#but the trailer is so well put together and like
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best picture
For the first time in a long time, I watched all of the movies nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars this year. Partly on a whim, partly for a piece I’ve been working on for a while about what is going wrong in contemporary artmarking. I cannot say that the experience made me feel any better or worse about contemporary movies than I already felt, which was pretty bad. But sometimes to write about a hot stove, you gotta put your hand on one. So. The nominees for coldest stove are:
Poor Things. Did not like enough to finish. I always want to like something that is making an effort at originality, strangeness, or style. Unfortunately, the execution of those things in this movie felt somehow dull and thin. Hard to explain how. Maybe the movie’s motif of things mashed together (baby-woman, duck-dog, etc) is representative. People have been mashing things together since griffins, medleys, Avatar the Last Airbender’s animals, Nickelodeon’s Catdog, etc. Thing + thing is elementary-level weird. And while there’s nothing wrong with a simple, or well-worn premise, there is a greater burden on an artist to do something interesting with it, if they go that route. And Poor Things does not. Its themes are obvious and belabored (the difficulty of self-actualization in a world that violently infantilizes you) and do not elevate the premise. There’s a fine line between the archetypal and the hackish, and this movie falls on the wrong side of it. It made me miss Crimes of the Future (2022), a recent Cronenberg that was authentically original and strange, with the execution to match.
Anatomy of a Fall. Solid, but not stunning. The baseline level of what a ‘good’ movie should be. It was written coherently and economically, despite its length. It told a story that drew you along. I wanted to know what happened, which is the least you can ask from storytelling. It had some compelling scenes that required a command of character and drama to write—particularly the big argument scene. The cinematography was not interesting, but it was not annoying either. It did its job. This was not, however, a transcendent movie.
Oppenheimer. Did not like enough to finish. But later forced myself to, just so no one could accuse me of not knowing what I was talking about when I said I disliked it. I felt like I was being pranked. The Marvel idea of what a prestige biopic should be. Like Poor Things, it telegraphed its artsiness and themes and has raked in accolades for its trouble. But obviousness is not the same as goodness and this movie is not good. The imagery is painfully literal. A character mentions something? Cut to a shot of it! No irony or nuance added by such images—just the artistry of a book report. The dialogue pathologically tells instead of shows. It constantly, cutely references things you might have heard of, the kind of desperate audience fellation you see in soulless franchise movies. Which is a particularly jarring choice given the movie’s subject matter. ‘Why didn’t you get Einstein for the Manhattan project’ Strauss asks, as if he’s saying ‘Why didn’t you get Superman for the Avengers?’ If any of this referentiality was an attempt to say something about mythologization, it failed—badly. The movie is stuffed with famous and talented actors, but it might as well not have been, given how fake every word out of their mouths sounded. Every scene felt like it had been written to sound good in a trailer, rather than to tell a damn story. All climax and no cattle.
Barbie. Did not like enough to finish. It had slightly more solidity in its execution than I was afraid it would have, so I will give it that. If people want this to be their entertainment I will let them have it. But if they want this to be their high cinema I will have to kill myself. Barbie being on this list reminds me of the midcentury decades of annual movie musical nominations for Best Picture. Sometimes deservingly. Other times, less so. The Music Man is great, but it’s not better than 8 1/2 or The Great Escape, neither of which were nominated in 1963. Musicals tend to appeal to more popular emotions, which ticket-buyers and award-givers tend to like, and critics tend to dislike. I remember how much Pauline Kael and Joan Didion hated The Sound of Music (which won in 1966), and have to ask myself if in twenty years I’ll think of my reaction to Barbie the same way that I think of those reviews: justified, but perhaps beside the point of other merits. Thing is. Say what you want about musicals, but that genre was alive back then. It was vital. Bursting with creativity. For all Kael’s bile, even she acknowledged that The Sound of Music was “well done for what it is.” [1] Contemporary cinema lacks such vitality, and Barbie is laden with symptoms of the malaise. It repeatedly falls back on references to past aesthetic successes (2001: A Space Odyssey, Singin’ in the Rain, etc) in order to have aesthetic heft. It has a car commercial in the middle. It’s about a toy from 60 years ago and politics from 10 years ago. It tries to wring some energy and meaning from all of that but not enough to cover the stench of death. I’d prefer an old musical any day.
American Fiction. Was okay. It tried to be clever about politics, but ended up being clomping about politics. At the end of the day, it just wasn’t any more interesting than any other ‘intellectual has a mid-life crisis’ story, even with the ‘twist’ of it being from a black American perspective. Even with it being somewhat self-aware of this. But it could have been a worse mid-life crisis story. The cinematography was terrible. It was shot like a sitcom. Much of the dialogue was sitcom-y too. I liked the soundtrack, what I could hear of it. The attempts at style and meta (the characters coming to life, the multiple endings) felt underdeveloped. Mostly because they were only used a couple times. In all, it felt like a first draft of a potentially more interesting movie.
The Zone of Interest.Wanted to like it more than I did. Unfortunately, you get the point within about five minutes. If you’ve seen the promotional image of the people in the garden, backgrounded by the walls of Auschwitz, then you’ve already seen the movie. Which means that all the rest of the movie ends up feeling like pretentious excess instead of moving elaboration. It seemed very aware of itself as an Important Movie and rested on those laurels, cinematically speaking, in a frustrating way. It reminded me of video art. I felt like I had stepped through a black velvet drape into the side room of a gallery, wondering at what point the video started over. And video art has its place, but it is a different medium. Moreover video art at its best, like a movie at its best, takes only the time it needs to say what it needs to say.
Past Lives. I’m a human being, and I respond to romance. I appreciate the pathos of sweet yearning and missed chances. And I understand how the romance in this movie is a synecdoche for ambivalent feelings about many kinds of life choices, particularly the choice to be an immigrant and choose one culture over another. The immigrant experience framing literalizes the way any choice can make one foreign to a past version of oneself, or the people one used to know, even if in another sense one is still the same person. So, I appreciate the emotional core of what (I believe) this movie was going for, and do think it succeeded in some respects. And yet…I was very irritated by most of its artistic choices. I found the three principal characters bland and therefore difficult to care about, sketched with only basic traits besides things like Striving and Being In Love. Why care who they’d be in another life if they have no personalities in this one? It’s fine to make characters symbols instead of humans if the symbolic tapestry of a movie is interesting and rich, but the symbolic tapestry of this movie was quite simple and straightforward. Not that that last sentence even matters much, since the movie clearly wanted you to feel for the characters as human beings, not just symbols. Visually, the cinematography was dull and diffuse, with composition that was either boring or as subtle as a hammer to the head.
Maestro. Did not like enough to finish. Something strange and wrong about this movie. It attempts to perform aesthetic mimicry with impressive precision—age makeup, accents, period cinematography—but this does not make the movie a better movie. At most it creates spectacle, at worst it creates uncanny valleys. It puts one on the lookout for irregularities, instead of allowing one to disappear into whatever the movie is doing. Something amateurishly pretentious in the execution. And not in the fun, respectable way, like a good student film. (My go-to example for a movie that has an art-school vibe in a pleasant way is The Reflecting Skin). There’s something desperate about it instead. It has the same disease as Oppenheimer, of attempting to do a biopic in a ‘stylish’ way without working on the basics first. Fat Man and Little Boy is a less overtly stylish rendition of the same subject as Oppenheimer, but far more cinematically successful to me, because it understands those basics. I would prefer to see the Fat Man and Little Boy of Leonard Bernstein’s life unless a filmmaker proves that they can do something with style beyond mimicry and flash.
The Holdovers. Did not like enough to finish. It tries to be vintage, but outside of a few moments, it does not succeed either at capturing what was good about the aesthetic it references, or at using the aesthetic in some other interesting way. The cinematography apes the tropes of movies and TV from the story’s time period, but doesn't have interesting composition in its own right. It lacks the solidity that comes from original seeing. (Contrast with something like Planet Terror, in which joyous pastiche complements the original elements.) The acting is badly directed. Too much actorliness is permitted. Much fakeness in general between the acting, writing, and visual language. If a movie with this same premise was made in the UK in the 60’s or 70's it would probably be good. As-is the movie just serves to make me sad that the ability to make such movies is apparently lost and can only be hollowly gestured at. That said, the woman who won best supporting actress did a good job. She was the only one who seemed to be actually acting.
Killers of the Flower Moon. The only possible winner. It is not my favorite of Scorsese’s movies, but compared to the rest of the lineup it wins simply by virtue of being a movie at all. How to define ‘being a movie’? Lots of things I could say that Killers of the Flower Moon has and does would also be superficially true of other movies in this cohort. Things like: it tells a story, with developed characters who drive that story. Or: it uses its medium (visuals, sound) to support its story and its themes. The difference comes down to richness, specificity, control, and a je ne sais quois that is beyond me to describe at the moment. Compare the way Killers of the Flower Moon uses a bygone cinematic style (the silent movie) to the way that Maestro and The Holdovers do. Killers of the Flower Moon uses a newsreel in its opening briefly and specifically. The sequence sets the scene historically, and gives you the necessary background with the added panache of confident cuts and music. It’s useful to the story and it’s satisfying to watch. Basics. But the movie doesn’t limit itself to that, because it’s a good movie. The sequence also sets up ideas that will be continuously developed over the course of the movie.* And here’s the kicker—the movie doesn’t linger on this sequence. You get the idea, and it moves on to even more ideas. Also compare this kind of ideating to American Fiction’s. When I said that American Fiction’s moments of style felt underdeveloped, I was thinking of movies like Killers of the Flower Moon, which weave and evolve their stylistic ideas throughout the entire runtime.
*(Visually, it places the Osage within a historical medium that the audience probably does not associate with Native Americans, or the Osage in particular. Which has a couple of different effects. First, it acts as a continuation of the gushing oil from the previous scene. It’s an interruption. A false promise. Seeming belonging and power, but framed all the while by a foreign culture. Meanwhile potentially from the perspective of that culture, it’s an intrusion on ‘their’ medium. And of course, this promise quickly decays into tragedy and death. The energy of the sequence isn’t just for its own sake—it sets up a contrast. But on a second, meta level it establishes the movie’s complicated relationship to media and storytelling. Newsreels, photos, myths, histories, police interviews, and a radio play all occur over the course of the movie. And there’s the movie Killers of the Flower Moon itself. Other people’s frames are contrasted with Mollie’s narration. There’s a repeated tension between communication as a method of knowing others and a method of controlling them—or the narrative of them—which plays out in both history and personal relationships.)
Or here’s another example: When Mollie and Ernest meet and he drives her home for the first time, we see their conversation via the car’s rearview mirrors. This is a bit of cinematic language that has its origins in mystery and paranoia. You see it in things like Hitchcock or The X-Files or film noir. By framing the scene with this convention, the movie turns what is superficially a romantic meet-cute (to quote a friend) into something bubbling with uneasiness and dread. This is not nostalgia—this is just using visuals to create effects. It doesn’t matter if you’ve seen anything that uses the convention before, although knowing the pedigree might add to your enjoyment. The watchfulness suggested by the mirrors and Ernest’s cut-off face will still add an ominous effect. It works for the same reason it works in those other things. Like the newsreel, it is a specific and concise stylistic choice, and it results in a scene that is doing more than just one thing.
In general, the common thread I noticed as I watched these nominees, was the tendency to have the ‘idea’ of theme or style, and then stop there. It’s not that the movies had nothing in them. There were ideas, there was use of the medium, there was meaning to extract. There were lots of individually good moments. But they tended to feel singular, or repetitive, or tacked on. Meanwhile contemporary viewers are apparently so impressed by the mere existence of theme or style, that being able to identify it in a movie is enough to convince many that the movie is also good at those things. The problem with this tendency—in both artists and audiences—is that theme and style are not actually some extra, remarkable, inherently rarifying property of art. Theme emerges naturally from a story with any kind of coherence or perspective. And style emerges naturally from any kind of artistic attitude. They are as native as script, or narrative, or character. A movie’s theme and style might not be interesting, just like its story or dialogue might not be interesting, but if the movie is at all decent, they should exist. What makes a movie good or bad, then, is how it executes its component parts—including theme and style—in service of the whole. When theme is well-executed it is well-developed. Contemporary movies, unfortunately, seem to have confused ‘well-developed’ with ‘screamingly obvious.’ A theme does not become well-developed by repetition. It becomes well-developed by iterationand integration. Theme is like a melody. Simply repeating a single melody over and over does not result in the song becoming more interesting or entertaining. It becomes tedious. However, if you modify the melody each time you play it, or diverge from the melody and then return to it, that can get exciting. It results in different angles on the same idea, such that the idea becomes more complex over time, instead of simply louder.
