#i have little to no irl support if i ever need it

[sunsetforestzone]

maybe like half my problems come from being chronically online .

[trans-axolotl]

have not left bed today + found out another friend got locked up + want to beat up every single adult that saw what was happening to me and looked away or actively made it worse

[demon-country]

Man, no wonder Stolas got literal heart eyes after Blitz did this. This was his "Harriet! Don't get on that train!" moment, the big gesture he so desperately wanted just so he'd know that Blitz really did care about him enough to want him to stay. He had been so sure that that was going to be the last time he ever saw Blitz, that the last thing he ever did would be saving Blitz's life, and Blitz's response was to fight against the chains dragging him away just so he could run to Stolas with a desperate, heart-wrenching plea not to sacrifice himself.

Blitz had thought for sure that he'd never be able to give Stolas the kind of dramatic romcom moment Stolas longed for, but the joke's on him and us, because even though we all knew he would inevitably end up giving Stolas one and were eagerly awaiting it, no one expected it to be like that. And yet, the writers pulled through for us once again, because there really could not have been a more meaningful and moving way for him to have done so.

Anything where Blitz actually said something along the lines of "don't get on that train", could have been misconstrued by both Stolas and irl media illiterate viewers as Blitz just saying what Stolas wanted to hear without actually meaning it (assuming Stolas even remembers that conversation). But there was nothing contrived about this, there was no time for him to have possibly thought about any potential romcom moments at all; he just saw that he was about to lose Stolas for good and fought as hard and as frantically as he could, just to beg Stolas not to take the fall for him. To not love him so much that he'd think Blitz was worth protecting with his very life.

And I don't even think he realizes just how much that meant to Stolas, to know that the man he loves would fight for him with such fervor, despite knowing that it was a fruitless effort. Blitz, without knowing it and without even realizing just how much raw, earnest, desperate love he was displaying, gave Stolas exactly the kind of overt and undeniable proof that he was loved and wanted that he had always needed.

Except that, as Stolas has already found out, that's not enough. He made his big gesture to Blitz and Blitz made one to him, and that's a great start, but love's not just shown through grand gestures and they're not what'll help you pick up the pieces when your world falls apart.

The smaller, softer, quieter gestures of love are what Stolas will need most going forward, but for someone who has received as little love in his life as Stolas has, who has suffered from depression for ages, and who has just lost almost everything (including his antidepressants!), it might end up being hard for him to tell the difference between what is done out of love and what is done out of mere obligation to repay a debt. Not to worry, though, because he'll learn how to spot it soon enough.

He'll see that sometimes love is shown by taking care of someone when they don't have the strength to do it themselves

And by taking them by the hand and giving them a place to rest when it all becomes too much for them to bear

And by catching them when they fall, even when you're upset with each other

And by being so comforting that they feel safe falling asleep and leaving themselves vulnerable next to you without any hesitation.

Perhaps the greatest injustice the world has dealt to Blitz is by convincing him that he ruins lives, when the truth is that the person behind his walls has a way of loving people that is so incredibly healing. Simply by being his real, honest self, he manages to give the people he cares about the kind of love they need the most, without even trying. Without even noticing how much his words and actions have affected them for the better.

And now that those walls have started to drop, his loved ones have been able to start showing how much they love and want to support him as well. I have faith that once Stolas has cottoned on to the little ways Blitz has been showing him that he cares, that he'll start reciprocating those gestures. The man is such a romantic and in the song Just Look My Way he even says "I can give you everything you need" as well as "and no matter what in this world I could give, it's not enough"; there's no way he won't eventually try to provide for and take care of Blitz once he's well enough to. He just needs some time to heal, and until then Blitz will be there, giving him the love and care that he needs to keep his head above water.

Tl;dr: all the people who said that Blitz would never be able to give Stolas what he needs in a partner have just been proven dead wrong on all counts, and will continue to be proven so.

[pomefioredove]

Hello! I would like to request overblot boys + cater & tweels finding out that the reader who is usually shy and calm all the time is actually a streamer/vtuber. They’re very chaotic when they stream like whenever they get jumpscare, reader would scream really loud and when they find something funny, they would let out the most contagious laugh that would also make their viewers laugh at the most unfunniest things.

Thats all! Please take your time and take care╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ vtuber reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, cater, leona, azul, jade, floyd, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

Cater first came across your content on Magicam. you're popular enough to have people reposting clips of your streams, and, of course, he recognized the cadence of your voice. after a little investigation, he's sure it's you... though he hasn't brought it up quite yet. he's keeping that info for when he needs it

he did, however, tell Riddle, who...

"I don't understand,"

...yeah. he doesn't get your jokes or your avatar or anything really, but he still follows and watches to support you... not that he'd ever admit it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

how did Leona find out? your guess is as good as mine. maybe you let something slip, maybe Cater said something, maybe he just had a feeling

either way, he really enjoys the look on your face when he holds up his phone to show you one of your own streams

"This you?"

...then, he never brings it up again

whether he still watches is for him to know, and you to guess

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jade always had a suspicion that you were more than meets the eye, but he never had any reason to pry until Floyd let himself into your room while you were in the middle of a stream

"OOH, pretty, can I try?"

of course, you have to fend him off from your keyboard, and he settles for watching, instead

the next time you stream, he's there again, with Jade, too

the time after that, Azul is also watching

you have no idea why the three of them find this side of you so captivating, but they're quiet, so you let them stay

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I feel like Kalim is more online than you'd think. he probably saw a clip of you in a try not to laugh compilation and brought it to Jamil

"Hey, look, their name kinda sounds like our friend! What a funny coincidence!"

Jamil doesn't say anything then, but later, he does look into it. it doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together, after all

he doesn't say anything to you. it's hardly enough for blackmail, and he sees no other reason to bring it up

sometimes, though, when he's alone and working, he'll put on a stream just to hear your voice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rook knows, because of course Rook knows, and of course he tells Vil when he feels like it

and of course Vil looks you up out of curiosity, and of course he's surprised to see that you have quite a following. nothing compared to his, but he can't blame you for that. he wonders why you never talk about this, but assuming you have a good reason, he doesn't ask you to, either

...he could never admit that he finds your silly jokes and bits funny, anyway

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia is the pièce de résistance in all of this

he knew before Kalim, he knew before Cater, he even knew before Rook

he'd been going through different streams and stumbled across yours because he thought your avatar was cute, and...

of course, he recognized you. the way you pause when you're talking, your laugh, even your choice of jokes, is all so... you. he knew you were hiding something behind that shyness

he's been a subscriber and donator since he recognized you, and the only reason he's never brought it up IRL is because he'd pass out if he had to talk to you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Malleus

he's the only one who didn't know until you told him personally (and, even then, he was confused)

it's not like Silver or Sebek are regularly watching vtuber streams, and if Lilia were (he probably is), he wouldn't have said anything. so, it's up to you

it takes a bit to explain everything, and you'll have to show him your avatar to satisfy his curiosity, but he understands everything rather easily

though, he notes that your avatar is not nearly as cute as you are in real life

[maxlarens]

i am on my knees Politely Begging You to write a lil something about carlos :( he literally looks like a puppy :( i love him sm :(

yes definitely i can do that :) im not a huge carlos girly but one of my irl friends is a MASSIVE carlos girly so i channeled her for this. but i do agree he's got those 'whatever u say beautiful' brown eyes lol. hope u enjoy! (ALSO this might make it seem like i hate carlos. which is NOT true. leclerc!readers voice overtook me and shes clearly very headstrong lol)

CS: taking what's not yours

pairing(s): carlos sainz jr x leclerc!reader

summary: you hate carlos sainz, plain and simple.

word count: 1.8k+ (read on ao3)

“Sharl, please tell me he isn’t coming tonight.”

Charles looks at you over the top of his phone, pausing his texting to shoot you an expression so dry that you would laugh if you weren’t so concerned about his answer, “Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious. It’s your birthday.”

Charles splutters in shock, starting his sentence a few times over before finally spitting out, “Of course, he’s coming, it’s my birthday.”

You roll your eyes, “So what.”

“So what!” Charles shakes his head, “He’s my teammate. He’s my friend.”

You tip your head back and groan loudly, childishly, and then you slap a manicured hand down on the kitchen counter in frustration. Charles snorts, then goes back to texting as you make faces at him to assuage your compulsion to scream at him.

“Christ,” Arthur says as he comes into the kitchen, “What are you two fighting about now?”

You shoot your youngest brother a look full of disdain and say, “None of your business.”

While Charles, at the exact same time, groans, “She’s mad that Carlos is coming tonight.”

“Oh my god. Typical.”

You make another face and aim a gesture at both your brothers that your maman wouldn’t be very pleased to see if she were here. Arthur laughs and Charles makes the same gesture back at you.

“You know,” Arthur says, his head stuck halfway inside of Charles’ fridge, “You clearly need to hook up with him and get it over with. We all know you hate him because you—”

The rest of his sentence is cut short by you lobbing the nearest packet of crisps at his head, followed by a wooden spatula that hits him somewhere on his shoulder blade. He whirls around to glare at you, the packet of crisps and the spatula clattering unceremoniously to the ground.

“Shut up!” you shriek, “You little freak. I do not want him.”

His mouth hanging half-open, Arthur aborts an attempt to throw a packet of spinach at you in retaliation and lets out a raucous laugh at your expense, “Sure. You react like that and you expect me to believe that you don’t want him.”

“Yes! I do, Arthur. Because I do not!”

You look at Charles incredulously, hoping for some kind of support from the more reasonable of your brothers, but he only shrugs, “He has a point.”

You shake your head, eyes impossibly wide in your complete disbelief. Some younger brothers these two are— thinking that you have a crush on your mortal enemy. It’s insulting. You’re not some half-baked floozy like the women that man usually dates. How dare they act as if you would ever stoop so low as to let Carlos Sainz Jr touch you.

You hiss, “Traitors. Both of you,” you knock Charles’ phone out of his hand, and it lands face down on the counter, “Who are you even texting?”

You don’t wait for the answer, throwing your hands up and storming out of the room. You don’t actually care who Charles is texting, it’s probably his girlfriend— who you love for the record— you’re just mad at him. And Arthur. And it felt good to throw a veritable tantrum even though you’re pushing thirty. Not that it’s your fault— no, that blame is reserved for Carlos, who makes you feel like lava is about to come out of your fucking eyes whenever he’s around (or is mentioned in conversation, or is within a five-kilometer radius of you). How can you be expected to act normal about him when he’s seemingly made it his life mission to piss you off?

Somewhere between the argument and the beginning of the party, you calm down and apologise to Charles and Arthur for being a heinous bitch. You don’t retract what you’d said, but you admit you could have said it in a nicer, and perhaps less aggressive way. You just hope that there’ll be enough people at the party that you can avoid him, you’d like to get through the afternoon without starting a yelling match. Though, half of that decision is decidedly not up to you.

Slowly, the apartment fills up with Charles’ friends until all of a sudden there are so many people that you’re struggling to find a way through the living room. You’ve got an empty wine glass in your hand and you’re on a mission to fill it up.

You’re waylaid by Lando, who’s been trying to set up the DJ deck he’d brought over for at least twenty minutes now. You stop to watch Max, squatting halfway under the fold-out table, untangle a truly unruly mess of wires, passing them up to Lando one at a time. Max’s girlfriend shoots you an exasperated look as she impatiently holds onto hers, and what you assume is Max’s drink.

You raise an eyebrow, “Need anything?”

“Nah,” Lando answers, leaning over the decks to reach for a few wires from Max, “Tell Charles the music’s almost here.”

You nod, sharing another dubious look with the other girl in your vicinity, “Great, he’s excited.”

“Won’t be long,” Max adds, voice muffled by the table.

Max’s girlfriend shakes her head minutely, then mouths ‘Another twenty, at least.’ You have to stifle a laugh as Max pokes his head out from under the table to glare at her.

“I can see you.”

She shrugs, “I was betting on it.”

You watch them smile fondly at each other, their eyes sparkling with an emotion that you know well but haven’t had the privilege of experiencing in a long while. It makes your heart ache with jealousy, longing. Something like that. You wave goodbye and leave before they put you in too sour of a mood, promising to find them later. You’re not sure if you’ll hold to that, as much as you hadn’t wanted it to, this afternoon is turning into a bit of a bummer for you. Carlos has been lingering at the edges of everything you’ve been doing, every conversation you’ve had. He’s here already— you’d caught a glimpse of him coming in the front door. You’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Then you push your way into the near-empty kitchen and it does.

He is in there and he is holding your bottle of wine.

A fire ignites immediately in the pit of your stomach, burning hot and bright at the sight of him and his stupid face. You bite the inside of your lip hard to stop from saying anything unsavoury and grip your wine glass with enough force you’re afraid you’ll smash it to pieces.

“That’s mine,” you say instead, in your calmest voice.

Carlos’ head snaps up, his hair flopping across his forehead. He blinks owlishly at you, mouth hanging halfway open in something like shock. You tear your eyes away from his, looking pointedly at the bottle of wine in his hands. There’s no glass for him to pour it into but you have to suppress a scowl anyway.

“Hello,” he says, making no move to place the wine back where he’d found it.

“Sainz,” you answer.

