”

“Great! Now we can help one another. I have to find someone very important. Once we get that done, I’ll help you find your person.”

“Thanks… but I already told you-“

“Let’s get started shall we? I’m in a bit of a hurry myself as my friend wants me to get this done ASAP!” Sabo turned on his heel and started to walk off and I was trying desperately to explain why he shouldn’t help. It reminded me of someone. But I couldn’t put a finger on it.

Later we ended up in the colosseum. I looked around and was confused. “Your person is fighting in the colosseum?” I asked and he hummed, “He’s very important like I said. Once we find him, I’ll have to explain a lot of stuff, but I’m sure he’ll understand.” Seems like a close friend. “So since is where I needed to go as well, maybe we can split up?”

“No no! That’s too risky, plus you’ll only get lost again.” Sabo said and I was about to protest when I stopped and turned to him slowly. How’d he know? Sabo turned to face me and I felt a shiver down my spine. What’s up with him? “You were talking about someone by the name of Ace hours ago, weren’t you?” My heartbeat went insane. Was he the enemy? “Don’t need to be scared. I’m an ally. You see, Ace is my brother.” My eyes widened as I slowly pointed up, “You’re… You’re his brother too?”

“Yes I am. We go way back- what do you mean by ‘too’?” He asked as he tilted his head. I blinked, “Someone else said he was Ace’s brother… his name is Luffy.” Sabo’s smile went wide again, “Yep. He’s also my brother!”

“WHAT?!” My jaw dropped as I put my hands on my head, “That’s insane! Another brother?! And you’re just telling me now?! Why didn’t you tell me before?!” I yelled and Sabo laughed, “Cause you bumped into me remember? Then dropped your glasses. So I couldn’t just drop the bomb right then and there about it.” I put my hands down, “I guess you’re right…” He continued to stare at me, that’s when I noticed a burn mark on his left eye. Maybe a childhood burn? “You see… when you also said you’re name. I remembered the small note you put on Ace’s grave. He must have impacted you a lot Huh?” My chest hurt, “Yeah…” The note I left before I quit was a heart felt one. About how I looked up to Ace and how I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, to only be too late. “Hey.” My head went back to look up at Sabo. “It wasn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself for his death.” Tears went to my eyes as I wiped them, “I know, but… I should have pressed harder…”

“At least you were there for him…” Sabo muttered and put his hat over his face, “I… suffered from amnesia after a Celestial shot me down as a kid… after that I worked for the Revolutionary Army for years… until I heard of his death and all the memories came back…” My eyes soften, “So. Don’t blame yourself. I blamed myself for not being there for him all those years. Plus I’m pretty sure he wants all of us to push forward for a better future.”

“Yeah… say Luffy said the same thing when we were on Punk Hazard.” I smiled and Sabo smiled back, “He is our brother alright. We always somehow have the same wavelength, the three of us.” Now I know about Luffy’s second brother, more compassion drizzled to them. “Say… Luffy was the person I was actually looking for-“

“No way! Me too! Say, let’s find him together, but don’t tell him that I’m his brother! Let it be a surprise!”

“Why? Did he forget you or something?”

“You’ll see. Let’s go to the dressing room.” Sabo said and led the way. Soon we met up with Luffy who dressed up in a beard and was called Luci. Sabo introduced himself to get the Flame-Flame fruit and soon confessed to being Luffy’s brother. Luffy explained that Sabo died that day when he was shot down. Sabo and Luffy had a reunion with a giant hug. All I can do was laugh a bit as Luffy was now not alone without a brother, he had Sabo. Come to think of it… maybe Sabo is a little like Ace. But I might be reading through the lines…

[rubykarelia]

GUILTY PLEASURES: An Open Letter to the Reality Television Fan (blog post + interview, 2021)

CW: misogyny; domestic violence; sexual violence

Dear Reality Television Viewer,

Let me know if this has happened to you. You’re watching your program of choice—whether it be Little Women or Love Island—and someone peeks over your shoulder. They ask you, often with a brutal, albeit needless, sense of exasperation, “How can you watch this stuff?”

“I don’t really like it, it’s just a guilty pleasure,” you reply. Your cadence probably matches the redhanded insistence of someone just caught scrolling through an ex's Instagram or smoking a cigarette under the porch after their parents went to bed. You lied, too—you do really like it. Maybe you’ve scavenged through dozens of virus-ridden internet alcoves for the right episode, and you memorized the explosive fight between Luann and Bethenny from a few seasons back, and you recite it in the car as if it's one of your favourite songs.

Pretending that an activity I genuinely cherish is only a ‘guilty pleasure’ is something I often find myself doing in social spaces. It’s become an automatic response, a preemptive apology as if I’ve been caught in the act of something truly guilt-worthy. You may relate.