Oppenheimer wasprobably the worst offender in this regard. Just repeat your water drops, crescendoing noise, or a line about ‘destroying the world’, and that’s the same as nuance, right? Split scenes into color and black and white and that’s the same as structure, right? That’s the same as actually conveying a difference between objectivity and interiority (or another dichotomy) via the drama or visual composition contained in the scenes, right? When I watched many of these movies, I kept thinking of a behind-the-scenes story from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The story goes that Joss Whedon was directing Sarah Michelle Gellar in some scene, and when the take was over he told her how great she was, and that he could see right where the music would come in. And Gellar replied that if he was thinking about the music, he clearly wasn’t getting enough from her acting alone. This conversation then supposedly informed Whedon’s approach to “The Body,” a depiction of the immediate aftermath of death that is considered one of the best episodes of television ever made, and which has no non-diegetic music whatsoever. Not to imply that music is necessarily a crutch, or to pretend that “The Body” is lacking in other forms of stylization (it is a very style-ish episode). But more to illustrate the way that it is easy to forget to make the most of all aspects of a medium, particularly the most fundamental ones, once one has gotten used to what a final product is supposed to feel like.
And that’s why most of these movies don’t feel like movies. They create the gestalt of a movie or a ‘cinematic’ moment—often literally through direct vintage imitation—without a sense of the first principles. Or demonstrating a sense of them, anyway. Who needs AI when the supposedly highest level of human filmmakers are already cannibalistically cargo-culting the medium just fine.
[1] “The Sound of Money (The Sound of Music and The Singing Nun).” The Pauline Kael Reader. (This book contains the full text of the original review, rather than the abbreviated review that I linked earlier.)
#posts: art#movies#am rusty at blogging and don't have all the virtuous nuance i would like in this but we will go with it
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What if we kissed in the Maize Maze?
Ok so I wanted to start posting my Soulmates AU for Raindrop month, but writing for my Medieval one is going waay better than planned and it's confusing me to have 2 separate backstories in my head at once, so while I still have *checks calendar* 5 DAYS, here's a little stand-alone ficlet!
What if we kissed in the Maize Maze? A Midwest Emo Ghouls AU ficlet
Rating: T
Content: fluff, literally that's it just fluff
Words: 615
Lots of love to @alwaysjustmina for organizing this month again this year, I love any excuse to write about our soggy boys!! 🌦️🖤
hello @revengeghoulette, here is your summons as promised!! 🫡
Read below, or on AO3!
Haymaking season was coming to an end, and Swiss, Mountain and all the ghouls who pitched in to help were looking forward to a well-deserved break. To celebrate the end of the season, Swiss had built a maze out of hay bales for the children and kits of the town, as well as some of the more enthusiastic adults.
The whole community had come together to put on a party at the ghouls' farm. Mountain and his colleagues from the hardware store had built fairground games, Dew had dragged the church's speakers down on a trailer and was playing records Mist had brought from her shop. Aurora's cafe had a small pop-up, and Cirrus had brought a vat of apple cider, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic, for the younger guests. Cumulus was in her element, her little face-painting stall attracting such a sizeable queue that Sunshine had jumped in to help out. Phantom was taking his new role as Youth Pastor – and more recently Sunday School teacher – very seriously, replacing her in supervising a very intense game of tag. While Mountain minded the hay maze, Swiss was giving rides on the haycart he had hitched to the back of his tractor, driving the children and kits up and down the field in the warm afternoon sunshine.
After closing time, once the families had gone home, the ghouls had the place to themselves without getting in the way of the fun of the younger members of the community. Rain and Dew were the last ones left inside the maze. Aurora and Mist had quickly disappeared somewhere together, Sunny, Cirrus and Cumulus were deep into their mission of finishing off the cider now that their responsibilities were over, the three of them covered in rainbow paint and body glitter.
Dewdrop and Rain walked hand in hand through the maze, quietly drinking in each other’s company in the balmy evening air. Making it to the centre of the maze they sat down on a bale, surrounded by golden walls on all sides as the amber glow of sunset spread across the sky. Dew leaned his head on Rain’s shoulder, utterly content in the moment.
“It’s beautiful.” Rain commented, as they watched the play of colours around them. “Just like you.”
Dew turned his face to bury it in Rain’s neck, bashful.
“You are, and I’m so proud of you, taking over from Aeth like you did. You’re doing such a great job, love! Look at how the town and harvest are flourishing. I’m honoured to call you my husband.”
Never one to take compliments well, Dew redirected Rain’s affections by capturing his lips in a searing kiss. The pair lost themselves in each other, the cooling temperatures went unnoticed past the warmth of their bodies, the slight prickliness of the hay nothing compared to the soft slide of their lips.
By the time they came up for air, Dew having squirmed his way into Rain’s lap, the sky was glowing a deep russet colour. From outside the maze, they could hear the sounds of the others packing up to leave.
“Alright lovebirds, time to come out or I’ll send the dogs in!” they heard Swiss call. The pair only giggled, Rain placing feather-light kisses across Dew’s cheekbones while he blushed the colour of the sky.
“You don’t have a dog!” Dew hollered back as he struggled to hold in his giggles.
“Hi Dewy.” deadpanned Mountain.
Eventually, Dew and Rain managed to find their way out of the maze, neither wanting to be found and carried out by the giant earth ghoul.
“Nice straw hat, Rain.” smirked Swiss, “although normally you weave it into itself, not directly into your hair!”
#I’m tweaking the timeline slightly to have Phantom in town closer to Dew’s element transition shhh!#raindrop month#raindrop april#raindrop#midwest emo ghouls au#rain ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#the band ghost#ghost fanfiction#nameless ghouls#em writes
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Hello!!! How're you?? Hope you're well!! I'm currently having Munson family feelings lmao
Please imagine lil pre teen Eddie settling in with Wayne, finding his footing, becoming more open in a way that he wasn't with his father. And he's really getting into his dnd. Has the manuals Wayne got him for his birthday one year. A mini or two. And he wants to get better at DMing, but he can't practice with his group because that would ruin the surprise of it all. So one day, he shyly asks Wayne if he'll practice with him. Fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and shuffling his feet. Isn't 100% sure what Wayne will think just yet
And to his surprise, Wayne says yes. And Eddie just... lights up. Smiles a big megawatt grin and starts talking about how it'll be super fun uncle Wayne you won't regret it!!!
They spend an evening making Wayne a character - a human called Wayne, they're keeping it simple - while they eat Mac n cheese for dinner. Wayne loves how happy it makes Eddie. How carefree.
And on Wayne's next day off, when Eddie doesn't have school, they play together. A mini campaign, just for the two of them. Eddie practices his skills, gets to play dnd, and hang out with his uncle all in one go. It's kind of everything to them. It's a lighthearted adventure where Wayne goes on a quest to get the perfect bait so he can go fishing and catch his dream fish. Eddie tells him what dice to roll, helps him fight a goblin and a bear, and puts on all sorts of voices for the characters Wayne meets. Eddie gets so wrapped up in it all, so excited. But when it ends he's all nerves - bitten lips and wringing his hands.
Did Wayne like it?? Did he have fun?? Was Eddie good??
And Wayne honestly says it wasn't quite his thing but he had a lot of fun. Eddie is a damn fine storyteller, has a real knack for the dramatics. He'll impress his friends, for sure.
And idk!!! I love Eddie and Wayne exploring their dynamic and figuring out where they stand with each other those first few years. It would have been a bumpy ride but they love each other!!!
Wayne getting in from grocery shopping on a Saturday, he likes to go really early so he can avoid Sally Knowles town gossip extraordinaire who Kees letting Wayne know ‘people are gonna talk if you don’t give that nephew of yours a Mothering presence in his life’ Wayne’s heard enough of it. So while it means he has to get up early, he’ll do it to escape the song and dance of busy bodies.
He’s making his way up the trailer steps, bags of groceries in hand (he’s a one trip kind of man and won’t be changed) when he hears a voice behind the door. The muffled and rushed but excited voice of his nephew barely audible through the rustling of groceries and the clattering of god knows what in the trailer - ‘okay. Okay he’s here. Go time. Show time. Time to shine. Story telling powers on.’
Wayne can see Eddie in his minds eye, turning an invisible switch at his temple. A ritual he started for their very first session. The boy had been nervous then and now, four - games? Chapters? Wayne wasn’t sure - in the nerves were still there but the excitement far outweighed them.
Opening the door, Wayne flicked his eyes over to the couch were Eddie was propped up, books spread out on the coffee table and rudimentary map laid across the table top.
Eddie’s head shot up, ‘I’ll help!’, scrambling to his feet to take some of Wayne’s provisions off of him.
‘You in a rush, son? Normally I’m shouting you through to give me a hand with these?’ Wayne was teasing. Could see that Eddie was conflicted, had Wayne forgotten that he promised to finish the story today? That it was going to find the Pond Of Dreams? Wayne loved the kid but he wanted to have a little fun too.
Setting the bags down and putting the freezer items away, everything else could wait. Not even glancing down at Eddie, Wayne stretched tall and exaggerated ‘think I need a nap after that. Don’t mind me Ed, gonna get some shut eye.’ And the thing is he couldn’t look at Eddie, if he did he’d crumble and it would all be for naught. One glance of Eddie in his home sewn cape and it’s be over.
So he hot footed it to the bathroom, hoping Eddie wouldn’t question the pre-nap detour or the backpack he was taking with him.
He could hear Eddie mumbling, frustration and disappointment evident in his tone. Then the tv going on, cartoons on high volume as he tried to distract himself. Which is when Wayne decided to re-appear, clad in his full fishing gear and rod. Along side a toy lizard he velcroed to his shoulder.
‘Well boy, you ready to go fantasy fishing? Heard there’s a dream pond waiting to be found’ Wayne tipped his fishing hat like a cowboy as Eddie’s eyes grew wide, scanning the outfit. It wasn’t much but Wayne tried to add the little details as he could; the potion belt of healing (an ammo belt he borrowed from somebody at work), the spear character wayne earned in his first battle (a pvc tube Scott Clarke was happy to provide after their last dinner where Wayne recounted Eddie’s tales) and of course -
‘Is that Creedence?!’ Eddie finally speaking up and pointing at the lizard, the decided companion and helper to Wayne in his journey.
‘Sure is kid, think he’s ready to roll. The question is, are you?’ It’s not the easiest thing for Wayne to do, sometimes he feels silly with all the fantasy and character voices that Eddie insists upon but when it makes the boy this happy? This unguarded and free? Who is Wayne to say no? Maybe the sillyness is good for him, good for both of them.
#MOMO WHEN I SAY I PUT A HAND TO MY MOUTH AND GASPED!!! OUT OF SHEER JOY!!!!!#GIGGLING AND SQUEAKING!!!!#MR MUNSON!!!!!#oh I LOVE HIM#SO MUCH#snuck some clarkson in there for the eagle eyed amongst you#AHHHH MUNSON BOYS JUST LEARNING ABOUT EACH KTHER#what if after Steve and Eddie get together steve is round at the trailer#and there’s an ongoing conversation (it’s NOT an argument okay? (it is))#about Steve playing dnd and Steve’s all ‘wayne will you please tell Eddie not everyone in his life has to play dnd ‘#and Wayne just has to sit there like ‘well Steve that’d be the pot calling the kettle black’#and Steve is in SHOCK ‘YOU? he got YOU???’#and Eddie’s sitting on the couch smug as a pig in shite ‘first ever story stevie’#AAAAAAA MOMO KISSED AND HUGD AND PRAISE AND ADORATION FOR YOH!!!!#stranger things#eddie munson#wayne munson#THANK YOU THANK YOU MWAH I’ve not got much to offer I just LOVE YOUR WORDS!!#I always do that shouldn’t be a surprise.#do you know how lucky I feel to get your messages????#UNREAL
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Yaoi has poisoned all of your fucking brains !!
