#like the way tom handled everything was perfect

[ilikekidsshows]

This is a longer one, sorry 😅

About that ask you replied to about Marinette's parents. I didn't grow up in a healthy household and i struggle to form a properly informed opinion on Marinette's parents in all this mess.

Cause clearly they are very loving, caring, and supportive, but they aren't perfect either. They are realistically human. They have blind spots, didnt actually RAISE her apparently when she does things wrong, and hardly give Marinette any boundaries or consequences to face, which now evolved into her neither being able to handle anything not going her way nor having to actually take people into consideration and go through with improving on the things she said she should.

Im pretty sure Marinette was a very friendly child who didn't cause too many problems, if at all, so now that she's a complicated teenager who actually needs some boundaries and discipline they dont know how to handle it. Thats the picture im getting. Not to mention that they don't know Marinette is Ladybug so they have no idea what's caused all these extreme changes in their daughter and how to accommodate to properly help her.

But in my eyes, without the whole Ladybug thing, this is still a pretty normal and realistic portrayal of a modern family, so Marinette is simply a normal ass kid. She's clearly spoiled to a solid degree and emotionally shielded the way most middle class kids from central Europe are. Just because her family isn't perfect doesn't it mean she's being abused or her parents are bad. For me, they are a realistic healthy family. Whatever faults her parents have are pretty common things parents do wrong.

But this now raises the question for me how exactly to go about Marinette's family. Obviously her parents didn't to everything right in their parenting, so those flaws of Marinette can be traced back to them while Marinette at the same time SHOULD normally STILL be asked to grow out of it the way any normal teenager should, it's just slightly more challenging.

But then I see discussions that take it way too far imo but I don't know where exactly to draw the line.

It is correct that Tom and Sabine for example seem to know very little about their daughter's friend group to the point that they just let Sabrina into Marinette's room. The common argument I see being raised here is that Sabine is neglective because she doesn't know that Sabrina isn't Marinette's friend.

Now this doesn't feel quite right to me. Marinette's parents seem to be pretty much unaware that their daughter was bullied in school which unfortunately isn't at all uncommon. When the parents are neither told by the child or the school, then how are they supposed to know? The most they seem to know is that Marinette has a hard time with Chloé, but I never had the impression that they know how serious this was. Marinette sure was never shown to ever voice any of that.

So Sabine thinking Sabrina is Marinette's friend is a fair enough assumption in my eyes. I remember back when I was 12-13, forming friendship in a collective class is alot easier when you're a kid. Kids just go with the flow like that and become friends in 10 seconds even if they aren't spending much time with each other directly. Forming connections tends gets more difficult as one grows older.

I don't think at that age parents can be faulted for not keeping track of all their kid's friendships. Sabrina running up to Sabine and claiming she's Marinette's friend and Sabine believing her is honestly nothing too special.

What I take issue with, though, is that Sabine just let Sabrina go into Marinette's room ALONE. That a parent, imo, truly shouldn't do.

And yet, one still wouldn't call her a BAD parent for that, right? It's very flawed, but obviously Marinette also continues to rely on her parents doing that with the amount of times Alya just gets to come and go however she please, even with Marinette not being there, despite Marinette knowing Alya merely year at this point. Way less than Sabrina for example.

There is this persistent grey area here that I can't quite place. Marinette's parents are very obviously very trusting, but the way the show portrays it seems to border on neglective imo, but it's based in their daughter just getting free reign most of the time so Marinette can do shit in her room and leave for long periods of time for example that parents should normally check on their kids for.

So, at the same time, is it actually neglect? Thanks to being Ladybug, it is Marinette who has pulled more and more away from her parents and since season 4 is doing so to honestly very unnecessary degrees. There is little reason for why Marinette constantly locks herself and Alya into her room and doesn't spend much time with her parents when all that Marinette is doing in there is panicking and not doing something actually productive most of the time anyway. You may as well just spend time with your parents instead of crying to Alya that you supposedly CANT (while taking over Alya's life and being the actual reason why SHE cant)

Teenagers at Marinette's age starting to pull away from their parents is nothing uncommon. So I'm pretty sure that's just how it looks like for her parents. Marinette is starting to grow up and doesn't prioritize spending time or sharing her life with them as much anymore.

Can't pretend like that's not a sad truth parents have to deal with, so the kid's friends are trusted by the parents to know their kid in ways they don't anymore.

Marinette has very loving and caring parents who don't push her to involve them or share what she doesn't want to. Now here is the question. While this is neglective to a degree and Marinette does seem to be affected badly by it, is this necessarily something her parents are doing objectively WRONG? From their perspective, their daughter is growing up and so busy that they aren't much of a priority in her life. She's pulling more and more away and her parents try to adjust to that supportively without being given context as any parent must.

Clearly the created distance has Marinette now incorrectly believe that her parents aren't actually a real support system anymore, the way Marinette didnt even try to reach out in Kwamis Choice and her thinking she has lost EVERYTHING at the end of season 4 and then proceeding to act like she doesn't think she truly has anyone or anything in season 5 too.

Now, is Marinette thinking that she has NOTHING at the end of season 4, and still seeming to think so in season 5, something her parents failed at teaching her better?

When a kid starts pulling away from their supportive family, because they are so used to having them, and ends up convincing themselves that their parents dont count anymore as support because it isnt as perfect and easy as they'd like, is this a failure of the parents for not sitting their child down to remind them that the kid isn't the emotional equivalent of an orphan now the moment they have to do something alone?

Or is this simply a normal thing a teenager has to realize on their own? That just because the loving parents aren't a perfect support system anymore, doesn't it mean the kid just gets to disregard them fully as an option the way Marinette constantly does?

Because, well, this IS what it constantly feels like for me when it comes to Marinette.

When Marinette takes offense with her parents not unconditionally believing her all the time, is it really always her parents fault for not having raised her to handle push back better, or is it also just a natural part of growing up that you have to get over yourself and realize that your parents too need context for the situations you're in (e.g. Adoration) because growing up means you're parents shouldn't just handwave all the accountability away you potentially have to take now because you're not an 8 year old anymore and capable of genuine wrongdoing?

Yes, her parents definitely failed a solid bit in regards of leaving Marinette emotionally immature and unprepared when it comes to pushback, criticism, or considerations of others.

But to what degree are her parents actually WRONG in wanting Marinette to learn it for herself now because that's normally how it done?

Do her parents REALLY have to sit her 14-15 year old ass down and teach her that other people have feelings and lives of their own? That reality exists outside of her head and feelings? Or should a teenager be expected to learn that themselves, especially one that's so busy and involved in everything as Marinette? Cause it actually seems to me that her being Ladybug caused her stunted development in this regard. Because being Ladybug always serves as the right excuse to always demand and expect the others to do the learning cause she's "too stressed" and "too justified as leader who doesn't owe anyone anything, but is owed everything herself cause she says so".

It's seems that it's rather that being Ladybug caused the damage in Marinette's development which her parent can't know about, and not that her parents are particularly failing by not holding their daughter's hand all through growing up even more to spoon-feed her every bit of development she should grow into now to make sure its as pleasant and easy as possible?

In my opinion, from teenage age onwards it's not the parents' job to tell their children at any uncomfortable or challenging occasion what's right and wrong and do all the work in the child's personal development into a young adult. And isn't that what Marinette's parents are being criticised for anyway? That they don't let their daughter face disappointment, discipline, and struggles because it makes her upset? But now they are in the wrong for wanting to have their daughter learn and figure things out in their own, but fully intend on always being there for her in every way when she needs it?

There definitely IS a complicated grey area here where these two parenting styles badly overlapped and caused problems.

Tom and Sabine DO give Marinette way too much free reign cause it badly clashes with how little discipline, rules, boundaries, and consideration she was raised to actually having to oblige to as part of living with other people.

Marinette was not well prepared for the freedom she now has, but looking at it in general, the problem seems much more to be Marinette being Ladybug, and not necessarily that she's a teenager who lacks refined emotional intelligence because she grew up shielded and cuddled. If Marinette had a normal life, she would have some more trouble growing out of it, but it's not like her parents ruined her.

I think it's that Marinette is Ladybug that is to blame here. Because that's how she was put in a position where she learned that she just needs to stomp her foot, scream, cry, or use her titel to make it so that it's always everyone else who has to do the learning and not her. Marinette's concerning entitlement grew through being Ladybug and not tolerating anything but having all the support, resources, and everyone beneath her in the hierarchy who must submit to her will or else she cant function.

Whatever problems her parents caused in her upbringing should have been easy enough to grow out of. It's LADYBUG who stunted that development because Marinette learned that she has the option to just demand that everyone has to cater to her instead. That is not her parents fault, but it always leaves me at the same problem of not knowing how to properly dissect and discuss what blame Tom and Sabine objectively have in this.

---

This is a very insightful and interesting essay, Anon. When it comes to Marinette’s parents, it's really hard to call them “bad parents”, because they're really good at many things that come to parenting. They're supportive, they respect Marinette's space and privacy, they believe in her ability to handle herself and Marinette clearly feels safe with them. And you're also right that it's extremely difficult for them to guide Marinette learning social-emotional skills now that she's a willful teenager and wouldn't be receptive to her parents “correcting her behavior” if they even knew there was something to correct.

I also don't think Marinette's parents can see all the issues with Marinette’s conduct. She is a very “easy” child; she's polite, she respects authority and doesn't get into purposeful mischief. She's the exact kind of child adults don't worry about, so they don't have to constantly keep an eye on her. Especially since a lot of her problems come to the forefront as Ladybug, a whole new part of her life her parents aren’t involved in.

The thing here is that 14-year-olds not knowing that other people have feelings or how to deal with disappointments is exactly why early childhood education is now emphasizing the teaching of these skills so much. For a long time, there was a belief that kids learn social-emotional skills naturally and there's no need to purposefully teach them, because kids will “get it” when they're “old enough to understand”. Except that we have now discovered that they don't, in fact, just naturally “get it”. These skills need to be taught in early childhood, starting from simple ideas like “your friend is crying because you took their toy, don’t do that again” and moving up from there. And the only way to teach these things in a purposeful way is to put your small kids with other small kids and let them do small kid things, even if it results in someone ending up crying, especially if someone ends up crying, because learning to deal with your own emotional responses and other people having emotional reactions to your actions is, in fact, an essential life and relationship skill. The theory of mind (the understanding that other people have thoughts and feelings that can differ from your own) is something that preschoolers are expected to learn and should get support in learning if they don't.

I’m saying Marinette should already know this stuff. Her parents and possible kindergarten teacher should have taught her almost a decade ago.

However, I don’t disagree with your assertion that being Ladybug is why these common problems with Marinette’s conduct are such a big issue for her relationships now. Because her upbringing neglected to teach her essential social-emotional skills, and she’s been shoved into a position of not just power, but absolute power where no one is in a position to question her, she’s now a nightmare boss who expects everyone else to be fully committed to making the broken system she’s running run smoothly while she comes up with some nonsense project to keep busy so that she has the excuse to take her frustrations out on everyone beneath her.

If Marinette was just constantly ditching her friends so that she could do something relating to her love quest, I’m pretty sure the most severe, realistic consequences for her friends would just be them thinking she doesn’t want to hang out, feeling bummed and no longer inviting her. Marinette being in a position of leadership both exacerbates her social-emotional ineptitude and makes its consequences more severe, because now they’re facing dangerous situations and the leadership only doesn’t care if they get hurt, but sometimes actively hurts them for the sake of achieving some other goal in the future.

We must consider that Marinette has been Ladybug for only a year, while her parents have raised her since birth. Anything being Ladybug has taught Marinette was learned on the basis her parents gave her. I don’t think this is an either-or situation. Now that she's an independent teenager, of course her parents expect her to pull away, be private and figure things out on her own. What Marinette is doing wrong now is on her, because she's the one taking on all these responsibilities, leaving others in the dark, not consulting anyone who doesn't just appease her and making decisions for others. However, this being her go-to approach shows us that her parents failed her in the past.

I think Marinette's parents are doing everything right for an older child, but I also think they were very out of their depth when Marinette was a small child. She clearly wasn't taught this stuff that has to be taught at an early age because she's now a teenager and seems to have no clue how interpersonal relationships work. Of course she's still too young to understand everything, especially romance, but she lacks basic understanding of mutual friendship as well. It just really feels like Marinette's parents have never had any expectations for her, even when she was a small child throwing a fit when she didn't get her way.

[rootbeerfloats]

finished the succession finale. its royver

[evilfloralfoolery]

omg ofc lucian is based on lestat!! i knew he felt familiar in a way but i didn't get it until now. nice nice. ive only seen the tv show tho so..... now i better read the books ig!!

The books absolutely DESTROY the show. They're phenomenal. But I will warn you . . . the show is nothing like the books. "Opinions" in the tags because of reasons lol.

[doremimosasol]

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 - 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ⟡

warnings: suggestive, sharp blade, blood, a bit toxic but kinda sweet too at certain times

word count: 2,8 k

summary: Tom Riddle, the hardworking student, fascinated by you

Tom Riddle, known for his driven mindset but passionate behind closed doors.

It was hard to really get to know the real him, to break through those walls he built around himself. He had always told himself lovers and even friends would distract him from his goal to always over-succeed. He needed to be the best, he needed to know everything they taught at school. He needed to know more.

As a person, like yourself, who studied a lot, it wasn't hard to see him regularly. Tom practically lived in the library, often pulling an all-nighter at any given opportunity. He had his way of tricking Filch into thinking the library was empty and not being able to find him. He often spent time in the restricted section but that didn't give him a chance to analyze the behavior of people around him. So he only visited that part of the library if he really needed to. He didn’t like being around people but the library was the perfect place to really get to know a person.

It may looked like he didn't care about people at Hogwarts, but he was a watcher. In his opinion, watching people study was the best way for him to draw out their personalities. He was intelligent but plain enough to only link people's self-worth to their dedication to their studies.

People sleeping in the library. Those were the ones that didn't have their 8 hours of sleep during the night. Not because of the endless hours studying but because of their weak-minded behavior to party at any given time. They were often Gryffindors, but his own house succeeded in making him disappointed too. It's the reason for him to stay in the library so often, the parties in the common room giving him a headache. Mornings after parties weren’t better for him either. Hungover people all around the place, hoping someday Professor Snape might find them in this state. He’d love to see them get detention.

Ravenclaws. Always putting on the act of the perfect student, while he knew well enough that half of them didn't even study for desire for knowledge. Some of them lived under a lot of pressure, making him almost sympathize with them — no — that was not possible. They were always trying to confirm the expectations of the others. It wasn't a gift. They pained themselves to prove their worth through their grades. But he was always the one they couldn't pass.

Students not using the library for proper end-goals. The kissing in the library drove him mad. There were enough places for one to eat one another's face but they always seemed to decide to do it in the library. What about a room? Anyway, he had his proper way of handling these kinds of students. A way that may or may not make them end up in the hospital wing. Nothing serious, just gluing their lips together with a simple spell. It wasn't pleasant but certainly made them leave. And he didn't have to listen to the awful noises.

Loud students. Same consequences as the kissing students but this time their own lips shut together. It wasn’t a hard spell to reverse. Poor them for not knowing the counter spell, should’ve paid some more attention in class.

You. You were different, always driven to reach the top of the class. Your determination almost — ALMOST — made him feel bad for you not succeeding. Because no one would ever reach the top place as long as he was in school.

You were often the person sitting there too at night. He analyzed your behavior every night. You were different, you took your studies seriously too, and seemed to enjoy it just as much he did.

It seems as if DADA was your favorite subject, noticing the small smile on your face when you had your nose in those textbooks. It was intriguing to him, to see how passionate you were while studying. And especially passionate about his favorite subject too.

This was the first time he'd ever been interested in another student. He wasn't experienced in relationships at all, whether they were romantically or just a friendship. He soon fell into an obsessive spiral, wishing you'd be in the library too when he was there. Figuring out your schedule just by sight of your direction in the hallways. It was unhealthy but you never left his mind, it almost made his grades drop by some percent.

You also noticed him in the library, intrigued by him yourself. He was elegant and charming and the way he spoke made your heart flutter. The guy just radiated intelligence. You caught yourself staring at him quite some times in the library, hoping he’d never notice. Silly you, of course, he did.

It took him weeks to build up the courage to even make the slightest move. He left a small note between the pages of your book while you were gone to get another one. From his seat, he waited for your reaction, even dropping his work just to not miss the smile that formed on your face when you opened the pages it lay in between.

"If a certain someone is on your mind while reading this, take the risk.

-TR"

The moment you lifted your eyes from the small note, yours met his. Tom Riddle. Drawn to the darkness and mystery that surrounded him.

The strange desire that flowed through both your veins reflected in each other's eyes. Neither of you saying anything. When he stood up to leave the library, you immediately picked up his intentions. He wanted you to follow him. A few seconds after he left, you stood up too, following closely behind him.

He stood still in the hallway, his back facing you as you stopped a few meters behind him. The tension was palpable, the only sound in the corridor being both of your breaths. A pace of breathing that quickened every passing second.

"Follow me." His voice echoed through the hallway, it was alluring…

You were contemplating whether to do as he told, but something in you was so damn drawn to him. You were pulled to him like a magnet, your feet following without listening to the signals your brain was giving to you.

He then stopped in front of a wall...?

Suddenly a large door appeared in it and he looked back at you with that typical smirk of his, he was proud of showing this discovery to you. He extended his hand out to the door, it opened magically. "Ladies first, of course."

He looked down at you and behind the darkness that filled his eyes, you could sense a small light flickering behind them. Like a small fire in a deep obscure cave, pulling you closer into the cave. Like a moth to a flame, drawn to the light in the cave.

As you entered the door, your eyes almost fell out of your sockets. Has this always been hidden in the castle? You looked back at him, the surprise on your face was obvious.

"You like it?" He walked closer to you, your heart beating faster at every step he took.

When he was right in front of you, he leaned his head closer to your ear. His breath was warm against the side of your face, a shiver going down your spine at the sensation. "You can keep a secret, right?"

He leaned his head back again, his eyes tracing all your features, pupils dilating. His fingers came into contact with your cheeks, dragging them down slowly until he reached the top of your shirt. Gently he loosened your tie, still looking at you like you were his own personal art piece. "You fascinate me."

"What is it that interests you in Dark Magic?" He slowly traced your collarbone, waiting for a response from you. "Mhmm?"

"I don't know... The secrets and mystery draw me towards it." You didn’t know how to explain it, just keeping it to some simple words. He raised his brows slightly at your confession.

"Is that so? I can give you just as many secrets Dark Magic holds..." He pushed a lock of hair in your face behind your ear. "Even more."

"Are you interested in finding out?"

