#I'm seriously such a slow writer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatdeadaquarius · 6 months

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About your language brainrot. I see your "Reader's writing can't match tyvat's long and flowery writing" and bring you "Tyvat isn't used to books over 50 pages long so a short story to the Reader is a whole dictionary to tyvat readers".

Seriously, have you seen how thin the books are? They don't wrote novels, they write short chapters formatted in the way really old stories are. As in, summarizing all the events down into one smooth story then adding a few quotes. Fanfiction writers are insane. They will willingly sit down and write hundreds of words at a time. To them, a proper modern day story of maybe, oh 10k words or so, would probably be like the Oddessy itself.

If we were to combine the two headcanons. It would end up as many historians being intimidated by this insanely long written scripture in the language of the forgotten.

I'm going to take this a step further and say that if the creator asked some people to proofread their things, it would establish a hiarchy of who is able to actually finish the book the creator read and who isn't.

NOW THIS, THIS IS MY FUCKING JAMMMM

I'm so sorry this is so old!! u probably all know this by this point that I've really slowed down as the year has gone on, but I graduated university and then got my first job so its been pretty crazy!

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: dash of all the book/nerds of Genshin, heavy on Sumeru?

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Cussing, 16+ Mature Audiences, Spoliers for Sumeru Archon Quests/Scaramouche, & Trigger Warnings: mention of shipping/characters shipping themselves with you.

Comment if any missed, please.

☆

FULL STOP.

THE AKADEMIYA, FONTAINE RESEARCH INSTITUTE, HAVE BEEN WAITTTINNGGGG ON YOUR ASS LMAO

You fall from the fucking sky like a 5 star, or pop out of the Irminsul or whatever

and immediately are mobbed by scholars. LMAO jkjk (not really, bc that's what it’d feel like)

can you even imagine the dread older stories(”the classics” to them), that was instilled in the poor students around Teyvat??

id like to think ur works are the most preserved over the thousands of years of Teyvat archeologists excavating them, in comparison to other authors (teyvat just likes you more, suck it William Shakespeare)

also, bc I cant resist language differences/world building I'm sorryyyy 😭 😭

the vocab of Genshin lang vs. ours, has significantly less vocabulary like their actual dictionary is 1/3 the size of ours type of energy

(Omfg all ur fanfics being considered like insanely long realistic romantic classics or tragedies like Jane Austen-level, and only the richest and biggest play companies put on plays about ur stories bc the script goes on for hours)

(ur plays only get put on for rlly big events bc of this, like Lantern Rite or like a Summer/Winter festival/your birthday, which is, yes, an international holiday)

dude the sheer power move of anything you’ve written being essentially “Journey of the West” to them, like Damnnn.

endless like adaptations, plays, Teyvat-short stories condensing it, (THEIR OWN FANFICTION ABOUT UR STORIES)

the power is, in fact, going to your head every time another scholar both deflates at how long ur stuff is, but also lights up bc they get to read it

speaking of scholars… you know who snatched you up first. you know. you don’t even need to read the next line.

Alhaitham.

sneaky bastard he is, absolutely manipulated, mansplained (and manwhored bc he knows he’s handsome, cheeky little shit) his way into getting you to sit down with him and interview you about both translating other classics, your own, giving your own analysis of others works and ur own, and picking ur brain apart of how/why you wrote urs, etc. its fucking endless,

Kaveh had to come rescue you bc u were starving to death after getting stuck with the Haravatat scholar in his office for nearly 7 hours of interrogation discussion about literature

and Alhaitham wasn't even nearly done, he’d informed you as you left that he already had another appointment for later conversation scheduled (how?? you don't even know ur own schedule??? you have a schedule???) and was looking forward to more of your “creative and enlightening input” :)))

(you’re never going to escape him, not even Nahida herself can save you from his stubborn ass)

On another note, Xingqiu is quaking when you agree to autograph his copy of your stories (of which he has all hard covers of the first edition translations)

Zhongli/Rex Lapis is known for having a near-lifelong passion for searching for your works specifically, and learning how to translate them better into Teyvatian vernacular

like the same way he can absolutely speak on Rex Lapis facts/rocks/adepti info, is the same confidence he speaks about knowing ur work lol

(yes he did also ask for several autographs and another sit-down talk about the works, tho a lot more sneaky then Alhaitham bc he just casually gets u guys into it during dinner)

Barbatos/Venti has written some of the most famous songs based on your stuff, he has his favorites too,

but he always claims the best songs are any that have been written in the story, like either when a character sings something, or there are like quotes from songs ur fanfics are based on lol

(he also demanded to hear what they actually sound like from you, yes, you have to sing them for him lol)

Venti also can surprisingly drunkenly ramble the entirety of at least one of ur stories, like, word for word lmao

(Diluc gave in and did give him a drink on the house for that one, just once, Venti doesn’t remember it lol)

(I forgot to mention, u guys still speak the same language, just like, different versions of it)

ur works being one of the few things all the Archons can freely talk about with each other, like it’s neutral ground bc they’re all fangirling about it lmao

Furina and Neuvillette have had like,, fierce debates over the decades about character dynamics and the general drama of ur stories, they’ve gotten into it enough they’ve stopped talking to each other for a couple days a few times lol

Albedo, Sucrose, Kokomi, Yae Miko, Ei, Raiden, have read every single work they’re gotten their hands on in Teyvat (it took them like a literal year or longer)

Albedo drew you fanart for every single story, bc he’s hyperfixated on everything related to you ngl,

Kokomi had commissioned smaller pocket versions of ur works (which later got popular thanks to Yae Miko) both the OG and the Teyvat shortened versions

THE HARBINGERS ARE THE MOST DOWN BAD LMAO

Childe has literally tried to recreate battle scenes from ur works lmao

and gets especially riled up about fighting someone who resembles any characters from them (esp villains, what a cutie)

You cannot fathom the amount of research throughout Teyvat that has been secretly or indirectly funded by Pantalone/Tsaritsa

from the experts to analyze them, to funding play companies to act them out, to actually excavating places to get more of ur stuff unearthed

(the Harbingers absolutely are the first group of people that got to read several of ur stories first bc of this, like the world’s most exclusive secret book club lol)

Scaramouche used to clown on Childe all the time about how he was too impatient to even “sit down and read the King’s classics”, and he was downright insufferable when he found out about Tartaglia’s habit of recreating battle scenes/that being what motivated him to fight sometimes lol

that being said, Wanderer surprisingly never forgot ur stories.

Even when his memories were wiped for a bit, he found comfort in these fantastical epics still sticking around, even when his old names did not

(he mayyyy or mayyy nottt have secretly namedhimselfafteroneofthetragicprotagonistsherelatesto- )

oh btw, Nahida also found joy and comfort in ur stories when she was trapped, they also helped her literally grow as a person bc she had ur stories to help her sort of process the world/what life was like outside of her dreaming prison 🥺💔❤️‍🩹

◇

OMFG

ANYWAY FULL TONE SHIFT LMFAO-

the ABSOLUTE SPIRAL-RED-STRING-CONSPIRACY-THEORY-BOARD ENERGY IF THIS WAS A BLUNT LANGUAGE AU LMAOOOO

like specifically how Teyvatians like to give all the context ever thru their words, but older deities/beings like you just do simple phrases that can have deeper meanings (whereas teyvat just explains all the meanings behind their words)

STOP there’s like an official display at the Akademiya and Fontaine Institute of red string theory boards 😭😭 (look what you’ve done to themmm LMAO)

for like every story of urs, INCLUDING THE FANFICS STOP

IMAGINE THE SHIPPING WARS IF U EVER WROTE ONE THAT WASNT EXPLICIT OR LIKE ONE OF THE MAIN ROMANTIC INTERESTS HAD CHEMISTRY WITH OTHER CHARACTERS HAHAHAHAA

that's actually what Akademiya scholars argue about the most viciously, it’s like politics you can’t just bring up ships from ur stories casually in regular convos 💀

(poor Cyno has to deal with a shipping war once a year bc someone always makes the mistake of reading ur work for the first time (without being told to not talk to others abt ships lol) and it starts an all out brawl in the cafeteria every time LMAO)

Also yes.

Cyno is a fanboy.

(he has read Creator x Reader-insert fanfiction.)

(As have most of the characters mentioned, and those not lol)

…

(I'm gonna make a whole Creator x reader fanfic post one day i stg lmao)

☆

an iced coffee? for me?? :0

ok but real talk…

wtf do you guys wanna see for new years!!

i didn't do a inktober/october days thingy bc i felt too unprepared (and bc id wanted to post that 1000+ followers eldritch au for Halloween)

but now i kinda wanna, at least for a few days :o

ill post a poll in a minute, so check it out!! but still, please feel free to comment some ideas here! :)

Safe Travels Deafening Dreamer,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily

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planned-obsolescence · 1 month

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god-tier sydcarmy fics

no one asked but i'm suddenly overcome with gratitude that fic writers just drop these gems for FREE. we are so lucky. these are the ones i constantly reread because they make me feel so much.

all of these are rated M or E because if they ain't fuckin, i ain't reading.

five times at a simmer; once boiling over by seh28 my kink? emotional intimacy. that's what these two need more than any bullshit stars. this fic serves it up like it's a floor donut and i'm carmy straight up eating that shit.

friends, partners, and intimates by sashafiercer i'm always here for it when syd gives carmy what he deserves. and i'm DEFINITELY here for it when the dialogue between the two is so on point it gives me whiplash. written by an all time 🐐.

forget about your house of cards by minecrafter42 i love reading about how carmy can't get it together in sydney's presence. this fic presents their dynamic so viscerally that the slow burn is more like a slow simmer. i needed a cigarette after i finished this one.

temper, temper by malariamonsters have you ever read anything so beautiful it made you cry? yeah, this fic. it's at the top of the tag for a reason because it captures carmy's consuming love for syd so perfectly. i want to live inside this fic.

child with a child pretending by emilybrontay sydney has a baby before she starts working at the beef, and carmy knows what bluey is. i'm done. i am very picky when it comes to stories set in sydney's POV (my girl is a complex masterpiece, you better get her right), and this is one of the greatest, most thoughtful.

Mise En Place by badcircuit love fics that present syd and carmy as partners in every sense of the word. beautifully written, hot as fuck. another one that gets syd right. again, i take portrayals of my girl so seriously and this one is gorg.

Take Care by oysterknife oh boy. this one literally came out last week but i already read it upwards of 10 times. i will read anything oysterknife writes but GODDAMN. this one changed my brain chemistry with the emotional intimacy between the two. i love longing and yearning and this one is like a masterclass in it. the literary references made me kick my feet and giggle. as a brooklyn girlie, THIS is the nyc i wanna see: flushing, crown heights, greenpoint minus the condos, shitting on the residents of murray hill, i want it all. also the ending made me sob. not joking.

#sydcarmy #using my obsession for good i hope

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joequiinn · 1 month

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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 5

[chap four] | [chap six] | [all chapters here]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: I'm very excited for this chapter because it's actually one of the scenes that inspired this whole fic! Before I knew what the hell I even wanted to write, I played this idea of a figure skating character over and over again in my head as I built up the story around it. I'm a little behind on writing the next chap, so it may be a slightly longer wait between this and the next one! Hope you all love it!

wc: 4.8k

taglist: @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @em0220 @fromasgardandback @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

Chapter Five

You skated at least four times a week. You’ve done so since you were ten years old, when you decided that you wanted to take figure skating more seriously. Whether or not you had competitions, whether or not you were in the mood for it, you always stuck with your skating routine. With competition season coming up in November, you knew you’d have to start practicing more, putting in longer hours and more days in preparation.

