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msgexymunson · 2 years

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Kickstart My Heart

Eddie x Fem!Reader

Description: Eddie's taken aback when someone makes a bigger scene in the cafeteria than him. Maybe he's finally met his match?

Warnings: Mostly fluff, smidge of angst, very very slight smut (making out/slight grinding) mentions of drug use, use of y/n twice (I try to avoid it if at all poss) use of pet names (princess/sweetheart etc) Reader has curly hair and a back tattoo and I'm totally projecting I'm fully aware.

A/N: Honestly I keep seeing Eddie with cheerleaders and I respectfully disagree. I wanted him to meet someone with similar interests and also wanted to see how he could deal with someone being a bit of a dom as well. I'm not 100% on this but it's been sitting in my notes forever. I'm thinking this would be a good mini series so let me know in the comments/reblogs if you like it enough for that! Edit, Part 2 now out!

5.2k words

Masterlist Part 2 Here

Eddie lounges on the bench in the cafeteria, his legs draped either side, tapping a tattoo on the floor with his feet. He was laying back, magazine in hand, reading out choice paragraphs to his followers, the Hellfire club. And anyone else who might be listening. "....see, they don't even realise how much of a joke they actually are!" Eddie flourishes the magazine and starts rolling it into a tube, mock conducting with his hands, pointing at the more popular kids in the hall.

The boys at the table nod make agreeable noises, knowing it's easier to just let Eddie continue when he's like this; but then something catches Dustin's eye.

"See? I told you Mike, she does go here." Hitting him on the arm.

"Where? Where?"

"Right there, walking in, that's the girl." Dustin stares at the doorway, transfixed.

Eddie laughs, still laying there.

"Don't tell me your losing your mind over a girl Henderson."

"I heard she just got out of Juvie. She showed up in my science class and threw a drink over Jimmy Clayton." Gareth pipes up, following Dustin's gaze.

"I saw her at the arcade wrecking it on Galactic Warriors."

"You should talk to her Dustin!" Mike laughed.

"Screw that, she's a senior and she's scary dude."

Eddie, now annoyed at the lack of attention, jumps up onto the seat, standing on it, knocking the gang out of their spell. "Hey sheep, this is reality calling!" He shouts to them in a sing song voice, bonking Dustin on the head with the magazine, then turns and looks around the room trying to find who they are talking about.

He doesn't have to wait long. A commotion starts two tables away, and the prettiest girl Eddie has ever seen is facing off with Jason Carver.

Long, messy curls adorn her head, wearing a faded Anthrax t shirt tied at the waist, nipping it in, and tight jeans, a wry smile on her lips.

"Get out of my face, freak!" Jason sneers at her.

"You just tried to grope me, now you don't like me sweetheart?" She shouts sarcastically back at him. She leans forward then sticks her middle finger up right in Jason's face.

Eddie has frozen, standing on his seat, mouth slightly open, magazine hanging from his hand, forgotten.

The girl starts to back away. As soon as she turns her back Jason mutters loudly, "as if anyone wants to touch you slut."

Eddie's about to jump off the chair, a fire lit in his stomach. But before that can happen, the girl spins around, and in one smooth, almost dance like motion, pulls her sneaker off her foot and throws it straight into Jason's face. Jason looks furious, his face bright red. The girl smiles, takes a bow, and just leaves the hall. Without her shoe.

Eddie is in love, he's sure of it. It's a peculiar, foreign feeling. He's warm all over. A flush begins to creep up his neck. A flutter in his stomach, mouth dry, head fuzzy. He watches those curls bounce off until the door shuts.

"Eddie! Earth to Eddie!"

He shakes his head to get a grip on reality, and realises oh yeah, I'm Eddie.

"What?" He jumps down to the floor, trying to act nonchalant.

"What was that about losing my mind over a girl?" Dustin grins at him.

Eddie's composure breaks for a second, then smiles back, with that signature Eddie grin. "That, my friend, is not a girl, that is a force of nature."

A shriek distracts him for a second. Someone had grabbed the sneaker and flung it at their friend, sending a drink flying. Another student grabs it with a look of disdain and flings it over their shoulder. Eddie watches it land on the floor a few feet away.

A smile parades across his face. He flings the magazine at Dustin and bounds over and grabs the shoe, then races back and grabs his battered metal lunch box in the other hand.

Dustin groans. "Oh shit Eddie, no, no!"

Eddie grins and winks at Dustin with a glint in his eye.

"Eddie, come on, you cant go after her." Mike rolls his eyes.

"And why not?"

"Because! Because she's basically you!"

"Mike's right, the universe might implode. Or you'll end up in prison." Dustin says, knowing its hopeless.

Eddie laughs. "Well now I gotta find out." He spreads his arms wide, sneaker in one hand, box in the other. "I bid you adieu," and leans into a low bow, turning to leave the room.

After a few minutes of searching and feeling embarrassed, Eddie's annoyed. No one should take up this much space inside his head so fast. You had captivated him and it was a wholly new experience. He'd had crushes on girls before, fleeting things, but this was different. He felt a burning in his chest that he'd never felt before. He decides the best thing to do is to get some air, have a smoke and chill out. There wasn't much left of lunch break after all.

He starts to walk over to his usual spot in the woods, inspecting the shoe in his hand in the process, turning it over and over. It's small, even for a girls sneaker, and about as dirty as his own. There's marks on the white leather, and scribbles and drawings on it in ballpoint pen. He sees 'Iron Maiden' in spiky letters across the side and his heart leaps. Oh come on, get it together Munson, you getting all excited over a shoe?

*******************

What a grade A prick you think to yourself as you lay on the picnic table in the woods that another senior told you about, smoking a cigarette.

You were seriously thinking this is a bad idea, coming back to Hawkins. You hadn't been here since Middle School and the crowds hadn't exactly improved. First that pervert in Chemistry tried to put his arm around you, now some basketball playing entitled dick gropes you in the lunch line.

You try to lay still and calm down, but your fingers were pulling at the hole on the thigh of your jeans, unravelling it more, your leg restlessly shaking.

Eddie approaches the clearing cautiously, surprised to see someone on the table. Then his heart swells. It's her. She's laying on the table, curls spilling over the edge, one knee up and legs slightly apart, one socked foot dangling off the table. She looks so peaceful, and slightly vulnerable. Eddie suddenly feels a twitch in his pants, really Munson?

"You lose something?"

You look up, slightly startled, to this very pretty boy with messy brown hair, standing there grinning sheepishly, waving your shoe in the air.

"Only my mind." You say back, sitting up.

"Oh, is this isn't yours?" He smirks at you, a glint in his eye. His very familiar eyes. You take in his figure. Leather jacket, band t shirt and black jeans. He's lean, and tall, and handsome.

"Now that, that I didn't lose. I ejected it. With force."

He laughs loudly at that and moves towards you, holding the shoe out. You reach for it and he pulls it away, a cheeky smile on his face.

"So you want your homemade missile back or...?"

In response you stick your socked foot out to him. He seems surprised at this small but bold movement. He puts down the lunchbox he's holding and undoes the knotted laces, then slides the sneaker onto your foot.

"What do you know, it fits!" You giggle at him which makes his face light up.

"So what's your name?" He says tying your laces.

"Cinder-fucking-rella."

He grins at you, still holding your foot. You take a last drag of your cigarette and look him in the eye. There's a moment when you both look at each other, a heat in the air.

"Gonna need that back." You motion to your foot. He lets go and puts his hands up in mock submission, smug smile on his face. You jump off the table and start to make your way back to school.

"Hey- wait!"

"See you around Prince Charming." You say over your shoulder.

"See you princess." Is his quiet response.

Eddie's standing there, for the second time today, staring at your curls bounce, watching you leave.

*******************

Oh my God its Eddie Munson. You think to yourself, grinning now your back is turned, a flush creeping up your cheeks. You cannot believe it. He was the year above in Middle School and you crushed on him, hard. You nearly didn't recognise him with long hair but he smiled at you and it clicked and you nearly melted right then and there. God, since you'd been held back a year after the chaos that is your life you were sure you'd never see him again, at least at school. He must have been held back two years.

Eddie Munson. He looked good. Real good. And you just left. But he had looked so smug and sure of himself and you never like to do what people expect. Practically skipping to class, you kept saying his name in your head. Eddie Munson. You grin to yourself. Maybe this year wont be so bad.

*******************

"Late again Mr Munson?"

"Only so we can have these chats Mrs O'Donnell"

"Thin ice young man. Take a seat."

Eddie flops down in his chair, and leans back. Its last period, and his concentration is elsewhere. Chin resting in his hand, he thinks about the brief encounter with, well, with her yesterday. Whatever her name is. The princess. He smiles to himself. Not many people can surprise him. Why did she just run off though? He thought their chat was going well.

Halfway through the lesson, he feels something on the back of his head. Then again. Turning round, he sees her. Smirk on her face, balling up a strip of paper. He grins, then runs his hand through his hair, sending an avalanche of little white balls to the floor like snowflakes. She laughs silently, banging her hand against her mouth to be quiet, and looks at him with glee. Eddie's heart is about to burst, looking at her joyful face. Lost in her eyes for a second, he remembers his 'thin ice' and whips his head back round to the front. Coast is clear.

She taps him on the back, he glances round and she waves a folded piece of paper. He looks back to the front but holds his hand out behind him to take it. She presses the note into his palm with warm fingers.

Taking the note, he unfurls it with deft movements:

Meet me after class Mr Munson.

He composes himself for a moment, his stomach somersaulting, a wide smile just itching to spread across his face. So, was he right, did she like him? He turns his head briefly to flash her a lopsided grin and a nod.

The bell rings. There was the general scuffle, chair screeches and chatter that a accompanies the end of a lesson. Eddie leapt up and nearly ran to the door, hearing a soft giggle behind him.

*******************

Look at him, he's practically skipping you laugh to yourself. Seems a shame to mess with him. You were going to mess with him though. Only a little. It's not every day your childhood crush seems to like you back.

"Hey princess." Giving you a goofy grin. "Hey" you beam back, tilting your head to one side. "Can we go to the bench, I need to ask you something."

"Er sure?" He looks happy, but confused, searching your face for answers. You whip your head around and start walking briskly. He hops to try and keep up with you. I could get used to this, Eddie Munson trailing behind me.

He catches up, and you have a chat about music, passing the time. Turns out you have pretty similar taste. He points out your Anthrax t shirt from yesterday and you talk about Iron Maiden, Ozzie, Dio, Metallica. He waves his arms in the air and bounces, so excitable, like a child. You make it to the bench and you take a seat, hands steepled in front of you, pulling a serious face.

He hops down and sits opposite, head cocked to one side, giving you his full attention. God he's handsome. That hair falling around his face, those full lips, those eyes that seem to stare into your soul and beyond. Even his neck is attractive. You realise you are staring, a cough clearing your throat.

"I hear good things about you Munson."

"Well you cant be talking to most of Hawkins then, I'm a Satan worshipping weirdo!" He opens his mouth wide, sticks out his tongue and wrinkles his nose up at you. Look at that tongue.

You stare at him in mock horror, your hand flying to your mouth.

"Really, do you sacrifice virgins?"

"I would if I could find one." He winks at you.

You laugh then, so hard you snort a little, then your cheeks blush pink. Eddie revels in the slight drop in your guard.

"Wow princess, that was really something." He smirks at you.

"Damnit Munson, stop with the 'princess!'"

"Well what am I supposed to call you, you wont tell me your name sweetheart."

Something about the way he called you sweetheart stirred something between your legs. You rubbed your thighs together briefly. It was a great feeling, but it also annoyed you a little. You hated being out of control, and you felt a flash of, wait was that fear? He'd caught you off guard. You were supposed to be catching him off guard. You smile at him lazily.

"Well maybe you need to earn it." You winked at him.

"Ah I see how it is. Hmmm. Well, what did you want from me then, dragging me into the woods."

You reach over and grab his hand, lean closer. The warmth of his hand contrasts with the cool feel of his rings brushing your palm. "I hear you can help a girl out." You say to him breathily.

Eddie's eyebrows raise so high that they disappear into his hair and a flush appears on his cheeks. You smirk at him.

"Word is your the school's supplier. Or am I wrong?" You bat your eyelashes at him.

He nods in understanding and for a second, looks a little deflated. "Well you ain't wrong sweetheart." He grabs his metal lunchbox and plants it on the table, giving you the sell.

You agree to half an ounce, and you are sure he gives you more than that, not that you are complaining. He holds it out and you go to grab it, but he snatches it away at the last minute, grinning at you.

"Come on Munson!" You say to him, mock pouting.

"It comes at a price."

"Oh yeah? I just gave that to you!"

"Something else. I gotta know your name." His eyes near bore into your soul.

"I told you. Cinderella."

"Very funny princess. I tell you what, we can make a deal. You come to the Hideout tomorrow night, and listen to my band. Then we can forget the name. For now."

Smooth Munson.

"Maybe I will then."

"Ah ah ah princess, you gotta. Comes with the deal you see. You need to promise."

"Fine. Cross my heart. I'll come see your band."

His grin damn near splits his face apart. "I promise you sweetheart, with your discerning taste? You're gonna love it."

*******************

Eddie gets ready for the gig tonight, backstage, standing in the mirror. Maybe he spends a little extra time on his hair. So what? He's playing a gig. Nothing at all to with her. He wondered who he was trying to kid. He hadn't been able to stop thinking of her. His mind just kept wandering. She was gorgeous and feisty and everything he could ever want. It takes a lot for him to focus on the moment. He steps out, guitar in hand, and takes a deep breath. Starts playing, and searching the very small audience. She's not here.

First song of the set down, then the second. Eddie's starting to give up, glancing at the door, when a familiar head of curls bounces through. She's here. She's just late. Eddie laughed to himself. Like Mike said, it was very Eddie of her. She sauntered over to the bar and got the attention of the server immediately, tossing her head back and smiling. Eddie felt a hotness creep into his chest, almost as if he was jealous. It was only after ordering a drink she hopped onto a bar stool, turned and looked at him, legs seductively crossed. She's fucking beautiful. Her hair seemed neater, she had clearly styled it somehow, but the curls still fell around her face. Her dress was figure hugging and black, a zip running right down the front. Her curves took his breath away. Eddie couldn't help but wonder if the whole dress came undone if you pulled that zip. He nearly faltered in his playing thinking about it. Another song down and then another, then one of the waitresses came over to him, beer in hand.

