#i know that sounds weird but i try to incorporate it in the way she dresses too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoinkschief · 8 months

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Hello Jay, I would like to hear your headcanons about Tom and his mom 👀👀👀 Go on, speak into the mic 🎤

AAA HI NEIL I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED

Taps mic 🎤 ahem

Buckle in cause this got absurdly long I did not expect to get this long omll

So I guess I'll begin when he was younger,, when his mother and father first got married they were just going into their 30s, and while weren't actually trying for a kid they did end up having one: Tom

Barbara (Tom's mom) was ecstatic at having a kid whereas Peter (Tom's dad) was terrified, he knows he has anger issues and is very aware of how he's gotten easily frustrated with children in the past and doesn't want to get angry towards his soon to be son (though Barbs has been a dear with helping him and his anger, truly he'd be in jail by now if not for her)

Fast forward a bit, Tom's born and while Peter isn't magically cured of any anger issues, Tom is just the sweetest little guy and he, genuinely throughout his fatherhood, has not once gotten angry at his son. Gotten angry a good few things, but his son and wife weren't in that list

Tom is also born completely nonverbal (this is a little reference to how 2004 he's drawn without a mouth,,, I know that all the characters are at this time because mmm animation but in most fanart of 2004 only Tom is the one kept without a mouth because that and his one eye gives him creechur vibes I love it so I incorporated it like this) due to his autism, and he did get formally diagnosed early on due to this

It's a bit of a struggle trying to figure out what he's saying but he's a quick learner for how to read and write so if he can't get what he's trying to say through hand motions or actions he'll go and write it down (at least when he gets around 5yo, the years before were hard and they had to learn a weird, Tom version of sign language,, to clarify not actual sign language just learning what motions of his mean what)

One interaction I think about a lot with Tom and his mother is in Tom's youth when he's, maybe, 4? And he sees his mom shave her hair for the first time. Tom didn't like the sudden change as she looked like a different person and was having trouble understanding why it was gone

It took Barb a while to fully understand what he meant, why he was crying and whatnot, but finally able to sit him down in her lap he started making a lot of motions towards his own hair and then Barb's, and the interaction goes something like this:

"Are you talking about my hair?" Barbara quietly concerns, gesturing to her now bald head.

Tom made small grunts with wide eyes, rocking in his mother's lap incessantly.

"Okay, okay," She nodded holding her son's hand gently in her own- less so holding and more resting them in her own. "It's gone, baby."

Tom didn't seem to like that answer, shaking his head no with his hand reaching up to grab and tug at his his in distress. His eyes were screwed shut, why would his mom do that? But Barbara was quick to respond with carefully holding her son's hands again, their fingers interlaced as he squeezed on her hands instead in his temper.

"You don't like that it's gone?" She tilted her head to the side, bringing Tom's hands away from his face and towards her chest.

He shook his head no with an upset grunt, swinging his hands (and by proxy his mother's) side to side to drive the point further.

"Ohh,, pumpkin," Barbara gave Tom a sad smile, resting their hands in her lap as she gave him a small, reassuring squeeze.

"It’ll be alright-”

Tom hated that answer more, giving a frustrated noise as his eyes started welling with tears.

“Honey,” Barbara frowned at the tears coming out of her child’s eyes, it hurt to see him so upset, gently running her thumb along his cheeks to swipe them away. “I’m still mama, I’m still you mom.”

She led Tom’s hand over her heart, letting him feel the steady beating of it. The constant and steady pattern of thumping seemed to entrance him for a moment until his mild rocking and distressed noises slowly came to a halt.

“See? It’s still me, baby.” She cooed, running her thumb along the back of her son’s hand. “My hair is gone, but I’m here.”

“Sometimes, in life,” Barbara began, setting Tom’s hands down in his lap again now that he was calmer. “things change, and we can’t control it. Like my hair, you couldn’t control that, could you?”

Tom looked up from watching his hand feel the steady movement of her heart pumping, looking up at his mother’s face. He still looked displeased and upset, but less so, even going as far as to reach for where her hair used to be, trying to grab at the air around her head like it was still there. Fruitless.

She held his hand again, pressing it against her cheek with a broad smile, one she gave him often. He couldn’t keep his resentment for long, giving his own goofy smile back with a giggle. The way her gap tooth showed when she smiled that big was forever burned into his memory, only disappearing from her face so that she could kiss the palm of her son’s hand.

Tom shook his head, frowning at the thought but keeping a wide eyed expression to his mother as she continued her lesson. She smiled to him once again.

“Well, that happens a lot in life.” She sighed, cupping Tom’s cheek in her hand. “And no one likes it, you’re not alone for thinking that. But what you can control is how you deal with the change. Like how you showed me how upset you were, so now we’re talking about it. Do you feel better about it now?”

Tom took a moment, eyes casted down as he thought on it. He gave a small nod as he looked back up at her.

“Good.” She beamed. “And from now on, I’ll do my best to let you know beforehand when I make a change like that, alright?” She kissed Tom’s forehead, causing the child to give a small giggle. That was her favorite noise.

Now, Tom was always a Mama's Boy (not in a derogatory way, he just loved his mom a whole hell of a lot) but even moreso after his father died. They both were grieving and so it caused them to cling closer together because of it, to the point that had it not been for his friend (at the time only Matt, but later Edd too as this was before Tord was introduced to the friend group) he probably would've completely self isolated

They do a ton of things together as Tom gets over and they both eventually heal from Peter's death, baking, sewing, shopping, watch movies, anything they can do when they have the chance to hang out together

They were so close in fact that Barbara was genuinely the first person he came out to for being nonbinary (He/They pronoun user :) ) and of course she loved him unconditionally, but he didn't even tell Matt, Edd or Tord (now in Highschool and having been introduced to delinquent) that yet

However, later in his highschool years, around late Junior year (11th grade) or early Senior year (12th grade) of highschool his mother dies as well. Not from a freak bear with a gun attack though, instead from Pneumonia, which is something she tends to get a lot and always had in her youth, and while it usually isn't fatal and there is treatment and whatnot and she definitely took as much as help as she could, this time just hit different it seemed.

This really fucked with Tom during some of his most important years of his life and caused him to go into a BIG depressive episode for a long long time

Side note that I guess also kinda applies: Had it not been for Tord being just as stubborn of a jackass as Tom, he would've completely self isolated. Edd and Matt helped a lot in his youth but he also had his mom to encourage him, but now with his immediate family all gone he didn't see much of a reason to interact with people. And where Edd and Matt lack in persuasion, Tord more than makes up for in the lack of giving a fuck and would literally drag Tom outside even if he was kicking and screaming. This is mostly because Tord is second only to Tom himself in how durable he is, like a brick shithouse (built like one, too) and not afraid to make Tom hate him if it meant getting him better in the long run (a running theme I have for their relationship :) they're less so "GRR I HATE YOU I HOPE YOU DIE /GEN" and more of like have this weird understanding with eachother where like "I'll literally kill you if you touch me but I'd kill anyone you touched you" type beat, unafraid to get the other to hate them for the greater good because they have the understanding that they wouldn't do something so wildly stupid for no reason. Yes that plays into The End and the future events of WTFuture)

I love them so much oh my god you have zero idea

Anyway, TL;DR

Tom and his mom are extremely close and helped each other get through the worst of times while Tom continues to learn the lesson of "everything changes, it's out of your control, and you can only control how you proceed with it"

#jay talk #jay answers #also i just wanted to add: the reason Tom's mom is bald has nothing to do with any sort of illness or genetic disorder #she just was like “fuck it” and decided she wanted to shave it off #i know that sounds weird but i try to incorporate it in the way she dresses too #i chose this because one: [insert bowling ball joke here]#and two: to show her openness as a character and that's got nothing to obscure who she is #not wearing layers. usually not wearing long sleeves unless it's cold. same thing with pants and they're usually skinny if she does #character design is my passion and psychoanalysis is my game I'm sorry you have to deal with it lol #i really need to draw her more i love Mrs. Barbara Inkwell #and thank you Neil for asking this #I'm bursting at the seams /pos #and I'm trying to get back into the writer grind 💪💪 so this helps lol #sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask lol got my creative mojo back so I'm grabbing it by the reigns and multitasking #to the best of my ability without burning myself out that is #i guess i'll add the ew tags cause this is like a headcanon rant so #eddsworld #ew #ew tom #tom #ew tom's mom #tom's mom #ew oc ?#barabara #barbara inkwell #peter was mentioned #fun fact: he took barb's last name cause he despised his own last name :)#also her name's inkwell and that's sick as fuck #eddsworld headcanons

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sweetiecutie · 6 months

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🖤Fuck or Die part 2🖤

Part 1

Pairing: slasher! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, mdni, smut, non con so rape, violence, obsession, drugging, face-slapping and nose bleeding, choking, kidnapping, mention of murder. If you feel triggered by any of these warnings - just scroll past!

