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#a sensible adult about things
bodycountgame · 1 year
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This is an odd kind of question but I’ve been seeing a bunch of ifs originally written in CS move over to twine (even this game made this change!!) and, as someone who isn’t on the dev-side of if games and has only been reading ifs for a little while, I was wondering if you could speak to why you chose to make this switch? Was it just personal preference? Could twine do things CS couldn’t? Was there something wrong with CS and COG that pushed people away? Obviously you can only speak to your own experience (and only if you’re comfortable answering!) but getting some perspective could help explain this larger trend I’ve been noticing
i feel like in general this has been hashed out a few times within the community so i can't speak for everyone but i had a few reasons for moving away from choicescript.
to be absolutely clear, these are just reasons for Me Personally and there are obviously plenty of reasons that someone might want to use choicescript that are all perfectly valid and choice of games as a platform still hosts some of my faaaaavourite IF games and writers, so absolutely 0 shade to those lovely people!
in terms of things that you can do in twine that you can't do in choicescript, there's more freedom with UI/design in twine, which is nice! i feel like the new UI (designed & built by @nyehilismwriting mwah mwah) really adds to the ~vibe~ of body count as a story.
in general, though, my concerns were more practical.
the main thing is that choicescript isn't an open source language, which has some implications for ~ownership~. it means that authors get a cut of the earnings of games published through hosted games (that i understand to be pretty decent based on industry standard but correct me if i'm wrong?) but it's a cut nonetheless. it also makes things like having a patreon a bit less secure - i think CoG have said that things like early access are fine on patreon as long as they'll eventually be released through hosted games, but i wanted to be able to write side stories etc that would (and have) stay/ed patreon exclusive and that wouldn't really have technically been allowed. i think most authors using patreon have done so without incident, but just that legality aspect made me nervous! since it's my aim for body count to be a free game in the end, i really rely/ied on the income that comes from patreon during the creation process.
i also had some issues personally with some of the messaging coming from CoG and the idea of my work being associated with another brand first and foremost rather than just with me as an independent author, i guess? there was talk about NFTs which i'm not into and i think that was the final straw that made me decide to take the plunge and move to twine, but actually looking back it was really a culmination of things. had a few bad experiences with the forums, generally just didn't ~feel right~.
ultimately for this project in particular i was like. well if i'm gonna write like a million words and invest years of my life into this thing i want to be able to do what i want with it, release it on my own terms, actually own it etc etc.
anyway, i hope that all makes sense! as i said up top, i can't speak for other authors and there are probably a lot of pros to using choicescript compared to twine as well, it's a perfectly valid choice, just not the right one for me :)
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2hoothoots · 1 year
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i'm also going to take this opportunity to shill my ko-fi again real quick! my birthday's coming up on the 15th, and if you like the stuff i make and wanted to throw a couple of bucks in the e-tip jar, there you go!
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silverstarfics · 1 year
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Just climbed a tree to get a visual idea of how high the distance I’m writing about is... I call that dedication
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mirage-coordinator · 1 year
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post about how censorship is a dangerous thing, and that throwing out “what if a CHILD saw this?” about things you don’t like is parroting conservative rhetoric (because it’s true, some things are going to be uncomfortable, and will make you uncomfortable, but should not be forbidden on the grounds of that discomfort)
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it’s some stupid fuckwit covertly arguing that actually, they shouldn’t have to face any criticism for posting their shitty incest fanfic under the guise of a take that any average person would think is perfectly reasonable (they’re idiots who put that shit out in public and are not immune to people pointing out Hey That’s Weird)
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#roarkposting#you cannot have a goddamn conversation about censorship on this website!#people who's kneejerk reaction to discomfort is 'this should not be allowed in any form ever'#will go well yes. CONSERVATIVE censorship is bad but mine is different and only the stuff *i* don't like#and then#people who are way too into incest and adult/minor shit and think you are being mean to them for calling them a fucking weirdo about it#will think you're on THEIR side. you are NOT associated with me!#none of the 'i just like Dark Themes in fiction' crowd mean it they just think that if they call their like. fucking#harry potter incest shit 'dark fiction' that suddenly makes it Not Weird and Above Criticism#i studied literature i have read and written about some incredibly fucked up works of fiction#they are Good and they do not always spell out 'hey this form of abuse was Bad and Evil' because they don't HAVE to. gotta use ur brain#something which. ironically. these ppl do not seem interested in doing#they much prefer digging in their heels and going nuh uhhhhh you're just being Mean for No Reason#i'll die on the hill of 'if you say loser shit like puriteens you are arguing in bad faith' because it is such a stupid fucking thing to say#sorry for Poasting about this again it just frustrates me to no end because. God#i am so sick of people with awful opinions disguising their shit (BC THEY KNOW THEY R NOT IN THE RIGHT!) as something that seems#perfectly sensible and outright reasonable on the surface
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inkoutsidethelines · 1 year
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Thinking about how I would write an adult Scooby-Doo series, because I think it can be done.
The first thing I’d do is make the characters actually be adults.  Still young, but adults, in the mid to late 20s range.  Mystery Inc. is a private detective type business that they run together.  In this universe, the supernatural/ghosts/etc are real, but not necessarily common, so when they take on a case, the culprit might be a person disguised as a monster, or it might actually be a real ghost.  The stakes can be higher; sometimes a bad guy is legitimately trying to kill them.  Sometimes the mystery they’re trying to solve is a murder.  Sometimes they actually get hurt on their cases.
Fred: the core of Fred’s character should be that he’s incredibly kind.  Like, give a stranger the shirt off his back kind.  The “Fred can’t talk to potential clients because he might take a case for free and we need to eat” kind.  He’s an honest and good person and sometimes gets himself into trouble because he assumes other people are too.  While he’s not very good at reading people or noticing ulterior motives, he’s brilliant when it comes to mechanical or engineering type stuff, so he’s the one who keeps the mystery machine running, builds their gadgets, and of course, designs the traps.
Daphne: she comes from old money, and her parents absolutely despise her life choices, to the point where they haven’t officially disowned her, but they have basically cut her off, so she doesn’t actually have access to any family money.  Growing up wealthy has granted her a variety of skills, including speaking multiple languages, horseback riding, and fencing.  She’s very into fashion and jewelry (even if she can’t afford it anymore) and has extensive knowledge of both that can occasionally provide a vital clue in a case. And even though her parents have cut her off, Daphne still has a wide network of contacts she can ask for favors sometimes, because she’s personable, and people tend to like her.  Daphne is also very emotionally intelligent, and is usually the one who can spot when someone is lying to them.
Side note - I ship Fred and Daphne, so I think I would start them off as an established couple for this universe.  Dating, engaged, married, I don’t care.  They are stupidly in love, ride or die for each other.  There’s no will they, won’t they, no worries about cheating.  They are in a healthy, happy, loving relationship, and no one (not even Daphne’s disapproving parents) are going to mess that up for them.
Velma: she is the forensics nerd who sometimes gets super excited about the wrong thing at the wrong time (”He was mummified in seconds? That’s so cool!” “Velma!  His wife is standing right there!” “Oh.  Sorry.”).  She’s not purposely insensitive, she just gets laser focused on her work and forgets to filter herself sometimes.  She’s also the one who can get so fixated on solving whatever mystery they’re working on, she’s willing to bend or maybe break laws.  Is breaking and entering really so bad?  Not if it gets them answers.
Shaggy: he is still the comic relief, but he’s the comic relief by being the only person in the group that actually has common sense.  He manages the business’s finances, he’s the only one who knows how to cook, and the others tease him for being a coward sometimes, but Shaggy maintains that if a ghost with an axe is coming for you, running is the only sensible option.  He should also have a range of random knowledge that sounds useless, but sometimes saves the day (ex ventriloquism, origami, the history of spoons, etc).
Scooby: as this is a universe where supernatural creatures exist, Scooby is an ancient eldritch type being that took a shine to Shaggy when he was a kid, and took the form of a talking dog to befriend and hang out with him.  Aside from the talking dog bit and not aging, he never uses his powers in a way that anyone notices.  The audience is not told upfront that Scooby is an ancient eldritch being; it should slowly be hinted at throughout the series so the audience put it together, but the characters never realize it.  Scooby genuinely considers Shaggy to be his best friend, and cares about the rest of the gang too.
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neil-gaiman · 7 months
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Hello Mr Neil,
I want to share how I feel about Sherryl the supermodel from Good Omens. You've answered a question previously when someone felt that her representation was lacking empathy (re the visual effects note in the script book, although the scene was cut), and I want to offer my thoughts to help people who felt that way about Sherryl.
The book (Good Omens, not the scripts, which I haven't read) plays with dark topics and makes them absurd and fun, aiming the jabs at the systems that (mis)guide or harm people (there are Beliefs, the People who Believe them, and the odd ways of living that make sense to them). Famine's D-Plan sums up the diet industry and a culture of starvation: of course we don't laugh /at/ Sherryl, we understand (because of everything the novel sets up) that like every other human she does her best with the frameworks she's got. It's empathetic, because that's what Good Omens is. Understanding that let me reframe the knee-jerk reaction I had on my first read of the scene in the book.
[For the TV show, though, as you've explained in the past, certain things had to be adapted to the time. I wonder sometimes - because I know that you do these things well - how you felt about approaching Sherryl nearly 30 years later.]
I think the trouble for me was that the scene in the book felt cruel at first. Now, I think 'A skeleton in a Dior dress' beautifully sums up the sacrifice of her humanity to become New York's top model. It's death dressed up - that's how such extremely-ill supermodels *should* appear to us if only we were unblinkered. One should see plainly the actual violence in an emaciated person's appearance. Maybe growing up with early 2000s aggressive body-shaming British TV shows and an overweight mother of Sherryl's generation as well as personal experience of anorexia made the 'skeleton' image feel cruel, now-overdone and recognisable to the nastiest unhealed bits in my psyche.
I think the frightened human animal in me initially recoiled from the dehumanisation. The pit of me jerked at the descriptions of Sherryl that felt like real insults, pulled straight from mainstream body-shaming media of my formative years. Of course, Good Omens predates this - thin was in, religiously, and the scene was subversive then - but that was my initial bodily feeling, not a thoughtful response. I describe it to illustrate where the challenge was, after we've gone from skinny worship in the 90s, to domestic skinny enforcement, to skinny shame, to wherever we are now in the popular orthorexic fitness culture and clean-eating minefield etc etc. Starvation dehumanises, and Sherryl was sick to the point of being inhuman - the scene under a microscope might feel complicit in dehumanisation to the sensibilities of teens and young adults today (for the same reason that people in Trafalgar Square can't see England), but within the book it humanises Sherryl by showing you plainly what awful thing has happened to her.
What the book did for me was let me delight in a sense of humour that makes difficult things totally absurd and therefore perfectly understandable. It told me, everyone is doing their best (to the best of their understanding), and when the fun-poking poked at my own pressure points, it said, lovingly, yes, you too. Many things about the book are like laughing with a friend or receiving a warm hug - it makes the big things so silly, and shared, and okay.
Thanks :) x <3
I am glad that is how you saw her. That is how we saw her. (I'm reminded of the only time I was ever at a high fashion event, where I found myself profoundly shocked by the incredible thinness of the models, and how sorry for them I felt, and how I wanted to feed them soup and stew and sandwiches. And of a high fashion model I knew a little, when she went out with a friend of mine, who told me that some girls she knew used heroin to stop the hunger pains, injecting themselves between their toes, and later I learned that my friend broke up with her when he learned she was a heroin addict.)
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loveemagicpeace · 3 months
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Relationships & Other Things🦋🐚🌙
🍕Sagittarius Venus are actually more loyal in a relationship than most signs. They will be all in- in the relationship and give person the world. They are very devoted and when they love someone they are persistent in the relationship they have. They will share everything with this person. Many people do not understand this Venus and caress it enough in this position. For example, Venus in Aquarius is really hard to commit to a single partner for a long time - they will always look for freedom and something that will enrich their life and they are very independent in the things they do. Their love language is also quite different.
🥀Venus suggests a more adult level of affection and bonding - what we want others to appreciate and admire in us. The position of your Venus, by sign and house, as well as the aspects it makes to other planets, indicates what you find attractive and what you need in order to get on well with someone - for a relationship to work, there needs to be mutual appreciation of each other's desire nature. This is harder work of course if your Venus is, say, in Capricorn or in aspect to Saturn (suggesting a controlled and self-contained relating style) and your partner or friend has Venus in Sagittarius or aspecting Jupiter (suggesting an extraverted aesthetic and enjoyment of the good life),
✨Water moons feel loney souls. They sense when someone is a lost soul or when someone needs help. They have a very intuitive energy. Many times they feel much more than people think.