Or maybe not. After all, competing was something that your mom enjoyed, that she encouraged wholeheartedly. Regardless of how much you enjoyed it, it didn’t exactly fit the teenage rebellion thing you had going on right now. Maybe you wouldn’t go to competition this year, maybe you’d skip out on your final season out of pure spite - now that would be cruel. Although a part of you hurt at that idea - because you really did love skating - you reasoned that it was something you had to consider.

Fridays were always very long days for you. While your peers would be set free to roam following the 3pm school bell, you had more obligations for the day. Once you left school, you crammed in as much homework as you could before hitting the ice rink by 4:30 at the latest to get your own practice in. Once that was done, you led a youth skating practice until 7pm, then you tried to squeeze in some more skating time before the hockey team took to the ice at 7:15. After arriving home at 8 o’clock or later, you crammed more homework so you wouldn’t have to deal with it over the weekend, and then by that point you’d be too worn out for anything else, so you generally slept late into the next morning.

This had been your routine for over a year now, ever since your own couch suggested that you needed to get more extracurriculars under your belt for your college applications. She had insisted that your resume would look far more impressive if you showed that you had teaching experience and “leadership potential,” an idea that really appealed to your parents, who were determined for you to get into a good school, maybe even on a figure skating scholarship. So, you ended up taking over the Friday night children’s lessons whether you wanted to or not.

You honestly despised it. You led children age 5 to 7, and they were a constant pain in the ass. You couldn’t raise your voice without one of them crying, you couldn’t leave them to their own devices without someone inevitably ending up hurt. Yet, you stuck with it because you were told to, because the adults around you insisted that you needed to. You couldn’t stand the way your coach would insist that this would help develop your skills, you couldn’t stand how your mother insisted “you’ll look back on this so fondly when you’re older.” These damned kids skating lessons were something else you’d probably drop soon, because you barely tolerated them as is.

While everyone else was at the football game, while Eddie was probably off playing his stupid fantasy game or doing something equally as nerdy, you were here at the ice rink, shouting instructions at children while parents and hockey players watched. Some of the parents had made it clear before that they weren’t fond of your impatient and mean teaching methods, but your coach always seemed to talk them out of pulling their kids from your group. She always argued something about you being the best skating in the county, but you weren’t sure how true that was - sure, you had your fair share of medals, but even with your ego you were pretty sure there were better skaters at your level.

“Come on, slackers, we’ve got five minutes left!” You taunted your group of 11 kids as they skated around the perimeter of the rink as a cool down. You zipped ahead of them, leading the charge as you skated backwards to keep an eye on them.

Many of the older kids had grown used to your abrasive coaching, but you could see that many of the newbies were still frightened of you, your loud voice, and your cold eyes. As a means of excusing your poor teaching style, you always said that skating was a tough sport and they needed to toughen up if they wanted to be any good at it. For how pretty and elegant figure skating could be, you knew from experience that competitive skating could be harsh, so you figured you were helping these kids prepare for it.

Because the Hawkins High hockey team had the rink after your group every Friday, many of them were already sitting on the sidelines, getting their gear ready or watching you work. The cocky part of you enjoyed the attention, but hockey players were stupid, so you rarely gave any of them a chance whenever they tried talking to you. Nonetheless, when you were in a good mood, you enjoyed putting on a bit of a show for them, shooting flirty glances their way or occasionally calling out remarks to them between instructing the kids. Tonight, you were paying them little mind, but that didn’t stop you from looking their way every now and again.

As you led the kids back to the center of the ice to wrap up the lesson, a lot of their parents were also waiting in the bleachers or out in the lobby. While you skated back and forth in front of your little army of children, going over some instructions for their next practice with your coach on Monday, your eyes roamed the bleachers. You gave a wicked grin to the hockey players that watched you, meanwhile you took in the parents with very little regards. It was as you looked over the clusters of parents that you saw a familiar face sitting at the penalty bench, and unintentionally you let your toe pick drag on the ice, which very nearly caused you to trip.

God damn Eddie Munson.

As you glared in his direction, hoping your momentary lack of balance didn’t make you look too stupid, you dismissed the kids before gliding towards the dasher board. Eddie, grinning like an asshole, stood up to meet you as children began to exit the ice. You braced yourself on the rail of the board, eyes narrowed at Eddie who appeared far too amused for your liking.

“What are you doing here?” You ask in lieu of a greeting. Eddie briefly glances over at the kids leaving the ice.

“You’re incredible with children.” He mocked, smiling far too wide for your liking; you narrowed your eyes while wondering just how long he’d been here, “Figured I might find you here.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.” You respond coldly, gaze briefly looking in the direction of the hockey team to find a couple of them watching your interaction.

“You did say we needed to make plans, figure out how this was going to work,” Eddie started, taking in your red cheeks and slightly damp forehead that developed over the course of your skating lessons.

“I also said we’d talk about it next week.” You glowered a little, not worried if any of the hockey players saw it - maybe they’d simply mistake it for a lovers quarrel. Eddie grinned, holding his arms up as if he were a presenter on some dumb show.

“No time like the present, right?” Your unamused face gave him all the answer he needed, and his expression fell a little in annoyance, “And here I hoped I was being a good fake boyfriend by visiting you at the rink.”

“You’re being too good a fake boyfriend,” You jab.

Now that all the kids were off the ice, you slid towards the open gate; Eddie kept pace with you on the other side of the dasher board, meeting you at the gate and offering you his hand in assistance. You looked between his face and his outstretched hand with a glare, but eventually accepted his help, stepping over the barrier and onto the slightly cushy floor on the other side.

“I told you not tonight because I’m busy.” You walk over to the gym bag you left sitting on the nearest bleachers. As you sat beside it, Eddie shrugged with a carelessness that seemed almost false.

“Then I’ll go.” He answered simply as you removed your skates, “Just thought it might not be a bad idea to get to know you a little better. It’s not gonna be easy to fake date someone who you know nothing about.”

You shot him a harsh look while putting skate guards over your blades. You didn’t want to admit that he was right, but he had a good point, especially since you had already discussed it before. You sighed heavily through your nose, your cold eyes locked on Eddie’s.

“Can’t it wait? I’ve had a long day.”

Eddie studied you for a moment, leaning back against the dasher board before looking around the ice rink. You quickly put some worn sneakers on your feet and stood, picking your bag and turning away with the intention to leave. But Eddie’s gentle grip on your wrist stopped you from going anywhere, causing you to look between his hand and his face. As you two held eye contact, you realized that Eddie could be just as stubborn as you when he wanted; damn, was this going to be difficult.

“Let me buy you dinner - I’m sure you’re starving,” Eddie started, and for a fleeting moment you wondered if he thought your attitude was because you were hangry. You chewed your lower lip, eyes staring critically at Eddie for another few moments before you let out a defeated sigh, allowing your shoulders to relax a little. Considering that it had been nearly eight hours since your lunch break, it might now be a bad idea to eat something.

Eddie’s eyes softened at your silent resignation, the corner of his mouth pulling up. He finally released your wrist, nodding his head in the direction of the lobby, “Come on, you pick.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Your pick ended up being a 24-hour diner downtown. Eddie showed clear confusion when you mentioned it, so you explained that - for whatever reason - the diner had become something of a tradition, where students congregated post-Friday night football into the wee hours of the night. You’d joined that crowd a number of times in the past, but had no more interest in it - what you were interested in was having people see you and Eddie out together.

You knew it would still be at least an hour before the football crowd arrived, but that wasn’t such a bad thing - it gave you and Eddie a bit of time to actually become acquainted, to learn more about each other beyond “ice princess” and “the freak.”

You studied Eddie while sipping on a chocolate shake, waiting for your food to arrive. He stared back at you unabashedly, and you figured you could be locked into this staring contest until the end of time given how stubborn you both could be. As if Eddie knew what you were thinking, he smirked, finally caving as he looked away from you.

“Not to sound cliche,” Eddie scratched the back of his neck, almost as if he were nervous, but you assumed that couldn’t be true, “but… tell me about yourself?”

You smiled at how dumb the question was - that was so cliche. It was as good a starting place as any you figured, but that didn’t make it sound any less silly and forced. You leaned back in your seat, still holding tight to your milkshake as if it were a lifeline.

Putting on your best Miss America voice, you replied, “Well, I’m freshly 18 from Hawkins, Indiana. I love long walks on the beach, snuggling up with a good book, and I hope one day we’ll have world peace.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, although you could tell he was fighting back a grin, “You’re making this very challenging considering that it was your idea.”

You shrug, taking a big gulp of the chocolate shake, “I guess I’m just a challenging person.”

“You guess?” Eddie laughed mockingly at that, “You’re the most challenging I’ve met. So, how about you try relaxing a little or else no one’s going to buy that we’re together.”

You made a face at the near-insult, finally putting down your drink. You leaned your elbows on the table, taking in Eddie’s face for a moment, stubbornly resisting the urge to say anything. Again, he had a good point, not that you wanted to tell him that. Eddie appeared to have an idea as he mirrored your pose.

“Okay, we’ll go back and forth, a question for a question; how’s that?” You nodded, “Right. First question: Why me?”

Your brows furrowed a little in thought, pinning down a good answer while trying to recall what you’ve already told him, “Haven’t I already explained that?”

“Kind of.” Eddie rolled his hand in a motion that basically said “but go on.”

You bit the inside of your cheek for a moment while thinking, “Your reputation. People don’t know you, but your reputation is in the absolute gutter. No better person to turn to than the guy who everyone in the school already hates.”

Eddie nodded in acceptance of the answer, “Okay, your turn.”

You grinned a little, a question already on your lips, “Why’d you agree to it?”

It was something you’d speculated briefly throughout the week, as you thought that your trade offer might not have been a compelling enough reason for Eddie to agree to this stupid plan. And now you could finally get the answer you were looking for.

Eddie silently stared at you in consideration, and again it almost felt like he was able to read your thoughts somehow. Finally, he answered, “Curiosity.”

You raised a brow in question, to which he once more scratched the back of his neck - maybe that actually was a nervous habit, so you took note of it.

“We both know this idea is kinda crazy,” Eddie started, mulling over his thoughts before continuing, “But I wanted to see how it plays out. See if we can actually trick people into believing it. And I wanted to see if you were as awful as I thought you were.”

You balked instantly, an amused huff escaping your mouth, “‘Awful?’ Jesus, you keep acting like I’m the devil or something.”

Eddie made a face while shrugging, not disagreeing with you, “You thought the same about me. So, let’s call it square.”

Food was finally brought to your table, and you had to resist the urge to attack the greasy burger set in front of you; you didn’t need Eddie to see you act like a ravenous gremlin over some food, even if it had been over eight hours since you’d eaten anything. But you nonetheless dug in, albeit with far more control than your empty, growling stomach would have liked.

“Your turn.” You say around a bite of food, causing Eddie to smile in amusement and the unladylike action.

“Hmm…” He leaned forward, scrutinizing you as he contemplated his next question. Self consciously, you wiped at the corner of your mouth just to make sure there wasn’t any stray ketchup or grease sitting there, “Why ice skating?”