A/n: this took me way longer than I expected but yay, I finally wrote the second part!!! Also absolutely not me incorporating a quote from the movie bc I think it’s impossibly hot🤭

Reading part 1 is recommended for understanding the plot

Your life will never be the same. That damned evening changed you, everything around you, splitting your life into before and after.

Your memories of next few days after the murder were a sheer blur of events and conversations - numerous interrogations with police officers and detectives, psychologists trying to soothe you out of your stupor still, your mother crying her eyes out at the sight of you right after police arrived at the place of Paul’s death. And, of course, nasty journalists trailing behind you, watching your every move, invading your personal space unapologetically.

Of course, you were quite a catch - the first and only one who ever survived a meeting with König. Everyone wanted to know what he looked like - any particular details, scars or tattoos, a fucking skin colour - anything you could remember would be of huge use, giving at least any clues to a dead unmoving case. But there was very little you could help with - König took great care of covering every centimetre of his skin in black clothing, his voice changed, he smelled of nothing but earth and sickening metal of your boyfriend’s blood. Bastard was even smart enough to not cum inside nor anywhere actually, so that police couldn’t get his DNA samples.

A few months had passed since that horrific attack and there were still no traces of König.

It was midday when your parents had to leave to attend your grandma’s birthday - your mother was reluctant, not wanting to leave you all alone. You were never alone actually - a few police cars always patrolled right outside of your house, not allowing even postmen to get too close to your family’s property. It took a lot of reassuring and encouragement from your side to get your mother off your back, convincing her that you’ll be just fine by yourself and that you want your parents to have some fun. She then gave up with a deep sight, promising to be back in only a few hour’s matter.

You heaved a heavy sigh, closing and locking the front door after waving your parents goodbye, heading to the kitchen to grab yourself a drink. A pile of dirty dishes stacked in a sink caught your eye, the sight of its ugly mess on otherwise clean and tidy kitchen caused an itch somewhere deep in your brain. Without second thought you rolled up your sleeves, pouring dish soap onto the sponge and foaming it up.

As you were halfway through the dishes loud trilling of your landline phone calling startled you, causing you to jump on your spot. Your head whipped around, looking into direction from which the sound came. Wiping your wet hands on the kitchen towel you grabbed the phone, tucking it in between your ear and shoulder after accepting the incoming call.

- Hello? - you said, coming back to the sink, swiping foamy sponge over another plate, cleaning it of any grease and leftover bits of food.

- Hello! Um, can I speak to Paul? - your movements halted abruptly. You stood there silently for a long while, muscles stiff and unmoving, eyes staring blankly at some invisible point in the space before you.

- Excuse me, are you still here? Do I have the wrong number? - the man on the other end of the line said, his voice sounding concerned. It seemed to bring you out of your stupor as you drew in a long breath, exhaling noisily.

- Um, can I ask you how you got this number? - you said, already sensing something weird about this whole situation. But cops were all around your place, there was nothing to be worried about, right?

- Paul gave it to me himself. Said to call here if I needed to reach out to him, - man explained. That was strange but not unexplainable - Paul often hang out at your house, you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew your home phone number better than his own. - So am I calling right?

- Oh, yeah, sorry it’s just… Paul’s dead, - you said, teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek, sweet metallic taste coating your buds, but you couldn’t care less, nibbling deeper into small wound, feeling of slight pain grounding you successfully.

- Oh god, what happened? I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. But who am I speaking to then? - the man said, his voice now sounding genuine and apologetic. Everyone around Y/n suddenly sounded genuinely and apologetic. She heaved another sigh, resuming her scrubbing on the plates.

- He was murdered. And I’m his girlfriend, - you said in a calm tone, free of any emotion or feeling. Paul’s death was pretty much the only thing you talked about with others - police, detectives, police again, his parents and friends, your parents and friends. It seemed like such a sensitive topic turned into a rough callous way too quickly. - Well, I was his girlfriend, - Y/n mumbled after a short pause, faint clatter of porcelain audible in the background.

- Sorry about your boyfriend, - man on the line said. There was a brief moment before he added: - all those muscles didn’t help much, did they?

You froze. Silence settled in, interrupted only by occasional electric noise humming through the speaker. You heard your own pulse humping rapidly in your ears, your breathing fast and shallow, all muscles in your body tensing in alarm, straightening your back. Your eyes shoot up, looking out of the window above the sink. There were a few trees growing shallowly - barely an orchard - separating your house from your neighbours. No one was there.

- What’s that, sweet girl? You can’t see me? - a voice taunted, erupting herds of goosebumps running down your spine. - What a shame, I can see you clear as day.

- Neighbourhood is packed full with cops, you sick son of a bitch. If you only fucking dare coming anywhere close to my ho-

- Now-now, Y/n, - slasher interrupted you unapologetically, his voice hard and cold, causing thin hairs on your arms to rise. - Control your fucking language when you speak to me.

Your eyes dropped down onto the sink, fluffy dish soap foam was sparkling, playing with all the rainbow colors under the sun rays pouring in through the window. You clasped the phone in your non dominant hand, your dominant one reaching out and grabbing a kitchen knife from the drying rack, handle still wet and a bit slippery in your grasp.

- My, my, a dangerous thing that you’re holding. Be careful and don’t cut yourself, dearie, - König taunted, making your teeth clench. All blood drained out of your face, making you as pale as paper. Your eyes were fixated upon your window, peering into the orchard, desperately trying to spot any movement.

- What are you planning on doing? Everyone will hear if I scream. And cops will get your ass into prison, right where it belongs, - you spat out, pushing off the counter; your eyes ran all around the kitchen, looking for your cell phone with detective’s number saved, trying to keep the current call going so it’ll be possible to track it down.

- Oh will they? Then you better not scream, silly, - König snorted, making your blood boil. You were frightened still, terrified even; but the remorse of what he did to you, to Paul, was fuelling into your spite, making you a tad bit braver.

Failing to find your phone you entered the living room, rummaging through cushions and blankets piled on the couch, failing to find the stupid thing.

- Looks like you lost something. What’s up sweetheart? - you threw soft cushion back on the couch violently, huffing in annoyance upon not finding what you were looking for. You straightened and turned around to head to your bedroom, stoping in the middle of your tracks, freezing to the spot.

In the doorway leading to the hall stood König - dressed in all black, with heavy leather boots and his huge dagger strapped firmly to his thigh with a sheath, white scream mask staring right back at you. One large hand was pressing the phone to his ear, the other one was holding up your cellphone - the exact one you were looking for.

- You looking for this? - he asked, his own voice reverberating on the line because of your proximity.

You threw the phone to the side clutching onto the knife tightly. You dashed to the kitchen - there was a back door you could slip through - and outside was filled with neighbours and cops. Just pathetic six or so meters. Just a bit…

A scream tearing through your throat was muffled by a huge hand clamping against your mouth, the other one squeezing your wrist so tightly that for a fleeting moment you thought your bones were snapped, causing your grip on the knife to loosen, it falling down on the floor with loud clatter. König kicked the knife away across the kitchen, folding your arm back which caused your back to arch in pain - it felt as if he wanted to tear your limb from the rest of your body.

- Where do you think you’re going, Y/n? - König growled next to your ear, picking you up effortlessly and dragging your kicking form back to the living room.

Hauling you onto the floor König hooked one meaty thigh over your squirming body, putting bigger part on his weight down onto you, momentarily halting all of your struggle. One huge hand took ahold of both your wrists, pinning them to the floor above your head with frightening ease, his other hand was clasping your mouth still. He crouched down, scream mask was mere fifteen centimetres afar from your face as he seethed:

- Now you shut the fuck up and listen closely to what I have to say, and no one will get hurt, you get that? - he said, waiting until you gave him any sing of agreement. But you offered none. - You get that?! - König growled impatiently, bumping your head against the hardwood floor, causing black spots dance in the corners of your eyes for a long minute. You gave a weak nod, feeling hot tears running down your temples, getting lost among your hair.

- I’ve been thinking about you. A lot, - König sighed, hand that was on your face squished your cheeks together painfully, making your lips pucker out. - About this gorgeous mouth and pretty lips…

König crouched down, barely leaving a few centimetres between your faces.

- A this tight little cunt of yours. Remember how you clenched around me? How good my cock was filling you up?

- What do you want from me? - you weeped quietly, voice barely audible, broken by faint sobs and hiccups.

- Very little, dove. Just be an obedient girl and do as you’re told and no one will get hurt, - König tutted, taking in the sight of your crying face. Gosh, he was a sick fuck - his cock was already getting painfully hard, straining against his pants.

Letting go of your face König reached behind his back, withdrawing something from the rear pocket of his jeans. Just as you opened your mouth to cry out for help he shoved that thing inside of your cavity, slapping a hand over your lips so you won’t spit it out. The thing momentarily dissolved on your tongue, leaving a bitter aftertaste; you tried to struggle against killer’s strong hold, thrashing violently, but it led you nowhere.

