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#give the poor entity a tag

coastxlwaters · 29 days

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We now have our beautiful and absolutely adorable little entity, Frank!

Don’t worry little bud, no matter with or without the mask I will love you and your adorable dropletness <3

Frank is obviously growing on me, just like Jack did, I also just found out Jack was adopted my puppet. Just a little fact I saw here on tumblr! Again, which one is better, also remember i I do not own these droplet characters, they all belong to Potatotato-26 themselves!

And I really don’t have the mental energy to deal with hate for my art style looking a lot like GalaxySugars, thank you for 5he other person on my last post FOR COMPLIMENTING IT INSTEAD- you don’t know how much that meant to me :D

#tsams forkface #sun and moon show #tsams #i’m procrastinating #sun and moon show forkface #there is no way frank does not have a tag #omg he doesn’t #give the poor entity a tag #ibispaintx #my art #which is better #again #yes I know #again for Potatotato-26 #I hate tags #tags are a pain #droplet au #droplets #tsams frank

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the1trueanon · 2 years

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Idea 1: Vanessa quits her job

This idea is based on my interpretation that the Vanessa we see in Security Breach isn't really her; it's Vanny controlling her. Vanessa's consciousness is there, but all that she can do is just watch, like viewing your own life through an old television.

So after the 3-star ending, Vanessa would be left with a job that requires skills that "she" technically never had. She can't just pull up Vannys memories (which i have her being able to do because extra pain :D) because there are no memories of how to do that job, a final "f*ck you :D" to Vanessa from Vanny before she left.

(I feel this needs a bit more of an explanation. Vanny had an instinctive knowledge of how to use any electronic device, courtesy of Glitchtrap/Afton. This meant that she never had to read any instructions for any of the surveilance equipment that she used on the job. She also never looked down at keyboards when she typed the passwords needed to access the security computers sinceVanny had all the passwords to herself. All this means is that when Vanessa looks back at these memories, they are effectively useless.)

So now all Vanessa has left are her own memories of watching herself push random buttons that do random things. It would be like trying to learn how to fly a plane solely by watching someone else do it.

Vanessa also realizes that she'd have to still assist lost children after hours, a thought that truly scares her. It's not because she doesn't like children, no. In fact, I believe Vanessa used to work really well with children due to her former position as a video game tester/coder. This might not make much sense, but is elaborated upon in idea 2.

It is also stated in the game in one of the logs that you can find that she was not recommended for a position as a security guard, so it just makes sense for her to leave afer being freed.

So she would put in her 2 weeks notice, but not before working out some special deal with the plex that allows her and Greg the gremlin of chaos to visit the pizzaplex whenever they want and for any length of time.

As for what job she would try to go back to? It would be her old job of beta testing and coding. She was evidently very good at it based on those cut AR emails. It might sound like tempting fate, but I think that Vanessa would be a heck of a lot more careful this time if she was put back on the VR project. That assumes that the project is still even active.

That way she can make sure that what happened to her, never happens to anyone again.

YES!!! THE RETURN OF GAMER GIRL NESSA!!!

I agree though, I don't think Vanessa would stay at the Plex for long after all of that. I think at this point, depending on how long she's been there under Afton's control, she might have some qualifications now, but definitely not enough to keep going as head of security.

I also just..... don't think it's a job she would actually like. I really feel like Vanessa was supposed to be a lot different, personality-wise. Especially when you think about how she is described (sort of) to act in the AR lore emails. A job as head security isn't just out of her work ability, it doesn't really fit her.

However, while I agree that Nessa would likely go back to game development/testing, I'm not so sure she'd be able to work on the VR project anymore. It's likely that it's out of beta -- Glitchtrap still stowed away, now in every copy -- and is out in the world. Both because it makes sense to me in the timelines between VR, AR, and Security Breach. I don't think Nessa quit testing on the VR game, I more feel that she completed it, either under Afton's control or of her own validation to keep Afton from taking over and doing anything worse (because we love that internal struggle of "do bad things or let the thing that could control you do worse" >:D), and then just never took on another game, instead being forced to take head security position at the Plex.

I do totally agree that she remembers what Vanny did :) Girl's gotta get her new dose of trauma from somewhere XD

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shinelikethunder · 1 year

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i've been going on archaeological expeditions into the depths of the SPN tags on AO3, and tonight i got drop-kicked into an out-of-body experience so cursed that it'd require LAYERS of explanations to convey to a civilian how fucking funny it was:

unfortunately, SPN fandom is as enamored of mundane AUs as every other goddamn fandom seems to be these days

noted gay angel Castiel is, as you may have heard, a celestial entity possessing some poor guy named Jimmy Novak

apparently standard practice when mundane-AUing Castiel is to just give him the surname of the guy he bodysnatched?

and since SPN angels are all referred to as siblings (and are, of course, highly normal about that) it seems pretty common to just slap the same name onto other humanverse'd angels too

in the middle seasons one of Castiel's endless procession of dickwad angelic bosses is named Naomi

now you gotta bear in mind that i was not thinking about ANY of this. my brain had to backfill it. while reeling after almost blacking out when i scrolled past this character tag:

me, sitting there with my soul about to vacate the premises, thinking this fic is doing something WAY more interestingly cursed than it really is: listen man. listen. just because it's possible to reductively summarize the origins of AO3 as "Naomi Novik wanted a site she knew would never take down her Wincest fic" doesn't mean you gotta--

#the plato's allegory of the cave version of the cw's supernatural #ao3

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the-kr8tor · 2 months

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What if R gift Blobie as a companion to Pirate! Hobie? (*/ω＼*) She rescued the lil guy/abomination from the water cause "poor cute thing can't swim just like her". It was a trick. Blobie came from water, he just wanna stay in R's sweet caring hands, except now he's stuck with her sassy pirate captain xDD They have love-hate relationship but unites when R is in danger/needs help with smth -🦊

Thank you for the lovely request, foxy!! Changed it up a bit, hope you don't mind 🫶

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, blob the symbiote cat AU, pirate AU, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“Hobie, look!” You raise the gooey cat shaped thing in front of him. Its little paws (or that's what you think it is) wiggles in your grasp, milky white eyes all round and happy.

The captain looks from the map, the sun making him squint, searing heat melting him and the sand in his pants making him uncomfortable. Good thing you're here on the godforsaken island that the map has brought the entire ship to its beach or he'll definitely be crankier than he already is.

With the sun behind you, a white halo of light around you, bathing you in its heavenly glow; he leans closer to see better, which the creature did not like at all. The little entity yowls, almost scratching him.

“Fuck!” He shouts, jumping away. “What is that?!”

“Bad Blobie! We don't scratch the captain.” You flip the cat-like creature in your grasp, scolding it. Blob's eyes blink slowly, head tilting, trying to decipher what you said. “that,” you flip him again to face Hobie, “is the captain, you don't—” it mewls angrily. “—hey! Listen, you don't scratch or bite the captain or anyone. Got it?”

Blobie lays limp in your hands, surrendering. Hobie watched on with a confused look, scratching the back of his neck. He loves how you're so patient with the creature but he is eternally confused as to where or how you got it. Especially that you only left him on his own for only five minutes. (he counted)

“Love,” he sees you carry it like a newborn baby. “Should you even be holding that? I don't think its a cat”

“Of course it's a cat! Look at his ears,” his ears droop slightly, a black mass in Hobie's eyes. “his fluffy tail” it swishes to the side, and he swears he saw it change shape for a second. “his cute little eyes and he meows! So Blob is definitely a cat!” you smile happily at Hobie. He's not convinced.

“Where'd you find it?”

“Right near the shore, under some rocks. He looked like he needed help and when I took a closer look, he was stuck under it so I helped.”

“That was very kind of you, scuttlebutt, but we can't keep him.” Hobie opens the map again, counting his steps on the heated sand.

“But he'll die here!” You follow closely. “And you said the ship has rats so he can help kill them. Come on, Hobie!”

“Finn is doing just fine handling those rats.��

You scoff, “are you sure about that? He was all moody yesterday, even grumbling to himself. Please?” blocking his path, you give him your best smile that you know always gets the all powerful pirate.

Blob purrs, clinging to your shirt.

Hobie huffs, “we don't need another mouth to feed, love, ‘sides, Yuri is allergic.”

“Oh…” he almost caves in with the sad look you have on your pretty face.

Sighing, he reaches towards you, bringing you closer to him without losing his place on the sand. Pressing his face closer to your temple, he kisses you gently, trying to get the pout off your lips.

“Sorry,” kiss, “we just don't have the space just yet. After we find this treasure and buy the second ship, we can come back for him, yeah?”

“He might be dead by then.” You look at him forlornly, “I'll take good care of him, promise. I'll give him my rations.”

“And let you starve—?” The ‘cat’ leaps off your arms, running quickly into the thicket.

“Blob! Wait!” You run after it, leaving Hobie in the dust.

“Y/N! Damn It” Taking a stick, he plops in into the sand to save his last position before running after you.

Dodging branches and jumping over rocks, your sudden scream lights his nerves. Breathing heavily, blunderbuss at the ready, he follows the guttering sound.

Hobie finds you kneeling on the jungle floor, frantically heading towards you, he holds you by the shoulders, checking for injuries.

“What–are you alright?” You don't respond, still looking behind him. “Love!” He shakes you, holding your face tenderly. And with that you grin widely. Raising his eyebrows, he follows your line of sight.

Blob digs rapidly, too fast for a cat or even a dog. His movements are almost blurred, sand and dirt flying everywhere; Revealing thousands of gold doubloons and jewelry.

Blob shakes himself clean, sitting down in front of you, tail curling around his legs, licking himself clean.

“Do you want to keep him now?” You say with a smile, hand tapping his cheek. “Hobie?”

“I think I love this bloke.” He exclaims, eyes wide at the shining treasure.

“More than me?” You joke, embracing his middle.

“Maybe.” He teases back, kissing your cheeks like a man starved.

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seiya-starsniper · 4 days

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Rating: Teen || Chapters: 2/5 || Word Count 3.5k/??

Summary: The Dead Boy Detectives run into a familiar pub while out on a case, and Crystal has to contend with an unfortunate event from her past.

AO3 Tags: POV Multiple, Hob Gadling gives live advice to a bunch of teenagers, while helping them solve cases, that's it that's the fic, also he maybe plays matchmaker for his hot mess bestie

Chapter 1

Read Chapter 2 below, or using the link above on AO3!

--------------

Hob Gadling considers himself to be a rather open minded man. He's lived hundreds of years, and seen thousands of strange and unusual things in that same amount of time, so the chances of something catching him completely off guard are rather slim in the year 2024.

The last few days, however, have proven that there are still many, many things that can surprise him.

One of those things being one Charles Rowland, who is currently waving at Hob from the entryway of the New Inn.

Hob normally doesn't like to get involved in anything having to do with the supernatural, and especially not anything related to the type of work that Edwin and Charles do. He'd met them purely by chance after some asshole with delusions of grandeur had tried to frame him for a series of murders. He’d sent Edwin and Charles on a wild goose chase in a poor attempt to cover his own tracks.

Hob thought that once they caught the real murderer together and cleared things up, that would be the end of things. But then, Hob kept getting involved in their cases over the years, all of them entirely on accident. Eventually, somewhere between the fourth and fifth poltergeist, Hob decided he might as well figure out how to defend himself against supernatural entities, and maybe make himself useful for these poor boys too. They certainly needed all the help they could get.

Hob had been glad to hear that Edwin and Charles had recently gotten some sort of amnesty in exchange for continuing to help ghosts and other souls move on. It was good work, what these boys did. Hob has seen ghosts that haunted the same places for centuries finally be to pass on into the afterlife thanks to them. And now, they not only had permission to keep going, but had gotten more help to do it too.

The addition of Crystal to their little crew had been a surprise, and Jenny an even bigger surprise, though the latter seems less interested in solving cases, and more in making sure Crystal doesn't get herself killed in the process.

Still, Hob's only ever seen the teens all together in some sort of group, never alone, and he's definitely never seen Charles without Edwin. From the moment Hob had first met the two ghost boys, they’d always been a singular unit in his mind. And yet here Charles was, alone and looking strangely expectant while trying to appear casual as he waits for Hob to close out the tabs on the last remaining lunch hour patrons.

“Everything all right?” Hob asks when Charles approaches him once his last customer leaves.

“Of course!” Charles answers, his signature smile bright on display. “I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to say hello. And to thank you again for the assist the other day.”

As a ghost, Charles is technically always in the neighborhood, so Hob knows that that’s not all that there is to his visit. It also hasn't escaped Hob's notice that Charles specifically picked the one day Jenny wasn't working the kitchen this week to drop by the pub. He clearly doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s here.

But Hob knows by now how to deal with skittish teenagers. Even dead ones.

“Well I'm almost done here and then I'm gonna head upstairs for a cuppa,” Hob says. Mark’s going to be here soon to relieve me of duty. Happy to have some company if you have the time to spare for an old man.”

“Oh! Yeah sure, I'm not busy,” Charles says, and cute that he’s still trying to pretend that he hadn’t come here with a purpose, when his eagerness is so clearly written all over his face. “Don't need any food though, as you know.”

“Sure, sure,” Hob replies, waving his hand dismissively so Charles can head upstairs ahead of him. He's going to make a cup of tea for Charles anyways. The boy always seemed to love the steam that came out of the mugs, even though he’d never admit it out loud.

Mark comes in exactly at 2:00pm, and Hob chats with him for a few minutes, before he clocks out and heads upstairs to his flat above the pub. Charles is already waiting for him in the living room, and Hob immediately sets to the task of warming up some hot water in the kettle and grabbing some mugs for tea.

“So how are things at the agency?” Hob asks as he waits for the water to heat. “Busy as ever, or more so now that you’ve got yourselves a psychic?”

“Definitely busier,” Charles says. “Crystal’s been a massive help with our cases, we're solving them even faster than before.”

“Good,” Hob replies, just as the kettle clicks, letting him know the water is done. “I’m glad she’s using her powers for good nowadays,” he adds as he brings the two mugs over to the couch. Charles looks surprised by the extra mug, but accepts it without a word. Hob doesn’t expect him to drink any of the tea, of course, but as predicted, Charles seems to fall into a trance watching the steam rise out of the cup.

“Thanks for not giving her too much of a hard time,” Charles says when Hob sits down in the recliner across from him. “She’s been really down on herself lately for everything in her past.”

“I can only imagine,” Hob agrees. He knew a thing or two about wanting to reinvent oneself and burning away the past. He’s had hundreds of years to do so after all. In fact, it could even be argued that Crystal was far ahead of where Hob would’ve been had he been in her shoes. The girl he’d met a few nights ago was so different from the one he’d met a year ago in court that Hob would’ve thought she had a twin instead.

“Seems like you two get along well,” Hob notes after a brief silence has passed. Charles perks up immediately, taking the opening in the conversation.

“We do,” Charles replies, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “She’s amazing.”

“Yeah? So are the two of you a thing then?” Hob asks, and would you look at that, turns out ghosts can blush after all.