You stand there, surveying each other in silence for a few moments. The air is thick with the buzzing electricity of whatever tension you two cannot help but generate in the presence of each other. You watch him run his tongue across the row of his perfectly straight, white teeth.

Eventually, you bite, “Are you deaf? Put my wine down.”

Infuriatingly, he just raises his eyebrows, “Your wine?”

“Yes,” you grit your teeth, “My wine.”

Carlos shrugs in a way that makes you want to stomp forward and strangle him to death. He knows full well that he’s pissing you off beyond belief— you can see it in the way his eyes glint, in the way his mouth turns up at the corner. And maybe Arthur was right earlier because right now you’re not sure if you want to shove him out a window or grab his face and kiss him so hard that his mouth bruises.

Fuck.

You’ve been really trying to avoid coming to that conclusion. It’s not that you’re blind. You know objectively, logically, that Carlos Sainz Jr is crazy hot. But you hate him and you never want to be one of the gorgeous model women that he drags around everywhere for his own entertainment. You’re better than that, you’re not destined to be the short-term girlfriend of some man before he decides to throw you away for someone different. You’re a Leclerc. That means something. Being Carlos Sainz’s girlfriend doesn’t— and you don’t appreciate having to fight your own thoughts for control over something like that.

“Eh, well,” he says, “If you didn’t want anyone to touch it you should have put it away.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, “You’re fucking infuriating.”

You stalk across the kitchen without thinking, stopping a few paces away from him. You make a grab for the neck of the bottle and he pulls it quickly away, his arm lifted to keep it up out of your reach. You scowl openly now— what a child.

You jab a finger at him, just shy of poking it right into his firm chest, “Give that back.”

He laughs, a boyish, but vindictive thing that makes your head burn hot, “Say please.”

You spit, “Fuck you,” and you make a grab for it.

For a split second, you’re entirely confident in your ability to reach high enough. You boost yourself with a hand on the counter and almost almost reach the bottle in his grip. Then your hand slips, or your shoe slides on the tile and you’re suddenly face-planting right into Carlos’ body. Sheer anxiety floods your body as you anticipate landing in a mortifying pile of limbs at his feet, but before that can happen his arm winds tight around your waist. His fingers flatten into your side, keeping you in place as you find your footing again.

Both of you are still for a tense moment. The arm that was holding your wine hostage has lowered, the bottle left forgotten on the counter as his hand flattens against your shoulder. Your heart is beating high in your throat, your breath shallow. You can feel his heartbeat through his shirt, steady and rhythmic. His breath tickling the shell of your ear, the stubble on his chin brushing against your forehead. You hate the stirring feeling that runs down your spine and into your toes— the shiver that you have to suppress.

You push against the arm around your waist, stumbling back when he releases you like you’re on fire and he’s just been burnt. He is staring at you, expression ragged, mouth hung half open. You tell yourself you don’t know what that look means. You tell yourself that you’re not feeling the same thing.

You lurch forward to snatch the wine off the counter and then skitter out of his reach, pointing a finger at him, “Don’t touch my shit again, Sainz.”

He holds his hands up in surrender, his expression changing back into something you’re comfortable with, something you know what to do with, “You got it, Leclerc.”

⭐ i had so much fun writing charles&arthur&reader like i am very fond of them as siblings. i will have to write them again i think. also did anyone spot the max x photographer!reader cameo???

mandatory song inspo:

fill out this form to be added to my taglist: @clowngirlsstuff

[sleepyangelkami]

I'm posting this from my phone so please bare with me guys.

"ew, you write y/n as a baby."

okay, so. I understand that the way I write might not float everyone's boat which is so okay !! But yk what you could do...? Scroll !! There's no need to hate. I really apologize if the way I've written my readers in x reader fics is harmful in any way. However, I'm not going to stop making the character they're with baby them and look after them. The beauty in all of this is that none of it is real. Life can be hard and life can be way toooo much and at the end of the day you might js wanna read ab getting babied. People baby their partners all the time whether you're male female any other gender none of this matters. I write female y/n and if you have a problem with the characters babying her but at the same time you're posting matt sturniolo (I apologize if I spelled that wrong) and saying omg cutie baby 🥺🥺 it's the same thing !!! It's so normal and people are making it weird. If you want to read badass!y/n then write badass!y/n. People get so hung up on writing shy readers and saying it's weird. It's how a lot of people feel and I'm personally really shy irl which is why everything on my account is fake !! Kami isn't even my real name ! You guys need to stop spreading hate towards people and if you don't like their work whether it's cringe or even a little weird then please just scroll

"ew innocence kinks are for p*edos."

Oh my. More often than not innocence kinks are usually submissive people loving the chase and getting dominant people to spell it all out for them. Not only that but sometimes people suffer from childhood trauma (me !!) and they read things that make them get to relive the part where their 'innocence' was 'taken' from them in a gentle way and not by abuse of power. Also, some people just have innocence kinks !! And that's okay as long as you're two consenting adults. When did everyone get so judgemental !! I've seen stepcest, ACTUAL incest and more prominently pain kinks and knives kinks guys innocence kinks really are not the worst problems out there ! I understand that some people take them too far which is not okay and under no circumstances would I ever support someone taking advantage of someone else who doesn't fully comprehend what's going on. But yk what this is?? Mere fantasies. They don't exist, it's just what people like to read so please leave us alone 🩷

And finally, "why is y/n such a pushover omg?"

Wanna start off by saying I don't condone cheating ever !! And I would never write a fic where the reader gets back with the character after they cheat. With that being said, the only fics I have ever seen of that (very VERY few) they have put trigger warnings at the beginning to let you know what you're reading. And for the people who say that the reader shouldn't go back because their partner yelled at them... Guys PLEASE !! I understand that yelling isn't something that should be excused, you should never put your partner in a position where they are scared or feel uncomfortable. However, I also know for a fact that everyone reading this has at one point in their lives yelled at someone. Being loved isn't about loving someone with happy rainbows there's gonna be bad days which I find realistic enough. Partners argue, sometimes relationships even take breaks and people get petty and people yell but you know why?? Cause we're human !!! It's in our nature if we're angry or annoyed or whatever it may be. Of course this behavior shouldn't be excused if it's constantly on show. Although denying the fact that you'd ever get back with someone after they yelled at you during an argument is a little bit childish. I don't mean hate to anybody whatsoever I'm just saying that you're dating a human (hopefully) not an alien (you'd be surprised on Tumblr I actually can't rule that one out) they have emotions and while sometimes they can be misplaced... It doesn't mean they're a bad person for it.

This isn't meant to harm or send hate to anyone !! I've just seen so much hatred spread across Tumblr and it's really upsetting. People should learn to support one another and if you don't like the content, scroll ! Once again this is hate to nobody enjoy ur day/morning/evening/night lovelies !!! 🩷🩷

(sorry for the ramble angels)

[racetowrite]

On a hurry

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Carlos Sainz x f!reader

Tags : yeah that's right I have an addiction for Carlitos , afab!fem!reader, oral and fingering (f!recieving), unprotected piv (wrap it irl I am begging you)

Word Count : 1.3k

Carlos loves to take you dancing. There’s nothing in this world quite like seeing the excitement in your eyes when he tells you to wear your best dress, that he’s taking you out of the town to dance the night away until your cheeks are red and your feet ache. There’s nothing quite like your laughter as he spins you around before dipping you to the floor, your nails digging into his back, even though you know he’d never drop you. His alters definitely aren’t ones for dancing, but Carlos would dance with you every night if he could.

He loves going dancing with you, truly, but the best part of the night is always the end. Pressing you against his chest, gripping your hips and grinding your pretty ass against him, tucking his face in the crook of your neck to suck tiny bruises into your skin. He loves feeling you shiver against his front while he whispers everything he wants to do to you in your ear. Telling you how sexy you are in your pretty dress, how he wants your heels to stay on while he fucks you when you both get home. You’re soaked in your panties, and Carlos knows it.

“Are you going to let me take you home, amor?” he whispers, as if he even has to ask. As if you both weren’t going back to sleep in the same bed anyway. As if you’d ever refuse him.

You moan softly and nod, and you feel Carlos’s smug smile against your sweaty skin, before he’s wrapping a strong arm around your waist and leading you to the door. He opens the door to his Ferrari for you, helping you into the passenger seat. Ever the gentleman.

Your apartment, one you had received as a gift from Carlos, sits just a little outside the city of Madrid. Quieter, neighbors less nosy, less street vendors lingering outside the door. You love your home, except on nights like these, where you just need one of your boyfriend inside you as soon as possible. You settle in for the thirty minute drive, trying not to think about the aching between your thighs, but Carlos is ravenous. He settles a calloused hand against your thigh, running it just under your dress. You spread your thighs slowly, trying to be subtle. But Carlos notices. He always does.

“You want me to touch you, princesa?” Carlos says, chucking slightly, the smug bastard that he is.

“You know I do,” you whine, half annoyed and half absolutely desperate. Carlos reaches just a little farther lower, running a finger over the thin material of your panties, feeling how you’ve soaked through the lace. Your hips buck when he presses a harsh finger to your clit, a choked gasp escaping your throat.

“Dios, baby,” Carlos grunts, the hand he has on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles are white. “That needy, huh?”

“Always,” you sigh, “Always for you.” You watch Carlos’s jaw clench, and nearly cry when he takes his hand away from your clothed pussy.

“Take your panties off and spread your legs,” he grunts, leaving no room for argument. You lift your hips off the leather seat to drag your panties off your legs, toeing your heels off to take them all of the way off. You glance at Carlos, his eyes still trained on the road ahead, and, perhaps against your better judgment, drape your panties across his lap.

“Amor,” Carlos mutters through clenched teeth. “Mierda, I will pull this car over, I swear to God.”

“What’s stopping you, baby?” you ask sweetly, taunting him, goading him.

“Because I’m going to fuck you so hard you pass out, and I’m not carrying your fucked-out body up the stairs to our apartment.” He speaks like he’s threatening you, as if your cunt isn’t clenching around the suddenly unbearable emptiness inside you.

He slides his hand back over your thigh, calloused fingers finally connecting with your hot pussy. He slides a quick finger inside of you, crooking it hard until you’re gasping out a choked little moan. The palm of his hand grinds against your sensitive clit, and your hand flies up to grab at his wrist.

“Carlos, fuck, oh Jesus,” you stutter over your words, unable to from a sentence at the sudden intrusion. Carlos ignores you, sliding a second finger deep into you, right alongside the first. His fingers are thick, far thicker than yours, stretching you out. You can feel the sticky juices of your cunt dripping down, down onto the once-pristine leather of the seat. Your thighs are trembling, bucking into Carlos’s hand. You gaze up at your boyfriend through glassy eyes, greeted with the sight of his strong jaw illuminated by the streetlights through the window.

His eyes are trained unwaveringly on the road, and he looks almost unaffected by what he’s doing to you. Almost. But you notice the clench in his jaw, and with a quick once-over of his body, drawn tight with tension, the thick bulge in his slacks.

You reach a hand over to palm at him, but his gruff voice stops you. “If you fucking touch me right now, princesa, you won’t cum for a fucking week.” Your hand snaps away immediately.

“Good girl, hermosa,” he mutters. You want to scream as he plays with the spongy spot inside your pussy. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to stretch you out on my fingers, and get you ready for my cock. You’re going to fucking take it, alright? You’re going to cum all over my fingers, and then, when you’re done, I’ll take you inside and fuck this pretty pussy. Am I clear?”

You nod, but Carlos isn’t looking. You murmur out a soft, “yes,” and Carlos grins. You barely have a moment to think before he’s jamming a third finger inside you and begins to hammer them into your pussy, harsh and unrelenting. He fucks you deep on his fingers, his palm continuing to press into your clit. Your thighs are shaking, hips twitching like you can’t decide if you’re trying to get away or get closer to Carlos’s unrelenting thrusts.

You’re whining needily, and Carlos’s gruff voice fills the car, unable to hold his words back when he’s got you at his mercy like this. 

“You’re so pretty, amor. Can’t wait to get you on my cock when we get home. You’re gonna be all stretched out, bebita, this sweet pussy is just gonna let me sink right in, yeah?”

“I want you to cum all over my fingers. Wanna feel this pretty pussy clench just like you’re going to clench around my cock later.”

Carlos jams his fingers into you again, and it doesn’t take long at all before you’re throwing your head back against the headrest, gasping out a high-pitched moan, nearly inaudible.

“That’s it, princesa. So fucking pretty when you cum,” Carlos murmurs, tearing his eyes from the road to look at you as you writhe in your seat, your pretty tits pushed out as your back arches. He stops thrusting his fingers, waiting for you to finish clenching around them.

As your body finally settles, he slips his hand from between your thighs, bringing his sticky fingers to his face. You watch, mouth agape, as Carlos licks his fingers clean of your slick, his eyes back to being trained on the road.

“You always taste so sweet for me, hermosa. This is better than any race win” he murmurs, and you whine all over again, your shaky thighs snapping shut.

“What?” he asks, chuckling darkly, “too much already? C’mon, mi vida, you know that the night is far from over.” 

Your eyes widen as the car slows to a stop, right outside your apartment building. Fuck.

[sparrowssally]

Okay I lied that last rant wasn’t over

YET ANOTHER THING: I’ve seen a LOT of the blogs on here who ship David and Michael romantically talk about how David is “secretly” queer and how they’re going to be “safe spaces” for him when he’s ready to come out publicly.