Suddenly you felt hot - as if you had a really bad fever. Your mind clouding up rapidly, thoughts muddling, muscles becoming weaker by the second. You huffed out in frustration; moving your limbs a few centimetres seemed like impossible labour. World was spinning around you, blurring sharp and distinguishable features of König’s mask into a white haze.

König let go of your face once again, his now free hand slid down your body, cupping your sex through numerous layers of clothing separating you two. Sudden pleasure surged through your weakened body upon the contact; a loud moan that rolled off your tongue startled you - and suddenly you realised just how aroused you felt.

- Jeez, that dude didn’t lie about this shit, - König laughed out excitedly, watching your eyes widen in terror. You could barely move by now, not speaking of trying to fight off a man twice your size. His size. In a blur of all events, words and pain you never came back to just how fucking huge he was. You never mentioned that in any of your interrogations. How fucking stupid, huh?

Killer let go of your wrists cautiously, watching you closely - you rose your hands, resting your palms on his chest and pushing with all the might you had left, but it wasn’t enough to even push a cat off the chair - so that was the limit of your strength in this state?

König barked out another laugh - he was going to have so much fun with you! His hand never stopped massaging your crotch, noting a small wet patch forming on your shorts - you were soaked through your panties and now soaking your shorts? Gosh, he better buy a few dozens of these aids. Psycho’s eyes shot up to your face upon hearing a sob - tears ran down your eyes like small diamonds, turning your eyelids a pretty shade of red. König shifted forth so that his mask was almost touching your nose:

- Oh baby, I’ll be much gentler with you this time, I promise, - König cooed, pressing cold plastic of his mask against your flushed wet cheek, as if giving you a comforting peck.

Slasher shifted a bit, changing his position from sitting on your thighs to being in between them, yanking you towards him by your knees. He did quick job of taking your shorts and underwear off in few fluid moves, impatiently discarding them somewhere to the side. König felt his heavy cock twitch inside his jeans at the sight of your puffy cunny, all shiny from slick that practically oozed out of your fluttering hole. He swallowed hard, saliva was practically pooling in his mouth, having to restrain himself from tearing his mask off and devouring your cunt, exposing his face too early. You whined out something unintelligible, still trying to pry his fingers off one of your knees.

Your skin felt hot even through thick fabric of his gloves, so when König took one off and plunged two of his thick fingers inside of your tight hole he was surprised at how hot it was inside of you - one of the drug’s effects, he guessed. You couldn’t help but mewl at the pleasant feeling, your brain barely functioning, controlling yourself was beyond hard.

- That’s it, sweetness. Lemme hear all the pretty sounds you make, - König encouraged, plunging his fingers in and out of you, increasing the pace. Rough thumb coming to circle your slicked clit, causing your whole body to jolt softly. Scent of your pooling arousal was strong and prominent, seeping even through König’s mask, making him throb in his pants.

He couldn’t wait any longer. König was dreaming about your pussy being spread around his cock since that first night, he needed to be inside or else he’ll lose the remnants of his mind. Slasher slipped his fingers out of you, quickly undoing his pants, sliding them down as much as knife holster on his thigh would allow. Your breathing increased as you tried to close your legs, man’s bulky form making it impossible for you to do so.

- No, no please.. not again, - you begged, tears rushing down your temples, your voice meek and barely audible, so König just ignored it.

Pulling his girthy cock out König pumped it a few times with gloved hand, aligning pink swollen tip with your leaking entrance. It one smooth movement he bottomed out half of his impressive length, your body - flushed and pliant - taking him inside without any resistance. Low groan rumbled through his broad chest; König’s head fell backwards, hands gripping soft fat of your thighs, leaving pale marks of his fingertips on your skin.

You hated every second of it. Hated how his hips collided with yours with every thrust, how you felt him throb and twitch inside of you; hated how his hands wandered up and down your sides, rubbing your waist and palming your tits. And you hated how fucking good it felt. Hated how your body, despite all your attempts to resist, to fight off the effects of the drug, gave into the pleasure.

- That’s it baby. Just take what I give you, - König breathed out, his words slurred with pleasure. - See? See how good it can feel when you shut the fuck up and do what I tell you to? Just be a obedient little girl and feel good, I’ll take care of everything else yeah?

It felt as if a ball of bile got stuck in your throat; your face scrunched up in disgust as much as your jelly muscles allowed it:

- Fuck you, - you barely managed to choke out, your tongue struggling to form right sounds.

For a few moments you were sure König didn’t hear you, given the lack of any reaction nor acknowledgement of your words. But the next thing you knew was searing pain in your left cheek, the impact of man’s wide palm with your face jolted your head to the side, sudden change of its position made you felt dizzy. Now world was spinning around you even more so, you felt something warm trickling down your cheek - blood from your nose, you figured. Killer’s fingers roughly gripped your chin, yanking it back so that you were facing him once again.

- You wanna say that again bitch? Come on, I fucking dare you, - he spat out, movements of his hips halting completely, leaving his cock buried deep inside of your rippling warmth.

Your head shifting so harshly once again made you nauseous; you could barely see anything, dark purple circles were dancing all around, changing their shapes and giving way to greens and yellows to flood your vision.

- That’s what I fucking thought, - König gritted out. His hand let go of your chin, coming lower to wrap strong fingers around your neck. His hips started working with even more vigour, forcing his dick in and out of your drugged cunt on the pace that was almost inhuman.

Firm clasp of maniac’s hand around your neck made it nearly impossible to breathe. Both your hands wrapped around his mighty wrist, too weak to actually get him off you. Your vision started to darken rapidly, white noise trilling in your ears, barely allowing any other sounds to filter through.

- From the very moment I laid my eyes on you I fucking owned you. And I own you right now, and forever will. This is my fucking cunt, and I’ll use it whenever I want to. And I need you to fucking. learn. it. - König growled out, emphasising each of his last words with hard deep thrusts of his hips against yours, his cock making your stomach bulge, surely bruising your cervix.

- Oh but I’ll train you. Mould you into my personal cocksleeve, ready to be used whenever I feel like it, - his pace was quickening, thick cotton of his denim pants muffled filthy sounds of his mighty hips snapping against your ass. The grip of strong fingers never eased; König shifted part of his weight onto his hands which were wrapped around your neck, white mask hovering right in front of your face - milky white of it was a harsh contrast to blackness pooling in the corners of your eyes.

With that your conscience started to slip away. You felt your body jolt with every ferocious thrust of man’s hips, his cock buried deep inside of you, bruising your insides with its persistent bullying. Acute lack of oxygen burnt your lungs, and you prayed to all gods that König held your neck a tad bit too long - just enough for you to not wake up the next time. And just before you slipped into heavy delirium, your mushed up brain picked up König’s growl, penetrating through thick noise humming in your ears:

- You’re mine. Forever and ever.

Street was filled with all kinds of noise - sirens from police cars were going off triggering dogs from nearby houses, neighbours were crowding a bit afar, frowning and shaking their heads, everyone having their own theory of what happened. Loud cries of Y/n’s mother shook the air, putting everyone further on the edge. She is such a sweet girl, she’s never done anything bad! Oh god, why is this happening to her of all people?!

Some people were saying that the girl simply snapped, breaking under the pressure of events and finally fleeting the country without telling anyone to not give any clues about her whereabouts to the killer. Some said she just went out to unwind from being constantly watched by police and have some alone time - she’ll show up anytime soon. But everyone knew that it was one of murderer’s deeds - he did something to her. And everyone knew, deep down, that they’ll never see Y/n again - alive, at least.

A young lanky policemen, obviously green and not experienced in his job, was babbling out his report to the superior, all the other cops that were patrolling with him as well stood around silently, too scared to pipe in.

- Sir, I swear we were patrolling the area all this time, there was literally no one but the neighbours, but they were staying at their pro-

- Then you were not doing it well enough! - city commissioner barked out, his mighty vice silencing everyone around for a short moment. His face was red, fuming with rage; nostrils flaring with intensity of his heavy breathing, angry vein popped up on his temple, pulsating in tandem with his rapid heartbeat. His heavy gaze shifted between all the poor officers, their faces pale as chalk.

- You had one fucking job. ONE fucking job - to keep the girl in the sightline - and where is she now, huh? I’m asking you motherfuckers - where is Y/n?! - Mr. Lindner barked out, his heavy voice making everyone jolt. Younger officers stared down on their shoes blankly, not daring to meet eyes with their boss.

- You may consider yourselves lucky if you’ll still have your licences by the end of the week, - commissioner Lindner tsked, spitting onto the ground in remorse. Turning around, he headed to his police issued car, shouldering all those nosy ones who were brave enough to approach him in this state. Getting inside Mr. Lindner closed the door with a loud bang, starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway onto the main road.

Commissioner Lindner drove in full silence, blue eyes fixated on the road ahead; it was barely past midnight, but the darkness hung thick all around, being slit by two yellow rays of his car’s headlights. He gripped steering wheel tighter, one hand coming to comb back his grown out hair out of his eyes, a small smile played in the corners of his scarred lips.

