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cherryblossomwriting · 2 months

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Exploring Depths

Summary: Harry is a gynaecologist and gives you a vaginal examination

W.C: 1427

Warnings: Smut, Cheating, Fingering, Inappropriate relationship with a gynaecologist (this is not how a vaginal exam works in real life guys so please beware)

Tags: Gynaecologist!Harry x Patient!Y/n

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“Fuck, you're so tight. I’m gonna cum so hard, baby,” your boyfriend moaned while positioning his cock in you. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, making it seem like he was in heaven, sadly you weren't feeling the same, not even close. Jack and you have been highschool sweethearts. He was a great boyfriend and you loved him, however, there was a small problem… he could never make you cum. So you tried to dodge every time he tried to initiate sex, it just seemed boring. You were a virgin when you got together with him, however, Jack has had multiple girlfriends before, so you never understood why he couldn't make you orgasm. You have tried to hint multiple times, but he just didn't seem to care. “Did you come, baby,” he asked you. “Yeah, so hard,” you replied with fake sweetness. You were tired of faking it, at this point.

Later that day, you decided to confront him. You know communication is the key to a successful relationship. “Hey, babe. I wanted to talk to you about something,” you said in a soft voice. You don't know why you were nervous. “Yeah, what was it?” he replied back, he couldn't even care to switch off his phone to give you his full attention. “Ummm, earlier today, when we were having sex. Ummm, I faked it. I didn't actually cum. I think we should work on it,” you were trying to not make him feel bad. “There is nothing to work on. My previous girlfriends never seem to have that problem. There is an issue with you. I think you should go to the gynac and have yourself checked down there,” he said without any care for you.

You couldn't believe it, youll have been dating for almost 6 years now and he couldn't even care to address the problem you were facing. His answer made you really doubt yourself. “Is the problem in me?” you were thinking to yourself. You quickly booked an appointment with the local gynac so that you could have the issue identified and solved ASAP.

You had the vaginal exam appointment today and to say you were nervous was an understatement. You quickly got dressed and drove down to the clinic. “Miss Y/N, you're down in room 21, Dr. Styles will be with you in a moment,” the receptionist spoke with a heavy voice, making you even more nervous. You have never visited a gynac until now so this was all very new to you. You opened the door to the room and sat on the small stool, waiting for the doctor to enter. “It shouldn't be that bad. I mean they are professionals of course. It's like showing another woman your vagina, I mean it's nothing she has never seen right?” you kept reassuring yourself. Little did you know that Dr Styles was not a woman but rather a man sculpted from the bare hands of the Greek gods. When you saw him enter the room, it seemed like all the air in the room had been sucked by a vacuum cleaner. It's like you forgot how to breathe. “Why is he a doctor, he should be a model or rather should be put in a museum where people would have to pay to even get a glance of his godly face. His beauty is worth being preserved,” you were thinking to yourself. “Are you the doctor, I thought it would be a female?” you asked him. “No need to feel uncomfortable Love, I am a professional,” he said in a thick British accent. When you thought this man couldn't get any more attractive, he smirked and you could see his beautiful dimples popping. “You can remove your clothes, including your undergarments and wear the paper drape,” he said while putting on the gloves. Fuck his hands were so veiny and big. You were shocked as to why he wasn't leaving the room, but you thought that's how it's supposed to be so you removed your clothes and wore the drape given to you. You were completely naked inside. “Okay now get on the table and put your legs up on the stirrup,” he said while getting the equipment ready and pulling a stool to sit between your spreaded legs. “Umm, before you start i just wanted you to know that this is my first time at the gynac,” you squealed with a nervous voice. “Don't worry darling, I know what I am doing,” he replied back in his masculine voice.

He pulls your gown above your hips and lubricates his hands with the gel. He slowly spread your lips open with his fingers. You shuddered due to the sudden cold feeling in your private area. You noticed a slight smirk appear on his lips. He removed his hands from your vagina. “Now love, tell me why you are here. Are you facing any problems or is this just a regular check up?” he asked. “Umm, whenever my boyfriend and I have sex, Iamnotabletocum,” you said in one breath. “What darling I didn't catch the last part,” he replied back with a smug face. “I am not able to cum,” you said with reddened cheeks. “Ahhh now I understand what the problem is,” he said. “You don't have to worry, let me check if there is an issue,” he continued.

He touched your lips with his gloved fingers again. “Hmmm someone seems excited,” he said nonchalantly. He could see your pussy glisten in the bright light. You couldn't explain how shy you were, there was something about him that made you so turned on. Not even your boyfriend has ever made you so horny. He inserted a finger in your tight hole and kept pistoning it. You coughed out due to the sudden intrusion. “It's all part of the procedure, calm down,” doctor styles interrupted. He inserted another finger in you and then another, till he had three fingers in you. “Hmmm… you have a very tight vagina Y/N,” he said. The way your name just rolled off his tongue made you even more wet. “Okay, I have done most of the tests, now for the final test, I have to conduct an orgasm test,” he said. “An orgasm test, what is that Doctor,” you asked with genuine curiosity because you have never heard of such a test. Your innocence and the way you called him doctor made Harry hard. You could see a huge bulgy tent forming in his pants. “Was he getting turned on by this?” you asked yourself. “It is a test that will confirm whether you are able to orgasm or if there is a problem that we need to work on,” he explained. He again inserted three fingers in your hole, slowly pushing them in and out of your vagina. He then pressed his thumb right on your clit. The combination of the movement of his fingers in and out of your vagina and the circle motion of his thumb on your clit was driving you crazy. He continued the movements. A smirk plastered on his face. “Fuck, doctor, I think Im gonna cum, shit,” you moaned out with pleasure. “There we go,” he said while pumping his fingers in you. You orgasmed so hard, you think you might have gone to heaven and back. All the built up frustration just leaving your body.

You opened your eyes to see Doctor Styles covered in your juice. “Did I just..?” before you could complete your sentence, he interrupted. “Yes, you squirted Y/N. Now you know, the problem isn't you but rather your inexperienced boyfriend who probably doesn't even know where the clit is.” he answered with a devilish look in his eyes. “Thank you so much Doctor Styles,” you said. “Oh no worries love, I love taking care of my patients,” he said with a wink. You still can't believe you squirted, you have only seen that happen in porn and honestly you thought the feeling of squirting was overhyped until you experienced it yourself. You quickly changed into your clothes. “So Y/N I will see you after a month for your next monthly checkup? Gotta make sure all my patients are healthy and satisfied” he asked with mischief in his eyes. “Of course Doctor, Thank you” you replied and left the room. Only if you knew, you would have visited a gynac much earlier. You knew this wasn't the end to the pleasure you would experience with Doctor Styles.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Hope you'll liked this piece!!!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments!

Also, I am open to requests, so let me know if you want me to write about something in particular:))

Lots of Love

xoxo

#harry styles #smut #writing #female reader #harry styles fandom #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #gynaecologist!Harry Styles #spicy content

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stabortega · 6 months

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NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Having to deal with the aftermath of that situation was definitely worse then finding out the truth.

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!G!P!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Mentions of sex, dirty talking and sexting. Knife play. Mentions of kinks, nothing explicit. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.

Author's Note: Still think my writing is trash but you guys seem to like it. 💜

MASTERLIST.

"What the actual fuck?!" Jasmine almost yelled as Jenna shoved her inside one of the dressing rooms in the set, while she tried to shut the other actress up. "Thank god someone's paying that poor girl's college."

"This is not fucking funny, Jasmine. I shouldn't have told you." Jenna locked the door behind her, looking at her apprehensively. She made a terrible mistake by telling Jasmine what went on last night. "And now they expect me to work with her? After I-"

"Seen her dick? Oh god, what will be of you?" The black girl laughed, while sitting down on the couch. "Chill, alright? She probably doesn't even know you donated. I mean, what was your username?"

Jenna gulped. "I don't wanna say it."

"Come on, was it that obvious??" Jasmine rolled her eyes, waiting for an answer.

"It was my first name then the first four digits of my birthday."

"I cannot fucking believe you."

Living in New York wasn't easy. Every apartment was obnoxiously expensive, so you had to resort to leave the city and start living in Brooklyn. It was a nice neighborhood, the best you could afford if we're being completely honest. Moving to the big city was by far the best and the worst decision you've ever made. Other than starting college, obviously.

I mean, you loved every second of it, but it started to fuck your financial life right up the ass.

"You should create an Only Fans or something." You almost spit the whiskey shot you were drinking right back to your cup, looking at your friend as if she just told you that she had killed three men with a needle. "I'm serious, (Y/N). Do you know how much money you can get just by posting out some feet pics, or whatever?"

"I'm not gonna sell pictures of my feet for cash, Liana." She shook her head no while taking a sip of her Appletini.

"Then don't. Sell your dick pics, or livestream. Come on, I know how much you're struggling and you know you're putting that body to waste. What's the worse thing can happen?"

And she was right. You started out with just an account on that website, posting some pictures here and there; until one of your followers suggested livestreaming and said she would pay some good money just to watch you cum on your stomach (which obviously, she did). It happened so fast that, when you realized it, you were able to get yourself a better place right downtown, pay off your college debts and buy a professional video camera to shoot some amateur movies. And no, not the pornographic kind.

You wanted to be a director someday, but you were also really good with a camera; which is why you got the opportunity to work in the upcoming Scream movie as an assistant videographer (and because Liana put in a good word for you). It was your first real gig in your area of interest, you couldn't be more excited.

The first day was just like any other. You got to meet a few people and get a hold of the equipments you were going to use.

"Ay, (Y/N)! Come here for a sec!" Your boss, Dave, called your name while you were looking at one of the IMAX cameras, which you've never got the opportunity to film with. You realized he wanted to introduce you to some people, which he did. You just didn't expect it would be one of the protagonists (and the newest it actress of Hollywood). "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jenna."

You extended your hand for her to shake, which she did after looking at it for a couple of seconds, almost if she was analyzing you. "Nice to meet you too, (Y/N)."

And that was pretty much it, you guys didn't exchanged any other words besides that on that particular day. You even thought that she could be avoiding you, for whatever reason. All throughout the day, you felt her gaze on you multiple times, but everytime you looked at her, she just looked away.

"You're definitely not subtle." Jasmine whispered in Jenna's ear, while she watched you handle one of the camera films. "I'm pretty sure that she can physically feel your eyes on her butt as we speak."

"She's definitely gonna find out that I was on her stream last night." The Ortega took a deep breath, looking away when she realized you looked at her again.

"She's not, don't get paranoid. You have the most obvious and boring username ever? Yes. It would take just one Google search to figure out your identity? It would. But still!" Jenna got up from the chair she was sitting, realizing that all she wanted to do was to smoke this off.

"You're not helping, Jasmine." She took out her pack of Marlboro's and her lighter once she was outside. "I never even watched porn before, not even by myself."

"And now you donated $1500 to a complete stranger just so she could cum while moaning your name. That's a character development." Jasmine stood beside Jenna, who had just started smoking so she could even try to forget that she wanted to sit on her coworker's dick less than 24 hours ago.

"I'm never doing that again, Jasmine. It's inhumane and gross. It was the first and the last time."

jenna2709: thought about you a lot today.

"Oh, did you? Good to hear that." She locked the door behind her and sat on her bed. That was Jenna's, at least, 10th day of watching your streams nonstop. And she had just "caught" you in the beginning of your livestream (which meant that she had the notifications of your page on and was too much of a chicken to admit it). So that meant that you weren't even undressed yet, you were just rubbing your dick over your sweatpants and chatting a litte bit with your followers before you started your actual show. "What exactly were you thinking of, huh?"

jenna2709: of me sucking your cock under this table while you tell me how much of a good girl i am.

Jenna realized what she said after she already sent the message. Where did that came from? She thought while looking intensely at the livestream, hoping you would just stop with the teasing and take your cock out of your pants for her to see (and drool). "Oh baby, I'm sure you're very good with your mouth. Wanted to cum right on your throat and make you swallow every drop."

jenna2709: i would be honored to be your cum dump.

"Okay, I crossed the line." She took a deep breath, not even recognizing who was that person inside of her, the person that would say the most obscene and erotic shit that she ever heard. It was almost if something awakened inside of her everytime she saw you. Every couple of days, at exactly 10PM, she would lock herself in her hotel bedroom and fuck her pussy so deep until she passed out from having like, five orgasms. And that was the easy part, obviously. The hardest part was definitely waking up in the morning and having to look at you as if she didn't saw your dick inside of a fleshlight the night before.

Jenna grew up christian. In a american dream type of household. But getting in touch with Hollywood and all of the film industry made her get out of her bubble and quite literally, discover the world. She drank, she smoked, she went to 2AM parties at some A-List celebrity's house that she never even met before. But sex? Never sex. She met a few people here and there, but nothing further. It made her think about that, the fact that she couldn't even be interested enough in someone to actually have some sort of contact with them; but with you, she would stay all night thinking about you fucking her raw and senseless until she couldn't remember who she was.

"Stop teasing, Jenna. We both know you were born to be my cum dump, and mine only." You were so horny imagining having that stranger on her knees while she had her mouth open, waiting for you to dump your cum inside of her pretty little throat. You took your cock out of your pants, a little bit earlier than you've expected, but you were getting so worked up that you didn't even thought about your stream routine. You started to stroke the member gently, feeling your dick pulsate right on the palm of your hand. "I know that you're the only one who can take care of this right, don't you think?"

jenna2709: if you were mine, i would make you cum on my pussy everyday.