🍸Moon in 9th house- your home is somewhere else. These people often live somewhere else in another country because they can feel better there. They are often looking for their safe space. Many times these people feel as if nowhere is quite their home or as if they are constantly looking for their place under the sun. They may end up living far away from their family or somewhere you have to drive for a long time. But they have to feel home so that they can live in it.
🌛The Moon is perhaps the key planet of relationship in that it suggests how we form emotional bonds - how we nurture and care for others, and what we need from them in return in order to feel safe and comfortable.
🔥If your Moon is in a fire sign for instance, there is a need for life to be a colourful place of risks and potentials; if your partner or boss conversely has the Moon in an earth sign, your enthusiasm might well elicit an annoyingly sensible and risk-averse response that leaves you feeling flat. We are all driven by our basic instincts when it comes to our Moon.
🪐Saturn in Aries -they may be afraid of failure or they may be obsessed with achieving something. They tend to be competitive when it comes to themselves and their energy. They can often be in competition with themselves. Saturn shows where you are most serious and which area you take much more seriously than others.
🎳3rd house synastry many times indicates a person you knew from elementary school years. Or the person you met in high school. You have definitely met this person somewhere before, but you may not remember it right away. A lot of the people you share 3rd house with, you already met before.
🍬4th house synastry is often a person with whom you can create a cozy home and warmth. This house is most likely to make you think about living with this person.
🛼5th house synastry shows romance with the person and keeps the relationship alive. This means that you can fall in love with this person again and again. This house also reflects the fact that you think about children.
🌊8th house synastry you will share the darkest times with this person and they will help you in many things. This can also be the person with whom you can get the closest.
🎤Mercury gemini & libra love to talk and are quick to respond to messages. If you are interesting to them, they will keep the conversation with you. Aquarius mercury likes to talk about topics that are more controversial and not so much in the foreground. They will either write off quickly or not at all. Capricorn mercury mostly do not like to waste time on long conversations or texting. Virgo mercury likes to debate and talk about different things. If you ask them for advice, they will give it to you and tell you how they see it. But there are people who many times won't tell you directly if something bothered them.
🌨️Good & Bad side of zodiac signs☀️
💧Capricorn placements will do a lot for you because they are a sign of action and when you need something they will always be there for you. No matter what, they will always try to find a way. But their downside is sometimes that they devote too much time to career, success (in the sense that it becomes part of their life). They forget to enjoy life and sometimes know how to push themselves too much to the extreme.
🌬️Gemini placements are good at communicating, changing things, topics and everything. But their downside is that they change direction too quickly and don't focus enough on the person/thing. A person with a Gemini in Mars can often be prone to cheating if they do not have enough stable signs in chart.
🥨Taurus placements know how to do a lot for you, spoil you, buy you expensive things (they always buy you something you've always wanted). Their downside is that they can become too materialistic, stand up for money or put it first. And maybe sometimes they live a too monotonous life and don't want change.
🛁Virgo placements can sometimes be too obsessed with work, routine, order, perfection (they sometimes expect too much perfection from themselves and then consequently from their partner).The obsession health can be overwhelming at times. If someone will serve you things than this is them and a lot always about health, herbs.
🛍️Libra placements can sometimes adapt too much to society and to serving everyone before themselves. Sometimes it makes them a different person. You don't always need to be accepted into the circle or to be liked by everyone. Many times they can be obsessed with the fact that they should fix something on themselves even though they look beautiful (libra risings a lot of times). Sometimes they can look too much for balance and rationality in everything. It would be great if you could ever choose a side and not be on both sides at once. They invest a lot in the relationship and put the person they love first.
🥐Aquarius placements I think that they are often example of having commitment issues. I wouldn't say that they are the ones who want to be different or that they would repeat it too much. However, many times they have a specific opinion or view that is sometimes difficult to change, and many times they give an opinion about something that is not always appropriate. They are an intelligent sign and often accept and understand different things. They never find anything strange.
🩰Pisces placements I like their artistic nature, how they can swim in their own world. Their weakness is often that they look too much for some ideal of a person and when the person does not fit the description, they just leave. And that they can quickly find another person they like - I have the feeling with them that they are never fully committed to just one person. Many times they know how to manipulate and lie to others. It seems to me that one part of them is never fully visible.
🧩Cancer placements their downside is that they have their favorite people, whom they choose, and if you are not a person who is always available to them, they can quickly cut you out of their lives. Many times they can clearly show the difference between one person and another. And sometimes they don't feel bad if they gave one person more than others. But they know how to make a really warm and cozy home where you will always feel welcome.
🐬Scorpio placements sacrificed a lot for people that they love , they value their privacy and they are one of the signs that will never betray your secret and are truly devoted to you. Scorpio is all or nothing. They are a ride or die sign - forever sign. They share their soul with you and that's one of the most beautiful things about them to me. But it is their weakness that control, obsession, jealousy can take them over. They are quick to doubt people and things. Many times they have too much trust issues.
🍕Sagittarius placements have a lot of knowledge, they are one of the most optimistic signs and they can show you from a completely different perspective.Sometimes the problem with them is when they start looking for positivity in everything, in the sense that they don't allow themselves to be sad. Many times they are afraid that if they lose their meaning, they will have nothing to live for. They forget that sometimes you can live for others
❤️‍🔥Aries placements if anyone is braver it's them, they always take risks and know no shame. Their motto is do things - whatever will be will be. However, they can sometimes be too impulsive in their decisions. Sometimes they focus too much on themselves and forget how others feel. Many times they do to others exactly what they would not want others to do to them.They sometimes think that if they have done something a couple of times, that now you should invest even more. And if you don't invest as much as they expect, then they are like "okay bye". They have too high expectations sometimes.
🎬Leo placements are generous, youthful and love to do childish things. They know how to enjoy things without a bad conscience.And as they love you, they will always put you first. The bad side of them is that sometimes they want to be too much in the spotlight and that they relate everything to them. Sometimes they can be too irresponsible about their actions. Sometimes they don't know how to listen to the other person.
-Rebekah🍕🥨🦋
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myfictionaldreams · 9 months
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You're Mine, Sweetheart // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: Eddie Munson loved many things but above all else, he loved teasing you, especially when it was so easy to do. All day he had been whispering into your ear and giving lingering touches and now, you were ready for him to do whatever he wanted to you.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, dirty talk, pet names, teasing (LOTS), begging, sir kink, praise kink, panty kink/panty sniffing, discussion of past sex, restraints, polaroids, Eddie has an obsession with your smell and taste :), cum swallowing, blowjob, fingering, rough sex, pussy slapping, possessive behaviour, overstimulation, biting
Words: 6.6k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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It wasn’t a frequent event where you’d have to sleep by yourself, without your boyfriend wrapped around your body giving you warmth and comfort. Tonight unfortunately was one of those nights where you were tossing and turning, trying to find the same comfort that Eddie gave you, even positioning your pillows so that it may feel like him against your back but to no avail as you watched the hours slowly tick by on your alarm clock.
Eddie had a late-night gig at the hideout and your family had wanted to have a games night with even the extended family coming over so it wasn’t something you could sneak your way out of. By the time your family were in bed and Eddie was packing up his equipment, it would have been too late for him to come and pick you up and both decided like sensible adults to just meet the following day which also happened to be the weekly arcade meet up with all of your friends so that was something else to look forward to.
Now however, as the sun began to welcome the day,  you were dreading the idea of having to leave your bed and gain the energy to go to the arcade and hang with friends. Eddie, yes you wanted to see, but your social battery was already low and you’d hardly even started. As slumber was just about to consume your body, you were abruptly disturbed by your mom shouting up the stairs, “Darling, the phone!”.
With a pained grunt, you rolled out of bed, stumbling out of your room and down the stairs, not even bothering to open your eyes as you’d grown up in this house and could walk around it without looking. Knowing your mom had left the phone resting on top of the holder, you reached blindly for it and rested it against your face.
“Hello?”, your voice was croaky and thick with sleep, not that you cared though as you held the phone between your ear and shoulder so that you could rub the sleep out of your eyes.
A deep chuckle welcomed you on the other end of the line and immediately your entire body felt rejuvenated, a smile blooming across your lips. Your eyes opened but only to check your parents were anywhere close by as you began to nervously twist and play with the phone cable. “You sound just as tired as I feel, Sweetheart”, Eddie remarked but you could sense his happiness through his tone.
“Hey you”, your sleepy voice suddenly sounded light and flirtatious, “couldn’t sleep either?”.
Your boyfriend released an exacerbated sigh, followed by a soft known where you knew he’d rested his head back against the wall. “Nope, not a single second, missed you too much”.
His casual declaration for missing you, always so open about his feelings, made your heart thump harder in your chest like it was going to beat so hard your ribs would break. There was just something about knowing that he was as attached to you as you were to him.
“I missed you too. How was the gig?”, You bit your lip as he began to talk, it felt like you’d swallowed hundreds of little butterflies with the tumbling nerves floating in your stomach which always seemed to happen when talking to Eddie, he had you hooked beyond a reasonable doubt.
“It was fucking awesome! I nailed the solo, you know, the one I’ve been practising all week? Even got a well-done head nod from a couple of the locals which I thought was pretty neat”.
Your smile spread to a full grin hearing his passion as you praised him for doing so well, “That’s amazing Eddie! I wish I was there to see it, I’m sorry again that I wasn't, you know I would always come to support you if I could”.
“It’s no worries, Sweetheart, I only would have been distracted by you in the crowd like I always am. Especially when you start jumping up and down in those corroded coffin shirts”. The apples of your cheeks warmed as you glanced over your shoulder to double-check check your parents weren’t within earshot. When you and Eddie had begun to date, he gave you a corroded coffin shirt which was just a cheap white shirt with the name scribbled in a black sharpie so you redesigned it slightly and cut the sleeves and around the neckline so that the tops of your cleavage would be exposed.
When you didn’t respond to Eddie, he continued, the pitch of his voice lowering to the way that he usually used when he was whispering in your ear to get you in a certain mood. “Want to know a secret?”
“Yes”, you reply with an only just audibly heard response as your tongue suddenly feels heavy and thick in your mouth as you wait in anticipation for what he has to tell you.
“Do you remember those Polaroids we took a couple of weeks ago? The ones when we skipped school and hid in my van?”
Your cunt instantaneously pulse in sudden arousal at the reminder of those explicitly scandalous pictures from the time he’d convinced you to both skip school after spending most of the day whispering sweet nothings into your ear and getting you so riled up that you were practically begging him to tie you up in the back of his van and fuck you. So of course, he did just that: he had to take a pretty picture to remind him of the sight of you at his mercy.
“Princess?” Eddie asked when you once again didn’t reply.
“Sorry, yeah I remember those”.
“Good. Because it slipped my mind that I’d hidden a few of them in my guitar case so what a happy surprise for me when right before I went on stage, I found the Polaroid beneath my guitar. The one where your arms and legs are tied together with my cock buried into that pretty pussy of yours”.
You had to bite your lip to hold back the moan threatening to burst from you as you also had to lean against the wall due to your knees trembling as slickness gathered between your legs.
Eddie continued, “I had to go on stage with a fucking hard-on - luckily the guitar covered it but, as I looked out and couldn’t see you, all I could think about last night were your perfect tits, bouncing up and down- god I miss them!” he groaned deeply. “Want to know how bad it got? At the end of the gig I had to run to the bathroom and jerk off before I creamed in my pants like a fucking teenager”.
You were absentmindedly rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the ache and need that had settled through your core, your nipples pebbling beneath your shirt and rubbing against the material.
“And then”, Eddie continued, “oh… well I can always tell you what I did when I got back home when I see you later, how does that sound Princess?”
“Good”, you say breathlessly.
“Good, what?” Eddie encouraged.
“Good sir”, your entire body heated now with embarrassment, quickly remembering where you were so you glanced over your shoulders to check that your parents hadn’t suddenly appeared but thankfully they were still in the kitchen and couldn’t hear.
“That’s my girl”, his voice once again spiked arousal straight between your legs and you were sure that if in person you’d be begging for him to touch you, pleasure you until you couldn’t remember your name. “What time should I pick you up?” Eddie asked, casually snapping you out of your erotic thoughts and changing the subject completely.
Shaking your head to try and clear your mind, you contemplated for a moment, “Um, I could be ready in 30 minutes so whenever you’d like, no rush or anything, I don’t think we’re meeting anyone until midday anyway”.
“I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes”, were his last words before he hung up, no doubt in a rush to come and pick you up which then meant you also had to rush but you were almost giddy with excitement.
Washing was a simple task but staring at your wardrobe felt like an endless journey. Do you wear jeans or a skirt? Do you go casual or dressy? Pink or blue? You were able to give up and lie on the bed when a blue, knee-length dress caught your eye. It was simple, floaty thin material that wasn’t too over the top but pleasant enough to meet out with friends. Especially as it matched your Converse and jacket, you were happy and had enough time to apply a light sprinkling of make-up but not too much as Eddie always preferred you more naturally than all dolled up.