It’s a tragic reality, especially in the case of our mutual hobby: art forms geared towards women are disproportionately susceptible to social criticism. The New York Times’s Emily Nussbaum details this ‘guilty pleasure phenomenon’; genres that underscore women’s stories, such as the reality show or the soap opera, are frequently dismissed by both critics and casual viewers as mere fluff. This speaks to a cultural standard that greatly informs how we view art “that makes women’s lives look like fun.” Our television guides and streaming selections are overflowing with programs that do just the opposite; in fact, depictions of violence against women are only growing more plentiful onscreen. The Parents Television Council reports that scenes depicting violence against women on TV increased by 120% between 2004 and 2009. As Hollywood is dominated by male executives, these stories are being “written, directed and produced by men, for a male audience,” as Battered Women's Support Services' Jessica West argues. Reality television often subverts this practice; programs such as The Real Housewives franchise feature predominantly female casts, exploring the dynamics between women as they navigate friendships, careers, and social conflict. Medium contributor mad dyke asserts that such shows, “like most things that are for women by women,” are deemed “vapid, stupid, shallow, value-less, etc.” But how can they be all of these things at once, when so many fans, like us, regard consuming these shows as hobbies? Are we in the wrong for not seeking out the spectacle of something, well, less fun?

For some more insight, I spoke with podcaster Stephanie Lee, the host of Real Housewives of Neopia. On each episode, Stephanie breaks down an episode of reality television, dextrously dissecting its characters and storylines. We all have our own reasons as to why we’ve made reality TV a constant in our streaming routine, so I asked Stephanie to divulge her own. “I love how it holds up a mirror to human behaviour in every way,” she told me. The foundation of reality television is social tension, which makes it an apt genre for people-watching. Per mad dyke, “it’s about the minutiae of relationships,” the spotlight shed on ordinary conflicts with which many of us can resonate. Bethenny gets the same haircut as Luann. Stassi disinvites Jax from the Vegas trip. Miss Juicy tells Minnie to leave her party. We watch because we want to see how they will or won’t react, how characters evolve or dissolve on screen, how relationships form and quickly crumble. We watch to study the nuances of human relationships and social dynamics in a way completely unique to its genre. Unlike fictional shows, the characters extend beyond the onscreen diegesis—these are real people, real families, real stories. 

Real stories—well, sort of. It wouldn’t be a discussion about reality TV without regarding the elephant in the room: production interference. “You do know it’s all fake, right?” onlookers tell us as an ired Teresa Giudice flips a table. Naysayers love to recite this line with a saccharine condescension as if we’re not aware that all television is at least somewhat contrived. We know that the Real Housewives aren’t as real as their title attests. Yes, we know that producers whisper in the ears of cast members to incite drama. And, yes, we know that editors often manipulate conflicts or characters to fulfil a certain narrative trope.

Significantly, in brandishing this argument of inauthenticity, one may overlook the potential for a more complex viewing experience. Stephanie asserts that “even contrived and overly produced reality TV showcases something about human nature.” We, as fans, are aware that behind-the-scenes interference is inevitable, and watching with a knowing-eye can enable us to scrutinize how our culture defines entertainment, or what is worthy of being broadcast. Stephanie aptly says that production or network interferences “can be deeply revealing about the perceptions that shape their world and interactions within it.” 

Reality TV is more complex than people think. It’s not just manufactured drama; as Stephanie says, there is a “fully realized lore” to reality television despite its purported shallowness. “I love investigating and juxtaposing the behind-the-scenes stuff with the final project,” she says, emulating Jason Mittell’s understanding of the modern television viewer. Mittell’s work in Complex TV distinguishes how contemporary television demands a more complex viewing experience; now, viewers must practice more active engagement and outsource backstories to better their understanding of intricate onscreen narratives. Even lowbrow genres such as the sitcom have adopted entangled plotlines, literary motifs, and reflexive techniques as production standards. In fact, Stephanie compares her personal favourite reality show, Vanderpump Rules, to The Sopranos, a program that serves as an exemplar of prestige television in Complex TV. “It has all the expertly executed twists of prestige television like The Sopranos. […] Many of the characters present as morally bankrupt beyond reasonable understanding. With both, the characters and the wicked webs they weave are so mesmerizing.” 

So, do we need to feel guilty for consuming reality television? “I feel no guilt as long as I’m consuming responsibly,” Stephanie thinks. To view responsibly, we must harness a critical eye. “Reality TV often showcases exploitation, reduces marginalized participants into negative tropes, and can platform unsavoury ideals.” There are, indeed, patterns of mistreatment, social contention, and unfair typecasting among participants that must be acknowledged and denounced. By “actively questioning and criticizing all those factors,” we can still enjoy reality television, just as we engage with other media with similar production pitfalls. “I’m confident in my interests and feel reality TV can serve a more intellectual purpose if the viewer wants,” Stephanie concludes. 

The generic standards of reality television are a symptom of patriarchal custom that depreciates women’s enjoyment as shallow and vapid. But we can watch Bravo with the same interpretive approach that many bring to HBO. We can study the social dynamics of reality TV in active, intellectual ways. Or, we can simply watch what makes us happy. I’m making an effort to disassociate the word ‘guilty’ from my pleasures, and I hope you do, too. The truth is, my pleasure shouldn’t be on trial, and neither should yours.

(Thank you to Stephanie from Real Housewives of Neopia! Check her podcast out here!)