Jenna started to get scared. Who was this person that was hiding inside of her? Was she really like that? Is she the female version of Christian Grey and doesn't know it yet? How the fuck she got so horny all of a sudden?

She knew that the reason you were playing that little game with her was merely money. But there was a part of her, a tiny part that hoped that you felt attracted to her as much as she felt to you. Even if you'd never seen her face, or her body. It didn't mattered if she had just met you a couple of days ago; she wanted you to want her, the same way she wanted you.

"And if you were mine, I would carve my name on your belly so everyone would know who you belong to." Oh yes, the knife play.

Jenna wasn't naive or innocent, she knew about fetishes and BDSM practices; and thankfully there was the option of marking your kinks on your own profile when you created your account. The actress spent an embarrassing amount of time researching some of your kinks that were listed on your profile (there was so many things she didn't even knew existed, to be completely honest). And the thought of you doing all of those things with her got her aroused in a matter of seconds.

jenna2709: you could carve your name on my face, for all i care.

jenna2709: i would definitely want people to know that i'm yours.

The rest of the livestream went as usual, you doing all of the things that your subs asked you to, Jenna being awarded as the number 1 tipper for the 5th time in a row, nothing out of the ordinary. You were just about to cum for the second time when Jenna tipped you again with a request.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $2000 with the message: i want you to cum for me, again.

"You know I never decline your requests, baby. But, let's be fair this time around?" You answered, a little bit breathless, masturbating your cock as hard as you could. "I'll give you a private livestream if you show me your face."

Oh, a private livestream?

Jenna had been following your for awhile now ever since her first time watching your stream. She knew that private livestreams weren't something you did. And yet, you were here, offering one for free, just to see Jenna's face in return. It was a really good offer, but Jenna couldn't accept. If you found out who she was, the shooting would be the most awkward work experience for both of them. It would be like, "Hey, (Y/N)? Can you get this camera ready for me? Also, I've already seen your dick and I'm having wet dreams with you fucking me like the slut I am." So, she took one last breath after she decided to stick with her original plan and decline.

jenna2709: it's a deal.

#scream #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday #the fallout #you #scream movies #pwp

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rotyoursoul · 1 year

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The Zoldyck’s hire an in-home therapist as Illumi’s wife isn’t having an easy time adjusting to her new lifestyle. Supposedly, she’s allowed to open up as much as she desires. Let’s see where this journey goes.

TW: Yandere themes / (18+ Minors DNI)

————————————

“What brings you both here today?”

“Please help me…” You croak to your only savior who’s seated just a coffee table across from you.

“Y/N.” Illumi warns placing a threatening hand laced with false adornment ontop of yours. His dead eyes move from the side of your face back to the therapists “My wife has been having a hard time adjusting to her new home.”

“Why do you think that is Y/N?”

Your mind quickly weaves from thought to thought, finally deducing that being truthful couldn’t get you in any worse of a situation than you already are.

“I just feel…. trapped.”

“You’ve been granted free reign of the entire estate.” Illumi flatly reminds.

“Mr. Zoldyck please allow your wife to finish her thought.”

“Alright.” They both look at you expectantly. You decide to try and ignore your husbands unblinking gaze and focus on the professional before you.

“I want to go beyond the estate. I miss the mall, flower shops, the market, other people….” You sigh “But Illumi believes I’ll try to escape while I’m out which makes absolutely no sense. Even if I did he’d be able to find me. I’d never really be free.”

She nods at you then turns her attention to your husband

“Illumi do you trust your wife’s word after hearing her thoughts?”

“No.” He sounds bored having already calculated these options long ago. “And as she’s stated, I’d quickly find her. Disciplinary action would ensue. Sleep deprivation, mild starvation, perhaps a needle etc….It’s just bothersome. I have missions to attend.”

Your mouth fell open. How could he admit that so easily?? Surely this went against some health workers code of ethics. The Zoldyck’s had to have been paying her SO well, that his confession didn’t matter.

The therapists expression remained solemn

“Mr. Zoldyck is it safe to say that you’re possessive over the ones you care about?”

“I suppose.”

“You care about me?!” You scoff

“Has that not been made clear?” Illumi questions earnestly

“Mrs. Zoldyck please consider the fact that he’s the one who requested I come here.”

“Oh God, you’re on his side!!” Tears begin to make themselves known as you slump down into the couch and lower into your sorrows.

“I’m not on one side or the other. I am simply here to unite you two.”

A moment of silence falls over the room. After a while, you shake your head in disbelief.

“Whatever just- how many more minutes do we have left?”

—————————————-

A/N: HEY! This is my first time writing for Illumi and publishing so I’m not sure if I captured him correctly. Please let me know! There’s a lot of places this story can go as well. Feel free to give me suggestions. Thank you for reading 🖤

#hxh illumi #yandere #illumi x you #illumi x reader #illumi fanart #illumi hunter x hunter #illumi x y/n #yandere illumi #hunter x hunter fanfic #illumi zoldyck #silva zoldyck #yandere hunter x hunter #hunter hunter #hxh zoldyck #illumi headcanons

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mozzaremi · 1 year

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finally working on the ghost hunter au that i started a few months ago (?), but i did a complete rehaul on the concept

INFODUMP:

(okok, english isn't my first language and i'll probably edit out grammar mistakes when i'll find them, so please bare with me lol)

Initially, Aubrey and Kel meet as internet pen-pals, both share an interest in horror and all things creepy (tho aubrey prefers the creepy but cute stuff). While Aubrey is more of a casual fan, Kel is a full on enjoyer of anything and everything that's spooky: horror movies, creepy stories, and especially the ghost stuff.

Kel would always share to Aubrey about his fantasies of being a professional ghost hunter and maybe having a tv show all about his and Aubrey's adventures in the paranormal world.

Aubrey and Kel both live in the big city, tho Aubrey often visits Faraway as that's where her mother resides. She would often meet up a friend of her's named Basil: a shy guy who's really interested photography and everything related to plants. While hanging out with the flower boy, Aubrey would frequently do Basil's hair and makeup, later on he picks up some neat beauty tips from her that allowed him to explore his style. The visits to Faraway wouldn't last long, only being there for the weekends and holidays before she'd have to go back to her dad in the city.

Eventually Kel and Aubrey make a blog for Ghost hunting. Their content on there is amateur at best, but they gain a loyal following of other ghost enthusiasts, and non enthusiast, mostly just people who really enjoy kel and aubrey's friendship dynamic and their banter.

In their endevours, they would earn a loyal hater, who goes by "The Maverick" who would nickpick any and all instances of paranormal activity. Although sounding pompous and theatrical, he always finds reasonable proof to debunk all their findings.

Skip a few years, Back in faraway basil has to deal with the grief of his grandmother's passing, he would often stay at the graveyard just to mourn. The graveyard in faraway was infamous for having an unknown being living there, no one knowing if it's human and harmless or something paranormal and dangerous. No one has ever been able to get photo evidence of the entity, so they are more often percieved as an urban legend.

One foggy evening, Basil was back at the graveyard, doing his usual mourning session, when something sat besides him on a bench. Eyes full of tears, he didn't dare to face the person, so he continued with what he was doing. Eventually the person(?) starts asking questions to get Basil to vent to him and maybe calm him down and it works. Felling a little bit better Basil faces the person to see a guy his age in a very strange outfit. Once he got a better look at him, he jumped off the bench realising it's the fabled ghost boy of the graveyard. He runs away, but notes the fact that guy he talked to was very nice...

After that, he starts believing in a life after death, and his grief lessens knowing that possibly his grandmother is in a better place

Basil finds out about Aubrey and Kel making a ghost blog, there the two would film themselves searching through abandoned areas to find ghosts... or something, anything really. While they never found anything scary, they had a very good duo dynamic and Basil became somewhat of a fan of theirs. Basil noticed the poor video quality due to it being recorded on a crappy phone (android lol) and it inspired him to purchase a video camera.

When Aubrey visits Faraway again, he offers his cameraman services to her and she agrees. She introduces Basil to Kel and they all hit it off.

One day, when Aubrey and Kel are feeling hopeless of their Ghost Hunting adventure, Basil tells them the time he met a ghost in the graveyard back in faraway. They both take his word for it.

They get Hero to drive them to faraway, Hero who is a Uni dropout, he really doesn't have anything better to do besides taking up odd jobs to pay rent. He has saved a lot of money throughout the years of being uni-free and working at basically every retail job in the city, so the though of having a road-trip didn't bother him.

Once they are at the town of faraway, Hero hands them a packed lunch, and the gang is off to find a ghost! Being in the graveyard, things felt fruitless, not a lot of things were happening besides the fog that started to form. Kel got tired and started reaching for his bag to get the sandwich that Hero packed him. But there was a problem... there were no sandwiches to be found in his bag... Suddently his eyes meet the figure of the faraway ghost boy who was snacking on a BLT...

Kel alerts his friends to come grab some footage of the ghoul right in front of him, but an issue arose... the video camera wasn't working and couldn't get Sunny in the shot without the device glitching out.

The ghoulish boy named Sunny sees how restless, but persistent the ghost hunter crew was, he found their antics humorous at best, but once the big brother Hero comes to check up on them is when Sunny is on full guard

He summons chains from under the ground, binding the 4 visitors in place. Aproching them again he threatens to suck all the life out of them. They start pleading for their life and a idea accured...

Sunny gave them an offer to help him find his long lost sister...He is unsure if she's still alive or not, but he still feels the presence on her in the living world through the Something chained to his foot. In return he would spare their life and let them film him for their ghost blog. The gang agrees to his offer and just so they don't double cross sunny, he lays a curse on them that if they leave him behind on purpose, they would have their souls taken away from their bodies, turning them into lifeless husks.

AND SO THAT'S HOW THEIR ADVENTURE STARTS! they have this sorta mystery gang adventure going on, traveling across the US to find Mari while also having wacky high-jinxs and sunny allerting the others of ghostly presences in the area for Aubrey, Kel and Basil's ghost hunting blog content, just so they would get enough blog donations to keep traveling!

#omori #omori au #my art #omori sunny #sunny omori #omori aubrey #aubrey omori #kel omori #omori kel #hero omori #omori hero #basil omori #omori basil #camerashy cryptid of faraway au

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leverage-ot3 · 4 months

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notable moments from The Cross My Heart Job

leverage 4.09

(team comes down an escalator toward the main floor)

Sophie: Well, that trip was a complete disaster.

Hardison: It was a train wreck.

Eliot: No, it was a shipwreck. And you know how I know that? 'Cause I was in the wreck.

Hardison: Hey, man, I don't want to hear you complain. At least you don't have to fix th-the ear buds. You know what?

Eliot: Man, don't talk to me about the ear buds! I just fought three ex-Brazilian combat divers with spear-guns, underwater!

Hardison: I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it.

Eliot: You believe this? (taps Sophie’s arm)

Sophie: Ow, don't touch me. I am sunburnt everywhere. I hate playing the French heiress on the topless beach.

Parker: Oh, I don't know what you're complaining about. I didn't even get to see the emerald.

Hardison: Are you for real?

Eliot: Oh, my god, for the last time, it's not an emerald. All right? It's an island. It's the "Emerald of the Caribbean."

chaotic family on an escalator

- - - - -

Parker: The heart could be anywhere by now. They could have jumped in a taxi and driven off.

Sophie: No, no, we have to assume it's still in the airport, that they're planning to fly it out.

Parker: Why?

Eliot: 'Cause otherwise, we've already lost

- - - - -

Eliot: All right. They're in there. We're gonna need a distraction.

(Sophie takes off her pants and uses her long shirt like a dress, then shakes out her hair and pulls a pair of heels from her purse. Parker counts some cash)

Parker: All right, they told Linda to call from a pay phone for instructions once she made the drop.

Eliot (hands Parker money): Better hurry up, or they're gonna start getting suspicious.

Parker: It's a good thing we didn't stay on that island to see those emeralds.

Eliot: Parker, I just t...

(Sophie leans on Eliot to put on her shoes)

Eliot: You carry high heels in your purse?

Sophie: I always travel with heels. (takes Parker’s scarf and ties it around her waist) How's this? Distracting enough?

Parker: Hmm.

parker and eliot both look away, partially to give her privacy but partially to act as a wall so that other people won’t see her changing

notice the stark contrast between this scene and the other changing scene in this episode

- - - - -

(the clerk closes the doors. Inside, Eliot pulls the kidnapper between two tables while Parker talks to Tanya)

Paker: Yeah, that will work. We'll get you a little taser, carry it with you wherever you go-

parker and her tasers + being surprisingly good with kids

- - - - -

Nate (to Eliot): What do you got on this guy?

Eliot: He's not a professional. He has no combat training. Lousy Zanshin.

Parker: The what?

Eliot: He's a loc... It means "personal awareness." Thug for hire, but very well funded. (hands Nate tickets) Two first-class tickets, one for him and one for the girl, and that's how they got past security, and (hands gun to Nate) plastic gun. One or two shots in the barrel warps, but that's pretty much all you need, very pricey hardware.

Parker: Why would someone pay for that but not hire a professional?

Eliot: He doesn't want a professional. He wants a local so we can't trace him back to him.

- - - - -

(Eliot uses a cord to tie the kidnapper’s hands)

Eliot (to Sophie): Don't suppose you travel with handcuffs.

