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maxwell-grant · 3 months ago

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The Penguin: Episode 8 "Great or Little Thing" Series Finale Breakdown

So first and foremost I need to give a shout-out to everyone who's been following this with me and helped me week after week process and articulate this show, this brilliant Penguin Braintrust without which I would be incredibly lost on how to even begin breaking this thing down this way: @davidmann95, @wil4x, @book--wyrm and my friend Lucas who is not on Tumblr.

And so we're here at last, in the end of the show. This took forever. I need a goddamn break. This isn't enough and will never be enough but it'll have to do. So let's get to the episode that has had the world joining hands in the unanimous urge to see the absolute shit kicked out of Oswald, and has made the character at last earn this:

(Episode 1) (Episode 2) (Episode 3) (Episode 4) (Episode 5) (Episode 6) (Episode 7)

So who would have guessed that cartoon dirtbag Rex Calabrese was still gonna turn out to be less of a cartoon dirtbag than Oz the moment we stop seeing him through Oz's eyes. Still a terrible person by every metric, but terrible in the same way a lot of Sopranos characters are terrible: this is, at the end of the day, a job, and you can talk to them, you can sit at a table to get down to business with them, and you probably know people in your life like them, and maybe you can even count of them to get real and even help you when the chips are down, even if it doesn't mitigate everything else that they are or do. At the very end, he was neither the benevolent god-king that Oz saw him as, nor was he the absurd dirtbag gangster we had him pegged as - there was never anything exceptional about Rex Calabrese, he's just a real criminal. Maybe the realest in the show.

I said in the last post that Francis burned with hate at everyone in the world except the person who most ruined her life and haha WOW was I wrong, because it turns she's known the entire goddamn time, and quite possibly no one has ever hated him more than Francis.

Most people in the show who hate Oz do so because he's a destructive bastard who craps on their lives directly, or because he's a lying sneaky fuck who does nothing while their lives are ruined, and Francis has had to deal with both longer than anyone else. I can't possibly count every single way this wildly recontextualizes every single interaction, every moment, everything that Francis has shown us and done since the first episode, because I'd have to recap EVERY scene and line of dialogue she has and we still have so much else to get through.

Why was Francis was so effectively able to withhold affection and hold his feet to the fire and give him that bottomless pit of yearning in his stomach that's driven him to move mountains in pursuit of it? Because Francis wouldn't have loved him even if he gave her the entire world at age 12. She never had any affection or love left for him. Oz was always chasing nothing.

And all along it was Rex who shaped the entire course of Oswald's life, as well as prefiguring his dynamic with Victor, with a single conversation. Oswald spend his childhood wanting for Rex Calabrese to notice and like him and be his friend, and he has no idea how much Rex actually affected his life.

That fateful night at Monroe's was never the feel-good story about his Ma summoning the willpower to live by dancing away the grief, and it was never even just the night of the eternal promise that Oz thinks back to, it was a fucking trap to kill Oz. Nothing he has in his life is real, nothing he says is true, he has never not lived in complete total delusion.

The sheer disgust in Deirdre O'Connell's face at the "I do too". How much of her personality we completely understand was born from this absolute resentment she's nursed for decades towards Oz.

And this rotten little turd comes at her with a perfect speech that hits her every insecurity and bitterness and spite and situation and convinces her to give him another chance. The nature versus nurture thing again - Oswald was shaped by hardship, by decades of hard work and neglect, by the total absence of his mother's love while in turn being forced to live in stunted childhood dedicating himself to always taking care of her, and maybe what we're seeing here is heavily distorted by Francis's POV - or maybe he was always a little monster, because this guy talking to her is The Penguin, the same guy doing the same things in the same way, either way it doesn't matter. Again, born fucking ready.

So now we see our three major supporting characters - Sofia, Victor and Francis - all of them have shown that they had a chance to walk away from Oz, to not let him ruin their lives further. All of them could have left Oswald behind, and all of them should have left Oswald behind, but they had to come back and justify the choice to do so, they had to get satisfaction, it couldn't have been for nothing. Victor had his car and a girlfriend in a bus waiting for him, Sofia had a jet to take her to Italy, and Francis had Rex Calabrese ready and waiting to put him down without a word. All of them had a chance to get out of the show and never look back, but like Oz, they had to rectify and overcorrect for an insult.

Sofia can't walk away from Gotham without punishing Oz for turning her in, for killing Alberto and further lying to her, she can't accept that this man, this embodiment of Carmine's legacy and hold over her, is still out there unpunished getting away with what he's done. Victor can't walk away from Gotham knowing that his parents did everything right and still died for nothing, that every hurtful thing Oz said was right, he can't let "They don't give out awards for dying in the projects" be the last word in his and their lives. And Francis can't walk away from Oz, who killed her two sons and keeps lying about it, who ruined her life and now keeps promising he will take care of her and acting like everything will be fine, she can't let this pass even if she can't kill him either, and so she'll make him give her the world and die trying.

The tragedy of what happened is what hurt/broke them - the added insult of what Oz said or did is what they just can't live with. It can't be for nothing.

Goddamnit it, it was really just too telegraphed for it to not happen the way it did.

I fucking knew it the moment the episode started and we got the grungy boss orchestral take on the funny Penguin chords that we were in for some calamitous shit.

We see at first that, in spite of seemingly failing, Vic has graduated to the point he can give his own speeches, gain his own allies, run his own cons - he's not just Oz's proxy, but will manage to convince the others to become such as well, and he's coming at this from a place of complete sincere belief in everything that Oz says, all of the man of the people rhetoric he will so thoroughly pervert and then sell to the people actually responsible for everything he told Victor he was fighting against.

Zeke walks up to him nearly crying about how Sofia blew it all up and Vic instantly asks back where's Oz - not because he doesn't care about Crown Point, but he's already processed it and has already learned with Oz how to just barrel forward regardless, now it's time to get to work. Victor who so readily throws himself into rescuing Oz again and again. Victor who's lost everything - he doesn't have his family, he doesn't have Graciela, he doesn't have the other mobs backing him up, and right now he doesn't even have Crown Point anymore, all he has is Oz.

The man in red who reads the Law Gave him three weeks of life, Three little weeks in which to heal His soul of his soul's strife, And cleanse from every blot of blood The hand that held the knife - The Ballad of Reading Gaol

Sofia dressed in two thematically appropriate outfits - the red scarf echoing both the first outfit we see her in, back to covering her neck but in control of her own collar, and the outfit we see her the farthest back in time with at the start of Episode 4, and with her final crimson fur coat outfit accompanying her final greatest triumph and ultimate defeat in the show. Not only that, but in this episode she also gets to perform characteristically appropriate stylized torture - holding a family intervention and therapy session with mafioso torture tactics to try and wrench the truth out of her victimizer, enacting calculated sadistic yet righteous justice via psychological breakdown, and ultimately allowing the woman he victimized and wronged to take her killshot at him.

See, it's not just that Sofia Gigante is a Batman Villain, or that she's well passed the threshold of supervillain. Cristin Milioti doesn't play Sofia like she's a new character, which she basically is, and she isn't just playing a tortured gangster lady protagonist dipping into camp villain territory, which she also is - she plays Sofia Gigante like she's been a Batman Rogues headliner for decades now stepping into the spotlight once again, like she's the dark modern revamp of someone Adam West would have thought and she's just always been around showing up in stuff along with The Penguin, like she's only not fighting or teaming up with Two-Face in this because he's not here yet. It is crucially important that Sofia passes every standard of Batman Villain imaginable with flying colors, in part because it helps to reinforce that The Penguin is a monster all his own.

Even here, with as much power as she's ever possibly held over him, reduced him to a whimpering begging mess to be killed off in a second, she is so shocked at the sheer brazen selfishness and delusion and level of bullshit on display, that even now he won't break character and think about his actions and admit to what he's done not even to save his own mother from mutilation, that she just loses the script entirely. Her entire show of power collapses and she physically recoils from sheer disgust at just how low Oswald is, at just how much he lacks the ability to even suffer for what he's done. Realizing that there is simply not enough of a soul in this filthy beast to even torture, and that however much she hates Oswald for ruining her life, someone had a prior claim all along.

Eve - Sofia - Francis in the end united in, however much they may dislike each other, however different their circumstances may be, there is nothing they could possibly do to each other that would be worse than what Oswald has done to all of them, joined in silent agreement that their rage ultimately belongs in a bullet fired at Oz's head and that they deserve their kill shot at this man.

"I had enough to give, Oswald".

This really is gonna be the high point of Francis's life from this point on.

Aw man, I liked Sofia's scruffy dirtbag detective, I wanted him to stick around as one of the reocurring characters like the movie cops

Oh Victor, sweet kind Victor, you couldn't possibly ask for anything worse in the entire world.

Oz feebly already beginning to lie and spin his new version of the events, that Sofia stabbed him and fucked up with Ma, and here comes Victor with the reversal of their dynamic, seeing this guy who's been brought low by the oppressive force looming over his life that he must defeat (because all that Victor knows about Sofia at this point is that she used to be Oz's boss and is now out to kill them, that she is scary as hell, and regardless of whether or not she was the Hangman, she just bombed his fucking neighborhood) and reaching out to him with a speech about solidarity and dignity and self-worth and picking yourself up by your fucking bootstraps to save the day. And Oz responds by coaching him on how to be a better bullshitter. Because to Oz, he knows the playbook by heart, but Victor meant it all.

Victor rebuilds Oz from basically nothing by providing him with the validation that he so desperately always craved and never got, saying all the things he always wanted to hear, poised so they can finish this together, poised to give him not only the army he asked for, but a full-blown revolution, and he never once asks for anything in return. Just, goddamnit this isn't hurting any less.

"She, sh-she'll never look at me again, all right?....unless I get this done. Got a promise to keep." Maybe the one and only time his mask ever fully cracks. For a second. He rebuilds it right back up and gets to work, but it cracked. He knows what he's doing, up until the moment he doesn't. It's that simple.

A lot of what drives Oz is acceptance, and a lot of what drives him is his desire to be accepted in worlds that have been declared, by how they run themselves and by the people that inhabit these worlds, as worlds that he was never going to be included in. And one of those worlds is the hierarchy and the hoi polloi of the political realm and the power within the political realm because he understands that all politics are corrupt essentially, and the damage that he could do then in being part of a political infrastructure of Gotham interests him. I thought it would be nice if, in that time jump, he had been invited to maybe a gala or two, you know what I mean? It'd be awkward. He'd be slurping out of the fucking teacup, there'd be stains on the table, he wouldn't really fit in, but he’d fucking love being there. - Colin Farrell

Mirroring the scene in Episode 01 where he adjusts himself next to the car, scuffing himself up to look like the sleazy funnyman the Falcones keep around for kicks, now he's dressing up as much as he can and asking Victor for input, because he truly values what the kid thinks and, goddamnit.

"C'mahn, I don't bite", pfft yeah, not in this movie universe anyway. And to the same guy you did the nose-gushing-blood bit to, even.

Minutes inside of City Hall and he already parks his ass right on Bella Real's seat - not as any kind of intentional slight against her, it's just naturally where he goes to, even before the scene ends and we see his new plans start to come to fruition.

Guy who takes offense at Viti calling Sofia a psycho and then goes up to Councilman Hady talking about the unhinged loony bin broad who went "full psycho" that he's handing to him on a platter, pointedly calling her Falcone.

At first I thought it was funny that Sal Maroni was getting blamed here for Bliss and the underground lab, but then I remembered that he was actually the one who introduced Drops to Gotham and the whole epidemic that became, so if anything it is an extremely easy part of the story to sell, even without his body being down there and all.

"You're gonna have some trouble, Oz" - pointedly smiling and calling him Oz instead of Oswald as he had up to this point, because by that point he's already a crony and already willing to work with this guy handing him all these miracles.

"You wanna be welcome? You gotta look, clean" Yes Father Pal, I Shall Become A Capitalist Caricature

You can see in the walk around, in his look at Bella Real and the mayor's office high up above and the steps, how little Ozzie's gears turn once again and rebuild his life after losing the streets and everything that happened with Ma - This is the next nest, this is the next throne, this is next schmuck I gotta cozy up to, this is the next boss looking down on me that I gotta destroy, there's the reward waiting for me if I do. This is the one that matters, I did everything in the shit and now I'm gonna get me sum goddamn respeck, Feh Ma of course.

