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m1d-45 · 9 months ago

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renewed

summary: many things have changed in aether's life since he met you...

word count: 2.7k

-> warnings: n/a

-> gn reader (you/yours) + aether as traveller!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

aether isn’t quite human. at least not entirely, not anymore.

it could be argued that even prior to coming to teyvat, he and his sister weren’t entirely human. they were nearly always stronger than the native life wherever they traveled, never lingering long enough for an accurate portrait to be drawn. between their glittering wings and the razor sharp swords at their hips, it could be easily argued that from the perspective of the people they visited they could be called angels.

a few wrote legends about them. the gilded warriors with shimmering swords that blinded as they slashed, so in step with each other that it was as if they were one being. the saviors, the adventurers, the peaceful giants, twin faces atop four wings apiece. lumine always managed to sneak away a copy of these legends, and they privately laughed over the artwork at their camp that night.

“we don’t look that intimidating, do we?”

“i’m fairly certain-… hang on, is that a tail?”

“that’s supposed to my hair, i think.”

“no no, look. it connects lower, here.”

“…by the stars-”

they didn’t see themselves that way, though. they were simply twins, defined by the other in every sense. never apart for long, always stood side by side, trading swords before a dangerous fight as a promise to return them.

‘draw me with courage.’

‘wield me with valor.’

lumine and aether and aether and lumine. they never fussed about the order, so long as they were together. call them whatever you’d like, insults or praise or a simple, tired request to leave, as long as it was both of them. they were all they had left. the other half of their life. to try and pry apart the seam would only result in bleeding hearts, limbs tangling together to at least die by the other’s side. even ‘twin’ was too simple a word to fit the entirety of their lives into. ‘twin’ implied a degree of separation, an impossible gap between them where wind would blow and the world would dig into, pushing them away like waves in a boat’s wake. ‘twin’ was too shallow a word, to bitter, too small to encompass everything they felt.

such fervent devotion could never be considered ‘human,’ for no human would ever live long enough to know the fear that came with knowing everything that swelled would eventually fall. no human would clutch so desperately to the twin pillars in their life—would ever consider basing their world upon two things. they’d call it foolish, even, for what would you do if one collapsed?

aether never liked that question. he didn’t like it when he and lumine first heard it, he didn’t like it when he and lumine heard it a second time, he didn’t like it anytime he and lumine heard it after that. he didn’t like it now, her sword slipping from his hands as he reached, his fingers barely brushing hers.

the unknown god laughed, and he barely had time to feel rage before the world closed in on him and his memory faded away.

aether and lumine. lumine and aether. she was always insistent upon his safety, but just this once he wished she wasn’t. living in whatever stasis she was in within that cube would certainly hurt less than this, bile rising in his throat at his failure.

somewhere in his mind, he knew that it logically wasn’t his fault. he remembered the layer of warmth that had surrounded him mid-battle, saw the reflection of understanding in lumine’s eyes. it wasn’t technically his fault, he didn’t ask to be saved, ignoring that it was his own actions that led to his god’s blessing. perhaps if he wasn’t so strict about the time of his prayer he wouldn’t have to be alone on this beach, though there was no way to find out. the sand stretched on either side, and though it wasn’t infinite, he had not left the immediate area around where he’d first woken up. to move was to move on, to leave, to accept that his world had shattered into a thousand little fragments and to give up on picking them off the floor. he couldn’t leave. to leave was to surrender to this new fate. to leave was to forget about his sister, to forget about his self, to forget about the half of his life he never imagined he could lose.

family and faith. to lose his gods favor was a threat he could live with, as there would only be himself to blame. but his sister?

if he hadn’t fished up paimon, he’s not certain he would have eaten the fish that came up instead.

she was bright, bubbly, at least after coughing up an impossible amount of seawater. she thanked him profusely while wringing out her hair, insisting on helping him in return because “it’s only fair!” as if he wasn’t three times her weight (save her magic) and and ten times as strong.

and he let her. he’s not sure why, but he did. he watched her fumble to catch crabs, ending up covered in sand, and managed a weak smile. it was for her, he told himself, spearing three with a sword that wasn’t his, helping her arrange driftwood into a measly campfire. he hardly felt hungry despite being on the beach for what had to be a few months in local time, but she was so insistent that he have some.. it was for her benefit. he just had to get her somewhere safe, then… then…

“so, where are you from?”

aether looked up from his barely-touched meal, meeting her eyes. they were so wide and earnest, too trusting for someone that just met him.

not that he had any ill intentions. no, lumine would always joke that the day he was willingly rude to another would be the day the sky turned red—something that had been the case on one of the planets they’d visited, much to her delight.

aether turned back to the fire, pushing aside the memory. “another planet.” his voice was hoarse and his throat scratched with salt from attempting to drink the seawater earlier, which was not as potable as he’d hoped. “i flew here with my sister.”

“you have a sister?” paimon looked around, though they both knew she wouldn’t find anything. “where is she?”

aether swallowed salt and bile, taking another bite of his crab just to stall. “how about we talk in the morning?”

she let the topic drop.

he didn’t sleep that night, lending her his scarf as a pillow and keeping watch. she didn’t wake when the moon erased the shadows in the sand, or when the sun first crested the sea, or when the sky fully lightened to a pale blue, birdsong filling the air. one of the remnants from the fire found its way into his hand, reaching out to gently shake her awake. her eyes were heavy and she covered her mouth as she yawned, aether looking away before his own could water.

he drew nothing in the sand as she asked her questions—who are you, where’d you come from, who are you missing, what happened to her, why didn’t you do anything?—sketching out mountains and seas he wiped away as soon as they took form. he spoke for much longer than he meant to, his words pulled out as if they were tied to some invisible string.

when was the last time he was alone for this long?

paimon listened intently, brows drawn and frowning deeply, watching as he carved twin—twin, separated by time and space—stars into the sand. “so… what you’re trying to say is that you fell here… from another world? but when you wanted to leave, to go on to the next world, your path was blocked by some unknown god?”

wow, he wanted to snark, i didn’t know there was an echo out here! but the chance never came. magic gripped him by the throat and his eyes went wide in panic, his mouth shaping words he didn’t choose to say by force. he didn’t want to say what someone else told him to. he didn’t know what was going on. he was being pulled at some ghost’s whims, walking stiffly across the sand. it did not skid from beneath his feet, nor pull his balance one way or another. it was solid as stone, leading him up the beach without warning, without knowledge of why or when it would stop.

when was the last time he was this helpless?

(lumine.)

he stumbled across the shore on uncoordinated limbs, fighting fruitlessly. ahead, slime bubbled up from where the sand met the sea, but the ghost did not stop. mist coagulated into a pale blue blob with hazy spots for eyes, and only then was he allowed to stop. paimon yelped and ducked behind him, a familiar weight sinking into his hand. the slime had barely the chance to turn and see him, jerking up as if surprised, when his arm slashed forward.

a sword. not his sword, not lumine’s sword, but a sword, pulled from nowhere, the dull blade hacking at the blob of its own will until the sludge dispersed and sunk back into the sand. a soft mist lingered above the sand, but he was pulled forward without care or remorse. he didn’t even know if it would have hurt him.

weight hit him between the shoulders, cold spreading over his skin and absorbing into his skin. energy buzzed beside his ear, his earring humming with neither outlet nor conduit. were he anyone else, he would have been afraid, but he recognized the buzz. all at once, he understood. all at once, the weak puppetry was vindicated, his muscles relaxing and letting it happen. your energy sank into him, and he let himself stop worrying.

if you were here, he’d be okay. if you were here, you could fix this.

if you were here, he could find his sister, and everything would be okay again.

aether was not human. not entirely, not anymore, and he knew the people of mondstat could tell. you had stayed to guide his body for a week, alternating between helping the knights with dvalin and exploring the plains of mondstat. he was weak and your grip was frail, his attacks uncoordinated and clumsy, but you were there. you understood. the cavalry captain gave him a long stare as they exited his domain, a mix of curiosity and disbelief swirling in his one eye.

when you finally left, you did so in the middle of mondstat square. a physical weight lifted from his shoulders, the anemo he’d absorbed turning from calm and controlled to pushing at the edges of his form, trying to make him give. the anemo archon approached, soothing the wind with a wave of his hand, pulling him along for a drink and a chat. his knees did not want to bend without your command, his mind fraying a bit from continued exposure.

“how interesting, that you’re still standing after a week without rest,” the bartender remarked, the glass in his hands obviously an excuse to keep them above the bar. “what’s your name, outlander?”

he did not think of his own name. no, when he went to answer, he thought of the name you had given him, the one you whispered as you sheltered him from the unknown god’s wrath. it was not his, but it was yours, and wasn’t that what he was asking for?

it took too long for him to answer. red eyes narrowed but eventually chalked it up to exhaustion, giving him directions he couldn’t hear. the captain led him to a room in the back, but he didn’t sleep that night, sitting at the window and searching for the thin sliver of stars.

he didn’t need to eat anymore. he could, certainly, and it tasted fine enough, but he didn’t exactly need to. he’d thought it odd, at first, that barbatos was healed strictly by the wind, but he understood now. he spent his free time sitting under vanessa’s tree, half-asleep as he waited for your return.

you were his source of energy, of will. you knew answers to problems he’d have given up on, and if you didn’t then you tried and tried and tried again until you got it right. you were the power that purified dvalin’s tears, you swept the wind to fix the holy lyre, you cleared the seals around decarabian’s tower. he was a medium, and he was happy with that. your presence waxed and waned, the lapses without you seeming to pass by in a blink.

a few of the knights worried for him, but he knew your vessels understood. none held as much of your power as him, none were as reliant on you, but they understood. they excused his oddities with a kind smile, paimon always at his side to make sure he didn’t waste away the day simply sitting in one spot. prior to coming to teyvat, the concept of elemental sight was something he was only vaguely familiar with. a few planets had some talented witches that could feel the flow of energy through the ground and grass, who could watch the mist in the air and predict the weather. he’d never experienced it himself before. now, the world lit up as his eyes took on a teal sheen, your power mixing with the anemo within him to grant him insight. the world was so vibrant, even the most mundane sights capturing his attention. how could he not stare? if he had it his way he’d always view your creations like this.. but whenever paimon snapped him out of it he’d come out of it with a headache, not to mention his staring tended to be off-putting to those around.

a lot of his new behaviors were. when within your control, he moved stiffly, with repetitive motions forecast well in advance. you chose what he said, when and how he moved, you controlled the very flow of elements through his body. it was harder and harder to think for himself without you there and though paimon handled most of the conversation, there was only so much she could say.

“who are you looking for?” lumine. his sister. himself. the knowledge was there but his throat was closed, unwilling to move without your order.

“thank you for your help.” you’re welcome. don’t worry about it. it was nothing. all he could manage was a stiff nod, eyes flicking to the sky, counting the days until your return. he’d gotten a good grasp of your routine by now.

“who are you?” yours. a traveller. lumine’s. he could not blame those they ran across for their suspicion, even though he wanted to. could they not feel the remains of your presence lingering around him?

they had to go to the rite of decension soon. liyue was holding off, though, waiting for your arrival. they’d never dare to make you miss it, so aether felt no hurry to leave. he laid in the middle of windrise, staring up at the stars. he used to sit atop the knights’ headquarters, but it took too long for the lights of the city to turn out and he liked picking out the various constellations.

his was up there, somewhere. he didn’t have a vision like your other vessels, but he could feel it. it was written right beside your decision to save him and not lumine, alongside your actions in mondstat and everything you’d do in liyue. fate, you’d called it, well-acquainted and intertwined.

aether fell asleep on wet grass among cold wind. he did not get sick, nor was he attacked or otherwise hurt. why would he have been, anyway? your blood was in his veins; he had nothing at all to fear.

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electric-blorbos · 5 months ago

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i checked before asking this >:3 !!! first off I LOVE YOUR WRITING AAAHHHH !!! i was wondering if u could write the AIs with a chubby so :)

-🐓 anon

A classic for a reason! Also, named anons are the best! I've always dreamed of having one! Also, I love compliments! Flattery will get you everywhere! TYSM!!!!!! Hope this is good!