Looking at yourself once last time, you moved downstairs to wait for your boyfriend, having 2 minutes to quickly pick up a slice of toast before the tale tell rattle and bang from his van were heard through the open window. Quickly pecking both of your parents’ cheeks, you ran to the door, not stopping with your swift pace until you were colliding with a solid chest.
“Woah, hey Sweetheart”, Eddie laughed, cradling the back of your head and shoulders as you nuzzled into his plain black shirt, breathing in his scents of the recently smoked cigarette, leather jacket and cheap deodorant but under all of that was the lemon from his shampoo.
“Hey!” You couldn’t help but beam up at him, looking like a love-sick puppy but happy to see that he was giving you the same look as he dipped his lips to steal a kiss from your lips. You checked him over unsubtly, from his ripped baggy black jeans to the loosely done ponytail that already had a few curls escaping.
Your boyfriend was doing the same check as you as his chocolate eyes roamed over your outfit, focusing slightly for a second as he licked his lips and then snapping out of whatever he’d just remembered. Leaning over, you thought he was going to kiss you again but instead, he took a hefty bite out of your slice of toast before asking “Ready?”
Nodding your head, Eddie happily helped you into the van to be his passenger princess before climbing in himself. The two of you drove around for a while as you both caught up with each other's time without the other, no mention of Polaroids or whatever it was that Eddie did after returning home. 
Even though it has been less than 24 hours since you saw him last, the conversation seemed to flow endlessly as you sat happily next to him, admiring his dimpled grin and exaggerated expressions with his hands as he told you about Gareth locking himself out of his car. 
You laughed and casually leaned your head against his shoulder as he began to drive in the direction of the arcade. Eddie's hand gently landed on your covered thigh, stroking his thumb in comforting circles over the thin material. “Do you remember the last time you wore this dress?” He asks casually before kissing your temple whilst keeping his eyes on the road.
Your face set in concentration as you looked down at the dress, like it could spark a memory for you but it didn’t so you shook your head no, expecting him to say something cute like you wore it for your first date or something; he always had a good memory on these sorts of things.
As you were staring at the road, you weren’t able to see the corner of his lips quip up as he excited himself to tell you. His ringed fingers squeezed slightly against your thigh as he said two simple words: movie night.
A heavy breath rushed from you as it all came flooding back. The last time you’d decided to wear this outfit, Eddie had been so riled up by the pretty clothing, that he’d complimented you almost constantly as you both attended Steve’s for a group movie night. However neither you nor Eddie saw the end of the film as the two of you were locked in the bathroom with Eddie's fingers pumping into your hole.
“Remember now?” He asked noting the way your thighs clenched and eyes unfocused slightly.
“Yes I remember”, you mumbled in response, refusing the meet his eye contact for fear that you’d fall right into those beautiful orbs and lose your mind. 
“Good, I want you to think about that today as we’re out and about because I know for damn sure that’s exactly what I’m going to be thinking about”.
“Ok”, you paused for a breath and added, “sir” for good measure, absentmindedly reaching for the hand on your lap to play with his chunky silver rings, twisting them around and around. A little habit you’d developed when you were feeling somewhat submissive and needy, finding the touch of his jewellery comforting as it meant he was close. Eddie smirked down as he also noticed this, loving how easy it was for him to get you all worked up and needy for him, In fact, it was something he craved, especially when you clung to him like a koala, he needed you just as much as you needed him so welcomed the grabbing and touches. 
The two of you arrived and somehow managed to be late, even though you’d both been driving around for a while. Everyone was already inside the arcade, hardly even noticing your entrance until Eddie shouted, “The fun has arrived!”. Not only did this bring the attention of all of your friends but also the attention of everyone else so you promptly rushed to your favourite machine.
Eddie of course, followed directly behind you, wanting to stay close even though he was itching to play a different machine. Inserting the money, you began to play, full concentration on the tiny screen in front of you but this was swiftly distracted by the warm solid body standing directly behind you. His comforting smell wrapped around you like a warm hug as he rested his chin on your shoulder, hair stroking against your cheek and hands on your waist beneath your jacket. It was nice to just be in each other's company, friends around, casually chatting as they gamed next to you but once they’d left and you were once again just with each other, you became hyper-aware of his presence and casual kisses against your ticklish neck.
“Don’t get distracted now, Sweetheart”, Eddie teased whilst tightening his hold on your waist, pulling himself even more flush against your back. “Just concentrate on the game, not on me”.
Your silence was enough to know that you were doing exactly the opposite of his request and were tongue-tied and unable to think of a witty response. Especially as he gently blew onto your ear, sending a rush down your spine. “Keep your eyes on the screen, otherwise how will you win?”, Eddie’s voice was low and his chest vibrated against your back. Your eyes snapped back to the screen, not even realising that you’d tried to glance over your shoulder up at him. Eddie had returned to his earlier mindset, intent to thoroughly dampen your underwear and muddle your coherent thoughts with arousal and need, especially as he casually remarked, “I know it’s highly inappropriate but I would really love to take you back to my van and lift this dress right now and see what fun I could have”.
Thankfully Eddie's arms remained locked around your body as your knees wobbled and a weak moan burst from your throat but luck was on your side as the game machines were louder so no one could hear.
Eddie heard though as he laughed in your ear, “The thing is, I know you’d let me because you’re my special Princess, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir”, you say without a care in the world or the fact that you’re in a public space.
“That’s my girl, keep up the good work”, his plump lips smashed into your cheek in a dramatic display of affection and then he was gone, moving away to play his own game, leaving you clutching onto the edges of the machine, trying to not look like you were about to melt into the floor.
Making a split-second decision, you purposefully died on the game and trailed after your boyfriend, finding him shouting at a game that was accepting his change. Eddie didn’t say anything as you slid your arms around his middle and ducked under his arm, he simply kissed your forehead and calmed down enough to play the game around your body.
Another hour came and went and you’d finally deemed it safe enough to venture on your own without feeling too needy to be around Eddie. However, it didn’t last long as he returned over your shoulder.
“Want to know the naughty things that I did when I got home last night?”, he asked referring to the conversation you’d had earlier in the morning.
Your fingers hesitated over the brightly coloured controls so Eddie swiftly braced his arms around you to continue playing on your behalf, holding your fingers onto the controls so you were now both playing. You wanted to know Eddie’s erotic tale of his adventures last night that were sure to drive you crazy but you were unsure of the public setting, knowing that you were already horny for him and any further taunting would drive you crazy. Eddie of course, was going to tell you regardless of whether it was a public space or not and was desperate to see just how crazed he could drive you so he didn’t wait for your response before continuing in short, swift statements.
“I got home, found a pair of your panties that still are hidden in my room… and touched myself whilst sniffing them like a fucking perv.”
You tried to turn and look at him to see if he was being serious or not but his arms tightened, keeping you facing forward.
There was too much to process but also not that much at all. He’s actually pleasured himself whilst sniffing your underwear. Eddie was always very vocal and complimentary of how much he loved your smell and taste and that it drove him crazy but you always assumed that it was all just words in the heat of the moment but clearly it wasn’t as he’d been able to pleasure himself with just your smell alone.
Neither of you said anything about this event, mostly because you were trying to convince your body to calm down and Eddie was silently planning his next way to tease you. Even as the hours passed, and you both mingled with friends, played games and snacked, Eddie would continue to whisper things under his breath to you.
Then there were his hands, brushing over your hands, tickling the skin on your neck, a stark comparison to the heavy touches against your hips, holding and squeezing as he’d casually walk past. Eddie Munson was unequivocally on a mission and you were failing very quickly.
It also seemed that Eddie was falling into his own trap, especially as he briefly glanced up at you from across the room and saw that you were biting your lip whilst looking at him, eyes exploring his body and something inside of him snapped. One minute you were surrounded by the bright colours of the arcade, the musky smell of aged carpet and the varying ages of people. The next moment, you’re greeted with fresh air and only Eddie surrounding you as he drags into the alleyway behind the arcade.
Your body was pushed against the uncomfortable brick wall as Eddie rested his arms on either side of your head, body pressed against your front and face dipped into your neck.
“Tease me some more and I’ll show you my reaction.”
“I…I wasn’t teasing, I mean- I wasn’t doing it on purpose”, you tried to explain with panic evident in your voice, already showing Eddie you were slipping further into your submissive mindset of always trying to make him happy.
“Uh huh”, Eddie continued to taunt, “I can see right through your pretty little lies. If you want to tease me like this, then you wouldn’t mind if I teased you right back, is that what you wanted? To trase me so much that I snap and fuck you in this disgusting alleyway?”
You couldn’t talk, eyes wide and worried and yet also wanting him to do exactly that. Eddie has you exactly where he wants you and almost feels bad for a moment knowing that he had been the one to do all the teasing but that didn’t stop him, especially as he had you so pent up. Lifting his ringed hand, he begins by stroking down your jaw with the tips of his fingers, all the whilst his jean-covered thigh lifts and slots itself between yours until it was flush against your clothed cunt.
You simultaneously whimper and shudder, pressing your hips down on your leg to add more stimulation to where you want to be touched the most.
Eddie’s eyes were dark as he studied you, “Look at you, already a whimpering little mess to my touches. Tell me, Sweetheart, what do you want me to do to you?”
Your brain screamed “everything!” and it seemed your mouth did the same as the next moment Eddie snickered. However, he did the opposite of what you wanted as he pulled his body away from yours and took a step back, not wanting to fuck you in the alleyway. His van was one thing but a dirty street? He’d never treat his princess like that.
Seeing and hearing your disappointment at his warmth moving away, he quickly cupped your cheeks, stroking his thumbs against the apple of your cheeks and pulling you into the most delicate kiss that he could muster. Your whimpers turned into mewls as your body raised onto the tips of your toes to try and be closer and deepen the kiss.
“Want you, Eddie, please can we go?” you asked between kisses.
Eddie contemplated denying you for a moment, knowing that the two of you should probably hang with your friends for a little longer but looking at the need in your pretty eyes and feeling your hands gripping his wrists like you never wanted to let go, he knew it was probably best to head back.
“Alright Sweetheart, don’t worry I’ll look after my needy girl, let’s get you to the van and I’ll tell the others we’re leaving”. He heard you audibly sigh in relief as he grasped your hands, interlocking your fingers together before heading in the direction of the car park however, you only took a few steps before stopping. “What’s wrong?” 
You were rubbing your legs together like you needed to pee but it wasn’t this that was the issue. “It’s uncomfortable to walk with wet panties, they’re rubbing on my skin”.
Eddie’s eyes immediately zoned in on the area that you were talking about like he had x-ray vision and could see through your dress. Licking his lips, he suggested, “Well, why don’t you take them off?”
Without even checking if there was anyone at the end of the alleyway, you reached beneath your dress and pulled down your matching shade of blue to the dress underwear, that blissful sigh of relief returning. Eddie to his credit was shocked that you would do something like this within view of anybody walking past and his cock throbbed painfully within his baggy jeans as he saw the sheen of arousal on the material.
Your boyfriend acted on instinct as he quickly grabbed your underwear and rubbed his thumb against the patch of juices, his eyes remaining on you though as he then sucked on his thumb. It was almost pornographic the moan he released, eyes rolling back in his head dramatically. Before you could even squeak or react, Eddie shoved the panties into his leather jacket pocket and grabbed your hand again, moving with more speed towards his van.
Much like this morning, he opened the passenger door for you to climb into, his hands on your waist again to give you a boost up before he shut the door and ran, actually running, into the arcade to say bye to everyone.
Whilst waiting for him, you tried to regain composure, deciding it was much too hot for your jacket and shrugging it off. Eddie returned in record time, slightly out of breath from how fast he’d run in and out of the building as he gave you a cheeky grin, his dimples deepening as he turned on the engine.
“What did you tell them?”, you asked.
“Just that you weren’t feeling very well and I needed to get you home to rest. I think they bought the lie but I also don’t care right now, I just want to be with you”.
You smiled fondly at him, cuddling in close to his side and resting your head on his shoulder as he rested his hand on your thigh in a stronghold which you appreciated, needing it to help ground you to the moment as you played with his rings.
Eddie drove like a madman, even though his body showed that he was at ease, it was clear that he just wanted to be back at his trailer already as he probably broke a couple of laws with how he was driving. The two of you both smiled upon seeing his home and after he parked up, he ran around to your side of the van and helped you down the large step. Thankfully his Uncle Wayne would be at work until the early hours of the morning so you both didn’t need to worry about being interrupted.
