#but dude the sexism in it is crazy

[ratmanzhq]

Saw mermaids in Moomins and had to draw them. Those bitches are cute. These two are from episode 4 of Moomins 1990 tv show.

[gece-misin-nesin]

Dorian: I won't listen to Harry again, I won't let him posion my thoughts with his cunning words

Dorian, two seconds later: *Listens to Harry talk for 3 and a half pages

Dorian: Omg Harry you're so right!!

[pinene]

Crazy how many times on here some gay dude will say something sexist and then before we can even address that, someone else will be like. Anyone else notice how all gay men are evil hedonists and even worse than straight guys? like whoaaa. Now we can’t even address the sexism because you said something even worse. and now you’re making homophobia look like a viable solution to sexism. But we can still unpack this.. we can demonstrate that while the original comment was sexist and needs to be addressed, the response was also bad. But then another gay guy hops on the post to say something even more sexist so

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 2/12)

hiii here's these two again, enjoy!!

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: eddie still hates you, you're way too nice, and gareth fucked up big time

contains: enemies to lover trope, themes of sexism/misogyny, smoking, drug and alcohol use, reader gets injured (nothing crazy), eddie hooking up with someone that's not reader, mean eddie, sexual themes, a glimpse of needy n sad eddie, mild violence (eddie punches someone), and Eddie being nosey <3

word count: 5.6k

| previous part | next part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Eddie can’t do it.

He can’t fucking stand you. He hates that you’re everywhere, always around, always lingering— like a fucking hawk— just silently watching and waiting for one of them to fuck up. And he hates that you carry that fucking journal everywhere, always jotting down notes about whatever bullshit you write about— and he’s sure it isn’t any good either way because most of the time, the band does the same shit every day. There’s nothing for you to write about. They do a show, hang out backstage, catch wind of some party, stay out until they can’t physically walk anymore, and crash as soon as they get to the hotel. 

It’s the same shit. Yet, you’re always writing something down as if something new has happened— as if it’s something intriguing and eye-catching. 

You barely talk for the first few days; you just watch and observe, and Eddie thinks this must be how animals at the zoo feel— on display and putting up some fascinating show. He hates it.

After the third show, you start to loosen around the edges and start actually talking, like a normal human being. You talk to Jeff the most, laugh at his shitty jokes and ask him questions about songs and lines he’s written in past songs, and Eddie hates that. He hates watching you sit next to Jeff and scribble in your journal as Jeff strums out a new hook. 

He hates that whenever he brings you up to Jeff and makes some snide comment about you, Jeff never joins in— just shrugs and says, ‘She’s not too bad, actually.’

As if Eddie would ever believe that.

Gareth hardly pays any mind to you; he's too busy checking out chicks and just… being Gareth, but you’ve talked to him on multiple occasions. Eddie’s caught glimpses of you two chatting at rehearsals or in the green room. You even sat with him at breakfast the other day, and Eddie— Eddie almost blew a gasket because that was his fucking seat.

You’re ruining everything, and nobody seems to notice except for Eddie, and it’s driving him nuts.

“Dude, you’re gonna scare her away if you keep glaring at her like that,” Jeff mumbles, turning back to his guitar as he runs a dust cloth over the neck of the instrument. 

They’re in the studio today because there’s no show tonight, and against all of Eddie’s wishes, Richie still invited you to come sit in for their session. Eddie watches through the glass of the sound booth as you settle in on the brown couch, pulling out that stupid journal and a pen, mindlessly clicking it a few times before writing a note. Ridiculous. 

Eddie glares at Jeff and works the gum in his mouth as he pulls a face, “Good. She can blow off the face of the earth for all I care.” He grumbles, sitting down in the metal chair beside Jeff. 

Jeff looks at him, raises an unimpressed eyebrow, and shakes his head, “She’s not going anywhere, man. You’re gonna fuck it up if you keep being so… hostile toward her.” He points out. Eddie leans back in his chair, pulling out a box of cigarettes and sparking up. “I’m not gonna be the one to fuck it up,” Eddie mumbles through smoke, “You guys are practically feeding her all the information she needs on a silver fucking platter. She’s a goddamn shark.” 

Jeff scoffs and says nothing more as he continues cleaning his guitar. Eddie glances at you and watches you talk to the producer, smiling and laughing at something that Eddie can’t hear because the mic is off and the door is closed. 

Aside from how annoying and creepishly lurk-y you are, Eddie can admit you’re pretty. You have a pretty face, pretty smile, pretty hair, a bright look in your eyes that Eddie can’t stand because you look at the rest of the band like they hung the fucking moon when they speak. You look at everyone as if they’re so important, and Eddie thinks that’s dumb. 

He glances at Jeff, watches him silently for a moment, and glances back at you, takes a hit of his cigarette before speaking, “You like her?” he asks.

Jeff glimpses at Eddie and laughs with a shake of his head, “Isn’t that precisely what you’re pissed about?”

Eddie shakes his head, “No, like,” he kicks the heel of his shoe into the floor, “Do you wanna fuck her?”

Jeff pauses his task and watches as Eddie puffs on his cigarette. “I have a girlfriend, Eddie.” He reminds the boy. Eddie glances at him and scoffs, “That chick from Chicago? Thought that was just for fun.” He responds. 

Eddie remembers the girl from a few weeks back, remembers Jeff sneaking her on the bus while they had dinner. He didn’t know they were serious.

Jeff shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief, “No, man. She’s come to like every show— and her name is Naomi; she’s not a chick.”

Eddie grunts in response, burning to the end of his cigarette when Jeff stands up and nudges him with his foot, “Just talk to her, dude. She’s not as bad as you think she is, and she asks good questions— actual questions, about the music and shit. None of that,” he waves a hand in gesture, “stupid shit we get from reporters. She’s good. Just try.”

Jeff leaves Eddie to mill about it and finish off cigarette, snuffing it out in the ashtray sitting on the amp. Eddie doesn’t believe Jeff one bit; he thinks you’re a liar who’s mastered the art of manipulation and has weaseled your way into gaining his friends' trust. He doesn’t believe you are here for the music, as Jeff had said; he thinks— knows— that you’re here to find the cracks.

You’re here to find the cuts and bruises and press into them so you can tear them apart piece by piece. A starved monster, preying on his band for some sick and twisted story to feed the media so you can climb the ladder of your industry. Eddie has met and knows people like you, and he can call your bluff from a mile away.

He doesn’t believe Jeff. But he does, however, know how to play your game. 

The next day is show day— the fifth show of the residency, and Eddie is in a good mood. He woke up with a girl in his bed, got high, went for a short walk to a nearby cafe, and even signed a few autographs for some lovely fans. On top of that, you haven’t shown up for rehearsals yet, and Eddie thinks the world is working in his favor today if you skip.

He’s playful today. He jumps on Gareth’s back and makes him run down the rows of the arena, screaming and hollering like wild animals. He and Jeff take Richie’s golf cart and go for a spin backstage, giggling when the security chases them and tells them speeding backstage is prohibited. They don’t listen, though; Eddie ignores everyone’s warnings and keeps hauling ass down the nearly empty hallways, swerving around boxes and equipment like a madman.

And Eddie may be mean sometimes; he may push people's buttons for the hell of it and do things he knows he shouldn’t just to get a reaction out of it, but Eddie isn’t cruel. He isn’t a psychopath who likes hurting people, so he doesn’t mean to speed past you and spook you badly enough to stumble into a stack of road cases.

Eddie saw you, and he tried to warn you, yelled out for you to move out of the way, and even honked, but you had a pair of headphones stuffed over your ears so that you couldn’t hear the squealing wheels of the golf cart or Eddie’s warning. He almost took you out. Almost. But he didn’t because he swerved at the last second, and you panicked and stepped back, stumbling on the heel of your shoe and falling onto the cold cement floor, slamming your back against the black boxes.