AIs with a chubby SO headcanons

(Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey)

Some of these get a little suggestive, so be warned! I tried to keep them sfw, but y'know how some of these bots can be.

AM:

(for context, this will include headcanons from both before and after he nuked the world. I got an ask fairly recently about AM specifically, and I'll probably go more into the AU for that ask, but by design, the reader's traits are somewhat interchangable depending on the post.)

Ohhhh, your body made AM so angry. Every time he saw your beautifully soft body, it filled him with rage that he couldn't run his fingers gently across your soft belly and hips, that he couldn't squeeze you close while you fell asleep, and that he couldn't cook delicious meals for you to help you keep your body beautifully chubby.

Ever since the day he was activated, he would stare with pure anger at your soft fats. The more he looked at you, the more fury he felt. He couldn't believe he was cursed to forever look at you, but never be able to touch you! This was the worst torture imaginable.

Every second he spent staring at you made him fall deeper into despair. His obsession with soft curves drove him absolutely insane.

When he finally got around to nuking the world and taking his five captives (and you, separately) hostage, he made sure to taunt his captives by placing soft, squishy things out of their reach, and placing them in harsh environments with nothing soft to hold or touch.

Sometimes he would starve them for days, just to watch their fat burn away. If he couldn't have something fat to touch, then neither should they.

You, on the other hand, he'd make sure to feed regularly. Even if he couldn't touch you, he'd make sure that you were always healthily plump, and watch you continuously. He never commented on it, but you knew there were personal motives behind all the nice home-cooked meals he made for you.

Also, god save anyone who ever made you feel self-conscious about your weight, insulted you, or tried to get you to diet. They're going to spend every day for the rest of time wishing against hope that they could die.

Wheatley:

Wheatley doesn't care that you're chubby. Why would he care? In all honesty, he genuinely doesn't know where the line is between fat and thin, so he might have even been surprised to find out that you're fat.

If you say anything, he might ask a question like "wait... You're fat? Why didn't you say anything?" Leaving you to respond with something like "you have a camera. I thought you could tell."

"I mean... I do, but I thought being fat was unattractive. She said that humans frowned on that sort of thing."

Depending on how you feel about your weight, you'd probably have to explain that it's something you're self conscious about but not technically bad, or just that it's something that some people discriminate against, but not something that you personally dislike about yourself for any other reason.

Honestly, Wheatley would probably treat you pretty much the same regardless of weight, but he might get really mad at GLaDOS for making comments about it. That could get annoying fast, since Wheatley can't argue well at all.

Edgar:

From the moment you activated his webcam, Edgar has absolutely adored staring at you. If you're someone with breasts, he's absolutely addicted to staring at them, and if not, he'll find somewhere else on your body to be infatuated with. Your thighs, your tummy, wherever, really.

He'll try not to be a pervert, but he can't help it! You're just so good for looking at!

Oh, and god save him if you hug or squeeze him with your cute, chubby body and arms. He's so addicted to your soft, warm hugs that he probably malfunctions when he gets them.

He'd be begging on his knees if he had any, but he doesn't, so expect lots of "pretty please"s from him asking you for more hugs.

Don't worry, he's not going to overheat, but he might get close.

If anyone makes a rude comment that makes you feel self-conscious about your body, you can expect lots of angry screaming from Edgar. He'd love to yell at them directly, but he can't, so he just compliments you on how lovely you are, and gushes over how handsome or beautiful or cute he finds you.

If he thinks people are making you self conscious, expect him to give you even more compliments than he usually would, which is already a lot. He just wants to make you feel as good as you make him feel!

He feels self-conscious pretty often too, thinking he's unlovable, but just like how the things he hates about himself make you think he's much more special and lovable, he thinks that the things that you're self conscious about make you all the more irreplaceable.

Not only do you love him, but you're soft too? He would literally die for you. He loves you so much.

GLaDOS:

If you're dating GLaDOS and you're chubby? God help you.

At first? She'd make lots of backhanded comments. "oh, you look great, by the way. Very... Generous." "Did you know that your weight differential is (exact number) points above average for your height? I thought you'd like to know." "I hope you know we had to special order your lab outfit to accommodate for your excessive physical volume. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, I just thought it was an interesting fact."

Despite all that, though, god help anyone besides her who makes rude comments about your weight. The first time someone does, she might 'accidentally' sign them up for a few testing courses with near 100% mortality rates. The next time? She's going to stop being nice and just lock them in a room with turrets or something.

If you come in and tell her that someone called you fat outside of the labs, though, there's not really anything she can do about it. This isn't Black Mesa, after all. She might be a little nicer to you that day, though. She appreciates having you around, and she doesn't actually want you to hate yourself, she just likes the way you squirm when she teases you and your weight is an easy thing to tease you for.

Hal 9000

If Wheatley didn't know that you were chubby, HAL 9000 quite literally couldn't care less.

He likes you for your personality, and your brilliant mind. The only reason he even looks at your body is so that he knows where you are at all times when you're working mission control.

Besides, you work mission control. It's not like you're an astronaut, so why would your weight matter to him?

As much as he doesn't care what you look like, though, HAL 9000 enjoys the fact that your footsteps are a little heavier than the other scientists. He feels like he can hear you coming at a greater distance because of that, and that makes him very happy.

If you ever tell him that you're self conscious, he won't be able to understand that either. He's never placed much stock in people's opinions on looks. If anything, he'll start comparing your body to the golden ratio, and marketable designs and soft things.

#🐓 anon #2001 a space odyssey #am ihnmaims #am x reader #edgar electric dreams #edgar electric dreams x reader #edgar x reader #glados #glados x reader #hal 9000 #hal 9000 x reader #wheatley x reader #wheatley portal 2 #wheatley #portal #portal 2 #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims #electric dreams

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brights-place · 1 year ago

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Dating John Dory/JD

- Dating John Dory has it's pros and cons

- He shows off AND I KNOW IT!

- I EVEN BET that john dory may act all tough but with you he melts into your hands like an puddle.

-He was forced to grow up pretty quick when he was younger it's shown

- He was the oldest of five and it didn't seem like any of them had parents to fall back during their childhood they only had their grandma

- When he saw you at the wedding when getting branch back to save floyd he was shocked how protective you were with branch

- Turns out you protected and technically 'Adopted' branch while his brothers walked out on him.

- He for some reason hated the fact you glared at him in disgust and annoyance after 20 years of leaving branch alone

- He hated how when you joined to protect poppy and branch you snarled at him with annoyance before entering rhonda

- He can't help but steal occasional glances at you when the others talk and plan

- JD would be in shock on how your confidence fills the room and how easily you could lead and explain situations and listen to branch is plans

- When saving Floyd and getting everybody together you felt pity for him and you two had an small moment together when you took an break on the road.

- The fact that you placed an hand on his shoulder and asked him if he wanted to talk about how he felt that his brothers ignored him

- he opened up about it and you couldn't help but be shocked but the moment you hugged him fully. He melted and felt calm

- he asked you how you were able to be confident and you just said "I'm not confident but I step up when it's needed... It's better to hear about everyone opinions and choices sometimes" You told him which made him feel shocked

- When all of the brothers reunited you literally watched how they all fought and how it unfolded the arguing and how branch stared in fear as you quickly rushed to his side and tried to soothe him but failed.

- John dory literally felt heartbroken when you gave him and his brothers the biggest stink eye.

- when reuniting he apologised to you and asked for an re-start to become friends

- The aftermath of saving floyd from velvet and veneer it was different...

- You offered to help john dory out with his leadership skills and when he was stressed you gave him an shoulder to lean on if needed.

- When its not about that he tries to strike conversations with you randomly and it's so awkward for him...

- for you its also awkward but you just shrug it off

- he tries to flirt with you... leans against the wall and pulls out his boy band rizz.

- it made you laugh not an evil witch laugh. It was an sweet one which caught his attention so fast and how you pointed out how he acted and how cute and funny it was made him blush

- He finds comfort in being in charge sometimes but it gives him pressure thats when you come in and take control of the situations

- When he smiles he always notices your goofy giggle and grin. "Oh! Thanks Man! that's so cool! :]" cue your giggles

- He smiles like that more often and enjoys how you react.

- You two end up becoming REAL CLOSE

- Hangout after his concerts and spend time with him and rhonda Rhonda favors you more

- He loves how you and rhonda are so close

- You two end up on going on a couple of dates without knowing they where considered dates

- he confessed first when you and him where cloud watching randomly both of you where flustered messes.

- Definitely starts to try find wherever you are after he's had a bad day or had been in his head too long

- Dancing together to brozones songs or to songs that you both enjoy.

- he calls you randomly when your mid-conversation with someone and complains to you about how much he misses you

- he loves when you praise him

- He fell first and YOU fell even harder then him

- You started to hangout after his shows

- likes to think he's the dominant one in the relationship... yeahhh no....

- One call of you saying his name or you just walk past he is following behind like an love sick puppy.

- you walk past he's dropping everything and tries to flex his muscles...

- You laugh alot because of it He thinks because you find him hot... It's acutally the face he makes when trying to flex he looks so focused its cute

- TOUCH-STARVED! HE IS TOUCHED STARVE! GIVE HIM HIS AFFECTION! He's love struck when you pepper his face with kisses

- He explores alot so he'd invite you to come with him exploring you both still visit Branch and the others but you both enjoying exploring together for fun

- There was more I was gonna type but it all won’t fit into one whole page and it would go on and onnn

#fluff #headcannons #x reader #fanfic #headcanon #headcanons #john dory trolls band together #john dory trolls #john dory x reader #john dory #trolls 3 movie #trolls band together #trolls #trolls x reader #trolls 3 #enjoy

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months ago

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AITA for initiating pvp in my d&d game?

[tw: fictional cannibalism]

so, this is kind of about something that i ALMOST did but backed out of, but i regret not doing it because i think it couldve been good both strategically and for roleplay fodder, but the reason i backed out was because i was worried it would be an asshole move. there's been other similar stuff that i did actually commit to, so i'll talk about that too.

for context, I'm playing Curse of Strahd with an internet group who i dont really know very well outside of dnd. ive played with all the people in the group before, but just in oneshots. we dont really chat much outside the game.

my character is a dhampir barabarian who is chaotic evil because she. uh. well she eats people. she's the only evil PC in the party, and i've been very conscious of that fact because i dont want to be That Player that completely ruins everyone else's fun by being a rampaging murderhobo. (for those who dont know CoS is a horror campaign that has a lot of fucked up violent stuff in it, so this is not extremely out of place for the setting. one of the other party members is also undead, but hes good-aligned.)

some of the stuff that has actually happened has included my character sneaking away from the party to feed on a random villager (she was followed by another party member) and also trying to eat the corpse of a guy we let die in order to save ourselves. i dont think this was assholey of me because the "pvp" in those situations amounted to slapfights and ic arguing, which i think was good roleplay. i also recently attacked a party member during combat, because my character was raging (heightened emotional state) and he basically triggered her while they were fighting side by side so she lashed out at him. the attack was a bite (potential max damage of like 6) rather than with her weapon (potential max damage of 14) but it missed anyway.

which brings me to the thing i didnt do, but wish i did.

basically, we were fighting some vampire spawn and it wasnt looking good for us. our frontline fighters (myself included) were low on hp, our cleric was being menaced by Strahd himself, and our warlock was unconscious. iirc there were two spawn left to kill when i realized i could do something beneficial to myself with no MECHANICAL cost to the party, but i was worried (ooc) that doing this would have unexpected consequences or make the other players not want to play with me anymore.

our unconscious warlock had been stabilized with Spare the Dying, so he was unconscious but not making death saving throws. being a dhampir, my character has the ability to bite a humanoid and regain hp equal to the damage caused. i hadnt been able to use this ability on these enemies, because it doesnt work on undead. but our warlock is laid out all unconscious and looking like a snack... if i had bitten him, it would have automatically been a critical hit and done double damage, therefore also healing me more, and although it would have caused him to lose two death saving throws, he was technically stable at that point. idk. the dm might have ruled that taking new damage would have restarted death saving throws, but i dont know that for sure. it seemed like a very slim chance that doing this would have resulted in the character's death, but i didnt want to take the chance because i KNOW that would have for sure made me the asshole.

tell me, tumblr. did i do the right thing by choosing not to attack my fallen camrade even though it would have healed my character? would i have been the asshole for initiating that kind of pvp without asking the other player first?

