#something about the topic makes me go insane for some reason and not in the good way like archaeology and museums do

[mochinomnoms]

I come with dumb thought: Twisted Wonderland has animals that are extinct or close to extinct in MC's world. If MC is a biology or nature nerd I can see them freaking out and crying tears of joy to know these animals or any other organism is alive in twst.

Also, do you know if zoos exist in twst? And if they do is it like... there's an event in obey me I may be remembering wrong but there was a popular aquarium but all the first were like... I think this was a vacation spot for them or a job I don't remember fully but they had a home they'd return to after a while. I imagine zoos in twst may be like that? Now I'm just imaging an animal getting paid in cash like a wolf or something and taking it to a store to but meat.

This calls in the question about how sentient animals are in TWST and the morality of keeping sentient creature in things like zoos and aquariums.

The main purpose of zoos and aquariums are conservation and rehabilitation, with the added bonus of education for the public. They are also valuable for researching the behaviors and habits of animals that might not be safe to do so in the wild. But like, our animals obviously aren't sentient to the level they are in TWST. Like dolphins and ravens are some of the most intelligent animals, able to use tools to a certain extent, from what I'm aware their interactions with us are the equivalent of interacting with a child. They also don't have senses of morality, and we can't really apply human morality to animals because they're animals and they only truly respond to their instincts and environment.

Like, animals in TWST have to have some level of sentience but is it equivalent to a child? Like, Lucius has some sentience, he asks Ruggie to get him tuna knowing that Trein doesn't let him have any, but is he able to really process why? Also, he's a familiar, so does that mean he's more sentient? Grim is also considered Yuu's familiar, but even with him being able to speak and use magic, he's still regarded the same way you would a child, and we wouldn't consider it ethical to keep him in a zoo.

There's also the fact that the King of Beasts and Simba's pride in Sunset Savana are regarded the same way you would a beastman, but does that mean that those animals that had just the right about of sentience developed into beastmen? The way they're discussedd, they're on the same level as like a god or hero from a myth or religious text (or as religious you can get in twst). This question is incredibly distressing to me and I don't know why it is each time it comes up.

Anyways, to answer your question, I think that there are some animals that are extinct here that are there. The wooly rhino, spix's macaw, and pinta giant tortoise are a few that I can think of that might exist in TWST. To be frank, the reason most of them are extinct are because of climate change, overhunting, deforestation and urbanization, but those issues haven't really come up in TWST I believe? Maybe those aren't issues in TWST? Magic probably negates the need for a lot of our industrialization, so I would say that there are for sure animals that are extinct in our world that still exists in TWST.

Anyways, pls no questions about animals and zoo in twst for a while it distresses me for some reason...

[mangoofthesea]

when you read a fic that makes you feel a little bit (read: a lot) insane and while writing down a quote because it has made you feral you realise you read one of their other fics years ago and it made you feel insane in a much more chill way because it was before some of the most changing and not great years of your life and it just so happens its hitting that niche again but now in a way that shatters you to your core because 2 years ago you would not have related quite so hard to the words 'they haunt me' 'that is often what kindness feels like' and 'he feels like a child. He feels too old for his bones' but now you're much older than the 2 years and it's 1am and a fucking zukka fanfic author has reached into your chest personally in different ways with different fics 2 years apart on 2 different ao3 accounts (for me) and you're wondering what life even is at this point

[actual-changeling]

welcome back to alex's unhinged meta corner, today's topic: the chest touch at the pub. that scene has me in a chokehold for some reason and i still cannot stop thinking about it.

the first thing i wanna talk about is crowley's reaction, since this is the shorter part. he did not expect aziraphale to reach out to him like this and freezes for a second while aziraphale happily chatters away.

they were both walking and the hand on his chest stops him, so he comes to a stop right next to him while he was slightly behind him before that. his gaze also snaps to aziraphale's face, who is very much not looking at him.

they were having a conversation, but the touch essentially shuts crowley up and zira leaves him to get their drinks.

now, my question is why aziraphale does it. sure, it could just be an absent gesture since they're in a crowded place, just that he has never really done so before. i think it was very much planned, like asking crowley to dance and grabbing his hand later on.

a second before he actually reaches out, he also looks back to check whether crowley is where he thinks he is. that is the only time he does that, he was busy looking for a free table and miracles them one when he cannot find one - the look back is deliberate. especially since crowley is practically glued to his side, he has no need for confirmation, he can feel him brushing against him while walking.

the hand motion he does gets me, too. he is busy fidgeting with his hands like normal and has them clasped in front of him. aziraphale lifts them once he gets to "that is precisely the point", yet also already moves it slightly towards crowley, realizes he miscalculated where exactly he/his chest is, looks to check, then looks away again before actually touching him. am i reading too much into it? maybe.

i think it is his version of a little temptation. not only does it make crowley's brain short-circuit for a second, he also gets them their drinks and is now (or so aziraphale hopes) a bit calmer and will take the news aziraphale is about to give him better. the conversation at the cafe did not go entirely as planned, after all.

additionally, something i am not sure if other people have noticed or not is that aziraphale does not just touch crowley, it is a caress. he moves his hand down his chest.

the movement in order:

bar girl unfortunately moves in front of them, but you can clearly see the way his hand takes. to give you a direct comparison of the starting and end point:

a good point of reference is crowley's bolo tie but also the angle of aziraphale's arm while it is still visible.

the best part, in my opinion, is that aziraphale puts his hand right on top of crowley's heart. i think the symbolic importance of that is pretty clear and does not require any more explanation, although it makes me want to throw myself into a river. but that's by the by.

to summarize, aziraphale caresses crowley's heart chest to get him to calm down and not go insane over the news he is about to give him. he is also simply a bastard and knows exactly what he is doing to crowley.

as always, this is me going nuts with analysis, but i'm also curious to hear other people's thoughts on this.

don't tell my therapist about my unhinged meta posts or she will probably be very concerned for my mental wellbeing

[rafry]

Euclydia, Cults and Need for Control

Disclaimer: this analysis raises sensitive topics. if you are/were a victim of a cult and the topic triggers you, please refrain from reading further(/seek help). Additionally, I am not a specialist on said topic, nor am I a clinician. But I am a survivor, so part of the narrative may or may not be just me projecting the trauma on a silly yellow triangle. That said, reader discretion is advised! :)

The take: Euclydia is likely to be a cult-like society and the reason Bill, after years of abuse, grows up to be as he is: a power-hungry monster. Let's analyze!

For the starters, The Start. Each state has its own anthem. How lucky that we were kindly provided with the Euclidian hymn (hidden under the code "FORGETTHEPAST")! Lets take a look:

"Two dimensions to and from, You always know which way to go If you're lost, don't be afraid, In Euclydia you've got it made! Run too far too right of frame, You'll appear on left again! Jump too high, don't fry or fret, You'll pop up from the ground, I bet! In this place there is no fear, Roles and rules, always clear, Euclydia, we hold you dear…"

That tells us way more than we could've asked for, really. The most important: Euclydia is a state of Clear Rules™. Everything works perfectly thanks to The Rules and The Roles, and the state is loved by it's citizens. It's might be a caricature 2D utopia, but how it reacts when the rules are questioned?

"Eye doctor of a different kind, who wants to make his patient blind The doctor says: 'three sips a day will make the visions go away' Fussy eater, baby Billy Wouldn't drink unless it's silly..."

If there's anything about cults and the way they make people behave, is that the "wrong" ones in the community are usually ostracized and/or heavily medicated to not cause any troubles. Those people are sometimes called 'heretics', but may as well just be called crazy or insane by their peers. Oh look completely unrelated picture:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane Starting fires with his brain"

Honestly, the other time it would be it. Euclydia, if not Is, then sure does Act like a cult in some way. I could've finished here, easily, but there's something missing, isn't?

"The hell do you mean by 'The Need to Control', OP?"

I mean that the BILLVILLE is important.

There's the thing about trauma survivors: some of us, after living a life with no control over ones societal position (ostracization/isolation), body (forcibly medicated) or even mind (feeling of inadequacy), crave for some form of control to be regained.

It can turn toxic very quickly when the only form of control one has ever seen in their life is being The Leader (cult leader/shitty parent/armageddon overlord/you get the idea, it's about becoming an authority figure).

And so, Bill becomes a cult leader! Very possibly covering up the need for control and admiration with what I call "The most inefficient way to build an Interdimentional Portal ever", since, well, he's got to lie to himself every now and then, that's his thing (trauma response).

As for the details:

He uses the dead mans body — the body that wouldn't cause any resistance, thus being perfect for taking under control.

He sees the position of the interviewer as more authoritative than the position of the interviewee — and he swaps the roles. That wasn't enough though, so he demands (politely) to be called "My Lord And Master" for a good measure.

He very possibly recreates some of Euclydia-like order in his own "Town" in terms of expressing individuality. They might've been pretty decent in following scripts, I think.

So, I don't think Euclydia has ever been religious in any way, since that would left some other scars on Bills psyche for sure. But highly authoritative, ignorant, strict in its rules to the point of self-damnation? That checks. That's the place that has formed Bill, after all.

That's the place that he wishes to rebuild.

Maybe not consciously, maybe distorted by his illness and broken memory of a loving-paradise-home that has never actually been that way, but he seeks the comfort of familiarity — most of us do. Familiar stings are better than an uncontrollable too-bright future, isn't?

I hope he does well on therapy.

[paradiseprincesss]

my random jonathan crane headcanons 🦇☕️🩺

i’m bored at work so i decided to jot down some of my personal headcanons & thoughts of our favourite little psycho doctor :] im talking about nolanverse!jonathan crane in these also <3

warning: nsfw themes/18+ MDNI

🧸💌💉🌙

• i think he's a scorpio sun, capricorn moon, and a virgo rising because it just...makes sense

• if we're on the topic of astrology, he'd definitely think it's bullshit - like i know he'd roll his eyes as soon as someone starts to talk about astrology because where's the scientific evidence proving this stuff is legit?

• he drives a mercedes prove me wrong; and i know he'd always pick you up because he insists on doing it. just got off work? he's there. need a lift to class? you best believe he's driving you and picking you up after

• for safety reasons too, of course

• and its tinted like im talking completely blacked out so nobody can see him because he values his privacy or whatever

• despite what everyone thinks, he drinks his coffee with cream and sugar just not overly sweet. he dislikes black coffee because it's just too bitter and i think he wouldn't even bother drinking something that doesn't taste that good if u know what i mean?

