#every time something happens in that damn ambition i say this

[elleryhart]

light fingers going well

[sutorus]

THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.

PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader

WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms

A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?

reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:

it is said that those who cannot do, teach. 

geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility. 

but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do. 

to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man. 

but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you. 

he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—). 

when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like. 

(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)

it was slowly starting to consume him.

the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year. 

god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—

he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it. 

everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives. 

everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him. 

but you damn well managed to. 

and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair. 

“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”

bullshit. 

the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately. 

and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class. 

it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!

but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there. 

however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.

you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours. 

his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.

his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed. 

under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are. 

but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know. 

but you knew for a fact that it was personal. 

“i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”

you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”

he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”

“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance. 

“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively. 

“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”

megumi lifts an eyebrow. 

“you need to get one for each,” he says simply. 

you grin. “deal.”

suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class. 

it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious. 

watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test. 

he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you. 

the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well. 

the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak. 

he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class. 

when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild. 

he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another. 

you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages. 

you smile, waving at the screen. 

“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”

your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.

“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.” 

you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying. 

“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”

you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had. 

“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”

you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip. 

“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”

as always, satoru is no help. 

“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”

suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”

satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.” 

suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you. 

“that won’t fix anything.”

satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.

“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”

suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.

at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong. 

it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself. 

he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again. 

it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that. 

suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this. 

your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest. 

the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know. 

damn right it’s personal. 

you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation. 

geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off. 

he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.

“to what do i owe the pleasure?”

your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over. 

“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”

the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.

“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“

“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”

“miss—“

“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger. 

geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“

“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”

he sits up, straightening his posture.

geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”

you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on. 

“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”

there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair. 

he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet. 

“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you. 

you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”

the man hums. 

“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”

you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“

“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.” 

your mouth goes dry.

before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from. 

it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo. 

you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction. 

you had really thought things couldn��t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently. 

but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you. 

“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest. 

he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”

you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom. 

you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.

“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue. 

“what a shame.”

your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”

he smiles sweetly. 

“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now… 

now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.

those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun. 

you could so easily forget what you came here for. 

“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”

he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”

“geto—“

“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”

you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn. 

you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“then… push me, professor.”

it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest. 

he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together. 

it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two. 

he’s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh. 

geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief. 

you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips. 

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.

but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.

geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan. 

his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core. 

“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”

he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin. 

“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.

geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside. 

you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips. 

the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you. 

“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”

you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again. 

“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”

you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.

not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.

you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat. 

he looks so good like this, just edible.

you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.

geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive. 

he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock. 

it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds. 

“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly. 

“tastes better on your tongue, prof.” 

geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of. 

he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees. 

you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper. 

“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face. 

he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants. 

you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved. 

you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside. 

he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth. 

god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would. 

you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.

you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones. 

“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”

“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”

and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man. 

but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo. 

so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“

and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time. 

he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over. 

geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.

“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt. 

you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.

“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“

“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core. 

you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.

it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you. 

“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs. 

his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else. 

geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear. 

“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt. 

you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn. 

you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him. 

longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you. 

he notices you looking. 

“do you need more prep? i can—“

“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk. 

he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”

you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip. 

“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”

geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him. 

“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head. 

his spirit is so unbreakable.

here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better. 

geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair. 

“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized. 

“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”

he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers. 

“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—

fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this. 

he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle. 

a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.

you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back. 

when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening. 

“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts. 

he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out. 

“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”

you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. 

the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you. 

you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade. 

“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“

“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go. 

he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin. 

your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.

he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt. 

“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“

he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips. 

geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you. 

“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“

you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.

“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom. 

you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.” 

“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”

geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you. 

“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”

“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”

“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”

you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts. 

“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”

you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you. 

you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you. 

your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer. 

the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release. 

geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got. 

“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“ 

it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you. 

he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure. 

it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you. 

geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of. 

when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy. 

“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows. 

“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”

“…is probably going to happen again, right?”

he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.

maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.  

you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips. 

“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?” 

the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession. 

so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles. 

and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.

[dekariosclan]

Having watched Gale’s ‘Evil Ending’, read a few spicy takes, and thought about it for a bit, I just want to point something out: every time Gale has any interactions with the Heavens/Elysium/The Gods, be it in-game or as an alternate ending, it’s not good for him, and he’s never truly happy.

Of course the Evil ending is the most extreme version with him straight up hating the Gods and waging war, but in addition, there’s also:

Gale having suffered during his time in Elysium as Mystra’s plaything Chosen

Gale becoming God of Ambition, but losing his family/ Tav

Gale becoming God of Ambition and ascending Tav, but him still being insecure/unsatisfied with himself, and possibly destroying the Pantheon

Gale dying from attempting to be a God and failing to dethrone Mystra

Gale dying after following Mystra’s orders to detonate the orb (causing many to suffer if done in Act 2, the very thing Gale NEVER wanted to happen)

Gale becoming Illithid and then being taken to Elysium with Mystra, in a scene which has which has chemistry lower than the Mariana trench and is possibly the unsexiest thing I have ever seen

So, when people say that Gale should forgive Mystra, become her Chosen again (which is spoken about on the docks in the ending where he returns the Crown to Mystra), and that the Evil Ending shows this is a ‘good’ thing…I’m not seeing it.

In contrast, I could talk about the ending where he leaves the Crown in the river, the orb remains in his chest, and how that works out great—he’s not beholden to Mystra, he’s happy and satisfied with himself/Tav/his life which results in the orb being dormant, then later Mystra cures the damn thing permanently anyway, AND he gets to have a cool scar that keeps his students in check, and also definitely lights up when he’s horny for Tav, etc. etc.

But I’m gonna go one step further and talk about what happens when Gale goes to Hell. Yes, Hell. Literal, actual Hell, the farthest place from Heaven, which is what happens when he is romanced by origin Karlach and he goes with her to Avernus.

Remember how every iteration of Gale in Heaven results in him being unhappy in some way? Here’s Gale in Hell with his beloved Karlach:

He is happy as a clam!

Tara visits them frequently!

There’s even a f*cking bookstore!

In Conclusion:

If you want Gale to be truly happy, KEEP HIM AWAY FROM THE GODS.

[evilbihan]

I'm not going to acknowledge that person by name because I have no wish to interact further with her, nor to have others find her and give her any attention. But with Noob Saibot being brought back, I remembered this rancid take they had, quote: "Bi-Han is a man who has time and time again become Noob Saibot, a man whose endings have shown the Netherrealm is where he wanted to be" which is wild af to say.

Because Bi-Han doesn't just 'become" Noob, he is literally made into Noob. Quan Chi resurrected him as a wraith that turned him into Noob Saibot and now Titan Havik tortures him and uses some insane magic even Liu Kang doesn't know, to turn him into Noob. It's not like some magical girl transformation. We're talking awful evil stuff being done to Bi-Han against his will, to warp him into this being known as Noob Saobot, who is stripped of his humanity and almost everything that made Bi-Han who he was.

And Bi-Han never wanted to end up in the Neatherrealm. In the previous timelines he literally had no choice. He was forced into the role of assassin. He was molded into one practically from birth. In Mythologies when he goes into the Neatherrealm he's informed that his soul is already tainted with evil, which is why he can exist there. That's not because he simply woke up one day and decided to kill some Gods for shits and gigs. He had to do what he was ordered to do or be a traitor to the clan and marked for death anyway. It was a lose lose situation. If anything this shows that Bi-Han was never where he wanted to be. His strings were always being pulled by someone else. History is repeating itself now. And leaks even say that Liu Kang doesn't fault him for his desires, but only the ways he goes about achieving his ends. Which further proves Bi-Han doesn't have some nefarious plots in mind with the deliberate intention of landing himself in the Neatherrealm.

She said she doesn't hate Bi-Han, but then this reads as a deep missunderstanding of his character. And at that point, if you can misinterpret his character to that degree, you probably don't like him much either.

Another day, another take so stupid it makes me want to never interact with anything MK related ever again.

Oh, who am I kidding? The trailer already achieved that.

Needless to say, you're 100% correct and this person, whoever they are, is obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed. People who think Bi-Han wanted any of this are either being ignorant on purpose and want to misunderstand his character because they hate him or they're so blatantly stupid they don't understand the very simple fact that Bi-Han being turned into Noob Saibot always happened against his will in every damn timeline.

Does it look like Bi-Han tied himself to that damn wheel we see in the trailer? Does this person have the attention span of a goldfish and just missed the part where he looks terrified out of his mind when those drills/needles approach him?

For goodness' sake, I didn't want to talk about the trailer because watching it made me want to gauge my own eyeballs out. I never felt this sick looking at something in my life (that's coming from someone who plays horror and fighting games on the regular) and yet here we are and I'm talking about it regardless now. I hate it here.

But anyway, you're right. What more can I say? Anyone with even an ounce of common sense would know that. Anyone who has ever played any of the Mortal Kombat games should know that Bi-Han was forcefully turned into Noob Saibot. He was never evil. He was always a neutral character and he's still a neutral character in the New Era.

What more confirmation do you need outside of Liu Kang himself admitting that there's nothing wrong with Bi-Han's ambitions, only with his methods of achieving them? Ashrah says Bi-Han can be redeemed, Bi-Han said only people who don't understand him would mistake him for evil, the Lin Kuei all stand behind Bi-Han and support him... He isn't evil and he never was.

He literally saves Liu Kang's entire stupid trainwreck of a timeline single-handedly in this DLC and people still have the audacity to say he's evil?

I wish he was.

I wish Bi-Han would just sit back and watch Havik destroy Liu Kang's timeline along with all the pitiful hypocrites in it. I wish he'd let all of the fandom's pathetic favorites get torn to shreds and laugh.

But he won't. Because Bi-Han is a good and honorable man deep down.

Disagree and be wrong. It's as simple as that.

PS: Wasn't MK:Mythologies Sub-Zero all about Bi-Han trying to avoid ending up in the Netherrealm? He reacted with shock and concern to being told his soul is tainted with evil by Raiden and he was trying to turn his life around. There's even an ending in one of the older games where he kills Shang Tsung and leaves the Lin Kuei with the prize money from the tournament. Bi-Han never wanted to end up in the Netherrealm. Claiming anything else would be ignoring canon lore.

[ronance-romance]

Concept: Robin and Nancy are seen leaving the Wheeler house together after Robin has spent the night. Chaos and rumors ensue.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Nancy rubbed the edges of sleep from her eyes and opened the door to see Robin. Suddenly she was wide awake. A visit that wasn’t from one of Mike’s friends was rare. Because she didn’t have friends. Except…for Robin. And here she was, rain soaking her to the bone and shivering. Nancy had no idea what to say for a solid minute or so before Robin broke the silence for her, as was customary.

“Can…I c-come in, Nancy?”

“Yes,” Nancy blurted, entirely too loud of a volume for the time of night that it was. She stepped aside and went on a dash for some towels to dry the soaking wet girl.