Eddie curses and comes to a screeching halt, parking the golf cart and following Jeff as he jogs over to you, quickly asking if you’re okay and helping you to sit up. As you speak, your face is twisted in confusion, wincing and sitting up, “I’m fine, I just— I just fell, it’s fine.”

Eddie watches from a few feet back as Jeff helps you stand up, face pinching in an expression of pain when you put your weight onto your ankle, and Eddie doesn’t believe it for a second. “I think you might need to get that checked—” Eddie cuts Jeff off and speaks the first thought that comes to his mind, “Why didn’t you move out of the way?”

You look at him, anger replacing your look of pain as you glare at Eddie. You grip the band of your headphones and wave it at him, “Because I didn’t fucking hear you, jackass.” You snap. “What, you couldn’t see the big ass machine hurling your way?”

“No,” you seethe, “You shouldn’t have been driving that fast anyways; this isn’t my fault. The least you could do is say fucking sorry.” You spat. And Eddie just thinks you’re a brat. Before Eddie can respond with an even bitchier response, Jeff is cutting in with a wave of his hands, “Okay, this is fucking stupid,” he scoffs, “just let me drive you to medic so you can get checked.”

Eddie doesn’t even bother helping Jeff get you to the golf cart; he simply watches as you fake your limp all the way to the vehicle and thank Jeff for helping you get in. Jeff looks back to Eddie and raises an eyebrow, “Are you coming, man?” 

Eddie wouldn’t willingly spend a minute with you if someone paid him to do it. 

He shakes his head with a scoff and tells them to go on, he’ll meet them at the stage later on, and Jeff takes off without another word.

“Did you try to hit the journalist with a fucking golf cart?”

Eddie’s good mood is long gone. 

After the whole golf cart fiasco, Eddie took his time walking around backstage and burning through cigarettes before finding himself in the room filled with snacks and drinks. He’s standing at the table filled with chips and sodas when Richie storms in and starts causing a goddamn scene.

“What—” “You know what I’m talking about.” Richie snaps. Eddie’s face twists in annoyance, “I didn’t try to fucking hit her; she didn’t move out of the goddamn way because she’s an idiot,” Eddie grumbles, returning to his task of sifting through the different brands of chips. Eddie doesn’t believe you’re actually hurt. That pathetic fall was as minor as a fall can get, and he thinks Jeff and anyone else who believes your shitty acting skills is dumber than a rock. 

Richie snatches the bag of chips out of Eddie’s hand and tosses them onto the table, ignoring Eddie’s protest as he speaks, “She sprained her fucking ankle, man.”

Eddie scoffs, “She’s faking it, Richie; anybody with brains can see that from a mile away.” He rolls his eyes. Richie looks at Eddie as if he’s lost his mind, as if Eddie is the worst villain to ever grace the goddamn planet, “You’re fucked up,” and Eddie’s stomach twists in some weird way he can’t explain. 

“You have some serious fucking issues, man. That girl did nothing to you, and you treat her like shit.” Richie spits, and Eddie hates how his throat feels tight, like someone shoved a golf ball down his throat. “Get over yourself.”

Richie leaves Eddie in the empty room, silent and, against Eddie’s wishes, feeling like the shittiest man alive. 

Eddie’s good mood feels like a dream now.

He’s silent throughout rehearsals. He sings his parts half-assed and plays his solos half-assed, too. You watch from the side of the stage, propped up on one of the road cases to take the weight off your ankle, and Eddie doesn’t even glance in your direction the entire time. He avoids you at all costs, leaving the room when you walk in, going the other direction you’re walking in, and even skipping lunch to avoid crossing paths. 

You’ve been like a ghost all day; everywhere Eddie goes, you’re somehow there, walking with a shitty limp as if trying to rub it into Eddie’s face that, ‘You did this. This is your fault.’ and Eddie can’t stand it. By the time the doors open to the arena, Eddie is more than ready to finish the show and steer clear of all traces of you.

You watched the show on the TV in the dressing room, silently snacking on a bag of Ritz crackers with your foot propped up on the coffee table beside the couch. The medic advised you to avoid putting pressure on your ankle for the next few days so you couldn’t have your usual front-row view of the show. 

The boys do good; they perform a new song they’re working on, and the crowd seems to have loved it. As usual, they get up to their ritual backstage antics, pregaming for whatever party they’ll attend, loud and obnoxious music, and cheering on whatever drinking game they’ve made up. You’re silently writing in your journal, updating the last entry on what you’ve witnessed today. Interpretations on the new music, drabbles on what you and Gareth briefly discussed about his childhood, and quick notes on whatever comes to mind while writing.

You hardly notice Eddie stumbling through the dressing room door until you hear him bumping into the side table with a curse. You look up, silently watching as he looks around the room, searching for something you’re unsure of. You try to keep your voice level to not scare him, but he is startled either way, “What are you looking for?”

His eyes are low, puffy around the edges from the alcohol he’d tossed back earlier, hair tousled with curly strands clinging to his lips. His lips are slick, swollen, and red, clothes askew on his lean frame. His jeans are unbuttoned, belt clinking as he sways a bit, licking his lips as he stammers, “Uh… my uh, my jacket—” he blinks, stumbling to lean against the door and blinking hard, “M’looking for my jacket.”

Your eyebrows raise as you watch him, the disheveled and captivating mess he is, bleary eyes gazing at you through a cloud of eyeshadow and whiskey. You breathe and point to the chair in front of the vanity, “It’s over there.”

His gaze follows your lead, landing on his strewn jacket, cursing as he walks across the room. You busy yourself with your journal, picking up where you’d left off. You can hear Eddie rustling behind you, and you try to avoid glancing back at him, but you fail, glancing in time to watch as he leans forward into the mirror to tug at misplaced strands of his hair. 

He’s silent for a moment before clearing his throat, glancing back at you through the mirror, “I’m uh… I’m sorry about,” he gestures to your elevated foot, forgetting you’re not even facing him, and rubbing the back of his hand to rub his nose and sniffling, “About your foot… Was really shitty of me.”

You glance back at him, a ghost of a smile gracing your lips, “Thank you, Eddie. I appreciate your apology.”

Eddie scoffs, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and shoving a stick between his lips with quivering fingers, “Yeah, well, that’s the first and last apology you’ll ever get from me so…” you silently watch as he lights his cigarette, puffing out a cloud of smoke and glancing at you through the mirror, “cherish it.” 

You quietly sigh and shift in your seat, ignoring his remark, “You going out tonight?” You ask.

You watch as he steps away from the vanity and walks over to the couch, plopping down on the farthest side from you with a deep sigh, “That’s the routine.” He mumbles around a cloud of smoke.

You nod, an uncomfortable silence settling over the two of you as you continue writing. Eddie is slumped down in his seat, quietly puffing on his cigarette as he gazes at you through low lids, “What are you writing?”

You look at him; pen paused over the sentence you’d been writing as you tilt your head, “I’m working on my piece… you know, the piece you’re starring in.” Eddie grumbles in response with a single nod of his head, and his eyes are so low you’d almost think he’s falling asleep if it weren’t for his determination to finish his cigarette. 

“Why— why haven’t you asked me anything?” Eddie asks.

You look at him, doing your best to keep a neutral expression as you fold your hands over the paper of your notebook, “I wasn’t under the impression you wanted to be… bothered.”

Eddie glances at you, scoffing, and you remind yourself that you’ve already somehow made the man despise you, so it’d be better to hold your tongue, opting not to remind him of the shitty attitude he’s had since you met. “I’m part of the band, aren’t I?” He shrugs, picking at the loose threads of his ripped jeans. “Shouldn’t I have as much coverage as… Jeff?” He mumbles, and you think he might be under the impression that you can’t hear him, but you do either way.

Your eyebrows raise, and you shift in your seat once again, “Well… would you like me to ask you some questions?”