"A beer from Cinderella?" She said, pointing at her. Eddie laughed, of course she would send a drink over. Shit, do I like her because she's like me? His band finish the set, and he downs half the beer. Taking a deep breath, he moves his way into the audience.

*******************

Ok he's coming over, act natural. You try to look like you are looking the other way, then start to inspect your fingernails. Eddie stands in front of you, and you look up into those deep brown eyes of his. It takes your breath away.

"Why if it isn't Van Halen, I'm you're biggest fan" you say breathily, a smirk on your face. I'm not done playing with you yet Munson.

Eddie smirks at you, "looks like you decided to turn up after all princess."

"Well, you know, I kinda promised this guy."

"This guy must be impressive if you're coming here to this dive just to see him."

"What can I say, he's got a bit of an ego but he looks damn sexy when he plays the guitar."

Eddie nearly falters, seeing you bat your eyelashes at him. He looks so cute when he's not so sure of himself. Then he takes a different tact, pointing at the beer in your hand "aren't you a minor sweetheart?"

"Aren't you Munson?"

"Well, they don't know that " another Eddie wink.

"Don't know about me either. I told the bartender I'm 35."

Eddie laughs at this, for once feeling out of his depth.

"What are you, 17, 18?'

"Try 19 Munson." He looks at you quizzically. "Yes it's not just you that's been held back."

"How do you know about that?" Shit nearly gave it away.

"Everyone knows, you're famous Eddie."

"So, you gonna actually tell me how you know that, and how you know my full name sweetheart?"

You scrunch your face a little, realising you never said his first name before. Got a little too carried away with the game you had been playing. Shouldn't have called him Van Halen either. Seems like the right time to confess. Well, here goes nothing. You take a deep breath, your heart in your throat.

"I know you Eddie Munson. I went to middle school with you. You were in the year above. My names y/n l/n."

Eddie's eyes widen. He looks at you, really looks at you. Then the words you never thought you would hear come out of his mouth.

"Shit, y/n, I remember you. You were always running around with those nerds, you wore glasses all the time. I remember you getting pulled from school!"

"And how the fuck would you remember that?" You said, feeling uncomfortable.

"Well, I remember, I remember the talent show. When you sang in front of the whole school. Hotel California. I never expected it, no one did. You were really good."

You blush a deep crimson, annoyed at your vulnerability. Eddie doesn't seem to notice, just looking over your shoulder, remembering.

"Shit I remember hearing you sing, then having to go on with my band near straight after, feeling like we weren't gonna be shit compared to that."

You blush red to the roots of your hair. "Well, your bands really good, really good Munson.. I was just, you know, karaoke singing..."

"No, honest, I thought you were amazing." He grins at you, fingers tapping on the bar next to you. That Eddie grin makes you want to melt into a puddle. Weren't you supposed to be teasing him?

You stare into those eyes. Those big, beautiful brown eyes and realise something. Maybe you had been wrong about Eddie. You strip that bravado back, that fake confidence, and he is just a kid. An overexcited, vulnerable, kid. Just like you.

He's looking at you, staring at you with those eyes of his, and you need to do something before you are his, right here and right now. You turn to the bar and wave at the bar tender. "Two tequilas, please." As you flash a comfortable smile. The bartender catches your gaze and pours out two shots, smiling at you and raising his eyebrows at Eddie. You take your shot in hand, staring at Eddie, and down the shot. You swallow with barely a flinch, waiting to see his reaction.

"You're gonna be the death of me sweetheart." He grins, then takes his shot the same way.

"You wanna get out of here?"

**************************************

I'm the luckiest guy in the world. Eddie gazes at you, your cheeks flushed, laying on his couch, your feet resting on his lap. Listening to the metal music Eddie had put on, curled up on the couch. You had been joking and chatting for an hour or so and he just felt so comfortable around you. You seemed to have the same sense of humor as him, laughing at all his jokes. It seemed a far cry from the way you had reacted to him before, building walls up. He thought it was nice to see you as you, without defences.

"So, you want a beer, or you ready to sing for me."

"Not on your damned life Munson, though I'll take that beer."

Eddie laughs and gets up, lifting your feet softly to one side, and grabs two beers, opening them by the fridge.

"So, why wouldn't you tell me your name before." Eddie asks, his head to one side, intrigued.

'Because Munson, it was fun messing with you." You smirk back at Eddie, but there's a blush to your cheeks that makes him think you weren't being honest with him.

You continue, "a lot of people know things, or think they know why I left. I just didn't want you to judge me before you knew me."

"As a victim of judgement I can safely say I know what you mean." Eddie brings his hands up, indicating to himself. He hands you a beer which you place on the table, and he does the same. He sits next to you, close, head turned towards you.

Damn she's intoxicating. Eddie coughs, and looks into your eyes. You smile back at him, his eyes drawn to your lips.

Come on Munson, kiss me already.

You both sit, mulling in this hot silence, looking at each other, flushed cheeks and beating hearts. It's almost a stand off, each waiting for the other to make a move. You lick your lips and try and build up that confidence that you had before. Reaching out, you hold your hand to his jaw line, gently rubbing your thumb down it, coming to rest on his chin. He moves forward, expectantly, and you take that as a sign. You lean towards him, your breath on his lips, as your hand snakes into his hair. Your noses touch, the tip of your nose rubbing just to the side of his, as your lips ever so lightly graze, sending shivers of sensation through you. His mouth opens slightly, and you both press your lips to the other, tongues touching, softly, hesitantly. Your mouths open more, tongues reaching out, exploring each others mouths leisurely, deeply. His hands reach out to hold you at the hips, pulling you closer. You pull at his hair slightly and he moans into you. You break apart, both panting slightly, and stare into each others eyes. You see those soulful dark eyes pouring out feeling to you, and you know that he has stolen your heart forever.

Eddie breaks the silence. He grins and chuckles at you, "Now that was intense."

You're breathless, wordless for once, biting your lip. "Eddie..." you manage and he smirks at you. You press your lips to his again hungrily, urgently. His hands grip your hips, and you crawl into his lap, swinging one leg over so you're straddling him. His hands massage into you, and both of your hands end up in his hair, tugging at it. You are both kissing almost violently, and you break away so you can breathe. You rock your hips forward, feeling how hard he was getting through his jeans. He takes a sharp breath at that, his hands moving lower to grab your ass, grinding you into him again. You moan low into your throat, throwing your head back.

"Jesus princess you're so fucking hot." He manages to say, his voice so low and rough its almost a growl.

You lean forward again, pulling him into another fervent kiss, tongues clashing, hips bucking. He groans and bites your lip. Grabbing you by the hips he suddenly stands up and you throw your arms around his neck for balance, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you to his bedroom, never stopping the urgent flow of hot kisses.

He throws you on the bed and climbs on top of you, then seems to remember himself. "Sorry, you just.. you do things to me."

"You drive me wild Eddie Munson" you grin back at him. "But maybe we should, you know, take it easy. I like you, I really like you, but I mean, you barely know me."

"Not true, I know you from middle school, remember? That's years." He winks at you, then flops down next to you, on his side "Seriously though, whatever you want. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

You could have cried at that. His face turned to you, that look of concern on his face, his brows slightly furrowed, it melted your heart. You hold a hand to his cheek.

"I'm not saying I don't want to, you know. I'm just saying not yet. I do want to, I just, want to take my time with you Mr Munson."

He grinned at you, stroking your side.

"I've wanted you since your shoe connected with Jason's face."

You laughed out loud at that, he smiled at you, enjoying how much he could make you laugh. He pulled you in for another kiss, less urgent but still passionate, long and deep, like you had all the time in the world. The rest of the universe melted away, it was just you and him, wrapped in each others arms.

"Can I stay? Is that OK?" You stare in his eyes.

"Princess you're not going anywhere as long as I can help it."

"I meant for tonight, like sleep here." You poke him playfully in the ribs.

"Sure! Tonight, tomorrow, maybe the next one.." you giggle at that.

"Hold on let me grab you something" he jumps up and leaves the room. You hear the music stop and a small cry.

You sit up, as he walks back into the room, looking dejected.

"Eddie what's wrong?"

He looks at you with a miserable face, throws his hands in the air "we forgot the beers!!" He falls to the floor on his knees in mock anguish. You chuckle at his theatrics.

"You're an idiot Eddie Munson." You throw a pillow at him. He grabs it in the air and throws it back.

"What the hell was I doing? Oh yeah" He throws a faded black band t shirt to you. "To sleep in."

You get up with your back to him as Eddie sits on the edge of the bed.

"So yeah if you wanna just go to the bathroom you can change..." he stops mid sentence.

You had started to unzip your dress, letting it fall to the ground, uncovering your back. You have a tattoo that covers your back, huge, black, bat like wings. Your black, lacy matching underwear is on display. Still with your back to him, you unhook your bra, and that falls too. You slip the t shirt over your head, it's big on you and reaches just to the tops of your thighs. Ok that was mean.

You turn around and look at Eddie's face. "What?" You smirk.

Eddie's broken. He's staring at you, beetroot red face, mouth hanging open, unable to speak.

"Holy shit.. You- you're... you've got...erm, wow." Eddie is speechless for once. "Cool tattoo." He manages to stutter out.

You smile at him sweetly. "Thank you."

"Jesus y/n that was really mean" He says, regaining some composure and pulling you roughly towards him. You laugh, throwing your head back, and his lips find your throat, kissing and sucking your neck. You let out a whimper, he feels so good against your skin.

"You've made me really hard, I hope you realise that you devil woman." He keeps kissing but he's digging his fingers into your ribs, tickling you. You giggle and squirm, enjoying the effect you seem to have on him.

"Sorry, I know, I'm an awful tease. Someone really needs to teach me a lesson."

"Oh just you wait princess. I'm totally getting you back for that."

"I look forward to it Munson." You wink at him.

Getting ready for bed, you grab your bag from the living room, and make your way to the bathroom. You come back to the bedroom with your hair piled up in a bun. Eddie's in his boxers, laying on the bed. His lean figure is relaxed, a smattering of tattoos cover his torso and arms. Your gaze settles on them, unable to take your eyes off him, and drifts down to the rather clear outline of his hardness in his boxers. Now he certainly looks impressive you think to yourself, your mind wandering.

"What's on your mind sweetheart?" He smiles at you smugly.

"Nothing" you say a little quickly. He chuckles. You're enjoying this, the to and fro between you to, even if you had lost that one. He seems to be enjoying it too, his eyes were twinkling, dark pools staring at you.

You join him in bed, under the sheets, wrapping around each other, impossibly close. He kisses you softly on the forehead. "Goodnight princess."

You smile to yourself in the dark, thinking how lucky you are, to be in Eddie's arms.

@eddiesprincess86

#eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #ms gexy writes #stranger things smut #stranger things fan fic #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things 4 #eddie munson

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transmascissues · 9 months

Text

i just got back from my first ever gynecological exam and somehow, despite the doctor being really nice and way more knowledgeable about trans bodies than i was expecting, it still ended up being incredibly upsetting and honestly probably mildly traumatizing. i’m sure it’s no secret to anyone following me that going to the gynecologist is a uniquely shitty experience for a lot of trans guys and i knew that but i really was not prepared for that.

first of all, everything you read says that the pelvic exam and pap smear shouldn’t hurt even if they’re super uncomfortable, but let me tell you, that shit fucking hurt. like, i have a pretty high pain tolerance and usually even when something does hurt i don’t show it very much, but that was maybe the most painful thing i’ve ever had a doctor do to me and it showed. to be fair, i’ve never had good luck with things like that — i couldn’t even use tampons back when i had a period because the one time i did, taking it out was really painful — and i’m on t now so i’m sure that makes things even harder and i was prepared for it to hurt, but i really wasn’t ready for just bad it was. it’s been an hour since the exam finished and there’s still some pain so, yeah, so much for “it’s just uncomfortable, not painful”.

(and a side note: when it did hurt, the doctor told me to relax my muscles because the tension makes it hurt more. what they didn’t seem to realize is that if your brain and body are collectively rejecting the presence of something inside you, making those muscles relax is a fucking herculean task and i for one was not in any way capable of it so it just…kept getting more painful.)

i also was never informed ahead of time of what a pelvic exam actually entails; i had assumed it was a more general external checkup, and that the pap smear was the only really invasive part. as it turns out, i was very wrong, and “pelvic exam” actually means the doctor sticks their finger up you to feel around. she asked me if i was comfortable getting the exam because it was so obvious that the pap smear didn’t go well, but i had no clue what i was saying yes to and it was a total surprise for me when there was something inside me again. and she knew it was my first time, so she had no reason to assume i knew that the exam would be like. by the time i realized i absolutely should not have said yes to it, i was too late and it was already happening. it really feels like common sense that if you’re going to be giving someone what basically amounts to a professional fingering, you should probably make it clear that that’s what’s about to happen, but i guess that doctor would disagree.

and of course, the whole time i was also being misgendered. the doctor used the right name for me, but the other staff didn’t and everything about it was so excessively gendered (i’m pretty sure the appointment i had was literally called a “women’s wellness visit” on the same sheet that had trans man and nonbinary as gender options). not to mention, when i told them i’m getting top surgery and have the exact date set, the nurse made a comment to like“well aren’t you one of the lucky ones,” which really felt like it had “i think trans guys have a super easy time getting surgeries that cis women have to fight for” energy.

and the irony of all this definitely isn’t lost on me — i just did a project this past semester about how trans guys are fucked over by reproductive healthcare practices so a lot of us just never go, and now i got some firsthand experience in exactly why so many of us just say “no fucking way”.

i just want to put this out there for anyone who hasn’t done it before because i think this would have been a lot less awful for me if someone had just told me “yeah, it might hurt way more than you think, and also that thing they call a pelvic exam is actually an internal exam.” i thought i was prepared and i totally wasn’t, so hopefully this will reach someone else who will be better off knowing all of this.