#Yakuza HATEblog#i dont want to hear about the new yakuza trailer where kiryu proposed to soemone he wouldnnever do that thats so scary#also they refered to sayama as the cop lady like please show some respect to her she didnt be annoying for you to forget her#ive become homophobic now because i hated seeing a particular post so much like that will never happen you are crazy#like no this isnt how kzmj can win they have never even once considered a future together because kiryus foreplanning ended when he lost#his brother and majima has spent half her life waiting for saejima to come back like they have more important things to worry about#and kiryu is not able to share his kids with anybody he cant simultaneously raise haruka with someone he has to either be a single dad or an#absent dad no in between and sometimes haruka is left parentless in the middle of that mess but its not kiryus problem hes driving cars amd#beating people up .... well he does care sorry for insinuating he doesnt ... he thinks about his kids every day#but i guarantee you he does not think about majima every day i swear it to you he does not care about her that much !!! i have to forever#stress this doesnt mean that he hates majima but it simply means that shes not his priority AND SHE WILL NEVER BE !!! kiryu will never#risk it all just for a suckle on that majiwilly like he doesnt like her that much ... if kiryu didnt even give majima so much as a phonecall#when he was ignoring her the entirety of y3 AFTER tossing her back to the wolves just so he can play house at okinawa.. hes not going to#suddenly realise that he wants to spend the rest of his life with majima hes going to be pondering how miserable he is while beating the#fuck out of people because sorry i didnt actually pay attention to the gaiden stuff is kiryu a hitman now or some sort of mercenary either#way its so hot that hes paralleled by y0 majima because hes so depressed and wants to kill himself and forced to wear a nice suit and do#things he doesnt want to while being kept on a tight leash like hohooho ... have sex with me ...!!!#im going to kill him myself to put him out of his misery if i have to ... just let kiryu run off to america and join the cia im kidding but#wait i just thought of him actually running off and sayama pulling some strings in the force to keep people from looking for him because#shes like a bigshot cop now ... i think she should be able to cradle him gently and keep him like a show cat#a shivering wet penis in the rain and she takes him in and gives him a loving home ... i feel a little embarrassed talking about hetships#but the concept of kiryu just being in her house and living with her is making me laugh like wow ... hes straight now.... like obviously hes#still not going to be like lets get married 🥰 but sayama would want to... i believe that she could forge their documents so kiryu isnt an#illegal immigrant anymore and she gives him an american name so john yakuza can become real ... its like a fake dating au but they really#arent dating theyre just having sex and acting out scenes from a kdrama but eventually kiryu will have to go back because hes so sad#without his kids and he needs to see them one last time to pass away peacefully. sorry i just remembered how much older kiryu was than#sayama like thats a bit funny ... like i still think kiryu should be into older guys or girls but like we cant always have that happen#like how majimas options for getting fucked by creepy old guys are getting lesser year by year because those old geezers keep dying and hes#old now too ... like theyre so old thats fucked. i know ive been saying how kzmj can never win but i do think majima should breastfeed kiryu
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omg i cant believe i 100 percented the hero mode in one day (long spoiler-free talk about it in the tags lol i need to let it out somewhere)
#it was crazy good!! down to everything#the difficulty was a good balance between splat2 story mode and octo expansion#where it wasnt holding your hand too much and where it doesnt make u wanna tear your hair out lol#i wanna talk more about how the two are blended together but it would be spoilers so i wont#the songs in literally every part of it is are so good!!! they will def satisfy my splatoon song cravings#the animations! like wow!!!? it made me wanna screen record every moment#i also like how it effectively taught me the new things added in splat 3; like the little tips will help me in battle!#i love everyones interactions as well <3#lil buddy is adorable; like ok when he was first shown for the first splat3 trailer#he was cute but not like important to me; but im attached to the lil guy now... my lil buddy💓#the ending was so satsifying too!! the final boss was literally so epic and thr conclusion was wholesome :))#truly an experience#(also side note it was hard to find a pic i wanted to put here that was spoiler-y so i just did a close up of my buddy lol)#by 100 percent i mean i did all the stages in each section and cleared the map#i got almost all the collectibles; just missing some small ones i still need to find#jenivi rant#my post#splatoon#splatoon 3
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Anyway, kind of don't want want my house decorated in old lady kitsch or to be dressed in nouveau riche pensioner chic
May shock you, but I find that kind of insulting and want to fill my house with my own shit and figuring out making my own clothes so I can wear something nice that I like that isn't just overpriced plastic that falls apart instantly
#the kitsch isn't stuff I hate it's just not stuff for me#I'll probably just give it away over the years being like#'like don't feel forced to take it; but that's why I have it; so if you like it give it a good loving home like I can't'#like there's a little dinosaur fellow who is a cookie jar and he's nice... but he's living on a bottom shelf in the pantry#I'd love it if someone I liked saw him and loved him and took him home and put him front and center somewhere#they could send me a picture and I'd be happy for him and I'd have more room#I love my stuff; I want it to be happy and properly loved... I can't do that for most of it#I want to repair it all and the ones I can't properly love find the right home for#it actually... it actually hurts me a lot how things are but... what can you do but keep moving forward#I just kind of ignore it#my mom was constantly having breakdowns during cleaning up the trailer but like me...#you think it didn't shred me instead seeing all this stuff I loved or wanted to love but... like there's this really beautiful lamp I have#don't think I can keep it cause too much pain from my mom that's held for me in it#need to find it a good home; cause it's great... I'm just kind of too broken to hold it ever#anyway... you think the trailer didn't constantly devastate me you're wrong; but I just turned myself off and worked...#just can't have feelings when there's work to be done; can't think; you just take care of it if you want hope for a time to deal with it#I still can't deal with it; but if I get stuff fixed up... well... probably just pass it to others and still not deal with it#repression is what holds me together for sure; don't mess with a working system#hopefully some day I manage to just kill my personality and become an automaton doing the tasks I want done#but for now repression works#mm tag so i can find things later
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do you remember what the first videogame you ever played was?
kind of, yes! i'm almost 100% certain the first game i ever played was mario 64
#ask#anon#i can remember a good portion of my early life. like i can remember a lot of what happened during the age of 3-4#like. my family moved houses two times in the time i was 1-5 (primarily in neighboring houses owned by previous family members)#so like. i dont have a great memory of when i lived in our first house. which was a trailer.#i only have one memory of living in that trailer and we have that moment on VHS as well so i kinda have two angles of that memory#i primarily remember my life between the ages of 3-5. which was located in our second house#i have two older brothers (im the youngest) and they had a few game consoles when i grew up so we had a lot of games#but im almost 100% certain the first game theyd let me play was Mario 64. its the only one that makes sense to me#i was 3 in 2001 so you can kinda put together what range of games i had back then#the primary consoles we had (that i knew of) at that time were the N64. the Sega Genesis (i think. it had alladin and mortal kombat)...#and a PS2 and a PS1#we had a dreamcast momentarily when we moved to our third house because i remember playing sonic adventure 1#but yeah. my memory is wild#i feel like ive asked my mother a few times as to what my first game was but... i think shed answer with mario 64#my mother loves mario 64 and sunshine#and we didnt get mario sunshine until an easter of one year in our third house (which i associate with starburst... the game)#i.e. i associate mario sunshine with starburst... not our house#i couldnt tell you what the closest second game would be. it couldve been anything. like literally anything#i still have my N64. id never let that thing go believe me. even still have that copy of mario 64#thank you for the ask :) i very much appreciate the question
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Please tell me these plants will also come as single objects...
#could only spot them grouped like this in the trailer#they're also in the scene with the upright piano in the background#but from that angle I cannot really tell if they're part of this plant bundle or single objects#anyway I can't get behind the tendency of the sims team to give us objects as a grouped bundle although they'd perfectly work on their own#especially plants#(yeah I know it's probably because of the amount of individual objects they can or want to put in one pack)#they just would be so much more versatile and handy as single objects#but well#we'll have to wait and see#just rambling#the sims 4#sims 4#ts4#sims 4 growing together#growing together#sims 4 new expansion#trailer screenshots
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MAPPA gave Nanami such beautiful hands that they never fail to make you feel things.
a/n: Bye, the trailer JUST came out, and I can't get over how good they made Nanami, so I'm writing out this to put myself together. @satoruhour pushed me on to write this so ty swee-T-pie, love u sm 💓 this is just like when they released that hidden inventory trailer and i drooled over Toji's hands help 💀 so yeah this is just me writing a short smthn for kento's hands, sorry not sorry. also tysm for 1.9k!!!
cw: Nanami x fem/afab! reader - first soft then smutty, so minors DNI - h@nd h0lding - soft dom! Nanami bc yes - fingering (f! receiving) - hand kink (ig?) - fingers in reader's mouth - pet names (angel, love, sweet girl) - praise - clitoral play - you and Nanami in a cute domestic relationship ♡
wc: 950
You love Kento Nanami's hands. It's no secret to yourself because it's the truth. But you can't blame yourself; you can't help it! There are so many moments with him where you can't help but admire the man's big hands, and honestly, it's embarrassing at this point. It's a guilty pleasure that makes you feel such pleasant emotions, makes you want him more and more.
Even before the two of you expressed courtship, there were days when you'd encounter and have idle chitchat with the stoic man, and those were days that were hard to go through when you had such a tremendous crush on the guy. So much so that you'd drift your gaze away from his feline mocha eyes masked by his eyepiece. Instead, you'd look at his hands, admiring how beautiful and big they are. Aside from his face, they were the only thing visible from his dapper suit. Not that you complained, though. The more you saw and talked with Nanami, the more you marveled at his hands in your thoughts.
And when you two finally started dating, things were going slow and steady. Just as the two of you wanted — no rush at all. But a memory you hold dear to your heart was when the two of you walked home in the cold winter. The chilly breeze sent shivers down your spine, and your nose found breathing tricky in the extreme temperature change. Not to mention you forgot your mittens at home. Just my luck...
However, it wasn't all that bad. After all, your boyfriend (it felt a little weird calling him that) offered to walk you to your place, sticking close to your side, which was a rarity back then. Heat finally found its way up to your cold cheeks when Nanami took the initiative to grab ahold of your hand with his, the size difference making it easy to exchange warmth. "Here," he said so nonchalantly it almost felt like a dream. "Don't want the wind to blow you off the sidewalk." It was such an airy gag from the usually silent man, yet you chuckled and held his hand tighter, the cold overlooked throughout the rest of the walk.
Even watching him doing the most ordinary things is a sight. Whether he's washing dishes, making the bed, or cutting vegetables for the next meal he was cooking for you two, your eyes would always find their way to his deft hands. Rugged palms moving swiftly and gracefully, veins that stem from the back trail upwards to his forearm, and thick fingers with scars so faded with time that you'd have to be very close to see them. You're so in love with him — with his hands. They make you feel safe and secure, warm and loved. Specifically in times when you two are close to each other. Whether it's you resting on his chest as he reads a book while rubbing circles on your back or holding hands with you two walking around the vicinity, it couldn't get any better.
...Well, perhaps now as you're lying on the bed with your back to his chest, succumbing to his touch as one hand cups your cheeks while the other burrows inside your panties — his fingers intruding between your folds and playing with your leaky entrance staining the underwear with your come.
"Ooooh, Kentooo..." You moan to his thick digits in your vulva, scraping your spongey walls that result in high wails. He rubs your cheeks and maneuvers your face to the side so he can lay kisses on your neck, and you melt under his lips with a blissful hum.
"Open your legs a bit more for me, angel." His command is hushed to your ears. You follow his instructions and spread your legs further apart, and he rewards you with another finger added to your chasm. Now both the fore and middle digits slide deep into you, and the brush of his thumb on your clit results in sudden wails. "Good, that's my sweet girl."
His fingers graze your insides expertly, having you writhe on him with how good he's making you feel with just his fingers alone. The speed of his digits increases by the second, and you can feel the wave start rising in your body. Your body jolts with every scrape of his fingertips, pornographic whines fly out your mouth, and your face gets hotter and hotter.
"Haaaah!! Mmnnn...Kento, I'm so close. 'S so close, I'm—Mmmph!?" You don't get to finish that sentence when Nanami stuffs his free fingers into your mouth, your tongue immediately coating the two digits with your saliva.
"Go on, come on me, love." His sweet words were what it took for everything to come crashing down, the fingers in your cunt quicken in pace, and his thumb flicking on your clitoris — causing you to grab onto his forearm. Scratching the clothed limb and heavy pants drawing inward, your cunt clamps around on his fingers as your orgasm comes to pull you in for a euphoric release.
And Nanami lets your body experience the shocks on top of him, laying precious kisses on your temple and cheeks. He slowly removes his digits from your satisfied cunt with a whimper from your puffy lips. "Did so well like always, angel." In your daze, you still share a smile and welcome his lips on yours.
Like you said before — Nanami's hands are your guilty pleasure in more ways than one. And it feels so good to know he reciprocates those desires with mutual love. If such a gorgeous and attentive man can have you under him with just his sheer touch, then so be it.