And before all of this we see Sofia's next move, showing the ways in which she is good at this, the ways in which she truly is something outside of the worldview of what these gangsters are used to, and why she is going to lose. "Because I can". She is good at commanding a room and promising rewards beyond the wildest dreams of these street crimelords because she can offer everything they want and lose nothing she cares about for it, she will hand them everything and dip because she can, and she is going to lose because she can lose. Because she still thinks there is an end in sight for her, she thinks she will get to walk away from this universe and go meet a happy ending at a cafe in Florence.

It's not just that Sofia was born into privilege and never really lived in Gotham and could just hop onto a plane out of here anytime, it's also that she has room in her life for introspection, self-awareness, consideration towards others, and all those things that come easier when you're "born full", and not when you're the starving hustler for whom leaving the city was never an option even if he had all the money in the world, the hungry animal who wants this, wants everything, harder than anyone has ever wanted anything. The guy who has no room for anything else in his brain other than a perpetual bullshit generator set to a 24/7 chorus of "I GOTTA WIIIIIIN"

Another element to her that I really love is, she's good at this. She knows she's good at this, she was supposed to take over the family. She may not know the ins and outs of the game as it currently stands, but she is good at this. Some of it is, I think that's the only world she knows, and some of it is there's something in there, that's always been there, and she believes it is rightfully hers. There's an element of, "I need to have made it worth it for something", and if that means power, then okay. - Cristin Milioti

There’s a level for both of them that they enjoy each other’s suffering, and that sort of leads to Sofia’s downfall. If she didn’t need to see Oz suffer she might have been free. And she really gets in her own way in that regard and largely because Oz is this crutch that she just cannot let go of. - Lauren LeFranc

And here we get to the end of season 1 of HBO's The Sofia Show, the bittersweet in hindsight but extremely cathartic torching of the set as a last hard-earned spiritual victory by our hard-done-by lady protagonist. All of her family is dead, the city is out for her blood, she gathered all the remaining criminals for One Last Job with everything on the line, and she is having a very fun time with her montage destroying her home and family name beyond recovery. She is going to finish her character arc, get to finally kill her former comedy sidekick turned mortal nemesis, and hop on a plane to The White Lotus resort straight away into greener (if only marginally less fucked up) genre territory away from this ugly nightmare city. Alas, this is not The Sofia Show, and it's time for her theme suite to catch up to her once again and tell us of how very badly this is all going to go for her.

And she can't even be that shocked, when the high of burning it all down goes away, when she sees that old Ozzie Cobb wriggled his way out of this jam regardless and is now coming at her with a speech, she can't even react to it. Deep down she knows how the rest of the night is going to go. She may not have expected Arkham outright, but she was braced for a loathsome fate.

It rules so much they give him a big fat fight the power speech with a bloody revolution montage, and we can only sit there aghast with Sofia at the sheer audacity of him to act like this, like a man of the people, thinking he truly has the right to be talking like this and to her of all people.

And now we see how Oz won the gang war, and the next domino to fall on the downfall of Gotham City, and the first effect of his own rise to power: like The Riddler, he has toppled the order of things and he has turned people into extensions of himself, Victor being the first and the one who gave him this revolution, of all the little mini Penguins out there devouring the social structure of Gotham crime forever. You kill the boss, you become the boss now. Everyone can bleed and everyone can be killed and everyone must be killed in the quest to the top, no handrails or codes, they wouldn't invite him and so he crashed. After he unified the criminal underdogs, Victor rallied the underdogs beneath the underdogs, and now the streets are a jungle where there will never be an end to the wars over who gets to be atop the food chain, because they are all fighting to see who gets to be the next Penguin.

For decades people have written Oswald Cobblepot as a creep and a sleaze and an incel who hurts/kills women for rejecting him, or who is chronically insecure about them and I can very confidently say nobody ever did anything half as horrible and half as truthful and half as meaningful as LeFranc did here. We see the other reason why it was so imperative to her that Oswald not be a misogynist, and it has nothing to do with just making him more likeable or sympathetic or honorable. We get in this episode the pay off to the thoughtline: okay, he's actually a gangster who respects women, he does not act like every other prestige drama gangster who ever lived, we are going to center women in this show and he will treat them with respect - now let's watch how he HORRIBLY screws them over in the name of this respectful gentleman persona he lives by, let's watch how he betrays them in the ways that matter most, how he even makes them wish they were dead without personally ever lifting a finger to harm them, let's do some grown-up feminist commentary in Batman for a change and highlight the ways in which men profit from belittling and oppressing and destroying women even when they're pointedly not misogynistic and even self-professed genuine allies to them.

And so it is that the only Falcone mobster who isn't misogynistic towards Sofia is the one who screws her the most horribly. He will murder every man he comes across, he will murder every man he could have been and every man who is even marginally better than him in any way, he will push all of his brothers out of the nest and not tolerate any other big shot in town bigger than him and not even the only man, the only person, in town who loves him will be spared. But he is a gentleman, so he leaves the women alive (well, except for Nadia Maroni, but she was a rival big shot and worse, his boss for a day or two, so she obviously had to go eventually).

I thought about his greatest fear, and it made a lot of sense to me that his greatest fear would be that love is transactional. That if he does not achieve a level of power and give Francis certain types of things that he’s promised her she might not love him. And that informs every relationship he has on the show It was always important to me, and this was always part of my initial pitch, that if Oz was to achieve a level of power—and that is something that was not up for discussion, that was my job that I was tasked with for the season—that he has to lose something emotionally. It can’t come without a cost. - Lauren LeFranc

"the crooked politics that have allowed wealthy elites like Sofia Falcone to wreak havoc". Oz has weaponized the status quo against her so throughly that she is going away under the exact same image that she did it the first time, as a privileged serial killer and Falcone. She doesn't even get to have her new name anymore, and the rest of Gotham does not see her as the new and strange and horrific new threat that she embodied in Oz's life - she is going away as just another upper-class monster like her dad.

The triumph that Oswald has fought his entire life for, the Big One that he's scraped and fought and hoped his entire life would happen and he'd get to show his Ma at the end, the thing that he's going to throw a party for at this moment, is just a politician on tv saying things that Oswald claims he told him to say.

All of our 3 major supporting characters will thus reach the high point of their lives, on the moment before it is ripped away and they are destroyed forever. Francis gets to finally spit all of her hatred back to Oz and take her revenge on him, and her babies appear before her alive and unharmed. Sofia gets to burn down her father and his legacy once and for all, and is on her way to kill her nemesis and finally be free of it all. Victor succeeds in helping Oz win, they have revolutionized the gangs and defeated the big bad Falcone and he's done right by his new family what he couldn't do with his old one.

And of course, Oswald finally wins - he is the last man standing, he's defeated his greatest enemy, he is the big shot of Gotham and his victory is, so he claims, right there on the tv for his Ma to see, he can finally get what he's always wanted now - and then he doesn't, and then his soul crumbles, before he finishes the job by murdering his heart.

Oz didn’t need to do that, like it wasn’t actually necessary. In that moment, Victor did not betray him. He did nothing wrong. In fact, the thing that he did “wrong” in Oz’s eyes is that he loves him and that he cares about him and Oz actually cares about Victor. I think by the end Oz sees that as a really big problem because he loves his mother so deeply and Sofia took advantage of that love, and then it became sort of a weakness in his eyes. Victor saw him at his most vulnerable and for Oz to achieve the power that he thinks he needs, he can’t have that level of humanity. He can’t have that heart with him anymore. So he stifles his own heart. He kills it. - Lauren LeFranc

When he said to Vic in the sewer, “They'll tell stories about us one day, kid,” he meant it. At that stage, he actually saw that he could rise and Vic could come with him. It's only when the vulnerability and the shock of his mother being taken from him, and the place of vulnerability and danger that puts him in, that he realizes there's no more love, there's no more affection, there's no one else I'm going to have in my life that can lead me to such vulnerability as my mother has led me to or as this kid could potentially lead me to. - Colin Farrell

He's not relishing being horrible. When he realizes, "Oh God, Victor makes me vulnerable. I can't have that shit anymore." The way that Lauren wrote it, and the way Colin played, there's such sadness under the horror. You're like, oh my God, how fucked up do you have to be that the one person who you feel you have any connection with now, you have to snuff out because it makes you weak. What happened to you? - Matt Reeves

"You think she forgives me?" Once again, the mask cracks. Only around Victor. Only because of Victor. And he can't have that again.

And thus we get to the final parallel between our 3 side characters - that in the end, all they did was serve Oz's own rise to power, and hand him the world in exchange for their lives. All they were to him were additional steps in the ladder that began with his brothers. Francis gave him his life, his drive, his motivation and eternal justification, the insatiable pit in his gut driving him to do this forever. Sofia got him his promotion to Falcone lackey, and then she got him another promotion by handing him the tools with which he could become an underground boss and rally them, and then she got him another promotion by handing him the keys to his political career on a silver platter. And Victor saved his life, more than once. He helped him, provided the justification he has craved for a lifetime, rebuilt him, gave him his revolution, gave him the streets, and showed him the last thing he needed to kill to make it to the top.

Wow man let me tell my good friend, The Family Butcherer, who butchers every family he gets his hands on whether a crime family or a literal one, how much I think of him as family.

"They don't give out awards for dying in the projects"

Just like with Squid, Vic's emotional intelligence dooms him. He sees this man whom is like family to him brought to his lowest point, crushed beyond measure, in what he assumes was just a phenomenally terrible stroke of fate and not something he had any blame whatsoever for, and reaches out to pat him in the back, emotionally reassure him that it wasn't all for nothing, that his family would surely be proud of him, and that there's things to look forward to.

Vic threw away his chance to walk away into the sunset with Graciela and he just had to come back to save Oz (AND Sofia, the one who'd bomb his neighborhood) from the Maronis, the least of all possible evils in his life and his city and who never even noticed him. Victor only narrowly missed out in 2 situations that Oz would have absolutely left him to die in, so there just had to be a third where he'd die in the absolute worst way possible. Not with Sofia's gunshot to the head, not bombed to rubble along with his neighborhood, no, Mr. Carmine 2 had to make it as painful and intimate as possible.

Vic the only Number Two in town who couldn't kill his boss and in fact never even considered doing so, and so he dies - there is just no room for him anymore, not in Oz's life, nor in the new Gotham that the two built together.

LEFRANC: "You see Oz become this next level monster, I remember the take too. Jennifer and I look at each other, Colin transforms his face in this really remarkable way, that I don't think any of us fully anticipated could be achieved in that way." - The Penguin Podcast Episode 8

I knew that the general sentiment was that, by the end, they kind of wanted to, in a way, kill the Oz that we met in the film. I felt that there was a sense of creative responsibility that leaned towards, “We cannot have this man as a likable character,” which is hard I think they wanted that in the earth by the end of the eight hours. They wanted that RIP. That's gone. I hated that scene. I really did. I was fucking so pissed off. It felt in performing it as — guess what? — you would like it to feel in viewing it. It felt gross, it felt cruel, it felt absolutely insane, and it felt like Oz was reaching a point of no return. - Colin Farrell

So the day after I watched this episode, my friend Lucas messaged me in the afternoon sending me audio messages, "Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch! He stole his identity, he didn't even die with his fucking name! They'll never find him! Fuck, goddamnit!" "ELE MORREU COMO INDIGENTE, PORRA" and, yeah. Yeah. That gets to the heart of it.

If Vic was just a guy taking his money, if Vic was purely transactional, if he was just another Link, he'd have made it. Oz wouldn't have given a shit about him, Oz would have died on the sidewalk when the Maronis hit at minimum. All this piece of shit wants is love, and when he gets it, when it's finally non-transactional, from the ONLY person in the entire show who loved him, he has to kill it, he doesn't know how to deal with it, he has to smother his heart.

He has to become Carmine Falcone 2, strangling the poor and vulnerable of Gotham while pinning all of his crimes on Sofia.

Vic just wanted his family back, man. He just wanted a family again, to at least show his family that they didn't die for nothing. The thing that Oz spits in his face as he dies. It wasn't for nothin.

This show has so many dozen little variations of Penguin getting his heart broken and retaliating cruelly, but this one hurts the most partially because it has no basis whatsoever on any pre-existing insult or cruelty, there was nothing that warranted this, and you still get why Oz felt that he had to do it. The lowest, weakest moment of his life, and he can never permit anything like it ever again.

Victor was his heart, and The Penguin remembered that his heart only exists to be broken.

Victor punctures the illusion, and he cannot have that. Everything about The Penguin hinges on that singular fact of his life: he cannot and will not break character. He cannot break character, otherwise he dies, otherwise Gotham City will eat him alive, otherwise he has done it all for nothing. That is the ultimate threat Sofia posed to him, and why his ultimate victory comes only from creating a perfect delusion and spinning everything that happened in service of it. Because all those things said at Monroe's? They weren't true - his Ma, y'know, it was just her disease acting up, that psycho did something to her, she wasn't thinkin straight, and it was really Sofia that stabbed him and did all that fucked up shit, and his Ma is really happy that she got the penthouse in the end and that he didn't put her down, look, she's crying tears of joy even, I gotta keep doing everything for her.