You probably shouldn't have been…

It was since that day, that Tom and you had these secret meetings. He often took you back to the Room of Requirement during several nights. He taught you new things, in more ways than you could imagine. It seemed as if he was experienced in everything. Everything except love.

As the year progressed, you woke up more times in that room than in your own dorm room. Waking up in his warm arms as he traced his fingers over your bare back. It was a habit of his. He traced every single mole he could find on you, worshipping your body as if it were his reason to live.

His reason to love...

Love.

Love wasn't always that convenient in a relationship with Tom Riddle. The kisses barely weighed out the tears you had spilled during only those few months. They were heavy but he was worth it.

It was the toxic kind of love.

But he was sweet, in a way Tom could ever be sweet.

Nights with Tom were rough, wild, and passionate. The aftermath coloring your body the day after and some even weeks after. He was rough but he knew how to fix you after he almost ruined you. He'd lie if he didn't like to see you in that state. Satisfied by the way he was able to feel unimaginable things again and again. Nothing pleased him more than him pleasing you. Your face was at its most beautiful when you reached the edge. The look of it haunts his mind every single day. Gosh, he believed you were the most beautiful person in the whole school, in the whole world. Your hair spread out on the mattress, your face left with an afterglow, your chest sweaty, and your neck covered in his love.

But there was always something missing, something that made you his. Something that screamed his name. Something that could remind everyone whom you belonged to. Something that would stay with you forever. Something that would bind you to him in a way that was unbreakable…

It was when you two were studying alone in his room that it came to his mind. His eyes averted to the blade that lay on his desk. It was richly decorated with small emerald stones, a snake hugging the handle. It was one of the objects that clearly displayed his heirloom. One of the only things from his heritage that he kept close to him.

He looked back at you, sitting on his bed. You looked so precious in that moment, your eyes tracing the words on the paper of the book you were reading. It was a book he gave to you. It gave an in-depth study of the unforgivable curses: their past, present, and future. His future...

"Darling?" You looked up at him with sparkling eyes, his stomach twisting at the sight of you.

"What is it, Tom?" You straightened yourself on the bed and put down your book, noticing he seemed serious about something. It was a look you knew oh so well. Either you’d be lectured and crying yourself to sleep or tears would stream down your face due to something completely different.

"Do you trust me?"

It was something he asked often but only during closer intimacy, it was weird for him to ask you just out of nowhere. Your heart felt heavy, anticipating something bad.

"Of course, Tom. Always.”

At those words, he got up from behind his desk and took the blade in his hand. The metal made a soft clicking noise against the rings around his long fingers. You had always loved his rings, they were his trademark. He wouldn’t look the same without them. Your eyes followed his actions, not diverting from the blade in his hand.

He pulled your legs so that you got pulled down into a laying position. You gasp softly at the sudden movement. He traced the blade with its blunt side over your legs, passing your knees and slowly reaching your thighs. The cold metal sent shivers down your spine, it was pleasant in a way even though you wouldn't admit it.

He trapped your body, clenching his legs around each side of your body. He looked down at you, seeing your flustered face. It ignited a fire within him and only encouraged him even more to continue. He unbuttoned your shirt slowly, not losing eye contact. He wanted to see your every reaction, the anticipation in your eyes growing.

You didn't say anything, you let him... Surprisingly, you trusted him. You always trusted him. How harsh he could be, he had never hurt you ever. Emotionally maybe but never physically. He’d hurt himself if it meant that you would be untouched by pain.

He pushed the shirt to the side, your chest now exposed to him. You collarbone to his reach, his goal was uncovered. He licked his lips and moved them close to your right collarbone, the one on the side of your heart. He traced them with his lips, soon covering them with his saliva. His tongue left a small wet trail, it glistened in the moonlight coming through the curtains.

He moved his mouth to your neck, up to your jaw until he reached the side of your lips. The teasing made you whimper softly and you put your fingers into his locks. They were soft in between your fingers, a feeling you craved every day.

"You're beautiful." The words hit your lips and you look up into his eyes as he stares back into yours. It's like he's looking into your soul, you feel completely naked in front of him though clothed half.

He dragged the blade across your collarbone, slightly pressing it into your skin to make you get used to the sensation. He looked back at your face to see your reaction. You were calm, and it surprised him. The amount of trust you put into him made his heart skip a beat, it was like falling in love with you all over.

"Can I try something, love?"

Words left your mind and all you could do was nod, You had a feeling about what he was about to do but just waited for him to confirm your thoughts. He traced his thumb across your cheek in the shape of a 'T', the same shape that was now forming right below your collarbone.

It felt cold, it felt warm, you didn't know what it felt like. It almost felt like the same feeling his thumb was making on your cheek like he somehow transferred that soft feeling to your collarbone. It was weird, the pain was almost nonexistent. Little did you know that he put a spell on it, the blade replicating the feeling of his thumb. Like you said, he would never hurt you...

'R'. The next letter now shaped in your skin too, forming his initials in the end. He brushed his fingers over it, immediately closing the wound and causing it to scar. He was making sure it'd stay there forever, like a tattoo.

"T... R..." You looked up at him as he moved his face above yours again.

"That's right, yours. Always and forever yours. Say it.”

“You’re mine and I’m yours, Tom…”

He connected both of your lips as he switched positions into the kiss and put you on top of him now. He pulled away and pulled his shirt over his head, putting the blade in the palm of your hand.

"Your turn now."

Your breath hitched in your throat as he said those words, your turn to do what...?

"Come on, mark me. Own me. Make me yours like you just said" He caressed your cheek and pulled you closer. His eyes were almost demanding, a look you were all too familiar with. He really wanted you to carve your own initials in him too. It was kind of thrilling honestly.

You couldn't deny his wish so you pressed the blade softly against his collarbone with a small sigh. You were focused on the shape, your first letter now leaving a red trace just below his collarbone.

"Good girl..."

Little did you know that this was as close as a blood pact he could get. It'd connect the both of you forever. The letters would turn into a wound again at only the thought of betrayal or disloyalty. You should've known better, for Tom had put another spell on you. Marked by his obsession, marked by his love.

[sorrowsofsilence]

Cymbal-ism • Folio

Pairing: Nick Folio x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: smut 18+ (unprotected pnv, pls wrap it b4 u tap it; male!recieving, slight degrading, rough!folio) enemies to lovers, arguing/bickering

Prompt: You're the new bad omens drum tech, and Nick Folio sure does get on your nerves. Is he a pain in the ass? Or is it the fact you two have some un-discussed sexual tension? Sent via anon

Author note: its hella late, ive had three margaritas, and this is not proofread lol

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

“You’re fucking insufferable,” you muttered under your breath as you brushed passed the short-haired brunette, shoulders knocking against him.

He scoffed, his golden brows narrowing as he hollered after you down the hallway, “Huh? What did you say?”

You glanced his way, flashing him the middle finger with a sarcastic smile while you opened the studio door, before slamming it loudly behind you in frustration.

Nick fucking Folio.

You two got off on the wrong foot the first day you met him two weeks ago. You had bought coffee for the team as a kind gesture, hoping to make a great first impression since you would be with them around Europe for two months.

However, shit hit the fan when you and Folio collided in the hallway as you got off the elevator, spilling the drinks all over him, and immediately giving him a childish vendetta.

To him, if his new drum tech was that clumsy, this tour would be the longest two months of his life. But to you, he was the one who entered the elevator looking down at his phone, not paying attention.

And even though you two barely knew each other, he already made your blood boil.

Perhaps it was the fact he was always trying to nit-pick every little thing you did or the way his attitude was always witty, having a sarcastic retort for everything you said.

It’s also possible it was the way Jolly, your childhood best friend and how you landed the job in the first place, was constantly teasing you about the sexual tension budding between you and Folio.

Or deep down, you thought that maybe it was the way Nick’s annoyingly perfect hair slicked back so effortlessly, or how flawless his ochre eyes were when he glared at you, the deep abyss titillating every time his brows furrowed in your direction.

Everything about him, and to do with him, pissed you off.

But it made you even more mad that you found him extremely attractive, his presence making your heart pound with anger and infatuation.

Nick stormed into the room, kicking the door closed with his foot, “If you’re going to insult me just do it to my face, you coward.”

“Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings,” you said, kneeling next to the drum kit, loosening bolts on the boom stand.

Folio hovered over you, analyzing your movements as you adjusted the cymbals, taking them down one by one to place them in their cases. There was less than an hour until sound check, and none of the drum gear was moved from the studio room to the stage- thanks to somebody.

Groaning, you stopped to look up at him in annoyance, “I’m glad you think I’m pretty Folio, but maybe you can take your eyes off me and help? Instead of ogling?”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he started sliding the copper off of the loosened bars, “I’m just making sure you’re not fucking up my set.”

“Sure buddy,” you said, standing up and starting to unscrew the kick drum.

The two of you worked in tense silence, the air thick as miffed glances were shared taking apart the kit.

You tried not to watch the way his arms would flex as he twisted the rack tom, tattoos glistening slightly as the room heated.

You averted your eyes for a final time when they met his once again, stacking the cases onto the trolly to wheel it out to the stage.

Folio pushed passed you to grab the handles, ready to cart it down the hall even though it was your job.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” You asked as you trailed way too closely behind him, just to push his buttons. The smell of his faint cologne and slight musk of weed on his tanktop left your heart picking up pace.

“Of course I do,” He mumbled, about to walk past the stage entrance.

“To the left- the left-” you shook your head, staring at him with disdain, as he completely ignored you and continued walking, “Oh my god- Folio! it was left!”

You heard a chuckle behind you as Jolly and Ruffilo walked down the hall, stopping at the backstage door as they watched you humorously.

Rolling your head back you gave them an exasperated look, sighing audibly.

“You two ok?” Jolly smiled, folding his arms.

Shaking your head in frustration you bitterly laughed, “He is the biggest pain in my ass. I’m seriously debating quitting the industry as a whole.”

Ruffilo snickered, glancing at Jolly and then Folio, “He only does that because he thinks you’re cute.”

“Excuse me-” Nick interjected, shaking his head in disagreement, “I’d rather kiss a wall for five hours. At least it would be quiet.”

Shooting them a pointed look you walked passed the boys as they chuckled, letting Folio follow you onto the stage.

It only took about ten minutes to set the kit back up before you sat on the stool, practicing a few solos to test the position.

Nick watched in irritation from the side, but what you didn’t know was under all that show, was an immense amount of admiration. The brunette loved watching you play. He was always impressed with your coordination and keen ear, the ability for you to instantly stop playing and slightly adjust a drum before falling right back into a quick rhythm, breathtaking.

He’d never want to admit how good you are; but he would always be biting back a smile as he watched you test out his kit for him, making sure it was set and tuned to perfection.

You sighed once you finished your adjustments, before tossing Nick the sticks.

“All yours pretty boy.”

“Don’t call me that,” He huffed, before looking at the kit, “Also, your dumb ass forgot the hi-hat.”

Not believing him at first you glanced at the drums before swiftly swearing to yourself.

He was right.

Getting up you pushed past Nick, but he followed you back down to the studio, an annoyed murmuring coming from your mouth. As you entered through the door Folio closed it behind you, locking it.

“Nick seriously what-” You began, but were cut off by the brunette.

“God, do you ever shut that annoying fucking mouth of yours?” He said, standing close to you as he leaned forward, eyes narrowed.

“If it’s so annoying to you, make me,” You scoffed, tilting your head to the side.

The proximity of Nick subconsciously began to make your face warm as you backed up from him, but he was right on your trail.

You hit the soft padded wall of the studio, Folio’s body millimetres from pinning yours against the surface.

The tension grew as you both stared at each other with hatred.

“Fuck, you.” Nick spat, false venom dripping off his words.

Without hesitating you sneered, “You wouldn’t, pussy.”

It took all of two seconds before his auburn eyes flicked to your lips, a greedy hand reaching up and gripping your jaw as his mouth attached to yours.

It didn’t take long before you melted into Nick’s touch, angry at how good his tongue felt swiping against yours, the grip on your face tightening as his other hand reached to grip a fist full of your hair at the back of your head.

Fury, hatred, and lust fueled the fire between you two as your fingers gripped his belt loops, tugging his hips toward you as you began rutting against him.

You wanted nothing more than to claw down his skin, begging to dig your nails across the ivory and ink, embedding your mark. You wanted him to wince in a mix of pain and pleasure as your imprint but decided that grazing your teeth along his lips would have to do.

Nick moaned into you, quite literally ready to tear your shirt off, tempted to rip the cloth from its seam and destroy the fabric; but he withheld himself, aware that the two of you were hallways away from the exit to the tour bus.

The two of you pulled away panting, catching your breath.

“What the hell are we-”

Nick stared into your eyes, attempting to shift his desire into a glare as he leaned down to bite against your neck, nipping and kissing down the skin, “Just shut up, for five minutes. Please.”

A small whimper escaped you as his tongue grazed your collarbone, Folio’s fingers fiddling with the button on your jeans. You shimmed the fabric down your legs, kicking it off as you tugged at his tanktop, pulling it over his head.

His fingers gripped your hips, pulling them toward his own as he rubbed against your underwear, the bulge and stiffened desire evidence of how badly he wanted this. Reaching for the bottom of your shirt you tore it off your torso, exposing your chest.

Folio pushed your hips into the wall as his fingers danced along the hem of the thong you wore, threatening to dip lower to where you wanted him most.

“Please,” You whispered, desperation falling from your tone.

Folio shook his head, almost throwing his head back in humour, “We need to do something about your mouth.”

He pushed your shoulders, beckoning you to the ground before pulling his belt from the clasp. Freeing himself from his jeans, you watched hungrily as he gripped the back of your head, lining up his hardened desire to your lips.

“Open. Now.”

You obeyed, too turned on to fight back his commands. Wrapping around him you began to suck along the skin, closing your eyes as you relished in the feeling of how hard he was, all for this.

You reached up to stroke the base but he gripped your wrist, holding you in place as his hips thrust forward. He took complete control of how fast and how deep he went, using you to his desire.

“Your whore mouth exists for me to fuck,” Nick swore, his other hand holding the base of your neck as if feeling for himself through your skin, “All that backtalk can be shoved right down your pretty throat.”

Moaning at his words you closed your eyes, gagging on Nick’s thrusts as you took your free hand between your thighs, allowing yourself to slide past your panties to trace small circles against the skin.

Your arousal coated your fingers as your hips rutted against your hand, Nick’s fingers leaving your wrist to grip the back of your head. He pushed you down further on him, your eyes watering as he forced you to gag along his cock.

Air dissipated from your lungs, your body shuddering from the lack of oxygen momentarily before Nick pulled you away, causing you to cough.

“Fuck,” he groaned, almost chuckling.

You licked and sucked against him for a moment longer, before he pulled you up, gripping your hips. He kissed you desperately again for a few more minutes as his cock pressed against your thigh, before you pulled away, a hand against his chest.

“Are you going to just kiss me, or fuck me like you said you would?” You pushed, your hand gripping his erection, fingers dancing across his skin.

Nick moaned into your lips again before taking his hand between your thighs, slipping his fingers between your folds as he prepared your body for his, “Don’t make it a challenge, or you won’t be able to walk after.”

The brunette lifted your leg, gripping underneath your thigh as he hoisted it up to his hip, positioning himself against your arousal. It was a matter of seconds before he slid between you, your body taking him eagerly as your head fell back, mouth agape at the sensation.

He filled you fully, satiating the hunger you always had for the drummer as he began to thrust into your core, pounding senselessly. The angle gave him access to where you wanted him most, soft cries heaving from your chest as your brows furrowed.

Frustration dissipated into pleasure as Nick gave you everything, fucking you with complete adoration and need. Your nails gripped his shoulders, digging into the skin with haste as you rested your forehead against his neck.

“I hate how gorgeous I think you are,” Nick mumbled into your ear, soft groans escaping him.

Your laugh turned into a moan as his fingers trailed to stimulate you while he thrust, your body convulsing from the bliss, “I hate your perfect laugh, and how you have a lopsided smile.”

“I hate how talented you are.”

“I hate the way your eyes light up when you’re happy.”

“I hate how you walk with a skip when you’re excited.”

Your eyes lidded as Nick gripped the back of your head, forcing you to watch him as he spit on himself, lubricating your combined story as you pushed into him to meet his hips.

His thrusts began to waver as you clenched around him, the stimulation from his cock and fingers causing your legs to shake. Nick was close himself, trying to push you to the edge first before allowing himself release.

“I h-hate how-” You tried to get out your words as complete bliss took over, but Folio’s lips attached to yours once again, his pace never ceasing through your orgasm. Your walls engulfed him as Nick succumbed to you, his breathing staggered and haste as his chest vibrated in contentment.

His hips jerked into you as he allowed himself relief, taking over your body.

You watched him for a moment before his eyes met yours, lips agape in a pant.

The brunette shook his head as his fingers squeezed the skin along your torso, “We have two minutes till sound check.”

“Of course, you’re making us late,” you frowned.

“Oh shut the fuck up.”

Tags: @sammyjoeee @spicywhenspeaking @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @foliosgirl @thatchickwiththecamera @blackveilomens @xserenax-13

[braxlrose]

can you do a bill smut where he’s fucking the reader over a table and being like rough >.<??

2010!Bill x F!reader

content warnings: rough fucking, swearing, 18+ content, reader being bent over a table, dirty thoughts, teasing, oral (m!receiving), fem!reader, edging mentioned, edging, dirty talk, ass slapping (once), face fucking, etc.

summary: the humanoid tour was getting to the both of you until you just couldn't take it anymore.

a/n: this is 2010 bill and i hope it's okay that I made reader apart of the band. this is during the Humanoid Tour. I also wrote some of the dialog in German just cause I wanted too 🤷🏻‍♀️. I put the translations next to them though!! this isn't proof read btw!

This tour was getting to be so exhausting. You loved playing up on stage, it was thrilling and exciting but there was so much movement and the heavy lights beating down on your skin made you dizzy sometimes. You and Bill barely had any time to yourselves to have some fun.

You and the band were either practicing, sleeping or playing up on stage. And that was getting to you. Your fingers hurt and your core ached even more. Every time you saw Bill move around on stage and sing you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second. The sweat trickling down his forehead and you could see everything in his tight leather body suit.

Every time bill took a breath and you could see his face contort is the most perfect way possible. You had almost screwed up some chords because you got lost staring at him. And he wasn't any help either.

Any time you had a solo, or he got to take a breath and stop singing he'd come up behind you and grip your waist. The crowd went absolutely wild because he was just so sweet. Kissing your cheek and running hands through your hair while you played. What they couldn't see is bill pressing his dick right up against your ass and grinding against you. You could feel the slick building up, making your folds so wet. He was such a tease. He tried to pretend in camera like Tom was the perverted one but bill was sneaky like that. He knew how to make his fans think differently about him, when in reality he'd be pounding your pussy until you could remember every, single, vein.