“Sorry to bother you so late, I just couldn’t. I had nowhere to. Uh. Never mind. Sorry. Maybe I should go home. I mean, it’s 2:30 a.m. and I probably woke you up.”

“Here,” Nancy said simply, handing over a stack of towels. “Bathroom is that way.” She pointed. “Take all the time you need to get dry.”

“T-thanks.” Robin sounded on the verge of tears and Nancy thought it would tear her apart.

She wasn’t sure why Robin’s pain was affecting her so much. It wasn’t like they’d been friends for very long. Not like her and Barb, who she had known forever. Definitely not like her and Barb. First of all, Robin was still alive and not dead by her hand. The secret dreams she had of the blood she had on her hands because of her ambition and since. It was enough to bring her to tearful panic under her covers every night.

Did she tell anyone about this? Of course not, why would she?

“Hey, Nancy?” Robin called faintly.

Nancy pushed her way up the stairs, moving through fog inside her and past the urge to open the bathroom door as fast as she could. Her heart was in her throat as she looked at Robin’s pale, wet face once again. Damn her for coming here at all. And damn herself for answering the call. What the hell were they doing? For once, she didn’t have a Nancy Wheeler-esque answer and it bothered her to no end. It really bugged her, not knowing something. It was worse than getting a test question wrong at school. Especially if it was her best subject.

“What’s up?” Her voice sounded normal. Thank god.

“Clothes aren’t getting dry, I’ll have to borrow yours,” Robin said as if she was announcing the weather and not the single most panic inducing thing she could’ve possibly said that night.

“Right, right…”

Was it too late to declare this as some kind of fever dream and wake up to the sound of her alarm? She forced herself to move. Grab an outfit for her to sleep in. Return to her friend.

“I’ll get changed now. I mean, with the door closed. Duh. You probably don’t wanna stare at me. I mean if you do, that would be-”

“Close the door,” Nancy said. She wanted to jump out the window.

Robin emerged in clothes that were a bit small for her because of Nancy’s size, but it was passable for the night till her actual clothing dried. Nancy threw it all in the dryer and switched it on.

“Can I stay in your room?” Robin whispered.

“Sure.”

Nancy didn’t ask questions. If Robin wanted to talk about what happened, she would. So she kept quiet and let her guide the moment. It seemed to be working so far. She had barely laid down when she felt another presence in her bed. She was too exhausted to be able to tell if this made her uncomfortable. One thing was for sure, she didn’t dislike it.

BEEP BEEP BEEP—-

“Stooop,” Robin whined, slamming the alarm violently. Nancy was up and out of bed before Robin had even finished her sentence.

“Your clothes should be ready in the laundry room. I can drive you to school.”

“Hey Nancy?” She turned and looked back at her.

“Thanks…for not asking questions. I don’t like talking about home stuff, you know. Shit’s embarrassing.”

“Of course, Robin.”

The drive to school was uneventful. Nancy stopped and got them both some much needed caffeine to get through the day after such a sleepless night for the both of them. Robin’s clothes were rumpled, like she had slept in them. She didn’t seem to much care. Meanwhile, Nancy was touching up her makeup in the parking lot, even triple checking it. They couldn’t be more different and yet they seemed to be closer than ever.

“Oh. My god.” Dustin snorted as they walked up to the school together.

“What?” Nancy rolled her eyes and sipped at her coffee. Vanilla, caramel, whipped cream. Oh she so needed that.

“You guys spent the night together?” Mike said in disbelief. “How did I not even notice??”

“Because you’re all hung up on Will,” Nancy quipped.

“I’m not!”

“Why does it matter so much if we stayed the night together?”

“There is a running bet,” Lucas spoke up. “On whether you guys are dating.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Nancy spluttered, her face going as hot as a stage spotlight. “I’m still dating Jonathan.”

“Barely,” Dustin pointed out. “You said yourself..”

“I said NOTHING of the sort.”

“Right,” Robin said nervously. “That would just be silly. Us, dating. Nobody even thought of that besides you weirdos!” She chuckled. For some reason, Nancy felt a twinge of regret at how vehemently she had responded.

“I mean…I’m not really into girls,” Nancy continued quietly.

“Now that’s a lie if I ever heard one,” Will said through a mouthful of Poptart. He appeared with Jonathan.

“Hey babe!” Jonathan smiled. “What are we talking about?”

“Umm look at the time we have class!!” Robin shrieked, grabbing Nancy’s hand and disappearing down the hall with her. It was in that moment Nancy realized Robin holding her hand made her heart race than anything else in her life up to that moment.

Well the rumors were sure gonna fly now…

[strangeracrossthestreet]

okay okay

ENOUGH anger over Arcane (maybe a little anger at Arcane) I wanna gush over Ambessa and her song and what it says about her (and be a little mad over Arcane just ignoring it all)

I was raised by wolves I was born to lead And I starve 'til there's no more mouths to feed

These damn lyrics eat me alive every single time I hear them. "And I starve 'til there's no more mouths to feed"! She's leaving herself hungry to feed those she wants to protect!! This is before Mel and Kino! She's someone who feels so strongly, who would deprive herself of what she needs if it means the ones she cares for don't have to go without!

There's a hand on my throat And a blade at my feet But the weight of the world won't bend my knees

These lyrics make me imagine the blade at her feet is pointed up towards her, so that if she ever did fall to her knees, it would impale her. Showing the literal cutthroat world of Noxus. Strength makes Right, as it were.

Broken bones, battle scars I have seen the bloodshed Carved in stone, when it's my sword They won't forget

This one is for sure showing her making her legacy, climbing the ranks, creating the Medarda House.

No war, no peace 'til I lead them all Leave me with my demons Hear my voice call No fears or sorrows underneath these bones Just blood, sweat, and tears Is all I know

"Is all I know" is such a tragic line when we know that she's someone who values her family so much, and not just her family, but those she considers close. Take Rictus for instance, or hell even fucking Caitlyn. Whoever manages to prove themselves in her eyes, she will respect them and not betray them.

But Noxus teaches that "fears and sorrows" are not necessary. Strength above all. Fight and fight and fight, there is nothing else; just blood, sweat and tears.

How can you be gentle when raised in such an environment? Even though you'd rather starve than let those you care about do the same? Better to embrace the demons, embrace the code. Morph your inherent desire to protect into something harsher, and sharper. Teach through harshness the way you were taught. It's all you know.

I can use who I want And I taste what I please In this world, I get all my fantasies

This is her ambition! She's a proud woman, she has every right to be. And I really dislike how much s2 tries to put everything wrong that is happening on Ambessa's ambition. Her ambition is what got her to where she is, in Noxus. But it's not her ambition that sees her to Piltover's doorstep, it's fear. And not even fear for herself, but fear for her remaining family.

Her ambition, her fear, should have been a mirror to the overall themes. Piltover and it's "progress" is not all that different to "ambition." Zaunites' fear and inherent desire to protect themselves and each other from Piltover's oppressive regime, to rise above it whatever it takes (blood, sweat and tears.) But her ambition was instead made to be The Titular Problem™ which is just weird and annoying

Honestly Jinx's attack on the Council should have absolutely piqued Ambessa's interest in Zaun as a whole regardless of Mel almost getting killed in the aftermath (it's that ambition peeking through, being able to so coldly compartmentalize that this attack is not personal. It's that harshness and fear that means she can work with Zaun as long as it means that in the end Mel will ultimately be kept safe from Noxus and those that hunt Ambessa); to have them strike back so heavily at Piltover even at the kind of disadvantage they are in is what true Strength is about—but that's an entirely different rant, I got carried away.

There's a hand on my throat And a child at my feet But the weight of the world Won't bend my knees

And this one. This one! She has a family now! If she bends the knee, she'll crush her children. If she fails, her family will be the one to suffer the consequences in a country that is absolutely ruthless towards anyone they perceive as "weak."

No war, no peace 'til I lead them all Leave me with my demons Hear my voice call No fears or sorrows underneath these bones Just blood, sweat, and tears Is all I know Don't wash away my blood Don't wash away my sweat It's all I know Don't wash away my tears (Don't wash away, don't wash away) Don't wash my spirit, don't cleanse my soul Can't break my courage, and I won't fall 'Cause that's all I know No war, no peace 'til I lead them all Leave me with my demons Hear my voice call No fears or sorrows underneath these bones Just blood, sweat, and tears Is all I know

This is just her internalizing it so strongly and being unable to let go of the teachings Noxus has imparted on her. Without the fight, without the blood and the sweat and the tears, who is she? If she doesn't bare her teeth at the world, it will swallow her whole, she's absolutely convinced of it. Better the demons you know, than the demons you don't.

She's such a strong and ambitious character, but there is so much fear and desperation beneath it all. She could have been so good, rivaling Silco. But S2 just, refused, to!!! It makes me so smad.

[bozawarriorsposting]

Following up from my last post about this AU, this is some info about the four damned souls on 'probation' and their Overseer

Mudclaw

The ““““Leader”””” of the group

Spent his entire life with the ambition of becoming leader, grew up with stories of his great ancestors and what a Warrior should be

Devoted himself to his clan and lived every second of every day as the ideal Warrior cat, revered the Stars and it seemed it payed of as he was made deputy

Stolen from him and given to some sniveling coward making googly eyes at a Thunderclan kittypet

VERY bitter

Tries to take charge in every situation, the other three tend to fight him on this depending on how dire it is

Gruff, blunt, cold, and easily irritable

“Ends Justify the means” as a lifelong motto, and they are doing Starclans will, so the Ends MUST be good

Despises the other three, but this goes for all of them

Does find some enjoyment in these missions, it's something to do, a chance to prove himself,

makes it feel less like his life is over

Can manipulate mud and physical matter as a spirit, very good for dropping trees on cats, Starclan has a sense of humor

Ashfur

Felt fully vindicated by Starclan’s decision to let him in, and was happy to watch as Squirrelflight and her wretched family suffered

Yet… they did cope with it, and while everyone back in the real world recovered, Ashfur was still dead, still alone

His obsession emerged again as Ashfur found that his death was as empty as his life

He HAD to do something…

Yeah, Starclan decided to nip that one in the bud

PISSED at them for shunting him here

He thought he was proven right with his entry into Starclan, then they let his murderer in too

WILL try and take revenge on the stars… at some point

Dubious honor of being the most amoral out of the four

I mean, its neck and neck all the way down

Tends to keep his unhinged nature in check

Pretty good liar,  capable of disguising his true self

Still gives everyone else the creeps so they still don’t trust him

Thinks he is far more clever then he actually is

Generally acts as a moody, if very vindictive. Will sometimes just get very Overdramatic about something tho.

Ability to possess living cats, that and also limited emotional manipulation for more discrete methods

Needletail

Out of the four, the one that most recognizes she messed up

Which isn’t saying much, she still sees her rebellion as justified, and Rowanstar as being more culpable just because of how weak he was

Rebellious teenager turns into a very rebellious ghost

She isn’t doing this for Starclan’s approval, she wants to be in Starclan when Violet dies so she can apologize for everything

Has something resembling a moral backbone

Still self serving in the end, and it’s not hard to have moral standard higher then zero

She tends to go along with the plans, but makes her displeasure abundantly clear

Is very caustic, snapping at everyone more than the others usually do

On the lighter end, she might play pranks on the rest of them, the others will find it funny as long as it doesn't happen to them.