Everything and everyone in his life, he can spin in service of the delusion, they can all play dress-up with him forever, except Victor. Victor may not have the slightest clue as to what Oz actually did, but he's seen too much, he knows he has vulnerabilities, he knows the thing that Oz needs to bury far, far more than all the horrible things he's done. Killing Victor is maybe the one thing that he absolutely cannot in the slightest spin a decent delusion out of, that he did it for him or did it for noble reasons or anything other than out of disgusting self-serving weakness.

But who's Victor? Some kid who died in the projects and didn't even have a name? Someone with nobody left to mourn him, not even a street to get back to, nothing but a guy who's already forgot him?

That Victor Aguilar? Never heard of him

“I will never think my mother doesn't love me. She was having a bad day when she stuck that bottle in me. She was under a lot of pressure. She nearly lost her finger. She stuck a bottle in my belly. It was a bad day. She didn't get a good night's sleep the night before.” It's that kind of thing. He'll make up fucking whatever. He's already lying when he goes, and he's stitching up his belly, and Vic says, “What happened?” And he says, “Sofia, she stuck me with a bottle.” He's already beginning to bury the truth. - Colin Farrell

He needed your love, and then you didn't give it to him, and you didn't obey, and you didn't do those things that he needed, and then you mentally aren't there for him in the way that he needs, but he's got to physically keep you around because he's too weak to not do that. He can't give you the gift that he promised you in Episode Six, he's too weak of a man to do that. And so he needs to hold onto you, but under his terms. - Lauren LeFranc

There's a thing that happened on that last day that made my blood run cold, which was I felt Oz not love me anymore. I felt his coldness, and I think that Francis felt it too, and she always had so much of his attention and so much of his love. I don't even think she realized how much she had until he withdrew it. And when he withdrew it, it was utter and… slightly terrified. I was just lying in that bed, I just felt the love leave the room. It's a real thing, and it's gone, yeah, and I think Francis feels it, too. - Deirdre O'Connell

He's this man who is clawing his way to the top, and I knew he wanted power, but what what does that mean for him? That's where I started to conceive of like, he wants his mother's love, and he wants people's affection. He wants to be revered. That was like the main thrust for me of what defines power for Oz, and then by the end you realize that, when he doesn't get those things, he doesn't get his mother's acceptance, he still gets it. He makes sure he gets it. - Lauren LeFranc

So bowled over and miserable I was that I didn't even notice until later that he was wearing a version of the classic Bronze Age/Triumphant get-up.

If the pattern of his life is unjustifiably cruel retribution for slights and insults, perceived or not, by the end Francis had done it to him as well. That she never loved him and in fact always hated him more than anything and anyone else is the biggest insult of all, and so he punishes her the most cruelly, knowingly or not.

"You are who you are, and you couldn't change if you tried."

He will never stop telling Rex Calabrese stories, he will never stop bringing up his brothers and mom as a sympathy ploy, and even if he will never truly love her again, he will never stop ruining the world in her name, he will never stop, he will never stop, he will never stop.

You had to sit through 8 hours chipping away at all of his fun and charm and wacko comedy antics and motivations and all the scruples and principles that he turns out to have less and less of, until he butchers them all in the very end along with the heart of the show. Penguin burning through all of his lovable quirks and charm, everything that we loved about him in the movie, until he comes through as a black-hearted bastard of unlimited malice who will never stop growing and getting worse and putting more lives in danger. Not only as much of a lowlife backstabber as we initially assumed him to be in the movie, but far worse than what we could have imagined.

I said as much that the first episode marks the transition from The Batman to The Penguin with the titlecard, and this brings it back around. The show dies with Victor, we get Sofia's post-credits Nick Fury Tease with Selina's letter and with Selina's theme playing and a final grace note of hope for Sofia, and thus the only character in the show to end with anything resembling positive, and then we get the first scene of The Batman Part 2. showing us the horrible thing in this world that Batman will have to defeat for us.

RIP Bella Real, we all know this asshole is gonna become mayor, and he's not waiting for the next election.

Credit to @book--wyrm for pointing out one more horrible fucking thing, that at the final dance, his hands are covered in scratches, much like the hands of Carmine Falcone when he comforted Sofia.

“One of the very early things that Lauren pitched was that ending with Eve where she looks like Francis,” said Reeves. “He can’t get what he needed from his mother because she’s no longer in that state because of the dark events and what he’s done, so he recreates it in this other way with Eve, and it’s very disturbing,” said Reeves. “That was something we thought was a great idea and was so emblematic of this guy’s internal state. It’s like, even as he now seems to have gotten that first major step toward being the kingpin, you know that some part of him will never be filled. - Matt Reeves

When I read that, I was like, “Oh my god, we're going full Bates Motel here.” But again, it speaks to what has become a pathological inability to accept the world that he has played such a heavy hand in creating. As far as he's concerned, he's just doing what he needs to do to live the life of a good son. And look, his mother can't talk anymore, so he needs a surrogate. I mean, it would be kept out of the sexual realm — it wasn't about that. It was about the intimacy and the tenderness and the pride that Oz always so deeply needed to feel his mother had for him, and pride in him, that he never really got from her. The one time when he finally can say to her, can go to her bedside and say, “It's done. Everything you said that I was capable of, everything you said that I should aspire to, it's done. I am now the boss. I took it from everyone else.” And he gets nothing back. His mother's already gone. That's just too horrific for him, so he needs a surrogate. He would say to Eve, “Look, I'm grieving. I'm finding it hard to deal with the fact that my mother's alive, but she's not here. She's gone, but she's fully present at the same time, physically, but she's nowhere there. She doesn't recognize me. I don't recognize the woman she's become. Do me a favor. We used to dance together and talk at the end of the night. Would you put on her dress and just let me pretend?” But it was twisted. It was twisted, but I dug it. He needs it from his mom so much. And again, his imagination is so potent that he just cast her as that figure, that most prominent and most powerful figurehead in his life, which has always been his mother. She's got to stay alive. He's got to hear that he did well from her. He's got to hear that she's proud. Look, by the end, he's bananas, as they say in the film. Good cop, batshit cop. At the end, he's batshit. - Colin Farrell

Remember when this show had fun Dolly Parton end credits, remember when this almost looked like it was gonna be fun and light-hearted compared to the movie and The Riddler: Year One

So turns out all along they actually had something real twisted planned with the name Karlo, and the Clayface concept that evokes. Asking his prostitute girlfriend to shapeshift into his crying comatose mom in the room upstairs so he can finally get the dance with her atop the world that he craved his entire life and have her tell him how proud she is that he ruined everything forever.

It is not a good ending, but it is his happy ending. He achieved everything he wanted in the smallest possible amount and at the highest cost imaginable, and thus he burns more than ever to take more and more in the name of a satisfaction he will never, ever have. He ended his arch-nemesis, and he didn't have to kill her, that's not what a gentleman does. He got the streets, and he's poised to take political power, and there is nobody left to care about, nobody except the only person who's ever mattered. He can still keep taking care of Ma as a justification for all the shit he will do now and forever, but he doesn't actually have to take care of her anymore, he doesn't even have to love her or grovel her for validation anymore: He has a Ma who will tell him everything he wants to hear, forever.

Of course, he may not have his three dance partners anymore - his Ma is in a vegetative state, Sofia has been locked away once again, and that kid, what was his name again, ain't around. But then, he will simply move on to new ones: He didn't actually lose his first dance partner, his Ma is fine, look at her telling him how proud she is of him and everything he's done and how unstoppable he is now. And he has a new partner in City Hall who is all too eager to play along to everything he says and does, who will receive and spit back his rhetoric just as Vic did to the streets of Gotham. And if he's defeated his nemesis and dance partner, well, not for long. There's a new one waiting for him. He never wins without losing. He will never again live without his next dance partner there to hound and foil him at every turn. There will always be something in the way.

It was exciting to me, the idea that we’re going to meet Oz as a mobster, and to play him as just a man. There’s nothing fantastical about him. There’s so many people like Oz in our world who hold a lot of power, who also connect with people because they speak, on some level, the truth. They can be charming and engaging, but also really terrifying and calculated, and not necessarily doing what they say that they will do or caring for people in the way that they say that they will. It felt so timely and so important to really engage with a guy like Oz and not turn away from him, but actually turn towards him so we can start to unpack, in our own society, what makes a man like Oz so appealing, and what makes him equally appalling. - Lauren LeFranc

I think Oz has always been someone who believes that everything he’s saying in the moment is true, and he creates worlds and illusions for himself to merit his actions. He does it sometimes very briefly in impulsive moments, and then sometimes more methodically, and in the end the fact that he didn’t get from his mother what he’s always desired isn’t good enough for him. So he has to create this strange fantasy live in this delusion of his own making, and pay Eve to dress as his mother and force her to tell him he she’s proud of him. So mentally, emotionally, Oz is embracing his own delusion. I think, for the audience, I hope they more deeply understand him psychologically and realize that there is a deeply broken man inside. He is violent and problematic and and very emotional. And that’s really the man that will carry into the next film. - Lauren LeFranc

And it has to end in a total reversal of the movie ending - The Batman ends with showing there is a light in the darkness, that this tortured broken man can fix his mistakes and lead us into something better. The Penguin ends by grabbing your face and desperately yelling at you SOMEBODY FUCKING SAVE US, HE WILL ONLY GET WORSE. The Batman ends with telling us Batman can save us all, and The Penguin ends with telling us Penguin will kill every last one of us in real life if he hasn't already, if nobody stops him.

And so I'll leave these last partings words to the Penguin Braintrust as we close off this series - see you all in therapy and in theaters when The Batman: Part 2 drives us all completely insane once more.

@wil4x

I don't think this Penguin is someone Batman can tolerate, I don't think Bruce can ever save Gotham's soul with a force of corruption as big as Penguin taking root in the seats of power. No amount of informant work can justify letting a monster like Penguin stay "King of Gotham". I think there's an argument to be made that Oz is a bigger threat to Batman's overall long-term mission than guys like Joker or Riddler. Those are huge immediate threats, but Penguin does a lot more long-term damage to the very soul of Gotham and its people. As long as The Penguin is on top, there's no hope, Gotham will never not be the most corrupt and nightmarish place on earth with him in charge

@book--wyrm

He will truly climb anything no loss so great it can't be flipped into an asseet A nuke Francis armed out of pain and grief and desperation and despair And poor vic Only wanting to do good And instead he saves gotham’s own typhoid mary of misery

@davidmann95

so the thing is Oz kills hope for Gotham forever in this

he's replacing the mayor who stands for hope at the end of The Batman with a corrupt comics rando built on a lie so he can install himself as the power behind the power forever Batman can't be alluded to in the slightest until the very end because it can't be until there's no lingering 'aw, I don't want my boy to get Batman'ed' it can't be until we understand truly and completely why this man proves the necessity of someone out there to stop him

The other stabs at this with Oswald, from what I’ve seen, are trying to make him low-down and dirty and vile enough to be a ‘proper’ Batman villain. But this already made him low-down and dirty and vile. And made us love him for it. This isn’t about ‘fixing him’, this is about taking him all the way to the top He’d accept no less

This is about making him operatically nightmarish enough to be a guy Batman is going to fight forever

Lucas

VENGEANCE, GET OUT RIGHT FUCKING NOW.

#dc comics #the penguin #the penguin hbo #hbo max #max #oswald cobb #oswald cobblepot #sofia falcone #sofia gigante #victor aguilar #francis cobb #colin farrell #cristin milioti #rhenzy feliz #deirdre o'connell #matt reeves #lauren lefranc

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violet-sumire · 20 days ago

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Fuyumi has a fire quirk AU

Endeavor doesn't specifically include her in Touya's training, but once she gets her quirk, she starts coming along. At first he's confused: she's joining in the training of her own accord, but seems to slack off a lot- why? But Rei informs him she just wants to do what her big brother is doing.

Her quirk, by the way, isn't as strong as Touya's and seems to be a near 1-to-1 copy of Enji's own. After he gives up on Touya, he briefly considers going all-in on her, but she doesn't have the right temperament. Also, if he couldn't surpass All Might, then how could someone on the same power level as him do what he couldn't?

The plot then proceeds similarly to canon, but Touya and Fuyumi get along a little better since there's more to bond over. She's devastated when he burns up.