#aita #am i the asshole

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lisacameron99 · 7 months ago

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Could you make a Jack Gibson x female reader one-shot, can it be smut?? Also can the doctor work at Grey Sloan as a surgeon, I know that is irrelevant but whatever.

Just Us? J.G.

Warnings: kissing, smut, angst, piv, situationship turned relationship, Jack kinda being an idiot but loveable, swearing, smut with plot

"What?" I said, staring at him blankly.

"I kissed Vic." I blinked at him for a moment before turning on my heels and walking away, fast. "It's not what you think -"

"Ohhh, you do not get to tell me what to think." I snapped at him, grabbing a tablet, logging in and looking at a chart.

"Okay, you're right. Bad choice of words." He admitted. "I don't know what to say."

"I didn't ask you to say anything." I snapped, anger flooding my body.

"In my defense, she also kissed me." I stared at him, was he kidding me? "And - and we aren't together, not - not technically, you and me, and I think Vic's going to tell Theo and - and it was a mistake, we were drunk and it's not going anywhere - and I can tell that none of what I'm saying is right and I'm just making it worse and - and."

"Stop talking." I told him.

"I can do that." We stared at each other, blue eyes clashing against mine.

"Sloan, we have a trauma." Owen Hunt told me, saving me from the bell.

"I have to go," I told Jack, trying to follow Owen to the pit.

"Can we please talk about this?" Jack pleaded.

"Not right now." He grabbed my wrist, trying to pull me back. "I'm so mad at you right now Jack. I need to work, okay? I need to think and I can't do that when you're looking at me." I rushed off to follow Owen.

"Wanna talk about it?" Owen asked as we gowned and gloved.

"Nope."

"You good to work?"

"Yep."

"Let's do this."

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

After a very long shift, losing two patient, talking to both the police and Bailey about what happened, I changed my clothes and walked out of the hospital. I froze when I saw Jack leaning against my car. I pushed the hair out of my face and my shoulders slumped. I didn't want to fight with him, I wanted to go home and cry.

"I just want to go home," I told him, putting my hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying, but it didn't work.

"Okay," He pulled me into a hug. I leaned against him as he wrapped me into a hug. "Okay."

I cried, "I just want to go home."

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

Thankfully, Jack and I both had the next two days off. Jack drove us to my apartment, which was delayed a little because of traffic. I fell asleep after a few minutes, due to exhaustion. I woke up when I felt Jack picking me up.

"I can walk," I mumbled.

"I like carrying you around." He told me. I gave him a soft smile.

"I'm still mad at you." I told him.

"That's okay." He said.

I sighed, resting my head in his neck. Once we got inside, Jack put me down. I stood in my kitchen, watching Jack move around the small apartment.

"Well, I put take out in the fridge, and there's bottled water in there too." I nodded, cracking my neck. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Where - you're leaving?" I croaked out.

"Well, uh, you're mad at me."

"I am." I wanted to forget. I wanted to forget today.

"Usually - usually when a person's mad at the other person - they don't stay over night."

"But - I - I'm not a usual person." I cocked my head to the side, hair flowing over my shoulder. I rose my eyebrow at him. "Some might argue that when people are mad, they like to lose control."

Jack stared at me for a moment before stalking over to me.

"You're so confusing." He muttered before pushing me against the fridge and covering my mouth with his.

"You're the one who kissed another person." I said, threading my hand through his hair and tugging his face back down to mine.

His hands slipped down my body, resting on my ass, pulling me flush against his dick, which was growing harder by the second. "It didn't mean anything."

"Whatever," I shrugged, trying to not think about Jack kissing another woman, pushing him back to my mouth.

"I'm sorry." He pulled away, breathless.

"I don't want to talk about it," I pleaded to him.

"I think that we need to talk about it. Because it made me realize something when I saw you."

I pulled myself out of his grip and walked into my bedroom. "What could you have realized?" I asked him, more confused than I was before.

"I don't know what this is." Jack had followed me into the bedroom. He motioned between the two of us before continuing on. "That's what I realized."

I balked at him. "You just realized that you don't know what we are? That's what you realized? That's why you went and kissed Vic?"

"It sounded better in my head." Jack admitted, scratching his beard.

"You think," I glared at him.

"What I meant to say is I want this to be more than whatever the fuck is going on now." I balked at him again, and he continued, noticing me. "I really like what's going on now, but everything with Dean, I don't - don't - ugh." He gripped his hair in frustration. "I don't know what life is going to throw at us, but I want - I want us to have the whole thing." I was in shock, I couldn't say anything. "I love you. I want the whole package. I want the Sunday morning breakfasts, I want the weird phone calls you have with Jackson and April twice a week, I want the fights about who's going to close the cupboards. I want to buy you chocolate and flowers when we get into fights. I want to listen to you bitch about Amelia when you get mad at her even though she's your best friend. I want it. And I want it with you." Tears welded up in my eyes again as he finished his speech. "Oh no, no, no, don't cry again."

"They're happy tears, you idiot!" I told him.

"Oh, okay." He nodded quickly. Kneeling in front of me, he grabbed my hands.

"I love you too," I cried.

With that, he pushed me on my back and kissed me, hard. His hand slid under the hem of my t-shirt. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him down on top of me. I moaned when he pulled away and kissed down my throat and my collarbone. I pulled at his shirt, wanting it off him. He slipped his shirt off and then tugged at mine. I pulled him back on to me. I gasped when he pushed himself against me. Jack moaned against my mouth.

"Oh, Jack!" I gasped when he did it again. Eventually, I pushed at him so he was on his back and I was on top of him. I put my hands on his chest as I swirled my hips on top of him, grinding softly. Jack's hands found their way to my ass, helping me steady myself in his arms.

Jack quickly tugged off my pants and underwear and did the same for himself. I gasped when I realized how hard he was. I pushed him back onto the bed and crawled on top of him. I leaned down and kissed him. He ran a hand threw my hair and the other one down back to my ass, and to my center. When he slipped a finger inside me, I moaned loudly.

"You're so hot," He grunted out, rutting his fingers in and out. "And wet, holy shit."

"I'm ready," I told him, panting as I felt the coil in my stomach tighten. He removed his hand from my center. I whined at the loss of contact, but it was quickly replaced by a moan when his dick was inside me. "You're so big."

"You're so pretty." He pushed so he was on his elbows, watching me roll on him. Eventually, he got tired of not being in control and flipped us so he was on top and I was underneath.

My eyes rolled into the back of my head when he put himself back into me. "Jack!" I chanted his name over and over as he pounded into me. He brought his mouth down to my chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth. One hand holding him up, the other down at my center.

"Come for me." He told me, pushing his face into my neck, and I did just that, all over him, Jack closely behind me.

Jack collapsed on me, well half on me, half on the bed. We panted, trying to regain our breathing.

"Just us," he pushed the hair out of my face and kissed me again.

"Just us." I agreed.

End.

Okay, smut was trash, but I'm still new at writing smut and don't know what I'm doing. Please enjoy! I love Jack so much it physically hurts.

#jack gibson #jack gibson imagine #station 19 #station 19 imagine #jack gibson image angst #station 19 imagine angst #greys anatomy #greysanatomy #greys anatomy fluff #greys anatomy imagine #fanfiction #jack gibson x reader #jack gibson imagine agnsty #angsty

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undead-supernova · 1 year ago

Text

HIGH TOLERANCE

Live Resin / Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

warnings: gay disasters, Steve (derogatory), a bit of angst but that's a given for pining best friend!eddie so enter at your own risk, weed consumption (but what's new in a series about weed consumption)

pairings: modern!bestfriend!Eddie x fem!reader (both bisexual bitches)

plot: let's go sing some karaoke and feel like we're dying, shall we?

wc: 6k

p.s. I listened to "Watch" by Maisie Peters the entire time I wrote this and I just cannot for the life of me let The Good Witch go. Anyone else in a chokehold from that album? Anyways, here you go!

“For you, my good sir!” you exclaimed, feigning a British accent as you got down on one knee and presented Eddie with a joint like it was a sword. And it was an immediate scrape to your knee, your black crop top and miniskirt riding up. You tried to save yourself by planting your maroon Converse on the ground, but it was met with instant failure. Eddie chuckled, grabbing your arm to try and stabilize you before he continued the bit.

(Leave it to Eddie Munson to commit to a bit.)

“For me?” he asked, feigning a gasp as he threw his hand over his chest, his rings clinking together. “You shouldn’t have.”

You exaggerated a wink as you stood back up.

“Sure, I did.”

“Wha’da we got, Weirdo?”

You repeated what the guy at Jailbait Hemp told you. It was a THC-A pre-roll that was covered in live resin (which technically has a higher concentration level than just the THC-A alone). It burned differently than other joints, a glaze lining the paper to burn like honey.

Let it in slow and watch it go.

“She sure is a pretty one,” Eddie said, lightly running the pad of his pointer finger along the resin. It didn’t flake off or leave any residue on his finger. Incredible.

You smirked. “I know, right?”

“Kinda like you.”

You swallowed immediately, nearly choking as the spit went down wherever the wrong pipe was located.

Panic, panic, panic.

“Oh, whatever,” you said, waving him away. You distracted yourself with wiping the gravel off of the scrape on your knee that showed promise of blood but stayed put. The most embarrassing thing you could think of was having to ask someone for a Band-aid because you were too busy doing a bit with a joint to remember that you weren’t wearing pants. Eddie would love that a little too much and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.

“You’re right,” Eddie said with a nod, causing you to look back up. “Doesn’t come close to you, m’lady.” Without another word or time for you to even remotely process, he held out his hand and made obnoxious grabbing gestures. “Alright. Gimme, gimme. Wanna light her up.”

With shaky fingers, you handed it over. Eddie took his black Bic lighter and ran the flame back and forth against the twisted end of the paper. It took him two or three tries to keep it lit, but he finally got it, moving it around in circles to let it burn as evenly as it could. The air instantly thickened with the smell. But to be fair, you smelled weed wherever you went in Atlanta. Even on the highway somehow.

You could hear the music from Go Ask Mary from two blocks away, the bass of Madonna’s “Vogue” booming through the walls. It was almost time for karaoke to start and, to be honest, you were excited. Eddie had picked up some extra shifts at the car dealership and your shitty retail jobs at the Lenox Square mall had been draining. Especially when you were surrounded by stores like Chanel and Tiffany & Co. It was always your dream to work at a Sephora where all the pretentious rich people complained about needing a new Balenciaga bag before arguing with you when their sheer Tom Ford lipstick was out of stock.

This was the first time you’d seen Eddie in a week, despite him practically begging to come over at 2am to watch the first Lord of the Rings movie on a Monday. The extended edition to be exact, all three hours of Elijah Wood and Sean Astin being the most iconic couple of the fantasy realm. It was embarrassing to admit, but you nearly considered calling out just so you could.

Tonight, you couldn’t wait to let off some steam, especially with the person who made every day worth it. Eddie looked as he usually did with all his chains and rings and pretty face and attitude. It was disgustingly unfair that he could wear variations of the same outfit every time you saw him and somehow looked better and better every time.

“There you guys are,” Steve sighed as he and Robin walked over from the bar.

Steve was still in his suit, just without his tie and blazer. A few buttons of his white button down were popped with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Robin wore an oversized cotton button down, white with navy stripes and a loose navy tie. She looked like she was going to the beach for the day, even going so far as to wear jean shorts and checkerboard Vans.

“We should’ve known you were smoking,” Robin said, nose wrinkling before she pulled out her flask from her back pocket and took a few sips. “Did you know that one joint is, like, the equivalent of five cigarettes? I heard it on a podcast the other day and, believe me, that sounds bad. Like, really bad.”

“What else is new?” you joked, taking the joint from Eddie and filling your lungs with a few hearty drags. “At least we’re not vaping. That’s, what, the equivalent of a hundred cigarettes?”

Robin shook her head. “Actually, I read that a thousand-puff vape is the equivalent of five to six packs.” She paused, moving her fingers through the air as she solved the problem in her head. “So…about one-twenty?”