#if there are typos in this no there arent. im so out of it rn you cant hold me responsible for that shit #filing today in the ‘pretend it didnt happen at all costs until i see my therapist’ folder bc uh. fucking hell #it feels silly to say this about a doctors appointment but that might genuinely fuck me up long term #like ik these are important visits but. i do not know if i’ll be able to make myself go again after that #transandrophobia #transandromisia #transmisandry #virilmisia #virilphobia #anti transmasculinity #transmascphobia #trans men #transmascs

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percheduphere · 5 months

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LET'S TALK ABOUT THE LOKI SERIES' ROMANTIC TROPES AND JANE AUSTEN

I am going to compare the relationships and romantic undertones of Loki, Sylvie, and Mobius with my all-time favorite Jane Austen adaptation because the character archetypes and plot-points are strikingly similar with Ang Lee and Emma Thompson's 1995 Sense and Sensibility.

This sounds cracked, but stay with me. Tropes are tropes for a reason. They are often repeated in writing subconsciously because they are very old and near-universal story arcs regardless of the literary genre we are discussing.

Please note that this is not a 1-to-1 comparison. This is an analysis of basic archetypes, tropes, and plot-points: the barebones skeleton of story structure. With that said, let's dig in:

Loki = Kate Winslet's Marianne Dashwood

Sylvie = Greg Wise's John Willoughby

Mobius = Alan Rickman's Colonel Brandon

For those of you who have not seen (or read) Sense & Sensibility, the story is about a family of women who are rendered near-destitute when the patriarch passes away and, due to English law at the time, all the family finances fall to the only son. The only hope for the women to escape the edges of poverty is to marry into wealth.

The Loki series’ main storyline is a far cry from that of Sense & Sensibility. It is first and foremost a sci-fi action-adventure, but don’t let that genre fool you. Well-written stories are always character-driven. The setting serves to establish the rules of the world and the tangible challenges the characters must confront to achieve their goal. The end goal for Loki is his ascension to the God of Stories (and time). Therefore, his character arc must follow a trajectory that prepares him for that ascension.

Love, above all else, is essential for Loki’s journey. In order to understand and be capable of love, Loki must experience love in all its forms including but not limited to romantic. I've seen a lot of social media posters mocking shippers with comments saying, "the story is not about romance." I wholeheartedly disagree. While romance is not the main concern of the series, romance does serve Loki's character development.

It is critical that we remember romance does not require physical contact or even blatant declarations of love. If that were true, unrequited love would not be thought of as romantic, which we know is not the case. Further, it is possible for physical intimacy to exist without any romance at all. One does not require the other.

While dismantling HWR’s old regime is the Loki series’ “Plot A” thread, Loki’s emotional experience serves as the series’ “Plot B” thread. Love and romance exist in Plot B.

THE CHARACTERS & THEIR ARCHETYPES

LOKI & MARIANNE

Within Sense & Sensibility’s plot, one of the main heroines, Marianne, has the archetype of the mercurial, passionate, and freewheeling spirit. She is rebellious at heart, chaffing at society’s rigid expectations of emotional repression and polite rather than fiery courtship. Much like Loki with Sylvie, Marianne is drawn to John Willoughby because his temperament, values, interests, and talents very closely mirror her own.

Like Loki, Marianne is emotional. Her emotions drive many of her decisions, some of which are rash and socially unacceptable for her era.

Like Loki, Marianne detests social norms. Refusing to contain her nature for anyone, she is unafraid of the stares and judgment of others.

Like Loki, Marianne is poetic, a lover of words and metaphor.

Like Loki, Marianne is a hedonist. She will follow where her heart takes her regardless of the consequences. Just as Loki runs after Sylvie through the portal door, Marianne chases after Willoughby.

SYLVIE & WILLOUGHBY

Willoughby fulfills the archetype of the ideal lover at first sight. He is young, handsome, strong, deeply romantic, and a lover of poetry, pleasure, and unfettered emotion. I will not go into the deeper details of his character and plot here as I don't find them relevant for the purposes of this analysis. The key point to remember is that Willoughby is meant to be Marianne's perfect match by virtue of similarity.

Like Sylvie, Willoughby is emotional and consequently chaotic in nature. At his worst, Willoughby is unafraid of hurting others in the pursuit of his desires.

Like Sylvie, Willoughby chooses absolute freedom over the genuine love and care he has for Marianne (Loki).

Like Sylvie, Willoughby views institutions with social authority with contempt.

Like Sylvie, Willoughby judges character based on association with institutions rather than the individuals themselves. He holds repugnance for Brandon’s (Mobius’s) association with the military (the TVA). Fair enough, both the TVA and the military (especially the British military) are institutions that have committed horrific global atrocities.

Like Sylvie, Willoughby is unable to separate the institution from the individual people living and working within it, who are capable of goodness.

MOBIUS & COLONEL BRANDON

Colonel Brandon, a decorated military officer, fulfills the trope of the “dark horse” in love. He is Willoughby’s opposite: older, "less physically attractive", reserved, practical, and orderly. The main character (Loki/Marianne) appreciates his friendship yet does not feel any romantic affection for him (Mobius/Brandon) until the primary love interest (Sylvie/Willoughby) abandons the relationship for absolute freedom.

Like Mobius, Brandon is drawn to intelligent, artistic, footloose nonconformists.

Like Mobius, Brandon accepts and loves Marianne exactly as she is, including her faults. He does not want her to change against her will and gently reprimands her older sister, Elinor, at such a suggestion.

Like Mobius, Brandon serves an institution with significant influence on the lives of others.

Like Mobius, Brandon accepts that his love is not returned yet continues to express his love through his support of Marianne’s (Loki's) wishes, including his romantic rival Willoughby (Sylvie).

Like Mobius, Brandon is seen as a dear friend rather than a potential romantic partner in the first 2/3rds of the story.

Like Mobius, Brandon’s personal desires are secondary to Marianne’s (Loki’s) happiness.

THE ROMANTIC PLOT

It is understood by the audience that love is not only a feeling; it is also an action that requires incredible responsibility. In that responsibility, both lovers must choose to take into consideration the feelings, wants, and needs of the other.

The trope of a main character meeting their perfect match and falling quickly in love informs the audience that conflict must lie ahead, and that the third party of the love triangle will be tested for their worthiness as a romantic partner.

Loki & Sylvie and Marianne & Willoughby possess a fast, passionate, and explosive love.

Loki & Mobius and Marianne & Brandon posses a slow, steady, and gently burning love.

These two relationships, which are BOTH valid AND romantic, are set against one another to contrast each suitor's strengths and weaknesses, as well as to shed light on which suitor best meets the feelings, needs, and wants of the main character.

The main character's (Loki/Marianne) love interests inevitably collide in a tense confrontation. Being the Georgian Era, Brandon and Willoughby do not discuss their dislike for one another directly but with Marianne's older sister, Elinor.

Sylvie, on other hand, is not afraid to tear into Mobius, saying exactly what she thinks of him. Both directors of photography frame their shots in a near-identical fashion, demonstrating who are at odds and the individual (present or not) who is between them.

Whether in the realm of fiction or reality, the act of love inherently requires some degree of self-sacrifice.

While Sylvie performs self-sacrifice by pruning herself in hopes of finding and rescuing Loki from the Void, that self-sacrifice does not extend to her personal values and beliefs with respect to free will. She therefore fights Loki, ultimately kissing him farewell before kicking him through a time door to get what she wants.

Likewise, Willoughby, cut-off from his family's estate due to indiscretions he refuses own, prioritizes wealth over his relationship with Marianne in order to continue his lifestyle of luxury and absolute freedom. Willoughby therefore marries the exceptionally wealthy Miss Grey to achieve this end, abandoning Marianne and breaking her heart in the process.

At the midpoint of each storyline (where the narrative turns), both Loki and Marianne have lost the person they felt most strongly about because they were not that's person's priority.

Marianne's quote in the above gif is significant. It is a poem she and Willoughby recited together when they first met. She recites it again, alone, as she looks upon the estate Willoughby has married into in the rain. The poem is as follows:

"Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. Oh, no. It is an ever-fixed mark that looks upon tempests and is never shaken."

This poem defines love as not fickle but persistent in the face of challenges and "never shaken".

THE DARK HORSE IN LOVE

Brandon, who falls for Marianne first, establishes himself as not only a friend of Marianne's but her whole family's. All of his actions throughout the film are performed out of love for Marianne, but these actions are not read as romantic by Marianne because there is no fast-burning fire and (seemingly) little commonality between them.

Marianne's mother cautions her, pointing out that the romances she cites all meet pitiful ends. In return, Marianne describes such love as not pitiful but "glorious."

Brandon and Mobius express their love for Marianne and Loki through practical means. Their actions are predominantly viewed as marks of friendship rather than marks of romantic love. It should be noted that in both cases, no verbal declaration of love, nor any physical declaration of love, such as a kiss, is ever made by either Mobius or Brandon on screen. Brandon's unrequited love, however, is readily apparent to everyone (the characters and the audience) due his presentation of the opposite gender.

Brandon, upon seeing Marianne struggle cutting reeds for weaving, offers her his pocketknife. Mobius, knowing that confrontation with Sylvie at Roxxcart will be dangerous, offers Loki his daggers for protection.

Brandon, recognizing Marianne’s need for artistic pursuits, gifts her a piano. Mobius, recognizing Loki’s need for validation, provides him with words of affirmation, encouraging Loki’s talents in magic and cunning.

Brandon, acknowledging Marianne’s love for Willoughby, invites Willoughby to a picnic at his estate despite his distaste for him. Mobius, acknowledging Loki’s love for Sylvie, frees Loki and is pruned despite his jealousy of her.

Marianne, out in the rain and in distress over her loss of Willoughby, succumbs to a deadly fever. Loki, kicked through a time door and in distress over his loss of Sylvie, succumbs to time-slipping.

Brandon and Mobius actively make themselves available in response to their loved one's individual break-ups with ZERO expectation of having their love returned.

Brandon, concerned that Marianne's illness may kill her, rides nonstop for hours to retrieve her mother during a storm. Mobius, concerned for Loki's wellbeing, risks his life on the loom's gangway, risking exposure to temporal radiation and death.

In the end, both Brandon and Mobius are the triumphant winners of Marianne's and Loki's hearts.

Indeed, Brandon reads poetry to Marianne, and when he announces he must "away", Marianne worriedly asks "where?", demonstrating her desire for him to stay. Brandon teases her, fulfilling Marianne's need for romance and excitement by saying, "it is a secret."

Mobius, meanwhile, begins to open himself up to worldly pleasures, allowing himself to drop the strict, no-nonsense behavior he exhibited in S1. Loki, in turn, begins to provide him with the type of emotional support Mobius has consistently given him since the beginning (yes, he has a jealous meltdown, but he recovers relatively quickly).

The outcome of their successes, however, diverge due to their gender presentation.

Whereas Brandon happily marries Marianne ...

... Loki returns Mobius's selfless love with a sacrifice of his own, and they are separated.

#lokius #loki #mobius #loki series #loki season 2 #lgbt representation #lgbtqia #queer representation #lgbtqia representation #loki meta #loki analysis #my meta #my analysis #jane austen #sense and sensibility

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kaybreezy3000 · 2 months

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Five is your employer and he's not happy with you. As the night unfolds, you have a very unexpected encounter with him...

~Rated somewhere between G and Mature because, like many of my stories, you can easily skip the sexually explicit parts. (see notes)

This story takes place where we left off with season three, but 5 years later. The name is a nod to hints of what might be coming, though I doubt the Netflix writers are going with my little storyline I have created for you.

~This one is sort of gift to all fanfiction readers and writers. May you always keep passwords on our documents and devices, or maybe not... 😂👌

Warnings: Mildly sexual themes in the middle. This does turn sexually explicit in the second half, but you don't need to read that part to enjoy the story and there is a warning when that starts if you aren't into all that stuff.

(8,711 words)

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

'Hargreeves home for wayward boys'

It was the end of the day and the Hargreeves family had all disappeared. You knew they were somewhere privately hashing things out, but as just a lowly intern working on their project, staying for that to happen was not necessary. They would call you later to give their decision and then you’d submit the order.

Speaking of which, your phone rang with a call from your boss and it distracted you as you were collecting your things. Arms full and not realizing you had forgotten something, you used your backend to bump open the large doors of the Umbrella Academy. The doors clicked closed behind you and you walked out into the refreshingly cool evening air.

Downstairs in the musty kitchen, Allison threw her head back, letting out a tired sigh before saying, “Guys, arguing is getting us nowhere. We need to end this debate. The order needs to be placed today or we won’t have the sign back when the masons are scheduled to be here to install it.”

Viktor set his empty mug on the counter next to a pair of Grace’s discarded rubber dishwashing gloves. “Why don’t we just vote on it?” he proposed, uneasily glancing at Five.

“I say we go with ‘The Hargreeves Home for Wayward Boys,” Diego loudly declared while raising his arm high, to which the rest of the Hargreeves abruptly raised their hands, making it a unanimous vote, if not for Five, sitting forward with his head in his hands and his elbows on the kitchen table as he venomously glared at all of them.

Five locked eyes with Luther. “Really?” he snapped.

His brother nervously smiled. “Ah… Sorry. I changed my mind, buddy.”

“Don’t call me buddy.” Five angrily shook his head. “You changed your mind, huh? Sorry to inform you but clearly this one doesn’t work any better!”

Not getting Five’s belittling joke, Luther looked to Ben who silently rolled his eyes for about the hundredth time in the last hour.

“And you,” Five roared, pointing his finger at him. “You had shown signs of intelligence but now I have my doubts. Maybe if you keep rolling your eyes like that you might find evidence of a brain up there. This name doesn’t even make any sense! We aren’t just admitting boys!”

“Sure it does,” Lila disagreed. “You’re the only one who doesn’t think so but that’s because it’s very hard for children to think clearly when they haven’t had their nap. Should we call Grace to fetch your blankie and to make your bottle so you can go to bed early?”

Five balled his hand into fists under the table. “You should use glue instead of Chapstick. I hear it does wonders for making you more tolerable to be around,” he childishly shot back to which Lila merely laughed at him. “So, this is it…nobody else thinks that name sounds awful?” he hissed at anyone still looking at him.