Sometimes plays contrarian just for the sake of it

She is surrounded by stuck up fanatics that will do whatever Starclan tells them to, so why not screw with them a little?

Doesn't actually mind this As much as the others, She was bored and tired in Starclan with nothing but constant reminders of her mistake, now she is a ghost and gets to do spooky stuff occasionally, kick ass.

While Needletail is bothered by some of the stuff they do, doesn't mean she doesn't enjoy scaring some apprentices out of a forest because "Starclan's Will" or something.

Power is either luck control or something that similarly is unpredictable and upends everything

Appledusk

Is having the worst time

Was looked down upon in Starclan, he was an average warrior, and is now solely remembered as a consequence in what is the equivalent of an old wives tail

He wasn’t particularly ambitious or anything, but it does sting to be known as nothing more than what happens when you have a cross Clan relationship

Then suddenly THIS happens

Out of the four, he is the most afraid of ending up in the dark forest, for obvious reasons

Would have the thing most resembling a moral compass, but has absolutely zero spine

Is essentially resigned to doing whatever Starclan tells him so he can get back up there

Has also been dead the longest out of the four, so there is some disconnect between him and actually living, more like a loose memory at this point

In life was a smooth talker, real womanizing charmer, a real sleazy asshole

And he still acts like that occasionally

But under the surface he is just exhausted, wants to go back up to starclan and rest until he fades

But nope, he is going back down to the mortal plain, risk getting murdered by his ex, and have to work with a bunch of War Criminals

His power is warding of some kind, while the other three affect the physical world, he makes sure they don’t get attacked by the things lurking in the forest, or for other starclan spirits to find them and ask exactly what they are doing

Clear Sky

Very much enjoying getting to lord over other cats again

This was more or less his idea with what to do with at-risk Starclan cats, is trying to keep it on the down low in terms of activities

Not a secret, he did get the thumbs up from the rest of Starclan, but he does keep their operations vague in terms of what exactly happens

Starclan gets what it wants, prophecies come true, who is paying attention to the details

What does it matter if some mortal lives get ruined

Been dead for so long that the idea of a mortal life is almost unimaginable to him

Is proof of why Fading exists

Represents Starclan at both its most self righteous and amoral

He is morally right because he is the stars

You know the Vast from TMA? that's essentially what he can do

If you piss him off, you will be getting the worst case of vertigo of your life at best

Falling forever in a pocket dimension at worst

Falling from the very real sky and into the very real ground as a sort of midpoint between experiences

On the mortal plain, a clear sky means that he can observe almost everything from above

The Four learn to fear a bright sunny day and a cloudless blue sky, for it means that their “Benefactor” is watching

[reasonsmandy]

Unfinished Melody

Eddie Roundtree x Fem! Reader

✧.* requested by anon — prompt 38 with eddie roundtree 🥰

✧.* summary — The secrets that the walls of Eddie's Chicago hotel room held have lived in your memories since that morning, the words you two uttered without thinking still reverberate in each other. And maybe that's why after so many years none of you have even touched on the subject, but years later a reunion would bring all of that to light.

✧.* warnings — none

✧.* word count — 3.6k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — In case you'd like to be tagged in other djats stories of mine, the link to my tag list is at the end of the story. Good reading :)

Chicago Stadium

(July 12, 1979)

10h00

"Please tell me you're joking." Your hands were sweating and you tried to contain the tightness in your chest, looking him in the eyes was impossible.

"Do I look like I'm joking baby?" Eddie says running his hands through his hair. "You have to understand me..."

"I can't believe you sometimes Eddie." Your voice came out shaky, and when he noticed your downcast face, he felt a tightness in his chest. "You're just going to leave the band, our family, for what? Your own selfish ambition?"

Eddie let out a sigh. "It's not just about my ambition, Y/N and you know that. It's about Billy. I can't take his shit anymore. He thinks he's the star of the show and everyone else is just there to support him. That's not what we signed up for and you know that pretty girl, come on."

"But we've already achieved so much," You say, feeling the frustration rising on your chest. "We're on the verge of something great. And now you want to throw it all away because of Billy? You're being ridiculous!"

Eddie stood up, pacing around the room. "Ridiculous? You think I'm being ridiculous? You don't understand what it's like, Y/N. To always be in the background, to never get any recognition."

You don't let him continue, your face turns serious. "I've been every step of this journey with you, I don't know if you remember but I also stay in the background. If anyone knows what you're talking about, it's me. But you don't see me ranting to the wind about how Billy likes to be in the spotlight or how only Daisy is mentioned as the band's female icon. What we live here is something unique my love, can't you see that?"

Eddie's face softened at your words, but he still seemed resolute. "I'm sorry, gorgeous. I just can't do it anymore. I need to follow my own path, make my own mark on the world."

"And what about us?" you ask, your voice breaking slightly. "What about our dreams, our plans for the future? You're just going to delete me from the equation, is that it?"

Eddie hesitated, his eyes searching yours. "Come on honey, don't be like that."

"Answer my question." You felt your heart break.

"I don't know, Y/N! Damn it, I don't fucking know." He looked anxious, frustrated with everything that had happened in the last few days. "I need some time to figure things out."

You shake your head in disbelief. "You can't just leave everything behind, Eddie. The band, our family, our life together. You can't just walk away like it never mattered."

"I know it's not easy," Eddie says, his voice low. "But sometimes we have to make tough choices to get where we want to go. I hope you'll understand someday."

You feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. "I don't think I'll ever understand this, Eddie. But I guess it doesn't matter. You've made up your mind."

Eddie moves towards you, his arms open, but you step back. "Don't," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just...give me some space, okay? I need to process all of this."

Eddie nods, his eyes filled with regret. "I understand. I'm sorry, gorgeous. I never wanted to hurt you."

You turn to leave, your heart heavy with grief. "I know," you say, your voice barely audible. "But sometimes, even when we don't mean to, we hurt the ones we love."

You left Eddie's hotel room leaving your heart there, you've always been in love with him since you were a little girl when you lived in Pittsburgh. Parting with someone so important to you was like losing a part of your own body, and you knew that that emptiness in your chest would never leave you peace.

...

Since then

(1979-CURRENT)

Your hands brought the cold water that came out of the faucet towards your face for the third time, you tried to camouflage it but the nervousness grew in your chest like a weed in fertile soil. It had been two weeks since you had finished your interview with Julia Dunne, for the documentary she was organizing about "Daisy Jones and the six", and when you recorded your last take she invited you to a barbeque at Billy's house that would get the whole band together to talk about old times.

At first you were reluctant to accept the invitation, but after talking to Warren about it, he and Lisa convinced you to accept. As you gazed into the mirror, you took note of your changed appearance. Your hair was shorter now, and the creases around your eyes were more pronounced. But despite the passage of time, you still recognized the same Y/N staring back at you.

You couldn't help thinking about what it would be like to see everyone again after what happened in Chicago, Was it going to be as fun as things used to be at after-show parties? Would everything be more intimate like late nights making music in the house in Laurel Canyon? Or would you go back to that moment of comfort and calm that rehearsals in Chuck's garage provided?

As you arrived at Billy's house, you saw that the backyard had been transformed into a lively gathering. The scent of grilled burgers and hot dogs wafted through the air, mixed with the sounds of laughter and chatter.

As you approach the house, you can hear the sound of music drifting from the backyard, soon you recognize 'Regret Me'. Stepping through the sliding glass door, you see a lively scene unfolding before you. Daisy is in the midst of a spirited conversation with Julia, Warren and Lisa were sitting on a patio set, chatting animatedly with Graham, catching up on old times. In the distance, you could see their two young daughters playing tag with Daisy's daughter, their high-pitched giggles filling the air.

Your eyes disobey you or on the contrary, obey your hidden desires, and search the place for Eddie Roundtree and when you manege to see him walking towards you your heart skips a beat, nervousness filling your chest.

Roundtree approaches you awkwardly, reviewing the words he had rehearsed so many times in his head imagining this reunion. But before he can get to you, Warren arrives excitedly hugging you on impulse.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, excited to see you again. "We missed you so much, never disappear like that again!"

"I promise not!" You say hugging him back, you notice Eddie closer to you and turn to him. "Hey Roundtree, long time no see..."

"Yeah, how are you L/N?" Her name sounded so good in his voice, like it used to."You look gorgeous."

"Thank you." You feel a shiver in your belly, having his gaze on you was as powerful as ever. "You're not so bad yourself."

You all move to a table near the pool, Lisa was there when she sees you, she gets up to greet you with a warm hug. As Warren and you catch up, you immediately fall into a comfortable conversation. You talk about everything from your favorite music to your upcoming plans. It's clear to everyone watching that you both have a deep connection.

Eddie can't help but feel jealous as he watches the two of you. He remembers when you used to talk to him like that, but those days are long gone and he missed it like crazy. His thoughts were on the memories that remain you, he remembered the nights you spent together talking about everything and nothing at the same time,he remembered how amazing it was to make you laugh at his joke, he wanted to get that back with you but had no idea where to start and how to do it.

He decides to interrupt your conversation with Rojas, hoping to get your attention. "Hey, Y/N," he says, "Remember that time we went to that concert together, the one where you got lost and I spent the whole show trying to find you in the crowd?"

A smile opens on her face as she remembers the day he mentioned, "Of course I remember, certainly one of the best days of my life. I still can't believe we made it out of there alive," you reply, laughing."

As Eddie watches Warren and you talking and laughing together, he can't help but feel a pang of jealousy and longing in his chest. He remembers the times when it used to be him making you laugh, the way you looked at him with those bright, beautiful eyes that made his heart skip a beat. He remembers the feeling of your warmth next to him, the way your hand fit perfectly in his, and the sound of your voice in his ear as your talked about everything and anything.

But those memories are distant now, and he can't help but feel like he's lost something special. He watches as Warren effortlessly makes you laugh, and he can't help but compare himself to the drummer. Warren has everything he doesn't - a stable family, a successful career, and now, a closeness with you that Eddie can only dream of having again.

As Eddie sits there, lost in his thoughts, he can't help but see parallels between the past and the present. The way you laugh at Warren's jokes is so similar to the way you used to laugh at his, and the way you interact reminds him of the way he and you used to do so. It's like looking into a mirror and seeing what he's lost, what was so distant now.

Just then, Eddie decides he needs to get away. He tells everyone he's going to get a drink and leaves the table, his frustration and longing weighing heavily on him. As he makes his way to the fridge, he can't help but replay the memories of you two in his mind, wishing he could go back in time and make things different.

He listens to the side conversation which was just a rumbling noise that wasn't enough to silence his saboteur thoughts. He stares several times at the fridge in front of him, staring at the drinks without knowing how to get out of the situation or at least get away from this feeling that was growing in him.

Lisa noticed Roundtree far from the group and when he left to get a drink she became concerned about the whole situation, and decided to go talk to him. She approaches him and touches his shoulder, making him turn to the actress.