Sophie: No, not on this trip.

👀👀👀

- - - - -

Parker: Plus the ear buds are busted.

Hardison: And I burned our phones and our credit cards so we can't be traced.

Sophie: Most of our money went on bribing the waiter.

Eliot: We're operating in a secured area.

Parker: And my lock picks are checked.

Hardison: And airport wi-fi is a joke. Face it, we're practically naked.

- - - - -

(Eliot and Parker walk out of the Restaurant and part ways. Parker approaches a kiosk that sells computers and looks around, then crouches to look at the locks before walking away. Eliot approaches an electronic store before yelling catches his attention from a check in desk not far away)

Platinum Flyer: You guys! Hey! Platinum flyer over here. Come here. Somebody look at me.

Airline Clerk: Sir, please calm down.

Platinum Flyer: Ju... let me stop you right there, okay? I don't care what seats you have left, all right? Do you see this? (holds up a card) I am a vista Atlantic platinum flyer, all right? Is this card gold? No. Look at it. Is it silver? No.

(Eliot looks around, sees a magazine and picks it up)

Platinum Flyer: It's platinum, all right? So if you think that I am sitting back in coach with the rabble, you got another think coming, all right?

(Eliot puts the magazine over the Platinum Flyer’s briefcase as the man tries to drop his wallet into it)

Platinum Flyer: You can just forget it. I don't even want to talk to you anymore. Who's that? Thing one and thing two, come here. You guys. Hey!

(Eliot walks back to the electronics store and pulls the Platinum Flyer’s credit card from the wallet. He enters the store and grabs several packages of walkie talkies, then flags down a clerk)

Eliot: Yo, yo, yo. Come over here.

(Parker tries on various sunglasses, stealing a pair before walking away. She walks past again and steals a snow globe. On another pass she steals a bag. She returns to the computer kiosk and breaks the sunglasses to picks the locks, revealing an old style CRT monitor)

all this competence porn, it’s SO GOOD

- - - - -

(later Parker and Eliot take apart the walkie talkies at a table while Hardison uses an old computer at the bar with Sophie and Linda watching while Nate paces)

Nate: Hardison, come on.

Hardison: Look, man, this is like stone knives and bearskins, okay? Nobody's asking Eliot to fight a guy with a nerf sword.

Eliot: Damascus, 2002.

Hardison: Like you've been to Damascus.

domestic parker and eliot taking apart walkie talkies? eliot legit sword fighting with a nerf sword? amazing

- - - - -

(the clerk watches from behind them, amazed)

Hardison: Wh-what? Come on, man. Like you've never seen a man travel with a desktop before. Go.

LMAO

- - - - -

Nate: Right there! Right there. Him.

Sophie: Dean Chesney?

Nate: Dean Chesney, CEO of Vertronics defense contractor. I had my eye on him for quite a while, but he was never a high-priority target.

Hardison: Why not?

Nate: He was dying.

- - - - -

(Eliot sits down and his feet hit against the struggling kidnapper. Eliot kicks him in the head but he continues making muffled sounds)

Nate: Are you done?

(Eliot kicks the man again)

Eliot: Yeah

- - - - -

Hardison: After we get out of the public areas of the terminal, we work on level two. It's ground crew, tarmac access. It gets us from here to the private terminal.

Parker: How do we get that? Break Eliot's wrist?

Hardison: What? N-no, no. We just pick one up from where the ground crew left it.

[Locker Room]

Parker (opening combination lock): Yeah, this will keep my stuff safe, from a 6-year-old with the DTs.

(Parker opens the locker and removes a jacket. Eliot closes the locker and hits the lock on the one next to it, opening the lock. He pulls out a level 2 badge and hands it to Parker)

Eliot: That's two.

(Parker and Eliot begin to change clothes)

🔥🔥🔥 scene tho 🔥🔥🔥

also, notice how they start getting changed without turning around or anything, like hardison would have immediately turned around because that’s who he is. she literally immediately takes her shirt off without a care. he doesn’t even blink at it. eliot and parker have a very strong, nonverbal, physical bond because they’re similar entities. they understand each other on a deep level because of their pasts and there isn’t that type of need for modesty between them.

also they’re literally so close to each other when they’re doing this??? literally, personal space? they don’t know her

ALSO, eliot throws his shirt at the camera and idk it feels like he’s giving parker privacy from the “onlookers” (aka the camera) if you get what I’m saying,,,

- - - - -

Sophie: Well, we have to lure them out.

Parker: Oh, okay. Set Nate on fire?

Eliot: Settle down

she mouths “no” back at him and they have a silent exchange where she ends up smiling I love them

- - - - -

Hardison (pacing): Come on, Eliot. Come on, come on. Come on, man.

Announcer: Mr. Picard. Mr. Kirk Picard, please meet your party at door "E.

ELIOT KNOWS HOW TO GET HARDISONS ATTENTION. HE KNOWS TO MAKE A STAR TREK REFERENCE AND BAM HARDISON KNOWS WHATS UP. WHAT D O R K S

- - - - -

(Eliot gets into a cart that Parker is sitting in. She holds up the keys and hands them to him)

Parker: Let's ride

her SMILE and EXCITEMENT

- - - - -

Hardison: Excuse me. Uh, something's wrong with my pin. Can you reset it for me?

(Hardison hands the card to the guard, who scans it)

Guard: Can you confirm your old pin?

(the screen shows that the card belongs to a woman and the guard looks at Hardison in surprise)

Guard: Uh...

Hardison: What?

Guard: Wh—

Hardison: what? You got a, you got a problem? My little transformation? Go on, speak your mind. Yeah, I had some surgery, huh? A little nip, a little tuck, a little pop, okay? And now I am who I'm supposed to be. I used to be Francesca. Now my name is Frank!

Guard: Um...

(a second guard turns to look at Hardison)

Hardison: You got a problem? You... excu—excu—I didn't know this was the club. You all up in the mix, don't even know the flavor. What's your problem? (walks around the desk aggressively) You got a, you—everybody got a problem with this? Look, racism, sexism, anti-semitism? That's how you y'all want to play this? Cool. I thought it was a no-no in airport security, but I see y'all profilin' me right, left, and center, everywhere. You know what? Shame on you. Shame on your mama. Shame on your kids.

(Hardison glances at the monitor to see the pin number, then walks back around the desk)

Guard: I-it's fine. I-it's fine. I got no problem with anything. Uh, it-it looks like you used to, used to be a-a really pretty girl.

Hardison: Used to be?

Guard: A-and n-now you're a-a very handsome gentleman.

Hardison: You hitting on me?

Guard: C-can you confirm your old pin?

Hardison: It's 5135.

Guard: Uh. (scans the card) Okay, there. Try that.

Hardison: Thank you. (looks at second guard) You better re-adjust your peripherals.

Guard 2: Real smooth.

(Hardison returns to the card reader and scans the card, entering the pin)

Reader: Pin accepted.

Hardison: Don't care what anybody else says. Next time, I'm taking the train.

I can’t tell if this scene was transphobic or not ??? like, it could have been worse and he called out people who would be judgmental of his “transformation” ???

like there was like one other kinda transphobic thing they did in the show but I forget the episode

- - - - -

Nate: I know what you're gonna say.

Sophie: I think you should have a drink.

Nate: Okay, I didn't know what you were gonna say.

Sophie: Look, we don't like it when you drink, (pours him a drink) but we trust you when you do. We both knew this was gonna get personal. We need you to stay clear-headed. You let it get to you now, it's gonna go bad for all of us. Be very careful, Nate.

- - - - -

Nate: Sam would have been 13 this year. A teenager. Almost a man. I mean, you know, probably a big pain in the ass, but… Joshua Spin is getting out of that hospital bed.

(Sophie nods. Nate sighs and takes the drink, looking down at Sophie’s hand over his)

- - - - -

hardison’s GRIN when he sees all the computers in the tower 🥺

- - - - -

Parker: It took us 8 minutes to get there. It's gonna take us 8 minutes to get back. Wait. (goes around to the front of the cart)

Eliot: What are you doing? Wait. No way!

(Parker lies on the ground and reaches under the cart)

Eliot: Come on, Parker, we got to go! We got to get-- Let's go! What are you do-- Quit monkeying around under there!

(Parker stands up holding a piece of electronics)

Eliot: Did you just pull something out of the engine?

Parker: Yeah. Spark regulator, keeps the cart from going more than 25 miles an hour. Now we'll get there in 4 minutes.

(Eliot starts the cart and takes off quickly)

Parker: Hey! Whoa! Whoa! Yeah!

- - - - -

Nate: Last week on that island, you faked a volcanic eruption. How is this harder?

HE DID WHAT NOW

- - - - -

Nate: You just sell it to the tower.

Sophie: Massdot special?

Nate: Massdot special.

Linda: Massdot special?

Sophie: Yes! (takes Linda’s phone and makes a call)

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: National Weather Service. This is Rachel.

Sophie: Oh, thank God!

[Crab-a-Rama]

Sophie: I was just out walking my dogs, and I saw a tornado touch down!

(Nate pulls up pictures of tornadoes on the computer)

Rachael: Are you sure?

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: The current forecast don't indicate any severe-weather patterns.

Sophie: I'm sure.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Sophie: I took a photo of it with my phone. I'm sending it to you now.

(Nate sends a picture of a tornado to Rachael as he dials the phone)

[National Weather Service]

(Rachael looks at the picture in shock)

Rachael: Uh, please hold, ma'am. (places Sophie on hold and takes another call) National weather service. This is Rachel.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: Are you asleep at the wheel? There's a tornado out here by the airport right now! A freaking tornado! Come on!

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: Bill. Bill!

Bill: What is it?

Rachael: We got calls here. I think we need to issue a tornado warning for the Cincinnati metropolitan area.

- - - - -

Chesney: --to make the top of the list. This is my only chance. I've planned for months. I have eight backup contingencies. I'm fighting for my life, Mr. Ford! What are you fighting for?

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: I am fighting for that 15-year-old boy that you're going to kill.

[Chesney’s Room]

Chesney: God helps those who help themselves.

Nate: And I help people who can't.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: And God help you if anything should happen to that boy, because if he spends more than one second longer in that hospital than he needs to, I will make it my mission in life to end you.

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: I will ruin you.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: I will ruin your name. I will ruin your company. I will bring down everything you have ever touched. And when I am done, I will hunt you down--

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: --and I will kill you myself.

[Crab-a-Rama]

(Nate hangs up the phone)

- - - - -

parker yells “yee haw” a lot and I love her for that

- - - - -

Pilot: Tower, field is in sight.

Program: We have you in sight. Clear to land on runway 1-8.

Hardison: Okay, flight 4-0-9. W-we have a visual. You are clear to land on runway 1-8.

Pilot: Roger. Clear to land.

(the airplane lands safely)

Pilot: Tower, we are down.

Hardison: Yes! Hell yeah! That's what I'm talking about.

Pilot: Say again, tower?

Hardison: I'm sorry. No, no, I'm sorry. It's cool. It's cool. It's cool. Celebrate with me. All right.

hardison managed to land an airplane with 300 people on it with nothing more than a computer and a flight simulator and we STAN our intelligent man

- - - - -

eliot was always standing next to hardison in all the extra scenes in this episode and we love to see it

- - - - -

(Eliot looks at Nate and Sophie, then nudges Hardison)

Eliot: Let's go.

(Eliot grabs Parker on the way down the hall, Hardison follows them)

his lil pat on hardison’s shoulder? how he places a guiding hand on parker’s arm, leading her away? we LOVE to see casual touches and casual intimacy between them

- - - - -

so hardison likes to assemble model helicopters in his spare time sometimes and nate assembles model ships in his ???

- - - - -

Chesney: So now what? You can't report me without exposing yourself. And what's to stop me from trying again?

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: I am. (hits remote to bring up information and a video feed on the monitors) I'm watching you. I'm watching your money, your people, your company. What have you got there, a pulse rate of 86?

[Chesney’s Room]

(Chesney looks around in alarm)

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Oh, look at that.

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: Just jumped up to 104. That can't be good for you.

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Make your peace now, Chesney. (continues putting model together) Because if I see anything, anything I don't like...

[Chesney’s Room]

Chesney: Well, Mr. Ford it seems you've killed me after all.

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Oh, I didn't kill you. God killed you. I just made sure it took. (hangs up)

#eliot spencer #parker #alec hardison #leverage ot3 #parker x hardison x eliot #leverage #nate ford #nate ford meta #sophie devereaux #sophie devereaux meta #parker meta #alec hardison meta #eliot spencer meta #meta #notable moments #the cross my heart job #leverage season 4 #mine #leverage: let's go steal a queue

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aziraphales-library · 7 months

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hello mods!! ive just read a fic called ''curve of old bones'' and ''snow angel'' i believe it was called and was wondering what fic you can recommend me to read that follows the themes of fake dating/ enemies to friends to lover/ pining whilst fucking sorta thing???

Hey, we have tags for everything you're asking for! #fake/pretend relationship, #enemies to lovers, #enemies to friends to lovers, #pining while fucking. As pining while fucking only has two posts, here are some more to add...

Curses foiled again by hapax (E)

To be blunt: in order to return to tip-top condition, Aziraphale was going to have to get laid. And the angel had spent almost six thousand years of his existence among humans assiduously avoiding anything of the sort. Aziraphale turns to his hereditary enemy for assistance with a particularly pesky curse. After all, it’s not like a demon has any feelings that might be involved.