Getting up with a loud squeal of his wooden chair leg on the cracked linoleum flooring, Klaus patted Five on the upper back, but his brother jerked away from the gesture. “Oh, come on, Five,” he said followed by an airy laugh. “It’s perfect. Even that cute intern upstairs thought so. After we gave her the low down dirty-dirty on our real family history, she’s the one that came up with it.”

Five scowled even more.

“Ahhh,” Diego obliviously sighed. “Things are finally coming together with this project and I’m feeling a Hargreeves style celebration coming on.” He draped his arm around the back of Lila’s chair looking at her, but she was too busy smirking at Five’s increasingly animated display of sour expressions.

“Let’s all go out!” Klaus excitedly added. “I know a great place for karaoke.” Five got up, slinging his suit coat over his shoulder as he started to walk away but Klaus snatched his arm. “Hold it! You’re coming with us.”

Five swifty swatted his hand away, distastefully brushing his brother’s invisible fingerprints from the crisp sleeve of his white dress shirt. “I’d rather shove a pinecone up my ass and let it sit in there until it dissolved than have to be in the presence of all of you for even five more minutes,” he smoothly retorted while flipping up his cuff to check the time.

Klaus’s bright eyes grew wide with glee. “If you are looking for things to shove up your ass, I can think of way more painfully pleasant options. Come on, let me tell you all about it while we decide where we are going to eat.”

Skirting around the table, Five dodged Klaus before he could put an arm around him to drag him in with the rest of the group who were now talking about dinner plans and the epic songs they were going to belt out later.

After breaking away and muttering under his breath that they were all a bunch of idiots, Five slowly wandered up the stairs. With his fists firmly jammed in his pockets and his shoulders inclined forward, his gaze remained empty though his thoughts were anything but.

After making numerous other suggestions, they had all disregarded his concerns, just like they always did. Whether it was trying to help them avoid apocalyptic ends or simply being somewhere at a specific time to save their own asses, he never could win in this family.

Five cringed as he thought about the name they wanted to use and what it was really referring to.

He was the embodiment of the wayward boy in his family’s less than glorious story. Worst yet, the nod to Homer’s Odyssey, being that it was a narrative Reginald had forced them to remember by heart, was just one of the millions of reasons why, in his head, this was a horrible choice.

That man was an evil incarnate, and Five may have for a time wanted his love and acceptance or even in the very least, his recognition, but he never got them. They’d been used and dumped in a new world without their powers, but at least they had been left with their identities and their childhood home, but those days of bowing to that vile alien parading around as a man were long gone. Five did not want to be associated in any way with Reginald Hargreeves and that title for their new foundation did just that.

“How could they not see that?” he asked himself, trying to work through all this but coming up with nothing other than they were morons. “The last name Hargreeves was already on half the buildings in the city!” he shouted to no one, his voice getting eaten up in the long corridor as his dress shoes stomped along the black and white tiled floor.

As Five watched his siblings raise their hands in favor of the symbolic title, he felt even more set apart from them than he ever had. That feeling wasn’t anything new, and there were many reasons for it, but today, he’d had enough of them not listening to him and he wasn’t about to let this one go until he’d tried one more avenue of attack.

Tromping through the foyer, thinking he’d see you or the lead designer, Five glanced inside the formal dining room but neither of you were there. Looking over the stacks of blueprints on the table, Five spotted your laptop. It was lying among the other items strewn in the large mess but your coat and bag that had been hanging on the back of the chair were gone. Thinking you must have forgotten it and that you had gone for the day, he picked up the streamlined electronic device and carried it with him out of the room.

He’d been dying to lay into you for convincing his family that this asinine idea was the way to go. Sadly, since you weren’t there, that would have to wait and that left him in no better mood, but as he carried your laptop down the hall, he was quickly developing a new plan.

Thinking of you, Five could just see you looking at him like you always did-cautiously but kindly.

You were always professional and extra nice to him in your interactions, despite him being dismissively rude at times. You’d laugh off his detached behavior and truthfully, he didn’t mind the sound of it, or your sweet smiles, or how your legs looked under your many short skirts and smart little slingback heels. He’d never let himself do more than appreciate the view when you weren’t looking, and he’d thought you were about as harmless as a chipmunk marinated in fertilizer that was walking sideways.

He was wrong on that, and worse yet, he simply didn’t get you and Five did not like when he didn’t understand things.

His lips pulled to the side as he noted your almost unnatural ability to remain persistently positive when working with a bunch of ridiculous assholes. Looking past some of your more appealing qualities, he quickly concluded that you were about as stupid and fake as fake could get.

You had stepped on the wrong man’s toes and this meant war.

With steam practically billowing out his ears over how mad he was at you, Five became absorbed in the thought of pissing some of his own mocking sunshine into your Clever Crisp cereal and he knew just the way to do it and get rid of you.

“Perfect fucking idea my ass,” he said through clenched teeth as his diabolical grin spread.

Five opened Reginald’s old office door and flopped down at the large mahogany desk. Flipping the laptop open, he flexed his fingers, his eyes roaming over the keys as the screen came to life.

They could call the design team and tell them the decision was made, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something about it and make it look like you were the one that fucked things up, which as an added bonus that would probably get you fired.

If the very expensive stone signage they were ordering came and didn’t say what his family had wanted it to say, at that point, you’d be in deep shit, and he’d simply look the other way feigning innocence. He’d argue that at that point it was an issue of money and managing their extremely tight budget, so, to be sensible, they should just go with it as is-which would be his title of choice.

To Five, this was a win-win. Nosy intern fired, and no more demeaning name that was a reference to him hanging above the academy’s front door.

It was a simple matter of typing in his idea in the order form, and sitting in front of him was the means to do it. Call or no call, he’d send this in first. The work would get started and it would be too late.

Five was no hacker but over the last few years of being holed up at the Umbrella Academy due to having to live the life of a shut-in teenager again, he’d learned a thing or two about modern tech. With a few clicks, he was into your files.

“Where is it?” he hummed as his eyes ran over the images of little manila folders. There were tons of them and the way you had them labeled was not helping.

Clicking on one that appeared to have image files attached to it had seemed logical since he was looking for a mockup of the graphic design they’d be using going forward for all their letterhead and signage.

“Shit,” Five scoffed as he saw tiny blips of hundreds of your personal photos. These had nothing to do with what he needed and that also meant this computer was not just something you used for work. He was just about to close the file since it was obviously personal in nature but then an image of you when you were slightly younger caught his eye.

Your cheeks were a little bit rounder and your hair a little longer. When he clicked on the next shot and it was one where you were on some kind of vacation and you were wearing a swimsuit, he leaned forward.

He stared at the picture, suddenly intrigued. Opening more pictures, Five realized that same bright smile of yours never faltered in any one of the shots.

It had never crossed his mind that he’d see anything personal while he was digging through your computer, but here it all was and all he had to do was open the files because you foolishly didn’t password protect them.

Driven by curiosity and with nothing else to do for the night, Five dug deeper into your world. He found files with old college assignments which he skimmed over with only moderate interest. Then, clicking on a folder that seemed harmlessly titled, he found himself completely distracted, all at once, totally forgetting what he’d been searching for.

Five scooched even closer to the screen.

The first file he opened was relatively small and he read through it quickly. It was written like some sort of story, or more like part of one. It was about a man that found himself in a version of his body that was much younger looking than he should be. Miraculously he had been through hell and back, and mentally he was much older than he looked, but outwardly he didn’t look any older than his physical age of eighteen. The details of how this all came to be weren’t in this part of her story, but Five immediately recognized the familiarity of the storyline, and he instantly started plowing through the other files in that folder in a sudden need to know what else you’d written.

The files were like snippets of a larger story, not yet fully written or interconnected the way a novel would be, but all of them involved the same two characters, and the scenes were incredibly familiar but also not. Changes to how they actually occurred in real life were subtle enough to make what he was reading fiction, but the similarities were what agitated him and had his defenses on high alert. Even more than that, the male character in your writings was a perfect description of him in all but his name, and the female, though barely described, very much resembled you.

The story laid out that the male character was the infamously lost son of a very wealthy man whose influence held the entire world by the throat. After appearing out of the blue on the doorstep of his family home after years of being missing, this boy chose to keep to himself but that didn’t mean people weren’t aware he was back.

He intentionally carried himself apart from all others, always dressed impeccably, with his dark hair neatly smoothed to one side. He was cold and calculating and always moved with intent, brooding in his mannerisms, but the female in the story also described him as so breathtakingly handsome when he thought no one was looking and he dared to crack a smile.

“She thinks I’m handsome…?” Five breathed as he read on.

The female narrator went on to say, ‘It turned out, that he could storm around the near empty academy all day if he wanted, or even call the president and claim that he was now a 59-year-old man, but sadly that didn’t mean a thing if you had no proof and you looked like a murderously feral kid parading around in your fancy big boy clothes.’

Five’s stomach dropped through the floor. There was no way this wasn’t about him, and you weren't even trying to hide it!

Talking to a character that was said to be one of this tragic figure’s brother’s, the female in the story was told that the boy had no other choice but to abide by laws of normal men unless he wanted to risk the state forcing him into the foster system or worse. All this left him with little choice and a very bad taste in his mouth and he’d been lashing out for years with vengeance about it, ironically acting just like the temperamental teenager he appeared to be..

By the time the woman in the story had come to work for him, years had passed and this character was technically not a kid anymore. Again, because he was too proud to move in with any of his siblings, he’d served his time living behind the walls of the academy his family owned, but those difficult days were no more. It was time to move on, but the female character could see that for all her employer’s outward confidence, the man inside the boy wasn’t sure how to do that.

He still hadn’t found his place in the world. He lived in limbo, completely alone, other than the presence of a robot housekeeper that he called Grace and his siblings still called mom.

He went out but did not act as someone would who was his outward age, yet it wasn’t really his fault because he couldn’t partake in what those his real age did. He dressed like a man on a mission though he had no reason to anymore. Three-piece suits on a teenager and his smug expressions and even more caustically biting words weren’t gaining him any friends on his daily outings or within the tight circle of those he trusted and called family.

The female narrator said, outwardly, he was one thing, but inside, he felt like a joke.

His sharp green eyes spoke of his true age and the trauma of the life he’d lived, but he kept himself in check most of the time, never letting his guard down or letting anyone in for fear that they would see how much he suffered and still does.

Despite his cruelties to even her, the female protagonist said she saw right through him and under all of it was some very special. She said he was worthy of so much more than he was letting himself have.

“What the fuck? What the hell does she mean by special and worthy of more? My life is just fine!” Five fumed.

Five wasn’t just furious about this, he was confused. It didn’t seem like you were trying to actually write a book since none of this it was in any form of order, but he was stumped as to why else you’d be writing such things other than to exploit him somehow and make money by trying to sell some bullshit tell-all story about his fucked-up life.

He shook with fury, his knuckles white as he clenched the wooden armrests on Reginald’s old high back chair.

You had called him out but did so safely from his pretend female’s perspective.

You said this male’s lack of interest in others was just a way to hide how vulnerable and lonely he truly felt!

You said that all his arrogance and cocky remarks were nothing more than a sign that he was desperate for love that he’d never been given, and now didn’t know how to reach for.

You said you felt bad for him!

“I don’t need her fucking sympathy!” Five seethed as he angrily clicked on another much longer file in your writing folder.

Right off, he could tell this one was much different than the others he’d read about your daily exchanges in this fictional yet not fictional narrative you’d been writing about him.

It was set in the same work setting, set in the large manor that the deceptively young male lived. The characters were in a richly decorated office, with dark paneled walls and low light filtering in from the setting sun bleeding through the stained-glass windowpanes. You didn’t need to say this was once this man’s notoriously cruel father’s office for Five to know you were trying to describe the room he was sitting in right now.

The male was sitting in the regal looking chair behind the desk, smug as ever as he stared at the girl. His cool, calculating eyes devoured the entire length of her legs while he slowly but deliberately pushed them apart at the knees, spreading them wide as she submissively sat on the desk in front of him.

Five’s breath hitched as that line and the images described in it played over and over in his head like a naughty ping pong ball.

That saucy passage was Five’s first indication that this story was not like the others and that what he was about to read was not going to be at all like what he’d read so far.

This had turned into some kind of fictional love affair.

Itching heat started to crawl up Five’s neck once he reached the third paragraph and the first lines of dialogue were laid out with perfect effect.

With this male shamelessly observing that under her skirt, the girl was not wearing any panties, she grinned and playfully purred, “You can have me any way you want…”

From there, the two characters proceeded to take things to a place between them that Five had never considered until it was literally being spelled out for him.

As Five read on, parts of him were waking up that had nothing to do with his anger concerning you. The document he was reading was essentially like taking a very seductive trip inside your mind and maybe even more surprising, seeing something that was inside his. It was a firsthand description of how you really saw him, what you wanted from him, and maybe even more scandalously what you wanted to do to him.

Five was not familiar with this kind of writing and the only way he could describe it was explicit, with the descriptions of what was going on being detailed enough that he read the words with a slightly gapped mouth and a rapidly quickening pulse.

The previous files he’d read had focused on emotional and psychological themes, making the barefaced sexual purpose of this one all that much more of a shock. He had no idea you were attracted to him and found his appearance and flippantly dickish behavior so appealing.

If he’d thought you made no sense before, but now he was beyond baffled by you.

As the scene he read moved past him pleasuring you, on to your character kneeling down on the floor between his legs as he confidently opened his pants and he told you to get to work, Five took in a long, deep breath. He reactively moved his hand over the heat between his legs, his palm pressing down the hard length beginning to make itself known under the tightening stretch of fabric covering him.

In spite of his flawlessly pale skin, Five was typically not the type to blush, but by the time he was done reading your story, he felt like his face was on fire and his body was going to spontaneously combust. Unable to stop himself, Five began to more intently rub the aroused flesh hidden under the wool of his pants.

He started reading the story again, and he was so taken by it all that he didn’t hear you walking down the hall.

“Oh, there it is,” you said as you walked in and saw the back of your laptop sitting in front of the last person you had figured you see with it. To make it more bizarre, you didn’t remember leaving it in there and Five was looking at it with the most intense expression you’d ever seen grace his sharply expressive features.