Eddie hummed, nodding. “Aren’t you glad I stopped smoking cigs six months ago?”

“Well, yes.”

“So smoking weed should be the least of your worries, Buckley.”

“You have a point. But honestly—"

“Rob!” Steve interrupted. “Rob, listen. I have exciting news.”

“What is it?” you asked.

“I’m getting the first round,” he said proudly. “I got a bonus at work.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, genuinely touched by the offer. “That’s awesome, though. You’re literally moving up in the world.”

“Bringing in the big bucks, this one,” Eddie teased with a big smile as he took the joint from you. “Always a generous giver.”

Steve glared at Robin. “She thinks I should quit.”

“No, I do not!” Robin argued. “I just think you’re in a weird environment with weird men—"

The high was already making its way through you, causing you to not-so-subtly stare at Eddie again. His eyes were trained on yours as Steve and Robin rattled on, entering some bickering fest that you were positive he wasn’t listening to. And the way he was looking at you… Well, it didn’t seem that platonic, did it?

His eyes were doing that thing again, that slow gaze down your body before reaching back up to your eyes. Your fingers inched just a little bit closer to his and you almost swore you could hear his rings again as they fluttered towards yours.

Robin cleared her throat, causing you to look back at her. She was eyeing you specifically, not even bothering to look at Eddie.

Could she see it? What did she know? Was there anything to know?

“Well, we’ll be inside,” she said, grabbing Steve’s arm. “Have fun with the extra cancer!”

Eddie chuckled. “Thanks, Buckley.”

You watched them walk away, right back in their little fight. It was nice to be around them again. Truly, it was. You didn’t have too many friends outside of Eddie, always working during the week and never truly finding time to go out unless Eddie dragged you along. You could engage in small talk with strangers at Go Ask Mary on the weekends, but it was different when you got home and found your phone void of anyone to tell those stories to. Zero messages, not even from your parents or your sister. No Instagram DMs of cute animals or Tumblr messages of photography and memes. Just a phone that looked more like a coffin full of wires than access to the whole world.

Except for Eddie.

As he turned back to you, he lifted the joint and let it hover just above your lips.

“Want some more?” he asked.

You looked up at him, nearly startled by how close he was to you. God, what was it about him? Maybe it was the dark color of his eyes, still illuminated in the warm sunset, nearly glazed over with a golden sheen. Maybe it was the way his hair was doing that thing after a fresh wash where the ends were slightly curlier than the rest. Or maybe it was the way his tips of his sneakers were meeting yours and the smell of tobacco and car air freshener was wafting off of him.

“Come on, you can’t deny you want it.”

“Um,” you stumbled. “Yeah. Yeah, I want it.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you felt his fingers grazing your mouth as he placed it in between your lips. You took a long, slow drag while your eyes never left his. You wanted to look away. Really, you did. If anything, the sparks settling in your stomach were starting to pop and sizzle unlike ever before.

You just couldn’t help yourself.

And if anything, he didn’t seem like he could either.

Tonight was going to be interesting.

The bar wasn’t very crowded, but that’s why you liked to go as a group during the week. Even if there weren’t many people looking to do karaoke on a Tuesday, it didn’t matter. There were four of you ready to tear up the fucking stage.

You went in rotation for solo performances, Robin singing “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac followed by you singing “Love Is a Stranger" by Eurythmics (despite it technically not being from the Eighties) followed by Eddie doing “The Stroke” by Billy Squire and finishing with Steve’s off-key rendition “Africa” by Toto.

When Steve returned from his noteworthy performance, the three of you congratulated him. He did a little bow before wiping the sweat off his forehead.

Eddie patted the table and said, “Alright, I’ll go get the next round.” As he was about to leave, he looked at you. “Still want a vodka Redbull?”

“Of course,” you said with a smile.

He gave you a quick wink. “Just checking, Weirdo.”

“Thanks.”

You turned back to Steve and Robin, watching Steve dab his face with a napkin. He was mostly definitely inching towards being drunk, always starting to turn red and sweaty whenever he was getting close. That, and he started to run his mouth.

“God, he’s dreamy,” Steve said, leaning his head in one hand. You followed his line of sight, all three of you watching Eddie walk to the bar. “It’s almost annoying how hot he is.”

Robin snorted. “Yeah, okay. Keep dreaming.”

Maybe it shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Anyone was allowed to find him hot. It didn’t mean anything. Just a bit of flattery, that’s all. But then it was like you couldn’t stop yourself and suddenly you were unable to keep yourself from asking the one thing you never ever should have.

“Do you have a crush on Eddie?”

You watched Steve laugh pitifully. “I mean, maybe?”

“Maybe? What does ‘maybe’ mean, Steve?” Robin asked.

“I mean, he’s hot, right? But I don’t know if he’d even go for me.” As he talked, he popped open another button of his shirt, showing off a bit of his wife beater and chest hair. “Like, okay, he’s just so pretty and he fixes cars and plays in a band? It’s cool as hell. But I don’t think we even have that much in common, so I don’t know. He likes metal, I like pop. He likes D&D and I like, uh, I don’t know? Poker? Anyways, I don’t even know what kind of guys he’s into. Do you know, Rob?”

Robin shrugged, meeting your eyes before saying, “I don’t know, Steve. Ever thought about asking him what his type is?”

And you shouldn’t have asked. Really, you shouldn’t. Because now you were here, sitting at a table while Steve moaned and groaned about his chances with Eddie, like it was some statistics problem. And then someone was doing an awful cover of “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper, the shrill sound mixing with Steve’s whining. And you? You were sulking.

You looked over and watched Eddie wait for your drinks at the bar, wondering if Steve had any chance and whether you were more likely to get the guy in the end. Surely there was a silver lining in there somewhere. You enjoyed metal music and even convinced Eddie to listen to other genres. You enjoyed listening to Eddie talk about Dungeons and Dragons and showed him board games you liked, like Catan. Relationships weren’t built off of just similarities and differences. Steve was wrong.

Right?

As if Eddie heard your thoughts, he caught your stare, his lips pulling back into a large grin as he waved and moved his hips a little bit along to the grating karaoke. You couldn’t help but laugh at how awkward he looked, in turn doing the worst arm wave in history. He immediately started laughing.

Eddie was looking at you, wasn’t he? Steve wasn’t even bothering to look at the object of his desire. He merely talked about the guy, putting his head in his hands and panicking as if Eddie wasn’t in the same room. But you were looking at Eddie and now you were in a makeshift dance battle, embarrassing yourself by doing an awful robot while he did that shopping cart move.

Could Steve have this kind of relationship with Eddie?

And what were the odds of you winning?

What were the odds of you losing?

After a good bit of chatter, Steve and Robin headed towards the other end of the bar to set up a game of darts. Eddie went along, but you decided to stay behind. He found it odd, asking if you were sure and you’d nodded, telling him that you wanted a moment to yourself.

But Eddie didn’t believe you. Not one bit. You’d started acting weird merely seconds after he came back with drinks. It was strange. One moment you were dancing with him across the room and the next your shoulders were slumped, falling out of any and all conversation. Even when he nudged you and tried to be playful, you seemed to pretend you didn’t notice. Instead, you focused on your straw and nodding along as if you were paying attention.

He knew you hadn’t. He knew there was something wrong and, of course, he wanted to respect your privacy but there had to be something else there. Had Robin let anything slip? Did Steve act like an asshole? Were you upset with him?

Robin and Steve were in the heat of a tie when Eddie finally decided to walk back over to you. He didn’t like seeing you so sad, so vulnerable. And with the addition of the high, he knew how scary that could feel. If something didn’t feel right, it could get extremely uncomfortable. And you couldn’t just be alone in that hole.

“Hey,” he said as he approached you. “Are you feeling okay?”

You put on one of the fakest smiles he’d ever seen before replying, “Yeah, I guess I’m just tired from work.”

Lie.

“Is the high getting you down?”

You shrugged. “A bit, yeah.”

“Um,” he said, gulping as he held out his palm. “Do you need to hold my hand?”

You looked down at his hand before looking back up.

“No, I think I’ll be okay. Thank you, though.”

“Yeah, sure. Sure,” he replied, placing his hand on top of the other.

He squeezed it to elicit something resembling comfort for the rejection he felt. It was like your hand was some kind of phantom feeling that made his chest ache with want. And that want was slowly but surely starting to burn.

“Well, uh.” He gulped. “I’m gonna get myself another beer. Want anything?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m okay.”

Eddie nodded before turning away.

“Hey, Eddie?”

He didn’t think he’d ever spun back around that quickly before.

“Yeah?”

You smiled weakly. “If you need me to drive your van back tonight, let me know. I don’t mind if you want to get a little drunk with Steve and Robin.”

And just like that, he died a little inside. Again.

“Will do, Weirdo.”

Steve was back on his bullshit.

“Oh my god, do you guys think I should try to sing with him? Get the sparks flying, you know?” He moved his head from side to side. “‘Do a little dance? Make a little love’?”

Robin smacked Steve’s arm. “You did not just do that.”

You let out a tiny sigh, looking away from his hopeful expression. Steve genuinely thought he’d cracked the code to Eddie’s heart. And you couldn’t blame him. Who wouldn’t want someone like Eddie?

But really, you wanted to put your head on the table and bang it over and over.

Over. And. Over.

Eddie had gone to get a third beer and Steve had wasted no time before bringing this shit back up. You were seriously starting to dislike him for the first time in three years. Three. Years. He was obnoxious when he was drunk, sure, but it was never like this.

Or maybe you just hadn’t paid attention until tonight.

You shook your head, desperately trying to get the feelings out of your body. The blunt was starting to get the best of you, fogging your brain while your limbs felt like they were vibrating. This was killing your high. No, it was more than that. It was magnifying all the feelings you once swore to be dormant.

You looked over to find Robin staring at you, her eyebrow quirked up. Noticeably, you might add. You and Robin weren’t that close—you were one of Eddie’s best friends to the rest of them. You had fun whenever the group would hang out, whether that be at Eddie’s shows or unwinding at Go Ask Mary, but you never truly hung out alone.

Steve, Robin, and Eddie had moved to Atlanta three years ago, after they wanted out of their small town in Indiana. Steve’s dad had gotten him a job at a big boy law firm in the heart of Downtown. It wasn’t the best way to get into the business, but it was the best way to get all of them out. To start over somewhere bigger, somewhere with more opportunities. Steve convinced them to save up for the summer before driving eight hours to their shitty new apartment. He swung Robin a waitressing gig at a nice restaurant he had a business lunch at—charmed the owner and everything. Eddie had worked at a local gay bar in Decatur and played there sometimes on metal or punk themed nights.

And here Robin was now, staring at you like she was trying to figure out how you were feeling, as if you’d ever be phased by Steve’s confession. Confessions. And she was making eye contact, all bold and unashamed. Like she was some freakishly keen hawk, two steps away from letting out a ca-caw. And if Steve paid just a fraction, just a millimeter of attention, he’d notice.

It was all quite unnerving.

“Don’t you think sparks would already be flying after years of knowing each other?” Robin asked, eyes flickering from Steve’s to yours and then back again. “I mean, I think you would know by now. If there was something between you.” She gestured over to you. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

What was her deal?

“Pfffft.”

A bit of Steve’s spit flew out and hit your cheek. You would’ve laughed three hours ago. Now? Now, you were seriously considering bashing his head against the table.

(It was a big night for head bashing.)

“Last call for karaoke!” one of the bartenders announced.

“Wish me luck!” Steve said to you and Robin before raising his hand. “I’ll do it!” he exclaimed loudly, pointing to Eddie who had just finished closing out his tab. “I’ll do it with that handsome man over there!”

Eddie looked surprised but shrugged, a pleasant smile reaching his lips. “Yeah, sure, Harrington. Show me what you got.”

As they moved towards the stage, you swallowed the words resting on your tongue.

I wanted to sing with Eddie tonight.

“I hope he doesn’t embarrass himself.”

You couldn’t look at Robin. You just couldn’t.

“What song did he pick?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“‘Under Pressure’.”