“I—maybe?” Charles says, his voice pitched higher with uncertainty. “I don’t know, actually. I mean, it's, well…complicated I guess?”

“How so?” Hob asks. He’d suspected there had been something going on between them, it was obvious in their body language, and how they gently teased one another throughout the night after the banshee had gone. Now Charles is talking like a man newly in love and completely besotted.

“Is she giving you mixed signals?” Hob follows up when Charles doesn't answer.

“No!” Charles exclaims, shaking his head. “It’s me really, I’m—I don’t know.” He sighs in frustration and runs a hand through his hair. “I thought for a while that’s what I wanted and then Edwin—” he suddenly cuts himself off, a small amount of panic now crossing his features.

Ah. Now the reason for Charles' visit suddenly makes itself clear. Crystal clear even, but Hob keeps that terrible pun to himself.

“So Edwin finally told you how he felt about you?” Hob asks, deciding to rip the bandage off now and quell the strange awkwardness in the room. Charles’ head whips up so fast Hob feels his own neck start to cramp up in sympathy.

“You knew ?” Charles asks. “But Edwin said he’d only figured it out when we were in Port Townsend!”

Hob shrugs. “Sometimes, things are easier to spot when you’re not in the middle of them,” he replies. “But it was pretty clear that, at the very least, Edwin considered you the most important person to him. It's not surprising he fell in love with you too.”

“You really think so?” Charles asks. “Because I don't—I’d never really thought about it before, you know? He's my most important person too, but I never thought that we would be more than that. But now that he's said it, I can't stop thinking about it.”

“Yeah?” Hob asks. “Does it bother you that he feels that way?” A shake of the head. Good. “Do you ever think you could return those feelings?”

“I don’t know, and that’s the problem!” Charles cries, his voice pitching near to a whine. He stands and paces around Hob’s living room, and Hob has to try not to laugh into his tea. Teenage problems were always the same, whether a live or dead.

“To be honest, I’m still really into Crystal,” Charles starts, “...but then after everything with Edwin, and what happened to Niko, I started thinking, well, how long will that really last? Crystal’s alive, I’m not. She’s going to—she won’t—she’ll eventually—”

“Grow up?” Hob offers when the teen can’t find the right words. “Grow old, hopefully? Live a fulfilling life with someone else that’s flesh and blood?”

“I—yeah. Ideally yes,” Charles replies, though it's clear the thought bothers him by the way he scrunches his features. “But also, what if us being together puts her in too much danger? What if she—if what happened to Niko happens to her, I couldn't bear it, Mr. Gadling.”

“Hob,” Hob corrects the boy gently. “I've told you before that you don't need to call me Mister anything, makes me feel way older than I already feel,” he adds with a laugh. Charles gives him a half smile and just shrugs helplessly. Some habits were impossible to break, it seemed.

“And those are perfectly reasonable fears to have,” Hob continues. “Crystal is her own person though, and you need to take into account that she might find the risk worth it. And to be honest, I feel like the risk to her life is the same, whether you two are romantically involved or not.”

“Yeah, I suppose you're right,” Charles agrees, flopping back down onto Hob’s couch and staring back into the still steaming mug of tea. “So do you think we should give it a go, then?”

Hob shrugs. “I think you two like each other,” he replies, “but whether you think a relationship is worth it is up to you. Does Edwin know about you two?”

“He knows—some stuff yeah,” Charles replies sheepishly. “I had told him I liked her way before he, you know, confessed to me and all. And like, even afterwards, it seems like he’s fine, but I really don’t know if it’s all actually fine, or if he’s just trying to act like he’s fine just because I look fine but he’s not really fine and what if I’ve mucked everything up or—”

“Hey, slow down, Charles,” Hob interjects, and the boy’s mouth clicks shut immediately. “From what I can see, nothing has changed between you, so I wouldn't worry about it,” he adds, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. “Besides, you and Edwin have been together this long now, you've got more than enough time to sort things out, one way or the other.”

“Yeah,” Charles agrees, his voice now wistfully soft and clearly full of affection. “When we were in Hell, I said that to him,you know. That we have eternity to figure it all out.”

“Did you now?” Hob asks, now smiling himself. “Sounds like you two are on the same page then, as per usual. Now you just need to make a decision yourself and Crystal.”

“Yeah…yeah you're right,” Charles says, seeming to come to a decision. His back straightens and he sits up, his signature smile back on his face. “Edwin and I may have forever, but Crystal doesn't and it's rude to keep a lady waiting right?”

“Absolutely," Hob replies.

Charles leaves shortly after, promising not to overthink everything and let his feelings come naturally to him. Hob is fairly certain he knows where things will land eventually, and he's sure Charles does too. It doesn't make the journey to get there any less worthwhile.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives fanfic #the sandman #payneland #dreamling #charles rowland #edwin payne #crystal palace #hob gadling #seiya writes #seiya writes dbda #chapter 2 let's go friends whooooo

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peonycats · 6 months

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So I was recently informed that my latest post caused someone to accuse me of posting Chinese imperialism apologia, specifically for my tag comment that says: "If you accuse me of being hypocritical because I'm so anal about tying the nations to their states when it comes to the West but shy away when it comes to China, 1) you clearly don't know how Sinophobia works and 2) I ain't no coward."

Now, it may perplex you how people can accuse me of being a CCP apologist for a post where I called China a slut and specifically noted China's poor treatment of Uyghurs, but unfortunately, it's not the first time I've received accusations of being pro-CCP despite no supporting evidence.

I know I don't talk a lot about my personal life or internal goings-on on this blog, but I want to say this- I'm not completely unaffected by these frequent accusations. It hurts to see me being reduced to my Chineseness. My Chineseness being weaponized to discredit me as a wumao feels incredibly dehumanizing, and it hurts even more to see people believe those accusations.

To give you my background, I was raised in a fairly nationalist household; my grandfather was born as an illiterate peasant and consequently came to hold very pro-Mao beliefs. From an early age, I often came to verbal blows with my parents (and my extended family) over these beliefs and argued frequently with them over Taiwan, Tibet's annexation, and China's policies towards minorities. I remember representing Kazakhstan for Model United Nations and was assigned to write a paper on the Kazakh reaction towards China’s unlawful detention of Uyghurs. Just mentioning this simple fact to my parents sparked a heated “debate” where they accused me of being brainwashed by Western propaganda, and that I was incapable of understanding China’s actions because I was born in the US.

I haven’t brought up any of this because I’m a private person by nature, and I felt that my posts should speak for themselves about my political beliefs. And yet, I find myself in the position of where I need to bring this up in order to defend myself from accusations of supporting Chinese imperialism, for disagreeing with another person, or calling something sinophobic/promoting sinophobia.

Sinophobia overlaps with other forms of racism, especially anti-Asian racism when other Asians are mistaken to be Chinese. However, we have to recognize that the specificity of China itself in "mistaken to be Chinese" is also what distinguishes Sinophobia from the more general anti-Asian racism. It indicates a designation of China as a prominent actor on the world stage, and most importantly- an inherently antagonistic one. The symbolism of China being inherently antagonistic is what justifies the conflation of Chinese people with the Chinese state; if China is by nature antagonistic then Chinese people must subsequently be extensions of the Chinese government, and every action they do must be politicized.

What are the implications when the fandom gives the okay to depictions of America hanging out with countries that the actual USA has fraught history with, but as soon as China does the same, questions and concerns arise about “making light” of China’s irl actions? That China can’t be disassociated with his state the same way other imperialist powers are in the fandom?

Bear in mind, I am saying this as someone who personally interprets all the nations as inherently political entities. China is no exception to this- my most recent post was parodying an Onion article about Biden and Xi, where Alfred and Yao literally take on the roles of their heads of state. I am the last person who shies away from politicizing all the nations.

Rather, I am pointing out how China is being exceptionalized from wider fandom trends of depoliticizing the characters; I find this pattern troubling, as over-politicizing a Western nation (like America) does not have the same implications as over-politicizing China.

The latter reflects dangerous trends on how Chinese people, especially Chinese communities abroad, are perceived, how we’re expected to answer for and answer to the Chinese government and its actions, and how, at best, we’re dismissed as being simply brainwashed, and how at worst, we’re seen as enemies of the populace, threats to national integrity. When we are seen to be “acting out of line,” we are viewed as perpetual outsiders, agents of a foreign regime. The same judgment is not levied towards white Americans, even those who live in America, vote in America, and benefit from American imperialism.

I witnessed the dramatic rise in anti-Asian hate crimes and Sinophobic rhetoric during the COVID-19 pandemic: I was living in Atlanta during the 2020 spa shootings and I didn’t leave my dorm room for a week afterward. I worried over my mother, who every week, went to shop at local Chinese grocery stores in the area. I heard people spread conspiracy theories about how the virus was engineered by the Chinese government and spread by Chinese in the West as part of some grand conspiracy to ensure Chinese global dominance. All of this, led me to become conscious (in a way I hadn’t been before) of how conflating Chinese people with the Chinese government was frequently employed by bigots to mask their violent prejudice under the guise of “being anti-CCP.”

As a result, being Chinese diaspora is an emotionally fraught experience. Not only are we under constant scrutiny by others, but Chinese Mainlander diaspora specifically like myself face rejection when we choose to go against our families’ beliefs. But despite that, despite me being born and raised in the United States and living with this sort of bigotry all my life, it still cuts me deeply to see someone so quickly accuse me of supporting Chinese imperialist actions, despite me never posting in favor of the CCP in the past, simply because I pointed out how sinophobia manifests. It cuts even deeper to see people, people I know, agree with that assessment, and how I have to go out and publicly reveal details of my personal life to try and exonerate myself.

It really does hurt.

#not hetalia #// long post #i think im gonna take a break from posting for a while #I just need some time away

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 1 year

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Atsushi Nakajima (self-aware)

Self-Aware! Atsushi Nakajima x GN!Reader

Warning: Yandere. OOC. Slight spoilers for Atsushi's past. Atsushi almost had an existential crisis, English is my second language.

Becoming self-aware

🐯 Atsushi was the first character who gained self-awareness.

🐯 When Atsushi realised he was a fictional character, he was devastated and confused.

🐯 His past in the orphanage... Does it have any meaning? Or was it all just for someone's entertainment? Has he even been abused by the orphanage director? Was he even a child? Or he just appeared on the river bank with memories of events that never occurred?

🐯 And his new friends? Were they alive? Or they were puppets, forced to say the same lines?

🐯 Thankfully, other characters soon become self-aware and Atsushi wasn't alone anymore, but damage has already been done.

🐯 And then he felt an entity's presence.

_________________________________________

At first, Atsushi thought, that he finally lose it. He won't be surprised, really. Atsushi couldn't even be sure, that he could be considered human at that point, so, the feeling of being watched just tagged along with Atsushi's anxiety and dread.

Soon, Atsushi realised, that it wasn't him going mad. Someone was watching him and other members of ADA. Everyone noted, that they felt someone's presence.

Yes, Atsushi could pretend, that Dazai was playing along, pretending, he also felt been watched, but, Atsushi admitted, that Dazai would never do that. And then Kunikida and President Fukuzawa admitted, that they feel someone's gaze on them.

And they weren't been watched all the time. The presence were there only when something interesting were happening. Like something, or someone, was doing it for its own entertainment. Like it was watching the TV show.

They weren't going mad. Someone was watching them. It wasn't the ability. It was someone not from Yokohama.

This someone came from outside.

And time resets.

Atsushi, once again, was on the river bank.

________________________________________

When they start feeling your presence

🐯 Atsushi was scared of you. Were you the one who did it? Were you the one, who emptied the streets of Yokohama?

🐯 Atsushi was angry at you. Were you doing it for your own amusement? Were you making them believe they were fictional characters?

🐯 And now you reset time. Are you a god? Are you a demon? Are you an evil spirit? Why are you doing it? Who give you the right to play with their lives?

🐯 Atsushi saved Dazai from the river, again. And then Atsushi felt it. The entity cheered. The entity was... praising him? For doing a good job? No, for doing the right thing. For been a good person.

"You [|||||||||||||] good [||||||||||], Atsushi! Don't [||||||||||||]!

🐯 Atsushi can recognise all the words But it was clear, that entity's feelings and words were genuine. And really strong. Atsushi felt, like he was covered with something warm. With the softest blanket.

🐯 Atsushi saw, that both Dazai and Kunikida felt the same. During their dinner in a tea house, all of them felt it. The entity was amused with Dazai's antics. The entity was intrigued by Kunikida's combat skills.

🐯 But, the most important thing happened in the warehouse, when Atsushi, once again, talked to Dazai about his past in the orphanage.

_________________________________________

"At the orphanage, people always told me I'm worthless. I have no idea where my next meal will come from or my next bed. No one would care if I died on the street. I might as well just let that beast eat me and be done with it."

As soon as this words left Atsushi's mouth, he heard sobs.

The entity was crying. Atsushi felt something warm on his cheek. Like someone was petting him.

[In reality, you are gently petting manga's panel with Atsushi.]

Atsushi recognised some words.

"poor Atsushi" "monsters" "with a child" "how dare they".

And then, clear as day.

"I am sorry, I can't take your pain away."

🐯 Atsushi felt that his anger dissapeared. He doesn't know, who are you. What are you. But he knew one thing. You cared.

🐯 Their story continues. Soon all characters heard something nice from you. The union was formed. All organisations decided to work together to find more about you and find a way to reach out for you.

And then, one day, the purple moon shined above Yokohama.

When you installed BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan

🐯 Atsushi was your first character. From now on, he heared you nice and clear.

"You are the good person, Atsushi! You are stronger, than you think. Don't let others say you otherwise."

"Wow! You did so much damage! You are so cool, Atsushi!"

"Here, let's raise your level!"

🐯 You praised him. You were glad, he is with you.

🐯 Atsushi felt aful that he hated you. You were so kind. And when others uncovered, that you were a simple person, who had no idea they were alive, Atsushi felt even worse. He thought you were something supernatural and bad. And you were someone normal and kind.

🐯 Atsushi want to protect you. To be near you. He and others will find a way to you world. They will be with you. Until then, they have this game to talk to you.

____________________________

You opened the BSD Mayoi. You decide to check, if there was new gifts from the office. You saw, that you had a new gift in your Gift box. Thinking, that you forgot to collect something, you tap on Gift box icon.

It was a message.

"Dear [Y/N], Thanks for been near. Thanks for been kind. I will find a way to pay for your kindness. For now, acsept this. Atsushi Nakajima."

There was 50 moons attached to the message.

You thought, that it was nee feature in a game. That time to time characters will send players messagers, thanking them. You acsept gift and open character menu. You choose Atsushi's card and pet his chibi sprite.

"Thanks for the gift, Atsushi."

You didn't notice, that sprite blushed.

#bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd anime #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs au #atsushi nakajima #atsushi nakajima x reader #gender neutral reader #yandere #Self-AwareAU #Self-AwareBSD #Self-Aware Atsushi #Self-Aware Atsushi Nakajima #Self-Aware Nakajima

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shizucheese · 3 months

Text

So fun fact I normally try to avoid Tumblr between Thursday and when I finally get to listen to the new Protocol episode because that seems easier than constantly blocking and unblocking the spoilers tags, but also this is my preferred social media site so it generally results in a vicious cycle of me hopping in Tumblr, and either VERY CAUTIOUSLY scrolling (or scrolling only through specific tags), or completely forgetting until I see even a HINT of something Protocol related (even if it's not spoilers) and figuratively running away screaming.

As always, you can find the full evolving red string board here. It's getting real long. I'm trying to decide if I want to start a fresh one for season 2 or if I want to see how long and unwieldy that puppy can really get. What do you guys think?

Today is Monday, 3/4/24. Episode 8 came out on 2/29/21.

“Talkers”

Norris (Voice: Martin?/ Alex)

Episode 1: “Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret [Email]”. The Stranger? The End? The Dark? The Lonely? The Flesh? Arthur (Nolan?).

Episode 3: "Infection (full body" -/- Arboreal [Journal entry]". The Spiral? (Paranoia? Auditory, visual and olfactory hallucinations) The Lonely? The Corruption. The Flesh? (Callbacks to the Flesh Garden from S5)

Episode 8: "Architecture (liminal) -/- hunger [coursework]". The Spiral. The Lonely. (Statement giver has an ex-wife. Witnesses strange mist. Fog?) The Stranger? The Vast. The Flesh. The description of the space reminds me a bit of Mag 150: Cul-De-Sac. The description of the diners and the way they were speaking reminds me of Mag 48: Lost in the Crowd.

Common Themes: Hearing the voice of a dead/ missing loved one? Loneliness

Chester (Voice: John?/ Jonny)

Episode 1: “Transformation (eyes) -/- Tresspass [chat log]”. Magnus Institute, The Eye. (Involves a forum; the Web?).

Episode 5: "Disappearance (undetermined) -/- Invitation [Internet blog]". The Eye (Movies. Movie name: "Voyeur" "Must be seen to be believed"...). The Web? (Another website?). (Very reminiscent of Mag 110: Creature Feature.) The "poor old guy" at the theater is totally an Eye avatar, right? Kinda gives me "Simon Fairchild when he was first introduced" vibes.

Episode 7: "Agglomeration (miscellany) -/- congregation [email]". The Stranger. The Burried. The Desolation. Possibly all of them if my theory about the items the Volunteers brought in is correct...

Unsure if this is Eye related like the other statements were. This is also the first "Chester" statement where the source material wasn't from a website or blog, which don't have the same expectation of privacy that the sources of the other statements do. Email, though, so still internet related, and this seems to be an open letter rather than personal correspondence, so it still might align with the theme.

Agustus: (rare?)

Episode 4: “Collection (blood) -/- musical [letter]” The End. The Lonely? The Slaughter.

Letter writer thinks passing on his violin might allow a part of himself to live on in his nephew. Very Jonah Magnus of him.

Music teacher hears “faraway music”, then goes crazy and throws himself out of the carriage and dies. Reminiscent of Mag7 and the Piper? The merchant’s wares include dice (Mag 29?). Got the violin from him (took his blood?). Effect of the violin reminiscent to Grifter’s Bone (Mag 42).

(Oliver Bardwell lol very funny guys)

Non-Talkers (?)

Episode 2: "Transformation (full) -/- dysmorphic [video call]". The Spiral? The Flesh. The Stranger. Ink 5oul (avatar/ entity?)

Episode 6: "Injury (needles) -/- intimidation [999 call] "Corruption? The Spiral? The Flesh? The End?

"Needles" reminds me of Michael!Distortion.

Notes and Thoughts:

I think we've all been a bit off about the theme of the Norris statements. The common theme isn't I lost a loved one; I can almost hear their voice..." The common theme is loneliness. Like yeah, the statement giver mentions being divorced, but it doesn't seem to be a central driving factor for him the way it was with the other two Norris statements. I think it's just that those two were lonely because they lost a loved one and had isolated themselves in one way or another because of it, and this guy was lonely because he got trapped in a liminal space.

Alice sounds really tired. What's up with that? (Also, considering how much she continues to seem to enjoy messing with people, I'm still convinced she has some connection to the Web.)

GERRY?!!! (not a coincidence. The credits call him Gerry Keay. Also same VA, but I totally didn't recognize him at first because he sounds happy???) GG??? (Credits say Sue Sims as Gertrude Robinson!!!) "Grandson" you say? For realsies? Or did you adopt him (again kinda)? Or is it a cover like it was the last time. Gertrude's word choice of "good luck hunting" was weird, huh...? Is this actually something big or are they just cameos because Alex and Jonny like to mess with us. I trust nothing. Why did the Magnus Institute have a "gifted kids" program? And is Sam just saying that as a cover story or is it true and that's why he's been so interested the whole time? (Reminds me a bit of certain elements of the Storage Papers...)

Celia is doing "a favor for Georgie"?!!!

Is this OUR Georgie or the TMP world Georgie? How much of a connection is there between TMA Gerry, Gertrude and Georgie and TMP Gerry, Gertrude and Georgie?

I wonder if the episode coming out on 2/29, a date that only exists every 4 years, and the episode being about liminal spaces was on purpose or just a happy coincidence.

#the magnus protocol #the magnus protocol speculation #the magnus protocol spoilers #tmp #tmp spoilers #tmp speculation #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #tmagp speculation #tma spoilers #shizu's red string board

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 years

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Shopkeeper: Yrjo Spenkrank, The Unfettered Flunkey

“I’ve had many call me odd, in my years, monstrous if they were feeling cruel. But I’ve lived long enough to know that being ordinary makes you predictable, and predictability gets you killed.”

Appearing on lonely roads, shaded alleys, and ruined corridors with only the creaking of wheels and the rattle of vials to herald his approach, wandering alchemist Yrjo steps from the darkness to provide the party with unorthodox solutions to their heroic problems.

Shunned in his small village due to a malformation at birth, Yrjo’s curiosity at his circumstance led him to the study of anatomy and the healer’s arts, eventually piecing together enough knowledge to reach adulthood as a competent bonesetter. In a different time, with more accepting people, Yrjo would have made a great doctor, apothecary, or surgeon, but Isolated as he was in an ignorant land, Yrjo was forced to follow his calling elsewhere....

Serving for decades as the assistant to mad scientists, necromancers, and a succession of other villains doomed to be devoured by their own hubris, Yrjo developed a talent for outliving his employers: Slipping out the back door of their lair just as the experiment went wrong with sack full of research notes and valuable reagents. Building quite a collection of forbidden knowledge over his career, Yrjo now wanders from settlement to settlement, plying the physician's trade until he a new dark scheme worth suborning

Adventure Hooks:

While he’s well stocked with all manner of potion and tinctures available for modest fees, Yrjo’s true utility to the party comes in his knowledge, identifying evil entities or curses, and performing all the careful doctoring that regular healing is unable to provide. The alchemist is even able to perform resurrections on the cheap, provided the departed’s friends don’t mind doing some light grave robbing and bringing them back as a patchwork cadaver fuelled by necro-electrical energy.

It’s a trade secret that most villains know eachother, often working with the same suppliers and contracting out to a shared pool of potential minions. As a freelancer, Yrjo is often overlooked by the greater class of evildoer, meaning he’s more than happy to gossip and give the party directions regardless of whether they’re looking for leads, bounties, or introductions.

Yrjo is getting on in years, and though he’s loathe to admit it, his old bones and his bad shoulder are having trouble hauling his cart with him. Socially awkward and hesitant to settle down given his poor history with average people, a party that makes use of the old alchemist’s services might find him showing up more and more on their adventures, shadowing them but unable to work up the courage to ask to tag along as their camp doctor.

Before the party head off on an adventure where the old man cannot follow, consider having him speak of his long-neglected wish to attend an institution of higher learning, which will obviously have your party scrambling to have their mad-science grandpa enrolled as soon as possible so he can fulfill his dreams of being a real doctor. Alternatively, should the party come into position of a manor/keep, Yrjo will be happy to stay behind and set up a lab, keeping them well stocked in potions and other alchemic utilities.

#people are strange when you're a stranger #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e #Halloween #spooky #npc #ally #camp follower #low level #seeking healing #healing #ravenloft #gothic #Alchemy

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lindseybots · 2 months

Note

OHOHOHOHOHO THIS IS A WHOLE AU???? This is INCREDIBLE my heart is MELTING LOOK AT THOSE SWEETIES!!! A thought to keep Wind away from the Tower of Spirits, in the Septimus Heap books there’s a rule where “when dead you only tread once more; where living, you have trod before” so perhaps Wind being a natural ghost unlike Zelda isn’t able to go above the lobby of the Tower. Cause let’s be real, he would totally go through the dungeons but Anjean would have his hide if he tried to go up the Tower.

Also, is this LU? Totally cool if not! Just the two of them having fun together is enough to get me bouncing off the walls!

Ooooo a lot to unpack with this one!

First of all, THANK YOU! I’m so happy that you love the au!! I’m having so much fun making it, so I’m glad you’re enjoying it.

Next, I’m gonna answer the LU question because that answer is going to be shorter.

Honestly, I’m kind of glad you asked because I’ve seen people mention it a few times in comments, reblog tags, etc of some of my AU posts before, which made me wonder if there was some confusion about it. So, I’m glad I’m getting an excuse to clear this up.

While LU is super great (seriously go check it out if you haven’t) and I am incredibly honored that you think they are worthy of standing together on the same playing field, it is a separate thing.

The Wind’s Track AU is not associated with Linked Universe in any way. That is to say: in the “canon” of The Winds Track AU, the events of Linked Universe DO NOT AND WILL NOT EXIST.

Of course, if y’all want to make fan content that is a blend of the two AUs, that’s fine with me. All I ask is that, if you could, please make it clear somewhere that, normally, the AUs are separate entities to avoid any confusion for people who don’t know. Also, it’d be really nice if you’d give credit to the au creators so newcomers know where to find our AUs. (Also tag me so I can see it 👀🤭)

Again, I don’t mind if people make that kind of content to combine the aus, but I would hate for people to come here expecting LU due to miscommunication and then not get it. Y’know?

Now, I can talk about Wind and the Tower of Spirits.

I never actually considered him NOT being involved in solving the floors. The idea that he CAN’T is REALLY INTERESTING. Ohhhh that’d kill him inside.

This boy is so used to being at the center of the adventures, and now he has to leave it to someone else? AND HIS LITTLE BROTHER AT THAT?? AND YOU MEAN TO TELL HIM HE CANT DO ANYTHING BUT WAIT??? OHHHH.

Not to mention the fact that this is the location in the game that you revisit the most for the story.

The way I can picture this poor boy ready to just race up those stairs, regardless of potential consequences. Anjean would probably be tempted to tie him down if he wouldn’t just phase through the ropes.

I LOVE THIS IDEA. Not only is it angsty, but it fixes so many of the potential issues I’ve been trying to solve within this AU.

I don’t think I mentioned this before, but I was also trying to figure out a way to get Zelda to go help in the Tower of Spirits in the first place. The only reasons she goes at first in the game is because Anjean tells them that it’s too dangerous for Link / Spirit to go by himself, and during that time, she is the only one available to fill that role. If Wind were able to go, then there wouldn’t have been any reason to essentially force her in the role. There would need to be a new reason made.

This idea, however, FIXES THAT. THANK YOU!!

I also love that it reserves a portion of the game’s events to just be for Spirit and Zelda. They have such a wonderful relationship in the game, so having the events of the Tower be for just the two of them could really help in maintaining that strong bond that helped make Spirit Tracks so special.

I’ll make a point to find ways for Wind to be more helpful in other parts of the game to make up for his exclusion from the Tower of Spirits’ floors.

#lindseybot answers #the wind’s track #the wind’s track au #wt au #linked universe #the wind's track #the wind's track au

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madaboutmunson · 4 months

Text

Look through these blackened eyes You'll see ten thousand lies

I Think I Could Have Been Someone - Chapter 9

Ao3 Link

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Link to fic overview and all parts

Chapter Summary: Pumping with the adrenaline from their fight and with his permission, Eddie attempts to exact his revenge on Steve between the sheets. But is retribution all that is at play here?

Author Notes: This is a mature story, definitely 18+ only.

This is my first ever published smut chapter. I am sweating with nerves as I type this lol.

I have a few bang event projects to finish up, so this story will have to take a short break. Though the next few 5 chapters are already written then need to be edited, which takes me a lot of time. Sorry :(

Tags/Warnings: rockstar!AU; band; touring; music industry; alternate universe; drug usage; alcohol abuse; performing; enemies to lovers; road trip; stobin; platonic stobin; platonic with a capital P; canon typical violence; angst; masochism; fist fight; smut

Word Count: 10.5K

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I Think I Could Have Been Someone - Part 9 - Eddie POV

Even in his wildest dreams, Eddie couldn’t have possibly imagined this because nothing about this moment in time makes any sense to him at all.

Hasn’t he loathed this man for years now? Didn’t this guy ruin his life? Hadn’t this guy just seconds ago tried to beat him down verbally and physically? Eddie realises it’s a resounding yes to everything, yet he feels a pulsing energy around them—something teetering on a cliff edge.

He didn’t know why he’d answered that way. It just fell out of his mouth, Only everything.

And he did want that. He wanted to steal everything from Harrington, just like he’d stolen everything from him, but he knew that wasn’t just revenge talking. Although that feeling is still very present, another looming entity is in the room. Lust. He could feel its selfish, irresponsible form like some gelatinous ooze was creeping all over him. Seeping into every recess of his brain, turning off logic centres as it passes, only leaving primal things in its wake. The only reason he lets it continue its pilgrimage into his very being is because it’s evident he isn’t alone in this.

Harrington’s lips are still at the shell of his ear. The last thing he’d heard from them was a whimper at his reply as his entire body weight rested on top of him. Eddie is in semi-thoughtful, mostly impulsive deliberations with the ornate ceiling above them. Then there is the delicate brush of stubble as Harrington pushes his head further over his shoulder until his lips press against his ear, “Then take it.” He whispers like silk, and Eddie is not god’s strongest soldier, or anyone's for that matter. His eyes roll back as the words and all their potential implications ignite every neuron in his body. Surging to the tip of his tongue for the next thing to say. Rocketing to his fingertips for the next thing to touch. His heart thumps powerfully in its skeletal hideaway, but not for love, for an imminent frenzy. For the thrill of finally getting something over the man who’s haunted his every waking day, every nightmare-filled night, and the poor wretch is offering it up to him on a silver platter. Take it.

Eddie never considered himself an angel, but he had principles and morals that kept him on the right side of judgement from himself and maybe others, but this might be a temptation too far. Harrington was correct. He had been a fan in the early days, at least. Perhaps even up until everything fell apart. Recalling his world imploding, he feels his grip on Harrington tighten again like he wants to squeeze the breath right out of him, but he resists when he hears that gentle groan in his ear.