Y’all. There is so, so much wrong with this for so many reasons. First of all, aside from a few rumors to the contrary that I’ve never seen any basis for, David has always been straight-presenting. He’s only dated women and is currently married to a woman, with whom he has several children. Yes, one of his kids is non-binary and he is an ardent supporter of them and an ally for the LGBTQ+ community as whole. This is GREAT. It shows he’s an engaged parent and a wonderful ally to the community. However, there is nothing pointing to the fact that that David is queer himself. Him wearing pride pins and wearing the “queer is here” sweatshirt is zero indication of his own sexuality. For all we know, he’s just supporting his kid. Also, all the “better halves” and “work wives” jokes made between the Tennant and Sheen families are clearly that: jokes. They’re all clearly in on the gag and think it’s funny, so they keep using it. There’s been no real life basis for them actually all being in love with each other and in some kind of swingers situation.

Second, labeling David as “queer” when he hasn’t specifically said he is himself is just plain wrong. There’s nothing “safe space” about that. Y’all just want to label him that because you want to fit him into your special little mold, so that your ship of Michael/David can set sail IRL, or so you can feel better represented. If it’s the latter, I encourage you to look at how David is an outspoken ally for the LBGTQ+ community. He’s made his voice known for years about how passionate he is about that community’s rights, and is a great high-profile ally to have. He doesn’t NEED to be queer himself if that’s not truly who he is.

Point is: Don’t label someone with a sexuality they’ve never publicly used themselves just because you want to see them that way.

If for some reason David wants to come out in the future, that’s great and I’ll support him wholeheartedly if it ever happens. But…there is NOTHING WRONG with letting him be in a happy, straight-presenting marriage with his wife. Both of them seem very happy, and both of them continue to be strong advocates for the LBGTQ+ community. Let them live their lives.

[wrenscoffin]

More venting in the tags, again just ignore me.

I'm gonna have to do this a couple of times, tag limits exist after all.

I don't know what to do, I need to vent but I uninstalled all social media besides this hellsite app, so I'm going to vent in the tags, just ignore me if you see this.

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐮𝐩 • 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦

SUMMARY: Jude says some disgusting things during an argument which results in you leaving for some space. Maybe you'll makeup...

GENRE: angst, smut

WARNING: angst, kinda some fighting, NSFW, cunilingus, intercourse (no protection. Wrap it up irl tho), cursing

PAIRING: Jude Bellingham x f reader

Request?: Yes

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

AUTHOR NOTE: Reader is from England but she can honestly be any background

My master list is coming soon don't worry

Not proof read

Don't repost my work or I'll snap you into two

Enjoy

Fights were rare between you two, but when they happened, they weren’t pretty. That was the case tonight.

The door slammed shut after Jude walked out of your shared house. A couple of minutes ago you both were arguing. It started with Jude thinking you were getting too close to a guy at the bar you were both at earlier that night but you weren’t at all. you were simply being friendly. The only person you had eyes for was Jude and only Jude. He didn’t see it like that though.

He spent the passed 30 minutes grilling you, not letting you get many words out. Many many insults were thrown around, many you wish he didn’t say to you.

“you’re a whore.”

“I wish I didn’t fucking meet. You mean nothing to me”

“You aren’t fucking loyal, I should have known not to go out with someone like you.”

In the end of it all, Jude stormed out saying how he needed space to cool down before he said something he regretted. But it was too fucking late for that. He said enough. You weren’t going to stick around for someone who verbally abused you like he’s just done. You had to leave even if it hurts to.

The tears running down your cheeks were hot. You sniffled, wiping them away with the back of your sleeve while you shoved clothes of yours into your suitcase. Your hands were trembling from the anxiety you were having. Jude’s words ringing in your head. “you mean nothing to me.”

Deep down you know he didn’t mean it, but it still hurts hearing him say it. You’ve spent 3 years with Jude. You moved countries, giving up your dream job just to be with and support his career. Why couldn’t he realize that you’ve done everything for him and his happiness.

You zipped up the suitcase and stood up. Before you left the closet you pulled off the hoodie you were wearing and tossed it onto the floor. It was Jude’s hoodie he let you borrow. You didn’t feel comfortable in it anymore.

You walked out of the closet and to the bed taking a seat and pulling out your phone. This was the bed you both shared countless nights on. You tried not to think about all those little moments you had in it with jude. It was too painful to think about.

Grabbing the handle of your suitcase you walked out of the room before you could change your mind. The Uber you called a couple of minutes earlier had arrived just in time. You placed your suitcase in the trunk before slipping into the backseat.

“where to miss?” the driver asked, looking at you in the review mirror. Choking back your tears you answered her. “to the airport.”

-

Jude opened the door to your home. He was finally cooled down after walking for a few minutes. He was ready to talk.

The truth was he regretted the things he said to you. He didn’t wish he never met you. You were the Greatest thing to ever happen to him. He let his stupid thoughts get to him and they made him slip up and say things he wasn’t supposed to. He needed to apologize to you and make things right.

Jude reached the top of the stairs and opened the door to your bedroom. He was expecting to see you curled up under the blanket, but you weren’t.

“Baby?”

Frowning he walked over to the bathroom peaking in to see if you were there. You weren’t of course. Jude was starting to panic. Did you really leave him? He thought to himself. This was his worse fucking nightmare.

Jude walked over to the closet and there it was. He was meet with the sight of clothes everywhere on the floor and a big gap where your clothes once were.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jude mumbled. He ripped his phone out of his pocket quickly dialing your number. The phone rung a couple of times before going to voicemail. Jude tried a couple more times, but it was no use you weren’t going to pick up.

He fucked up big and he knew it.

-

You watched as your phone rung a couple of times from Jude. It pained you to not answer them but you knew you couldn’t. You needed to show how much he hurt you. You needed space.

Once at the airport you put your phone on silence and got out of the car with your suitcase. You got a flight back to England so that’s where you were heading.

There wasn’t a delay so you were on your flight in no time. Here you were on your way out of Germany leaving the love of your life behind. Will you regret this? Probably! But fuck did it feel right, right now.

--

Three days had passed since that night. Since you lost spoke to Jude. You were currently crashing at a friends place since you had nowhere else to go at the moment.

You couldn’t even lie, you were miserable with out Jude. You missed his kisses, him grabbing your waist as you cooked something, his pretty smile. You fucking missed it like crazy.

But you weren’t missing it as much as Jude was missing it. God he fucking missed you bad. He called and text countless times over the passed few days but it was no use. You weren’t picking up anything.

Jude knew he had to make this right with you. He couldn’t live without you. It was fucking him up.

Today Jude had a game before he came back home to England. Even though you were pissed at him you couldn’t help but watch his game.

Right away you can tell his mood was off after his last few days. He wasn’t doing all the hot things he always did when out on the field before the game. He had a tense frown on his face whenever the camera zoomed in on him. The actual game was no better. He was fucking up passes and getting more aggressive towards the other players leading him to getting a yellow.

You felt a little bad. You hated that his performance on the field wasn’t good because of you, but he had to learn that his words cut deep.

After the game you switched off the TV and headed to bed. You climbed under the sheets getting cozy.

As you did your last minute scrolling through your phone. A notification popped up on your phone catching your attention. You were about to swipe it away thinking it’s Jude but it wasn’t . It was actually his mom, Denise.

You and her were very close ever since you started dating Jude. She was like a second mom to you, always giving you advice and helping you out the best she could.

Denise:

Dear, what happened between you and Jude? Every time I mention your name he would get mad and storm off.

Quickly you text her back telling her everything.

You:

me and Jude are kinda going through somethings right now. He said some hurtful things like calling me a whore and left so I left too. Now I’m in England. I just needed space

Your phone fell on your chest after you sent that. Now his mom was involved in your relationship problems. She shouldn’t have to be but here you were.

Your notification went off causing you to pick up your phone.

Denise:

I’m sorry honey. I’ll talk to him. Maybe when we come back to England you both can fix whatever is going on.

You thanked her, turning your phone on silent before falling asleep.

-

Two weeks passed and it was the day Jude was coming home to England. You were kinda nervous. You promised yourself you would talk to him.

Around 12pm you decided to finally text him so you both could meet up and talk about what happened.

You:

Do you wanna talk?

You cringed at the dry text you just sent, but brushed it off when you saw how fast Jude texted you back.

Jude:

“yeah!

You:

Ok meet me at our old spot behind the field ❤️

You added a little heart not really thinking much of it, but to Jude that was major. A few days before he had got a good lecture from Denise about his words. She wasn’t happy about any of it. Even though Jude knew he fucked up he felt like he deserved that scolding he got from his mother. He shouldn’t have said the things he said.

Now he has a chance to really apologize to you and make things right.

Jude walked down stairs tucking his phone in his pocket. He slipped on his shoes before slipping out the door.

He made it to the spot before you seeing how close he was to it. It was a small field he used to play on, that’s where you caught his eyes for the first time.

Jude waited a good 5 minutes before you arrived. You walked up to him and he swear his breath got caught in his throat.

You sat down beside him.

“Hi.” You squeaked out as you avoided his gaze.

“Hi.. how have you been?” Jude asked you. “I’ve been ok. Been better.” You let out a small chuckle but not an amusing one.

Baby, I’m sorry.”

You finally looked at him and you wished you didn’t . He soft eyes filled with so much regret made you want to forgive him so quickly.

“I messed up. I called you shit you didn’t deserve. I said things I know I shouldn’t have said and I regret them and I know sorry isn’t going to cut it but just know I am ok.”

Jude reached over and took your hand from your thigh and intertwined it with his. The fact you didn’t pull away made him feel a happiness he hadn’t felt all week.

“ Jude you fucked up. You really fucked up. Your words hurt me deeply…” you sighed before continuing. “but I forgive you.”

“I wanna kiss you so bad.” Jude mumbled, his Burmmie accent thick. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. He really wanted to kiss you.

“im not stopping you Jude.”

Jude smirked. He grabbed your face kissing you. Two weeks without your lips caused him to kiss you hard. Teeth grazing each other’s, tongue meeting for a second as he kissed you harder.

Your fingers grabbed his shirt as you pulled him impossibly close to you. You missed him so fucking much. It’s kind of crazy how much you craved him. He was your drug.

Jude pulled away from you. His lips were red from your previous action making you laugh.

“come back to my house. I need you.” Instantly you knew what he was talking about by the smirk on his face.

“fine, but you’re coming over to mine. I’m not doing it with your parents home.”

You stood up, Jude following your actions. You both began your short journey to where you were staying at.

You both couldn’t walk faster than you were. It’s embarrassing how much you needed each other.

As soon as your front door closed Jude had your back against the wall. His hand gripped your waist pulling you against his hard on.

You moaned into his mouth, tongue fighting his for dominance. Ultimately Jude won of course. Even though you loved kissing Jude you needed more of him.

“Jude” you pulled away breathlessly. Jude lips fell to your jaw placing wet kisses there down to your chest. “Jude, I need you to fuck me.”

Jude pulled away from you and looked at you.

“Want me to fuck you huh?” all you could do is nod your head. Your sex ached for his touch, you needed him.

Jude lips hovered over yours “ok well you need to lead the way because I don’t know shit about this house.”

You snorted but took his hand guiding him to your room. Once inside the room Jude pushed you on to the bed. He slotted himself in between your legs then kissing you. You started to make work at his shirt, pulling it by the bottom so you could remove it.

“desperate aren’t you?”

You groaned. “shut up and take off the damn shirt.” Jude laughed before pulling his shirt off and tossing it somewhere across the room. His ab were now on full display making you pulse around nothing.

“now your turn,” Jude put his hand under your top, coming in contact with your bare breast. You were so happy you decided to ditch the bra. “take this shit off.”

No time was wasted as you pulled off the shirt. While you were at it you took off your jeans and so did Jude. You were both now only in your underwear.

Jude’s lips found your nipple, tongue insulting the sensitive bid making you moan. It didn’t help that Jude slid his hand down your panties and drew small circles on your cloth clit. You bucked Your hip up hoping to feel more but Jude hovered his hand over your sex so you couldn’t be satisfied.

“Jude!” You whined. Jude released your nipple from his mouth and muttered a fine. Jude climbed off the bed to the edge where he kneeled down. By your ankles, Jude pulled you down so that your wet cunt was reachable for him.

Soft kisses were placed on your inner thighs. Closer and closer Jude came to your pussy. Each time he did your breath hitched. You watched as Jude did his thing. He was enjoying this a lot. As he should.

His fingers fell under the waistband of your panties. With a tug they were off leaving you completely nude.

No time was wasted. Jude tongue softly came in contact with your clitoris making you moan softly. Jude kept going, drawing circling over your clit and lapping at your fold.

Your hands found their place on Jude’s head. Your back arched off the bed.

“fuck right there.” You cried out. Your loud moans filled the room. You were happy you were here instead of Jude’s house. There’s no way you would be able to hide what he is doing to you.

Jude tongue slipped into your hole before trailing back up to your bundle of nerve. He grunted at your taste. You were sweet like honey. He could be buried in this pussy for the rest of his life if he could.

“Shit Jude you’re going to make me cum.”