Once inside, Eddie let go of his hold on your hips so that he could shrug off his jacket, throwing it onto the couch. “Do you want a beer?” he asked over his shoulder, kicking off his shoes as he walked, something you also did but left them neatly next to the door rather than in a messy pile like Eddies.
“No thank you”, you politely responded, rubbing your arms with the loss of his warmth as your eyes followed his every move. Once more Eddie’s moves were calculated, knowing that you’d quickly follow after him, needing to feel him close, having felt like you’d waited too long to finally be properly alone with him.
Before he could even open the beer, you slid in front of him and pulled his face down to yours, kissing him desperately and breathlessly. The beer clattered onto the kitchen countertop as Eddie laughed against your mouth at how frantic you’d become. He pulled away, glancing down to see that you were trying to rub your body up against his.
“Aw, my princess, are you feeling needy?” he spoke in a patronizing tone which only made you lean in further to prove your point.
“Yes”, you gasp, trying once more to pull his face down to yours but he takes over, taking your wrists in one hand and pushing your body back until you are pressed up against the refrigerator with your hands now held above your head.
“What do you want? Tell me.”.
“I want you, please Sir”.
Eddie clicked his tongue, “Be specific, what do you want from me?”
“Everything I want…everything please, I need you, Eddie”.
The Hellfire leader felt like his chest was going to explode with how hard his heart was beating seeing you like this, he’d expected you to be needy but this desperate? He was ready to walk on flaming coals if you’d asked but he continued his taunting for now, wanting to see if he could get you to say something dirty.
“Aw… Have I turned you into a wet puddle?”
You moan at his words, bucking your hips to show him where you want to be touched. You pulled on your wrists as well, wanting to get out of his hold to play with his hair, kiss his neck, rip his clothes off, just something!
“I think the lack of sleep and horniness has ruined your pretty little submissive head, what do you think?”
You again moan but this time in frustration, face scrunching up as you weren’t getting what you wanted. The hand that wasn’t holding your wrists hovered over your body, moving up the dress until he was grasping your jaw, forcing you to look up into his beautiful puppy eyes that were now hardened and full of dominance. You could feel his chunky rings biting into your skin as his breath kissed the skin of your cheek as he contemplated just what he wanted to do with you first. “I love how responsive you are to me”, Eddie praised, “I mean, look how needy you are after just a few words and touches through the day. You really are mine, aren’t you?”
“Yes, only yours Eddie- Sorry, I meant Sir”, you quickly corrected yourself.
Eddie’s gaze softened slightly as he could see your thoughts racing with the need to please him in every way. “It’s ok, you can say my name, I always like it when you say my name”. Gently he kissed the tip of your nose, giving you a moment of care before asking, “I’ll giv eyou the option. Do you want me to touch you or do you want to touch me?”
“I want to touch you”, you say without a second's hesitation.
Eddies grip released as he held his hands away from you, “Then I’m all yours”.
He expected you to jump into his arms, kissing him or pulling on his hair like you always did when you needed him to be closer but this wasn’t what you did. Instead, you dropped to your knees and clawed at his jeans. Surprising even yourself, you managed to undo his zipper, reach into his checkered boxers and find his cock, hard and waiting for you as you pulled it out of the unzipped hole. Not even bothering to undo his belt as you just wanted to have him in your mouth.
“Shit Princess, Jesus Christ!”, Eddie shouted as your lips wrapped around the tip of his throbbing cock where it was wet with precum and red with how long he’d been hard for. You didn’t want to tease him, you just wanted him to find the ultimate pleasure so you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him deeper.
Your boyfriend tipped his head back, biting his knuckle to hold back the shouts that were sure to be loud enough to disturb the neighbours. Inch after inch of his cock slipped down your tongue and to the back of your throat until you were gagging but you kept him there, not pulling out until you were gasping for air.
“Wait, just wait a second”, Eddie gasped after a couple of minutes. Quickly, he undid his belt and button, moving the material of his jeans and boxers down his hips until his cock and balls were waiting proudly for your mouth.
“Thank you”, you say politely to him, wrapping a hand around the base and moving it out of the way so that you could suck on his balls, pulling each one into your mouth before returning to taking his length. Eddie rested a hand against the back of your head eventually helping your movement by pushing you further down, until you were gagging and burning for air, but the throb of his cock was only adding to the pleasure of it all.
“Let me see those eyes”, he softly demanded, and you hadn’t even realised your eyes had closed whilst in the thought of nothing but his cock. Opening them quickly, you made eye contact and were praised with a loving stroke of the back of his hand against your cheek. “Always so good for me, I fucking love you”, Eddie grunted, his hips snapping and balls tightening at the same time and you knew he was on the verge of cumming. His velvet shaft became harder against your tongue as you sucked him more vigorously “Swallow”, was all he demanded and you did just that as he swore, his pink lips dropping open as he came down your throat. His salty goodness was thick as you swallowed every single drop.
“Fuck Sweetheart, you did so well for me”, Eddie praised a moment later after his cock stopped throbbing and began to soften. Pulling out, strings of saliva connected the tip of his cock to your mouth as he chuckled, wiping it away, “Oh you’re drooling everywhere… Come here.”
Eddie helped you to stand but seeing how unsteady and weak your knees were, he lifted you onto the kitchen countertop, spreading your legs and lifting your dress to expose your drenched cunt to him. In a harsh grip, he grabbed a handful of your hair, holding you steady as he spread your juices around with his middle finger, circling your hole before pushing in.
“Look at you and to think, I’ve only just started using my fingers and you’re already shaking”, he taunted as he pushed his finger in and out slowly, watching your body respond with gasps and twitches. As he added a second finger, he praised, “I love the way you look with my fingers inside of you”.
Your hips bucked at his words as you tried to match his movements, especially as he began to curl his fingers to stroke against your pleasurable spot. However, then you said something that he wasn’t expecting, “Please don’t be gentle with me”.
Eddie didn’t need telling twice as he pulled out and gave your pussy a sharp slap, directly over your neglected clit. He rubbed away with a sting before doing it again and again, watching as you cried out and tried to lean into the touch and only did he stop when your pussy was drenched, puffy and your clit was overstimulated. “Did you like that Princess? Do you like it when I’m rough with you?”
“Yes, thank you sir!”, you shouted, whilst also leaning into the hand still holding your hair.
“So desperate today, aren’t you Sweetheart. Come on let's get this off of you”, as he spoke, he released his hold but only to grip the dress and lift it up and over your head. Next, he helped you down from sitting on the side but only so that he could turn you around and bend you over it instead as he also undid your bra and discarded that to the floor. The dress you’d worn was mde of a stretchy, flimsy material so he was easily able to use it to tie it around your wrists, getting the restrained behind your back.
“Let’s go”, he instructs, holding onto the material and using it to move you around, manhandling you to walk from the kitchen and into his bedroom, helping you to be face first on his mattress, careful to not hurt your neck as your arms were still restrained and arse perked into the air for him.
Eddie began to remove his clothes as you wiggled your hips invitingly and your boyfriend admired the perfect view in front of him before kneeling between your legs, hands massaging the flesh of your hips.
“Say you’re mine”, he demanded in a low, rough voice.
“I’m yours”.
“Tell me again”, he asked as he looked from your face to your cunt.
“I’m yours, Eddie”.
Hearing his name again, he couldn’t wait any longer as he carefully pushed the tip of his now hard cock into your hole. You were already so sensitive, even though you hadn’t cum yet, with all of the arousal pulsing through you, it felt like you’d already orgasmed a handful of times and with Eddie’s recent orgasm, he was just as sensitive. He moved slowly, even though you wanted it rough, he didn’t want to actually hurt you, knowing exactly what your limis were so he made sure to give you time to stretch and get used to his size.
However, once your moans were echoing around the room and you were trying to push yourself back on his cock, he released the restraint that he was holding onto. With his hands holding onto your hips, Eddie began to fuck you relentlessly, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix, his bals smacking into your clit and hips pushing your face into the bed.
Eventually your knees lose any strength that was holding your body up and you collapsed forward onto the bed. Eddie didn’t stop though, especially when he could hear how good you were feeling so he moved one of your legs up, giving him more room and he body crowded over your back as he bites your shoulder.
“Wanna cum Eddie, your words were muffled against the bed but he could already feel how close you were from how tight your pussy was clenching.
“You can cum for me, you’re doing so well”, he praised, licking over the spot he’d just bitten.
However, you groaned in frustration rather than pleasure as you moaned, “But I wanna cum with you Eddie, please cum in my pussy”.
“Oh Princess, all you had to do was ask”.
Eddie fucked you harder, his mouth sloppily kissing your cheek as you tried to hold back your orgasm for as long as possible but it was getting too much, everything was too overwhelming and eventually you couldn’t keep it back anymore.
You came hard and with a high-pitched scream, your pussy clenching so tightly around Eddie that he too found his release, orgasming together, both sensitive and bodies rocking together through the pulses of pleasure.
He stayed inside of you for a moment, trying to catch his breath and it was only when he could feel your restrained fingers wiggling against his abdomen did he push his weight up on his arms to kiss delicately across your bare shoulder. “That tickles”, he mumbled, causing you to giggle tiredly.
Carefully, he knelt back, undoing your bound wrists and massaging the areas to get them to relax at your side. “I'm going to pull out, ok?”
You nod but still hiss at the discomfort of your walls being stimulated whilst being so sensitive and then there was the gush of his cum and your juices that began to pour out and down your clit. “My favourite sight”, he admires, stroking your arse cheek as you smiled over your shoulder before closing your eyes and taking a moment to relax.
Eddie clambers off of the bed, turning on his stereo to the latest heavy metal album and then returningto caefully wipe way between your legs before manhandling your to lie across his chest. There the two of you just lay, enjoying the post-sex high.
Eventually, Eddie sparked up a cigarette, careful to try and blow the smoke away from you but the smell of it had become a comfort for you as you nuzzled further into his naked chest, feeling sleep nearly taking over.
A delicate kiss to the tip of your nose however had you coming back to the moment and opening your eyes, “Hey, don’t go to sleep for me just yet, I’m not quite done with you. We’re just having a little break but I still need to taste you Sweetheart”.
Your body warmed and you were now wide awake with the adrenaline pulsing through you. Eddie took another long suck of smoke, blowing it into the air and you never realised just how much the sight would turn you on. It was going to be a very long, sleepless night.
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johnskleats · 2 months
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is anyone going to tell the kat@angers that it's not feminist activism to argue Katara's arc in LOK is fine on the grounds that "some women want to be homemakers and that's okay!!"
Like you're not helping real women that way. In fact, most antis for the cannon ship ARE women. Many are homemakers themselves.
Katara is not a real woman. She is a fictional woman written by men.
Can the sensibilities and wishes of a girl change by the time she is a adult? Yes!
But as this is a textual character who, as per the text, rejects the societal structure of her fictional world (which mirrors our own) that women are and can only ever be docile homemakers (i.e. I don't want to heal, I want to fight; I will never turn my back on people who need me; let's start a prison riot; let's engage in vigilante ecoterrorism; let's pitch an absolute fit because the boys are not pulling their fair weight in the homemaking; let's confront my mother's killer at the absolute rejection and condemnation of the male figures whom I am to respect; etc) it is perfectly reasonable to argue that this end was not a natural course for her character.
Fictional characters are not real people. This means that they do not change their mind off screen. That is not an acceptable argument. That is called a "plot hole", which is a nonsensical change made at the convenience and contrivance of the writer(s), who in this case are men exhibited to not care for women or girls all that much. It is within THEIR character to write this way.
Regardless of who, if anyone, Katara ended up with, Katara tolerating disrespect, neglect, abuse of her children, giving up all of her former aspirations to live in the shadow of men, and dying as a mere footnote in history (and being alright with it!!) is not surprising given the absolute vitriol Bryke has shown toward female fans of their "creation". It was supposed to be a "boy" show. It was always supposed to be a "boy" show. The creators of Supernatural and Game of Thrones did the same thing. ATLA just did it first.
Arguing "not all women" is not activism in the face of what is really happening in this discourse. Sending death threats to real, actual women with feelings in defense of a fake pretend woman's fake pretend autonomy is performative activism, and worse, hypocritical.
Not all women agree with you. Not all women feel represented and find the outcome of Katara's story satisfactory. If y'all care about feminism and respecting women's choices so much, lay off the real life women you're so fond of harassing. Our views and opinions, while opposing your own, don't affect you.
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starryevermore · 4 months
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the house of snow (1) ✧ coriolanus snow
the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board | ao3
pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.
chapter summary: your parents are convinced that you will marry the king by the end of the social season. and so, too, it seems does coriolanus snow.  
word count: 2,764 
series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later 
chapter warnings?: no use of y/n, you cannot stand coryo, not proofread
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Coriolanus Snow’s rise to the throne was something you never expected to come to fruition. When you were younger, you remembered your peers talking about how Snow wanted to one day rule Panem. At the time, you thought it was just another wild dream of a child. Something a child would say when an adult asks what they wish to be when they grow up. “A pirate!” one might exclaim. Or, perhaps, “A painter!” The sort of thing that a sensible parent would shrug off and not dedicate anymore thought to. The Snow family, as it turned out, was not particularly sensible. 
