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kikitakite · 8 hours

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I saw your callout in the Gale tag for that one user (no comment on them, tho ty for the callout bc i'd seen them in the notes of my fics) and was curious if you could elaborate on some of the Mystra incidents you described towards the end of the post? I'm new to the lore of the setting and find it hard to research (which makes sense given its importance to dnd), so I've heard a lot of conflicting things about Mystra's portrayal in the wider series. No pressure, obviously!

No problem! And yea, I've seen her arguing in the posts of a few people I follow or just Gale-related posts I find interesting. Usually I don't get involved in stuff like this, but I noticed a constant pattern and then all the homophobic shit so I went off a little.

Unfortunately it's hard to find exact examples of the Mystra lore because certain modules aren't very popular or even free to access, but if you're interested the best way to learn about her is by reading the Elminster novels. There's twelve total, dating all the way back to 1994, and they detail Elminster's adventures. I'll be honest though, some of them are a hard read and written through the lens of a man who's admitted very creative, but also has a lot of problematic ideas.

In the first book Elminster is a child. His entire town gets wiped out by mages, thereby making him hostile toward magic. He sneaks into Mystra's temple to deface her statue one night, but she appears before him and basically gaslights him into learning magic and becoming her rare Chosen. He becomes a wizard and cleric basically overnight, until eventually he multiclasses into pretty much every class type in DnD. As you can imagine a lot of players aren't too fond of Elminster, as he's a well known self-insert of the author and pretty annoying to run into during campaigns. None of my dungeon masters like him anyway.

He also becomes one of Mystra's most loyal followers, but she fucks with him over and over, turning him into a woman to teach him a lesson and SLEEPING with him in that form, berating him when he struggles with the torture he endures when he gets stuck in the hells, making him reproduce without his knowledge and getting jealous when he gives his partners more attention. Because she's a very jealous goddess, which I think the game vaguely touches on but not really.

I wish I had the time to flip through all the novels and give exact citations but the best I can do is suggest them, because they're so eye opening. She's considered a neutral good goddess, but neutral gods often do terrible things for the sake of their domain. I think it needs to be noted that Mystra, as with all gods in the pantheon, only cares about her portfolio. She isn't wrong for that, but it doesn't mean she's blameless when she messes with people's lives. She's done a lot of good but she's also made horrible decisions, especially where her followers are concerned.

For example, Elminster having children he doesn't know about. He has a daughter named Narnra. Her conception was... pretty fucked up. Basically a song dragon named Ammaratha Cyndusk was an occasional lover of Elminster's (he has a lot of those because of course he does) and she wanted to bear his child, but since he's a Chosen of Mystra he can control his fertility. Magic birth control, basically. He didn't want a kid so Ammaratha went behind his back to learn a counterspell that would make him fertile during sex. The man she asked refused to teach her because...duh that's messed up, but then Mystra intervened and told him to teach her the spell because she wanted Elminster's "seed to spread". Ammaratha never told him and neither did Mystra. No matter what the reasons, that was NOT consensual on Elminster's part, and it happened two more times, resulting in two more daughters with different women. If I remember correctly Elminster did eventually find out waaaaay later when they were all adults, but it never amounted to anything.

The sisters I was taking about are the Seven Sisters, Mystra's "daughters". And I put "daughters" in quotations because Mystra possessed the body of a woman named Elué and impregnated her without her consent. She slept with the woman's husband (again, while possessing her body) and made them sire seven children. This of course lead to Elué's death because the constant flow of magic in her body was too much for her to handle. Her grieving husband broke after she died and eventually left, abandoning his daughters and earning Mystra's scorn...as if he was in the wrong. The sisters were then orphaned and raised by foster families.

That said, most of the awful things anyone can say about Mystra were the doings of her previous incarnations so ultimately it doesn't apply to the Mystra of BG3. In fact, this third Mystra is supposed to be a new and improved goddess who's nicer to her followers. So her portrayal in BG3 annoyed a lot of DnD fans. I should also point out that Mystra has two types of fans: ones who will defend everything she does, even when it's fucked up beyond all comprehension, and the ones who will tell you she's a true neutral goddess capable of good and bad. I'm the latter. There are plenty examples of Mystra sticking her neck out for innocents, but there's also examples of her doing the most horrendous shit imaginable.

A lot of veteran players, at least the ones I know, are upset with the portrayal of Mystra in BG3 because her plan to end the Absolute is, quite frankly, stupid. Your party is the best chance anyone has of ending the threat, but she asks Gale to nuke himself and possibly tens of thousands, which makes no sense because she could've just sent her mages/clerics to deal with the problem. And there was no guarantee the bomb would've worked anyway. She put all the responsibility on one man and it DEFINITELY comes off as vindictive. That isn't out if character for her but she's not SUPPOSED to be that bad anymore. For a lot of DnD players it felt like she was reverting back to her old habits.

I think there's also a part in the game where you can directly ask Gale why she doesn't just blip the Absolute out of existence and he says something like, "She could but Ao won't allow it." That was also really strange for a lot of veteran players to hear because Gale drops Ao's name like it's nothing. Most people (especially if they're new to the franchise) wouldn't know this but most people in Faerûn don't know who Ao is! Because he wiped people's memories of his existence! I suppose it does make sense for Gale to know that name, since Mystra probably explained the pantheon to him, but it's VERY unlikely tav would know it. So during that conversation all I could picture was tav tilting their head like, "Huh? Who? Whaaa?"

And on top of that......Ao absolutely WOULD allow it because the Absolute effects the Weave and every other god! It had the potential to ruin the balance of the universe, which makes Ao a very angry boy. Balance is one of the ONLY things he cares about. The Dead Three were stealing souls and worshippers, which gods needs to survive, and dying gods disrupts the balance. It's a whole circle of chaos. So the only conclusion left for me to extrapolate is this: Mystra just really, really wanted Gale to kill himself to prove his devotion to her. Which...isn't great. Bad look for her.

It's kind of like how Raphael thinks the Crown of Karsus is going to help him end the Blood War and take over the hells. DnD players laughed during his epilogue because...no it won't lol. He doesn't stand a chance even with the crown. He's arrogant and he's gonna get slapped by his daddy and all the other archdevils, the same way Gale gets slapped by Mystra if he ascends. Even the Absolute ending of the game wouldn't last long because the gods would go to war with the Dead Three, wipe them out and rebuild Faerûn, which has happened many times in past DnD campaigns. Mystra alone has torn worlds apart and glued them back together. The main crisis of BG3 is saving the world you live in or everybody dies. For the gods it's just a Tuesday. I mean look at how Withers owns the Dead Three with a wave of his hand at the end of the game. Mystra COULD'VE killed the Absolute, just as she could've removed the orb from Gale's chest the moment it happened. She just didn't WANT to. She wanted him to die. She wanted him to chastise himself. She wanted him to suffer and come crawling back to her as an obedient follower. She wanted him to learn a harsh and honestly unfair lesson, which is a terrible throwback to her previous incarnations.

#mystra #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #elminster #dnd #dungeons and dragons #raphael

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munson-blurbs · 6 hours

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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Eddie asked you on a date. Maybe. Possibly. But you definitely accepted. (5.6k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, mentions of sex, Reader wears a miniskirt, drinking, tipsiness, idiots in love, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter ten: this foolish lover's game

“I’m telling you: it’s a date.”

Nora flicked through the items on the clearance rack, searching for something in your size. She pulled out a floral shirt, wrinkled her nose, and promptly put it back.

“It’s 1993. A guy and a girl can hang out without it being something romantic,” you retorted, trying to ignore the fuzziness that filled your head at the potential classification of your upcoming night out with Eddie as a ‘date.’

“Very true. But that’s not the case here.” Nora sighed at the limited clothing choices and at your stubbornness. She stalked over to a rack of regularly-priced skirts, evidently on a mission. “And you know it, too, which is why you asked me to help you choose a new outfit.”

You had done that, though you definitely regretted it now. It had been so long since you’d actually gone out with friends that you really did need new clothes, but you had no idea where to start.

Enter Nora: best friend extraordinaire. She was just as great at finding clothes that flatter your figure as she was at being a study buddy. Her opinion mattered to you; it was necessary, especially considering the way you currently teemed with self-doubt.

She plucked a denim miniskirt from the lineup and held it against your waist. “Go try this on,” she said. You reached for the price tag, almost certain that it was out of budget, but she clamped her hand over yours. “My treat. Now, go.”

There was no arguing with her, not while she was shooing you into the dressing room. She clasped your shoulders as she steered you towards a curtain, yanked it open, and shoved you inside. “I’ll wait here,” she said.

You closed the curtain once again, unbuttoning your shorts and letting them fall to the thin carpet below you.

The skirt hung on its hanger, buttons all along the front, and it was impossible not to imagine Eddie being the one undoing them. His nimble fingers would dance across the seam as he positioned himself between your legs. You could practically feel his hands as they crept further upwards towards that dangerously sensitive part of you—

“Can we stop by the food court when you’re done? I’m dying for one of those cinnamon pretzels.”

The sound of Nora’s voice instantly cooled your heating skin. “Y-Yeah, sure,” you stammered.

Focus on that, you silently reprimanded yourself. Focus on Auntie Anne’s or Orange Julius or Panda Express—not Eddie tracing his tongue along your inner thighs.

You stepped into the skirt, warding off any lingering Eddie-related thoughts. Monday night would be like hanging out with Nora or Ben. There was no need to worry about your hair, or your clothes, or your makeup. Eddie was a friend, and only a friend, despite what absurdities your other friends planted in your head.

With the last button fastened, you allowed yourself to glance at your reflection in the mirror. The denim hugged your curves delicately, providing just a hint of what laid beneath without giving too much away. It looked odd paired with the old t-shirt you’d thrown on this morning, but the right top would make a world of difference.

Nora clapped her hands together the moment you opened the curtain. Her brown eyes lit up, and a soft squeal of excitement emanated from her throat.

“You’re gonna have Eddie eating out the palm of your hand,” she declared, reaching out to give you a little spin.

You gently pulled away from her as though it would offset the fluttering low in your stomach. “I told you, it’s—”

“Yeah, I know. Just two friends going to the bar, pretending they don’t wanna bone each other.” Nora rolled her eyes, already sick of the will they-won’t they song-and-dance.

You ducked back into the fitting room to change out of the skirt. “He doesn’t wanna bone me.”

“But you wanna bone him?”

It came out as a question, but you knew she meant as a statement.

“First of all, stop saying ‘bone.’” You hissed, tugging your shorts back over your legs. “Second, Eddie and I are friends, and he’s taking me out for graduation. End of story.”

Nora’s sigh was audible from the other side of the curtain. “Not ‘end of story.’ You didn’t answer my question. Do you wanna b—have sex with Eddie?”

Your hesitation was enough of an answer for her, and though you couldn’t see her face, you were certain she was grinning when she announced, “I knew it!”

“It’s not like that,” you protested. The fitting room was suddenly far too crowded and depleted of oxygen despite you being its only occupant. You threaded the teeth into your shorts zipper and grabbed the skirt, now heavy in your hand. “Yeah, he’s pretty cute, but—”

“But nothing. C’mon, just admit it: you like Eddie.” You could detect a hint of exasperation in her tone. Frustration, even, or confusion as to why you continually denied yourself life’s small pleasures.

You couldn’t answer that, either.

Protest died with the subtle twitch of your lips that gave away the truth. You hated your tells, the ones that swiftly uncovered the feelings you worked diligently to stifle. And you knew that if Nora kept pressing you about this crush, you would eventually break down and divulge it all.

Not just your burgeoning romantic feelings towards Eddie. Not the way you told bad jokes just to see his lopsided smile and the nose crinkle that often accompanied it. Not the multiple occasions when you caught yourself staring at the muscles in his arms and ached to kiss right along the hardened edge of his biceps.

Once you said those thoughts out loud, gave them the weight of spoken words, they became real. Able to hurt you when he inevitably didn’t reciprocate them.

And that terrified you.

“You have a big ol’ crush on him,” Nora continued, “and he has one on you.”

“He doesn’t have a crush on me,” you mumbled, purposely averting your gaze from hers.

Through peripheral vision, you could see her raise one brow. “Says who?”

Says the song lyrics about his ex-girlfriend. But that was too much to explain, so you slapped on a tight smile and shook the thought away. “Never mind. Let’s just pay for this.”