“Because it’s better than cheerleading.” You smiled at your own joke before giving a slightly better answer, “I always thought it was pretty. Nothing else to it, unfortunately; no deep story and significance to it.”

“Fine.” Eddie responded almost as if he was disappointed by the mundane answer.

“Why Dungeons and Dragons?”

“Your questions can’t keep being off-shoots of mine.” Eddie laughed a little, and despite yourself it caused you to smile smally as well.

“Says who?”

“Says me,” He responded while pointing at himself, “I get to come up with some of the rules now, remember?”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes with a degree of fondness, which you immediately found strange, so you tried to wipe the look from your face. Nope, you weren’t fond of Eddie Munson, not at all.

You went back to your food, hoping Eddie didn’t catch the amused look on your face. You spoke around another bite of food, “Do you have siblings?”

“None that I know of.” He replied around his own mouthful of food, “But I wouldn’t exactly be surprised if there were any out there.”

You cocked your head a little at the response; it wasn’t so much shocking or sad, rather it was unexpected and different from your own life. You made a mental note to learn more about Eddie’s family, if not tonight then at a later point.

“What’s your plan after graduation?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but then paused - what was your plan now that you were trying to make your own decisions? You hadn’t even considered it. Did you still want to go to college? Where? Studying what? You suddenly realized that you had no true plan for yourself, only the one outlined by your parents, and that realization made you nervous.

“Honest answer: not a fucking clue.” Eddie looked taken aback by the response, so you continued, “My plan before was getting into a good school on a skating scholarship, and studying something completely irrelevant. My parents expect my skating to carry me through life until some good, rich man sweeps me off my feet.”

“But that’s not your plan anymore?”

“That’s another question.” You give him a teasing grin, causing Eddie to roll his eyes, “First, answer me this: If you weren’t stuck in Hawkins, where would you go?”

Eddie grinned with an unexpected eagerness, “LA. The music scene there is insane, and I’d happily sleep on the streets if it meant I had a shot at making my own music.”

Your eyes softened ever so slightly at the unexpected, genuine response - admittedly, you didn’t peg Eddie as the type to have any real goals. But music? That was interesting to you since you weren’t even aware that he played any instruments. You wondered if he was actually any good at it, or if it was some foolish aspiration.

“Now, what’s your plan?” Eddie repeated, smirking at the look on your face - this was one of the few times you didn’t look like a total bitch, so he appreciated it. In fact, you looked relaxed and, dare he say, content; that was certainly unexpected from you.

When you shrugged, he shook his head, leaning forward again, “No, you come up with a plan right now. Don’t base it off what your parents want or what you think sounds like the right answer. What do you want to do with your life once we’re done with this shit hole?”

You contemplated, a mild concern washing over you as you stared at Eddie - what the hell did you want? And why did you suddenly feel so vulnerable because of the question. You had to rip your gaze away from Eddie’s, hardening your expression as you tried to think up an answer that felt right.

“I… I like art, I love clothes,” You started dumbly, glancing at Eddie through your lashes, expecting him to make a face at the lame answer, “I don’t know shit about them in a technical way, but it might be fun for college. Take painting or sewing classes during the day, skate until my feet hurt at night, maybe… I want to be somewhere big and interesting. New York, LA�� fuck, even Florida for all I care, I just want out of Hawkins, out of this town.”

“Then I guess we’ll be those high school sweethearts that run off to LA together after graduation, huh?” Eddie smiled widely, and you allowed an amused look to cross your face.

“Oh, I’m sure.” You returned to your food as you tried to come up with a good question for Eddie. An intriguing one came to you, so you asked before you could second guess it, “How do you expect your fake girlfriend to act?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed; it didn’t appear to be due to him misunderstanding the question, but rather that it was unexpected; he even looked maybe hesitant to answer it. Again, he scratched his neck.

You lean forward a little, looking at him seriously, “Give me a good answer, okay? We’re just gonna keep going in circles otherwise.”

Eddie shrugged, “Maybe I don’t have any expectations.”

“Then come up with some.” You immediately counter, prodding the same way he had about your plans for the future. Eddie stared at you with scrutiny while chewing the inside of his lip, as if he didn’t want to come up with a response to the question. You waited, making a mock sweet face at him while you chowed down on your fries. You were going to demand an answer until he gave you one.

“Well, going off the rules you already established,” He made a bit of a face as if to mock the oh-so-sacred fake dating rules, “Aside from playing nice in front of others, it might be helpful if you were less stubborn; you’re like a damn bull.”

You gave him a joshing smile right back, “Fair. Is that it?”

Eddie quickly shook his finger; now it was just a back-and-forth game of you mocking one another, “Ah, that’s another question.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You rolled your eyes with a short laugh, “That is not another question.”

Eddie gave a fake look of apology, shrugging again, “Unfortunately, it is.”

You threw a french fry at him, which lamely hit his chest then landed in his lap. As he laughed and picked it up, you found yourself smiling fondly again, and you quickly tried to shake off the expression.

At that moment, the bell above the front door chimed, and immediately the diner was filled with rambunctious conversation. Your heart jumped a little, realizing the time, and you briefly glanced in the direction of the door; the group that had entered wasn’t your friends, although you recognized them. You turned your attention back to Eddie, who gave you another grin.

“Showtime.” He stated simply, and then a thought appeared to cross his mind, “You want another expectation? Tell me if anything I do is too much, but otherwise let me do what I do - you don’t need to be in control all the time.”

“Don’t I, though?” You countered haughtily, which was met by a flash of seriousness across Eddie’s eyes.

“No, you don’t. I know what I’m doing, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, not entirely convinced that he did, in fact, know what he was doing. Considering that you’d never seen him even interact with a girl before, you weren’t sure if he knew the first thing about dating or romance. But despite your doubts, you relented, relaxing your shoulders as if to show you were relinquishing some control.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes nonetheless, forever obstinate as you mocked, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like something, but otherwise I’ll let you do what you do.”

“Was that so hard?” Eddie replied with a condescending smirk. You sneered before relaxing your face, knowing your friends were bound to appear any minute now.

As you stole another glance at the door, you suddenly felt Eddie’s fingers graze the back of your hand, drawing your attention back to him with a confused little knot between your brows. He held your gaze as if to make a point, as if to remind you of the conversation you just had, that he knew what he was doing. His hand simply sat on top of yours, your fingers ever so slightly lacing together - he raised his brows as if to dare you to pull away from him. You had to resist the urge to narrow your eyes at him and snatch your hand away, and in turn Eddie gave you a cocky grin before continuing to eat with his free hand.

Eventually, your friends appeared, although they didn’t notice you at first. They were all so full of energy as they excitedly spoke to each other, descending upon a few tables in the middle of the diner and pushing them together. The staff were used to it, although you knew from experience that they nonetheless hated it; you guys were always disruptive to the other patrons, and you figured that was never going to change.

You tried your best not to stare, but your eyes kept trailing over, kept studying the excited faces of the people you considered friends only a couple of weeks ago. After your eyes had drifted over for the umpteenth time, you felt Eddie lightly squeeze your fingers, causing you to unintentionally sneer at how strange it was to maintain this physical contact with him.

“Stop staring,” He instructed when you looked back at him.

With a quarrelsome look in your eyes, you did as Eddie told you, returning your attention to the half eaten burger on your plate, “Talk to me about something, then.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t care, just talk so I can pretend to be interested.”

Eddie looked mildly put off by that, and you realized that you’d taken your customary mean tone with him. You couldn’t seem to help yourself with your former cohorts nearby, it was as if their energy was rubbing off on you.

“You know what I’m going to talk about,” Eddie taunted with a wide grin.

Your face fell in realization, “Please not Dungeons and Dragons.”

“I’m gonna do it.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“So, there’s this character, Kas, who has really interesting lore--”

You threw another fry at Eddie, and at that same moment, you felt someone come up alongside your table. You both look up to see Amelia there with a critical look on her face; your gaze drifts past her, noticing that a few people from her table were also looking at you and Eddie.

You met Amelia’s eyes again, giving her a wide, false smile, “Small world.”

Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms, “Yeah, I’m sure you just completely forgot we always come here after games.”

“Maybe she just wanted to see her dear friends.” Eddie chimed in mockingly, once again surprising you with his willingness to instigate confrontation. You laughed as a dumbfounded look crossed Amelia’s at his remark.

“I don’t know what the hell she sees in you.” Amelia snarked with a glare before turning her gaze back to you, “And I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but it’s already getting pretty old.”

You shrug with exaggerated nonchalance, “Sometimes a girl just needs a bit of a change every now and then, you know?”

Amelia didn’t look convinced as she rolled her eyes with a dramatic sigh, “Yeah, well, this ‘change’ doesn’t suit you at all.”

Before you could respond with another quip, Amelia spun on her heel and briskly returned to her table. By that point, everyone there was watching and awaiting Amelia’s return, quickly huddling together to whisper conspiratorially once she sat down.

You and Eddie shared an amused glance; he went back to poking at his food as your gaze trailed back to Amelia and company. You happened to lock eyes with Duncan, who stared at you with harsh scrutiny, as if he wasn’t buying this thing between you and Eddie in the slightest. You gave Duncan a mocking while, starting to wave before flipping him off, causing Eddie to snort and choke on his food. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he hit his chest a couple of times, trying to clear his throat. The sound of such a genuine laugh escaping you was absolutely foreign to Eddie, but he decided it was a sound he enjoyed, even if it was at his expense; he made a mental note that he had to find ways to make you laugh more that didn’t involve him choking.

“You could’ve killed me.” Eddie croaked before laughing himself, his smile wide.

“You’re fine.” You teased, squeezing his fingers while giving him a false pout of sympathy, “You big baby.”

Eddie rolled his eyes in amusement, digging his wallet out while finally relinquishing the grip he had on your hand, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He tossed money onto the table and stood, offering his hand to you again. You quickly snagged one last fry before accepting Eddie’s hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He once again laced his fingers with yours as he led you through the crowded diner, and you had to fight back the desire to cringe in confusion at it. The both of you eyed the crowd of Hawkins High’s elite as they watched you back critically.

Once outside the diner, Eddie paused in front of one of the large windows and pulled a ridiculous face at the kids still watching you; he quickly tugged your arm, leading you back towards the van as you laughed again at his antics.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #em #dos and donts

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 2 months

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No seriously, I think the show is really going there, or at least implying it.

(spoilers)

I mean, there will never be Morph and Wolverine in an actual relationship beyond friendship, because Wolverine is the fanboy favorite, massively popular character, and they would never risk putting him in a m/m relationship. (Or interpreted as m/m, Morph being nonbinary but generally presenting in a male way.) We had a gay Wolverine in the comics, but he was an au version of the character in a book that wasn't widely read, and it was still controversial. And despite all the fan jokes and headcanons, there is no actual proof that Scott and Wolverine are fucking in the main 616 comics in whatever Krakoa "poly" relationship involving Jean may or may not be happening. Marvel is not going to risk upsetting fans with a bi Wolverine in a show that will be watched by far more people than read the comics.

But Morph having secret, unrequited feelings for Wolverine that go beyond friendship? Yeah, they could go there. Like I said in another post, Morph is a safe character to do this with, they were barely in the original cartoon, they have very little presence in the comics (outside of AU books like Exiles), they are far less popular than the big names. And the OG cartoon established that Wolverine is their special buddy. (Not to mention, TAS Morph has NO established sexuality, they don't express attraction to anyone in the whole series.)