[aylinaliens]

Hi Kay! What are the EAW WIPs you currently have!! Hahahaha gosh, the brainrot is so bad for me too, that I currently keep having ideas pop into my head at random times LOL

hi 💙💙 okay so i have an unhealthy amount of EAW WIPs i seriously have a problem help. all of these will most likely be one shots (or very short multichap fics). in no particular order here they are:

kwon minwoo and the horrible, terrible, very bad, no good day: i think we all need a fic where minwoo gets 👊 a few times. i can’t believe he didn’t react more to finding out junho is dating youngwoo he’s literally so obsessed so i’m writing a little fix-it fic where he gets the karma that’s coming for him.

loving you is like the ocean (it goes for miles in all directions): youngwoo is sad that she can’t go on her yearly whale watching trip because she’s pregnant so junho + the rest of her protection squad decide to bring the ocean to her instead (aka they quite literally turn the nursery into an underwater oasis). quite literally just pure married whale couple fluff with a heavy dash of the found family trope

i had the time of my life (fighting dragons with you): geurami + youngwoo centric fic because their friendships gives me so much joy. the simplest summary would be ‘the three times guerami smacked a bitch for youngwoo & the one time youngwoo smacked a bitch for geurami’

untitled: junho meets youngwoo’s dad. yes it’s awkward and hilarious and oddly wholesome bc i’m saying no to toxicity

touch me like you do: youngwoo and junho show each other *exactly* how they like to be touched 😳

everything will be alright (if you keep me next to you): suyeon + youngwoo centric fic set during law school. i know we probably won’t get a flashback of it so i wanted to explore their dynamic in the early days

untitled: i’m combining two different prompts from the same person (youngwoo jealous & junho getting in to an accident) because. cannot do pure angst for these two nope no thank you

why break up?: our whale couple is going to say peace out to that kdrama curse on their jeju island trip and actually communicate 🥰 miss geurami said ‘besties just use your words it’s that simply’

untitled: post ‘conflict’ fic where our lovable dorks express how they feel and maybe kiss a little 🥺 (this one will hopefully go up sometime today)

untitled: youngwoo catches guerami watching a very spicy drama and makes the execute decision to try it out for herself

untitled: no thoughts head empty just a bunch of short little drabbles of all the different kisses youngwoo and junho share

hold me close: aka junho has a bad day so youngwoo offers to be his personal hug chair

we’re dancing around the kitchen in the refrigerator light: youngwoo + junho decide to skip out on the traditional first dance during their reception (too loud and busy !!!) so instead they waltz together in the middle of the night…yes in the refrigerator light <3

untitled: youngwoo + junho beach wedding!! except it’s really just a small gathering & very non stressful & relaxed. + their proposal too because 🥺 they <3

untitled: youngwoo + junho honeymoon shenanigans listen i have multiple fics planned in the ‘whale couple wedding cinematic universe’

untitled: junho finds out youngwoo fell down the stairs…worried junho has me weak (@akuyuukai i told you i was going to do this 👀)

untitled: youngwoo quits hanbada and works to work with ryu jae-sook. not at all angsty because she makes the decision on her own. i just need more women supporting women and youngwoo flourishing professionally

listen i was not kidding when i said the eaw brain rot was real. this drama has me by the throat ajdjsjd and these are technically not even *all* of my WIPs. these are just the ones that i’m actively writing right now. yeah perhaps i do have a problem 😬

[hopeshoodie]

Can you do a Pros and Cons for Levi?

Part 8 of Pros and Cons of dating the different islanders (use the tag to see the others lol)

Levi

Cons

He takes things very personally. It’s not that he reads too much into things like tone or intention, but that if someone is being dismissive or irritated with him his feelings are very hurt. If you’re angry and make a comment that crosses a line or tease him too much, he gets very sulky very quickly.

He doesn’t know how to take constructive criticism, and has a tendency to either a) blow it off completely if it’s from someone he doesn’t respect or b) if it’s from someone he cares about he does that guilt-trippy thing of saying “OH I guess I’m just the worst person ever then!” He is not at all receptive to you pointing out that’s what he’s doing in the moment either.

I don’t think he’s at all in tuned with his partners needs or willing to take on the mental load of managing a household/finances. He’s the type to purposefully do a task you asked him to do wrong so that you won’t ask him to do it again. Or if you complain that he’s not sharing the housework he’ll be like “tell me what to do and I’ll do it” but won’t realize that half the task is keeping track of what needs to be done and getting all the things together in order to complete it. It’s not that he’s maliciously thinking housework is a woman’s job or intentionally putting it all on his partner, more just that he doesn’t think about it to begin with. If he’s in a really bad mood he’ll be like “why is it my problem?”

He’s moody. SO moody. If something upsets him in the morning, the rest of the day he’ll be sulky or irritable. Normally he ‘copes’ with it by just giving the people around him the silent treatment as he plays on his phone all day or doing a lot of loud sighing/scoffing/eyerolling. Levi is not amenable to be roused out of his moods, either, and prefers to just stew in it. The only real way to divert him is to leave him alone for long enough where he gets bored of it himself or to bring him along to an activity that totally distracts him from performing his irritation. 

He likes gorgeous women, and I think that’s part of why he likes MC. He’s not going to be chill if she stops wearing makeup or cuts her hair or puts on a lot of weight. He won’t taunt her about it or break up with her, but he will start losing interest and looking other places. 