When the Former King Ravinstill died without warning, the throne was left vacant. Everyone knew that the old man had little life left in him. Yet, despite his age, he had a tendency to power through. No one thought he would have lived as long as he did, but he had. So, the Electors had not yet begun considering his replacement. No one had been prepared enough to seek candidacy. No one, except Coriolanus Snow. A few other eligible persons put forth their names, but no one garnered support quite like the young man. From a prominent family, the son of a general, had served briefly himself, intelligent, and had the financial backing of the Plinth family? There was no version of history where Snow could lose. 
Within weeks of Ravinstill’s death, Snow was crowned King. 
You did not care for politics, so you knew little of his reign. But your father seemed pleased, talking often and loudly about how the young Snow would restore Panem to its former glory. You weren’t so sure of that. Though you did not interact with him often in your younger years, you remembered Snow as someone who was self-serving. Who would pretend to care if only it could further his own interests. He very well might let all of Panem burn if it meant he could gain from it. But your father was quite pleased with Snow as King and, when word began to spread that Snow would be seeking a bride this next social season, your father pushed hard for you to woo the King. 
“If you wish to serve your family well, my little dove, you will convince the King to marry you,” your father told you the moment he heard the news. 
You all but scoffed. “I hardly think I am the sort of woman he wishes to marry. A man like him would want someone meek, someone who would not challenge his authority. We hardly ever agreed on the schoolyard, and for that reason, he never considered me a friend. How could he ever see me as a wife?”
Your father’s eyes narrowed at you. “It is your responsibility, then, to make yourself small so that he may choose you.”
“I would rather die than sacrifice my ideals, Papa,” you said. “Why can I not vie for any other’s attention? I know Lord Plinth quite well. I’ve always enjoyed his company. It would be easy to win his heart and have our family set for life. Certainly easier than winning over the King.”
He sneered, “The only thing the Plinth family is good for is their money. I want to be respected. We would be little more than social pariahs if you wed the Plinth boy.”
“I shall not marry the King—”
Your mother stepped in before you could say something you might come to regret. She placed a hand on your arm, directing your attention to her. “Never mind that now. There is still time before the season begins for minds to be changed.”
“I shall not change my mind, Mama.”
She looked over at your father, who was the perfect picture of irate. She looked back to you. “Perhaps, but perhaps not. Let us go clear our minds, yes? We should go order new gowns at the modiste before everyone else floods her with demands.”
“You cannot distract me with fashion.”
“But you would do well to pretend that I have.”
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Your efforts to convince your parents that you would not, under any circumstance whatsoever, marry Coriolanus Snow did not do anything for you. Despite your best efforts, you now stood in the palace for the King’s Ball, wearing the most beautiful powder blue gown fresh from the modiste, trying and failing to hide from your mother, so that you might delay her forcing you onto Snow. For now, though, she had been distracted by a conversation with Lady Dovecote about…whatever mothers talked about. Surely some scheme that would end with either you or Clemensia as Snow’s betrothed. You rolled your eyes at the thought. 
A familiar voice said your name. When you turned, you were greeted by the sight of Sejanus Plinth, holding two glasses of lemonade. He handed one to you, remarking, “I never knew you to be one to hide from the crowd.”
“I shall hide from the crowd when my mama is convinced I shall become Queen by the end of the season.”
“Ah.” Sejanus took a drink and laughed. “Strange, isn’t it? Seeing everyone we grew up with vying for Coryo’s attention.”
Coryo? Oh, yes. That was the nickname those close to Snow would call him. You had forgotten that the two were friends. Hmm, perhaps you could use that information the next time your parents try to force a connection with Snow. Something about how getting close to his friend might make him interested in you. “That it is. It seems as though everyone has lost their minds just for a glimpse of the crown.”
Sejanus laughed again. Then he looked at you a little more seriously, and said, “If I am honest, I am surprised you are not among those fighting for Coryo’s attention.”
Your brows pinched together. “You think I am interested in climbing the social ladder? Lord Plinth, you should know me well enough that I care more for a love match than gaining a title.”
“No, no. That is not what I meant. I remember in school that you and Coryo always had a sort of connection. Truthfully, I thought one of you might have acted on it sooner when you entered society.”
“The only connection we had was that of hatred. We despised each other.”
Sejanus shook his head, his curls bouncing. “I do not think that was true for Coryo. He liked that you challenged him. He has never been the sort of person who liked people who switch their position when the tide seems to turn. He likes people who are firm in their convictions.”
You laughed. “He’s told you this?”
“Not in so many words. But you have to wonder why he always sought you out.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps he is crueler than we all think.”
Sejanus moved to protest, but another beat him to it. “Or perhaps you judge without truly knowing.”
You froze. Oh, how you had hoped that you could have avoided him tonight! Damn Sejanus and his friendship with Snow. So much for him being your safe haven during these balls. You might as well have lit a beacon leading straight to you. Alas, you did not want Snow to see the hatred you had brewing for him. Even if you did not like the man, you would be a social pariah if you made such feelings known to him. So, you painted on a smile as you turned to look at Snow. “Or perhaps I made an educated guess supported by the evidence of past interactions.”
Snow snorted, turning his gaze to Sejanus. “Always so quick with a response, she is.”
Sejanus glanced at you, a knowing look in his eyes. If you were a mindreader, you could imagine him gloating in his mind about how he was right, that this was a sign that Snow cared for you in some way. But you only knew it to be yet another indicator that you and Snow could never, ever, get along. “Her wit has never dulled.”
“Should we see, then, if her dance skills are still equally sharp?”
Sejanus looked at you again, a brilliant smile on his face. Oh, how you wished to wipe that look off. This was not proof of anything. This did not prove his point. “I could not think of anything better.”
Damn you, Sejanus Plinth. Damn you. 
Snow held his arm out for you to take. You stared at it, not moving. “In order to dance with a lady, you must ask her. I do not recall you asking me anything.”
Snow glanced just beyond you. When you turned your head to follow his gaze, you saw your mother and Lady Dovecote watching the interaction carefully. As you looked back at Snow, he said, “Your mother would be disappointed if you did not dance with me.”
“It is amazing you became King when you are so lacking in manners.” But you knew your mother—the entirety of the ton, perhaps—would consider you insane to turn the King down so openly. So you took his arm and let him lead you onto the dance floor. 
He snorted. “You are the only person who speaks so freely to me.”
“Ah, so this is one last dance before my execution? How kind. Perhaps I was wrong about your cruelty.”
“There is much you are wrong about,” Snow said. You had reached the dance floor. The crowd parted around you, allowing you and Snow to take the middle of the floor. You faced him, allowing his hand to fall to you waist. You placed one hand on his shoulder, and let him take the other in his free hand. “It would be far too much of a shame to take your life.”
“Such a kind and gentle king.”
“Only for those who deserve it.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother miming for you to smile. You fought the urge to sneer instead. Even if you would rather do anything else than be courted by Coriolanus Snow, acting out would not do you any favors. If you had any hope in finding a love match, you had to at least be cordial to him. So you smiled as prettily as you could. But you couldn’t help yourself from saying, “Then perhaps you should go see a physician. You seem to have lost your mind.”
To your surprise, Snow laughed. The sound almost scared you. When was the last time you heard Snow laugh? An actual laugh, at that. None of his snorts of derision or half-hearted chuckles when he was trying to charm someone. Had you ever heard him laugh before? You tried to wrack your brain, but you could not recall anything. In school, he had always been so serious—focused more on using the tools available to him to climb the social ladder rather than being a kid like everyone else. Though, you supposed, Snow was a far cry from everyone else. 
The music began to play, and Snow spun you around the dance floor. As you turned, you locked eyes with Sejanus. He wore a large grin on his face, seemingly sure that you and Snow were making nice. Why else would he have laughed at something you said? You wished you could yell out to Sejanus, tell him that he was dead wrong. 
“What is it that people say? Something about love driving people mad?”
This time, you did roll your eyes. “Oh, come off it. You and I both know perfectly well that you do not care for me. I hardly understand why you’re even entertaining this nonsense, if for no other reason than to torture me.”
Snow considered you. After a long moment of silence, he said, “I seek a bride who will produce me an heir. There are few women here who meet my standards. A woman of good breeding, from a respectable family, and intelligent enough to keep up with me. Someone who will be a good Queen and a good mother.”
“Someone that you can control.” You scoff. “You truly must see a physician, Your Majesty, if you think that I will fall in line with whatever you ask of me.”
His lips curled into a grin. Your stomach churned. “Not yet.”
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The next morning, your mother promptly reported that you had danced with Coriolanus Snow not once, not twice, but three times to your father. To say he had been pleased was something of an understatement. He was certain that Snow would soon be reaching out to discuss a proposal. It did not matter how much you tried to downplay the situation—explain that he was only dancing with you for some other reason than him wishing to marry you. Your parents minds were made up. By the end of the season, you were to be Queen of Panem. 
“It’s just the nerves,” your mother dismissed as you sat in the drawing room, waiting for any suitor to call on you. “You will be more than confident once you are wed.”
You ground your teeth together. “I do not wish to marry Coriolanus Snow. I would marry anyone else. I would let you or Papa pick anyone else in the ton and I would not let out a single complaint. I cannot marry that man.”
Something just beyond you caught your mother’s attention. Your father, you supposed. “You should not say such things—” she began to say. Of course. Of course she would say that. 
“Why not? It is true. I would be miserable with him. I would rather die than be his bride, bear his children. Frankly, forcing me to marry him may as well be a death sentence.”
“Dear, you do not truly mean that—”
“And you must not know me at all if you think I am not being completely, and utterly, truthful right now. Coriolanus Snow is the last man I would ever wish to marry.”
Your mother leaned in close to you, hissing, “Stop talking right now, young lady.”
A frown settled on your face. Why was she so bothered about you speaking so freely? There was no one in the room but you, her, and a maid. Perhaps she was concerned about the maid spreading gossip with other maids and that slowly enveloping the ton. It wasn’t a non-possibility, to be sure. But why was she acting so…scandalized by your words? 
Unless…
You turned your head toward the entrance of the room. There should Coriolanus Snow, dressed in a dark red suit, holding a bouquet of white roses. Your mouth went dry. Oh, why does he keep showing up when you least expect it? “The butler typically announces when a guest has arrived,” you said. 
You couldn’t read his face. A part of you wondered if you had offended him. You didn’t particularly care about offending him, but you also knew that such an act could have dire consequences on you marrying anyone else. “He was going to, but I wanted my arrival to be a surprise.” He took a step closer to you, holding out the roses. “I just had these freshly picked from my garden.”
A part of you wanted to smack the roses out of his hands, but you had already embarrassed your mother enough in front of Snow. You took the roses, yet couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “I cannot believe a man like you could grow something so beautiful.”
Your mother let out a loud—obviously fake—laugh. “Oh, isn’t she just funny? She always says the silliest things.”
Snow chuckled. He smiled at your mother—the sort of smile that your stomach twist into knots. Like he knew something no one else did, and he was reveling in that. “It is one of her more…charming traits.” He turned his attention back to you. “As lovely as this is, I came to ask if you would like to promenade with me in the square.”
Oh, Snow. Why was he so good at backing you into corners? You took a breath and passed the bouquet to the maid so she could put them in a vase. “That would be nothing short of a delight.”
He held out his arm for you to take. You slipped your hand around his bicep, your nails digging in. If he felt any pain, he didn’t show it. Instead, he leaned down so that you could only hear him whisper, “It seems like you fall in line much easier than you would like to believe.”
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fangirl-dot-com · 6 months
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Chapter 8 - May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor
Guys, Max was never going to be her dad (that’s gonna be reserved for Christian lol). Everyone on the grid will be a brother figure, unless stated otherwise – like Fernando is leaning towards the wise grandpa rule and Lewis will be the cool dad (I have a funny story line to go with this idea). All that to say, Max and Kelly will look after her when she needs it most. I also switched the titles. On with the show, and don’t forget to comment if you want to be added to the tag list and or if it’s somehow not tagging you! Much love &lt;3  
Well, to Max’s dismay and according to google, you cannot adopt your 20 year old teammate that he had met hours earlier.. He had called Kelly early Thursday morning to whine. The more sensible part of his brain also knew that Christian wouldn’t let that happen either. And Kelly had to quickly remind him that he could still watch out for her. 