• if you brought him coffee AND you remembered his order he would pretend to not care but deep down, his cold heart is melting lol

• he wears mont blanc cologne. no i will not elaborate any further — but he does. specifically mont blanc legend

• he gets flustered when you compliment him on how good he smells i can definitely see him having a hard time accepting compliments from you

• i also think when he compliments you, it's a little stiff or awkward at first because he doesn't really know how to show genuine love because he rarely ever feels this way

• if he was to move in with you, even if you were the girliest girl ever with all the shoes, clothes, and handbags you could dream of... his suit collection would still take up more closet space than your things to the point where you'd probably have to have two walk in closets or separate closets

• he will NOT compromise getting rid of any of his suits to make space for your things, BUT he will buy you another closet/get your place renovated and pay for it so you have more closet space

• he would want a girl who is smart — intellectual stimulation to jonathan is extremely important. you simply cannot be with him unless you're willing to talk about theories, psychology, anatomy, etc with him because who else is going to be able to share his thoughts with?

nsfw themes below

• i think he'd much rather give than receive because he strikes me as a little insecure — if he's eating you out you're focused on the way he's making you feel and he gets to focus on your body, rather than his own

• his stamina is fucking WILD because the self control this man has... like it's insane? could go round after round and will let you have your pleasure before his own, not a selfish lover despite what people think

• i think he's one of if not the most selfless lover in bed because i just know he'd fuck you so good, leave you a mess and make you come over and over again first before letting himself go

• i also think if you aren't into the whole "fear play" thing, he wouldn't force you. he would want you to be kinky and he'd totally experiment with you, but he'd never ever make you uncomfortable or push your limits if you didn't want to or agree to it

• he would 100% pay for your hair, nails, etc whatever is is you want because he thinks it's even sexier when you're all dressed up and done up for him before he ruins you

• especially the whole manicured nails thing...he'd pay for you to have them done because he likes to see them while your hands are wrapped around his cock and you're taking him in your mouth, looking up at him desperately

• buuuuut him actually letting you give him head is kind of...rare? because like i said, he's a lil insecure so he really has to trust you if he's going to let you in like that? and we're not going to talk about how long it takes for him to actually fuck you without any pieces of clothing on

• literally would rather you be naked and him fully dressed for obvious power dynamic reasons, but also because HE LITERALLY IS A NERD LOL he's not confident in his body

• even though you'd die for him and kiss the ground he walked on he's like :[

• lowkey...he's into body worshipping. everyone's like oh he's into bondage, punishment, fear play, all the extremes and stuff - ok sure. yes, but also BODY WORSHIPPING. i already know he falls more in love with you every time you do it to him

• but there's a fine line between body worshipping and letting you take the reins for real. he would rather die than be a sub :]

• lowkey after care is giving!!!

• towels, warm baths, glasses of wine and if you don't feel like drinking, maybe some hot tea and lots of gentle love after

• sigh, you love your little psycho nerdy doctor

• come at me for making him soft but i believe he's like this due to 1) his actual canon backstory and 2) nerds lowkey do it best sorry i don't make the rules

• ps, the glasses STAY on

🧸💌💉🌙

taglist:

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @esotericdoe

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @wiseyouthinfluencer

@abprill @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii

@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn

@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @o0laura @fiona-my-love

[pacifythots]

[Base on the Suo noncon post]

you think Suo would be into dacryphilia? Like when he finally gets between your legs and overstim the hell out of you becuz he’s been waiting so long and you start crying from the amount of times you’ve came already? I feel like he would turn it against you somehow and make you feel like a whore 🤧🤧 (he would both praise and degrade you)

But like he’ll also be so turned on from it like the way tears just runs down your face has him going at insane paces.

Different topic but he’ll be so good at aftercare, like clean you up (dress you in his clothes), and make sure you have water afterwards

Man Suo being all red flags and toxic is kinda hot- 🙃🙃

- 🪷

nonnie ... yes. i have so many thoughts about this, and it'll probably turn into a little one-shot in the future. however, i'll keep it as short as i can. i forgot to answer this, this morning so i'll answer it rn since im fiending over suo rn for some reason ; afab!reader, dacryphilia, gaslighting, character aged up 18+

suo embodies "mixed signals," he embodies unpredictability, fickleness, etc. he's canonically manipulative and sadistic in fights which leads me to think that he can quite sadistic in bed aswell. however, he's more into "softer" forms of pain. for example, edging or overestimulation. he'd never go too far when causing you pain, but he adores the way your lips curl, the way your eyebrows deeply furrow, and the way your eyes clamp shut, all because of him.

suo is the type of man to find pleasure by torturing both you and himself. there's no doubt that he wants to fuck you, but he holds off because of the way you're writhing beneath him.

he aims to make you cry simply by not touching you. and it works! his cock may be straining painfully against his pants, but its all worth the pathetic little look to give him—tears pooling on your eyelids before you burst in a barrage of tears. you beg and beg and it isn't until your mascara has made a mess of your face does he touch you like he's been longing for.

and, of course, he doesn't give you pleasure without adding a bit of torture to it. your eyes catch the sadistic amusement in his eyes as he grips your ankles to prevent you from going anywhere.

running from him after you asked to cum? its not his fault you never said how many times. it's your fault you didn't specify. it's your fault for tasting so good, for inviting him into your cunt over and over and over again. its not his fault for enjoying the way you drool onto the sheets. it's your fault for looking so damn good he had to indulge in gluttony.

the stutter of your chest and the flutter of your glossy eyes only push him further. the globs of tears streaming down your cheeks causes his cock to twitch inside of you.

the pathetic display is something he can never get over. it turns him on ... every. single. time.

of course he's not cruel enough to leave you battered by his fingers in your pussy or beaten by his harsh, degrading words. once he's had his fill, he leans down and peppers kisses on your face. he brushes your hair out of the way to give a loving kiss to your forehead. he carefully picks you and takes you to the bath, washing every inch of your body with delicacy as if he hadn't berated you earlier for the sake of his (sadistic boner) pleasure.

he hums softly, massaging areas he might've bent or gripped too hard. if he doesn't feel like changing the sheets, he'll lay down a comfortable towel and some blankets, lightly teasing about how good you look in his clothes.

suo always makes sure to check up on your mental state once the physical portion of aftercare is done—asking a couple of questions and giving a few encouraging and, or loving words.

"i didn't go too hard did i?"

"remember, always use your safeword if it feels like its too much."

"i love you, sweetheart. i want you to always remember that."

there's no shortage of kisses and little rubs once the both of you relax. he gives the sweetest cuddles and makes sure you're asleep before falling asleep himself. he is without a doubt, the biggest green flag and the biggest red flag you know. love him tho <3

note. this was longer than i intended it to be lmfao.

[lnfours]

"there you go. that's more like it." has been living rent free in my head at all times lately. he's so gorgeous and especially when he smiles/laughs 🥺 what about lando finding you beating yourself up after some kind of failure (plus points if it's an academic one) and cheers you up + the "there you go. that's more like it." when he successfully does so?

this clip has also been living in my head rent free, like i need him in so many different ways it's actually insane.

cleaning out my inbox

you knew you hadn't done well on the test when you had sat down to take it. no matter how much you had studied, nothing was sticking. it was like the topics on the page were going in one ear and out the other.

you tried not to let grades define you, tried your hardest to tell yourself that it was just one test, you'd be fine. everything was okay, it wasn't the end of the world.

he had noticed you were upset early on into the morning when he left to go train. you had sat on the couch under a blanket all day, switching between scrolling on your phone and watching your favorite movies, something you did when you were trying to cheer yourself up.

he had stopped at the flower shop on his way home, picking up the best bouquet they had and stopping at the corner store to grab your favorite snacks. he was determined to brighten your day, even if he didn't know the reason why you were so down, he didn't like seeing you upset. not in the slightest.

you heard the front door close, followed by his voice, "'m home!"

"in the kitchen!" you called back, standing at the pan on the stove. he walked into the room, hands behind his back to try to conceal his gifts. he walked up behind you, placing a kiss on your cheek, "whatcha making?"

"well, it was supposed to be stir fry," you said, poking around the ingredients in the pan, "but i don't think it's turned out."

he grabbed the spoon from your hands, lifting it to his mouth and blowing on it before eating it. you watched him, searching his facial features for an answer. when he scrunched his nose, you sighed heavily.

"damn it!" you were frustrated. why couldn't things go right? just for once?

he placed the spoon down, turning the burner off under the pan, "hey, hey," he said, watching you lean on the counter with your head in your hands, "it's okay, it's fine, it's salvageable."

he placed a hand on your back as you tried your hardest to fight off the tears welling up in your eyes. he placed a hand on your back comfortingly, "hey, pretty girl," he said, rubbing your back softly, "can you look at me?"

you sat up, turning around to face him as your back pressed into the counter. you bit down on your lower lip as he wiped the tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, "what's wrong, honey?"

"i just can't do anything right," you said shakily, "i failed my test the other day, i can't make stir fry. i feel so dumb, like what else can't i do?"

"that doesn't mean you aren't capable of doing something," he said, "we all fail, but we get back up, don't we? it's part of learning, part of growing."

he was right and you knew it, but you still had to resist the urge to feel like you were a complete and utter failure.

"you're the smartest person i've ever met," he said, "no matter what you always continue to amaze me. don't ever doubt, not even for a second, that you're something you're not."

you nodded at him, leaning into his touch on your cheek, "'m sorry,"

"don't apologize," he said, "we all need to hear it again once in a while."

you smiled, eyes traveling down to where his arm was still hidden behind his back, "what've you got there?"

he smirked, "you only get to see if you say you're smart."

you huffed with a smile, laughing softly, "i'm smart."

"there you go, that's more like it," he said, holding the bouquet and bag of snacks between the two of you, "saw these and thought they'd make your day better."

you smiled up at your boyfriend, your heart clenching in your chest. you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. he kissed you back sweetly, the kiss turning hungry when he placed the flowers and bag on the counter, hands finding your hips instead. he lifted you up on the counter, standing between your legs, lips brushing against yours as he spoke, "i love you."

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part nine)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.6k summary: an album release forces some feelings and conversations — one thing's for sure though, Eddie will always be thinking about you.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of blackmail — if i missed anything in this chapter, 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

“We are here this morning with a true music icon in the making, who’s hits like Compromising Positions and most recently Honesty took the world by storm. Now, Eddie Munson is just a few short days away from releasing his sophomore album with his Corroded Coffin bandmates, Assistance is Futile. Welcome to Eddie Munson everybody, yes!”

“Happy to be here, Charles.”

Good Morning America was definitely not the type of talk show the rockstar pictured himself ever getting invited on. He didn’t think his personal style, or the music he was putting out there with the band, would be something the producers would welcome. Considering especially the whole thing was televised live. No cuts, no edits, no take backs. Whatever is said remains out there forever. Quoted and interpreted until the next schmuck makes a fool of himself.

Hosts, Charles Gibson and Joan Lunden, were also known to be quite blunt with their guests. Blunt, but not in the rude sense of the word. Given their history on the network, their experience, they're simply good at what they do, which sometimes means effortlessly picking at a topic until they get a satisfactory reaction or better yet, television worthy answer. Of course there’s always a list of pre-agreed questions, carefully discussed with management and PR teams, but things have known to… slip out.