"Everything alright?" She asks, a smile on her face mixed with her concerned features. "You seemed airy back there." She points out.

"I'm sorry to ask but, doesn't it bother you?" He nods discreetly to the scene of Warren and you talking.

Lisa turns to look at what he's pointing at, arching her eyebrows as she turns back to the bassist. "What, Warren and Y/N?"

Eddie just nods, a little embarrassed at his question. Lisa takes a drink and opens it, handing it to Eddie she leans on the bar next to them and takes a sip of hers. "Warren and Y/N have grown closer over the last few years and I've grown closer to her too, she's like a sister to our family. I'm used to it, maybe at first I was a little jealous but I know my husband is crazy about me." She chuckles, making Eddie opening a shy smile.

He thinks about what to say, but stays quiet, still analyzing his thoughts. "But why the question?" Lisa asks, wanting to understand why the man is uncomfortable.

Eddie takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express his thoughts. "It's just... seeing them together, it reminds me of what I lost," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lisa nods understandingly. "You mean your relationship with Y/N?"

Eddie nods in response, taking a sip of the drink Lisa had given him. "I just... I don't know how to talk to her. Things ended so badly between us and I don't want to make things worse, but I also don't want it to end it up like that."

Lisa puts a comforting hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Have you tried reaching out to her? Maybe talking things through could help you both, I'm sure she would be happy to talk to you."

Eddie shakes his head. "I'm not that sure, She was really disappointed that day... I don't know if she'd want to talk to me about it."

Lisa takes another sip of her drink and looks at Eddie with a serious expression. "Look, I know that Y/N and you have some unresolved issues, and that's why you're feeling uneasy. But you know what I've learned over the years? Love is a tricky thing, and sometimes you have to take a leap of faith if you want to make it work."

Eddie nods slowly, taking in her words.

"I remember when Warren and I first started dating, I was so afraid to let my guard down and really let myself fall in love. But then I realized that if I didn't take a chance, I might miss out on something really special. And I'm so glad I did, because we have a beautiful life together."

She pauses for a moment, looking off into the distance. "And I know that Y/N is worth taking a risk for. If you think there's still something there between you two, then you owe it to yourself to at least try and talk to her. Who knows? Maybe it could be the start of something great."

Eddie looks at her, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. He takes a deep breath and nods. "You're good at giving advice huh." He says with a slight smile.

"I try, have one with me and use the courage of alcohol to talk to her." She says holding out her bottle for him to toast, he does, clinking his bottle against hers.

As they take a sip, Eddie feels a sense of calm wash over him. He knows what he needs to do, and he's grateful for Lisa's words of encouragement.

"Thanks, Lisa. I appreciate it," he says, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Anytime," she replies with a warm smile. "Now go talk to Y/N. I have a feeling she's been waiting for this conversation for a long time."

Eddie nods, taking one last swig of his drink before setting it down on the bar. He takes a deep breath and turns to make his way over to you, ready to finally have that long overdue conversation.

You notice Lisa and Eddie talking before Lisa returns to Rojas, snuggling into his embrace. Rojas smiles and wraps his arms around his wife's waist, kissing her forehead before she whispers something in his ear. You catch a glimpse of Warren smirking and licking his lips before he stands up.

"I'll be right back, kids," he says with a chuckle.

Lisa guides Rojas to a more secluded spot and whispers to him, "Go for it," nodding in your direction. You don't notice, but Roundtree does, and he looks over at you with a small smile, he takes a deep breath before sitting down next to you.

Feeling his heart beating fast in his chest. He clears his throat before speaking. "So you and Warren, pretty good friends huh?" he asks, trying to keep his tone casual.

You raise your eyebrows and chuckles. "If I didn't know you so well I'd say you're jealous, Eddie Roundtree." You say, teasing him.

Eddie can't help but smile at your words. "Jealousy is a very strong word, maybe, but just maybe it bothered me a little bit," he admits, looking at you with a look that longed to see your reaction and he feels the butterflies in his stomach dance when he hears you laugh at what he said.

You look at Eddie, a smile playing on your lips. "Well, if you're bothered, you can just say so." You says, teasing him a bit.

Eddie smiles back, feeling a bit more relaxed. "I guess I am a little jealous." He admits, looking at you. "I mean, we used to be close like that, you and me."

You nod, understanding where he's coming from. "Yeah, we were. But things change, Eddie."

"I know. And I'm not trying to say that you shouldn't be friends with Warren or anything like that. It's just..." He trails off, not really sure how to put his feelings into words.

"Just what?" You prompt him, your eyes fixed on his.

"Just that...I miss you, gorgeous." Eddie says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn't know what to answer, so you just stared at him letting him speak. "I know that day you expected more from me, and I know everything got really messed up between us but I feel like there's so much we haven't talked about..." Eddie said quickly, and you noticing the anxiety building in him take one of your hands, conveying comfort.

He looks at your hand next to his and smiles, stroking your fingers and then continues. "I missed you every day since that day, I decided not to look for you because you didn't seem to want me around. I confess, I wasn't ready to see that disappointment look on your face again."

You take a deep breath and look at Eddie, the guilt weighing heavily on your heart. "Eddie, Don't put all the blame on yourself" you say, pausing for a moment to collect your thoughts. "I know that I played a part in everything that happened between us. It wasn't just you, it was me too."

Eddie looks at you, concern etched on his face waiting for you to continue.

"That day, I was so focused on my own insecurities and fears that I couldn't see past them," you say, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I didn't see that you were hurting too, that you were struggling just as much as I was."

Eddie's hand tightens around yours, and you squeeze back, grateful for the support. "I felt so insufficient, like I wasn't enough for you to want to stay and follow our dream," you continue, your voice shaking slightly. "And I took that out on you. I know now that it was wrong, and I'm so sorry for hurting you as well."

Eddie looks at you, a mixture of emotions on his face. "Y/N, don't say that. You were more than enough, you were my partner, my muse, my reason for living. But I can see why you felt that way, and I'm sorry for not making it all clear."

"It's okay..." you smile, resting your head on his shoulder, he smiles at the contact and you remain silent for a few seconds.

Eddie notices a guitar leaning in a farther corner, he excuses you and goes towards it soon returning with it. You watch him carefully, he starts strumming the instrument and it doesn't take long to recognize the melody.

"Do you remember this one we wrote together?" It keeps playing, humming the melody you created. "Our vacation after we had shot Aurora, the summer we spent in Malibu, just you and me?"

Y/N's eyes light up, "Of course I do. 'Lost in the Sun,' right?"

"I remember it like it was yesterday." He says laughing, and you watched him feeling that butterflies in your stomach that only he knew how to cause. "I woke up without you in bed, I looked for you all over the house and you were on the beach with the guitar in your hand, I sat by your side and listened to what you had composed so far."

"I honestly thought it was awful." You laugh, shyly remembering the occasion.

"It was the first time I heard you sing alone." He says and you are surprised by this information. "You asked me to help you complete the song but I stopped you..."

"That's when you told me you loved me for the first time." Involuntarily some tears appeared in your eye, you were sensitive remembering everything. "We didn't quite finish the song though, did we?" You ask, trying to remember exactly what happened that day.

Eddie grins at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh right, I remember now. We got a little distracted, didn't we?"

You roll your eyes playfully, a smirk on your lips. "A little? We totally forgot about the song!"

He chuckles, leaning in closer to you. "Hey, I think we were both pretty busy with other things," he says, his voice low and suggestive.

You giggle, swatting his arm lightly. "We were young and in love, what can I say?"

"That's exactly what I've been missing, you know?" He says smiling and you tighten your grip on his hand. "I've never felt so connected with someone as I did and feel with you."

"Eddie..." You didn't know exactly what to say to him, or what he wanted by saying that to you.

"You don't have to make any commitments to me." He assures you and involuntarily you ease up a little. "I know time has passed and well, things change. But promise me that at least this song we'll finish, please."

"I'd love to finish this with you Roundtree." You answer and he gets a bigger smile on his face.

You get up when you hear Daisy calling you from afar to talk to her and Graham, you say goodbye to Eddie and say you'll be right back but before leaving you turn to him again. "Our connection is unique, only you and I can reproduce. And I sure as hell won't let it die in Chicago." You say before heading towards the redhead

Eddie can't contain his smile, the feeling of anticipation rising inside him. He could feel all that Chicago had taken from him finally being released, as if now after so many years he had the chance to access all the "what ifs" he had created, he knew he couldn't screw things up now and he would do anything to make sure you never regretted the two of you.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out?

REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

[sakuraharuno156]

Hi! So while normally I don't indulge in anti... I can't help it, it's fun XD People are so sensitive about some things, but anyway... I'm on board with you since I realized later in life that yeah, Sakura is absolutely brilliant and Hinata is... SO not. I can't say I enjoy her character one bit anymore after she's done nothing but disappoint me. BUT! What I wanted to let you know was something else that kinda pisses me off.

Now we know that it's obvious that Studio Bones and the animators have this insane and somewhat misogynistic favoritism towards Hinata (because's quiet, submissive and kind), given how much to flanderize Sakura's temper to make her look like that's all she is.

Well I think even whoever made the video games favor Hinata too. I used to play this old-ass game called Naruto: Ultimate Ninja 2. Very old lol but there were some joke/unique versions of characters.

Example: "Sealed Orochimaru" in reference to how he couldn't use any jutsu thanks to 3rd Hokage's Seal. And "Nine Tailed Naruto" with Naruto as the Nine Tailed Fox.

And then there's "Byakugan Hinata" I'm not kidding you, they have this... badass version of Hinata who is a competent fighter, has a strong disposition and seems to actually care about her status as a Hyuga. Even though in canon there hasn't been a single moment where Hinata's shown to be competent in fighting (she hasn't won a single battle in combat), strong (any bold moment was just so she could look cool in front of Naruto) or given a damn about her clan or her status given that she spends every moment on panels or screen gushing and thinking about Naruto.

Now here I am thinking... how pathetic is that?

That the creators of this game made up such a farfetched and dare I say fanfic-ed version of Hinata that you can find in any badly written fiction where Hinata is suddenly a badass when she's shown repeatedly in canon that she is NOT.

Hinata is no badass. She just isn't. I thought she had potential once upon a time, and then the fillers (which aren't canon) go out of their way to make her look badass when in canon, she isn't.

So it's not just the anime, the games were guilty of this too.

Okay I'm so sorry this got long lol, but I just thought it'd be neat to tell you this because it's a game many have forgotten because it IS pretty old lol. But... looking back on it, it disappoints me.

Sakura is the true badass female of Naruto. That's a fact.

Hey, there is nothing wrong with being an anti, as long as you are anti-fictional character and not anti-real preson, then you are good! 💕

So let me welcome you to the datk side, and let's go.

(BTW we clarified that it was supposed to say "studio pierrot", a mix-up, it happens ❤️)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

100% true and the worst part is that they don't see they do her an injustice.

Like studio pierrot made Hinata a healer:

But when it mattered she couldn't do anything, because she can't heal, so she looks just stupid.