Jude didn’t stop after you said that. Instead he kept going faster. Few minutes later you were seeing white flashes as you came. Jude grip on your thigh was tight and he didn’t stop his movement in your pussy.

You were at the point where you were getting overstimulated.

“ok ok stop. I’m sensitive.”

Jude chuckled in between your legs. He lifted his head up giving you relief.

He placed a kiss on your tummy Before he came back up to your lips. His kiss was hungry, desperate if I may say. You could taste yourself on his lips making you moan.

“want me to fuck you huh? Want me in that wet pussy hm?”

All you could do is nod. Words couldn’t come to the surface as you watched Jude pull off his boxers and releasing his hard cock.

Jude stroked himself a couple of times. He wrapped his hand around your thigh, he lined up with your entrance.

Slowly he pushed into you stretching your walls. Jude’s eyes stayed on yours as he got deeper and deeper inside of you. You bite back a moan. You were starting to get nervous under his gaze. You both had sex plenty of Times but this time felt different. Maybe it was because of your argument or those days you spent apart from one another, but this felt different.

You creased the nape of Jude’s head. He was fully in you now.

“Can I move?” he asked at a whisper. “yes. Please move.”

Jude’s cock pulled out of you then slamming back into you effortlessly due to how wet you were. At first it felt painful but eventually it spiraled into pleasure.

Your moaned a fuck. Your toes curled at the feeling of him stretching your walls over and over again.

Jude face was now buried in your neck leaving kisses that was sure to leave hickeys.

“Baby you feel so good.”

“Yeah? You Like my cock in your pussy? I love being in this pussy, always so tight fo me.”

Jude lifted his head. A string of curse words left his lips as he drilled into you. You could have swore you were seeing stars. The amount of times he was hitting your g spot was driving you crazy. It sure didn’t help when he put your legs around his waist making a new angle.

You cried(more like screamed) out Jude’s name. You looked down in between you both watching as he entered you at lightning speed.

The burn in your lower stomach was starting to grow more and more as he fucked you harder. You orgasm was approaching.

Jude grunted as he felt your walls tighten around him. “your going to cum baby?”

You nodded.

“use your words.” Jude took your jaw in his face forcing your eyes on him. It made you pulse around him. “I said are you going to cum?”

“Yes.. shit! I’m going to cum. Please let me cum.”

Jude smirked at your pleading. He let go of your jaw and found your clitoris. Fast, he drew circles over it and that was all it took for you to orgasm.

You moaned loud as you threw your head back and arched your back. Jude wasn’t far behind, emptying his load into you.

He pulled out of you, rushing to the connected bathroom to get a towel and wipe you off. When he was done he laid down beside you on the bed.

“im sorry again.”

“jude I know. You’re apologize has been accepted especially since you gave me some orgasms.”

He snorted at your words.

He got up out the bed and began putting his clothes back on.

“my mom is making dinner tonight. You want to come over?”

“fuck yes. I miss your mom.”

Jude rolled his eyes as he pulled up his jeans. “but you miss me more right?”

You sucked in your breath. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

-

After you and Jude got dressed you both went over to his house. His mom was excited to see you both back together and most importantly the smile on Jude’s face.

At the end of the night you and Jude fell asleep in each other’s arms. It felt so good to be back in your man’s arms.

[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER EIGHT: MADE YOUR MARK ON ME

← prev chapter // next chapter →

✦ summary: in which you and eddie try to navigate the aftermath of the kiss (wc: 5.8k+)

✦ warnings — angst, ANGST, FINALLY SOME DESERVED FLUFF n then angst oops, a little bit of argument but v tiny, uhmmm smut, p in v, unprotected sx (wrap it up irl), lots of praises, kinda rough. body worshipping? idk. eddie and p are an old married couple, drinking, smoking/weed, thats it i think.

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — @andvys my angel thank u for all ur love & help💗🙏🏻 not proof-read i tried but i cant do it. pls ignore all mistakes. i honestly have a love-hate relationship w this chapter BUT ENJOY!!. also like... ily all for all the love on the last chapter omg?

anyway ily all pls interact + like + reblog to support me! i'd also LOVE LOVE to chat about anything abt this series, pls dont hesitate to send me an ask about anything mwah thank you for reading💗

series masterlist | series playlist

Minutes.

But it felt like hours. 

And you didn’t want it to be over.

Judging by the hold he had on you, calloused hands grabbing onto your flesh like a man-starved, neither did he. 

This was all he ever wanted. Ever since the day you flagged him over when your car broke down. Even when you were a bitch to him. Even when you rolled your pretty eyes at him. Even when you left him. All he fucking wanted was you.  

Always just out of his grasp, close but never close enough. And this? This was a dream come true. Fucking explosions and butterflies in your stomach type of shit that Eddie always mocked, that you always mocked. 

That scar in his heart that scabbed at the mention of you. Healed. All gone. One kiss from you and it was all back to normal. 

“Eddie!” A booming yell echoed in everyone else’s ears but you.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I swear I’m gonna kill him, Eddie where the fuck are you?” 

Was that… Gareth? 

If Gareth fucking ruined this for him, he was going to hang him by his balls, up on the wall, make sure he could never fucking—

“Eddie!”

And you pulled away, first, Eddie was going to fucking kill him now. A vivid torture method flashed across his mind. Even the adorable flustered look on your face as you drew a breath wasn’t enough to calm him down. 

“I—I think your set is about to-”

“Fuck the set,” Eddie spat, his veins still pumping with the need for you. Brain hazy, he was  never going to get enough of you, was he? A hunger that was never going to be sated. 

The lingering gaze was interrupted by Gareth, scoffing while he dragged Eddie away, ignoring the threats and the cusses that left his lips, the same gentle ones that were just stuck on yours, the sweetest taste, from the filthiest mouth. 

You really needed to shut your goddamn brain up. But how could you? 

His body was turned toward you, shirt stretched out—you did have a tight hold on him. Pale lips now a bit shiny from your candy gloss, stretched into the widest grin, eyes glinting with something you’ve never seen in him before. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

But it was beautiful. He was pretty. Tempting. 

-

You could barely comprehend Eddie’s words when his gaze on you was that striking. “We’re Corroded Coffin, thank you and goodnight.” Slipped past your ears, you didn’t care, you needed him. 

What happens now?

Lingered in your mind, you wanted him to rush to you like you’re in a fucking rom-com, lock your lips in a dizzying kiss, again, you didn’t fucking care. You wanted more. You needed more. 

You could feel the eyes of everyone, including Steve’s impatient nail-biting, dying to know what the fuck happened between the two of you. Yet they didn’t dare to ask you until Jonathan and Nancy had left since the rehearsal dinner was tomorrow. And ever since they were gone, Robin and Steve had been teasing you nonstop, trying to make you crack.

Clearly, something had gone down, and the co-dependent idiots had to know. 

“He looks like he’s going to eat you.” Steve hummed, making you roll your eyes at him.

You were about to give him a smart-ass answer, but of course, he didn’t let you. “I bet if I laid one hand on you, he’d end up here in seconds.” Steve barked out a laugh, Robin joining him as you threw them a dead-set glare.

“It’s not like that—we haven’t—he won’t.” Your frustration was interrupted by a grinning Steve.

“Oh, yeah?” Steve teased, his hand quick to brush away the strand of hair away from your face, fingertips gently brushing against your cheeks, making heat flutter to your cheeks.

“Steve!” you protested, your gaze widening as you chided him, while Robin playfully counted down from ten by your other side.

Steve ignored your protests, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into a side hug. You attempted to push him off with a scoff, but he was relentless. 

“Three… Two…” Robin's counting came to a halt, and your childish squabble with Steve ceased as a deep voice interrupted.

“Mind if I borrow her for a bit?” The metalhead’s gravelly voice cut through the air, his gaze shooting daggers at Steve, who only smirked, much to Eddie's obvious dismay.

“Eight seconds,” Steve murmured in your ear, you could almost feel his stupid smirk forming on your ear shell, prompting a huff from you.

“She’s all yours, man,” Steve chuckled, releasing his hold and retreating with Robin, leaving the two of you alone. Eddie scoffed at Steve's retreating figure before turning his attention to you. 

“What’s their damage?” His brows scrunched together as he watched Steve and Robin walk away, engrossed in their hushed gossip. 

“Do you have all day?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, earning a chuckle from him.

He liked this, he loved this, he missed this. Easy banter, shared laughter. 

“So… you goin’ home?” Eddie asked, nonchalant, like his heart wasn’t thumping in his chest each time you stole a glance at him.

You nodded, keeping it simple, almost avoiding his gaze. His exaggerated reaction, a spat-out “What?” made you giggle. A melody he could never have enough of.

“Well, the night’s almost over, so…”

“Come with me,” He muttered, amber gaze like silk as it connected with yours.

“Where?” 

“Mi casa es yours or whatever the saying goes.” He grinned.

With a huff, “Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you muttered.

“Why?”

“You know why.” You enunciated.

He raised a brow, “Enlighten me.”

“I—It’s late.”  

“So? That never stopped us before.” He shrugged, seemingly unfazed.

“Oh, c’mon Pinky,” he coaxed, “we never end nights this early, at least not until we’re a couple more joints in, smushed on the couch, putting on some old horror movie… I thought we were revisiting the past.” He hummed, puppy dog eyes staring at your soul. Shit. 

You shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.

“Are you really gonna say no to gettin’ high with me, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart.

A nickname you had heard so many times before. Yet, it was different, the way it rolled off his lips making you almost jump in place.

“Okay,” you gulped, physically. Fuck.

He grinned, taking you by hand, fuck all, while you waved a shy goodbye to Robin and Steve, who watched it all with an all-knowing grin.

“Pay up,” Steve turned to Robin with his palm in front of her.

Robin snorted, “No fucking way.”

“Trust the process, Robin. Trust the fucking process.” Steve huffed, watching the two of you leave hand-in-hand.

-

As the two of you entered the familiar house, the sight of it brought enough memories that made you feel light-headed, a repository of memories flooded in your mind. 

“Is Wayne around?” you inquired, breaking the silence that clung to the space. Eddie, leading the way, answered nonchalantly, “Nah. At his girlfriend’s.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait what? Wayne has a girlfriend?” You exclaimed.

“Uh-huh, Hannah.” 

“Oh! That’s great!” 

“Yeah, he’s having sleepovers with her like a fucking teenager, I told him to ask her to move in, but he’s too chicken shit,” he scoffed. 

“Oh, come on.” You elbowed him playfully, “Be nice to him, he deserves this,” you said with a smile.

He nodded in agreement, “He does.” Then turned to you. “You want anything to drink?” You shook your head. 

You didn’t know why, and you didn’t know how, but a shyness appeared within you, propping up your elbows as you leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him intently. 

With a shrug, he opened the fridge, taking out a Schlitz, gaze on you dangerous when he popped it open with his teeth, barking a chuckle when you squirmed at the sudden, sharp sound. 

“Fidgety much?” He grinned, that damn dimple taking its place on the corner of his mouth, making all sorts of warmth flush to your cheeks, making you feel so timid under his gaze. 

You could sense the cockiness radiating off of him, it was addicting, and it was making you feel more and more shy under him. Because both of you knew why you were here, at two fucking A.M., dismissing everyone else, flirting and bickering all the way home. 

Yet, since you entered the familiar trailer, you had been silent. Because you knew, you fucking knew that kiss changed everything. But this would seal it. Another step forward. A territory the two of you had never crossed before. 

And your mind was not being kind to you, screaming at you to stop, to run, to not fucking do this, because you’d end up hurt, because someway somehow he’d end up hurting too, but Eddie wasn’t having any of it. 

Your silence made him cockier and cockier, drawing you in more and more. And if he kept it up, you knew even your idiotic abandonment issues wouldn’t be enough to stop you from jumping on him. 

You wanted this, all your mind could replay was his fingers on that damn guitar, the way his mouth popped open that damn can of beer, the way his stupid plushy lips curled into a smirk. Shaggy bangs fell onto his forehead when he leaned on the counter, arms flexing with it. 

Stop fucking thinking about it.

“You gonna answer me or what, sweetheart?”

“Huh?”

“Jesus, you okay?” He asked, concerned, cornering you in the kitchen with his soft hazel eyes. 

Fuck. 

“Mhmm,” you hummed.

“You don’t seem okay.”

“‘M f-fine!” You answered too quickly and meekly for that to be the truth. 

“Don’t tell me you’re still mad at me.”

Yes. No. Yes. No. I think I crave you more than I’m mad at you, but I can’t let you know that, your thoughts swirled. 

“I thought—”

You interrupted all quippily, “Thought what? That kissing me would suddenly undo everything?”

“No…” He sighed, “I thought I proved myself to you.”

“You did, but that doesn’t undo it.” 

“Well, I forgave you.”

You scoffed. “You know forgiving me doesn’t mean shit if you bring it up every time I tell you  you did something wrong, right?”

Crossing his arms against his chest, “Can you blame me?” He muttered, almost defeated. 

“What would you do? If I up and left, would you just forgive me? Would you just trust me and act like it was all okay?” He tensed, words spilling out of his mouth like venom. 

And you narrowed your gaze, returning it back to him. “What would you do if I kissed Jason? I asked you that, yet you never answered. Would you still kiss me? Would you still write notes for me, knowing that Jason’s slimy lips were brushing—“

He was quick to wave his hands in front of your face, grimacing just at the thought. “Stop! Just fucking stop!”