Max seemed to finally agree at the thought of being one of the protective adults in her life. He knew that you had your manager, who you seemed to trust. But, that didn’t help much when you spoke of how lonely you were. He was going to make it his mission to get you to move to Monaco, where he could keep an eye on you. 
“Maybe Christian could adopt her,” he muttered, staring angrily at his coffee. What that cup did to offend him, he didn’t know. But what he did know, was that he’d see you again later that night. Another festival for him to attend to. He only wished that Formula 1 went back to racing, and not putting on shows that had a strict attendance policy. 
At least you would be there. There was a change in the schedule so that you could be with him, Checo, Daniel, and Yuki on whatever thing they were being put on for the night. The buzzing of his phone ended his staring contest with his cup. 
It was a text from you. 
Little Racer : 
max, i need your help 
what are you wearing tonight??? 
i have an idea, and I think it’s stupid but i want to do it 
Big Racer : 
If it’s you, I don’t think it’ll be stupid. 
Probably what I always wear. Jeans and whatever Red Bull top they give me. 
Little Racer : 
that’s so grandpa core of you maxie 
and what is this all proper grammar for texting lollll 
you are not beating the allegations you millennial 
Max’s brows furrowed. He was not a grandpa or a millennial. He just liked to use the normal setting on his phone with proper capitalization and end marks. He would just have to ask Charles or Lando to see if they agreed with you. They wouldn’t though…would they? Your next message had him actually dying. 
Little Racer : 
do you think that Christian will be mad if i come dressed like elvis?
he said i could but i don’t know… 
Big Racer : 
You wouldn’t dare. 
Little Racer : 
oh boy ladies and gents, he doesn’t know 
*looks into the camera like an episode on the office* 
Big Racer : 
Did you seriously type all of that? 
Don’t answer. 
20 bucks says you won’t. 
The three little dots danced on his screen as he waited for you to respond. 
Little Racer : 
just you wait maxie, just you wait 
You didn’t text him anything after that. Max could only call Christian to understand what just happened. He picked up after three rings. 
“Hello, Max.” 
“Hi Christian. First off, happy birthday.” 
“Thank you son. But I know you didn’t just call me to wish me a happy birthday. You could have told me that later tonight.” In the background, it sounded like a coffee machine was running. Max hoped he didn’t wake him up. 
“Well, Y/n just texted me about wearing, uh.” Max didn’t want to say it out loud, because now it sounded stupid. 
“An Elvis costume? Max, the kid called me last night to ask. Said she didn’t want to ruin an image for us if she showed up like that. But I told her that it would be fantastic idea. Poor kid sounded scared.” 
Max let out a low hum. He didn’t like the sound of that. You were in no position to worry about such a thing. If anyone was to ruin Red Bull’s image, it would be him. He had no filter and Christian often had to tell him to reign in his thoughts. 
Max spoke, “I think I’m going to see about her moving to Monaco. She mentioned she has a flat in Nice, but that’s far away from Milton Keynes, and not close enough to anyone. Christian, she has no one.” 
It took a while for Christian to reply. Max could just imagine the older man running his hand along his forehead. It was hard to think of someone so young to be so alone. 
“Yeah, I think that would be best for her. I’ll make sure she can afford it. Hell, it could even be a property that we buy just for her to stay in when we have breaks.” 
Max listened and nodded his head along. Now it would only be to convince you to move. But suddenly, he remembered his previous conversation with you. He smacked his hand on his head. 
“Is everything alright Max?” the Brit on the phone questioned. 
“I just lost 20 bucks.” 
You however, had no idea that this conversation was happening. All you knew was that you had the go ahead from Christian to wear your beloved Elvis costume. Would you make a fool of yourself? Maybe. 
But who cares. It’s Vegas. To your chagrin, Vito had told you that there would be no walk out, but there would be dramatic paddock entrances. He still promised that you would get your song. That’s all that mattered to you. 
While you waited for the night to begin, you roamed the hotel. Because you were bored, you actually did a lot. 
You started off with breakfast. You were sad that they didn’t have the machines that made Texas-shaped waffles, because that was only in Texas, but the pancakes would do. And because you’re trainer would kill you for not eating well, you took it upon yourself to have a yogurt with some fruit as a side. 
After letting the food settle, you went to the gym for that daily grind. It had been a while since you had been able to work out, but you needed to get back on track. You would be racing tomorrow and you needed to be at your best. You lifted some weights first, starting with the smaller ones as warm ups before you got to the bigger ones. The stretch bands were very useful as you squatted the weights. 
After you were done, you hopped on the treadmill. By using the lower speeds, you were able to practice your runway walk, as if you would ever be a model. But the speeds increased and you found yourself in a full sprint by the end of the run. Five miles wasn’t bad, and you knew you could have gone farther, but you wanted to take a quick dip in the pool before getting ready. 
The water was a nice cool down for your overheated skin. Running was not your first choice of exercise. You’d rather run out of money, than run in real life. It didn’t make sense, but it did. The chlorine in the water was making your hair gross, so you decided to get out so that you could take a shower. 
Like the kid you were, you had your outfit laid out the night before, as if you were going on a fieldtrip. 
You allowed to take your time in the shower. It wasn’t every day that you made your F1 debut. That had your bones chilled. Your Formula 1 debut. You. Putting your head under the stream, you rinsed out the hair mask that you put on. There would be no nervousness. You were born for this. 
The thought of Max’s texts earlier made you giggle. You were glad that he was so welcoming. You would be much more nervous if you had met the infamous Mad Max. But this was more cat-dad Max. Kind Max. 
You only hope that you won’t screw things up. 
You turned on your playlist as you started to actually get ready. You ordered room service so that you didn’t have to go somewhere to eat. The food was amazing, well, as amazing as hotel food could get. You curled your hair as the remnants of your skin care routine dried. You mumbled the words to a song as you stuck a French fry in your mouth.
Once your moisturizer and various oils and toners dried, you started on your more pronounced makeup look. You knew you were going to be photographed throughout the night, and you needed to look good. Looking at the window, you noticed that the sun was setting. That meant that it was time for you to get dressed, and Vito would be there to pick you up shortly. 
Your outfit consisted of a sparkly white crop top and some white pants. A red scarf topped the outfit off. 
You would be arriving right behind Max and in front of Checo. You were excited to see the two men again. Moreso, you were excited to earn 20 bucks. With sunglasses on your nose, you were ready to hit the Sin City. 
Vito could hardly contain his laughter when you got in the car. 
You raised an eyebrow, “What?” 
He shook his head as to somehow rid himself of his laughter. “Nothing kid.” 
“Well Christian said I could wear it. I’ll blend right in. And besides, I’m almost immediately changing into my race suit.” 
He nodded his head at your reasoning. You had pulled off crazier things before, so he didn’t know why he was surprised. Maybe it was because he thought that you might not want to in F1. But, on the inside he was happy that you weren’t losing your child-like nature. He never wanted to see that seeming innocence to leave. He knew that you weren’t totally innocent, but he never wanted to see you hurt to an extent that you quit being happy. That was his favorite thing about you. You seemed to care about what others thought of you, but you knew how to make yourself happy. And if wearing an Elvis costume to the paddock would make you happy, then he would protect your decision. 
You could see the flashing lights even before you got out of the car. American paparazzi were on another level. You knew that Red Bull were one of the last ones to show up, and that freaked you out. Almost every single driver was already on the other side of gate. Your nerves settled when you saw Max get out, and you wanted to follow him. But, you realized that this was what you were waiting for. 
The familiar sounds of 33 Max Verstappen (the original one) could be heard through the car doors. Max’s face morphed into one of almost disgust. You let out a giant laugh and rolled down your window before you knew what you were doing. 
“Max, I love the music. Very Mad Max-esque.” 
He quickly flipped you a loving middle finger as he scanned his card to be let into the paddock. Multiple Elvis impersonators gathered around him for a picture. You hadn’t noticed, however, that the moment you rolled your window down, all of the cameras and photographers were now pointed at you. 
You buzzed with energy when you heard Life is a Highway start to fill the air. 
On the other side of the paddock, Max had stopped to talk to Lando, Oscar, Carlos, and Charles. He also was waiting for you so that you could walk with him to the Red Bull hospitality. He glanced over to see if you were out of the car at least. 
“Nice entrance mate,” Lando clapped him on the shoulder. He rolled his eyes. He’s sure that you roped Christian in to play the song. 
“Well what did they play for you?” 
Lando deflated and muttered, “Let’s go Lando.” Carlos and Charles, along with Max, laughed at his demise. 
Charles suddenly looked over Max’s shoulder. At that moment, Carlos spoke up. 
“I didn’t know Checo was a Cars fan.” The drums and guitar seemed to be turned up to the highest setting. What. An. Entrance. 
Max had a glimmer in his eyes, “He’s not.” 
And suddenly, there you were. In your Elvis costume. And you were loving it. You waved at all the people around you, quickly becoming a crowd favorite. 
From his right, Charles hums and Lando’s jaw is dropped. 
“That’s the new rookie, correct?” Suddenly, George was with them, along with Alex. 
Max only chuckled. “Yep.” He popped the “p.” 
Charles spoke up, “She’s nice. I met her at Arthur’s birthday party, but didn’t speak to her much.” 
“You all will love her. Trust me,” Max said, eyes widened as you got crowded with the other Elvises. You smile could outshine a thousand suns. 
Your eyes quickly met his and you gave him a giant wave. He beckoned you to come over. You flashed a nervous look before it melted away, replaced with bravery. If there was a time to meet some of the grid, you really hadn’t wanted to be dressed as Elvis. 
Your steps were quick and you made it over in no time. Now, most drivers are tall, but look short next to George, being the giraffe that he is. However, you were another thing. 
You’d definitely be taller than Yuki by a couple of inches. But you stood closer to five-foot-six (167.64 cm.), almost 5 inches shorter than Max, and four inches shorter than the rest. 
You gave a shy wave as you spoke, “Hi, I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” You suddenly remembered something. You turned to Max and held out your hand. 
The boys’ eyes widened as Max fished out his wallet and placed a bill in your outstretched hand. 
“Pleasure doing business with you sir.” You mocked a salute. 
Lando tsk-ed, “What did our Max loose a bet on?” 
“He said I wouldn’t come dressed like this. Little did he know, I’ve had this in my closet for years.” Lando couldn’t help but laugh at your revelation, and neither could Carlos and Charles. 
“Yeah, kid, you should have told me that Christian already gave you the go ahead.” 
“And where’s the fun in that?” You had a shit-eating smirk on your face. Lando was the first one to speak up. 
“How old are you? Max over here keeps calling you kid.” 
“I’m twenty.” 
It was an amazing recreation of that one tik-tok trend. I’m twenty, insert looks of disgust, uhg. Your heart dropped at their reactions. 
It was Carlos who surprised you. He quickly patted your head, “Aw, just a baby.” 
You looked at him in awestruck. You leaned over to Max and all but whispered, “Max?” 
“Yes kid?” he said in full voice. 
“He’s older than you right?” 
“Yes.” 
“Can I do the thing?” Max looked Carlos up and down before smiling. 
“Go right ahead.” The smile that you had was wiped off your face. You squared your shoulders and held out your hand. Carlos took it with a confused look. You gave him a firm handshake. 
“Thank you Mr. Sainz.” You swear he did a full body cringe. He was about to say something, but Christian had waved the two of you over, yelling something about time to get ready. 
You flashed a smile at the small group, “It was nice meeting you!” You all but bounced away as Max calmly walked by your side. 
“Did she just?” Lando looked to Carlos, who was frozen in his spot. He looked like someone had just told him that his car had blown up on the way here. 
He looked at his hands. “Mr.,” he gulped, “Sainz?” 
Oscar finally piped up. “Well, you are old.” Carlos looked close to a breakdown. 
Charles put a hand on his shoulder as he watched you and Max walk on the ramp. Max’s face was now stone-cold, yet yours still radiated so much warmth. “Come on mate. We got to go.” 
As they walked away, Carlos questioned, “I’m not old, am I?’ Charles could not, would not, should not, give him an answer. 
Lando and Oscar just looked at each other and then back at the disappearing duos. Laughter filled the air as they also began to walk to their respective hospitalities.
As you and Max got closer to the garage, you got a little quieter. 
“I don’t think they liked me very much. I knew the costume would be a bad idea.” The look of dejection was all over your face. Max looked over at you and huffed. 
“Kid, they just don’t know you yet. They’re also stressed about this race. No driver liked to drive on a track that was built in a month.” 
“You’re right.” 
“Kid, I’m always right.” You hit his shoulder. 
Christian was quick to get you, Checo, and Max all together for a couple of pictures. Since it was Christian’s birthday, there was cake and everything for a small celebration. After, the three of you were told to get into the racing suits for the opening celebration. 
You were with Mitch while you did so. 