He feels like he could both give in to something basal and still satisfy the need to get one over on Harrington if he follows the path his hormones are gouging out for him. He feels his accomplice's hands shakily run up his sides. The breath at his ear is now against his cheek as Harrington turns to face him, head still heavy on his shoulder. Maybe he was exhausted? Perhaps he’d already given up?

Eddie has to decide. Morally, this was bad. Professionally potentially the worst decision ever, but personally, maybe the sweetest fucking revenge. The holy grail of blackmail, or perhaps no one would even believe him if he told them. No one would think that Harrington, who walks the red carpet with his doting wife, or Harrington, who gets papped with his tongue hanging out for some harem of female groupies to hang off by sucking on it, would forgo them all to fool around with an average joe, like him. A nobody. A nobody who was, at one time, on the cusp of being a somebody.

And maybe that’s what seals the deal for him. He violently pushes Harrington off him, hoping to press against one of the many bruises currently developing, and he must because he hisses as he meets the carpet with a thud.

Eddie gets to his knees, and before Harrington can let any more spiteful words leave his wretched mouth, he grabs a fistful of hair and yanks him up until they are face to face. But Harrington isn’t struggling; he lets himself hang limp in Eddie’s grip. The previous violence has begun plumping parts of his face, the red marks deepening as burst blood vessels spill under his skin. His mouth hangs open slightly, “Take it,” he mumbles a reminder through swollen split lips.

Eddie’s other hand rapidly finds its way into Harrington’s obnoxious, luxurious hair and closes the gap between them with a clash of teeth. Their lips meet brutally. He can feel the hair strands fall between his fingers as his grip tightens, pulling it out from the roots. There is no polite request for entry when Eddie’s tongue forces its way into his mouth, but he’s not met with any resistance, only moans of pleasure.

Initially, Harrington is a malleable thing in his hands, bending to his will, letting Eddie cruelly bite and drag his teeth over the wounds on his lips before kissing his hisses and whimpering back into his mouth, like he doesn’t want to hear them. And he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to hear or see anything that might induce him to be merciful. Soon enough, Harrington springs to life, grabbing fistfuls of a T-shirt at Eddie's waist, twisting it around his fingers until Eddie feels it pull tight across his back. With a grunt pushed into his mouth, he finds himself yanked flush with Harrington. The heat and pressure from another makes the skin in all the places their bodies meet feel like embers of something long forgotten, but as they move together, the sparks find their fuel and ignite a searing wildfire across the surface of his skin. He can feel his heart pounding. He can hear it in his ears like a bass line to the wanton melody of noises between them.

He feels a shift again. Harrington’s knees bracket one of his own, forcing them closer together. Another sigh spills from out Harrington, and Eddie consumes it hungrily. Like he’s trying to capture everything. He would let the night have nothing. This was all his. Every sigh, moan, whimper and groan. He would gorge himself on everything he was pulling out of Harrington until he was sick from overindulgence or until Harrington had no more to give.

Then, just like he’s acclimatising, nothing further happens between them below the belt line, but Harrington’s hands find their way up and under Eddie's shirt. Calloused fingertips but soft palms glide over his back, urging him closer, even though it is physically impossible, but the gentleness is distracting and has no place here. Eddie drags his teeth over Steve’s tongue as he pulls away, only to have his mouth adorably chased by the man opposite him, who looked starved for it, even though they’ve been clamped together for who knows how long. Eddie ignores it, licks along Harrington’s jawline, and bites down on the hinge of it with his teeth, a helpful reminder of what is happening here.

He gets the message.

Harrington’s hands raise to his shoulder blades, rough fingertips press into his skin there, and then excruciatingly slowly, he drags his blunt fingernails down Eddie’s back. A gasp fights out and into his ear, causing a reactionary hip buck into his thigh from Harrington, whose fingers soothe their way back up the fresh scratches.

Harrington, for the first time, leans back, his spit-wet mouth slightly parted as he observes Eddie through barely open hooded eyes before raking his nails down him again, faster this time, making Eddie’s back arch towards him with a yelp from the stinging pain melting into a sigh caused by a wave of endorphins rearing up and crashing down on him. Involuntarily, he closes his eyes, maybe to savour the sensation of the burning strands of heat trailing over his back, perhaps to not look at Harrington. He isn’t sure, but he soon finds himself pulled into a more comfortable measured distance of zero. But no lips meet his. A hand grasps his jaw tightly and tips his head backwards. He feels a breath at the base of his throat, the moisture evaporating so quickly from him there is a coolness for a second before Harrington’s tongue drags up the column of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. “Wait here,” he’s instructed as Harrington leaves, and he finally dares open his eyes, tries to catch his breath, palms at the bulge in his jeans for a second of relief, and relaxes back on his heels.

He watches Harrington busy himself with a door handle sign, and he opens the door a crack. Immediately, Buckley’s face appears in it.

“Jesus Christ, Steve!” She exclaims quietly, but he’s already trying to close the door again after hanging a do not disturb sign.

“Relax. We’re not fighting anymore.” He says and slams the door.

“Then what are you doing in there?” She yells angrily through the door.

Steve yanks the door open again, “I dunno, fucking hopefully,” she’s about to say something else when he slams the door shut and locks it again.

That makes Eddie spring to his feet, and his brain feeds him a million reasons why he really should leave, but the problem being he still has a reason to stay, and he’s still horny as hell.

Harrington slinks his way back and leisurely looks Eddie over, “What happened?” He smirks, “Didn’t wanna be on your knees when I got back?” Harrington reaches over and takes his arm, runs his hands over it, inspects it, leads him to the couch, and sits them both down. He waits for a second before crawling towards Eddie. He looked more creature than man. Almost under a spell, Eddie feels himself doing one thing but saying another. He reclines back on the seat, coaxing Harrington into his lap, saying, “This is a terrible idea, Harrington.”

“Oh, the absolute worst, for sure,” Harrington smiles slyly as he straddles Eddie’s thighs, “And I think it would be even worse for me to hear you call me by my name and not my brand.”

Eddie’s chest heaves as he is manhandled to make him a more comfortable seat, “Yeah, that would be a really dumb thing to do, wouldn’t it, Steve?” And he watches as Steve’s eyes shoot to his and shift from something amused to something all the more sultry. He tilts his head a little like he didn’t hear correctly, eyes firmly fixed on Eddie, who thinks he knows what he’s being asked to do, “Did you hear what I said,” Eddie lets his eyes fall to his lap and drags them unhurriedly back to meet the blooming dilated pupils of the man seated on him, “Steve?”

Like his own name is the shot of a starting pistol, Steve launches himself at Eddie again, with force enough to rock the furniture.

Within seconds, things start to feel almost competitive. Every kiss was returned with a more forceful one, every grip on the other's body was returned with a harder, more cruel squeeze, and every needy grind down was met with a hard thrust upwards.

The one-upmanship leaves Eddie intoxicated. He’s trying to think but can’t. He’s overwhelmed by sensation. His primitive brain just hungers for more. To take everything until all that is left is a carcass of the man huffing and panting in his lap. For a second, he doesn’t think he has ever seen anything more gloriously desperate as Steve. He wants Eddie with abandon of everything else. His persona seemed shed. He seemed real. Human. Not a nemesis. Not a celebrity. Not an object to covet. Just a guy. A hot as sin, ravenous, wild, hazardously beautiful man.

Something threatens to bloom inside Eddie’s chest, and a fresh urgency springs to life, like a survival instinct almost. He reaches for Steve’s shirt and begins unfastening it. His fingers feel their way clumsily over the buttons as the rest of his body is otherwise occupied. He finds his hands grasped and pushed down to rest on Steve’s thighs as he leans back for a moment to pull the shirt over his head, and he finds his hands placed back on his torso, and that feeling of much softer than expected skin under his fingertips is tantalising but as he caresses over his body, it’s when his fingers meet the stubble at his chest or the trail down his abdomen that really sends Eddie into a spin. It overheats him. He feels like his own clothes are suffocating him. That they are needlessly in the way. He craves to feel this against his own skin and reaches behind his head, leaning forward to shed himself of some of it, but a hand on his chest pauses him.

Eddie looks up to find Steve toying with one of the many long chains draped around his neck, but instead of asking any questions, his eyes force him on a mini visual expedition of what his hands had been trailing over. A short, stunted breath leaves his mouth. This was crazy. He’s seen this body a million times in magazines, adverts, album covers, billboards, through his own camera lens and eyes, yet it feels like he’s never seen anything like it before. Littered with tattoos, a visibly heaving chest, ribs that appear and disappear as he breathes, muscles that flex and pulse as he writhes his body, but eventually, he hears him.

“Does it hold any sentimental value?” Steve rasps, his eyes trailing over and grasping onto his T-shirt.

“No,” he replies with a pointless, unseen shake of his head. Steve immediately yanks a necklace from his neck with a grunt of effort, and he slides that under Eddie’s shirt. The chain still attached slides along his skin. Some links are still heated from Steve in parts. Others were cool enough to almost make him want to jerk away from them.

The safety-conscious part of Eddie is urging him to look at what might be happening under his shirt, but the hedonist who has clawed his way from the depths to the surface only wants to feast on what it wants to store for future reference.

It’s innocent enough to start with, taking in how engaged he is with his task at hand, how his eyes that, naturally slope into a sadness, are wide and alive with anticipation. The way his bruised lips are pressed together in concentration and occasionally bite back into his mouth. Then his eyes trail further down to the sizeable bulge in his jeans, how it’s pressed against his own. He can’t stop his hands from sliding up to his hips, running his fingertips over the bone he hopes to be more intimately acquainted with as soon as possible. He settles on gripping them tightly, rocking his hips upward impatiently. A series of tuts raises his eyes to Steve’s face again, noticing a small smile growing, “Patience, baby. Patience.” He barely mutters out, his eyes still focused on the job at hand until his hand stills high up on his chest, the pendant still gripped in his fingers, “Hold still.” He says with an audible metallic click. Eddie dares to look down but can’t quite see what’s happening until Steve raises his other hand, splays his fingers in a V-shape, pushes down on the material, and the small blade pushes through.

Panic sets in, and a new adrenaline wave surges through him. He should leave immediately. This was fucked up. The fact he had a knife on him this whole time was terrifying, regardless of how little damage it looked like it could do. As he takes a panicked gasp of breath, he looks up at Steve, who is almost chewing on his bottom lip, his heavy-lidded eyes focused on the metal, and he makes a sound of appreciation before rearranging his hands so that he can hold the material taught and pull the blade down. It slices through easily, the fabric falling open, exposing him as it glides down. Eddie’s still breathing hard, but his heart isn’t thumping so much with fear anymore as the knife cuts through the hem, and Steve retracts the blade and tosses it somewhere into the room. His fingers grip the top of the slit, roughly yanking it apart to rip open the collar with a grunt.

Eddie stays entirely still and simply observes Steve. He wishes he had his camera to hand, as it’s quite a sight to behold. He can’t remember the last time someone looked at him like this, not just lustfully, but like he was the most spectacular thing they’d ever seen. Steve’s large hands smooth over his skin and delicately push back the material. A yearnful noise emits from Steve like he can’t have what’s laid out in front of him as he presses into his skin, exploring it with his fingertips, his eyes trailing after them.

So Eddie reminds him that he can. He surges forward, capturing Steve in his arms, pulling him in tightly, pressing them together, and capturing his mouth with his own. It’s a mess of lips, groans and saliva topped with wandering mouths, causing careless, hurried nips of cuts and bruises. But the apologies are wordless. A hiss of too much from one is answered with a pleasurable pinch or caress elsewhere by the other.

Suddenly, Steve’s thighs clench hard around Eddie, and it doesn’t need explaining, but an excited smile sweeps across his face mid-kiss. He grips the back of his thighs and moves them up to wrap around his waist. Denim drags against denim, and he finds his arousal pressed up against something a lot plusher, and at the same time, Steve’s is now pressed into his abdomen, and he resolves these clothes have got to go now. He shuffles to the edge of the sofa, one arm holding their bodies together, the other draped under Steve’s legs, holding him up, simultaneously copping a feel of his ass.

And this must be where their experiences differ because Steve pulls back and looks unsure. Eddie smiles, “Better hold on to something, sweetheart.” He realises his mistake as soon as the pet name leaves his mouth, but he’s not gonna apologise awkwardly over words right now. He pushes himself up to standing, and Steve’s arms urgently wrap around his neck. Eddie checks in on him. Just a glance, he tells himself. Expects to see an almost comical face of panic, and he does for a second until he hears the thick swallow from Steve’s throat and watches his eyelashes bat slowly in a dazed blink at him.

Typically, Eddie knows he would have settled for the couch, but like he said, he wanted everything, and one of the things he wanted most right now was to see Steve an absolute mess under him.

He pushes adjoining doors open until he finds a bed. He stops at the edge of it, peels Steve’s arms from around his neck and unceremoniously lets him go so he lands on it with an oof and a bounce. Then Eddie’s hands quickly find his own belt buckle to finally get out of the remainder of his clothes. Steve doesn’t interrupt him. He just looks him up and down as he rests back on his elbows, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed, wetting his lips in anticipation.

He lets his jeans drop to the floor and kicks off his sneakers. As he bends down to remove his socks, he looks up and finds himself level with Steve’s knee, and his eyes trail up to his crotch, but from this angle, it’s easy enough for Steve’s eyes to capture him again and as he does Steve spreads his knees apart a little more and bites his lip temptingly.

That’s when Eddie acts out of sorts. Usually, he’d just let the other guy give him a show, but he reaches for Steve’s boot, unzips it and removes it for him, and the sock and the other set in turn. Like he’s saving him then trouble. Then clasps onto Steve’s calves, kneading into them through the denim as he works his way up over his knees until his hands glide over his upper leg. Steve’s mouth drops open a little with hope as he glances between Eddie and himself, but Eddie's nimble hands skirt around the place Steve wants him most to undo the fly of his jeans, but once he removes the belt and buckle from the equation he doesn’t find one. He sees where a zipper should be, something akin to the back of a laced corset. Metal eyelets with a black cord running crisscross through them. He tugs at one end, and the ties fall apart easily. His fingertips wander into the waistband of them. He anticipates feeling the fabric of some designer brand briefs, but he finds none. Only the softness of skin. Of course, he’s not wearing any underwear. Eddie almost laughs as he stands to get a better grip on removing his pants, but he’s interrupted.

Steve, obviously not happy about anything slowing down, has sat up, pushed Eddie’s hands out of the way and is currently mouthing at him through his underwear, and Eddie wants it not to feel this good, but it absolutely fucking does. He looks down to meet the hungry, longing eyes already looking up at him, planting eager kisses and licks over the material that is gradually getting soaked through. Steve’s chipped, black, polished fingertips crawl into the band of the Kirkland signature briefs. Eddie wonders for a second how much more expensive the nail polish is compared to them before nodding and Steve pulling down his underwear so he can finally spring free of its oppression.