“What, too much for you?” You spat.

“Of course, it’s too much for me! T—the thought of him, anyone, being with you… makes me sick to my stomach.”

“Good, then I think we’re even!” You suggested.

“Even?” He scoffed,  “Is that all you fuckin’ care about?” He retorted, making you huff, once again.

“God, no! I just—I just mean we both did fucked up shit and from this point on we either move on, or we never talk to each other again, which we can’t seem to do!” You snapped, that anger from before had disappeared though, the kiss had softened things. Softened you. 

“Okay, then let’s just move on!” He took a step toward you, getting close again. So fucking close. 

You took a step back, your back hitting the marble counter, yet you remained on your angry stance. “Fine by me!” You retorted, all hastily. 

“That’s fine by me too!” He agreed, towering over you, trying to one-up you. 

“Good!” And, of fucking course you returned the energy. Stubbornness is exactly what defined the two of you, babbling like a bunch of kids over nothing. 

Eddie didn’t hesitate to take another step toward you, this time, both his hands on the marble kitchen counter, fully cornering you, as he grinned. “Great!” 

And you were about to answer, about to one-up him, like he did with you… but then you looked at him, really looked at him.

Looked at how fucking close he was to you, and you shuddered a deep breath, getting caught up in your throat when it reminded you of the kiss.

And that’s when Eddie realized it. 

You weren’t really mad at him. 

At least not really, not since the kiss.

You were nervous… because he was standing this close to you. 

A piece of dangerous information for Eddie—someone who had been in love with you since you were teens, to acquire, because it’d turn him into an arrogant fuck in a matter of seconds—even more so than he ever was.

“Oh.” The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, he was grinning like a devil now. 

“What?” You furrowed your brows, trying to have that annoyed stance from before, but it wasn’t working. 

“Why are you looking at me like—”

He was quick to interrupt, face inches away from yours. “You’re not mad, at least not that much, you’re… nervous.” He grinned.

“N—nervous? Why would I be nervous?”

“Because of me.” That stupid smirk on his lips returned

“Don’t be ridiculous—”

“What happened to that Pinky who refused to talk to me today? Who told me we couldn’t do this? Did one kiss soften you up this much?” He quipped, making you scoff.

“You know what? You’re an asshole.” You sneered.

“There she is.”

“When did you become this cocky, Munson?” You narrowed your gaze.

“I was always an arrogant fuck, sweetheart. But I’d say the kiss helped, like a fuck ton, and you squirming now, too.” He shrugged, like what he just said was no big deal, like how close he was to you didn’t make you gulp nervously.

You almost gasped, offended, like it wasn’t the truth. “I’m not fucking squirming—”

“Look at you… shuddering a breath just because I’m this close to you.” He barked out a chuckle, gaze dangerous, dare you say… lustful.

“Fuck you,” You spat, feeling small under his bashful gaze, cheeks heating.

“Well, I’m trying sweetheart,” He was quick, you had to give him that, making heat grow everywhere in your body, but especially within your thighs now, fuck, he was smooth.

And you weren’t willing to put up a fight, or a front, you wanted—needed him. You couldn’t deny yourself him any longer, not even your commitment issues were enough to hold you off. 

“You’re s—such a little shit,” You stuttered, embarrassingly so. 

God, you wanted to wipe his smirk off by kissing him, you wanted to feel his honey-flavored lips on yours again, you wanted to feel his lips twitch against yours instead of the air.

And he was close again, all in your face, all you had to do was lean a little bit and his lips would be on yours.

“And you’re an absolute pain in my—” 

Fuck it. 

You fisted his stupid shirt, crashing your lips down to his, dizzying, just as magnetic as before, but needier. His lips still tasted the sweetest, yet mixed with the bitter taste of the beer on his tongue made you grow weak in the knees. 

You were about to open your mouth fully, to feel his greedy tongue on yours, but much to your surprise, Eddie pulled away, making you whine.

“Wait—” He faltered.

“What?”

“Do you want this?” He asked

“Yes!” Your voice raised an octave.

“Tell me you want this.” His gaze was serious.

“I do,” you breathed.

He scoffed. “No, I wanna hear you say it.”

“Eddie—” 

“I wanna hear you, or we can just pretend like none of it happened, I can forget the kiss we can just sit around here and—” 

I want to know if you’re in this as much as I am, is what he meant.

“Jesus you’re so fucking—” You scoffed, but he actually backed away, your eyes widening at him.

“W—wait!” You pleaded.

An awaiting grin sat on his lips and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“Of course I want this, Eddie. I’ve wanted you for five fucking years, I wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you—okay wait maybe that’s a lie because you really were annoying the first time we met but I wanted, no, I want you—”

His mouth crashed against yours, interrupting you in the best fucking way. His lips felt warm, hot almost. Skin burning everywhere where he touched you, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

“So eager, princess, already begging for me, hmm?” He taunted, making you roll your eyes in an instant. 

“Just shut up you, asshole.” He grinned, mouth crashing down on yours once again. Much more gentle this time, but rough enough to have your chests pressed together. 

His lips only left yours to be reattached to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses from your chin to your cheekbone. “‘M sorry, sweetheart, I just can help myself you’re so—” He mumbled, voice muffled by your skin. 

He lifted you up, strong hands meeting behind your waist in one harsh move, making you yelp before you wrapped your legs around him, he kissed you like he never had before, all teeth, and no mercy, passionate yet still gentle in somefucking way. 

He pivoted while trying to get to his bedroom, making you chuckle into the kiss, pining you against the wall, and it was all so desperate and messy. And just so you. 

You wanted to discard your dress but he wanted to rip it off, wanted to grab onto your flesh, and feel you, completely. Drink you in. 

He stumbled inside his room, knocking over a few boxes, and sending them over to the other side of his room. Not that either of you cared enough to break the kiss, at least until Eddie plopped you down on the bed, a grin overtaking his lips at the sight of you. 

“You’re so pretty, so fucking beautiful and just—” He took a deep breath, words were failing him, his entire being captivated by you. 

His mind was spiraling, cheeks almost a salmon pink. Eddie had sex countless times before, but none of them meant anything. None of them left him this speechless, none of them made him nervous. It was like his first time, the way his breath got caught in his throat, cock stirring at how pretty you looked, stomach fluttering at how he was on top of you. 

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this. How long I’ve wanted you… How perfect you really are.” He towered above you, and your breaths mingled, bodies tied, chests pressed against one another. 

You wanted to joke around and tease him like he did with you, but you couldn’t help the flutters in your stomach. All you cared about was whether he thought if all of that was. Did he really see you like that?

“You mean that?” You asked, almost shy, wanting to hide your face, but he just gave you a scoff, like it was the most unbelievable thing ever.

It was to him. 

“‘Course I do, Jesus, Pinky I basically worshipped—” He placed a soft kiss on your lips. “The ground you walked on.”

You drew in a breath, “I—I wanted you just as much.”

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned. 

“Don’t say things like that,” he warned, shaking his head. Did you not know the hold you had on him? Even still? He was wrapped around your finger, always has been. Always would be. 

“Don’t think I’ll be able to control myself.” 

“Then, don’t, please, Eddie, I want you, more than anything.” 

That was all he needed, low grunts escaped his lips. He attacked your lips hungrily, desperately, twirling his tongue with yours, needy and passionate. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, hands meeting behind your back to unclasp your dress, and you helped him get rid of his clothes, your fingers fiddling as they struggled to take his shirt over his head. 

It was all messy, stupidly impatient, making both of you giggle while you struggled to get rid of the clothes that were keeping both of your bodies away from each other. 

“So impatient,” you mocked with a chuckle, enjoying the way his eyes boggled your body, it wasn’t disrespectful, you didn’t feel the intrusion as you did with every other fucking guy you’ve been with. Just pure appreciation and your stomach flipped with excitement. 

Fuck, what was he doing to you? 

He drew in a breath when your chest rose up and down, he felt like he was watching a ping-pong match, eyes darting over to every part of your body, he wanted to engrave it in his mind. Have you there forever. 

He could barely comprehend it, you, stark naked, on his bed. Telling him you wanted him, more than anything. And you looked perfect. Fucking perfect. More than he could ever imagine. All those years he spent thinking about you. 

The girls he fucked were always a spitting image of you. It wasn’t a fucking coincidence. He couldn’t get his mind off of you. You made him feel out of his head, and fucking finally, it was happening. 

Cold rings ghosted over your chest, making you gasp. “So—” His head dove into your breasts, latching his tongue on one nipple. “Fucking—” His hand dove down to your panties, discarding them without care before he ghosted over your slit, still waiting for some approval from you. “Perfect—” He hummed, against your nipples, making you mewl. 

“P—please, Eddie,” you muttered, pathetically. 

His eyes shot up at you, amber gaze dark, wanting, needing you to tell him exactly what you needed. “Need you to fuck me, please.”

“Baby,” he rasped, jaw almost hung open with how forward you were being. His cock was trapped in his boxers, needing room with the way words fell like silk from your lips. The nicknames were new, especially something like ‘baby’ but it felt so familiar, like the two of you had always been like this. Like the last five years didn’t exist.

This was all the confirmation he needed, his ringed finger met your entrance, and you whimpered at the slight sensation, your entire body burned with need at his one touch. 

His soft lips trailed down from your chest to your belly button, tongue leaving nice strokes on his way to your pussy, making you arch your back in desperation. 

“Need more, Eddie,” you whined, a pout apparent on your cheeks.

“That desperate, huh?” He grinned, pad of his thumb still toying with your clit, earning gasps out of you. “Haven’t even done much, yet you’re soakin’ my fingers, baby,” he added, that taunting tone making you roll your eyes.

“Arrogant fuck,” your voice came out as a squeak, making him let out a greedy chuckle. 

He inserted a finger inside of you, enjoying the gasps he earned. “You know, I always thought that attitude of yours needed a fix?” He hissed, ringed finger curling inside of you, making you squirm at the coldness as you bucked your hips for more. 

You didn’t know what took over you, or him. The dirty talk just rolled out of your lips like it was natural like the two of you had been together for the longest time. 

It was all the pining, anticipation, and the pent-up desire. And it was making both of you needier by the second. 

“Then do it, fuck it out of me.” A low groan echoed in the bedroom, followed by a string of curses, Eddie’s entire body shuddering with it. 

His fingers left your clit, hands working their way to slip out of his boxers, a rough expulsion of moan released from his lips when his cock plopped against his stomach, making your mouth water at the sight. 

Shit, fuck, shit. 

You gulped, jaw almost wide open, making him cockier if that was even possible. His hands jerked at his cock, collecting the bead of pre-cum collected at his hot tip. “Gonna give this to you, is that what you want, sweetheart?” He taunted.

With a nod, you licked your lips, making his cock twitch in his hands. “I’ll fuck the brat out of you, don’t worry, honey.” His hand was about to stroke his cock again, but you were quick to shake your head. 

“Let me help,” you hummed, your smile and attitude all disappearing, a glazed look washed over your features as your soft hands fisted his length. 

“You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he groaned roughly when your fingers stroked his rock-hard cock, until he couldn’t take it anymore and pushed you down on the bed and taking you by surprise before his lips re-attached to yours, hands slightly parted your thighs, teeth clashed together, and nibbling on each other's lips, before he finally, finally guided his cock against your entrance. 

Then, he stopped, making you furrow your brows when he reached for his bedside table, and you, unable to wait, were quick to stop him. “No!” His attention snapped back to you. 

“Please… I wanna feel you, ‘m on the pill,” you murmured, pupils blown wide, making Eddie curse once again before he blabbed, nervousness spilling out of him. 

“O—okay,” He hummed, turning to you with a nervous look, “and just so you know I haven’t had—” Shit, he was going to ruin this. 

“I was tested not too long ago and me and Chr—”

“If you finish that sentence I swear to god, I will leave, Munson,” you warned, gaze narrowed and jealousy bitter in your veins. 

He scoffed, “I was going to say we haven’t done a—anything, you lunatic,” he wanted to joke, but words rolled out of his lips like a quick ramble. He couldn’t fucking ruin this. But, he had to let you know. You had to know that they didn’t sleep together.

And much to his surprise, with a grin on your lips, “Oh? I don’t know if I can say the same with me and Jame—” your joke was quickly shut up by a dizzying kiss, and his groan turned into a growl, filled with jealousy, making you giggle into the kiss.

Both of you were idiots. Total fucking idiots. Insane. Crazy. But, fuck, did it feel right, like dominos falling into place, this is what it should’ve been. 

He dragged you more toward the edge of the bed with his rough hands, finally guiding his cock to your entrance, wiping off that grin from your face, hunger taking over fully. 

“You think you’re funny?” He spat, and you nodded all sassily, “Laugh it up, doll. But once I’m done with you, you won’t even remember the names of those other douchebags, I’ll fuckin’ make sure of it.” His arrogance was back, and that smirk played on his lips, shutting you up once again. 

He pushed into you without a warning, making you cry out while your eyes squeezed shut at how good he felt. Your pussy wrapped his cock nicely, so warm and tight that Eddie had no fucking idea how he didn’t cum right then and there on the spot, a low groan escaped his lips. 