“You’re telling me. That Kurt Cobain is going to perform. And I’m going to miss it! With John Legend!” Your eyes were wide as you zipped the suit up. 
“For the last time kid, you can meet them after.” You pouted as you tied your shoes. 
“Fine. But let me say, this is very Hunger Games of them. So Americanesque.” Mitch just let you talk. 
After you were ready, minus the helmet and all that, Mitch led you to the glass box. You turned to look at her. 
“Promise me that you’re not going to be dragged away to your death. This is so Katniss Everdeen coded and I cannot lose you like she lost Cinna.” Mitch was going to tell you off for worrying too much, but she could see through your eyes that you were trying to actually tell her that you were scared of the whole thing. No wonder you were rambling, you were just nervous. 
Mitch brought you into a hug and squeezed. You practically melted as you squeezed her back. Over your shoulder, Max was looking at the whole ordeal. He’ll give you a hug right before they went up. He knew how scary this world was. 
Mitch was given the signal that everything was about to start. You climbed into the box and some official closed the door. 
Mitch looked up at you, “May the odds be ever in your favor.” Your jaw dropped in appall as you were slowly being lifted. So she did know the movie! 
Max put a comforting hand on your shoulder as your face was suddenly hit with a breeze. All around you, people were cheering and lights were flashing. You suddenly wished you had brought your sunglasses with you. 
Max scoffed as he raised his hand to wave. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“This isn’t racing. We’re standing here, being observed, like a bunch of clowns.” 
“At least this won’t last long. We’ll be in the car soon Max.” You were right. If it meant anything, he would be back in the car soon, in his element. 
A beep let you three know that the machine would be going down in the next few moments. When the machine jolted down, you quickly stood up straight, hand behind your back, and put three fingers to your mouth. Your lips kissed your fingertips before you held the three fingers up. 
It was still loud as you did it, but the crowd died down as they watched you and mirrored your display. You watched in awe at the raised hands. 
The three of you lost sight of the crowds as the box was now back where it started. Max looked at you in bewilderment. 
“What was that?” 
You let out a large gasp. “You’ve never seen the Hunger Games?” You must have been loud because someone else gasped as well. Looking over, you were met with the sight of blond hair and striking blue eyes. 
“Max, you’ve never seen the Hunger Games?” Logan stomped over. 
“Dude I know. So not girl boss of him.” Max looked at the two of you in confusion. Girl? Boss? 
You and Logan were quickly swept into a conversation about American tendencies while Max just stood in between the both of you, looking like he’s in the middle of a midlife crisis. You and Logan were only pulled away when you needed to get into the car for free practice. 
As you left, you turned around and faced Logan, giving him a look of faux sympathy. “May the odds be ever in your favor.” 
“At least you didn’t volunteer,” Logan laughed as he turned away. 
 Max was still in the middle of his midlife crisis when Christian came to tell everyone that it was time to head to the garage. 
You felt your heart rate picking up as you got closer to the garage. You took a deep breath and exhaled. 
It was show time. 
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grison-in-space · 8 months
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Currently rereading Eric Flint's 1632 and reflecting on just how influential Flint was to me and my approach to both praxis and politics as a teenager. I found Flint when I was about thirteen or fourteen, around the time I found Pratchett I think, and he's left an equally wide thumbprint on my soul. Isn't that the most wonderful thing about stories, that people you've never met can help shape our adult selves? Mother of Demons I often recommend for its SFF worldbuilding--Flint built a species with at least four genders, only some of which are reproductive, and associated "normal" sexual orientations, and then proceeded to write in a textually intersex character and queer the hell out of it.
1632, though, is the one where a little West Virginia town in 2000 gets picked up and dropped in the middle of Thuringia, Germany in the eponymous year--right in the middle of the Thirty Years War. The local United Mine Workers of America chapter plays a major role, particularly its head.
As I write this I'm listening to the scene where the little town of Grantville, having admitted after a few days that they are probably not ever going home, is crowded into the high school gymnasium listening to the mayor lay that reality out and suggesting an interim council to help the town set out a sort of constitutional convention so they can work out what on earth they're going to do moving forward--especially since there's a bunch of displaced refugees collecting in the forests nearby. Sensible of them, really; the Americans murdered the shit out of the local soldiers that displaced them, on account of how the shaken mine workers that went out to figure out WTF happened not being super down with suddenly running into a bunch of fuckheads raping the locals and torturing people to find out where their valuables might be. After that, said Americans proceeded to retreat into the town boundaries and gibber quietly to themselves. I would go lurk in their woods, too.
Anyway, the mayor sets up this proposal, everyone agrees, and a CEO who was visiting for his son's wedding at the time steps forward and says: look. I know how to lead, and I'm probably the most qualified person here. I lead a major industry corporation effectively and I did that after my time as a Navy officer. I put myself forward because I'm qualified. Now, we're going to need to circle the wagons to get through the winter, tighten our belts, but we can get through this. We can't support all these refugees, though; we'll have to seal the border so they can't bring disease--they're a drain on our resources we can't afford--
and the UMWA guy, he gets really mad listening to this. There's this Sephardic refugee woman he's real taken with who got swept up in the town first thing, and she's sitting in and listening; he's thinking about throwing her out, thinking about how much she knows about the place they're found in, and he's furious. But he gets a good grip on his anger and he marches up and he says, look. This dude has been here two days and he's already talking about downsizing?! You're going to listen to this CEO talking about cuts, cuts, cuts? Nah. Trying to circle the wagons is probably impossible, it's stupid, and if you think my men and I are going to enforce that, you can fuck off. That proposal is inside out and bass ackwards. We've got about a six mile diameter of Grantville here; how much food do YOU think we're going to grow? How about the soldiers wandering around, do you think we're going to be able to fight armies off on our lonesome? Look at the few refugees we already have in the room, they'll tell you how those armies will treat you! We could do it for a while, the amount of gun nuts here, but so what? We don't have enough people to shoot them! Not if we're going to do anything else to keep us going! We have about six months of stockpiled coal to keep going, and without another source or getting the coal mines working, we're screwed. We have technical strength but we don't have the supplies or resources we would need to maintain it. Those refugees? They're resources. We need people to do the work we will need to keep ourselves. The hell with downsizing; let's grow outwards! Bring people in, give them safety, see what they can bring to the table once they've had a moment! He invokes: send us your tired, your poor!, and the CEO yells in frustration: this isn't America! so he yells back "it will be!"
And of course everyone cheers. I love Flint for many reasons but he is unapologetic about affection for the America of ideals--ideals, he freely admits, that are often honored in the breach rather than the observance, ideals that are messy and flawed, but nevertheless ideals that can work to inspire us to become the best version of ourselves. For Flint, history is as valuable as a source of stories to inspire ourselves as it is a repository of knowledge, and on this I tend to agree with him. We must learn from our moments of shame but equally we must learn from moments that show us how to be our best selves.
It's been twenty three years and the text is now an interesting historical document in its own right, hitting points and rhythms in beats that are sometimes out of place today. It's not perfect. But the novel contains a commitment to joy and to emphasizing the leaps of faith and understanding that regular, everyday people make every day to try and support each other that I routinely try to match in my writing.
Anyway, one of the strengths of the novel, I think, is its gender politics: it's a very ensemble kind of novel, lots of characters, and it's preoccupied with positive masculinity in a lot of ways. There's a lot of these hyper masculine characters--Mike Stearns perhaps more than anyone else--and--and...
... And Flint's characterization of Stearns, as he sketches out who the man is--his pivotal American leader, ex boxer, working class organizer, big man.... well, it lands equally on "he is delighted and astonished to find a local woman who quickly assesses how the cushion of air in tires works," and "he considers who to set up a Jewish refugee in the middle of Germany up with and he thinks to ask the Jewish family he grew up with to host her and her ill father because he thinks she'll be most comfortable there", and "he views people as potential assets rather than potential drains." A younger man asks him for advice on whether to pursue a professional sports career because of the boxing and he says no, you're in the worst place of not being quite good enough and you'll blow out your knees without accomplishing safety. He frames that interaction such that he allows his own experiences to make him vulnerable and invite the younger man to understand when a struggle have worth it.
It's actually a really deft portrayal of intense masculinity that also makes a virtue of a bunch of traits more usually associated with women: empathy, relational sensitivity, the ability to listen. As a blueprint for what a positive masculinity can look like, vs the toxic kind, it's very well done. I think sometimes when we look at gender roles in terms of virtues, and when masculinity is defined in terms of opposition to femininity, people get lost by arguing that virtues assigned to one gender are somehow antithetical to another gender. In fact that's never been the case: virtues are wholly neutral and can appear in any gender. What the gender does is inflect the ways we expect that virtue to appear in terms of individuals' actions within their society.
Gender isn't purely an individual trait, basically; it's a product of our collective associations. Two characters with different genders can display the same virtues and strengths, but we imagine them expressed in different ways according to our cultural expectations around gender. And I just think that's neat.
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verdantcrimson · 11 days
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Kanna Natsu Idol Story - 1
Written by: Akira
Season: Spring
TL: verdantcrimson
Proofread: @revuestarlight
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[Two years since ES was established. In a corridor of an ES building leading to the Starpro office]
Kanna: Thank you very much for helping me, Miss Anzu.
Kanna: As you can see, I am a child, so escaping from a situation where I am surrounded by a crowd of adults is difficult.
Kanna: Though, if I had used my head, I think I might have been able to escape, call for help, and have my pursuers apprehended.
Kanna: But using my brain on those people is a total hassle.
Kanna: A complete, and total, hassle.
Kanna: … Yes? No, I’m not lost. 
Kanna: So you’re the type of person that judges people based on their appearance, right.
Kanna: No, I’m not criticizing you. Just categorizing.
Kanna: I find talking to other people to be a hassle.
Kanna: Ideally, I would like to be able to have a conversation by categorizing people as much as I can, and then only using a fixed set of phrases that correspond to that category.
Kanna: I want to have conversations using only a set of standardized phrases, like: “For sure”, “Maybe”, “That’s nice”, and the like.
Kanna: A computer could do that. It could handle things with just some numbers and a program.
Kanna: Why can’t the same method of operation work for humans?
Kanna: Ah, It’s okay. I wasn’t actually looking for an answer from you. It was just a question I asked myself, and presented.
Kanna: Please don’t worry. I will think for myself and find the answers to all of my questions.
Kanna: Yes. I have no expectations of you, or anyone else.
Kanna: Now, if you would excuse me. And really, thank you very much for helping me out just now.
Kanna: … Hm. Yes, what is it?
Kanna: Quite the annoyance you—
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Kanna: Aren’t. Yes, yes, how can I help you?
Kanna: Yes. No, I’m affiliated with ES.
Kanna: I’m Kanna Natsu, and I’ve recently begun working as an idol here.
Kanna: Yes. People say that I’m like a stray cat that can’t quite get used to humans. It means I am ‘Natsu Kanna-ected’ with and don’t miss other people. Quite interesting, right?
Kanna: Would it be better if I had laughed? But that would be a hassle.
Kanna: I think my life would be much easier if I at least learned to smile politely, but that really is such a hassle.
Kanna: Yes. Ah, you know about me? I thought so too.
Kanna: I have long since concluded that I am like an exotic creature that has a tendency to make the headlines of newspapers and magazines.
Kanna: The people pursuing me earlier were magazine reporters that have been following me around recently.
Kanna: The entertainment industry is a world where you could throw a stone into the crowd and hit a genius, quite literally, so I didn’t see the need to bring it up.
Kanna: When humans see something behaving oddly, it’s surprising and interesting to them, it seems.
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Kanna: That sort of sensibility, I envy it.
Kanna: Ah, I wasn’t being sarcastic. I honestly envy it. It’s quite tedious to have to add a note clarifying my intent at the end of each and every sentence.
Kanna: Hm. Eh? You’re asking me if I’m a celebrity…?
Kanna: So you only knew who I was because of me being a new idol, Miss Anzu? You remember seeing my name and face on the roster?
Kanna: I get it. Yes, I see you are that kind of person. I understand now.
Kanna: So. It seems I have overestimated my importance.
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Kanna: That’s right. There are people who don’t know who I am. Heh.
Kanna: Ah, that was my first laugh in fifteen days. Tomorrow, my facial muscles are going to be sore.
Kanna: Thank you very much. I was able to have a rare experience.
Kanna: …Hm? Yes, anything else?
Kanna: I am an ES-affiliated idol, so you should know that it isn’t out of the ordinary for me to be walking around here.
Kanna: Do you not understand this? It would be a hassle if you didn’t.
Kanna: Hm. So you thought that there might still be reporters remaining around the area? You thought to call for security, just in case?
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Kanna: ……
Kanna: “A kind and gentle person”, “A respectable member of society”, “A very noble, goddess-like person”.