Soon afterwards, 13-year-old Fuyumi starts considering maybe pursuing Touya's dream for him. She's got a strong fire quirk, after all, that she knows has some serious potential even if she hasn't put a lot of work into it recently. She decides she'll become a pro hero and get into the top 10 on the hero ranking.

So for the next couple of years, she trains up her quirk. Her middle school is very well-funded so there's a whole quirk gym she can use.

(While training, she actually feels hot for the first time in her life after overheating. She's not a fan.)

Unlike Touya, she's not as interested in learning her father's moves wholesale. One of the first things she teaches herself to do is use her quirk to fly (she's very grateful her school has some soft mats; there was a lot of trial and error). She also shapes her fire into forms more often and uses it to cut, similar to Hell Spider. Big blasts like Flashfire Fist she's less interested in.

She doesn't actually tell her father she's training, finding it kind of awkward to talk to him about. The only one she mentions it to is Natsuo, who doesn't get her decision but knows it's to honor Touya so he doesn't tell her he thinks it's stupid.

She eventually gets into UA, and quickly ends up near the top of her class (not that she's really aiming for the top, it just happens).

However, she fumbles her first sports festival and doesn't get much attention.

Her second year is where she starts to hit her stride, getting really good at shaping and condensing her flames. Back in middle school, she'd once or twice accidentally made blue flames and eventually figured out how to replicate it, but they were annoying to maintain so she hadn't done anything with it. However, now once she has more power and control, she starts using it in battles. It's not an 'always on' thing for her; it still does require focus and accelerates her overheating.

She eventually graduates, joins an agency, then quickly starts her own. Her peers are amazed at her incredibly rapid ascent.

(She actually thinks she's going slow- she's judging her progress by Endeavor, who was number 2 by age 20. This is intentional on her part- she wants to have some time for family, after all.)

Around the time canon gets into gear, when Shouto starts UA, she's number 11 on the charts. Not as fast as her father or that other newcomer, Hawks, but still incredible.

(Also, the color scheme on Fuyumi's costume is orange, white, and pink. She wanted a warm fiery theme but also wanted to incorporate colors she likes, leading to that. She's never seen the lesbian flag before and doesn't know why she suddenly exploded in popularity overseas among certain types of women.)

Amazingly, Endeavor still doesn't know his daughter is a hero. He never paid attention to her high school uniform, he doesn't watch the Sports Festival (usually his sidekicks do that and he trusts them to find people to send offers to- they sent one to Fuyumi but she rejected it), and he doesn't pay attention to other heroes not in the top 10. Once, when he was asked by a curious journalist if [whatever Fuyumi's hero name is here] is his daughter, he says he's never heard of that hero and denies it.

However, it's projected that come the next Hero Billboard Chart JP, set to be in May soon after the UA Sports Festival, Fuyumi will break into the top 10. Which means she and Endeavor will be, for the first time ever, in the same room together in costume...

#todoroki fuyumi #my aus #endeavor #todoroki touya #dabi #todoroki natsuo #bnha au #mha au #bnha #mha

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syndrossi · 4 months ago

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Can we get a caraxes and vhagar POV of them meeting the lil babies in regnal au pretty pretty pleaseeee🥺🥺🥺 I can just imagine them crooning and gushing over how cute they are and how they're not fully hatched yet ksksksk and them bragging to other dragons about how amazing their dragon riders' hatchlings/grandhatchling are 🤩🤩

When the actual hatchlings come along are they gonna imprint on vhagar like they did caraxes and think that's their mother?

In regnal au what's the craziest thing teen dad!daemon does with the twins that gives rhea almost a heart attack compared to older, more mature father daemon in reverberate au?

I feel like Caraxes will be puzzled at how round and egg-shaped Daemon's hatchlings are, while Vhagar rolls her eyes, all "of COURSE have you not seen a fleshling before?" And then Caraxes grumbles that not everyone is 150 years old. Also if the little one is called Aemon, why is he being taken on VHAGAR for a ride, ahem? He has dibs on all the Aemons. Wait, and she gets the BAELON too? Unfair!

For the hatchlings, it'll probably depend on where Vhagar is and how often she's around relative to Caraxes. I could see Vhagar being the ultimate grump about still more hatchlings and she agrees with Caraxes, they smell wrong. Like the sickness that took Balerion. She settles into a reluctant grandma role, with a suspicious eye on them, and it's Caraxes who ends up defending their oddness to her. So, ultimately I guess they don't view her as a mother? But some kind of relation at least, despite her protests.

Oh goodness, Daemon shenanigans. I think for the first six months, he's incredibly careful with them, since they were born so small and that imprinted itself in his mind: that they're fragile, and he has to be careful. But as soon as they start getting active and crawling/rolling and they've got all that baby fat on their cheeks, Daemon finally feels secure enough to do things with them. Riding is the first heart-stopping activity (from Rhea's perspective), but Baelon beats him to it, so it's not even Daemon being reckless there. And he's definitely a baby-tosser, as he demonstrated with Rhaenyra.

I could see him thinking it's totally fine to give Jon his first knife at an absurd age, like, four. And Rhea has to confiscate it, reminding Daemon that he's a CHILD and he could accidentally cut himself or his brother!

Daemon's also close enough to his Flea Bottom days that he thinks it's perfectly safe to take two baby princes through the more dangerous parts of the city without a single household knight, because he has Dark Sister, they're fine. Baelon and Jaehaerys are both aghast at that one.

Ultimately, I'm guessing it's something fire-related that showcases their fireproofness while Rhea is all THAT DOES NOT EXCUSE YOUR CARELESSNESS YOU CANNOT ASSUME TODDLERS DO NOT BURN WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

#resonant asks #resonant 'verse regnal au

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thevalleyisjolly · 1 year ago

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As an intrinsic part of their Mortal heritage, I like to think that all the Half-Elven in Middle-earth have at one point in their lives (but most especially their youths) had a fairly unflattering haircut that they genuinely believed was the hottest shit ever:

Dior had a long feathered mullet that was a pure flex to show off how naturally full and voluminous his hair was. He only cut it once the twins were born and it became too much work to maintain while looking after two babies.

Elúred and Elúrin got their hands on an unattended bottle of hair dye when they were five and gave themselves skunk hair bangs that took months to wash out.

Elwing once experimented with teasing her curls into a big 80's hairdo because people told her how her father used to have big hair.

Eärendil had to cut his hair after a lice scare onboard one of Círdan's ships and went for a bowl cut that he thought would be quick and easy to do. Unfortunately, the bowl he used was a little too small and the high fringe made it look like he was wearing a small hat made out of hair. Idril had conniptions. Tuor managed to hold in his laughter until he could reach the privacy of an inner room. Elwing demonstrated the incredible power of love by both saying yes to his proposal and offering to neaten his fringe so that it at least looked a little less choppy.

Elrond stubbornly sported a man bun undercut for two whole years after he lost a bet with one of Maedhros' Mortal retainers and Maglor made a sighing comment about how he shouldn't worry because his hair would soon grow back out "nice again."

Elros gave himself curtained hair in solidarity with Elrond so that Maglor would get off his back, and kept it until the first time he commanded a war party and got good-naturedly ribbed to hell about looking like a 14 year old kid.

Like father like son, Elladan wore a rat tail for a few years after one of the Dunédain wagered he couldn't pull it off. He really couldn't, although he thought it looked great and was forever trying to do fancy styles with it until Elrohir staged a sibling intervention.

Elrohir maintained a buzzcut for nearly fifty years after his parents a little too amusedly said that he could do whatever he liked with his appearance now that he was of age.

Arwen went through a phase in her 200s where she dyed her hair with whatever colours she could get her hands on. The silver was very nice (Celeborn was extremely proud) and the blue highlights were interesting but still managed to work. She even made a decent ginger. However, the attempt at Arafinwëan gold just ended up a washed-out bleach blonde that is to date the only thing that has ever stunned Galadriel into utter speechlessness.

+Although not born Mortal, Lúthien spent a full Valinorean year with feathers instead of hair while trying to shape-shift into a nightingale. It actually made for quite an aesthetic when she took the time to preen them properly, but as she was far too busy running around having adventures with Daeron, the effect was more often ruffled bird's nest than sleek wings.

#lotr #silmarillion #dior eluchil #elúred #elúrin #elwing #eärendil #elrond #elros #elladan #elrohir #arwen #peredhil headcanons

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catsharky · 1 year ago

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It looks like her horns are much bugger and more devil like than tiefling naturally. Would her horns grow back to that shape if sue let them, or is it more like docking a tail and permanent? Would she become more comfortable with her original horns being around tieflings more if they could grow back? Why did she trim them initially?

Ehehe I'm glad you caught that, cause yeah you're right her horns are very much meant to be more devil than tiefling!

I figured if a devil is going to screw someone over by giving them a stolen child, why wouldn't they aim to pick one who would bring as much chaos and misery to that person as possible? Ember has no idea who her bio parents are, but she's definitely no ordinary Tiefling.

I put the rest under a read more because it got a bit long:

To try and kind of match the other companions, I wanted her to have the capacity to be incredibly powerful, but limited for game/story reasons. So for Ember, at least one of her parents is someone Powerful and Important in the hells, and that parent is where her sorcery comes from.

It means she's capable of crazy strong magic (like, on par with Gale before he got nerfed strong) but a combination of being self-taught and a lack of motivation means that she's never had a reason to find out what she's actually capable of. She also grew up very isolated, so until she met Gale she was under the impression that magic was just like that for everyone. And tied to all that, one of the most obvious tells that there's something else going on with her is her horns.

I like to think that for most Tieflings, their horns do grow throughout their lives, but hit what's considered 'full sized' by around puberty- at which point the growth slows to a crawl. I also have to assume based on Karlach's broken horn that if the horn breaks? It's gone for good, though they will still maintain that slow growth so long as the core at the base of the horn remains intact.

For Ember however, her horns are just enormous. At age 4 it's expected a Tiefling will have started growing their horns but that they'll still be blunt, nubby things like a baby goat. Ember's were the size they are in the age chart, and continued to grow even larger as she got older.

She likely would have trimmed them no matter what, because not being used to having horns in the first place made dealing with them frustrating, but they're really just unreasonably huge. She trims them down pretty much as far as she comfortably can, the blue tips being where the darker outer layers were cut away.

To her annoyance, they also grow back and do so remarkably fast, which is where the jewelry she has wrapped around them comes from. Those gold embellishments are actually enchanted so they'll stay the size she wants them! (They also keep them from catching on fire when her emotions are high, but that's a whole other thing) So she could actually let them grow back to their full size if she wanted to, she just doesn't because they'd be way too unwieldy and annoying to deal with.

And while I can see some of this stuff becoming relevant after the events of the game, for the duration of BG3's plot this is all just more or less flavour text. The magic stuff is the only part that would have a notable impact.

Also fun fact, this whole part of her backstory is just because I needed an excuse to make her immortal. I didn't have the strength to give Astarion a companion who he'd have to lose in less than 100 years. My heart can't take that 😭 So fuck it, she's the daughter of some big powerful demon or whatever so Astarion can have one nice thing that won't be taken from him!!!

#agent-jaselin #I do have one fun idea about Karlach having to clarify what is and is not Just Normal Tiefling Things™#but we'll see if I ever get around to it #sharky speaks #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #my tav #sharky's tav #tav: ember #oc: ember #Ember lore drop #not sharky art

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katelynnwrites · 1 year ago

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All’s Well That Ends Well (To End Up With You) | Felicitas Rauch

warnings: a tiny bit of angst but it’s mostly fluff

word count: 2145

summary: your national teammates have a conversation about starting families and it prompts a conversation between you and feli

a/n: let me know what you think of this please? i got this idea from the born for this documentary and it’s been buzzing around my head for a while because i was kind of hesitant if i should write it…if it’s good i might write a bit more about feli and kids :)

You’re certain that this is the team that will go far in the Euros. Hell, the mood in camp is one so perfect that you are filled with the conviction that you might just win the whole damn thing. It is what every single member of your team is working towards.

The tournament might still be eight months away but things are just shaping up so well.

These people you’re with, they are more than just teammates. They’re good friends.

Good friends that you are happy to celebrate an early Christmas with.

The national team staff and some of your teammates have been kind enough to help set up a small Christmas get together, with food and drinks.

It might be the midst of international break and you might be only two metres away from the hotel entrance but it makes all the difference.

Everyone needs to get their minds off football and relax sometimes, especially when the last game of the year is just around the corner.

Curled into Feli’s side, you giggle at the story Sara is telling. You can feel Felicitas’ body vibrate with laughter and you press yourself closer to her.