Steve stops. He stares and goes a little cross-eyed before looking back up at Eddie and running his tongue over his bottom lip. This is different from how he wanted this to go exactly, but who is he to say no. Nobody says no to Steve Harrington, right?

He watches himself taken in ringed hand, fingertips running down his length are soon accompanied by the flat wet expanse of Steve’s tongue dragging up it until it’s rolling around the throbbing head of his cock, and as his lips finally wrap around him, he looks right back up at him again, Eddie has to look away. He puts his hands in his hair, lolling his head back and groans with delight. Not solely because of the fact he’s getting his dick sucked, not just because it’s someone famous, but because it felt like, finally, the tables had turned. Finally, he’s in charge.

Steve’s hands urge him closer, but Eddie plants his feet and steps back even. He looks back down to watch himself pump in and out of that pretty pink pout. and it’s so good, but he needs more. He cards his fingers through Steve’s hair, which gets his attention. Their eyes meet again, and this time, Eddie makes himself gaze back. His hand falls to the side of his face as his head bobs rhythmically. His thumb brushes over his cheek, his fingers cradle his wide-open jaw, and it feels like Steve leans into his palm. Eddie shakes his head quickly, moves his hand back into Steve’s hair, and holds onto it. And it brings the current events to a slower pace.

Steve opens his mouth wide, extends his tongue out, and laps at the underside of the head of his shaft in a sort of come hither motion with the tip of his tongue, but Eddie does something else. He grips more tightly onto his hair and drags Steve towards him and off the bed until he’s on his knees. Steve doesn’t complain. Smiles even, with his tongue still hanging out, desperate for its next taste.

With a firm grip, he tilts Steve’s head back a little so he can see his face as he tugs hard on his hair, pulling him towards him forcefully until he gags and pulls him back off again. Looks down at him and raises an eyebrow in question as Steve catches his breath. He smiles up at him and drops his mouth open again, letting his tongue hang to his chin. Eddie slowly drags him by his hair up and down, repeatedly, occasionally forcing Steve’s nose to be pressed hard into his thatch of curls and held there, choking, his throat squeezing around Eddie as he does before he’s forced off of it again. He lets Eddie wield him like a plaything. And soon, that’s not enough either. Eddie finds himself gripping the sides of Steve’s hair, observes the grey tear stains rolling down his face, the drool pooling at the corners of his mouth, and by the gods, Eddie wishes he had his camera right now. And he thinks about it, about pounding himself into Steve’s face until oblivion, until he’s spent, leaving Steve hard and unsatisfied, but he finds his hand trailing over his face again. Whatever he was trying to prove, he felt like he’d just done that. Now, he wants something else. He wants to hear Steve fall apart.

He cups Steve’s jaw gently, encourages him to stand, and once up, he wipes at his face a little. He wants to ask him if he’s ok, but he knows he shouldn’t. He smooths his hands down his back until Steve takes matters into his own hands. He swiftly turns them around, deeply kissing Eddie as he does so, walking him back towards the bed. He feels the back of it hit his knees and sits down as Steve finally frees himself of his pants but doesn’t give Eddie much of a show about it all. Before Eddie has even had a chance to perceive how perfect his dick might be, Steve has clambered onto the bed too. He crawls up Eddie until their mouths slot together again, as one of Steve’s hands presses against his chest, encouraging him further back until he hits the headboard.

He finds himself caged between Steve’s arms, pressed against one another without a safety barrier of fabric. Desperate kisses move south to become more languid and wet at his throat, which chills him when Steve intermittently huffs out a breath over the sites of desire as his hips roll down into his own, causing delicious friction between them.

Steve moves lower but scoops his arm behind Eddie’s back, arching his chest upwards to dip his head and trail his tongue, which he wields like a demon, over it. He mouths over his stiffened nipples as he finds them, kitten licks them, chances a drag of teeth over them, as his lower position has him slowly thrusting against Eddie’s thigh. With each roll of hips, Eddie watches him slowly coming undone. Controlled deliberate kisses turn into him sucking down on Eddie’s skin, placing fresh areas of burst blood vessels next to the less recent ones. Ones from pleasure next to ones from pain. Calculated nips at his torso become full bites that linger to quieten his moans as they seep under Eddie’s skin.

Whilst it’s thrilling to watch Steve fall from grace as he uses Eddie as a means to get there, and it feels fucking fantastic, he wants it to be him that does it. He wants it to be him that pushes Steve over the edge. Up until the fight earlier, he’d been entirely sure that this guy was as straight as they come, but from what Eddie had witnessed so far, that was absolutely not a possibility. He’s done this before. Maybe countless times. Maybe with other guys like Eddie? Maybe with guys more like himself who both have to keep it quiet? Something hideous squirms inside him unpleasantly at the thought.

He captures Steve’s chin on the knuckle of his index finger, lifts his head, and receives a dopey smile. Eddie hasn’t seen him take anything, yet he looks pretty out of it, “You ok?” He asks, even though he knows he shouldn’t, but he doesn’t want to be doing any of this with someone out of their gourd.

“Mmmhmmm,” he nods on the crook of Eddie’s finger and smiles lazily.

“Did you take something?” he asks plainly, scanning him for clues.

Steve shakes his head and crawls forward so their noses brush against one another, “The only thing I want right now is you,” his voice trembles as he leans in for another kiss. Eddie's stomach flips, which he can’t help feeling is very inappropriate.

That isn’t what this is, he reminds himself.

He pushes him back to break the kiss and runs his fingers over Steve’s lips, cuts and bruising included, before hooking two of his fingertips inside his bottom lip and gently pushing them further into Steve’s mouth. Eddie almost shudders at how obediently he opens his mouth wider with a nudge of his hand. He doesn’t even have to ask. He adds fingers, letting Steve suck down on them until he feels it’s enough.

He lowers his saliva-soaked hand between them and reaches for Steve first. Rolls his palm over the head before sliding his fingers easily down the shaft until he has him in his grip. At first, his strokes are slow and soft, not for Steve but for himself. He watches Steve’s eyes close, his breathing deepens and shudders, still on all fours hovering over Eddie, his fists clenched against the bedding, as his head drops forward against Eddie’s shoulder. He quickens his pace and tightens his grip until Steve is just a series of cut-off guttural noises in his ear. Then he lets go, takes himself in hand, and lazily moves his hand up and down. Their proximity means that the back of his fingers occasionally bump against Steve’s shaft. Maybe sometimes he stretches his fingers out so the contact is for longer, just so he can hear those whimpers in his ear again that are swirling around his head, disorienting him from his goal. He hadn’t realised how much faster he’d gotten, like Steve’s delicate whispered exhales reverberating through him were speeding him up. Soon enough, he finds his own moans intertwining with Steve’s.

“Fuck, you sound good.” Steve manages, and his first instinct is to quicken his pace further, let Steve’s voice ring in his ears as he succumbs to pleasure himself, but somehow he resists. Turning his attention and hand back to Steve, and the gasp in his ear, he’s sure he’ll be able to recall until the day he dies because his name is whispered out immediately after.

He must have heard Steve’s voice in his ear hundreds of times before, listening to his music and interviews before everything went wrong. He remembers how thrilling it had been to hear his whispers on record or the bits a live recording would catch before and after a song, and now Eddie was collecting his own, all just for himself, never to be released or shared with anyone else.

From the corner of his eye, he notices Steve’s arm shaking, the one Eddie had to beat his way free from. He sits up a little, taking the weight from his arm upon himself, and maybe it’s an act of compassion too far. Perhaps he should have waited until he’d collapsed because he feels his eyes on him again. He can’t help but glance, and he’s greeted with a snapshot of brutalised perfection. His lips, cheek, and one eye are swollen and reddening, but his jawline is still perfectly angular, the beauty marks still decorate his skin, his long lashes flatten out against his cheek when he blinks dumbfounded, maybe even a little surprised, mouth dropped open letting stuttering breaths pass freely. Eddie takes a mental snapshot. A pang of fleeting guilt runs through him, but entirely by chance, it’s interrupted.

Steve’s hands quickly reach out to clumsily hold Eddie’s face. His palms on his cheeks almost squeeze a little too hard, pulling him towards him, but the fingertips in his hair, caressing his scalp and the lips that ravenously meet his, make him forget to breathe.

The sea of sin Eddie had been cannonballing into and happily disrupting the surface of suddenly didn’t feel like his safe space anymore. Occasionally a shadowy something below the surface reaches out. Threatens to drag Eddie down with it. He wonders how long he’ll have the strength to escape its grasp.

Eddie adjusts his position a little, doesn’t pull away from Steve, gets closer so he can take them both in hand, slides his hand over them both, takes his time, and thumbs over the top of them for any droplets of added lubrication he can find. The moans passing into his mouth grow louder. He opens his eyes to see Steve’s brow knitted together, his eyes no longer softly closed but screwed shut. Eddie moves faster, and Steve pulls back. A string of curses leave his mouth, “Shitshitshitshit.” He quickly moves out of Eddie’s grip with a hiss, “Fuck!”

“Something…wrong?” Eddie teases a little. Steve shakes his head, looks down at himself, wipes his hand over his face, and laughs a little. “If you wanna stop, put your big boy pants on and say so, Harrington.”

Steve’s smile fades, and his mood switches. “I never fucking said that. If you…” he starts, and whatever was about to leave his mouth makes him cower back down, “I-I didn’t say that, that’s all.”

Eddie can’t guess what he wants to say but wants to know, “My mistake.” He offers, and Steve looks up at him again, hopefully. Eddie hops off the bed and retrieves the wallet from his jeans. On return, he props himself up with pillows, tips out a bunch of lube sachets and condoms from his wallet and then tosses it onto the floor somewhere.

Eddie tears open a lube sachet with his teeth and squeezes it over his cock and hand. The cold sting of it makes him bite down on his lip to hold in a reactionary noise. He hitches up his knees and makes eye contact with Steve as he pleasures himself. The slick glide soon has him breathing more heavily, and like a moth to a flame, Steve is soon stalking his way back up the bed, looking between Eddie’s face and his display. Eddie stills his hand, sighs, and looks expectantly at Steve, “If I what?”

“If you…” Steve starts, and Eddie starts pumping his fist again. “If you hadn’t got laid in this long” He catches on pretty quickly as Eddie quickens his pace, lets his growling moans out freely, and watches how it makes Steve’s dick twitch when he does. Maybe he over-performs a few to wind Steve up further. He then exhales slowly as he squeezes the base of his shaft and stops again.

“What are you just playing Yahtzee with your friends in your playroom, Harrington? Is that it?” Eddie chuckles, and Steve looks a little conflicted.

Steve takes a hard swallow of what must be his pride and talks directly to Eddie’s glistening dick, “I might as well have been,” he starts, and so does Eddie, “I haven’t been able to, um, you know” Eddie pumps himself faster, trying to make the most lurid noises with the lube and an occasional exhale of a moan from his mouth. Steve is silent, quietly inching his hand towards himself. Eddie slows again, raises an eyebrow at Steve when he looks at his face, “Fuck, I mean, I thought it was gone for a year or something. Until…well, tonight.”

And now many pieces are slotting into place for Eddie, why he’s so desperate and needy. Letting Eddie use him, why he pulled away, he doesn’t know if this is a one-off or not, and not just with him but his own body too. He wants the works, and though Eddie really shouldn’t have any pity for him, he feels a spark of it.

“Lie back,” Eddie says, and Steve double-takes.

“What?” He frowns.

“Don’t what me, asshole. Come up here, and lie fucking back, Steve!” Eddie performatively snarls, and he sees the corner of Steve’s mouth twitch up as he ungracefully hurries to obey.

He straddles Steve’s thighs, pinching them closed between his own and transfers most of the lube still on his hand onto Steve’s thigh ungraciously. Nothing too exciting for him right now, not yet.

He leans over him, careful not to create too much friction between them. Brackets Steve's broader shoulders with his arms and returns to how they started. Urgent kisses, wandering hands, teasing tongues. Walks a series of gentle bites along his jaw, licks at his throat, and sucks down onto his skin, leaving his mark as he travels down, making a kiss or lurid lick pitstop at every beauty mark and tattoo he finds. Pulls gently at the nipple piercings with his teeth and soothes over them after with the wetness of his tongue. Traces over every muscle dip until he gets to those hip bones he’d promised himself earlier. Steve writhes like the reptile he is under him as he mouths over them. Eddie might be getting a little too into it and reaches down to give himself some much-needed touch before moving down further, resting his chin on Steve’s thigh and looking up at the dewy-eyed, breathless creature above him.

Eddie observes him and waits for his attention before blowing gently on the moistened tip of Steve’s dick. He watches Steve’s craned neck release and throws his head back into the pillows, “Jesus!” he breathes into the air above him.

Eddie waits a little while until his breathing slows before hitching up Steve’s knees and separating them so he can lie between them. He trails a mixture of wet kisses and teeth drags along the inside of his thighs, watching his body constantly, ensuring it’s enough to keep him in that sweet spot but never too much.

He tests a slow trail of kisses along his solid shaft, which, on closer inspection, as Eddie had predicted, was indeed as perfect as the rest of him. It would almost be annoying if Eddie wasn’t having such a good time.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Steve moans as his hands grip onto the bedding. Eddie smiles. This is what he’s after, keeping him right here until Eddie decides to push him across the line. He wets his lips and pushes himself onto his elbows, admiring the gift before him as Steve settles down again. Then, he licks a fat stripe with the flat of his tongue from base to tip, and Steve jolts. He flicks the tip of his tongue along the slit to collect what is pooling in it and watches Steve’s back arch off the bed. Gods, Eddie wishes he hadn’t done that. He tastes delicious. So fucking good, Eddie is trying to spread the tiny droplet around his tongue so he can savour every aspect of it, and that makes Eddie lose sight of what he’s supposed to be doing. His hand rushes down to fuck into his own fist as he takes Steve wholly into his mouth until the tip of it threatens his throat. He just about hears Steve’s broken-off ahs and chanting of his name over his own guttural moans caused by hollowing out his cheeks and letting his tongue massage the underside of the throbbing cock in his mouth. Strong hands grip his shoulders, pull him out of his trance, and he releases him with an audible pop.

Steve’s chest and face are sweetly flushed as he’s gasping for air, and then the knitted brow falls into a content expression once he’s calmed again.

Eddie reaches over him to grab a few more lube sachets and a condom, but as he does, Steve desperately grabs at him again, pulling him in for another kiss, and Eddie isn’t sure it’s because he’s so damn close himself, but it makes his head spin, almost drops what’s in his hands. It’s not a hard, rough kiss like before, but it has passion and want all the same.

“Turn over,” Eddie says gently as he encourages him back down to the bed. Steve stalls for a second. Eddie figures he’s misheard, “Turn. Over.” he repeats softly, and this time he meets the request, “Just so I’m clear, this past year, you haven’t fucked anyone but has anyone fucked you?”