So far, we've seen Morph shift into Jean and mock both her and Cyclops in an attempt to cheer up a despondent Wolverine (and doesn't that feel a little bit like a "Hey, look at MEEE!" moment?).

We've seen Morph go out of their way again to engage Logan in a mock fight. This happens during a montage when Jean is reading a letter from Storm, and scenes seem to correspond with Storm's comments about the importance of forming bonds with others. The Wolverine and Morph scene happens when Storm's letter is talking about how people will "make any sacrifice" to maintain those bonds, but what is being sacrificed here? I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that it's Morph ignoring and staying quiet about their feelings for Wolverine in order to maintain the friendship.

But then, there was the latest episode, holy shit. Everyone is hallucinating nightmares due to the influence of fake Jean/Madelyn Pryor. What does Morph hallucinate? They hallucinate a naked Wolverine in the shower - and the camera even does a slow pan up when Morph sees him, like the "sexy lady" gaze in movies. Morph jokes about helping Wolverine wash those "hard to reach areas," and actually starts to walk into the shower with him, holy shit. Then the hallucination shifts into nightmare mode, and the Wolverine hallucination responds with:

"Always with the jokes, Morph."

Then:

"As if I don't know. As if we all don't know."

Don't know WHAT, exactly? What exactly is the heterosexual explanation for this scene? Morph could have been hallucinating anything, the writers chose to put them in this very homoerotic situation with Wolverine. Oh, and at the same time, Gambit is seeing a hallucination of Rogue and Magneto together, in what seems like an obvious parallel.

"Wolverine" then changes into Sinister to show Morph's obvious greatest fear, but WHY start the scene like that? Why start with naked Wolverine and "As if I don't know. As if we all don't know."

They may not be fucking, but I will not be surprised if the show gives us "secretly pining for Logan" Morph.

#morph #kevin sydney #x men 97 #maybe they aren't fucking but Morph wishes they were

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cdragons · 13 days

Text

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 5

Previous Chapter, Masterlist

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. And if you end up murdering your English Professor for forcing you to be paired up with him, WHO COULD BLAME YOU???

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Mention of SA/SH, BDSM (sex dream), M/M/F sex dream, Felix is a pig, Reader claws Oliver's face, Michael loves Reader so much y'all, Farleigh is on Team Michael, Oliver is delusional and awful, alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic.

Author's Note: Finals are a BITCH, but I'm finally done...except I have to do my summer classes soon. But I really wanted to put this chapter out since it's been a while. Thank you all who've been reading this fic and sharing wonderful comments! They really help push me to become a better writer!

Michael’s head was about to explode in the next thirty seconds if fucking Farleigh Start didn’t stop digging his paws through his closet and drawers. No amount of clinking and clacking from tapping on his keyboard would be enough to dull out his shirts shuffled in his chest and hangers shrill screeching against the metal bar in his wardrobe.

“Dear God,” the Yankee, stick-figured giant groaned. “How many math pun shirts do you have? Don’t you have any normal ones? Oh my god, are all the pants you own khakis or Oxfam jeans? Do you seriously not own a single pair of corduroy slacks?”

He slammed his laptop shut. God-fucking-dammit, he was going to kill this asshole if he didn’t shut the fuck up.

“Maybe,” Michael gritted out, “if you just focused on the presentation we’re supposed to be working on, it’ll not bother you.”

Farleigh Start clicked his tongue. “Now, now – it’s not nice to be so testy. Most would consider themselves very lucky that I’m providing my services for free.”

The blonde-blind nerd balked when the word ‘services’ entered his ears. Immediately his mind thought of all the rumors that latched to Felix Catton’s mysterious American cousin – who apparently sucked off every teacher in England. Not that he was homophobic or anything – kiss, fuck, marry whoever you wanted, but he wasn’t interested in that sort of thing.

“Services – are you trying to suck my cock so I’ll do your work for you?!”

“…First off, ew,” Farleigh began. “Second, if I left you to do my side of the work, I’m about…86% confident that you’ll end up tanking my grade.” He strolled to Michael’s closet, pulled out a blue gingham-checkered shirt, and grimaced. “Thirdly, I am referring to how I am going to turn–” he nodded towards Michael in disgust “–this, into an actual suitor for our dear (Y/N). Or are you two still doing this little dance of being nauseatingly following each other around like sad puppies and giving each other bedroom eyes without actually fucking?”

Don’t take the bait, don’t take the bait, don’t take the bait, don’t take the–

Michael slammed his laptop shut and tiredly rubbed his eyes. With a loud and audible groan that he dragged out, he rubbed his eyelids until he could see the kaleidoscope of stars and squiggles in the dark.

Fucking damn it.

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you?” he damn-near shouted. “It’s not like that between us!”

Farleigh quirked a brow. “The bedroom eyes or the not-actually-fucking? Because if it’s the former…yes, it is, but if it’s the second,” he brought his hands together in a slow clap, “then well done, Gavey!”

Michael shot up from where he was sitting and ripped the shirt in Start’s hands before throwing it back in his silky oak wardrobe and slamming it shut. Was it so necessary for him to be so fucking insufferable? Was he born this intolerable, or did his fucking cousin, Felix fucking Catton, infect him because being a coked-up narcissist was contagious via proximity or blood?

He heard a few clicks behind him, and the scent of Marlboro Gold cigarettes filled his room.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

Michael turned around and stared at his completely useless study partner for this stupid project for his Classics course that he needs to fulfill his fucking “General Education” requirements. Farleigh Start was leaning against his dresser and staring at him with the most judgingly empty gaze ever worn – all while holding a cigarette between his two fingers and getting ash on the floor.

Great – like it wasn’t a bloody fire hazard to cover his carpeted dorm in hot ash.

He shrugged. “What’re you on about?”

Farleigh took a long drag on his lung cancer joystick before exhaling deeply. His disappointed look made Michael’s eyes twitch in irritation.

“About a certain mutual friend we share and adore,” he drawled. “Whom just so happens to be in my dear cousin’s room right now…at night…on a weekend…alone.” He paused to take in Michael’s reaction and smiled. “Ohhhhh, so you do care.”

Michael shook his head. “Nothing’s gonna happen between ‘em. (Y/N)’s too smart for that.”

“Yes, you see – I know that…and you know that. But my cousin?” Farleigh scrunched up his face and made a wish-washy motion with his hand. “Ehhhhh…he’s more the type to think a giant, glaring red-neon sign with blinking lights saying ‘STOP’ is another giant, glaring purple-neon sign with blinking lights saying ‘Come Hither’ in porno studio 69 font.”

Michael Gavey rolled his eyes and reopened his laptop. “Whatever, I’m not worried.”

“You’re telling me that it doesn’t bother you that our friend is currently in the lion’s den with Oxford’s king?”

“Of course it bothers me,” thought Michael, “but I trust her more than I trust you.”

But Michael wasn’t going to let his forced-upon acquaintance know his thoughts, so all he said was…

“She’s not in the fuckin’ lion’s den, alright? They’re in the Bodleian. I’m going to pick her up from there in like thirty minutes.”

Farleigh cocked his head to the side. “Don’t trust our girl to make smart choices?”

“I trust (Y/N) just fine,” Michael bitterly retorted. “It’s your fucking cousin I don’t trust.”

Because he does – he trusts you so much. He knows how sweet and kind you were to everybody you thought deserved the benefit of the doubt. ‘Deserved’ being the very fine keyword in the detailing because there was no fucking way in hell you were dumb enough to think Sir Felix Catton of fucking ‘SalTbURn MaNor’ deserved your kindness.

Mary, Jesus, and Joseph – he wanted to strangle the old kook when he announced the assigned pairs.

It was Classics English taught by Professor Radcliff Michael Charles Douglas. He droned on about what materials would be on the end-of-term examinations. Everyone in the classroom, save for you and a few others, was either passing notes by throwing them across the room or staring aimlessly at the air with red-rimmed eyes.

“Ya’ ready, partn’r?”

You pursed your lips as a groan fought to escape. You would regret introducing John Sturge’s 1960 American Western masterpiece, “The Magnificent Seven,” to Michael Gavey if he kept up with that god-awful Texas accent.

You turned to your left and shot a blank glare at Michael. “Listen, Billy the Kid, we don’t know if we’re going to be assigned together,” you said.

“Come on, Professor Douglas always pairs the people sitting together as partners so far in the entire term. If it’s not broke, why fix it?”

“Melanie Brown…paired with Bryce Landon…Kemi Brown…paired with Amelia Sanders…”

You leaned on your elbow to whisper in Michael’s ear to drown out your professor’s blasé voice.

“Can we do our project on Hercules?”

He leaned back. “Why him?”

“I want to present on the glorification of toxic masculinity in mythology, and he’s the prime example.”

Michael chuckled. “You just want to piss off old Douglas up there.”

“Katie Caldwell…paired with Oliver Quick…”

“Is that so wrong?” you asked with a smirk. “You can either be one jump scare away from seeing Jesus or a product of institutionalized glorification of misogyny – but you cannot be both.”

Michael stifled a laugh. “You realize that takes away pretty much half of the English, Math, Science, and every fucking department on campus, right?”

You innocently tilt your head to the side. “Does it?”

“You’re terrible,” Michael snickered. “Completely evil.”

“Oh, please,” you swatted his arm. “You love me anyway.”

“Michael Gavey…paired with Farleigh Start…”

You and Michael turned to the front with disbelief. Wait…if Michael was paired with Farleigh…then that meant…oh, no.

“(Y/N) (L/N)…paired with Felix Catton. That will be all – no changes.”

Michael watched with wide eyes as your head slowly turned to the back of the lecture hall. He watched your face pale in disgust and horror when your eyes stopped at Felix Catton. Michael’s blue eyes narrowed at the lecherous grin Felix shot to you before he puckered his lips to blow a little kiss with a wink.

Your body involuntarily shuddered at the predatory implications. Michael watched as his best friend buried her face in her hands. He heard her say the exact same thought he was having.

These are going to be the worst few weeks of my life.

To say it bothered Michael that Felix Catton was making the moves on you, so to lure you to his sex dungeon of a dorm was an understatement. It was killing him to know that you were essentially forced into a vulnerable position, but when he brought it up to your professor, the old cunt-rag didn’t give two flying fucks.

“Professor Douglas, please,” Michael pleaded. “I really think it’d be in everyone’s best interest if you could make this exception this one time. I promise it has less to do with me and more for (Y/N)’s sake–”

But the ancient windbag wasn’t interested. “Whatever accusations you and Miss (L/N) intend to throw at Mister Catton, I am uninterested. Honestly, Mister Gavey, I expected this kind of nonsensical drivel from your friend, but to see you being caught in her schemes disappoints me greatly.”

Michael bit his tongue to choke down the tongue lashing he wanted to give. He wanted to tell this wrinkled ballsack about how the ‘fine Mister Catton’ basically assaulted you. He wanted to scream how worried he was when he didn’t see you for the rest of the day. He wanted to shout how when he knocked on your dorm and entered, he froze and paled at the sight of you crying your eyes out until they were red and puffy. He wanted to roar out the fury he felt when you revealed to him the incident with Felix Catton that morning in the empty lecture hall. The very same one where Professor Douglas taught.