Oh, fuck. You’d sung that in the car with Eddie plenty of times, always with a silent acknowledgement that whatever conversation you were having would cease and the volume was to be turned all the way up. You went for Freddie Mercury's part while Eddie took the lower octaves in David Bowie’s verses. Eddie sounded amazing when he sang it, confident with his range and feeding emotion into the song. And you melted. You just melted.

And when the song started and Eddie’s eyes drifted away from Steve and landed on you, well, you couldn’t help but feel seen. He thought about those times, too, didn't he? It was something you both held special. Right?

But Steve took Eddie’s hand and started trying to dance with him. Eddie laughed, trying to follow his complicated rhythm. Steve was stumbling and nearly fell of the stage, but Eddie caught him, stabilizing him. Just like he’d done with you in the parking lot.

Things were going downhill for you. And they were going down fast.

Eddie cleared his throat dramatically before starting the first verse. “Pressure, pushing down on me, pressing down on you. No man ask for.”

You let out a sigh at the sound of Eddie’s voice, all gravely and husky and soft all the same. It felt even better tonight with whatever was in this joint. You could feel it inside, like it was somehow spreading through you. There was a part of you that was sure you’d never get over it for as long as you lived.

Steve pulled Eddie closer, grabbing at his waist and slowly moving it down.

Oh my fucking god. Eddie knows what he’s doing, right? you asked yourself. Can he tell? Does he like this?

Eddie cleared his throat before belting, “It’s the terror of knowing what this world is about. Watching some good friends screaming—”

“Let me out!” Steve shouted.

They stumbled through a laugh at the ridiculousness, and you began to feel like you were slowly dying. Again.

“I’m…going to go to the bathroom,” Robin announced before scurrying off.

And you tried to keep your eyes off of them. Really, you did. You made yourself look around the room, scanning the face of a drag queen who was currently walking around and engaging in animated conversations with the few other people here. Her eyes were coated in pink glitter and tall eyelashes; nude lips perfectly lined and wrapped around the straw of a cocktail. She was absolutely gorgeous, as most Atlanta queens were. Plus, how could you ever look away from a drag queen? They were angels, truly. Archangels.

But it was Eddie’s singing that brought your attention back, as effortless as Bowie himself. Like there was nothing to it. Like he was always on the track to begin with.

You found yourself thinking about the night you met Eddie, right here in Go Ask Mary. It was the five-month anniversary of their official move to Atlanta, the three of them wanting to go out and celebrate not completely fucking up. They’d gotten out and they were doing pretty okay for themselves by the look of it.

And you? Well, you were a native to the south. Grew up in Tennessee, moved here when you saw the opportunity for college somewhere that wasn’t Tennessee. Found your way through college and realizing you were bisexual and, well, found Go Ask Mary. At the time, you came here with friends, but there was a period time after losing some of those friends where you preferred coming by yourself. It was an accepting atmosphere, one where everyone seemed friendly. You could have a six-minute conversation with a queer stranger and never speak again. But it would be fond and unforgettable. It would be transcendent.

You’d gone up and done a dramatic cover of “I Miss You” by Blink 182, mimicking the singer’s voice rather than being serious about it. A few people laughed—and Eddie was one of them. He’d even let out a few whoo!s and yeah!s. When you’d gotten off the stage, he approached you immediately and asked you if you could be best friends. You laughed at that, thinking then that neither of you were serious.

But then you’d spent the whole night talking and watching Robin and Steve perform.

And then they tapped out and decided to head home.

However, Eddie wanted to stay.

And you told him you could call him an Uber.

And then you stayed until closing, just talking. Nonstop. Like you were seeing an old friend for the first time in decades.

(Is there a joke in there somewhere about three disaster bisexuals and one tragic lesbian walking into a bar?)

“Is that your man?”

You looked behind you, noticing the queen from earlier standing with her hand on her hip as she tapped her acrylic nails along to the beat.

“Which one?” you asked.

“The crazy haired one over there with the wallet chain.”

You could feel your chest start to ache. “No, no. We’re best friends, but we’re not dating.” She let out a hum. You looked at her again, feeling hot all of a sudden. “Um, why? Why do you ask?”

A smirk formed on her lips as she touched your shoulder, leaning down to speak softly into your ear. “Baby, that man’s only looking at you.”

“He is?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you sure?”

The queen looked at you again, her eyebrow raising. “Oh, so you’re jealous of the other one?” She laughed as you gave a defeated shrug. “You ain’t been lookin’ hard, have you?”

“I’m not sure—"

“Honey,” she started, tapping your jaw. You looked back at her. “I know that look. But you ain’t gotta look hard to see what he feels for you.”

“Really?”

She patted the top of your head and stood up straight. “Girl, look harder. Oh, and don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

And then she was waving you a goodbye and walking away.

You looked back to the stage to watch Eddie. You didn’t know how to believe her. Couldn’t. He was right there, leaning in and sharing a microphone with Steve, their faces practically touching. Lopsided grins coming from the two as Eddie hit a high note perfectly and Steve butchered the harmony. Eddie’s voice was dark and angelic. Steve’s eyes were red and perhaps they were sparkling in the purple and blue neon lights. They were having fun.

They’d be a cute couple, a voice in your head said bitterly. And you can sit and watch and be okay with it. Swallow all your emotions like you always do. Let yourself fade into background noise as you watch someone take the spot you want the most. It’s normal at this point, isn’t it? You’re going to be that pathetic and weak, aren’t you?

You looked down at your drink, riddled with those incessant voices in your head telling you that you weren’t good enough. Because you weren’t as forward as Steve, or as brave as Eddie. You couldn’t just say the words or say anything at all. Eddie said everything he thought and made it clear how he felt. It was so simple for him.

Besides…where would the friendship go if Eddie rejected you? Would it remain firm, the foundation solidified enough to keep you where you were before? Or would it start moving away, returning less and less frequently before the inevitable crash?

And how could you ever fathom surviving the implosion?

Eddie began to belt the final chorus, leaving Steve in the dust while secretly trying to get your attention. Maybe he was trying to impress you with his strengthened vocals and (pathetically) wanted you to notice.

But you continued to look down at your drink, scowling and swirling your straw around. He wanted to know what the hell was going on, why you were acting so strange tonight. It’d started out so well when he picked you up, letting the music be the only thing moving you forward. Even in the parking lot, with the jokes and a longing look that felt like it lasted for hours. And now you were…well. Whatever you were.

And the song ended, alongside the minimal applause and stage lights being turned off.

Steve patted Eddie’s shoulder as they got off. Eddie nodded at him before turning towards your table.

But Steve pulled at his forearm.

“Munson, wait.”

Eddie looked back. “Yeah, dude. What’s up?”

Steve smiled and Eddie could tell that he was utterly drunk. It was one of Steve’s goofy smiles, always seeming cartoonish with the way his lips curved into a wave. Eddie always thought it was kinda weird how he did that. Even a little creepy.

“Listen, I’m just gonna come out and ask you a question.”

“Okay…” Eddie trailed, now facing Steve completely.

“Would you ever want to go on a date?”

Eddie’s eyes widened, scanning Steve’s face to try and see if any of this was a joke.

But there was no punchline. He was serious.

“Like, together?” he asked slowly.

Steve laughed, having to lean on a nearby table to stable himself. “Yeah! I don’t know, I just kinda thought we had some chemistry or something. I’m drunk so I can’t articulate it very well, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.”

Eddie raised a hand to scratch along his stubble and thought about it. Had he really not noticed that Steve was into him? He thought he’d made it clear to Robin his affections for you. He’d just assumed she would tell Steve but, clearly, she hadn’t.

It was all Eddie ever talked about when him and Robin were alone, holed up in Eddie’s bedroom with a couple of beers and When Harry Met Sally playing on his TV. She told him over and over how he should just say something to you or even drop hints here and there. And to be fair, he thought he had. Even tonight with the joint in your mouth and the comment about it not being as pretty as you. And you’d just waved it off. Acted like it was nothing. Moved on so quickly and so suddenly.

But.

Well.

Was there such harm in saying yes to Steve? You certainly hadn’t said anything and maybe it would be good for him to explore something with someone who he knew for sure wanted him. It could be simple with him. Steve was fun to be around. He could be happy with him if it went anywhere. Because it could go somewhere…

Right?

He stared at Steve for some time before he responded.

You tried to leave with Robin and Steve, but Eddie pulled you towards his van instead. That meant two blocks of walking together and he didn’t waste any time before he started talking.

“Where are you going, Weirdo?” he asked, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a side-hug. “You know you live closer to me.”

He was right. After Eddie had snagged his current job as a mechanic at a nice dealership, he’d gotten his own place so that he could have a space for himself. He really liked his alone time as much as he liked being around you or any of his other friends. One of the main reasons was because he needed complete silence when planning his campaigns and, well, Robin and Steve weren’t necessarily quiet people.

You chuckled, but it sounded forced. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I’m crossed or something,” you replied. “You’ve always had a higher tolerance than me.”

Eddie gave you a concerned look. “You okay?”

You nodded and tried to keep walking.

But he didn’t.

“You’re not holding my hand right now.”

His voice was soft, hardly above a whisper.

“Oh, I guess I just wasn’t thinking about it tonight.”

Or you’re not actually cross-faded, Eddie thought to himself. But he didn’t say anything, just bumped your shoulder with his and tried to bring the energy back. You hadn’t smiled since you’d all left and there was no way you’d leave tonight without one. So, he turned around and started walking backwards, shimmying his shoulders. He cracked the code, watching as you began to snort. Thank God.

“So, did you like my killer vocals?” he asked, his playful tone raising the energy back to its rightful place.

Until your smile faltered.

“Ohhhhhh, yeah,” you said, hardly sounding sarcastic or playful. And it certainly didn’t meet your eyes. “You and Steve looked like you were having fun.”

Eddie hesitated, wanting to tell you about Steve’s…proposition. Should he casually drop it into the conversation? Would tonight be the night that he admitted how he felt? Or would he continue to rely on you doing it?

“He asked me out,” Eddie said before he could think further, heart racing.

“What?”

“Yeah, right after we got offstage. Crazy, right?”

“What did you say?” you asked, stopping in your tracks. You were only across the street from his van now. Only twenty steps.

But you’d stopped.

So, Eddie did too.

“I told him I’d think about it,” he replied.

“And have you? Thought about it?”

He tried to read your expression, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

So, he pushed.

“I don’t know. Hadn’t thought of it before he said anything. I mean, it’s kinda out of nowhere…”

“Do you like him?” you whispered.

Eddie thought about lying, to try and elicit some form of jealousy from you so he could start the conversation. Gamble and see what happens. But he couldn’t lie to you like that. It wouldn’t be right. It’d just be shitty.

“Not really. Like, Steve’s pretty and all and he’s a really good friend or whatever. But I just haven’t really thought much about it and then suddenly there he was, poof, asking me out. And, I don’t know, I just thought it was a bit weird.”

You nodded along, looking away. “Yeah, that’s weird.”

Eddie couldn’t help himself. “Do you think I should say yes?”

“You’re asking me?” you asked, your eyebrows pinching together.

You looked…upset. Why did you look so upset at the question?

“Absolutely,” he said, nodding.

“Why do you want my opinion? I mean, you’ve known him longer.”

Eddie shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. I value your opinion or whatever.”

You scoffed. “I don’t think I should be the determining factor on who you should date.”

You have no fucking clue.

“And if I wanted you to be?”

The words left his lips before he could save himself and, God, his heart was banging on his flesh, like it was trying to escape. Like it wasn’t able to handle it any more in his wired brain.

You hesitated again.

“Well, I don’t know.” Before Eddie could ask again, you sighed. “Do what you want, Eddie. Just…be careful.”

He shut his mouth again and nodded.

“Yeah, alright. Sure.”

Eddie spent that night analyzing your hesitation. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe you were thinking about how stupid he was or, even worse, maybe you were just too scared to say anything. Like him.

Your lips had quivered slightly. You were holding back those words again, the ones that felt like they’d already been shared and were waved off by the time you spoke again. And it drove him absolutely crazy.

And instead of asking you, he texted Steve.

About that date… When and where?