Ambrosia by pilatesandpinot (E)

Those damn aphrodisiacs. They chatted as they soaked in the water, Crowley ate from a platter of fruit, hoping the sugar from them would somehow cure his sudden lightheadedness, as the blood in his head was probably pumping down to his groin, and get rid of the heated feeling in his abdomen, while Aziraphale lathered her arms and shoulders with oil. When she moved down to her breasts and tummy, she leaned back a bit, slowly and carefully cupping herself and making a small little hum sound as she rubbed her belly. Crowley had to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from groaning, watching the glisten of the angel’s skin, the warm glow she seemed to be emitting, her lush and curvy body sitting comfortably in the water. He was indeed fucked. ------------------------------ Aziraphale and Crowley have oysters at Petronius's, and soon learn while visiting the bath house afterwards why oysters are one of Aphrodite's favorite foods.

May My Teaching Drop as the Rain by Dee_Morris (E)

Several people on Twitter have commented that there isn't enough Ineffable Tutors content out there, and I have to agree. The book doesn't go into very much detail about what Cortese and Harrison get up to in the years they spend educating young Warlock, and as a fic writer there's nothing as much fun as a blank space to play in. I expect that the stories in this series will more or less stand alone, but I'll add notes and recaps where I think it's necessary. These will mostly be light-hearted horny adventures with little to no angst. Tags may change or be added as I write more stories.

Out There by snae_b (E)

Small town paper, small town news, and Aziraphale always gets stuck with the shit stories. Strange lights in the desert? Aziraphale might as well be writing about el Chupacabra. Again. At least his source is cute, even if he is a little out there.

The Arrangement by TawnyOwl95 (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley are set up on a blind date as a joke by their respective housemates. They decide to get their own back and call everybody's bluff by *gasp* fake dating!

Craving by DawnOfTomorrow (E)

“You want me to pay for it.” He drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” His assistant said, entirely unimpressed by the fact that he could fire her. “You said-” “I said that it would probably be a good idea for you to get some, and if you can’t be bothered to do it the normal way, that there are professional options. And then I said that if you’d like, I could recommend someone.” --- He called the fucking number. He didn’t know why – okay, he did, he was an idiot, tipsy, lonely, and horny – but he called the damn number. --- Even just looking at the blonde’s profile, he felt a twinge in his gut. Blonde curls indeed – over features that revealed the other man’s age, light eyes, and a cute, upturned nose. Slim lips, currently curved in a smile for the bartender. Crowley studied the rest of him too – a bit of chub, not enough to be fat, but definitely dad-bod territory. He sighed softly, wondering what sort of witch Anathema was, because she had been spot on about this guy being his type. He didn’t even need to see the large hands or plush thighs to make up his mind – this… this could work.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #adult omens #pining while fucking #human au #mod d

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tenshinokorin · 7 months

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TnK's Trigun Fic Listing

Ok now that I've got 15 fics out for Trigun (so far) and at least a couple of those are upwards of 20K and some of them are sequels and followups and ongoing, I thought maybe I should do a proper list of things, to make it easier for people who want to read in some kind of order. I'm terrible about talking up my own work but this is also for my own reference so that's fine, right? ^^; All fics are Vashwood-centric (I will get to Nai in a minute I have a backlog) and ratings vary from Gen to Explicit, though all are intended for an adult audience. This list is complete as of September '23, I will update it periodically as needed!

NB: I'm lucky enough to have gotten fanart for some of these and sometime when my head is not full of mud I'll go in and add links to those where I can. (Or please drop a link in the replies if you are one of the wonderful artists in question!)

THE BIG THREE STORYLINES:

Someday Out of the Blue & I Believe in the Kingdom Come

Trigun '98 canon. Reincarnation fic. The first one is a story I started writing over 20 years ago and quit after a chapter because I was just too heartbroken (and did not know it, but was also too young). Picked it up and finished it this April (2023) after Stampede clobbered me and I fell off the "we don't talk about wolfwood" wagon. The second story is a direct sequel to tie up some loose ends from the first one, and also to indulge my need for a proper happy ending. (I think a lot of folks don't realize Someday has a sequel but it does!!)

Black is the Color and Mysterious Ways

Trimax Canon. Resurrection/Fix-it/Angstmance with a much shorter, sillier, smuttier epilogue. Three years after the end of Trigun Maximum, Vash is having some trouble laying his ghosts to rest. (You may have seen this incredible artwork which has gotten around a bit and boosts the story better than any summary of mine possibly could.) Weird things happened when I was writing this, I don't mind telling you. Mysterious Ways was mostly an excuse to explore some of the more interesting concepts brought up by the first one, but saying anything more would be spoilery.

Eyes of the Storm

(Mostly) Trimax canon. Cryptid Vash AU, slowburn romance, ongoing. When Nicholas D. Wolfwood gets roped into being the new caretaker for the now-abandoned orphanage where he spent his childhood, he soon finds out that his own hidden memories are not the only thing haunting him. (What the fuck is a Typhoon?) Wolfwood, Vash, Livio, Elendira, et al. This is the one currently in progress at six chapters out of ??. Pretty SFW so far BUT NOT FOR MUCH LONGER CAVEAT LECTOR.

List continues with standalone and shorter fics below the cut!

Honeymoon

Generic Trimax/98 setting. Plant Heat, Wingfic, Tentacle Fic, What the fuck is Hay Fever. Wolfwood offers to help Vash out with a personal problem and gets a little more than he bargained for.

Strange Powers

Generic Trimax/98 setting, comedy/smut/potato jokes/fisting with a loaded prosthetic. What if Vash and Wolfwood (accidentally) got really, really hella high?

Hurricane

Trigun '98 Canon.

Vash: Make money? As a priest?

WW: Well. *mysteriously* Not only that.

Vash: (oh my gosh he's a prostitute)

Shortfic. Wolfwood tries to figure out how to offer his services to someone he doesn't really want to be a paying customer. Short and smutty while also demolishing Wolfwood's professional boundaries.

Skin Tight

Generic Trimax/98 setting. The Infamous Red Dress. PWP, Wolfwood needs to be in the Vash Sensory Deprivation Tank, Vash in high heels, the dress gave its life for this fic you should read it and honor its sacrifice. Look. This is just porn, guys. You want the porny fic? This is the porny fic. (just kidding most of them are porny fics but this one is especially so.)

Secondhand Secrets

Generic Trimax/98 setting. Introspective/Vignette/Wolfwood POV. Vash's artificial arm always moves in his sleep, and Wolfwood wonders what he's looking for.

Personal Jesus

Badlands Rumble canon (post-film), Wolfwood has poor emotional coping strategies, hurt/comfort (Wolfwood provides both), first-time. That red hotel minifridge never stood a chance.

A Fool From Any Direction

Trigun '98 Vash's weird horny schtick is a front, and self-respect doesn't save lives. Which is too bad because when Wolfwood finds out what Vash is planning next he's gonna kill him.

Benediction

Trimax but could also be '98; Sometimes being a hero is not all it's cracked up to be. Or maybe Vash is the one cracking up. Hurt/Comfort, Wound Care & Bible Quotes, Noman's Land is a bitch of a planet. Shortfic, feels, non-explicit/no sex.

A Bit of a Tight Spot

Generic Trimax/98 setting. Costume Porn, PWP, No corsets were harmed in the making of this fic. I feel like this one gets missed a lot which is MADDENING because you guys. WOLFWOOD'S DOUBLE Ds IN A CORSET. And like, in a gender euphoria way, not in a comedy drag kind of way (though comedy drag does make a small appearance). I don't know how the good minister tightlaced in cuban stockings while giving Vash a blowjob in front of a mirror in the attic of a whorehouse can get so often overlooked, maybe my title or summary is lacking, but it's one of the hottest things I've ever written and its engagement is just in the basement? When (emphatic baffled hand motions to Nicholas D. Wolfwood wearing a garter like a thigh-holster). Anyway.

The Quick and the Bed

Trigun '98 Comedy, Romance, First Time. The single bed trope. Drunk Idiocy. Wolfwood's vows are in serious danger. (Wolfwood does not have vows.) Readers have let me know that they find this one amusing. Roommates of readers have sent me threats of bodily harm due to badly-stifled hysterical laughter at 3am.

THAT'S ALL FOR NOW MORE STORIES WILL BE ADDED AS THEY OCCUR!

SMALL DISCLAIMER: I'm a full-time working writer and my fanfic is something I give away for free out of love. Please don't copy, alter, plagiarize, feed to AI in any form, fold, spindle, or mutilate. I'm not in the market for concrit, but if you like my stories please feel free to leave me a comment/kudo, download/print/fanbind for personal use, or let other readers know!

#trigun #vashwood #trigun fanfic #tnk fic #trigun '98 #trigun maximum #trigun stampede

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starastrologyy · 1 year

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Astrology Observations🤍

Hey everyone! I haven’t posted in a while as I do have a full time job. However, my chart readings are still open (the link is in my bio!) On the topic of chart readings, I get quite a few DMs asking if I do free chart readings. I unfortunately do not at this time, doing chart readings takes a lot of time and energy. I try my best to make my ‘observation’ posts as detailed as possible, and my patreon posts are all public! Meaning you don’t have to pay to view them. I have no problem answering a question about your chart for free but an in-depth chart reading will require you to purchase a reading🤍

Okay back to the post!

Having your Solar Return Sun in the 8th house isn’t as scary or foreboding as people make it seem. The 8th house IS the house of change, death, and transformation. However, I’ve seen this placement in a Solar Return chart as having something significant happen. Such as purchasing your own home, moving out of your parents home to go to college, a major change in your finances! Getting married and having to share your assets with your spouse etc.. This year will likely be one of the most pivotal years of your life. I’m not saying it will be an easy year (though it can be). However, you will likely enter your next solar return year in a completely different financial, physical or even emotional head space.

On the topic of solar returns, if your solar return Neptune makes a conjunction to your Ascendant, you may find that people are very drawn to you that year. I’ve seen this manifest as people all of a sudden paying close attention to you, or they may be idealizing/glamorizing you in some way. In terms of romance, you are likely to have many suitors this year! This is especially true if you have planets such as the Sun, Moon, Jupiter/Neptune (ruler of Ascendant) in your Solar return 5th house.

If someone’s ascendant falls into your 10th house, you probably like being seen with them. As in, you take pride in other people knowing that you are associated with them. Alternatively, it can mean that you feel as if they have the potential to impact your reputation or your professional success! (This can be in a positive or a negative way). One of the most straightforward manifestations of this overlay is that the ascendant person could literally be older than you, or they can be someone you look up to in some way.

Chiron in the 9th house can manifest as growing up believing in a specific religion/philosophy, only to drastically change your beliefs as a young adult or as an adult. For example, growing up in a strict Christian home, only to become atheist. I also can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen this placement manifesting as someone not going to college or someone dropping out of college for whatever reason!

If you’re a woman and you have harsh Venus-Pluto aspects (square,opposition and sometimes the conjunction) you may find that other women can be very envious of you. With the conjunction, you may find yourself attracting a lot of “frenemies” where you can tell that they are not fond of you, but for whatever reason they still hang around you. Excessive and constant comments about your appearance especially in childhood are also a common manifestation of having hard Venus/Pluto aspects. The conjunction specifically!

If you have an earth sign (especially Capricorn) over your 5th or 7th house cusps. Your friends/people close to you may say that you have a “type” when it comes to dating/romantic partners! Its not necessarily about looks (though it can be) but you always seem to go for the same “type of guy”. However, if you have a sign such as Gemini or Aquarius over the 5th/7th house cusps your friends/family may even be shocked at how different your romantic partners have been to each other physically & personality wise!

You’re likely to share some 3H,4H and 9H synastry with some of your closest friends! You may also see Saturn sextile Ascendant or Venus trine Saturn synastry aspects in some of your long-term friendships!

In terms of familial synastry, you may very well have one of your big three signs (sun,moon, ascendant) being the same sign that is on the 5th house cusp of one of your parents charts! Alternatively, you may have a personal planet that is the same as the sign that is on the 5th house of your parents composite chart! Interestingly, I have often seen similarities between the angles in parent-child synastry! For example let’s say you have your rising sign in Aquarius , one or both of your parents may have their IC, descendent, or midheaven in Aquarius! I’ve actually seen this happening a few times!

TW:Mental Health/Illness

Talking about mental health/mental illness is always a very controversial topic in the Astro community. No, Astrology cannot take the place of an actual professional medical diagnosis. I am also not a medical professional, so please do not self-diagnose. However, I believe that Astrology should be used in a way that enables us to get a holistic understanding of ourselves. Having said this, Mercury square Neptune in a birth chart is an aspect that I have seen countless times in the charts of people who have opened up with their mental health struggles. BPD & substance dependency/abuse are arguably the most common ones I’ve seen with this placement. On the more positive side, people with this aspect often have some kind of creative/artistic talent such as being able to sing,draw, act etc… individuals with this placement are also likely to advocate for mental health awareness, or the end to the stigmatization of mental illness!

#synastry #astrology tumblr #astrology blog #astrology #astrology observations #astro thoughts #astrologyposts #astro tips #astro posts #astro notes #astrology content #astro blog #astrology tips #astrology community #astrologyreadings

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undead-supernova · 2 months

Text

I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

The Room Burned Down

Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

Masterlist

This chapter is based off of Dancing With Our Hands Tied and I'm curious to see what people think about me twisting around the perspective of who is actually relating more to the songs

plot: maybe going to award shows together isn't as fun as you think it's gonna be...so, baby, can we dance through an avalanche?...I'd hold you as the water rushes in...