“No,” he answers quickly, though the pillows slightly muffle it, and Eddie has to bite his lips together to not whimper with anticipation as he sits behind Steve, rips open another packet of lube, and observes this new angle. The huge wolf tattoo he’s seen plenty of times, and the text stamped at the base of his spine he’d seen twice before partially, but now Wild Thing had an entirely different meaning.

Sachet, still hanging out his mouth, Eddie has an idea. He wraps an arm around Steve’s waist and pulls him onto his knees so his peach of an ass is raised in the air. He runs his hands up Steve’s back and out to the sides so he can hold his arms. Trails his fingers down them until he has hold of Steve’s hands and brings them around so he can spread himself for him, and he wordlessly obeys as Eddie takes off his rings.

He generously applies the lubricant to Steve and himself, secretly relishing in every exclamation or body spasm from the man before him.

He touches the pink puckered flesh, circles it gently, listens for the melody of moans he’s conducting and feels infinitely harder with each one. Waits for that magic moment when Steve backs up towards him, eager for it. Eddie pushes his finger inside and holds it still for a while as Steve’s body tenses, accompanied by a hiss until he finally relaxes. Relaxes might be a strong word because the way he’s clamped around Eddie’s finger makes him wonder if this would be possible at all.

Steve pushes back again, taking him deeper, and honestly, Eddie is impressed with how keen he is but does a quick glance of a check anyway. Steve’s face is side on, pushed into the pillows, panting heavily. He thinks maybe it’s enough. He’s had his fun, he’s already a mess, but Steve catches him looking, “What’s the holdup, stud?” he mumbles out, pushes back again, and that pisses Eddie off. Fine. He was just trying to be courteous, being fond of switching it up himself. He knows how it feels on the other side of things, but fuck it, right? Steve doesn’t give a shit.

Eddie does, however, and he’s not letting this debauched freak drag him down to something he’d regret. So he continues loosening Steve up, sometimes, to be spiteful, excruciatingly slowly, delighting between the switching Steve’s whines of frustration and groans of ecstasy as his fingertips meet the spot he knows is making him see stars.

When he’s primed to Eddie’s satisfaction and squirming in the hotel’s bright white sheets, a pathetic begging mess of a man, Eddie reaches around and quickly gives him a few firm strokes, making him huff out into the pillows. Eddie returns his fingers to his mouth for another taste, like an amuse-bouche before the main event.

He taps the sheathed head of himself at the tight entrance, pushing Steve’s hands away, and amuses himself by sliding over it a few times because it feels exquisite and drives Steve insane. He waits like a predator stalking his prey, waiting for Steve’s frustration to reach its peak. He waits for Steve to turn around with a frown, pushes the tip of himself inside as they lock eyes, wipes the scowl right off of it, and takes his breath away.

Eddie would love to smugly smile back, but he’s gripping Steve’s sides for dear life. Jesus Christ, he was tight. He stays perfectly still. Which alone is making him start to sweat. He pushes himself deeper. Another x-rated groan from Steve and clenching around him almost has him retreating entirely. A strange jealousy sweeps over Eddie. All those noises from Steve were supposed to be his. He wraps his arms around Steve’s torso, coaxing his back to press to Eddie’s chest. Steve almost panics when he realises his weight might slide him down quicker than he wants, but Eddie holds him tightly until he’s found a comfortable squat, “There you go, sweetheart, take your time,” he croons slyly in his ear.

And Eddie expects this evident pain slut to impale himself on his dick, but that isn’t what happens. His arms that are wrapped around his torso are mapped over by Steve’s, their fingers become intertwined, and as he turns so, they are face to face again. The grey streaks of eyeliner-saturated tears and tenderness take Eddie entirely off guard and snap him out of his attempted cruelty. He couldn’t figure this guy out at all.

This close, he can see that no photograph would do his eye colour justice, not without editing, and where is the reality in that. Eddie gets lost in the pigments, getting bullied to the edges of his iris by his dilated pupil or looking at the beauty marks on his face that aren’t hidden by the blemishes he caused.

Before he can say something clever or push him away, he finds his bottom lip trapped between Steve’s teeth. He pulls and drags his teeth over it as he sinks down a little more. It’s released when a groan threatens to escape Steve, which Eddie swallows down in a kiss and feels the fingers intertwined with his squeeze tightly.

Eddie senses the danger now, but it happens in fits and starts because, in between the warning signs, his pleasure centres are blocking out any logical functions. Eddie knows he’s treading water, the shadowy thing licking at his heels, making its presence known but never quite revealing until it disappears again. He wonders if Steve feels it, too. If he feels like there isn’t just hate and lust here. He hopes to any deity listening that it is simply his hormones talking nonsense. That he’s merely just in the heat of the moment.

Steve pushes down again, and Eddie is in to the hilt. He’s clenched around him tightly and overwhelmed by sensation, and Eddie gives in. He softly sighs into another kiss and almost forgets why he’s doing any of this in the first place. Almost. It’s the roll of Steve’s hips and the whimper of “Fuck Eddie. You feel so fuckin’ good.” That pulls Eddie entirely out of his trance, reminding him of the aim here,

“Good.” he purrs in his ear before untangling their hands and pushing him back down to the bed.

Initially, the pace is slow, deep and deliberate as his fingers grip tightly onto Steve’s hips, and Eddie is just enjoying watching himself disappear inside him when Steve decides to say something stupid.

“Is this how you fucked that guy at the hotel?”

And in that one question, everything comes flooding back to Eddie again. The reason he’d stayed at the hotel, the reason he had to come crawling back to work with Harrington, everything he’d lost.

With an absence of a reply, he tried to jog Eddie’s memory, “The one that looked like I used to?” As if implying that Eddie fucks so many people in hotels he’d not know which one he was talking about. It makes Eddie's lip twitch into a discrete sneer.

“No, but I probably should, shouldn’t I? Treat all you sluts the same, right?” Harrington’s body tenses under his touch as he pushes him around, making him arch more and his legs spread wider. He grabs his wrists and pulls them behind his back, landing him face-first into the bed again. Eddie tugs on his wrists, pulling him into a stretch almost. He starts thrusting again much faster this time, enough to make Harrington’s groans waver with each one, “He was beautiful, wasn’t he? Actually had some meat on his bones, something to really dig my teeth into. Something that I thought about for days later, and thank the gods for you bringing him up now, Harrington, because I get to think about him all over again whilst I fuck you wide open.” Eddie goes for broke and wants to make Harrington feel like dirt, like nothing, that he's lost it all in this moment.

Eddie sets a relentless pace. There is no talking now, just the sound of skin on skin, an occasional curse word from Eddie and Harrington’s muffled groans as he bites down on a pillow. With every noise, he fucks into him harder to shut him up until he’s just a set of stunted breaths, and Eddie becomes a sweaty grunting mess.

Harrington’s noises go up an octave as Eddie lets go of his arms and adjusts his position. And soon Eddie, hearing his name chanted again in a mixture of curse words and blasphemy, knows he’s got him where he wants him.

“My god, Eddie, fuck,” Harrington babbles. “I’m so close, Eddie, please” And fuck does he think about stopping right there, but he’s achingly close himself. Only a staring competition between this fucking giant wolf on Harrington’s back was helping.

Eddie spits in his hand, reaches around to spread it over Harrington’s length, and takes one of Steve’s hands and places it there, “Go ahead, Harrington, make a mess of yourself,” Eddie says with a slight mockery in his voice.

Harrington doesn’t need telling twice. Eddie watches his arm move in time with his thrusts and with a screwed-up face and a strained “Jesus. Fuck” Harrington spills with a loud exhale, and Eddie slows to a stop and pulls out as Harrington’s body stutters before it goes limp. He’s desperately near cumming himself, but he wants the full view. He rolls Harrington over so he’s lying in his own cum, picks up some on his fingertips and decorates Harrington’s lips with it whilst he’s trying to catch his breath. He then repositions himself between his legs and hooks them over his shoulders.

Harrington looks down but can’t form a response. He just slams his head back into the pillows behind him in blissed-out exhaustion. Eddie reinserts himself easily and leans right forward, bringing Harrington’s knees nearly up to his shoulders and leans down to messily lick over his lips as he rears his hips back only to slam them back down, a guttural winded noise leaves Harrington, and Eddie grins, looking down at this picture perfect fucked out freak underneath him.

Eddie wedges a hand between them and runs his fingers over his length to see if he’s got anything left or just to overstimulate him. He gets the latter, some amiable noises, turning into things on the edge of expressing pain, but he’s not doing a single thing about it. He slams into him again, and this time, the gasp comes with a sigh of enjoyment. Eddie continues to pick up the pace as he watches Harrington’s face contort underneath him.

And Eddie starts to lose himself. He closes his eyes as they roll backwards at the pleasure he’s feeling course through his body. He whimpers and moans, curses the gods, curses Harrington. The sweat is dripping from him as he closes in on the finish line. Steve’s hands on his face make him finally open his eyes. He’s brushing the curls and sweat from his face between huffed-out noises from Eddie’s jackhammering.

“You’re so fucking, hot, Eddie,” Steve sighs out as one of his hands reaches in between them. Finds Eddie’s hand to jerk off Steve together. “Are you gonna cum for me?” He manages before his brows push together, and he moans loud and long. In his pre-climax state, Eddie leans forward to capture his sounds for his own.

“Mine.” He growls through gritted teeth as his hips rut faster into Steve.

Steve’s unoccupied hand cradles his jaw, “Yours,” he whimpers out, and Eddie’s insides, already buzzing with adrenaline and imminent climax, completely somersault. “That’s it baby, cum for me.” he urges Eddie on, and stupefied by hormones and sensations, Eddie wholeheartedly agrees.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum so hard for you, sweetheart,” Eddie pushes through his teeth.

And that has Steve in a real mess, his arm moving much faster. Eddie watches him babble incoherent things, his eyelids flutter, and tears spill out as he cums again between them.

This was everything Eddie wanted. He had finally broken Steve Harrington, maybe not in all the ways he wanted, but certainly in an unforgettable way.

As Eddie's most satisfying climax is seconds away, a broken Steve paints Eddie’s lips with his cum covered fingers, “Mine,” he hiccups as the tears spill out of his eyes, and he reaches up for a kiss as Eddie's hips stutter against him and he careers off the edge into complete euphoria.

As Eddie slowly comes down, he finds himself repositioned, held in Steve’s arms, fully collapsed against him, slow kisses being gently applied all over his lips and a hand in his hair.

Still catching his breath, Eddie raises his eyes to his. With their chests heaving, for some reason, they both laugh, and Eddie sees a side of Steve he’s not encountered before that maybe he’s seen glimmers of. When he laughs, he holds on to himself, and his eyes almost completely disappear from view because the apples of his cheeks are pushed up so high, even though there isn’t much to them these days. There is only silence or the sounds of their breathing for a while.

Eddie finds himself back where this started, staring at another ornate ceiling. His heart still thudding in his chest, he chances another glance over at Steve, only to look away quickly because he was already being observed. Steve’s hand gently plays with his hair, “We should probably clean up before they get here. Make it just look like a fight.” Steve’s voice is quiet and rough, but Eddie thinks he can hear a little sadness, too.

“Before who get here?” Eddie asks in confusion.

“Whoever the label sends when they get wind of this.” He sighs, “Damage control. To make sure you aren’t gonna leak anything. To remind me to behave myself, maybe teach me a lesson,” Steve pats him, sits up, takes the condom off Eddie, ties it up, and then starts gathering the wrappers before heading to the bathroom. Eddie hears a flush before he returns, “Come on, get up,” he says kindly with a smile, “gotta get this in the laundry shoot asap.”

Eddie can see him favouring one arm over the other as he tries to gather up the bedding. He winces occasionally but makes no sound of pain. He just tries to bundle everything up as Eddie watches the melancholy work its way over him. The Harrington of it all makes Steve disappear again. “Here, let me do that,” Eddie pretends to be annoyed as he bumps Steve out of the way to take over, “Goddamn rockstars got no clue about chores, obviously” he bundles everything up in his arms, “Where is it going?” Eddie looks at him like it’s the biggest inconvenience in the world, but Steve just stares for a second before silently pointing him to the private shute. Eddie heads towards it, calling back, “Let me know when you're done in the shower.” as he shoves the material down.

But the reply is closer than he expects, “You can wait if you want, but there’s room for two,” Steve says, looking between Eddie and random objects around the room. Steve swallows, “Or you know more? I’m pretty sure I’ve had four or five in there at a squeeze before,” with that, he walks away, saying, “You know, saving the planet, Eddie, not wasting water or whatever.”

He’s frozen in deliberations with himself, can feel that shadowy thing lurking closer now, and senses the danger of where his endorphins are taking him, but he’s also curious about Steve’s behaviour now. Was he afraid of the label?

Eddie resolves to take a chance. If what he said was true, this could be their last few minutes or hours together, the final opportunity for information for his book. He quickly shoves the material down and ensures it has not got stuck on the way. And follows the sound of running water.

He eventually finds the lavish bathroom. For a moment, he is confused that he can’t see a shower but can hear one until he realises another part of the room is around the corner. He pokes his head around, and the sight that meets his eyes is not what he expects. Steve's forearms and fists against the wall, his forehead pressed against the tiles, and his body slightly hunched over as it shakes like he’s sobbing. Eddie retreats quickly and thinks about leaving entirely. Was it because of what he’d done? Fuck he’d wanted to get revenge so badly he’d forgotten there was a human inside. What had his anger led him to become? Another bully, another vile person in a despicable place.

Eddie swallows down his emotions and resolves this was enough, he’d gotten something, which wasn’t everything but better than nothing, and maybe if he could fix this with the label, he’d get his career on the up again. He nods at no one and steels himself, “Steve, are you in here?”

“Y-yeah,” Steve replies, and Eddie gives him a few seconds to compose himself before strolling in like he’d seen nothing, putting on a show, looking around the area and whistling.

“Wow, this is truly fancy, huh?” He smiles, and Steve mirrors it as best he can and pushes open the door for him.

“This is the presidential suite.” Steve jokes and that’s the last thing said between them. They shower in silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward. Steve occasionally hands him a bottle of product. He doesn’t look at him when he does; he just holds it in his eyeline to take. Eddie notices the hair products are specifically for curls.

Steve gets out, towels himself, and sits in the chaise lounge. Eddie goes to grab a towel from the pile, but before he can, Steve hands him one from a rack, and it’s warm to the touch.

As Eddie dries off, he can see Steve examining the aftermath in the mirror. Poking at his face and body, wincing occasionally. Eddie joins him in the reflection.

“Shit, man, I’m sorry. I lost it,” Eddie tries.

“I deserved it,” he says back simply before checking over his teeth, which makes Eddie feel terrible. He looks at the floor and goes to leave, “I started it on purpose, Eddie. You tried to walk away.” Steve says as he continues to look in the mirror.

“Yeah, well, I should have just kept walking, shouldn’t I?” Eddie says solemnly.

“I wasn’t gonna let you walk out of there without hitting me.” He says, running a comb through his hair, which he hands to Eddie as he catches up to him.