Nora swiped her credit card with an ease that only comes with the luxury of not having to worry about paying the water bill. She never had to dip into her own savings to keep the lights on. Buying her friend a miniskirt for a maybe-date wasn’t going to affect her grocery budget.

“I have the perfect pair of Docs to go with this. You can borrow them,” she said, pointedly adding “for your date.” She was either oblivious or didn’t care that the cashier was eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Not a date.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Nora plucked the bagged skirt from the cashier, flashed her a grateful smile, and shoved it in your direction. “Just answer one question for me—are you gonna wear lace panties underneath this, or cotton?”

When you once again failed to look at her, her grin widened.

“That’s what I thought.”

On Monday evening, you found yourself poised in front of the mirror, still fogged from your shower. The inky blue sky leaked into your room through the time-worn blinds, the sun almost fully faded into nighttime, which meant that Eddie would be knocking on your door at any moment.

The hem of your black fitted t-shirt met the waist of your skirt, the slightest gap between the two fabrics. It wasn’t scandalous by any stretch of the imagination, but it still conveyed one message: you wanted Eddie to look at you. Wanted him to notice your soft skin the way you noticed his flexing muscles, with awe and more lust than you cared to admit.

Did it all reek of desperation? What if Eddie was wearing the sweatpants he’d donned to remove the wallpaper? Just the possibility of him looking at your own outfit, at the effort you put into your appearance, and realizing you’d interpreted a friendly gesture as a date had you cringing.

No, this was a bad idea. You had to back out, now. Claim that you weren’t feeling well, maybe even take some ibuprofen in front of him, and promise a raincheck. You did feel the familiar throbbing that accompanied a tension headache, so it wasn’t a total lie—

Knock knock.

Sweat overrode the antiperspirant you’d lathered on, flooding you with a nervous heat. You frantically wiped your slick palms on the bed sheet like a cat at its scratching post and opened the door.

Eddie's eyes widened and his tongue brushed over his lower lip. There was no hiding the way his gaze dropped to your exposed thighs, drinking in every ounce of visible skin as though it was the only sustenance he’d ever need. His stare was hungry, if only for a moment, before his words broke the trance.

“You look…good. Pretty.” He swallowed thickly and forced himself to meet your eyes. “Sorry…just not used to seeing you all dressed up.”

Pretty. Eddie Munson thought you were pretty. The notion sent serotonin surging through you, a soft giggle passing through your lips. It was embarrassing, this schoolgirl crush, the way a simple word from him rendered you pathetically speechless.

A barrage of compliments perched themselves on your tongue, waiting to be untethered. He looked good, too; beyond that, he looked handsome. His cream colored shirt was baggy around his torso but clung to his biceps, drawing your attention to the vein that ran up his forearm.

You willed yourself to say something, anything, to reciprocate his kind words.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, mirroring your nervous energy as he gently rocked from the heel to the toe of his Reeboks. “We should get going,” he said.

Opportunity slipped from your grasp; anything you said now would seem like pity. Your only response was a nod as you locked the door and started towards the lobby.

Pretty. Pretty. Pretty.

Mom stood behind the desk, flipping through the check-in sheets with the cap end of a pen clenched between her teeth. She looked up, blinking in rapid succession when she saw you and Eddie approaching. You weren’t sure what surprised her more: you going out, or the man accompanying you.

“Well, don’t you two look nice!” She grinned, though the smile didn’t quite reach her tired eyes. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just getting a drink,” you said as casually as you could. “Celebrating my—the wallpaper.” It was a lame finish, one that Mom didn’t quite believe, but she lacked the energy to push further.

Guilt panged in your chest, not just at the lie, but because part of you felt like you were taking advantage of her exhaustion. You couldn’t tell her the real reason for the celebration; bile rose in your throat at the thought. Instead, you smiled and promised to be home before the start of your shift.

“I’ll make sure she behaves,” Eddie added with a mischievous edge, not sexual in nature but still had your stomach doing somersaults. “I know she can be quite the troublemaker.”

Mom laughed at this, so pure and genuine that you were half-tempted to ask Eddie if you could stay here and talk with her all night. Maybe he could break the news to her, since they seemed to get on well enough.

You felt her watch as Eddie opened the door for you and gave the tiniest bow to let you pass, though you didn’t dare look back at her. Not because she wouldn’t approve—just the opposite. Looking at your mother would confirm what you already knew deep down: she’d be beaming at the sight of you going on a date.

If that’s what this was.

Eddie shuffled to walk right by your side, sneakers scuffing against the broken pavement. A flicker of hope ignited within you that he would do something to confirm that this was, in fact, a romantic endeavor and not just two friends getting a drink. Perhaps an arm slung over your shoulder or a hand laced with yours.

There was only the gentle brush of his fingers against yours, knuckles grazing one another as they nearly slotted together. It was taunting, the way they could be a perfect fit if given the chance.

You almost went for it, almost grabbed hold of his hand yourself, but fear had you in its own grasp. Even if the benefit outweighed the risk, you couldn’t stop picturing him tugging his hand away from yours in a humiliating show of rejection.

“You okay? You’re not, like, mad at me again, are you?” Concern creased Eddie’s brows, and your heavy heart realized that the last time you were this quiet around him was after the argument.

“Not at all. Sorry.” You shot him a reassuring smile. “Just lost in my own thoughts.” You sent up a silent prayer that he wouldn’t ask you to elaborate on those thoughts.

Luckily, he just tilted his head towards you, his eyes taking on an even more doe-like quality than usual. “That’s the problem with you smart people: you’re always thinking too much.”

You laughed as you nudged him, your right shoulder colliding with his left. He stumbled slightly, quickly catching himself before he could fully lose his balance.

“Hey!” He yelped, rubbing his upper arm. The muscles beneath it flexed at his touch. “Don’t damage the merchandise.”

“I wouldn’t dare. I…” You shook your nerves loose and faced him, speaking before you fully lost yourself in his full, waiting lips. “I’d never damage merchandise as priceless as you.”

Eddie stopped in his tracks, the compliment seemingly rebooting his brain. Was it too forward? No, it couldn’t have been; he’d called you pretty just moments before. And it wasn’t as if you’d been forward enough to say he was sexy (though he was) or accidentally emasculated him by pointing out how adorable his soft dimples were (another fact).

His exhale was a disbelieving chuckle. “I, uh, don’t think anyone’s called me ‘priceless’ before. ‘Worthless,’ maybe, but…” He trailed off in an attempt to contain it as a lighthearted joke, but it was anchored by an undeniable truth.

If you could, you would wash away the ego-marring stains left behind by those who hurt him. Scrub and scrub until it was once again pristine as though they’d never been tarnished by self-doubt.

“Priceless.” You said it definitively, leaving no room for further argument.

Eddie ducked behind his hair, letting the curly locks dangle over his mouth to mask his flustered smile. You were willing to bet that a blush was spreading across the apples of his cheeks.

Curiosity loosened your inhibitions enough for you to reach out and tuck a few strands behind his ear. Sure enough, a delicate pink tinged his skin. You wanted to kiss it until your lips grew swollen from where his stubble scratched them raw.

Doing that would require something far more potent than inquisitiveness.

There was a decent crowd that night, not as packed as the weekend would have been, but there were enough people that only one empty stool remained in front of the bar. Eddie gestured to it, offering you the seat just as he had on the subway last week.

You tucked the denim fabric of your skirt behind your thighs as you sat. Eddie watched every movement, an unreadable desire darkening his expression, as if he wished it were his fingers on your skin.

Your smile seemed to snap him from his trance. He waved down the bartender, who held up her forefinger to signal she would be right over.

A shadow draped over you as you scanned the liquor-cluttered shelves, bathing you in a welcoming darkness. Protection. Eddie’s arms framed your torso, his hands planted firmly on the bartop. And when you lightly grasped his wrist, your thumb rubbing against the soft hairs on his arm, you could have sworn you felt the tension leave his body in one swift exhale.

“What are you gonna get?” The grainy pop music playing from the speakers and a cacophony of neighboring conversations muffled his voice, and he had to shout just to be heard.

“A vodka tonic.” Simple, classic, and most importantly—not expensive. Though you probably should let him be the judge of that, considering it was his treat. “If that’s okay?”

Eddie laughed softly and nodded. “It’s your night, Heiress.” The tip of his tongue swiped over his lower lip.

He ordered your drink first, then placed his order for whatever beer was on tap before declining to open a tab. Your chest went slightly concave; you should have followed his lead and ordered the cheaper option.

As if sensing your guilt, Eddie pulled back enough to look you in the eye. “It’s your night,” he repeated, grabbing your short, stout glass and placing it in your hand. He raised his own taller mug, proposing a toast. “To a badass future social worker and all of the lives she’s gonna change. For the better,” he added quickly.

Before he could clink his glass to yours, you locked eyes with him. The brown eyes that steeled themselves against you the night he first checked into the motel were now pillow-soft, beckoning you to fall. He may not have even been aware of it himself.

“To the coolest rockstar I know,” you said, allowing the lips of your glasses to touch. “And the second-coolest guest to ever stay at the motel.”

Eddie raised a brow. “Second?”

“You really think you’re cooler than Phyllis?”

“Touché.” He relented with a smirk, taking a swig of his drink that left a foamy mustache on his upper lip. Without a second thought, he licked it away.

The movement enraptured you: his tongue swiping over his skin, leaving no residue in its wake. That same tongue that peeked out from his mouth when he was focused, a simple muscle, but it held your attention for a beat too long.

“Are you…” Eddie gestured towards your vodka tonic, and you realized you hadn’t even taken a sip.

Cheers to embarrassing yourself ten minutes into the date. Non-date. Whatever it was.

The vodka’s bitterness and the bubbles from the tonic water seeped into your tongue. You savored the burn as you swallowed. It had been so long since you’d had a drink, and just the first taste had you buzzing. If you didn’t pace yourself properly, you’d be tipsy far too soon.

The sound system crackled and microphone feedback shot through the bar. You and Eddie winced in unison, each taking a gulp of your drinks.

A man in his mid-thirties, balding with a goatee, stood at a makeshift stage at the back of the bar. “Welcome to Music Mondays here at The Brink. That’s right…it’s karaoke night!”

There was a smattering of applause that didn’t match the emcee’s enthusiasm, but he remained undeterred.

“Sign up here with your name and your song, and we’ll get started in a few minutes. Drink that liquid courage and come on down!” The microphone screeched once more as he slid it back into the stand.

You turned to Eddie, your eyes wide with mischief. “You’re gonna do it, right?”

Eddie scoffed. “Fuck, no. I’m not getting up there and making a fool of myself.”

“But it’s my night,” you reminded him. “You said so yourself.”

He looked poised to argue, one hand gripped tightly around the mug’s handle, his mouth ready to say no. But then you batted your eyelashes and pouted, all in jest. A dramatic showing that you didn’t expect would convince him.

A wry smile betrayed his tough exterior as his thumb ghosted your lower lip. Lightning crackled at his touch, soft as it was, illuminating your bones and surging through your veins. When he pulled back, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, a light red stain tinged his skin. If he noticed it, he made no attempt to wipe it off.

“It is your night,” he mused, gaze flickering to your mouth before promptly returning to your eyes. When you lit up in anticipation of him conceding, he couldn’t help but grin back. “One song. And I’m choosing it.”

You couldn’t argue with him, not when his touch still lingered on your lip. He disappeared for a moment to add his name to the list. As soon as he was out of sight, you took a much larger gulp of your drink. A trickle escaped out of the corner of your mouth, and you haphazardly swiped at it with the back of your hand, lest it ruin the shirt you’d picked out especially for the date.

This isn’t a date. The reminder was as harsh as the vodka itself. You lifted the glass once more and drained it until the half-melted ice cubes clicked against your teeth. Whatever this evening was, you needed to relax. Enjoy Eddie’s company without reading too much into his every move.

You turned your attention to the TV mounted above the shelves, engrossing yourself in the scrolling closed captions. A weatherman announced that this summer was going to be a ‘scorcher,’ and though he said it with a plastic grin, you inwardly cringed at the impact the air conditioning would have on the electric bill.

“I’m up third.” Eddie’s voice broke in, turning the upcoming weather into a distant memory. He raised his brows when he saw your glass, now empty on the sticky bartop. “You finished that already?”