The hickies he'd leave on your body where nobody could see them. He loved doing that. Sucking harshly against your squishy thighs until you had bruises all over them. Watching you struggle to walk the next morning because he fucked you so good the night before. But oh no, you had to work for it. Bill wouldn't just give you whatever you wanted without a little bit of something for himself. It's not his fault you look so pretty, squirming down on the bed while he edges your gorgeous, little pussy.

What you'd do for just one more night like that. You two hadn't had sex in over a month because you guys were always so exhausted from touring and next had the time. But you were going to make time. You couldn't handle it any longer. You needed him, you need a release, something; anything. It wasn't fair, Tom always had girls up in his room and you weren't getting anything. Your fingers weren't enough anymore.

You weren't going to go another night without him.

[that evening after the concert ended]

You were leaning against the wall of the shower, letting the warm water trickle down your back. You were trying to save your energy for when bill got back. He was down in the lobby getting the rest of your guys' bags. Some of them had gotten lost at the airport and they were finally delivered.

You rubbed a bar of soap up and down your body, waiting for the moment he walked in. You couldn't hear any footsteps yet or the sound of the elevator coming up to your floor, so he was still getting the bags. That meant you had time. Time to get ready, to get sexy. You wanted to smell irresistible and didn't want to give him any option to not want you.

You were just hoping, begging to god that after he saw you, his fatigue would just evaporate. You needed it to. A heat was building inside of you and you needed him. You needed bill and you couldn't go another night without him.

"Ich bin zurück!" (I'm back!) Bill yelled, rubbing his face and walking inside of the hotel room.

You heard the door open and shut quickly and a loud thud hit the floor. Must've been the bags. You washed the soap off of your body and slowly stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry yourself off. You could hear Bill groaning against the bed, obviously tired out from the day, so you tried your best to hurry up.

Bill shuffled out of the bed and knocked on the door. He leaned his forehead up against it waiting for you to say something.

"Was geht?!" (What is it?!) You yelled to him, running a comb through your wet hair.

"Ich muss aufs Klo. Ich muss mein Make-up abwischen..." (I need to use the bathroom. I have to wipe my makeup off...) Bill muttered against the door, taking in a deep breath with his eyes closed.

"Ich bin gleich draußen, gib' mir noch einen Moment!" (I'll be right out, give me a moment!) You said back to him, rubbing lotion on your body and face. You could hear him sigh in annoyance, making you roll your eyes. He's so impatient..

[a few minutes later] (most of the speaking is in English now!!)

You creaked open the door, slowly stepping out to face him. He groaned again and started to stand up.

"Finally, you're out of there, I'm exhau-" you could actually see the second his voice got caught in his throat. You were standing there in front of him in a black lingerie set, staring up at him with a little smile on your face. He just stood there, staring back at you waiting for you to make a move.

You slowly stepped towards him and rubbed your hands on his chest. "You know, it's been a while since we've had a little time to ourselves, Bill. Don't you think we need it?" You asked innocently. Some of his eye makeup was smeared on his face and it made him look so hot. You bit down on your bottom lip, waiting for his reply.

"Ar..are you sure..? I mean..after today, all of the practicing and the-" You leaned up on your tippy toes and started planting little kisses on his neck.

"I'm sure, are you sure..? Because I know exactly what I want, I want you Bill. I need you..." You mumbled against his neck before leaning back down on your feet. You ran your fingers through his sloppy hair and slid them down over his neck. He bent down a little bit, leaning closer towards your lips with a small smirk on his face, "and don't pretend like you haven't been teasing me for weeks. Pressing your dick against me, whispering in my ear on stage..this moment right now is because of you, Bill. So please..take advantage of the situation..?" You begged, whispering against his lips lovingly.

He took a deep breath in slowly and grazed his finger tips along your hips. His eyes were practically staring into your soul at this point but you could see his dick. It was throbbing in his pants. He was hard as a rock, you could just tell he needed some help.

You smiled against his lips and placed a little kiss on them before sinking down to your knees. You cupped your hand on his dick and bit down on your bottom lip, he was so fucking big. You crawled closer to him and starting kissing his dick through his pants, as you toyed with his zipper.

You could feel him getting impatient, if you had looked up at him you could probably see all the veins in his neck ready to burst.

You unzipped his pants, and pulled out his dick. Gasping at the sight of it. You could never get used to his size, he was so big. You wrapped your hands around the base and starting licking the tip of it. His groans were so sexy and hot, he sounded amazing. You licked down his length, taking one of his balls in your mouth while you pumped his dick with one hand, the other hand steadying yourself with his thigh.

"Mmm...mein schmutziges Mädchen." (my dirty girl.) Bill muttered, running his fingers through your hair. You smiled against him, licking back up his length and spitting in your hand to stroke his dick better. You started with small kitten licks against the tip of his dick before taking more of him in your mouth.

You tightened your hand and pumped his dick nice and slow, taking as much of him as you could into your mouth before it hit the back of your throat causing you to gag. You furrowed your brows and mewed out, pulling him out of your mouth and back in. You slid your tongue underneath it and sucked him in.

"God....fuuuuckkk..." He moaned out, the grip of his hand tightening on your hair. He jolted his hips against your face, he didn't care about the gagging sounds, he was getting so close. You steadied yourself with his thighs as he slid his dick in and out of your mouth. You closed your eyes and tried to relax your throat as best you could as he used you. Drool and saliva dripped from the corner of your mouth, making you swallow harshly as his cum squirted down your throat.

He pulled out of your mouth and pulled you up your arms. Some of his cum dripped out onto your chin and on your face. You looked so incredibly sexy. He tangled his fingers in your hair and locked his lips with yours. You needed that release now.

You wrapped your legs around his thigh, grinding against him as he picked you up and walked over to the nearest counter. He sat you down on it and moved to kissing your neck.

His hands were gripping and groping at your chest and he had pulled your legs apart. Whines dripped out of your mouth. You had nothing to grind against now.

"Not yet...you'll get your release, don't be so impatient. My dirty little slut..." he mumbled, ripping your lingerie and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You moaned out loudly and your hands found his hair quickly. You breathing got heavier, as he toyed with you. He flicked and bit your nipples until they were sore and raw. He could hear your little cries as he stimulated you. You sounded perfect.

He pulled himself off of your and ripped the rest of your lingerie off. He could see the shocked expression on your face as he smirked.

"I'll buy you a new one, don't worry." He spread your legs even more, and slid one finger against your wet folds. You were dripping for him. So wet and pretty. All of it for him.

He pulled your thighs over his shoulders and began to attack your clit. He sucked so harshly on it and held you in place on the counter. You wanted to grind against his face so badly but he wouldn't let you. He smacked your thighs anytime you tried to move. Tears began to form on your waterline and you got closer to your release.

You pulled tightly on his hair, moaning loudly making him stop. You shouted out no when he pulled back and picked you back up.

"The only time you're going to be cumming, is on my pretty dick baby..you got that?" He flipped you over the the counter and pulled off his pants completely now. Like clock-work, you stuck your ass up at him as your cheek was squished against the table. His soft, slender fingers rubbed and pulled at your ass before pulling them against and kisses your lower lips again.

You tried to find something to grab but you had nothing. You were getting to be so stimulated, and you needed him so badly. You needed all of him, you needed him right no-

"Oh God...! Bill...!" It was like your whole body tightened up as he slid his dick in you. He was so big and filled you up completely. Tears dripped down against the table as he slid in and out of you. Fucking you like never before.

"Bill! Fuck...~ please..." You cried out, the feeling was so good. He smacked your ass hard, making you blush and tear up again.

"Shhhh...you don't want the whole hotel to hear you, now do you?" He whispered against you, holding your hips in place as he fucked you harder. You could feel everything starting to build up inside of you. All of the orgasms you could've had in the past month, but you and Bill were too tired. Everything you could've been feeling. All of the quickies you two could've had if you had just said something.

You squealed out as white, stringy ropes of cum dripped out of his dick inside of you. After that all you could see was white, you came all over him and you breathing was unsteady.

You gasped lightly as he pulled out of you and kissed your back.

"I'll be right back, meine liebe.." he whispered in your ear, leaving you on the table and walking into the bathroom to get something to clean you two up...

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS OMG 🤭🤭 I HAD SM FUN WRITING IT

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @tokiiohot @saumspam @5hyslv7 @memog1rl @80s-tingz @billybabeskaulitz @victryzvv9 @banshailey @nyxwritesshit

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

lights, camera, love

pair: Tom Holland x reader

summary: y/n(she/her) and Tom go to a red carpet event together for the first time

masterlist | navigation

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The car came to a smooth stop outside the theater, the murmur of the awaiting crowd outside growing louder as Tom looked over at Y/N. She was busy fiddling with her earrings, her eyes fixed on her reflection in the small mirror in the sun visor. The sleek black vehicle's windows were tinted, hiding the two from the excited fans outside. Tom felt his heart do a little somersault just watching her.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he said, his voice low and sincere. The words were simple but held so much more.

Y/N turned to face him, a soft smile spreading across her lips. Her dress was a deep emerald green that hugged her figure in all the right places, and her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders. She had spent hours getting ready, worrying about every little detail, but the way Tom was looking at her now made it all worth it. His brown eyes were filled with admiration and love, making her feel like the only person in the world.

“Thank you,” she replied, her cheeks flushing a light pink. She reached over and straightened his bow tie, her fingers lingering a bit longer than necessary. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Mr. Holland.”

Tom chuckled, his own cheeks tinting a shade of red. “Well, I had to make sure I looked good next to the most beautiful woman on the red carpet tonight.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound like music to Tom’s ears. Despite the glamor of the event, the flashes of cameras, and the cacophony of voices outside, it was moments like these, the little quiet moments, that he treasured the most.

The driver stepped out of the car, signaling it was time. Tom took a deep breath, his nerves tingling. He’d been to plenty of premieres before, but this was the first time he was bringing Y/N as his official date. He wanted everything to be perfect.“Ready?” he asked, holding out his hand to her.

Y/N took his hand without hesitation. “Ready.”

As the door opened, the noise outside flooded in, the bright lights almost blinding. Tom stepped out first, keeping hold of Y/N’s hand and helping her out of the car. The moment she emerged, a wave of camera flashes went off, capturing the two of them.

The crowd cheered, and Tom waved, flashing his signature charming smile. Y/N followed suit, her arm wrapping around his as they began to walk down the carpet together. The cameras clicked incessantly, capturing every angle, every smile. Tom’s arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer. He wanted the world to know she was with him, and he was with her.

Reporters called out their names, asking questions, wanting photos. Tom and Y/N posed together, the perfect picture of a Hollywood couple. Despite the chaos around them, Tom found himself constantly glancing at Y/N, making sure she was okay. She seemed to be handling it all with grace, her smile never faltering.

As they stopped for a few interviews, Tom couldn’t help but intertwine his fingers with hers. The simple act grounded him, made him feel like he could take on the world. And with Y/N by his side, he truly believed he could.

“So, Tom,” one reporter asked, a knowing smile on her face, “How does it feel to have Y/N as your date tonight?”

Tom grinned, looking over at Y/N, his eyes softening. “It feels incredible. I couldn’t imagine being here with anyone else. She’s my rock, and I’m so proud to have her by my side.”

Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, the sincerity in Tom’s voice touching her deeply. She squeezed his hand, feeling a rush of love for the man standing beside her.

“And Y/N,” the reporter continued, turning to her, “How does it feel to be here with Tom?”

Y/N looked up at Tom, her heart swelling. “It feels like a dream. Tom’s not just an amazing actor; he’s an incredible person. I’m so lucky to be here with him, to share this moment.”

Tom’s heart melted at her words, and without thinking, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. The cameras caught the tender moment, and the crowd cooed in response.

As they made their way down the carpet, Tom kept Y/N close, his hand never leaving hers. The glitz and glamour of Hollywood were all around them, but in that moment, it was just the two of them, lost in their own little world.

“I love you,” Tom whispered in her ear as they posed for another photo, his voice full of emotion.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with love. “I love you too, Tom.”

[eiightysixbaby]

i've got you under my skin now

word count: 2.9k

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x rockstar!fem!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. SMUT SMUT SMUT. kind of asshole!eddie but he's really just a moody baby, oral (m receiving), masturbation, reader and eddie argue but everything is consensual, really just absolute filth with a plot.

summary: you're an up-and-coming musician in the rock scene and have been asked to join corroded coffin on a song. only thing is, their singer - eddie munson - proves to be challenging to collaborate with.

author's note: my first lengthier work so sorry in advance if there are errors! this is a daisy jones and the six inspired one-shot, and for the sake of this fic i directly reference the title and lyrics of the song 'honeycomb' from the tv show - but you really don't need to know the book/show to understand. ok anyways hope u all like it and here u go @taintedcigs i know u've been waiting for this one em i hope u love it!!

“Honestly Eddie, I don’t care anymore! I’m not listening to your little rockstar tantrum. She’s coming in, and she’s joining you on the song. That’s final.”

Eddie scoffs at his manager. Ever since he was informed that ‘Y/N - biggest fucking nobody in the rock scene’ was going to be coming in and recording his song with him, Eddie had been relenting.

Eddie scoffs at his manager. Ever since he was informed that ‘Y/N - biggest fucking nobody in the rock scene’ was going to be coming in and recording his song with him, Eddie had been relenting.

“Tom, you don’t fucking get it man. Clearly. My song is perfect. What do we need her for? She doesn’t even have an album out, she’s made no name for herself. She’s going to ruin Corroded Coffin.” Eddie continues pestering, despite Tom’s insistence against it.

“No, Eddie, see that’s where you’re wrong. You wrote a good song man, okay? A good song. But just a good song. She could make it great. You haven’t heard her sing like I have. She has real talent.”

Eddie scrunches up his face and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Oh a good song, huh? But you said the label liked it. Why change it?”

Tom sighs, taking a step towards Eddie. “The label didn’t dig the song… okay? They said it needs more, otherwise they’re gonna pass on it.”

“So you fuckin’ lied man, fuck-“ Eddie grits his teeth. “Fine, whatever, she’s gonna sing on the song with me. But that’s it.” Eddie grumbles, storming out of the small room.

•••

“He doesn’t get it, guys, he doesn’t fucking get it!” Eddie yells. “This is my song. My fucking baby. And this... bitch is gonna come in here and destroy it. I don’t need her singing on the song - I don’t need anyone to make my music ‘better’” he spits.

The thing is, things have always gone Eddie’s way since Corroded Coffin gained traction in the music world. Eddie writes the songs, Eddie dictates which songs go on the album, so on and so forth. This makes sense to Eddie, and if you ask him, he’s being completely fair to the rest of the guys in the band. ‘Of course I let them have a say in things. I don’t care what rumors you’ve heard - it’s a fair process around here.’ It’s only natural that he can’t handle the idea of someone else singing on his song. Eddie is always the one singing, save for Gareth and Jeff doing backing vocals.

Eddie thrives off of being liked. The way the fans hang onto every word he sings- it’s electric to him. He’s addicted to the way people adore him. And he’d never admit it to anybody… but he’s nervous you might just show him up, and then *poof* no one cares about him anymore.

“Come on, Eddie. Ease up a little! This could be fun, you never know.” Gareth says, following Eddie back and forth as he paces the recording studio.

“I give you like, 20 minutes before you’re in love with her… or bending her over a table.” Jeff interjects, screeching when Gareth throws a drumstick at him to shut him up.

Eddie can’t get a rebuttal in before the door swings open. Tom walks in trailed by a young woman. Quite possibly the most beautiful woman Eddie’s ever see- nope. Nope. Not going there. What was that?

“Guys. This is Y/N, as I’m sure you could guess. She’s here to record ‘Honeycomb’ with us today.” Tom smiles politely at the group, jolting Eddie from his thoughts.

“Y/N, hey. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Gareth, this is Jeff, Greg, and I’m sure you know Eddie - the star of the show.” Gareth goes around the room, pointing at all of the guys.

You meet Eddie’s gaze as Gareth talks, and your breath hitches in your throat. Of course you know who Eddie is- you’ve seen him on magazine covers and in interviews. You’ve always thought he was alluring, but he’s even more gorgeous in person. Long, curly hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Tattoos trailing up his arms and chains around his neck. His signature ripped black skinny jeans that hug him so well in all the right places… fuck. Focus. You are not here to sleep with Eddie Munson. You redirect your attention to Gareth as he finishes speaking.

The rest of the guys all greet you warmly - except Eddie, you notice - who gives you a tight-lipped smile and a quick nod.

You walk straight up to him, holding out your hand for him to shake. “It’s so nice to meet you Eddie. Thank you so much for letting me be on the song - seriously, it means the world.” You say, exaggerating sincerity a little.

Eddie reluctantly shakes your hand. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

He walks away to set up a microphone before he can think too hard about the way his heart pounded as your hands touched.

•••

The recording session starts, and take one of the song has begun. You insisted on using the same mic as Eddie, who begrudgingly allowed you to stand beside him, shoulders brushing ever so slightly. The contact sends chills down his spine. Eddie sings the first lines confidently into the mic, not making eye contact with you. Tom, along with the rest of the band watch the two of you intently from the sound booth. Honestly, Eddie has to admit everything is going smoothly. That is, until the chorus starts. Eddie sings one lyric into the microphone… and you sing a different one.

“Woah, woah, okay, stop!” Eddie yells to Tom to cut the track, pulling the clunky headphones off of his head. “Those aren’t the lyrics, what are you doing?” He’s turned to face you, incredulous.

“Um I- I’m sorry, did he not get my version? Does he not know?” You say, avoiding eye contact with Eddie to level with Tom.

“Your version!? This is my song- you are here to sing on my song. Not to rewrite the damn song!” Eddie hisses, throwing his hands in the air.

“No, darling, I’m here to make your song better. And that’s exactly what I’ve done.” You narrow your eyes at him, a syrupy sweet smile on your face.

Eddie’s face is burning, his whole body is burning. You weren’t supposed to write new lyrics. This is not happening. And for the love of god stop staring at her lips, Eddie.

“Eddie, uh, let’s give her version a shot, yeah?” Tom says, framing it like a question, but Eddie knows he doesn’t really have a choice.

The track starts from the top again, and Eddie finds that his hands are trembling as he holds your songbook. He sings the lyrics as you have written them, and his stomach sinks as he does it. He hates that you’ve changed his perfect song. He hates that he was made to look like an idiot because Tom didn’t tell him you had rewritten anything. And most of all, he hates that he can hear how good your voices sound together. He hates that he thinks he’d like to hear the sound of your voice for the rest of his life, on the rest of his songs.

“Oooh, we could make a good thing bad,” the two of you sing out in unison, and the song ends.