Eddie plays with the comb between his fingers and leans against the hallway wall, “Do they do this often?” Eddie asks.

“Who? Do what?” Steve asks, a little confused.

“The label about people you spend time with,” Eddie says vaguely, not looking up from the comb teeth he’s running his thumb over.

He hears Steve sigh, “Look, as you’ve probably guessed by now, I’m not as straight as I’m portrayed, ok? They want me to stay that way. That’s what keeps me making money. If I were to come out, it would ruin the whole thing. So no, they don’t normally do this because I don’t normally do this. Buckley usually keeps me in line, not because she wants to, but because I ask her to,” he pauses, “and sometimes I ask her to turn a blind eye, when we’re away, when there are fewer company spies, but usually, that’s for five minutes or so, at some no coverage allowed party, you know?”

“Why don’t you just tell them to fuck off? You’ve got more money than you could possibly know what to do with.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just me, Eddie. It’s Buckley, Denise in PR, Fred in merch, and Gina in finance. Harrington isn’t just me. It’s a machine, and I’m just one cog everyone can see,” Steve says, “also, money can’t buy everything, or so I’ve found. Sometimes you gotta be in with the right people too.”

“Steve, you paid nearly a million to work with me. You’re telling me there is something millions of dollars can’t buy?” Eddie folds his arms and almost laughs.

“Do you, maybe, wanna stay over?” Steve asks, ignoring the question.

Eddie is surprised. Isn’t that what people typically say before sex rather than after? Was this guy insatiable? Did he want another round? No, he’s just made sure the evidence was gone.

“You haven’t gotta, I just thought maybe….I dunno. I guess I just don’t know what’s gonna happen, is all, and punches and fucking aside. I kinda like your company and, uh, though this isn’t your responsibility, I don’t really like waking up on my own. I mean, I could get Buckley to call someone in, but, um, they might ask questions,” Steve gestures to himself.

Eddie looks up at him, but he’s looking down and toeing at the carpet. Eddie huffs out a laugh, “Guess it beats walking past Buckley on my own right now.”

Steve raises his head, and there is a twitch of a smile, “Thanks,” he says as he disappears for a minute or two, leaving Eddie with his thoughts, before returning fully dressed, holding Eddie’s clothes and wallet. He takes the cut-up T-shirt, returns to the lounge area, and starts planning his crime scene as Eddie puts his underwear back on. He starts placing glasses and leaving drops of alcohol in them, spilling a little on the carpet and doesn’t tidy up any items cast on the floor. Partially fills two glasses and carries them through to bedroom further down the hall. He places a drink on each bedside table and hands Eddie a fresh T-shirt from his own clothes.

“You're gonna have to put it all back on, so it doesn’t look…well…gay?” And Steve bursts out laughing at that, and Eddie joins him. The bed is enormous, so there is no need to be close. They take a side each.

The lights go out, and it’s still and quiet again.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” Steve says.

“Goodnight, Steve,” Eddie says as he closes his eyes for sleep to take him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Songs that inspired this chapter: Touch Me I’m Sick - Mudhoney, Low - Foo Fighters, Closer - NIN, Last - NIN

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #rockstar!Steve Harrington #rockstar!SteveHarrington #photographer!Eddie Munson #photographer!EddieMunson #steddie au #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #fanfiction #steddie fanfiction #steddie fan fiction #madaboutmunsonITICHBS #madaboutmunson #enemies to lovers #alternate universe

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sstardustt3 · 4 days

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May I have Y/N babysits Kagekao, and Ben? Y/N has to deal with these these two bullies of Creepypastas. Y/N being mature adult that gives me a housekeeper vibes.

Authors notess- Holy shit this ended up way longer than I thought it would be um im so sorry to all of you for being gone for this long but umm good thing is summer break is soon and I might get my computer back so (yippeee!!)

Summery- y/n after an incident has to seek refuge in the creepypasta mansion and in exchange for staying rent free they work tirelessly as a housekeeper despite being treated like shit by almost everyone especially an ai named BEN and a mystery man named kagekao. One day everyone in the house is busy which leaves y/n and the two entities and then shenanigans ensue that might cost their job if they don’t figure it out

Or..

Housekeeper!reader babysits kagekao and BEN, shenanigans ensue

Tags- Ben and kagekao being little shits, Gn!reader, no use of y/n outside of the summary, slightly inspired by home alone???,gn!reader, reader is so done, mentions of other creeps (Toby, Nina, Jeff, Jane, sally, etc)-

Word count- 1.912k

!not proof read!

When you kill someone, are you supposed to have a plan? I mean i guess if it was pre-meditated than i suppose you would’ve thought it all out. Sad to say you didn’t. You barely realised you actually killed someone, even when you were cleaning the blood off you’re hands and burying the body you didn’t realise just what you did. But when you did, it hit you like a semi. What were you supposed to do? It was messy and the poor bastard lazily just got thrown into the river. They would be found eventually…shit you could barely remember their face. Either way you needed to leave before you were ever found out. You could fake your death and run to another state. Blame it on someone else, fake a disappearance. You could have but thst required too much preperation. You needed to leave now. But where would you go? If you left you wouldn’t have a job, you would have to have a fake id. Jesus, never did you know just how hard murder is. It requires a lot of thought, for the most part. You were at a loss, that when that damn thing came. Just at the right time. It spoke to you, and comforted you. It saved you from the undeniable fate that was awaiting you. It gave you everything you needed for your escape. A home, of sorts, a job. Although the job could have been a tad bit degrading to some, anything was better than watching the sobs of that mans family. Calling you a monster for what you’ve done, asking if you had any shame. Hoping for your dmise in that rusty cell, hoping that you die from being around oxodized metal 24/7. Being a housekeeper was ten times better than that.

It’s been around..nine months since you’ve started working there. No, working isn’t the right word. More like slaving away for a murder house all day. Slaving was defenintly a more fitting word. They had no respect for you, treated you like some type of dog. Sure some were nicer than others. Like that little girl sally and liu, sometimes jane. Some would ignore me like i wasn’t there and only called when they needed something, and a lot of them just pushed me arond and treated me like a stray dog. Can’t say i expected much out of them. Most of the people here deserved to rot in a mental faclity. But there were two spesfically, Ben and Kagekao, they treated you the worst. Ben was nothing short but an ass, he would just say the worst shit to upset you or make you uncomfortable and kagekao just like to try and get you to burst into tears or just get a rise out of you. Actually, that goes for both of them. They were absolute nightmares to be around and god forbid they’re around you the whole day. But you don’t seem to be gods favorite, that’s was made abudently clear when you wound up here in the first place. By some miracoulus luck, everyone had something to do. Which would normamly be amazing. Made your job ten times easier, but everyone was gone except ben and kagekao.

“Don’t you two have anything else to do? An assignment, a hobby, a job?”

“Hey we are doing our job sweetheart” ben argued quickly and kage nodded in silent agreement.

“Your job is harrasing me?”

you sighed as you dipped the mop into the water and started working on the kitchen.

“Oh wow, stupid over here finally grew a brain and figured out the obvious.”

he joked, giving you a harsh slap on your back. For a hologram, he hit redicously hard. But i guess thats the perks of being a virus who can alter almost anything about your self.

“Can you just say what you want instead of giving weird ass riddles.”

despite you’re wishes to god for today, just for today not to get some weird cryptic bullshit request, but you knew that was extremly unlikely

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

ben laughed, the sound of faint and grainy static invades his voice. You’ve learned from never being left alone by ben in particular what that meant, he already had some stupid humiliating request of you.

“It’s like that stupid little noggin’ there has nothing in it but cooking and cleaning.”

he began beating on your head like a wood pecker chipping wood. You took the split second that his hand became less digital and more like and object and attempted to reprimand him. It was odd to say the least. His skin felt thin and drenched, weather it was sweat or water you couldn’t tell since of now quick he disappeared and spawned away. His voice was undeniably delayed and his body glitched. There was a sense of nervousness in his voice.

“Heyyy- w-what do you think y-your doing?”

He chuckled

“Don’t put your d-d-d- dirty little hands one me okay? Is that so hard for you to under shit for brains, of course it is, probably because your brain is rotted with porn and maybe thats why you can’t even understand the most basic things.”

He chuckled and he was about to berate you more before kagekao got his attention

what the fuck are you doing”

“塩素ガスをバカにしてる。眠っているお人形にそれを与えることもできます。もう飽きてきました。”

“すべてをクソにするは飽きてしまいます。まだ計画にも達していないのに、捨てる気ですか？”

he said back with a scoff. Folding his arms and moving to where kagekao was and looked over his shoulder perched up like a cat. They said nothing for a solid thirty seconds until kagekao muttered something with a somewhat amused tone.

“すべてをクソにするのは飽きてしまいます。まだ計画にも達していないのに、捨てる気ですか？”

“Shut up you nasty little- you know if you were just honest I wouldn’t have to-”

“Hey, i’m still here just so you know. If you’re gonna sit here and try and kill each other, do it outside of my line of sight.” you said dissmisvly as you finished up what you were doing in the first place. They didn’t care enough about a word you were spouting but either way exited out of the kitchen

It was quiet for a while which was exactly what you needed, peace and quiet, no interupptions, no snarky remarks. Just wonderful silence. But a feeling lingered in the back of your mind that something wasn’t right about this. Complete dead silence In a house with ben in it was never a good sign. But there was nothing for you to really do about it, dealing with them is above your paycheck anyways. As you went upstairs to your room you heard some faint giggling and mumbling. You decided against your better judgement and pressed your ear against the door and listened.you heard a tv playing it sounded like..home alone and the slight sounds of hardwear and tools. You tried to push the door open a little more to see exactly what was going on You’re not very discrete because as soon as you did that ben’s voiced called out to you.

“ listen fatty, your number two from rasing canes isn’t in here if thats what your looking for.”

“そして彼らはなぜ自分たちがメガロドンのような構造をしているのか不思議に思っています。”

“What your just gonna sit there with your Quasimodo humpback whale looking ass? Move it.”

Jesus christ, and you wonder why you don’t jump off a damn cliff. You continue on your way and for a few hours you were good, the other creeps would be back soon, everything was fine. Maybe god has finally answered your prayers of having a somewhat peaceful day. until you heard…a megaphone?

“GREETINGS AND SALUTATIONS MY DEAR BUT THERE ARE MATTERS OF THE U-U-UP MOST IMPORTANCE TO DEAL WITH.”

The voice calling from the megaphone was robotic, eerily energetic. Almost manic. Without a shadow of a doubt it was Ben. You immedeatly knew it was something going to throw your entire day off. Maybe even cut your pay but it was either that or get harassed by the two which you most definitely didn’t want to deal with. Sure you’ve learned over the months you’ve been residing here how to handle them. At the end of the day they are not really all that harmful, to you anyways. But never the less you rush to the stairs to see kagekao and ben siting there with a megaphone and a bunch of supplies and chemicals, most likely stolen from cody.

“Now now, i know we haven’t haven’t had the best track record together , but hey just listen me and kage here have a little proposal for you.”

their eyes shifted towards each other with a cheeky smirk and giggle

“Your good at construction righttttt?”

He leaned forward all the way almost nose to nose with you.

“No.”

“Ah well, doesn’t matter. We need your help lowley human.”

Your eyebrow quirked up in aroused suspicion.

“With?”

“Well, we’re trying to murder-“

“No.”

You sharply stated rather bluntly

“But why..”

He whined like an infant, but never wiping that impish grin off his face.

“Listen okay if you hear us out on who-“

“No.”

“Let me speak you good for nothing slut!”

He snapped like how a rabid dog snapps it jaws at any sense of movement and then cleared his throat,

“It’s Jeff”

You were about to reject again but then thought about it. Sure you hated Ben and his silent antagonistic friend but Jeff was also a bigger pain in your ass. But on the other hand you’ll probably get a pay cut or kicked out…was seeing the pitiful look on his face really worth getting kicked out and possibly man hunted?

“まあ、厳密には彼を殺したわけではなく、ちょっとした娯楽のために彼に少し苦痛を与えただけだ”

You didn’t understand half of what he said. Kagekao spoke to fast for you to grasp a word he said but the only words you heard were ‘not technically killing him’ and ‘just a little pain’

“The bell do you mean just a little pain?”

You asked as your eyes shifted between the two of them. Kao almost looked a little shocked at your semi understanding and the fact you understood so quickly seemed to tick Ben off more.

“Since when did you understand Japanese?”

He asked in a way that you could tell he was holding back some minor jealousy and irritation.

“You think I wasn’t gonna try to understand the slew of letters sent to my room on the daily.”

Ben paused and looked between me and kage and shrugged.

“Well anyhow,do you think you could help with us hurting Jeff? He’s been pissing us off recently and we need a little help, give him a little scare.”

Kage simply snickered at the idea and Ben continued

“Hey, hey, hey-! Before you reject us again, we’ll pay you..”

That definitely caught your interest.

“With what?”

“Money.”

“How much?”

“5 thousand give to take.”

Ben has a real funny way of convincing people to Participate in his little schemes. Either that or the bar is in hell for you. But who says no to a fat stack of cash, not like you had anything better to do, but your job…

“Fine. I want cash up front though.”

“Deal.”

And like Jesus turning water into wine he took a loaf of bread out of his disgusting back pocket that was probably a breeding ground for diseases and turned it into your 5,000. You quickly snatched it and shoved it into your back pocket. With a delighted grin and the faith in the god lord that you would keep your promise you were dragged upstairs like a doll.

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 2 months

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When thinking of your trademark in your writing, I think it is the way you go into details and paint a picture for the mind's eye. The way you balance descriptive imaginations and realistic detailing is just very captivating.

Your art has a funky loose feel to the lining that just feels fitting to the enigma that is your brain, too full to truly poor it all out onto the paper no matter how hard you try. But boi do we love the attempts that give us any slightest peek into that brilliant mind of yours.

You clearly don't draw or write without thinking it over thoroughly.

Bwaaaaaaaa

Thank u! that's super sweet of you to say.

I do tend to overthink a lot of things.

I'm not very good at making like... Outlines or roughs of poses. I very rarely make base outlines, like I usually just start drawing and the rough sketch becomes the final lineart. So I often rely super heavily on references when I draw. For some reason over my 28 plus years of drawing, I never really gotten a grasp on how the torso, legs and fingers all really connect and form one entity. I know I could try with enough discipline and practice, as art is a skill. So I have this weird blend of like... Super confident lines, but not knowing how a torso, shoulders and legs connect which make a really interesting balance, and leads to things like this:

Like I can always see the framework of what I want, especially when little reference is used, but it really seems like nothing connects. Like the understanding of SHAPES is there, but not the understanding of how they are coherent together, if that makes sense? And you can kinda see that in my more high profile art, but I feel there was a period where It did click and I understood how it all connected but I forgot it all.