Neji is dying? Better let him die. People are dying all around during war? Better not heal them because why would she? 🤷‍♀️

Or

They made her meet Naruto when they were children in The Last:

But then Naruto at 12yo calls her a "weirdo" or in that translation "a freak who won'teven look me in the eye"?

They make it seem like "she was always there for Naruto", but when Naruto is thinking about his first bonds she's nowhere to be found?

And I tried to like Hinata too, I even talked about it here, so i understand, but she's such an awfull character to be shown to younger audience that it's painful.

She's selfish and rude, her whole life revolves around a boy, her whole ambition is to be with Naruto and to cook and clean for him.

And now to the games, I had to Google it, because I haven't played it, but:

This is another injustice towards her, because it hypes her character out to be strong and hype her potential just to leave her weak and without accomplishing a thing.

And don't get me wrong, I know that games are supposed to allow the player to decide who wins and who loses based on players skills, but...

That game came out in 2004, by then the manga was at the end of OG Naruto, so looking at how the games are trying to portray her, we (as viewers or players) can assume that she will be strong someday, and yet she never was.

We were led to believe that her father will see her as strong and with "great potential", but Hanabi is still the one that will be the head of Hyuga clan, and Neji was the one who is the strongest (and we know it, it was stated).

"Surpassing the main branch" and "For the brilliant blood of the Hyuga to be flowing within a child who cannot become an heir what natural talent".

And then, Hiashi that had pure hatred (or at least the thought about them as a less than/slaves to main family) towards the branch PREFERRED TO TRAIN NEJI AND HINATA WAS THERE TO BRING THE TEA.

It's pure embarrassment. 🤷‍♀️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's an injustice to her character and I'M THE ONE WHO IS SAYING THIS, WHEN I HATE HER GUTS 🤷‍♀️

[fairytaleriots]

Makings of a Crew

"Is every day gonna be this crazy with you?"

Maybe these people are exactly what Zoro needed

(opla fanfic, ao3 link)

It could not be said that Zoro's life was boring. He never lacked a fight and the problems usually found him before he had to put any effort into finding them. No pirate worth the bounty was all that subtle. So maybe that's why he didn't notice at first. When Luffy crashed into his life, bringing freedom and the chance to kick Axe-Hand Morgan’s ass, it was just another fight to be won. And after that? Well, they were running from the marines, so it just made sense to get on the ship and he could hardly leave from there and the one day just kept happening after the other. But Luffy was bouncing from one adventure to the next, an unstoppable force on his path to the Grand Line and for the first time in a while Zoro noticed that he had been bored. Or not bored. Stuck, maybe. Maybe knowing your goal alone wasn't enough, maybe sometimes you had to stand on a table and declare it to the world, no matter the consequences. He had lacked the momentum and the direction needed to move forward. His captain had given him that at least.

~

There was an easy camaraderie to be found in Usopp that was unfamiliar to him. Within five minutes of meeting he and Luffy had become the best of friend and Zoro and Nami were left to stand there and marvel, before being swept up. Usopp simply welcomed them in, introduced them to Kaya and tried to help them get a ship, as if that's simply what you did for people. There was something bizarre, something mundane in a way that Zoro hadn't known in a while, about being included in conversations about whether or not Kaya liked liked Usopp. About how any of his lack of engagement was easily smoothed over with jokes and stories and about how easy it was to play along, to hype Usopp up and complete the and only make fun of him a little bit for it. His friendship with Kuina had been so different from this, carefully built on understanding the other, on respect and ambition, expressed through childhood vows and teasing. This was new, watching Luffy and Usopp's goof around on deck. Something new and worth protecting.

~

Falling into a rhythm with the damn waiter was so easy, Zoro almost resented it. Sanji was, by all accounts, an idiot. Weird about women, almost to eager o be helpful, yet always ready to be a bastard and surprisingly willing to join Luffy and Usopp in their shenanigans. But there was something so familiar about fighting at his side. About how he gave as good as he got, about how fun it was to throw insults at him and seeing his own delight reflected back. He might be someone Zoro could trust with his back.

~

Maybe it was Zoro's mistake to assume that he and Nami were on the same side. From the beginning there was a solidarity between them, in having to deal with Luffy being Luffy, throwing each other exasperated looks at the worlds bullshit around them. He had assumed an understanding, a similarity between them. Doing what has to be done but waiting to be freed without knowing it. Stuck like him. And maybe that part had been correct. But Zoro had always known himself, had been steady in his path. He had assumed that in her as well. In the end only Luffy had seen how wrong that was, simply by not assuming anything at all. And Nami turned to them for help. Trusted them enough to have her back. You are part of this crew, Zoro wanted to say and was glad that Luffy did it for him. And I will protect this crew with everything I have. I will not fail Luffy and I will not fail any of you ever again.

That's what I can give you.

[magicalmysteries777]

The Bloody-Handed and The Anguish of Loving Them - Chapter 4.

Summary: Almost a year has passed since Eddie Munson died and it feels like the only person that isn't moving on is Steve.

After spending the night studying a Dungeons and Dragons handbook, Steve is convinced he's figured out how to bring Eddie back. Not only that, but defeat Vecna once and for all too. Now he just has to prove it.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Vampire Eddie Munson

Masterlist: Here.

Chapter: 4 of 10.

Chapter WC: 3937.

CW: Descriptions of violence, blood.

This story can also be found on AO3 here.

Taglist: @ohmeg 🖤

March 24th, 1987.

It was like something straight out of one of the horror movies that Robin would force him to watch at work to pass the time. The type of scream that makes you feel like your whole world is standing still, everything happening around you suddenly in slow motion. At least that’s what it was like for Steve as he turned to face whatever Nancy had screamed at, only to find himself looking at the reanimated corpse of none other than Barbara Holland.

The Upside Down had not been kind to Barb. Her once-fair skin was now waxy and discoloured by dark, purple veins covering every inch of her skin. Numerous cuts and sores on her body were oozing a thick, black substance, illuminated slightly by the flickering torchlight as she moved closer toward the group. Her eyes were dark and sunken, locked on Nancy.

“Why did you leave me, Nance?” she asked, her rotting body inching closer still. “Wasn’t I a good enough friend? I tried to warn you but you didn’t listen to me.”

“I didn’t mean to, I swear,” sobbed Nancy.

“It’s not really Barb, Nance,” Jonathan tried reasoning with her.

“Why didn’t you listen to me? I tried so hard and you just left me there. You left me there, alone, and then that thing took me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I didn’t mean t-”

“I died, Nancy, and it’s all your fault. Too busy with ‘King Steve’ to worry about me.”

“Jonathan, when I say so, get everyone out of here,” Steve demanded in an instant, his eyes locked on Barb, ready to intercept any sudden movements.

“I’m staying with you,” Dustin declared, grabbing his weapon in preparation to fight.

“I don’t think so, kid, get out of here,” Steve answered firmly, adjusting his stance.

“But-”

“Now, Jonathan,” Steve shouted, lunging towards Barb and dragging her down to the ground.

The sound of shuffling footsteps and protests from the group echoed around the cave whilst Steve fought to keep Barb on the floor. He was inches from her now, face to face. She grinned up at him wickedly, taunting him. Only when he was sure everyone else had vacated the cave did Steve release his grip on Barb, darting to the exit and blocking it. He wasn’t trapped with Barb, Barb was trapped with him.

“Poor little Steve,” Barb began in an excruciatingly calm manner as she rose to face him again. “Just can’t seem to get anything right, can you? You try and try but you always fail.”

“Shut up.”

“You know I’m right. Look at you; infamous ‘King Steve’. What do you have to show for yourself? Friends that barely trust you, a drinking problem, no job, no girlfriend - you lost her to Jonathan, of all people. Come on, Stevie, where’s all that wit you used to have? All that confidence you’d swagger down the hallway with?”

“I-” Steve stammered.

“Bat got your tongue?” she cackled. “Your own parents don’t even want you, do they? They ran away to the Beach house without you and just send you a cheque every couple of months so they don’t have to deal with you any more.”

Barb inched closer and began to speak again, the voice coming from her lips no longer her own. It twisted and distorted until it settled into the familiar tone of Steve’s father.

“You’re pathetic, Steve. No job, no friends - just drinking your life away, locked in your bedroom crying all the god damn time. You were always the same. No drive, no ambition. You’re an embarrassment. The only thing you’re good at is being a punching bag.”

“Fuck you!” Steve spat, swinging his bat as hard as he could at Barb’s head.

She swayed slightly, her legs faltering as more thick, black liquid began to ooze from the nail holes. Eyes and smile growing wilder, the voice distorted again as she began to speak. Low and tainted with cruelty, almost like a growl.

“Do you really think you can kill me, Steve? The odds are against you. All of you. They always have been.”

“Not this time,” Steve cried out as he lunged towards her, dropping the bat whilst he did so. With as much force as he could gather, he swung his fist straight at Barb’s face.

The decaying body, still weak from its earlier blow with the bat, landed on the floor in a heap. Steve rolled Barb onto her back, the anger intensifying inside of him as he struck his fist at her again and again until her corpse went still once more.

Covered in sweat and the thick goo spilling from the multiple wounds he had inflicted on Barbara, he slowly rose to his feet. It was a few seconds before Steve’s breath steadied, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

“You can’t protect them,” the mangled corpse whispered feebly.

“I can and I will.”

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job right now, are you?”

Steve glanced over his shoulder as the cries and screams from his friends on the surface suddenly filled the room, echoing off the walls, as though he had been trapped inside of a bubble that had just popped.

Steve grabbed his bat from the ground and set off in a sprint, weaving his way through the winding hallway back to his friends. The nearer he approached, the clearer the screams were getting.

“Jonathan, behind you!”

“Get off me you little fucker!”

“El, do something!”

“I’m trying.”

“There’s too many!”

Steve emerged from the cave with his bat raised high, ready to strike. His eyes locked straight on Dustin, desperately trying to fend off a demobat that was clawing viscously at his skin. He darted forward, grabbing the bat by the tail and swinging it down to the ground before he plunged the nails on the tip of his baseball bat straight through it. The deafening screech it let out was soon cut off by something far more horrifying.

“Harrington.”

He craned his neck so quickly that getting whiplash was a real possibility.

“Is that…?” Dustin asked, nervous.

“Yup. Hargrove.”

Steve glanced around quickly at his friends, his long-range vision obscured slightly by the sweat dripping into his eyes. El was fending off the majority of them with her powers, defended by Mike and Will. Nancy and Jonathan were huddled together taking on the latest swarm of bats. Robin, Lucas, and Erica were lost in the chaos. A sense of overwhelming dread washed over Steve as his attention turned back to Billy.

Billy smiled manically as he charged towards them, his eyes black and his rotting skin covered in dark veins, just like Barb. Steve readied his bat, bracing himself for whatever was to come. He swung as soon as Billy was in arms reach but felt no connection. What he did feel was Billy’s fist landing straight on his cheek, a searing hot pain spreading through his face, and his ass hitting the floor.

His hand shot to nurse his cheek, his head throbbing and woozy. He opened his eyes and saw Robin jabbing at the bats with her spear, Heather lurking in the trees behind her.“ Robin, look out!” he cried as loud as he could.