“Mhm.” Your smile was sloppier than you intended, your head starting to float from your neck as tipsiness crept in.

Eddie breathed out, shaking his head with a glimmer of a smirk. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or impressed, and you didn’t have time to ask before he waved over the bartender. “Just water, please.” He nodded his thanks when she slid it over. “Drink,” he said to you, and you dutifully obliged.

“What song did you pick out?” Something that is supposed to be screamed more than sung, you assumed.

He just shook his head again and swallowed more beer. “It’s a surprise.” His eyes twinkled when he said it, and you wondered if his choice erred more on the side of Madonna than Metallica.

A woman got up on stage and began her rousing rendition of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.

Peppy? Upbeat? A great way to kick off karaoke night? Absolutely.

On-key? Not even close.

“If you ever start a new band, you should ask her to join.” You chinpointed towards the woman currently butchering the Cyndi Lauper classic. “She’s got that star power, I think.”

Eddie snorted but composed himself quickly to play into your joke. “I’m worried she’d outshine me.” He widened his eyes in faux concern. “Go solo and leave me behind, y’know?”

“She’ll probably steal all of your groupies, too,” you added, tutting as if to say, what a shame.

“Even you?”

You cocked your brow. “Who said I’m your groupie?”

He leaned his elbow against the bar, mouth slackjaw at your rejection. Disbelieving laughter left his throat in a huff.

“I take you out, treat you to the best watered-down drink this city has to offer, and this is the thanks I get?” His curls brushed against his cheeks when he shook his head. “Who would you be a groupie for? Wait, no; lemme guess.” He tapped his finger to his chin. “New Kids on the Block? Boyz II Men?”

“I think I’d die if Joey McIntyre so much as looked at me.” You hadn’t meant to say that aloud. The watered-down or not, the alcohol was certainly turning sober thoughts into tipsy words.

Eddie chugged half of the beer, watching as the woman on stage finished her song and left with a triumphant bow. “Pretty sure your shitty taste in music is what plays at the gates of Hell,” he said to you.

Your response was a mere flick of your middle finger.

A man in a suit took the stage next, loosening his tie as he positioned himself behind the microphone. A group of similarly-dressed men started hooting and hollering obnoxiously the moment the opening chords to Don’t Stop Believin’ blared through the sound system.

You looked back to Eddie. If he was nervous about singing karaoke, he didn’t show it. His shoulders were relaxed, his posture much less tense than on the walk to the bar. Maybe the alcohol loosened him up as it had you.

“What about you?” You asked. “Whose groupie would you be?”

“Easy,” he said, not missing a beat. “Joan Jett. Total badass, killer musician, and hot as hell.” He nodded to confirm his choice before leaning in and loudly whispering. “Bad Reputation was basically my secret anthem in high school.”

You laughed. “Did you imagine it playing in the background when you walked down the halls?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Eddie grinned and polished off his beer.

His confession warmed you—or maybe that was just the vodka working its way through your bloodstream. Regardless, you were intrigued by the glimpse into his past and found yourself hungry for more.

“Can I ask you a non-groupie related question?”

“Shoot.”

Your tongue was heavy, the resulting slurring softening your words. “If your hometown is so shitty, why are you trying to go back?”

He loosened a chuckle, glancing at the shelves of booze before looking back to you. “My uncle still lives there. He, ah, he raised me after my dad split and my mom…y’know.” Eddie cleared his throat and managed a small smile. “Why? You want me to stick around?”

The hair on his forearm tickled when he slid it over to nudge you, his pinky finger overlapping yours.

Of course you wanted him to stick around. You’d smear honey all over the motel’s siding to lure more bees, tempt them to build their nests among the sticky sweetness, just so he would have a reason to stay.

The man on stage belted out his final “don’t stop believin’” as his buddies enveloped him in drunken hugs.

“All right!” The emcee bleated into the microphone. “Next up, we have…” He checked the sign-up sheet. “…Eddie! Let’s give him a hand, folks.”

A smattering of applause echoed throughout the room, the excitement of karaoke night already dwindling. If Eddie noticed, he didn’t show it.

“This one’s for you, Heiress.” He winked and sprinted towards the stage.

Eddie pressed his foot on the microphone stand, adjusting it so it was level with his lips. His fingers curled around its neck, dramatically tugging it closer as the instrumentals piped through the sound system.

Well, since my baby left me Well, I found a new place to dwell Well, it's down at the end of Lonely Street At Heartbreak Hotel

His hips swung back and forth, the gyrations not quite as precise as Elvis’s, but he still snapped them in time with the staccato guitar chords. The right heel of his sneakers tapped the floor as he continued, voice dipping into his lower register.

Where I'll be, I'll be so lonely, baby Well, I'm so lonely I'll be so lonely, I could die

Free hand pressed to his heart, Eddie leaned in your direction and tilted the mic stand while he sang. The movements were reminiscent of how a man would dance with someone he loved, impassioned yet graceful. Charisma oozed from every pore, his natural command of the stage an enduring reminder of his brief foray into rock stardom.

The other patrons faded into the background as his eyes fixed on you, a personal serenade rather than karaoke night amongst a sea of drunks. Easiness weaved through each note he sang, his body loosening and his lips curving into a smile when you let out a vodka-fueled whoop of admiration.

Now, the bellhop's tears keep flowin' And the desk clerk's dressed in black Well, they've been so long on Lonely Street Well, they'll never, they'll never look back

Eddie pointed to you when he referenced the desk clerk, the crowd following his every move. The heat of their stares only exacerbated the warmth that the alcohol already sent coursing through you, but you felt no need to hide. The rich timbre of his voice was a magnetic pull, drawing you in until it echoed deep in your bones.

Although it's always crowded But you still can find some room For broken hearted lovers To cry there in their gloom Where they get so, they get so lonely, baby Well, they're so lonely They'll be so lonely, they could die

He ended the song with one final swing of his hips, one foot turned inward in an Elvis-esque pose. If anyone else applauded for him, it couldn’t be heard over the sound of your cheers.

He made a beeline for you. “Did that live up to your expectations?” Sweat dripped from his flushed forehead and down his temples.

“Exceeded them, actually.”

The bartender slid over two shot glasses filled with amber liquid. “On the house,” she explained when you and Eddie looked at her in confusion.

You shouldn’t. The TV set that broadcasted the news showed that it was nearly nine o’clock and you were already tipsy from the one drink. Adding a shot—and subsequently mixing liquor—was a recipe for disaster.

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t wanna,” Eddie said. “I’ll take them both.”

With a shake of your head, you took the glass nearest you and downed it, the whiskey burning stronger than you had anticipated. Tears reflexively welled in your eyes, leaving you clinging to the hope that you had blinked them away before Eddie could notice.

He let out a soft, low whistle. “Well, okay then.” His own shot disappeared past his grimacing lips.

A familiar synthesized beat replaced the idle hum of conversation as a middle-aged woman began her song. Eddie threw back his head when he heard it, groaning as though the ‘80s hit left him in agony.

“You’re such a music snob,” you lamented, reaching out with both of your hands to grab onto his. If this is what liquid courage felt like, you were more than happy to ride that wave. “There’s more to life than heavy metal.”

“I just sang Elvis!” He protested, but his efforts were all in vain as you hopped off of the barstool and led him away from your empty shot glasses. “Heiress…” His tone was a warning, one that you promptly ignored.

You let your gaze meet his, the vodka-and-whiskey combination working overtime to stifle your nerves.

“Dance with me.”

Eddie laughed. “You’re tipsy.”

“I’m tipsy and I want you to dance with me.”

“You wanna dance, huh?” He laughed again when you nodded. “All right; let’s dance.”

Eddie’s hands slid down to your wrists and adjusted your arms so they draped over his shoulders, his curls tickling your fingers when they clasped behind his neck. He hesitated for a second before letting his own fingertips rest on your waist, careful to avoid dipping below the small of your back.

Watching, I keep waiting, still anticipating love Never hesitating to become the fated ones

The current performer was marginally better than the first two, but her voice wasn’t nearly as polished as Eddie’s. She kept getting too close to the mic, the lyrics muffled each time her purple-lipsticked mouth grazed the cover.

You inched forward, your chest against Eddie’s as the two of you swayed in tandem. His fingers flexed before tugging you closer, evidence that you weren’t the only one affected by the shot.

“Can’t remember the last time I heard this song,” he mused wistfully. “Probably my senior prom. The last one, anyway.”

“You had more than one senior prom?”

His cheeks, already pinkened from the liquor, flushed a deeper shade of red. “Yeah, it, uh, took me a few tries to graduate,” Eddie admitted. “But I did it.” A sheepish smile still held a twinge of pride.

“You did it.”

“Yeah.” One arm reached back to grasp your hand and twirl you around, and you breathed an audible sigh of relief when the room didn’t spin with you. “But tonight,” he grinned, “is all about you.”

You. Not the motel or its crumbling financial infrastructure. Not the guests or your parents. Not school or exams or term papers. Just you.

An involuntary giggle wriggled its way up and you ducked your head to hide it, your forehead brushing against Eddie’s lips. Did he purse them slightly in a hint of a kiss, or was that a figment of your imagination?

Turning and returning to some secret place inside Watching in slow motion as you turn my way and say Take my breath away

“You okay?” Eddie asked, a smile in his voice.

“Mhm. Just happy.”

“Yeah? Good.” His forefinger tucked under your chin and tilted it upwards, granting him a better look at you. The tip of his tongue parted his lips and swiped over the whiskey-scented residue. “You deserve to be happy.”

You did deserve to be happy. You deserved joyful moments in your life, people who surrounded you in sunshine even when rain poured.

My love, take my breath away My love, take my breath away

You deserved Eddie.

Standing before you, his eyes never strayed from your form, flicking from your face to where his hands gripped your waist. His chest rose and fell in time with the music.

“I…” You swallowed your fear, already tempered by tipsiness, curling your fingers into the back of his ribbed t-shirt collar.

Desire rippled down your spine and you leaned in to close that godforsaken gap, already tasting him on your tongue.

But not before he pulled away.

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#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #lam

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tulipswoo · 2 days

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it's not just a game - yoon jeonghan

word count: 1.2k words

warnings: mentions of alcohol

pairings: yoon jeonghan x afab reader

genre: friends to lovers, fluff, a hint of angst

a/n: this has not been proofread so i apologise if there's some mistakes. also, its been a little while since i posted zzzz

jeonghan's pov

the bottle spun and landed on me. ''truth or dare?'' as soon as the words left seungcheol's mouth, i knew i was utterly screwed, especially with that stupid sly smirk on his face. it didn't matter what i picked because i know, with both options, the boys would stir some shit up one way or another.

just to be clear, i am in no way a willing participant in this game, especially not when all of us are either drunk and tipsy. but of course, who am i to say no when seungcheol suggested this game earlier to y/n and she just had to drag me by my hand and ask me to play together. it's just a game hannie, don't be such a scaredy caaat

am i going to admit that i am scared? no. but am i scared? beyond that, i am terrified, mortified. why? because 30 minutes prior to y/n arriving at our flat, i had just been talking to seungcheol and joshua about her. after specifically telling them both that i dont think im ready to confess yet because as much as i hate to admit it, i become a stuttering mess in front of her. and i hate it because that's not me. that's not who i am. i am yoon jeonghan. i am confident! i don't get nervous. i don't get shy. ever. so why am i like this in front of her?

‘’hurry up, handsome. you're taking too long.’’ she whined; pulling my heartstrings. ‘’dare.’’ i said without putting much thought into it. ‘’who do you think is the most attractive person here?’’ soonyoung asked.

‘’myself of course.’’

‘’aside from yourself, dumbass.’’ vernon laughed.

‘’im older than you! watch it.’’ i said jokingly as i punched his arm lightly.

‘’so? who is it?’’ seungcheol continued probing.

‘’i'd rather take the penalty shot than answer this stupid question.’’

‘’ok fine, take the shot then.’’ joshua said dejectedly.

i poured myself a shot and lifted it to my lips, but before i downed it, ‘’come on guys, technically, he did answer the question.’’ y/n came to my defense. I immediately put the shot glass back on the floor. ‘’exactly. i did technically answer your question.’’

’yeah you did except, we're playing truth or dare and you weren't telling the truth. sooo……penalty shot.’’ vernon bit back. i gave him a tight-lipped smile and down the penalty shot in surrender.

this time, the bottle landed on soonyoung. ‘’alright, truth or dare buddy?’’ joshua asked soonyoung. ‘’mhmm…dare.’’