#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒔#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#nanami kento smut#nanami smut#nanami x you#nanami x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk thirsts#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento imagine#kento nanami smut#jjk nanami smut#nanami fluff#nanami thirst
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And then there were three.
Eddie munson x pregnant!reader
Summary: you and Eddie find out you're pregnant.
Warnings: fluff, talks of pregnancy, pulling out, condoms etc. Talks of sex. Kissing.
WC: 2.5k
A/n not proofread. I'm posting because it's been rotting away in my drafts. Sorry if this isn't good. I don't even remember what it's about.
18+ minors dni
"This can't be real..." You whispered to yourself as you stared blankly at the piece of plastic in your hands. Staring at two little pink lines.
Two little tiny pink lines telling you you're pregnant. How? You and Eddie have always been careful. You used protection every single time you had sex.
You've had scares in the past where your periods were weeks late. But when you ended up being over a month late this time around. You decided it was time to take a test. You had a gut feeling you might have been pregnant.
You were exhausted more so than usual. Extremely sensitive and had nausea every morning and evening. Were you surprised? No. Shocked? Yes. There was a little part of you hoping you were wrong. A baby right now just wasn't in yours and Eddie's plan.
You've only been dating for almost two years now. While having a family with him is something you do want. Getting a head start right now just wasn't ideal. You only just moved in together this past summer.
Now that you hold this little test strip in your shaking hands, you know you'll have to break the news to your boyfriend eventually. He's out in the living room watching The Golden Girls. A show you never would have guessed was his favorite. You heard his laughter echoing around the trailer during the cheesecake episode.
Was he going to be mad? Would he scream and yell at you? Blame this all on you? You thought to yourself. You felt like you were going to throw up out of nervousness.
No. Eddie wouldn't be upset with you over something like this. He isn't that type of person. No matter how others viewed him to be. He isn't like that. You can't even remember a time he raised his voice to you. You soothed yourself down, taking deep breaths.
Opening up the bathroom door, you make your way over to him.
"Hey baby, come watch." He pats the cushion next to him.
You swallow hard. "Uh, can we turn this off for a sec?"
Eddie looks up, noticing there was something very wrong with you.
"Uh, sure." He grabbed the remote, switching the tv off.
"Well, there isn't any better way to tell you this, so I'm just gonna say......I'm pregnant." You blurted out.
Eddie laughed at first. "Pregnant. Okay." He takes a sip of his beer. His laughter quickly died when you saw the serious and very scared look on your face.
"You took a test?" He gulped.
"Yeah, just a few minutes ago." You swallow another lump in your throat.
You immediately start to panic again, "We're always careful. I don't know how this happened."
Eddie stands to quickly be by your side. He hasn't really had time to process what you just told him. His immediate focus right now is calming you down.
We're careful...WE'RE ALWAYS CAREFUL!" You shouted. Your face is growing hot, and you feel like you could pass out any moment.
"You always wear a condom you fuckin' keep them in your wallet for christ sake"
"I know, baby, but I mean those things don't always work," Eddie reassured you softly, rubbing your back.
"We're always careful." You repeated again.
"Well, let's think back to when we weren't careful." He's trying to help put the pieces together. There had to have been a time when you both were so caught up in each that he didn't put on a condom or something.
"When was there a time I didn't at least wear one?"
"I dunno." You tap your fingers against your forehead. While Eddie guides you to sit down on the couch. "There had to have been a night - where - we..." You trailed off.
"My parents," you gasped loudly, snapping your fingers together.
His brows shoot up, and his eyes widen. He suddenly remembers that night very, very well. But he pulled out. He knows he did.
"When we stayed the night because of the storm" You continued on. The memory of that night flooding back to you. That was it. Eddie had promised to pull out right before he finished - yet obviously didn't do it in enough time.
There was something in the air that day. You couldn't pinpoint what it was. You had told Eddie to behave, but at dinner, you were the one misbehaving. Teasing him a little. Trying to get a rise out of him. You didn't think he was still going to be worked up even after it was time for bed. You were wrong. Very wrong.
"Huh," Eddie sounded utterly perplexed. He moves to sit down next to you. trying to bring you any amount of comfort he can offer.
"Huh what?" You repeated back to him. Why wasn't he as freaked out like you?
"Jus' the fact that I got you pregnant on a pull out couch is fucking ironic" He was in disbelief. Absolute disbelief. He knew pulling out wasn't his strong suit, but he never thought from just that one time would get you pregnant.
Was Eddie upset you were pregnant? No. Not at all. Having kids with you was something he always saw in your future together. How could he be so stupid, though? He thought. The one time he doesn't use a condom and you get knocked up.
"Are you--are you joking right now?" Your mouth hangs open. "Don't joke, please don't joke."
"Hey, hey, it's okay. Everything will be okay. " He pulls you to him. Your head lays flat against his chest. He was trying to be supportive, but on the inside he's freaking out. When he freaks out, he makes dumb jokes to lighten the mood. Something he knows he shouldn't have done, but it's too late now.
"Sooooo at yours parents place it was then." He draws out leaning forward to rest a hand under his chin.
"I guess." You murmured.
Eddie smiles fondly to himself. He most definitely remembered that day. That night, most importantly.
"....well," He perks up, jumping up to stand. He was trying to be as optimistic as possible. Truthfully, on the inside, he was freaking out. If you weren't sitting there in front of him right now, he would probably be pissing himself. Eddie knows you would be an amazing mother to his children. He most definitely knows he would be a great father, too. A complete contrast to how his father was.
"Time to make some calls." He was already heading for the phone when you panicked, running over to stop him. "We can't not yet--i need to see a doctor first."
"To make sure I am...I mean I know I am, but I need confirmation,"you further explained. Eddie just stood there listening to you and agreed as he silently nodded his head.
"Okay, well, after we see the doctor, who are we telling first? Your parents or my parent?" He was so eager to tell everyone. He was terrified, but the more he thought about it, the more excited he became. A tiny little version of you and him mashed together, running around.
"We'll tell Wayne first." You said matter of factly. You loved your parents, but you were closer to his uncle. He was like a second father to you, and you couldn't imagine anyone else knowing before him.
Eddie smiles and leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.
"You scared?" He whispered leaning his forehead against yours.
...a-a little, but we'll be fine." You whispered back. The longer it sinks in that you're pregnant, the panic seems to fade. Eddie wasn't angry with you. He was scared you could tell but that's to be expected.
"Don't be scared, baby. We're doing this together." He reassured before kissing your lips softly again. "M'gonna take care of you both."
It's been three weeks since you took your pregnancy test and had your doctor's visit. They confirmed you were, in fact, expecting. Two months, to be exact. You were greatfull you got pregnant in the winter. Oversized sweaters and hoodies were your best friends. Now, it was time to break the news to everyone.
Eddie and you had already agreed. Wayne was going to be the first to know. You had everything planned out. You had told Eddie to call his uncle and ask if he wanted to go out for dinner. Knowing Wayne, he wasn't going to pass up on an opportunity to spend time with either of you.
You wanted to surprise him with a gift. You know Wayne has a green thumb. He loves to garden. He brags about how he has the best tomatoes in Indiana. So you took Eddie shopping for the perfect gift to give to him as a cute way to tell him you and his nephew are having a baby. You hope he'll catch on and figure out he's going to be a grandpa when he opens his present. It's a little onesie with "Home grown" embroidered on the front with little veggies.
"I like this one." You pointed at the cute little outfit on the hanger.
Eddie chuckled,reading the front. "Wayne's gonna love it. Hell won't be surprised if he tried wearing it." He joked, picking up the tiny shirt off the rack.
You giggled, "I can't wait to tell him."
"Me too, I can't keep my mouth shut for much longer." He mumbled, smirking at some of the funny sayings scribbled on the baby clothes.
The longer you came to terms with the fact that you're pregnant, your stress eased up. Sure, you were still scared, but you had Eddie and your friends. Plus your family. You reassured yourself almost daily that you'd be fine and to enjoy your pregnancy. Every single article of clothing you saw you bought. Didn't matter the color or size. If it was cute, you picked it up.
Eddie was a nervous wreck in the beginning but concealed it well. Mostly because he knew he needed to be there for you. he was also excited, too. He couldn't wait to share his hobbies with his little one. Read them bedtime stories. Sing to them at night before bed. Teach them to play an instrument or two. He looked forward to showing up to the PTA meetings in his battle vest with his sweet "mini me" on his hip.
Eddie knew he was going to be a good dad. He promised you and the baby still in your tummy every night he'd protect the both of you. He couldn't keep his hands off your belly. You weren't far along in your pregnancy, but Eddie was constantly hoping he could feel a little kick.
"We should do the dinner today." Eddie mentioned holding a handful of baby clothes.
"He might wanna to do it tomorrow since he's off."
"I'll call'em when we get home and ask. he can't say no to me." You agreed. It's true Wayne can't say no to you. Which you will take advantage of.
Later on that day after you and Eddie arrived home. You put Wayne's surprise in a little gift bag with a note attached to it.
Picking up the phone, you began dialing his number patiently, waiting for him to pick up. He should be home by now. You thought. "Hey Wayne, it's me, your favorite. I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me and Eddie tonight instead of tomorrow? "
Eddie leaned closer over in the wooden chair sat by the dining room table. He scoffs when he heard you get extatic on the other end. Knowing full well, his uncle said yes.
"You will? Okay, we'll pick you up at five o'clock sharp."
"Favorite, huh?" He crossed his arms with a smirk.
"You know it." You playfully mess up his hair as you run to your bedroom to get ready.
"Yeah, well, I've known him longer... I have seniority over him!" Eddie yelled out, teasing you.
He gets up from his chair, making his way to your shared bedroom. He stands there leaning in the doorway. Admiring you getting undressed in front of him. Taking in every curve on your figure.
Eddie moves to wrap his arms around you from behind. Pulling your back tight to his chest. His nose buried in the crook of your neck. You smiled softly, melting into his arms.
"Ya know, I was reading that baby book you bought it said something about sex helping induce labor." He whispered seductively in your ear. His lips trailing light kisses down your neck.
You turned your head."...Eddie, that's not until months from now." You let out a breathy laugh.
"Yeah, but just think about how well prepared you'll be when the time comes - kid is just gonna slide right out." Eddie argued. You know half of him is joking, and the other half is completely serious.
"Get dressed, babe. we leave in thirty minutes." You peel yourself from his tight grasp.
"Offer still stands." He holds up his hands in surrender.
Fifteen minutes went by, and there was a loud knock at your front door. His uncle had driven over so you all could ride together. After much bickering from Wayne, you all packed in Eddie's van.
Wayne refused to let Eddie drive, so it was you and him upfront with your boyfriend sulking in the backseat. Mumbling to himself about how he's not that bad and how everyone else just drives slow.
You noticed Eddie's uncle looking at the small gift bag you made up for him. His eyes kept wandering over to guess who it was for and what was inside.
Once all three of you pulled up in front of the new local diner in Hawkins. You three gathered in and let the hostess walk you over to your table. You and Eddie sat next to each other in a booth, leaving wayne alone across from you. The waitress comes over taking everyone's orders. After she left, you figured it was the perfect time to give it to him.
You look up at Eddie, nudging his side to grab his attention. His uncle just got done scolding him over his breaks needing change.
"So uh, we got you a present," Eddie coughed. He doesn't think he can handle more lectures from the man who practically raised him.
But he straightened up his back, preparing for anything.
"Yep here you go hope you like it." You picked up the bad next to you and placing it front of him.
"For me?" Wayne grabbed it and started taking the tissue paper out. "It ain't ma' birthday yet."
He laughs when he pulls out the tiniest little shirt he's ever seen. "Home grown, that's cute...I don't think it's gonna fit me though darlin-."
He cuts his sentence, short eyes growing wider by the second. You and Eddie look over at each other, smiling from ear to ear.
"Is this what I think it is?." Wayne questioned with tears threatening to spill over his lashes.
"Yep we're having a baby." Eddie moved to wrap an arm over your shoulder and pulling into his side.
"We wanted to tell you first." You choked back a sob.
Wayne still gathering his thoughts. He's holding the small onesie in his hand like he's already holding your newborn baby.
"I-I'm gonna be a grandpa?" Wayne wiped at his eyes. His was starting to become overwhelmed.
Here come the tears from Eddie now. His eyes swelling up and nose turning red. He's never seen Wayne this over come with emotions before. The only time he's ever seen him like that is when his dad started his usual mess. That was always just out of anger and frustrations mostly. This was pure joy and happiness. Wayne has always wanted the best for his nephew.