Eddie is more gentle when he is drunk, you think. More pliable, softer. The stone-hard deflective shield he has thrown up for you has withered beneath the alcohol. Where his eyes are usually cold and sharp, they are now softer and telling— of what, you’re not sure yet. He shifts further into the couch and shrugs, and you take a deep breath and flip to a clean page, scribbling Eddie’s name in the corner.

“Okay, Eddie,” you begin, turning ever so slightly to face him. “Tell me about yourself. Tell me about who you are aside from the frontman of Corroded Coffin.” You glance between your notebook and Eddie, patiently waiting as he takes a drag of the burning paper. He looks at you, the majority of his face shielded behind unruly dark curls, and the room is so silent it’s nearly deafening.

Eddie shakes his head so gently you almost don’t notice the movement, “I don’t…” he bounces his leg once, “I thought this was about the music.”

You nod, “It is.”

Eddie gently blinks, like if he blinks too hard, the earth might shatter, and you think it’s beautiful, and you think you might hate that.

“It’s about the music, but I can’t write about the music without knowing the creator, can I?”

Eddie looks at you, eyes almost clear with lips parted around smoke. He blinks again, and you smile in encouragement, situating the pen in your grip. He looks at you, studies you, his gaze dropping to your awaiting hand, and his face twists in some expression you can’t put a finger on.

Before Eddie can speak, the door opens, both of your heads snapping toward the door as a tipsy Gareth pops his head inside, “Eddie, come on man, the car’s here.”

If Gareth had noticed the odd combination of you and Eddie sitting on the same couch, willingly enduring each other's presence, he wouldn’t mention it. 

You look back to Eddie, and you almost want to stop him as he gets up because, god, you were so fucking close. So close to finally touching Eddie. But he’s gone quicker than he came, the scent of his cologne and smoke lingering like a ghost, and despite Eddie giving you absolutely nothing to write about, you find yourself writing about him either way with nothing but his scent to aid you.

Eddie is drunk, and he can not, for the life of him, stop thinking about you.

A girl is climbing over him in the back of a taxi, and Eddie can only think about you. The look of pain you had when you stood up after falling, the way you looked at him as if he was the bane of your existence— it makes Eddie’s stomach churn, and he wishes the culprit for his nausea was the alcohol, but it’s not. Eddie knows it’s not because the second he thinks about the way you smiled at him in the dressing room, the way you said his name, the way you spoke so gently despite how much of an asshole he’s been to you, Eddie’s sick stomach settles and erupts in this annoying warm flutter.

Eddie can’t think of anything but the fact that he wants you to smile at him more, wants to hear you say his name again, and talk to him in your gentle way.

His face pinches in frustration, fingers gripping the girl's waist as she mouths at his neck. She moans against his skin, grinding down against his bulge and grinning when she feels him rut up against her. Eddie mumbles something, he’s not sure what he mumbles because his brain is split between worlds of scary feelings and arousal, but the girl laughs, scraping her teeth against his thumping pulse, “That journalist?” She asks.

Eddie blinks away the foggy cloud, “Huh?”

Lany pulls away from his neck and looks at him, biting her lip and tilting her head as she rubs up against him again, Eddie grunting in the back of his throat as his face twists in pleasure. “The journalist. You said her name.” Lany hums, drifting her hands up Eddie’s chest and grappling at the collar of his unbuttoned sheer top. Eddie blinks again and shakes his head, “I didn’t,” he denies.

Lany giggles, “You did, Eddie.”

Eddie glances over her shoulder, making awkward eye contact with the driver through the rearview mirror, and he slightly grimaces and looks back to Lany as she leans in, ghosting her lips over his and tauntingly whispering your name. Eddie grunts in protest, squeezing her hips in a warning. Before he can say something, Lany kisses him with a hum before pulling away to where her lips brush against hers as she speaks, “Did you fuck her?”

Eddie pulls away from Lany, a look of distaste on his face as he glares at her, “Did I— what? No,” Eddie cringes as if it’s the worst thing he’s ever heard— and it’s not, and Eddie… Eddie hates that, he thinks. “No, I didn’t fuck her. Are you serious?” “You want to fuck her then?”

“I want you to stop talking about her,” Eddie counters, dragging his thumb across her bottom lip and watching as he drags the plump flesh down, grinning when Lany nips at his fingertip. “Maybe put these pretty lips to good use, hm?” He taunts, grin widening when she nods and sucks his thumb down to the last knuckle, his jeans tightening at the feeling and sight.

And if Eddie did say your name, he doesn’t think about it. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that he’d been thinking of you for whatever odd, fucked up reason, and he doesn’t try to figure out what that weird flutter feeling is when he thinks about your softness, the softness he’s been depriving himself of.

He doesn’t dwell on any of it because Eddie is drunk, and when Eddie drinks, he thinks of and does stupid things, things that sound good at the moment but will screw him over in the long run.

And Eddie wants nothing to do with you anyway, and it’s not like one half-assed drunken conversation changed that, right?

Eddie’s got a blistering headache and a churning stomach as he stands outside the studio the following day. It’s drizzling, gloomy clouds drooping over the looming buildings of New York, and Eddie always hated this kind of weather; he preferred a full storm over the tease of a shower.

New York has never been Eddie’s favorite place, it’s dirty, and reeks of trash, and the people are shitty, but he likes how easy it is to blend in with the crowd; not many people notice him here, and that’s rare these days.

He’s leaning on the stoop of the building, tiny drops of rain dripping from the portico onto his leather-covered shoulders. A burning cigarette hangs between his fingers as he watches the traffic go by, taking slow puffs to ease his body.

He hardly notices you when you bounce up the stairs until you stand just two steps below him. He glances at you and sees the coffee cups in each of your hands. You extend one out to him, “Would you like one? They accidentally gave me two.” You offer.

And you’re fucking nice. Despite how shitty Eddie has been towards you, you’re still nice to him, and Eddie, for the life of him, can’t stand it. He thinks you’re weird, insane, stupid. Thinks you were probably dropped as a baby more times than anyone can count because there’s no way somebody in their right mind would willingly give him the time of day when he’s treated them as shitty as Eddie has treated you. He nearly ran you over, for Christ's sake.

Still, Eddie doesn’t falter, “No. Probably spit in it on your way here.”

You laugh, and it irks Eddie in a way that makes him want to shiver as if the sound were nails scraping against a chalkboard. He distracts himself with a drag of his cigarette as you say, “I didn’t, but thanks for the idea.”

Eddie grunts in response, focusing on the last of his smoke as you tell him you’ll see him inside before walking up the rest of the stairs. Eddie barely acknowledges you as you pass him, but he acknowledges the sound of something dropping beside his feet. He looks down with pinched eyebrows, eyeing the notebook lying on the wet ground.

It’s your notebook— obviously— he’d know that stupid journal from anywhere. It’s a pale yellow with two leather straps you like to tie in a lousy bow, and Eddie believes it’s an annoying color, but he thinks that has more to do with the fact that you chose it. Mindlessly, Eddie picks it up, shaking off the rainwater before it seeps into the pages, and he turns to give it to you because he’d assumed you realized you dropped it, but you’re gone.

Eddie blinks, eyeing the door and the book in his hands, and Eddie knows he should just follow you and give it back because that’s the right thing to do. Knows he shouldn’t peek inside to see what your mind is like, knows you’d probably kill him because Eddie would do the same if anyone looked into his thousands of journals back home, but his fingers itch, and before he can stop himself, he’s flicking his cigarette bud away, leaning against the building and cracking the front page open.

Eddie’s not sure what he’d expected. Maybe something interesting, like a list of dudes you’ve fucked or some rant about a friend, but Jesus, how much more boring could you get? Grocery lists, reminders to book appointments, dates for work meetings, boring shit that Eddie could care less about. He flicks through nearly half of the book before anything piques his interest, snickering when he comes across a page of you talking about a guy named Danny, “What a sap,” Eddie mumbles to himself, softly chuckling and turning the page.