With worry hitting you with the unforgiving force of a tanker truck, you rushed around the large piece of furniture separating you to see what had captured his attention so fully that he only just now looked up at you, finally registering that you were there.

With his hands flying up from his lap, Five tried to clear the screen.

Seeing the title to your very, very naughty story about him on the autosave line, you shrieked out a plethora of swear words, some which you just made up on the fly. Five was sure to have never heard some of your more imaginative curses prior to that moment, but you were pretty sure their meaning was not lost on him based on how he was backing away from you.

You slammed the laptop closed. Then you covered your face with your hands and started pacing as you incoherently mumbled.

Through the cracks between your fingers, you could see that Five was clearly stunned by what had just transpired. He looked like his brain had stopped working, which was impressive since he was a proven genius.

Great. You broke the poor man and all it took was literarily getting your fuck on with him!

Then, instead of flipping out, to your surprise, Five said your name. It came out so soft and unsure and nothing like the way he normally spoke to you. It was the first time he’d ever acknowledged that he knew your name. You had thought that to him, you were just another nameless person they’d hired.

Hearing it, you dropped your hands, revealing a face so red that it only made your body’s less than desirable response accelerate even more, and then you got redder.

Not sure what to say, your next words burst from your mouth. “You must think I am a perverted weirdo! I swear I am not… It’s just…a silly hobby. I- I write things to get them out of my head and I always delete them. I wasn’t going to-"

You didn’t know how to explain yourself, so you squeezed your eyes shut rather than take another second of him sitting there, still as a statue, still staring at you in what you could only guess was horror.

If you weren’t sure that Five was gearing up to bite your head off and report you to the police, you’d almost think his own red-faced expression of distress was cute, but that was only if you didn’t know better. Under his boyish charm, there was a very dangerous man that was about to spring to life. That person had no interest or reason to show someone who’d invaded his privacy any mercy.

Trying to save your ass, you sputtered, “I never write stuff like that, it’s just… Shit. This is basically my worst nightmare. I am so sorry.” You let out a broken sounding moan. You turned around, burying your face in your hands again. “Don’t worry, I am going. I will submit my resignation right away and I will delete that right now.”

Starting to cry, you moved to do just that but Five scared the hell out of you when he snatched your hand away and didn’t let go.

His eyes narrowed and your heart nearly leapt out of your chest. You tried yanking your hand back, but he held fast. “Stop!” he ordered, and you did, sort of. Your entire body trembled as you uselessly pulled, trying to get away. Reeling you back in to face him, Five calmly said, “You better not quit.”

What?

Had you heard him right?

God, he was close. You could feel the heat from his body and the warmth of his breath hitting your lips.

“Please stop crying,” he whispered.

You shook your head.

Undeterred by your inability to speak or to stop your sniffles, Five moved his hand to your waist and his penetrating eyes bore into yours making it impossible to look away. “That little story there…”

He stopped speaking. Suddenly looking flustered he ran his hand back through his hair, rumpling it in the most adorable way.

“You haven’t asked me what I thought about your writing?” he taunted, his voice so low and threatening sounding that you weren’t sure why your feet weren’t moving so you could high-tail it out of there.

Your reply came out as anxious sounding as you felt. “I don’t need to ask. I can tell by the way you are looking at me that you think I am nuts, and you hate me.”

Five drew in a deep breath, his eyes floating to the ceiling for a moment before he held your eye again and countered, “Well, if you think that, then you are right about the other things you wrote about me. I am a complete asshole and treat people like shit, but that is not my intent right now, despite my past and what my face says. You were very accurate and astute when it comes to nailing down who I really am, but perhaps when it comes to how I really feel about all this, and you, you shouldn’t be looking at my face.”

Before you could ask him what he meant by that, Five slid his arm around your waist, pulling your hips flush with his, and that forceful maneuver made it very clear what he thought about what you wrote.

Wiping your eyes as your heart raced, you muttered a very unintelligent sounding, “Oh.”

Five’s excruciatingly soft looking lips pulled up on one side, the look of it matching what you only now recognized in the sparking emerald of his shining eyes. There was a menacing level of mischief in him that was all the more strengthened by his burning arousal.

Confidently taking you by the wrist, Five led you back to the desk. Pressing you back against the unforgiving wood surface, directly between him and his chair as he said, “I am sorry I have been so…” His smile widened and you felt like you could melt from the sheer sight of his dimple deepening. “I have been so blind. You are right about everything you said about me.”

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you tried not to lose it over the way he was looking at you or the feel of his long fingers trailing up your thighs, not stopping until they were hidden just under the hem of your skirt where he let them settle.

Not sure what was happening, you shakily asked, “How much did you read?”

“All of it. Twice,” he blew across your lips as his teasingly hovered so close it was making you dizzy. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. Your writing is very good,” Five added as he flipped your hair aside and his mouth brushed with featherlight gentleness against your neck, making spiraling fireworks of tingles run up and down your spine.

You shut your eyes, feeling like you were having an outer body experience as Five placed tender but persistently more certain kisses along your throat and the shell of your ear. “You’re not mad?” you quietly asked, lost in his extremely loving touches.

Five’s fingers came up, moving a strand of hair from your forehead before those same fingertips tickled across your cheek then gripped your chin, forcing your face up next to his.

Your droopy eyes reactively flipped open.

“No. I am not mad,” he quietly responded, the comforting green of his eyes all but overtaken with the darkness of his growing lust. “I was mad at first and not just because you like to write stories about me. At first, I was hell bent on ending you for interfering in matters that don’t concern you. Pushing my family to choose such an inadequate name for our foundation was your crime and I was going to make you pay, but I see all that a little differently now. Funny how hearing a little truth done in the right way can make a very old, yet forever young fool see the light,” he finished with a chuckle that sounded so unbelievably charming coming from such a normally serious person.

“You don’t like the name, and you wanted to end me? That’s why you stole my laptop?”

Five laughed again. “Thanks to you, the name might be growing on me.” Ignoring your other questions he somewhat less assuredly said, “Is it true what you said about me… That part you wrote about how in the face of how much I lost, the fact that I never stopped fighting to change things for the better was the most admirable and important quality a person could have?”

“Yes. Of course I meant it. You’re an example of what it means to be strong and not give up and that’s what these kids need, and that is why I suggested that name after hearing your brother Klaus ramble on for hours about your life and how wonderful you are. You are someone they can look up to and that name seemed like it spoke of the trials yet also many triumphs of your amazing life.” Seeing Five’s face light up and feeling brave, you cautiously added, “From what I hear, we are all lucky you never gave up and aren’t lost anymore. If not for you, there wouldn’t be a world left. We owe our life to you.”

Five looked down at the minimal space between you, his dark lashes fanning his beautifully flushed cheeks.

“That’s not necessarily true, and in many ways, I am still lost,” he admitted. “You were right, I push people away. I lack basic social skills and I have been way too much of an arrogant prick to own that, and for it, I am alone.” His smoldering eyes flipped back up. “But I don’t want that. I want someone that sees me the way you do and isn’t scared of who I really am.”

The slightest tic as his jaw tensed was the only sign that Five wasn’t as sure of himself as he appeared.

“Are you scared of me?” he provocatively lured, almost as if he were baiting you.

You croaked back a very embarrassing sounding, “No.”

Looking like he loved that, Five excitedly asked, “Good, then will you let me show you how sorry I am for being a dick, and how much I appreciate you making me see all this in a new way? You are right. Nothing sticks it to my old man like making this place in name and purpose into something about giving people less fortunate a second chance. That is not what he’s about and using his name and things he knows are a jab at him is a perfect fuck you.”

That smile of Five’s that could explode a girl’s lady bits came out to play again and with it his hand ran down your back, gripping you by hard on the ass.

“Since you seemed to like the idea of it, and you haven’t kicked me in the balls yet, will you give me a chance to make your fiction come to life?” he courteously questioned, though none of this conversation had anything to do with any form of normal social decorum.

As his words hit home, Five quirked a dark brow at you, and again, ever so subtly, he let you get a feel of his desire as he trapped your body between his and the desk.

“What I lack in experience, I tend to make up with determination and my ability to quickly learn even the most complex concepts and tasks,” he added hopefully.

Squirming a little, your eyes flit over the contours of Five’s face as you tried to imagine the older man that he really was, but like usual, you could only nail that part of him down in the unnaturally assured way he held himself. Like it had from the first time you laid eyes on him, the paradox that was Five Hargreeves only made you want him more.

“I could let you do that…” you flirtatiously dangled, “as long as you aren’t planning on ending me still. Being all scary like you are is hot and all, but the threats against my life and livelihood are sort of a lady boner kill.”

Letting out another laugh that you could hardly believe you were hearing coming from him, Five nodded. “You aren’t going anywhere, sweetheart. Not until I give us both a happy ending and I don’t mean that kind of ending,” he growled just before his lips crashed against yours and his hand moved behind your neck, locking you to him.

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

⚠️This concludes the PG 13 ending option. Go on if you want the explicit ending option.

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

Five’s kiss took your breath away. His tongue pushed inside your mouth as he searched for more.

His kiss was perfectly unpracticed, warm and innocent.

The feel of him letting himself go in this way had you securing your legs around his backside, encouraging him to take even more, which he did, urging your bottom up onto the desk where he held you on the edge.

The protrusion of Five’s erect cock jabbed into your abdomen as he thrust himself against you as if he was already fucking you. “Fuck, I fucking want you,” he wetly gasped as he let your mouth go, only to assault your neck and then your collarbone with nips and needy kisses that were sure to leave their mark.

With his sucking and well timed bites, he was hitting all your most sensitive spots, and you knew without asking that he’d learned just what to do to drive you wild from what he’d just read. As your head dropped back and your eyes closed, you couldn’t believe that a story that was never meant for his eyes had accidentally stoked this passion in him and had now come to this.

Feeling his hand moving higher under your skirt, you let out a huffy little moan, followed by a whining sound. With a smile, Five looked up, looking first at your puffy lips and then your glossy eyes as if something had just occurred to him.

As you were trying to figure out why he’d stopped, he leaned into your ear, softly speaking something in another language. “Sei così bella. Voglio conoscere ogni parte di te ed essere tutto ciò che pensi che io sia..” (You are so beautiful. I want to know every part of you and be all the things you think I am.)

As Five moved along, kissing your jaw, you didn’t even get to ask what he’d said before his fingers were dropping down over your underwear.

“Well, well, well…” he tutted. “You aren’t supposed to be wearing these.” With that, Five remedied that deviation from your story, flipping your legs together and then tugging your panties down so he could stuff them in his back pocket.

His lips brushed yours and you trembled from that as well as the sensation of his fingers coming at you back and forth. They were gliding between your folds as he gauged your reactions to his explorations with a look of devoted persistence that proved he wasn’t kidding when he said he was all about learning the best way to please you.

Soon Five had you making sounds that were somewhere between pathetic whimpers and pleas for more. Then with no warning, he pushed two fingers inside you, and half mad, your mind spiraled into chaos ad he crooked the digits upwards. He worked them in and out with an intensity that was bordering on too much and your body spasmed around him, your legs at his backside clenching him tighter before going limp as you cried out his name.

Five smiled with satisfaction, pulling back just a little to watch your chest heaving and your body writhe.

“That’s it, honey, only next time I want the entire city to know I am fucking you,” he smugly informed before diving back in to kiss you again, all the while his long fingers never stopped dragging out every last tremor of your release.

Even in your state of bliss you could tell that Five was trying and failing to one-handedly undo his belt. Softly pushing him back, you weren’t sure he was going to relent but when he did, he looked humorously desperate.

“Wait you breathed. You can have me as many times as you want and in any way you want, but first there’s something I’ve been dying to do to you.”

That perked Five’s attention.

You pulled your lip between your teeth for only a moment before you pounced on him, your humiliation from earlier now nothing more than an afterthought as you pushed Five back and down into his chair. His vest buttons were your first target, and you relished the feeling of Five straining as you took control and your hands worked, unpackaging him.

Next, the shiny little buttons on his dress shirt popped open, one-by-one.

Once done, you ran your hands across Five’s exposed upper body, loving how firm and smooth his skin was. The contours of his leanly defined abs made him look like some kind of sex God. The very fine trail of dark hair leading from his belly button down, along with the ‘V’ shaped arrow of his muscle leading into his pants, were a sight to behold on their own but they were also drawing your attention to another intriguing a part of him that you could already tell was plenty more than average sized.

Not one to be outdone, while you were checking him out, Five suddenly reached up and ripped your blouse open, making it your second clothing casualty if you counted your underpants that he’d stolen.

His voice was barely more than a whisper but this time you were pretty sure you knew what the single word he spoke meant.

“Perfetta.” (Perfect.)

As your mouth moved to his, he shot forward to meet you, but Five was still mostly letting you have your way with him as you finished undoing his pants and pulled them open so you could fish him out of the thin cotton restraining him.

“My turn,” you warned before coming back to Five’s awaiting mouth, your kiss muffling his groan as your hand pumped his hard length, testing him and finding him deliciously responsive and dripping with pre-cum.

You saw a tinge of madness in his gaze as your thumb circled, teasing the slit of skin and the ridge surrounding the underside of his tip. Your adoring kisses moved down his neck, cherishing every curve and dip of his flesh as he swallowed down what you could only assume was how much he wanted to move this along.

One more kiss, your tongue tracing along his teeth before you sucked at his bottom lip and another spark of need had him pushing down on the armrests so he could better rock his shaft up into your hand even more than he already was.

Five’s thoughts came out in a rush of disjointed words. “Plea- Please. Oh, fuck yes,” he grunted and gasped.

His chocolatey brown hair fell in his eyes, but it didn’t matter because they were closed so beautifully in his state of total surrender.

“I have waited so long to have this,” he groaned as you jerked him harder and faster.

“And you’ve waited long enough,” you whispered against his lips before slipping lower, kissing his jaw and quivering stomach muscles along the way as you moved down between his legs.

As your mouth found him, you could only hope that Five felt truly young and free as he looked. You meant it in your story when you said that he deserved this and so much more.

You took him in, letting him push down your throat until it was too much, but even then you fought to hold your mouth around him, encasing his throbbing cock with hollowed cheeks and the flat of your tongue.