He watched as Robin narrowly avoided being ambushed before Billy’s foot in his side forced his eyes closed as the pain spread through him.

The screeching and screaming seemed to get louder when Steve’s eyes were closed. Perhaps it was his senses overcompensating. Perhaps they were louder.

He heard Erica shouting obscenities, Nancy and Jonathan shouting directions between them, El yelling as she strained her powers, and Dustin, he was shouting too.

He forced his eyes open and found Dustin attempting to drag Billy away from him. Billy fought himself free of his weak grasp and turned on him. Dustin was on the floor in seconds, screaming and writhing in pain as Billy repeatedly kicked him. In that moment, Steve saw red.

He grabbed his bat and heaved himself off the floor, swinging straight for Billy. Billy swayed slightly upon impact, his knees buckling momentarily. Steve pushed with as much force as he could muster and tackled him onto the ground, away from Dustin.

Billy fought back, violently.

Steve couldn’t keep track of which parts of him hurt any more, everything blending into one gigantic, throbbing ache across his entire body. Blood and sweat dripped down his face as he loomed over Billy, landing punch after punch on his smug face. In a matter of seconds, the roles were reversed. A loud crunch indicated something was broken on the fifth hit that Billy landed. His vision blurred as blood began to pour from his nose, leaving a copper taste in his mouth. Billy hit again and again, knocking a tooth loose, and then he stopped.

Steve didn’t see it happen, his eyes forced closed by the blinding hot pain radiating from his broken nose, but a crack loud enough to make his ears ring, a gush of cold wind left behind by the swing of the bat, and the weight on top of him drooping off to the side all indicated someone had taken Billy out.

“You okay? We’ve got to get you up,” Lucas urged, already trying to pry Steve off the ground.

Steve spat out his tooth along with a mouthful of blood and got to his feet as quick as he could, his face scrunching up in pain as he tried to straighten his back. Lucas was back by Erica’s side fighting off a Demogorgon before Steve could finish muttering his thanks.

He began fighting his way through another swarm of demobats, each one letting out a deafening screech whilst they met their end at his hand. Robin’s screams were getting louder and more panicked, but there were still too many bats in the way - he couldn’t get to her.

The bats flew closer, circling him. He could barely see three feet in front of him, blindly swinging his weapon at the increasing swarm of flapping wings in his face. Nancy was the next to let out another blood curdling scream.

Steve fumbled backwards, almost tripping over his own feet as he tried, and failed, to navigate his way back to his friends side.

It was as though his senses were scrambled. No idea which way was left or right. No idea where his friends were. No idea if they were hurt, or worse. He couldn’t even tell who’s scream belonged to who any more over the sound of hundreds of flapping wings around him.

As though they could sense Steve’s growing state of confusion, the bats intensified their attack.

A tail wrapped around his throat, squeezing and coiling like a snake with a mouse. He clawed at the bat, desperately trying to free himself of its grip as his chest began to tighten. Steve dropped to his knees and the rest of the swarm dispersed in search of other targets, allowing him to finally lay sights on his friends for the first time in what felt like hours.

His throat burned more intensely with each unsuccessful breath, managing only coughs and splutters whilst he watched his friends fight so valiantly for their lives.

Steve was no stranger to the current predicament he’d found himself in; he knew what was going to happen if he didn’t find himself free of the bats clutches soon.

His hearing would go first, then his vision, then he’d pass out and then - well, a forever of nothingness, he expected. Nancy had rescued him before it had gotten to that point.

He coughed again, trying desperately for just one tiny breath to give him some strength, but the bats grip was too strong. It was going to kill him. The screams around him were getting quiet, drowned out by the sound of his rapid heartbeat thumping in his ears. He had to do something. Anything.

Steve reached out, grabbed a small rock off the floor and threw it at the closest person. El turned, her eyes widening at the sight of him. She raised her hand and pointed it in his direction, letting out a loud cry as she focused her energy.

All he felt was a large gust of wind and a momentary sense of calm before his body hit the ground, fading in and out of conscious.

-

“Steve? Steve?! Are you alive?” asked a frantic Dustin, tapping at the side of Steve’s face in an attempt to bring him round.

Steve let out a groan in response, blindly waving his arm to fight off the painful jabs. “Yes I’m alive, can you stop hitting me?”

He lifted his head and opened his eyes slowly, a headache from hell already starting to creep in. A quick headcount revealed everyone was still alive, allowing his head to fall back again in relief.

“What the fuck happened back there?”

“I have no idea, they came out of nowhere.”

“It was an ambush.”

“We almost died.”

“Where did they even come from?”

“The trees, I think.”

“Hey, does this cut look funny to you?”

“That’s the least of our worries right now, Robin.”

“Rabies are a real possibility.”

“Did you you see me knock Billy out?”

Billy. Steve shot up, wincing as he did so, and looked around.

“Hey, not so fast. What are you looking for?”

“Where’s Billy?!” Steve asked, panic in his voice again.

“Calm down, man. He’s dead. Blasted off into the trees thanks to El,” Mike answered idly, wiping at a cut on El’s forehead.

“He’s not dead, you idiot.”

“What?”

“He’s not dead, he’s undead.”

“Wha-”

“Fuck. We’ve got to go. Now,” Mike declared, scrambling to his feet.

Steve stood as quickly as his sore, aching limbs would let him and tiptoed towards a clearing in the trees, the rest of the group following behind him.

“Would somebody please explain what’s going on?” Nancy asked in a hushed tone. Steve spun around on the spot to face her.

“Undead. Thrall. Minions. Servants. Whatever you want to call them. Brought back and inhabited to serve a purpose. That’s what Billy and Barb are, Nance. They go down and they get back up, over and over again, which means-”

“which means you can’t win. Isn’t that right, Harrington?” Billy finished with a taunt as he staggered towards them.

He wasn’t alone. One by one, more of the undead emerged from the trees, grouping with Billy. Heather, Barb, Mrs Driscoll, Chrissy, Jason, Fred, Patrick and many of the others that had fallen at Vecna’s hand over the years.

The group backed up instinctively, huddled together.

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do we do?!”

“The scroll,” Dustin declared, snapping his fingers at Mike. “Backpack. Give me the backpack.”

Dustin pulled the two scrolls they had taken from the cave and opened them, quickly scanning each one as as the rest of the group watched in horror as the undead army crept closer.

“Hurry up!” Steve snapped.

“Here, this one,” Dustin instructed as he thrust the scroll into Wills hands.

“You’re really serious about this? I-”

“No time to argue,” Steve told Will, manoeuvring him to the front of the group. “Spell first, spiral later.”

Will adjusted his stance and raised his arm, taking some inspiration from El, before closing his eyes. A small orb of neon yellow light appeared in front of Wills hand, floating in the air.

“Acido.”

Acid erupted from the orb, spurting forwards and covering the undead. They screeched as the acid began to bubble through their rotting skin, flesh and goo oozing to the floor in piles.

“Run!” Steve instructed, setting off as fast as he could manage in the opposite direction.

-

Steve didn’t stop. No quick stops to catch his breath. No turning around to check they weren’t being followed. He just kept running. They all did. Weaving their way between trees and dodging vines, clambering overs rocks and fallen trees. Only when they found themselves staring at the “Forest Hills Trailer Park” sign did they eventually fall still.

Steve winced as he wiped the sweat from his brow. The adrenaline was beginning to ware off, allowing him to start feeling the true extent of his injuries. Saying that everything hurt would have been an understatement - it felt like his whole body was on fire.

His nose was broken, that he was certain of, but he suspected a couple of ribs might be too. He ran his tongue along his teeth to double check he’d only lost the one - he had. The rest of his injuries were just cuts and bruises, most of which Steve was sure would look a lot better after a good shower and some antiseptic.

The rest of the party didn’t look much better; they too were covered in sweat, blood, cuts, and bruises.

“Reckon it’ll scar?” Lucas asked, shoving his bleeding arm into Dustin’s line of sight.

“Yeah. What about mine?” Dustin answered, gesturing to a bite mark on his arm.

“Yours is so much cooler than mine.”

“Neither of them beat the one on my leg from last year,” El teased.

“Too right,” Mike agreed, clutching at a stitch in his side.

“Did we establish whether or not Demobats carry Rabies?” Robin asked no one in particular as she stared down at a deep cut on her hand, panicked.

“No rabies, Rob. You’re okay, deep breaths,” answered Jonathan, his attention still on Nancy while he gave her a thorough check over. He’d gotten quite good at Steve’s job in his absence.

“Guys,” Erica spoke quietly.

“Are you sure? I don’t like the look of this,” Robin grimaced.

“I’m sure.”

“Guys,” she repeated.

Conversations quickly ceased, everyone turning to face a clammy, ashen-faced Erica.

“I don’t feel so good,” she told them, lifting her bloodied hand to reveal a large chunk of flesh missing from her upper thigh.

“Oh, shit, mom’s gonna kill me if you die,” Lucas muttered whilst he took a closer look at Erica’s leg.

“I’m not gonna die, moron,” she retorted, her voice faltering.

Nancy pulled a small first aid kit out of her backpack and bent down to inspect Erica’s leg, patting at it gently with some gauze. Steve’s eyes widened as a phrase from a book briefly passed through his thoughts. ‘Lesser Restoration.’

“Spell slots,” he announced, spinning Mike around on the spot and reaching in to his backpack, producing the familiar textbook they’d all been studying from less than twenty-four hours earlier.

Steve flicked through the pages quickly, eyes scanning the pages frantically before he found what he was looking for and shoved the book under Nancy’s nose.

“What do you expect me to do with that, Steve?” Nancy asked, still dabbing at Erica’s leg.

“Read.”

Nancy peered at the book, rolled her eyes, and repeated aloud the phrase that Steve was pointing at. “Te absolvo.”

A glowing, golden orb of light appeared in the space in-between Erica’s leg and Nancy’s hand, shone for a couple of seconds, and quickly faded.

The colour quickly seeped back into Erica’s face.

“What the hell?” Nancy asked.

“Steve, you’re a god damn genius,” Dustin beamed. “Nancy, remember when you used to babysit us and we forced you to play D&D with us? We made you a Cleric so you could just follow us around and heal us up.”

“Lesser restoration,” Mike and Lucas announced, both putting the puzzle pieces together at the same time.

“Nancy just healed Erica’s bloodlessness.”

“When did Harrington get so smart?” Erica asked with a smirk, adjusting her leg so that Nancy could finish tying the bandage.

“Its amazing what can happen when you pick up a book,” Steve answered. “Anybody else dying before we go do some reviving?”

-

It was a harrowing experience, staring down at the make shift headstone he’d help place on Eddie’s grave.

Dustin had made the stone. He’d sat just outside the trailer, almost a whole year ago, tears streaming down his face as he etched ‘R.I.P’ into a large, flat rock he’d found. Steve had carried it over to the burial site and wedged it in place; Dustin’s leg was too busted to carry anything other than his own weight. Steve had placed an arm around Dustin’s shoulder as they paid their final respects, pulling him into his chest as he cried, in the hopes that Steve’s tears would remain a secret.