"We're thinking of naming them, Ozzy." Eddie tried to joke and lighten the mood.
Wayne couldn't say anything but only shake his head at nephew. He cleared his throat, grabbing napkins from the dispenser on the table.
"We are not." You spoke up, wiping your eyes.
Your food finally came, and the waitress gave all three of you a concerned look. A table full of adults bawling their eyes out is a cause of concern. Especially in this town. It was only when she noticed the tiny onesie folded up neatly beside wayne on the table, did her worry look drop. She mumbled a soft aww and set everyone's food down.
"Congratulations to all of you." She said with a warm smile.
The rest of the night went on like normal. Except now instead of Wayne fussing at Eddie for not eating healthy. He was doing that to both of you. Telling you how you need to order seconds because you're eating for two. Informing Eddie how the trailer needs to be baby proofed immediately. The only thing left to do was tell your parents next and his friends. You can only assume which of the two is going to freak out the most.
You leaned over and whispered to Edde, "You wanna tell Dustin next ooooor-?"
He side eyed you. " We're telling your parents next - if it makes you feel better, I'll be on the phone so they can yell at me instead."
"Deal?" Eddie leaned back in the booth, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He was busy focusing on Wayne's ranting and your concerns about telling your parents.
You sighed, dreading that phone call, but knowing it needs to be done. "deal."
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x you#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#dad!eddie munson#eddie munson x pregnant!reader
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Game over
best friend gamer boy e.m.
blurb request: congrats on 5k my angel 🥺 you deserve it. 🍒 but i was hoping to request a little blurbie with best friend gamer eddie (your gamer eddie series was so good I love him) and we’re just tired of him playing his game while we’re over so we find a way to distract him 🤭 (or whatever else your sexy brain comes up with tbh hehe) by @reidsbtch
authors note: thank you so so much baby girl, I love you and hope you like this smutty little treat <3
picture credit: @eddiemunsons-missingnipple
18+ mdni contains smut
“C’mon Ed’s, I came over to hang out, not watch you play your dumb games.” You huff out as you cross your arms over your chest in irritation.
“I said one more round!” Eddie shouts as he gets his ass kicked in some fantasy game you couldn’t bother remembering the name of.
“You said one more round, five rounds ago!” You growl as your head falls back against the couch.
“Jesus, would you shut up and let me concentrate.” Your best friend grumbles as his spread legs part even further, causing your eyes to fall on his lap and the very prominent imprint of his dick that could be seen through the blue Jean fabric.
the extent of ever seeing Eddie’s little friend okay scratch that big friend from what you could tell, was the few times you swam in lovers lake together and he wore his plaid boxers that had a big enough hole to fit your entire hand into. It had poked out a few times and to be honest, well you’ll give him the benefit of the doubt because it was extremely cold that day. But, sitting here and looking at his dick print has you reevaluating everything you have assumed about your best friend’s junk thus far.
“You really want me to shut up?” You ask with husky flirtation, a smirk taking over your face as an idea hits you. It could only go one of two ways, either eddie would tell you to get the fuck off of him or he’ll welcome it, tell you to keep going, don’t stop. The possibility of hearing those words leave your best friend’s lips outweighed the negative.
“Mhm, I need you real quiet right now, princess. See I’m trying to kills those fuckin’ gu— w-what are you doing?” He stammers, taking his eyes off the screen for the first time since you walked into his trailer. You had moved quick, making yourself comfortable between his spread legs.
Your knees dig into the rough carpet as you look up at him, his big glossy eyes as wide as saucers.
“Well what does it look like I’m doing, silly? If you need me to be quiet, I’m gonna need something to fill my mouth up with.” You send him a sweet smile before rubbing your face over the imprint in his jeans.
“Hol- uh, um, fuck. You wanna um, put my dick in your mouth? Is—is that what you’re asking me right now?” He chokes on his words as his game awaits, long forgotten as the words “game over” flash across the screen.
“Yes, eddie I’m asking you to put my mouth to good use.” You breathe through your nose as your impatience grows, while you continue to rub your face on his bulge, feeling it twitch with want underneath you.
“Okay, I’m sorry I have to just ask one more time. You wanna suck my dick?” He asks again in bewilderment, his eyebrows furrow as if he’s holding back from doing exactly what he really wants, he has to be sure that this isn’t some fucked up joke.
“If you don’t pull your cock out in five seconds, I’m leaving.” You say as a stoic look falls onto your face, and you back away from his center, putting way too much space between you both for Eddie’s liking.
“Okay, okay. Fuck, I’m going.” He huffs with half exasperation and half excitement.
“There’s a good boy.” You purr, moving your face back towards his dick. You begin licking his growing cock through the fabric, getting it nice and wet before spitting on it, your saliva darkening his jeans from light to dark blue as you begin to spread the wetness around in circles with your middle finger, over what you assume to be his tip.
Eddie shudders as he pulls his zipper down, the way you’re practically sucking him through his jeans feels fucking phenomenal already, and the good boy has him feeling so needy.
He finally wrestles with his jeans and boxers, quickly thrusting his hips up once you’ve moved away, allowing him to pull them down. He lets his full balls plop out over the fabric. His hard cock is now exposed to the open air of his trailer and his balls sit there all big, mouth watering and tempting as hell.
“Oh my god!” You exclaim with wide eyes, they cross as you take in the way it stands straight up, his pink tip glistening while a large purple vein runs along his shaft. You wanna follow it with the tip of your tongue, so you do.
“Hnng, oh fuck!” Eddie groans, already feeling too close to the edge.
“You’re so big ed’s.” You say as you stroke his ego and his cock at the same time.
“Am I?” He asks, but there’s no real question behind it.
You take the tip of his cock in your mouth, sucking off all the precum and moaning when it coats your tongue.
You work him down inch by inch, eventually reaching your throat but to Eddie’s surprise you don’t gag, not one bit and he just knows he’s in for a wild ride.
“Go ahead eddie, play your game while my mouths occupied. Ya’ know, so you can concentrate?” You giggle deviously, knowing there’s no way in hell he’ll be able to pay attention to anything other than you.
#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic
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Give meee: an Eddie who went into a small little bookshop on an Indie trip and stumbled across an in person fandom meeting.
It's mostly Star Trek, and also mostly women, but the stories they have are nothing like Eddie's ever read.
He's barely a teenager, and already protective of himself and his real identity--but everything he's ever wanted is written down, right here, on a little zine with Kirk and Spock doodled on the cover.
They’re not--it’s not obvious, that they’re what he is, but the story itself is blatant and Eddie ends up being so obviously close to tears, he accidentally outs himself without ever saying a word.
(He also ends up on the mailing list, then being sent home with several hand printed copies of all kinds of zines.)
Eddie would remain on this list well past his third senior year in high school.
Past bats, and Vecna and Steve fucking Harrington.
Flash forward to his first apartment.The tiny one he shares with Steve when they followed Nancy and Robin to college.
Steve knows Eddie’s gay.
Or rather, Steve has been told, but Eddie's still pretty clammed up about it. He's not yet where Robin is, ready to bemoan her loveless existence while draped over their crappy, thrifted couch.
He makes jokes and he flirts and he absolutely says things he shouldn't, but none of it is real.
It's flash. Showmanship.
It's the persona that yes, is him, but Eddie consciously built it. There’s nothing soft or gooey there, nothing anyone can use to hurt him.
So when he comes home and sees that plain, padded envelope with the neatly printed label on the counter, torn wide open and flat without its contents?
Eddie panics.
His heart thunders in his chest, vision tunneling as adrenaline kicks through him.
He wants to bolt-- should bolt--except ever since he almost died his brain no longer obeys him.
Not when it comes to running, anyway.
Instead it fights him to a standstill, freezing his feet right to the living room floor.
The urge is still there.
To run, and save face the cowards way.
Vanish before Steve could get at a part of him that had once kept Eddie out of Wayne’s trailer for two days, until the old man had hunted him down and made him come home, huffing about how he’d love Eddie no matter what but he better never disappear like that again.
(Which Eddie did anyway, and of everything that happened with Vecna, it’s that he regrets the most. The stories he heard of Wayne putting up posters. Squaring off with angry, too-righteous townies, and--)
A sniffle jerks him out of his thoughts.
Eddie gasps, entirely unsure of when he stopped breathing. Stumbles back and turns, right in time for Steve to come out of his room and amble down their hallway.
One hand rubs at his eyes, and the other is--the other has…
Eddie identifies the cheaply printed, stapled zine immediately. It's one he's wanted to read for a while now, solely because it features a story about Kirk and Spock being stuck in a cave together on a planet that has bat-like, vicious animals on it.
Kirk gets bitten after something goes wrong with the transporter and, look, it’s carthiatic okay!? Sue a guy for wanting to read a romance about a situation he identifies with!
Steve looks up from the zine and startles.
For a second his eyes go dark and flat, the same way Eddies and Robins and Nancy's and everyone's does when caught off guard.
It's gone in a flash though, Steve visibly relaxing when he clocks that it's just Eddie.
He keeps the zine pressed to his sweater clad chest, and huffs out a laugh that's half forced and half pure relief.
“Fuck Eds, you scared me! I didn’t know you could be quiet.”
“Uh huh.” Eddie manages, voice sounding totally and absolutely normal and not at all ten octaves higher than it usually is.
They stare at each other for a second. Long enough that Steve's eyebrows crinkle in the middle, which is the first hint that he’s beginning to worry, and Eddie really cannot handle Steve being worried right now.
“What's--” Eddie’s voice cracks and he coughs to recover. “what's that?”
Steve frowns at him for a moment, until Eddie gestures at the zine in his hands.
“Oh!”
Steve holds it up, as if to show it off.
“It's a little book Robin got in the mail. It has a bunch of stories in it. They're normally boring as fuck but this one's from Star Trek.”
Hearing the words ‘Star Trek’ out of Steve’s mouth shouldn’t be weird, not anymore, when Eddie and Dustin have been on a two man mission to nerdify Harrington as much as possible, but it still kicks like a mule to hear him say such things without any prompting.
“You know what Star Trek is?”
“Eddie,” Steve tuts, tongue clicking in his mouth. “everyone knows what Star Trek is. It’s nerd shit, but like, old nerd shit. My grandparents used to watch it when I stayed over. This?”
He shakes the zine, so hard Eddie wants to snatch it away from him.
“This isn't nerd shit. This is excellent.”
Steve gives the zine an appreciative glance and hell, maybe Eddie accidentally walked into another dimension.
He’s been trying to get Steve to read more, rediscover the joys of books the public school system does its best to destroy, but until now Steve hasn’t really taken to it.
Enjoys when Eddie reads aloud sometimes, and has started to bug Robin to do it for him too, but otherwise?
Eddie’s nerve seen him with anything that had the written word on it that wasn’t a cooking or car related magazine.
“Honestly,” Steve’s saying, “I think Robs fucked up, this isn't her style at all. She’s gonna be pissed.”
He eyes the thing appreciatively, like the gift it is.
“I'm stealing it the second she figures that out.” He adds decisively.
“You like it?” Eddie asks.
“Mmm.”
“Even though it's--it's got…Kirk…”
Steve's frowning at him again. “What?”
“It's queer man. It's really queer.”
Steve peers at him, the crinkle back in his eyebrows.
“I know. Wait, how do you--”
And well. It’s now or never.
“It's mine.” Eddie says in a rush.
“No it's not.” Steve scoffs, and okay, maybe this is a dream. Eddie pinched himself twice already, but perhaps a third time would wake him up?
(It does not.)
“it was even addressed to Robin. Well,” Steve has one hand on a hip now, his default position when arguing, “Robbie, but she goes by that sometimes.”
Which Robin does, but not in the fucking mail.
Without a word, Eddie turns and goes for the envelope the zine came in.
Steve follows, invading Eddie’s space to peer over his shoulder (and that’s Eddie’s fault too, that closeness, but he didn’t think it would be turned on him in a moment like this--)
There's a sticker on the envelope’s label.
It’s barely hanging on, half of it curled into the air. Round and yellow, with little black lines, it becomes immediately obvious that one of Robin's smiley face stickers has migrated again.
They're all over the apartment. Remnants of a phase she went through after she stole a roll of them from her and Steve’s job at a local toy store.
This one had clearly jumped ship from its original spot (likely on the ceiling somewhere), and was now firmly over the E in Eddie's name.
‘Ddie’ still isn't exactly ‘Obbie’ but--
Steve leans around, snatching the envelope up and bringing it close to his face.