‘’i dare you to give y/n a kiss on the cheek'’ seungcheol said with a laugh. a kiss?????????? on the cheek???????? oh hell. ‘’what kind of stupid game is this?? you guys didn't even ask her. what if she doesn't want that??’’ i challenged.

‘’do you not want to y/n? if you don't, its really fine, jeonghan is right.’’ joshua said.

‘’i don't mind it. come on hannie, it's just a game.’’ she said as she looked at me with those eyes. if i didn’t know any better, i would have thought that it was those eyes of adoration..like..she feels something for me too. my breath hitched for a moment. but i do know better; lightweight y/n is just tipsy, maybe a little drunk. those eyes didn’t mean anything at all.

and with that, soonyoung turns to his side and gave her a peck on her cheek, it felt agonizingly long, that is, until she looks up me while soonyoung still has his lips on her cheek. im conflicted. half of me feels…..feels jealousy. the other half of me feels..light…like im floating almost. ‘’s-soonyoung ah, thats enough.’’ i couldn't stand seeing it anymore.

‘’come on, lets stop this. its already 230am.’’ i suggested.

‘’lets just play one more round and then we'll call it a night.’’ vernon tried accommodating.

‘’oh yes! one more round! please hannie! i haven’'t had this much fun in such a long time.’’ how could i ever say no?

this time, the bottle landed on y/n. ‘’dare or dare y/n?’’ soonyoung asked. ‘’what do you mean dare or dare?’’ she pouted as she asked.

‘’come on, it's the last round of the night. lets make it fun! go with a dare please!’’ soonyoung asked her as he clasped his hands together; begging her with his puppy dog eyes. ‘’okay fine lets go with dare.’’ she answered as she patted soonyoung's head. no, i am not jealous.

‘’kiss……jeonghan hyung.’’ my eyes grew big as the words left soonyoung's mouth. is he crazy? has he lost his mind? my eyes glanced over to y/n slowly, trying to gauge her reaction. i watched as her eyes grew wide for a second before it turned into a smile. ‘’hannie, do you mind?’’ she asked me gently, as if gauging my reaction as well. ‘’i..i mind of course. what kind of friends kiss each other?’’ i said nervously as i picked up the penalty shot and downed it, handing the empty shot glass to her. ‘’here. i took the penalty shot for you. game over, let's all go to bed now.’’ i got up as soon as she took the shot glass from me. i'll try to erase the image of her frowning when i got up.

‘’y/n'’ i said as i entered my room and beelined for my closet. i turned around to make sure she was listening, but instead, i found her following me around like a hurt little lost puppy that's been kicked aside. frowning a little, i said ‘’you can take my bed, i’ll sleep on the couch tonight.’’

‘’okay.’’ she said softly.

‘’whats wrong?’’

‘’nothing’s wrong.’’

‘’something is clearly bothering you. what's wrong?’’

at that, she hesitates for awhile before she broke the silence. ‘’is kissing me really that bad?’’

‘’no but we are friends! we can't kiss. that would be inappropriate and weird.’’ i tried to clarify, though i know this didn’t make things any better.

‘’well do we have to be just friends?’’

‘’what are you-'’

‘’kiss me hannie'’

‘’you don't know what you're asking of me, y/n.’’

‘’i do. i know what im asking of you so please. unless you really don't want to and the thought of kissing me disgusts you then i-''

i don't know what came over me but before i could register anything at all, i found my hand in her hair and the other on the side of her neck, guiding her to me. no, i did not shut her up with a kiss but my lips are brushing against hers. she's so close i can feel her breath hitching, i felt the beating of her heart speed up as i leaned down to press my lips on hers. i felt her hand come up to my side and fisted my shirt as if holding herself back from giving more into the kiss.

i pulled away slowly to look her in the eyes. the emotions swirling behind them were the same as she one the gave me earlier. ‘’it's not just a game is it hannie?’’ she asked as she looked down. i lifted her chin for her to look back at me, ‘’it’s not just a game, y/n.’’

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thelaundrybitch · 2 days

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Chopsticks - Part 2

Part 1

TURTLEDOVES!!!

HERE IT IS!!!

Sorry, Blurple lovers... Leonardo weaseled his way back to being the one and only 💙

So, please enjoy some quality time with Leo 😘

TW: Sushi and a thirsty bitch. Proceed forward at your own risk.

And as always, my ninja turts are aged up to 30+ years. Don't be weird.

Please don't steal my work. Reblogging for others to enjoy is highly encouraged, though🤩

18+ content - for mature audiences only

Chopsticks - Part 2

Thankfully, living in the lair wasn't terrible since it was like living in a 5-star hotel. You'd been there for a little over a year now since "The incident."

Things had been good between you and the turtles since all the drama had finally calmed down. Donnie still hadn't backed down from his sudden onset of flirting since the kitchen debacle, but it was more tolerable.

As always, Mike was full of fun-loving energy. Always finding ways to make you smile and laugh. Quick to share a video game with you, quicker to share a tasty snack. He was your friend. Your brother, even.

Raph was Raph. Serious about his fitness regimen, while also entirely too busy playing Splinter's caretaker to even attempt to entertain any kind of drama or other BS… regarding anyone. Poor guy seriously needed a vacation. And a woman.

Leo was still Prince Charming. And honestly, you could never get a good read on him. Your heart had and always would belong to him, but you were sure he wasn't interested in a romantic relationship with you… especially after all the Donnie drama.

But you kept hoping. Hoping that his casual flirting actually meant more than he let on. Or that, maybe, all those light touches and soft whispers might lead to more feelings on his end.

Because good God… He was killing you.

You were currently sitting at the table enjoying a cup of herbal tea Leo had made for you.

About 45 minutes ago.

You were stalling.

Secretly hoping he would come back in and join you, but that looked to be a bust.

Sighing disappointedly as you got up to bring your cup to the sink, Leo walked in with a bag.

"Oh! There you are! I was looking for you!" He exclaimed, his whole face brightening with a smile, his eyes sparkling as the lighting hit them just right.

God, he was beautiful.

"Oh, sorry. I was just finishing my tea," you answered, smiling back at him and lifting the small cup, attempting to swallow the nervous energy that the swarm of butterflies in your stomach had managed to swirl up.

"Oh.” It was a concerned statement as that beautiful smile you loved so much disappeared from his face. “Was it alright? It took you a long time to finish it…" he inferred, brow ridge furrowed in dismay as he stepped toward you with his hand out like he was going to take the cup and test it for quality.

"It was delicious!" You responded quicker than intended, brows hitting the ceiling, one hand up placatingly while the other moved the cup from his reach. "I was just really enjoying it. It was almost meditative for me."

It wasn't a lie. You just happened to be "meditating" about him. But he didn't need to know that.

"Did you need me for something? You said you were looking for me?" You asked before he could inquire about the meditation comment.

"Yes!" He exclaimed excitedly. "I was wondering if you'd like to join me for lunch, actually!" He remarked, holding out the brown paper bag towards you. "You know, if you're hungry…"

"I'd love to! What did you get?" You inquired, walking to the sink to wash out your dirty cup, still looking at him as your smile threatened to split your face in two.

"It's a surprise," he told you with that cute boyish smile of his. "I'm gonna set it up in the Tatami room. Would you mind getting us some drinks?"

"Absolutely! Water with ice and some lemon?" You recalled, knowing his preferences well at this point.

He smiled at you kindly, "Yes, thank you. Oh, and do you mind waiting here for me until I come back to get you? Please?"

"Sure," you agreed, brows furrowed as you looked at him skeptically, pausing before you reached into the cabinet to grab two glasses.

With a curt nod, he hurried out of the kitchen and across the hall to the Tatami room, closing the doors behind him gently. And you couldn't help but wonder what he was up to, acting all nervous and un-Leo-like.

Just as you finished slicing the lemon and adding it to the edges of your water glasses, Leo stepped back into the kitchen.

"Ready?" He asked, clenching and unclenching his fisted hands repeatedly as he stepped back and forth nervously.

You smiled kindly and nodded, still pondering over his odd behavior while also trying to put him at ease.

Outstretching his arm in an invitation to go ahead of him, you stepped forward to take the lead. Before you passed by him, however, he took one of the glasses of water that you were carrying and followed closely behind.

As you reached your destination, he hurriedly reached around you and opened the Tatami room door. Looking back at him, he smiled and signaled for you to enter the room.

You stepped inside a dim, candlelit room, where a variety of sushi was spread out on the table.

"It's beautiful, Leo," you whispered, looking up at him where he stood behind you, his plastron barely a breath from your body.

He looked down at you and chuckled, "Well, I was hoping it looked delicious, but I'll take beautiful," he teased you as his free hand made contact with your lower back.

Heat crept up your neck toward your face, and butterflies tickled your belly as his hand slid from your back to your hand so he could help you to the table to sit. You steadied your breathing the best you could, hoping he wouldn't notice the fast, trembling breaths.

Instead of sitting across from you as you had expected him to do, he sat down directly next to you. Surprised at how close he was, you couldn’t help but watch as he grabbed a plate and filled it up for himself.

Eyes locked on yours as he looked over at you, he asked, "May I?" As he picked up your plate.

Blinking a few times before what he had said actually registered, you nodded as your stomach did a half dozen somersaults, one right after the other, and you thought to yourself that this very much felt like a date—a romantic one.

Giving you a sexy smirk, he paused, making deliberate selections as he filled your plate before putting it in front of you with a set of chopsticks.

Oh, no.

He grabbed his own chopsticks and started eating, as you sat and looked at your set like they were laced with the plague.

After about four bites, he stopped and looked at you, brow ridge furrowed and head slightly cocked to one side. "Everything alright?" He asked, studying your features.

You let out a defeated sigh. "I don't know how to use those," you confessed, slightly embarrassed as you pointed to your foreign utensils.

"Here, like this," he instructed, showing you how to hold and use them, demonstrating with his own set in his hands.

After five minutes of hell and some stifled giggles from him, he suggested, "I have an idea."

Standing up from where he sat beside you, he walked out of your view. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, you felt him sit behind you, his thighs straddling your hips as he laid his long legs out straight beside yours under the table.

Eyes wide, your breath hitched as you felt his plastron touch your back.

Please don't pass out.

You tried to steady your breathing as you felt his arms come around you on either side to pick up your chopsticks.

"Like this," he whispered, his warm breath caressing your ear as he fixed the sticks in your dominant hand.

You swallowed hard. "K." It was the only thing you could make out, and just as you feared, it came out in a trembling breath.

He kept his hand around yours as he brought the chopsticks to your plate to pick up a piece of sushi, then brought it to your mouth. You opened your mouth, and he placed the food inside gently.

"Good, right?" He breathed, voice low and smooth as his lips touched the outer edge of your ear.

"Mmm," you hummed quietly, barely tasting the food as he picked up another piece.

Your gaze followed his motions as you watched him use your hand, still encased by his, slowly bringing the chopsticks to his mouth and feeding himself.

When your innocent observing turned into full-on gawking as you looked up at him, a sly smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You gonna finish that?" He teased with raised eyebrow ridges as he nodded his head at you and looked at your mouth, licking his lips.

You cleared your throat and continued to chew, your face growing as hot as the summer sun.

He chuckled, and you felt his lips on your ear again, "Did you know that sushi is considered an aphrodisiac?"

You shook your head in response as you attempted to swallow your mouthful of food.

Spinning the chopsticks so they were being held by the grace of only one of his fingers, he leaned forward to grab your glass, handing it to you as he saw your struggle to swallow, "Relax," he said softly, his other hand resting on your bicep, giving it a small squeeze.

You chugged a couple of mouthfuls of water, forcing the lump of food down your esophagus to hopefully squash the butterflies that had seemingly multiplied. Tenfold.

However, the moment you set the glass back down on the table, Leo took the opportunity, deciding to continue in his onslaught of lusty torture.

As you placed your water glass back down, you felt his hand move to your hip. The intimacy of the action caused you to sit up straight.

"Easy," he whispered. "I'm not gonna bite you," he practically purred, lightly trailing his snout down the side of your neck, then back up to your ear. "Do you want more?"

Holy shit, yes.

You nodded, letting out a hard breath of air.