“You ready?” Dustin asked, creeping up beside him with a shovel in his hand.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Despite have two shovels, it took a surprisingly long time to dig the hole. The kids (except for Erica, who was ordered to rest by Nancy) took it in turns at first, each lasting about ten minutes before moaning they were tired and handing the shovel off to the next person. Steve wasn’t at all surprised, knowing damn well that they spend every moment of free time huddled around Mikes table playing D&D instead of going outside and doing things that would build stamina.

Steve and Jonathan did the rest of the digging while the party idly discussed their theories surrounding the fight they’d just narrowly escaped from. After an hour, Jonathan stuck his shovel in the dirt and wiped his brow before turning to Steve.

“You’re sure this is where he’s buried?” he asked.

“I buried him myself, of course I’m sure.”

“How far down did you go? We must be seven feet deep by now.”

“It can’t be much further.”

They dug for another half an hour before Steve finally caved and climbed back out of the hole, sat next to Robin and took a much needed drink from his water bottle.

“What’s taking so long?” Dustin asked.

“He’s not in there, kid.”

“Of course he is, we’re the ones who put him there.”

“I’m telling you, he’s not in there.”

“You must be digging in the wrong place.”

“I’m not.”

“You have to be,” Dustin snapped, his voice cracking. Steve looked up and was met with a teary gaze.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Come on, you can double check.”

Steve lead Dustin to the edge of the freshly dug hole and waited for him to speak, swaying impatiently on the backs on his heels. The rest of the party made their way over in dribs and drabs and stared absently into the emptiness.

“I don’t understand,” Dustin sniffled.

“How has he just vanished? Bodies don’t decompose that quickly,” Will asked.

“Decomposition could be quicker here, you saw how fast the plants rotted over at Merrill’s,” Nancy suggested.

“Are you sure this is the right spot?” El asked.

“One hundred percent,” Dustin answered.

Steve stayed silent as the others discussed amongst themselves, his eyes fixed on the empty hole in front of him as he got lost in his thoughts.

How the hell was he supposed to revive Eddie’s body without his body? He’d definitely buried him there, so where was he? If he couldn’t find the body then he’d-

It was subtle, the darkness shifting over them, but Steve’s defences were so high that it didn’t go unnoticed - neither did the temperature drop, or the creeping feeling that they were being watched. He took a couple of steps back, breath held, his eyes still fixed on the ground in front of them. Wings. Steve gulped before slowly turning to face whatever was casting the shadow.

He wasn’t sure what he’d being expecting, but it definitely wasn’t a head of dark, messy curls and a pair of red eyes staring down at him.

[mslanna]

Forever Is All Today

Epilogue of Be My Guest now up on AO3 Thank you all so very much for your support and encouragement, 🤗

Don't you ever tire of it? Wyll asked about Avernus. But the answer was no. If Tav woke up entangled in varying limbs of their devil every morning for the rest of their life, it wouldn't be one day too many.

Raphael's tail wrapped tightly around their ankle, arms and wings thrown over their body haphazardly – the devil doesn't sleep often. But when he does, it is a luxury without compare.

And Tav receives visitors in the House of Hope now. If any desire to come. But over time the uneasy tolerance whittles down. Astarion was the first, naturally. With no day and night in Avernus, he wasn't restricted by the time of day. Something he now doesn't have to worry about any longer.

Tav thinks of the thin line of chain links of pale silver on his pale skin. Testing that out had been adrenaline inducing. Setting their friend out into the sun, prepared for the worst with healing spells and potions. The utter exhilaration when nothing happened at all. The look of sheer joy on Astarion's face. That day they celebrated with all festivities the day had to offer.

His visits to Avernus became fewer, but never stopped. And Tav spent most of their days in Faerûn anyway. Travelling with an enthusiastic Astarion. Visiting Gale. The hustle when Duke Ravengard announced his retirement in favour of his son. And of course, the panicky wedding preparations because Karlach rather be damned than have a politically accurate, aristocratic wedding.

Now that had been a day to remember and a night to match. Raphael even agreed to make an appearance, however short. His presence did not cause a brawl. His congratulations were accepted. He danced with Tav and that memory burned brightly under their skin whenever a waltz played.

Life is good, even as Raphael prepares to conquer Stygia. The five hells he rules reluctantly accepted their fate, his ambition is far from sated. And Stygia is an easier target than the hub of infernal bureaucracy or judiciary.

Someday he will scheme and plan to overthrow Asmodeus himself. But Raphael is wary. He wants eight hells united behind him when that campaign starts. Tav made their peace with never seeing him as archdevil supreme. They have today and every day of their life.

Tav yearns for this moment to last forever. Free. Happy. Cherished by the one they love. Raphael's face is heavy on their chest, his horns snug against their face. The familiar scent of ash, iron, and horn balm is home. Tav sighs and runs their fingers through the devil's hair.

"You are sad." Raphael reads them like the cheap novel they are in his presence. "What for?"

"That this isn't forever." Tav closes their eyes to concentrate on every impression of their body.

The devil turns his head up and Tav feels his breath under their chin. "Says the one who argued ferociously about the true beauty being transient. We can pick up that battle any moment."

"I am transient," Tav chuckles. "I must die."

"Do you now?" Raphael props himself up and stares his human down with black eyes ringed with fire. "Do you really?"

Tav hears the promise in his words, the temptation. "After my soul again?" They raise a brow. "Forgot how that played out the last time?"

"Never." He leans down to kiss their lips gently. "But why not give it to me while you are here anyway?"

"Raph-" he stops them with another soft kiss, barely a touch of his lips to theirs.

"Hear me out."

Tav sighs, looking into eyes that hold their universe in their black holes. "Alright. For a kiss."

Raphael obliges and if the long, tender exploration of their mouth is to put Tav into a lenient mood, they let it slip. Tav drinks in the taste of him, luxuriating in the weight of his body and heaviness of his kiss.

When he pulls back, they cradle his head with both hands. "Let's hear it then."

"A deal." Raphael smiles and runs his index finger over Tav's lips. "You grant me your soul for as long as I love you."

Tav chuckles. "I will still die, love."

"Not if in return, I grant you life for as long as you love me."

Dumbfounded, Tav stares up at their double-dealing devil.

"No need to answer right away." Raphael leans down, his breath caressing their face. "Let me bring some more arguments to the table."

When his mouth touches against Tav's lips again, soft and yet demanding, they know that this isn't an argument they can win. But they can make the devil work for it. With a grin, Tav wraps their arms around him and pulls him close.

[imogenkol]

— DOUBLE UQUIZ

I was tagged @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton and @corvosattano thank you my beloveds 💕💕💕

Tagging: @chuckhansen @risingsh0t @marivenah @voidika @minaharkers @shegetsburned @indorilnerevarine @queennymeria @simonxriley @sstewyhosseini @aceghosts @jacobseed @jackiesarch @jinfromyarikawa @detectivelokis @florbelles @shellibisshe @unholymilf @roofgeese @adelaidedrubman @loriane-elmuerto + anyone else!

Which Type Of Protagonist Is Your OC?

How Is Your OC’s Soul Perceived?

reluctant chosen one

this is usually a teenager flung about by forces outside of their control, but it can also be anyone picked for a higher calling to a cause they don't believe in. your mission isn't just to complete the task at hand--it's about coming to your own conclusions, and finding the system is corrupt from the inside out. it's about returning the favor, and embracing righteous anger as a form of self-liberation. sure, you'll save the world. you'll also fuck up the people who made you do it.

the strong-willed

your soul has touched darkness and so you learned to wrap yourself within it. you felt fear and decided you would never let it control you again. you're not always all sharp edges and cool stares, but you refuse to be prey again. you turned your teeth into fangs so you would be the one to bite. you learned to growl louder than all the predators who stole your innocence. it may seem like you don't care, sometimes you try to pretend you don't, but i see the way you sharpen your knives when the ones you care about are hurting.

hot, sopping mess

oh my god what the hell happened to you. clearly something a little fucked up. you have been through trials and tribulations, but some kind of ball of fritzy emotions keeps you kicking. it's probably that raging, protective heart of yours. it's been broken so many times but still wants you to feel happy, somehow. you're loyal, and emotionally a mess, and a bit of a dumbass, but you know you're worth something. and you'll fight for that--and for those who stick with you--until the end.

the protecting nurturer

you have the heart that belongs to a warrior's mother. you ache for your loved ones and you'll fight to preserve their smiles. you take care of the people around you. you want them to feel safe and warm. you do anything to protect those around you, even if it's from themselves. you have an eye for the details no one else realizes they need. you're the one that makes a house a home. you make sure it's safe because you know what it was like to be afraid of the places that should have been comforting.

universe’s accident

you don't think you're special, but you really, really are. and yeah okay, maybe you weren't supposed to be here, but damn, we're glad you are. whatever prank the universe pulled, it was backfired beautifully. you're the type of protagonist whose flaws become their greatest assets. your boughts of bad luck eventually come back around as bonuses to you and what you protect as miraculous coincidences of earned convenience. always remember--there are no accidents.

the wonderlust heart

your soul longs for your adventure. sometimes you're filled with so many ambitions and dreams you think you might burst. you rush about in a frenzy, afraid to miss out on all the opportunities life has to offer. you see the world with all it's light and all its darkness and can't help but see something beautiful in every part. every star and every shadow. you say you're running towards your goals, but sometimes i think you're trying to escape the ugly things you couldn't paint over.

[neverlearnedtoread]

Midnight in Everwood

⭐⭐; reading this book is like letting a kid explain their drawing to you - 'this is the cotton candy castle with a prince and princess and their 29 dogs and cats', they say, pointing to a wobbly blue squiggle and a patch of snot. all you can do is smile and nod and let it happen

Oh?? 👌😉😏

the narration, while over the top, fit the atmosphere the book wanted to create (confectionary sugar world). its probably annoying to listen to as the descriptions dont let up but im good at skimming so i could swim my way through the syrup just fine

i liked the beginning, before the author's hand became too glaringly obvious to ignore later in the plot - while marietta was never entertaining as a main character to follow, she felt more 'real' in her home environment, more believable as a character. i liked her relationship with her brother

I'll say this: finishing this book made me want to rewatch Barbie in the Nutcracker, just to feel something. what a classic! unlike this book 😭

No.. ❌🤢🤮

oversaturated with metaphors and flowery language - enough synonyms, hoity-toity French vocabularié and verbiage to rot your teeth out. it's also an 'oh?? 👌😉😏' point because i do think the author did it on purpose to create a certain tone, but it's A LOT.

i get the distinct sense that the author understands on a surface level that her character is a privileged whiny baby, but doesn't have the writing prowess to make her compelling OR put her through her paces of a satisfying character arc.