He’s not one to break up with someone unless he’s got a relationship he’s more interested in lined up, and he’s not going to communicate without a lot of prompting to try and improve the relationship. So if he does start losing interest, he’s not going to say anything. Think Christian from Midsommar- he’ll hold you but still be staring into space wishing he didn’t feel like he had to. 

Pros

Even though he’s really good at what he does (competitive swimming at an olympic level) I get a down-home vibe with him. I think he really enjoys the simple things like sitting around a firepit with family, having a beer on the deck, and taking a walk with his partner. He takes a lot of pleasure in the good things, so you’ll have a super chill weekend at home and he’ll be like “our weekend was amazing”. 

You know that quote ‘I love the way men love’ where it talks about how men will quietly dedicate themselves to gestures of affection but not openly express it? That’s Levi. You’ll start to wonder if everything’s okay because he’s gotten quiet recently, but then notice that he upgraded his spotify account so that you can listen without being interrupted or that he’s trying to get used to a certain kind of food you love that he previously hated. 

Levi’s a really charming guy, especially to older people and children. He has this ability to just warm up a room when he’s in it. If he’s comfortable in his relationship and feeling good, everyone else feels it too. His laugh is really contagious, he validates the people around him, he’s willing to jump in and tell entertaining stories, and he’s the type that people gravitate towards. He’s just cool. He seems like the perfect guy in small doses, so I totally see him charming your family and friends (and honestly making them envious of you). 

He has really high expectations for himself, which contributes to the moodiness, but also pushes him to be really ambitious and constantly improving. If something doesn’t work, he’s going to keep trying to fix it or find products so that it’ll run smoothly. The ‘pro’ of that is he’s going to move hell and high water supporting you to get what you want. He’s going to grind to give you financial security, he’s going to practice with you and look for jobs if you want career advancement, he’s going to go to the gym with you if you’re on a muscle building kick. He genuinely is the biggest cheerleader, both for himself and you. 

 As much as I think he does have toxic masculinity to break down, I think he also takes pride in being a #SupportiveBoyfriend. Like he secretly relishes if you send him out for tampons/pads, or if he has to hold your bag while you shop. The performative feminist things that make him Feel like he’s doing something. When you eventually have kids, he’s going to be the proudest Girl Dad and relish doing her hair and taking her on outings (but not the labor intensive things of being a parent like entertaining them all day or dealing with tantrums/behaviors). But like the things that are ‘socially acceptable’ or will get him praise he’s really good at and takes genuine pride in doing. If you post photos of him doing any of these things it’ll go viral because people love hot guys being performatively good. 

[eclectickss]

Make Me Feel Special (1/2)

Pairing: Milf!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Warnings: Mommy issues/kink, sexual implications, major age gap (reader is of age)

Summary: You are angry at your best friend for turning down the opportunity for something that you would give your life for: a mother.

Word Count: 3K?

Link to Part 2

A/N: Not grammar checked at all! A blurb gone big!(still at writers block on PGATW) But requests are open! I’ve never done one before but i’m willing to try. <3

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You entered the apartment and placed your keys in the dish and jacket on it’s hook, making your way into the kitchen to place your to-go food in the fridge. Jane sat at the island on the computer you shared, and you smiled.

“Hey, I picked up sandwiches for dinner. Hope that’s cool.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Your best friend didn’t look up, but it didn’t really bother you. Well, she was your only friend, but still.

You and Jane had been sharing the apartment for years now, The two of you working a good job to afford it and making a livable income. You had been close since high-school, due to your similar social status, but beyond the two of you, nobody was too good at making friends.

From what she had told you, Jane’s mom wasn’t around much when she was growing up. Jane was a teen pregnancy, and ever since she was born, her mom made no time for her daughter. Agatha, was her name.

Agatha came from a wealthy family, though. Her parents (Jane’s grandparents) wouldn’t allow her to use the family money for her child, much less anything else. She struggled with Jane, and therefore the two of them were ever close.

Agatha’s parents died when Jane was in high-school, so her mom inherited their wealth, but their relationship was past salvageable. At least in Jane’s eyes, it was.

Jane was always telling you about how bad of a mom Agatha was and about how you were lucky that you didn’t have to deal with someone like her. Jane didn’t understand though. You would had given anything to have someone like Agatha. Even if she wasn’t around to much, it was still better than nobody at all.

-

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You were now setting the table for two as you pulled the sandwiches out of the fridge, also finding some strawberries to place at the table. You now were looking through the pantry for chips when you heard a knock at the door and Jane moving around to answer it.

“Mom?!” You heard at the door while you still had your head buried in the pantry. Your eyes widened at the name, never expecting to hear it in your life (in that context, at least). You thought Agatha was out of the picture. “What are you doing here?” You stayed silent as you listened from around the corner.

“Well, I think it’s long overdue that we had a talk, Jane, honey.” She sounded a little more raspy than you were expecting, but that doesn’t say much about someone who used to be an addict.

“We don’t do that, Mom. Anyways, now isn’t a good time.” You heard your friend sigh. The woman was your literal mother... you could at least give her five minutes, you thought.