"What would you like more of, love?" his voice husky, his lips ghosting over your pulse in a restrained kiss.

Unable to breathe, nevermind speak, you pushed your hips back between the apex of his thighs, where the unmistakable outline of his growing erection against your backside ignited the fire between your own.

You hoped the action was enough of an explanation because you were positive that you wouldn't be able to form a coherent sentence at this point.

He dropped the chopsticks and used both hands to pull your hips flush to his so your back was now completely flat against his plastron. His hand found its way under the front of your shirt and made its way quickly to a hardened nipple.

A small gasp left your lips as he trailed kisses down your neck. "I lied," he breathed out. "I need to taste you," he growled, his tongue making contact with your collarbone and his lips closing on the skin as he sucked.

Hard.

"Lied?" Your question came out as a moan, pulling a guttural groan from him.

"Yes, I am going to bite you,” He growled in your ear, both hands now tight on your hips. “But only if you want me to, love," he added, a bit of uncertainty laced in his voice as his grip loosened to give you an out if you wished.

Without a thought, you nodded frantically, a trembling “Yes” being whispered to the empty portion of the room. One of his arms moved around your middle while one of his legs pushed the pair of you away from the table.

Big hands moving over your body, he spun you around, manhandling you until he had you exactly where he wanted you.

Straddling him.

Placing your hands on his chest in feverish shock, you felt his heart hammering under his plastron. And the intimate position allowed you to get a good look at him in the low lighting. His eyes were completely blown black, his lips slightly swollen from loving you.

His hands came up, pulling your face to his. One of his thumbs moved to your chin, pulling your mouth open just as his tongue found its way through your lips. Devouring kisses, as if it were you he had planned on having for lunch instead, his tongue exploring every inch. With a bit of suction, he pulled away, catching your bottom lip between his teeth.

You were unable to silence the whimper his sensuous affection had drawn out, and honestly, you couldn't care less. Your need for him had you grinding your hips down against his rock-hard member reflexively, a lascivious groan ripping from his throat in response.

"Jebus, what did they put in that sushi, and where can I get some?" Exclaimed Mike right before slamming the tatami room door, cackling loudly as he took off before his eldest brother could maim him.

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the-insomniac-emporium · 19 hours

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She's The Skeleton In My Closet (Mia Winters/Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil/Resident Lover

Genre: fluff? and whatever is a step down from smut

Rating: T? not quite horny enough for M.

Warnings: Brief, non-descriptive mentions of death/bloodshed, and relatively minor choking in a sexual context (it's more of a hand position than actual choking). Reader is referred to as a girl once by a side character.

Summary: It's the end of another loop, and Mia allows herself to get closer to you... through a game of Seven Minutes In Heaven.

Notes: Inspired by two pieces of art by @vivi-ness, specifically this and this. If you want to skip to the part of this fic that actually takes place in the closet (aka the making out part), start reading after the second section break -----. I did not mean for the lead-up to be as long as it ended up being. Also might make a part 2 with actual smut?

Alone. Curled up with the brazen darkness wrapped around her like a blanket, Mia’s eyes straining, as she glanced over her notes by candlelight. Less than thirty feet away raged a party fit to shake the heavens. As with every semester, the Umbrella Sorority felt inclined to celebrate the end of exams. Blaring music, countless games on rotation, enough booze to drown the world (or set it all ablaze). Even the theatre kids know to defer to the sorority for this evening. Normally, Mia would not hesitate to join in, downing shots of whiskey and kicking ass at every other game, all the while keeping keen eyes on interesting people.

Ah, but not tonight. Not with the reset looming in the distance, date preselected. Another loop on death row. There was plenty of work to be done, mostly preparations for the ritual, but Mia’s focus was on… other matters. Scanning through old tomes, searching for something that may prove useful in the next rotation. Maybe not enough to finally end the cycle, no, of course not, just something to influence it. Push it in the right direction, despite Miranda’s many protests regarding “interference”.

But there’s a knock on the door, and Mia pauses, unsure if it was simply the bass speakers thumping the walls again. A beat passes before the knock repeats, louder this time. Off-tempo. Quickly, she places her journal aside without marking her place (she remembers, of course, that it is page 28), then blows out the candles. Even as the darkness swallows the last sanctuary of light, her movements are smooth, flowing. In one motion she flips the light switch and unlatches the door.

“What’s up?” She asks, sickly sweet and every bit faking it, staring down at the unexpected visitor. They’re a sophomore, she thinks, a small woman whose name starts with an A. Or an E, maybe. Most loops have her just barely in Mia’s peripheral, sharing a single class but never really interacting. Definitely not the person she would have wanted to come knocking at her door. Only a brief moment passes before the woman replies, her gaze briefly (and unsubtly) scanning the room, voice filled with the unironic enthusiasm that made her grate on Mia’s nerves.

“Well, we’re one person short for 7 Minutes in Heaven- we had enough people, technically, but a few left after Cassandra got picked early, you know how it is- and so I was wondering if you’d join? It’s so weird not having you at the party, anyway, really feels like we’re missing an integral piece of the vibe, you know?” Alissa (if that was her name) says, offering a lopsided smile. Faint pink dusts her freckled cheeks, only some of it being makeup. One of her hands starts to reach for Mia, to rest a flirtatious hand against her shoulder, but the flash of something darker in her expression makes Alissa pull back.

“Oh, I would love to play, but technically my exams aren’t finished,” Mia answers, sporting a half-assed pout, dragging the words out. She lets her tongue click on the t in technically for emphasis. It’s not the best excuse, especially considering Elise (or whatever her name is) also still has one final left. All because the student council took one day too long to remind a certain professor that he couldn’t force students to complete a ritual as part of their exam. Not that Mia would have minded a little school-sanctioned bloodplay, especially since she knows (from experience) that the ritual Dr. Wesker had in mind wouldn’t work.

“C’mon, Mia, we both know you don’t need to study for our Occult Sciences class; you could probably teach it at this point!” Anna (Áine?) chimes, grinning wide, blissfully unaware of the true accuracy of her statement. Mia could teach the class, far better than the actual professor, although at that point it would be considerably harder to keep the university’s secrets. But that doesn’t mean she has any interest in joining the party.

Her reluctance must show, because the shorter woman (whose name may or may not be Enya) squints, lips pursing before she abruptly straightens up and switches tactics.

“Besides… your favorite person is playing,” she adds, leaning in to stage-whisper, glancing down the hallway as if checking for eavesdroppers. Despite the confidence in her voice, Mia stares at her blankly. As much as she definitely has a favorite, the one her very soul is bound to, she finds it unlikely that Eliza would know… right? It’s not like they’ve even spent that much time together this loop. Surely she’d been able to keep her cards close to her chest; it’s not like Eliza was terribly observant anyway. Unfortunately for Mia, her thoughts get cut off by another high-pitched exclamation. “Don’t play dumb, Mia! The girl with one earring, roommates with Angie and the youngest Dimitrescu?”

Well. Fuck. So much for being subtle…

-----

Turning down Anamaria (no, not that one, the other one) became impossible the second Mia’s eyes lit up, all at the mere mention of you. Within a minute she had relented, murmuring a few choice words under her breath, allowing herself to be all but dragged to a crowded living room. It takes all of her willpower to maintain a guise of boredom, lips drawn tight as she scanned the partygoers for familiar faces. A slight tension formed in her chest as she intentionally avoided looking at the center of the room, having caught a glimpse of familiar clothing, saving the sight for last.

Caldwell is by the back corner, playing some complicated boardgame with a mildly enthused Stanley (and a confused but nonetheless supportive Jasmin), positioned where they can keep an eye out for trouble. All three of the Stans could be found hovering by the alcohol, debating whether to leave now or wait for Cassandra to inevitably grab a refill. Somehow Anamaria (yes, that one) was half asleep, tuckered out from one too many party games, curled up against a blushing Livia. Both were chatting with Angie, who was perched precariously on the back of the couch. The only thing keeping the short girl from falling off was a hand clutching one of her belt loops, pulling as necessary to rebalance her.

As Mia’s eyes traced the hand to its owner, she inhaled sharply, the slightest flare to her nostrils. There you are. Eyes crinkled at the edges while you laugh at one of Daniela’s jokes, the sound barely audible past the music, your mouth open in a genuine, shameless grin. Mia allows herself a single moment to admire the view. Luck plays a trick on her then, your gaze suddenly shifting to her, eyes widening when you meet her stare. Immediately you look away, warmth in your face contrasting the way your shoulders tense.

If Mia hadn’t torn her gaze away, flinching like she got burned, she would have seen the way your friends reacted, the way they jumped at the opportunity to tease you. Instead, she lets herself get tugged over to a spare chair by the woman hosting the game.

“Damn, Iris, I didn’t think you’d actually convince Mia to play,” Nicoletta says, trailing her eyes up and down Mia, appreciatively, before turning to the one who had dragged her here. Guess her name doesn’t start with an A or an E after all, Mia thinks, before shrugging off the attention. None of these people know her terribly well, beyond reputation, and she can’t be bothered to unpack why they wanted her here.

“I mean, I kind of had to, with how hard Iris was begging me,” Mia says, pointedly ignoring their gazes in favor of inspecting her nails (short, smoothed over, no polish today). Protests stream from next to her, while a few chuckles rise up around the room. A smirk crosses her lips as she makes eye contact with Iris. Before the woman can explain that Mia only agreed because you’re playing, she speaks up again, propping her feet up on the coffee table as she does. “So, are we drawing names from a hat or what?”

“Close, half of us already put a trinket or whatever in the bag. Anyone who didn’t put one in gets to draw one at some point,” Iris explains, eager to move past the embarrassment from Mia’s lie. “Since you had to be… convinced, you can go ahead and be the one to draw next. Once the lovebirds in the closet are done, that is!”

Nodding, Mia withdrew into herself again, content to sit in silence until her turn. Why had she agreed to this, exactly?... It’s not as if she’s ideologically opposed to party games, but she’d always been more of a fan of the ones that involve drinking. Maybe spin-the-bottle, if she was in the mood for it. But Seven Minutes In Heaven? Too time-consuming, and absolute torture if one got stuck with the wrong partner. What were the odds she’d even get paired up with you? Was that even what she wanted?

Something about this particular loop was messing with her head. Every other one so far involved you falling in love with somebody, even if it ended poorly. But this time?... She had been sure you’d end up with Daniela or Angie, with the way you pushed studies aside for parties, never officially joining the sorority but being a frequent guest at their dorm. Living it up, only getting serious when you helped break Daniela’s curse (not because you loved her, but because you love her, the same way you pour your heart into loving all of your friends).

That’s why the reset was looming overhead, of course. Your faith in Miranda lay shattered, if it had ever existed in the first place, your distrust a crime she considered worthy of oblivion. Any life where you would not love her was, to Miranda, a life unfit to continue.

Mia gets pulled out of her thoughts by a door opening, old hinges squawking in protest. Two flustered women readjust their clothing as they exit the closet, both sporting bright red cheeks, utterly oblivious to the fact that they had swapped shirts. Naturally, they are not allowed to remain ignorant for long, a chorus forming of drunken cheers and teasing remarks. Not everyone focuses on the couple, however, and Mia feels the weight of someone’s gaze on her.

Once more she looks to you, just in time for you to look away, although this time she notices something odd: You aren’t wearing your earring. How interesting. Suddenly she finds herself itching to take her turn, but she suppresses her thirst, not wanting to earn any gentle ribbing from the others. Another minute passes before the paper bag actually gets passed to her, Iris winking as their fingers brush up against each other. Maintaining eye contact, Mia reaches into the bag, offering a smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes.

There are still five or six items inside, some of them in familiar shapes. A watch with a cracked face, one of those tiny skateboards (a Tech Deck, maybe?), a basic bracelet… None of them interest her, but it only takes another second for her to grasp her target, the cool surface smooth under her touch. Carefully, she retrieves it, ensuring the earring doesn’t snag on any of the other items.