Soon he’ll be home - maybe the effects of drugs will wear off by that time and he’ll watch Y/n wake up slowly, those pretty doe eyes of hers gazing up at him drowsily. He will cook her dinner - all of her favourites - and maybe even spoon feed her, if she’ll allow it. Then he’ll bathe her and tuck her in her new bed, locking up the door for the night and watching her sleep through the cameras.

Everything was going as smoothly as ever. No one has accidentally seen him dragging unconscious Y/n out of her house and hauling her into the backseat of his car. No signs of struggle or fight were found - kitchen sink was still half-filled with soapy water and dirty dishes, clean ones drying off on the countertop, a knife with all the fingerprints being drowned among other dirty utensils. Y/n’s parents approved that everything was on its original place - as if the girl just disappeared, dissolved into thin air.

No one suspected a thing. And, of course, no one suspected a respectable city commissioner Lindner with years upon years of experience, a veteran with impeccable reputation, a person no one could speak badly of.

This was the beginning of your new life, life in which everything revolved around König, causing you to cling onto him as if he was some kind of goddess. Life in which you no longer belonged to yourself, but to your abductor. Life in which you finally understood that you don’t need anyone or anything else because you had König, understood that König was your life itself <3

Slasher! König Masterlist

A/n: I apologise for giving König a half assed name, but I thought it’d be really cool for the plot😌

Once again, feedback is highly appreciated! I’m making this a series so feel free to send in your suggestions for more slasher! König content<3

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sparkle-fiend · 1 year

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Steve loves Valentine’s Day.

It’s a holiday celebrating love and romance; the whole point is to shower someone with affection (and hopefully get laid at the end of the night). What’s not to like about that?

With girls, Valentine’s was easy. Big box of chocolates, a dozen red roses, dinner at a fancy restaurant (and maybe a little jewelry or something - depending on how much he likes her). A sweet card, for sure.

Now that he’s dating Eddie, Valentine’s Day presents more of a… challenge.

“Ugh, what am I gonna do Rob? We walked through the greeting card aisle at Melvald’s and he pretended to puke. He doesn’t want flowers or chocolate or anything.”

He knows he’s whining. He’s slumped dramatically in the single office chair in the Family Video breakroom, spinning slowly (like a pathetic little rotisserie chicken, according to Robin). He’s probably got about five more minutes before Robin snaps.

“Why do you have to do anything? You know Valentine’s Day isn’t even a real holiday – it’s just an excuse to get people to spend money on crap they don’t need…”

“Oh my god, stop! You sound just like Eddie. Valentine's isn't about spending money, it's about... showing people that you love them. Making them feel happy and appreciated and special. It’s about celebrating love.”

Robin tilts her head and her face goes a little soft, the way it does when he says something she wasn't expecting (but in a good way, not like when he says something so dumb that her body collapses and she says he's obliterated her will to live).

"That’s actually surprisingly sweet Steve. Okay….” she sighs and looks up at the ceiling as she thinks. “Maybe... you could try making something? He liked those cookies you baked for movie night."

“Those cookies were terrible.” Practically inedible. Eddie was the only person that ate more than one. (Which was either a true declaration of love in and of itself, or proof that Eddie will eat literally anything when he's stoned.)

"I don't know, Eddie is pretty easy to please. You could give him like... a cool rock, and he would probably love it."

Steve sits upright so fast he nearly overturns the chair. "Robin, you're a genius!!"

She blinks at him. "Clearly. But also, why exactly?"

Eddie is like a crow. He's forever picking up little odds and ends - cool rocks, stickers, shiny bits of paper. At Christmas, he collected the bows off of everyone's presents. Sometimes, he incorporates the stuff he finds into little props and models for his D&D games, but other times he just keeps it. He's got a whole drawer devoted to his little 'hoard', as he calls it.

Steve explains all this to Robin, who just shakes her head in bemusement. "He is so weird," she says fondly.

"Yeah," Steve agrees. He would have recoiled from that oddity in high school - would have been worried what other people would think. Scared they would judge him for associating with someone like that.

He doesn’t give a shit, these days. He sees the way Eddie lights up with happiness at the smallest things, so full of excitement and passion, and it just makes him smile. He feels grateful that he gets to bask in that reflected joy, like a flower soaking up the sun.

Valentines is two weeks away, which gives Steve plenty of time to collect a bounty of little treasures. He hits the pawn shop, the thrift store - he even drives out to the weird antique shop about an hour out of town, which looks like a normal house on the outside and is crammed to the rafters with knick-knacks and bric-a-brac when you walk inside.

He also trawls the quarry, the lake, and the woods behind his house. It's tough, because usually Eddie's little treasures just look like trash to Steve. He's not a very creative person himself, but he tries hard to see the world the way his boyfriend would.

If that means Steve finds himself debating for over half an hour on which rock is more appealing, well – it will all be worth it in the end.

———

Steve stays over at Eddie's, the night before Valentines. (At this point, he spends more time at the Munson's house than he does at his own.)

He wakes up early, slipping out of bed with slow, careful movements. As usual, Eddie rolls over with a faint grumble, bundling himself into a burrito of blankets to compensate for the void of warmth left by Steve's absence.

He moves down the hall, avoiding each creaky board like it's a booby trap in the Temple of Doom, until he reaches the kitchen - which is where Steve breaks routine. He sneaks out the back door and races across the driveway in his boxers, hopping and cursing as the frigid gravel stings his bare feet.

His carefully cultivated stash of gifts is in the glove compartment of the BMW. He already has a plan for which one will be first, so he grabs it and closes the door (slowly, slowly - the sound of Steve moving around the house is familiar, but a car door slamming in the driveway at this time of morning would wake Eddie for sure).

The first gift is a blue jay feather he found in the woods, perfect and clean with vivid blue and black stripes. He tucks it carefully under the edge of the ash tray that sits on the porch railing, before slipping back inside to start breakfast.

Thirty minutes later Eddie appears, drawn by the warm smell of coffee and the sound of bacon popping in the pan.

He drapes himself over Steve's back and murmurs, "G'mornin," sleepily into the shell of his ear, the way he does every morning after Steve spends the night. This time, Steve balances his spatula on the edge of the pan and turns so that he can wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s waist.

He presses a cheerful kiss to the corner of Eddie's mouth and says, "Happy Valentine’s Day."

Eddie groans dramatically and throws his head back, the rest of his bodyweight following. If Steve didn't have a firm grip around his waist, he would have toppled over backward; the move turns into an awkward backbend instead.

"Stevie please, it's too early for that crap. Wait until I've had my coffee at least."

Steve grins. He releases his hold just long enough for Eddie to yelp and scrabble for balance before catching him and pulling him close again.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie gasps.

"Careful," Steve says with a smug grin, laughing when Eddie shoves him in the chest and pulls away.

They eat breakfast together, and then Steve follows Eddie outside for his morning cigarette.

"Holy shit, look at this!" Eddie turns to Steve with the blue jay feather pinched between his fingers, grinning with delight. He hasn't brushed his hair yet and he's got a smear of bacon grease on his cheek, but he's so beautiful in that moment - so full of joy it shines out of him, like a lighthouse.

Just because he found a feather. Steve smiles back, helplessly besotted. "Pretty cool."

Eddie twirls the feather between his fingers before tucking it behind his ear. “That’s a sign that today is gonna be a good day.”

Steve presses his mouth to the edge of his coffee cup to hide his expression. “Yeah, I think so too.”

———

Eddie rolls into the Family Video parking lot around 2 in the afternoon to visit before his band practice. He strolls inside and leans against the counter, plonking a silver wrapped Hershey kiss down in front of Steve.

“Kiss for a kiss?” he says, with a smarmy grin. Steve rolls his eyes, but he checks to make sure they’re alone in the store before swooping forward for a quick peck on the lips.

“I got you something too,” he says.

“Oh?” Eddie raises one eyebrow, managing to look both curious and skeptical. “Please tell me it’s not a cheesy greeting card.”

Steve flips him the bird before reaching into his pocket. He pulls the keychain out and lets it dangle from one finger in front of Eddie’s face.

His boyfriend’s immediate reaction is to wrinkle his nose in disgust. The keychain is a garish red plastic heart, definitely the antithesis of Eddie’s usual metalhead vibe.

But it’s also sparkly.

Steve’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk as Eddie takes the keychain from him, reluctantly admiring the way light sparks off the flakes of holographic glitter embedded in the plastic. The cheap little thing shimmers like a ruby in the afternoon sun.

“Some kid dropped it. They never came back, so it’s yours if you want it.” (That’s technically true, although Steve has been holding on to it for nearly a month now, waiting for today.)

“Oh, well then.” Eddie stuffs the keychain into his pocket. “Finders keepers, losers weepers!” He sticks his tongue out, eyes wide and exaggerated – then leans across the counter and licks Steve’s nose.