“I want to start, honey. Please just let me in?”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“C’mon, kiddo.” She begged, and you felt a little bad for how Jane was acting. You know her mom wasn’t a great person, but she was still her mom.

You never got to have one of those.

“If this is just you on another one of your sobriety stunts...”

“I’m really trying this time, Jane! I know I fucked up, baby, but please.”

“Fine.” Your friend grumbled. You heard increasing footsteps and your heart raced as you were about to meet the source of Jane’s complaints and drama.

You hurried to sit at the kitchen counter before the two women caught you snooping, but your gaze snaps up just in time to see Agatha Harkness walk into the room.

Jane might have always mentioned that her mother was any and all variations of a bitch, but she failed to mention how attractive the woman was. Her messy brown hair sat on top of an old purple cardigan and worn out jeans, followed by a pair of well-used slip-on shoes. The look together was not extremely flattering, but Agatha somehow pulled it together in a way that made your stomach turn. Your eyes raked her down, but you think she caught you when you met her gaze again. She smirked softly.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had guests!” She says as her own eyes follow your figure, and you wonder if she’s just doing it to mock you or flatter you. She looks back up with a glimmer in her eye, and you decide on the latter option. Your face goes red, but you try and brush her actions off, not wanting to mistake it for anything else.

“Didn’t I say that this was a bad time?” Jane grumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Harkness. My name is YN.” You smiled as you held out your hand.

“Call me Agatha, darling.” She stared into your eyes. “It’s so nice to finally meet one of Jane’s friends.” You panic under her gaze.

“We were just about to sit down for dinner, if you want to join us. We don’t have any food for you, but-“

“Oh, thank you... I was hoping I could talk to Jane in private, though.” She walked over to the table and took a seat.

“Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it to YN, too.” The two of you joined Agatha at the table.

A long moment of awkward silence passsed between the three of you before your guest finally spoke up.

“I want you in my life, Jane. For real this time.”

Nobody says anything, and dishes stop clattering.

“I know I shoulda done this earlier... hell, I shoulda done this when I got claim to my parent’s money, but I want to look after you. I never got the chance to do that when you were young... cause of all the drinking and working... but I can do that now. I’m ready.”

Jane sat with her mouth open and a half eaten sandwich forgotten on her plate.

“No, Mom, you shoulda done this from the moment I was conceived. You don’t get a second chance with me. I’m not giving you a second chance, or a third or a fourth or whatever number you wanna give yourself. You wanna know why? It’s because I already did that. And you let me down every single time.”

Agatha looked a little speechless.

“Fine, then.” She sighed. “I won’t bother you again.” But it hurt you to watch a daughter turn away her mother, when that was an opportunity that you wanted so badly. “Is it alright if I stay the night, though? It’s a long drive back to my place.”

Jane rolled her eyes, knowing that her mother was being dramatic, but didn’t want to put up with any more of her antics. “I better not see you in the morning. YN can get blankets for the couch.”

-

-

-

“Hey, Jane,” You sighed as you entered her room.

“Hey, YN. I’m sorry you had to deal with the shit show that is my mother. I can’t believe she just walked in here and expected me to accept her pathetic invitation.”

“No, it’s ok. She’s not that bad with me.”

“Well she just met you. I just don’t understand why she thought showing up unannounced would magically make me want a mother again. It’s fucked up.” Jane said, but you couldn’t sit there and watch her tear down something that you wish you had.

“Yeah,” you mumbled and rushed out of her room before she could say anything else.

You walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass, then headed over to the sink for some tap water. The cool liquid rushed down your throat as you held down your tears, thankful that nobody was around.

“Hey, Honey,”

Shit. You forgot that Agatha was on the couch.

You turn around to see her meeting your gaze, although her eyes quickly found the way to the rest of your body.

“You doing alright, babygirl?” The nickname made you heat up. She spoke with concern and care; something that Jane chose to ignore, which made you feel bad for Agatha. You wish that Jane wouldn’t take for granted what her mother was trying to offer her.

“Uh... yeah... I guess.” You sigh, hopping up to sit on the counter as you watch the other woman fill her own glass at the sink. “Jane is just... being a little hard right now.” You chose your words carefully, not wanting to lose the trust of your friend but also wanting to gain the trust of another.

“What do you mean?” You realize the situation you have put yourself in.

“It’s just... I didn’t have a mom at all growing up. Or a dad. I had my shitty uncle... until he tossed me into the foster system. I had it real rough... and it still kinda is... but Jane has been helping. That’s why we’re friends at least. She might view me as a charity project, but i’m desperate, I guess.”

“What does all of this have to do with Jane being hard, hon?” She leaned onto the counter across from you.

“She didn’t really have a mom, either... growing up. No offense.”

Agatha shrugged. “I know.”

“But now that she’s given an opportunity to have one, she turns it down... and it makes me jealous. Mad. Angry.” You pause. “I know I’ll never get the chance at a mom, but she has one. And fuck, I would give so much to have that.”

“To have someone like me? A recovering drunk who treated their teen pregnancy like a joke?”Agatha sighed into her hands, but her words meant so much more to you than she may ever know.