But Marianne trained him. Extensively. She flew out to New York the second this interview was arranged and spent hours in Eddie’s penthouse hotel room going over details that to most people, people not from this world, may seem minor: how to sit, how to smile, what to laugh at, the amount of seconds it should take him to answer a question. The list goes on. And now she was here, at the studio, to make sure Eddie saw a friendly face in the crowd. Someone to look at in case he got flustered at any point during the fifteen minute round.

“Before we get into the nitty gritty,” Joan begins, crossing one knee over the other, “Eddie, why don’t you tell us a little about how you and the band first got started?”

So Eddie talks. He’s charming as he tells the story, sparing a few details ‘cause he knows he doesn’t have a lot of time. He does however, crack a few jokes, including one about the list of names Gareth and Jeff brought to him one night before they all agreed on Corroded Coffin. Charles laughs before asking the next question about the band's success so far, and what he makes of it.

“Oh man, it’s so insane,” Eddie answers truthfully, “I still have days where I don’t think any of this is real. All of us in the band feel incredibly lucky, for sure.” He nods along as he speaks.

Joan and Charles take turns asking a few more general questions about the band plus the other members who couldn’t make it out today, before settling on the whole reason Eddie agreed to do this interview in the first place: promotion for the new album.

Assistance is Futile was a collection of songs about you — but that was not going to be an answer he gives today, accidentally or otherwise. Instead, the rockstar focuses attention on how the record was built. Technical language that he dumbs down slightly to make sure he’s continuously captivating his audience (Marianne’s advice). He tells them what instruments the group played around with that may not have featured on their last album, which was more classic rock than this new project. And he’s excited as he talks. Passionate.

He continues to lay out the facts. List the number of tracks it features, eleven plus two bonus songs on the extended version. He talks about the writing process, still carefully avoiding mentioning the influence. He won’t say he wrote them all during the aftermath of your breakup. He hasn’t even admitted that to you, despite the fact that you spent every waking moment together since the afternoon at Cove City Sound Studios. He knows he won’t be able to hide that for much longer, but until the album comes out and you hear the songs for yourself, he’ll keep it to himself because things have been so… great.

Sure, things weren’t back to normal. It can’t be the way it was until Eddie finds the time to speak with your management and nip this whole evil grandmother blackmail thing in the bud. At least he’s got you in some capacity. He gets to talk to you again, laugh with you. He gets to hug you, kiss you, touch you. Friends with benefits, or whatever the term is. Eddie’s just glad to be around you.

“Now, here at the studio, we got an exclusive, sneak peak listen to Assistance is Futile, and there’s a little bit of speculation between the crew about the meaning behind some of the songs.”

Boom. There it is. The dreaded topic. And it was going so well.

“Care to share where the inspiration for these lyrics struck you? Who, in particular, they might be about?”

Eddie smiles. “Give into the charade”, Marianne’s words ring in his ears, “But by any means, don’t confirm their suspicions”. Not an easy task. A slippery slope by all accounts. He ever so slightly glances in the direction of his manager who nods her head to show encouragement.

“Who do you think they’re about, Joan?” Eddie bounces the question back.

The presenter smiles. She knows she shouldn’t say. Yes, it would be good for ratings, but bringing up your name is not something that can be done lightly. She knows that. Hence why Joan hoped Eddie Munson wouldn’t be smart enough to avoid the initial question. But the rockstar’s been trained and he’s not about to mess up with two minutes to spare.

“Well, I’d say my friend Charles here. He’s got, what was that one lyric, legs for days and a wicked smile.” Joan deflects. Ever the professional.

The whole studio starts laughing. Eddie joins in, satisfied with the way this worked out. 

“You’d be right on the money there, Joan.” The rockstar nods with a wide smile before continuing, “Charles Gibson has been a constant inspiration for Corroded Coffin songs. There’s not a lot to do in Hawkins, where we grew up. Gotta write what you know and my uncle has an affinity for this show.” 

He turns to the camera to say hi to Wayne, “I know you’re watching.”

Then shifts to look at the hosts once more, winking at the gentleman sitting across from him.

“Charles, you sexy devil, you.”

The laughter continues. People start to clap, whistle along to Eddie’s perfectly curated response. Marianne is beaming with pride because for a brief moment, she didn’t think he could do it. There've been so many mishaps in the past, wild things the band — the curly-haired frontman in particular — have done that she’s had to either smooth over with the media or keep hidden from the public altogether. This morning she finally exhaled. He did well.

You’re laughing too. Feeling proud too as you watch him through your television screen, just like you promised Eddie you would.

Blanket covering your body, all the way up to your chin, as you sit comfortably on the couch. The smile on your face is as genuine as they come. He’s so good at this. Considering how nervous he was, how much time he spent with Marianne going over every possible scenario until his head hurt. You took a mental note to tell him later that he really had nothing to worry about. He’s a natural.

The question about his inspiration for the album didn’t surprise you. It’s pretty standard for these types of press junkets. Even more given the fact your relationship has been the talk of the town for months, especially when the two of you weren’t even together. People love to speculate.

When Eddie told you about the upcoming album, one night after you came down from another intense orgasm, you assumed he wrote about your relationship — especially the failures. Honesty came to the rockstar after only one night. Makes sense that a complete record would be next. He didn’t confirm it though, because you didn’t ask. You would know once it came out, when you purchased your own copy to listen through. Artists supporting artists, and whatnot.

“Corroded Coffin’s Assistance is Futile. Coming to a record store near you, this Thursday, October 14.” Charles Gibson announces, holding up a shiny compact disc to one of the cameras, showing off the album’s cover art: a thundering night sky, with something sinister looming inside the blood red clouds. An ode to the band's Dungeons & Dragons days.

“Eddie Munson, thank you for your time today.” Joan Lunden flashes a pearly white smile.

The rockstar returns the expression. “Thank you for having me.”

Backstage, Eddie gives Marianne a big hug. Thanking her for being here. While returning the embrace, she reassures him that’s never going to change. “Or at least until the contract ends,” his manager teases and ruffles his already wild hair before sitting down on the velvet sofa.

“So, tell me, am I flying back to LA alone?”

Eddie picks up a bag of previously opened Funyuns before leaning against the vanity. He shuffles the remainder of the onion-flavoured corn chips inside the plastic, then starts eating them, one by one.

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging as if it was an obvious answer. “We’ve got the release party for the album. The guys would kill me if I missed it.”

“I’d kill you first.”

He smirks. “Then why ask me the question?”

Marianne gives him a pointed look. One that says, no, screams, he of all people should know why. Eddie got on a private plane to New York so he could “sort something out”, then ended up staying for weeks longer than intended with no explanation. Marianne called him at the hotel multiple times, asking for a return day, but he always gave a vague answer. Then Gareth called, as did Jeff (who sort of already suspected the reason for the delayed homecoming, kudos to Holly), but Eddie continued on the road of avoidance, all while Page Six posted about sightings of him with a certain pop sensation.

“Eddie, you haven’t been this happy since—”

“I know,” he interrupts, “I know and yes, to whatever you’re thinking, but I don’t wanna talk about it now because there’s something I need to do first.”

“What do you need to do?” She asks, puzzled because in the time they’ve worked together, the rockstar has never once left her out of action. She did everything for him. That was her job. One she did gladly because she’s grown to care for these boys.

Eddie sighs, wiping his crumb covered hands on the material of his trousers. The bag of chips lays empty on the table next to him. Of course he contemplated telling Marianne everything on multiple occasions, but each time he chickened out at the last minute. He knew she could fix everything in the blink of an eye. Simply, the rockstar just didn’t feel worthy of that. 

His entire life, Eddie ran away. From situations, from people, from feelings. Anything that was messy, or just became messy. He ran until the distance felt comfortable enough to continue with his life. Growing up in Hawkins, he didn’t have a Marianne. He didn’t have anyone that would stand up for him, so running became second nature. Running fixed his problems. 

By the time the band hit stardom, running turned to escapism in the form of drugs and alcohol. The bubble. Under the influence, the rockstar didn’t care who cleaned up after him and Marianne was so good at her job that most of the time, Eddie didn’t even know there was a problem to run from until it was resolved.

The situation with your grandmother however, was different. It involved you. 

He gave into his instincts and ran. Only this time, Eddie ran to protect you. Threats were made to potentially ruin your career — fucked up, considering the person that made them was also the person who helped kick-start your fame. And as selfish as he may seem to people that don’t know the real him, the rockstar wasn’t willing to gamble everything you built for yourself. He ran.

But Eddie was done running. He was going to fix this and he planned on doing it alone.

“What’s going on?” Marianne stands and takes a step closer, crossing her arms. Concern is starting to fill her veins, though she’s trying her best not to show it. Trying and failing.

Maybe solving this alone wasn’t the way to go.

“Someone’s been blackmailing me,” he admits eventually, reluctantly. 

“What?!” Marianne just about shouts. “Who? For how long?”

“It’s uh…. It’s a complicated story.”

“Well, fuck.” She’s slightly annoyed ‘cause how could he have hidden something like this from her? This is why the band has her. Managing them, planning shit to maintain their career is only a small part of her job. Protecting these boys is a priority and blackmail is a big fucking deal.

Exhaling, Marianne lets her arms drop and proceeds to take a much less confrontational stance. 

“Eddie, you know I’ve always got nothing but time for you, so spill.”

And he does. Starting right at the beginning with Chrissy Cunningham.

-

When Eddie stops by your place later that afternoon, he kisses you, the second you open up your apartment. He kisses you fully, deeply. He’s kicking the door closed with his boot, lips continually locked together, his hands holding you firmly by the waist. A man on a mission and the mission being to make you feel like you're floating all the damn time. 

You smile against his soft lips. Mission accomplished.

“That’s one way to say hello.”

“Hello,” he whispers back, also smiling. “How was your morning?”

“Not nearly as interesting as yours,” you answer his question and turn in your spot, wanting to lead him to the couch. Eddie’s hands remain on your waist as you do so, no inclination of letting go.

MTV is on. The wild-haired rockstar instantly feels at home — a stark contrast to that first night he showed up at your door. Adrenaline pumping. Unsure of the outcome. But it was better than he could’ve imagined, dreamed. Back in your arms with little to no arguments. Back where he for sure belonged.

Honesty comes on. The video makes him smile as he effortlessly pulls your legs over his thighs, hand settling on your soft flesh and giving it a gentle squeeze. The memory of that day with you on set. Eddie wouldn’t call it acting. Hugging you, kissing you on camera. Not a tough act. Natural, actually. That was a good day. You’re thinking it too.

“Magnetic.”

“Huh?”

Eddie can’t tear his eyes away from the screen. “You’re magnetic. Utterly. I almost forgot, but I didn’t really, you know? I-I think about that day often and how much fun it was,” he rambles. It’s sweet. 

“But what I replay in my mind the most is how fucking talented you are, sweetheart. A goddess in front of a camera, I swear.”