“Gross!” Steve sputters with laughter. He scrubs at his face and looks up just in time to see Eddie wave jauntily on his way out the door, a second Hershey kiss left sitting on the counter in his wake.

———

After Steve's shift is over, he runs home for a quick shower and a change of clothes before meeting Eddie at the diner.

He did his best to talk his boyfriend into going on a proper date, but the most he could get Eddie to agree to was milkshakes and a movie (my choice Stevie, not some lame romance).

Steve walks into the diner and spots Eddie at the back booth. He saunters over and sets the third present onto the sticky Formica table with a click. It's a small golden gear, nearly paper-thin.

"Check it out. Found this in the parking lot."

(That's a lie. Steve carefully picked apart a broken old watch from the thrift shop in order to extract a handful of the little gears.)

"Hey, cool! I bet I could use this in the model I'm working on." Eddie pulls the pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and drops the gear inside for safe keeping.

"What's the model for?" Steve asks.

Eddie launches into an animated explanation of the character he's creating for a new Hellfire campaign - a sun-worshiping priest that intends to trick the party into becoming a ritual sacrifice.

"... and that gear thing would look pretty good on the top of his staff."

Steve doesn't understand much of what Eddie's saying, but he loves the way his boyfriend talks with his whole body, moving his hands and shoulders and head along with the words. He rests his chin in his hand and lets Eddie ramble until the milkshakes arrive, smiling like a dope the whole time.

Eddie has no concept of time, so Steve is in charge of making sure they finish their milkshakes and leave the diner in time to make it to the movie. As Eddie slides into the passenger seat of the BMW, he says, “Hey – you think we have enough time to stop by the Circle K?”

Steve turns in his seat as he reverses out of the parking lot. "What do you need at the Circle K?"

"Snacks! You can't go to a movie without provisions Stevie! And don't say we can buy some at the concessions stand, because the prices they charge are ridiculous."

“Well if we stop now, we’ll be late – but I’ve got some Milk Duds and trail mix…” Steve doesn’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. Eddie pops open the glove compartment in his search for snacks, revealing Steve’s little stash of gifts.

Eddie frowns in confusion. “What the hell?” He rifles through the pile as Steve groans.

“Shit. You weren’t supposed to see those yet.”

“What is all this?” Eddie picks up a ring, turning it over in his hands. It's a bulky silver biker ring, like the ones Eddie wears every day - only this one is shaped like a bat with tiny ruby eyes. Steve is particularly proud of that one, discovered in a box of assorted rings at the pawn shop.

Steve gnaws at his lip and runs a hand through his hair, ruining all his careful styling. "I know you hate Valentines, but I wanted to do something. Just… to show you how much I love you. So instead of the cards and flowers and stuff, I tried to find little things you might actually like. For your, you know… your 'dragon hoard' or whatever you call it."

"So the keychain and the gear..."

"And the feather."

Eddie's eyebrow twitches. He stares at the contents of the glove compartment; at the water smoothed stone from the lake and the multicolored twist of ribbon, the vivid green marble and the tiny mother of pearl locket. He looks down at the ring still clutched in his hand, and blinks rapidly.

Steve glances nervously between Eddie and the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. He's disappointed that the surprise has been ruined, but more concerned about Eddie's reaction. He'd expected the other boy to laugh or tease him, not this... whatever this is.

Finally, Eddie clears his throat roughly and speaks. "Actually, can we just head back to my place? I've got something I wanna show you, and I don't think I can wait through the movie."

“Uh… sure.”

Steve's brain is buzzing as he takes a left instead of a right at the intersection. He's worked himself into a bit of a panic by the time they pull into the Munson's driveway. "Eddie, I..."

Eddie interrupts him, practically throwing himself across the center console as he drags Steve into a fierce kiss. By the time Eddie lets him go, Steve is panting. "Wha...?"

"Wait here," Eddie says with a wild grin. He presses Steve back into the seat for emphasis. "Don't move."

He takes the steps up the porch two at a time and fumbles with his key to get inside as Steve watches in a daze. He has no idea what's going on.

After a few minutes, Eddie returns to the door. He's pulled on a t-shirt with a faux tuxedo printed on the front, and he's standing straight backed in the doorway with a towel over his arm, like some kind of maître d’. He waves grandly toward Steve, beckoning him toward the house.

Steve snorts with laughter as he climbs out of the BMW. “What are you doing?”

"This way sir," Eddie replies in a terrible attempt at a posh English accent. Steve shakes his head, thoroughly bewildered and increasingly amused.

He walks past Eddie through the doorway and freezes in surprise.

The living room has been transformed. Eddie set up the gaming table in the middle of the room – set with a crisp white tablecloth, the Munson’s best dishes, and a vase full of red roses sitting in the center of the table, flanked by two candles. More candles twinkle softly from the coffee table, the end tables - even on top of the tv.

"Eddie..." Steve whispers in awe. "What is this?"

"Well, ah... I kind of jumped the gun a little. It’s supposed to be a candlelight dinner. If we'd gone to the movie, Wayne would have had time to get all the food set up. But it won’t take long, I already cooked everything. Just gotta heat it up."

Steve’s vision goes watery, smearing the candlelight into one big blur as tears fill his eyes. He blinks hard to clear them. “I thought you hated all this stuff.”

Eddie shrugs and rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Well, yeah I do. But you love it. So I wanted to surprise you.”

Steve grips his boyfriend by the front of his ridiculous t-shirt and pulls him into a bone-cracking hug, before pulling back just far enough to kiss the breath from him.

In a pause between kisses, Steve rests his forehead against Eddie’s and laughs a little breathlessly. “What made you change your mind about the movie?”

Eddie bites his lips, already swollen from kisses. Steve can’t tear his eyes away.

“I don’t know. When I saw all that stuff you collected for me…” he clears his throat, staring at Steve with wide dark eyes. “I’m… I know I’m weird. I’ve known that my whole life. I never thought I would find anyone that would tolerate me, let alone… celebrate me like that.”

He kisses Steve again, sweet and soft. “I couldn’t sit and wait for two hours after that. I had to get you home and show you how much I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steve smiles against Eddie’s mouth. “You know… I’m not really hungry yet.”

“Oh yeah?”

Steve trails his hands down Eddie’s chest, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and tugging. “Mm-hmm. I think we need to work up an appetite first.”

Eddie laughs in delight. “Sounds like a good idea. You know how much I like dessert before dinner.”

A happy Valentine’s Day indeed.

#steddie #steddie fic #my writing #Valentine’s day ficlet #I’ve been working on this over a week #and still ended up having to rush to finish for today #not real happy with it #I wish I was a faster writer

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elizabarnes · 8 months

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Hiiii

Okay but like...imagine you notice weird things going on around your apartment...things go missing, stuff is moved, little things like that, but you don't think much of it. But then imagine you wake up one night to a noise and you see this tall figure standing at the end of your bed going through things on your vanity. The figure hears you and turns around before pinning you down with his large hand clamped around your mouth. (I can't decide if you should know Ted or not so you can decide that). He ends up fucking you, lots of "I've been waiting for this for so long." "I'm gonna make you so happy." "All mine now." "My little dolly". You know, cute shit like that. (Also IDK how you'd want to incorporate this but i'm also like imagining that scene in The Boy where the dude has the girls dress and like recreated her on his bed?) Anyway, name of Jesus Christ, Amen

I’m gonna do what I did in Stalker and make reader a fan but she isn’t an insomniac??? Howwww???

“Wait, how did you get in?”