With a triumphant smirk, she holds it up in the light. Although disappointment shows in Iris’ face, Mia can’t help but notice the way Daniela nudges your side with a knowing grin. Even Angie turns to whisper something in your ear, almost tumbling off the couch with how hard she laughs at the instant flush to your face, exasperation clear in your posture. Nonetheless, you rise on shaky legs, not meeting Mia’s gaze as the two of you move towards the unoccupied closet…

-----

“Have fun in there! Seven minutes starts when the door closes,” Iris chimes, having readopted her mask of overexcited joy, all but pushing you in after Mia. There’s a sharp click right after, the door settling into place. Another click, softer, and the small space becomes sparsely illuminated. You blink a few times to adjust to the dim lighting, glancing up in time to see Mia… on her phone? Before you can question her, she taps a button and sets it down on one of the shelves behind her, and you catch a glimpse of a timer on the screen.

“Six and a half minutes,” she says, as if that was all the explanation needed. Then she’s leaning forward, expression blank, hands reaching out to-... put your earring back where it belongs. It’s an oddly intimate experience, feeling out of place in a game that focused on a different kind of intimacy. If only it lasted longer than a few moments. Once she pulls away, there’s a noticeable flush to her cheeks. “Wouldn’t want anyone to catch us in a compromising position, right?”

Despite her words, Mia makes no further moves to touch you. One hand fiddles with the hem of her jacket, the other tucks her own hair behind her ear, the movement awkward in the cramped space. It’s easy enough to mistake her countenance for a kind of nervousness. Playing wasn’t her idea, after all, and you feel a twinge of guilt for being so excited about getting paired with her. Could she tell? Was she worried by the thundering of your heart, by the warmth of your presence?

Internally, however, Mia is struck with the sudden urge for her favorite brand of intimacy: Violence. Of the last eighteen times she was this close to you, with your breath just barely ghosting her skin, sixteen of those meetings had ended with homicide, attempted or otherwise. Gods, it was her curse, to only know your touch when she initiated it with heavy hands. To be so well acquainted with the feeling of your blood on her skin that it has become more familiar than her own. When was she last able to touch you without the many promises of pain? Can she even trust herself to love without consuming?

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, I know you probably weren’t planning on this tonight,” you say, softly, offering a weak smile. Now you’re the nervous one, rubbing your arm as if the sensation might smooth out your anxiety. It’s not until you feel Mia lean the slightest bit forward that you dare to meet her gaze. Something haunts her expression, lying beneath the flushed cheeks and hooded eyes. Before you can even blink, she’s brought her hand back up, cupping your chin and making sure your gaze never leaves hers.

“And if I do want to do something?” Mia whispers. One of her fingers shifts, gently tracing over the front of your throat. If only you knew how excited she got by the feeling of your heart racing beneath her fingertips. In contrast, she is all the more aware of the way your breath hitches at her touch. The way you look up at her with dilated pupils makes her every bit hungrier. Just one taste, she thinks, eying your lips. How was it fair that in all these loops, she had never once gotten to kiss you? “Tell me you want this. Say it, or I go right now, game be damned.”

She knows it’s not fair to put that pressure on you, to make you choose that very second. But she doesn’t care, not at all, not when she knows you’re already on the brink of giving in.

“Please, Mia,” you say, voice almost whiny from sudden need, a hand moving to clutch her jacket. More words get stuck in your throat, a part of your mind still keenly aware of how swiftly the mood has changed. Had Mia ever been nervous? Maybe, maybe just not the way you had interpreted her to be. No traces of hesitation can be found in her expression as she slides her hand lower, fingers resting on either side of your neck, only enough pressure for you to really feel her. A silent urging for you to spill the rest of your plea. “I want you.” You swallow hard, trapped by her touch, yet desperate for more. “I want this. Please. Please kiss me.”

In an instant she’s pulled you forward, lips crashing against yours; her hand on your throat is the anchor tying her to you. All other thoughts are crushed under the weight of her messy embrace. There’s just her. Instinct drives your movements, all of the desire that had built up this semester coalescing into a kiss, into the way your hand ends up fisted in her hair, the other sliding beneath her jacket to grasp at her shirt.

Mia’s fingers never tighten around your neck, never put any pressure on your windpipe, yet they still hold power over you. It’s her movement that changes the angle, that deepens the kiss until your lips part for her. You swear you can feel her hunger, the need radiating from her, and yet you have no idea how much she is truly holding back. Every bit of your hunger was matched and exceeded by her.

Your feelings, hidden until now, had gnawed at your heart for half a year. Hers had hounded her for countless loops. The hand on your throat is a warning to herself, arm a barrier to keep her from coming any closer. It’s not enough, her free hand itching to touch and tug, to begin unraveling you. Mia presses the hand to the wall behind you, clenching it into a fist. That might have done the trick… if not for the way you shift a moment later. As soon as your thigh starts to slot between her own, she throws out any sense of caution, giving in to this one chance to be with you.

“So eager for me,” Mia murmurs, having pulled back for just a moment, finally pulling her hand from your neck (you miss it, miss the warmth, miss her guidance). There’s a split second where you think you see love in her eyes- and then your back is flat against the wall, both her hands on your hips, her mouth pressing open kisses along your jaw. A tug encourages you to move your thigh again, letting her seek out that friction she so desperately needs. “So fucking good to me,” she whispers, breath hot against your cheek.

Then she’s practically nipping at your throat, relishing your gasp, only to eagerly soothe the skin with gentle kisses. Something like a growl leaves her as she starts to grind against your thigh, grip on your hips growing tighter. Each moment has the kisses growing more intense again, paired with more soft bites, making it harder and harder to keep yourself from moaning. When her hands start rubbing circles against you, it becomes impossible to stay completely quiet.

Both a blessing and a curse, your sound comes at the same time that Mia’s phone starts to vibrate, signaling the end of your time together. Instantly she’s peeling herself off of you, wiping her mouth with the back of hand, muttering a few swears in between shaky breaths. Following her lead, you try to smooth out your clothing and collect yourself. But that’s much easier said than done, neither of you satisfied at leaving things here, both itching to finish what you started.

“You should stay,” Mia starts to say, shrugging off her jacket. Each word sounds like she has to force it out. “After the party ends. I could… I could use the company.” This time the words come easier, accompanied with a crooked grin, and she doesn’t hesitate to drape her jacket over your shoulders, covering up the marks she definitely left all over your throat. More than that, it’s her way of making sure everyone knows that you’re with her tonight.

The door swings open before you have a chance to respond to her offer. For a moment the light feels blinding, and when you reopen your eyes you see that Mia’s already started walking away, ignoring the reactions of other partygoers. You would be disappointed… but this is the first time you’ve seen her without a jacket, and now you find yourself with a new appreciation for her arms, already picturing yourself getting pinned beneath her. Something to look forward to later tonight, you suppose.

#yay! I finished it before my surgery!...#mia winters #mia winters x reader #mia winters x mc #resident lover #reader insert #x reader #there are two references in this. if you get either one I love you #one is for a movie I've never watched #the other for a song I love #not beta read btw #i'll schedule this to be reblogged a couple times but be aware I might not see responses for a bit #depends on how quickly I recover from surgery

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gabrielsbubblegumbitch · 1 day

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First off, I absolutely adore your in-depth analysis and fantastic understanding of the Hazbin characters!! not sure how much you've touched on this topic particularly, but I'd love to hear your take on it! (esp w/ its relevance in szn 2)

How do you interpret the past dynamic between Vox and Alastor? Do you think Vox was genuine, close friends with Alastor, or were there hidden agendas of any kind? Given just how much their ideals and *everything* clash in present day, im curious yet struggling to pinpoint what exactly what MADE them acquaintances (and as close as they are implied to have been), besides solely their connection to technology and entertainment media, before their inevitable fallout. did Vox reallyyy change that much during his time in Hell? (or was there always an underlying tension between them?) (also, just, what the hell happened between these two)

Awww thank you ❤️

So, when it comes to Vox and Alastor, I think what brought them together was their ambition. Both of them crave power, though they define it differently. In my headcanon, at the beginning, Vox was more like Alastor because he didn't have enough influence to be his perfect self. Starting from nothing was hard for him because, like most capitalism lovers, he had never experienced building from scratch. Even though Alastor was simply useful to him, whatever they had was real. But it wasn’t genuine, because Vox is a narcissist, and we often attune to others perfectly. He liked Alastor, so he portrayed himself as someone Alastor would also like. In Vox's mind, this was just a way of caring for their friendship.

Additionally, Alastor is a very guarded person, so he wasn't fully genuine either. He hid things from Vox and often manipulated him because he knew how much Vox cared. Alastor cared too—he saw Vox as a perfect addition to his friend group, someone he could see as an equal. Knowing how driven and ambitious Vox is, Alastor seriously hoped they could rearrange Hell together, get rid of all the Overlords, and make the game more interesting.

The first issue that arose was Vox's greed. He wanted to expand (I wrote more about him here), but not in a way that Alastor liked. This was the first time Alastor realized that Vox might want to overthrow the ruling class just to take their place. Vox tried to explain that it was completely different—overthrowing old money would give power back to the people, creating a perfect anarcho-capitalist utopia, the ultimate survival of the fittest—something he and Alastor both wanted.

They were just two friends who started with a common goal but eventually realized they had very different ideas about making it real. Think Charles Xavier and Magneto or Dumbledore and Grindelwald. They began to notice flaws in their plan. On paper, a society where anyone can achieve high social status through determination and hard work sounds very free, very much up Alastor's alley. But upon deeper inspection, they realized that capitalism cannot exist without oppression and surveillance. It’s just a matter of whether it’s the government or corporations doing it.

Tension grew, and at some point, they couldn't stand each other. Especially when feelings came into the equation. Alastor hated that Vox loved the idea of him. He knew they were completely incompatible, and Vox would never truly love him, so it felt objectifying to know that, in Vox's mind, he wasn't even a real person, just something Vox wanted him to be. On the other hand, Vox was terribly frustrated with Alastor not playing along with his fantasy. They could have become the most powerful couple in Hell, but Alastor rejected both his advances and his ideas. However, the toxicity worked both ways—Alastor felt betrayed by Vox, so he became unnecessarily cruel and neglectful, trying to punish Vox for being who he was.

Okay, I know this take is filled with my personal headcanons, but I think that canonically their relationship followed this pattern of alliance based on common goals and mutual (mis)understanding, eventually falling apart after realizing they actually wanted very different things.

Regarding its relevance in season two, I expect that we will learn their exact backstory. I hope that after years of feeding into hate and bitterness, they will escalate this conflict until there's nothing but scorched earth. Also, I think we will learn that Alastor does, in fact, care deeply—he hates Vox fiercely but hides it better.

#hazbin hotel #vox #vox hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #ask #headcanon

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saintsenara · 3 days

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Voldemort/diary horcrux

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

banging your clone is a tried-and-true trope for a reason - so obviously both halves of this pairing are going to be into getting down to it together, since nailing another bit of your soul is basically the same thing.

but it flops, i fear... diary!voldemort is more disappointed than he'd like to admit in how he's not hot anymore, while adult!voldemort had forgotten how much he used to like talking during sex [which his lovers are too frightened of him to do - especially once his nose disappeared] and therefore finds that his horcrux's love of wittering puts him off his game.

i hate that for them both.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #unhinged and deranged ships #tom riddle #lord voldemort

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chitoge · 8 months

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Lucy | Tamaji ※Permission to upload this work was granted by the artist.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk edgerunners #lucy #cat girl #sobbed like the biggest baby after finishing this anime #I recommend it 10000%#especially if you are a lover of the game #going to be thinking about it for a long time #<3

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presiding · 6 months

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genuinely admire those who were optimistic for dishonored 3 but in this videogame industry climate and [insert a 4hr video essay about arkane's recent history here], honestly, not getting dh3 is good news

#dishonored #arkane studios #i know its silly to meme when the take is nuanced #and i admit that blade is one hell of an aesthetic. but i'm sitting out of this #somewhat being a hater yes. but that is because i am a lover #i dont think its pointless hater-ing though to be critical of something i wish i could love more #my takeaway from arkane is that its better to be not a fan of a company. a company does not make games #a company's staff does. and those staff need to be treated well and given budget and breathing room to make good things #and i have my doubts about that at the moment. very well documented and supported doubts #if arkane is given AAA budget to make a game. it probs wont be another dh. except maybe a remake bc those are 'safe' bets.#ie. dh1 remastered would sell #judging by doto and even dh2 (which i loved even tho its flawed). i dont think arkane really 'get' why dh1 was magical #so im not sure that a third in the series could necessarily recapture it #especially as theyve confirmed they're closing the drawer on the current overarching plotline #this is the hater corner celebration! i am pouring you a drink! [pres why does this look like blood?] we like themes n motifs here!#pres rants in tags #anyway mutuals lets make a fan edition of dh3 for shits n gigs

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maddymoreau · 2 months

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Why is everyone in Fallout 3 extremely hot

#I’m not going to live-blog Fallout 3 since I’ve had a LARGE amount of the game spoiled for me.#¯\_(ツ)_/¯ So I feel like that defeats the purpose of a live-blogging.#BUT GOOD LORD IF THERE’S ONE THING THE FALLOUT SERIES KNOWS HOW TO DO IT’S MAKE HOT MEN!!!!!!!#Mister Burke becoming a stuttering mess because I called him lover was so attractive.#THE WAY HE DID A 180 ON HIS EVIL PLANS LMAO!!!!#ALSO BUG IF YOU’RE READING THIS I MET YOUR BOYFRIEND GOB!!!!!#Gob’s design is *chef kiss* WOOF WOOF BARK BARK!!!#Great taste as usual!!! ALSO I FEEL SO BAD FOR HIM!!!!!!#Once I figure out how to do it without getting caught I’m going to kill Moriarty 🫡!!!!!#I’ve heard there’s a lot of ghouls in Fallout 3 so I’m VERY excited to meet them. Especially fan favorite Charon.#I LOVE BEAUTIFUL MEN!!!!!!!!!#Butch was a bully but hearing how happy he was I saved his mom was very cute.#ALSO HE GAVE ME HIS JACKET AS A THANK YOU!!!! AND LIED WHEN THE GUARDS ASKED IF THEY HAD SEEN ME!!!!!!#⭐️ Not as big of a jerk as you could’ve been ⭐️#MaddyPlaysFallout3 #Fallout 3 #If I had to rank them (off my own personal taste) it’d be 1. Mister Burke 2. Gob 3. Butch.