Far too close, like he can't read it, eyes squinting as he examines the label--and suddenly Eddie knows exactly what happened.
He laughs, an explosion of noise that's half hysterical and half disbelief.
Steve looks at him.
“What?”
“Oh my God,” Eddie says, one finger jabbing in the air in the vague direction of Steve’s nose. “I told you you needed glasses!”
“I do not!” Steve protests immediately, but his eyes are darting around the envelope.
He’s scrambling to figure out what Eddie’s seeing, trying desperately to find a hole that can prove himself right.
Eddie decides to help him, by plucking the smiley sticker off the envelope.
“See?” He jeers, and shit okay, maybe his life isn’t over just yet. “It says Eddie, not Robbie!”
“You guys have got to start using your government names for this shit.” Steve bitches, but it’s weak.
Eddie feels a grin coming on, and lets it overtake his face.
“So...Kirk and Spock huh?”
“They’re cute.” Steve defends instantly, before sighing his defeat and tossing the envelope on the table.
The zine he keeps in his hands.
Eddie crosses his arms and leans against their rickety table. “Even though they’re both guys?”
“I thought we were past this!” Steve whines. “I went to a gay bar with Robin last weekend!”
Which is news to Eddie.
“You didn’t invite me?” He gasps, feigning hurt by putting a hand over his heart.
Truthfully he still hasn’t fully recovered--is play acting himself, almost, but is rapidly coming around to the idea of Steve appreciating queer fanfiction.
“We did!” Steve rolls his eyes so dramatically his whole head moves. “We absolutely did, You said,”
Here Steve’s voice pitches into a mockery of Eddie’s that he will not give him points for, even if it is a little hilarious, “Me? At some loser bar? Fuck no, I’ve got a campaign to write. Starbuck, don’t you have homework?”
“I didn’t know that was a gay bar!”
“You did! Robin told you!”
“Okay well, I wasn’t listening!”
“Clearly. I keep telling you we need a fucking--system or, I don’t know, a code word or something!”
“Yeah well, when you wanna make us a safe word for conversations, big boy, you let me know.”
They’re both laughing a little now, this argument veering into familiar territory, with Eddie not really listening and Steve mocking him for it later. (As well as vice versa, with startling regularity.)
“You really like it though?” Eddie says after the laughter winds down, gesturing to the zine still clutched in Steve’s hand.
“Yeah.” Steve confirms, easy as he’s said anything else. Like this isn’t embarrassing, or almost worse than the time Wayne found Eddie’s porno mags and alphabetized them as a joke.
“It's part of a mail tree. I’m supposed to send it on to the next person when I’m done with it. I make copies though,” Eddie rushes to add, because Steve is now clutching the little booklet to his chest in horror, as if Eddie was about to rip it out of his hands. “If you like I’ll show you my other ones?”
Steve eases his grip, giving Eddie the little smile he makes that makes his stomach flip.
“That’d be cool.”
(Later, Steve pokes at Eddie’s thigh from where they’re both sprawled on Eddie’s bed, Steve having switched the new zine out for one of Eddie’s copies. “Are you going to laugh at me if I ask you to read some of these aloud?”
“Only if you don’t laugh when I ask you to take me to that gay bar.”
“Deal, but on the grounds you’re barred from making fun of my flirting attempts. Robin doing it was bad enough.”
“Well you deserve it if you’re hitting on women at a gay bar, Stevie.”
“I wasn't hitting on women you asshole.” Steve says and oh.
Oh.
Eddie feels the floor drop out from under him for the second time that day.
At least this time it’s not fear that thunders through him, but possibility.)
#steddie#pre steddie#eddie reads star trek slash fiction#kirk/spock#mentioned anyway lol#Steve Harringtons Terrible Fucking Eyesight#(me too buddy me too)#steve harrington#eddie munson#zines#0o0 fanfics#stranger things
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Steve hates to ask this of Eddie.
Really, it’s a last resort sort of thing. Robin’s gone for the week, some trip upstate with her family. And it’s fine, they’re close but Steve’s a big boy. He can handle a week without his best friend.
But, well, it’s just unfortunate for it to creep up on Steve when Robin’s gone. It being… shit, how did Robin explain it? She was so much better at keeping track of all those things than he was, all the terms filed away nicely in her head to be recalled as needed. Steve’s much messier— in his head, in his life.
Touch aversion, that’s what she called it. A by-product of the severe lack of touch in his childhood she had said; not enough hugs, hand holding, the works and now Steve’s grown to find it too strange. Something prickles under his skin, pulls in his gut all the wrong way, when someone’s too touchy-feely with him. Robin’s said it’s normal, and he believes her.
It just makes it harder when this comes by. That completely strange backward want that carves into his chest, creating a chasm that just aches. Suddenly, Steve wants to be touched, needs to be touched — like something behind his ribs is just begging for comfort in the form of touch, any way he can have it. Like some young part of him can still remember the hunger he had for it and it comes back in full force, a tender wound between his lungs.
It doesn’t happen that often — though, it’s more frequent than ever recently — but usually, Robin’s here. She can almost always tell before Steve works up the courage to ask. Twitchy fingers give him away. He hovers closer than normal, shoulders brushing more often.
She always gives him a smile, softer than her usual snark and says, “C’mere, dingus.” and stands on her tip-toes to envelope him in a hug. Steve can’t help but sink into it, gripping her close around the waist for as long as he needs until the hole in his chest feels a step closer to patching up.
Robin also tells him he can have as many hugs as he’d like but Steve is firm with himself; he only needs one, then he’ll be back to fine.
It what’s he needs now. One really fucking good hug. Still, he hates to ask, least of all from Eddie, because, well— okay, Steve has no reason to assume Eddie wouldn’t give him a hug.
He’s seen Eddie’s hugs before. Like everything he does, Eddie puts his everything into it- he hugs Robin til she wheezes, loves to lift Nancy off the ground, and the hug he gives Dustin is sweetest of all, a hand on the back of the littler’s head while he does some strange little sway. Dustin always laughs, playfully shoving him away by the end but Steve knows he loves them, that it helps in more than one way.
Steve is glad that Dustin has someone, besides his Mom of course, who can hug him, because Steve can’t give that to him. Maybe one day, but for now, hugs from Steve are a rarity — few and far in between. Maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t want to ask Eddie specifically because of that niggling feeling that comes up around Eddie, all gooey and soft. A feeling the swings too close to a crush that Steve has no fucking clue what to do about.
So, he hates to ask. Really. On the drive over to Eddie’s, a hangout organised before Steve started to feel the lack of touch creep in, he runs through any other options. Wait til Robin gets back? Steve’s not sure he’ll make it another 4 days. When left alone, it seems to consume him and make everything harder, everything heavier to deal with.
He’s still tossing it when he climbs the steps to Eddie’s trailer. Steve decides that he’ll see how it goes, see if there’s an opening to ask…semi-naturally or something. He’s not gonna spring it on the guy.
Eddie is wonderful company as always, devilish grins and god-awful comments about the film he picked. Steve feeds off it, drinking in the infectious energy. He tries to let it be enough; their shoulders pressed together, Eddie’s knee knocking his when he laughs, the way Eddie leans into his space to whisper even though it’s just them here tonight. Steve wants it to be enough. But even then, he can see the way his hands twitch in his lap, desperate for more.
Steve closes his eyes. Curls his hands up so tightly his nails bite into the skin. He tries to use it to wane off the feeling, the ache that sings out for Eddie beside him and it nearly works. Until—
“Steve? Y’okay?” Eddie’s voice pipes up, making Steve open his eyes in an instant.
“Hm?” Steve hums, hoping that his casualness will be enough for Eddie to skip over his peculiar behaviour. He blinks, tilting his head just a bit to show he was confused why Eddie was asking.
Eddie chuckles lightly, gesturing towards Steve’s lap, where his hands sit still clenched, white knuckled with his self-restraint. “You seem a bit stiff, that’s all.” Eddie rechecks. “You good?”
Steve opens his mouth and then closes it, forcing his hands to unclench in his lap. “I-“ he begins, then stops, unsure of what he was going to say. He did say he would look for an opening tonight. The way Eddie’s regarding him, open faced with his concern, is as good as he might get.
“This might sound a bit weird,” Steve starts, defensiveness already tingeing the words, his shoulders curling in just a bit. Eddie could say no. He’s allowed to say no. Steve really doesn’t want him to. “Like, if you think it’s weird, that’s totally fine and we can just, like, forget I said anything and—”
“Steve.” Eddie cuts him off, a linger of an amused smile on his lips. “I don’t think I’m going to find anything you say weird, sweetheart. Shoot. What’s on your mind? What troubles the great mind of Steve Harrington?”
God, it’s like a whole bunch of words designed to set Steve’s head spinning. ‘The great mind of Steve Harrington’ makes him want to scoff. ‘Sweetheart’ makes him want to swoon. He can’t decide which one he wants to do more.
“Can I-” Steve stammers, the words halting automatically. It’s too much of a habit to swallow them down. Coercing them out takes more work. He stares up at the ceiling as he grits his teeth, releases a harsh sigh, pulling himself together. “Can I… have a hug?”
There a moment of silence and Steve holds his breath.
“Oh,” Eddie breathes, and Steve takes his eyes off the ceiling to see just what that Oh means. Eddie’s smiling, a soft one gracing his pretty mouth, and Steve thinks, maybe, one day he’ll have the courage to ask for a kiss as well. Relief moves sluggishly through his veins— Eddie’s smiling, this is good.
“Well, of course,” Eddie grins widely and opens his arms, inviting Steve in. Steve hesitates for only a moment before he leans in gratefully, his arms tucking around Eddie’s midriff tightly. Eddie’s arms curl around Steve’s neck, pulling him in close. It’s the easiest thing in the world, sinking into it, so much that Steve tries his best not to immediately slump against Eddie. It feels a bit too pathetic, so Steve reels himself in. He can’t make his arms relax, trying too hard to take only what he needs and not a moment more.
“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice teases beside his ear, his breath warm. “You call that a hug?”
He squeezes Steve a little tighter, pulling him even closer and Steve can’t help the way he melts into it— he slumps, leaning against Eddie properly and burying his quiet whine of relief into the juncture between Eddie's neck and shoulder.
“There we go,” Eddie murmurs comfortingly.
Eddie takes him wholly, gives a damn good Munson hug, all warmth and comfort. He smells like, well, Eddie — a lingering scent of weed, something musky, something Eddie. His arms around Steve’s neck shuffle and Steve worries he’s trying to pull away so soon, only for one of his hands to tangle in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. He combs through, light fingernails scratching at Steve’s scalp and shit, Steve really can’t control the noise of contentment that slips out his throat.
“Can’t believe you got so worked up just to ask for a hug,” Eddie tsks, tone coloured in disbelief. Steve makes a noise of protest, trying for a moment to wind it all back in but, like Eddie can sense it, he’s squeezing him tighter again. He begins to rock them, a soft sway side to side that lets Steve lean on him even more. He hums a tune Steve doesn’t know, low and soft.
“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles in reply, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for. For having to ask, for taking so much, for enjoying Eddie’s arms around him just a little too much.
“What the fuck for?” Eddie laughs lightly, one of his hands beginning to drum against the divots of Steve’s spin. It feels like he’s tapping pure delirium with each fingertip, shivers that make Steve’s chest glow terribly warm. It feels good, so good to be held and honestly, Steve could stay here all night if Eddie let him. Knowing Eddie, he would, because he’s that fucking nice.
That knowledge alone forces Steve to sit himself up, extracting him limbs even though so much of him mourns the warmth, the touch, that goes with it. He wants the touch but he’s had enough. Some scorned part of him burns bitterly to think Eddie would give him more just to be nice. Steve doesn’t want that— Steve wants Eddie to touch him because he wants to.
“Sorry, man, I just, uh, get like that sometimes.” Steve feels the need to explain, bringing a hand up to rub at one of his eyes. He does it half so can hide his embarrassed expression from Eddie— who’s looking at him so gently and still so so close.
“Just, aha—“ Christ, it wasn’t this awkward telling Robin. Steve’s hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile since,” He gnaws on his bottom lip, something alike to humiliation curling in his gut. “Since I’ve had some touch. Usually, Robin’s around but y’know.”
He waves a hand, huffing another awkward laugh. Eddie hasn’t moved much, just listening intently, his brows ever so slightly inching closer together. He looks outright concerned at Steve’s next words.