Your wife easily slips her arm around your waist in response.

She drops an affectionate kiss onto the top of your head even as she continues listening to her fellow defender.

The smile on your face grows as the rest of your teammates pitch in, the alcohol helping everyone to loosen up.

Feli’s fingers gently running over your side and the pleasant buzz of the mulled wine distract you for a few minutes and when you focus back on the conversation, it’s to Kathy saying that it would be nice if men could get pregnant too.

A round of laughter rings out immediately and you grin at the very thought. It would certainly be helpful for some of your teammates, both national and club alike.

Lina jokes that she would get her boyfriend pregnant right away if she could and everyone chuckles a little harder.

When that dies down though, there is a moment of sobering silence.

‘You’d actually like to have kids though…right?’

Marina directs the question at anyone and everyone, her tone being an indicator of just how difficult this particular subject is. It’s unusual for the typically smiley woman to be so serious.

Both Kathy and Lina nod, Laura following after a moment.

A few of the youngest players like Jule and Obi simply shrug. That’s fair you think, because it’s not something that would be on the forefront of their mind at that age.

But for you, being a few years older, it has.

So you nod too and can’t help but slip your hand into your wife’s when she does the same, a tad shyly.

You’ve talked about it before you even started dating, wanting to be on the same page before starting a relationship that might turn out to be lasting.

You are incredibly happy that it did and are so thankful for having that conversation with Feli.

Being a mom has always been something you want and marrying someone who wants the same thing as you was always important.

It never occured to you while you were growing up that that person would come into your life, in the form of Felicitas Rauch.

Two months into calling her your girlfriend and you knew that she would be the only one you would ever want to start a family with.

It assures you the feeling must be mutual when the brunette squeezes your hand lightly, glancing at you adoringly.

‘I feel ready to start a family now but I guess with football, I will have to wait a couple more years.’ Kathy sighs.

You make a sympathetic noise and your fellow Wolfsburg player looks up.

‘I’m guessing that you can relate. I see how you are with the younger fans. Do you want a girl or a boy?’ She asks softly.

Shrugging, you murmur, ‘I don’t mind either. I just want them to be healthy, you know?’

Kathy gives you a tiny smile and nods her understanding.

Your heart warms just thinking about it and the hopeful smile you give the blonde in return makes you miss the one on Feli’s face dimming.

Felicitas keeps your hand in hers but doesn’t say much more for the rest of the night.

She does not meet the worried looks you give her and by the end of the little celebration, your anxiety is just about eating you whole.

You don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this uncertain with your wife.

As everyone makes their way back to their respective rooms, you trail after her to the room you’re sharing.

‘Liebling?’ You softly prompt and the brunette defender frowns as she shuts the door.

‘What’s wrong?’

Felicitas stiffens and she sits down on her bed, drawing her knees up to her chest.

Her brown eyes are full of emotion when she quietly asks, ‘You want a baby now?’

‘Well not now now but maybe after the Euros…’ You admit.

Your wife’s eyes widen and you reach for her hand hurriedly, saying, ‘Don’t you? We’ve been married for a few years and I think we’re in a good enough place in our careers.’

Feli shakes her head, stammering, ‘I-I love you but I’m not ready.’

As hard as you try to hide it, you can’t stop the hurt that flashes across your face from showing.

‘Liebling, I’m sorry.’ Feli pleads, squeezing your hand tightly and touching your wedding ring.

‘Don’t be. You aren’t at fault for the way you feel. I-I just thought you wanted to have children as badly as I do.’ You whisper, covering her hand with yours.

This, if possible, makes your wife feel even worse.

There are tears slipping down her face as she takes a deep breath, trying to explain herself.

‘I do. Believe me I do. That’s not what I’m not ready for. Liebling I want to have a baby with you, I’m ready to start a family with you. It’s been on my mind for a long time but what I’m not ready for is putting football on hold.’

‘Felicitas…’ You breathe.

‘I love you. I love you so incredibly much and I’ve dreamed of having a family with you but I can’t do it now. I’m twenty six and I know that’s not old but I’m terrified of not being able to get back my current form after I give birth.’

‘Feli I love you too but I don’t understand.’ You murmur.

Your wife makes a frustrated noise, ‘Don’t you see how hard Almuth is struggling? I know that I’m not as old as she was when she got pregnant but I don’t think I can go through it liebling.’

‘I know and I admire her for it but Feli…I’m not asking you to put yourself through that.’

The fullback simply stares at you with clear confusion.

There’s a smile on your face as you tease, ‘You know liebling, the good thing about being in a lesbian relationship is that both of us can get pregnant.’

‘What?’

‘I’m younger than you Feli. I’ll recover faster, and be able to get my fitness back faster.’

‘Y-You want to be the one to carry our baby?’

Your wife’s tone is one of complete disbelief.

‘Yes.’ You answer simply.

‘But why? You’re our star striker for club and country. You are at the top of your game liebling. Hell Barcelona wants you and while I know you turned them down, chances like that aren’t given to just anybody. As a player, you are far more valued than I am. For you to put your career on hold…’ Feli’s voice gets gradually quieter before it tails off.

The Wolfsburg defender swallows hard, her gaze never leaving yours.

It is barely audible when she mumbles, ‘If you get pregnant after the Euros, you might not be able to come back in time for the World Cup.’

‘Felicitas, my love, don’t you know that I will give up anything if it means being able to be a mother with you? Winning a world cup is a dream but being able to have a family with you is the biggest dream.’

If the brunette wasn’t crying before, she certainly is now.

Her hands are gentle as she cradles your face to kiss you. She tastes like the salt of her tears but the action still takes your breath away.

‘Do you really mean that?’ Feli whispers against your lips.

You nod, leaning your forehead against your wife’s.

She presses one more kiss onto your mouth, murmuring, ‘Let’s do it. I want to have a baby with you liebling. As soon as possible.’

‘Okay…okay that sounds like a plan.’ You tearfully agree.

******

You’re pregnant a month after Germany finishes runners up in the Euros.

******

Feli was right. You are far from being able to make it back in time for the World Cup but you never expected yourself to be anyway.

That doesn’t mean that you aren’t there to support your wife, fellow national teammates and country though.

You are in the friends and family section, with your newborn dressed in the tiniest Rauch, 17, jersey.

Where your wife found noise cancelling headphones small enough to fit on his head, you’ll never know but he looks adorable.

He peers curiously at his surroundings during the first half, never once crying but rather being content to be held by you.

Felicitas blows you and him a kiss each as she makes her way back down the tunnel at halftime.

Her bun is messy and it is getting colder as the sun sets but her eyes are shining with adoration.

She mimes catching the kiss you blow her in return and you giggle.

‘Your mama’s so silly.’ You tell your son as you rock him gently.

The newborn sucks determinedly on his fist in response and you giggle.

He has Feli’s eyes and you don’t know how you will ever be able to tell him no when he grows up. You certainly are not able to tell your wife no when she looks at you with her pretty eyes.

******

Your country puts two more into Morocco’s goal before Felicitas is subbed out in the 89th minute.

You cheer louder than anybody when she leaves the pitch because you are always going to be her biggest fan.

The brunette catches sight of you just before she sits down at the bench, her cheeks flushing a bright pink at the look of pride on your face.

You chuckle at that, pressing a light kiss onto your baby’s forehead. He’s fallen asleep, the cool Australian night air giving his cheeks a rosy hue, nearly identical to his mother’s.

The match is nearly over now and Lea fires one more into the opposition’s net to make it a six-nil win before the full time whistle blows.

There’s a tangible joy in the stadium, from the fans and your team.

Everyone is celebrating but you only have eyes for your wife.

She’s making directly for you, climbing over the barriers and pulling you into an excited kiss.

‘I love you.’ Feli declares.

‘Love you too.’ You grin.

The fullback kisses you once more, her hands cradling your face eagerly.

‘How’s our son?’ She asks, bending down to lightly press her lips onto his forehead. He remains fast asleep, not even stirring when you transfer him into the Wolfsburg player’s arms.

Your wife coos softly, adjusting the blanket you wrapped him in, to protect his tiny body from the cold.

Felicitas is entirely enamoured with him, just as she has been since she saw him on the initial ultrasound.

You always knew she would be down bad but when your son gripped Feli’s finger tight the moment she first held him, well she exceeded all your expectations.

The brunette holds him close, breathing in his baby smell before looking up hesitantly.

‘C-Can I take him down to the pitch? I know we talked about keeping him off social media but I want to share this moment with him.’

You don’t even have to think twice about your answer.

‘Felicitas of course you can. I might have carried him but he’s your son too.’

Your wife can’t resist kissing you once more before she leads you back down onto the pitch with her, despite your protests.

‘Liebling this is your special moment, your World Cup debut.’

‘Yes and I want to share it with my family.’ She matter of factly states.

There’s no arguing with her and so it is with a smile on your face that you let her slip her hand into yours.

Being there with Feli, as she holds the baby you had together against her chest…it’s everything you have ever dreamed of.

German Translation:

liebling - love

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wyfy-meltdown · 9 months ago

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I did it again!!! Meet my second PMMM OC: Shinoha Murofushi!

More info below the cut *⁠.⁠✧

Basic Info:

Name: Shinoha Murofushi

Age: 16

Height: 5'6

Wish: "'My ultimate dream could come true'... If that's really the case then, I want to get revenge on those bastards!"

Weapon: Dual Swords

Power: The ability to release attacks used against her back at an enemy*

Soul Gem: Bellflower (*also somewhat looks like a skull) located below the chest, with scales on the bottom of the soul gem

Witch: Nemesis

*She can only absorb attacks that have hit her, and will take damage from anything that hits her. She can store damage for as long as she wants, but when she releases it, every attack she's stores gets released at once. However the attack affected her is how it will affect the target she releases on: Ex. Someone punches her causing a bloody nose, Shinoha releases her damage, and the puncher gains a bloody nose and the pain that caused the bloody nose. Ex2. Someone breaks her arm with a baseball bat, Shinoha releases her damage, and the batter gains a broken arm and the pain of a baseball bat to the arm.

Personality:

She's incredibly standoffish and tries her best to be alone at all times. She rarely leaves her room, and hates going to school. She's quick to judge and mistrust others, and it's incredibly hard for her to lower her guard. She's learned to cut her own hair (due to avoiding leaving the house) and while she has exceptional talent doing so, she has no interest in being a hairdresser. She rarely sleeps, and is always tired. She maintains a perfect poker face, but struggles with violent thoughts and self-loathing: becoming a magical girl has given her an outlet for her struggles, although she gets very brutal in fights. Her favorite food is seafood, and she can't stand the taste of sweet things. Despite her dark thoughts, she's very meek, and seldom voices her opinions and feelings. If she's got a problem with someone, they likely don't know until it's too late. Her downbeat nature means she doesn't have many hobbies; she spends most of her time on her phone, and is a closet idol fanatic.

Design Breakdown:

This design was a challenge and a pain. I struggled A LOT to incorporate her "revenge" wish and find a good theming for it, but all I could really work with was "greek goddess Nemesis" (justice/law/punishment theme). I managed to fit in some wing-like shapes (skirt, swords) but I don't know if it's obvious enough(?) Her hair-circle is meant to look like a halo (angel of punishment theme) but I'm not sure if it just looks like a random circle or an actual halo. I included bellflower motifs because... I have no real reason; nice concept, but I can't draw bellflowers well. Her colour palette was the most difficult part (theming second) because no colours fit her??? I don't know how to describe it, but no colours worked right with her personality (not even black or white). I settled on green with grey hair, but it'll probably change if I ever draw her again. I fear her design is a little to "fantasy" not enough "magical girl" (but that might just be my "ruffles/pink" brainrot). I tried really hard to give her a should cloak, then a caplet, and finally I gave up and just went with the sleeves.

Overall: she was a struggle, and I don't think I got across my theming and motifs well. I might try to redesign her in the future, but for now I'm content with this: I think it's good for my current skill level and her current concept.

Trivia:

She didn't believe in magical girls at all, but after much pestering convincing from Komoe, she unseriously made a wish before becoming a magical girl

Her damage absorbing ability causes her to intentionally endanger herself in fights against witches (possible concept)

Originally her plan was to kill her bullies, but she instead opted to use her power to curse them

She would've liked to be the brooding loner type of magical girl, but Komoe had other plans

She has a mini fridge in her room and it's her favorite thing in the world

It's always dark in her room, so she can see well in the dark (potential plot point later[?])