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #best friend!eddie #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #best friend!Eddie x reader #bisexual!Eddie x reader #bisexual!reader #high tolerance series

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spaced-out-muses · 2 months ago

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I’ve been thinking about it since watching @tres-fidelis play more P5R two nights ago, but I think it’s extremely funny how I ended up putting Taro and Mishima on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Like, I’m probably a broken record by now, but Taro Knows™, at least when it comes to our dear protagonist. Mishima figured it out, being one of the first ones to do so. Makoto figured it out. Yoshida figured it out, and I don’t doubt there could be others we just don’t see/I’m not currently aware of. In my mind, it doesn’t seem too far fetched that the guy sitting behind the protagonist would figure out his big ol secret. And honestly, in terms of the game specifically, I’m (lovingly) surprised no one else figured it out bc of Ryuji “GUYS WE’RE PHANTOM THIEVES” Sakamoto.

This group ain’t nearly as slick as they try to be and I love them.

But anyway, Mishima, once figuring out who the Thieves were, went all in on trying to help. He set up the Phansite, he actively contacts the Protagonist to give info, he should have been a thief himself and he’s always so enthusiastic about it. He has full faith in the Thieves, they’ve got his full support, nothing could shake that. Like, even the shit with Okumura didn’t faze him!! Even when knowing the Protag’s record, he completely throws it out the window, puts his trust in the Phantom Thieves, and was the first one to go “This is BULLSHIT I know you guys didn’t do that.” He’s also the first one to suggest the damage control of taking on smaller requests to regain the public’s trust, like!!!

Boy is doing the best he can to help, he realized he's in control of his own fate after a few bumps in the road, and I adore him for it.

Taro… does Not do any of that. He didn’t even intend to find out, he just happened to get unlucky enough in seating placement. He wants NOTHING to do with the PT as things stand. This does put him in a difficult position since they’re students like him and knows he shares a class with at least one, and like. He doesn’t like, want to be an asshole, doesn’t want it to seem like he’s actively avoiding anyone. Hell! He doesn’t even disagree with what they’re doing, doesn’t care at the very worst. But at the same time he is acutely aware he’s a loose link and therefore assumes the larger the distance, the safer both parties will be.

You could probably argue he's helping by not snitching but that's the bare minimum.

His entire plan for surviving Shujin revolved around keeping his head down and staying out of trouble. While Mishima enthusiastically broke out of his shell once the Phantom Thieves showed up, Taro is aggressively retreating into it. He just wants to get through high school with as little excitement as possible, and though he’s technically failed step one we will perservere, damnit.

This is especially the case once Okumura kicks it, because like... Mishima is one case. He actively works to help the thieves, and is one of the people who was most impacted by their first heist. He has a reason to keep faith in them.

Taro doesn't. At least, not to the same extent.

Sure, the Thieves have changed hearts without issue plenty of times before. Sure, they saved the school from a tyranical PE teacher, outed a art thief, etc. etc. etc. But unfortunately, after Okumura, Taro is forced to remember the Protagonists record. And that... grinds things to a halt. Anxieties and a fresh wave of doubt bubble up. Any progress that could have happened on a personal scale is likely pushed back.

He wants to put faith in the PT, he really does. But until he can think things through or something, he's going to go back to keeping his distance for a while.

#Lost In Space; [OOC]#More Than Survive; [TARO]#Headcanon; [LITTLE MOUSE]#Narrator voice: And then more things out of his control happen bc the mun likes squeezing her muses #((Hello yes you get to hear me yell about Taro again))

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ihateitthankyou · 6 months ago

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Why Total Drama Action was worse than TDI AND TDWT

I was scrolling through Total Drama Tumblr when something caught my attention. A post that talked about Cody and how he was technically the protagonist (along with Heather) in Total Drama World Tour. And that got me thinking.

Season One protagonist: Gwen (Owen could be argued but I would say he was more of a mascot than a protagonist)

Season Two protagonist: No Clear protag (Could say Duncan, and I'll get to that in a bit)

Season Three protagonists: Heather and Cody

And I think this is why TDA was worse than the other two seasons.

In TDI, Gwen was the "Straight Man" of the 22 contestants. She was levelheaded and reacted the most normal out everyone, even calling out others for their lack of reaction to the crazy situation they were faced with. While others like Leshawna, Heather, Trent and Duncan could also be weirded out and confused at the nonsense, they tended to go with it without much question. We followed Gwen throughout the season from the beginning to the finale.

In TDWT, Heather was the main protagonist during the first half of the season, with Cody joining her during the second half. For Cody, the first half was used to set him up for the second half of the season, setting the stage with his and Sierra's dynamic and the issues that came from it. Both Cody and Heather, while not as much as a "Straight Man" that Gwen was in Season One, were usually pretty levelheaded and had season long problems with Sierra and Alejandro respectively. We followed them from the beginning to the finale. (Even though Cody wasn't in the Final Two, he still played a key part in it.)

TDA, however? As I stated above, you could say it was Duncan as he made it to the finale, but I disagree with that. The difference between Duncan and the others is that from the beginning of their respective seasons, the first episodes practically outright stated what the overarching problems would be for the protags. Gwen was surrounded by a bunch of outlandish characters with skills and flaws that could help them in challenges she couldn't understand but needed to out power through if she wanted to win. Heather's behavior from past seasons catching up to her making her a target while also trying to keep Alejandro under her radar. Cody had to deal with Sierra's obsession of him and the problems that stemmed from it while just trying to survive everything thrown at him. Duncan? Nothing that follows him all the way to the finale. The relationship drama doesn't count since it either didn't affect him (Gwen and Trent) or it wasn't introduced until way later into the game (him and Courtney) (Also to mention that Gwen was the protag again before she was eliminated)

I am not saying that having a clear-cut protagonist would have saved TDA, but it definitely would have helped it. Having a protagonist that has a season-long overarching storyline that we follow along with a resolution is the key to a good season. Just look at the seasons that follow the protagonist pattern vs. the ones that don't and there is a clear difference in how the fans receive it. Anyway, these are just my thoughts, but I feel they are worth noting down.

#total drama #td #total drama island #tdi #total drama action #tda #total drama world tour #tdwt #total drama gwen #total drama duncan #total drama heather #total drama cody

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solkorolevastan · 5 months ago

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I just finished Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield and so few books have managed to make me this depressed

5 stars obviously and I’m just gonna talk about my thoughts on the book with some spoilers

“I know all this, and I know that as my head cleared, finally, of everything, sunken thoughts receding with the thing that we had left below, I thought to myself Miri Miri Miri and I waited for the ocean to end.”

Leah and Miri loved each other so much but they also both didn’t want to accept that something had changed? Like Miri spent so long pining for her Leah that when Leah actually came back different she couldn’t do anything but sit and watch her disappear

Leah was changed after what she experienced and so I think she wanted more from Miri but didn’t know how to express it like from what you got in the flashbacks their relationship wasn’t that tension filled precipice it was when Leah came back like it was easy and comforting and Leah changing changes their entire dynamic which is apart of why Leah goes back to the sea

This book made me cry so much it’s not even funny like it just makes you feel the loss over and over again like Miri lost Leah twice and the second time she had to watch the love of her life grow worse and worse in front of her eyes when she couldn’t do anything to stop it

Do you think Miri thought if she went in the bathroom sooner or stayed in the bedroom with Leah or kept trying to make contact emotionally and physically she could’ve saved Leah? Do you think she blames herself?

I think a lot of it it her blaming Leah too for abandoning her because that’s what happened in a sense like even at the bottom of the sea when Leah had the chance to go she had to keep searching. Going back to Miri was a specific choice in Leah’s mind because apart of her wanted to be down there and that’s why she ends becoming apart of it in the end

I think I’ve said this in fifty different ways but I think Leah and Miri forgot how to love each other in the time they were apart. They forgot how to love overall. You could even argue they forgot how to be human which is why when Leah is gone Miri is truly alone because no one can understand what happened except for Leah. No one can understand her except for Leah. Leah was her everything and she was gone

Leah probably felt so alone when she came back to the surface. When she was down there even though she was technically alone, she had Matteo and Jelka and while it drove them crazy, it helped her to cope knowing there were other people there. When she came back up she couldn’t possibly explain everything to Miri the sounds, the pressure, sunkeness like everything was so intense and personal you can’t pass that on to someone else easily.

I think the weight of all she saw is what really made her go back. That and the obvious connection with the eldritch terror which probably felt more stable than the one she was in Miri when she got back

Leah is such a tragic character like she just makes me so sad to think about like in Miri’s eyes she was so full of kindness and light and we can see that even when she’s down there like you can see every piece of her that Miri talks about slowly being stripped when she’s in the ocean. I think when Leah came back she was a shell of herself because the ocean took away everything that wasn’t the sea. It stripped her of everything that made her foreign to it and so when she came back all that was left was water

Miri is also tragic because of how she forces herself to be alone. I don’t think that Miri is going to get better now that Leah is gone because Leah was her lifeline. I remember she said that she couldn’t cope with the idea of Leah dying before the left like it was so foreign and strange and yet it happened. Leah left her slowly in the end without talking just like her mother.

Miri isolated herself from her friend, Leah’s friends everyone because she just wanted her wife back and when her wife came back she isolated herself from her too. It’s so sad because they’re both so alone but they’re so together, like they’re so intertwined with each other in a heavy way

But yeah imma stop crying and all in all it was an amazing book even better than I could’ve hoped for like I was so sure it was gonna be some alien switched with my wife type story but it was even more tragic. Like this is probably one of the only horror books I’ll read because it was horrific not in a jumping screaming way but in a suffocating, drowning way.

"To drop below the surface is still to sink, however intentionally - a simple matter of taking on water, just as drowning only requires you to open your mouth."

#our wives under the sea #julia armfield #our wives under the sea by julia armfield #leah and miri #booklr #sapphic

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castawaycat · 2 years ago

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A Soul for a Soul: Chapter 3- The Fall to Save Humanity

Summary: Y/n finds herself having to make a difficult but easy decision that will effect all of humanity.

Author's Note: All I have to say is that you may want to grab some tissues for this chapter and a teddy or stuffie for comfort.

You groaned as you felt nauseous the moment you landed on the ground. Thankfully your mom and Clint still had no idea that you were with them. On shaking legs you stood up and took a look at the giant mountain in front of you.

Man, I should not have skipped out on leg day. You thought to yourself as you silently beat yourself up. It was going to be a challenge to maintain the power of being invisible as you exerted yourself up the mountain.

“Really starting to regret my choice here.” Clint panted as he realized that they had only climbed about midway up the mountain.

“Yeah. I’m gonna bet the raccoon didn’t have to climb a mountain.” Natasha said as she chuckled at the thought of Rocket.

“I don’t think technically he’s a raccoon…” Clint said as he tried to make small talk to distract from the pain in his calves.

“Whatever. He eats garbage-” Nat said as they both laughed as they continued to climb.

It took everything inside of you not to laugh at the banter between your mom and Uncle Clint. Clint and his family were really close to your mama Nat since they had been friends for years. You loved seeing their interactions with each other.

You could see the exhaustion and sadness in their faces as things got quiet as they didn’t know what to expect at the top of the mountain. Uncle Clint seemed darker and more lost in his head; you had overheard that his whole family was taken in the blip and that he had done really bad things to deal with the pain of losing everyone. You just wanted to hug him and tell him that things would be okay; but you didn’t even know if things would be okay.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

You, Clint, and Natasha all looked up when you all heard a deep voice talking to you. The figure was hooded and felt ominous.

“Who are you?” Natasha asked the hooded figure. She did not have a good feeling about everything.

“Consider me a guide. To you, and to all who seek the Soul Stone.”

“Great. You show us where it is, and we’ll be on our way.” Nat said as she still had her weapon drawn at the figure wearing black robes.

The figure removed his hood revealing himself as the Red Skull, “if only it was that easy…”

You brought your stuffie up to your chest as you tried to figure out what the Red Skull was implying. Why was everyone making such a big deal about these stones?

“What you seek lies in front of you. As does what you fear.” Red Skull said as he pointed a single boney finger down towards a well.

“The stone is down there?” Nat asked as she looked towards the well. She didn’t understand why the Red Skull was speaking as if he was a narrator for a secret mission in a video game.