*TRIGGER WARNING: THE FOLLOWING SCENE FEATURES PAST SEXUAL HARASSMENT AND A DISCUSSION OF THE TOPIC, IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ THAT, PLEASE SKIP OVER*

“I couldn’t do anything,” you whimpered. “I felt like…like such an idiot! I just froze and stared and did nothing!' You started to cry all over again, and Michael wiped your tears with his thumb before holding you close to his chest. “Hey, hey, hey – it’s okay. Freezing and doing nothing are two different things. You were stunned by what happened, and your body reacted the same way – anyone who tells you differently is a liar.” You shook your head. “I couldn’t even speak…it was like my body – it ju-just shut off on its own. My brain kept screaming, ‘Let go,’ ‘Get off,’ or ‘Stay away from me!’ But I…the words and my voice just failed me when I needed them the most.” Michael blurted out the first thought: “(Y/N), you need to report this.” Your eyes shot open in fear. “Michael, no–” “Look, I know you’re scared, but this is assault. He touched your inner thigh, and you clearly didn’t consent – that’s sexual assault, or at the very least sexual harassment! If you report it, at least the campus police know about this and keep an eye out for you.” But you weren’t listening. “Nononononono—Mikey... that’s not how it’ll go down. Even if I report it, they won’t believe me.” “You don’t know that!” “But I do!” you cried. You shot up and started pacing across the room. “I do know because I’ve seen it happen! Almost every girl I knew growing up—it happened to them! At school, on the trains, some at their own homes! Whether they knew every detail of their assaulter or just saw just a patch of skin – it didn’t matter!” You weeped. “And if I tell the cops, they’ll just throw away the report because they’ll think that ‘all he did’ was touch my thigh. Consensual or not, I’ll be labeled as some fucking crazy man-hater who’s grasping at straws to ruin a fine young man’s life and reputation.” You collapsed back on your bed. “I just…I can’t deal that kind of shit right now. Not with…” you took a deep breath, “Not with everything that’s happening right now.” “…What can I do to help?” Michael hated how his voice cracked. He hated how completely useless he felt at that moment. More than anything, he wanted to march to the campus police and report it. But he knew that by doing so…he took even more control away from you by going behind your back. And then he would be a no better monster than Felix Catton. The idea of him going beyond the point of no return made him clench his fists until his knuckles turned white. But when you touched his hand, all the tension flowed out of him like a creek. “You already did the best thing anyone could do for me right now,” you reassured him. “You listened to me. You cared enough to look for me when you felt something was off. You reached out to me and stayed and listened. And most of all…you believed me.” Michael felt his throat go dry. You looked at him with so much trust, as if he were the safest place in your world. He wanted you to look at him that way forever. “I’ll believe you,” he swore. “I’ll be there for you – no matter what. I promise. Whenever you need me, I will be there.” No words can describe the relief you felt from hearing Michael’s promise. When you entered Oxford's campus, you never expected to meet someone as endlessly loyal and trustworthy as him. You were prepared to keep your head low and remain friendless for the next four years. You were ready to spend the next 1460 days crying your heart out from homesickness and imposter syndrome. But somehow, near the beginning of your first term here, you met Michael. And you were so grateful for him. You leaned in and lightly kissed his cheek. “I know. I know you will.” And you believed that with all your heart.

*TRIGGER SCENE END*

Michael promised you – gave his word – that he wouldn’t say anything to anyone. But, fuck, this asshole was making it hard to keep that promise.

“Mister Catton is a fine young man…”

No, he’s not.

“…one whom I have full faith will end up as remarkable as his father and grandfather before him.”

They probably pulled that same shit, too.

“A man with a future as bright as his does not need some upstart with delusions of grandeur to dismantle an institution as fine as Oxford blatantly spewing out trash about him.”

It’s not trash.

“Unless it was something with proof and worth my time?”

Michael looked at his Classics professor with empty but enraged eyes. “…No, professor. It’s just a personal matter between me and Felix – (Y/N) has nothing to do with it. She’s just…protective, I guess.”

This surprised the sagging skin suit. “Hmm, well, that sense of loyalty from such a strange girl is surprising, to say the least – especially when you take account of her…troubling background as an American from that horrible city. But perhaps there is a chance of decency in her, after all.”

Michael’s right eye twitched slightly. “And what do you mean by her…background?”

“Oh, come now, Mister Gavey. She’s a New Yorker. That city is full of…of…gang-bangers and drug addicts.”

“Her dad’s a professor at NYU, and her mum works for the buildings that host Broadway shows.”

Douglas scoffed. “HA! New York University – what a joke. A campus that’s filled with hippies and no class. And Broadway? Of course, Miss (L/N) is connected to the theatre community. Now, if that’s all, Mister Gavey, I have an important meeting to get to with the chairman of my department. I trust that this matter is settled?”

No, not even close.

But all Michael could do was clench his fist over his backpack’s strap. He forced an unconvincing smile and tersely nodded.

“Yep, won’t get any more problems.”

When old man Douglas replied with his patronizing smile, Michael wanted nothing more than to knock out the rest of the tenured professor’s teeth with a fire hydrant.

So…no, Michael Gavey was not at all okay with the fact that you were with Felix Catton. He was not OK with the idea that you were within ten feet of that depraved vampire.

All he could do was be reassured you were in a very safe and very public space with lots and lots of people who could serve as potential testimonial eyewitnesses if Catton tried anything.

…Provided that Catton Sr. wouldn’t be able to pay off everyone, their third cousin, and their dog.

You wanted to die. You wanted to literally sink into the ground. You wanted there to be a sinkhole to open under you, swallow you whole, close up, and you would never see the light of day again.

…Actually, you wanted all those things to happen to your useless fuck of a project partner.

“Y’know, if you’re bored here, there’s a party going on at one of my mates’ flats not far from here.”

Felix moved to the seat right next to you and limply swung his arm over your chair. “So why don’t we–”

You shot up and moved one seat over. “Considering how we’ve been working on the research for almost two hours, and you haven’t gotten any work done,” you bit out. “Getting wasted and losing more brain cells isn’t the right call.”

Taking your open hostility as a challenge, Felix continued to move closer to you. “Exactly! We’ve been at this for two hours, and nothing got done!” His face was inches from yours, and you could smell the rank stench of craft beers and rancid cigarettes on his breath. “So, what’s the harm in having a bit of fun?”

Oh my – this is getting fucking ridiculous.

You started to pack your bags and gather all the borrowed books. “Parties aren’t my idea of ‘fun.’ And I already told my friend to meet me–”

“So bring him too! The more the merrier!”

You took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten. “Our presentation is due in a week, Felix. One week to hand the paper in and present our topic to the class.”

You swung your backpack over your shoulder. “I take my coursework very seriously, and to say it’s frustrating to have a partner who doesn’t take it as seriously as me would be a supreme understatement.”

“I think from now on–” a swift *RIP* echoed between them as you took a page out of your college-bound notebook. You quickly jotted down instructions for topics so simplified a child could figure it out, “– it’d be best if we work separately.”

Felix shot up from his seat with a panicked look. “Wait, now hold on – let’s not get hasty.”

“I already have a basic outline for the paper - I’ll type up the paper,” you continued while not looking at him. “All you have to do is find the books I’ve so nicely labeled on that sheet of paper I’ve given you.”

“Wha-what happens after I find them?” Felix stammered; his heart broke from how his time with you was so cruelly cut short.

But your tone and body language remained as rigid as it was apathetic. “You have my email, you have a laptop – figure it out, genius. We’ll meet up at a specified time and place; you hand me the books, and we move on with our very separate lives.”

You walked out of the crowded library and toward the nearby bench where you and Michael agreed to meet when he picked you up. You barely had time to sit down before you were bombarded with the presence of a much worse pest stuck to your shoe.

“You get off on bein’ a downright bitch?”

God, was every asshole trying to piss you off tonight?

You turned around with a prominent scowl that further deepened as your eyes took in the insufferable bastard who was clearly trying to pick a fight with you. You don’t know why you bothered to look for confirmation. You immediately knew who it was just by the sheer arrogance oozing from his tone.

As an artist, you had a special relationship with the color blue. In the summer, there was a point in the early mornings when it felt like the world was bathed in it. There was even a period when you were downright obsessed with it. You loved anything and everything blue: the sky, the ocean, hydrangeas, the Obrina Olivewing butterfly – but eyes, you loved painting blue eyes.

You thought of them as these warm, magical rarities that belonged to the stuff of fairies and Disney princesses. Of course, you also knew the popularity of the usage of blue with winter and death, but you never felt that duality…until now.

Because as much of a slimy bastard Oliver Quick was, you had to hand it to the guy…he was one of two people with some of the bluest eyes you’d ever seen.

Which gave you all the more reason to hate him. He made blue eyes look so cold.

You clenched your backpack strap. “I’m not in the mood, Quick.”

Oliver scoffed. “I’d disagree – you’re always in a mood.”

“So stop talking to me,” you snarled, turning around. “And go away, Michael’s meeting me here soon.” You started to walk away when you heard Oliver speak again.

“I’m surprised he hadn’t dropped you left,” he maliciously quipped. “With you and Felix and all that.”

Your nails dug deeper into your backpack strap. “There is nothing between me and Felix – nothing at all.”

“Yeah, for now,” Oliver shook his head. “But you’ll be crawling to him with your hands and knees on the ground, worshippin’ him like he’s Hercules or Apollo.”

He leaned in closer from behind you. “And you’ll compare Gavey to Felix and look back and wonder ‘how the hell could I have missed being with Felix Catton over some pathetic’–”

Stop it. *clench*

“–unimportant–”

Shut. Up. *dig*

“– know-it-all –”

I hate you. I hate you. *pierce*

“– nobody.”

You turned around and dug your nails into his face as you poured every bit of rage and disdain for the single most insignificant person you’ve ever met in each word that came out of your mouth.

“Enough,” you roughly whispered. It was taking everything inside you to stop lashing out even further. “I don’t want to hear another word from you.”

“What? Plan to –” Oliver winced as you cinched onto his skin.

“Of all the mind-bogglingly,” *clench* “douche-like” *dig* “and despicable” *pierce* “crap you’ve spewed out,” you rasped. “Implying that I would ever choose as dull as Felix Catton over someone as rare and wonderful as Mikey has got to be one of the worst.”

“Do not push me any further, Quick,” You felt him tremble as you slowly released him from your grasp. “I’ve tolerated too much from you and the object of your obsession for far too long as is.”

You stepped back and gave the boy before you a good, hard stare. You never felt rage so deep, so demanding.

It was exhausting.

But you heard your name being called out from your left as you turned your head to see Michael waving to you with his arm high in the air. Had it been anyone else calling out your name, you wouldn’t have felt so quickly eased. You were about to move ahead to meet him halfway in the distance before Oliver’s voice stopped you.

“…What could possibly make him so special?” Oliver pathetically whimpered. “Why would you ever choose him when someone as bright as Felix is begging for you? Do you know what being with him means for you? What it gives you?”

…Was that it? Was that his best shot to get under your skin?

Looking at Michael, you answered him without meaning to.

“There’s no point in explaining it to you,” you calmly stated. “And I think you’ve wasted enough of my time.”

You picked up your stuff and left him alone with his thoughts. As you walked away to join your friend, you could feel his icy sapphire eyes digging into your back. Michael could feel how tense you were and asked if there was anything he could help with – but you waved away his concerns, stating that you had already wasted too much of your time with Felix and Oliver and didn’t want to waste anymore. Slipping your arm over his, you snuggled closer to his side and let the familiar scent of old math textbooks and coffee comfort you.