Eddie stares at you and you stare at him, chest heaving and absolutely beaming. The rest of the band are looking at the two of you in awe from the sound booth. Eddie can’t bring himself to smile, can’t bring himself to let you know that he thinks you really might have made his song better. Can’t face you while his mind races with thoughts of grabbing your face and kissing you. Instead, he hands you your lyric book and hurries out of the studio.

You excuse yourself to the group amid their praises and follow him out the large wooden doors. You’re surprised to find the lobby empty, but then you hear noise coming from down the hall. Walking over to a small closet, you peer in and see Eddie in the dim light, leaning against the wall, hands covering his face and his head tipped back.

“Eddie, what was up with that?” You ask him gently, closing the closet door behind you for privacy. “I thought we sounded great.”

“You rewrote my fucking song!” He booms over you. “That wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to sing on it with me and that would be that.” He’s stepped towards you, leaving little room between the two of you in the already-cramped closet.

“It’s not my fault Tom didn’t tell you I changed some of the lyrics, okay? I didn’t expect you to be blindsided like that. But you could’ve been more mature about it!” You defend.

“Who the hell do you think you are? No- seriously, tell me. Corroded Coffin has worked so hard to make a name for ourselves. I have worked so hard. And you just waltz in here like you own the place? What the fuck is your problem?” Eddie’s words come out sharp, bitter, but there’s an emotion behind his eyes you can’t quite place. Fear? Maybe.

“Oh get your head out of your ass already, Eddie! I made your song better! We sounded fucking amazing together- the label might actually want it now!” You’re screaming back at him at this point, heat rising in your face as he steps impossibly closer to you. “And don’t even get me fucking started on the Corroded Coffin bullshit. Do you even give the other guys a say in what happens in this band? Cause you seem like a big cocky crybaby who always gets his way. I may not be rich and famous like you are but at least I’m not a fucking prick!” You’re seething, and you press your hands to his chest in an attempt to shove him backwards.

Eddie stops you, though, grabs you by the wrists. Firmly, but not hurting. His huge brown eyes haven’t stopped boring into yours. He thinks his heart might sprout wings and fly out of his chest. He thinks he might hate himself forever if he doesn’t get to have more of you.

“What- now you’re speechless? Don’t have anything to s-“ Eddie cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours like his life suddenly depends on it. Maybe it does.

You’re caught off guard, frozen in place for only a second until you kiss him back, pushing him up against the shelves behind him. His hands leave your wrists and hastily scour your body. You’d think he was a man starved the way he grips at your hips, lips basically devouring yours all the while. Eddie gasps as you lean down to his neck, sucking red and purple marks onto the skin that Jeff is definitely going to mock him for later. He can’t bring himself to care. He grabs your face in his hands to meet your lips once again, needing more.

“You wanna know something, Y/N?” Eddie says between kisses, moving down to nip at your neck. “I can’t fucking stand the way you came in here so confidently today-“ another kiss to your neck. “The way you came right up and sang into the same mic as me instead of using your own, like you just own the whole room-“ another kiss, and another “I can’t stand the fact that your lyrics are better than mine- that maybe you made 'Honeycomb' something I couldn’t make it,” he’s talking through gritted teeth, agitated and yet completely enamored with you. “I hate that the entire time I was watching you sing, I couldn’t stop thinking about your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock..”

Before you can respond, he’s unbuttoning your jeans, pushing you against the opposite wall of the closet, taking control.

“I think you’re absolutely insufferable and immature” you breathe out, pulling his hair out of its ponytail so you can run your fingers through it.

He lets out a breathy chuckle, but it’s arrogant, smug. “You can spit whatever insults you like, sweetheart, but you’re absolutely soaked right now.” He gives you a smile, tilting his head to the side as he does. His fingers had slipped inside the waistband of your pants, and are now circling the lace fabric of your panties.

You feel yourself clench around nothing as his fingers tease your core. You let out an involuntary moan, rutting your hips down against his touch. He gets the hint and shimmies your jeans down your legs, and you slip out of them after quickly taking your shoes off. You meet his gaze again as he tugs his jeans down slightly, pulling his cock free from the thin fabric of his boxers.

And - oh my god - he’s fucking huge. Thick and long with a dripping pink tip. You swallow, hard, and you swear you feel your mouth start to water. Suddenly you can’t figure out how you’ve survived this long without him, and you certainly won’t be able to after this.

“Get on your fucking knees, babydoll” he purrs, lips inches away from your ear.

You oblige, of course, settling yourself so that your pussy rests on the toe of his combat boot, aching for whatever friction you can get. You take his cock into your mouth without further instruction from the rockstar, and he inhales sharply above you.

“Fuck, baby, shit-“ Eddie groans, collecting your hair in one of his hands and tugging, his cock twitching slightly in your mouth.

“What, big shot, can’t handle it? Should I tell the press that Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin comes three seconds into a blowjob?” you tease him, but you can’t ignore the way your head spins at his praise.

“Shut up and fucking suck it, sweetheart- I can handle it.” He hisses.

You don't need further instruction. Your tongue works on his cock, licking a stripe up his length and then kitten-licking the tip. Eddie’s seeing stars as you engulf him entirely in your mouth once again. You go at it for a while before he feels you rutting yourself against his boot.

His laugh is devious, wicked. “So desperate for me huh, sweet thing? Gonna get yourself off while you suck my cock, baby?”

You want to retaliate, taunt him back, do anything to make yourself seem like more than a pathetic fucking whore for him, but you’re dripping through your panties and the friction is so, so delicious you can’t stop your movements. Warmth is beginning to pool in your stomach and you need this release. You take him as deep into your mouth as you can, his tip practically nudging the back of your throat, gagging around him. Eddie thinks he might die, seriously, this is it for him. ‘Rockstar Dies In Supply Closet With His Dick Out’ he can see the tabloid headlines now. He tugs your hair and holds your head still as he starts to fuck into your mouth, reveling in the moans and mewls you let out beneath him.

“Shit, sweetheart, you feel s’fucking good around my dick-" he grunts, throwing his head back as he picks up his pace. "Go ahead and touch yourself for me, sweet girl. I know you need more." He says roughly.

You happily let him throat-fuck you as you tug your panties down slightly, bringing a hand down to allow your fingers to rub harsh circles into your clit. You feel yourself getting closer, a coil tightening more more more as he fucks into the heat of your mouth. You can sense his movements getting erratic, and you glance up to look at his face. He's delirious, so fucked out, and you feel as if you could melt into a puddle right here at his feet as you watch him.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, sweetheart, shit- you want it in your mouth?” He asks you, brown eyes blown out wide as he awaits your response.

You nod, mouth too full of him to speak, and you squeeze his heavy balls in your free hand as he thrusts faster faster faster into your mouth. He lets out a strangled moan as his cock twitches, ropes of hot cum coating your tongue. You quicken your pace on your aching clit and it doesn't take long for the coil in your stomach to snap. You cum all over your fingers and Eddie's boot that still rests beneath you, as he finishes riding out his high above you. He watches you as you swallow his load and he silently swears to himself he’ll do whatever he can to have you like this more often.

“Fuck, baby, you soaked my shoes huh? You okay?” He asks you tenderly, grabbing your arms to pick you up off the floor and steady your shaking frame. You nod, collapsing against him, head pressed to his chest. The two of you stay like that for a while, listening to each others heavy breaths before Eddie finally breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry for being a dick about having you on the song, okay?” He says, his voice softer and far more unsure than you've ever heard it. “You made it better- I really fucking mean that.”

“I know I did.” you reply, shifting to meet his gaze, and he smiles at you. “A few more rounds of this," you gesture around the two of you, "and I think you’ll have made it up to me” you smirk at him.

“Alright, sweetheart, same place same time tomorrow?” Eddie teases, and you laugh. That’s a sound he thinks he could get used to.

•••

When the two of you walk back into the recording room, Eddie's neck littered with hickeys and mascara smudged around your eyes, no one says a damn word.

"'Honeycomb' take three anyone?" Eddie asks.

[tomscocksleeve]

Tokio Hotel Headcannon smut

Virgin female reader x tokiohotel

Summary: simple small scenarios of how the Tokio Hotel members would handle a virgin

Pairings: female reader x Tom kaulitz, female reader x bill kaulitz, female reader x Gustav Shäfer, Female reader x Georg Listing

Genre: Smut + fluff

Warnings: basic smut stuff

Tom kaulitz

Tom was your boyfriend of 3 years and you decided to have a little talk with him. “Baby… I think I’m ready to you know..” Tom looked at you and he gently grabbed your hands.

Of course he was excited but he wanted to make sure. “Are you sure mein Schatz? Are you really ready” you nodded and he smiled.

He placed you onto the bed gently taking your clothes off and then he stopped. He looked into your eyes before placing a gentle kiss and then asking “this might hurt a little love.. are you ready” you then nod and he kissed your cheek.

He then held your thighs open and he was telling you everything he would do so you wouldn’t panic. He gently started licking your clit and kissing your inner thighs to prep you and get you wet enough and he would kiss your hand. “

He would hold you as he fucked you gently and wouldn’t pick up pace unless you were ready

After the first round he would praise you and wipe the sweat off you and would ask if you were ready again or if you wouldn’t want to.

The second round he wouldn’t be so gentle but it be enough to pleasure both of you

For after care he would help you bathe/shower and then would snuggle you and rest his head on yours and would end the night watching a movie.

Bill Kaulitz

He would ask 1000 times if you were sure about this and would tell you anything that could possibly hurt to prepare you

To start off he would place kisses all on your body before removing your clothes and he’d be so soft and gentle.

He would wait until you were really wet before sticking it in to make sure not to cause any pain.

He would fuck you gently for the first few times until you were accustomed to going faster

For aftercare he would have snacks and water and other things out for you and he would make sure to shower with you and wash your body helping you every step of the way

He would let you paint his nails and he would paint yours as just a fun after activity.

Georg Listing

Once you confirm you were ready he would trust your answer and he would take care of you.

He would take your clothes off and place kisses everywhere praising your perfect body

He would make sure you were wet but he would also lube himself up to make it extra easy.

He would use protection and would kiss you and hold your hand as he fucked you.

For aftercare he would bathe with you and carry you to the living room to watch a movie to fall asleep to for the rest of the night.

Gustav Shäfer

Would give so many kisses just showing how thankful he is that you trust him to be ready for something so intimate.

He would have a little snack prepared for after because his cooking is just mwah chef kiss 💋

He would wear protection and he would run his hands up and down your body softly and giving kisses to your body like it needs worshipping

He would fuck you slowly and gently majority of the time never going rougher for your sake and to make sure nothing bad happens (like a condom breaking or hurting you)

He would praise you non stop and would just say how good you did and would place more kisses on your body

For aftercare the snack he already prepared with some water would be ready for you. He would cuddle with you on the bed and be super playful.

If you were too worn out to be playful he would cuddle you and rub your head until you fell asleep in his arms.

[thebadboyfanclub]

The Lover Of The Seven Kingdoms (Tywin x Reader)

First of all, I’m sorry but you cannot tell me anything when it comes to Tom hiddleston being the perfect young Tywin Lannister. Second, I love writing morally grey female characters and I wrote grant maester pycelle and mushroom in cause I wanted to show how a lot of male historians portray women in one way cause it’s just easier.

The lover of the seven Kingdoms” grant maester Pycelle had used as a description of (y/n) Martell, the second wife of Tywin Lannister, the symbol of femininity for a plethora of men in kings Landing, the mother of lord Ezra Lannister and lady Asena, the scandalous twins and one of the few bastards that later became legitimate and inherited Lannisport, then they had three more, lady Nymeria, Lady Zara and Lord Sorin, (y/n) was the secret passion of Tywin since she stepped foot at court, she was to be Joanna’s lady in waiting.

Her appearance was one carved by the Gods, long dark raven hair that curled down to her waist, olive skin, and almost black eyes, her lips thick, and a body as juicy as the fruits of her land, her twin brother Dorian had sent her to Kings landing as a way to show respect and also expand her horizons.

“Princess (Y/n) had relations with one of the bastards of house Dayne when she denied him the man gutted himself in front of her, Doran sends her away to avoid more scandals caused by her lustful appetite”

Mushroom note, Joanna liked her, she was smart and endearing, and she knew how to play her part, however, what Joanna had not taken in mind is that (y/n) stopped at nothing to get what she wants, in this case, it was the young Tywin Lannister, the tall man with muscles everywhere, blue eyes and blonde hair was the subject of desire for a plethora of ladies, none of them had the guts to go after him, (y/n) was not like them, she had her eyes set and the game had begun.

“My lord”

(Y/n) called for Tywin, the hour was quite late but Tywin was the hand of the king, the hour did not matter when they were things he needed to pay attention to, papers to be signed and payments to be settled.

(Y/n) had studied his schedule, Joanna was already in bed and Tywin was free, most of the servants were dismissed so they were no prowling eyes to catch her.

Tywin halted and turned to look at the girl that called for him, she wore a rather sheer dress which was unlikely of hers, Dornish people were always costumed to very light choices in clothing, still, this was a step further, if the candles burned a bit brighter Tywin would have been able to see… well everything.

“Princess (y/n), is there something wrong?”

“No, not exactly, I was hoping to talk to you, in private”

Tywin hesitated, (y/n) was just outside her chamber, she was holding the door open which meant that her choice of privacy was her room, still, curiosity about what it could be that needed to be discussed in such a secretive way was enough for his feet to go one and then the other inside.

(Y/n) closed the door before she spun to rest her back on the wood, a smirk playing on her lips as her plan was going smoother than she expected, the room was decorated in cherry red and gold colors, some orange as well and the intense smell of vanilla and musk took over Tywins senses.

“So, I would prefer it if you started talking”

“Do you like being the hand of the king?”

“You summoned me to ask me if you like my occupation?”

“No, I summoned you because I have a pair of eyes, eyes clear enough to see that something has been bothering you”

“Well I am flattered that the princess cares to ask for my well-being, however, I must go”

“You can’t lie to me Tywin, if it’s not your duty then it has something to do with me, you have been avoiding me, you can’t even look me in the eye”

Tywin once again chose to not speak he only made a b line for the door to which (y/n) was resting, she had managed to think of everything down to reaching for the handle when he did, making their hands touch, Tywin did not pull his away, he let it rest on top of hers as he towered over her and she looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Is it me, my lord? It is my presence that is bothering you?”

“No”

“No? You are breathing quite heavily, your eyes travel below my lips, and… dare I say you could have moved me if you truly wanted to, no one is here, my lord, you can confess to me”

“(Y/n)-“

“Go on, confess”

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she gawked at Tywin with lustful eyes with a hint of innocence, she had done this before, Tywin was a mere puppet, a bug that got caught in the spiders' web and was now waiting to experience her poisonous bite.

Her kiss could be described as venom, it made his entire body feel like it was burning and her touch was the only remedy, his addiction started and ended with her, he had been fantasizing about her every night, haunting him like a succubus and stealing the life out of him, at an instant he forgot everything, his wife, his status, his entire life would crumble if someone were to find them, none of it mattered, all that he cared about was to see her, take her.

He took her right on her window, some servants had even reported that they could see the young princess bareback as her moans grew some attention, alas none of them thought something of it, most of the castle had seen a generous amount of men go in and out of (y/n)s chamber at all hours of the night.

Tywin was in utter awe with (y/n), he almost felt like he would faint as he reached his high, it was the only time Tywin considered that (y/n) was a practitioner of dark magic. No other woman had held such power over him in this act.

“My lion”

She had whispered in his ear before she kissed him,(Y/n) was the perfect lover, every night he would slip from his chamber and knock on her door, she would be waiting for him, take him up to the sky, and wrap him with her fire that burned as bright as dragon fire.

Tywin was entirely himself around her, she allowed him to be in control and gave him the euphoric theatrics of prowling on her, which made (y/n) giggle a little, it was refreshing and borderline hilarious to move the strings in the background while Tywin thought he was moving them only because she let him touch them.

“I have exciting news”

“Which is?”

“Princess (y/n) is pregnant, how lovely would it be if we get to marry our children? We could secure Dorne and bind my friendship with her”

“We will do no such thing”

“Tywin, think about it if we-“

“You are forgetting an important thing Joanna, the princess is not married, who knows who the father of that bastard is, my child will not marry anyone of such low status”

What else could he have said? We can’t marry them cause they are siblings? Joanna would be crushed, Tywin had run to her chamber that night, not even bothering to knock as he burst into the room startling her, still once she laid her eyes on him she smiled, she dared to smile as if nothing has happened.

“How dare you announce your pregnancy without even telling me first”

“I thought you had noticed”

“No, I hadn’t and Joanna wants to marry your child with one of our children”

“I am sure we will find a way around it”

“Find a way around it? How are you so calm when the world is crumbling on your feet? You are not married nor betrothed, this child will be declared a bastard”

“This child will be my firstborn, a child created by you and me if you remember, that is all that matters to me”

“Not to the rest of the realm”

“I do not care about the rest of the realm Tywin, that is your problem, it will be royalty in Dorne, I do not care what they call my child here”

“Some said she bathed in goats blood every full moon, she would burn candles and speak in foreign languages to make Tywin stay by her side”

Mushroom claimed, it could be true or just whispers since no one understood the powerful hold that she had on the young lord, Tywin was a fearsome man, calculated and ambitious, yet (y/n) could sway him in any direction she wished with a bat of an eyelash.

It was such a peculiar moment, (y/n) gave birth to twins four moons after her lady Joanna, Ezra and Asena, both of them had their fathers' eyes, sapphires that shined in the light of the sun as (y/n) fed them from her breasts, Tywin had held Asena first, she looked nothing like Cersei still something in him knew that the two girls were born to be each others nemesis, fate had played him like a fiddle.

“I was thinking of going back to Dorne”

“Why?”

“My brother said it is not safe for us, people will talk and I do not want my children to grow up in a venomous environment”

“No, no you will stay, Ezra and Asena Hill has a nice ring to it”

“They are Martells, my love, they shall be called that”

(Y/n) was not ashamed of her children, on the contrary, she adored them and kept them by her side at all times, she taught them how to walk, talk, sing, and dance, a endearing mother with a backbone made of Valyrian steel, a combination made straight out of the seven rings of hell.

“Push, my lady”

“I can’t, (y/n) please make it stop”

“Maester, what is taking so long?”

“The babe has breached, it will not let me pull it out”

“It hurts (y/n)”

“I know, my lady, just one more push”

Joanna fought tooth and nail to survive, unfortunately, her labor did not harvest any fruit for her, the son survived but Lady Joanna did not even get to hold him, grant Maester pycelle held Tyrion and presented him to lord Tywin who was utterly disgusted by the ugly creature.