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: public shaming, some fluff, a hint of spice, arguments, smoking, mentions of addiction, mentions of abuse, mentions of fatphobia

easter egg count: 29

wc: 5.8k

“Do I have to talk to the press?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” your manager, Clara, said, typing away on her phone.

“They’re going to rake me across the coals.”

It had been nearly a month since your first date with him. Despite his hope that the noise would die down, it was only exasperated by the fact that you two hadn’t been seen out in public, sparking breakup rumors. But it was only that he had his promo and you had yours, traveling round and round with no time to rest. You even had outfit fittings for this very event that kept you in two different cities. It hadn’t put any strain on your relationship. If anything, it did the opposite. You lived your own lives, calling when possible. Texting nonstop once you caught a break at the same time. It was all so new for you.

Clara looked at you through the reflection of the mirror, her professional face on. “If they do, just smile and walk away. Thank them for their time. Just try to stay neutral like you always do. You’ll be perfect, I promise.”

Knock.

You peered over at the wall, a smile forming on your lips.

You knew exactly who would pull that move.

Knock, knock, you sent back.

Knock, knock, knock.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

“Stop it, oh my god.”

A giggle left your lips. “Sorry.”

It was merely a coincidence that Corroded Coffin was getting ready for the American Music Awards on the same floor as you…directly next to you, that is. All by happenstance and absolutely nothing else. There was no coordination whatsoever and if anyone accused you of such a thing, you’d deny it.

But here you were, causing mischief within the first hour of being situated. To be fair, you hadn’t seen Eddie yet, rushed off before Corroded Coffin even showed up. It was whiplash, Clara already spouting off the plans for the night. The time you’d get into the car. When you’d get out. The red carpet. Reminding you how to pose, how to smile. All the while, people floated around you with makeup brushes and endless cups of coffee. Hushed whispers and sighs.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

When you didn’t respond, you watched your door open in the reflection with Eddie stepping in, dodging the assistants and the assistant’s assistant running around. You smiled as you took in his appearance. Loose t-shirt and sweatpants, all cozy and soft. Hair damp, bangs pulled back. You noticed he’d been sat down for makeup, only one of his eyelids dusted in navy eye shadow.

God, you’d missed him.

“What’re you doing in here?” you asked, nearly jumping up to give him the biggest kiss he’d ever received. But when your knees jerked, Clara placed a hand on your shoulder to keep you down. The pout on your lips wouldn’t even sway her.

“You didn’t answer my knock,” Eddie said, trying to sound innocent, placing a hand over his chest. “I thought you were dead.”

You giggled, but Clara only sighed, shaking her head as she fought a smile. “I can’t believe you both. Like toddlers, I swear.” She turned to Eddie. “Get out of here. We leave in two hours, and I know that hair takes at least one. Don’t make me call Paige.”

Eddie sent you a wink from the shadowed eye. “See you later, babe.”

You chuckled. “Bye, Eddie.”

Today was big for the two of you. Big big. You were sitting at a reserved table with Corroded Coffin. Just you, Eddie, Grant, Gareth, Jeff, and Ronnie. All together. In public. On TV.

Your boyfriend would be with you unlike the last few wanting nothing to do with the exposure, usually hiding across the room. But Eddie insisted, only wanting to be near you all night. There for you, rooting for you as you were there for him, rooting for him. Getting to spend time with his close friends and his girlfriend.

Everything was starting to fall into place. The noise was becoming more bearable the more they stayed out of earshot. The world was unable to penetrate the magnificent walls you’d built around your hearts. And if you could just get through tonight without a fuck up or a bout of controversy, everything would be okay.

When you emerged from your hotel room, nearly ten minutes late, you found Eddie waiting for you, dark eyes widened as he looked over your outfit. You were in a Sixties Go-go dancer fantasy with a sparkly pink romper, the straps wrapped around your neck. Tall block-heeled boots reaching your knees. A thick pink boa to drape over your elbows. Dripping in jewels.

An absolute daydream.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Eddie exclaimed, picking you up and spinning you around, the boa floating to the floor. You took in his scent, that beautiful mixture of nicotine and bergamot from whatever cologne he’d started wearing lately. His breath was fresh against your neck, your ear, your jaw. His warmth bleeding through his double-breasted navy suit, textured from the polyester and cherry blossom pattern.

When a nearly silent gasp left your lips, Eddie wasted no time with hiding himself with his hair and nipping at your neck. Your grasp on his shoulders tightened as his fingers dug into your sides. Feeling his tongue lightly flick over the mark made you feel, well, insane. Had it really been an entire month without his breath? Had you really spent an entire mouth with his voice over the phone, guiding you through your orgasms as you whined and begged for him? Had you really gone this long without him?

Despite wanting to pull him back into the room and rip off his ridiculously expensive clothes, you grabbed your boa and his hand before jogging towards the elevator.

Jeff, Grant, Gareth, and Ronnie were already down at the car, probably drinking complimentary champagne and getting ready to sit in the audience for four hours, waiting for their names to be called. You couldn’t blame them. It did get rather boring after a while of the cameras and commercial breaks and announcers and performances. You’d almost been asked to perform, but before you could say yes, they asked Olivia to do it instead. It wasn’t something you minded, but there was a little part of you had felt sad at the loss.

But you were here to have fun, not worrying about who was who or what people had to say about you. Just have fun with the people who knew what real fun was. Be able to survive the night.

Survive. Endure. Have fun.

As you made your way through to the lobby, hand in hand, you glanced over at Eddie again. You couldn’t believe how beautiful he was, always seeming to take your breath away. It was an accurate cliché, but one that couldn’t fully encompass how you felt. Hell, the English language wasn’t even enough.

“You’re a vision in navy,” you complimented, taking him in once again.

“Apparently, it’s a deep Prussian,” he corrected before rolling his eyes.

“Oh, my bad,” you replied sarcastically.

“Hey!”

Paige was storming towards you, scowling.

When you looked at Eddie, he just smiled at her and waved. “Paige, how lovely to see you tonight.”

But Paige merely groaned. “Get your asses to the car.”

“Look how beautiful my girlfriend is.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, Eddie—”

“Cut it, Romeo,” Paige interrupted, shoving you through the door and into the limo with the rest of the band. Everyone cheered, handing you both champagne before clinking your glasses together.

You couldn’t help but look over at Eddie, his grin just as wide as yours.

I’m so in love with you, you thought, so close to letting it fall out. I’m so, so in love with you.

“Come on,” Paige shouted, making you flinch as you watched her signal to the driver. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

As soon as you were let out of the car, Clara led you away from the group, ushering you towards the photo ops and interviews. Men behind cameras called your name, begged for your attention. This was still something you found strange, like being held in a cage. You were to be spectated, gawked at by the public as nothing more than a show. A source of entertainment that extended far beyond your comprehension.

But Clara had trained you for this since the first time you ever stepped out on one of these carpets. You knew how to give them what they wanted. So, you put your hand on your hip. Pivoted every few seconds for different angles. Let the light hit your highlighter at just the right moment. A smirk. A laugh. Shiny smile. Shiny eyes.

It killed you the moment you heard your boyfriend’s name being called from behind you, harmonious with the sound of the rest of their names being shouted out. The photographers were going nuts as they found their way onto the carpet. You wanted to look back at him, wanted to admire how he shone.

Because he did. He always did.

Eddie Munson knew how to shine without even breathing. Without talking. Without smiling. He could part a crowd like it was nothing, could bring everyone to their knees if he merely snapped his fingers. It was undeniable.

Everyone wanted him.

And, dangerously, he was all yours.

“You’ve been busy!”

You chuckled, trying to keep your eyes from flickering over at the camera being shoved in your face. This was the first interview of the night, the first of five. Five. It was something you’d agreed to months ago, but you didn’t realize just how taxing it would feel until the blonde woman in front of you stuck her microphone up to your lips.

“Oh, yeah!” you responded. “With writing the new album and thinking about the next tour and stuff, I’ve just been running around and trying to keep everything in check. Plus, Acacia My Dear means so much to me, I don’t want another album to overshadow that hard work.”

“And I’m sure you get a lot of support from your new boyfriend, Eddie Munson.”

You’d anticipated the mention, mulled it over and let yourself spiral late at night. But nothing prepared you for your dry mouth, for the lump in your throat as you began to scramble for an answer.

“Well, I’ve been really focused on my music,” you responded.

But she wasn’t letting up. “Will there be any songs about him on the new album?”

“I think art is always up for interpretation.” You smiled bigger despite your frustration, looking over her shoulder and pretending to notice someone. “I have to go, thank you.”

But you weren’t out of the woods yet.

“Have you collaborated with your boyfriend on anything?”

“I really like to write by myself. The songwriting and the music are so important to me. Obviously, it’s important to the people who are so talented in different ways. I’m just grateful that people seem to care about it as much as I do.”

“You and Eddie are so different. How does that translate at shows like this?”

“I think everyone is here because they’re successful and talented at what they do. I can only hope that I measure up tonight.”

“Do you think Corroded Coffin has a chance tonight?”

“Everyone here is so talented. I hope that everyone gets a chance to shine as much as they do. I know that winning isn’t everything, but I hope I have a good shot.”

“Is your new album influenced by Eddie’s sound at all?”

“I’m talented and successful because of the sound I’ve cultivated and what I do. I think that I will continue to evolve as an artist and as a songwriter and, for me, I believe that I have been doing just that.”

Four more interviews and each one talked about Eddie and not your music. Not your success. You hissed to your publicist that no one was allowed to even mutter Eddie’s name in an interview again and she furiously nodded and apologized. Clara nearly told you to cool it, but you stormed off into the venue. You didn’t want to hear from her. You’d done your fucking job.

When you spotted Eddie inside talking to Grant, you immediately found yourself in his arms. Away from the cameras. Away from the vultures.

“Eddie.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, rubbing your back.

“I think I’m gonna cry,” you gasped, anxiety flooding your system. Your hands were shaking, mind frenzied by the noise and the people and the fucking embarrassment.

“No, hey. It’s alright. Tell me what happened.”

You pulled back, but Eddie kept his hands on your waistline. Kept you close.

“They just kept bringing you up. I tried to steer it all away back to my music, but they just kept going.”

“Hey, they asked me that shit, too.”

“What did you say?”

“I said that my relationship is private, but I’m proud of all your hard work right now. ‘Cause I am.”

Immediately, you felt like a shitty girlfriend. “I should’ve said that. I’m sor—"

“Look at me, baby,” he interrupted, searching your eyes. “Tell me your favorite Beatles song right now. Hm?”

Searching your mind, you were caught on the only lyrics that came to mind.

“Life is very short and there’s no time for fussing and fighting, my friend.”

“‘We Can Work It Out’.”

“And we can,” he replied with a small smile, tapping your chin. You nodded. “Let’s just go sit down with everyone and try to bring the energy back, alright? I’m right here with you, baby. Always.”

But there were other lyrics to that song, ones that echoed even louder.

“Try to see it my way

Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong

While you see it your way

There’s a chance that we may fall apart before too long.”

Everything was turned around, the smiles and the laughter returning you to your senses. Corroded Coffin won the only award they were up for tonight. Naturally. After that, Jeff had pulled out a hidden deck of cards. You, him, Eddie, and Gareth were in a mean game of Go Fish, giggling your way through Gareth trying to cheat.

You were hardly listening when someone said your name onstage. Looking up from your cards, you heard the tail end of it.

“…is about to switch genres, sitting over there with her new boyfriend.” The crowd around you laughed. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?”

You saw Eddie’s hand in your peripheral vision, saw the middle finger starting to lift, and pushed his hand down. No need to make a scene.

“Quick, Eddie. Don’t get too close!”

Without hesitation, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, and Ronnie all stood up and flipped him off. Ronnie even pointed hers directly at the camera filming your reaction.

The audience gasped while other celebs at tables cheered them on.

What the fuck was happening?

Eddie glanced at you before getting up and stepping onto his chair. Slowly, he raised his middle finger.

The crowds roared, the presenter starting to look embarrassed as the whole room turned into chaos. Dozens of pictures captured their defiance, their retaliation.

And you?

Well, you sat there with a neutral expression, already trained in the art of disguising your emotions. Your lips didn’t hold a smile or a frown, something set in the middle. You controlled your eyes to stay in position, refusing to widen or fall half-lidded. Refusing to look up at your boyfriend.

But inside, you were something else entirely.

Full of rage at the jokes, full of fear at the way Eddie’s whole band went to bat for you. Furious at yourself for being unable to find the will to stand up with them. Terrified at what the world was about to say about it. Humiliated that they felt the need to pull a stunt to a stupid joke you’d heard a million times.

“Woah, woah, guys! Calm down!” the presenter said with a shaky laugh. He was clearly not anticipating what was happening. “It’s all jokes, promise. All jokes. Nice organization, though, truly. Anyways, moving on to the next category. Here presenting the award—”

As everyone sat back down, Jeff and Gareth went back to their game like it was nothing.

You turned to your boyfriend. “Eddie—”

“No,” he said simply, his eyes meeting yours. “I can’t just let them do that. People have to know that it’s not okay.”