You knew you’d given him some form of peace when he anxiously reached back, tugging at his own hair. A warmth started filling your mouth, not stopping as you swallowed the flood of his seed down. His eyes sprung wide, and his mouth dropped open, a guttural sound flying from his lips as his head fell back helplessly against the upholstered chair.

You knew right then; you’d never forget that beautiful look on his face or the beautiful sounds he’d made. But more than that, you’d never forget the way Five made you feel when he looked at you.

You weren’t one-hundred percent sure that he had never been with a woman like this, but it had been strongly hinted by his brother that may have been the case. Just the fact that he trusted you to be his first brought a whole new depth to this moment. It was so empowering, it felt like pure energy was running through your veins.

Of all people, Five had chosen you.

Through his soft panting, Five looked all sorts of delirious, slouching in his father’s grand chair, with his clothes askew and his dick in your hand as you gave him a few final licks and proceeded to stretch your jaw and shyly smile up at him. Not about to let the fun end, you crawled up in his lap, letting your legs fall through the armrests at his sides so you were straddling him.

Five’s eyes fluttered open and closed as his hands gripped your hips and he gave you a little bounce on his knees. He smiled so happily and sleepily it made your heart skip a beat. Then he said, “Ready for round two, gorgeous?”

“Are you,” you teased, letting your fingers weave together around the backside of his neck as you leaned back so you could admire him in all his post organism, messy haired glory.

“Not yet, but I will be soon,” Five replied and he clearly meant it too. He was still partially hard, and by the way he had just started rubbing your tits and looked totally enthralled with how they were hardening for him, you were pretty sure that with a little more educational exploration of your body it wouldn’t take him long to be ready to go again.

“Five,” you breathed as he plucked and teased your nipples.

“Hmmm,” he sweetly hummed as his mouth found one, sucking on it with increasing pressure until you squeaked, so he resorted again to softly groping and nipping instead.

“What did you say to me before?” you questioned while still recovering from that.

“I asked you to go on a date with me after we finish this little reenactment of yours,” he replied, his words slow and thick. “I need an older woman like you to show me the way of the world and keep me in line and nothing would make me happier than to take you to dinner tonight and tomorrow night and...”

Oh my God.

Gone was the jerk you’d been walking on pins and needles around, and here was a man pouring out his heart to you though you hardly knew each other. To add to your dismay, you could tell he at least partially was lying. There’s no way Five had said all of that while glammering you with his ability to speak in seductive sounding languages. His arrogant little smirk as he lied only added to his power over you, yet you found that all you wanted was to kiss it right off his pretty lying face.

“Well, is it a plan? Will you go on a date with me?” he pushed, while also pushing his hardening shaft into the hand that you had been using to leisurely stroke him.

You laughed at the absurdity of the situation you’d gotten yourself into. The age differences you were dealing with were complicated to say the least, not to mention that you’d already messed up how normal people went about starting this kind of thing.

Doing your best pouty face, you pretended to be offended. “I am not older than you. Not really”

“No, you are not,” he agreed then frowned too and just like that, you wanted to do anything in your power to make him smile again.

Leaning in, you gave Five the softest, most chaste kiss you could.

“I take that as a yes to both aforementioned questions,” he mumbled, not even breaking your kiss as his arms fastened around you and he started lifting you both out of the chair.

Not stopping, in a matter of seconds, Five had you repositioned on top of the desk with his body lined up between your legs.

With his dick in hand, Five didn’t look at all embarrassed as he jerked himself off as he patiently waited for your answer.

This man had said he wasn’t going to end you but right then you knew he was ruin you for anyone else.

“Yes to both,” you frantically gulped, to which Five instantly started swiping his cockhead across your slicked wet entrance.

“Ohhh, fuu-ah-auck!” he moaned as he sank forward and your body stretched and clenched around him with each slow dip inside you that he took.

Biting down your own much higher pitched curse, your fingernails went up under his shirt, stripping it and his vest off.

As Five’s entire length disappeared all the way inside you your body folded around him.

You saw stars and Five also looked perfectly shattered by what he must have been feeling and seeing.

Clinging to him, your fingers dug into his back and he carefully began to roll his hips, fucking you deeply at first, only switching to full and more abrupt thrusts the more your body accepted him.

It was as things were starting to really get moving that Luther walked in.

“Hey, Five?” he started to question before he saw you and what Five was doing to you and then let out a very startled sounding, “Oh SHIT!”

You were already trying to cover breasts but Five didn’t seem concerned about it at all. With hardly a look up over your shoulder, with his cock still slamming into your cunt as he bucked his strong hips, hitting you just right, he roughly grunted out, “I. Smell. Something. Burning. Arrr-you trying to think again, Luther?”

Five’s larger than life brother was floundering, the heels of his shoes clumsily moving backwards before he ran into the wall.

“I urrr-umm… I felt bad. I mean, we felt bad,” he frantically rambled. “I was coming back to see if you were feeling any better about the naming thing. We can go with your idea if you really want and…and we were hoping you changed your mind about coming out to the karaoke bar with us and…shit. This is awkward!”

Still using your legs for leverage as he fucked you as hard as he could, looking up with a goofy smile you’d never seen him make as he casually blew his hair out of his face, Five spoke as if nothing was amiss at all. “I love the ‘Hargreeves Home for Wayward Boys’ name. It’s perfect, just like my smart lady right here said it was, but really Luther… No shit this is awkward for you! Get the fuck out. Can’t you see that I’m a little busy?”

As your body started to tense and then fall into quaking vibrations of uncoiling heat all compounded by flaming embarrassment, just then, Ben rounded the corner, letting out a cynical sounding laugh as his hand flew over his mouth then came down slapping his leg instead.

“Come on, big guy. Looks like this isn’t the time for a family chat,” he said, guiding his frozen brother out of the room.

Alone again, you were somewhere between orgasmic bliss and an odd sort of mortification filled with the feeling that nothing really mattered but the man whose head had fallen against your chest as he started to spill inside you while muttering praises that made your heart feel like it might burst.

This was nuts. All of this was. But somehow, it made sense. It was perfect and you couldn’t have written it happening any better.

Somehow, with Five and his crazy family, you knew things would always be unexpected and extraordinary, but you were ready for it. The once broken but not beaten wayward boy was proving he was far from giving up and he didn’t need special powers to make your wildest dreams come true. He just needed to be the person he'd always been.

Thanks for reading, lovies. ❤️

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kiwiana-writes · 15 days

Text

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

I said I wasn’t gonna share any more of the Anastasia AU considering how much I’ve shared already. Turns out I lied 😂 After publishing two fics in the last week, including the snippet y’all salivated over on Wednesday, I just straight up didn’t have any more new words in me this weekend. So have some slightly older—but I believe as yet unseen—words instead 😉

“Do you have any idea,” Alex starts, no greeting or acknowledgement that these are the first words they’ve exchanged in three years in sight as he runs a hand through his curls, “how many James Smiths there are in the DMV?”

“A great deal, I should imagine.” James’ eyes absolutely do not follow the way Alex’s fingers run through his hair before disappearing into the pocket of his chinos. He’s well aware that his name is nothing special; he’ll never know if the choice was a deliberate on, picked to ensure that he would be lost in a sea of anonymity.

“About 738, according to my friend Nora. It sure fucking felt like it when I was combing through social media profiles to find out where you worked.” He glances over at Tiff, whose gaze is flickering between the two of them; James can now more easily interpret the expression he couldn’t before. It’s something that’s half holy hell, he’s even more attractive in person and half what does the First Son want with you?

James can’t bring himself to disagree with either assertion.

Tagging @agame-writes @anincompletelist @celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @piratefalls @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

#six sentence sunday #kiwiana-writes #wip: years of dreams just can't be wrong

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reasonsforhope · 3 months

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hey i get what youre trying to say with the taylor swift post but as of a few days ago shes trying to sue a college student who posts her (publicly available) flight logs. she very much does not give a shit about her carbon emissions and she shouldn’t be celebrated for her mediocre attempts to seem climate-conscious

I get what you're saying, definitely. I also did actually know about the thing with the college student when I posted that, so I wanted to give some context about why I made that post:

First, I personally didn't view it as celebrating her so much as celebrating progress. I think that if we never acknowledge wins, we'll end up dispirited very quickly

Second, recognizing when people decide to be less shitty is, at least I think, an important carrot in the carrot-and-stick dynamic of using public opinion to influence public figures

Lastly - and this may well be an unpopular opinion - but I don't actually hold her actions re: the college student against her

Why?

Well, for one, it was a cease and desist letter, not an attempted lawsuit. A cease and desist letter isn't legally binding, nor is it the start of a lawsuit - it's more like she's Putting Him On Notice. A cease and desist order can be followed by a lawsuit, if it's ignored, but it doesn't initiate one. Likely Taylor Swift will try several other steps of resolution before actually telling her lawyers to sue this guy, if only because the headlines would Not look good (x, x)

But more than that, I don't hold it against her because when Taylor Swift says that it's a matter of life and death for her, I believe that's very true.

Like, don't get me wrong, I'm not mad about her flight data being up either. And I'm not particularly a fan of Taylor Swift

But I also think that if I had to read through the rape and death threats she gets on an almost-certainly-daily basis, I'd want to vomit.

And I think that was true before Trump and his minions got obsessed with the idea that she's the keystone in the next Biden-election-stealing Pentagon psyops plot. Now - especially in the days right before the Superbowl, when this alleged conspiracy is supposed to happen - I don't even want to think about the brutality of the threats she's receiving

(For anyone going "Uh, wtf?" about the MAGA Superbowl Taylor Swift conspiracy thing, yes, I hate to inform you that it's A Whole Thing. More info here: x, x, x, x, x, x)

Taylor Swift does have stalkers, and now she has a bunch of MAGA paramilitary conspiracy theorists absolutely furious with her. If I were her, I'd want to do every single thing I could to keep information on my movements and in-the-moment location off the internet, too

tl;dr: I don't necessarily think she cares about the environment, but I'm not mad at her for sending a cease and desist letter because I think without her extensive security, she would be in real danger now, including possibly danger of being killed by armed MAGA conspiracy theorists

You're allowed to be mad at her and dislike her (obviously!), you're allowed to totally disagree with my attitude toward the cease and desist. I just wanted to share my rationale for including the post (and it is something I went back and forth on tbh)

#Anonymous #ask #me #taylor swift #celebrities #private jets #planes #cw rape mention #cw vomit mention #cw stalking #sidenote I'm really not sure why “she's going to endorse Joe Biden at the Superbowl” counts as a conspiracy theory #much less worth KILLING HER over #but they're straight up going on about her being an official asset for pentagon psyops #so #apparently it is #edited quickly to reflect the fact that she's accused of being a pentagon psyop asset #not a deep state member #literally only because she's not in any kind of official political anything I'm sure

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mytragedyperson · 8 months

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Honestly TCF/LCF is great. I'm rereading it from the beginning, I've never actually finished it, but honestly the amount of times Cale just wanders off for hours, last seen in the slums or a random tea shop and just comes home with a Choi Han or two children from the Cat Tribe and just no one questions it. The only one who does is Hans but even then it's just wanting to care for the kittens. That I understand, he had no way of knowing they're cat tribe but Ron knows from the second he sees them and just doesn't question how, why, where and when he met these cat tribe children . And it's similar for choi han. We know he saw him coming in the gate and Deruth and Hans got the tragic backstory, but none of them questioned why exactly he was in the residential area near the gate to stumble across him in the first place. Also for a second I forgot Cale was 18 and just imagined Beacrox seeing Cale going in the slums and shortly after reappearing with cat tribe children and just thinking Cale had like had children with a cat tribe person, especially since Hong has red hair. I forget how old Hong actually is at the beginning so that didn't help matters. The way he just picks up strays. Like he randomly decides to smuggle Taylor and Cage into the capital, which I imagine is a crime, but literally no one with him questions this decision and tries to say hey maybe don't do this illegal thing. And again I get Ron and Beacrox not reacting, ones an assassin and the other is a torture expert. But the fact that Hilsman, Hans and anyone else with them is just on board with this plan? Like don't disagree with it, don't question it, just go along with it? I get that Cales their young master but everyone just immediately goes along with his plans no matter how insane they are and only really have a problem when Cales plan includes I do something that results in me getting hurt or passing out, which, to be fair, in the first hundred chapters, usually isn't actually part of the plan, it just kind of happens. Meanwhile Cale is just in denial, acting like the sane one. Let me tell you, when people you consider insane are all surrounding you and following plans, chances are you're not as sane or normal as you think.

Also if you for whatever reason have a problem with me using Beacrox instead of Vicross or calling it Trash of the Counts family instead of lout of the counts family. That was the first translation I've seen. This also means I may call Rain City Western City because that's what it says in the translation I'm reading. I don't think it's a big deal but I saw a tweet complaining about it and particularly calling it Trash of the counts family instead of lout of the counts family, which confused me because I knew it as that first and so, when I was reading fanfiction and saw the name Vicross Molran I was like who? I can't have met them yet. I've since learned this is Beacrox Molan, and Beacrox is what I call him. I won't apologise it because that would be dumb but I want it to be noted that this is all purely die to the translation I'm reading

#trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #tcf novel #tcf #lcf #cale henituse #kim rok soo #choi han #ron molan #beacrox molan #hong tcf #on tcf #deruth henituse #deputy butler hans

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magravenwrites · 1 month

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Do Not Go Where I Cannot Follow:

Part 1:

Finan x Reader

A/N: A massive thank you to @axe-does-writing for beta reading this for me, you're the best 🥰

This is set during season 4 as the Coocham squad are travelling through Mercia to avoid the sickness.

Warnings: symptoms of sickness, angst, keeping secrets, established relationship

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or GIF

You had lost count of how many days you had been travelling, trekking through Mercia on foot with the children, trying to avoid danger and the dreaded sickness.

It was only due to Eadith's bravery that you had managed to survive for this long; standing up to her brother so that you might escape. Though this brought you all some semblance of safety, you knew it would not last. Not if Edward’s men caught you. With this in mind, you decided to keep moving until you could find somewhere safer to rest.