“Yeah. To have someone like you. Someone who cares.” At that, she looked up with a new light in her eyes, but you don’t meet her gaze. You don’t want her to see the blush or desire written on your face, so instead, you pull a cigarette out from your jacket pocket.

She watches you as you hop down from the counter to get the lighter out of the junk drawer, paying attention to the way your body moves. You notice how her eyes follow you, but you don’t call her out on it, knowing you would do the same if the roles were reversed.

“You want a hit?” You lift your eyebrow as you raise the smoke to meet her gaze. A glint of humor is caught on her face, and you smirk.

“Sure... why not.” She says as you join her in leaning up against the counter. You bring the cigarette up to your mouth and click the lighter.

“So,” Agatha starts again, both of you a few puffs in. “How did you end up here with Jane?”

“Uhh... we met senior year of high-school. I was fucked up. Shit grades. Wasn’t going to graduate. Drug money to pay off... no job. Jane used your money to pay off my debt. She found me a job. Tutored me. Like I said, I felt like a charity project. But at least I graduated. We both work now and pay for this place together. Maybe it’s not great but we’re both better off than we were a few years ago.”

“Why didn’t she accept anything I tried to give her? Did she tell you?” Agatha was prying, but you didn’t mind.

“You mean after high-school? She didn’t want any help from you. In her words exactly... ‘She wasn’t there for me for the first 18 years of my life, so why should she help out now...’”

“And what do you think about that?”

“I didn’t grow up poor, Agatha. I grew up with nothing. I would have taken any of your offers in a heartbeat, no matter how guilty they made me feel.”

“Good girl.” She nearly whispers, and you turned to face her, but you couldn’t make anything out of the expression written on her face. Your own skin was hot and something was burning in your core, and you didn’t know what to think.

“I’m sorry... what did you just say?” You watched as she put the cigarette out, now giving you her undivided attention.

“So tell me, honey, do you have a boyfriend? I’m assuming a pretty thing like you would have one. Tell me about him.” Part of you wondered where this conversation was going, but the other part assumed that she already knew which direction you leaned in.

“Uhh... not my type.” You stared at her with curiosity.

“So you got a girlfriend, then?” Her new confidence shocked you a little bit.

“Uhh... no.” You tilted your head, and she seemed to pick up on your confusion.

“Good girl.” Your mouth was dry. “You see, mommy doesn’t want you having a girlfriend... no, she wants you all to herself.”

Your eyes widen in shock, but your core aches and cheeks burn. You stare at the woman next to you as a hand slides onto your thigh.

“Oh come on, darling. You said you wanted a mommy, baby. I wanna take care of you. I see the way you look at me. Don’t deny you want me too.” She spins around and pins you to the counter, and you audibly gulp.

“But- Jane.” You whine, already being driven crazy by the proximity of Agatha’s body.

“Jane is kicking me out, baby girl. And you can come live with me. Mommy has a pretty house, honey. I can feed you, clothe you... make you feel good. I can make you feel special.” And God, your soul was ready to leave your body. You wanted this. You could hardly think as her soft lips grazed over the skin on your neck, and a soft moan escaped your throat. Her tongue and teeth pulled at the skin just below your ear, trying to pull a response out of you.

“Mom!” The both of you jumped at the third voice in the room. The two of you turn to Jane in shock. “What the FUCK are you doing!” She rushed over to the two of you, pulling Agatha off of your body. “You can’t just come into my life and try to fuck my friends after someone rejects you!” She pushes her mom back and turns to you.

“Oh my god, YN, are you ok? I cannot believe that she tried to touch you. God, that makes me sick.” She hugged you, but you still couldn’t say anything.

“Jane, honey, you don’t know-“

“Shut up! I can’t even look at you! Get out of my house, mom. I never want to see you again.” Jane’s face turned red with anger.

“Honey-“ Agatha met eyes with you, but you didn’t know what to do.

“Leave! Now.” She seethed and stomped back to the bedroom, expecting Agatha to be gone when she got back.

The woman in front of you moved silently while you still processed what just happened. When she returned with her belongings, she gave you a note, but headed out without saying a word.

After a few minutes, you finally looked at the piece of paper in hand.

If you ever make up your mind...

1286 Lincoln St NW

(673) 867-5309

-Agatha

-

-

-

“YN, are you sure you’re alright? I really never would have expected my mom to touch you or even make you feel uncomfortable. I’m so sorry.” Jane sighed as she sat on the bed.

“I’m fine, J. You don’t have to apologize on her behalf.” You replied, sitting on the chair opposite her.

“I mean what even happened. Why did she do that?”

“Umm... I don’t know. We were just talking and then she started that.”

“What we’re you talking about?”

“Oh, I was just explaining how we met.” You tentatively answered.

“YN you didn’t have to tell her that. I know it’s personal for you, I can’t believe she forced you to talk about it.

“I uhh- actually didn’t mind. I wasn’t forced.”

“Then why would you trust her with something like that? You know how she is.”

“Because...” You thought about your next words carefully. “She cares.” Jane scoffs.

“That must be a different woman we’re talking about, YN. My mom is a selfish bitch who only cares for herself.”