Ted Nivison x afab!reader

MDNI I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN

You are having a normal day, taking a shower at 9, doing skincare, going back into your room, and watching Ted Nivison’s videos on your laptop until 11 then going to sleep. You wake up from a nice dream a sex dream at about 4 or 5 am. You look ahead of you and see a tall figure rummaging through your stuff. “Wha-“ You start but you're too tired to finish your sentence. It could just be a delusion, right? “Hello, sweetheart.” You hear come from the tall man. He sounds like Ted Nivison.. You think. “Are you Ted Nivison?” You ask, being too sleepy to even care. “Why don’t you find out?” He chuckles softly as he comes closer to you. You can see the reflection from the window off his glasses and your eyes widen. “The fuck? Why are you in my house?” “I didn’t expect you to say that.” “Then what did you expect?” You rub your eye tiredly. “Well, I expected you to have a fangirl moment. You do have pictures of me everywhere.” He says as he opens his arms as if offering a hug. In his right hand, you see him holding a pair of your lacy panties that your friend had bought you for your 18th birthday. Ted crawls into your bed and pins you down as if you were going to try and run. Like, dude? You’re too tired, duh. You wake up a little more and realize the situation more. “If I fall asleep you can continue whatever you started.” You say to him as a smirk appears on his face. “Whatever you say, princess.” He says as he nips at your neck. You put your hands under his shirt and pull it over his head, discarding it to the floor. He does the same to your shirt and starts to nip at the new bare skin. A couple of whines leave your mouth which motivates him to leave marks. What feels like only a few seconds pass and both of you are naked, he’s lying on his back as you look at him with tired, almost innocent eyes. His large hand cups your cheek and his thumb rubs the skin there. You lean into his touch, almost falling asleep. “Stay with me, darling.” He whispers. “Mm..” You mumble out as his hands move to your hips, he then flips you around so you’re on your back underneath him. He puts the tip to your entrance and slowly pushes forward, loving the way you whimper at the pleasure. He pushes all the way in in one swift movement making you let out a whine. “Fuck- so tight..” Ted groans out. “T-Teddy- please-“ You whine out as he starts slow thrusts, letting out groans of your name or how wet you are. “Been waiting for this for so long, gonna make you so much more happy than that last douche- fuck.” He says as his thrusts pick up pace and your moans grow louder. “Fuck!- S-so close- please, Teddy!” You moan out, you definitely weren’t falling back asleep now. “Fuck- gonna cum!” You let out an almost pornographic moan making Ted’s eyes widen and lips part slightly. “Cum for me, darling.” He says into your ear as you clench down on him, cumming on his cock. This throws him over the edge and he cums inside you, pulling out and moving down to your cunt that’s leaking with yours and his mixed cum. “My little dolly now, mine too play with whenever I want.” He mumbles as he licks a stripe up your clit before sucking on it, moans leaving your mouth as your hands meet his hair, you feel two of his huge fingers enter you, even louder moans coming out of your mouth now. “Fuck- Ted!” He looks up at you and the sight almost makes you cum on the spot. His fingers go quick inside you drawing loud moans and whimpers from your mouth. You cum on his fingers and he works you through it before pulling his fingers out of you and sucking your cum off, lapping up any last bit he didn’t get. He gets up and walks into your bathroom, getting a rag and cleaning the two of you up. He then goes over to your dresser and pulls out some clean clothes for you and getting in his bag for his own clothes- was he planning this? He walks back over to you and helps you get dressed and then he’s dressed himself. He crawls into bed beside you and pulls you into him. “I love you, Y/n.” “I love you too, Teddy.” You close your eyes to go to sleep. “Wait- how did you get in?”

#ted nivison #ted nivison smut #ted nivison x reader #ted nivison x you #smut #fanfiction #lunch club #lunch club podcast #Ted lunch club

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chateau7afra · 4 months

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Folklore in Fargo

Spoilers ahead, Sailor.

One of the things I loved about Fargo this season so far, is the incorporation of Folklore, suberstition and God. We meet Ole Munch (Sam Spurrell) in the first episode. He seems to be a regular hitman of sorts, who is set on Dorothy (Juno Temple) He comes across a bit excentric and the way he talks and dresses seem very anachronistic. We also learn, that Dot is not the regular homemaker and loving mum, she seems to be. Munch and his handyman set out to kidnap Dot. Munch and his handyman aren't able to capture her and the handyman was killed in the process. We get to know Roy Tillman (John Hamm) who was the one who sent Munch on his mission, but because he failed the task, Roy is not paying Munch, which sets off a rather bleak storyline in which Roy and his son Gator (Joe Keery, my love) try to kill him. He escapes! The most intriguing thing about Ole Munch is one, the ritual he performs at the Tillman Farm. He kills a goat, covers himself in it's blood and leaves a message for Roy over his Daughter's beds. And two, the flashback to Wales in 1522. See now, this is where it gets weird. And where I had to google some stuff.

We see a character, dressed in what seems to be clothes of the lower class, entering a house full of upper class people who are in mourning, dressed in black and weaping. We have a funeral on our hands here. The poor person looks like Ole Munch. Is it him? Is it an ancestor of his? We dont know. On the belly of the deseiced is a plate with food. When Munch enters the house, there is a tense energy in the room. Munch walks up to the dead body and consumes the food offered on the plate in an almos animalistic fashion. The people in the room gasp, some of them disgusted, some of them afraid. Or both. Before Munch leaves, he gets two silver coins. Which must have been a lot of money back in the day, I did not research that. But we clearly witnessed some sort of ritual happening. It turns out, sin eating was a practice rich people took part of in Wales, Ireland and England in the 1600s. A willing poor person was invited to literally eat the sins of the deseaced person, so they could be welcomed at the pearly gates, with a clean record. All the sins are transferred, to the person who ate the food. A grewsome fate for people at the time, but hey, a mans gotta eat. The world is bleak, so I don't go with the rational reason in fiction, ever. I like to think that Ole Munch ate so many sins, that he became a spirit, that can not die, who is forced to wander around the earth forever, and for some reason chose america. His very beautifully written monologues would suggest that. They almost sound shakespearian.

But how does this play into the bigger theme of Fargo S5? Well, if you think about it, the whole season is about unpaid depts and consequences. Dot ran away from Roy and the farm, because of domestic violence. In Roy's book, she owes him, because she made a pledge to him, when they got married. Ole Munch sees a debt not paid, because he didn't receive paymant for "eating the sin" of kidnapping Dot. Dot's husband's mother, who is a very rich lady played by the brilliant Jennifer Jason Leigh points out "What is the point of being a billionaire, if you can't get someone killed.", while on the phone with an ex-president, apparently Bill Clinton, if I remember right. It's like, we never got over the sin eating, because with money and power, you can pay your way out of any circumstance, be it kidnapping or murder. There is always going to be someone who needs the money more than their soul. And there is always going to be someone who takes advantage of that. Roy Tillma, quotes the bible a lot. He thinks of himself as a right and just man and leader, even though he likes to bend the law to his will. He does not give a flying fuck about the law as it is "dictated by washington" and funds a right wing militia with taxpayer money. He is the law of the land. These scenes sent shivers down my spine.

Anyway. All of the storylines in this show are so amazing and worth writing about. Go watch it, you won't regret a second.

#fargo #fargo season 5 spoilers #fargo s5 #dot lyon #gator tillman #joe keery #blocksberg writes #fargo fx #john hamm #juno temple #fargo spoilers #ole munch #sin eating

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brujahinaskirt · 1 year

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This is barely coherent as a meta post but I have to get it out because aaaaaah (!!!!) I love, i REALLY LOVE, how much Arthur loves Abigail.

Jack too, of course, but I don't want to lump them together for the sake of this post. I specifically love the non-romantic but deeply true love dynamic between Arthur and Abigail.

[yet another longwinded gush-essay under the cut...]

It's just so rare to see a relationship like this in media, especially games! They love each other without embitterment, without either of them secretly wanting to pursue the other, and without any tacit expectation of repayment (or hope of romantic feelings developing one day).

I don't dislike Arthur x Abigail as a ship in theory so much as I just love the nonsexual, no-debts, no-expectations unconditional family love and loyalty between them WAY more. Even Arthur's diary entry about how he regrets being too caught up on Mary to do the culturally/historically "right" thing and marry Abigail (especially now, after Jack is born/John runs off...) is, to me, transparently more about how much Arthur personally adores Abby & Jack and the hope they represent, and how much he wants to see someone do right by them, than it is about Arthur having some kind of hypothetical secret crush on Abigail.

All their interactions are so devoid of sexual desire or romantic longing! Hell, they're often annoyed with each other, the sort of teasing & snappy attitude that comes from knowing someone so well and being assured that a pissy day won't fray the relationship. I love the familiarity of that alone, but there's also just so much sweetness and genuineness in how Abigail asks Arthur if he's okay, in how she smiles when he comes to say hi to her and Jack, and in how openly she allows herself to sound really sad around him. There's so much care and selfless love in how she encourages him to pursue Mary (to follow his heart, like her) despite what the other women at camp say, and despite knowing that Arthur successfully fulfilling his dream of a life with Mary would assuredly end (or at least massively reduce) his ability to economically provide for Abigail & Jack and to be there for them physically.

aaaah!!!! There's so much obvious and unrestrained warmth and affection in how Arthur says "Hello Abigail." There's so much openly petty sulking when Abigail loses at dominoes to Arthur and equally petty bragging when she wins!! There's so much benevolent planning on her part to arrange for Arthur and Jack to spend time together just the two of them (even though Arthur makes an incredibly weak and see-throughable effort to sulk at her re: being nudged aside by John's return). And yet she takes so much care to continue incorporating Arthur into their weird wounded little family even after John's return. There's no hesitation in Arthur's frequent checking on Abigail & Jack (and making sure John isn't mistreating them) and helping her raise him (though critically, NOT as a father replacement, but as Uncle Arthur). And there's no hesitation when Abigail comforts Jack by reminding him that she and Uncle Arthur are always there for him, even if his father isn't.