She's a big fan of spy, action, and mystery movies; and has some form of online review blog

She has a mannequin in her room she vents her frustrations and feelings to (she strongly dislikes showing emotions in public and/or around others)

As much as she's tried to fight it, Komoe often comes to her house with groceries, grief seeds, gifts, and other things to give to Shinoha

Although she was initially very unhappy about becoming a magical girl (she kinda became a magical girl on accident), she's slowly learning to embrace her magical girl persona (and becoming more deranged in the process!)

She named her magical girl swords after her two favorite idols, and has begun a personal sword collection (a goal Komoe helped her set was to eventually forge a sword herself)

She once drank a small bottle of vanilla extract without batting an eye (it was dark, she was tired and didn't feel like reading)

She punts around Inkyuu like a ball

#puella magi madoka magica #mahou shoujo madoka magica #madoka magica #pmmm #magical girl #oc #oc art #wyfy's picturebook #pmmm oc #magical girl oc

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hazelkjt · 7 months ago

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Hazel Kha || SMASH or PASS

Rules: pretty self explanatory. include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. the “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc).

Tagged by: @this-is-ris Once again I am late to the party so I'm pretty sure 99% of my mutuals are already tagged...but just to be safe! Tagging: @nolanel-corbeaux, @the-white-snake, @sae-mian, @hinganskies, and @cindernet-explorer

Quick Facts:

Height: 6'4" (193cm)

Age: 24 as of the start of Dawntrail

Gender: CIS Woman

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pros:

Very openly loyal and affectionate

Highly active and energetic, but still appreciates the quiet moments

LOVES the outdoors, especially the ocean. Any kind of outside activity she will be down for, but specifically hunting and swimming.

Very confident and proud, will do her absolute best to make sure you are happy and proud of yourself as well

Avid reader, enjoys both reading together and reading to you

Good cook, as long as you can handle spice and heat

Cons:

Little to no actual romantic experience and no confidence in being a good partner.

Tendency to jump to conclusions, which can lead to jealousy driven misunderstandings.

Snores INCREDIBLY LOUDLY.

Short temper and holds petty grudges for a long time.

Put her partner's well-being and happiness above everything about herself.

Bottles up all her worries and doubts, has trouble being open about her problems.

Sense of pride is paradoxically strong yet flimsy, specific hits to her ego can land very hard.

Misc. Details:

A morning person, gets up very early to practice and stay in shape. Will try to drag you into her workouts if you let her.

A very competitive person who enjoys all forms of competition.

Curious by nature and very in tune with her heritage. Will always be willing to share about the Kha tribe and will naturally want to know about who you are as well.

Very hygienic and cares a lot about her appearance. A bit of a fashionista who has a variety of outfits, she dyes the ends of her hair red to pay homage to the Kha tribe.

SEXUALLY very much a sub and extremely vanilla in terms of kinks. From her lack of relationship experience she isn't confident in taking the lead in any sort of sexual act. Even beyond that she wants to do whatever she can to please her partner, so they get to be the ones in charge. It takes a long time for her to open up to anything sexual however, even after being in a serious relationship for a while.

ROMANTICALLY Hazel is very affectionate and sort of clingy. She's not overly picky with certain activities or dates. As long as she's doing something with them she'll be happy. Beyond that, her love language is all over the place. Pet names/nicknames, PDA (specifically wrapping her tail around you), flirty compliments, gifts, just about everything is on the table.

#ffxiv #oc smash or pass #ffxiv gpose #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv oc #au ra #xaela #hazel kha

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soufcakmistress · 2 years ago

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Temptress

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick Black OC

The intricate oil painting hanging on the wall threatened to fall by the incessant pounding of the bed frame. “I wonder what they’re serving at the pub tonight…” Sybil Freeman pondered as this sad soul rutted away between her legs. The Viscount Peters was one of her frequent visitors, and always tipped well. A lackluster lover, but always super sweet. The viscount shuddered and finally expelled into the sheepskin condom, with sighs of much awaited relief. Her corset has her abundant breasts grazing her chin, which have now spilled out from the romp that just ensued.

This is the part that the men come for. “Ooooh, the Viscount is feeling very frisky this evening. I’ll be sure to put those juniper berries in your wine every time we meet, sugar.” The short and dumpy nobleman always moseyed down her street for a bit of loving. Black and white men alike patronized the house—a house of nothing but Black bawds and whores.

London is a long way from colonial Charleston. Sybil Ravenel was one of eleven children to an enslaved couple working the indigo crop on Edisto Island. Keen on her surroundings and fierce about her family, one particular overseer would always harass her. She was very shapely and purposely wore baggier clothes to conceal her body. She’d managed to make it this far without getting whipped or separated from her family. The overseer was tired of Sybil spurning him. Easter Day came and the slaves were able to take the day off for once. While everyone was congregated by the fire, Sybil was caught off guard and gagged and pulled around the tobacco barn. Little did that overseer know that Sybil had been preparing for that day.

She sharpened this stick every day and hid it in the waistline of her skirt. Today, she made good on her intentions and shoved the stick into his neck. “I the last Negro woman you try to push up on. Bastard.” Blood drenched her apron and bonnet, and she wrenched them off and hid them under her skirt. Scrambling to the slave quarters, she gathered up the few clothes she had, tied them up and ran towards the harbor with all of her might in the dead of night.

Sybil understood sex and how easy men were guiled once it entered a dynamic. Men had few motivations and if it didn’t involve money, food or sex, Sybil found they didn’t have much use past that. She wasn’t entirely sure of her age, but she was a woman full grown. She had no education but she had the will to live and extremely limited means to do so. Offering what she had between her legs was how she was able to convince the captain of a nearby merchant ship not to ring the alarm for a fugitive slave on the run. She sucked his pecker so good as a matter of fact, he gave her her own cabin, left to be undisturbed until the ship docked.

The manifest was set for London Harbor, with a large store of indigo posed for shipping to the British Isles. England outlawed slavery years ago and all Sybil can remember being in awe of how Black folks roamed so freely. London was expansive, a different feeling versus Charleston. Attempting to navigate the streets, she bumped into a striking woman, with incredible cheek bones and dwarfed almost every man. “Careful, darling. Yuh ‘ave to actually look where yuh walk in this city. Before yuh get trampled.”

Needless to say, her life was changed from then on out. Bellemere Almodovar. Born in Jamaica, she was purchased by Spanish spice traders in exchange for bushels of saffron. She was so beautiful that she was whisked away from the auction block to accompany a lord in the Spanish court in the Spanish royal seat in Madrid.

Bellemere took Sybil under her wing. Showed her the ropes, how to keep herself safe, how to articulate herself, and recognize what the means to the end was. Fuck the frogs until you find the prince. A marquis or a lord having you for his mistress meant security and stability. A binding contract between the two of you kept the relationship mutually beneficial at all times. You provide the cunny and ego stroking, he provides the lifestyle. It’s plain and simple as that.

Until then, Sybil would stack her money. Her and Bellemere have expanded their stable, with an extremely diverse group of Black women with various treasures to offer. Lola and Liza Ibeji, the Sierra Leonan twin Amazons liked to play with the kinky politicians on Downing street on every bank holiday who liked to be tied up and degraded. Sarah Macenroe was a biracial beauty from Ireland, looking for a new home since her last bawd kicked her out. She was a contortionist, and petite like a nymph who loved to stick her finger up a John’s bum. And Sybil’s best friend Janie Smith from Trinidad, always quick to cuss her in patois. She was plump and shaped like you and that brought you both closer. Janie learned that she did not have a gag reflex, allowing any man to aim his prick down her endless throat with no resistance.

And Sybil. Sybil’s prized possession was between her legs. It was wetter and tighter than anyone around, and was guaranteed to make any man lose his pride before he wanted to. Her blue fingertips were a marvel to gaze upon and added to the fantasy. These English nobles ached for the chance of sleeping with a liberated Negro woman from the colonies. Her life was easy now. Fuck her regulars, and live good. She was free. Free to eat in any cafe of her choosing. Led her girls into any social gathering with their heads high and guaranteed to garner whispers and gasps. Music to her ears.

As of late, Sybil had been bored to tears of the social scene. Janie had just snagged her keeper, and she’d been whisked to the northern countryside for the next month. On this particular occasion, Sybil’s carob skin emitted radiance unknown to this world with the midnight blue gown hugging her body close. Her scalp itched under the powdered wig, and she daintily threw back her 6th drink of the night. Her girls worked the room as always, prowling for the next kill, and yet Sybil couldn’t give a fuck about any of these men.

She grabbed her sachet, picked up the ends of her dress and sashayed to the terrace. Some fresh air was needed. A cigarette she already rolled was pulled out and heavy footsteps lurked behind her. “Is this seat taken?”

A puff of tobacco smoke billowed in front of her cherubic face. A pleasant surprise that a Black man with a familiar accent met her. “Do as you like.”

The strange man quietly observes Sybil’s appearance. Their eyes finally meet and she’s enraptured and forgets to mask her intent. He’s very handsome, with a sterling smile and dashing garments. And an American accent. Interesting. “What’s a southern Belle doing mingling with English society?”

“I could ask the same of you. You’re like a fly in a glass of milk with this crowd. American?”

The gentleman wore his own hair out, a beautiful tangle of curls, and an emerald green suit that was immaculately crafted. His scent was alluring, and made Sybil want to know how deep his pockets went. “Yes. I was formerly enslaved, just like you. My father was African however and fell in love with my mother on a trip to the colonies. He bought us and we went back to his country to live. I grew up and wanted to explore this world. So for the moment, here I am..”

He took her cigarette out of her hand and began to puff on it himself. “And how would you know that I was enslaved? I could have been born free for all you know.”

The gentleman blew out the tobacco smoke, and gently placed her hand in his. The indigo dye. Permanently marking her as a piece of chattel. A former piece of chattel, for that matter. He kissed every fingertip on her left hand, and Sybil gulped. Her eyes became glassy, and she pulled away. She adjusted her dress, and stabilized her towering wig. “I didn’t catch your name, miss.”

Sybil took the cigarette back from him, taking a harsh pull. Why did this man make her feel like this? “Sybil. Sybil Freeman.” She had to get out of there. As seemingly progressive as London purported itself to be, Black men were almost never gentlemen and of the ton. He exuded high levels of breeding and class. His skin was gorgeous and he had piercing eyes that never left her….and roamed all over her body. He was clearly different.

“Good evening, sir.” Sybil gave the stiffest curtsy and zoomed away, flustered and confused. Something told her that that wouldn’t be the last she saw of him..

A/N: I totally forgot that I had most of this written up already LMAO. Please let me know if you want me to continue this story. Pleaseeee reblog and comment, love yall!!!

TAGS:

@l-auteuse

@eclecticblkgirl

@thadelightfulone

@nickidub718

@theogbadbitch

@loveeeeandaffection

@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade

@amirra88

@sheabuttahwrites

@janelledarling

@raysunshine78

@stariamrry

@fd-writes

@dessianna1

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@thickemadame

@honeytoffee

@uzumaki-rebellion

@xo-goldengirl

@blackmissfrizzle

@killmonger-fics

@rbhp

@sheisexcellent1

@viewsfromthesips

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@spicynoodlezzz

@dashhoney25

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@naysianaee

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@blackburnbook

@cecereads209

@themeirajay

@just-peachee

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@richonne4life

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@abcdestinyyyy

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes

@elaindeereads

@brattyfics

@why-wait-4-eventually

@girlsneedlovingfanfics

@pipsqueak-98

@ladymac82

@ghostfacekill-monger

@id-rather-be-an-outsider

@merranerra

@kokokonako

@sourbabynaee

@4bambiray

#soufcakmistress #erik stevens #erik killmonger #erik killmonger smut #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #killmonger x black oc

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teatitty · 4 months ago

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Okay a bunch of bugbot Bumblebee thoughts I'm just gonna rattle them off as they come to me the coherency is not important: Bugbot Bumblebee who not only has emotive antenna and circuitry wings but also transforms into an actual beebot drone so he's zippin and flyin and zoomin everywhere, perfect little aerial scout who can get into so so so many tricky places and navigate many areas. He has so much energy he's constantly stimming in place - tappin his heel, swayin side to side, bobbin his head, flutterin wings etc

His beedrone form is the perfect size for being like the cybertron version of a lap pet. Very normal to see him in drone form just curled up sleepin in Optimus' lap or resting on Elita's head. His eyes are big almond shapes and when he's smiling or sleeping they never fully close so there's always this thin slit of blue light visible with them. If a mech is capable of hourglass figure that's him - most grabble waist you've ever goddamn seen and he's perfect cuddle size [like a plushie] so he gets pulled into hugs a lot. Wheeljack especially loves doin this