“That is no son of mine, throw him in the river”

“You will do no such thing”

“This matter does not concern you, princess”

“It does, you may be excused maester”

Pycelle only nodded and left them alone, a strange aura surrounded both of them, Joanna was gone, a deformed babe had taken her life, and (y/n)s belly was ready to pop any minute, what was to be done now?

“Does cruelty excite you?”

“Cersei and Jaime are both healthy and Lannister featured, that… thing could not have been created by me”

“It was not the babes' fault, so I have to remind you that you are also guilty of the thing you are accusing a dead woman of?”

Tywin was a man but that meant little to nothing, if Tyrion was a bastard then there was no difference between him and (y/n)s children, Tywin was in no place to frown upon such an act since he was having another child on the way, a bastard.

“Listen to me, my love, I know you loved Joanna and I loved her too, but the babe survived, it’s the last thing we have from her, grief is a strong emotion, but we have each other to lean on, don’t you want this for us Tywin? for me?”

There it was, her secret weapon, that sweet voice that dripped of honey and the big doe eyes, she knew how to play the damsel in distress down to every detail, Tywin put his lips in before he shook his head in defeat, his wife had departed but his mistress stood before him, demanding a place at his table and life, which he was willing to give her.

-

Cersei was frantic, the announcement of her father's betrothal to the princess (y/n) and the reaffirmation of her bastard children had brought her to an utmost stage of rage that she was going around her room like a hurricane, she was throwing things and cursing as loud as her lungs allowed it.

How could he do this to her? To her family? That woman had slithered her way into their life like a snake and was now feasting over her mother's dead body, this was just plain disrespectful to her mother.

Tywin found Cerseis handmaidens outside her chamber as the sounds that came from it could put to shame any wild animal, the ladies looked frightened and not one of them dared to go in, however, all of them tried to warn him in leaving the lady be, suggesting that this has probably happened before.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“Get out”

“Young lady I advise you-“

“Shut up! I don’t want to listen to you! How could you marry her?! How could you do this to my mother?”

That was the last thing she said before a harsh slap landed on Cerseis's cheek, the girl was taken back by the act since her father had never hit her, he would discipline her but mostly by raising his voice or finding peculiar tricks of punishment, for Tywin to get physical with his daughter meant that she had gone too far.

“You do not get to judge my decisions, you will welcome your brother and sisters and you will be nice to my wife whether you like it or not, did I make myself clear?”

Silence only looks that could kill were exchanged

“Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes Father”

“My love?”

(Y/n) walked into the room, she had heard everything although she chose to reside in the act of being clueless, Tywin had turned away from his daughter and walked to his soon-to-be wife’s side, his hand found hers and brought it up to his lips, (y/n) smiled fondly before she scanned the room with her eyes, a puzzled look on her face as the room was upside down.

“What has happened? Is the young lady alright? The handmaidens were stuttering when I asked about the noises”

“Yes, no need to worry, my dear, Cersei was just redecorating”

“Oh, well if she wishes I can help with that”

“No, no, Cersei is quite specific, she prefers doing things her way, hence this scenery, we should live her”

“As the young lioness wishes, but before we leave”

(Y/n) took a few steps so she can stand ahead of Cersei, Cersei truly felt like a lioness, one that was trapped in a cage to be exact, as much as Cersei wanted to believe she could outsmart anyone (y/n) had years up on the horse, so naturally she was now trotting past Cersei with her caring smile and eyes that lit up, Cersei was left to looking like a kid that threw a tantrum whilst (y/n) looked like a mother that did her best to keep the peace.

“I know you are angry at me, I would be too, I will not try to be your mother, I do however hope that one day you will view me as your ally or your friend even”

(Y/n) went to caress Cerseis cheek which Cersei flinched away from that earned her a cold hard stare from her father, (y/n) only bit her lip in defeat, then it was replaced by a smile of hope, (y/n) genuinely wanted things to go as smooth as possible, to keep all of Joanna's children close to her, it was the least she could do she wasn’t a complete monster, as much as Cersei liked to think of her as one.

“Perhaps it’s too soon, I am asking way too much of you, I hope you have a great day, sweetling”

“Put everything back in its place, now”

Tywin instructed in a stern voice before they exited the chamber that Hurricane Cersei was occupying, Tywin was sure that she would throw something at the door once it was closed and he stood correct when a loud bang was heard.

“She is a young girl that lost her mother, having an attitude with me is inevitable”

“Cersei is not a normal young girl, she has a superiority complex over everyone, our children will not interact with her yet”

“That won’t be a problem, Asena is not… fond of Cersei either”

“I wonder why, let us not think of Cersei right now, it is time for Nymeria to be fed”

“See how beautiful it sounds when it rolls off the tongue? And you wanted to name her Lydia”

Since this babe was the first legitimate child of Tywin and (y/n) he had the suggestion of picking the name of the beloved girl, on the contrary (y/n) was not budging, she was adamant on naming her daughter after the biggest warrior queen Dorne has ever known, her precious Nymeria.

“The princess never wanted to marry lord Tywin, she was far more interested in keeping their relationship private, howbeit Lord Tywin was too consumed by his emotions for her to consider the fact that the princess could have been wed, she simply chose not to”

Grant maester Pycelle added when asked about their wedding. (Y/n) did not care about her children being legitimate or owning land, Dorne was her home, her brother had congratulated her on the birth of her twins and even offered to have them in Dorne, and her family was delighted by (y/n) bringing forth new heirs for the Martells, it was only Tywin that wanted to make it official, to let everyone know that the princess was now cloaked by the lion, her life as the lady of the rock had begun and Dorne had entered a land that they never really thought of earning.

“In a day you will be my wife, therefore, my children’s good mother, I expect them to treat you as such”

“I do not, Tywin they are in mourning, you cannot expect them to make it easy for me”

“I am not dimly witted my dearest, I know they will have some thoughts over our marriage, albeit I will make sure they keep it to themselves”

Requests are open!

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Thirty

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Finally!”

The yowl of delight echoed through camp. Several heads turned with surprise that lightened into amusement as their eyes found Cloudpaw and Ashpaw bouncing around together, cheering.

“Finally, we’re going!” Cloudpaw shouted, nearly crashing into his sister, had she not deftly stepped out of the way.

Speckletail poorly restrained a chuff. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go before, but we’re making up for it now.”

“Oh, it’s so fun!” Brightpaw batted Cloudpaw with a light paw, getting him to stop and turn to face her. “You’ve got to meet Grasspaw and Badgerpaw, they’re both super cool and nice.”

“I wanna meet all the other apprentices!” Cloudpaw crowed. “And the leaders, and—”

“And I bet I’m bigger than all of ShadowClan!” Ashpaw interrupted, pausing in his bouncing to wriggle like he was about to tackle his brother. “They’re gunna be so scared of me!”

Fireheart watched the pair gabble to each other for a moment, tickled at the elation, before looking to Aspenpaw and asking, “Are you excited, too?”

Aspenpaw tilted her head thoughtfully. “Yeah, it’ll be nice, but I kinda wanted to stay home. I told Goldenflower I could watch Bramblekit and Tawnykit for her…”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Speckletail said kindly. “Frostfur and Willowpelt are there to help her. You just enjoy your first Gathering.”

With the work you put into making this as pleasant as possible, Fireheart thought, I’m sure it’ll be fun for everyone.

Speckletail had been the one to announce which cats were going; to the Clan’s unanimous relief, she also announced that she would be going in Bluestar’s place. The youngest apprentices and Fireheart had been selected, with Darkstripe being left at home (also to everyone’s relief, Fireheart’s especially). Teaselfoot, Mousefur, Dustpelt, and Sandstorm were the last picks, all of whom were happy to go and were chatting to each other about this cat they were hoping to catch up with and that gossip they heard about something or other.

The younger cats with reasons to be friendly and confident. Perfect for keeping up appearances that we’re all doing fine. Fireheart’s whiskers twitched. Thank the stars Sandstorm’s in a good mood tonight.

“Everyone ready?” Speckletail called, and turned at the several nods she received. “Then let’s go. Whitecloud, you’ve got everything?”

The lanky tom dipped his head. “We can handle ourselves until you get back. Good luck.”

With a flick of her tail, Speckletail started off out of camp, the Gathering party trotting along after her. The tom apprentices visibly restrained themselves from racing ahead, though Ashpaw walked a little too quickly and had to slow down multiple times.

“Shame the clouds are out,” Sandstorm remarked once they reached the burned part of the forest. “Think Suriin’s upset with us?”

Mousefur shook her head. “It’s just the season. We’re bound to have a little weather no matter what. And why would she be upset in the first place?”

“I’unno.” Sandstorm kicked at a charred pebble as she walked. “We don’t have our leader with us?”

“That’s not our fault,” Dustpelt said firmly. “We’re doing the right thing by our Clan. She’s not well enough to lead.” He looked at the apprentices moving alongside him. “If anyone asks, just say she’s sick.”

A sigh escaped Fireheart before he could stop it, a mingling of frustration and grief. Every eye flicked over to him and he shut his mouth, staring straight ahead. Sandstorm, just a bit ahead of him, gave him a sympathetic face and lightly tapped his shoulder with her tail before turning forward again.

Nothing else was said—even the apprentices were more subdued—until they stepped into the untouched clearing of the neutral grounds. The dead grass was dusted with whatever snow was able to cling onto such a thin surface, leaving the ground as icy mud.

“Go ahead,” Speckletail said to a vibrating Cloudpaw and Ashpaw.

The pair didn’t wait, streaking forward with shouts of joy. Fireheart had a fraction of a heartbeat where he was terrified for Cloudpaw, before he mentally kicked himself with the reminder that this was a time of peace and friendship. From here, he recognized the vibrant patched pelts of RiverClan, with tiny and dark dots announcing ShadowClan. WindClan was nowhere to be seen, but he was sure they’d show up very soon. All of the Clans, regardless, would be kind to his nephew.

ThunderClan’s party arrived to greetings from the other Clans. Fireheart caught up to Cloudpaw, who had stopped just on the edge of the crowd and was looking around, a little lost.

“Let’s meet with my friend, if he’s here,” Fireheart said to him. “He has an apprentice, too. Badgerpaw, his cousin.”

“Oh!” Cloudpaw perked up out of his confusion. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Ashpaw poked his head out of the crowd, a couple cats having to lean back a bit to let him through. “Can I come?”

“Of course,” Fireheart said with a soft chuff. He led the pair around the edge of the gathered cats, head lifted a little higher to see if he could find…

There he was, just visible towards the front.

“Rainpath!” Fireheart called.

The little spotted tom looked over and pricked his ears, blinking his wide eyes. “Fireheart, hello!”

“I’ve got someone for you to meet.” Fireheart paused as the tom approached (notably, without his apprentice) and gently nudged Cloudpaw forward. “This is my nephew, Cloudpaw.”

Rainpath very clearly had some thoughts, going by his eyes going huge and his head cocking to the side, but all he said was, “Blessings, chrii. It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m Rainpath.”

Cloudpaw’s energy seemed to sap out as he shyly shuffled his feet. “Hello.”

Ashpaw defensively stepped up alongside his brother and puffed out his chest. “I’m Ashpaw. I’m his brother.”

The ShadowClan warrior (who, Fireheart realized with some amusement, was not much taller than Ashpaw) recovered from his shock and bowed his head respectfully. “Blessing upon you, Ashpaw. I wish my cousin was here to meet you.”

“Badgerpaw?” Aspenpaw asked, coming up to them. “I heard Fireheart say that.”

“Indeed.” Rainpath nodded. “Am I right to think you are their sister?”

“Aspenpaw.” The molly nodded back. “Hi.”

“She’s the apprentice of the deputy,” Fireheart added.

“Oh, yes, I wanted to ask—” Rainpath leaned forward and lowered his voice. “How does Bluestar fare? I heard she wasn’t well at the last Gathering.”

Fireheart’s spirits fell immediately. “She’s…”

“Excuse me.”

The little group all looked up in surprise—a rather tall and lithe blue-grey RiverClan molly had just stepped out of the crowd, a pair of little grey faces behind her.

“Greetings,” Rainpath said cheerfully. “I don’t believe I’ve met you.”

“Call me Mistfoot.” The molly cocked her head at him, but her eyes stayed on Fireheart. “You’re Mosspelt’s kittypet friend, aye?”

Fireheart purred. “Aye. How can I help you? Is she looking for me?”

“She’s at home.” The molly stepped to the side. “But I, ah, heard your apprentices talking, and I wanted to have mine meet some jolly strangers. Come along, you two.”

The grey faces emerged, followed by grey bodies. The tom had unusually long fur, stone-colored with a few white markings on his toes, chest, and chin, his eyes amber and bright. The molly, larger than her brother, had the standard RiverClan fur length, the color silver-and-white, her stripes greyer than what silver usually had to offer, and her face—

Her face.

Hard and noble for such a young apprentice, with serious light green eyes.

“This is Stormpaw,” Mistfoot explained, her paw resting on the tom’s head. “And this is his sister, Mintpaw.”

They look just like their parents.

Fireheart stared at them, transfixed.

“Hi!” Ashpaw trotted over to them. “I’m Ashpaw of ThunderClan. That’s my brother, Cloudpaw, and my sister, Aspenpaw.”

Aspenpaw bowed her head. “Hi.”

Mintpaw lounged her head to one side. “Hello. You’ve a pretty face.”

Aspenpaw blinked and her ears went back. “Thank you, er– I like yours too.”

“Don’t go making her bashful, duckling.” Mistfoot lightly tapped Mintpaw with her paw. “You know how ThunderClan is about that.”

Stormpaw, meanwhile, peered at Cloudpaw with great curiosity. “Did you get your face in some red silt or something? And your tail, and—”

Cloudpaw made a face and looked down. “I just look like this.”

“Really!” Stormpaw reared his head back, eyes wide with wonder. “You must be a point, then. I heard that’s a kittypet thing. Are you a kittypet?”

“He is not!” Ashpaw marched up a few steps to stand to the side but ahead of Cloudpaw. “He’s my brother! ThunderClan all the way.”

“Wow…” Stormpaw looked up at Fireheart. “But you’re a kittypet, right?”

Mistfoot sighed with exasperation. “Stormpaw…”

Fireheart purred. “I was, yes.”

Stormpaw looked to his sister. “Can you believe—?”

A rusty call sounded off and Stormpaw clamped his mouth shut. All of the cats lifted their heads to the flat boulder, where the leaders and Speckletail sat. Somehow, Rookstar and his Clan had come without Fireheart noticing. He forced himself to look away from the twins and pay attention to the leaders.

“Evening, everyone!” Crookedstar said, jolly as ever. His eyes lifted to the sky. “Suriin, I hope you aren’t cross with us tonight; you keep passing clouds over the moon! But we have news to give, and friends to gossip to, so let’s get this done quickly and continue our conversations.” He looked to Speckletail, lowering his voice a little. “First, as I’m sure everyone is curious about: is Bluestar well to have sent you in her place?”

Speckletail didn’t miss a beat. She stood up straight and spoke loudly and clearly. “Bluestar has been den-ridden with a sickness we rarely see. I’ve been taking over Clan responsibilities so that she can rest and let that sickness get out of her system.” She returned attention to Crookedstar. “It’s unfortunately made her a little confused about time passing. Her fever is palpable from a paw away.”

Concerned and sympathetic murmurs followed this. To Fireheart’s relief, no one questioned this, although Rookstar’s eyes were scrutinizing.

“Well, let’s pray the old girl recovers quickly,” Crookedstar said, ears back unhappily. “I hope the rest of your news is better.”

“It is.” Speckletail continued to talk to the crowd. “The forest has been generous to us in these desperate times, and our newest apprentices, Cloudpaw, Aspenpaw, and Ashpaw, are doing well in their training. We’ve also lost any scent of the dogs; we hope that means they’re gone.”

“It doesn’t,” Rookstar said quietly.

Speckletail blinked and looked at him. Silently, she sat down, and he stood up.

“They’re in our territory now,” he said. “They killed Gorsepaw.”

The crowd gasped or muttered in horror, and even Crookedstar lost his cheery demeanor. Fireheart and Rainpath looked at each other in grieved shock.

“Poor Wrenwhisker,” Rainpath whispered.

Fireheart nodded in agreement.

“The dogs disappeared before we found him.” Rookstar sighed so quietly Fireheart almost didn’t hear him. “We haven’t scented them since.”

Blackstar regarded the twiggy leader next to him with sympathy in his normally-stoic expression. “You have our sorrow.”

“Hm,” was all Rookstar said. He sat down heavily and looked at Blackstar in return.

Blackstar stood. “Loners have been avoiding our patrols in the Aulmir. We’ve no idea why; we have no quarrel with them, nor have they with us. At least, not recently.” His eyes glinted. “At the very least, we do not compete for our meals. We eat better than usual.”

“Congratulations on that,” Crookedstar said. “You do look a little less skeletal than you often are in winter.”

Blackstar gave him a dry look, but said nothing, only retreating back for Crookedstar to take his place.

“Well, we haven’t seen the dogs either,” the patched tabby said. “Which is fortunate for us, because we have kits that need to explore and train with their Clanmates! Four of them, in fact. Plumpaw and Dapplepaw, and my very own grandkittens, Stormpaw and Mintpaw!”

Stormpaw puffed out his chest, just like Silverstream had when Fireheart had met her at his first Gathering. Mintpaw yawned.

“That’s all from us,” Crookedstar finished. “Now, finish up your chats, my friends, and we’ll all be on our merry ways before Suriin sends more snow.”

As usual, conversations continued, some as if they had never been interrupted. Fireheart looked at the apprentices, who were comparing tail-lengths, and then to a sad Rainpath.

“I pray Wrenwhisker is well,” the little tom said quietly. “Losing his apprentice like that…”

“It’s horrible,” Fireheart agreed, heart full of icy thorns. “I wish he was here, so I could tell him I’m sorry.”

Rainpath said nothing, but his expression told on him as he watched the apprentices. He was afraid the same thing would happen to another apprentice. His own, perhaps.

I know that fear, Fireheart wanted to say, but kept in his mind. You’re not alone. I feel it too.

[rtfics]

Seeing BJ2 the 3rd time.

LONG & FILLED WITH SPOILERS

SO much to think about, and my memory is shit.

I rapidly scribbled notes during the film. But when I got home and tried to read them:

So here's an overview. I'll post other details if I ever translate my notes.

First, the casting was perfection. I'd never seen Jenny Ortega, Justin Theroux, and Monica Bellucci before, so for me they were the characters.

It was interesting that the film opens with the Warner Brothers Studio lot in black & white. Why B&W? It sort of sets the tone.

Donna Summer singing lines from "MacArthur's Park" was a foreshadowing. This film was made by a guy who was a teen in the 70s, and it's for others his age (he's only 2 years older than me). BJ2 is packed with 70s nostalgia that only those who were alive then would get.