He flips through a few more pages before halting because Eddie's name is right at the top of the page. 

The door opens, and he jumps, fearing you might be searching for your lost journal, but it’s only a staff member. Eddie watches them trot down the steps before returning to the treasure in his hands, eagerly reading as if the book will turn to dust before he gets a chance.

And Eddie thinks he’s fucked up, screwed up in ways he never really wants to address. Despite Eddie’s outwardly attitude of thinking he’s the best at everything and knows all, there are still ugly parts of him that he so badly wants to reach inside and pull like weeds from a garden, crack his chest open, and take it from the root; pieces of him that can make him crumble quicker than a house of cards on a rickety table. 

However, the way you write about Eddie— the words you use and the so careful placement of each thought— it makes Eddie feel something he forgot he ever could about himself, and he doesn’t like how it makes his insides twist. He hates it. Eddie hates that you can read him as if he’s a fucking children’s book. Hates that you can see and point out parts of him that have been lost for so long he’d thought it was a dream. He can’t stand it. 

But as much as Eddie swears he hates what you’ve written and as much as he hates that it makes him feel something other than disdain, he can’t stop reading. He wants to read all you can say about him and only exist in the imagery you create of him because Eddie, for once in a long time, is someone in your eyes.

You write about Eddie like he is a person, a human being with real feelings and depth and a history of memories you’ve never seen or heard of before, but you still somehow manage to paint him so clearly. Inside your words, Eddie exists as more than the entity that fame has created him to be, and Eddie can’t remember the last time he read something about himself and didn’t feel like a pawn. 

It’s… refreshing.

Eddie flips the page, thinking there will be more you’ve written about him, but he’s selfishly disappointed when he realizes it’s just a personal entry. He scans the page, nearly deciding to close it for the day, when he catches a glimpse of a familiar name— Gareth.

It takes Eddie a moment to fully grasp the words you’ve written, the meaning of what exactly you’re explaining that you’d apparently discussed with Gareth. As soon as he lets the words settle into his chest, he’s storming into the building quicker than he can comprehend.

Bursting through the room of Richie's rented studio, Eddie makes a beeline for the sound booth where Gareth is busy tapping out a steady beat.

Eddie barely acknowledges you and the rest of the band in discussion off to the side, but his abrupt appearance has halted all conversation in the room. He storms up to Gareth behind his drum set and wastes no time gripping the man’s collar, gaze lit with fire and words seething as he leans in and glares down at the man. The room goes silent as soon as the question leaves Eddie’s lips, “Did you fuck Chrissy?”

Chrissy Cunningham was Eddie Munson’s high school sweetheart.

As the story goes, Eddie spent the better part of high school crushing on the cute captain of the cheerleading squad. For as long as he can remember, Eddie had been labeled as the school freak— something to do with his love of fantasy games and ‘odd music taste’— so he’d never imagined he would get a chance with Chrissy, but that all changed after a weird spiral of events they experienced together.

Eddie and Chrissy dated for a few years until Corroded Coffin went big. The long-distance trial of their relationship didn’t last long; Eddie rarely called Chrissy, and when he did call, they could only ever find time to argue about whatever Eddie had been photographed doing. Chrissy never came to watch the band once they moved out to LA, and she broke Eddie's heart the one time she did. 

So, it’s no surprise that reading the words in your journal has twisted the knife that’d been lodged in Eddie’s chest for so long that he was sure he couldn’t feel it anymore— he was wrong.

Gareth is looking at Eddie as if Eddie has asked him if the sky is blue and Eddie’s mind is a whirling wind of fire. “What are you talking about, man?” Gareth’s eyebrows pinch in confusion.

Eddie sneers and pulls him closer, Gareth leaning so far off his stool that Eddie's grip on his shirt is the only thing keeping him from the ground. Gareth drops his drumsticks to grab Eddie’s wrists as Eddie speaks, “Don’t bullshit me, Gareth. Did you fuck Chrissy, yes or no?”

Eddie looks at his best friend, and he sees lies, something he’s never had to associate with their friendship, and it almost hurts him more than what Chrissy did. Gareth stutters, shaking his head as if he wants to say no, tries to say no and deny that he slept with his best friend's girlfriend, but he can’t.

Gareth whispers Eddie’s name so quietly Eddie nearly misses it, but the quiver in his voice is all Eddie needs to hear to know the truth. Eddie doesn’t take a second to think before he cracks a closed fist down on his best friend's cheek, sending him back, crashing into the symbols in a clatter of noise.

He doesn’t wait to hear Gareth’s spew of apologies, and he doesn’t wait to listen to the pathetic excuses he makes up because he’s marching over to you next, a scowl on his face as he tosses your journal into your lap, and you look up at him in shock, “You dropped this on your way in.” 

And if this is the end of Corroded Coffin, then Eddie’s sure you’ll have one hell of a story to write. That’s what you wanted all along, isn’t it?

A good story.

————

part three

————

a/n: AHH U MADE IT TO THE END, PLS LET ME KNOW HOW U LIKED THIS PART I LOVE TO HEAR UR FEEDBACK, ILY BYE

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975

[crooked-wasteland]

I’m weirdly torn about Lite’s character arc.

On one hand, feminine rage (yes please), she’s the only one who understands Hell can BE A THREAT (sure, Charlie and Pentious are nice and all, but there are other people in Hell who are probably not well intentioned), she’s rightfully pissed that her role as second in command was overlooked for some (admittedly sweet) guy who doesn’t even wanna be here, and she’s rightfully upset that her sisters and best friend/man she loved were murdered in a job that she was authorized to do by the supposed good guys. She shouldn’t be seen as the bad guy for being convinced by others that what she was doing was right, and is upset when she’s told all her work, her allies, and Adam being killed meant nothing.

On the other hand, she’s being depicted as the bad guy. I’m not saying she needs to be sympathetic, 100% likable, uwu babey. But her pain and issues are being brushed aside to make her appear like the stereotypical “crazy bitch” who will probably be the villain of the season, or at least A villain. Not the antagonist, the VILLAIN. Her grief and valid opposition is more than likely going to be villainized, when in reality, she may be cold and sadistic, but I don’t this Lute is ultimately a bad person. She spent her existence fighting for what she was told is right by a holy figure. Not some cultist or priest who says God talks to them, but THE ACTUAL HIGH SERAPH. She was convinced angels don’t make mistakes, to the point she never questioned that in all her cruelty, if she was right or wrong. She believed she was right. If this were on Earth, on could compare this to crusaders or people who force conversions or kill anyone who doesn’t agree with their beliefs. But I don’t think that can really apply, because Lite isn’t human, she lives in HEAVAN. Religious asshole humans aren’t comparable to ANGELS who are familiar with THE SPEAKER FOR GOD HIMSELF. So her genuine belief she is doing good is understandable, but will probably be what makes her villainized. Or maybe it will be the fact she’s in mourning? Who knows! Viv will never skimp on presenting a woman as a villain for the flimsiest of reasons.

And on the other other hand. Yes, it suck a huge part of her motivation is her connection to a MAN (the first man, no less) who is a douchebag. But idk if that’s that big of an issue. For all her being sad her boss/love interest/a dude died, there’s also her being angry that her position as leader was passed over for some guy as well. I’m not saying it evens out, but maybe it does? Not to mention that even though Adam was a dick, he was more than just a man/asshole/boss/probably misogynist, he was also her friend, someone she looked up to as a leader, and still was comfortable enough to hang out with when not on the job. He called he names, but that might’ve been out of familiarity rather than genuine malice or sexism. Then again, Viv never really let us learn Jack shit about Adam as a person, other than CHARLIE GOOD, ADAM BAD. So while it is kind of iffy from one perspective for Lute’s arc to be connected to Adam, I don’t think it’s an issue of gender, and more of the fact that she meant something to him.