That tipped the iceberg for you.

“You know, Jane? I understand that you and her might never be besties like she wants you to be, but that doesn’t mean you get to fuck her over now that she’s trying.” Your friend looks up at you in shock.

“Well she fucked me over my entire life, so I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”

“Because! Jane! She’s changed! It’s only right that you give her one more shot in your life!”

She took a pause.

“I’m sorry, YN, are you defending my MOM? After everything she’s done to me, and everything i’ve done for you?!”

“Yes. It is sick watching you throw something away that I can only dream of.” You spat angrily.

“Geez, YN. Just- get out of my fucking house. Keep your rent money for the month. Pack your shit and get the hell out of here.” She nearly ran out of the room.

But you weren’t surprised. In fact, you expected this the moment you chose your side.

-

-

-

The knocks resonate through the large door attached to the even larger house. Agatha has money.

You thought Jane was over exaggerating a little bit, but now you understood that she wasn’t. You sighed as your cab sped away, and now all you could do was wait.

Agatha opened the door, slightly shocked to see you, but nevertheless happy.

“Hey baby, what is it?”

You took a deep breath, taking in the sight of the woman who stood in front of you.

“I want you to make me feel special, mommy.”

-

-

-

link to part 2

[tooweirdforyou]

The OP Boys & Their Personal Dirty Secrets pt. 2

A/N : Hey hun! I hope you like this! ( i can’t tag you idk why ) I saw you wanted a part two to this and decided to do it because it was fun. I guess, lol. anyways hope you like this! :>

Soooo, don’t judge the gif I couldn’t find anything else. Also I’m kinda tired ;-; alsooo. these ones are a LITTLE bit dirtier.

Warning : NSFW AHEAD! PROCEED WITH CAUTION! ⚠️ ESPECIALLY W/ THATCH.

kid and mihawk don’t have specific dark secrets since I couldn’t think of anything that would yk connect to them. ;-;

Summary : All of these boys and their personal, hidden dirty secrets. PART TWO!

-

Doflamingo

Oh boy, this male, despite his possessiveness, has a bit of a voyeurism kink. He hasn’t yet, but he DEFINITELY wants to turn on the country wide announcement, ( like those screens whatever used in Dressrosa when he talked ) and just fuck you as everyone watches throughout the island. He dreams of it, and one day, HE WILL make it a reality.

“How does it feel?” The lick of his lips and the shit-eating grin was on display all over the island for the people of Dressrosa to see, the image of Doflamingo’s hips thrusting and making contact with your rear.

“Does it feel good to have the whole island watching you being fucked senseless, by me? Their king?”

You couldn’t respond, lost in the insane amount of pleasure that ran through your body, specifically your lower regions. You didn’t even care that you were being watched, basking in the euphoria you were given at the moment.

Doffy’s strings suspended you partially in air, the material binding your body so you couldn’t move in the slightest as he took you from behind.

Arms wrapped around your bare figure, one holding you thigh tightly while the other wrapped around your torso, his hand grasping your throat and his fingers, pressing itself onto the flesh of your neck.

If you were fortunate, your face was cut off from the screen to be visible but your exposed body was seen by everyone who watched.

Doflamingo felt glory and power, as he continued to fuck you for all to see, your sweet, melodic moans echoing through the island as he did this.

What a fantasy that will soon become a reality.

-

Kid

Literally anything but also nothing. I couldn’t think of anything.. so here’s a kink he has! Dominant Submission. (?) basically, he LOVES the submissive ones, but those who really fight back. Feisty bitches yk? But like, he knows you’re all talk because he’ll have you begging for him on your knees once the two of you really get started. ;)

You’re teasing the hell out of Kid. You’re being bad by ignoring Kid and disobeying his orders and the Captain has had enough.

He barges into your room, slamming the door shut with the lock clicking on and before you could react, he has his hand around your throat and your back shoved to the wall.

“You think you’re being funny?” He growls into your ear, instantly using his free hand to rip your clothes off in a swift pull.

Despite the lack of air you had, your face still formed a sly and cheeky smirk in response. “I..I think it’s.. hilarious. Ha.”

Kid scowls before slowly smirking himself and tightened his grip on your neck a little bit more, but not enough to actually kill you. ( he cares after all :> )

“Tch. Looks like you need a punishment.” He drags you over to your bed and shoves you roughly done onto him, unbuckling his pants and pulled the belt out from the loops and pressed the two ends together so he had an able whipping belt. ( make sense? )

You merely grin at this and tilt your head. “Oh? Is that for me?” You hum and sat up, legs up and spread for him to see your already getting wet pussy, arms over you knees.

The sight of it made Kid growl lowly before he walks closer to you. “Time for you to face the consequences of pissing me off.”

With one hand, he forces you down onto the bed, breasts against the mattress and your ass forcefully in the air.

And with the raise of his other hand, it was only seconds before a loud whip was heard.

Tears stings the corner of your eyes but you still held strong, biting your lip. “Is that all you got? Guess you weren’t so angry.” You laugh and Kid didn’t respond, only whipping you once more, a little more force.

“Don’t you worry. I have all night long.”