#girlboss #modernfeminism #womenarejustasstrongasmen played completely straight. a main female character who stays entirely, pretentiously convinced of their own girlbossery the whole time, despite doing NOTHING to earn it, and an author who reshapes the story to meet those expectations. anything for her #slay #girlboss #queen!!!!!

stuff constantly gets introduced just to not add anything to the story - the mouse king equivalent has in his castle a captured FAIRY and WARRIOR PRINCESS as part of his menagerie of women marietta finds herself a part of, and we just leave it at that. the guard captain is revealed as part of a SECRET REBELLION and all that happens is marietta gets weirdly horny about it.

the romance develops at the most annoying moments - they even decide to fuck in the snow (their bare asses!! in the SNOW!!! and not even a hint of pneumonia to show for it 🥶) before marietta returns to her world. i expected her to be hornt up, but the guy?? my brother in butterscotch we have got to get you better standards in women

Summary: Marietta Stelle wants to dance but she's too damn privileged to be allowed to pursue it as a viable career - she needs to get married to some creepy old man for the sake of her family's ambition, damnit! As her last performance draws near, Marietta is pushed into accepting the marriage proposal of the creepiest man in town, a mysterious toymaker named Dr. Drosselmeier. Of course, she's a #strongfemalecharacter, so she vehemently rejects him - only to fall victim to his (very heavy-handedly hidden) magic, which transports her in a magical world made of sugar, full of hidden dangers.

Concept: 💭💭💭 The Nutcracker isn't my favourite story ever, but I'm a sucker for a good fairytale - and for good music! I think it's a story that lends itself very heavily to a specific kind of whimsical, airy aesthetic - while allowing for darker themes or storytelling aspects to lurk in the shadows. A friend whose taste I trust recommended this book to me, and while I was skeptical that the summary (mostly because the blurb included a list of #tropes, which is a bookish red flag for me) would really deliver on its vague promises, I've done more for less.

Execution: 💥 This book should come with a 'NO DIVING! THIS POOL IS ONLY LESS THAN 1M DEEP' warning - it's so shallow I was encouraging my own reflection to keep going after every chapter. Bafflingly, this issue actually worsens when Marietta gets to the magical isekai world of Everwood - which is the OPPOSITE of what is supposed to happen! You would think a world governed by an evil mouse king (who is not a mouse, just a guy. he has enchanted mice running up and down his coat, ooh scary) and literally made of sweets would be fun, but we only get TOLD the names of its stories and legends and then the book is like 'next chapter! marietta felt more at home because her new friends told her stuff!' Plus, in the latter half of the book you really chafe against the author's lack of skill - like watching a puppet show while clearly being able to see the fingers / hands of the puppeteers, her characters are angry, awestruck, and miserable in the most wooden of ways as the author stomps on the next bullet point in her outline with all the subtlety of an elephant.

Personal Enjoyment: ❤❤ I can't say I enjoyed reading this book, because I really didn't - at one point I had to put the book down after SIX PAGES because marietta was getting on my nerves with her badly timed horniness (which she didn't know was horniness, because that builds ~~tension~~). But I had a LOT of fun recounting this book to my friend (the one who recommended it to me, who then gave up less than 20% in) and my sister. Everything that happened WAS frustrating, but in a way that made me laugh - which is the reason why I kept reading. It was like watching a collision in slow-mo - I had to know where it ended.

Favourite Moment: this entire book was painful but i had a good laugh when marietta and the captain fuck in the snow - and i do mean fuck. ass fully out behaviour. everwood is supposed to be stuck in a forever winter and they were all 'we'll just lay our coats down, it'll be fine'. like, i am absolutely sure it will NOT be fine, but you do you! it's not like marietta 'damn this feminism shit is easy' stelle is gonna listen to anyone anyway. that would be non-feminist! a ho never gets cold!

Favourite Character: Dellara, AKA the remains of a Sugar Plum Fairy equivalent stripped of every possible interesting thing and left on the floor to bleed out as a 'mean girl'. Don't get me wrong, Pirlipata was a fascinatingly underused character too, but Dellara actually snapped at Marietta multiple times (didn't amount to anything, but A+ for effort) and we simply have to stan her for that. Also she endures torture for the sake of others and is an otherworldly immortal being who becomes Queen at the end. I would gladly have thrown Marietta into the path of an oncoming bus to follow Dellara's storyline instead.

[littleonekitten]

A new conclusion has been made:

I’ve only ever been in love once..and I’m scared no one is ever going to love me again. I only know how to be loved one way, so If I date someone new I’m going to be consistently be comparing them to my ex, down to every nutshell just be use I don’t know how to be loved differently. I don’t know how to be loved without him, or with someone knew. I know I wouldn’t accept that “new love” the same as I did before. I don’t miss my ex because of my ex. I miss him because of the way he showed me love, he took every broken piece and held it all together, gently glueing me back together. I think that’s the reason I still cling to him, it’s because I’m still convinced he’s the only option.

He’s the only option, even though I know deep down we could never be together. We could try over and over again and it just wouldn’t work. I knew my needs and wants and he didn’t. He wants everyone to be a big happy family, and I don’t. I want my relationship separated from my friends and family because when it all comes together it gets messy. I tried to explain it to him and he never understood until the end, where I predicted our break up and how it was going to happen and he still wouldn’t have believed me. I tried. I tried the damn best I could. I offered support, I always over communicated, I swallowed my pride and apologized for things and did things I didn’t want to do but I did it for him, because he was the most important thing and I valued our relationship more then anything. It got to a point for him that I wasn’t worth it, or he’d tell me reassurance but never any action. If I am shown that I’m not wanted, I will not be there. I think the hardest thing about a break up and seeing them slowly not want to work on it, and fall out of love. It hurts being the one to break up because I was cornered and I knew he wasn’t going to do it. It hurts still loving him after all of the pain and hurt. I guess love is really the most powerful feeling. Of course- there’s lots of other reasons we wouldn’t work out.. but I think the main reason is.. we don’t want to change ourself for each other and that’s the hardest part, there’s this need to be true to yourself and your goals and ambitions as a young independent woman, and yet the need to conform into something else for love. It’s hard being independent in that way, it’s a standard honestly. Yes, you can fall in love but you can’t compromise anything because he should love you for who you are “don’t change for a man”! And no, you don’t need to grieve or cry over it, your respect for yourself will always be more important and higher then anything “so stop wasting time, he’s not worth it”. I think being hyper independent stems from not being open and vulnerable, while also caring too much about what other think about your personal life, I often feel my need and sadness for love is often attacked my by hyper female independence, which yes can cause a lack of team work and vulnerability and protection.I hope I can find someone where I don’t have to feel like I need to protect myself around… I felt like he wouldn’t compromise, or if he came back ( if you love someone set them free type thing) I don’t think he would want to change and work, and put in the work and the consistency and the taking accountability. I also want to make it clear that this wasn’t a one off thing, he’d apologize, and do it again. It was a pattern, and that pattern he chose not to break. I fought the world for him, but there comes a time where the patterns aren’t changing, the behaviour isn’t changing after talking about it and not being heard or validated, enough is enough. I still love him, but he doesn’t deserve it after how much he hurt me, and I don’t know what to do about that, because everyone deserves love. Even if it’s someone you least expect or didn’t want anymore. Everyone says I shouldn’t love him anymore because that gives him power. It gives him excuses and leeway to do anything he wants because he knows i’ll always love him and use it to his advantage. I will always be tied and attached and love him because he was my first love. As I am looking back on it since it was my first love ( it wasn’t for his and he dated more then me which gave us different outlooks) I understand now how I could’ve came off in certain ways in love intensity and commitment, but I wouldn’t have known and understood if we didn’t separate.But you live, learn and experience. I guess that’s life though right? Idk. I feel like we are soulmates that just can’t be together.

I’m lucky to have met someone who loved me like he did, it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced with someone, and something I’ll always remember and cherish. I’m lucky to have met a soulmate, even if fate separates us for immortality.

If our relationship was a trope it would be

“He fell first, She fell harder”

If our relationship had a cause of death it would:

“death by drowning”

[impider]

REPOST & LIST 6 SONGS THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE . / for ezra .

ICON by jaden ━━ ❝ i am not a mayan, i'm a menace (menace) / it's wild, you can lie like a professor / i don't got the time to put you on the stretcher (stretcher) / i am here and i'm still flexing (flexing) / i am just an icon living / start a record label, msfts just did it, whoa / i'm high snob, cover five minutes, whoa / we are so hot in the business (woo) . ❞

DNA by kendrick lamar ━━ ❝ i got power, poison, pain and joy inside my dna / i got hustle though, ambition, flow inside my dna / i was born like this, since one like this, immaculate conception / i transform like this, perform like this, was yeshua new weapon . i don't contemplate, i meditate, then off your fucking head . ❞

FED UP by ghostemane ━━ ❝ wind up in the wrong mindset / might've wound up with the wrong set of friends / on a benzo bender withdrawal, never go back, no / say a prayer to someone who cares / ain't nobody listenin', or they left you on read again / never again will i put my faith in a religion / no god or satan gonna make me understand i'm dealt a bad hand . ❞

KNIFE TALK by drake , 21 savage , project pat ━━ ❝ smith & wesson, i'm 4L gang reppin' / we done baptized more niggas than a damn reverend (yeah) / kappa alpha, me and my gang, we do all the steppin' / who you checkin'? this fn shoot east to west end (gang) . ❞

D-DAY by agust d ━━ ❝ in a world full of hate / hatе is even more unnеcessary (okay) / lotus flowers bloom brilliantly even in mud / a feeling of inferiority, self-loathing compared to others / aim your gun at these things starting today (yeah, yeah, yeah) . what are you? break the limits, man . ❞

WORST BEHAVIOR by drake ━━ ❝ fuck you bitch, i'm more than high / my momma probably hear that and be mortified / this ain't the son you raised who used to take the acura / 5 a.m. then go and shoot degrassi up on morningside / for all the stuntin', i'll forever be immortalized / yeah, back and forth across the border line / hate to leave the city, but i've got to do the overtime . ❞

& 6 QUOTES THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE.

❝ ❛ dear god , ❜ she prayed , ❛ let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. ❜ ❞ ━━ betty smith , a tree grows in brooklyn

❝ i am nothing special ; just a common man with common thoughts , and i've led a common life . there are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten . but in one respect i have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived : i've loved another with all my heart and soul ; and to me , this has always been enough . ❞ ━━ nicholas sparks , the notebook

❝ do you think there's a difference ? between belonging with and belonging to ? ❞ ━━ jenny han , to all the boys i've loved before

❝ have you ever hoped for something ? and held out for it against all the odds ? until everything you did was ridiculous ? ❞ ━━ ali shaw , the girl with glass feet

❝ do not despise your own place and hour . every place is under the stars , every place is the center of the world . ❞ ━━ john burroughs , studies in nature and literature

❝ i believe in love . i believe in hard times and love winning . i believe marriage is hard . i believe people make mistakes . i believe people can want two things at once . i believe people are selfish and generous at the same time . i believe very few people want to hurt others . i believe that you can be surprised by life. i believe in happy endings . ❞ ━━ isabel gillies, happens every day : an all - too - true story

tagged by : @spidersiren ( HELLO MY BABY HELLO MY HONEY ) tagging : @novaragno , @arachstar , @arachnidiots , @chimugukuru , @imsobrooklyn + highly encourage anyone else !