Sorry for the long ask, but what’re your thoughts?

I agree with pretty much all of this. I think she is an extremely compelling character and I think her deeper character reasons for being a real villain are solid. I even think the song itself is genuinely good at showing that Lite isn't only raging about some guy. The actual meat of her character is really well balanced on paper, and the song does a decent job of depicting that ...

Until it gets to Adam.

The issue is the poor pacing of the writers and how we never got to see Lute and Adam as much. Lute is extremely formal in most of the scenes in the early part of Hazbin. Calling Adam "sir" doesn't give the impression of "best friends", so she does come off as oddly obsessed, especially with the rushed "crazy bitch" routine as you pointed out. We don't actually have a strong foundation for their relationship. Additionally, the revival of Adam as a figment of Lute's imagination as she falls into some form of psychosis is just rather silly. I understand it's to give Lute someone to talk to, but it makes Adam as a love interest is the most important characterization.

I do completely agree with your points on Lute's character. She has excellent motivation, and a clear arc that I also think is worth the effort. It just suffers from weak world building and lazy shortcuts.

[duncanlesbianism]

watching star trek tos in modern day I'm not like. blown away by sexism or anything. however I am blown away by how constantly horny everyone on the enterprise is at all times. the amount of times that these dudes get swindled because they see batting eyelashes and a single shoulder is genuinely crazy. i've never related to male characters more in my life

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

thoughts on sokka and zuko's netflix actors ian ousley and dallas liu (jokingly?) teasing zukka in interviews? are they queerbaiting?

For those who don't know what the fuck queerbaiting is: you know how Disney announced "it's first openly gay character" in literally every movie they've been releasing lately, and these "characters" are always on screen for only 5 seconds so it won't annoy conservatives or be banned in China?

That's them trying to use the promise of gay content to get people (be it gay people or someone that just wants to know if Disney will handle the subject properly) to watch their stuff. It's just false advertizing in rainbow colors.

Netflix, being the cheap bastards that they are, love using "We got minorities in this!" to advertise either their bland, bad shows that will get a million seasons, or the rare good show that they'll cancel way too soon because they seem to be alergic to quality. Either way, the gay content they promise audiences is usually there - you know, it's just not good because Netflix hates good things. Hell, they made Oma and Shu a lesbian couple from what I've seen.

Considering I've heard that the cast of the Avatar Live Action is pretty comfortable dunking on Zutara as a ship despite it being crazy popular and some fans literally only watching the show because they thought it'd make Zutara canon, and even having the balls of saying their show is less problematic than the OG one because they cut the plot of Sokka unlearning sexism, I'd say they're not claiming to like Zukka because some executive told them to, in the hopes of getting people to watch. The actors are probably either two buddies joking around because "Dude, what if our characters got together?" or saw some fanart/headcanon on Twitter and rolled with it.

So no, it's not queerbaiting, it's just actors voicing their opinion - basically the same as the Wedneday situation. The actresses for Wednesday and Enid ship their characters, but Netflix never gave any indication that these two would be a thing, and the internet only cried QUEERBAITING because people can't accept that sometimes the goth girl and the girly girl don't kiss because none of the writers even thought about making them gay.

And before someone inevitably goes "Oh but one/both of them are straight/don't want to discuss their own sexualities - are they queerbaiting when showing excitment at the idea of their characters hooking up?"

1 - Real people can't queerbait because their sexuality is a personal matter, not a product meant for other people to consume.

2 - If Netflix does want to make Zukka a thing (and I've seen nothing to sugest that they do) and starts promoting it, it's the CHARACTERS that would have to be gay, not the actors. I'm pretty sure Zuko's actor can't create/control flames at the palm of his hand, but that doesn't mean he's lying to people, he's just an actor acting. Even if and Sokka's actor have to play a gay couple at some point, it won't be queerbaiting for them to do so and even be excited for it/thinks it makes sense for their characters, regardless of what sexuality they are in real life, because the actors are not their characters they're just people doing a job.

[melrosing]

It's crazy how often sexism leads to terrible media opinions. It's girly to have a compelling and emotional narrative with character arcs. Fangirls interpret the narrative as being deep and meaningful so we have to push back on that. People really think like that it's insane. Toxic masculinity is coming for Jaime from all goddamn sides he can't get away

yeah I do genuinely think that's a significant part of it, like I've seen enough times the whole 'redemption narrative' being blamed specifically on jaime fangirls which is just laughable, given the author has talked in interview about redemption as a theme in Jaime's story, and about his personal belief that redemption should be possible for everyone (his catholic ass showing)

and on some level sure, it's natural there will be different opinions in the room as to whether Jaime can be redeemed or not, GRRM anticipates that himself when he talks about redemption as a theme in that Rolling Stone interview. but then, there are things I don't necessarily want to happen in asoiaf, but if it's patently clear that that's where the narrative is headed.... well then that's that?? cope??

but yeah I think there's a specific antagonism towards 'redemption jaime' cos like 'oh you just want to fix the hot boy' and it's just??? so condescending lmao, like everything fans have to say about the story and its themes are reduced to vapid fantasies because you know the girlies can't think straight when it's a hot fictional dude. istg if hot fictional dudes were all I wanted there tend to be better sources than a song of ice and fuckin fire

[skygemspeaks]

okay so after seeing all of the first three episodes again last night with friends and falling even more in love with the cast than before, i finally got around to episode 4 today. some thoughts:

i can't gush enough about the set design, it's all absolutely gorgeous. i was completely in love with the little clearing where young zoro and kuina have their match, just seeing the sunlight filtering through the trees...it really gives off that kind of nostalgic, romantic feeling that you get when you think back to a simpler time in your life. and of course, kaya's mansion is gorgeous! it doesn't look like yet another generic rich person mansion. it has character! i loved all the wall art in their dining room, i like the orderly yet cozy cluttered feeling of the kitchen, i love how it all feels lived in, like it has a history

talking more about the technical aspects, i love the costume design too! i like the slightly too clean look of the marine uniforms - it brings notice to the fact that these are new cadets who don't have much fighting history. i like that both nami and sham get to wear practical clothes! no stupid high heels for nami! no short shorts!

i didn't mention this last time, but i LOVE jacob's version of usopp. it's crazy that they managed to find a guy who can do usopp's over the top facial expressions in real life. they really lucked out with this entire main cast, i can't imagine literally anyone else playing our beloved straw hats. i hope we can see at least one more season, and i hope i adore robin and chopper just as much as i love these the east blue crew

as sad as it is, i'm glad that it seems like merry really is dead. i like this more brutal direction for the live action, because it feels like there are actual consequences for them, and i like that you can't take for granted that just because someone survived in the manga/anime, it means they'll survive in the live action too

the child actors are a little stiff, but i think they're really doing a good job given how young they are! young zoro's actor was definitely doing a better job that kojiro's. he sold his grief over kuina's death very well

speaking of koshiro, i still fuckin hate that dude. he did kuina so dirty with his sexism, convincing her she had no future as a swordswoman, making her believe that she could never stand up to men.

i think having koby and helmeppo show up at kaya's mansion and inevitably get duped by kuro was a good choice. it lets koby get a little more experience in a leadership position, and more than that, it helps establish usopp's distrust of the marines. from the beginning he was always interested in the romantic view he had of pirates because of his dad, but seeing that the marines failed him, even after they said they would help him, and that they didn't believe him no matter how much he begged them to, it helps establish a reason for him to go along with the pirates when they invite him to. the marines didn't do shit to protect kaya, but luffy and his friends did everything they could. they loved kaya, maybe not as much as usopp, but they wanted her to be safe.