Oliver would make you pay for what you did – you’d be naïve to assume otherwise. He won’t do it directly, but it will happen. He’s the type to drink poison and expect you to die…only to learn too late that it worked as you lay on the ground bleeding and screaming your throat raw for help.

But right now, you were with your best friend; you two were going back to his dorm for a best friend sleepover, and it’d be enough.

…Yeah, it’ll be enough.

Oliver needed to make a plan – and fast.

Getting into your good graces was no longer a viable option for him; you made it annoyingly clear of that by the way you attempted to maul his face off. He gingerly touched the claw marks you imprinted on his cheeks as you tried to dig for his blood and bone with your nails. A corner of his mouth went up as he remembered your viciousness. He could practically taste the blood that nearly trickled down his cheek after you pierced his skin.

He hadn’t expected such a blatant display of violence from you, of all people, let alone on the campus’ hallowed grounds so near an establishment as ancient and crowded as the Bodleian.

For you, sweet, innocent (Y/N), to show such open hostility…to know he urged that beautiful, dormant impulsiveness to emerge…it thrilled him like nothing else. At that moment, he so clearly saw it. A darkness that was hidden deep inside you – bursting open from your carefully stitched seams. A deep desire for more in the dull, dull life God cruelly set upon you. Why else would a sweet, little all-American girl such as yourself travel all across the Atlantic to one of the most prestigious universities?

No, you were like him – exactly like him. Your reaction to his goading only proved that to him.

You weren’t used to it – that much was obvious…but that meant little to him. If nothing else, Oliver was resourceful. He’d learn more and more about what makes you tick before plucking you piece by piece into what he needed you to be for him. He’ll watch you explode before making you fizzle.

The idea of you at your fiercest – only for him to break it down bit by bit until all that was left was a more…subdued version of the hardheaded American girl from the Big Apple who loved to aggravate him during her first-year days at Oxford.

The thought alone made him salivate.

He could only dream how you’d be in bed. Your tight, hot little body would be squirming and writhing from the pleasure he and Felix bestow upon you. You, helplessly lying on your back while being fucked dumb by the two of them.

God, he felt himself getting hard at just the image alone – to make it a reality…that sort of victory, along with having Felix, would be nothing short of heaven for him. He unbuttoned his jeans as he took out his hardening cock into his hand. Not wanting to bother himself by starting slow, he immediately stroked himself with a rough and unforgiving pace. He wanted the pleasure from the fantasy to overwhelm him.

You looked perfect—replete, ethereal, and effervescent. Your entire body twitched as your eyes were blown wide, and drool dribbled down your chin. You put up quite the fight; the scratch marks on his and Felix’s chests proved that. But seeing you on your back on red silk sheets with your wrists and ankles tied to the bed posts made the struggle worth it. The red and pink bite marks that begin from the column of your slender neck down to your plush and tender inner thighs made for a prettier picture you could ever paint. “Oliver,” you pitifully rasped. “P-please, m’sorry – AH!” Your body jolted, and your back arched as he slapped your swollen clit. He struck his hand down one, two, three more times and watched as you thrashed and cried before another peak was forcefully ripped within you and came gushing out. God, how many times was it at that point? Three, four? It must have been quite a high number, judging by how tightly your cunt clenched onto his fingers when he thrust them inside you. “Look at her,” Felix cooed from behind Oliver. The Saltburn heir’s hulking frame towered over his lover as they watched their pet beg for mercy. “You almost feel sorry for her.” His hot breath panted into his ear as Oliver shivered in delight. The Quick boy gasped when he felt Felix’s large digits begin to enter his tight, puckering hole. “Take your fingers out,” he ordered. “And stick your cock inside her. You’ve been so good to me that I’ll let you fuck her sloppy cunt while I finger-fuck your arse.” Oh god, yes. Oliver took out his fingers and immediately positioned his hard cock at your leaking pussy as he spread your legs apart and forced your knees to press against your chest. “Wait,” you slowly blinked. “Wha…what’re you do–” Your back arched as Oliver pushed into you before thrusting into your cunt at a brutal pace. Tears were streaming down your reddened, flushed face as ecstasy-laden sobs filled the room. “Good boy, Olly,” Felix praised as he continued to push his fingers inside Oliver while the nails of his other hand dug into his hips. He let out a ragged gasp from how Felix deliciously stretched him out. He started out slow before moving his fingers at a faster and steadier pace. “That’s it, Olly. You’re so good – so good to me.” God, the contrast between the firm grips and harsh thrusts with gentle whispers of sweet nothings was like nothing he had ever experienced. And it only made the pleasure of Oliver plowing into your weeping pussy while you cried like a bitch in heat feel too good to be true. “Oh, you’re getting so tight,” Felix groaned. “You wanna come, don’t you? You wanna spill your cum into our pet’s little cumdump hole, right?” “Yes,” Oliver rashly answered before snarling to you. “You hear that, you dumb slut? I’m going to cum in you, and you’re going to take it.” “N…not i-inside,” you begged despite your walls clenching tighter around his cock. “P-please not inside!” Oliver just laughed. “You want it – oh, yes, you do.” He released one of your legs to grip your jaw and forced you to stare at him. “Don’t bother denying it. Your body knows how a whore like you is just desperate for me.” He chuckled as he thrusts into you even harder than before. “Well?” “Yes!” you cried out. “Yes, Oliver! Let me be your cumdump! I want your cum so badly!” Before Oliver and Felix permitted you to do so, you spilled onto Oliver’s cock, and the tightening of your walls, mixed with how deep Felix pushed his fingers inside him, made Oliver’s mind go blank – and soon, all he could hear was white noise.

Oliver slumped into his chair as a coat of sweat covered his entire body. Thick, white ropes of cum were still spurting out of his softening cock despite it coating his right hand. He ran his left hand through his dark curls as reality settled back in. Cold, bitter loneliness engulfed his body as he realized that you and Felix were not with him, and he remained as alone as before. A newfound determination to make his fantasy a reality soon took place.

His vision will be a reality. Felix will love him. And you will be their pet whose sole purpose in life is to take load after load of their pleasure.

But such things were too early to think about with how you were now. No…no, no, no…you were far too raw in your current state…too volatile…too stubborn…too American. He supposes it shouldn’t be too surprising that you latch onto fitfulness and inconsistency.

You were an artist, after all, and such was the fate of your kind to be destined to forever claw their way from the bottom as a means of survival.

But, however charming your unpredictability may have been in your concrete-paved, urban paradise that you call ‘home’ – that simply won’t do for him. He was more than confident that he could make you see things his way, but there were…problems needed to be resolved.

Namely, one in particular that came in ill-fitting apparel and bulky-framed eyewear – Michael Gavey.

Only an utterly blind idiot would miss how you pathetically secure your entire emotional well-being onto him. Oliver watched in total desolation and disappointment at how your glorious rage dissipated at the sight of him. But a part of him was equally as impressed at the mask you so expertly paraded, going so far as forcing your body language to adapt to the circumstances.

But…it wasn’t a mask, was it?

You looked at Michael Gavey the way he looked at Felix – complete and total worship. Michael Gavey, for whatever reason, was your sun, moon, and stars. The way you protected and so ardently adored him made the conclusion all the easier to reach.

Suddenly, it all became clear.

Of course…how did he not see it? The answer was so obvious. What better way to force you to his and Felix’s side…than to separate and condition you?

Isolation was a cruel and sadistic thing to thrust upon anyone – let alone who had so few friends in a foreign country like yourself. But he knew how much of an effective tool it could serve for him. Oh, it would be arduous initially – yes, it will. But it would all be worth it in the end. After all, in a way, this was your fault. If only you had complied with him when he was being nice, he wouldn’t have had to resort to such drastic but necessary measures.

Oliver darkly chuckled to himself.

Yes…everything would turn out in his favor. He’d make sure of it.

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindno, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes, @paradisepoisons, @pansexualpamandabear, @erikasurfer, @lissamans, @cookielovesbook-akie, @thesmutconnoisseur, @izzyisstuff, @lariisouz, @ma1dita, @jeondeluxe111, @itszzmoon, @wolfeginny, @mioshasworld, @bre99

Let me know in the comments your thoughts and if you want to be tagged when I update!

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go pray to my ancestors and beg for their forgiveness for writing Oliver's POV 🥲

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #michael gavey x reader #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie #felix catton x oliver quick #felix x oliver #oliver quick x reader

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obsessedobsesser · 2 months

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Are you into fanfiction? Have you written any, or do you have any favorites that you would recommend?

It may be safe to say that I have an addiction to Good Omens fan fic.

There's of course the fandom favourites (Slow Show, Factory Settings, Shotgun Wedding, Rough Enough For Love, Or Be Nice, One Night In Bangor, etc, etc) which I recommend to everyone as they are beloved by the fandom for a reason.

But, here are 10 that I've come across that others may not know of:

'Thus saith the Lord' by TheManicMagician (Teen And Up).

I read this fic on my way home from Florida sitting in an airport because our flight was delayed. I was so engrossed with it that I missed all the commotion of someone being taken off the previous flight on a stretcher. It does deal with hurt Crowley though and mind controlled Aziraphale. 10/10 would read again.

2. 'Would I Lie to You?' by FeralTuxedo & TawnyOwl95 (Explicit)

The boys are rival team captains for a show 'Don't Lie to Me" - which is based on the real life show 'Would I Lie To You?'. Lots of bicker flirting in this one. I'm a huge fan of FeralTuxedo and TawnyOwl and they do not disappoint with this fic. I devoured this.

3. 'Talk about the weather' by nightbloomingcereus (Mature)

Aziraphale is a meteorologist and Crowley is a YouTube storm chaser. I didn't know I needed this fic in my life until I read it. It's funny and heartwarming and believe me when I say that you'll fall in love with the story and the characters.

4. 'Honey, You'll Survive' by HotCrossPigeon (Teen and Up)

Look, sometimes I just like to see Crowley hurt and being taken care of by Aziraphale. This scratches that itch. The writing is so good and they capture the characters really well.

5. 'The Sandford Flower Show' by Mussimm (Explicit)

I am literally so shocked I do not see this fic pop up as often as it should. The plot in this is GENIUS. IT IS SO GOD DAMN GOOD. Crowley takes Aziraphale to a flower show and they meet Mephistopheles, a fallen seraph. Because our boys are idiots, shenanigans ensue. Seriously. Go read this.

6. 'Trial & Error' by fellshish (Explicit)

Crowley is on trial for temping an Angel (Aziraphale). I just read this one about a month and a half ago and I honestly can't get it out of my mind. The writing is hilarious and keeps you enraptured throughout it all. I also really adore how fellshish writes Crowley and Aziraphale. Their other fic The Loophole, or, How to Convince a Demon God Exists in Three Easy Steps is also amazing :)

7. 'The Shared Desk Dilemma' by MissUnderstoodLyrics (Explicit)

Crowley and Aziraphale are both teachers at Eden University who are forced to share a desk. A prank war ensues. As you can expect, this is a enemies to lovers fic and who doesn't love one of those?

8. 'Big Name Feelings' and 'And They Were Streamers' by ghostrat (Explicit / Mature)

BNF just finished a few days ago and it's such a cute fic. It's a fandom au where Crowley is a fic writer and Aziraphale is an artist. ATWS - as it says on the tin, the boys are streamers and live together. I absolute adore anything written by ghostrat.