He dropped his head to your shoulder, frantic breathing escaped through his nose as he tried to adjust to how tight you were. 

Jesus, fucking Christ. 

He had to hold himself off. 

Your hands clawed at his back, enjoying the stretch while Eddie pushed himself inside of you at a slow pace, reveling in the way you mewled for him. 

Eyes already squeezed shut, mouth slightly open, lashes fluttering the more he drove his cock into you. You looked so beautiful. Ethereal. 

He was struggling to comprehend if this was all real. This entire fucking night. From the fight to the kiss to now. 

It was always back and forth between the two of you, but more real than anything he ever had. 

Pinky. 

His Pinky. 

He loved you, so so much, that his heart was about to explode, his body felt hot from everywhere you were touching him. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, sweetheart,” he hissed, pace picking up once you finally accommodated his size, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“Feels s—so good, Eds,” you whimpered. He caught your chin in his hands, tilting your face toward him, making your fuzzy gaze focus on him. “I’ve wanted this for so long. You, wanted you for so long, shit, honey.” 

“Tell me…” He muttered, licking the trail to your boobs, sucking on it with a growl. “Tell me that this changes everything. Tell me that we’ll never go back, and I’ll fuck you like you deserve it.” 

“E—Eddie,” you stuttered, still struggling to comprehend it when his cock was hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t know existed. 

“I…” You sucked in a deep breath, mind feeling mushy before Eddie groaned, tucking his hips back, pulling out of your warm pussy as you gasped at the feeling, just as you were about to whine, beg, he rammed himself deep inside of you, again. A grin appeared on his lips when you cried out in pleasure. 

Yet, his movements halted, as if he was giving you a taste of what might happen, and you wanted to cuss him out, tell him to never fucking stop again, cry out, beg for him to continue. Your body felt woozy with how much you needed him to fuck you, how much you desperately needed to cum. 

“Everything!” You cried out frantically, “E—Eddie, fuck, I d—don’t ever wanna go back, please…”

That was all he needed to hear. And he simply couldn’t wait any longer, deprive his body of you any fucking longer. His movements picked up with a low grunt, fucking into you roughly and fast, all animalistic as he held onto your hips, leaving bruises all over while he worked on your neck, sucking, marking you. 

Pleasure bursted through your body as Eddie’s thick cock dragged along your walls. Both of your eyes locked, emotions gathering in them. Panting as your foreheads connected, thinking the same thing. 

Those three little words begged to roll out of both of your plushy lips, yet too scared to ever utter them. His lips crashed down on you again, this time, just so that those three words didn’t escape his mouth, kissing you with such passion that your head grew light. 

“Pretty girl,” he breathed into your neck, “my pretty girl,” he growled. His cock was driven by a primal need to make you his, every touch meant something, every time he thrust himself into you, it was deliberate, rough, but gentle in some fucking way. 

Shallow breaths escaped your mouths in puffs, as you watched him drive his cock all the way into you, and you tightened up almost immediately, your pussy pulsing around him.

He groaned at the sight of you, mouth hung open, tits bouncing up and down, mewls coming out for him. You looked fucking beautiful, babbling to him about how you were going to cum soon. 

He pressed his middle finger to your clit, drawing quick circles as you whined for him, he was fucking good, and you could feel your walls swelling as you yelled out his name. 

Your screams were muffled by Eddie’s lips as a wave of pleasure hit you like a ton of bricks and the second you came undone on his cock, he fucking lost it. His groans grew guttural as he spilled his load inside of you, falling on top of you with a contented sigh as he made sure every drop of him was stuffed into your walls. 

Ragged breaths filled the room as Eddie slumped next to you, and you stared at the walls, a smile curved on your lips when the drawings you gave him were still there.

“You still have that?” 

“Of course.” His fingertips traced a delicate path along the canvas of your skin, gentle, and warm, pulling away that strand of hair that was hiding your pretty features, a smile formed on his lips, his gaze on you so soft that you almost melted into him. “I told you… your art matters, it’s the very reason, I am where I am.” 

As his words hung in the air, you looked up at him, and he gazed down at you. In that shared gaze, both of you knew. No words were exchanged, yet the depth of your connection bridged any gap.

Three words. Eight letters. 

You should say it, you should tell him first. Let him know, that you love him, always have, always will. Your lips, poised in anticipation, hovered let him now, to utter those words.

But he interrupted, a subtle pull drawing you closer into the cocoon of his embrace. “W—We should go to sleep… hell of a day ahead of us.” He cleared his throat, fingertips weaved through the strands of your hair, caressing it.

A day ahead of us. Us. Us. Us.

It’s promising, so fucking promising. Peaceful. Everything you asked for. Yet, it scared you, because it was good. All of it was almost too good to be true. 

But you wanted to shut that part of your brain off. No, because you weren’t going to ruin this for yourself again, you weren’t. 

You hummed into his chest agreeingly, the vibrations resonating into his chest, his scent enveloped you, fully, completely. 

And each gentle stroke of his fingertips through your hair was like a lullaby, making you give yourself into the security of his presence. It only took a handful of caresses for you to give into the sweet desire of sleep, nestled against his warmth.

-

You woke up next to a void spot in the bed. The morning sun burst through the lazily taped windows of Eddie's room, forcing you to squint against its intrusive rays.

A languid groan escaped your lips as you reluctantly left the warmth of the bed, lazily throwing on one of Eddie’s shirts as it hung well over your knees, making your way to the kitchen as you called out for him.

Silence greeted you.

You checked the fridge, hoping for a note, a hastily scribbled message, anything that might explain why he was gone. 

But nothing. 

At this point, your mind hadn't erupted into full-blown panic; there was no reason for it, or let your intrusive thoughts kick in, no, they were wrong, they had to be wrong. 

There was no way he’d leave you, he wanted this himself. He invited you over. 

And the two of you were supposed to go to the rehearsal dinner early. To help Jonathan and Nancy out. There was no way he’d just leave you like this.

Right?

Or maybe he regretted all of it and left in a panic.

You kept telling yourself the same lie until seconds melted into minutes, and eventually into hours.

And then, it finally dawned on you. 

Eddie didn’t leave a note because he didn’t want to see you.

He regretted everything.

That's why he left you.

[urautismdiagnosis]

Captain Barnacles my beloved (click for higher quality)

<reblogs appreciated :>

My glorious man, my most wonderful guy ever

random thoughts about him under the cut

Sob I'm so many years behind in octonauts episodes I'm barely scratching the iceberg lmso but my general vibe of octonauts above and beyond so far is that "Holy Sht Global Warming" and also My tiny Friends Have Grown!! Like dude I'm so proud of them all lol

Honestly to me the captain is just in his 30s, somewhere in there, idk what his role is in the found family (father figure?? big brother???) but honestly I adore his relationships with each of the octonauts (esp with dashi ahahhagugugh!!!! and peso too augdhbf Theyre so precious he's so proud of them) I love how he and tweak just get eachother and kwazii is just like His Favorite Little Guy??? and shellington, my god-

Like this guy just adopts everything in sight istg- <3

Im starting to realize that either my autism is blinding me or maybe he's autistic too and like??? Theater kid ahhh playing the accordion and bursting into song?? Mr "I am so full of obsession and love for all of this and all of you", Mr " I got my gup struck by lightning, my arm crushed by a clam, stung by a jellyfish, nearly attacked by barracadas, thrown around violently on the back of a wall, crashed into a sunken ship, and then nearly drowned and Hahaha Yes Im Fine did you all need anything?" LIKE SIR???

Also you just know he went out and got his whole nautical fit, with the hat and everything, and just went "oh crap I cant be the only one uhhhh" and then gave EVERYONE THE CUTEST FREAKING MATCHING HATS!!!

this guy had dreams and they're coming true and all his dreams are BEAUTIFUL-

also my partner was helping me figure out his design and went "omg am I just helping u make him a dilf" and I went "nah we making him a papi" and like damn cuz- sobbing can you tell the conversation happened at A Late Hour At Night.

i gave him a single lower lash this sticks out stylishly and totally didn't give him natural polar bear eyeshadow, I also like to think that he's somewhere on the aro ace spectrum but that might just be me projecting lol

ignore the pic of a compass I stole btw that doesn't matter

i think the design might still have some room for improvement so if I've made it this far lmk if u think it could use any fun touches

(also this guys body type KILLED ME it took me sooo many tries)

ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶦᵏ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵃʳⁿᵃᶜˡᵉˢ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ ᶦˢ ᵏᶦⁿᵈᵃ ʳᶦᵈᶦᶜᵘˡᵒᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᶦᶠ ᵘ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᶦᵗ, ᵇʸ ᵖᶦʳᵃᵗᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈᵃʳᵈˢ ᶦᵗ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᵛᵉʳʸ ˢᶦᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶦⁿᵗᶦᵐᶦᵈᵃᵗᶦⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳᶠᵘˡ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ. ᶜᵘᶻ ʸᵏ, ᵏᵉᵉˡʰᵃᵘˡᶦⁿᵍ…

i bet he misses bianca alot poor guy,

also here's my most cursed head canon: he's a polar bear and is often in very warm environments, so y'all think he just like.... cuts and thins his fur?

Im so sorry y'all but I can just imagine him at 2 am just crying next to a pile of his own fur because oh God this is so hard, I imagine the whole process of doing that to ur whole body routinely with tools that break is probably similar to the process of undoing protecting braids for folks who have afro textured hair, but I wouldn know personally I've just heard how much the process can be time consuming and be kinda tiring 0-0

Also I cant believe I haven't mentioned this yet but I think he's like 8 feet tall, which compared to most of his crew being at smallest 4.7 to 5.8 he's just huge compared to them XD. I tried to make like conversions based on irl animals and etc, but the captain is like literally The Tallest A Person Can Be. Like y'all know polar bears are The Largest and Tallest pawed mammals to exist??? like 13 feet tall irl

im just so proud of him he is so compassionate and supportive and cares so much about everyone and everything-

fanny pouch ahh belt

[kazumist]

WHEN YOU IGNORE HIM AS A PRANK .ᐟ

✩ — includes: various x gn!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 833. reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated !! i don't support this type of prank in any sort of way so pls don't think this is actually funny irl ;;

the one who panics and worries — !

thoma, diluc, zhongli, xiao, and cyno

he has no idea if he did anything wrong. did he do something to offend you? did he forget something you told him? there’s no clue. all of a sudden, you just started to act like he didn’t exist—as if you were total strangers, even!

thoma would pace around the room, his hand on his chin, and he would think of reasons why you should ignore him. there has to be a reason, right? it isn’t like you to just act like that. your relationship was fine when this happened, too! what could possibly be the answer? no matter how long he thinks, thoma will never get an answer to his problem. maybe kissing the pout on his lips away would help him forgive you for all of this?

diluc is confused. very confused, in fact. were you not up for any interactions? but he sees you conversing casually with sara from good hunter. that couldn’t be it. but diluc is… just very confused. he’d question what was happening, trying to piece your recent behavior together with the one you have now.

zhongli sighs at the thought of this situation with you. if you simply wanted a break from a relationship or if you had a problem with him, you could’ve just told him. his gaze lands on you as you talk ever so casually to hu tao, wondering if you still even remember that he too is in the same area as you. please console this man with kisses when the prank is over, he'll need it.

xiao is worried. he knows that he’s still trying to understand human emotions, but he didn’t know that you’d act like this. you chat with verr goldet like you usually do, but he doesn’t hear you asking for his whereabouts like he usually does. it makes him sad. were you getting tired of him? did you perhaps decide to leave so soon? but you would say that to him if you really felt that way. do reassure him that it was nothing and simply for fun (and that you'll never do it again, seeing as he was very worried).

although cyno was known for his jokes (to the people with whom he usually interacts, at least), he sadly did not get the idea that you were just pranking him. he gets a bit anxious, wondering if you were mad at him because of all of his corny jokes, which was a stupid reason, but it was still possible! he sighs helplessly when you tell him it's a joke and suddenly thinks, why didn't he think of that possibility?

the one who knows but plays along — !

kaeya, kazuha, childe, albedo, and alhaitham

he was quick to realize that this was all a prank, but would it be that bad to play along? he’s sure it wouldn't; any time spent with you is already worth it for him anyway. what’s so different about playing a prank?

kaeya stares at you as he looks at how you’re having fun talking to venti. you know he’s looking at you, and venti knows it too; he was in on the plan after all. but you don’t know if kaeya’s stare held jealousy, if it held hurt, or if it was just an overall blank stare. he'll get his revenge later, once he can finally have some alone time with you.

kazuha smiles at your prank; he had a feeling it was a joke. you are usually the one who approaches him, and he knows that you are never the one who’ll just leave him immediately. he sighs at you and plays along with your little prank. maybe your reaction to him knowing from the start would be more interesting than this whole thing.

childe was confused at first, but he soon noticed that it was a prank. you talked with zhongli over a cup of tea at a nearby table. he thinks of a way to get back, but honestly? just being really clingy to you will already make you regret this whole situation.

albedo is used to pranks and the like. but he certainly didn’t expect it coming from you. however, overhearing kaeya and klee talking about your prank in the headquarters of the knights of favonius, he sighed. he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he heard your name, and just by that, he was already invested in the conversation. but he wouldn’t want to see you so disappointed because your prank failed, so he ponders for a moment—it wouldn’t be so bad to play along in your prank for him a bit, no?

two can play that game for alhaitham. he ignores your presence as well, but he also observes your reactions to his actions while he's at it. but by the end of the day, he confronts you about it and gives you a small yet satisfied smirk when you admit that you were pranking him.