side note, it's kind of hilarious to think about helmeppo trying to kill luffy, and then going back to the ship and finding out that he's garp's grandson 💀💀

when we are! started playing in the background as the going merry set sail for the first time with her crew...i cried, i'm not ashamed to admit it. gosh, i missed her, and i miss the first opening. it's so nice to see her get to go on more adventures with her crew in this new medium! i know some people were unhappy with her figurehead, but i just adore it, it suits her crew well

luffy's little shit-eating grin when kaya just gives them merry for free, and nami being just SO exasperated because he's gonna be so insufferable now, it made me laugh so hard! i love these idiots

when usopp and luffy were arguing about which one of them was captain, and nami just burst out laughing? and then zoro started chuckling too? that was so healing! they've already had good chemistry so far, and they've shown loyalty, but it's so nice to finally see zoro and nami kind of starting to admit that they do like these people they've become friends with, and it's nice to see that they're coming around to how much they care about luffy

i was a little iffy about them doing the garp reveal at the end. my first instinct was to be really annoyed by it, but after thinking on it for a moment, it honestly does make sense. in the first place there wasn't really a plot reason to put off the reveal until post enies lobby anyways. and then you also have to take into account that it would be a huge success if we ever even get a second season, let alone reaching post enies lobby. so it's not ideal, but i'm not too upset at them about it. ALSO, seeing zoro, nami, and usopp's reaction to the news was fucking hilarious. i hope we get some good dynamics in the next episode! i want to see garp call luffy his idiot grandson. i want that funny family dysfunction.

[flpopularmusic]

Bea Miller And feminism

Greetings!

In this week's class, we came across the idea of feminism in music and the male gaze.

I thought that I could talk about an artist I like and one of her songs that is quite explicit but extremely well written and just great!

The song I am talking about is the song "THAT B****" by Bea Miller, there are a lot of things I could say about this or the album cover which is quite interesting as we can see a woman traditionally dressed as a man and a man behind her cooking for her in a dress during the 50's which are years (decades) full of misogyny, racism, homophobia and just xenophobia in general but the lyrics in themselves represents well feminism and denounces sexism and double standard as being what it is: ridiculous: 

"There was a time, this guy, he tried to tell me

"Men can cheat, women can't" (bitch) (f***, I can't)

Then he proceeded to ask me out on a date

And I f-***' laughed

"If you're a woman, you were made to pleasure me" 

But out in public, hide them shoulders underneath"

We can see that she is addressing a real issue in society about the difference in treatment between men and women when it comes to promiscuity.

This song is just full of profanity and sometimes she uses a gravelly voice which is things that one may associate with it as being only for men. But it brings another dimension to her song and adds more depth to what she is singing about.

"And since you are a dude, yeah, you can tell the truth

But as soon as I do, I'm a *** (you're a crazy b***)"

Many songs denounce misogyny elegantly sometimes not so elegantly but that does not make it any less valid. A point has been made! 

Let me know if you already knew and liked this song!

[onbearfeet]

A conversation in a comic shop.

(For context: I am a middle-aged white-passing woman with noticeable boobs, wearing jeans, boots, an OD green jacket, and a T-shirt that says, "It's Not Hoarding If It's Books." Also a mask and a lot of corgi fur stuck to the whole ensemble. I am visibly female and of a certain age, but not presenting high femme today. The shop is staffed by the owner, a wiry bearded dude who looks about 5-10 years my junior, and a staffer, a lanky younger guy who looks college-age, both white.)

Me, walking in: Oo, nice. This looks promising. Hmm, new comics there ... got some figures ... oh, hell, yes, I see back issues back there ...

Owner: Welcome to (name of shop)! How'd you find us today?

Me, still actively scanning around: I googled "comic shop near me" and swore a lot.

Owner: Well, thanks for doing that. Can I help you find something? We have (lists everything the shop offers).

Me: I'm looking for any and all issues of (recently launched Marvel series). Doesn't have to be a complete run; I'll take whatever as long as the price isn't crazy. I'm buying to read, not to collect.

Owner: I think I might have all of that, actually ...

*we head into the back issue room, where we chat for several minutes as he eventually digs up three excellent comics*

Me: Sold. Lemme give you money.

Owner: That's what I like to hear! *begins ringing up purchases* So, do you think you'll be coming back here again?

Me: Probably! You've both gone this whole time without being misogynist, gatekeeping dicks, which is fantastic.

Owner: Is that ... a problem you have a lot?

Me: I've been going to comic shops in this body since the 90s, so historically, yes. Even today, it's basically a coin flip.

Owner: *blinks* *looks me up and down, pausing just a LITTLE longer on my chest* Oh. OH. Yeah, that would suck. We don't do that here. We just sell comics.

Staffer: Uh, what don't we do?

Me: *tells several comic-shop-sexism horror stories while the color drains from Staffer's face*

Owner: And THAT, padawan, is what we call "bad customer service." We don't do that here, right?

Staffer: *vigorously shakes head*

Owner: Right answer.

Staffer: Can I ask a question?

Me: Sure.

Staffer: WHY did ANYBODY think ANY of that was a good idea?

Me: *exchanging a look with Owner* What do you know? The children ARE our future.

Staffer: ???

Owner: 😀

Me: *runs away, cackling and clutching my comics like a gremlin*

[kneelingshadowsalome]

i don’t know if you answered something like this before, but what if there was another woman that came into könig’s life, say someone who genuinely is attracted to him and who actually wants to pursue him as a partner (for whatever fucked up, weird reason she might have), would he break it off with Engel? i mean, there is this other woman, who is willing to be in a relationship with someone like him, willing to give him the attention and affection, willing to make up for everything Engel has lacked and more. and könig does have a weak spot for any woman that gives him any morsel of attention, so do you think he would pursue something… better? if it was on the table, right then and there? or does he truly believe Engel is his one and only??

Oh man. :")

Premise one: König loves women. He can't help it! So it's better to just deal with it.

Premise two: Women don’t love König back. Or at least 99.9 % of the women population don’t (I myself am part of the 0.1 % who do, and I'm proud of it)

Also… women don’t usually flirt with König. Or if they do, they eventually realize this guy is crazy and abort the mission. König gets obsessed really soon, and at that point the said ladies are nowhere to be seen. Reader of course is an exception – there's some circumstantial evidence she might belong in this 0.1 % group as well.

König is used to the fact that all women play hard to get. (...) Usually it’s he who takes the first step. So, if a woman flirts with him, it’s such an odd situation that he freezes at first! Attention is like the hardest drug you can give to this dude.

Now it depends what kind of a woman is approaching him and how, but it's safe to say that König wouldn’t be mean. But he would make it clear that he’s, eh, NOT AVAILABLE. His eyes might wander, he might feel a little funny, mainly because of the sudden attention. But Engel is still his one and only! This man is loyal to the death, even if he's happily surprised (he's in seventh heaven) that a woman shows interest in him.

If this woman doesn't back down but flirts some more, starts to show kindness and affection and obsession, sees what kind of a man König really is and still falls in love… Starts to cherish his craziness & adore and worship him…? Oh no. Sound the alarm.

Our man would be in HELL.

If König and reader have a loving relationship, König doesn't really pay attention to other women: they are only brief distractions. Engel is pretty much all he can obsess think about.

But if reader is hesitating, isn't so in love, and a woman who is ready to give König everything he has ever wanted walks into the picture, he would be soooo tempted. He would be torn between his Engel and this new, intoxicating attention, especially if reader is trying to detach from him, has mixed feelings about their relationship, isn’t 100 % committed or is still scared.

Due to his turbulent childhood, König has developed a sixth sense. It tells him when something is off. If he doesn't feel secure and loved in a relationship, of course he would hope to find these things someplace else... The temptation would be torment, however, because under all that sexism and those flaws, König wants to be a good man. He wants to be good to his chosen one. He has put reader on a pedestal, holds her in such high regard. She is the purest of angels in his blood-tainted, rotten world.