Kanna: Of these three, which do you prefer?
Kanna: I would like to present you with an evaluation. Because I appreciate your concern, and your words are commendable.
Kanna: However. I am inexperienced at communicating with people, so I don’t know which words would be most touching.
Kanna: That is why, I would like you to pick what words I should give you.
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Kanna: That is all. ...Is that wrong of me to do?
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starberry-cupcake · 1 month
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I could have just gone ahead and finished the book, but I adult life is interrupting so I stopped mid-fight and that's what you're getting, since I think it'll be a more sensible length this way.
previously, in gideon the ninth
this happened (also, this is the tag for all of the stuff)
currently, somewhere before ending the penultimate chapter, I think:
WELL, WELL, WELL
GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT ABOUT DULCINEA DEL TOBOSO SORAYA MONTENEGRO SEPTIMUS
I GOT YOU, BITCH
YOU DIDN'T GET PAST ME
ok, let's back it up a bit, but I needed to get that out of my chest for a sec
out of my guts, like the key she hid in the 5th necro bride's body
(too soon)
anyway, after yandere simulator w/inner chad left the room, gideon, harrowbean and my qp wife realized palmolive was gone
and everyone knows where he went because his dick has been a compass the whole time
or, like gideon puts it, he's been a weenie
camilla, the light in the dark, the sun to my moon, tells gideon and harrow that palmolive has been corresponding with dulcinea since he was like 8 and she was like 15 and he's been in love with her the whole time
and that he's made his lifelong purpose to save her life
there are many levels of Issues here
but at this point, we don't have time to unpack any suitcases
all this just proves to me that camilla has been carrying all the weight of the world on her shoulders even more, but anyway
they also feel confused as to why dulcinea has been ghosting palmolive massively since HE PROPOSED TO HER
palmolive, my man, my dude, just...what the fuck is your life
what are you doing, my guy
anyway, I immediately started thinking some soul possessing or some stuff like that could be going on, like she's not herself, but there's no time to theorize much
gideon feels terrible because she's been flirting with dulcinea in front of palmolive's salad all along and says something like "why do I have to be so attractive?" to which harrow answers something like "if you weren't, people would deck you after 5 minutes" which is a very good read
so gideon goes to find palmolive and he stops her with necro magic and enters dulcinea's room and outs her as the murderer
who is surprised??? not me, of course
so, basically, ducinea The Real One died at some point before arriving like protozoa, and this bitch here is a previous lyctor whose name I cannot remember so we will call her not!dulcinea
the real dulcinea was the other roasted body in the furnace
and protozoa was killed by her also which, again, the sword through the heart was a good indicator it wasn't an accident, but harrow was the only one who saw the body
non!dulcinea is a lyctor of the seventh that served the emperor and did the soul slurping thingy and already has her cav within her ("inside her" sounds...not great)
and she wanted to stir some shit up to get the man of the hour to show up and get revenge and whatnot
the emperor, coming back to canaan house from some holidays that took longer than he expected
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it's not totally clear, because there's still a lot we don't know, but it sounds a bit like a toxic relationship with an authority figure
palmolive then proceeds to immolate himself like superman going super solar flare, but not being able to heal himself after, unlike superman
after that, all hell breaks loose
not!dulcinea tries to kill gideon
camilla tries to kill not!dulcinea
harrow also enters the fight and brings gideon's sword
like, the real one
you can hear the audience cheering when she catches her sword like it was filmed in front of a live studio audience
gideon and harrow team up against the mega massive monster junji ito concoction that killed isaac
they do the mind mesh thingy
harrow unlocks a new power
like in the sims
she also passes out for a bit
gideon gets her knee and shoulder fucked up
camilla is amazing and does amazing things
non!dulcinea seems to be too tough to win against
yandere simulator twin w/inner chad enters the chat
they fight like goku and vegeta for a while but non!dulcinea ends up using her like a battery
which is, to me, the revenge of duracell bunny nephew from beyond the veil or wherever he went
like, poetic cinema fate
I have no idea where regina george twin is at this point
last we saw of her, she was crying in a corner
which, mood tbh
so, where I left off for now, we've got three survivors accounted for: gideon, harrowbean and my qp wife, there's a lost twin somewhere in there and then there's yandere simulator twin being used as a charging pad by non!dulcinea
I want to take a moment to point out something, though
I want to briefly point out how MASSIVELY FUCKED UP EVERYONE WAS COMING INTO THIS
like, harrow was "oh no, we mustn't let people know you're not actually my cavalier and that I puppeteered my parents and that there's a frozen barbie in the ninth" and gideon was "oh no, I mustn't let people know I'm not a ninth cav and I don't use a rapier and I have a complicated relationship with my necro"
and everyone else LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE WAS BEYOND FUCKED UP
maybe the second weren't because they were ignorant asshats, but EVERYONE WAS MESSED UP
NOBODY HERE WAS FINE
you got the third, with a non necro princess and a feral real necro doing the work of both and chad as their support, look how that turned out so far
the fourth, who weren't tall enough to reach the top shelf and weren't even allowed their keys
the fifth who knew too much so they were goners after throwing a party
the sixth, with a guy who had the hots for a woman twice his age that he had a grey's anatomy fantasy to save that powered his entire reason to be there (and a cav who didn't use the right equipment but is great 10/10 no notes)
the seventh, who's THIS MESS
and the eight, who were doing the creepiest thing possible at all times and couldn't even do it properly
the only ones here who came in without dirty laundry were the second and that's why they were easy targets
everyone else was shady af
the best reality show you've ever watched
anyway, see you for the next one when we'll know who wins between one old lyctor and 3 bad bitches (or 4, if yandere twin is still alive, or 5 if regina george twin shows up again)
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Baby, it's cold outside
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 27
Prompt: Coffee shop/bookstore/tattoo studio AU
Rated: M
CW: Alcohol; Implied sex
Tags: Coffee shop owner Steve; Tattoo studio owner Eddie; Christmas fluff; Flirting; Sexual tension; Getting together
Notes: Continued from my December microfic, but can also stand alone
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Eddie swivels morosely in his desk chair, stretches until something in his lower back pops. He glances out the window and immediately regrets it. If anything, the snow has gotten worse, the dark street outside near invisible behind the curtain of flakes that's been falling for hours. 
The blizzard hit just in time for Christmas, grinding all air traffic and most of the roads to a standstill. Eddie called Wayne to break the news, groaning and grumbling all the way, only to be gruffly told off.
“Ain't nothing to be done about it, kiddo. You be safe and I'll see ya when it clears.” 
He was right, of course, the old shit. Eddie is a sensible adult who knows this. And so he holed up at the tattoo studio for some long overdue paperwork. A perfectly reasonable, adult thing to do on a lonely holiday.
Except it's boring as fuck and his back hurts and the cold is creeping in from outside and now he's feeling like a little boy who's had Christmas stolen by the fucking Grinch. 
To top things off, he isn't even sure he'll make it back to his apartment with how things are looking outside.
He's just resigning himself to a night on the foldout in his office when there's a sharp rap against the front door. Eddie almost falls out of his chair. 
“Jesus fuck-” he mutters, bridging the distance and fumbling to unlock the door. “What the hell are you doing?” 
Steve stomps inside, shaking off snow as he goes. Even though it isn't more than a few steps from his door to Eddie’s, he's positively covered in the stuff, hair weighed down and uncharacteristically droopy. Cradled against the chest of his cable-knit sweater is a tray. Eddie spots cookies and two mugs overflowing with copious amounts of whipped cream. 
He watches how Steve sets the tray down on the table in his waiting area and runs his hands through his hair to get the residue snowflakes out. It leaves him looking deliciously disheveled, all mussed-up strands, golden skin flushed pink from the cold. Eddie finds his mouth watering for reasons not exclusively related to the scents wafting off the tray.
Steve is looking at him, like he's waiting for an answer, and shit, he said something, didn't he?
“Sorry, what?” Eddie asks. 
“I said,” Steve shakes his head, but there's no malice behind it. “Dig in, it's not getting any warmer.” 
Eddie crumples down onto the couch, hides his face behind one of the mugs … and blinks in surprise.
“Alcohol?” 
“Grand Marnier,” Steve says, settling down beside him and taking the other mug. Eddie has no idea what the fuck that means. Somehow though, the way the words tumble off Steve’s tongue, low and rumbly and distinctly French, really does it for him, so he doesn't complain. 
“Cheers,” he says and clanks their mugs together before taking a tentative sip. A firework of flavors bursts across his tongue - bitter coffee and thick, sweet cream and something heady and boozy and orange-flavored? 
“Good?”
“So fucking good, dude!” 
Behind his own mug, Steve's mouth tugs into a smile. Eddie isn’t quite sure if the heady rush that floods him is entirely due to the coffee. 
*
“Soooo,” Eddie slurs. The boozy coffee is long gone, as is the second helping Steve got from his shop. He's brought the entire bottle of the fancy French, orangey stuff though, pretty little genius that he is. Eddie giggles and takes another swig. “How c’me you're even here, huh? No family to visit, no girls to kiss under mistletoes?” 
“Have you looked outside?” Steve snorts, swaying into his space to snatch the bottle back. God he is pretty - cheeks flushed from the alcohol, cookie crumbs at the corners of his mouth. All Eddie would need to do is twist his fingers into that preppy sweater of his, yank him closer. Lick them off. 
“-not exactly on visiting terms with my folks,” Steve is saying and Eddie jerks back to attention. “Or speaking terms. My best friend was gonna visit, but I think she'd end me if I so much as brought a mistletoe near her. Anyhow, she can't come, what with the blizzard and all…” 
“So what?” Eddie grins, tongue loosened by alcohol and sugar and the way the light brings out the gold in Steve’s hair and eyes. “You decided to drop by out of the goodness of your heart and save my holiday like some perfect little Christmas angel?” 
Steve blinks. Averts his eyes. Flushes a whole new shade of pink. It blooms on top of the blush that has settled over his nose and cheekbones, like a fresh layer of color on a painting. Eddie thinks of all the other parts of Steve’s body he'd like to paint like this.
“Whatever,” Steve mumbles, “Just thought we'd both feel less alone, if- … It's getting late, I'd better-” 
“Go?” Eddie catches the sleeve of his sweater just as he's about to stand. Steve falls back into the couch. “Where? You're not gonna trudge home through that weather, are you?” 
Steve licks his lips, pink and glossy. Eddie wonders if they still taste like coffee and cream and oranges. His fingers find the soft skin of Steve's wrist under the hem of the sweater. 
“Just stay. You're right, I don't feel like being alone tonight.” 
“Stop it,” Steve's eyes are impossibly bright in the low light. “Please, I … I'll put up with your teasing any other day of the year, but not today.” 
“Steve …” Eddie rumbles. The heartbeat under his fingers flutters. “Stay … and I'll show you how serious I am.” 
He leans in, breathes his next words against the shell of a pink ear. “If you wanna, I'll even call you angel again.” 
They do end up using the foldout, the cold quickly forgotten.
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All my holiday drabbles
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Does sebek inherit the long lifespan of a fae or does he just live longer than the average human? Like let’s say croc fae live for like 5000 years. Would sebek inherit that lifespan or would he only live for half of that? Did he inherit that long lifespan since he looks and acts his age?
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There has (so far) been no indications as to how the lifespan of a half fae/half human like Sebek compares to that of a full human or a full fairy. (So no indication whether he has a human's life expectancy or a much longer one.) However, Silver and Sebek do appear to share many memories which indicate them aging similarly.
Note that even within fairies themselves, there is a large variance in lifespan based on the type of fae one is. Many fan works like to interpret Sebek with a longer life span, as this plays well into angst pieces (usually where Silver grows old and everyone else in Diasomnia shares a good cry about it). We'll have to wait to see how (if at all) TWST decides to present that bit of lore.
Personally, I don't think that Sebek's lifespan would be the average of human's and a fairy's. Why??? Just because that's not how it works with real world biology and genetics. (You could argue that TWST is a world with magic so real science doesn't apply, but the fact is that there is also a degree of logic to the "magic" of their world; why else would subjects like alchemy (ie magic chemistry) and techomancy (ie magical tech) exist?) Multiracial children don't have the averaged life expectancy of their parents. Maybe that's a poor example, but that's the closes thing I can think of since we don't really have anything super similar to fairies to compare to irl.
Lastly, I would hesitate to largely factor behavior into Sebek's lifespan; some characters are just... more immature than others due to other circumstances (like maybe a child has to take on more responsibilities at home due to their parent not being present, or maybe a child acts more impulsive because they feel a need to compete with their siblings). There are childish adults and sensible children. There are also cases where someone is both immature and mature, depending on the situation (looking at you, Malleus). Behavior doesn't always inherently speak to one's age.
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