AAAAAAH!! There's so much trust and concern between them, ending with Abigail's signature choice to trust Arthur by giving him the key, essentially choosing to trust him more than she trusted John, the man she's in love with. There's so much genuine fear in Arthur's eyes and reluctance to break her heart by giving her the news of John's apparent death/capture, even though he knows he has to do it, and there's so much unspoken understanding between them when he gestures to help her off the horse--and in her acceptance, as if she knows he needs to try to comfort her physically because he can't find the words to comfort her. (And yet, he does! He instinctively knows EXACTLY what Abigail needs to hear, a surehearted confirmation that John DID love her, something that Arthur himself has long doubted and worried over, but that he clearly sees Abigail needs to get through that awful moment without collapsing. He knew her deep-set fear, that John died without ever really loving her and it it was all for nothing, and provided her with the faith she needed to keep moving.)

Though Abigail loves John, no question, she doesn't yet trust John in RDR2. But Arthur? Arthur is the one she trusts. Abigail knows Arthur will never run out on her, and Abigail welcomes Arthur in as family (again, critically, as Uncle Arthur, not as a John Replacement) in a way he badly wanted & needed to experience but likely never would.

Rockstar could so easily have made Arthur into John's bitter, crusty, desire-driven rival for Abigail's romantic attention. That was assuredly perhaps the easier/more obvious/lower-hanging-fruit writing decision. But they deliberately made the choice to avoid desire as a component of their attachment to each other, they just leaned into the family devotion. Screw you Dutch, this is the REAL faith in rdr2, and that's goddamn beautiful.

aaaah i can't get over it

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #abigail roberts #red dead redemption #redmeta

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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Anonymous asked:

Hi, What would the RE8 women react to Y/N singing “We don’t talk about Bruno” from the movie “Encanto” from Disney. Thanks!

Ooh! Good one. Quickly, I have to share this story because I love Encanto. Jessica Darrow (The voice of Luisa) did a virtual celeb visit at the children’s hospital that I work at. A couple employees got to ask her a question (I was lucky and got picked!) I asked her what power she would want from the movie and she said she wanted the power to talk to animals. Like, I love that for her. Anyway, one of the kiddos asked her to sing Surface Pressure and she had them sing it with her and I thought I was going to cry (it meant so much to the kid! T^T) I love Encanto sm. Now, on to the ask!

Alcina:

She can tell that the song is a bop, but 3 problems: She don’t know what it’s from, she don’t know who Bruno is, and she don’t know how long she can keep listening to Y/N sing “A seven-foot frame, rats along his back” (That’s their favorite part and they just sing it over and over) Please, Y/N. Vampire Mommy has a headache. Knock it off.

Donna:

When Y/N gets to the part that Isabella sings, they always insist that the character reminds them of Donna because she can control plants (And is fucking gorgeous, but I digress). Donna sort of understands what Y/N is getting at, but she’s never seen the movie. Y/N makes it a point to not only watch the film with Donna a few times, but also lay out an entire damn character analysis of Isabella so the doll maker can get a better picture. Donna’s too polite to say anything, but in her head she thinks Y/N is a complete idiot… easy to love though…

Miranda:

Miranda is done with Y/N’s bullshit. Seriously Y/N, Miranda kidnapped a baby, broke her into fucking pieces and has literally killed thousands of people… Either sleep with one eye open or quit singing “I associate him with the sound of falling sand” with weird intensity on repeat. It’s for your own good.

Bela:

Bela likes music. Like, a lot. She studies it. Like, a lot. But the thing is, she primarily listens to classical and opera. She doesn’t know what to do with a catchy Pop Salsa tune. Like, what meter is this song in? How many styles have been incorporated? Is that polyphony she hears? (What a nerd oh my goddd) Y/N just wants her to enjoy it without getting caught up in the theory of it all… Maybe with time she’ll get better at doing that?

Update: She’s currently ripping her hair out trying to analyze the song. Y/N hasn’t slept in days ‘cause she won’t shut up about her research… And that’s what you get for being a nuisance all the time, Y/N XD

Cassandra:

Cassandra is a logical person. She sees a problem? (Like Y/N singing at the top of their lungs) She fixes it. Y/N better not complain. Cass originally wanted to cut out their tongue, but Dani suggested she try this first. Honestly, Y/N is beating the odds on how they’ve been able to survive this long… maybe they should go out and buy a lottery ticket… Or go stand on top of the castle to see if they can get struck by lightning.

Daniela:

Nobody screeches Encanto songs harder than Dani. The noise level gets so loud in the castle when Y/N and Dani sing together that Alcina throws them in the dungeon for a few hours to let them both get it out of their systems. They always end up having brutal sex once they’re down there though… Alci learned that the hard way. One time she walked in and saw Y/N kissing their way up Daniela’s body to the rhythm of “Bruno no, no” while Dani sang, called them a hoe and spit on them… These two nasty.

Masterlist

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mama-qwerty · 26 days

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do you plan on writing stories involving Callie based on the knuckles show once it releases? based on what we know of the show now, how would you see her reacting to Knuckles trying to train Wade?

In all likelihood, I probably will do some stuff with what the show provides. Wade and Knux are my two favorite characters from the movies, so of course I'm gonna try to figure out a way to incorporate my girl. Self-indulgent tripe is my speciality.

Callie's reaction would be based on her relationship with Wade at the time. If they're just best friends, I think she'd be very much trying to determine that this is something Wade really wants as opposed to what he thinks others would want of him. Wade strikes me as a people pleaser, and if he thinks others would respect him more or think better of him if he were 'tougher', then he'd go along with it, even if it's not what he would choose for himself. But, if he truly wants to do this for himself, she'd encourage it. Within reason, of course.

If they are dating, I could see Knuckles trying to make him into someone 'worthy' of Cal's affection. (Especially if I'm taking this in the route of the Knuckles MacPherson au I've got started. Only the best for his mama.) In which case, I could see them doing this behind her back, and she only sees the aftermath, which, to her pov, is them both acting really weird, especially around her.

*Cal comes home and finds Knux and Wade in her kitchen, and Wade's all bruised and battered, sporting an ice pack on his back*

Callie: What's going on? Are you okay?

Wade: *laughs nervously* Oh yeah, sure. I just . . . tripped.

Callie: You tripped? And caused all that?

Knuckles: He was carrying a tree at the time.

Callie: WHAT

Wade: It's much worse than it sounds.

Callie: Don't you mean it sounds much worse than it was?

Wade: No.

Knuckles: He is progressing much slower than I anticipated. We haven't even gotten to the Blindfolded Walk of Doom yet.

Callie: THE WHAT

She's so confused.

As with anything else, I'm gonna pick and choose what will be canon to me (and my stories) from the series. I expect to do some tweaking. But it should be fun.

#ask me #knuckles the echidna #knuckles series #wade whipple #callie macpherson

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swearyshera · 1 year

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Reliving this is a trip. I was an interesting feeling the first time thru, and I'm not saying that to humorously downplay a horrific situation. It drew out a little bit of sympathy for Catra I really thought I'd used up by that point, if only cuz what Prime does is really that vile. That's super unusual for me. I went in rooting for Adora to take back someone she cared about, not necessarily cuz it was Catra specifically if you know what I mean, but this got me to want Catra rescued weirdly well. I almost never feel for villains at their nadir like this.

Twisted how empathetic paragon heroes like Adora are among my most treasured characters in fiction, yet I suck at extending the same sympathy they can. You're supposed to see characters like Catra (or Azula or Bakugou or whoever you please) going thru awful things as flawed people with interior lives and subject to exterior circumstances that the heroes are kind/strong/savvy enough to see and incorporate into their responses and my knee jerk is still "fuck off with the pity party, get to the atonement." Or in a lot of cases to laugh while they're down. I always sabotage myself by seeing the author making horrible things happen to the rival/villains, and contrasting them with worse villains, as a cynical tactic to get me and the heroes to sympathize before they've started changing for the better.

It helped that Catra already saved Glimmer at her own peril, and Adora already would've saved Catra no matter what, but still. This is a big reason why villain mind control is one of my least fave tropes. Manipulation and coercion are all good because meaningful agency and responsibility are still there even if characters can't see it, and that is everything in my eyes. To me mind control is the writer hitting pause on a character's growth til a more convenient time in the plot. Or just forever. *cough*🌊🦂🧙‍♂️.

Most of my appreciation for pre-s5 Catra only built up in retrospect through meta-posts and following fanworks like this. So seriously thank you for this series; it's like experiencing the series as it was intended for the first time, weird as that sounds.

You're version of this sequence is as skin-crawling as I think we all could've hoped/feared. Prime is the worst kind of living scum. Great work. Now I can start counting down to the "you miscalculated." scene. Aimee Carrero crushed that line. Can't wait for your version. Positively dancing with anticipation.

It is - at least to me - a really interesting point for Catra to be at, narratively speaking, because it shows the dialectic in her journey. She both did and didn't "bring it upon herself" - yes, she tried to get in Prime's good books, but no, she didn't ask to be chipped. Yes, she saved Glimmer against his instruction, but no, she didn't know the full consequences of what that would do. And when you get people on different sides of the argument, some saying "poor meowmeow didn't deserve this" and others saying, "She's reaping what she's sown", actually they're both right, in this way.