Your feet had begun to ache, and Aelfwynn had started to become a dead-weight in your arms. It was a strain you weren’t sure you could continue with in your present state, but you were determined not to say anything until you absolutely had to; everyone had enough to deal with without you becoming a burden too.

Releasing a slow, measured breath, you adjusted Aelfwynn in your arms, trying not to show how much you were struggling. Luckily, with only Osferth behind you, you had managed to avoid detection.

Until now.

“Give her to me.”

Looking to your left, you found Osferth had sped up to walk beside you, already holding his arms out ready to take Aelfwynn from you. The look on his face brooked no argument and you could not find it within yourself to disagree with him. For all he was such a sweet and caring man, he could be very stubborn, a trait you were sure he had picked up from your husband, Finan. Without any complaints, you carefully transferred the young girl into his arms, making sure her head was comfortably settled on his shoulder before continuing to catch up with the others.

You hadn’t realised how much your slow pace had caused you both to fall behind.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently as you walked.

“I’m fine,” you smiled.

“Y/N, don’t lie to me, you’re as pale as a ghost! You’re getting sick aren’t you?”

“Keep your voice down!” you berated him, glancing to the front of your group to see if anyone had heard him.

You knew it was true, you had begun to feel progressively worse over the last two days. Your whole body ached, you had a persistent headache that had started to pound behind your eyes and you were sure you had the startings of a fever. Truth be told, all you wanted was to curl up in a ball and sleep for a week, but you knew that wasn't going to be happening any time soon.

“We don’t know if it is the sickness, it might pass in a day or two.” You weren’t sure who you were trying to convince, Osferth or yourself as you twirled your wedding band around your finger.

Releasing a long sigh, your gaze lifted to your husband at the front of the group, watching as he carried Aethelstan atop his shoulders. Your heart squeezed in your chest, overflowing with the love you felt for him. He had been excellent with the children during the journey. You hoped that one day you would be blessed with your own children, he would make an excellent father.

Osferth noted the action, guessing where your thoughts had led you. “He deserves to know. If you are unwell - if it is the sickness - he would want to know. He would be heartbroken to think you could not tell him. Do not ask me to keep this from him.” he begged.

“I know, but I can’t tell him, and you cannot either. He would freak out, he needs to focus on Uhtred, the children and getting us all to safety; he cannot do that if he is fussing over me.”

“Finan always worries for you regardless, it is his nature to worry over those he cares for. You know, when we are away, you are all he talks about, all he can think about is you: what you would be doing that day, whether you were well, or thinking about the day he can return home to you.” he lectured.

It made you smile to know that even when you were parted his thoughts still turned to you, the same way yours turned to him.

“Even so, I beg you not to tell him, if this does pass in a few days then there will be nothing to worry about.”

“And if it does not?”

“Then I will cross that bridge when I get to it.” You ended the discussion, seeing a small village come into view up ahead, hopefully where you could get some rest for a while.

With everyone on edge already, Finan's sour mood and near constant anxiety about the sickness had started to grate on everyone's nerves, though everyone knew he didn't mean it - he was just terrified, having seen its effects before.

Having reassured him multiple times over the course of your journey, you had discovered what really had him in such a state of panic: The one thing Finan wanted to do was to protect his family. To protect you, and make you happy.

But this? This he had no control over. That is what terrified him. That he could not protect you from this.

That was your main reason for not telling him of your illness. To know that you, his own wife, had the dreaded sickness. It would break him. You would not do that to him.

— Time Skip —

You had all safely settled into the village of Wulfrunetun, having managed to gain a few hours of rest while you planned out your next move. Aelfwynn’s condition had deteriorated in the last few hours, the poor girl barely able to keep her head up from exhaustion. You all hoped that with some rest she might start to feel better.

You had managed to get some rest in the shade outside, where it was cooler, trying to reduce your progressing fever. You felt rotten, your skin felt slightly clammy to the touch, and you were certain you could feel a bubbling in your chest whenever you breathed too deeply, but couldn’t decide whether that was just your overactive imagination and fear of the sickness playing with your mind. Surely the sickness wouldn’t progress this quickly? It had only been a couple of days since you had started to feel unwell.

“Ah, there ya are. I’ve been lookin’ for ya.” Your thoughts were interrupted when your boisterous husband came bounding through the door, heading over to you once he had caught sight of you, a grin forming on his face.

You forced a smile onto your face, standing up from where you had been resting under a tree. Finan’s arms immediately encircled your waist as soon as you were within arms reach, and you couldn’t help but fall into his embrace, leaning your head against his chest, letting his steady heartbeat soothe your anxiety.

Finan rested his head on top of yours, and the pair of you took a moment to simply enjoy each other's presence.

“You feel warm, are ya feelin’ alrigh'?” he asked, pulling back just enough to look at your face, his eyebrows drawn in concern.

“I'm fine”

“Are ya sure? You've been spendin’ a lot of time with Aelfwynn, I don't want ya to get sick.” He reached a hand to cradle your face.

You let your cheek rest against his palm for a moment, before pulling away and teasingly swatting his hand away from his fussing.

“I promise I'm fine, my love. I have just spent too long in the sun, is all. I would tell you if anything was wrong.”

Liar. The words tasted bitter in your mouth.

“Has Lord Uhtred formed a plan yet?” You asked, hoping to distract him.

“Aye, he has. Uhtred has decided we must travel back to Aegelesburg; Sihtric and Young Uhtred are going to search for Aethelflaed and Aldhelm and bring them to meet us there. We will be leaving soon.”

“What of Aelfwynn? She is not strong enough to travel any further.” ‘Neither am I’ you silently added.

Finan grumbled to himself for a moment, heaving a sigh through his nose. “Osferth and Eadith are goin’ ta stay ‘ere to look after her until things calm down in Aegelesburg, it wouldn’t be safe for her there, even if she wasn’t sick.” He pulled you in closer.

“Then I will stay here with her.”

“Absolutely not! You’re coming with me to Aegelesburg and as far away from this sickness as possible.”

You shook your head, pulling his arms from your waist so that you could hold his larger hands between yours.

“Finan, listen to me. I am still tired from travelling, and I would be glad for some rest. I would be of more use tending to Aelfwynn than I would be to anyone in Aegelesburg. Besides, the situation is still volatile, what happens if it turns into a siege? I would be safer staying here, and coming to you once it is safe.”

“Y/N, do not make me part from ya, please.” He begged, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

It took everything in you to not break down into tears, but you knew it was better for him to be away from you, at least until you got better.

“I know, I don’t want to part from you either, but you must go, and I will follow as soon as it is safe enough to do so. It won’t be for long.” You murmured.

“Alrigh’” He reluctantly agreed, pulling away and pulling you into a bear hug, his arms completely enveloping you. You felt him press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I love ya.”

Your heart felt fit to burst, and you blinked away the tears that welled up in your eyes.

“I love you too. Now go and get ready. The sooner you leave and sort this mess out, the sooner we can be together again.” You pushed his shoulder jokingly. He chuckled, letting his arms slip from around you as he headed back inside.

As soon as he was out of sight you slouched, coughing into your elbow to muffle the sound. You could feel the burn of it pulling at your chest, you could taste faint traces of copper in your mouth. It was definitely better that he leaves now.

— Time Skip —

The men were tying their saddlebags to the saddle of their horses, preparing to leave any minute. You watched as Sihtric helped Young Uhtred with his saddle, making sure everything was properly secure. He must have surely been missing his own children, his own wife. A pang of sorrow went through your heart at the thought. At least you got to travel with your husband, to say goodbye to him.

You wrung your hands as you continued to stand on the outskirts of the action, there had been something plaguing your mind over the last few hours, something other than the sickness you could feel creeping deeper into your bones and your secrets from your husband.

“Sihtric,” you called to him, your eyes darting to Finan briefly to make sure he was out of earshot.

Sihtric quickly finished helping Young Uhtred, clapping him on the back as he moved away to talk to you.

“I just wished to say goodbye...” you exhale nervously. You had to ask him - why was it so difficult to ask him?

His mismatched eyes studied you silently for a moment.

“Goodbye” he answered, half a laugh falling from his lips, unsure of where this was going.

Your gaze moved over Sihtrics left shoulder, falling onto Finan as he moved back and forth, finishing his preparations. It was for him you had to ask this.

Sihtric followed your gaze, looking over his shoulder, before looking back at you, questions now very present in his eyes.

“...I know you are not going with him now, but… look after him for me. Lord uhtred will give him something to follow, a purpose perhaps - but he will need you to lean on.” Tears rose in your eyes at the thought, making sure Finan had people to carry him forward if the worst should happen.

“Y/N, what is this about?”

“Just promise me!”

“Of course! I swear it, you don't need to ask.” He looked visibly shaken by your panic, stepping closer to make sure you were ok.

“I know. Thank you.” You breathed a sigh of relief. You needed to pull yourself together, you weren’t gone yet.

“Y/N, please, what is wrong? How can I help?”

“Nothing just - in case things go badly. There is so much that could go wrong.” you answered evasively.

You weren't sure if he quite believed you, there was still the lingering question behind his eyes.

You knew he could tell something was still wrong, he always saw more than was shown, heard more than was said. You supposed that's why he made such a good spy. Thankfully he did not press the matter, instead bringing you in for a hug.

“Everything will be fine, you'll see. Lord Uhtred has not failed us yet.” He looked so sure as he pulled away, for a moment you allowed yourself to hope. Perhaps things would be ok after all. You would fight this sickness with everything you had. For Finan and the rest of your family.

“I know, but you can forgive a wife for worrying.” You joked.

“Speaking of, might I borrow my wife so that I may give her a proper goodbye?” Finan interrupted, a sly grin on his lips. The same flirtatious grin that you had fallen for so many years ago plastered across his handsome features. Sihtric laughed easily, backing away to give you both some privacy.

You fell so easily into your husband's waiting arms, reaching your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer.

You saw Sihtric climb up onto his horse, not moving from your place in Finan’s hold, you call out to him once more.

“Sihtric! Be careful. Look after yourself.”

He nodded at you, looking between you and Finan.

“You as well, both of you.” With that, he urged his horse forward, joining Young Uhtred on the road to find Aethelflaed.

“Well I knew I might have to ward off some men vying for your attention, but I did no’ think I would have to count Sihtric among ‘em” Finan tickled you, just under your ribs, causing you to let out an undignified squeak.

You give him an unimpressed look, before smacking lightly on the arm. You cleared your throat, hoping to make it sound like you were just composing yourself, rather than staving off the coughing fit you could feel burning your lungs, no doubt induced by your scream.

“Oh please, you know I only have eyes for one man.”

“Oh aye? And who might that lucky man be then hmm?”

“Osferth of course! Why else would I be staying behind with him?”

You couldn't help the chuckle that crept past your lips at his shocked expression as he pressed his hand to his chest in mock hurt.

“You wound me! Are ya sure there isn't anything I can do that could convince ya to bestow your affections onto myself?”

“I suppose I could be persuaded.” you raise your eyebrows in suggestion.

“I am nothing if not persuasive.” he lowered his head closer to your own, his lips a hair's breadth away from your own as his tone deepened. The very voice he knew you loved, that could make your toes curl and your pulse race.

Despite the fact you could feel yourself getting hot under the collar, a feeling you were quite sure had nothing to do with your illness at present, you retained steady eye contact, not letting him know how much he had affected you.

“Well, I shall look forward to your attempts to win my favour upon our reunion, husband.”

His eyes lit up a fraction, enjoying the reminder of his title to you. As you watched him, your overdramatic, funny, fierce, loyal and ever-loving husband, you felt yourself fall for him all over again.

“I shall relish the challenge, wife. I will send word soon.” He closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his own. He cupped your chin with his finger as his thumb brushed over the swell of your cheek, reluctant to part with you.

You deepened the kiss, attempting to pour all of your feelings into it, trying to convey all the love you felt for him and all of the things you could not say.

Eventually, the voice of your lord interrupted your final moments with Finan.

“Finan! Put your wife down and let us be on our way.”

You finally parted from each other, opening your eyes to look at your husband once more. You tried to banish the tears that rimmed your eyes and you prayed this would not be the last time you saw him.

“Be careful,” you whispered into the space between you.

He pressed a final kiss to your forehead, murmuring into your hairline “You too, I love ya.”

“I love you too” you told him as he began to move away, letting your arms slip away from his frame.

He mounted his horse, and Uhtred lifted Aethelstan so that he sat in front of Finan in the saddle before checking on Stiorra and making his way to his own horse.

You watched until the four of them were out of sight, and you felt Osferth’s presence at your shoulder.

“You should have told him.” he chided quietly.

“Perhaps,” you conceded, wrapping your arms around yourself at the sudden chill you felt in your arms.

“I am going to rest awhile, wake me if there is any change in Aelfwynn.”

He watched you go back inside, a feeling of trepidation sinking in his stomach.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed it! Part 2 will hopefully be finished soon!

Tags: @axe-does-writing @solinarimoon @morosemagick @emilyhufflepufftlk @lauwrite1225 @madrielite

#the last kingdom #tlk #finan #finan the agile #finan x reader #Do Not Go Where I Cannot Follow

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vinetwine · 10 days

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let us talk about a consistent and concerning issue regarding readers on the platform.

i will preface that this obviously does not apply to every single person in the community for both readers and audiences. it is purely just a post i have decided to make upon speaking to three of my friends. this is an issue that has been on the platform for what seems to be years and it will not stop anytime soon for as long as the culture remains like this. if this feels like a personal attack then ... i have no clue what to tell you ...

of course it is inevitable that most readers will end up leaving anyway in order to pursue something different. running a blog for the rest of one's life is hardly ever thought about. however a lot of people do end up leaving because they are unhappy - not because they decide it is time to move on. and that is the issue i am discussing today.

not enough people are talking about how many blogs - especially top blogs - end up taking an extended hiatus at least once. or abandon their blogs entirely leaving them as shells of what they once were. or deactivate entirely often without a word as hardly anyone will notice.

it is often underestimated how much pressure running such a hobby is in reality. it can be extremely draining and the more people that follow you the higher the demand.

those who claim readers do things for followers highly underestimate the practice [for the most part. some readers obviously do things for the attention]. more followers is arguably worse as more eyes are on you waiting for more content or to watch you fall.

readers have personal lives. and tarot is - as mentioned - just a hobby. readers hardly or never monetize their work. and those who monetize do not earn a substantial income to live without working another much higher paying job. for the most part the content is entirely free. it is a choice to produce this content. until it feels like an obligation.

emotions of the readers are dismissed. very few people end up caring for them as people - many only care for the brand and content. they are criticized if they put out too much content. criticized if they put out too little content. criticized if they take too long to make content. criticized if they say something someone disagrees with because they expected a different result. boundaries are constantly broken. rules are hardly ever read. when requesting manners and etiquette are a thing of the past.

recently one of my friends left the platform. they had 1300+ followers. they told me they would announce what became their last hiatus and a reason why. and out of those 1300+ people perhaps only two or three people wished them well.

of course this negativity is not from everyone. from my experience a lot of people are lovely. however being close friends with three popular readers and with some of my own personal experiences - a lot of people can also be downright awful.

and for what reason ?

what do those people gain out of tormenting someone for having a hobby ? for making content they willingly started producing in their free time because they wanted to share it with likeminded people ?

is it really that fun to willingly choose to go anonymous knowing it can not be traced back to them ?

is it really that fun to make someone hate a passion they once loved ?

is it really that fun to make someone unhappy ?

i ponder.