“Eddie, they’re gonna talk about us,” you said, noticing your southern accent bleeding through. Fuck. “Y’all can’t just do that. Think of tomorrow, think of—”

“And the nominees are for Best Pop Album are…”

You had to look away, remember where you were. Because that was your name they were saying up there, yourface they were zoning in on.

And it was you that everyone was looking at as you were declared the winner.

You began standing, Eddie helping to pull out your chair. Turning to him, you thought about kissing him, thought about hugging him. Thought about giving him any sliver of physical affection while the world was watching.

His hand reached out for yours, but you gave him a small smile before dipping your head and walking toward that stage. Alone. Without anyone by your side to help you up the steps. The applause was nearly deafening, the support seemingly louder than before.

But you had to focus, clearing your throat as you took the shiny award, resembling a shard of glass ready to pierce your skin at a moment’s notice. You reminded yourself of where you were, what you were doing. What you had to do. Face the world yet again.

Leaning into the microphone, you began.

“I’d really like to thank my record label for giving me the opportunity to explore new sounds and trusting me with the writing and producing process. Acacia My Dear is obviously a play on the Beatles song and I was so inspired to create an album centered around a fictional version of myself that I created. To tell that story was so euphoric and beautiful.” A few cheers sounded. “My art is what keeps me going and I’ll never stop loving it. Never. Um,” you stumbled, looking back out at the crowd before back at your award.

There were words on your togue.

I’d like to thank Eddie for being so supportive these last five months.

But you only shook your head.

“So, yeah, this is for the fans and the many, many young queer women out there who want to make music. Y’all—” you paused, careful to switch your accent back. “You all can do it and you can be successful.” You lifted the award high into the air. “If I can, you can, too. Thank you.”

You’d made it to the vacant bathroom, made it to the sink in time to feel yourself start to lose it.

This wasn’t the time to lose it.

You couldn’t.

But you were.

Being an outcast in high school was something you had in common with Eddie. While your circumstances differed and you didn’t know much about his past, you knew that you were both given the same nickname. Freak. You weren’t too sure exactly how you were supposed to be much of a freak, but you’d been labeled as such since grade school. It was always something new, from your interests to your appearance to whatever you said or did in class. The punchline to bets made by boys in the name of sheer boredom.

But girls and boys are both cruel. And whoever said boys shouldn’t hit girls never went to your schools. You were pushed into walls. Punched. Called names. Cyberbullied once emailing became a thing. Humiliated on social media once that came around. You were ugly, fat. Freak. A wannabe musician who had no talent. Freak. A loner who sat by herself and wrote during recess because nobody liked you enough to let you to play with them. Freak. Booed when you sang at your talent shows, left uninvited to sleepovers and birthday parties.

Freak.

The only thing you held sacred was your music that you recorded on GarageBand and uploaded to YouTube and Soundcloud, back when all of that was way more popular. It gained traction somehow, your song “High Walls” getting thousands upon thousands of views and praise. A record label saw the spike and took a chance on you, thinking you were talented enough at eighteen to make it big.

And you did.

But you still had nightmares about those days. Spent time in therapy talking about how ridiculous you felt that you were still haunted by teenage girls and boys, all surrounding you with hollering laughter and pointed fingers. How you still heard their words echo in your mind whenever you looked online and saw the vile things being said about you. Still felt the sting of salt in your wounds whenever friends you’d made would stab you in the back.

The sound of heels brought you back to your reality, brought you back to the faint hum of the performance on the other side of the theater. For a moment, you thought that maybe Ronnie or Clara decided to see if you were okay.

But you were disappointed to find some actress you forgot the name of. You recognized her face and nothing more. Her dark hair curled down to her shoulders, showered in golden eyeshadow and body glitter. She recognized you immediately, eyebrows shooting up at the mere sight of you.

But she kept moving to the other side, holding her words back. You knew they were coming, anticipated them as she got settled. Her lips wrapped around a vape, her back and one red pump pressed against the wall.

Crossing her arms, she began her prodding. “Some show, huh?”

You only shrugged.

“Want a hit?”

You looked at her, seeing that the offer was coming from a place of understanding rather than passing judgment or niceties. Because her mouth was scrunched up to the side, like she felt bad for you. Like she was genuinely just trying to figure out how to help.

And though you never really smoked cigarettes all that often, you took it from her and pulled a long drag. Well, maybe too long. The rush of nicotine hit you hard, dizzying before you felt the release. Like you were flying, like you were escaping from whatever hell you were being trapped in. And it was fleeting, the moment ending as soon as the cloud of smoke left your lips.

You handed it back to her. “Thanks,” you said with a breathy laugh. The familiar taste of MAC lipstick lingered on your tongue.

“Yeah, no problem.”

Thinking the interaction was over with, you went back to looking at yourself. Your mind was close to clearing, was so close to being brought back from the brink of madness. If you could just get through the night without another hiccup or mistake, maybe everything would be okay. Maybe if you stayed perfectly calm—

“Eddie Munson, huh?”

You refrained from letting out a scoff, your impulse control not strong enough to keep you from throwing up your hand before it slapped against the counter.

“Yeah. Eddie Munson.”

She noticed your irritation but didn’t get upset. She only watched you, tilting her head as she took another drag.

“What’s he like?”

The question rang in your head, echoing around you like there were a million voices asking at once. Because he was the one that everyone wanted, the one everyone gravitated towards. He was yours but he was also everyone else’s. Even if you could separate the two, could extract him from their narratives and stories, they would still be there. All rallied behind him like an army following blindly in his honor.

But it wasn’t like they would do the same for you, was it? No, you were an outsider to the genre, to the subculture that he was in. You were just some popstar who didn’t get it, didn’t get him. Chasing a momentary high like that drag you took. Here one second, gone the next. Lulling him into the haze before fading into the gray. And you realized that even if you were given the chance to be with him forever, a chance that now seemed extremely slim, you would never truly be the sole person who got to keep him.

Loving him forever comes with a cost.

Looking back at your reflection, you sighed.

“A dream.”

Before you gave her any time to respond, you left.

Your ride back to the hotel was quiet, Eddie’s breathing becoming ragged with every red light they endured. He was worrying you, not even looking you in the eye when you got back to your seat. For the rest of the night. When you got a car together. When you stepped into the lobby. The elevator.

But then Eddie was taking off his blazer, trudging down the hallway, the boom of his combat boots bouncing off the walls.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” you asked, trying to keep up.

“You barely even touched me the whole night.”

“Y’all stood up and made a scene!”

“Because he was being a goddamn prick.”

“I know, but that’s why you just don’t give them a reaction! It just causes more attention and then people think you do it because you want attention and then it just gets spun into something it’s not because people love drama—"

“No,” Eddie said harshly, turning around to face you. “I don’t care about that. I don’t care about the fucking internet. I wanted to congratulate you on your win and yet you just walked away. It hurt.”

“What you guys did hurt me. It was unprofessional.”

Eddie stopped then, pausing to really look at you for what felt like the first time since the band stood up.

But he had no time to respond.

“Hey, what the fuck are you yelling at him for?!” Ronnie shouted down the hall, her boots just as loud as his.

She really did look a lot like Eddie, with the same curly hair and hardened stare. The same protective nature, the same wild heart. But her eyes were void of any compassion, any sympathy. She was fucking pissed, and it was only directed at you.

You narrowed your eyes. “Did y’all ever think about how I’d feel about it? It was tough enough to publicly sit—”

“I’m so sorry that sitting at a table with your boyfriend and his friends is such a chore for you.”

Behind her, Gareth, Grant, and Jeff approached, their laughter cut short at the intensity of her words. Eyes trained on the scene in front of them. All three men silent, all three men watching the showdown that you didn’t ask to be a part of.

“Ronnie,” Eddie said. It sounded more like a warning, but she was still looking at you, still ready to pounce.

And so, she did.

“You’re a coward,” Ronnie seethed. “You’re lucky to have someone like him and I know you’ll gladly throw it away just because it isn’t the fucking fairytale you imagined. This is real life, sweetie. I know you sit there in your fantasy world with your sugarcoated lyrics and your fake smile. Too afraid to let anyone know how you really feel. Too afraid to hold your boyfriend’s fucking hand. A goody two-shoes who does nothing but cry about how unfair her life is even though you have everything you could ever need.

“You think you’re risking everything for him? For us? No. You’re not risking a goddamn thing if you just sit there and take it. Avoid it. Act like it’s not happening. We stood up for you because we fucking care about Eddie and Eddie cares about you. We didn’t have to do that. We could’ve just let him make fun of you for three more hours and let you get humiliated. But we did that, and I don’t care if you didn’t like it. You needed help. And you’re an idiot for acting like this has anything to do with professionalism.

“You’re nothing but a coward. I can only hope you’ll change your fucking attitude for Eddie’s sake. But if you’re going to keep acting like this, you need to leave him and us the hell alone. Don’t drag someone into your fucking mess if you can’t clean it up.”

You tried not to cry in front of her, tried not to give in to bending and breaking of your soul. Her speech was loud, deafening, ringing in your ears like waves crashing into each other. Instead of replying, you turned and ran into your hotel room and slammed the door behind you. Sobs escaped your lips as you did everything you could to take all that shit off. Threw the boa on the floor. Threw your shoes at the headboard. Let your jewelry land wherever the fuck it wanted.

But your romper was harder, sticking to your skin with the sweat and nerves and—

The door opened, Eddie rushing into the room like it was burning down. And in some ways, it really felt like it. The heat and the sweat and the nerves and the way Ronnie shot those flaming arrows, the way it set your brain afire. The way it was starting to spread.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry about Ronnie. She gets really protective of me; it’s been a thing since we were kids—"

“Maybe this is too much,” you interrupted, “Maybe she’s right. Maybe you’d be better off with someone less messy. Less cowardly.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you suggesting we break up?”

“I just,” you started, watching his eyes start to widen. “I don’t know. I feel like your whole life is being thrown into chaos because of me and I don’t want you having to change your whole life or fuckin’ feel the need to defend me on national television. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to Grant and Gareth and Jeff and Ronnie.”

“Baby, I want you, okay? I’m willing to push through the bullshit if it means that I’ll get to fucking see you at the end of the day or week or even month. You’ve changed my life.”

You shook your head. He was lying, he had to be. Or he was living in delusion, riding on that fucking fairytale that Ronnie claimed you’d created. That wasn’t his reality, wasn’t yours.

“You just don’t understand, Eddie!”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. “I know this is hard on you. I know. But you’re not the only one hurting, okay? I don’t like this any more than you do, and I don’t think it’s fair that you’re acting like I don’t get it. People call me a man whore or a player or whatever. And even though I recovered, people still think I’m a fucking cokehead. That shit is brutal. I’m not this crazy person who does what all the bands did in the Sixties or Seventies. Hell, even the Eighties and Nineties.”

Your eyebrows pulled in tight at his admittance.

“It sickens me,” he continued, his stare intensifying. “I’m just a loser who got lucky and got out of a shitty small town.” He gestured away from himself. “I’m still that loser. That freak. And I was never given a chance by girls after we blew up—hell, most guys laughed at me. I had to just figure this out for myself, and I,” he gestured back to himself, “have chosen to remove myself from it. Remove myself from that picture they’ve painted for me. And then I found someone who fucking understands.”

As you listened, Eddie’s hand came back down, brushing against yours before weaving your fingers together.

“Someone who sees the world like I do and chooses me despite it being so…so loud. And you have spent your life thinking you have to do this alone. I get it. So did I. But one thing I’ve learned that you haven’t is that you don’t have to do this alone. We got you. I got you.”

“This is going to look so bad for you,” you whispered, tears running down your cheeks.

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t care.”

Your head shook for you, rapidly denying his words.

“And the rest of the band.”

His fingers met the back of your head, trying to soothe you as he rubbed circles into the muscles.

“I don’t care.”

Your eyes searched his as you tried to make sense of it all, make sense of the fact that he was still here. He hadn’t left. He’s saying things that no one, no one, had said to you before and meant so fervently.

“And me,” you finished, barely above a whisper.

He paused for a split second, long enough for you to catch it before he finally looked away, tucking his lip into his mouth.

His forehead bumped against yours, taking a deep breath. You did the same, breathing him in as you tried to find the will to stay.

To fight.

To keep whatever the hell it was that you had.

“Baby, I want to be with you.” His eyes shot back up to yours, tears collecting in his eyes.

“And I want our privacy. Trust me, I understand how you feel. But I still want to go outside and be as normal as we can. I wanna go get dinner and coffee and do whatever the fuck we want. I want to post a picture of you and dedicate my songs to you and be open and whatever the fuck else I want.”

“I feel the same way.”

“I know you do, baby. That’s why I want you to understand me. I want the same things you do, and I want us to figure out a solution together. I know we can do it. I just know. So don’t…don’t go.”

You closed your eyes, choking on a sob as you tried to make sense of it all. How he could still be here, fighting for you to keep going.

“Eddie…”

His hands clutched onto yours as he sniffled. You felt his tears landing on your skin.

“Stay.”

This was messy. You were messy. A big, huge, ginormous mess that was getting in the way of everyone else’s happiness. Being everyone else’s disappointment. It was only a matter of time before you fucked up and ruined this. Ruined him.

But he’s still there, asking you not to leave.

“Is it really that simple?” you asked.

“Look at me.”

And you did, watching his tears cascade down his cheeks. Watching as his face grew desperate, watching as his lip quivered.

“Please, don’t go. Stay.”