[ I could write a whole OneShot about this, I had to stop lol ]

-

Marco

Little bit harder, buttt, come on. Sex in the air? Marco’s dream, for sure. And if he’s going to admit it, yes, he has done sexual activities in the air, where no one would be around.

The blonde doctor soars across the sky, a little ways away from the ship, not too far to lose sight but enough where he wouldn’t be seen, regardless of it being the time of night.

He’s only ever done it once or twice, but the no matter how many times Marco would do it again afterwards, the first time experience couldn’t ever be bested.

Sexual activities in the air.

Yet, that didn’t mean Marco didn’t love the thrill and excitement it brought him, especially when he did it so often in his younger days.

Extending his bright cyan blue wings out and around him, Marco palms himself through his pants, shutting his eyes before slightly lowering his pants enough to release his cock into the exposed cold air.

Marco shivers before reeling back and moving so he was laying down, his wings as support. One left propped up and his fingers wrapped itself around his shaft, his touch slow.

With nothing but the moon lighting down on him and the refreshing night breeze in the midnight sky, Marco felt at ease as he continues to rub his length in a teasingly slow motion, only increasing in speed seconds after.

Marco won’t lie, when it came to his release, he often did it into his hands and a bit dripping down onto his hips and chest,

but it felt good letting his cum spurt into the ocean.

-

Thatch

It’s pretty known that Thatch is a real perv with large sexual desires. ( at least to me because of @ honeybakedthatch lol ) however, this personal secret is his dirtiest one yet.

Thatch bit his lip as he grunted out a soft groan, feeling the rest of his warm, bitter cum shooting out from his tip and into the leftover mixture of cream and condensed milk he made for the cinnamon buns.

Pulling his pants up and zipping it tight, Thatch made sure to thoroughly mix the cum and mixture together with a plastic spoon before drizzling it over the cinnamon buns he left out just for you.

The plastered grin Thatch wore merely widens as he watched the ordinary looking cinnamon buns look identical to the others, but he knew the pleasant surprise in taste that differed.

Just as he finished drizzling the cream, the door opened, you having walked in. “Thatch, I smell something good! What is it?”

The cheery, innocent smile you had made Thatch smirk a bit, the imagination all too pleasant, the thought of you eating his delicious cinnamon buns.

“I made cinnamon buns. Here, I made these especially for you.” Thatch holds out the separate plate he had and walks closer to you, placing a sweet kiss on your temple before letting you take the plate and fork.

“Enjoy. If it’s a bit too bitter, let me know and I’ll.. sweeten it up for you.”

-

Mihawk

This stoic ass man is such an intimate, romanticist, he doesn’t quite have very dirty secrets.. but, one kink he secretly has is bondage and slight corruption. He won’t ever mention it but if you bring it up, he’ll voice his opinions on it.

“Now, now, love. You should be careful.”

Mihawk’s strict but amused tone was evident as he sat in his chair and watched you writhe in the tight black silk ribbons that bounded you on the ground.

Your arms were tied behind your back, your vision blocked by a silk blindfold and your legs were forced spread by a ankle bar, exposing your bare heat towards Mihawk.

You were leaning against a table/chair, and the only thing you could hear were Mihawk’s praises and warnings, along with the humming vibration that came from the vibrator strapped to your clit.

“You might loosen the binds, and you know you don’t want that, do you?” Mihawk sternly questions and you shook your head, biting your lip to prevent yourself from moaning out too loud.

“Oh? You aren’t responding?” Mihawk smiles slightly as he leans on his hand, elbow on the armrest of his chair. “I asked you a question.”

You gasp out in realization and stammered out, trying to close your legs from the shock and orgasm you keep receiving.

“I-I mean no.. h-hah.. ah.. I, I don’t want it to loosen.” Your blush darkens at the embarrassment you held, but you loved this, just as much as Mihawk did.

-

Shanks

I could come up with a bunch of things but the first thing my mind went to was — sex tapes. Shanks is all for EVERYTHING but I feel like sex tapes seal the deal. Especially since he hooks up with so many women, I’m sure.

Shanks watches as the woman below him arches her back and curls her toes in pure bliss and euphoria.

The loud moans escaping her lips and filling the motel rooms only edged him further.

His tight grip on the woman’s left thigh glides up to grab the soft mound flesh on her left, his fingers twisting the little perky bud as he thrusted his hips roughly into her, eliciting a louder pleasurable cry.

The sound of skin slapping was the only thing heard other than the heavy grunts of Shanks and the mewls of the woman being fucked into oblivion.

Shanks, despite having the time of his life and was nearing his climax as he continued to thrust into the two small and tight lips, it’s walls clenching around him, could only think about the recording camera on its designated position on top of the drawer.

As much as he loved the real experience at the current moment, he couldn’t wait to rewatch the recording of it and relive the experience that way.

-

A/N: here you go, hun! I know you wanted a part 2 with these characters and I hope this went out you expected and wanted! :>

A few don’t have proper endings but it’s gooddd enoughhh for me. :p

jus wondering, what do y’all think Kid has? Master, sir, daddy or captain kink? Or none and just his name?

Law def has a “doc/doctor” kink lol but since I’m at it, I don’t think Marco has that.