But what is he to do if his angel doesn't want him…? With a heavy heart, he would slowly start to succumb to the temptation of this infatuated, passionate, attention-giving, obsessed woman.

So long story short: if Engel loves him, no other woman could ever come between them! But if she doesn’t, if the situation is unstable, there is a chance he might slip. Poor thing.

(Because of course it’s all women’s fault, they're simply too sweet and make him confused, make his head spin. What is he to do when women flee from him all his life and then suddenly there's two girls who don't, like, refuse him?? He doesn't know if he's in heaven or in hell.)

[thisisyourprincipalspeaking]

Not people in here about to have me defend this pale man. 😅

To the anon who mentioned his white privilege. One must assume Chris got Captain America due to his race, or that he became a celeb through privilege. Yes as a white man he’s afforded privilege. I do acknowledge that.

But one must also acknowledge that Chris was a basic ……still is a basic white man from Massachusetts. He graduated high school early and went to NYC and got a damn job to try to put himself out there. He sent in letters like millions to talent agencies to try to be seen. But his ass was working in an office and saw the reality of the entertainment industry. He’s struggled to get roles and put in the time and auditioned for things. He’s now had a fair share of success and that’s led to more opportunities. Chris is also human and has his own internal problems and insecurities which I believe have hindered him professionally a bit. I don’t know the man like that, but to boldly state that he’s some rich privilege white male as though that’s the end all be all for his success is crazy to me.

Dude knew what he wanted and went after it, THAT is how he started. We are not going to sit here and try to lump all of his accomplishments and work ethic to…..well he’s white so it’s very easy for him. Has he had it easier than others in other ways simply due to his race, absolutely.

Im African American and I be damned if I sit my ass online mad at white people for being white instead of doing something productive with my life.

I deal with racism, sexism, etc but I be damned if I allow any of that to stop me from accomplishing anything. Do you think Octavia or Viola would be where they are with your mindset anon?

White people open doors for their individual needs, we open doors for each other.

Chris made sure Octavia didn’t have to be in a scene that had her petrified of being hit. He used his privilege to get her out of a scary situation. Had she complained on her own she may have been fired, idk. But if that’s not using your privilege for good then what is?

I think you miss the point of people stating just because things look like they were a “choice”, doesn’t mean that’s the end all be all, feel me?

If one believes he truly is everything implied based on how his current circumstances appear, then why waste time arguing over this white man and his privileged ass?

We have to stop this “blame the white man for all of our problems” mentality. Yes they did a lot of shit to us and its left and continues to leave scars, it’s led to systemic racism, colorism, police brutality, etc but we still made these beautiful lives, we define the culture, we are IT!

I also advise you to educate yourself on white privilege. Please google the white panther party. You have to understand that in order for us to have moved to better and get the civil right movement moving forward, we had allies in places that we weren’t allowed to be and because of these allies they assisted is making things better for us. We have rights, we have more opportunities than our ancestors and we didn’t get here alone.

My worth and value is not dependent on what evil racist choose to do. When they go low, we go high, now mind you I’ll gladly step down a few pegs to put people in their place and then rise back up to my level. 💅🏾

i think i love you, anon

[barkspawn]

Can you rank bachelors, from best to worst as husbands? Lol

Ah fuck I've been thinking about this.

Y'all already know how part of this will go:

Sebastian is my first choice always. Idk. I have many reasons but idek if you wanted those so have a frog 🐸

Elliott. I've never actually married him in game but like I said, I've been thinking a lot about it. I would say next time but see above. (I'll keep loving him in fics)

Actual human puppy Sam. He's just.. What you need in a relationship. Friends above all else but will still try to impress you until you die.

Harvey. He's a sweetheart and awkward, so making him blush would be dope. Also let's not pretend he's not just a wee bit crazy in bed. Maybe my brain made some shit up, but he's shy outside and all of that stress has to go somewhere.

Shane. I know, I know. Why is he so low when you love him, Tori? Don't be silly. But that's the thing. You go through all of this for him to go right back to where he was. What happens to Jas? There's so much here and I adore writing Shane, but I hate that the hot bastard can't be fixed. (10/10 ten heart event tho. Esp if you got that one mod.)

Alex. Sigh. I want to like him so badly. Truly I do. But he's just... Meh. High school star that has tragic backstory and ends up with the pretty girl. (either way, every farmer is stunning). I feel bad about his mom and the letter hurts my soul, but dude your deep-set sexism gets me a bit. Also you never kiss him? Idk. Y'all know I'm a sucker for a kiss.

Das it. I honestly love writing them all but ask and you shall receive.

[ablatheringblatherskite]

my thoughts on ep 1 and 2 of the live action ATLA series!

So it is absolutely GORGEOUS. like the visuals??? the costumes?? THE VFX??? OUTSTANDING. CHEF'S KISS. INCREDIBLE. the worst thing is Zuko's scar and like ok whatever nothing we can do about that.

Episode one was fantastic we actually see a lot of great additions, which is COOL! like more of Monk Gyatso, and the actual attack on the Air Nomads... 😭

I'd say writing wise it's not as great as I want it to be. A touch too many monologues for my taste, especially in the first episode, but nothing too bad. Could've been better, but definitely DEFINITELY could've been worse *eyes the movie that will not be named*

You can tell they're trying to squish important plot points together instead of spacing it out across more episodes I mean especially since Netflix decided everything has to be EIGHT EPISODES. but the pacing is actually good considering that LOL

but oh the EMOTIONS. THE EMOTIONS?!?!!

the actor of Aang oh my gosh, Gordon Cormier, OMG. DUDE I NEARLY BAWLED MULTIPLE TIMES BASED ON HIS PERFORMANCE ALONE. IT WAS ABSOLUTELY HEARTBREAKING 😭 HE'S SO GOOD 😭 and he's so cute too he's so baby I'm wjrhwhrhwhdhwhdhwh

I love the actors of Sokka and Zuko whdhwhdhshdsjjdhsjd. Ian Ousley and Dallas Liu? DID NOT DISAPPOINT.

SOKKA WAS HILARIOUS we BURST out laughing SO MANY TIMES, he was so GOOD 😭 the jokes he cracked were genuinely funny wwhdhwhgd and the SARCASM especially. and HIS ACTING THE ACTING HE NAILED IT?? It was so natural and THE EXPRESSIONS HE'D MAKE AND JUST. ALL HIS ACTING CHOICES IN GENERAL WERE SO GOOD. HE WAS HILARIOUS. and other than the funny parts in general he was just so good! HE GETS IT. HE IS SOKKA.

and Zuko was so good too like, we haven't gotten to all the juicy angst yet so I can't fully judge, but so far he's done SO well. Like especially the moments he'd get really angry and also HE'S SO GOOD AT MARTIAL ARTS. SO.

BUT HE'S ALSO RLLY FUNNY TOO??? especially when he gets annoyed with Uncle Iroh LIKE THE BODY LANGUAGE WAS SO SUBTLE BUT IT WAS HILARIOUS. and YES UNCLE IROH WAS GREAT TOO, I LOVE HIM SO FAR. HE IS ALSO HILARIOUS and does seem like Uncle Iroh to me so far!!

Katara hasn't had much to do yet and much like. acting stuff or much to do with her character yet but like that's okay, I'm pretty confident they're still building it up. They haven't gotten to the JUICY bits yet. But she was already so good too.