I don't think it would have worked going straight to the atonement, anyway. We don't have these scenes to revel in the depth of her lowest point, we have them to show how bad, how inescapable it was - and then we set up to escape them!

The whole story with Prime has been an interesting writing journey, too. Every time I review the lines, I tweak them to make them that little bit more realistic, that little bit more uncomfortable. I'm painfully aware that we're seeing a lot of similar rhetoric flying around from real people in the media these days (particularly with anti-trans bullshit), and it's no coincidence that Prime is a reflection of this. But my focus isn't on "Oh look, doesn't this character sound like the person trying to destroy our lives", it's on "This character, like the people you've seen on the news, might think they're right but they will never win. They will never defeat us."

Indeed, the Save the Cat books (yes, this episode did remind me of them... It's probably where the name is from) talk about the 'All is Lost' point and the 'Dark Night of the Soul' - this is where we're at right now. It's bad, it's the worst - but it's going to get better.

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be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie · 5 months

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hiiiii im cata1 on ao3 (we spoke in the comments like once) and i want you to check out my new short fanfic "unrest" that I just made. im interested to hear your thoughts and esp ideas about it since Im stuck rn but want to make a longer story on it like my other "here, your warmth" fanfic and because I love everything you have to say!! thank you.

HI BESTIE, so sorry it took me so so long to see this!

(For those of you interested, here is the link to the fic in question, Unrest by cata1).

As I said in my comment, I'll totally be thinking about this one! We here at be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie incorporated are big ghost Spider fans. It just has such unfinished business vibes, it's like a cursed, darker version of Eywa blessed Spider. This particular version though seemed more flesh and corpse based to me. It makes me think of Laura in American Gods, like he's just got reasons to stick around but he's still a physically dead body just lurking around.

You could go one of a few ways, tbh. You could go a Spider's dead but he gets to live on this second dead life way, you could go a he has to solve what's unsolved before he can pass on way, or he could get revived.

As it's Neytiri's point of view and she seemed to be struggling with any way to comfort him, I like the idea of her and Spider being stuck in this pact. She doesn't want her kids to experience any more loss or suffering, and Spider doesn't want anyone to know, so she's like "okay fuck, I guess I have to fix this." So she and Spider are conspiratorially meeting and trying to figure out why he's there. Spider is convinced the Great Mother doesn't want him, but logically, Neytiri has to point out there are a fuck ton of humans she personally killed or saw killed that definitely stayed dead. She's like "shhh child, I am the one who is tsakarem, I will attempt to interpret Eywa's will, not you." I kind of like the idea of them having to have all these weird, personal conversations to try to understand why Eywa would do this, eventually culminating in a trip to the spirit tree. Meanwhile the rest of the Sully's are like why the actual fuck Neytiri and Spider sneaking off together all the time, am I living in the Twilight Zone?

Now, I know I made this sound like a comedy but obviously it would be incredibly sad. It must fit the vibe. Anyways, those are my thoughts.

#me accidentally making each idea into a slapstick style comedy #it's because humor and sadness go hand and hand and accentuate each other when used properly #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #neytiri sully #avatar #avatar the way of water #james cameron avatar #fic recs #melissa's asks #melissa on avatar (cameron)

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henrike-does-writing-sometimes · 7 months

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The Most Willing Prey.

Because the last oneshot I wrote was in Anruh's pov I wanted to try something from Ruben's perspective and, yeah. This was supposed to be about him having masochistic and freaky fantasies about his monster girlfriend, but it turned into him experiencing desire for the first time and trying to navigate it while not fully understanding why he's feeling the way he's feeling.

It's still kinky, don't worry about that, but it was supposed to be a lot kinkier lmao

I'm also going to have to incorporate a lot of this into the actual story because god damn

Word count: 984 Warnings: Guro-esque | Gore and violence as erotic Kinks: Dom/sub undertones | Light Masochism | Primal play Wip: Gammellunden Characters: Ruben Hylén

: Oneshot Taglist - @vacantgodling :

Let me know if you want to be added/removed !

Enjoy~

The hours were ticking down slowly. Too slowly for Ruben's liking. Which wasn't rare. Hours spent trapped inside with an almost unbearable amount of sensory stimuli could easily drive anyone up the wall. Turning those hours into countless eternities.

But Ruben wasn't overwhelmed. The broken lightbulb in the corridor that flickered too loudly had been fixed. There had been pasta for lunch that day, with their unofficially assigned table unoccupied. The math teacher had even let him wear his headphones while he worked on their assigned chapter. Ruben hadn't been this at ease with the school environment in months. And yet, something irked him. Dragged him down and refused to tell him why.

It followed him home, too. Hung over him as he walked through the forest, and all the way up to his bedroom.

Ruben unceremoniously dropped his backpack by his desk, before dropping down on his bed. He sat in silence for a moment, trying once again to asses what the strange feeling within him was. When he once more failed he made a frustrated noise and fell back on his bed. Ruben stared up at the ceiling, frowning as the feeling didn’t even have the decency to itch over his skin. Instead, it was rooted deep so Ruben wouldn’t be able to reach it however hard he tried. Had it been his skin, he could’ve tried to itch it. But he’d already tried multiple times, and it didn’t work.

Still, Ruben ran a dull and stubborn nail across his freckled arm, leaving a red line to blossom in its wake. He'd never been one for scratches, finding the sensation too odd to be comfortable. But maybe it was because his nails weren't sharp enough. Maybe if it were Anruh’s claws…

Ruben let out a shuddered breath. Caught off guard by the warmth that fluttered within him at the thought. Warmth that, for a brief moment, calmed that strange feeling. It burnt to the touch, and yet Ruben found himself reaching out. Curiously welcoming the flames to lick his hand.

She'd easily slice his skin. Tantalizingly so. Slow and steady, drawing constellations with red ink. Or maybe she'd be quick and messy, ripping him apart like an animal. Like a predator, and he her prey. Ruben thought back to when she mauled the bear. Painting the snow in shades of red and pink without care. Brutal and without mercy, so effortlessly too. Would Anruh be the same with him? Was hunger and desire not the same? That was how people described it, at least. It was the allegory Karin had used when explaining her countless crushes.

“It’s like when you’re really craving something to eat, and that something is a specific person.”

“That sounds like cannibalism.”

“I mean, in a way it kinda is. Human connection is weird like that. You’ll understand when you’re older, trust me.”

Ruben wasn’t sure he fully understood even if he was older now. But the warmth that steadily grew within him beckoned him closer. As if promising him all the answers he was looking for. And Ruben followed. Closing his eyes, he delved further. Let himself be completely enveloped in the strange flames.

Did Anruh prefer pliant prey? The ones who dropped to their knees before her, giving her permission to do as she pleased. Or did she like them fighting? Those who kicked and screamed and did everything they could to flee, who had to be held down firmly and forced into submission.

Ruben would be lying if he claimed he wouldn't cave under Anruh. That her heavy gaze was enough for him to drop. But that didn't seem like fun, for either one of them. Ruben knew he was no match for the urroa, but the thought of trying regardless. Of being chased through the woods with her right on his heels. Of fighting tooth and nail for his life, adrenaline pumping in his veins. To truly be her prey. But after, when he was at her mercy with no means to escape, she could do whatever she wanted. Agonizingly slow, or merciless roughness. Perhaps a bit of both. Teasing the act for hours before stealing his breath in seconds. Ruben would be happy either way. And it scared him.

Desire like this was uncharted territory. Which should be Ruben's favorite, but this time it felt different.

It felt raw. And real in ways Ruben couldn't fathom. Like for once in his life he understood every cue laid out before him. Like his die rolled 20s every single try. But this wasn't a game, this wasn't a roleplay. This was real. And it made him just as nervous and uncertain as it made his heart swell and his knees weak.

Like the first time he'd seen Anruh. Struck by dread, but oh so ridiculously mesmerized all the same.

Keeping his eyes closed, Ruben exhaled softly. If he thought hard enough, he could see her before him. Could imagine her pinning him down to the forest floor. Hand on his chest, claws poking at the skin of his collarbones. Promising to puncture it if he so much as breathed wrong. Perhaps she was waiting for it. Waiting for a moment to strike, to drag her claws down his belly. Cutting him open and granting her easy access to his insides. Because why would she kill him before having her feast? To desire was to hunger. To feel the raw beating of a heart against your lips, to mark up insides in ways that wouldn’t fade and couldn’t be replaced.

And Ruben didn’t mind.

If Anruh wanted to squeeze his every organ to mush, carve her name into his broken bones and rip his heart from his chest, he’d let her. If only to satisfy that strange and frightening curiosity burning bright within him. If only to satisfy their desire, he’d be her most willing prey.

#monsterfuckers come get y'all juice #writeblr #wip #writing #oneshot #wip : Gammellunden #I have another oneshot in the works that is way more kinky lmao

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