This sequel was also made for die-hard fans of the original Beetlejuice. Burton took special care to give us the Winter River we love, but updated it to show the story and its characters aren't stuck in the past. The covered bridge is there, the church, cemetery, Miss Shannon's, and fire station are there, and so is the Maitland's building, but it's a coffee shop now.

Seeing Lydia as shell-shocked and pill-popping threw me, but the plot gave it sense (I'll go into detail in a separate post).

Rory, OMFG, I've known Rory. Anyone who's had anything to do with the entertainment/media biz, even peripherally, knows Rory. His "enabler" bullshit was so spot-on; faking that he's going to get Lydia off her dependency on drugs while keeping her hooked by making it seem that he's doing it because she's begging him. Classic user methodology. You just know he's the one who got her on "coping" pills in the first place; all the better to manipulate her. I loathed him immediately.

I adore what they did with Delia. It completely fucking made sense, and followed what's happened in the modern NYC Arts scene. I love how she and Lydia now get along, I mean, shit, Lydia's in her 50s and Delia's in her 70s, they're both middle-aged women, and, bless their hearts, the screenwriters and Burton made them act like grown women.

Astrid seemed older than 16 to me, but hey, I'm not around teenagers these days. I appreciated that she wasn't a brat. Her resentment and having her back up were appropriate for her family situation; a beloved father whose body was never found (I think); a mom always working or promoting because of Rory, doped on pills and famous for being a ghost-seeing nutjob, who can't see Astrid's father. That's a lot to deal with.

The way they handled Charles was perfect, especially his claymation demise. His afterlife body was comically gross, and an ingenious way of including Charles in the film without having to recast another actor, except for his voice. Charles being in the Netherworld provides a great thread to Delia's later death. His headstone being the shape of a shark's fin was a humorously grim touch.

The Sylvia Young Theatre School Choir sang at Charles' funeral, and their voices were beautiful.

Arthur Conti was fantastic as Jeremy (70s teens remember his grandfather, Scottish actor Tom Conti). His American accent was flawless. He was the perfect balance of cute and mature, and his niceness made his being evil all the worse; while Astrid says the incantation you can see him slightly out of focus behind her, smiling in a chilling way. I love that there isn't the slightest hint that he's a multiple murderer, and of his own parents! When he's about to get his passport stamped he shows absolutely no remorse toward Astrid, which makes his damnation all the sweeter.

Beetlejuice . . . . What can I say? Michael Keaton created Beetlejuice as we know him, and he fit right back in character as easily as drawing breath. His body language, his weird way of walking, his expressions, everything is just as you'd expect Beej to be. But then we get to see more! I can't express how happy I was to see Beej's origin story, which turned the throw-away line about having a pretty good time during the Black Death into something more substantial. Seeing Keaton as human Beej was a delight.

An important detail was that, even though Beej says his heart had long since withered, he fell for Delores. He says he was "bewitched." Perhaps not love, but lust certainly. It's quite clear that Delores was much higher in social station than Beetlejuice, so he must have thought he'd won the lottery with her choosing him. My god, his ego had no problem with his drunken ass being hauled to bed by his new wife, and his enthusiasm was huge. I love that they gave him the gut in his human form (Keaton doesn't have one).

Richard was the nice guy I hoped he would be. But it was telling that, when he says goodbye to Lydia at the ladder in the mausoleum, they don't hug. They don't even shake hands. It shows the truth of Lydia's previous statement to Astrid that she and Richard's relationship had ended long before his death.

Wolf is every 70s crime drama/movie distilled. Hammy, over the top, constantly spouting his Catch Phrase.

Why are there so many shrunken head guys? And why did Beej hire people who can't talk to answer his phones? It's loony and fits the Netherworld random logic. They're Beej's Minions.

I've seen a lot of people on tumblr, as well as professional movie critics, say there were "too many villains" and that the plot was "too hard to follow."

For those who agree with this, I recommend you never attempt to read anything by Charles Dickens, Alexandre Dumas, Victor Hugo, Edgar Allan Poe's detective stories, or Agatha Christie. Because your brains would fry.

Look, there are two villains. Just two.

Delores poisoned Beetlejuice, he killed her with an axe in revenge, in the Afterlife she reassembles and hunts him down, killing others in her wake, which sets Wolf Jackson and the Ghoul Squad after her, until she's defeated with a sandworm.

Rory has been manipulating Lydia, keeping her doped, gas-lighting her, until under the Truth Serum injected by Beej he spills the beans and Lydia rejects him, until he's eaten at the same time as Delores by the sandworm.

As for "Delores and Rory weren't given enough story," what more do you want? How Delores joined a soul-sucking cult? How Rory became a user, seeking out vulnerable, grieving women to exploit? We learn as much as we need to. Anything more would have stuffed the film with unnecessary crap.

The only shit I didn't care for was the baby.

The whole Counseling scene was a big gross-out, and I'm sure Tim Burton intended it that way. The original couldn't have been more gross than it was or it would have earned an R Rating, keeping out everyone under the age of 18 (21 in some states; this was the 80s). But now, Burton could be a lot more graphic. I was stunned that he had Lydia go through the "pregnancy," but it obviously didn't hurt her. For me Babyjuice has no point. It doesn't advance the plot, and its reappearance only drives home the weirdness of the ending.

What the ever fuck was the ending??

Especially Astrid giving birth to the Beetlebaby. It would suggest Beetlejuice is its father, which means he and Astrid had sex. Which we can be pretty sure they didn't . . ? In the counseling scene Beej refers to the baby as his "inner child." So its not his literal child? Even so, why would Astrid give birth to it the same way her mother did?

I've read all the theories about the ending, and at this point one's as good as the other. Perhaps that's the point: To keep us all guessing. Because I'm sure, all along, there's been a plan for Beetlejuice 3, IF this movie was a hit. If it wasn't, if it bombed (since 2010 all of Burton's films have bombed), the ending would lead to speculation forever, to people writing fucking dissertations about its symbology and metaphors, etc.

But if it was a hit, which it is, the seeds are there for a third and final film. But so fucking murky no one can guess what it'll be like.

The only part of the ending I liked was Beej shaking awake and saying, as he glances at Lydia, "I just had the weirdest dream." And Lydia looking over. Not terrified. Not screaming or leaping out of bed. Not seeing the indentation in the pillow and yelling in protest. Just staring.

Do I want a third film?

I love Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. I love it more every time I watch it. I accept everything in it as canon, even the baby, resentfully.

But Burton might fuck up the last one. He might do things I never wanted to be canon. When a sequel is made of a hit film, the creators sometimes become self-conscious. BJ2 wasn't, because it'd been 36 years since the original. They had no idea whether this version would fly. Since it has, massively, I'm afraid the screenwriters and Burton may become too aware of the audience and try to cater to it. OR they'll go the opposite direction and try to come up with a plot they think fans would never imagine.

So I'm pretty much stuck in the same place I was before I saw Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. Wary, skeptical, and cynical.

[geminibsworld]

teachers pet pt.4

warnings: smut, slow burn, jealousy, whatever yk idk i just write shit LOL

summary: daisy and tom continue to sneak around

🫧the other parts are on my masterlist def read those before this 🫧

🌿

daisy bit tom’s bottom lip teasingly, he hums in response, his rougher hands gliding on her back. her hands pulling on his expensive dress shirt not caring about wrinkles, tom and daisy kiss. he pants into the kiss, she lets go of his shirt, as her fingers go for his waist band, he pulls away as one of his hands catches her wrist. his forehead on hers, he places a small kiss on her lips, she pouts at him. he smiles before pulling away, and returning to sit at his desk. daisy crossed her legs turning and facing him. she watched him start up his laptop, and he slid on his glasses to start on the computer. he sighs rubbing his forehead, as his phone rings, he ignores it typing in his log in information. the call ends, as another starts. daisy peaks at his phone, she knows who it is. his wife.

“aren’t you going to answer that?” she asks, humming, twirling his waves. his hair had gotten so long that two hooks peaked out behind his hair, she loved it. she especially loved tugging on it. he sighs making a face looking at daisy. he thought she was so beautiful, so beautiful that nothing else ever mattered.

“not when i’m with you,” he says, smiling at her. he then grabs his phone, and puts it on do not disturb. daisy laughs, shaking her head. she then pulled her legs up on the desk, her knees touching her chest. tom typed away on the computer, before they heard a knock the door.

“tom, it’s your wife,” a woman’s voice spoke, daisy and tom looked at each other. daisy hopped down, quickly grabbing her bag about to leave. tom held a hand out to her and opened the door, daisy stood motionlessly by a bunch of filing cabinets unsure of what to do.

“Michelle,” he says, annoyed. michelle shoves past him, looking around the room before her eyes land on daisy. she makes a face before turning to tom.

“this her?” she asks, pointing a manicured finger at daisy. daisy makes a face, her brows furrowed and she looked confused as ever.

“what?” daisy asks, confusion all over her face, she stepped forward, “how does she know about me?”

“oh please, he talks about you all the time. i’m surprised a small girl like you can handle him though,” michelle laughs, daisys cheeks burn as she looks at tom.

“what’re you doing here?” he asks, politely but his face said otherwise, “i’m working right now. i don’t need any distractions,”

“oh is that why she’s here?” michelle laughs, her brown hair in perfect curls. almost everything about her was perfect, daisy couldn’t help but feel weird.

“yeah.. i’m gonna go- i’ll see you later,” daisy says, looking down to leave, tom groans following her to the door. daisy turns and looks at him making a face, her eyes quickly going to michelle. michelle smirks leaning on his desk, eyeing the two.

“aw well aren’t you sweet? comforting your baby?” she asks, dryly, eyeing tom. tom scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“can you leave?” he asks, trying to plead her. michelle eyes daisy and tom, daisys eyes warred and cheeks burned from embarrassment. she didn’t know why she was crying. tom rubbed daisy hand, trying to comfort her the only way he could at the moment. he wanted to pull her into a hug, but he couldn’t.

“you’re no fun, tommy,” michelle says, smirking at him playfully before glancing at daisy one last time. daisy eyed michelle, blinking away her tears. tom sighed, squeezing daisys hand gently before pulling his hand away from her.

“well, i guess ill go.. what’s for dinner tonight tommy?” michelle asks, staring at him with a certain look in her eyes. daisy scoffed rolling her eyes before pulling out her phone, she wanted to text ellie to rescue her.

“just go, i’ll call you when im on the way home,” tom says, quietly his hands on michelle’s shoulders, reaching around her pulling the wooden door open pushing michelle out. daisy didn’t say a word as tom shut the door, he cleared his throat.

“i’m sorry- about her,” he says, walking up to her. he stands in front of her looking down at her, his eyes filled with worry as he searches daisys face. their eyes meet, and he sighs. pulling her into a tight hug, his arms wrapped around her completely enclosing her body. her arms slowly wrapped around his waist as she has her head laying below his chest. she sniffles and inhales his scent, reminding her he’s hers. the scent of expensive cologne and lavender filled her senses.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles, leaning down placing a kiss on the top of her head. rubbing her back softly, she sighs pulling away looking up at him, his hands lay on her waist. he stares at her, giving her a small smile.

“you’re so beautiful, you know that? so beautiful and sweet, like a daisy,”

🫧

daisy was in tom’s class today, she had felt weird ever since she met michelle. so weird, that she didn’t ever want to see or hear about michelle again. like she doesn’t exist.

“daisy, can you come up here please?” tom’s voice interrupts her thoughts, she glances at ellie before she stands up and walks up to him at his desk. he was on his lap top, wearing a loose sweater his collar bones showing and she noticed he was wearing a silver chain necklace.

“yes, Mr. blyth?” she asks, looking down at him. he smirks ever so slightly, before sliding a paper over. it says, ‘meet me after class’ she smiles at him grabbing the paper before returning to her seat next to ellie.

ellie glances at the paper, giving daisy a look. daisy giggles, crossing her legs bouncing her food against the seat in front of her.

“daisy,” a boys voice came from behind her, ellie and daisy turned around to look at him. it was jackson, a guy who has been obsessed with daisy for years. not in a creepy way, but in a ‘i want you so bad way’

“what,” daisy whispers, not wanting tom to look in her direction. jackson scoffs, ellie makes a face.

“what, dick?” ellie asks, attitude in her voice. daisy laughs, turning to look at him.

“chill el,” jackson laughs, before meeting eyes with daisy, “do you want to hang out later?”

“me? hang out with you?” daisy asks. quietly quickly glancing back at tom. ellie clears her throat, daisy snaps back. tom was staring right at them.

“uh- ill let you know later?” daisy says, turning around to face him quickly. he smirks, nodding at her. the bell rang, daisy and ellie began to pack up. as daisy stands up, she glances towards tom’s desk. he wasn’t there, she didn’t know where he was and she was nervous. she hoped he still wanted to meet.

ellie and daisy share a smile as ellie leaves daisys side, daisy walks to tom’s desk and peaks around. she walked towards the back where the auditorium was connected to the actual classroom, she saw tom. he looked annoyed, he was sweeping the stage.

“tom..” daisy says quietly, tom looks up at her and gives her a small smile. she smiles back walking closer to him. she stands in front of where he’s sweeping, with her hands clasped in front of her.

“you look beautiful as always my daisy,” he mumbles still sweeping, not looking at her. he sighs placing the broom against the wall, he wipes his hands on his jeans as daisy eyes his large, veiny hands.

“thank you, why did you want me to stay after?” daisy asks, cocking her head to the side. her hair falls behind her back. tom spins on his heel, his palms pressed against the wall. daisy makes a straight face, tom had a unreadable look on his face.

“what did he want?” tom asks, his brows furrowed at daisy. daisy lets out a dry laugh.

“really? this is what we’re doing?” she asks, shaking her head. tom shoves himself off the wall, walking towards her. daisy scoffs and rolls her eyes beginning to walk away.

“i asked you a question,” he says, grabbing daisy’s wrist. daisy snaps her head back, yanking her wrist away. her skin still burning where his hand was.

“fuck off,” she grumbles, walking away. tom follows behind her, she picks up the pace slightly. tom wraps his arms around daisy, engulfing her, she squeals as he picks her up.

“oh my god, are you fucking joking tom?” she groans loudly and dramatically. tom laughs, a true belly laugh. he shook his head, carrying daisy to his office slamming the door behind him.

he drops daisy on the ground, she scoffs at him. he turns and locks the door, before pulling daisy into him on the desk, she lets out a gasp. she stood between his thighs, his hands tight on her hips. she chewed her bottom lip anxiously, her doe eyes stared at him.

“now, i asked a question, remember? be a good girl for me and answer me,” he says, his voice low. his eyes searching all over her face, his finger tips digging into her bony hips. she makes a face, wincing.

“all he did was ask me to hang out, and i said i’d let him know, no big deal,” she shrugs, her eyes meeting tom’s eyes. the blue piercing into daisy’s green eyes. she felt her breath hitch as tom held his jaw tightly, his fingers digging into her harder.

“no big deal?” he says, his eyes trailing down her body. she nods quickly, agreeing with what he says.

“no big deal,” she confirms, tom lets go of her hips to grab her ass, she gasps as he pulls her completely into him. his face hard, as her jaw slacks at him.

“i’ll show you no big deal,” he mumbles, “bend over my lap for me,” his hands roughly squeezing the flesh under her skirt.

“w-what?” she asked, her anxiety rising. bend over his lap? what? he raises his brows at her, she gulps.

“be a good girl, and bend over my lap. now.” he says, his voice and low and husky. she couldn’t help but feel herself pool in her panties. her eyes widened at him.

“you heard me, get over here. please, i’m not gonna ask again,” he says, monotoned as ever. he pats his lap, she walks over to him slowly standing on the side. he places her hand on the small of her back, gently nudging her.

she slowly bends over his lap, she gulps feeling nervous. tom slowly pushes up her dress, his rougher hand feeling over her soft pale skin. gripping and squeezing the flesh, she could feel herself getting wetter by the second. she couldn’t help it, she found it embarrassing that she gets that wet. but it’s him. his hand smoothes over her soft flesh before his fingers dip between her cheeks sliding down slowly and teasingly. she anticipated him touching her. he tsk’d before he spoke.

“already so wet,” he mumbles, “so perfect,” he leans over to the side to look at her bent over his lap.

“i’ll do a few baby, promise. you’ll probably like it,” he says, she can hear the smile on his face. she chews her lip, biting the skin off her lip. he rubs the soft flesh some more, his finger dipping down and taking one finger teasing her clothed pussy. his finger teased her clit under the panties, she couldn’t help but let out a hiss. his finger softly rubbed between her folds. daisy lets out a small moan, her back arching into his touch.

“feel good baby?” he asks, almost mockingly. she nods bucking her hips gently. he chuckles at her.

he removes his hand, and she lets out a moan of disappointment. he laughs, before his hand meets her cheek. the pale flesh jiggled as a pink handprint appeared, a squeal escapes her lips. daisy felt her panties drench, his hand came down again. she moaned, loudly.

“yeah? be so fucking loud that little prick can hear you,” tom says, sarcastic and bitter. his hand flying down again, a red mark on her bottom. he couldn’t help but smirk at the site.

“one more baby, tell ‘em who’s mine,” he says, a smirk evident in his voice. daisy peels skin off her lips in anticipation and anxiety. his hand came down a lot slower, but still hard as he hit the same spot he’s been. the hand print red now. he liked how it looked on her. she was his.

daisy had tears in her eyes, she couldn’t help it. the pain stung but the pleasure made her feel good. tom coos as he rubs her red cheek.

“you did so good, now stand up for me,” her lip quivers as she sits up. he fixes her dress, his eyes racking in her body. then finally meeting her eyes, he stands up from his seat. he gives her a quick kiss on the forehead, before rubbing her cheeks with both of his hands.

“my good girl,” he smiles, kissing her again. her eyes red from the tears, and her cheeks stained. she smiles up at him, before he leans down pressing a lingering kiss to her lips.

“daisy- woah!” daisy and tom jump apart, a scream leaving their lips together. she holds her chest as she looks over and sees ellie. tom groans to himself.

“i would say get a room but that was my bad y’all,” ellie teases, smirking at them. tom can’t help but feel annoyed. daisys eyes glance at tom, before meeting ellie’s.

“that was cute by the way, the whole stroking her cheek and kissing her forehead,” ellie laughs, tom shakes his head walking away, leaving just ellie and daisy.

“are you serious el?” daisy complains, throwing her arms up. ellie laughs, not taking things serious at all.

“what? it was cute,” ellie shrugs, daisy groans.

“listen my bad- i didn’t even see you all till that. i won’t tell on him, fuck you’re my best friend.” ellie says, trying to help by offering a small smile.