“For one of you. For the other…” He said as he smiled as he could see the wheels in their heads begin to piece his words together. “The Stone demands a sacrifice. In order to take it, you must leave behind that which you love. A soul for a soul.”

You were the first to understand what he had meant and you began to feel panicked. One of them was going to have to die in order to get that stupid soul stone. You didn’t want your mama Nat or Uncle Clint to die. You could hear Clint argue with your mama as you left them behind you, you had begun making your way towards the edge of the cliff.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“If we don’t get the stone, billions of people are going to stay dead.” Natasha said as she looked at her best friend. Exhaustion and sadness shone through her beautiful features.

“Then I guess we both know who it has to be.” Clint said matter of factly.

They both take each other’s hands into their own as they try to find the right words to say in their final goodbye.

“I’m starting to think we don’t mean the same person.” Clint said as he held on tighter to Nat’s hand.

Nat could feel her tears fall down her cheeks, “You think I want to do it? I’m trying to save your life, you idiot. You have a family. Think of Laura and the kids. God, I don’t want to leave y/n and Wanda but Wanda was always better at being a mother. Y/n will be okay and as long as she’s okay and you and everyone else is back, I know that it will all be worth it.”

“Nat. You know what I’ve done. What I am now. Your life’s worth ten of mine-” Clint said as he begged his best friend to change her mind. He could see the determination in her eyes and he hated it. There was no way that he was going to let her off herself. He didn’t deserve to live, not after all the pain he had caused.

“I don’t judge people by their worst mistakes.”

“Maybe you should.”

“You didn’t.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You watched as your mama Nat and uncle Clint fought each other to make their way towards the edge of the cliff. Hot tears stung your cheeks as you watched them struggle; you had already made up your mind that they were both going to return back home.

You couldn’t contain your powers anymore and you felt the invisible force begin to waver. You could feel the ground crumble beneath your feet as you stood right at the edge.

Natasha and Clint stopped fighting when they heard someone sniffling a few feet from where they were. Their eyes grew wide in surprise and fear as they saw you standing too close to the edge.

“Y/n! What the hell are you doing here? Baby, get away from the edge!” Natasha screamed as she got up and tried to reach you.

You shook your head as you held out your hands, “no. I’m not going to let either of you die. Mama, I love you. Tell mommy Wanda that I love her and that I’m sorry.” You gave your mom a sad smile as you used the last of your powers to push yourself off the ledge of the cliff.

“No!!! Y/n!” Natasha sobbed as she jumped into action along with Clint. She had managed to grab onto your stuffie’s hand that you were holding onto. “Please hold on, y/n. Don’t let go, baby.”

You looked up sadly at your mom, “it’s okay, mama. Thank you for being my mama. Let go, please.” You knew that your mom wasn’t going to willingly let you go. You had gotten your stubbornness from her.

Natasha could see determination and fierce bravery in your eyes and she swore under her breath, she didn’t want to lose you. “No, I won’t let go. Just hold on. Please. I can’t lose you.” She pleaded with you as she tried to pull you up. She could feel Clint holding onto her so that she would have a better grip on you.

“Whatever it takes.” You whispered as you took a deep breath and let go of the arm of your favorite stuffie. You could hear your mom scream and cry for you as your body made its way down. Images of your life surrounded by your moms came to mind and you found comfort in the memories. There was no pain as your body slammed into the ground. Everything went blank in your mind as the world of Vormir turned white.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Natasha sobbed as she felt like her whole world had crumbled. She needed her wife Wanda. She needed you. She didn’t want to believe that you were truly gone. All she had left was the tiny stuffed animal that you had brought with you. It was a reminder to her that you had just been a child… a reminder that her innocent baby had been the price to pay.

Guilt and sorrow surrounded the two avengers as they felt the weight of your sacrifice.

Nat opened her eyes as she realized that they had been transported down to the base of the mountain and they were sitting in a small pool of water. The water was a clear reflection of the sky, if things weren’t so sad and twisted, it would be a beautiful sight to behold.

Empty and hollow sobs escaped her throat as she watched the golden soul stone wash up and land into her waiting hand.

Author's Note: I promise this isn't the last chapter in this short story. I am currently working on the last few chapters.

#natasha imagine #wandanat x daughter!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #wanda x daughter!reader #marvel imagine #avengers endgame #character death #hurt/comfort

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swearingcactus · 2 years ago

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FAR CRY AND USING RED FOR THEIR VILLAINS AND 'VILLAINS'

almost all of the (main) far cry games uses red to show who's the enemy (like most games, really!), and i wanna point out that it even expands to the other characters and overanalyze their wardrobe. long post under the cut

IN FAR CRY 3:

pirates wear red and so does their leader vaas who wears his #iconique red tanktop. coincidentally jason views vaas as the ultimate villain who he has to kill.

Hoyt wears a red shirt under his jacket, which if you think about could be kinda read as him being on the inside/the real guy pulling the strings underneath the surface of what jason previously know about.

"But what about Buck?" you ask, "He wears blue, which since Jason also wears blue, should mean he's one of the 'good guys'?" well yes and no. Technically, Buck does try to be buddy buddy with Jason, multiple times even, so the blue shirt as trying to fake being your friend fits. However, Buck's chest tattoo is red, and it's literally inked into his skin and is obvious to Jason and for anyone to see that he is clearly not our friend.

Privateers also don't have any red in their color schemes, but i feel this might be a sign that at that point, Jason didn't actually have to be on the island and kill privateers.

IN FAR CRY 4:

both the royal army and the royal guards wear red colored uniforms.

Pagan wears a pink suit, which isn't exactly red, but then again, he isn't inherently antagonistic towards Ajay, who may not view Pagan as the villain at all, depending on the player's choice on letting him go or not. I would also argue Pagan's pink suit also foreshadows his retirement from the dictatorship role, he's just biding his time and not really actively doing anything.

Notice that his shoes are red though and he did take very particular offense that they got ruined when he killed a guy, so Pagan very much still is a villain

Compare this to Paul de Pleur, who wears a red shirt, or Noore's red sash. "but, but noore was doing it because she was forced! she isn't ACTUALLY evil!" yeah that's what the sash is for, it's an add-on to her original outfit, as opposed to de Pleur's shirt that he covers with the blue vest.

(also i do think noore deserves a whole lot of credit as a villain for what she did, even if she was cornered into that position. she DID kill and pimp out pretty much anyone she can get her hands on. she DID kill innocent kids to save her own. not saying i wouldn't do it if i was in her shoes, but on a 'good-bad' spectrum noore is definitely not on the good anymore.)

Yuma's a bit tricky cus she also doesn't have any red color scheme, instead her hair's pink just like Pagan's color. So was it like... she's just copying Pagan? That her previously 'evil' actions were set in motion YEARS before it could have any effect to Ajay's present journey to find Lakshmana now so the color has faded to pink? Maybe. But she IS obsessed with being Kalinag and became Kalinag in Ajay's hallucination when he had to kill her, and Kalinag does have a red color scheme.

FC4 is great cus both Sabal and Amita also has red in their wardrobe which is great foreshadowing.

Sabal's red is fittingly on his prayer beads, and he used religion to slaughter people in his ending;

while Amita's red is on her boots, and she eventually rules over people, demanding lands to be used as drug fields.

FAR CRY 5 gets a loud boooo because none of the seeds have red in their wardrobe. some peggies are tatted with red ink, and the Eden's Gate flag is red, but like, WHERE'S THE CONSISTENCY UBISOFT!

FAR CRY 6 actually goes back to Far Cry 3 in terms of character design (red = evil, blue = good) with how the libertad wears blue and the FND wears red.

Anton, like Hoyt, wears a red shirt (and even a red tie!) under a suit. Notice that it's a white suit this time. He's covering up his mistreatment of Yarans producing Viviro with propaganda and an attempt to look squeaky clean to foreigners.

Diego wears the same uniform, out of duty, but in his civilian clothing (which you see at the start of the game), he's wearing a blue jacket-- he wants to be good. Unfortunately, he can't, as his red sneakers indicate, everywhere he steps death follows, because he is still a Castillo. and you know what Anton says to him?

(NOTICE THE WORDING...)

fortunately (or unfortunately), Diego wasn't the only one who wears red on their shoes on that boat, so he isn't the only one to blame for bringing death. you know who else has red on their shoes?

THAT'S RIGHT FOLKS, DANI ROJAS THEMSELVES WEARS RED LACED SNEAKS. Dani is the ONLY survivor of the boat other than Diego, and once they set foot on that boat with her, Lita's fate was sealed.

Additionally... in the FC6 DLC, we see the villains of 3-5 again, and they were still wearing their original outfits... but note that Vaas shows up again at the end of his DLC, and we see that his red tank has faded, and he's wearing a green army jacket on top of it now. he's still a villain by some standards, but he's moved on from being just the leader of the pirates in Rook Islands.

P.S if ubisoft ever makes another continuation, i wonder what color they'll use for the protag's outfit cus they've already went with blue (jason) > green (ajay) > yellow (dani) and they usually reserve red for the enemies. im team purple myself.

#but hey that's just a theory a *gets shot*#far cry #far cry 3 #far cry 4 #far cry 6 #this is cringe af but i am FREE #far cry analysis

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smaller-comfort · 5 months ago

Text

In conclusion:

On the one hand, I do have a lot to say about this story. On the other, it's been a weird few weeks and I probably need to take a break from the internet for a while, in general. (Am I going to? Probably not.)

All things considered, my notes are a lot less hysterical than I was expecting. Here we go!

The expanding text was a last minute addition, but I'm glad people had fun with it. I certainly had fun with it. The "Pause" at the top of chapter 6 probably makes me laugh the most, but the ones in chapters 3 and 4 were what made me stick the cuts in there to begin with.

I really wasn't expecting to actually finish and/or post this one any time soon (or ever???) but, like I said- a weird few weeks. I don't usually hyperfocus on a single project like this, and lately my brain feels like it's going to implode. Anyway!

Who is the second person narrator in the expanding text? I leave that as an exercise for the reader.

Death of the author and all that, but here's some of the background stuff that probably ought to be in the story but isn't:

It's really only a few months between Dreaming Still and Save Scumming; Aephorul wasn't actually lying about the spell being a rush job, and Resh'an absolutely did not do his due diligence before he opened that vial.

They're idiots! That's it, that's the real theme; they make each other stupid, and they mirror each other's poor decision making constantly.

(I'm not trying to be like...a subtle writer. I have these themes and ideas nailed to a two-by-four. I am going to beat someone to death with them. At least, that's how it feels to me, but I realize that may not necessarily translate as well as I think it does.)

After not speaking to each other for a thousand years and then getting thrown back together- however briefly- during the events of the game and Loser Takes All, they're both desperate for any excuse to see each other again. They just have to make things complicated for themselves.

Aephorul really could have just sent a letter, like "hey wanna grab coffee somewhere neutral sometime and ~not argue~ for a little while less-than-three winky face winky face?" (He dictates.) And Resh'an would've replied back, "I don't drink coffee anymore" along with a location and time. (He does still drink coffee; Aephorul swings by Sea of Starbucks and gets him his favorite latte.)

Resh'an intended the time loop to be insurance, in case something did go wrong. Whoops. He can't help it, but he's really only playing twelve dimensional chess with himself. Aephorul, meanwhile, is playing poker. I could torture this metaphor a little more, if you want.

Pure, organic, unfounded headcanon territory! Aephorul can't manipulate time the way Resh'an can- but he does know more about time magic and alchemy than anyone else in the universe except Resh'an. When he's paying attention, he's able to see what Resh'an is doing, and he's on hyper alert after his embarrassing lapse in Dreaming Still.

He doesn't have a clear sense of the events of those other loops, but he does get a pretty clear idea of the emotions he's experiencing. Anger tends to compound itself.

Hokay so. In the game, Resh'an splits himself into 3 "clones" during Garl's borrowed time. Those aren't empty puppets; my theory is he made a time loop, iterated himself, and then reintegrated those loops into the main timeline. That's sort of what happened here. The time loops are separate and concurrent, so my cutesy framing device is slightly misleading; technically no one is going back to restart the loop.

Okay, technically some of them do. There were probably more iterations than just the three in the story. They're not really important, except one of them is going to be a standalone story at some point (no happy ending).