You smirk, your own mind flying to something much, much dirtier than what Eddie meant, and he flicks your leg at the institution, all while glancing at you from the corner of his brown eyes. Because there was a video camera left under the rockstars California King bed with a tape inside, a tape that could get you both — although the sexist industry you’re lucky to be a part of would blame only you, mainly — in a lot of trouble, if it ever saw the light of day. A tape for private eyes only. And Eddie wasn’t wrong, you were near damn a goddess.

“Wish we could work together again,” he says, then quickly adds, “Professionally, sweetheart, before you get any kinky ideas.”

That makes you laugh.

“Think you should focus on the album the band is about to release, hotshot. Once that’s a sure hit, then we can talk about doing something together.”

“Well, there is a box in my room, back in LA, with notebooks full of songs…”

He’s trying to be encouraging. Motivational. Really what Eddie’s doing is building up the courage to ask you to go back to Los Angeles with him. In a complete roundabout way, to be honest. The guys would call him a pussy. He was being a pussy. There was however, a lot he still needed to tell you. This whole thing with your grandma, for one. But Marianne was handling that now, and once she gave him the agreed upon sign, there was nothing stopping Eddie from screaming he loves you from all available rooftops — which he hoped to do for the first time at the place you two officially met. 

And with his manager on the case, he knew it would be sooner rather than later.

“Eddie, you’re a dumbass.” Marianne states. There’s a frown on her face, but it’s not serious. Accompanied by a smile that’s giving him a little bit of hope.

“I know—”

“No,” she interrupts, “You don’t.” 

He exhales. “I do, though.”

“Eddie. If you came to me when this first happened, you would’ve never lost all this time with Little Miss Perfect. The fact that you didn’t, the fact that you didn’t trust me with this information, makes you a dumbass.”

“So, you can fix this?”

“There’s a little thing called a Cease and Desist,” Marianne says as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. And in a way, it is. “No one is going to threaten the career of my favourite client and get away with it.”

Eddie smiles. Genuinely. Something reminiscent of relief is flowing through his body, down to the tips of his toes, until he no longer feels heavy. The burden of this situation is slowly lifting.

“With your permission, I’d like to approach her team with this information. They’ll most likely also issue a cease and desist, so that her career is also protected.” Marianne says. “But I guess since all you’ve tried to do is keep her out of harm’s way, the only way you knew how, I’m assuming I have your permission without even asking for it?”

“Yes, yes, thank you.” He’s repeating over and over and over, wrapping his arms around Marianne. A hug they’d both cherish forever.

“Like I said, let’s get you to survive this record release first, okay?”

You’re looking at each other now.

“Take it day by day, Eds.”

“What if I want to skip ahead?”

There’s a lot hiding behind that question. The future is uncertain in many ways. He knows that he wants you, you know that you want him. That’s enough, but at the same time it isn’t. Day by day is easier than thinking about tomorrow, or the next day. He just loves you, which he’ll tell you soon. That’s what he wants to skip too.

On the other hand, you’re terrified. Giving into him again brought no shortage of anxiety about his past behaviour. Eddie Munson hurt you, twice. Second time worse than the first. You forgave him, yet the fear was still there. The question remained: what if he did it again? He wouldn’t, but what if he did? So taking it day by day, as it came, was easier. A shield, of sorts. Protection against hurt. 

Also, it was a lot more fun to act without consequence. To just be. 

Existing with him felt almost normal, even though there was nothing normal about the various interviews and photoshoots the rockstar has been doing promoting Assistance is Futile while in New York, or the long phone calls with his manager and bandmates in preparation for the release party. Nothing normal about your own career, which you’ve slowly been defrosting following the short heartbreak hiatus. Pivoting slightly towards acting as a new form of expression. So you’re reading scripts, rehearsing lines. All without expectations. Day by day.

“Skipping ahead means you, going back to LA for the release party,” you point out.

“You could come with me. The invitation is there, you know that.”

“There’s nothing I’d want more than to be there for you and the guys, Eddie, you know that.” You lean in closer, pressing your body weight into his. “But if I make an appearance, it will overshadow the album you worked really hard on and that’s not fair.”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, pressing his lips to the side of your head, leaving a soft kiss while inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. He slowly nods against you, understanding your point of view.

“So we won’t see each other for a while then, huh?”

“Well, I got that recurring part in Law & Order which is filming here, so that’s a couple of months, at least, that I’ll be stuck here in New York.”

“I can visit,” he jumps in almost instantly, “And you, maybe… You can come out to see me whenever you have breaks in filming?”

“Sounds good, Eds.”

There’s a moment of silence. It shifts towards the heavy side. Eddie’s biting his tongue. He wants so badly to tell you everything he’s been keeping secret, but he knows it’s not a good idea until Marianne confirms she’s consulted your team and the cease and desist letters have been sent out. He’s just not ready to say goodbye yet. Not even for a little while. He just got you back. You’re also lost in thought. Reuniting with the Corroded Coffin frontman has been nothing short of a rollercoaster, in the best way possible. Having him here, next to you once more, kissing and touching you. And you know it was limited. That time would come knocking and he’d have to go back, while you’d need to stay. Bittersweet would be the word to describe how you feel. 

“How about we focus on right now, hm?” You offer, lifting your head so that your sweet gaze catches his chocolate one. Then a short inhale later, you kiss him. Gentle, at first, although not quite a peck. His eyes close on impact as his hand reaches for your face, attaching itself like a magnet. Cradling, squeezing your cheeks. 

And you smile. Fucking smile. Eddie loves it when you smile while kissing him. It drives him crazy knowing his touch makes you that happy. So he can’t help but smile too. Teeth knocking against each other in the process. 

“I’ll never get tired of kissing you,” the rockstar admits.

“I’ll never get tired of kissing you, Eddie Munson.” 

The hand that held his toned abdomen just a mere second ago is now not so innocently sliding in a downward trajectory. You fiddle with his leather belt, unbuckling it rather effortlessly with one hand after you press your lips against his once more. Deeper this time. Wanting.

“But distracting me from a conversation about what’s mph… next,” he mumbles as you tug at his zipper. You’re not giving him a chance to breathe. “Isn’t going to - Jesus - work.”

“Okay,” you’re teasing. It’s a whisper and Eddie’s brain short circuits ‘cause your perfectly manicured fingers are sliding into his boxers, reaching for his semi.

-

“So, you guys are like back together now, huh?” 

Steve’s question lingers in the air for a moment. He’s glancing at his small-town friend turned worldwide phenomenon from across the table, swirling black coffee in his takeaway cup.

Eddie looks out the window at the clouds passing by. 

After getting over his initial fear of flying, since he hadn’t been on a plane until his early twenties, the rockstar decided he enjoyed it a lot more than he thought he would. Things were peaceful up here — especially since he could now afford private jets. Just him and his guitar. Even when he travelled together with the guys, they all got lost in their own thing too, as did Marianne.

The upcoming release party however, prompted an invite to his little sister as well as Steve. So he knew that unfortunately this trip wasn’t going to be a quiet one.

“Something like that,” Eddie answers, turning his attention back to his friend.

Harrington nods. “That’s good, man. She’s great.”

“That she is.” Eddie fails to contain a smile.

“I’m happy for you.” Steve’s words are genuine.

“Thanks, dude.”

The short exchange is interrupted by Max’s snort. The two boys look at the redhead currently splayed out on one of the recliner seats. A book in her lap, one that she’s not really reading, but she’s keeping up appearances anyway.

“To think we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my genius,” she retorts, a smirk now present on her face.

Eddie laughs lightly, but doesn’t say anything. He’s looking out the window again. His mind turns to you. He misses you, even though he saw you not even a half hour ago when you said goodbye before he got on the plane. He misses you. Anxiety building since neither of you are really sure when you’d be able to see each other next. “And that’s okay,” is what you said to him in between soft kisses. He’s repeating it now.

“She’s not coming to the party, right?” Red asks her older brother, briefly breaking Eddie away from his thoughts. 

The rockstar shakes his head. “No.”

“You’ll see her soon,” his sister reassures, reaching for his forearm across the aisle, squeezing. 

“I know, I know.” 

“Then why the sad face?” Steve points out.

Eddie wishes he was alone. Then no one would be questioning him, even though he knows it’s coming from a good place. They just care, he tries to level his emotions, they’re asking because they care.

“Our last goodbye wasn’t so good,” he answers plainly.

Luckily both Max and Steve understand. They exchange a glance between themselves before returning to whatever activity they were engaging in prior to the start of this conversation: Red buries her head in the book she wasn’t really reading and Harrington resumes listening to music on his Walkman.

Eddie is once again glancing out the small jet window. He’s once again thinking about you. 

And he continues to think about you when the plane lands. In the car, on the way to his Hidden Hills home. He continues to think about you when the house fills with people that are there to style him for the release party. He’s making small talk, his mind still centred on you.

You remain the centre of his attention, even when Eddie and the band arrive at the venue, and he’s being ripped ten thousand different directions. Picture here, sign this, talk to this person. He enjoys a drink and he’s still thinking about you. He’s wishing you were here. 

The guys are introduced to come up on stage and even though Eddie is on cloud nine for this release, super proud of the record they put together, he’s wishing you were here to celebrate this with him.

He thinks about you as he sings one of the songs. Breaking News — a song about you, of course.

There comes a point during the night, a split second during which Eddie stops thinking about you. Not for any particular reason. Nothing spectacular happens for him to do so, he just… does. But it’s only a fleeting moment. He regrets it as soon as he realises. He especially regrets it when Marianne approaches him, a concerned look spread across her usually composed features — although the rockstar doesn’t pick up on her expression immediately.

“What did you think of the performance?” Eddie asks, smiling wide.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she reaches for the half-empty glass in his hand and sets it aside before exhaling a sigh.

He furrows his brows, the smile fading as quickly as it appeared.

“Eddie, there’s been an accident.”

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 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie, @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @ohmeg , @hereforshmut , @eg-dr3amer3 (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

[alesbianperson]

bully!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: Ever since that project that you both worked on, shes been unreasonably mean to you and you have no idea why.

warnings: mean ellie (not really extreme tho); implied football player!ellie; some swear words

authors note: this is my first attempt to write in like 2 years and just half proofread and english isn't my first language (cliché, i know), so i apologise for any context or grammar mistakes

--☆--

You loved going to school. You were nice to everyone, and everyone liked you. Even the mean teachers. However, there was one person who could not stand you, and you didn't even know the reason. She was just being unreasonably mean to you since that one project.

4 years earlier

Your biology teacher just announced a partner project at which your classmates already began searching for their preferred partners. You turned to your best friend who just gave you a thumbs up, but before you could stand up and walk over to her, the teacher suddenly said: "Before you all get too exited, I already assigned the partners."

An annoyed sigh left your lips as you sat back down, already expecting the worst. Your teacher began to read the partners aloud while you sat with your fingers crossed, hoping you'd get assigned with your best friend.