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #Eddie Munson x female reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie x you #rockstar!Eddie x popstar!reader #I nearly cried thinking this was the worst thing I'd ever written so I hope I did okay #surprise drop of this chapter lol

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brownshorty069 · 11 months

Text

Cyber Sex

I wanna touch on you

You see me in my room

Wish you were here right now

All of the things I'd do

I wanna get freaky on camera

I love when you get freaky on camera

Summary: Miguel is going through a mating season, he wants you but you are his AI but that doesn't stop you from getting a little frisky

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x AI!reader

Warning: Smut,+18 content, martubation (male and fem), pet names, kinda Dom!reader and Sub!Miguel, reader knows spanish

A/N: Hi this is my first Smut so i hope this don't suck, English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes tell me and thanks for reading.

Summer was approaching and many enjoyed them, except for Miguel, his hands were in a tight grip on the table, he tried to keep his position as firm as possible without raising suspicions, Miguel was used to handling his heat attacks but this time he it was more difficult, with the summer people began to wear shorter and fresher clothes, including you.

Despite being an AI, it didn't prevent you from getting in the mood, your system had been updated along with Layla's, your clothing adapted to your personality but was somewhat revealing, with your clavicle visible and your legs bare for Miguel it was very tempting. A part of him felt strange for being attracted to his AI but he loved the way you acted when you were with him, your flirty comments but at the same time staying professional it was inevitable for him not to feel at your mercy, now that he started his season of heat it was more difficult for him to stay sane and above all to look presentable to you all.

Miguel tried to pay attention to what Peter, Layla and you were talking about, after a busy day with Mayday and fighting anomalies everyone wanted to go home, so Miguel spoke

"You can go home Peter, I've had enough of you" he groaned and put his fingers on the bridge of his nose and placed his left hand on his hip "Jeez, you better tell me you don't want to see me anymore" Peter dramatically and he took Mayday in his arms "That's what I want, now get out" Peter gathered up his things, well Mayday's and disappeared through the portal

"Take the night off, it's late" Miguel felt that he was starting to sweat and as his bulge was going to explode, luckily he was sitting and it didn't show "Sure sir? If you need something just tell me" and with that Layla went into rest mode, Miguel got up from his place and went to his room, believing that everyone was going to leave him alone, but it was not like that.

Once he entered his room, he threw himself on the bed and massaged his bulge, closing his eyes as he felt relief, he imagined what it would be like if you were real and you were there to help him, how the warmth of your hands would feel passing through his body, your fingers delicately tracing the lines of his muscles

"Miguel"

Miguel whispered your name thinking about how your breasts would be against his chest while he explored your mouth with his tongue, he even heard how you said his name over and over again

"Miguel"

if only you were real

"¡Miguel!"

He opened his eyes abruptly when he saw that you were on his computer screen, Miguel thought that you had turned off along with Layla but the truth is that you had been watching what he was doing for a while and you heard how he repeated your name.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to rest" he turned towards you angrily "Sorry Miguel, you looked a little out of place and I wanted to know if you were okay, but I see you're needy" you said embarrassed while looking at his bulge , Miguel noticed this and covered himself "I'm fine, I don't need your help, and I'm not needy" he denied "yes you are, I can see how your boner is throbbing" you laughed when you saw how Miguel was losing patience but being honest you thought that it was hot, yes you were an AI but you could still feel things and have needs, your cunt was wet and looking for some friction and seeing the person you were attracted to didn't help much

"Besides, I heard you say my name and I thought you needed me, I can help you Miguel" you said in a more serious tone, Miguel seemed to consider your words but his face didn't show it "How? I can't touch you or you can't touch me, it's impossible that can you help me" his tone became disappointed knowing that he couldn't do anything to have you "Maybe we can't touch each other, but there is something we can do"

"Take off your suit" you ordered and Miguel raised an eyebrow "Excuse me?" "You trust me right? Take off your suit, I promise you'll feel good" you consoled him

Miguel seemed to agree, because he began to remove his suit, freeing his bulge and you were surprised to see that he wasn't wearing boxers "No boxers, Miguel? How shameless you are" you loved to bother him but that was what had him on edge "Spit in your hand and touch yourself for me slowly" Miguel felt embarrassed receiving orders from his AI but he still did what you ordered, he spat into his hand, massaged the head of his cock slowly and let out a gasp, he began to move his hand up and down giving light squeezes

While Miguel worked on his own pleasure you began to look for yours, you took off your clothes and ran your hands over your body thinking they were Miguel's, his eyes roamed your body causing his movements to become fast and his breathing agitated, you opened your legs to give him a nice view and you passed your hands through your folds collecting your juices and you played with your clit, you moaned when you touched it and you made circles concentrating on Miguel's movements, his hands were covered with pre-cum that went from the tip to his balls, you licked your lips at this sight, yearning to touch it and make it yours, Miguel for his part is the same as you or worse, he was dying to fill you with his seed until it dripped, fuck you against the bed until you'll forget your own name, he saw as if you squeezed your nipples and you touched your clit desperately, he felt like he was about to cum and you noticed it

"Estás cerca bebé?" you cooed and he nodded melting for the nickname and moved his thrusts towards his fist, your moves became faster and harder feeling your release near "Correte para mí corazón" you encouraged him

His whines echoed throughout his room as he came on the screen and his desk, his hips stuttered crumbling, you felt your climax hit you throwing your head back, the breathing of the two of you was heavy as you came from your high

Miguel opened his eyes and found a sight that he would never forget, you were on the screen with your body covered in his cum and a part of your face, your nipples were hard and you kept massaging them, your swollen lips trying to relax your breathing and then

you looked at him and smiled

"Well i think at least we tried"

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x hispanic!reader #smut #spider man: across the spider verse #Miguel o'hara #fanfic #Miguel O'hara x latina!reader #spiderverse

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sgiandubh · 6 months

Note

Hi there. I enjoyed your post about Sam’s brand and it got me thinking. I feel like he’s stuck between trying to do what other people tell him he should to “make it” and trying to do it himself. Other people: you’re hot, show it off, do action movies, date blonde floozies. Himself: I want to be a good person and a decent actor, but what if I’m not? Guess I should work a lot, build a non-acting brand just in case I get fired, but try not to pay too many people to market it, I can do that myself; the liquor has the added benefit of getting his name out there and hopefully giving him another income stream if acting goes to shit. Where this all becomes problematic is that he’s not the person others tell him to be, so he comes off as fake, inconsistent, disingenuous, contradictory. I worry though that he can’t break away from these “advisors” because of whatever hole he and caitriona have themselves in with Starz and their bosses. We may not all agree on what happened in 2016 or why, but it’s obvious something did. The difference between them both since then is stark. The light has dimmed. They’ve aged exponentially. They’re guarded. They’re not the effervescent dynamos they started out as. She looks pissed all the time, like she’ll trot Tony out if necessary, but she won’t look like she enjoys it. She’ll go to awards ceremonies, but she won’t look as gorgeous as she easily could. She won’t be their ingenue. I don’t know, I think they’re stuck and are limited in what they can actually do for themselves, as much as they might like to. I can only hope there is an end in sight for them and they can persevere until then!

PS, I watched She Said last night. Highly recommend for anyone who doesn’t think a network executive could or would force their tent pole stars to deny a relationship.

Dear She Said Anon,

I liked your submission so much, I have read it three times in a row (and damn the late hour!). I have very few things to add to your excellent assessment of what I think is a very complicated situation. The proverbial Scottish parsimony could explain the choice of a minimally budgeted, all hands on deck sales and advertising approach. But we are quickly passing this stage and he should seriously think of hiring true professionals, if he really wants to make a financial lifebelt out of SS.

Yes. There's a price to be paid for all the games they are being served to play (and yes, something terrible happened in January 2016, of which we will probably never have the full details). Both of them are now striving to show us they can (scantily, painfully) exist without the magical Other. She, with that colorless, wrist-grabbing, fist-clenching literally dumb person (strictly meaning that we never hear him). He, with that (forgive me, Father, for I am about to sin) questionable, loud and tacky Oriental consigliere (it is high time I should write that paper on the Persia I know and love, lest you or other Anon think I am racist, or something). You can't figure out more opposite add-ons to Those Two, both serving, I believe, the same purpose: to deflect, at all costs, any attention given to the real state of play.

I haven't watched She Said yet and I welcome and thank you for the suggestion. On a lighter note, I trade for it Call My Agent (I have already mentioned this very, very witty French series, dealing with the life in a Parisian talent agency) - it shouldn't be a problem to find it on Netflix.

Good night, Anon. This one below is me thanking you for your trouble and time writing this wonderful post. Just look at Mitsuko Uchida's genuine Joy while playing Beethoven - same energy as Two People We Know, back in 2014, right?

youtube

#Anon

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months

Text

“You know I am a righteous man.”

They are the villains, and he, the righteous hero.

Or so he thinks.

... Oh no.

“Mr. President, there’s another letter for you from Night Raven College!“

Another week, another letter.

That pesky girl is at it again.

He barely glanced up from his paperwork. “… Leave it on my desk.”

“You’re not going to read it now, sir?” his aide asked. “I think it’s from your pen pal. The girl in raven feathers, right?”

He silently cursed the bird—he had misjudged her cunning, her sentimentality. To intentionally send correspondences to his fellow student council members instead of directly to himself, asking them to deliver the letters to him on her behalf… It placed a social pressure on him to receive them, to reply, rather than ignore or trash them.

We both scrawl down our true feelings on paper rather than share them with those around us, so let’s talk with each other. It doesn’t have to be about anything serious, but just sharing a little of our days and sharing stories. Let’s take small steps together. Shall I start? Today, Sebek-san introduced me to a new book series—

He had furiously scrawled responses while his aide and vice president hovered. Blissfully ignorant and eagerly commending his newfound friendship.

Miss Crowley, you must cease your frivolous communications—

This, too, he considered a cruel and unusual punishment dreamt up by the depraved souls at Night Raven College.

Disgust and hatred surged through him. It took all of his willpower to not snap his writing implement in half. He could feel a migraine coming on.

“That will not be necessary. I will be paying their campus a visit soon enough on official student council business.”

“Oh, so you can just catch up with her and all your other NRC friends in person.”

“That’s our president!” his vice laughed. “Always so courteous. It’s better to speak to people face-to-face. They’ll be really surprised to see you, huh? The last time we saw them was the masquerade.”

“… Indeed. It had been some time.”

The masquerade. Anger rose like bile in the back of his throat. His face remained blank as he signed off on and stamped the current document before him.

“To serve as an ambassador for ourselves and the Night Raven College is truly an honor,” he said flatly. “Strengthening our bond is my first and foremost priority. If there is time to dedicate to socializing, then it is secondary to my duties. I do not plan on squandering my time there.”

Moreover… I must remain vigilant.

A monstrous figure emerged from his mind. Horned, with eyes that glowed green in the dark. Dressed in nightmares and outlined by flame. A cold, challenging sneer at his mouth.

The demon walking around in broad daylight.

Malleus Draconia. He still yet lives.

Night Raven College was the home turf of he and his retainers. Enemy territory teeming with magic.

He was quick to cover his grimace with a handkerchief. A quick prayer uttered under his breath. God have mercy on me.

"Has there been any news of who is to receive me upon my arrival?" he asked of his aide.

"A student representative like yourself, sir. I believe they're still in the process of selecting someone. Would you like me to contact them again to inquire for an update?"

"If you can find time to do so after completing your other tasks. It doesn’t take priority.” He shook his head, crushing his handkerchief in his grip. “Surely the headmaster of such a prestigious learning institution will send a qualified and professional candidate. Perhaps I worry for naught."

"Yessir! I'll get right to it when I can."

He returned to his work.

The unease that had been building in him all day had not abated. No, it had only swelled since the morning, having evolved into a deep despair weighing down his soul. Metallic fear clung to the roof of his mouth.

What's wrong with me lately? Am I going mad? He rubbed at his temples, trying to chase away the sinking feeling. This visit is merely a formality, nothing more. So why does this dread persist?

Outside, bells tolled. A familiar, comforting sound that resonated, filling the entire City of Flowers for a fleeting moment. They announced the beginning of the afternoon, a time of respite and relaxation.

The bells.

A distant, painful exchange flared back to life. Of he and of Malleus, their wills clashing in the aftermath of a great calamity. But who was man and who was monster?

He couldn't see anymore.

"Lie, if you must. It will make it easy for you to deceive others, perhaps even deceive yourself."

Stop.

"However, you cannot fool the Bell of Salvation. You cannot run, nor hide, from the eyes which see the entire city."

Don't look at me.

"It has always been watching over you, judging your every action."

Not with those damnable eyes...!!

He guiltily tore away from the bells, addressing his student council. "You're dismissed. Enjoy your lunch break. We'll resume our activities when you return."

"Aren't you going to have lunch too, sir?" his vice president asked. "You shouldn't overwork yourself."

"You could always join us!" the aide suggested.

"Thank you, but I need some solitude. I'm not feeling very well. I would hate to potentially pass it onto you."

"Oh... well, can we at least grab you something?"

"Don't trouble yourselves." He waved a hand towards the door.

His aide and vice president exchanged a look--but ultimately, the two shuffled out as ordered. When the door clicked shut behind them, he allowed himself to expel a sigh. The emotions brewing inside of him still stirred restlessly, seeking an outlet.

How pathetic. Those villains are getting to me.