“dude, he doesn’t care. he could fired for this. if you saw, who else would? his fucking wife knows already and we’ve met!” daisy throws her face in her hands as she leans against the wall. ellie pouts making a face before furrowing her brows, confused as ever.

“wait you met her?” ellie asks, suddenly. daisy makes a face rolling her eyes.

🕸️

daisy showed up tom’s apartment, wanting nothing more than to see him. it snowed today, the cloudy grey sky and ice on the trees matched daisys mood. she hadn’t seen tom in two weeks, he hasn’t even been at the college. he’s just been sending us work through our lap tops, she felt like she was going crazy.

she knocks on the door, feeling nervous her heart racing. tom opens the door, dressed in a black hoodie and sweatpants, he looks like he just woke up.

“morning,” he says, his voice gruff and cracked. she felt weak in the knees even after a simple word. her mouth opened to say something but nothing came out. he smirks, his hair a messly long. he stretches, while yawning his hoodie lifting up, his lower toned abdomen exposed. daisys eyes travel downwards, she felt her mouth go dry.

“daisy, it’s too cold for flowers. your cheeks and nose is so red,” he says, a soft smile on his cheeks. his hand reached out for hers, she reached her arm out her fingers grabbing his hand.

he pulls her into the warm apartment, pulling her into him. he kisses her, hard. she can’t help but let a noise in surprise, she then kisses them back. his hands tangled into her waves. her hands gripping his hoodie, they disconnect breathing heavy as they both pull off their hoodies. their lips reconnect again, his rough hand gripping her left breast his tongue softly gliding over her hard bud. their lips fighting against each other, she moans into his mouth. he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, their tongues wrestle. her hand reaches into his pants, grabbing his hard member. he groans into her mouth, his hand playing with her bud still. he pulls away and picks her up shoving her into the front door, he rips her leggings she lets out a loud gasp. he pulls down his pants, and spits in his hand before jerking off slowly before positioning him at her hole. he slowly enters her, her mouth falls into a ‘o’ shape. tom admires her as he slowly inserts himself inside of her. her pink lips falling open and her eyes squeeze shut.

“been thinkin about you the whole time. i’m surprised i didn’t see you sooner baby,” he moans, before pulling out and sliding all the way in again. she screams, tom moans as her tight gummy walls accept him.

“you feel so fuckin good,” he moans, his hips going at a steady pace. both of his hand cupping her fleshy ass, daisy moans a response. her nails digging into his biceps.

“fuck- tom i’ve missed you,” she cries out, her head hitting the wall with a thud. tom lets a out a laugh, and she begins to laugh to. his thrusts slow down, before he completely stops. daisy lets our a sad moan.

“don’t stop, please,” her hands stroking his toned arms. he nods with a small smirk before, continuing harder and faster. his hard dick inside of her, filling her up completely tapping her cervix.

“oh fuck,” she whimpers, he groans throwing his head back. his hips relentlessly pounding into hers. daisys eyes screw shut tightly as she begins to feel close.

“my pretty, sweet daisy. such a good girl, taking my cock so so well,” he coos to her, she whimpers as she begins to clench around him. he groans speeding up, before they both cry out loudly.

“oh fuck- daddy- fuck,” she moans out, a loud pornographic moan as tom moans, her name leaving his lips many times.

“my good girl, how i’ve missed you,” he says, collapsing onto her. his forehead against hers, she breathes heavily as she gives him a sweet kiss.

“i’ve missed you, so much.”’

[coffe-book-club]

i love you so 𓍢ִ໋🍂₊˚୨୧⋆｡

info: toxic tom kaulitz x sweet fem! reader

summary: not all that glitters is gold.

disclaimers: toxic relationship, bullying, mention of anal sex and blood, love bombing, handling, emotional dependence.

with this one-shot i'm absolutely not saying that tom kaulitz is a bad person, this is a figment of my imagination.

a month has passed. at first tom he seemed like the sweetest and most loving guy ever, he always wanted to carry my backpack, he always wanted to go to my favorite coffee shop, to get beagles with avocado and scrambled egg inside. always showed up at my door with a bouquet of beautiful flowers, to then prepare a dessert and then cuddle on the sofa watching gilmore girls, or simply spending the afternoon making love. write me love letters... in short he seemed like the perfect guy. but when we decided to let me get engaged again... he became the toxic and bad guy he always was again, as if he had transformed.

i wanted to give tom one more chance, because i still loved him. but he hasn't changed at all and will destroy everything that i build in this month. he made me believe that he was sweet and loving, while he was just manipulating and brainwashing me to have power over me again. my biggest mistake was to believe that he could really change.

he made me believe that he loved me, so that i would fall for him again. and this is the ultimate proof that he will never change. every time i give him a chance, he will break my heart once again.

i have always worked very hard at school, always taking a lot of notes during lessons and studying a lot at home and doing the homework assigned by the teachers. wanting to go to a good university, always getting the highest grades in the class, the professors and the dean always rewarded me in some way. but the only thing that has always mattered to me is making my parents proud and every time I show them my tests or go to parent and teacher interviews, they always come home with a twinkle in the eyes.

i work very hard in order to achieve my dream of studying at the best university in the country. i want to be able to make my parents proud too. and as my grades are among the highest of my class, my parents support me with everything. they want their daughter to be successful and also see how hard i work for it. i spend long hours, learning at home on my own, just to be successful because i know that it will make my parents proud. i want to achieve this dream of mine, at all costs, even if it means sacrificing much of my time and life.

after a long session of angry sex, where tom put me in every possible and imaginable position and with as many sex toys. now i'm lying on my stomach, with my legs still shaking. while tom is lying on his back, smoking a joint. while we are still naked, while with his free hand he continues to spank me. i observe his well-defined body. his beautiful face and his chest, his big cock, still perfectly hard and erect... “uhm... i feel so so good and satisfied. but i didn't even think that anal sex would hurt so much the first time”

“shut up! you are disgusting and no one cares about what you want or what you feel, fuck” i'm still lying on my stomach and tom is lying next to me. the bed is covered in my blood and sweat, and i can feel how much of an absolute failure i am. he looks at me with disgust and i remember the feelings i had only a few hours ago. i feel so ashamed of myself.

i feel a shooting pain in my chest, at the height of my poor heart. now too broken. numerous tears form on my eyes at his mean and cruel words.

i turn my face away, so i can watch the gray sky, from my window next to my bed. my sheets are slightly stained with blood and cum. afterwards i will have to wash them well by hand and then put them in the washing machine. “i'm so sorry”

“you should be sorry. you are the worst mistake of my life!” he still looks at me with disgust. he doesn't care that my heart is broken and that i feel so bad right now. he doesn't care that he completely destroyed me again, without any reason at all. he doesn't care about me or my feelings, he never has and never will. “you really thought i loved you and changed? you can only disappoint me” he says to me in a hateful way.

“but... but it's you who have returned to me, not i to you” my long hair falls on my white sheets with little blue flowers, while tears roll down my chubby cheeks slightly red from the long sex session. the sadness persists in my poor heart, now too broken and destroyed. from the person with whom i'm unfortunately still madly in love.

he chuckles in a cold way and shakes his head slightly. “tou always believed every word i said and believed in every lie that i told you. you always went back to me. it wasn't me who returned to you” he smiles at me, but his smile turns into a cold and hateful expression when he says the following words.

“i could never love you, you useless hoe” he just wanted to break me, to get me back to him, so he could destroy my self-esteem and confidence once again. i close my eyes, letting my salty tears roll down my cheeks, not saying a single word. i had given him my heart right away. i had given him all my love and sweetness, thinking that he could love me too. but i was wrong. i close my eyes and the tears continue to roll down my cheeks. i'm so sad right now and i feel so broken. he doesn't care at all what he's saying and how he's hurting me. “you are useless, you can't do a single thing! you are not good for anything at all”

the words hurt me deeply. and i think about how i always tried to make him happy, but it was never enough for him. i sniffle, then get out of bed and sit down with difficulty. my butt hurts really bad, but the pain in my heart almost makes me forget the pain of the long anal sex session. i bring my hands closer to my cheeks, to try to dry them. under her expectant gaze and his cold heart.

“you are so stupid! you have wasted everything i have said to you. and that little brain of yours will never be able to change. you are a stupid ho and will always be one” he says to me, his expression not showing a single emotion. i hear his cruel words, which only break my heart more. i still remember how he said he loved me and now i feel so stupid, because i believe his words again. i didn't learn a thing from the last months.

i look down, observing my sheet where in some places it is stained with blood and others with cum. saying nothing, remaining silent and heartbroken. all my attempts to make him happy and loved always went up in smoke. my treatments have never been of any use, as well as my love for him.

he smiles at me again and kisses my forehead, while my tears roll down my cheeks and my butt hurts so badly that i can't even stay still anymore. “it's always your fault. you are the reason for all the bad things that happen to you” he strokes my hair gently and still gives him that loving look. my biggest mistake was to give him another chance. “i only wanted the best for you, but you always ruined everything...” he says to me, with such a calm and loving tone in his voice. he kisses my forehead softly, stroking my hair. trying to manipulate me further, trying to make me believe that it's only my fault. “i'm... i'm so sorry”

i answer him with a trembling and extremely sad voice, continuing to look at my sheets, which until a few hours ago were clean and fragrant. i just want him to hold me in his arms, kissing my head, caressing me with love. telling me that everything is fine and that he apologizes for his mean words and for breaking my heart. but i know that will never happen and that i will always have to apologize.

“oh, my lovely sweetheart...” he strokes my hair again and then caresses my face gently, while he looks into my eyes. “i'm so sorry, that i said the things i just said to you. i shouldn't have. you are the sweetest, most caring and loving person i have ever met. i don't deserve someone like you...” he tries to manipulate me once again. and it works perfectly. “please forgive me, my sweet angel” i move closer to his warm body, resting my cheek on his shoulder. wrapping my arms around his waist, sobbing over and over again. knowing deep in my heart, everything he's telling me, he doesn't mean it.

now i'm back where i always end up when i'm with him. i'm broken and i cry and he comforts me. he gives me the love and affection i so desperately need right now, but which he will take away from me again within a few days or a few hours. “shhh, everything will be fine, y/n” he kisses my forehead and strokes my hair gently, while i cry in his arms.

small sobs leave my lips, as tears roll down my cheeks and lightly wet his shoulder. you hold him tighter to my body, seeking that warmth of love that i desperately need. in need of his love, which i will soon no longer receive, because it is a matter of moment. for those few minutes or hours, i can feel loved again. he gives me that affection and that warmth that i crave so much. i'm in each others arms again and nothing could make me happier right now. “how much i love you...” he whispers softly, while i hold onto him even tighter. i know that this feeling i have right now won't last long, but i don't care about that right now. all that matters right now is that i feel happy, loved and appreciated again. i miss him so much and this is the proof that i still love him.

i bring my lips close to his neck, kissing him softly and with love. “i love you so much, my little moon” i speak to him softly, sobbing from time to time, tears still streaming down my face, crying in his arms. “please stop crying, my baby. i don't like seeing you so sad. you don't deserve to be sad...” he looks at me with the sweetest expression imaginable. he strokes my hair again and kisses my cheek, while he tries to convince me that he loves you once again.

“i'm so sorry for my earlier mean comments...” he says to me, smiling in a loving way, while i still cry in his arms...

hii 💌 how are you? these days i'm more at work, than at home or with my friends. in my old profile 'i love you so' there was a mini-fic, so i think i'll publish the other parts here too ☺️ next week i will publish more headcanons, especially on georg listing and gustav schäfer, because they deserve a lot of love too. i apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors, but english is not my native language. xoxo flo.

[ateezscupid]

If u cam do issa Weired request ... blurb

Hongjoong leaving his gf, yet haven't moved on.

Now he is a successful producer whilst he found out that ex is now struggling with depression!!

﹟𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ⋆ 𝗄.𝗁𝗃 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 / 𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧

plot - you and hongjoong brokeup a while back so he could focus on his career. the both of you didn’t know how badly that breakup would affect you.

warn - slight angst and some fluff, idol!au, mentions of depression, mention of s/h and s/i (more like implications), happy ending, kind of based in present time (guerrilla era)

w/c - n/a

𝗧𝗔𝗚S - @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan

“who’s that girl?” you mumble to yourself as you stare at the picture hongjoong posted recently. it was a picture of him and another girl holding hands and looking in love. you narrowed your eyes and threw your phone across the room, falling back onto your bed and sighing.

it’s been years since you and hongjoong broke up. you two were young, and had your whole lives ahead of you! of course, that meant you two had to part ways. it was impossible to do a long distance relationship if you planned on going all the way across the globe for college. hongjoong wanted to stay in his home town to work on his music and focus on his group, ateez.

when you heard the words “we need to take a break,” leave his lips, the only thing you could think of were the things you did for him. you were always there for fan signing events, concerts, promotion events, etc etc. you were their biggest supporter and ateez thank you for it. you were there even before they debuted.

it was after ‘say my name’ was released, he decided to end things. it took everything in you not to cry, but you couldn’t help the torrent of tears flooding down your cheeks like niagara falls.

you were able to handle the breakup for the next few days until you saw that one interview. you could’ve sworn hongjoong felt your eyes burning holes into his head. the interviewer asked ateez what their ideal type was, and if they were looking for relationships. you cringed on the inside from the question, but listened intensely when hongjoong was asked.

“i don’t mind what my future girlfriend looks like, it doesn’t matter to me. but, as of now, i’m still looking for my perfect lady.”

he was still looking. those words were now engraved in your memory. that wasn’t like hongjoong. he wouldn’t just ignore everything you two had because ateez was gaining popularity, but judging from his expression, he was dead serious.

you clawed are your chest. if it were even possible, you felt your heart drop inside of you. the tears that fell from the day he brokeup with you started up again. nothing could’ve prepared you for what he said. nothing. you thought you two had something but clearly you were wrong. were you not perfect to him? did he not find you pretty? did you mess up? did he lie about his reason of breaking up? everything ran through your mind all at once.

his one answer sent you into a spiral. you spent hours everyday checking to see if hongjoong’s ideal type changed so you could make yourself look like the person he described, but you got nothing. you spent hours looking at tips tom how to become prettier, how to keep a long relationship.

all of the internet you consumed in those days sent you into a deep depression, one you thought you couldn’t get out of. you kept in contact with the ateez members, but hongjoong was the only one who didn’t talk to you. mingi said he was busy in the studio whenever you asked to speak to him, and you couldn’t help but breakdown when you heard those words. excuse after excuse. he really got over you that quick..?

everything hit you like a truck so fast. hongjoong broke up with you and refused to speak to you, and the friendship you thought you had with ateez disappeared when their schedules became booked and they didn’t have the time to talk to you. they used to respond to your messages hours later, then it turned into no responses at all. you weren’t close with anybody else as much as you were with ateez, you felt alone. nobody was there to talk to, and you definitely didn’t want to tell your parents. chances are they’d say you were overreacting.

your depression worsened when you saw hongjoong having fun with other idols who were girls. he seemed so comfortable around them, as for you, he’d refuse to talk to you. you felt like a burden. you weren’t important. you were useless.

harming yourself felt like your last option since the job you were working at didn’t help you afford getting actual help, so you felt it was your best bet. though it wasn’t. your job, being ignorant, said you needed to “take a break” since your scars were scaring customers. you didn’t bother arguing back and just took the punishment.

and here you were now, scrolling through his personal instagram account and seeing him post about this one girl frequently. he had found someone new. he forgot about you. you weren’t important to him. in fact, tou weren’t important to anybody. there were a few times where you’ve thought of leaving the face of the earth and never coming back, but what about your family? they were still assholes but they cared about you? how would it affect ateez’s mental health? you didn’t want to make them feel what you felt.

not paying attention to what you were doing, you liked one of his posts. it wouldn’t have been a problem if you were on your secret account, but it was your main. it was the entire reason you threw your phone, and you were so scared to pick it up thinking he’d see it. but the post had 100k likes? how would he see yours?-

ding!

well, you were proven wrong. carefully you crawl off your bed and snatch your phone up, staring at your screen blankly when you saw a message from him. his account. the account that was verified. it couldn’t have been true, you had to have been dreaming.

hj: is this who i think it is?

yn: yes?

hj: oh, hey y/n :) how’ve you been?

yn: i’ve been okay.

hj: that’s good

hj: soo what have you been doing since the last time we spoke to each other?

yn: nothing

hj: really? nothing? i thought you wanted to focus on dancing or something like that.

yn: i didn’t get into the college i applied for

hj: oh i’m sorry to hear that. have you been doing anything else?

yn: no

hj: oh ok

hj: is it awkward speaking to me again? i’m sorry if i made things weird or i made it seem like i forgot about you. i haven’t forgotten about you.

yn: its not awkward, i’m just embarrassed

hj: embarrassed?

yn: people knew we were dating before and after your group debuted, but you went on national television and told everybody that you were still looking for your soulmate or whatever? that was embarrassing.

hj: we talked about the questions they’d ask us if we were on the show? i thought you knew i wasn’t being serious?

yn: i would’ve thought that, but i didn’t. even after that you refused to talk to me, no matter how many times i tried talking to you. mingi told me you were always busy. i thought you had forgotten about me.

hj: i didn’t forget about you? but i’m sorry if i made it seem that way… i was always busy though?

yn: you could’ve told me that yourself, hongjoong.

hj: i realize that now

yn: i know you don’t know how much you hurt me, but it hurt me a lot. not only you, but everyone else. i hate being alone. i didn’t have anyone to talk to.

hj: i’m sorry. are you still in the states? we’re here to promote some music but i have a bit of time, i can visit you? what’s your address

yn: [___] my roommates aren’t home, so we can talk alone

hj: cool. be there in thirty.

and he kept his word. he arrived at your apartment in 30 minutes, maybe even under thirty. you thought he’d come empty handed since the plan was to talk about your feelings and settle the rocky relationship, but he came with flowers and chocolate. it was pretty cliché but you didn’t care. at least he cared about you enough to get you something.

"hey," the smile on his face let you know he was happy to see you for the first time in what felt like forever. he's been missing you like crazy since the breakup but didn't have the guts to reach out to you.

"hi." on the other hand, you were still mad at him and didn't want to make it seem like you've been stalking him since you two parted ways, which you have.

"can i come in?" his eyebrow raises and you nod, moving out the way of the doorway and allowing him to walk inside. you handed him a vase to put the flowers in as you walked over to the couch. he closed the door behind him then moved to a nearby counter, taking the flowers out of the plastic and throwing them into the trashcan.

“so… i haven’t kept up with what you guys have been doing.” which was a lie. you always spent your free time going through the official instagram as well as the members to see what they were doing. “what songs did you guys release?”

“we just released guerrilla, that’s why we’re in the states.” when he was done with the base, he walked over to where you were and sat on the couch. he wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with him being close or not so he kept his distance.