Which did not happen. When only a few of your classmates were left, he finally said your name. "You will work with Ellie Williams." You sighed in relief. From what you've heard, she was pretty okay. Smart, too. So working with her wouldn't be a catastrophe. As the teacher began listing the topics that were available, you turned around to face Ellie, who was already looking at you. You flashed a smile at her, which she returned.

Within the next few days, you both mostly met up in the library to work. It was funny to work with her, plus the topic was really easy. You wouldn't really talk about anything other than the project, but Ellie somehow  always found a way to make some jokes referring to her interests and you couldn't help but laugh at every single one of them.

You both were finished very quickly and got an a for that project. Working with her was pretty fun, too. At least you thought that.

Ever since then, she began commenting on everything you did. When you'd ask something in class and the teacher answered, she'd chuckle and say something like "obviously." When you both crossed paths in the hallway, she'd make sure to talk about you to her friends and let you hear it. When you'd be studying in the library with your headphones on, she'd come up to you, lift them up on one ear, and let them snap back on before simply leaving again, or closing your books and mess up your notes.

All that with no explanation. And it drove you completely insane.

Present day

"Williams! Keep up!" The coach yelled across the field. You stood right beside him, holding the second football they needed for training earlier. Your brother had said this was a great 'side job' idea, but until now, it was kinda boring and exhausting to follow the coaches' unnecessary tasks. Plus, Ellie was in the team, and you couldn't ignore the feeling that she'd say something to embarres you any moment.

"So," the coach turned to you, "practise is almost over, bring the stuff back into the storage room." You mentally rolled your eyes at his tone and the missing please, but quickly picked up everything and walked to the storage rooms. Without really motivation, you began to sort the things into the right drawers or shelves. Suddenly you heard footsteps, which came from outside. Probably the footballers, you thought, since the locker rooms were right beside this room, shifting your attention back to the agility ladders until you heard a familiar voice.

"Why's she suddenly here too? Shes making me lose my fucking mind." Ellie. You didn't have the nerve hearing her talk shit about you again, so you made your way to the door, but the next thing that was said made you freeze. "Then go talk to her. Tell her how you feel. It can't get any worse than this." That was Jesse's voice. You knew him from one of your classes and as one of Ellies best friends. He sometimes apologised for Ellies behaviour when he was with her. "I can't. What if she's grossed out? She'll never even look in my direction again." You were confused. All these comments because Ellie was scared that you didnt like her? Your thoughts were interrupted by Jesse. "But getting her attention through bullying is better?" A short silence. "At least she looks at me. She notices me. Every time I walk into a room she's in, her attention is on me. You don't understand. I need it." More silence.

You needed a second to process what you just heard, and you still couldn't really believe it. Ellie Williams, the one girl you were one hundred percent sure hated every bit of you, suddenly liked you.

"Yeah, whatever." You heard Jesse say before you heard him walk off. After waiting a few seconds, you tried to move as quiet as possible because you weren't sure if Ellie was still standing outside the door. But before you could make that sure, you bumped into the shelf behind you, which caused a loud sound. "Is there anyone?" You heard Ellie ask and froze. fuck, you thought, looking for another door you could exit through.

The door suddenly opened, and you were met with the green eyes of Ellie. As she realised it was you, she went pale. "You.. heard all that?"

[l5byrinth]

fortnight

“and i love you, it's ruining my life”

pairing: nikolas omilana x reader

summary: in which niko avoids you for a certain reason, and at some point you can’t take it any longer.

requested

a/n: hii everyone i’m back from the dead like i always am every few months!!! school has been draining, but one night i got this motivation and managed to write this, hope you like it <3 btw i know i should be finishing of the hunger games requests, but there are so little fics on here for the beta squad members and the motivation just got to me when watching a video.

also pleaseeeee start requesting more beta squad, not just niko because there aren’t many fics for these amazing men

NIKO never knew what it was like to be so infuriated by someone, it caused restless nights. To be so head over heels, that all your thoughts were consumed by only that person. That was until Niko met you. The way you had him wrapped around your finger, without you even noticing or trying, was something he never understood. But it was you, how could he not be?

The famous youtuber also didn’t know what it was like to love someone that wasn’t his. Someone not meant for him.

He had respect for your relationship, of course, he wasn’t one to mingle and make things worse. Especially since your boyfriend was one of the best ones you’ve had. However, the mere thought of you drove him absolutely insane and he wasn’t sure for how much longer he could bear it anymore.

You were happy, though, and he didn’t want to be the reason that would be ruined.

So he avoided you like the plague. Leaving every room you entered, switching the topic whenever you were mentioned, trying to keep his eyes from wandering off to where you were standing. It was killing him, but if it meant keeping you happy, he didn’t mind the torture one tiny bit.

Niko hadn��t told anyone about what he felt for you, he would take it to his grave, that’s for sure. Yet, he was more obvious than he thought he was, since he’s noticed the sympathetic looks his friends gave him whenever you were around. Numerous times. It didn’t matter, it’s not like you were ever going to find out and that’s all that really mattered.

After Niko had arrived back at his apartment, he was surprised to hear not a single sound being made. Knowing Aj, he would always either be gaming and yelling for the whole neighbourhood to hear or edit a video with the volume on to the max.

After checking a few rooms for where his roommate was, he got a call from Aj himself.

“Where are you, you rat?” Niko questioned, not even bothering to greet him. Aj let out a laugh on the other line, “Missing me now, are you? Giraffe.”

Niko rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile forming on his face, “Ha ha, hilarious.”

“Anyway, I’m at Chunkz’ right now.”

And after conversing for a few minutes, discussing everything and nothing, they ended the call. The tall guy let out a loud sigh, as he sat down on the sofa, turning on the tv to watch anything that came up first. However, just when he was about to push the button of the remote, the doorbell rang.

Niko was confused to say the least, but didn’t expect much of it. It was probably one of his friends needing something from him.

When Niko opened the door, however, he wished he didn’t. His heart dropped to his stomach, his breath hitching in his throat. That was the effect you had on him. Your hair was messed up quite a bit, your lips forming a pout as you looked at him. Oh, how he had to restrain all the power in him not to kiss that pout away.

A soft call of your name left his lips, as if he was terrified it was just a hallucination. “Niko,” Your voice was stern, yet there was some kind of sadness to it. And without saying another word, you entered the apartment as if you owned the place.

When you walked past him, your scent wafted into his nostrils and he took it in. He closed his eyes, not wanting to lose control and confess the second he turned around and looked at you again. Niko closed the door, taking his sweet time going to you. You were pacing back and forth in the living space of the apartment, your eyebrows furrowed and face filled with worry.

“What’s wrong?” Niko questioned, earning a rather unbelievable scoff from you. When you stopped pacing and moved closer to him, Niko took back a step, making you even more frustrated than you were before. “You’re asking me what’s wrong? I should ask you!” You couldn’t comprehend why the closest friend you had ever had, wasn’t present in your life anymore. The minute your feet took a step closer to him, he backed away once more, “Look! What’s this? Why are you avoiding me?”

You were absolutely fuming to put it lightly. What was he doing?

His gaze fell down to the floor, because if he would look at you right now, he knew he would ruin things even more. “I don’t get it, Niko…” Your voice was dripping with desperation, but you couldn’t care less at the minute, only interested in whatever was going between the two of you.

Another step closer, but this time he didn’t budge, his eyes stuck to the ground. But when you said his name so sweetly, who could blame him when he averted his gaze to meet yours. The question that left your lips, made the guilt sink inside of him, “What did I do wrong?”

However he didn’t cave in. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t, no matter how tempting the thought of you being his seemed right now.

“Niko, please. Talk to me!”

Silence, once again.

“Nik-“

“I can’t talk, please don’t make me.” His whisper was barely audible, but still loud enough for you to hear. “Why not, huh? Are you just going to ignore me like you have done for the past couple of-“

“I have to! I never wanted for this to happen.”

The tone in his voice took you by surprise, your eyes searching his for a more clear answer, “What are you talking about?”

“You think I wanted for all of this to happen? Of course not!” He started, and he regretted everything he said after, “I couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help to feel at home with you, couldn’t help but feel as if you are the only one in this universe.”

His gaze was burning into yours, “I couldn’t help but fall in love with you.”

Something fluttered unwantedly in your chest, followed by your breath hitching in your throat. Niko’s in love with you?

“You… what?”

“I fell for you, hard and painfully so. I’m sorry, okay? It happened one way or another and now you’re the one consuming my thoughts and dreams. I care for you and love you so deeply, it hurts me to stay away from you. But I did what’s best and will continue doing so.” He rambled, never noticing how you were still hung up on the first sentence he uttered.

But when you met his gaze once more, and saw the spark in his eyes when he looked at you, you wondered how you could’ve been so blind. “Now, please, leave before I do something both of us will regret.” Niko warned firmly.

You were stood there absolutely speechless, but came back to earth quickly, when you realised your boyfriend was waiting for you outside.

[graysexualcreature]

before i go into this post i should be specific: i am a matpat fan. i have watched matpat for a long time. therefore, i am an inherently biased perspective.

something i will never understand is the visceral hate for matpat. like mfs will act like they have the biggest slam dunk ever and then pull out something from 10 years ago. like yes there was some questionable stuff back then but people can change as time moves forward. bro is just living his life you don’t have to like his theories you don’t have to watch his videos nobody is sitting you down and tying you to a chair and forcing you to watch his videos. you dont have to make up reasons that you hate him you dont have to go digging for old shit. you also dont have to viscerally hate him because he made a theory and got it wrong i fucking guarantee if he was a much smaller creator nobody would be dogpiling him the way he gets dogpiled.

also: the people who think he is the only one who did the research and work for ALL OF THE THEORY CHANNELS for YEARS is just insane to me. I guarantee you he has a whole ass team for each channel he’s not doing this shit at lightning speed if you see something that looks like it might be a stolen theory then maybe you shouldn’t pin it on one member of an entire team. matpat does not have magic superpowers. calm the fuck down. when a car breaks down you don’t immediately blame the metal shell that surrounds the inner workings. matpat has mentioned MULTIPLE TIMES that scripts and theories are a multiple person effort that involves a lot of input from multiple people. His earlier videos are definitely different but when you look at something from more recent times and try to say that he is the sole creator you just sound fucking ridiculous.

people make mistakes. everybody makes mistakes, but when the internet comes into the equation and stuff gets preserved all of a sudden it’s as if everybody must be infallible as a human being.

also: the amount of rage people have towards him over theories is fucking insane im sorry. i understand being serious about a topic but putting visceral hatred onto a human being who is just as human as you are is not the answer. if the theory is that bad you can easily just change somebody who believes it's mind using evidence he's not some omnipotent being who is brainwashing people into liking his theories. If somebody isn't willing to listen to you then that's a them problem not a matpat problem. Also, this stuff does not matter when you step outside and enter the real world i guarantee nobody in the local park is going to be as worried abt video game theories as you are.