He's one of - if not the smallest mech among the autobots and his head barely reached Optimus' waist. Arcee insists he's on his tiptoes and Bumblebee denies it viciously. Bugbots are born in "hives" with a singular "hive mother" as their parent/maker. Bumblebee is the last surviving member of his hive. Jazz was the one who found him in the remnants of the hive, surrounded by hundreds of dead bugbots, curled up in the corpse of his hive mother. Because he was alone for so long he is massively touch starved and imprinted hard on Jazz, so a lot of his overly friendly and affectionate nature is from him [as well as his music taste]

For a long while, as someone who had lived isolated and alone for ages, Bumblebee often forgot to speak in regular cybertronian and would primarily communicate in more bugbot sounds - chitters, trills, beeps, clicks the whole works [think Mothra from Godzilla] and even now, if he gets really excited about somethin or is just extremely tired, he'll sometimes switch to that again mid conversation, a fact that he finds very embarrassing and is privately a massive insecurity of his

The autobots are like the first "family" he's ever had. His memories of his hivemates and hive mother are more like distant static - the only clear memory he has is being given the directive to "live and survive" so his bugbot instincts very much label the autobots themselves as "hive" and "hivemates." He is going to be the most helpful bestest scout ever so that he never fails them cannot fail them not like previous hive can prove his independance :]

Elita for sure sees him as a younger brother and calls him "Bebop" because the beepin was the first noises she ever heard from him. Outside of her, his main nicknames amongst the crew are "Buzzer" and "BB"

As previously stated, his wings being all exposed circuitry means they're extremely sensitive to touch - even a slight bend in the wing can be incredibly painful for him and requires a lot of delicacy to care for. Ratchet has never worked on bugbots before. If Bumblebee's wing ever gets shot, it will hands-down be one of the most stressful surgeries of his career as it'll also be the first one he's ever done of this kind. He's the only who can do it, and Bumblebee himself is in so much excrutiating pain he genuinely has no idea where he is or who anyone is, being in massive fight-or-flight mode which is. Y'know. Fun for all involved :)

Anyway, other hivemind behaviour he has is: head nuzzling, communal sleeping, snuggling into the warmest place possible and embodying the "snug as a bug in a rug" phrase, likes to sit on the shoulders of bigger bots, kickin his legs while natterin to them. He is very friend and, like all good scouts, is great at pickin up body language, general moods, various sounds around him, the usual scout things. He's very observant basically which is somethin you forget easily given his usual personality

Part of bein a scout is having the skill to sneak around undetected; Bumblebee can therefore be unnerringly quiet when he wants to, which makes it very easy for him to accidentally scare the spark out of other mechs. Ironhide cussed up a storm the first time this happened to him lol

#transformers #bumblebee #bugbot bumblebee #yeah I'll tag it as that fuck it #anyway those are my thoughts and ideas for now hehe kina all over the place but eh I got em out at last

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cacoetheswriting · 2 years ago

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celebrity skin. (part five)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.6k summary: a party from hell.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mentions of recreational alcohol & drug consumption, emotional hurt / no comfort in this chapter (sorry, she's a little angsty), blackmail, family drama, mentions of minor character death — if i missed anything, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

The venue is filled wall to wall with people, half of whom you have not met before this night. They’re swaying to the loud music, talking over one another, and indulging in various colourful drinks from the open bar.

Sitting on a sofa in the corner of the large space, you’re watching the night unfold in front of your eyes. There’s a drink in your hand, a cranberry vodka, however, you haven’t touched it yet. Instead, the ice has long melted, causing lone droplets of water to drip down your arm.

A harsh scent of alcohol fills the air. It gets stronger every time a party attendee sits next to you, congratulating you on an incredible single with the band they never thought you’d ever play with. You go with the flow, the politeness you’ve been taught from a young age showing its wings, and thank each person that engages with you for coming tonight.

They ask how this all came about, you on a song with Corroded Coffin. A collaboration for the ages.

You answer honestly, to the best of your knowledge. “The powers that be organised everything”, and the person you’re speaking with laughs at your answer. Then they ask about a topic much hotter than the new record — your relationship with Eddie Munson.

The second the curly-haired rockstar is mentioned, a smile breaches your lips.

“That’s between me and him, for now.”

Which doesn’t stop anyone from trying to invade your privacy further. Wondering, out loud and with no shame, if what they’re reading in the tabloids is true. Is it just for show, or is it real? And then it goes one of two ways:

“Hope I’m invited to the wedding. It’s shaping up to be quite the party.”

“At least you’ll make a lot of money from this arrangement.”

Not one person wishes you well. Not one person says they’re happy for you, or for the Corroded Coffin frontman. It obviously makes you wonder why because you look happy… right? Why is your relationship such a big deal if you’re clearly happy?

Don’t you look happy?

But then, in between those conversations, your gaze finds Eddie with ease. His own brown eyes land on you every single time, without fail, as if there was some sort of magnetic pull between the two of you. He smiles wide, shooting you a casual wink from wherever he’s standing at the time.

And so, you force the treacherous thoughts deep, deep down. Squish them until they’re miniscule and a problem for later — which in retrospect, not a good idea — ‘cause right this moment in time, you’re definitely happy.

Eddie makes you happy.

You’re also just glad to see the rockstar is having fun, considering how reluctant he was to leave the comfort of his own home. He’s mingling and laughing. A pep in his step as he orders another drink. After all, parties are his element.

“God, my poor fucking feet hurt so much,” Holly sighs, dropping down next to you with an elegant bounce. “I honestly don’t know how you can perform in heels for multiple nights in a row when I can’t even make it through a couple of measly hours.”

You laugh. “No pain, no gain.”

“Okay, Magic Johnson.” Holly snorts while playfully rolling her eyes.

“Actually, I’d prefer to be Patrick Ewing,” you correct her, it’s a tease with a slight dramatic flare, “‘Cause who am I if not a New York Knicks fan.”

The giggle that escapes your friend is infectious. In between the lighthearted chuckles, she does her best not to spill the fruity drink in her hand, pressing the glass to her lips and taking a sip. She relaxes into the sofa, legs now extended outwards, a hazard to anyone walking by.

“Speaking of New York, when are you taking the rockstar to meet your parents?” Holly probes, brow raised.

“Oh god,” you dramatise in response, “That’s like a super serious thing, no? I don’t think we’re there yet.”

But Holly doesn’t give up as easily, seeing right through the front you didn’t even realise you were putting up. As your best friend, she knows you better than anyone. That includes moments like these, when you’re minimising feelings out of fear.

“Babe, be for real. He has already met your grandma and she’s arguably a lot more important than your parents.” Holly states, taking another quick sip of her cocktail. “No offence to Alicia and Brad, but we all know your family is ruled by the little lady who already hates your boyfriend.”

You sigh. She’s obviously right.

“So, what’s the real reason you don’t wanna take him home?”

Glancing over at Eddie, who’s lost in conversation with the producers of your record, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering what to say to her. “Because I’m scared it’s all moving too fast,” would be an appropriate answer to the question, but then again that’s not entirely true.

Holly nudges your arm and you turn your attention back to her immediately.

“I’ve just been really happy in our little bubble these last few months and I’m afraid if we venture further out into the real world, we’ll lose that feeling.”

Raw, honest. It’s a scary thing to say, but Holly doesn’t judge. She never does. Instead, her arm makes way around your shoulders and she squeezes you lightly when your head rests against her skin.

“With the way the two of you look at one another, I bet my sanity that you’ll be together for a very long time.”

And you hope she’s right.

Eddie walks up to where you’re sitting shortly after, politely asking your friend if he could steal a moment alone with you. Holly of course agrees, saying something about finding Jeff ‘cause he looks mighty fine tonight and she’s a little buzzed, “If you know, you know.”. You watch with a smile as she disappears between the dancing bodies while Eddie sits in the now empty spot, casually placing a hand on your thigh.

“Having fun?”

“I am,” you answer and lean in closer to place a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Even more now.”

He smirks at you. “I’m glad, baby.”

“Seems you are too.”

“I am.” Eddie nods, free hand now holding your jaw, as he leans in to capture your lips with his own.

The kiss is short and sweet, but like everything you and the rockstar do, it attracts attention from pretty much everyone in the room. A click of the camera, a flash of light. But neither of you care. Looking instead into each other’s eyes once you pull apart, as if you’re the only people at this party.

Even though putting a label on things wasn’t entirely necessary, it definitely cemented whatever feelings are floating within your core. And Eddie feels the same way. He actually feels a lot more than he’s willing to admit out loud. Partially because he’s always battled commitment issues, mainly because he’s really afraid of losing you.

Again.

Eddie Munson loved a good party.

This wasn’t always the case, since during his teenage years he was often excluded from every single guest list. Then he started dealing. Suddenly, the metalhead was a hot ticket, and even though people still didn’t care for his company, they liked the stuff he brought. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention — as fake as it may have been.

Once Corroded Coffin made it big, and Eddie realised that people actually wanted to party with him for who he was, and not the drugs he had access too, (although, for some, it was a little bit of both), the rockstar decided he was going to throw the best damn parties Hollywood has ever seen.

It quickly became second nature. Make money, then spend it just as fast so other people can have a good time.

When the drinking, and other activities, got a little out of control, the guys tried to talk some sense into their friend with a little tough love: “Dude, those people don’t give a fuck about you! They only wanna hang out with you, ‘cause you’re rich.”. But Eddie was too far gone and he didn’t care to stop. His house was full of people every single weekend, most of whom he knew, and for the first time in his miserable life, the rockstar felt like the most important person on the goddamn planet. There was no way he was letting go of that feeling.

Then August ‘92 happened.

The evening started off as nothing special. Just another pool party to combat the unbearable Los Angeles heat. It was a common occurrence during the summer months, so Eddie didn’t think that night was going to be any different.

Surrounded by a group of girls that undoubtedly only want to get in his pants, he’s laughing at the unfunny jokes and taking advantage of the fact that he doesn’t need to refill his own drinks, the “groupies”, as Marianne calls them, gladly do it for him.

They’re brushing up against him and flirting with no shame while batting their lashes. Eddie usually eats this shit up. Matter of fact, he should be loving every second of it right now, but his focus has long shifted elsewhere, the girls a mere distraction from the actual object of his attention and desire.

From the corner of his eye, he’s watching you.

Jesus Christ. Eddie can’t believe you came. He can’t believe you’re actually here, at his house, seemingly enjoying yourself. And to say you looked fucking hot would be the understatement of a century. Splayed out on one of the lounge chairs, hiding from the sun, you’re wearing a white cotton blouse and skimpy denim shorts, and Eddie aches for his current conversation to be over so he can go and officially introduce himself to you — like he should have at the Grammys.

“Eds, do you want another drink?”

He barely registers the question, even with the girl who has her hand on his bare bicep, rubbing up and down rather seductively. Instead, the rockstar notices how you stand up and look around the party once, before walking in the direction of his big house. So Eddie thinks that now’s his chance, perhaps the only one he’d get, and following a quick internal monologue to pep himself up, he leaves the group of ladies disappointed, following you inside.

That was almost the last party Eddie threw.

You flipped this switch inside of him, one the rockstar didn’t even know existed. After that night, he no longer wanted attention from just anyone. Taking centre stage in his mind — and heart — was America’s favourite sweetheart. Even when he royally fucked things up, he only thought about you.

Though for a number of lonesome weeks, he wasn’t sure you were thinking about him since his actions proved nothing more than borderline douchey. So Eddie fell back into self-destructive behaviour just as fast as he scrambled out of it. The parties got louder, he became more obnoxious.

September 1992. Saturday Night Live.

That will be a night his band, his management, his friends, and even his fans, will never let Eddie forget. Unfortunately, for all the wrong reasons.

The drinks pre-show were free and Eddie had a mountain of feelings he desperately needed to get over, along with memories he wanted to bury deep, until they were nothing but specs of dust, flashes that didn’t resemble anything — especially not you.

He did his best not to slur his words during the live performance, and for the most part, he succeeded. Although that didn’t really matter since anyone in the rockstar's vicinity could clearly tell he was intoxicated. Eddie, leaning half his weight on the microphone, round sunglasses covering his bloodshot eyes, should have never been allowed to set foot on the stage that night.

Let alone twice.

Under the dim stage light, as they hoped to conclude their last song without a major incident, Eddie’s band mates were exchanging worried glances. The Corroded Coffin frontman had a couple more drinks in between sets and was barely able to follow along with the music.

Thankfully, behind the scenes, Marianne convinced production to shift the cameras away from unravelling Eddie, even switched off his microphone, and the only people left witness to his drunken mess were the folks present physically.