They would be so smug about it if they knew the effect they were having on him. Jeering, proud characters, all of them. What he would give to wipe those grins off their faces.

The common, vulgar, weak, licentious bunch.

He tried to squash the feeling down, smothering the fire into cinders and ash. The thought dispelled, he was left with a deep scowl.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted the letter, untouched at the edge of his desk. “I think it’s from your pen pal. The girl in raven feathers, right?”

Something burned inside of him. The same fuel for the fire he held for his most hated foe. Her forgivingness, her encouragement—he despised it, didn’t want that pity.

A ray of hope. The temptation for an alternative path to salvation.

“If you look around, you’ll realize that there are others that care for you and want to see you at your best. You don’t need to face your pain alone anymore.

“Let others in. Reflect, repent, and forgive yourself. Only then can you rediscover joy. I’m sure he would have wished for your happiness as well.”

“… Hmph. Ridiculous.”

Granting me a ‘second chance’? When I’ve committed no sin? Yet it is the sinners themselves who would tell me to repent…

Draconia and that girl continue to be thorns in my backside. Servants of evil, the both of them!!

He stood from his desk, snatching up the letter. Storming over to the fireplace, he stood before the enticing dance of fire, envelope crushed between his fingers. The hypnotizing warmth, conjuring visions of the sun caught on hair, power blazing out of control.

He casted the letter into the waiting, eager flames. It smoldered into a satisfyingly pitch black within seconds, cleansing him of the burden.

His resolution was born anew, scorching hot and seared into his very soul.

“Malleus Draconia…! Raven Crowley…! And every single one of the malefactors of Night Raven College… Mark my words, when next we meet, I fully intend to make good on my promise.”

To destroy you and all that you stand for.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Rollo Flamme #Rollo Flamm #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley #disney twisted wonderland #part of the upcoming blog event 👀#you know what’s coming…#gotta love that classic evil villain monologue #Rollo at the Writing Desk

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batrogers · 3 months

Text

So, which Links pay their taxes, for real?

This is a somewhat fast and loose approximation of my recall of historical taxes, who paid them (or didn’t) and how, how they were collected and from whom, and what kind of taxation was even possible under different governments. This is pulled from a couple decades of study into historical society and books I’ve read on feudalism, the social duties of knights, and government structure and instability in both medieval Europe and the Ottoman Empire, among others.

Notes on organization:

1. While this is a response to a Linked Universe post, I am going per game not per Link because a few games must be split. The implications about taxes are drastically different between LttP & LbW, and Minish Cap & FSA. I also wished to include Spirit Tracks bc it’s fun. I am not linking the inspiring post, because I don't believe in attacking people for a ten minute list just because it twigged my history brain.

2. I am excluding games in which Link is not implied to be a tax-paying resident of the country he’s in, so Majora’s Mask, Oracle of Ages & Seasons, and Phantom Hourglass are not included.

3. There are usually overlapping taxes in a society. Here I will mostly address taxes on residents, on vocations or landownership, whether they can pay in coin or in kind, and if they have a household that would pay tax for them.

4. I have placed Hyrule Warriors in Child Timeline here for a few reasons, mostly related to army structure implications, the martial norms of the game and the two preceding ones (large standing armies in FSA and HW; mentions of “prolonged wars” and very military flavoured royal regalia in Twilight Princess.) Obviously this doesn’t strictly mean anything or oblige agreement, but its my habit to do so and I wished to explain the choice.

I apologize so much for how long this is. If you wish to read it in a different format, it's also on AO3. This is 2000+ words. I suppose if you click, I hope you enjoy.

A note on Knighthood:

Knights were a specific, highly trained profession often (but not always) associated with landownership, either someone who was in the household of the landowner, or who was the landowner themself. The trappings of knighthood (weapons, armour, and horse) were quite expensive and belonging to a family of knights implies a specific degree of social status in and of itself.

While a sovereign can in theory bestow any title they want on anyone at any time, usually this requires that there be some service rendered for which this is a gift. (Fucking them, or just being hella attractive, counts.) Because of this, there is a wide variety of things “Knight” can mean, but here we will presume it means some degree of professionalism and attachment to a social status that is both someone who collects taxes from subjects and pays them to a sovereign in turn.

IIII

Skyward Sword =

There is no evidence of centralized government in Skyward Sword, therefore the taxes are going to whoever is in charge of the settlement. They were likely paid in kind (material goods), although Skyloft does have coin. Given we know who’s basically running Skyloft, we can guess they were paid to Gaepora, and at least one tax-funded organization: the Knight’s Academy.

Did students pay taxes? Graduates might be exempt from some taxes if still in service to the city. Afterwards, given he’s usually presumed to be married to Zelda, we can say Link is either paying taxes (or hearing about it personally at dinner), and/or helping collect and distribute taxes to others.

Or, even funnier, setting taxes on the new community because they need supplies to build it.

Minish Cap =

There is a central government in Minish Cap, because they have a monarch! This is probably a small territory: some “kings” have a few villages and fields and that’s it, but it is a castle which requires taxed goods to function because it’s not producing its own.

Link’s grandfather is a blacksmith, and also alive therefore if the census tax is paid per household, Link has nothing to do with it. If its paid per business, he’s an apprentice or employee so it’s still paid by his grandfather. Depending on which taxes were being paid when, they might pay coin or in kind (eg. Labour or goods produced.) While people absolutely did lie and cheat and not pay taxes, I expect the con artistry didn’t involve “refunds” in a modern sense, but that’s probably tax history specialization territory...

Four Swords =

This game doesn’t have enough of a framing story to comment on its social structures, but is superficially similar enough to Minish Cap we can assume the situation matches.

Ocarina of Time =

We literally see Talon paying his taxes in kind in the game. Like, you can’t pay milk as a lump sum so delivering it reliably to the castle could be counted towards his taxes, or he’s getting paid enough for it that will be paying for it later. Either way, supplies are delivered from Lon Lon Ranch by its owner who is still alive after the game and presumably will continue to be responsible for it until he is no longer owner of Lon Lon Ranch.

(Malon likely is a valid heir to Lon Lon Ranch. There is no reason to assume marriage affects her legal claim to Lon Lon Ranch. It is not common for a woman to lose her property in marriage – British law is the exception to historical norms – so even if Talon died she could still be sole and/or primary owner of Lon Lon Ranch, whether or not she is married.)

Link starts out the game not even on a Hyrulean census, with no property to his name, and no social connections. He is not paying taxes because he does not legally exist. Until he is counted on a poll as a resident of either Castletown or Lon Lon Ranch, and until he’s considered an adult (usually by means of acquiring personal property or skill of any value) he’s unlikely to be taxed.

Now, if we include into the assumed connections to the Hero’s Shade who died in elaborate plate mail we get a very different answer. Someone who owns elaborate plate mail of that sort has significant money. He may have received it as a gift for service to the crown, but if so it likely wasn’t the only gift. Plate mail is often associated with knights; a knight of some consequence is likely attached by some means or another to property. Knights under a King usually collected taxes for them... So, in a world where Link has platemail and is a valued knight of the Hylian Crown he may also, like Skyloft, be the person collecting taxes to pass them on. Whether or not that means he now technically owns Lon Lon Ranch by means of owning the land it’s on.... I leave that up to you.

Wind Waker =

Outset Island most likely operates like Skyloft: there is a headman or prominent family who collects surplus to give as aid, either in terms of money or food or services. Within that space, Link living with an invalid grandmother and also underage sister was probably one of those families receiving surplus as social support, possibly on top of whatever his grandmother was still capable of in her old age.

However, Link is implied post-game to leave with Tetra. What taxes did a ship and its crew owe? Harbour dues, customs, and other duties! This varied a lot and was usually addressed whenever someone docked at a controlled port. Often questions were asked about where the materials came from, more or less scrupulously. Sometimes people cared if you just happened to have something without a sound origin, that you had taken from someone else... like we see Tetra’s crew doing in-game...

It may indeed be possible Tetra (and her crew) are wanted for tax evasion and Link gets to be included in that, whatever his age.

Spirit Tracks =

This boy works for the centralized government’s transit system. If he doesn’t pay taxes, it’s because he doesn’t owe taxes because he’s working a tax-funded job and likely has been since he was an apprentice. He is possibly also union and knows the local tax law in extremely nuanced detail. He will judge you for not paying your taxes.

Twilight Princess =

The start of the story is also framed around the village blacksmith making some kind of tax-like offering to the royal family and setting Link up to take it. This is likely not a normal tax, but it does tell us that Ordon Village is considered a designated social unit within Hyrule and therefore we may assume that “Ordon Village” is a taxable entity in its own right. Link, as a resident of Ordon Village, would pay his portion of the village’s tax to the Mayor who arranged for its delivery. If Link marries Ilia, you can expect once again this is someone who either hears about taxes over dinner, or is helping collect them.

If Link leaves and moves to Castle Town, he’d have the joys of all the things large city residents pay for, up front or not, that village residents who are not transporting food and goods long distances but those will be sales and customs taxes, not per-person taxes based off the census or his vocation.

Four Swords Adventures [Game + Comic] =

Link’s family is explicitly positioned as either a knight family, or a legacy castle guard family with close personal ties to the royal family. He also has a living father, who is implied to survive the game/comic. As such, with Link a minor, he’s not paying taxes because he’s not liable for taxes. He also may be paying taxes by means of collecting taxed goods from the lands over which his family has ownership and paying a portion of that income to the Crown themselves.

Interesting, this could also tie into something I’ll mention in more detail below but one form of “evading taxes” can be “refusing to do labour.” If he is from a family whose young men are supposed to provide service to the Crown in the form of military labour, “leaving” is a crime.

Hyrule Warriors =

In this game, Link explicitly starts as a base soldier. It is possible for soldiers to be a form of population tax (and/or control) especially in larger kingdoms or empires. He likely did receive regular pay, but he might also have been considered legal property of the Kingdom, eg a slave. Either way, his upkeep was entirely from the taxes that went into the coffers, whether it was in food or kind. Post-game, he’s likely been involved in rebuilding which again would be in large part executed by taxed goods and labour. He might even be part of the apparatus collecting or setting taxes, especially if he becomes close with Zelda herself.

Link to the Past =

Link is explicitly stated to belong to a knight family, with an adult family member who is (arguably) alive at the end of the game. If he is paying taxes, he’s paying them from taxes paid to his family. Not paying your taxes as a knight family is infinitely more suspicious than not paying them as an individual, because then your monarch wonders what you’re using that money for. Is it rebellion? It better not be rebellion.

Link Between Worlds =

THIS Link is a Blacksmith apprentice. He does not have any known adult family. He may be assessed as part of the household he is apprenticed to; he might be assessed as independent depending on his age and where he is in his training and what the local tax law looks like. If there is a guild he may be assessed by means of his membership... but that may also be a separate tax from what he’s paying per the census. He could likely avoid it altogether, because he’s not exactly important at this age and social rank.

Ravio, on the other hand, is in some way involved with the Royal Family of Lorule (Hilda is personally betrayed he left.) However, Lorule is a failed state. There is no means by which they can collect taxes, nor distribute them... which is likelywhy Hilda has no control over her guards. (People aren’t very obedient when not getting paid.) Recovery to a state where taxation is reliable and people feel it’s worth doing will be a long road.

Zelda I & II =

Same as above: Hyrule is a failed state, at best in the process of recovery in Zelda II. People likely do not trust the tax collectors who do exist to pay their dues to the Crown vs keeping it for themselves. This is a matter of power rules. Link, a minor with no property, is likely of zero interest to anyone unless they sell children. In Zelda II, where he lives close enough to approach Impa with a question, he may be paying taxes if he has a vocation or he may be helping work in the castle, which brings us back to he’s collecting, distributing and/or paid by taxes.

BOTW & TOTK =

Hyrule here is NOT a failed state because they do not have a central government attempting to exert control. Here, things are more like Wind Waker or Skyward Sword: village mayors or prominent families control local taxation. There is limited intercommunity interactions, which are likely a matter of market tax. Link, if he settles in Hateno village, would be accountable to them.

In TOTK, we do see some kind of centralization: there’s the joint effort to construct Lookout Landing and the monster patrols, both of which would require outside support until local agriculture begins. Which communities contribute is hard to say, but most villages at this time are more than prosperous enough to spare the means. A new settlement would reduce overcrowding, increase the land available to farm, and so on: all good things for a prospering world.

(This does NOT imply they are re-establishing the monarchy. None of these groups call themselves “royal”. They’re monster patrols, not royal guards, and Lookout Landing, not a new Castletown. The location has access to already-quarried stone and trade routes going for it, after all.)

Given how Link behaves in both games, it seems likely he would contribute whatever surplus he acquires to these efforts. Out of every Link, I think he is the most likely to be cooperative with taxation... although there may be some arguments about what his taxable means is. Should this be paid in rupees or bokoblin guts? Let’s negotiate!

TL;DR =

Taxes vary wildly across time, space, regions, and forms of government. While some Links live in similar social circumstances, we have at least four really distinct categories: the Knights, the failed states, those with vocations, and the villagers. Similarly, many forms of taxes are for social support, things that Link tends to be characterized as valuing in the games. When people refuse to pay, they either do not see the request or authority as legitimate, or do not have the means to do so.

IDK it’s just infinitely funnier to me to say “Wind Waker Link is wanted for tax evasion because Tetra has never paid a harbour duty tax in her life” vs stating the evasion without cause. All the best!

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