[drefear]

Tears Don't Fall (Bullet For My Valentine)

Let's go!

Katsuki Bakugou loved his wife more than anything. More than everything. So why? 

Why did he do that? 

Now she was on the ground of their home, their penthouse. Being a pro hero had given him the world, but she was his world and he did everything he could for her. Gave her diamonds and lavish clothing, spa trips and vacations. And in return, she had been loyal, given him two beautiful children and a lifetime of happiness. 

Why did he do that? 

He had no idea, but she was broken. He had broken her. Done the worst thing he could have possibly done and gotten caught. 

On a national fucking television site.

It was weeks ago, but it was just so much. A villain had targeted the school his kids went to and he didn’t get there until Midorya and Todoroki had, already working on getting survivors and victims out. He was lucky, his kids knew precautions and he had trained them on what to do, so they’d gotten out. 

But Midoriya’s… they weren’t as lucky. Midoriya had three, another on the way, and his middle child had gotten stuck between a falling piece of fire and a wall. 

Bakugou couldn’t stop playing Midorya’s face over and over again. He felt responsible for some reason, maybe if he’d gotten there on time then they’d have had enough hands to save all of those kids. Now he was on those stupid tubes and machines and Bakugou was crying at his desk. As he wrote the paperwork, his eyes wouldn’t stop smudging the black on his face. The only thing he wanted to do was hold his kids close at that moment. Hold his wife. 

With bloodshot eyes, I watch you sleeping The warmth I feel beside me is slowly fading Would she hear me if I called her name? Would she hold me if she knew my shame?

But he was stuck in this stupid fucking office, and when the secretary knocked on the door, he lost all restraint. Grabbed the edge of the desk, he flipped it and she shrieked. He quickly regained control and slammed the door shut, knowing it wouldn’t look good if his anger got out. He’d worked too hard to get that under control since high school, he wouldn’t let it get him now. 

And then she was close to him. That tiny stupid blonde that always fucked up his lunch. She didn’t make it like his perfect wife. 

But his hands were too shaky. He couldn’t sign what she had for him, he couldn’t see straight, he couldn’t-

He couldn’t push her away when she kissed him. He couldn’t stop when she touched him, held him. 

He needed comfort and he couldn’t stop anymore, he was too far gone, too high strung. 

There's always something different going wrong The path I walk's in the wrong direction There's always someone fucking hanging on Can anybody help me make things better?

A week later, a call came in through the telecoms of his office. 

“You have one week to get me 2 million dollars or that video plays on youtube.” His hands felt shaky again, and this time it wasn’t rage. It was fear. 

“I’ll have it to you in an hour, delete it immediately.” He said instantly. 

“An hour? Maybe I’m making this a bit too easy. How about 20?” 

“Do you want the money or for me to be scared? Because congrats, dumbass you did it. Delete it.” Bakugou was straining to not break the tiny office phone in his hands. His chest was heaving. 

“I want you to feel pain like I have. I want you to lose something.” 

Bakugou knew it. It was a sudden realization but he knew it. 

“Don’t. Please.” he begged and the laughter that came through was loud, strained. Insane. 

“Cmon now, Ground Zero! Don’t be so boring, you’re usually the life of the party!” 

Bakugou knew it would end with that stupid tape being public, but he didn’t think it would be this bad. 

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me Her conscience calls, the guilty to come home Your tears don't fall, they crash around me Her conscience calls, the guilty to come home

He saw it first when he was walking on patrol, someone glaring at him. He shrugged it off. Heroes were a controversial topic for everyone, he chalked it up to just that. He continued until he heard sounds. Pornigraphic sounds. Playing from that same person’s phone, he approached them. 

“Hey, you can’t be playing that shit-” 

“Ugh! Mr. Bakugou!” The phone sound rang out and his eyes fell to the screen they were previously looking at. It was a stupid little pink phone case, but he was on screen. And so was that blonde.  And he was running. Fast. He had to tell her before she found out like this. God, he knew he fucked up, he knew this was it, but he couldn’t let her find out from a fucking TMZ video.

The moments die, I hear no screaming The visions left inside me are slowly fading Would she hear me if I called her name? Would she hold me if she knew my shame?

Getting back to his office, he saw the blonde and sneered at her, then realizing she was bawling her eyes out. She must have seen, she was probably embarrassed. Young, dumb, she wasn’t in a good position either. He didn’t have time for her. He had to get home. Bakugou grabbed his clothing and bolted for his car. 

He sped. He didn’t care. His world was crumbling and he needed to at least make sure one last piece wasn’t completely shattered. The only piece that mattered to him.

There's always something different going wrong The path I walk's in the wrong direction There's always someone fucking hanging on Can anybody help me make things better?

When he got home, he recognized Midoriya’s car and rushed to the top floor, his home. “DEKU!” He shouted and looked around after bursting through the door, seeing Izuku standing casually dressed in his kitchen with his children in their pajamas. He was holding some food and his kids ran to Bakugou. 

“Daddy!” They smiled and hugged him, as he bent down to hold them back, but his eyes never left Izuku’s. And Izuku’s were just as focused, shooting daggers at him. He deserved it, but he needed her right now. 

“Go to your rooms, bratz.” He chidded and patted their backs as they went off, Izuku tucking one hand in his pocket. They stood in silence and then Bakugou heard it. 

Ururaka’s voice, Momo’s consoling, and his wife’s cries. A part of him was crushed, turned to dust that instant. He was too late. Again. His fists shook by his sides and then raked through his blonde spikey hair.

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me Her conscience calls, the guilty to come home

“Deku-”

“Just go. Go in there and look at what you did for yourself.” Izuku leaned back against the counter and looked at the ground. “Ochaco and I are taking the kids tonight. They don’t need to see this.” And with that, he headed towards Bakugou’s kid’s rooms. Bakugou couldn’t even speak, his throat was dry. 

And his feet moved towards his bedroom door. His body shuddered, tears already streaming down his eyes. Knocking at the door, Momo was the first to answer. She opened it and stared at him for a second, then moving aside and walking out of the room. 

“Ururaka, let’s go. It’s time.” Momo’s voice was quiet. Bakugou didn’t move as the women brushed past him without a glance, then hearing his kids leaving with the three other pro heroes. 

Once the door shut, he felt empty. It was time to face her. Face his mistakes, and own it. And accept her choice. 

He opened the door a crack and saw his greatest fear.

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me Her conscience calls, the guilty to come home

She was in a ball on the floor, still as beautiful and perfect as the day they met, but this time, heartbroken and small. Her hair was a knotted mess, clothes stained with tears, hugging her knees to her chest. She was holding something, but he couldn’t make it out in the dark. 

He made small steps towards her and got on his knees before her, just grabbing her and holding her close. He didn’t know if he would ever get to again. 

This battered room I've seen before The broken bones they heal no more, no more With my last breath I'm choking Will this ever end? I'm hoping My world is over one more time

“I’m sorry… I’m so fucking sorry…” He whispered over and over and over, her whimpering the only other sound. A moment of this and then her cries roared, like she was being tortured, and he flinched. His own tears were blurring everything for him, but he wasn’t going to stop trying. Not now, not ever. “Please, baby… please. I love you, I swear, I was just distracted and I couldn’t get to you, and I was guilty about Midoriya and I just wanted to get home and see you, but then she walked it and I lost it, I lost it-” He was rambling, much like that damn nerd, but not about quirks, about his own fucking mistakes. 

A crack sounded out through the room, echoing off the walls. His face was sore, her hand leaving a red imprint on his cheek. He stared at her and her face was a combination of horrified and sad beyond comparison. He just closed his eyes and sniffled. 

“Do it again.” 

“What?” She whispered. 

“Do it until you feel it’s just. Hit me, kick me, punch me, I don’t care, just don’t- don’t stop loving me.” His eyes went back to hers and her body crumbled under his. Her hands fell against his chest weakly and her eyes closed again, his hands moving to cradle her head.  “I- I can’t…” She answered and Bakugou felt happiness for a split second before her next words ruined it. “I’m trying to… But I can’t.” 

Would she hear me if I called her name? Would she hold me if she knew my shame?

His world was over, nothing mattered, and whoever took that video was going to die.  “C-Carry me to the shower… please… I can’t walk and I just- I just want to-”

“Shhh I got it.” He answered and picked her up as she asked, carrying her to the bathroom and sitting her on the tub. He saw what was in her hands now. It was his tie from their wedding night, and his heart ached again. He began to help her undress, seeing the bags under her eyes and how red and puffy they were from her salty tears, lips dry and split from crying. Her hair looked like she’d run her fingers through a million times, almost painfully so. He hated seeing her like this, not when a month ago, they were planning their ten year anniversary. She was like a doll, so small and fragile right now, porcelain in his big, calloused hands. Her body looked hollowed, like she hadn't eaten yet that day. He stayed quiet, turning on the water and feeling it until it was her comfortable level of warmth.

There's always something different going wrong The path I walk's in the wrong direction There's always someone fucking hanging on Can anybody help me make things better?

After a moment, he lifted her and let her settle in, moving to let her relax in peace. But something caught his hand, and he looked back down at the fragile woman in the tub. 

“Please… come in with me… I don’t want to be alone right now… I-I don’t have… the strength.” She mumbled and he sucked in a breath, pain surging through his veins. He hated this, but he would do anything she wanted. Forever. 

Removing his shirt, he felt the stress of the day hit him, muscles sore from work and then this all. He moved and took off his pants and underwear, shifting his weight and finally stepping in. He slid her forward slightly to sit her between his legs so he could hold her, cradle her as best he could. 

He felt her lean back and his hands moved to touch her skin, massage the ache she must have been having from sitting on the floor in a ball. He pushed the image away as he focused on kneading the woman’s tension. A comfortable sigh left her and he felt a swell of relief inside of him. This was… good, to say the least. They weren’t fighting, she didn’t hate him, and he was seeming to do almost everything right. He leaned his forehead to her temple and let his eyes close, feeling her reciprocate and nuzzle in closer. 

“Forgive me…” he whispered, “please… I can’t live without you.” 

“Katsuki…” Her voice cracked as she said his name, his hand brushing the wet hair stuck to her face behind her ear. “I want to… I do…” 

“Then I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this, to get you back, to keep you with me…” he answered, the rasp in his voice always soothing her, reminding her who she was talking to. “I love you too much to let myself ruin this…” She nodded at his words and he left a kiss on her temple, where his forehead had been, while a tear rolled down his cheek. 

After a bit of just silence in the bathtub, he got them both out and dry, then helped her change into pajamas and brushed her hair. He’d take care of her, make sure she didn’t do anything for herself. After that, he went to the kitchen and called his office.

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me Her conscience calls, the guilty to come home (tears don't fall) Your tears don't fall, they crash around me (conscience calls) Her conscience calls, the guilty to come

“I’m taking two weeks off. Fire the girl, make sure my next assistant is a man. Cancel everything in my calendar for the next few weeks. My phone is going off and it’s not turning back on until I get back. Understood?” 