[myoddessy]

out with the old, in with the new | w2s/harry lewis

summary —new accounts, new lifestyle, new clubs every night. an insight into just what—and who—youtube's non-youtuber it girl got up to during her split from harry

*once again following the lead of @whoetoshaw and her bog universe's iconic breakup era ALSO, one of the twitter threads is rlly grainy and I'm sorry abt that, i couldn't properly fix it so you have to just zoom in on it 😭

2023, January

2018, July.

liked by zoeleonards, taliamar, masonmount, and 11, 824 others

yourusername lay all your love on me 🌻🍹☀️

tagged: zoeleonards, chloemitchells

zoeleonards london reality, greece fantasy 💔😞

yourusername ibiza couldn't come sooner!

wroetominter OMGOMG IVE DREAMED ABOUT YOU RETURNING TO SOCIAL MEDIA

ynfan omg shes glowing 🤩🤩

chloemitchells mykonos has never looked better 🤤😍😘

yourusername love u, lover girl 😘😘 ❤️❤️

2018, August.

liked by chloemitchells, tobjizzle, leahwilliamson, and 20,349 others

yourusername snuck behind a dj booth and had a blast, had a few more shots than I should've, fell more in love with my girls. ibiza, you will forever be famous 🍾✨️

zoeleonards it was nice having the hotel room to just myself and Chloe for a bit x 🤣🤭

ynfangirl DOES THIS MEAN THE MASON MOUNT RUMOURS ARE TRUE??

chloemitchells @ynfangirl who's that? never heard of him 🤷‍♀️

ynloverrrr it HAS to be true

freyanightingale beautiful girl ❤️

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

sidemenfav the way that her, freya, and talia still like each others posts and support each other 💔

liked by yourusername, taliamar, and freyanightingale

ynandharry tobi likes every one of her posts, too. they really are family no matter what 😭

2019, January

liked by pierregasly, zerkaa, mabel, and 30,568 others

yourusername we're able to have semi-classy girls trips, who knew?

tagged: zoeleonards

chloemitchells gutted I couldn't make it, I miss u two beautiful girls 😭❤️

yourusername CHLO!!! it wasn't the same without you, babe xx

zoeleonards I missed placing bets on who y/n was gonna make a move on 💔

yourusername IM NOT THAT BAD ZOË JESUS

chloemitchells yeah, give her some slack... it's usually placing bets on who's gonna make a move on her 😉

ynfanpage queen we need tips on how to live our best lives because you are teaching us all rn

yourusername 1) the only long term relationship you need to focus on is the one with yourself. 2) surround yourself with people you love and support & who will love and support you. 3) learn to not give a fuck what anyone else things because everyone's too busy in their own heads to care ❤️❤️

taliaminterr how is your life so aesthetic?? irl gossip girl vibes!!

yourusername babe trust my life doesn't look like this day to day, I only show the fun bits. rn it's 4am and I've got four day old greasy hair, dried mascara under my eyes (I watched UP without taking off my makeup first), and I'm eating cereal and drinking flat coke zero. I am not the standard you should aim for 😭😭

ynslover I love how open and honest she is about her content. she's actually such a good role model

liked by taliamar, freyanightingale, chloemitchells, and 19,519 others

yourusername apparently people think the party life in my photo dumps is my day-to-day? babes, if I can teach any of you one thing in life, it's that half the shit you see online is fake. half the 'candid' moments are staged, same goes for almost every picture you see. so here's a little dump of my actual reality

zoeleonards yeah guys she's actually so messy it's insane. it makes me want to move out

yourusername SHUT IT. zoë has about three different vases of dead flowers in her room because she forgets to take them out.

zoeleonards that's nothing on the old cups in your room

yourusername BLOCKING U

ynslover how does it feel to be the most relatable influencer ever even though you're not an influencer?

taliamar omg you've still got the vinyls!!

yourusername ofc, babe! I needed something to remember our days of charity shop hopping

2023, January

[velvetvexations]

I got this comment on my antigonism explainer and I asked for permission to address in it's own post because I think it's good feedback:

I appreciate your support of transmasc and transnull people more than you can ever know. I, however, think coming up with a phrase that distincts “transmasc friendly transfems” is deeply divisive- and will further the divide and discourse between transfems and transmascs We don’t need a speciality phrase to denote people who are friendly towards us since those that are AGAINST us are the loud minority- the majority of real world trans people (transfems especially) are in unity with transmascs I think that this may just worsen the divides that are already starting to exist, and will further perpetuate discourse where it isn’t needed. Transfems can just say they support transmascs and transNB people, you guys don’t have to come up with a special title. I mean this all with the upmost love and sincerity. Transfems who support transmascs are the majority of transfems, yes there is an issue with TIRFism online But that is not the majority of transfems on the internet- and especially in real life. We should be focusing on greater unity and talking about what makes us similar- not dividing ourselves even more into subcategories to be policed or pointed to. From a transnull who is just as deep in this discourse

I'm thankful for your perspective and that you've given thought to the issue, and wanted to share your thoughts in a way that I feel is really sweet, which as someone with NPD I appreciate a lot. This is something that's been expressed to me about the idea previously.

I disagree, though. Are transfems who support transmascs and other non-transfems the majority? Yes, absolutely! But when the vocal minority is as loud as it is, they need to be loudly shutdown. That kinna thing takes megaphones. They're going to go away on their own and I want there to be a way to take an active stance that throws oneself out there as someone opposed to that shit.

Already it's just taken as a given that transfems are all TRFs.* If we don't go further, we're letting the vocal nature of the minority take up more and more space and become more and more accepted. Because like, they are super aggressive about it. These things get spread around on posts with thousands of notes every day. TRFs do nothing but bitch about non-transfem trans, intersex, and GNC people, and in doing so make spaces an increasingly less safe place for them.

And the signaling is a really important issue too. A lot of the responses to antigonism from transmascs in particular have been saying that it makes them feel safer. I've gotten messages from people who feel really bad about the paranoia trans radical feminism has caused them to feel around transfems they don't know, and that sucks! I'm so not interested in dismissing that as people who need to be less online or something, especially since I've heard a lot of stories of IRL spaces being hostile to any expression of masculinity as well. These are people who are, at best, facing a massive bullying issue, and at worst being driven out of the trans community entirely. It's cruel and I'm not going to shame them for having this expectation hammered into them, especially because I've also constantly been let down over and over and over when I see a post about transmisogyny or the transfem experience that I really like, only to be gravely disappointed when I see they're a TRF. It constantly happens. It sucks. It sucks so unbelievably much.

Hell, a lot of TRFs are self-identified TMEs, and in fact, most of them are! Every time they do one of their polls trying to prove some dumbass point, it's overwhelmingly "TMEs" who respond. It's like, a relatively small number of transfems kicking around a little cult of sycophants, many of whom are weird as fuck in their own ways but also many who are just trying to be good allies. They should also be signaled to that, hey, when I tell them they actually didn't need to drop a headcanon of a character that gave them joy because a transfem said so, I'm not the freak anomaly I get painted as. Like, I've responded to things asking if something so not an issue was transmisogynistic, or what the problem with TMA/TME was, only to immediately have multiple TRFs zoom into the replies like "don't listen to velvetvexations, she alone has those opinions because she hates all other transfems."

And what about transfems who also need to have it made clear TRFs aren't normal, too? Who need to be gently caught before they get indoctrinated into this shit?

When you see a trans woman saying she thinks it's bad to call non-binary people slurs, identifying as an antigonist gives the messages she's not a random confused baby bird brainwashed by Big Transmisogyny to hate her sisters. She is just one of many who feel that way.

And like, is making it a "faction" like that divisive? I don't think so because holy hell, this discourse is already divisive and toxic as fuck. The intense vitriol that gets thrown at one side from another is already radioactive. What's going to make things worse than it is now? TRFs will have to put up with seeing that other transfems are enthusiastic about disagreeing with them? Those other transfems will feel an us vs. them mentality regarding radical feminists?

A friend of mine put it really well last night:

it isn’t enough to just be ‘normal’ about transmascs and intersex people, actually you do need to be actively working against the now baked in harmful ideologies that have gained traction

I don't want to be normal about these things, I want to be actively anti-transandrophobic, actively anti-intersexist, etc. in a way that sends a clear message to everyone. Being normal about these issues is only normal until it isn't. And even if it forever remained a minority with no threat of growing larger than it is today, TRFs should still have the door slammed in their face until they learn to play nice. If transfems who are Normal really are "normal", then make TRFs feel like pariahs rather than having the unmitigated gall to declare that transmascs invented the transmisogynistic concept of transandrophobia because "2024 is the year transfems united under the banner of transfeminism."

Should we let them have that, and just say oh, well, it's obviously intuitive we're the normal ones and they're the weirdos, we can just quietly continue to consider ourselves the default model of transfem while radical feminism continues to cause more and more division entirely on it's own?

*not that they use that language

anyone may reblog this!

[spacemonkeysalsa]

I read about an evil magistrate in another Faerûn city, a few decades after Astarion had that job in Baldur's Gate and it has me thinking about his pre-vampire days, and my irl time as a Las Vegas law clerk. A lot.

Full disclosure: I feel a little guilty that I wrote so much on this topic rather than on one of my fics.

I wrote very little in July 🫣but it's because I was drawing and reading instead.

I read 13 books, but they were the first 13 Legend of Drizzt books.

And while writing fic, I've avoid details about Astarion's background as a magistrate, for reasons I've talked about a lot before, but I might need to rethink that, because one book in the Drizzt series just gave me SO MUCH context for what the world was like around the time that Astarion would have had this job, and also, what that job was like, and how it was very effected by geography and race. And I have THOUGHTS. Thousands of words of thoughts, apparently, below the cut.

TL;DR - The popular idea that pre-Cazador Astarion is the biggest possible asshole so he "earns" his fate is boring as hell, not actually supported by canon, or the examples of magistrates that we see in FR (who don't even need to be corrupt to satisfy cruel inclinations) and I deeply prefer going in a totally different direction. Below the cut is me working through my headcanon, and why I came to these conclusions.

I tagged this appropriately I think, but to emphasize, topics of relevance include horror movie tropes, torture, the deeply flawed American justice system, and the even more deeply flawed one in Faerûn as described by the Forgotten Realms novels I've read and the mentions/demonstrations in Bladur's Gate 3.

If you feel you need to avoid thinking about all of that, you are valid, and probably more correct than me for doing so.

And as always, it's just my opinion, based on my experiences. All headcanon is equally headcanon.

To start, I'm going to briefly reiterate that:

Astarion's canon backstory is thin on purpose and that all we really know about him is that he was a magistrate with not-red eyes who made an unpopular ruling that was unpopular for an unspecified reason and got jumped by Gur for a (heavily implied to be unreliable narrator influenced) reason.

That artbook is a developmental tool that is actually less likely to ever be considered canon than even a later stage developmental tool like a full manuscript outline precisely because of its position in the process.

But, before I get into what I read in Drizzt, I want to establish that my head space started from thinking about how much sadder it is if Astarion actually did have compassionate ideals and a balanced sense of justice prior to Cazador. The reason I think it's sadder is best illustrated by the choice to either make a doomed horror movie character sympathetic or an asshole. What happens to Astarion is basically a horror show, and some people prefer those fates are reserved exclusively for asshole victims. There's reasons to write this way, and it can be done well, but it's very easy to make it feel cheap and contrived and it's usually a sign of an amateur production, and a quick way to make an accessible film rather than a good one. Another option (which can also be done well or done poorly) is to harm characters who did absolutely nothing wrong.

To be clear, whether or not we like a character doesn't affect whether or not they "deserve" death. Horror movies often deal with totally disproportionate consequences, and the gruesome fate not really being "earned" can be an inherent part of the horror regardless of our sympathy.

But, I'm not sad when the evil teenagers in Toxic Avenger are killed. I am not that sad when Jigsaw's traps prove to be too much for his chosen victims. What happens to Julia's marks in Hellraiser doesn't move me as much as what's going on with Kirsty, even if they didn't deserve it, because they aren't particularly sympathetic.

And the thing about using characters like that is that it's not realistic. And to be clear, I don't think you always have to be realistic to tell a good story, in fact, please don't always cling to realism. But realism in characterization is usually a stronger choice, and should be considered generally. Most people are not as flat and unsympathetic as the asshole victims in slasher flicks. Even people who do bad things are not so one dimensional as to instill no sympathy in irl humans. I think people like to flatten Astarion in their mind, so that they don't have to confront the fact that very bad things happen all the time, and that most people didn't do anything to earn a horrible fate.

In the specific case of what happened to Astarion, even if he was a bad person, it's very difficult to ever make 200 years of torture, the loss of autonomy, exploitation on every level, including physical, sexual and psychological abuse, ever feel proportional. So at this point, some people need something to make it seem more just. Either because they hate the character, and want to feel that hating the character is objectively correct, or their worldview includes an idea of justice that can't accept such disproportionality.