“It’s okay, I’ve— I’ll be good now.” Steve nods along, like the motion will help him convince himself as well as Eddie. He’ll be okay now. Usually, one hug is all it takes. He ignores the surging tidal-wave want that is still going, still aching to be held by Eddie again. It would be selfish to ask for more. Eddie didn’t invite him around to hug— it’s weird, and Steve shouldn’t- can’t ask for more.
“Sooooo,” Eddie draws out the word, an impish smile beginning to play at the corners of his lips. He opens his arms wide again. “You don’t want another hug?”
In his lap, Steve’s fingers twitch. Eddie’s eyes dart to them for a second, before fixing back on Steve. He does, he really fucking does want another hug. He can’t. He’s had enough, really, it would greedy to have more.
Steve shakes his head, forces himself to huff another laugh that accidentally comes out as a strained sigh. He smiles weakly, “No, no, I’m good, dude. It’s… I’m okay, swear.”
For a moment, Steve thinks he’s convinced him. Eddie studies his face, his mischief slipping away as he deliberates Steve’s words. His eyes narrow, arms dropping just an inch before he smiles brightly and says, “Okay, can I have a hug then?”
Which, okay, right, Steve didn’t think of that. People don’t ask him for hugs. He blinks, a bit dumbly. Eddie is waiting, face eager and for a second there’s an expression of almost smugness on his face — like he’s about to get exactly what he wants. Because he knows Steve would never be rude and say no.
“I mean,” Steve breathes, voice a bit tighter than he’s expecting. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah, you can have a hug.”
“Great!” Eddie replies and he wastes no time. He’s all up in Steve’s space, arms around Steve’s waist this time. The motion takes Steve by surprise, enough that because he’s not expecting it Eddie’s weight pushes him back so he’s lying on the couch.
If Eddie cares, he pays no mind, his head curling up into the crook of Steve’s neck as he hugs him closer. His hair gets in Steve’s mouth, making him splutter for a second, but Eddie just grins, wriggling closer until they’re pressed firmly against each other. Steve would go as far as to say this is closer to cuddling than a hug, with Eddie squishing him from above, his arms around Steve’s middle.
“Just so you know,” Eddie’s voice rumbles from where their chests are touching, his breath sweeping across Steve’s neck. Steve shivers without meaning to, feels Eddie’s responding grin even as he continues. “All hugs requested by me are automatically 10 minutes long. Hope you’re okay with that, sweetheart.”
Steve isn’t stupid — he knows Eddie is doing it for him, doing it because he could see right through Steve’s stupid facade, had peered his yawning hunger for touch right in the face and hadn’t blanched. Instead of feeling tricked or fooled, Steve just feels…warm. Comfortable. He works his arms around Eddie’s neck til their more comfortable and find the courage in him scrape his fingers through Eddie’s hair— like he had done to Steve. Eddie’s sighs sweetly and Steve thinks he could listen to that noise forever.
“I’m… I’m okay with that.” Steve murmurs lowly, yet he knows Eddie can hear him. Eddie noses closer, a borderline nuzzle against his neck, and further down, one his hands starts to stroke softly up and down Steve’s ribs.
Steve can’t help the way it makes him freeze, the breath in his lungs holding tight as he tries to relax, tries to ignore the prickly feeling under his skin. It’s a lot. A lot of touch that Steve just isn’t used to just yet, even if he desperately craves it.
“Relax,” Eddie whispers into his skin, a soft instruction paired with the motion, one soothing stroke up and down his ribs. Steve pushes the breath in his lungs out, forces the tension out of his body, trusts that Eddie wouldn’t be offering— wouldn’t tell him to relax if he wasn’t allowed to.
“That’s it.” Eddie praises, feeling the body beneath him settle and sink a little lower into the couch. “Now, watch the movie.” Eddie instructs, jutting at the still playing screen with his chin. Steve laughs a bit, but obeys, turning his head to see what part they’d gotten up to. They’d missed a big chunk in their hug. Steve nearly apologises for it, the words on the tip of his tongue, before he decides Eddie might smack him for it.
So, he doesn’t. He watches the film, let’s the gentle touch of Eddie on his skin relax him til sleepiness starts to fill each of his limbs, heavy like lead. Eddie’s hand stops moving eventually, when his breath gets heavier, lulled by Steve’s scratch in his hair. A snore starts up, loud and quite frankly, annoying, and yet, Steve finds that with Eddie’s arms around him, he has no trouble finding sleep.
It’s the first time in years Steve’s fallen asleep in someone else’s arms. And even if he doesn't know it yet, it’s certainly not the last.
now with a part two!
#woag yearning hours bro#[into a megaphone] if u project onto steve harrington put ur hands UP#i literally came home tonight like. hm might have to ask one of my flatmates for a hug#and when they go ??? whats wrong (cos this bitch never hugs)#i was fully prepared 2 be like o it has just been too long since someone touched me haha!#like thats not zeeeeeeeee most pathetic shit ever (pathetic if its me. not if its YOU)#anyways. steve get hug where ruby cannot#<3#eddie would give delicious hugs u can't change my mind#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie#steve x eddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#touch starved steve harrington#that bitch needs a hug#ruby writes steddie#i rlly. came home and was like BLEH feeling dump and its like 2.6k. ok girl
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Tom Blyth being really fucking obsessed with actress!Reader, like constant physical contact, many kisses, maybe some moments on set? I love your writing 💖
"Oh, the lovebirds."
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.
summary: another compilation between you and tom? we have!
word count: 538!
notes: thank you for requesting this, anon and i hope you know that i love you and beg you to request more ideas!
"See them over there?" — Recording and switching the camera to frontal mode, Rachel pointed to you and Tom sitting under the tree, in the forest setting, together. — "Two lovebirds in love." — Tom's arm was around your shoulder, he was saying something that was, technically, impossible to identify, but then he left a long kiss on your forehead. — "Look!"
Rachel saved that video with a triumphant, happy smile on her face in an album she had made specifically for behind the scenes and it was the thousandth video of you and Tom that she had saved. — The first and biggest fan of both of you.
It wasn't difficult, and not at all complicated, to find behind-the-scenes photos of 'The ballad of songbirds and snakes'; so soon, it wasn't hard to see photos and videos of you and Tom together on set. — So much for you posting and Rachel too.
There were videos where he put Coriolanus' peacemaker helmet on you; your hands between his rough and cut hair, commenting on the possibility of him temporarily turning blonde;; a photo they took of him and him lying on the grass. — Several moments recorded, captured and saved with lots of love.
Also, the small and peculiar fact that you left written messages or just heart symbols on paper, sometimes torn up, for each other. — Hunter thought this was cute, and she even helped Tom put one of them in your trailer.
In every interview, to repeat, in every interview, Tom always tries to be in contact with you; mainly, the physical. — It doesn't matter if your chair is a little far from his, or if you or he are on the other side of the row. — Nothing can stop that man.
The cameras record, with attention and great focus, Tom holding your hand while you answered questions from the interviewer, who was also watching, and admiring the rings that were present on your fingers; and that some were gifts from him. — If Tom had the opportunity, he would never let go of you.
He contemplated carefully; distributing affection with his fingers on your hand and your palm, at certain moments, even tickling you and, sometimes during the interviews, a brief laugh accompanied your words.
And every time it happens, that passionate smile wrapped in such a strong emotion curves on Blyth's lips.
Well, it's not just the contacts and touches between your hands that are captured by cameras and the watchful eyes of fans; Tom's arm resting on the back of your chair, your leg touching his, your head on his shoulder and once again Tom's hand resting on your knee. — You looked like a pair of magnets.
Oh, and not to mention, a moment from an interview, another one from Vogue to be a little specific, in which Tom removes one of the rings that was on his fingers, the one that is always on his pinky, and decided to put it on your finger. — God, your fans went completely crazy on all social media, especially on Twitter. — It wasn't so perfect, in the right measure, but you didn't remove it in any way.
During the premieres, several photos with you kissing Tom's cheek and him kissing your hand, like a knight, spread across networks and even on the film's official accounts. — And Rachel commented on all of them. — And the photos that show Tom's hands on your waist, holding you so gently accompanied by such a sweet and intimate look and following you wherever you went became your favorites.
Flashes and snippets of interviews, videos of Tom's hand on your back, helping you with your long dress and him brushing some locks out of your face while you answered questions. — Even the interviewers smiled witnessing those acts.
And there's always a like from Tom Blyth on Instagram posts of these photos.
#tom blyth#tom blyth x reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus#snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus imagine#the hunger games#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas
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multiples.
eddie munson x fem!reader
“Multiple? Multiple what?”
cw: smut blurb about eddie making sure you arrive properly. ref to period pain, fingering, oral (m & f receiving)
2.7k 18+ MDNI
Eddie has a problem.
No, no, no—not a problem. That makes it sound like there was some issue he had to resolve or a task he had to complete. This is more delicate than that. A conundrum, maybe? A dilemma? Whatever he called it, it had consumed him for weeks now. And it boiled down to one thing:
He was pretty sure you weren’t coming.
At first, it was difficult to put a finger on what exactly was throwing him off.
When the two of you got together, he was thrilled. Like, running through the streets naked, jumping on top of moving cars, Wilhelm screaming, over the goddamn moon kind of thrilled. He’d been into you since forever and had always felt totally comfortable around you. You were hilarious and cool and probably definitely the smartest person he knew, easy—not that the rest of his friends were like Rhodes scholars or anything.
Still, it kind of blew him away that someone like you was actually interested in him.
The longer you saw one another and the closer you got, he only liked you more and more. Then you guys started doing stuff and he sort of kind of lost his fucking mind. He’d never been with a person that felt so much like home; someone he felt like he could spend forever with, if you’d only have him. And the sex was…unbelievable.
You let your bodies have long, in-depth conversations that lasted into the night and then picked right back up again in the early morning. He hadn’t ruined this many sets of sheets since he was a snot-nosed pre-teen first discovering the loving embrace of his own fist. But as the fog of your initial sex haze dissipated, he couldn’t shake this one thought that kept coming back.
He didn’t want to toot his own horn or anything, but Eddie had it on pretty good authority he was above average when it came to making girls arrive. And with you…
Well, it was just different.
You were pretty quiet, for one. Which was kind of odd, considering how brash and brazen you could be normally. Eddie thought maybe you were just more subdued during sex. Sometimes it was the quietest, most mousy-looking girls who rattled his trailer roof the hardest. So maybe the reverse was also true? And there was nothing wrong with that, if it was. Just because he was vocal in bed, it certainly didn’t mean he expected you to be.
But when you came—or rather, when you said you were—it just didn’t quite feel like he expected.
He was no expert, mind you. But after having dealt so much in theatricality and role play, he’d developed quite an ear for insincerity. And you are anything but insincere.
When he had you pinned underneath him, his hips snapping as he drove you into the mattress, the way you squirmed and writhed and squeezed around him was pure fucking bliss. But then, just when he thought he was getting you going, you would be wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him in close so he could hear your heated whisper.
“Gonna come for me, beautiful?” he’d ask, his hand dipping between your bodies to rub at your clit. You’d nod, almost too blissed out to speak.
“I did, I did,” you told him, more breath than words. “I came already—I wanna feel you.”
And, well, when you say it like that…it’s all he can do not to blow his load on the spot.
It’s not that he doesn’t believe you. He just thinks maybe you don’t know what it feels like to really come. So it’s not that you’re faking—something is definitely happening down there—it’s just not an orgasm. At least not a decent one.
At least not one he wants to claim.
Considering the guys you’d dated, he’s not all that surprised. They all sounded like losers who worried about themselves first and only. Dumb jerks who thought their dicks were magic wands that made girls come as soon as they set foot in the lobby. He didn’t want to be like them.
He wanted to take you to the fucking penthouse.
But it’s tricky. He can’t just bring up something like this, can he? He doesn’t want to offend you. He doesn’t want you thinking he’s saying there’s something wrong with you. Because of course there isn’t. And he doesn’t want to keep going without you knowing what he’s trying to do.
Like he said…it’s delicate.
So the next time he had you over, he let you lead. He made no move to change your course as you kissed down his bare inked chest, over the sparse patch of hair that swirled just beneath his navel, and pulled him hot and leaking from behind his blue checkered shield. And even as his instincts screamed in protest, he let you take him into the warmth of your mouth and bob on his cock until he came—a shuddering, whining, blubbering mess as he filled your throat.
All part of the plan. All part of the plan.
It took a bit of time for him to recover and he spent every second of it loving on you—each graze of his fingers and lips leisurely, but thorough. He kissed all the parts of you he thought might have been left unattended too long: the undersides of your breasts marked by the indentations of your bra; the soft span of skin that ran along the inside of your forearm to the crease of your elbow; the sides of your ribcage that quivered at the tickle of his warm breath.