“Bakugou,” he heard Sero’s voice, then a sigh and Kirirshima in the background, “do what you gotta do man, just don’t fuck it up again.” 

“Get her back, and man up to it, dude. I believe in you.” Kirirshima spoke after the other and there was a second of quiet. 

“Thank you guys. I owe you one for this. Really.” His grip on his cellphone tightened as he spoke and he knew they didn’t know how to react to his sensitive side. Only she did. “I’ve got to go.” He hung up and grabbed water and her favorite snack, chips and ketchup. It was so weird and gross and unnatural to him, but she loved it and he loved it because she loved it.

Going back into the bedroom, he put down the water and the bowl of chips, sitting across from her. 

“You need to eat something.” 

“I’m not hungry.” She whispered. 

“No, you’re depressed because I’m an ass, take one bite and I promise you’ll realize how hungry you are.” One bite turned into three into ten into the bowl, and soon it was empty. He brought it to the kitchen and went back to her, standing next to the bed. “I think- maybe I should sleep in the guest room.” 

“But… I’ll get cold…” she mumbled, “I mean, I just- I haven’t slept alone… in almost ten years…” His heart was jumping with joy. Holy shit, this was good. He nodded and moved to get in next to her. 

“I won’t touch you unless you-“ 

“Shut up, Katsuki.” She finally spoke directly and with volume, “just shut up.” And she pulled him close, head on his chest as she grabbed the light remote and hit a button, putting them in the pitch back darkness. He was stiff, a bit scared to move. His wife had never been a direct person, so gentle with her words and actions, but this made her really toughen up and set him straight. He relaxed and left a hand on her head, petting her hair and soon she was asleep. 

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me (conscience calls) Her conscience calls, the guilty to come home

Bakugou didn’t sleep at all. He was watching her the whole time, admiring her, praying that this would never end. And when she mumbled his name in her sleep and pulled him tighter to her, he knew. He would do everything for her. There was nothing in this world that could keep him from her, and he would make damn sure of that forever more. 

[amymbona]

What if Dilf!Art was put into the ballet instructor au?? Like After the tennis match that Art and Patrick had, that hugged confirmed a friendship again. Of course Art and Patrick retired, tired of the pressure tennis put on them, the pressure of being with Tashi. So Art and Patrick remained close friends, living close to each other, having their daughters be friends. When Patrick put Eleanor into ballet classes Art thought it would be good for Lily to something different than her dad and mom did. So both of the girls had ballet classes, being in the class, being taught by the same lovely ballet teacher. Now Patrick was the one who absolutely fell in love with her first, if we’re doing timelines. He talked about her to Art, and he really didn’t think anything of it, because he didn’t pay much attention, not when he would go picking up his happy daughter with her arms interlocked with Eleanor’s as they skipped towards him and Patrick. But when the ballet teacher spoke softly to Art about Lily’s improvements in ballet he immediately understood Patrick’s obsession. She was so soft and caring, so youthful, it was something Art definitely needed throughout his life. Art thought the same things Patrick did, that she was the one who could probably take away all of his problems, all of those days he’d eat such bland food for his tennis diet, pushing himself so he could make Tashi proud, doing anything for Tashi but nothing was ever enough, she wanted good tennis and he wanted love. (IM SORRY, I WANT BOTH MEN)

Okay so this is actually fucking insane 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁

You don't even notice their growing affection towards you, especially Art's. You've known Patrick for quite a while and so you're used to him being, how to say it... friendly. Really fucking friendly. Subtly touching you, complimenting the way you treat his darling daughter and make sure she gets to develop her talent.

And poor Art is feeling completely distressed, as if he wasn't capable of even half of whatever Patrick can do. He tries to joke with you and you respond equally as softly, even giggling at some of his silly jokes. He thinks you're an angel, but he's also afraid you like Patrick more. At least you don't make any decisions considering the kids, because you've been treating his Lily as if she was here since the beginning.

Art brings the topic of you once, when the boys are alone, which is the first time that it happens (as Patrick was usually the one to rant about you).

"She's really pretty."

"Who?" Patrick asks without looking up from his phone, probably thinking he's talking about some random celebrity.

"Lily and El's ballet teacher," Art mumbles.

Patrick teases the living hell out of Art that evening. And he makes sure to pay attention to his blonde friend's behaviour the next time they go to pick their girls up from practice. A pleasant discovery is made when Art stutters as he attempts to respond to something your say and his cheeks heat up like two full strawberries. Yeah, he makes fun of it.

But it also gets poor Patrick worried, considering everything that has happened over the last fifteen years... When Art got chosen by Tashi and favored by the whole tennis industry. The cutest one of the two. And considering your own softness and the ethereal aura of your being, he's thinking you might choose Art over him.

Without knowing or ever discussing it, the two friends become jealous of once another, or rather afraid, both of them finding themselves so deeply attached to you. Two confident men who used to be so smug and full of themselves are reduced to worried babies that can't help but feel neglected.

Luckily, their smart girls pick up on their dads' distress. Unaware of the reason, they play detectives and they dump their suspicionw on you. When you're talking with Art and Patrick the next time while the girls are changing in the locker rooms, you bring that topic up.

"The girls told me that you two have been having some issues. They said that you look worried. Is something going on?"

You speak to them like you're an angel sent from the heavens above, they really both want to drop to their knees and cry until you decide to be merciful enough and take them into your arms. The little frown of worry on your face and the crease between your brows are enough to send both of their hearts beating faster.

"Worried?" Patrick asks with a casual chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Do we look worried Art?"

You asshole, Art thinks, shooting his friend a glance. "I- I don't think so. Perhaps we're just getting older. A mid-life crisis, you know."

A giggle from your mouth gets them both to tremble on their feet.

"Okay, okay, I won't pry," you assure them with a nod and that beautiful smile of yours, "But if you feel like talking to someone, don't be afraid to reach out."

You pat both of their shoulders delicately, Art just ends up glancing at you with an open mouth as you move while Patrick has to physically prevent himself from grabbing you and stopping you from walking away.

Later in the evening, when their girls are asleep, they discuss your existence over the phone. Luckily, still on the best friend wavelength, they both come up with the same ideas. Somehow getting you close to them, closer than a normal ballet teacher should be to her students' parents, especially a father. Especially two fathers.

[shadedheart138]

You Don't Have To Be A Hero To Save The World

Wind has always known that he doesn't have the "Hero's Spirit" or whatever religious mumbo jumbo the older Links have talked about. He wasn't "Chosen". He'd wanted to save his sister and got dragged down to hell because of it.

Wind never liked talking about it. He didn't feel like he belonged when he did. So if you block it out, it doesn't exist, right? He was so so wrong.

The Links had a penchant for storytelling around the fire, and the topic of tonight's ramble was adventures, as always. But specifically, what started them. Wind pulled uneasily at the scars on his palms.

"What started your adventure, Four?" Hyrule asked, mouth half full of dinner. "I drew a sword and Zelda got kidnapped." Four said, adjusting their headband. "Figures." Legend mumbled quietly. "My adventure was st-" Warriors was cut of by Twilight. "We know it was some lady who was obsessed with you and started a war over it, Wars, we hear it every night." Twilight wasn't mean, just tired.

"What about you, Wind? What started your adventure?" Four asked, smiling encouragingly. Wind never really talked about his adventure (and for good reason.) "Did your Zelda get kidnapped too?" Legend's voice was joking.

"Um. No. My sister did, though. She got carried off by the Helmaroc King and I had to go save her. Tetra told me not to but Aryll's my sister. I couldn't just let her die there." Wind said quietly, still scratching at his scars.

The conversation ebbed and flowed, as Wind sort of lost himself in his head for a little while. He remembered meeting them all, not too long ago. Sky had been handing the Master Sword to everyone, to learn their hero titles. Wind had gone pale and refused to hold it, immediately making everyone suspicious. He had reluctantly given in in the end, and took the sword to hear his title. He'd nursed the burns on his hands in secret, for days after.

XXX

Later that night, as Wind was getting ready to go to bed, he heard the last remnants of conversation. "Who sent you on your journey, Time?" Time gave a small laugh and then said quietly, "A fairy." ...

"I volunteered." Wind called from across the clearing, pillow in his hand. Multiple heads turned to look at him. Why did he say that??? They weren't asking him. "You. What?" Legend asked, confused. Maybe Wind just felt the need to get it out there. "Volunteered. The King Of Red Lions needed me. I wasn't just going to leave him. Besides, the Wind Waker was kind of fun to play with." Legend came close to Wind and grabbed him by the shoulders. "You. WHAT." "Volun-?" "I heard you the first time! I meant why. Why would you volunteer for something like this??? Are you insane? Wind, why?"

"I told you! The King of Red Lions needed me! Outset needed me! I wasn't just going to sit there and twiddle my thumbs while people died!"

Legend gripped his own hair, eyes wide. "But kid, why? Was it just some wish for adventure, or some adrenaline kick? You coulda saved your sister and been done-?"

Wind stood up, little hands curled into fists, pulling at his scars.

"I volunteered for the rest, why are you so pent up about it? It was my own choice! I stepped up when no one would and went through hell to save my fucking sister and everyone else that mattered! It's not my fault your life sucks, because you're such an asshole half the time!! I'm not some dumb kid!" Wind kicked a rock and it ricocheted off the pot still over the fire. Legend flinched. And Wind turned on his heels and took off, screwing up his face and trying not to cry.

XXX

Wind was later found, sitting against a tree, by Sky. Wind was picking at his hands as Sky sat down, the crickets chirping everywhere.

"Are you alright?" Sky asked gently. "Legend is an ass." Wind mumbled, sniffling. "Sometimes. He means well. His adventure was very, very hard on his soul. He doesn't want you to have the same fate." "Still an ass." Wind mumbled, wiping at his eyes.

"It's a defense mechanism, if you will. Here, do you want Fi? She always makes me feel better." It took two seconds for Wind to scramble away, Legend momentarily forgotten. "No, no. No thank you. I don't want to touch that sword." Wind said, shaking his head. "Why not? Maybe she has advice for you- "I SAID I DON'T WANT TO TOUCH THE FUCKING SWORD!"

Wind slapped a hand over his own mouth, and then the other. His eyes welled with tears again and before he could get out any sort of apology, Sky was putting a hand on his shoulder. "Okay. Why, Wind? Why are you so against the Master Sword?" Sky asked, voice quiet. Ready to listen. Fi was his closest friend, so he wanted a reason. Wind shook. "She burns me." He whispered softly, clasping his hands together tightly. "And it hurts." "She what?" Sky's voice was incredulous. "Fi would never! She'd never burn someone with the Hero's S-" "I don't have it." "... What?" "The Hero's Spirit. I don't have it, because I'm a volunteer. I'm no one's successor, I don't have the bonds you guys do. My Hyrule is flooded, and I'm alone." Wind's voice cracked, and the words were not two seconds out of his mouth before Sky was bodily hugging him to his chest. "Hero's Spirit or not, someone's successor or not, you're still our brother, Wind. You always have a place here." Sky whispered, and Wind fisted his hands in Sky's sailcloth.