“oh, that’s cool.” you nod slowly. “have you been seeing anyone since we… parted ways?—”

“nope.” joong answered quickly. “you may not believe me, but i never got over you. i’ve missed you like hell, it felt like i had a hole in my heart. y’know? everything i did felt weird because you weren’t with me. when i didn’t see you at our concerts and at promotions, it felt wrong.”

“…it did?” you started feeling guilty now. “i didn’t know you felt like that.”

“it’s not your fault! okay? it’s not your fault, it’s mine.” he sighed. “i kept reading over your texts while i was driving and i felt bad. really bad. i feel bad knowing i was the reason you went through all of that. i didn’t want to point it out when i first walked in but i noticed your…”

you furrow your eyebrows and looked down. you hadn’t worn a long sleeved shirt like you planned on, which meant your arms were fully exposed to him. some of your scars were healing pretty good, but there were still many that weren’t healing as fast as the others. they were more visible. you didn’t know what to say to him. hongjoong scoots closer and pulled you into a hug without saying a word. before you knew it, tears were streaming down your cheeks again.

“shh, it’s okay, i’m here.” he held your face against his chest, patting you on the head and holding you tightly. you weren’t aware of how badly you needed a hug until now; the same arms that held you years ago were holding you now and it made you feel so much better.

“j-joong,” you sniffled. “are you mad at me…?”

“what? no, no i could never be mad at you.” he sighed, feeling the urge to cry as well. “im just glad you’re still here. im glad we’re together right now.”

“i… am too,” you smile weakly and wrap your arms around his body. “can you stay the night?”

“sure, i think i can. i think this is the one week where we don’t really have anything to do as a group. i can ask to spend the entire week with you, would you like that?”

“yes please, do that. i wanna spend as much time as i can with you before you go back.”

hongjoong chuckles and pushed your hair behind your ear, staring into the eyes he fell in love with all those years ago. “do you want to try again?”

you were waiting for that question since the moment he walked inside. “i do, joong.”

[that-ari-blogger]

Nothing To See Here (Knock, Knock, Knockin' On Hooty's Door)

Every story has that one character. The Tom Bombadil, if you will, the one who is mostly irrelevant to the plot and functions as a kind of in joke. In The Owl House, this is Hooty, and yes, I am aware of how many people I annoyed by linking such a seminal work of fiction with a The Lord of the Rings. (Go on, disagree, boost my numbers, I dare you)

Some series even devote an entire episode to this joke character and their antics. This usually involves clowning around and comedy to balance out the heavy feels of the rest of the series, and rarely furthers the plot in any way.

Knock, Knock, Knockin’ On Hooty’s Door is this episode. It’s a fun romp with the cast of The Owl House, and nothing important happens.

Nope. Nothing at all. No sir. That would be crazy.

Who am I kidding? This episode is the linchpin of the series and will be studied for years to come.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (The Owl House, Legends Of Runeterra, One Piece: Whole Cake Island)

The Owl House should have pacing issues, and “should” is the operative word there, because it doesn’t, really.

The series is trying to balance out themes of family, acceptance, identity, and freedom. As well as a ton of key arcs. Eda, King, and Luz, each have two, if you squint, as well as the overarching conflict with Belos.

Eda has her struggles with the Owl Beast curse and her need to protect; King has his seeking of identity and the search for his father; and Luz is juggling her romance with Amity with a quest for the way home.

Including Belos, that’s seven arcs that The Owl House is trying to explore. Add in Hunter’s whole thing and we round up to eight, a nice even number.

This is an extraordinary number of plot threads for a season of television to handle, and get the feeling that most of these were planned for the hypothetical season three.

But people who treat art as a product that can be manufactured and sold made decisions, and for some reason, those people sit in high positions in institutions that make art, so The Owl House’s third season got canned.

So… why isn’t season two crippled by pacing that tries to bite off more than it can chew?

This shot is a joke. It is a fraction of a second's long bit that doesn't come up again. They didn't need to put this much effort into it, but they did. There's even a Dutch angle to emphasise King's shock.

Well, because Knock, Knock, Knockin’ On Hooty’s Door discusses six of these arcs. If you’re keeping track, that’s most of the series getting developed in a single episode.

I’m not going to pretend that this episode is perfect. Personally, I read it as ambitious and barely managing to hold itself together. The fact that this episode works at all is astonishing, so I’ll let it go on the minour details.

But I can’t deny that this episode walks so that everything after can fly. The show doesn’t feel constrained because this episode takes all of the burden.

Starting with the fact that this episode joins its themes rather well. Luz can’t work out the thing with the mouse because her mind is set on Amity, Eda is held back in her magical abilities because the curse, and King… well, I’ll get back to King.

The episode streamlines the entire series into manageable chunks, offering one arc as a pseudo reward for completing another. For example, Luz getting together with Amity allows her to speak with the mouse.

Before I discuss the nitty gritty of the plot, I do want to clarify something here. I’ve seen a ton of people say that Hooty is the perfect wingman and point to this episode. And, no. No, he’s really not. In my opinion, that’s kinda the point.

This is something that I like to call the Cyberpunk Dilema, in which the rule of cool affects the audience perception. Audiences will look at something that is entertaining to watch or funny and say, “I’d like to do that”, and miss out on the fact that it doesn’t go well.

Case and point, Hooty screws up being a wingman so badly that he pushes people into character development by accident. Hooty isn’t good at this, he’s just endearing.

Anyway, even with the condensation of the plot, this episode has three storylines, so talking in overarching terms can only get you so far. So, allow me to get into those.

A screencap can't really do the dream transition justice. The music is eerie and unnatural and, at least to me, evokes the memory sequences from the Galbraith books, or rather, the film versions of them.

Eda gets a dream sequence, and as is the usual for such things, it gets weird. The audience sees the curse ruining Eda’s life repeatedly. We see her greatest shames, the attack against her father, and the inability to talk to Raine.

I think it’s interesting that these two actions contrast each other. Eda’s father could have known better than to set off a party popper that close to a daughter he was aware would have such an effect. That was a predictable occurrence, and I blame him almost entirely for it.

The think with Raine, however, is mostly Eda’s fault, and she says so in the moment.

“Just tell them, let them help.”

I also want to throw some shade at Gwendolyn and Lilith here, as well as the Boiling Isles as a whole, because Eda has absolutely zero healthy coping mechanisms. I’m not talking about the curse here; I’m talking about in the entirety of her life. She never learned how to deal with anything except by running. Or rather, she didn’t, until Luz rocked up.

Eda needed someone to help her and inspire her to be better, as well as being willing to hold her up when she is feeling low. Her mother didn’t offer her that, her sister caused the problems, and Raine tried, but got pushed away.

I think these two moments in Eda’s memory guide her every move. Both as things she wants desperately to never do again. She tries to control the curse because it hurt her father, and she takes in Luz and lets her get close because she’s determined to never push anyone away again.

We’ll see how well those two resolutions go over the course of the series, but for now, she’s getting better.

Do we not wanna talk about this? Eda meets the collector before everyone else, and doesn't even ask them about the Owl Beast. This could have been such a cool episode later on down the line.

The we get this scene, which was blatantly set up for a much longer season three, but ho hum. This sequence talks about the history of the owl beast, and has some brilliant Icarus imagery, serving to humanise the creature.

Icarus famously drowned. More accurately, he aggressively discovered surface tension. But for those who don’t know, Icarus was the son of the inventor Daedalus, who made wings for them both to escape a tower. Icarus flew too close to the sun, and his wings melted, causing him to fall.

As such, the owl beast has themes of freedom, as well as the limits of oneself. Notice how those are both things that Eda deals with on a regular basis.

But yes, the obvious, Eda is accepting her otherness and deciding to stop fighting it and work around it. It is a part of who she is, and its not something worth destroying herself to “fix”.

You could read this as a queer metaphor, or a discussion of disability or neurodivergence. I don’t have a disability, so I can’t really comment on that, but I recommend checking out the opinions and readings of those who do and who have thoughts. @oakwyrm has several videos on the subject that I personally found rather enlightening.

I do want to talk about the aurora imagery here, because on one hand, its an excuse for the animators to make something genuinely beautiful, but on the other, this is a blog about analysis, and I want to dissect as much as I can.

The world fades out, rupturing as it fulfils its purpose, leaving Eda curled around the now much smaller curse, protecting it like a mother protecting a child.

The aurora itself symbolises hope and renewal, derived from the Greek word for sunrise and the deity who was the sister of the sun, according to space.com. But it’s also the colour from the greyscale beach returning.

Which leads me to Harpy Eda, and holy moly is that a character design.

Harpies are weirdly dynamic mythological creatures, varying in appearance and thematic and powers across ancient Greece and a few close neighbours. This is usually what happens when a myth has either had time to drift, meaning it’s a holdover from a much older civilisation and mythology, or one on a trade rout. Harpies have a habit of pestering sailors, so I’ll let you guess which answer I think is more accurate.

I want to stress that I am talking about usual situations, it is possible that these Harpy myths sprung up due to a common stimulus, like birds that could mimic speech or something similar.

Ovid was also involved in evolution of the myth, and he was known for making stuff up as he went along, so there’s that.

In any case, Harpy Eda is a form that allows Eda control over her life, it gives her agency, and the wings that are a universal symbol of freedom. This is a person who can now go anywhere she wants. Combine that with the owl’s wisdom affiliations, and you get a symbol of power and a statement piece. Eda, when she has fully accepted herself, can do anything.

King is looking for the missing piece of himself, so he stands in front of an incomplete hole. I'm definitely clutching at straws with this one, but

King meanwhile is going through a bildungsroman at a truly unsafe pace. For context, a bildungsroman is a coming of age story (technically, it’s a book, but I think that’s dumb), and part of that is working out who you are. Growing up means being given the freedom to choose, but none of the experience to make that choice educated. It’s telling you to pick two options, but not explaining what they are.

"I thought you had real answers."

No buddy. No-one has real answers like that, because they don't exist. I'm religious, and I don't have a clue either. Everyone else is making it up as they go along, buddy, same as you.

Also, Alex Hirsch needs a raise for the delivery of everything in this episode, especially this line.

Then there is the stock advice that always annoyed me. “Be who you are.” It’s helpful at face value, but it doesn’t mean anything when you think about it. If you don’t know who you are or who you want to be, being yourself is really difficult.

“I don’t need you to tell me to love myself, Hooty. I want to know where I came from. What my dad looked like. What I’ll look like when I grow up. I don’t have any responses to my video yet, or my wanted posters. Maybe my dad is gone. Maybe there’s no one else like me. And maybe I’ll live my whole life without any answers.” “No! I didn’t want top make you mad.” “Well I am mad. At him, for not being here. He left me ALONE!”

Do I really need to explain this? King is forced by Hooty’s ineptitude and his own bottled-up emotions to actually say what he thinks and what he wants. He’s a comedy character who has dropped the joke and needs to release that energy that he has built up.

Enter the roar, a power gained by reaching an understanding of oneself. Hooty and King were trying to ascertain what King was by focusing on the superficial. What type of creature is he? What can he be categorised as?

Hooty’s stock responses are designed to be aggravating, because they don’t work on an individual level. What King needed to work out was that he wanted to understand himself as a person rather than a thing. Who is King?

For the moment, that answer is “complicated”, in a way that he isn’t quite ready to be yet.

If you pause at this specific frame, the background resembles the bisexual pride flag. I'm telling you there are queer undercurrents in this series. It's not obvious, but it's there. I'm not crazy.

Finally, let’s address Lumity, and I’m going to begin that by not talking about Lumity at all and instead the concept of shipping as a whole and what makes a good ship to me.

I think it is important to understand that fiction and reality are two different things, and so ships and actual relationships need to be judged on different terms.

A ship, first and foremost, needs to be compelling, and interesting to watch. A real relationship needs to be healthy. This is why I think that the Stolas x Blitz storyline in Helluva Boss is a good ship but would be genuinely awful if these were real people.

Yes, there is a discussion to be had about what is presented as good and bad in fiction, but I trust you to have enough media literacy to differentiate the fantastical from the grounded.

So, what then makes a good ship?

Well, to me, a good ship is compelling and inspires stories on its own. A good ship isn’t merely a reward for completing the plot, or an “x and y have a cute dynamic” or even an “x and y both have ice powers”.

Once again, I am talking about my opinions here. If you like to ship characters because they have the same colour palate or something, that’s great, go for it. There are no rules, don't let people tell you how to enjoy a story. This is simply what I like to read and write about.

This is the basis of some of my favourite ships in fiction, Leona and Diana from Legends of Runeterra, Zoro and Sanji from One Piece, and Luz and Amity from The Owl House.

Leona and Diana are the two aspects of the sun and moon and have an on-off romantic relationship. This is strained by religious zealotry and indoctrination, which gives it that tragic air. But this ship also lends weight to their conflict and could have the power to sway Leona into doing the right thing.

Zosan is more complicated and needs some explaining. It’s a fan ship and it relates to the two secondhand men of the Strawhat crew. Sanji is brash and emotional; Zoro is calm and stoic. Sanji is a nerd; Zoro is an idiot. Sanji is well put together; Zoro is a mess.

The story comes from what they do for each other, because Zoro is, in a weird way, Sanji but better. I don’t mean this in a character standpoint, I mean this from the perspective of stability. Zoro is protective without being suicidal. He is affected by loss, but he’s motivated by it rather than being scared. He is calm, he can survive. Zoro is the rock that Sanji can use to secure himself.

Sanji has been traumatised to hell and back, and he needs a way of letting his emotions out in a healthy way. He needs to shout and scream and cry, and Zoro, by being that rock who can take anything Sanji does, becomes the constant.

The above image is part of a comic by @dog-politics, and it shows my point. Sanji holding onto Zoro with tears running down his face while Zoro holds him.

I also want to point out that in this comic, Sanji is crying because Zoro is offering him affection, and he doesn’t know whether he likes it or not. He’s not used to receiving any affection at all.

But, what does Zoro see in Sanji? I give you @tea917339 and this post right here.

Zoro sees a type of hope in Sanji that he only saw one other place. Sanji reminds Zoro of Kuina, the one who inspired his own journey, and it tells him that it wasn’t the person who drives him, but her spirit, and he can see it even more so here.

Sanji’s spirit should be broken a million times over, and that’s how he presents, as a buffoon for whom romance is the only thing left in his life. But this comic shows Zoro that there is more going on beneath the surface, and that Sanji’s force of will is eternal.

Caitlin Seida’s poem, Hope Is Not a Bird, Emily, It’s A Sewer Rat, describes optimism, joy, and perseverance as diseases that hope can give you. The poem doesn’t do witty wordplay or fancy forms, it’s blunt and raw, and it should be the calling card of the Zosan ship.

Lumity follows this formula, at least to me. Amity and Luz compliment each other and the ship makes the series more interesting by provoking stories. Most notably, the story of Amity being inspired by Luz to be a better person and to come into conflict with her family.

Luz shines a way for people, and she guides Amity towards happiness. Shenaniganry ensues then as Amity tries to work out what she values more, and what she is willing to sacrifice to keep the affection.

However, Luz’ angle of this has been relatively ambiguous, until now. Remember what I said about this episode streamlining things? Well, it also does that with Luz.

Luz main flaw is in direct conflict with her greatest strength. She is original and unique, and defies definition. But she also wants the world around her to fit her expected storyline. She’s a perfectionist of plot.

This is also Belos’ main flaw as well, you may notice. He wants the world to fit his expectations. But Belos can only understand life through the lens of conformity. Either he will change to fit it, or the world must change to fit him. Luz starts with a similar mindset, but spends the series learning to accept the world and herself the way they are and let them exist peacefully.

From that angle, the story proposes its definition of good and evil as relative to how much a character is willing to learn and accept, which is a neat benchmark.

The story overall has been teaching Luz to accept the world , but Amity teaches her to accept herself.

The date goes poorly. I cannot stress this enough, you don’t want Hooty as your wingman. But it also goes badly because Luz wants it to be perfect, she wants top try and compensate for her perceived flaws and hide things about herself that she deems unworthy.

Amity, however, has fallen for Luz in her entirety, good and bad. That kind of affection is what drives Luz to see herself in a new light, and it’s a core tenet of the story’s themes.

So, the fact that the actual asking out on a date is so awkward is the point. It’s not perfect, because neither of these characters are perfect, and that’s more than ok.

The animation builds up to the question really well, keeping the tension high and then undercutting it for the sake of humour and catharsis. Because was Amity really going to say no?

You’ve got so deep in Luz’s muddled thoughts that you miss what she is thinking about. Obviously, Amity would say yes, anyone could see that.

If you want a clear metaphor for this, the floor shifts as Hooty carves a hole in it, and Luz and Amity find themselves on rocky ground. They don’t understand where they stand in relation to each other, but then the camera pans out and they were standing in a heart the entire time. These two were dropped into a relationship. They tumbled into affection. They fell in love.

Before I finish up, I want to do something weird and discus the title of the episode. Because this episode, Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door, is a play on Bob Dylan’s 1973 song, Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door, coverd by Guns and Roses in 1991.

Mama, take this badge from me I can't use it anymore It's gettin' dark, too dark to see Feels like I'm knockin' on heaven's door

The song is about redemption and looking back at ones’ life to decide where to go now. It’s a sad song, and a weird fit in tone for the series, but it is a really good turning point for the story and its ideas.

From here on out The Owl House doesn’t slow down and doesn’t pull any punches. This show has finally worked out who it wants to be, and so the reference to the song says there is no turning back now. The fun hijinks are still here, but now we get serious.

The episode closes arcs and sends the plot in a new direction as characters decide what to do. It is a turning point in the series.

The title also implies that Hooty and by extension the Owl House itself are heavenly in some form or another, which squares strangely well with Lilith’s letter at the start.

“Hello, Hootsifer. Your letter concerned me. You write of feeling unimportant while Luz, Eda, and King are off on adventures. But Hooty, you are the Owl House. You take care of everyone inside you. If that isn’t a worthy purpose, then what is?”

The Owl House is a place of sanctuary. Where people can go to be themselves. It is a place of freedom. It is the promised land.

The Owl House those who look upon it, and so does the series that takes its name.

This guy looks important, I wonder if he'll come up again.

Final Thoughts

Like I said, boring. Nothing happens in this episode, nothing at all.

In all honesty, this episode is seriously impressive. It’s bloated, yes. It has a pacing issue, yes. Some of the jokes don’t land, yes. But oh my G-d, this episode carries the show, and that’s not even a hot take.

King’s Tide, Hollow Mind, and Watching And Dreaming don’t stand on the shoulders of giants, they stand on the non-existent shoulders of Hooty.

Next week, I’ll be looking at Eclipse Lake, which has Hunter in it, and I swear, if anything happens to my precious boi, there will be hell to pay.

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