9. 'how do we turn on the light?' by moonyinpisces (Explicit)

Honestly, I just know that this will be up there on my list with Factory Settings once it's finished (mainly because it already is). It's SO GOOD. It takes place after S2 and the second coming is happening. I really don't want to even give much away because I want everyone to read this. Everything about it is GENIUS.

10. 'Sit Tight, Take Hold' by nieded (Explicit)

I legit just finished this fic on Sunday but it has moved up to my must read list for anyone who is looking for GO fan fiction. The boys are Formula 1 drivers and the drama in this is *chef kiss*. For context, this fic is 150K words. I finished this fic in 2 days. It really is THAT good. It's also part of a series called #RAINBOWROAD so once you finish this fic, there is more to read!

This is only the tip of the iceberg of my ever growing list of GO fics.

Thanks for the ask :)

#Good Omens #Good Omens Fanfic #Good Omens Fanfic Recomendations #I just like Crowley and Aziraphale being idiots and in love together #And then sometimes in pain and hurt #But of course always a happy ending #I need them to be happy or else

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reds-skull · 8 months

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Fic recs - oneshots (part 2)

Felt like doing another post like this (might make it into a weekly thing idk, until I run out of recs I guess lol)

So like before, this post includes only sfw oneshots:

nothin' gonna hurt you, baby (nothin's gonna make you cry) by MikaelLo - Ghost is captured and drugged while on a mission. Soap finds him and together they deal with the fallout.

Shaken by bleepyear - Soap is haunted by the events of Chicago. His hands won't stop shaking when he holds a weapon. Ghost notices.

In A Hole In The Earth by Louffox - Soap is told to shut it on a mission. He takes it too seriously when he falls down a well. (this one is one of my favorites)

Dead & Bloated by saucebass_yahoo - Soap learns something shocking about Ghost that sets a plan into motion. Do dead men celebrate birthdays?

A Burning Hill by dandeliondick - Soap stopped touching Ghost completely one day. Ghost spirals.

Break Stuff by shiftpink - Soap has trouble making it through the day without wanting to break something. Ghost helps his friend.

you're my end and my beginning by crown_twist - What if teenage Simon got a sneak peek of John MacTavish? (this one is so fuckin sweet it kills me every time)

stay by crown_twist - Soap finally figures it out, and promptly fucks it up.

watch by crown_twist - Soap confesses to the wrong person

get high in the moonlight by wolfspit - Ghost gets drugged and it's not the "fun" kind of drug. Soap keeps him from choking on his own spit.

keeping you safe by oh_ellie - Ghost and Soap always see each other off for their missions. Except for the time Soap was too agitated at Ghost. And that's where he fucked up.

lipstick marks and teacups by flyby2 - Soap finds Ghost making tea when sleep evades them both.

Sit For You by Shitty_Nerds_N0tes - After a rough mission, Soap picks up his old sketchbook and Ghost gets a look inside.

Hypothermic Heartaches by Gummichii - Soap becomes hypothermic and starts taking off clothes. Ghost has to find him before it's too late.

sweet by ElizaStyx - It's the middle of a sleepless night, Ghost and Soap slow dance in the moonlight.

stay frosty by orphan_account - another hypothermia fic, this time both of them freeze their ass off [idk why I have so many of these lmao]

All I wanted Was You by Aessedia - Soap gets injured on duty. Ghost sees it happen and becomes feral in his need to save him.

Choosing Regrets by Sillililli - Simon thinks he can talk Johnny out of wanting him, but Johnny's always one step ahead. [edit: this one is nsfw I labelled it incorrectly in my own notes 😓]

last vision by sherashalala - Soap gets injured and thinks that hiding said injury is a good idea.

Heather by eddie_dxaz - Soap finds a girlfriend. Ghost struggles with it.

I'll stop here for today, still have an unreasonable amount to go through, and that's not mentioning any fics that don't fall into these categories! But I'm happy to do this, wanted to show fic writers some love, since a lot of these really deserve more haha

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #fic recs #soapghost #I decided on 20 oneshots for each post for now #thought i would finish this post but clearly... I have more than I thought lmao

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taboo-delusion · 2 months

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So, I just discovered something interesting.

This is a bit of a long one, so bear with me. It's important. Seriously.

I just woke up a few hours ago. My meds are starting to kick in. I was having a very serious and genuine, deep conversation (in-head) and it was... beautiful. It wasn't happy, but it was beautiful. Not the point.

Point is:

I had not had a single fucking intrusive thought today until someone made a noise in the other room.

I am so fucking PISSED OFF

Why my brain refuses to realize that intrusive thoughts CAUSED the good feeling to go away, I have no fucking idea. I've known that for almost a year now, yet my stupid fucking subconscious refuses to change anything it's doing

Before I snap my fucking android phone in half and yeet somebody's face into neptune, I thought I'd share the discovery!!!!

Basically:

MY INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS DID NOT START UNTIL SOMETHING STARTLED ME OUT OF FOCUS

AS I TYPE THIS, I REALIZE THAT INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS -AT LEAST FOR ADHDERS- ARE A SURVIVAL TACTIC.

Elaborating:

When you fall asleep and your heart slows too much, your body does the falling thing to make sure you're still alive.

It's not that intrusive thoughts are *Just* because your brain gets too quiet, It's because your life has never been completely quite before, or -like me- the few times it is quiet, something interrupts. And even if it doesn't piss you off, even if you don't jump like I do, your brain still registers it as not safe.

Falling asleep, heart slows a lot-

Body: *Sends adrenaline just to make sure it still actually works.*

Drowning, even mostly unconscious-

Body and brain: *Hold onto that last half-breath even if it feels like you're head is going to explode.*

Going grocery shopping or talking to someone you think is cool-

Brain: *Remembers what it felt like the first time your guardian was indifferent or mean about something that made you happy or calm.*

Things around you actually get quiet-

Brain *Sends a thought you hate just to make sure you're prepared for a sudden problem.*

TDLR 1: Your brain isn't mean on purpose, It's just paranoid and still has a will to live.

Listen. I know I'm just some random dude from a weird blog. But I'm trying to translate, to assist. Maybe somebody else needs this realization as much as I do. I apologize for the yelling earlier. I'm still just as upset, but only at my dumbass subconscious. Now some time has passed, and I have regained self-control.

(I also apologize for the above paragraph, my brain nags for me to do this, but I can't remember why. So:)

I am no psychologist. Here are my qualifications (why you should listen to me):

As my friends call it- "Disturbingly self-aware at all times."

Paranoid Schizophrenic with actual (unrelated) OCD, with years of experience dealing with it- more healthily in recent years.

Philosophy and deep thinking is simply my default. I use metaphors, but everything in this post is entirely literal, ...except the angry threat. (*begrudgingly accepts disappointment*)

I am a fiction writer. I don't know about healing people/first aid, but I know a LOT about how anatomy works, with many deep-dives on the psychology/evolution side.

People irl generally consider me a genius? Idk how to gauge that, IQ tests are irrelevant with this type of... smart?. I've been compared to both Da Vinci and Einstein. So, ...actually that's pretty fuckin' cool- (I AM NOT TRYING TO BRAG! I APOLOGIZE IF IT COMES OFF THAT WAY! I've never put it all down like this, and I'm just surprised and questioning my reputation.)

(Also, I love playing detective, so naturally I call myself Batman XD.)

Autistic; I experience the world, and every situation, from a view without any context.

ADHD: My brain automatically -As a guardian I hate describes- "Can watch three different movies at the same time, all in fast forward, and can keep up with all of them." ... Well, yes, but technically no. Idk if other ADHD people do this, but my brain "connects the dots" so quickly, I end up laughing at jokes I've never heard before the 'punchline', because I've already figured out what you're going to say next.

Now combine all that. I am kicking depression's ass and now I want to help you do the same.

I have only mentioned the relevant things. Please keep in mind that ALL of these have both advantages and disasters. Thank you for your patience and understanding. I am running on four hours of sleep. For the love of whatever, I hope this actually helps someone other than me.

Qualifications are noted because: This is all stuff (and stuff like this) that I am just always casually aware of.

TLDR2: Even if I wasn't trying to help people feel better, Apparently I was born with a nat 20 perception/insight check, so please don't argue that I truly understand what I'm talking about here.

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adh-d2 · 1 month

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It's not so much that I needed Tech to be alive.

I wanted Tech to live, but I grieved his character when he died.

Then the hints started coming. The narrative focus shifted to this mysterious new character and signaled that he was important somehow. The theories started spreading. Week after week the 'camera' lingered on long, slow shots of a helmet that wouldn't come off.

So yeah, I stopped grieving. The longer it went on the more convinced I became that this must be Tech, because clearly it was someone important. Otherwise it would just be poor writing. This show isn't written poorly.

Case-in-point, what a beautiful finale. My heart was in my throat the entire time. I cried. I loved it. Taken on its own, I'd go so far as to say it was perfect.

Except for the fact that the CX plotline came to nothing. Seriously. We've followed it all season, and it came to nothing? I'm not even clear on what happened. There were more of them. They were kind of an anti-Bad-Batch? Except not really? There was a big one that pulled Wrecker's signature move. There was one with knives. They were regs? I think? One lost its helmet in a background shot so I guess we can conclude they were all regs. With different builds. And different accents. I suppose it doesn't matter, since they all died after a few minutes of screentime having meant nothing to the protagonists. They were a boss fight. The plot marches on.

It's entirely possible I got too caught up in the speculation. Maybe when I look back on all the posts I wrote and liked and reblogged it will be obvious that we were reaching. But right now from here in the thick of it, I swear there's so much to see! Do you mean to tell me they really didn't notice it in the writers room? That it was all a complete coincidence?

Would it have been better if someone on the creative team had just come out and confirmed that Tech wasn't coming back? I don't know. I don't think they were obligated to. But when a good 50% of the discourse about your show ending is speculation on this particular CX character, and the answer isn't even a different plot twist, but that the character means nothing at all...well, you can see how the team could have avoided some disappointment.

Maybe this is a bad take. I don't know how I feel. I wish I could have enjoyed the finale without having to grieve again for a character we'd already lost.

For now I'll end by saying that I loved this show and I can't wait to rewatch it someday on its own merit, without the spectre of 'is-it-could-it-be-no-please-let-it-be' clouding my judgement.

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hoeforhao · 7 months

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Rusted Away 🍂|| Kwon Soonyoung ||

🍁pairing : ex!soonyoung × fem!reader

🍁genre : exes to lovers, bakery shop au sort of, mostly angst, fluff towards the end, mild smut, mutual pining, slow build up.

🍁warnings : none for this part. will be added in the later ones!

🍁summary : you and soonyoung broke up almost two years ago because according to him sharing a common interest point with each other, to talk about at the end of the day was a necessity. How will things turn out for the spiriting away lovers now that their friend group has assigned them both the common job of baking muffins for the fall party!

🍁part : 1/3 [for fall-ing for u collab ]

🍁word count : 0.8k

🍁author's note : this is my first ever collab and am so excited!!! also i'm posting a full blown fic after a long break for writer's block and i don't know how this has turned out. please let me know your views ♡ last but not the least thanks to @playmetheclassics for beta-reading this for me! ily <3

"Y'all can't be serious right now" you sounded quite disgruntled with your two minions on other side of the conference call, plotting against your sanity, for universe knows how long!