I'm really interested in some changes, like how they focus more on the Avatar State as a plot point? It's interesting LOL. There was also a shot that showed that in this universe, Katara actually saw her mom die?!?? like omg, that's so gruesome I'm crying.

and it's true that they cut out the sexism arc of Sokka 😭 BUT BUT BUT. IAN OUSLEY. OH HE GETS IT. Like you can see he's really doing his best to keep it a part of the story, like in his acting choices, he's still trying to include the more sexist aspect of his character even if the script isn't supporting it. Like he really truly did his best with what he had and he nailed it, it's the script's fault

And I will say I'm not crazy about some of the stuff they added to Suki? like, I wasn't crazy about the whole "thank you for bringing the world to me" thing, but it's just okay LOL. She's frickin GORGEOUS tho

(also I was really hoping we'd get the scene of Sokka wearing the Kyoshi warrior outfit and makeup but sadly they didn't put it in but it's okay)

OH BUT THE CRUMBS. THE SOKKA AND SUKI CRUMBS. OH THEY'RE SO CUTE. ESPECIALLY THE SCENE IN THE DOJO WHERE SHE'S TEACHING HIM?? OH IT WAS SO CUTE. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. you can tell they're doubling down a bit more on their romance, especially since we know it's already gonna be endgame, but it's making me wonder how they'll tackle Yue 🤔

but yeah. Sokka and Suki stinking adorable I was SQUEALING MULTIPLE TIMES, I LOVE IT I LOVE IT

and the BENDING. THE BENDING IS KRIFFING GORGEOUS. IT'S SO GOOD. THE STUNTS?? THE MARTIAL ARTS?? BEAUTIFUL!! MAGNIFICENT!! PERFECTION!! and the VFX?? HECK YES. AUGH!! I'm definitely not disappointed about it. And I love how dangerous the bending legitimately feels?? like it feels so LETHAL. And there were some really shocking bending moments that were done incredibly well. I loved it.

so YEAH. IN CONCLUSION. so far, judging from just the FIRST TWO episodes... I rate it a 7.5/10

The writing is maybe a 6.5/10, but the acting for sure a solid 9/10. DEFINITELY worth the watch imo, BUT so much more enjoyable with an open mind and acceptance that it's not supposed to be a carbon copy of the show.

[yanderes-galore]

Fandom: BioShock (infinite I guess? Idk some time during Atlas was around)

Character: Atlas, Irish twat

Pairing: Romantic for Atlas, altho darling would theoretically not like them.

Type of Fic: a short. Plot being, darling tries to escape Atlas again (who wouldn't the dude is nuts) and he cements his craziness by giving her a lobotomy (like in the game) as punishment. Whether he finishes the surgery or not is up to you, all I know is that you can theoretically survive a lobotomy. Or not, idk I ain't a doctor

I'd love to! I watched the cutscenes with Atlas in them for Infinite and I'd love to write something similar to that!

I had to do lobotomy research for this fic-

Change In Mindset

Yandere! Atlas Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Manipulation, Failed escape attempt, Kidnapping, Lobotomy attempt/Punishment, Forced relationship, Sadism, Violence, Torture mention, Murder, Sexism if you squint ig, Blood, I kept the Lobotomy scene vague and not detailed because I hate the idea of it and I was cringing the entire time, Put the image under the read more as it could be a triggering gif.

Traversing Rapture alone was a dangerous feat. Splicers roamed everywhere and actively hunted each other down. Rapture was a collapsing city consumed with conflict.

To you, the idea of hiding from Splicers like some street rat in a sunken city was better than going back to Atlas.

Ah, Atlas... a revolutionary leader against Andrew Ryan's tyranny. In reality, the two weren't all that different. If anything you found Atlas a bit more sadistic and cruel than Ryan.

Atlas was also your lover. You wish you could say he wasn't... but he was never too keen on the idea of letting you go. You had become an item with him on a whim, he's charismatic and has such a way with convincing people.

When you got closer to him you realized the truth of who Atlas was. He wasn't a charming leader, it was an act. He's cruel, manipulative, and willing to kill and torture to get what he wants.

That very same Atlas tried to be sickeningly sweet with you. He called you his girl, his doll, his lovely lady.... The very same mouth that hurled insults and threats towards others... kissed you with passion and complimented you.

He's a charming monster. One who metaphorically chained you to him to keep you as his. You had no doubts he killed and tortured for you... just so he can keep his claws in your flesh.

There was a certain point you couldn't handle being beside him anymore. His kisses and hold were always too rough. He made you do what he wanted, regardless on how you felt.

That look in his eyes screamed possessive. He always looked at you with hunger as he held you. He scared you... sometimes you feared he'd kill you.

You escaped... you ran the moment you sensed danger within the man who claimed to love you. The Splicers were not much better but with some stealth you could probably survive, right? In all honesty... you had no idea where you were going to go after this.

Escaping Atlas was simply a dream. Ever since his whole crew had been sunk by Ryan, you have been stuck here. It's like you were in a cage, really.

He'd find you at some point... there was no doubt he was looking for you now. You knew he'd never let you go willingly. In fact, many of his thugs swarmed this area.

You felt like everyone was your enemy. Think of your situation, a young women lost in a city that's falling apart. Her lover being a cruel tyrant for "the people"....

Being caught was inevitable. You could only run for so long. As much as you wanted to ignore the truth, the truth would slam back into your face.

Just like the wrench that collided with the back of your head.

...

By the time you're able to regain your bearings, you're strapped to a chair in a familiar room. The lights blind you and your head throbs painfully like a rhythmic drum

This looks a lot like... the room you and Atlas would frequently stay in? You can't think much without the back of your head ringing in pain. You shake in your restraints, trying to pull them off.

Only to stop when the shape of a hand grips your chin.

"Don't move, doll, it'll only make it all hurt a lot worse."

The tyrant rears his deceptively charming head.

"Atlas...."

"Now where were you running off to, little lady? Needed some fresh air? You know it's dangerous without me around...."

You stay silent, what were you thinking....

"It hurts, really. To think you'd run away from the one I thought you held so dear. Luckily I had one of my men carry you in..." Atlas then leans forward, grinning. "Of course, he hit you rather hard, so I had to correct that by slitting his throat. You aren't getting off easy either, love."

"You really are going to kill me, aren't you-"

"Kill you? I could never. I love you too much for that..." Atlas leans forward to kiss your lips teasingly before pulling away. "I would never kill my doll... however, a man has to correct his lady's behavior, right?"

Your heart drops to you stomach when Atlas turns away only to come back with two tools. A metal spike, and a mallet. Your eyes shakily trail from the tools to his disappointed face.

"I thought you'd be a good girl and listen to me. I guess not... which is where these come in. Normally a doctor would do this but I'd rather do it on you myself, my love."

He pushes your head back and aims the pointed tool near your eye socket. You shake and tell him 'no'. He doesn't listen.

"This is a lobotomy, my dear." Atlas hums, pushing the tool closer.

"You could say it will correct your behavior. I always felt you've been a bit too rebellious for my liking."

You feel the tool starting to prod its way into your skull. Atlas grabs the mallet and grins while blood flows down from your eye.

"How about we change your mindset, love? I promise to be gentle...."

You scream for him to stop... he ignores you and taps the mallet on the tool lodged in your skull.

----

You felt like you lost a part of yourself after Atlas took you in. In fact, you literally did. Atlas had removed a part of your brain. Some memories from your past were replaced with what felt like blank holes.

Your emotions... were nearly non-existent. Apathy was all you ever felt. Actually... you felt quite hollow.

Atlas didn't seem too upset about it. In fact, he felt it was deserved. Running away deserved punishment... now you wouldn't run away. Now you had to stay by him.

Atlas still kissed you and said he loved you. Even though he mutilated your mind beyond repair, he simply used it to his advantage. Now you were just like he had wanted you.

You were like a doll that listened to his every word. You never showed much emotion afterwards. That only allowed Atlas more control, which kept him happy.

"It's such a shame I had to change you like this, doll...." Atlas murmurs, kissing you once again while holding your cheek. "But if I'm being honest... I like that you no longer fight me with anything now."

He pulls you closer, combing his hands down your back.

"Now you won't run... you won't even rebel..."

Atlas holds your chin upwards and meets your distant gaze.

"You can just be my girl... with none of the added fuss, right, love?"

He kisses you once again, but you don't react.