Like at some point, with these two, (rest in peace. the ship tag has not been updated since I left the naruto fandom) around 2019 I was getting it! Like I felt I was really getting it, Like I MADE THESE!!!! but then I kinda forgot it all. Like I still didn't use a base outline for these and did rely on heavy references, but I feel I was getting a grasp on shading and autonomy and how the human body works and fits together. And then it... Just kinda vanished from my brain, and I regressed to a more chibi simple art style. Either because it was easier, or because I was experiencing more chronic pain in my back and hand.

At the end of the day, I think my art style regressed a lot due to lack of practice, and lack of encouragement from outside sources besides the internet likes and reblogs like RL friends or Family. That, and I feel my attention span and patience for things has just gotten worse as I've gotten older. I'm guessing my Dad's death had a lot to do with that. As, I am over the loss of my Dad as a person. but mentally, I am not over coming the fact that mortality is very fleeting. You think I would spend most of my time living life to the fullest. But that isn't the case. I kinda feel like I've been stuck in that "What is the point of anything if anyone can die suddenly without warning for any reason" Stage of grief that I have NEVER really got over.

Needless to say my Dad suddenly dying with no warning due to a ruptured aurora was just something everyone was unprepared for. He wasn't sick from an illness, no one knew he was in poor health. It wasn't even a car accident. Like he just suddenly died cus part of his heart exploded essentially.

I mean, I know I rarely talk about it, other then mentioning "My Dad died Eight years ago. Haha I'm over it tho, it was awhile ago"

And, While I think I'm over it in the sense with, I'm at peace with always missing him a little bit, and don't think about him constantly... I'm not over it in the sense of how fragile mortality is and how it can be taken away. For no just cause or reason.

I guess I'm over it, in that I'm over that my Dad, the person is dead. I am NOT over the fact of HOW he died. And I think it'll be a long time till I cross that hurtle.

And yeah, that's a heavy part of life, that we all get old and die one day, but some people don't even get to grow old. you think it would make me more.... "make time with what you have, enjoy what you like."

but if anything, it makes me more fearful in "what is the point of doing anything if I were to die tomorrow, what have I done. Folks will miss me, sure. But I will still be gone." So then I just end up doing nothing for long periods of time, and that's mostly why my art skills suffer because I don't see the point of doing a discipline or working towards any goal whatsoever. And I'm just going through the motions. And yeah, sometimes, I will be super productive and be happy and do a lot of things for a bit, but they're always short lived moments and it's hard to stick to things.

Looool sorry if that's all just too heavy.

Oh, if this sounds too complaining... Or "pity party. Woe is me, Dana is Depressed again" ahahahah. Like, that's not the point of this. I mean, it's my blog and I can talk about my feelings I guess, and I feel that Depression, even before my Dad's death impacted my art journey. So I'm still trying to struggle to remain consistent in my endeavors.

Or I could just be lazy. XD That too. XD

Anyways... Moving on in terms of my writing style, that's very nice of you to say.

I am a deep appreciator of inner monologues if it wasn't obvious. I like to dissect what characters are thinking and I sometimes feel I overdo it, and justify every single action and breath they take by getting so close in their own head that there's hardly any breathing room for error.

But I just write how I tend to think in terms of Overthinking, so I don't think I've ever written a character from a close third person (or first person) perspective that hasn't overthought every action before they speak.

But usually within the context of the story, their inner monologue spanning 20 pages actually takes place in the span of less then a few seconds.

I don't think I could write from Bob's POV if I tried. He's a man of action rather then overthinking. And if I held his hand as a third person narrator, he would sho me off and do his own thing gladly without my interference. XD

Anyways. Didn't mean to get so venty on this ask.

Thank you so much for the lovely compliment. Also some insight into my process I guess. XD

#danachan's rants #danachan's asks #vent #mild vent #family death #danachan's art

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valc0 · 2 years

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What I wanted to know is how you do you feel about thasmin. I'm conflicted because

It was very rushed

Madip Gill is leaving which made it studid to get attached to the thought of it.

It felt like a cheap way to bring fan who probably don't care about the of the characters

I'm not going to lie and THIS IS MY OPINION but I think it's just Chibnall's poor one dimensional writing. And I'm not say all his work is like that because I quit enjoyed a few of his episodes.

There really wasn't much to support the ship. In context there was not much prior history about Yaz liking the Doctor.

Ok I'm not say Yaz isn't a person but she doesn't have much to go on but her star struck nature when she's around the doctor.

Those are my reason so far on why I'm not sure it's a good ship. But I'm only so many years old and I might not have the best take on this kind of stuff so yeah.

Before hand thank you for answering

I don’t think I can agree with all of what you said because, although you made some fair points, I think the concept of "bad ship" it’s flawed in itself.

There is no such thing as a bad ship. There are badly written relationship, and I agree with you on the fact that canon mistreated the potential of Thasmin tremendously, but I don’t think this makes the ship any less interesting or valid.

I’m sorry if I’m being pedantic and this is exactly what you meant and said "not a good ship" to get the point across, but I think it is important in this context to clarify, because it could very easily make Thasmin shippers feel bad or blamed for enjoying their ship, which is something I’ll never condone.

And I want to make something very very clear here.

A ship does not need the original creator’s blessing.

A ship doesn’t need its canon representation to be well-written to be valid.

A ship doesn’t need to be canon at all to be valid.

Ships and canon relationships are two separate entities and they shall remain like this.

I find the "ship not canon so not valid/badly written therefore bad in all ways" mentality terribly worrying, I’m seeing it increase in fandom spaces by the day, whether because studios caught on fandom trends and are disperdetele trying to please their audience (henceforth canonising the most popular ship rather than the one they were thinking abt in the first place), or because fans feel more involved in the creation of the canon material itself, leading to ship wars with real life stakes and prizes in the form of canonisation.

My personal opinion on Thasmin and Yaz in general is no secret. I don’t like the ship or the character, I personally find both boring and lazily put together. I think the ship came out of nowhere and was definitely written in after season one or even two. I even think they were trying to set up a Ryan/Yaz thing before they were even thinking abt Thasmin.

But you know what’s actually rad? Fan content!

Thasmin Fics and fanarts are single-handedly feeding this ship with dedication and depth, a depth that I’m bitter the show never gave us. And this would’ve never happened if someone forced themselves not to ship something because deemed bad or not deep or well written enough in canon.

I said it before and I’ll said it again.

Fuck canon. Canon is only the starting point, you, whoever you are, are the one that gives it meaning, whether by enjoying it in your own personal way with your own motivations, or by creating with its premises.

So what I’m saying is…you don’t have to enjoy it, I of all people (Thoschei trash and proud) will never foce you to, but if you feel like these characters are a case of wasted potential I’d give ao3 and the Thasmin tag a look, you might discover it ain’t that bad after all.

#reply #dw

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shinelikethunder · 1 year

Text

I posted 1,893 times in 2022

That's 350 more posts than 2021!

221 posts created (12%)

1,672 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@shinelikethunder

@cuntugolino

@deadpanwalking

@amarguerite

@calvinandhobbes

I tagged 1,705 of my posts in 2022

Only 10% of my posts had no tags

#supernatural - 307 posts

#hannibal - 236 posts

#fanart - 84 posts

#hannigram - 71 posts

#sandman - 70 posts

#twin peaks - 62 posts

#hellsite (affectionate) - 54 posts

#art - 50 posts

#will graham - 48 posts

#laugh rule - 47 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#'average meme dies in six weeks' factoid actualy just statistical error. average meme dies in 1 week. spiders georg‚ who lives forever on tu

My Top Posts in 2022:

very invested in the Hannibal s4 that only exists in my head where

okay

you know how season 3a is "hannibal tries to live without will" and season 3b is "will tries to live without hannibal" and they both fail miserably

i want a season 4a that's "will tries to go full murder husbands for hannibal" and a season 4b that's "hannibal tries to lay off the gratuitous murdering for will" and it somehow goes even worse

1,242 notes - Posted March 13, 2022

bold of SPN to not only give us a peek into both main characters' sex lives, but to make it a canonical characterization beat that the toughguy-projecting wannabe womanizer is a sweet earnest bottom in the sack and the babygirl-coded wannabe normie fucks like the world's kinkiest freight train

1,652 notes - Posted November 10, 2022

unfortunately, SPN fandom is as enamored of mundane AUs as every other goddamn fandom seems to be these days

noted gay angel Castiel is, as you may have heard, a celestial entity possessing some poor guy named Jimmy Novak

apparently standard practice when mundane-AUing Castiel is to just give him the surname of the guy he bodysnatched?

and since SPN angels are all referred to as siblings (and are, of course, highly normal about that) it seems pretty common to just slap the same name onto other humanverse'd angels too

in the middle seasons one of Castiel's endless procession of dickwad angelic bosses is named Naomi

now you gotta bear in mind that i was not thinking about ANY of this. my brain had to backfill it. while reeling after almost blacking out when i scrolled past this character tag:

2,093 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

seriously though, it's incredible how much of my "maybe titties again?" goodwill tumblr torched in 30 seconds through obnoxious UX alone:

i am browsing around in the android app. i see a post about disabling some new content filter. this is the first I've heard of it, even though my version of the app does turn out to have it - they put it in place before adding any mechanism to let me know it's there. strike one.

i go to settings > dashboard, the place where all the settings about what you do and don't see are supposed to live. no sign of it.

i go back to the settings menu. squint at it. see an unremarkable entry near the bottom called "Content you see" that isn't highlighted or marked as new in any way (even though i can't even visit anyone's blog anymore without having to actively tap past an FYI tooltip that can't be turned off, every single time, shilling weeks-old gift features that I've already used)

...oh, that's where my custom tag and keyword filters went. no prior indication they'd even been moved!

i have a lot of filters set up. like. a LOT. i now have to scroll past every single one of them, tag AND keyword, uncollapsed and unabridged, just to see whether there's another setting hiding underneath. on mobile! even the desktop site is more polite than this, jesus

just to recap so far: the only reason i even know to look is that i saw a random post about new content settings, and i would never have bothered with all that scrolling if i weren't crusty and paranoid about sites that hide vital settings in the depths of Menu Hell. i mean, that'd be crazy, right? surely listing all those filters with no collapse is a signal there's nothing worthwhile underneath them.

oh no wait, there they are!

it's not just one toggle, it's FOUR new settings!

all of them are set to "hide everything and never even let me know it was there"

even though there is a "blur" option that would've let me know that stuff was being hidden from me without actually showing it

even though i have, in the past, gone into every iteration of the adult content settings that tumblr has ever rolled out and affirmatively ordered it to show me the titties

THEY ARE NOT TOGGLES. EACH ONE OPENS A SEPARATE MENU SCREEN. every single one of the FOUR new settings needs like 3+ taps in the android app just to put it back to normal.

does turning on the catchall "mature content" setting cause the three more specific ones to default to "show" and let me pick restrictions as needed like a goddamn adult? NOPE, i have to go into the stupid little menu for every single one

it's almost like you didn't want me to find them and, having found them, wanted to make me pay as high an annoyance tax as possible to opt out of being nannied

the dashboard banner that eventually shows up, btw, says nothing about having been voluntold for additional filtering, and also just dumps you out in the general settings menu and leaves you to fend for yourself, with no indication of where this shit is hidden or what "this shit" even is. and that's downright friendly next to the link in the announcement post that's apparently been kicking people out of the app and onto web.

this is not how you get a rightfully mistrustful userbase to be optimistic about putting scarlet letters on their own posts. this is not how you convince anyone that it's just a courtesy, not a scarlet letter, or that it won't be used to punish and stigmatize you the instant the wind shifts direction.

in the most practical here-and-now terms, this is also not how you get people to USE the new content warnings on their posts! artists, especially, are hardly gonna jump to flag anything as mature if it means every single one of their followers - regardless of age, previous adult content settings, or whether they're in Apple's walled garden or not - has just been silently opted out of ever knowing it was there. (this goes double if it requires more than one sentence to explain how to reverse it. which this new setting seems almost deliberately designed to do.)

look, i want the titties back, okay? i would be delighted if this turned out to be the first step towards bringing them back. i know Tumblr is under duress from Apple that affects how they can do whatever they're doing here. but the way it's being rolled out sucks needless ass, and if they wanted my hope and trust, well, those are easier to muster up when I'm not going in grouchy about the frustrating UX of an app that's just taken hostile action against my prior explicitly-affirmed preferences.

2,103 notes - Posted September 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

hey you wanna see something beautiful? this is Elsevier's wikipedia page. the actual contents are even more brutal.

make enough sworn enemies out of academics, open access advocates, and freedom of information activists, and one natural consequence is: your wikipedia page will never again be a place of cozy low-profile positivity where you can drop "about us" copy directly from marketing and expect no one to care enough to challenge it

6,727 notes - Posted April 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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doorrobloxstuff · 9 months

Note

For your poly au, who was the one who was pregnant and birth the axolotl baby?

Disclaimer time-

Gonna change the name of this au because it’s not the poly au. The poly au is were the bedfic, and Ingens rapax takes place.

In that au, (the poly au!!) the A’s are unrelated to the main cast and are in the polycule. They aren’t siblings and are entirely different, unrelated characters from the ones in the main au. Shoutout to that one asker who put a nasty surprise in my inbox because they couldn’t fucking read or confront me about this. You caused me to dissociate + triggered me. And now I have to leave this stupid fucking note every time I talk about this au. <;/3

This au, the au were Axo child is born stems from the main au. Everything is the same but Seek, Rush, Ambush and Figure are dating and nobody else is in their polycule. The entire hotel isn’t dating each other like in Poly au. The A’s are siblings here.

For the sake of everyone’s sanity I’m calling this one the “Seekrushbushgure” au and changing their au tag to fit it instead of using the poly au tag-

Just..anytime you see something with Axolotl child in it. It belongs in this au and not the other one.

Tw//pregnancy ment and Warden is trying his darndest to scoot around anything graphic

Ambush. (Since anon mentioned that Axo child is a Figbush offspring-)

Poor Figure wouldn’t carry regardless, its body is pretty messed up post-Snare and the many attempts that came before it.

Snare is a miracle in itself. (Seek carried mystery entity + Screech and had no problems.) Though, it nearly killed Figure from bleeding..I’ll go into entity anatomy someday.

Usually, the most dominant OR most healthy OR most willing OR a combination of the two/three in the relationship hierarchy will carry offspring. (Dominant and Breedable.)

Ambush is (debatably) the best killer and most experienced (having carried the A’s and possibly..?? The twins??) so therefore.. ideal candidate.

Plus in the later months of being preggers it gives Ambush a nice little break from hunting and it can take all the naps and eat all the food it wants. <3

Pregnant entities very much still hunt btw. The danger does not go away and arguably increases when a baby is on the way because the parent wants to get as much food in storage as possible before they’re born.

Fun fact for the newer followers. Baby entities are almost parasitic to those who carry them. Slowly sapping their energy (this can actually kill the parent if they don’t have enough food + energy to sustain themselves.) so entities get super duper exhausted especially during later phases, so they will usually just take naps.

#author.txt #roblox doors #doors roblox #Seekrushbushgure au

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