Wind pulled at the scars on his hands again, and Sky watched. He gently took Wind's small hands in his own, much bigger ones. "Are these the scars from handling the Master Sword? When you had to defeat Ganon?" Sky asked gently.

Wind nodded. "Stabbed him straight through the noggin." He laughed without any humor.

Sky pressed a kiss over each palm, like kissing a boo boo for a young child. Wind almost snatched his hands back. But before he could, Sky said, "We'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

fin.

[storgicdealer]

rolls up sleeves. today's short guys.

the short brought me SO much to think about — particularly, how the news outlets DO exist in the outernet, and how the showdown was seen from the stickcity — which does confirm that if they were around, it was impossible for vic not to see at least bits of it before.

so in this post i am . once again . compiling my thoughts into a big victim theory that tied in my Head

victim theory: the point the show went down

again. warning this is me going on a RAMBLE that is so insane that i constantly switch from one topic to another. expect insanity

in case i interpret something incorrectly in your opinion, or forget a major detail — feel completely free to add on! my memory is horrible

so. presenting the thing that the outernet and the internet are connected with each other, yet still have a barrier in-between them there is a possibility of outernet citizens not having access to it full-time. at the same time, so much stuff is digitally reliant on pc tech that i doubt outernet sticks wouldnt know about it at all

im thinking that when victim has been ‘unsaved’, one way or another — they couldve gotten into the outernet, also one way or another (this is a raw supposition that it would happen that early but). which made them separated from the pc/internet in the first place — severing them from knowing about how things really work there aside from what they learned when needed to survive, as well as knowing about the existence of other cursors.

and given the last, when showdown happened — this was their first cue to become involved in the whole hollowhead tragedy. a thing they didn't know before due to being out of the pc — which was also the point where they became obsessed with revenge.

we now DO know that the outernet has news outlets; whether they saw it on the news or themselves, this was their first step into getting revenge. (at the same time, seeing it on the news would sort of? elaborate on why rocket tech most likely also streams news n such. perhaps as some weird kind of thanks "for showing me where my torturer was" or, perhaps, wanting others to see what has been going on too/how much of a danger cursors are. it would support the freedom guy=victim theory just a tad bit if victim Did care about stick rights prior showdown)

(another point — i must mention that we now know that sticks have phones, and most likely their own in-gadget social media now — but we don't know if they have the same internet as humans do. honestly the whole reason why the theory of sticks not having full access to internet didn't crumble yet.)

going to investigate, either by themselves or having already been in rocket — they could've possibly found the tech dark owned (as well as the mega blaster that literally shoots things in the ip sky) and, importantly, dark's own portals to the internet — and perhaps, have used them, for minor things and scraps or, something bigger. like actual travel.

whether by connecting the cursor with alan or not, by the point of them getting into the internet they DEFINITELY saw what happened with them, chosen, dark. (ava 4 as well, but it is talked about later.)

and thats the point where theyd get the adobe tools = i believe they would have to go to a pc to get them, but i also am not against the possibility of them just. downloading it cracked or something. they got the tools and. if thats the point where they left the pc/internet and didnt come back (perhaps, danger of another user) it mightve been the reason they didnt know about the powers of second.

this whole thing elaborates on why they found the showdown in chosens memories first — having seen what happened, they wanted to fully understand what went down — perhaps where such power came from. it was kind of.. impossible to see sec from such distance? and there werent any news outlets seen next to the showdown site itself, which could explain why they didnt know about secs powers once again.

the thing that makes me doubt this in a way is the reason why they didn't go to alan right away, having acquired the adobe tools. but there is a thing i believe might explain that — victim saw, and realized that chosen, dark and them are peas of the same pod; that they managed to destroy alan's computer — and that they don't have such power to do the same ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(:{)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

having came back to the outernet, with the adobe tools — they might've started to enact the plan of getting revenge by gaining power that they first lacked, now especially that they had some tools to do so. them getting the instruments that outernet citizens didn't have before, perhaps didn't fully know about — they could've been seen as someone who brought something special to the outernet. they could've been a person that, aside from revenge, would want to protect sticks (it would genuinely clash with how they treated chosen, but at the same time i can believe it was their own anger of not getting what chosen "had". power and ability to get revenge on their creator.) — being seen as some sort of saviour or, at least, someone powerful — this is how they could've gotten up the career stairs of rocketcorp in the first place.

what makes me think of the box episode — this could've been the point they have acquired enough power to challenge alan, causing them to FINALLY hang up posters after 5 years (sorry it just tied in so well in my mind thats why i capitalized it. like holy shit thats the reason for posters being late as shit)

knowing about the showdown, they wouldn't put up dark as well, whether she was mia or . yknow.

what EXACTLY the power to challenge an animator, a god requires. oh this is a brainworm of mine.

knowing about the showdown#2, perhaps having investigated it itself — could bring back the theory of dark being captured by rocket and, perhaps, being in her weak state — used by victim in order to gain more power that they lacked. victim could've known about how challenging dark was to beat + how chosen and dark managed to destroy chosen's computer = a recipe to gain power to go at alan themselves.

and have finally gained enough power, whether with dark or not — they could've went for chosen, who WAS active — and difficult to beat.

finally being ready to go at alan, they went to get the only person alive that was connected to him.

i could also bring in the fact that they COULD'VE possibly tried to go at chosen for using his own powers for themselves as well — at the possibility of them being "good and powerful" in the eyes of society, being a "saviour" — capturing a well-known terrorist, moreover brainwashing citizens (a raw assumption, but perhaps even rocket) into thinking that they need to get him to get revenge on a person that murders sticks — that it is something that they were okay with doing. at the hands of their own, bitter desire for revenge.

one thing that contrasts it all, however — showdown has happened when ava4 already happened. and in case victim went to investigate their roots — it would've been impossible for them not to know about sec. but at the same time, orange used his own wit (and a small sprinkle of chosen silhouette flashing) to try and defeat noogai — and he didn't !! alan has trapped and spared him on his own !! which could've made them think it's not someone worth paying attention to, someone isn't powerful enough that they may need.

i must mention that it is possible for victim to gain the adobe tools without looking at the hollowhead's history after they were created at the time. for example, stealing the app and not opening youtube to do so, lol — but the whole existence of alan's tv makes it at the same time impossible, and at the same time — so confusing on why victim did not know about sec's powers.

im clutching my pearls . oh god this is so long

im going ins

i would APPRECIATE ALL of your input!!!

[mixelation]

i got yet another comment confused about mutagenicity's itatori so i guess i will write. what are these called. a shipping manifesto???

so first i will disclaim that this ship started as a joke and then proceeded to have me waffle around what i thought the dynamic would be, so some posts probably contradict each other. i was also on the fence about producing shippy content of tori with ANYONE for a while (i have very obviously changed my stance on this lmao)

so first, context. tori and itachi have a long, complicated history with each other. in plasticity, tori makes it clear she has no interest in fucking with itachi's goals, but she's also fully and demonstrably capable of doing just that, even by accident. she is also, by the events of mutagenicity, the only person in the entire world who knows his full backstory. he actively recruits her to konoha both because tori Knowing Things means he needs to keep an eye on her (because who the fuck knows what she will do) but also because he sees her as a valuable ally.

tori spends plasticity both with anxiety that itachi might do something horrible to her, resenting him for the power he holds over her, and then also low key enjoying his company. eventually she will realize he'd probably make her best possible ally.

in mutagenicity, they end up close friends. this is both because they're on the same team and also because they are fucked up adults in tweenaged bodies. who else are they supposed to hang out with? actual children? i don't think either would rank the other as their BEST friend, but they are pretty close. itachi respects tori's skills from day 1 and will defer to her on certain topics, which is not something he will do for most people. tori agrees to high treason to kill danzo for itachi with zero questions, conditions, or asking for anything in return, which does absolute wonders for itachi's affection for her. they end up with a deep, mutual trust for each other, and they enjoy each other's company

the part that started as a joke (and i'm leaving in because i think it's 1) funny, and 2) a great way to spotlight itachi's insane personality) is that itachi decides they should date without telling tori.

the reason for this is basically that his clan duty is to marry and have kids, so around age 16 mikoto starts shoving girls at him. the idea here is: the uchiha are progressive enough that his parents would prefer a love marriage for their son, but the marriage does have to happen, and itachi has yet to show romantic interest in literally everyone. itachi's issue with this is that he..... kind of hates other people. he doesn't want to date random teenage girls, but mikoto is a seasoned social manipulator and he keeps ending up in situations like "alone in the park with some girl and they're both eating ice cream HOW DID THIS HAPPEN." also now suddenly women are interested in him because he's a well-known celebrated genius important clan heir. his life? is hell?

and then he realizes all his problems would be solved if he simply got his own girlfriend. so he sits back and reflects on "women my age that i wouldn't hate spending time with" and the only answer is tori. so he starts inviting her places and obviously she says yes because they are friends and she enjoys spending time with him.

eventually tori figures out he's.... dating her? and she gets mad and breaks up with him because THAT'S AN INSANE THING TO DO, ITACHI. but then after she cools off she decides, actually, this is a great arrangement. she DOES like hanging out with itachi, but he does this annoying thing where he'll disappear for months because he's bad at socializing, and if they're dating she can strong arm him into not doing that. a lot of typical date activities are fun and she likes having an excuse to dress up. she likes making him pay for stuff (tori is also horrible). she likes the trickery/deception angle. she likes the social advantage of having someone she can make go with her to events, the fact that having a boyfriend means sexual harassment goes down, the bragging rights, etc.

so tori goes back to him and proposes they "fake date" for mutual benefit. dw, itachi, tori is also a seasoned manipulator, and this will go SO MUCH BETTER for you if you let her be in charge of it. and itachi is like "she is SO right, what was i thinking, tori loves fucking with people's heads--" and they start dating again!

except they aren't like..... romantic. like, both of them, as people, are not super into romance. they don't give off Dating Vibes to most people, unless you're part of their inner circle, in which case you're just witnessing itachi and tori discovering they have a mutually compatible approach to dating and romance. they're both treating it like some sort of long-term mission because they're both morons in the same direction, but if you're like deidara or shisui or someone, you've just had the horrible realization that they're probably going to marry each other.

itachi and tori think they are in cahoots. it is only a bonus that the cahoots are fun. however yes at some point when you've committed hard enough and are having enough fun, the cahoots are simply a committed relationship

tori: hey, are you ever going to go find a wife? wasn't that the plan?

itachi: (imagines dating literally anyone else) (imagines being less close to tori)

itachi: (don'tlikethat.jpeg)

itachi: .......do you want to marry me

tori: hm

tori: (imagines not being with itachi any more) (doubt.jpeg)

tori: yeah that sounds good