"Well I mean you two quite literally run the two most loved bakeries of our neighborhood. It shouldn't come as a surprise that we will team you up." Steph's plain and unbothered voice echoes right into your ears, specially the 'team up part'.

"Yeah it shouldn't have been surprising or disappointing if it was someone else Steph. But it's with him. With Soonyoung. The Kwon Soonyoung. Out of all the people out there, you two would at least know best about what he did" your voice started shaking with each word it got closer to mentioning his name ; again ; after 2 whole years.

You still were in disbelief that your two most close ones did this to you. After being with you all those nights you cried till you couldn't breathe anymore, holding your trembling body whenever you had the worst breakdowns to seeing you slowly heal from the scabs and stabs left by him, Steph and Niall were with you the whole time. Them now setting you up with him again, for a silly little fall party felt nothing but seriously insensitive to you.

Pressing down on the side button of the phone, you were now sitting on the bed, all covered up in your comfort blankie with a blacked out screen laying on your lap ; the glass of which reflected the browns and caramels of the backdrop outside the misty windows, onto your own ones.

Fall was finally around the corner, which meant that the roads will now be iced all rusty, drizzled with honey leaves and sprinkled on by dark wine twigs. Fall also meant one more thing...the one very thing that was like the warm covering on your wounds, that meant the most to you above anyone and everyone. Your sycamore tree!

Pushing away the fluffy blanket on your legs, you quickly pulled down your pyajams to get dressed into something more appropriate for the weather outside, something more comfy and something that made you feel like you're back home once again a.k.a soonyoung's brown hoodie. While havocing through your entire wardrobe to take out all his belongings and leave back not a single essence of him around you and on you, the idiot missed out on that one brown hoodie he owned...rather the one he loved the most and the one he gave to you on your first date - under the sycamore tree.

You knew that the only thing, the only friend that could soothe the burns on you right now was that tree, the one true buddy that has stood by your side through the pains even your best friends couldn't heal, the big brother that shadowed you whenever the world's bright rays tried to scorch on your skin. So without wasting any more seconds, you hurriedly ran down the stairs leading to the hall. Upon reaching the main door of your small apartment you twist on the knob to pull open the door, and quite instantly a gust of cinnamon flavored wind engulfs all your senses.

Fall was truly your soul season. No matter how much turmoil your life was going through, or how much clogged your brain was to come up with new ideas, a walk down the leaf stained path of your favorite garden while the season's cool breeze flowed through your hair, definitely helped the caged Robin in you fly free finally.

Since the day Soonyoung broke your heart and left you all alone amidst the rusted haze, you've been visiting this sycamore tree every fall, to reminisce all the warm happy moment spent under its shade. To feel the same happiness as the day you planted the tree with your best friend, when you both were only 8 year olds, with the person who held you like the softest cotton bud dispersing away in the breeze all these years only to tear you off the stem at one go now.

You were consumed in your thoughts about how crazy love was, about how the twigs that have seen two people be in love for so long, hang around it for years, the branches that have been painted with countless giggles and soft kisses, now had its leaves shedding themselves from the agony of seeing its spiriting away child standing beneath it to shelter herself from the bleeding marks left by its other child.

Just as you were about to sit down on the dewy grass covering the entire ground below, your phone notification sound blew up suddenly. Drawing the device out from your tote, your eyes fell onto the lit up screen to see the name you've been running away from all this time.

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evendumbo · 1 year

Text

And here come the long articles saying Ted Lasso is declining. I guess I don’t see how people watch, much less critique, the show without rewatching it, or at least watching it in concert with tumblr gifs. Trent’s description of Ted’s coaching style — “thousands of imperceptible moments leading to an inevitable conclusion” — also describes the writers’ storytelling style. No matter how many times I’ve rewatched the show, tumblr fans still have gifs and stills of things that I totally missed.

I read a funny tweet that was so done with tedbecca shippers because we’re like, “a pencil was on Rebecca’s desk and the same pencil was next to Ted…A HA!” It’s funny because it’s true. I can see if a person is like, look, I don’t have time to tumble on tumblr, this show about a game needs to stop being like a game and just say what’s on its mind. Fair enough. A person can critique the “total football” approach to storytelling if they’re not feeling it.

But when they’re like, Colin is randomly gay, for example, I’m like, that’s irritatingly heteronormative but it’s also incorrect. Colin’s extremely brief comment in season one about grindr was a little rainbow flag waving hello. Subtle, maybe imperceptible to some, but present. I'm very proud that I actually caught this one when I watched it the first time! However tumblr made damn sure I never forgot it so three years later I can be like, oh hey fam, Colin has a boyfriend, cool. His reveal didn’t feel random, it felt inevitable. The more obvious truth about Colin in season 1 is that he was a bully. The possible reason why he was bullying Nate is very subtle but it is there. The TL narrative style was able to make the point that no one, including many viewers, noticed what was going on. The narrative lesson is that we don’t pay enough attention to people around us in real life. Ted Lasso asks us to please pay more attention. Gifs help us to slow things down so we can see what’s going on. Maybe we should slow things down. Through both the story and storytelling style, TL (and fans) helps us honor the fact of the imperceptible and suggests ways to bring the world into a little more focus.

Anyway, I do wish critics would take the narrative method seriously before they write think pieces alleging that Ted Lasso has declined. Unless critics see this season as Act 3 of a three-act story built on a subtle but coherent storytelling approach, then I don’t see how, in good faith, they can evaluate if the show has declined, inclined, or reclined. They’re just…watching a different show.

TL;DR: tumblr > twitter

#ted lasso #declined has lost all meaning declined declined #uninvited semiotics #doing the most #get a life #tv is life #🤷🏾‍♀️

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angelic-dew · 11 months

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Hi!! I don't mean to be a bother, but could I possibly request rengoku and tengen (without wives and separately done!) smut hcs please? I understand if you don't do it! stay healthy 🤍

# smut headcannons !

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 💌 ୧・author's note :: sure anon! I hope these are okay, I'm not the best smut writer qnq also! sorry for the huge delay, I've been lacking motivation lately. when I get tengen's part done, I'll update it here!

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🍫 ୧・pairing :: Uzui T. x afab reader [not completed yet.] ⁞⁞ Kyojuro R. x afab reader — {you/your pronouns | separately done}

✧༉‧₊˚୨ ✖ ୧・trigger warnings :: mentions of female and male genitals. dirty talk. daddy kink. praise kink. size kink. biting. hickeys. slight mentions of rough sex. semi-public sex. fingering. raw dogging. spanking. ⁞⁞ 18+ content, children dni please. proofread.

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔.

꒰🔥꒱. I see Rengoku being into praising his precious lover in bed {consciously and subconsciously he does it}, he is a cinnamon roll after all, and a total sweetheart as a whole. Our beloved Umai King would also be extremely cautious with what he says; always taking into consideration your every action and signals with how you're feeling in bed. This time is precious to him and he takes it very seriously, always muttering phrases and short words of adoration and encouragement for your full enjoyment. Whispering ever so softly in your ear, always singing your praises to his heart's content.

꒰🔥꒱. Back in the Era Demon Slayer does take place in {1912-1926 || Taisho Era}, condoms did in fact exist, however, I believe Kyojuro prefers to go in fully raw for maximum pleasure as your walls tighten around him. That can translate to him wanting to prepare you a bit to take his entire length properly and with ease. He takes pride in prepping you, taking his time and lubing his fingers with some oil to make the process much easier.

꒰🔥꒱. He begins slow and gentle, soft to the touch; always treating you like some sort of dainty, delicate piece of porcelain throughout the process. Checking up on you at every moment as lewd cries of contentment escape from underneath your lips.

꒰🔥꒱. The flame Hashira does have a somewhat "rowdy" side to him. The thought of being able to do the deed with someone he loves ever so much really gets the blood flowing, to certain areas of course. So even though he's such a gentle sweetheart, he can still be rough in some subtle ways at times.

꒰🔥꒱. These can include bite marks along your body — hickeys and even light bruises peppering your breasts and neck; a few sprinkled along your collarbone area as well, as a finishing touch. It depends on what exactly is being done, but, he does tend to leave a few playful bite marks along your inner thigh area while giving you oral.

꒰🔥꒱. Because, let's face it, you know he's eating you out like there is no tomorrow. Rengoku is the Umai King after all, it's no surprise he can take that same talent of eating sweet potatoes and do the same to you, instead this time, he's eating out something that's definitely better than any food. He would ultimately prefer to give oral rather than receive, your needs come before his, always!

꒰🔥꒱. Rengoku is definitely an ass guy, don't try changing my mind. I see him loving to hold it within his palms gently, something about it just feels so enthralling that he can't even begin to come to his correct senses when he sees you in doggy style. That alone will make him pounce on you with little to no hesitation. Regardless of the size as well, he doesn't really care how big it is, once there's enough for him to grip and drool over as he pleases, it'll be a true treasure.

꒰🔥꒱. Kyojuro seems like the type to have a liking towards things smaller than him, so those rules will definitely apply to his lover as well. Especially if you're a bit shorter than the average person, bonus points to you right there, it only makes his size kink worsen each time. He simply adores the fact you're so tiny compared to him, yet so strong and able to take each, individual inch of his meaty cock every time; it makes him feel a sense of endearment per se. His little person's ability to feel all of him, honestly, makes him melt for you.

꒰🔥꒱. An alternative take on his size kink would also be a size kink, but you're bigger than him. He would have just as much adoration and love for you even if you were taller than him in just height alone. The cream of the crop that really gets him going has to be when he actually enters your warm hole. He practically dotes at the sight of your expressions as you tremble under his soft, loving touch. Despite your size difference, you're still extremely tight and sensitive to the touch — the Hashira is indeed fond of that.

꒰🔥꒱. He would most likely have a huge daddy kink as well. Of course, he wouldn't exactly mention it upfront, he would be a bit embarrassed to do so. I don't think he knows he has one until you call him it while he's ramming himself into one time. When you called him that, it almost made him feel a sense of power, but moreover, if he were to be frank, he could've felt himself get harder inside you from that word alone. Rengoku would definitely want you to say it more often; I firmly believe he would even imply it in his words as well while whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

꒰🔥꒱. Sex position-wise, I see him having a preference for wanting to have a view of your angelic face while also being able to please you to the fullest, of course, there are a few exceptions like doggy style, but here's some in line with his preferred liking. So, mating press, missionary, cowgirl {reverse cowgirl at certain times}, g-whiz and the seashell, to name a few. Ideally, Kyojuro would like to do it in a place of privacy so he can focus on you and you primarily, always putting your needs first. However, if there ever came a time when you wanted him urgently, he wouldn't hesitate to take a risk. Whether that be behind a large building or a bathroom stall for a brief moment to have a quickie.

꒰🔥꒱. As I stated directly before, he has a particular fondness for ass, specifically yours, rather than anything else. So out of impulse he would spank you or leave slight bruising along your waistline as he holds onto you.

꒰🔥꒱. He doesn't spank you hard, it's usually a simple small slap, but from the moment you start asking/begging for more, just keep in mind, his normal sweet demeanour will change to something otherworldly; trust me, he will not hesitate to give you what you want by any means. Whether that being you want him to be rougher, harder or even leave more marks on you, he will make sure you're satisfied down to the last touch.

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