And he watched your face every step of the way, studying you until you dropped fully into that deeply relaxed state. He let his hand drift down between your legs, skimming them over the sensitive skin there, making you tremble all over in anticipation. Alright, this was it.
“Hey, baby,” he murmured, a low rumble between kisses along your collarbone.
“Yeah?”
You hummed out your reply, looking down at him with heavy lidded eyes, half gone already. It made Eddie grin, his smile all teeth.
Oh, this was gonna be fun.
“I was wondering if you’ve ever had a multiple?”
The question made your brow wrinkle and you frowned slightly. “Multiple? Multiple what?”
“Multiple orgasms,” he said with a light chuckle. “Like if I fingered you until you came and then went down on you until you came again. Made you come over, and over, and over…”
You gasped as his tongue traced the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your body.
“Can that…does that happen?” you asked with a breathy sigh. He just smiled at the adorably incredulous look on your face and nodded.
“Of course,” he said. “I think that’s like the main thing you guys have going for you in this arena. Something to make up for all the annoying shit you have to put up with from your body.”
Another chuckle makes his chest shake as he rubs a hand over your lower belly, remembering how you’d asked him once just to press on it with his strong, warm palm and offer some relief from your cramps that were particularly bad one night.
“Oh. I mean…I’ve heard that, I guess. I kind of always thought it was a joke.”
“Well, I might not get you there,” Eddie said, giving you a smile he hopes is reassuring. “And if it doesn’t feel good or it hurts or anything, just tell me and we’ll stop. No harm, no foul.”
You pinched the edge of his comforter between your fingers and tugged at it, twisting it into a little peak at your side. “That sounds…really good,” you told him quietly.
“So, I can try?” he asked, brow lifting. “It’s okay?”
“I mean, yeah…” You chewed your lip, still a little hesitant. “But what about you?”
Eddie smirked, all sly and wily as he brushed the backs of his fingers along the softness of your cheek. “We did me already,” he reminded you.
Your cheeks heated at the memory, the taste of his come still sitting warm on your tongue as you swallowed thickly. Admittedly, you’d been kind of surprised when he let you go down on him first and actually finished in your mouth. Normally he was tugging you off him as soon as he felt himself losing it, grunting out something about not wanting to go too quickly.
“Okay,” you said with a small smile. “It just seems a little unfair”
“How’s it unfair if it’s what I want?” he murmured, voice dropping back to that low rumble.
Hard to argue with that, you supposed.
A beaming smile spread across your face and you twisted your fingers in the ball chain necklace that dangled around his neck to pull him closer. You answered his question with the press of your lips against his own, inhaling a shaky breath when you pulled away. Eddie’s nose nudged against yours, mashing into the softness of your cheek to resume the kiss. His hand came up to cradle your jaw and his mouth moved in that slow, sensuous way that made your insides dance and leap and spin like an entire company of ballerinas.
The kiss itself is so dizzying, you almost forgot about Eddie’s initial intentions until you felt his fingers begin to gently glide through your soaking folds. He swallowed your little mewl of relief as two of them finally sank inside your warmth while his thumb brushed teasingly light over your clit. It doesn’t take long at all for your arousal to coat his fingers, for your body to gush for him.
“Ed, I’m…I’m coming,” you breathed out, tingling with that initial burst of pleasure.
“Thats it, baby,” Eddie nodded, going along with it one last time. “You’re doing so good for me.”
He drew a single, high moan out of you—more like a gasp of relief as your body fully relaxed and all the stiffness in your shoulders and tension in your limbs melted away. You let your head loll to the side and smiled, almost dazed with the feeling. Pride surged in his chest from the way you looked at him sometimes—so perfectly content and elated because he was all yours.
The look he gave you was rapturous as he licked his lips and started to make his way down, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake that dotted across your chest, between the valley of your breasts, down your sternum and the soft pudge of your tummy. You propped yourself up to watch him as his mop of dark curls dipped between your thighs, fingers still sitting snug inside your warm, wet walls. Your chest rose and fell with each deep breath and he could only imagine how hard your heart must be pounding for you to try and slow it like you are.
“I’m gonna try for another, okay?” he soothed. “Stay relaxed for me, beautiful.”
You nodded back and let your head drop down, sinking deep into the embrace of your pillow.
Eddie pumped his fingers a few more times, faster now and crooking them upwards in search of that spot inside you that had eluded him far too long. The deftness of his touch coupled with the eager swipes of his tongue had your body heaving now as he traced a maddening pattern, swirling side to side and weaving it through your center.
Eyes suddenly fluttering open and closed, you whined softly and squirmed in his grasp as his tongue decisively swerved away from where you needed him most. The anticipation made your hips rock into his face, chasing more of the feeling as he teased you relentlessly.
His free arm promptly wrapped around your thigh, his hand gripping at the soft flesh to keep your legs spread apart. He was deeply thorough in his exploration, nose occasionally brushing against your clit that was practically crying out for his attention. His hot breath fanned along your inner thighs and he moaned deeply with each lick so you could feel the vibrations in your core.
You lost track of how long he was down there, allowing yourself to be swept away with the riot of sensations, realizing just a little too late your body was working towards something new.
The feeling creeps up on you, trickling through your muscles, causing all of them to twitch and spasm, tensing and releasing in waves. Little whines and pants of pleasure start to spill out of your mouth, the desperate little sounds like the most beautiful music to Eddie’s ears.
It makes him grind down into the bed, desperate to hear more.
“Feel good?” he asked, brow lifting behind sweaty bangs as round doe eyes look up at you.
“So g-good,” you panted, the sound almost pained with pleasure. “So sensitive…”
“You taste like heaven, you know that?” he murmurs to your cunt. “I could do this forever.”
He genuinely could, but it seems he won’t have to. You’re getting close now. He can feel it in the way your thighs start to tremble against his ears; the way another gush of you floods across his tongue. His eyes darted sideways to where your hand rests on the blanket, flexing with the need to grab onto something. Anything.
One last time, he squeezed at the meat of your thigh and then unwrapped his arm from around it to reach out instead and thread his fingers with yours. Your grip is bone crushing and only makes him hold on tighter as he points the tip of his tongue to increase its pressure.
“E-Eddie, it feels…something feels different…”
“It’s okay, baby,” he said, the pace of his fingers never faltering. “I’ve got you, just let go.”
He wished he could bottle the look on your face. Eyes scrunched up, brow furrowed as though you were deep in concentration. Lips parted in a wanton gasp as your chest swelled. His mouth came back to your clit, resuming the motions that had you clenching around his fingers.
���Oh…ohhh my…oh, fuck…”
When he feels you starting to unravel, feels that band coiled tight in your core start to snap, it takes everything he has in him to stay the course—especially when the hand of yours he’s not holding winds into his hair and you grasp desperately at his curls. The groan it elicits from him is deep and guttural, the sound of it radiating in the room. And finally he feels it happening—your pussy spasming around his fingers, threatening to snap them clean off you’re clenching so tight; hips bucking and stomach quivering with the effort of drawing breath.
“Fuck, Eddie, don’t stop!” you cried out. “That feels so good, holy fucking shit—”
So much for being quiet, Eddie thought mischievously.
Your head is pushing back into the pillow now, back arching under you, lifting you off the bed. He’s clamped tight against you though, his lips sealed around your clit and sucking like his life depends on it. In a way, it feels like it does.
“I’m gon…I’m gonna…I’m co—”
The words dissolve into a moan, the sound of it higher and louder than anything else Eddie has drawn out of you before. Pride explodes in his chest as he finally feels what he’s been waiting for—that exquisite vice around his fingers as he continues to stroke that sacred spot.
Your body floods with the feeling, waves of it surging through you, seeing white behind your eyes that are still pinched shut. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before—every synapse firing at once, every molecule in your body exploding like a tiny firework.
Distantly, you register his voice coaxing you through it as you reluctantly return to earth. Yes, baby, that’s it, thaaaat’s it—fuck me, you’re so fucking hot when you come, Jesus fucking Christ…
You opened your eyes, blinking through bleary vision as the world came back into focus.
Eddie grinned, smile almost wolfish when he lifted himself from between your legs. Triumph flashed in his dark eyes, his gaze roving all over as he began a slow crawl up your body, his cock now standing at attention with its vigor renewed.
“Okay,” he panted, dragging his hand across his mouth and chin that were slick with your spend as he leaned in to kiss you. “That’s one.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson smut#eddie stranger things#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fanfiction#stranger things fic#stranger things smut#ok I went back over it and feel a lil better now#so if it suddenly seems longer…#that’s what she said
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Most exciting part of the trailer for the next TADC episode for you?
More so an Analysis rather than things I'm excited about X3
I watched the sneak peek on loop I can process everything! Waahh!! I'm so excited for episode 2 💞 only a few weeks away! 💕
youtube
I wanna get this out of the way, I love Lizzie Freeman and Alex Rochon's Improv work on this promo 😭 they were really put in a booth together, were told to say things to promote episode two, and came up with that 😭 Genius.
The environment work is GORGEOUS! I love the look of everything, the world-building, the colors! It looks like a full-fledged movie guys! Absolutely beautiful and WONDEROUS work from the Glitch team-- it's so beautiful for half a year of work??? God damn!!
Haha! As an in-universe creation, Despite his little gags, Caine is genuinely such a good AI to make something so cool!
You'll also notice that Ragatha is taking charge of talking with the princess! That would make sense for such fellow beautiful well-mannered women!
More on them later at the end! :3
Dream sequence theory
Also, we all agree that these ones are all part of a dream right? Pomni is panicked, the strange sort of "slow woozy wobbly" animation exactly like a dream... even the dolly zoom!
Then she is sent to the cellar with a an abstracted arm, but that shouldn't be the case since Caine could easily fix an abstracted arm with a snap of a finger.
And then she wakes up, freaked out!!
Wahaha! Shout out to the Showtime server for pointing this out while we were discussing!
This is either and "end of episode prize" from Caine, or he jumps in mid-episode to hand them a helpful item, ooorr he's telling them that that's their objective for the adventure :3
also!! people have pointed out that Zooble isn't with the carriage with the others! Either this means that Zooble was given a surprise roll in the adventure, or she's off to have a fun solo adventure with Caine! Ohh! How exciting!
Zooble is a favorite character of Goose's, so to learn more about him and why Goose loves them so much would be so exciting!!
Whats up with Jax?
hunched down, writing in the sand, hugging his knees, this topped with Goose's two-word description of the next episode to be "I"m nothing"... Oh Jax is gonna have a MOMENT...
We all know that no one likes the dude and he's going to get worse. I'm unsure if this will make me like the guy, but I'm optimistic!
I'm open to understanding and seeing another side of him that would make me like him! I already quite like how this scene is framed, how lonely he looks, the acting in these few seconds already tells me what kind of guy he is.
...despite one of the gummis being tied up in the corner
If i had to hypothesize, this probably stemmed with Jax acting out, you know, the usual "being a nuisance" to make everyone miserable,
Then It escalates
This gets on Ragatha's nerves, first starting out as a silly "haha cute interaction" between them and it escalates while the episode goes on where Ragatha genuinely gets mad at him and tells him to stay put while they do the work.
Speaking of Ragatha, She seems to be quite fond of the Princess! There is a part of me that wonders if she wants to sort of-- "prove" herself in a way, as a leader or otherwise. Ragatha does give me the "smart yet nice kid in class that everyone copies off of" energy... TwT This poor woman.
I don't know, just the way The Princess bends down and holds her hand, it's sort of sweetly mentorly or motherly in a way. I'm not saying this to infantilize Ragatha, I respect her so much as a mature 30-year-old adult, I say it as a testament to The Princesses' character. Princesses, Queens, and any sort of royalty have been characterized as the sort of "mother/father of all" sort of character type, which is sweet! And would be quite interesting!
I know that people are quick to do the shipping with these two, but I kind of like the idea of Ragatha wanting approval and validation.
BUT THATS JUST A THEORY!! A FILM THEORY!!! ANDDD CUT!!
#The amazing digital circus#Pomni#caine#zooble#gangle#kinger#Ragatha#Jax#The amazing digital circus Pomni#The amazing digital circus Caine#The amazing digital circus zooble#The amazing digital circus gangle#The amazing digital circus kinger#The amazing digital circus ragatha#The amazing digital circus jax#tadc Pomni#tadc caine#tadc zooble#tadc gangle#tadc kinger#tadc ragatha#tadc jax#GIF#gifs
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