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kohakhearts · 9 months

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anyone else think theres some kinda bizarre love triangle going on between the player and the dlc siblings cause thats all i took away from it lmao. cant wait for part 2 so i can take carmine on a true american date

#taylor.txt #sv spoilers #teal mask spoilers #in my tags —>#like does kieran not take you on a date that you then ditch to conspire with his older sister? and he confronts you? and is like #hey what the fuck. you guys hate me dont you. etc #and then at the end carmine goes to say something to you but is interrupted by briar and like. i know it was what she says later about #outsiders in her village #BUT DIDNT THAT SEEM LIKE AN INTERRUPTED CONFESSION OF SOME SORT…….especially since she singles you out anyway #and goes youre special :) i’ll see you again no matter what :)#meanwhile her brother is doing his hair up for our next epic rivals to lovers meeting on the other side of the world #also actually i know that the player in any given pokemon game is obviously on some chosen one shit but i agree with kieran and deserve his #ire cause like…this aint my village. i didnt know shit about this fucked up mask-wearing cat that imprinted on me #who is really cute btw i appreciate that sv goes out of its way to make me feel strongly about the legendaries #cause koraidon was like my little sandwich thieving puppy and ogerpon is my stray cat #i havent ever had a mainline pkmn game do this to me. only ever how pokemon unbound made me feel about hoopa lmao #side note: need to find out if ogerpon has a 100% lonely nature or i just happened to get one that has one LMAO

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delta-piscium · 1 year

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Make Me Write!

tagged by @starryeyedjanai @scoops-stevie and @matchingbatbites thank you so much <3 (this is actually so needed)

Rules:

Make a 24hr poll listing the titles of every WIP you want to work on. (It’s fine if you only have one, still make a poll for the vote count)

Tag anyone you think might also enjoy this game. (No pressure of course)

Whichever WIP title gets the most votes, write 1 sentence for every vote. If it gets more votes than your comfortable with, feel free to swap it to words.

If somehow that completes the fic or reaches the end of a chapter, move to the WIP with the second highest votes and continue where you left off on your sentence/word count. Repeat until you reach your goal.

(Optional) Share what you wrote in a new Tumblr post with a link to your original poll or attached it to a reblog.

i know so many people have already done this and been tagged but you can just use it as an excuse do it again (if you want, no pressure as always) so tagging: @sidekick-hero @wynnyfryd @ghost--enthusiast @outpastthebrakers @strangersatellites @stobinesque @corrodedbisexual @willowworkswithwords @scarcrossdlvrs @steves-strapcollection

#you don't even know how badly i need this pls vote i can't decide #me with zero context for these especially the dnd one... it's good tho i told my friend about it bc she knows the character and she's excit #it's a fuckbuddies to lovers story with so much bullshit and running in between and also musician eddie (:#it's my most outlined one too the other ones who knows what could happen (i do mostly)#yes i title my works like that okay it's how my brain works - that or stupid acronyms but i avoided those bc ??? even more unclear #poll #wip game #my post #tag game

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carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich · 4 months

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Ngl as someone who was solidly entrenched in diahell for about 7 years, I keep forgetting that not everyone is accustomed to dark content, particularly unhealthy romance stuff, in their fiction. However this only really struck me when I encountered discourse on Ascended Astarion from BG3, because while the relationship with him is definitely unhealthy, compared to some of the shenanigans in DL it seems tame to me.

#I definitely appreciate that it's not going to be everyone's cup of tea #especially as BG3 is not specifically a dark romance game unlike DL #and I do think the people who claim the relationship with him is healthy need to take a bit of a closer look #but still when people get outraged about the stuff he does #A part of my brain goes yes but he didn't pour hot wax on you or poison you or nearly drown you #or kill your lover right in front of you or trap your soul inside a stuffed animal for all of eternity #I could easily just keep going aysfghks #Like I'd argue even Toma from Amnesia is worse

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enobariasteeth · 1 year

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Loving the hunger games resurgence but some of y’all’s takes fucking suck

#I hate the “prims reaping was rigged’ take.#no. no it wasn’t. that’s the whole point #I’m seeing some AMAZING takes and theories #but some of y’all need to learn to read #especially the ‘clove and Cato were the real star crossed lovers’#just… no #they’re a fun ship but no #also a lot of gale stans are popping up #if you think she should’ve picked gale I’m just gonna assume you didn’t read the books #hunger games #the hunger games #thg

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siliconforbrains · 5 months

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Shoutout to @stackslip for buying me In Stars and Time as a Christmas gift, I've only just started playing the game and I'm already going bonkers <3

#maxisrambling #in stars and time #isat #max plays isat #<- yall better block this tag if you dont want to get swamped with my reactions to the game /lh #anyway siffrit my adored hes just like me fr #cant wait to see them go Through It lmao #and i find especially funny how eli immediately knew i would enjoy this game #bc im a big lover of time related tropes and he KNOWS IT #ty babe im fully ready to go feral over yet another set of blorbos <3

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curiouschaosstarlight · 5 months

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yessss do all of them. For gensh <3

(I had to take this off of the official numbered list because my rambles are just too rambly, and tumblr started yelling at me......) 1.) my beautiful cinnamon roll too good for this world fave: Bennett!! Bennett, Bennett, Bennett, I choose Bennett-- Also Chongyun and Freminent. Somft boys. Doing their best. Also could kick your ass. Also I have all of them. :3c (...Very sad that I had to take Chongyun off my main team, because Bennett's about to C6 and render him useless.)

2.) my trash-shit fave: I have no idea what this means, but I'm gonna guess that Dottore and Scaramouche belong here-- Especially Dottore; he's the guy giving me the MOST brainworms right now. (But I can't share most of the brainworms because I'd have to explain all the reasons why my version of him turned out the way he did, then be told I'm wrong anyway, so.) Anyways, I love Scaramouche/Wanderer's entire story, I love that he Has Problems but those problems aren't JUST that he's a little asshole bitch for no reason like fandom keeps trying to claim. Also I want!! Playable Dottore!! I want him so bad. Sure sure, to some people having him redeemed would be soooooo boring, but- Personally, I only have a certain amount of fun with villains that are villains for the evulz, and I LOVE characters with Potential (potential for both better and worse, sometimes even for the same reasons); also a lot of certain little details about Dottore gives me the vibes that he isn't the one-note crazy man basically everyone writes him as, which is apparently, supposedly backed up by the actual og Chinese writing of a few things. And I genuinely think that ANY way they go about redeeming him/making him playable -- be it revealing Tragic Backstory reasons, or a begrudging process, or "well I've decided I like and respect you, so sure, I'll behave, for now >:)" -- would be interesting no matter what they go for!! ...I'm genuinely gonna cry a bit if they do opt to just kill him off ;v; but if Gensh goes that route, I do hope it's at least to an epic boss fight or something. Full monster transformation, if possible.

3.) my I love to hate them fave: God, I have no idea, I'm not usually the type outside of very specific characters. I guess Signora might qualify? ...I'm not gonna earn much love with that one-- She's just, like...tragic backstory? Check. Pretty lady with beautiful theming and massive tits? Check. Front-story bitch? Yeah that's pretty fun! ...Why is it so hard to force her character to shift in writeys. Like, even thinking about alternate ways events could go on my own, it's like...she owns her own girlboss so hard, it borders on Ungrateful behavior (which tends to be one of the few kinds of behaviors characters can have that grind on my nerves). Apparently there's a chance she might get revived in Natlan, and honestly I'm hoping. I don't think it'll be the worst thing in the world if it doesn't happen, but I sure would like the excuse to put her back in the oven to bake some more, without having to wait for my brain to become actually hooked on her to do it.

4.) my I hate to love them fave: This one's gonna sound weird; Faruzan. ...Okay, okay, let me explain- So, y'all know how Faruzan had a boosted drop rate when Wanderer was first released? (...And I think it happened again when his banner came back around, but that's not important--) I was. SO. DAMN. DESPERATE. to get Wanderer. I had picked out a name for him months in advance (well, tentatively; some leaks a friend was looking at said you could name him, and I wasn't 100% convinced but I wanted to be PREPARED in case it really was true, and then it was!), both of my friends (including Devoid here <3) were pulling for him as well, and both got him before I did, which intensified my desire to get him. I had been saving up. I was doing SO MANY TEN PULLS. And I got. SO. MANY. FARUZANS. I think I had one ten pull that was, like, four Faruzans in a row. I had her C6'd extremely early on into my pulls, and then she just kept showing up. It was driving me mad. I don't really get too bothered by a character's in-game actions unless they're a specific kind of irksome, but messing with my pulls? That bothers me a lot-- Eventually I did get Wanderer, but I'd also gotten like...twenty or forty Faruzans in the process or something like that. It was ridiculous. And I was all set to just hate her forever. ...But then, like...her hangout comes out and that was really good. And then the event with Wanderer, Kaveh, Tighnari, and everyone happened, and THAT was also really good, and she's so affectionate towards Collei and hnnnnnn...Why's she have to be such a good character with such great taste in other characters?? Save me--

5.) my I wouldn’t piss on them if they were on fire non-fave: So, you know how I said that character actions don't tend to bother me outside of certain traits? Fucking. Royce. I hate Royce. I mean- I view Benny's entire ex-team rather unfavorably, but Royce's "almost-has-a-realization-just-to-backtrack-and-yell-at-Benny-again" behavior drives me up the goddamn wall. I'm sure there's other NPCs that piss me off but no one else I can remember by actual actions or name. I do have some playable characters I don't really like at all, but this category is very strongly worded for those feelings. (No hate to any Royce fans out there >////////< And also apologies, but this is probably the only time I'm gonna talk about him anyway, at least by name)

6.) my I didn’t care about them either way at first but the fandom makes such a big deal about them now I can’t stand them non-fave: I've been avoiding most fandom content precisely for this reason!! (...Unfortunately I've still gotten exposed to a bunch of shitty fan takes, but it for the most part hasn't shaken my character opinions much. My ship opinions however...) ...The most popular takes of Scaramouche and Dottore (by fans and non-fans alike) have only further solidified my personal vibes of wanting them more sympathetic and avoiding one-note portrayals like the plague. Signora has been on thin ice for a while because so many people are really fucking aggravating in regards to her, but she's yet to budge because I do feel mildly compelled about her. So hopefully that sticks. But I WILL absolutely despise Capitano out of sheer fan spite if he's revealed to be the 1st Harbinger, and there's a ~secret 10th Harbinger~, that is just, like...It's almost kinda neat, but so many people are being so bullheaded and shitty about it (mostly on reddit, I think), to the point it's invaded the wiki that I otherwise really respect for all the work that goes into it, that he just better fucking be the 10th or I will be UPSET.