- belle. on behalf of multiple readers.

#🍷#belle.

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acourtofthought · 3 days

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@starsreminisce posted these comments on their blog:

And the last paragraph really stood out to me.

Something I've seen said by a certain side of the fandom is that a bonus chapter should not change the trajectory of what is in the actual book. I disagree with that because I look at the bonus chapters as a sneak peek of what's to come in future books (with this particular bonus following the pattern talked about in a post yesterday, with the resolution to the small story pointing us in the direction of Gwynriel), things that Sarah will at a later point expound on within the actual series even if they weren't initially clear to us without having read the bonus.

But say that's the truth, say the bonus chapters are only in line with that which we already know (which still works for Gwynriel because though the bonus hinted at Gwyn having a curiosity towards Az and him possibly having a bond with her, we do see bits of that in the actual book as well, there are scenes with her staring in his direction and scenes where he's staring in hers, where he shows admiration for her, where she's teasing him, where Nesta calls Az her new ribbon).

One of the big arguments is that it's extremely clear that Elain has no interest in Lucien, that it's been the case for multiple books. It's said Elain does not owe Lucien an explanation, that she does not owe him her time or attention.

So why not write an Elain bonus chapter in SF where she and Lucien have a conversation discussing how they don't want to explore their bond? According to E/riels there's no need for it in the first place since she's made herself clear but they have also claimed that she won't break the bond until we have her POV. Then wouldn't a bonus in Elain's POV before her book be the perfect place for something that's so obvious so that when she starts her own book "with Az", there's nothing standing in their way and the focus can be on their romance and the plot and not the emotional toll that her severing her bond with Lucien would take? If the Elucien bond is as much of a non issue as some claim it be be, then why not deal with it in an Elain Bonus Chapter? When her book starts, Sarah could even recap the events of the bonus for those who had missed it.

Elain thought back to that conversation she and Lucien shared shortly after Solstice. Where after Azriel's rejection, which had cut her deeply, she realized there was no place in her heart for anyone but Az even if she wasn't sure he still wanted her.

That would have actually be a perfect way for SJM to move us past the Elucien bond with very little in the way of feeling devastated on Lucien's behalf, where his heart is not being broken in real time within her romantic arc.

But the author didn't do that. She gave Az and FEYRE a POV. Feyre who already had 3 books and a novella and Elain with a total of 0.

We know Az doesn't think Lucien is good enough for Elain but we don't know if Elain agrees with that.

We know Az questioned the Cauldron because of his brothers and her sisters, that he hadn't thought of being with Elain beyond his sexual fantasies but we don't know where Elain stands on the whole "just wants one taste / why wasn't Az made my mate" debate.

We know Az thought of Elain as too trusting and hopeful but we've no clue whether Elain was really thinking anything of the sort.

We've got Feyre thinking back on how she made sure to keep her mouth shut on Elain not wearing Lucien's gloves, how had she put them on she would have never been pierced in the first place but we still don't know whether Elain's actions with the gloves actually line up with her thoughts.

If Sarah wanted to continue on with what is apparently so evident in the four books of buildup for E/riel there was nothing preventing her from finally giving us Elain's POV in SF and having her tell Lucien that there's no reason for him to hold out hope any longer.

The more likely explanation for why Elain wasn't given a bonus is because everything that E/riels and Az claim that is so very obvious regarding Elain's character might actually not be as obvious as they think.

If she's so happy in the NC, then why hide her thoughts?

If she's so in love with Az, that it's clear as day, then why hide her thoughts?

If she's so disinterested in Lucien, then why hide her thoughts?

If we're supposed to believe that Elain's choice is Az, that there is no competition and that it should not be a mystery to anyone at this point, then why has she been so reticent to put us into Elain's head?

#elain archeron #pro elucien #elucien #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra

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vincord · 3 months

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Borderline Kotoko and why.

(I'm not a psychiatrist, a specialist, or anyone else. Everything that follows is just my own vision of the character as a person with bpd. I like to headcanoning to my favorite characters what I have, especially if I see similarities with their feelings/behavior/relationships. I don't headcanon to the characters and my kins what I don't have myself and what I don't know much about. It's just a hedcanon and you may disagree with it, if you want.)

Since her second MV has been released, I can finally put all my thoughts together and write this post. (thanks to my mutual who told me to post this here. Without her little support, I wouldn't have done it)

I would like to start by saying that it is obvious that Kotoko divides the world into black and white, good and evil, allies and enemies. This is one of the main themes that can be traced throughout Kotoko's narrative. There is no middle ground for her, It's either this or that. This hinders Kotoko in her relationships with others, it hinders her in her relationship with herself and the perception of everything that is happening around her.

A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by extremes between idealization and devaluation.

During all this time, it has been shown how Kotoko is able to idealize people or just treat them well, but then push them away from her if they do or say something that undermines her trust in them. She takes a defensive position, because an opinion different from hers is equated with a threat and danger.

"Lucky"

Kotoko treats the rescued girl quite well only as long as she doesn't read the news.

_ Kazui

The 1st trial. Question 6.

"Who's the prisoner you have the most interest in?" Kotoko: It's hard to say. As of now, if it's about whose character I can't quite grasp, it'd be Kazui with his strong sense of intellectual curiosity.

The 2nd trial. Timeline (2022/08/05)

Kotoko: ……Mukuhara Kazui. Thanks to you, I wasn’t able to properly serve justice to those who did something unforgivable. I’m currently acting as an agent for our prison guard Es. Don’t get in my way next time. Kazui: Oi oi, don’t be silly, Yuzuriha-chan. There’s no way I could just look away from your outrageous display of violence. Anyway, even disregarding the fact violence against those voted guilty isn’t a part of Milgram’s system, what you’re doing is just acting recklessly based on a broad interpretation. As long as I’m free myself, I’ll stop you. Kotoko: ……what a pointless argument. Hmph. Since Es forgives you, I have no choice but to forgive you myself too. If you to keep to your words, then you’d best do what you can to keep being forgiven. If you’re not, then next time you’ll be one of my targets.

She is interested in him and communicating with him. They really have common topics to talk about and maybe they could even get along. But he does something that she doesn't like and is directed against her and her ideals. Kazui stands up for those whom Kotoko planned to punish, thereby turning her against himself, despite the small number of common themes that seemed to make her a little more loyal to him. This act alone is enough for her to instantly begin to see him as an enemy, not an ally. _

Kotoko's idealization and disillusionment with people are best manifested in her relationship with Es. In the beginning, she offers them cooperation, seeing that Milgram is somewhat similar to what she adheres to, only to push them away when her opinion was not agreed.

The 1st trial. Voice drama.

Kotoko: Some scenes.. you can only see it in a cell. Because you and I are the same, always observing the other prisoners.

Es: Kotoko. A person like you.. What have you planned? Kotoko: Heh. Me, I want to be like you. There's no way I can tolerate sin.

Kotoko: To be honest, I don't know your true intentions. And I don't know whether you are a similar person with similar thoughts. Who knows, maybe it's just my delusion of wishful thinking.

The 2nd trial. Voice drama.

Es: Listen to me. You're wrong. Kotoko: What? We've decided to work together, so i've become your fangs.

Es: That's enough. We have different views on it. I'm not continuing to work with you.

Beginning. They make it clear to her that they disagree with her and consider her wrong.

Es: Kotoko. I will not do what you say. I will determine the way i see both sin and punishment as i want it. It may seem wrong from your point of view. And that's understandable. I'm pretty aware of it.

Kotoko: How ridiculous... It's always like this... All of you weaklings always act like this... All of you enjoy seeing someone getting hurt...

Kotoko: You keep asking for it, but as soon as it happens near you by your own choice, you all start complaining and evading your responsibility... You're always like this... Always such idiots!

Kotoko: You have no power, and yet you make no effort to gain it! You're talking about justice, but it just doesn't make sence! You're invested in people's disasters, yet you take a position of "i have nothing to do with it"! You can't even face your true selves!

Ending. After they disagree with Kotoko, she instantly forgets everything she said before. Now they are no longer similar people with similar interests. Now Es is the exact opposite of that. _

It is also worth recalling that since her birthday in 2022 to birthday in 2023, Kotoko has never contacted any of the other prisoners. She isolated herself from her surroundings for quite a long time, only to then offend them all. She didn't trust any of them before, but now, when she sees that no one agrees with her, she has done everything to build a barrier between them and herself.

Most people with BPD react sharply to rejection, disagreement with them, actions directed against them, and so on, which they can interpret as betrayal and something that threatens their own safety. Sometimes it doesn't matter what a person has done or said. The reaction to this can be strong and vivid. ___

Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.

Here I focus only on paranoia and stress. Kotoko doesn't trust anyone, she's always tense and wary. Even in simple conversations with prisoners, she may feel threatened and something directed against herself. Actually, there is already a post that would fit this point and which is a little more detailed. It says more about PTSD, but still.

The 1st trial. Timeline (2020/05/30)

Mahiru: Hey, Kotoko-chan. There’s something that’s really been bugging me, so do you mind if I ask? ……how do you style yourself so well? Have you always dressed like that? But it also looks like something you’d wear for training. Do you play sport? Ah, or maybe some kind of martial arts? Kotoko: ……you really are carefree. Everyone in here is a “murderer” right? Is this really the time to be asking questions like that? Mahiru: Hmm, I guess so. That’s what they said. But nobody here seems particularly scary or anything, right? If I had to pick someone, then maybe you’re the scariest! Ah, wait, do you do like yoga or something? Kotoko: ……I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or are just an airhead.

The 1st trial. Timeline (2020/07/09)

Kotoko: Kazui, you do martial arts right. ……what type? Judo? Kazui: Ah, my main is…… judo, and kendo. I also know a little bit of karate. You must have some martial arts experience too, right, Yuzuriha-chan? I can tell by looking. Hmm… probably a combat type…… I’m guessing not karate…… is it Taekwondo? Kotoko: ……I’m not telling you. Stop ogling me like that. It’s gross. Kazui: I-isn’t that a bit unfair?

+ Literally this moment.

___

Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights) +

Emotional instability in reaction to day-to-day events

In both of her MVs, from time to time there is a sudden transition to wolves, the red moon and Kotoko's inner world, during which she gives free rein to her emotions. It's like emotional outbursts and outbursts of aggression, the appearance of which you cannot predict, which is why they cause damage both to the one who has them, and, perhaps, to those who are around.

Not that I can say anything about symbolism, I don't think i understand it. But since this is my post and my headcanon, I can interpret what is happening the way I want.

For all its secrecy and unsociability, most of Kotoko's outfits are quite open, compared to the outfit with the red jacket. When she's in this outfit, she's either in her inner world, or with an emotional outburst, or hurting someone. Wearing a hood is an attempt to protect yourself from the outside world and the people around you, to keep all your emotions to yourself, which are already suppressed. Kotoko, with her hood up, is cold and aloof from everyone. She builds a kind of wall between herself and the others. When she removes the hood from her head, she breaks down these walls, allowing a bunch of different emotions to break out and mix.

I would also like to mention how she sounds in her second voice drama and second song. She goes from emotion to emotion and pretty quickly. The way she quickly goes from laughter to intense anger, from intense anger to utter despair and is on the verge of tears, only to then return to anger again, and then suddenly quiet down. ___

Identity disturbance with markedly or persistently unstable self-image or sense of self +

Chronic feelings of emptiness

The 1st trial. Question 1

"Just who are you?" Kotoko: Yuzuriha Kotoko. Someone who plans to fight for your sake. Well, that depends on you too, though.

Kotoko doesn't perceive herself as a person, but rather as a tool to achieve a particular goal. Someone who will do the dirty work that others won't do. She has a first name, last name, age, and that's all. Her whole definition goes through her own ideals, which she desperately clings to and clings to. Kotoko's views are radical and in most cases don't imply compromises. She's either a hero or nobody, so she always needs a reason to follow her ideals and do everything according to them.

Otherwise, there will be nothing left of her. ___

What can I say at the end? Well, this is my headcannon and that's it. I could have forgotten something, made a mistake somewhere, or not completed it. It's hard for me to keep track of it.

Kotoko is one of my favorite characters and some of the things related to her evoke a strong response in me, even if these things show the negative side of the personality and cause a pang of guilt/dislike. It's like you're being shown those disadvantages of yours that you're trying to ignore.

I like to think that she crushes a lot of emotions inside herself, trying not to let them escape. I like to think that sometimes she's afraid of herself, and sometimes she's not. Her cooperation with someone is both a feeling of being needed, and avoiding loneliness, and a moment of socialization. But she can't stand it, because any little thing or the wrong word triggers a survival mode in her head, which is why she builds high walls between herself and the environment again.

I have a lot of thoughts about her. I just wanted to pour at least a small part of these thoughts out of my head into a relatively structured post and that's all. Thanks for reading it. I've been carrying it all in my head for quite a long time and I don't want to wait for the release of her answers to the questions, you know...

#milgram #kotoko yuzuriha #vncrd's text

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