And if you need that for your headcanon, dope. you're allowed whatever headcanon you want.

The "corrupt magistrate" thing isn't canon. It's headcanon. I understand that some people who really seem to know what they are talking about said it was canon, that's because they are wrong. People are wrong sometimes.

I recently became aware that although I thought we were all playing the same game, a bunch of players have never seen what I've seen, because it's all missable content. And, because everyone knows there's a bunch of stuff they haven't seen, it's real easy to just believe any random person on the internet who tells you something is buried deep in the game that you don't know about.

This specific situation with Astarion's canon backstory is that you'll never find much in the game, no matter how much you play, because there's nothing to find. Here's the facts: -There was never anything about Astarion being corrupt in the game, in early access, or in any of the writing that made it to recording. It was an idea that was discussed very early on---like back when we almost had a werewolf companion, (RIP Helia, you would've loved what I put you through) and they went in a totally different direction. Essentially, just imagine what they ultimately ended up doing with Gortash, and know that they were thinking about doing something similar with Astarion, but a long, long time ago.

-In the game, he'll lie and tell you he's a magistrate in Baldur's Gate and that it's tedious.

-Or, if you wait to ask him about himself until after you know he's a vampire, he'll tell you he was a magistrate, punishing troublemakers.

-Backstory complete!

-Art books are great, and beautiful, and it's baffling to me to see fans treat them like canon content, because if anything, they demonstrate various attempts to put together a story that ultimately didn't land for the creators. I love using materials like this when I write, I create character sheets and artbooks for my work all the time, and part of their charm is the features that didn't make it into the final work. Minthara is no longer an elven cleric, Shadowheart isn't covered in tattoos, and Astarion isn't one of corrupt elite of Baldur's Gate, or even elite, or a courtesan. Stop bringing up the artbook, you're embarrassing yourselves.

-There's actual explicit dialogue in game in which Astarion says he doesn't remember much from before he was turned. He says the person he was is gone, nothing left but a name on a rock. That's what's intentionally in the game. I think this is brilliant, because I think his character represents loss in a really poignant way, and that if they included anything too detailed about who he was before he got turned, that would undermine this theme, in a way that's especially unnecessary. It's better to keep it purposefully blank. A void of nothing. I'm actually really surprised that they didn't do this for Shadowheart, given that she's a Sharran, but in her story, we actually see a really nice counterexample: she does recall small details about her time in the city. Coming back there triggers memories and if you find all three of them---[spoiler deleted, please message me if you want to know about this, I've been informed I shouldn't just shout this out, because some people like to discover this stuff on their own. But also I'm not a gatekeeper, if you really want to know, I'm happy to tell you]. There's none of that for Astarion, in fact, if you go to the cemetery looking for his grave, which is something I think a lot of us did, you won't find any mention of him anywhere, but you will find one of those Shadowheart memories if she's with you. You only get to see Astarion's grave briefly, if you're romancing him, and even then, he once again takes the opportunity to talk about the person he once was truly is lost to him (and to us) and gone forever, long before we ever had the chance to know him.

It's tragic, and kind of perfect.

And in the meta of all this, it's intentional that we'll never known him. We might think we do, but we literally can't, because it's not in the story.

Which is good because it would ruin the scene a bit if he'd been like "btw I was a real piece of shit lmao." Just like it kind of ruins the affect of the empty backstory to go ahead and add a backstory.

But. We're curious, we speculate, and we expand, that's what fanfiction is for—it exists outside of the canon. I usually write post-canon, canon-consistent content, but there's a possibility I'll need to add a few scenes from Astarion's mortal life in this one fic—maybe not, idk—but in preparation for maybe doing that (or not), I had considered working through what I think his life was life before he was turned, and the events leading up to Cazador capturing him. I wasn't sold on the idea, but I was thinking about it.

And, then I started reading Spine of The World, which features an actual magistrate from DR 1365. This one is um. Corrupt. Or, at least, we would consider him to be corrupt? He's actually doing his job perfectly according to the very messed up justice system in Luskan, where he works. They don't have a concept of burden of proof there, or of innocence at all after you manage to get yourself arrested, and instead essentially just torture people to death publicly and explicitly for entertainment. It's not chill. It's not subtle. They call it Prisoner's Carnival.

This magistrate has Astarion's exact job, in a different city and a few decades later (and those differences matter, we'll get to it) but the important features are the same. So, here's some things to note: being a magistrate is a position of limited power, you have total discretion over the prisoners given to you for punishment (minus a few notable exceptions that come up in Spine of The World), but that's it. It's not like an influential political position of respect or anything. It can't be, because they are beholden to laws they can't change, and cultural traditions that are non-negotiable parts of the community.

This guy is referred to multiple times are a carnival barker. And there's loads of magistrates, they all have different reputations and and ymmv on how sadistic they individually are in Luskan. In a later book, when this particular magistrate is brought up again to another magistrate in Luskan, it's clear that the carnival barker thing isn't entirely universal and that he's considered one of the really bad ones, but regardless, they all acknowledge that what he does is legal and "serves a purpose" and they all direct and orchestrate the torture and slaughter of prisoners, and they all admit that many of them are probably innocent. The magistrates, and more importantly, the people in charge of them, maintain the necessity of the system, and the fear it instils to keep troublemakers in line.

One of the more reasonable and intelligent wizards in the series (a guy called Robillard who I can't help but envision as Gale of Waterdeep, because almost everything he does and says makes him sound like Gale of Waterdeep) shocks Drizzt by defending this system of justice very passionately.

Actually, Drizzt's thoughts in general about the Prisoner's Carnival are S-tier Drizzt musings, I love a man who keeps a journal. Likes cats too. Drizzt is lovely.

Drizzt also notes that this is a popular system in human societies specifically. Other races don't go in for it so much, and tend not to participate unless it's as... um... you know... as the prisoners being tortured. I think it's interesting that he mentions that elves in particular (in his experience) are universally disgusted by it. It's also explicitly stated that Baldur's Gate is different, and a much preferrable place to get tried by a magistrate. That isn't in his journal entry though, that's earlier in the novel. A moment of foreshadowing.

The whole world is brutal, but Baldur's Gate is a bit more modern and open to change than other places. That's probably one reason it keeps getting featured and mentioned even though we've barely spent any time there in Drizzt's series so far. It's a bit more relatable a place to actually live in long term than somewhere like Luskan, where you may have to seek out real estate that's far enough away from the square that you're not constantly hearing the death screams of someone being drawn and quartered in front of a cheering crowd. So that's the basics of it, and getting back to Astarion and the backstory that I would personally novelize for him, we have options:

If I'm going to try to fit this into the context that I now have though, it's important to keep in mind that 1) Baldur's Gate is considered one of the "nicer" places to be tried and 2) culturally, elves don't go in for cruelty, especially not as systemic "justice." None of this has to apply to Astarion, but if I'm writing it, I'm not going to ignore this cultural context. At a minimum, I'm going to say that appointing an elf as a magistrate in a city that's known for being more progressively compassionate about their treatment of prisoners was probably pointed on the part of tptb. Baldur's Gate wanted him to set an example for these bloodthirsty humans about mercy and justice and the balance between them. Racism dictates that you don't go to a human for that. They're carnival barkers. If you want a more compassionate magistrate, appoint an elf. And from there, we get to decide whether or not Astarion met their expectations, or if he defied them. Because maybe he was an asshole. Maybe he was just as bad as his human magistrate counterparts. That's not outside the realm of possibility at all, there's an argument to be made that we write him as a counterweight to the stereotype. Astarion is written to be capable of anything, so you can literally go in any direction with his disposition.

But, considering how Cazador rages that he "made" Astarion, and Astarion doesn't even argue with that sentiment. I think it's more likely (and loads sadder) if this unmaking and making included a complete and total overhaul of Astarion entire sense of justice. I actually think the harsh sentiments that Astarion expresses at the tribunal in Ansur's trials are a really good example of the flickers of Cazador and the person he twisted Astarion into, than they would ever be indicative of who he was before getting turned.

That guy's gone, remember?

And if it's not obvious, I'm going in that direction with my fanfic. I'm going to say he actually thought he could help his community. He studied. He got this civil servant position. It was a bit disillusioning. It's better in Baldur's Gate than in other places, but the system itself is cruel, and he's rewarded for being cruel within it. It doesn't even matter that he originally got the job because they hoped he would be a compassionate elf judge amongst bloodthirsty humans, once he's actually in position, it's all about maintaining the status quo. That's what they actually want from him, in spite of their "progressive" leanings.

If anything, he's getting in trouble, and getting noticed by not quite being status quo. A soft-hearted elf, letting his charges get away with all kinds of mischief. I'd write him this way, because I think it then easily follows that Cazador takes note of him and targets him, precisely because he's too merciful. It's annoying.

And, little bit about me, I'm an attorney, and early on, during and right after law school I worked for a few judges.

If Faerûn is anything like the USA I figure that after a few years he has figured out that being a magistrate only gives him a limited amount of discretion and authority over the specific individuals who are brought before him.

It's really legislation that makes a difference and he is specifically forbidden from that. He rules from the bench, and hopes that if he's consistent and fair, and if nothing disastrous results from his rulings, (and if he doesn't get reversed too often, idk if that's a thing in Faerûn but it's a thing in America) then maybe he could eventually influence those who do legislate, but like, that's not his job. And it's going to take a long time because most of it's quite tedious and people don't pay attention unless it's someone they care about standing before him. Nobody cares about the vast majority of these people. His job is to stare at "troublemakers" who have supposedly broken the law, hear witnesses and confessions and denials and lies and decide what the truth is, and decide what's fair.

And it's emotionally heavy work. A lot of people describe being a magistrate as a political position, and that's not incorrect, but there's a valley of difference between Astarion's very hands on job, and what Gortash/Duke Ravenguard do. You are beholden to powerful politicians (like actual politicians) with a lot more influence who figured all this out long before they made the mistake of having ideals or believing in anything, or taking a job in which they would have to a) actually work with people to probable burnout and b) inevitably make a lot of people very angry regardless of what they did.

But, Astarion is still young, he's still got energy, he's not lost himself yet, he thinks he can handle this responsibility and he's wrong.

One day, someone is brought before him. This person is Gur and has supposedly broken the law. Other Gur are upset about the way Astarion ruled. He was way too harsh, or maybe he wasn't.

Quick sidebar: in court, I have watched people literally receive the death sentence and have zero reaction. Same with life w/o parole and other life ruining sentences. In my experience, what triggers an emotional reaction and anger targeted at a judge isn't the severity of the sentence, it's how the severity of the sentence stacks up against their expectations. The defendants (or their families, with proxy outrage) who get really angry, who try to attack the judge, or the ones who are so disruptive that we have to call it and go wait in the hallway while the baliffs calm things down, all have one thing in common: they legitimately thought they were going to just be sent home. They didn't think they were going to be held at all. For that reason, I actually saw a lot more rage from people who had committed minor offenses, because they didn't think what they had done was that big a deal, showed no remorse, ignored their atty, made no effort to express any respect for the law, or any victims, and then when the judge just decides to go with whatever the statute says, in light if zero mitigating factors, the defendant hears "60 days" for the very first time and assumes that the judge just made that up and hates them.

And like, I know it's fiction, and I'm speaking on a very niche experience that most people can't relate to. It's unlikely the writers had anything (let alone realism) in mind at all when they decided to be as vague as possible in the details about a character who embodies "loss" as a concept. I think they were vague because of the theme of loss. I think they were vague because of the theme of loss. I think they were vague because of the theme of loss. I think they were vague because of the theme of loss. I think they were vague because of the theme of loss.

But this sidebar is just to explain why whenever someone says "well he got beat to death for it so his ruling must've been racist and harsh" my knee jerk response is "not necessarily."

And sidebar within the sidebar: if I was going to fully novelize the story, I would actually go in the direction of having the ruling in question be uncommonly fair. I might hint at some racism though—nobody really talks about it below the surface level obvious stuff that's in the game, and part of that is because information about the Gur as a people isn't super accessible. But there is information, and synthesized: racism against the Gur seems pretty standard, especially for an elf who has had it up to here with human bullshit generally. Especially during that time period. He probably didn't have a good opinion of the Gur in life.

But, I have to assume that his animosity towards the Gur that we see in the game was at least affected by the fact that they beat him to death, and then, he spent two centuries as an undead being that they kill on sight with absolutely no justification needed. Like. I don't think it's wild to suggest that. I'm actually very confused by how much people push back on the idea that this could be responsible for his attitude, in part. And that's as far as I have combed through all this so far. Idk how much of it will end up in fic, but it's my personal headcanon now.

I love horror movies. I have watched so many of them it's embarrassing. My letterboxd is embarrassing. I do love several horror movies that feature asshole victims, but as I look at my very favorites, I'm noticing a pattern. I like to feel hurt. I like it when a movie doesn't shy away from dealing out universal, apathetic and disproportionate punishment to everyone. I can't think of anything quite so sad as seeing a perfectly normal, maybe even morally progressive person with their whole life ahead of them, and choosing to unmake them and twist them into a broken puppet in your own image. Sparing/saving no one and nothing in the process. Just make them lose everything, including their entire sense of who they are.

So, I'm going to hurt my own feelings with my Astarion headcanon.