7.) my I could take them or leave them kinda non-fave: Honestly, most of the cast. Up until about Sumeru, I really only cared about 2-5 characters per nation. Then with Sumeru and Fontaine, they've really knocked it out of the park with characters I absolutely adore and only one or two that kinda just fade out of my memory. I won't say which ones. !!!!!! IMPORTANT NOTE!! This has nothing to do with writing quality or design quality or "oh my subjective opinion is absolute fact and anyone who disagrees with me is a dumb stupid idiot with no taste" or anything like that- It's just that I wasn't vibing too strongly with most characters; not for any necessary particular reason or failure on Mihoyo's part or anything like that. Just how it turned out.

8.) my I will go down with this ship and I won’t put my hands up and surrender, there will be no white flag above my door. I’m in love and always will be fave ship: Dottore x Scaramouche is my BIGGEST ship right now, especially onesided. Especially reluctantly reciprocated. Primarily on Dottore's side. Also Fem Traveler/Lumine/Lillian x Everyone. Also Enjou x his weird "go ahead and beat me up" fetish-- Keep being funky you strange, fiery demon man. Love him. (Also Alhaitham x Kaveh, though I generally don't like looking at the fandom art for it unless my friend handpicks out the art for me, because their ver of Kaveh did irreversible damage to my brain and now when I see trans!Alhaitham and cis!Kaveh, my brain gets SO CONFUSED. It's just like "????? But that should be reversed, tho, obviously???" Like...no brain...it's not obvious. It's fine. You're just Attached.)

9.) my dirtybadwrong fave ship: Apparently Scaramouche/Kabukimono x Niwa is real controversial, which is very sad because I fucking love it, and also it seems like such an obvious and easy-to-like pick to me :P Also Kaeya x Diluc, which I know would/will? get me headhunted if this post shows up for the majority of the fandom. I'm probably forgetting a good amount of ships at the moment, but... (+ Bonus for both 8 and 9, but my extra myriad of Dottore ships where I'd probably have to explain how I ended up where I ended up, which means I'd have to explain the way I write Dottore, which means I'd have to explain-) ...Also Neuvillette x Furina APPARENTLY fucking qualifies, because as we all know, if the girl is short and cute and femme, she's automatically a child!! :) Don't y'all totes know she's Neuvillette's little baby girl daughter and not an adult and totally wasn't RUNNING AN ENTIRE NATION AS THEIR ARCHON for LITERAL FUCKING CENTURIES? Nope! Neuvillette, the person that totally wasn't working under her that entire time, has all the power in that dynamic, and totes sees her as a daughter, so it's problematic!!

10.) my they’re cute together and I dig them but I’m not all that terribly invested kinda fave ship: Most ships in the fandom, tbh. See- the problem is I don't really like protag Aether takes, and I'm just amicable to about 70% of the cast. And I might be a massive multishipping slut with few standards, but I do need to Feel Something towards characters to then Feel Something towards the ships, and when the general vibes I have with a character is "ah, they're neat" or "I like 'em well enough" or even "I don't really like them", that's just the kind of ~amicable vibes~ that lends to me going "that's cute! ...Anyway"

11.) my I didn’t care about this ship either way at first but the fandom makes such a big deal about it now I can’t stand it non-fave ship: Well, I have two. I won't say one because I think my vaguing gets more obvious if I say it outright, but someone I was following seriously bashed [ship I like a lot] while going "why dont people like THIS ship instead??? It's WAY BETTER!!", and. lemme tell you. If you want me to UTTERLY DESPISE your fave character or ship, the best way to do that is praise your fave while bashing another character or ship!! Fuck me, it doesnt even have to be a character or ship I even like, but for some reason it always fucking is. Like the sheer amount of people that go "Why dont people like [character] more??? They're much better than ITTO!!" like. 1. fuck you. 2. Itto has a MUCH LOUDER presence than whatever character you're trying to praise. 3. why does everyone always try to go after [specific ship I like a lot], or Itto? It's always them. Like they're making some big sweeping statement of "oh THAT dumb thing is getting attention for no reason!!" when like...entertainment factor, you knuckleheads. They're just onscreen and instantly make an impression. I'm really, really sorry your fave doesn't get as much attention, I get it, I really do, I've had barely popular/outright bashed faves before, but y'all actively hurt your case rather than helping it when you try to tear other characters/ships down to build yours up. I get that you're frustrated, but it's not fucking helping. Cut that shit out and then get back to me. Anyways. The other one that bothers the shit out of me for far more petty reasons is Wriothesley x Neuvillette, which. I feel bad about, to be fair. I feel sorta guilty for not liking it, because it definitely has potential. There's just one problem-- one of my biggest fucking pet peeves is ship bashing/attempted ship sinking (-gestures at my sarcasm a bit earlier-, which also sums up half of why I despise "child-coding" and "oh!! this small girl character is TOTES the daughter to these two gay men and definitely not responsible or mature in her own right uwu totally needs to be babysat by her two gay dads!!") in conjunction with people obsessing over other ships, and with Wriotheo and Nuevy, it started BEFORE the update happened and we actually saw any interactions. Like. I get it. They're two hot men and gay ships are hella popular. But with it occurring way before the update, thus way before any canonical interactions, it just felt like people were fucking desperate to make sure neither character could be straight-shipped with the two "children" they were actually working with (two full-ass adults, Furina and Sigewinne), which just drives me up the fucking wall. (And I can understand being uncomfortable with shipping characters that kinda resemble children, but I've seen way too many people go above and beyond any reasonable reaction to that sorta thing.) I want to like this ship. I really do. It could definitely be really good. But it's gonna take, like, a year or two, when we're in Snezhnaya and my frustration becomes a petty dumb memory instead of something I want to rant over. (...I'm sure this is gonna come back to bite me pretty hard, 'cause if this post makes the rounds people are gonna rush to be like "oh you're not OPPRESSED by gay ships!!" -> No one ever says they are unless they're a real smooth-brained fuckhead, "Oh, so we can't just have fun anymore??" -> I'm apparently not allowed to have fun, so neither are y'all. :\ If I can take fifty-million fans constantly trying to call me a terrible person for liking any of the ships and characters and takes I like, y'all can take one "this got on my nerves and I'm still mad even though I know it's dumb and petty")

12.) my MAKE IT STOP non-fave ship: Ready for me to burn another bridge? ...Can't stand Yae Miko x Raiden Shogun. Like- I see it, I absolutely see it, and I think it absolutely works, but. well. guess what? Guess that happened?? Shitty fans. Shitty fans that INSIST Yae Miko is canonically a man-hating lesbian and froth at the mouth if you dare even imply she MIGHT be the tiniest bit interested in a guy. I can't quite articulate how much I HAAAAATE when people try to claim their headcanon as canon and then treat other fans like shit for "violating canon" (that doesn't actually exist -- and god, even if it did, some of the behavior I've seen really goes above and beyond any realm of acceptability), and yeah. This is one of the biggest offenders. In general, I've noticed way more vitriol and toxicity out of f/f fans than any other kind of fan lately, and that is...ugh. again, I get it. Out of the ship combinations, f/f is probably the least popular in general and all that, and when you feel like your favorite stuff is getting passed over again and again for stuff you can't see the appeal in (trust me, I can relate, I've been in a LOT of fandoms), it's really, really frustrating. But also can we stop being shitty to other fans over subjective opinions? Fandom's supposed to be fun. I shouldn't feel like every other fan I follow would hate my guts over the pettiest of preference differences. (Yes this goes for more than just f/f fans, ofc, it's just those are the ones I've noticed the most recently.) !!! -> Please don't feel bad about liking any of the ships I listed ;v; For any reason-- I did Not put them down to shame anyone, and I don't judge anyone for liking ships and characters I don't like. I do judge behavior towards other fans, and if someone's really hostile to "competing" ships/characters, that also bothers me, but that's it. It's not the content itself that has or will ever bother me, so I really do hope no one who's reading this feels bad about their preferences...

->-> Primarily Unrelated but One thing that I lovehate about this, aside from the fact that if a bunch of people see this entire thing I'm DEFINITELY getting hatemail/a callout/something, but it also gives the impression I'm massively into m/m, which is amusing and frustrating at the same time. (Not the first time this sort of thing has happened, and I'm always self-conscious about it, because I hate when people have Incorrect Takes about my feelings/opinions, especially when I've openly described them but the other person's like "lol nope, I associate you with this more, so this is the truth now". Hate that shit.)

I'm actually primarily a m/f shipper (which honestly might be more controversial on tumblr, specifically tumblr, I'm not an ignorant dumbass about other places on the internet), that's just not how it turned out for Gensh, where I wound up mostly into the guy characters. Before I got extremely into Scaramouche (and then Dottore), Lumine/Lillian was my primary favorite character and the one I was focused on shipping with. She was also, like...the female character I liked the most, which I'm given to understand is an odd thing to say, I guess? Because western people don't usually like the protags of games?? Which is so weird to me. (<- Fresh off the Persona fandom where the Persona protags are also in my, like, top 5 characters of their respective games, and that is a hugely unpopular take for some reason.) (Though I guess I'm pretty weird in how I tend to play games and develop the protagonist's personality in my head + I usually prefer to play the fem character -> the fem protag of a game tends to be in my top 10 favorite characters)

For anyone curious, my preferences go m/f -> f/f -> m/m (least favorite), but that is also extremely arbitrary because of a few different factors, but primarily because I will write basically anything and everything. If I'm writing it and I'm having fun, then nothing bothers me, and I'll come up with all sorts of ships for all sorts of reasons. (Usually ships occur on a whim during rps, which then makes it hard to explain how I got to that result outside of rps...)

Anyways, I hope I explained my reasonings well enough m(_ _)m I could definitely ruffle more feathers if I, like, posted a character tier list or something, and I'm kinda tempted anyway, because...I dunno, a tiny part of my brain is like "hehe, stick it to the man >:3c", I guess? Despite the fact I would definitely not be actually "sticking it" to anyone, like If no one cared what I thought before, they're super not gonna care after this--

#ask game #devoidofdog #chaos opinions #the whole thing with Dottore (before anyone says anything about “oh you like DOTTORE stuff but not xyz?”)#the whole thing y'gotta understand #is that i've been utterly enraptured by evil doctors and mad scientists basically since...since kind of forever #Sailor Moon S DBZ Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde Spider-man The Suffering Pokemon and i could keep going on and on and on #and to some extent i feel like i fucking ghostwrote Dottore in like...#“even with the most evil most vile take this is still a character i absolutely would have written”#the only reason i wasnt instantly hooked on him is because i spent a portion of my hyperfixation unaware of his existence #once i knew about him it was ON-SIGHT #that's just a specific-to-me kinda thing #also “hey Chaos that's a lot of pre-assuming responses and trying to pre-counter them. wtf is up with that?”#well dear hypothetical reader i have been on tumblr for a VERY LONG TIME and i've seen lots of people get VERY ANGRY for lots of reasons #so if im already going to be rambling i might as well add elaborations and qualifiers and try to make my stances clear #for anyone reading me in any kind of good faith #if anyone's determined enough to read in very bad faith then there's not much i can do #(especially with a lot of my ship opinions which are Not Good To Have in the current fandom climate)#but i'd still like to try #as an aside i swear i am a Certified Villain Lover i just generally get way more motivated about villains with Potential For Good/Tragedy #than i do with villains for the evulz #like. i do have some unrepentant faves and i love them a lot but that's just usually not where my vibes lie #and yes im fairly passive aggressive in this in regards to that but it's because im still butthurt about #1. people trying to reduce the entire Wanderer storyline to literally nothing because either they dont get it or they stopped listening #and 2. i've seen WAY too many people lately complaining about gensh villains being “too nice” and tbh i #am so fucking done with people that are UPSET there's redeemable villains in fucking anything #i know it was the hip cool thing to complain about in SU but also i could still count the amount of stories where #everyone evil gets redeemed instead of dying on like. one hand.#and that shit still doesnt qualify for GENSHIN. YOU KILL A LOTTA FUCKERS IN GENSHIN AND LOTS ARE UNREPENTANT #tumblr ate the rest of my tags so if i decide to talk about this more it'll be in a different post :(

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