Eddie on the other hand couldn’t have cared less about how he was behaving since the alcohol didn’t numb him like he hoped, instead the thought of you being somewhere in the same city, overpowered his senses. Would it be crazy to hope you were watching? Would it be crazy to think that despite how rudely he treated you, you’d still show up like you both talked about?

Would it be crazy to try and find you? Search New York, high and low, in hopes that someone knows someone, who knows someone else, that knows where you live?

Instead, against his better judgement and everyone else’s rather aggressive protests, Eddie goes to the after party planned in his name.

Unsurprisingly, you didn’t come.

His black out was imminent.

The damages done to the restaurant came to just under five thousand dollars. The stress from keeping it out of the press robbed his team about two years of their life, so Marianne says.

And that was the last party Eddie threw.

Considering how out of control things had gotten, how out of control he had become at some point during the night while thinking about you with every drink that burned down his throat, it could’ve been a lot worse.

Eddie still only thinks about you. Difference being, now, almost a year later, you are attending a party together, and the alcohol no longer tastes like regret.

When he looks at you, like he is right now, under the fluorescent club lights, his heart increases tenfold. He wants to kiss every inch of your face, hold you close because that’s where you belong.

Things simply got better because he owned up to his mistakes and learned to open himself up to love, as scary as that feeling is sometimes. He’s not second guessing your intentions, because that would be cruel. He just loses himself in his doubts sometimes, since in the past, no pretty girl has given him the time of day without wanting something in return.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Eddie whispers against your lips, thumb gently grazing along your cheekbone. He proceeds to tell you how you make life a little more normal, and he’s grateful for it, despite always wanting fame. You tell him how attention is nothing if it doesn’t come from the right person, and he agrees, brown locks bouncing as he nods his head. Then he kisses you again.

And this kiss is arguably a lot more urgent than the last. Eddie is hovering over you entirely. One hand remains holding onto your face, while the other is on your waist, pushing you deeper into the sofa.

You can hear another click of a camera in the distance and despite your better judgement, that voice in the back of your mind, closely reminiscent of your Nana’s, telling you to push your boyfriend away, you slide your hands up his back and cling closer to him.

An inch of regret courses through your veins the following morning when you receive a call from your quite displeased team, “what the hell were you thinking?!”. You deflect. Unwilling for anyone to burst through the happy bubble you’ve found yourself in, you blame them for poor organisation and security ‘cause who even allows cameras to be brought into a private Hollywood event.

That regret is unfortunately also accompanied by a killer hangover and very little memory of what else has happened the night prior.

The empty spot in bed, usually home to a set of wild brown locks, should have been a warning sign ‘cause Eddie never woke up before you, especially after a party. You find him in the kitchen, at the spot where the two of you first met. His head is in his hands and you’re instantly feeling worried.

The happy bubble threatening to burst.

“Hey,” you croak, hoping to get his attention, “are you okay?”

Eddie’s as still as a statue. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence, or your question, and the worry in the pit of your stomach increases tenfold. So you approach him, movements slow due to the banging headache as well as the apprehension given your boyfriend's current position. Only when your hand hesitantly reaches his back, rubbing once downward while you position yourself next to him, Eddie lifts his head and tilts it to the side, finally meeting your eyes.

“Had a good night?” Eddie asks, shifting his stance so that your hand falls down to your side. This should have been a second warning; him trying to avoid physical contact.

“Y-yeah,” you force a smile, thinking that it’s needed, “You?”

“Not really,” he answers a little too quickly.

His brown eyes scan yours, for what exactly, you’re a little too hungover to realise. But the longer he stares at you, the worse you begin to feel. A certain dread spreads through your insides, causing your stomach to drop. What’s happening right now? Actually, what happened in the late hours of last night that’s causing this sudden rift between you and the rockstar.

“What’s going on, Eddie?”

The tone of your voice is so quiet, you’re unsure he’s even heard you. But then a sigh escapes his lips. He briefly glances towards the back door, out towards the pool, before settling his gaze back on your frame.

“I think we made a mistake,” he says a little too bluntly. “I-I don’t think we should have labelled this so soon, and ehm… This is nothing on you, sweetheart. I’m just not the relationship type.”

Dumbfounded, is a little too plain to explain the feeling that you’re experiencing at this very moment. Betrayed would be a better word, but that would mean Eddie is after saying those things. That he’s really after shattering your entire world in the space of a few mere seconds. Betrayed would mean your gut instinct, the one you have ignored ever since you’ve met the Corroded Coffin frontman, was always correct: he was no good.

Used, is how you begin to feel as Eddie continues to list reasons for why he can’t actually be your boyfriend and how you’re better off simply being friends with benefits, or whatever it is the two of you had been over the last few months. Used fuels the anger inside of you because, to you, deceit is worse than cheating. And he seems so nonchalant about it, which only adds to the fire.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Eddie stops mid another lame excuse and for the first time this morning, he reaches for your hands, fingers gently grazing against your skin, which only adds to the pain you’re beginning to endure.

“Sweetheart…”

“No, no.”

You retreat, unwilling to let the rockstar hold you since he’s after breaking your heart like it was worth nothing — Jesus H. Christ, this is some sick and twisted deja vu.

Instead, you cross your arms across your chest like a shield while taking a step away from the man you realised now you definitely loved, yet one that clearly didn’t love you.

“I-I guess I’m just confused as to what’s changed since last night—”

“I’m not the relationship type,” Eddie cuts in, repeating what he’s already said, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel anything towards you. I like you, sweetheart. A lot.”

“Eddie, come on,” you scoff, tears threatening to breach through the confines of their home, “Do you realise how ridiculous you sound right now? If you feel something towards me, I-I don’t get how being called my boyfriend and being exclusive with me is the worst thing on the planet.”

When he doesn’t immediately reply, you continue.

“Unless that’s it. You don’t want to be exclusive because the thought of keeping your dick in your pants when I’m not around is too difficult, or having other people throw themselves at you and not immediately act on it is something Eddie Munson simply cannot do.”

“That’s not it,” the rockstar interjects.

“Then fucking enlighten me, Eddie, because you’re making no fucking sense right now!”

Again, he doesn’t say anything. And it’s precisely because he’s not showing any willingness to be honest with you right this moment, after endless prior conversations about how that’s the one thing he will always be, you decide for your own sanity that this isn’t a relationship you can fight for.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

Three words you’ve spoken to him before, only this time they hold a lot more weight. This time, they signal an end to something that was only after getting a proper beginning. The end of America’s favourite popstar and the Corroded Coffin frontman — a headline that broke on Page Six the very next morning.

Eddie watches you leave. Frozen in his spot as you rush back to the bedroom the two of you have shared the last few months. And his heart aches because unbeknown to you, this is not what he wanted to happen.

Unbeknown to you, this is not how he actually feels. He doesn’t want to end things with you so soon after they’ve begun. He wants you. He wants to be your boyfriend, if not more.

He just can’t.

Last night’s party was the main catalyst behind the rockstar’s actions this morning. The attendance of a certain someone that wasn’t actually invited was a shock to Eddie’s drunken system, and the reason behind why he simply can’t tell you anything, especially the truth.

(Not right now anyway.)

Chrissy Cunningham.

The preppy blonde was the only person Eddie loved before meeting you.

Despite not ever being anything more than friends, at least on a physical level, for the longest time, Chrissy was Eddie’s only supporter. The only person to show him kindness and shower him with care he undoubtedly deserved.

Chrissy encouraged Eddie to follow his dreams, pursue a career in music, because out of everyone in Hawkins, she truly believed in his talent.

Then she died.

Suddenly, Eddie was not only left with a hole in his heart, but he also found himself at the centre of a murder investigation. Despite being declared innocent, her death nothing but a freak accident, the scars on the rockstar’s body remind him of the events of March ‘86 to this very day.

He told you a little about what happened, just failed to mention Chrissy. Not for any particular reason, he just doesn’t talk about her as a rule — unwilling to reopen the wounds he so desperately tried to heal over the years.

And because he doesn’t talk about Chrissy, or mention her name and what she meant to him, Eddie never expected her to be brought up.

Especially not a Hollywood party of all places.

Eddie first spotted your grandmother mid-performance of the band’s single with you. She approached him shortly after, when you excused yourself to take some shots with Holly, leaving the frontman alone.

“Even I cannot deny that it’s a good song,” she states simply, as Eddie eyes her suspiciously.

“With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t think you were on the guest list.”

She scoffs. “Just like my lovely granddaughter, I can get myself on every single list I want, and even though I don’t necessarily want to be here, I do have something to tell you.”

Eddie cocks a brow, “Oh yeah?”

“Hawkins is a lovely little town,” she says, not missing a beat. “It’s quaint. Reminds me of a place I spent hiding my pregnancy all those moons ago, but that’s a story for another time. Or not. Depends how well you listen to me right now.”

“What do you want?”

“Does my granddaughter know about Chrissy Cunningham?”

Eddie’s face falls the second Chrissy’s name escapes your grandmothers painted lips, though he doesn’t get a chance to actually reply to the question, because she’s quick to continue with her agenda.

“I suppose not. Your uncle Wayne was really quite open to tell me about her though, about what she meant to you.”

She pauses, tilting her head to one side.

“I am sorry for your loss, Edward.”

Another brief pause.

“Yet I can’t help the curiosity, why didn’t you tell my baby about this girl if she supposedly played such a big part in you pursuing your dreams?”

“Don’t do this—”

“Do what, Edward? I’m just trying to learn more about the boy my naive granddaughter is willing to risk her entire career for. Again, your uncle Wayne was very helpful in this department, considering you practically shunned me from the dinner I organised for this exact reason.”

“Listen—”

“No,” your grandmother interrupts, “We both know you’re not good enough for my sweet angel and this entire Chrissy situation you are trying really hard to hide from everyone, only proves my point,” she snaps and Eddie’s feeling grateful that the place is a little too crowded and a little too noisy for anyone to hear what’s happening at this very moment.

“Edward, if you have nothing to hide, if you’re really innocent and played no part in the poor girl's death, why can’t the world know? Feel free to answer me, I’m just trying to get some insight into who my granddaughter has chosen to date.”

Eddie swallows his breath, unsure of what to say because it’s these types of conversations he’s been trying to avoid by not bringing up Chrissy.

Ever.

He didn’t do anything to the girl he loved. He is one hundred percent innocent, and the courts proved his side of the story. Yet, he’s been ridiculed and questioned left, right, and centre.

Only Max and Wayne know that the final reason as to why he’s decided to leave Hawkins behind for good, was to get away from the rumours and the people that didn’t believe him. And as he rushed to chase his dreams, he swore he’d never bring this up. Swore to never mention Chrissy’s name to anyone, or the fact that she’s been the inspiration behind numerous Corroded Coffin singles.

In a way, it was freeing. In Los Angeles, Chrissy Cunnigham was nothing but a figment of Eddie’s imagination.

Until this very moment.

“I didn’t kill her.”

“I know,” your Nana states, “But it wouldn’t take a lot to make people in Hollywood believe that you did and then your image is ruined, your career starts to decline, and the only other person that’s affected besides you and your bandmates, is the person you claim to feel something for. My granddaughter.”

Eddie’s heart sinks. He glances behind your grandmother’s shoulder to where you’re standing at the bar with Holly, laughing at something your friend has said seconds prior.

He’s happy with you. He’s happy to be known as your boyfriend.

And it’s because of that happiness, he knows he cannot ruin your life by involving you in something that happened before he was even famous.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” the rockstar mumbles in a defeated tone.

“She’s going to hurt either way,” your grandmother says, “But if you end things with her on your own, I promise to keep Chrissy’s name out of the press, so you’re only breaking my granddaughter's heart and not simultaneously ending her career.”

The metalhead hangs his head low, closing his eyes momentarily to try and gather his tipsy thoughts. His lack of rebuttal is enough for your grandmother to claim her victory. She places a hand on the rockstar’s shoulder and squeezes once, faking remorse.

“And Eddie,” she continues, “I wouldn’t tell her about this conversation, and I also wouldn’t be so brave to tell her about Chrissy yourself, because with a snap of my finger, the whole world will know. Then you gotta ask yourself, what’s more important? Your happiness, her happiness, or the careers you both worked extremely hard for.”

She lets her hand fall and walks out of the party with her head held high. Unseen by you and unnoticed by everyone else here, almost like a ghost. Like the conversion never happened.

But the ache in Eddie’s chest is proof enough. He knows what occurred, just like he knows what he unfortunately needs to do — which is break your fucking heart.

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @astheni-a , @bebe07011

#sorry this took a while eek.#also sorry she’s rather angsty #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson story #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #celebrity skin.

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