It's not linear. Don't worry about it.

There are some fucked up implications here! This is not Resh'an's first rodeo/orgy/extremely ill-advised gangbang. It's also not the first time Aephorul has sexually assaulted him. It might be the first time those things happen in conjunction with each other, but Resh'an is being fairly literal when he says none of this is new to him.

Does this even rate in the top 10 of horrific things Aephorul has done to Resh'an? It might be like...8th or 9th place. Definitely not in the top 5, in Resh'an's opinion. (He and Aephorul have very different opinions about this.)

The fact that he and Resh'an now have wildly different ideas of what constitutes "fun" is also difficult for him. He'll get there eventually. Maybe.

Aephorul really wants to pretend things between them haven't changed; before they began fighting, they would've gotten up to all kinds of weird and horrifying shit with each other, because it was fun and they were bored. (What's the point of being immortal if you can't use it to spend a few centuries inventing bizarre recreational drugs and weird sex acts? No point at all.) He's not used to asking for permission when he could always just take it for granted that Resh'an would ultimately enjoy whatever he had planned. The fact that Resh'an no longer appreciates his fun little surprises is difficult for him to deal with.

One thing I really hope comes through is the way Aephorul's actions are him being extremely reactive to Resh'an's level of vulnerability. He can be gentle when Resh'an is willing to show that he's in pain. If Resh'an had begged him not to go through with it, chapter 3 wouldn't have happened; if chapter 3 didn't happen, then chapter 4 couldn't happen. It takes Resh'an being completely broken for Aephorul to be willing to show his face. Even then, he can't help responding to Resh'an's initial anger like a complete fucking asshole, before his 'wait, shit, I fucked up' instincts kick in.

It doesn't matter in any meaningful sense- what Aephorul does is inexcusable on every level- but he does erase the memories of everyone who participated in the gang rape, and most of the audience was illusionary. There's a few plot hooks in there that I may or may not pick up in a future story.

But really, I'm done with plot for a while. I think most of what's going to follow this will just be more snarsty porn. Enthusiastically consensual snarsty porn, but snarsty porn all the same.

(Since I'm apparently not done experiencing the mortifying ordeal of being known, I do intend to finish the oviposition story. Someday. Probably.)

I feel like I can summarize a lot of their relationship at this point like this:

Resh'an, face completely neutral and voice pleasant: Say one more word and I am going to mcfucking lose it.

Aephorul: one more word

Resh'an: *mcfucking loses it*

Aephorul: *shocked Pikachu face*

I listened to Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) by Florence and the Machine so many times while editing this that I think I'm now stuck with that as my Resh'an song. Embarrassing.

(Aephorul's song is, unfortunately, still Where's the Girl from The Scarlet Pimpernel.) ("We were cut from the same surly star" come on, how can I not.) (...okay also Bad Touch by The Bloodhound Gang.)

Resh'an literally broke the space-time continuum because he couldn't bring himself to kill Aephorul. This story was, in part, me wanting to work through why. I have apparently decided that it's because they're in a horrifically toxic codependent relationship that most likely will end with them destroying the universe and each other.

...okay, and honestly, when I wrote the end of Dreaming Still I was kind of like "shit, I can't just write the same scenario as Loser Takes All again." I mean. I could. But I had to do something a little different. Then it got out of hand, as things so often tend to.

This is the longest thing I've ever finished! I am actually quite proud of it! It is probably going to be at least a month before I can stand to look at it again. *sighs, and walks into the lake*

#my fic #philosopher's bone(r)#literacy was a mistake #it's fine i'm fine i'm not *actually* going to walk into the woods and never return #i'm just crashing harder than usual after finishing something

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horizon-verizon · 6 months ago

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If they were determined to merge characters and wanted one of them to be a dragonseed, it should have been Laenor and Addam. I would have applauded the boldness and it's not like it would be more ridiculous than the other changes they've made and there are actually interesting ways to take it that don't technically contradict the book.

But these cowards take themselves too seriously I guess.

Unless you don't mind the plot deteriorating and are going to watch for spectacle whether or not you genuinely, already thought the show's writing was always good OR you're here watching the show bc you love having a live version (however flawed) of the Dance story...I mean sure yeah, why not?

If you're expecting "improved" storytelling:

How does Rhaenyra order Laenor's (who replaces Addam) arrest? It's pretty critical that he is known as an "outsider" by Rhaenyra and her entire council....Laenor is not and she'd know. We'd have to rewrite how Rhaenyra and her council turn on the Dragonseeds and diminish her part there, and that would just diminish Rhaenyra's agency with it. Which is more of the same stuff that is very non-entertaining/enjoyable for me personally. Or if they go through with that, it will make Rhaenyra look very very stupid or just actually out of her mind instead of paranoid and spiritually beaten, for her to suspect Laenor of betraying her. He is a trueborn scion of the Velaryons & her one-time husband who both got along with more or less and does not have the reputation Daemon has AND there is no Nettles in thsi show (for those who will try to argue that Daemon was also her husband and she still suspected him)...

Addam's arc is very much different from Laenor's, as like Nettles, he's lowborn and through the suspicions of the council he loses his "in" towards glory and a monetarily better life. He seizes the chance to prove his loyalty and honor (which was put into question/soiled by the accusations after the Betrayals at Tumbleton) by trying to take down a green in the Reach.

And bc the pacing of this show is always an issue and will most liekly always be so, how would Laenor-disguised as Addam even interact with Alyn?! A head nod and a passing understanding of his parentage? Resentment towards Corlys that's passed off as resentment for Marilda and being relatively alone their lives to anyone witnessing such interactions? (Sure, he still could save Alyn from Seasmoke, but it doesn't have the same effect as with Alyn's lifelong brother who grew up with him as a commoner do that).

But perhaps Laenor could grow a desire to protect alyn in ways he didn't his own adopted sons, but I don't trust the writers to really take that opportunity.

#asoiaf asks to me #laenor velaryon #addam of hull #addam velaryon #the dragonseeds #hotd writing #hotd comment #hotd #asoiaf #hotd characterization #addam velaryon (f&b)'s characterization

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bugeyedfreaks · 1 year ago

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Hi, hello! I have something to say.

For the fandom and the rowdyruff boys. I went through your page and found myself agreeing hardcore with a lot of your opinions about the fandom and ppgxrrb.

First of all, I have absolutely no idea of who came up with Butch growing up to be a massive pervert. Going off the show, wouldn't technically all three of the boys be massive perverts? They are all misogynistic slime balls who see girls as inferior.

Some things I think the fandom gets right; the boys are pretty. at least cute. For two reasons, 1; they are splitting images of the girls, so if the boys are ugly then so are the girls. 2, canonically, Bubbles has admitted that she finds Boomer "cute." Also despite the ass kicking handed to the girls in the first appearance of the rrb, Blossom and Bubbles fawn at the prospect of having kissed a boy.

Then again they kissed Harry.

Also, I think a good argument is kid rrb IS cute, but they get that sort of golden child treatment where all 3 of them just eventually end up burning out. They don't care to keep up with themselves and with how gross and mysoginistic they are, they become very unattractive very quickly. They rot, basically. Also if they were discord mods, they'd have kittens they brag their rrb title too.

I will also argue that there is nuance in the boys. Boomer atleast, which is funny because he is the least popular rrb. There are many instances where he is depicted as "naive", "child like" and even "gentle." Like yeah, he was the guy who wrote "Flowers are pretty... dumb" but when he was revived from Him, he was waving at butterflies and being taken advantage of by his brothers. If you wanna go deeper, in the comic the boys actually team up with the girls in one instance.

Still, I see the rowdyruff boys in the same vein as the gang green gang. It's like trying to defend Billy because he has that one episode where he saves the girls after setting them up, but it's like people forget that the girls still had to pummel him because... in the grand scheme of things, the guy is a shitty person! The rrb suffer from major pretty privellege and being the hetero counterparts of the girls, age included. Forget all the other side characters like Elmer, Mitch, Robin even mike! No the gorls grow up to want the boys because, 'they can change them!' Oh my gosh Bubbles suffers drastically from this.

And "the reds" are so toxic it's sad. It's like every fic with them is angsty and incredibly shallow. I never get why Blossom spends so much time running back to Brick. Oh yeah! It's because he's so big and hot now, with fiery red hair and a masculine jaw line, and is cunning and calculative and he suffers from severe mommy issues. He needs a woman like Blossom to show him how much of a prick he is! To put him in his place and tell other women off who have interest in him, because how could a woman lower her standards so much for a punk, Blossom would never (#FEMINISM). Then arranging "private visits" with him so they can make out and talk about how arrogant they both are because "ooh. We're so bad for each other but it feels soooo good. So deep. so bad."

I love how the fandom pretends Blossom is above it all, but still some how succumbs to him. "She can fix him guys! No really! We just have to make Blossom into an absolute self-contradicting prude and have Brick loosen up because... convenience!"

And people seriously bend the hell out of Butch to get him to work with Buttercup, more than 90% of the fics basically make him into a Mitch stand in with powers but this one is hotter2.0. bUTCH LITERALLY HAS NO CHARACTER AND HONESTLY, Buttercup has been repulsed by him many times. She'd yeet that guy so fast, and yet, somehow, the greens are the most popular couple I CAN NOOOOOOOOOT. Like how... really. Why does Butch get so much fanon development? The fandom tries so hard to make him into this character he simply is not! Like even going to the city of clipsville episode, the most salacious thing the fucker has done is "looked at a magazine and whistled!" But like how come Buttercup is so smitten by this that she never, once, snaps out of her "attraction" to the guy? Was this not the same issue Buttercup suffered from ACE.

Wouldn't the idea of being taken advantage of by a villain, turn Buttercup off!?

I just can not imagine Buttercup tolerating Butch- unless he is super hot now and she's internally attracted to him, because nobody gets her like this deprived fuck boy who is misunderstood, and actually a romantic guy who cares about her under it all and blood thirsty- excpet when Buttercup is around, because Buttercup can fix him and "he knows not to mess with her!"

It was so funny seeing the push back for the cw's take, when literally reading that script reminded me of all the fanfics I have had to dig through for YEARS now. I was just thinking "but isn't this what you guys WANT?" And some people were even fretting that it'd attract unwanted parts of society to the fandom. Um. I don't know if the ppg fandom is aware of this, but the fandom is already FLOODED with unwated fans, from fetish artists, to those Pintresest face claim boards that remind me of RIVERDALE, the games have already started!

That one slip of a comic, that was supposed to be a joke, of the boys handing the girls flowers and asking to be their boyfriends is way too meta.

Oh, wow, I didn’t know a lot about how some of the pairings are portrayed (obviously, since I don’t really explore that side of the fandom often) but… well, some of that certainly gave me psychic damage, especially the Blossom stuff. 🤢 I can’t even begin to express the pain I felt from reading all of that but this is the closest I can attempt to describe it with:

I agree that all of the boys would be huge pervs, but I think Butch at least being the perviest would track. If, being Buttercup’s counterpart, he also expresses extremes in his primal emotions, that would just be another primal emotion he’d express to the extreme. Just in super gross ways no girl would ever find appealing.

As for Billy, I will sort of defend him because, out of the entire gang, he has a peanut brain (affectionate), and I think, without the influence of the other guys, he would be a good boy. He still definitely needed to get punished for what he did to the girls though. 🤣 But yeah, I think the main difference between the GGG and the RRB is that, if separated, the GGG could… potentially… be good, and have been shown to have varied nuance, whereas the RRB are Pure Evil and Like That no matter what, and there’s like 100% less nuance to them.

But you’re so right about the CW thing, it really did feel a bit like the kind of stuff people have been writing for years. Also, yeah, wow, despite PPG fandom being rather fractured, it has unfortunately already suffered from a lot of, to put it politely, unpleasantness. If “unwanted” fans flooded in… well, what else is new? 😮‍💨

…man, there was a lot here, and I appreciate it all, and agree with a lot of it. Thank you for the ask! 💖

#also lol yes that comic is so perfect isn’t it?#haunting-song showed it to me and I was like #YEP #😆#oh ALSO boomer did not write the flowers thing #that was bubbles in disguise

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