#I have either a weird or shitty taste in music

[elleloquently]

could you do maybe something where ellie and reader knew each other from the boston QZ, and then they end up seeing each other again years later?? could genuinely just be a paragraph or headcanons if that’s what you’re feeling (writers block sucks) but you’re so good at describing things so i wanna see your POV with this 😭

| a/n : ur an angel for being so understanding. this is short n lowkey vague but i genuinely had fun with this so thank you for suggesting it!! <3 | c/w : swearing. mentions of weapons but no violence

half return - ellie williams

your eyes looked the same as they did when you were thirteen.

or, it would've been fourteen, the last time you had actually seen each other. but that had been a weird year, hadn't it?

still. your eyes were the same.

wide. thoughtful, but maybe that wasn't a good enough word to describe the look in your eyes now. bewildered was probably it, mixed with disbelief.

after all of these years, ellie would have to assume that there would be a sense of hardness to you. maybe something firm in your gaze, evidence of your life, whatever that had turned out to be.

instead, there was a certain softness to your expression. beneath the disbelief, beneath the shock. something soft, something so inexplicably you.

it made ellie sure, without a doubt, it was you. it had to be, right?

you were looking at ellie like you couldn't figure it out, couldn't decide whether or not the sight in front of you was real, and.. yeah.

it was you.

"holy shit," ellie breathed out, her words nearly inaudible.

her words, simple and quiet, snapped you out of your daze.

ellie's tone was nearly the same, just a little more mature sounding. you were transported instantly, back to when you were practically kids. ellie's voice would rise in defensiveness, arguing against riley in favor of her music taste, denying the claim that it was shitty. the sound of her now, so familiar and so different, filled the pit of your stomach with a strange ache.

your grip on the gun had faltered a little at the sight of her. you tightened it now, only to rid your fingers of their tremble. you wanted to speak, to say anything, but you still weren't exactly processing the sight in front of you.

apparently, you were still horrible at keeping your facial expressions at bay.

ellie caught it, the moment in which you had nearly stepped forward, your lips almost moving. but you had seemingly decided against it. you both remained still, eye contact never wavering. you were a few feet apart, and it was the closest you had been in years.

the sky was gray and overcast. evidence either of the rainstorm that had previously hit, or the hint of another soon to come. if you didn't move soon, surely you would be caught in it. everything always seemed to happen so fast, but time stood still now. it had only been a matter of seconds, but those seconds were weighted, dragging on with each passing moment.

ellie found herself wanting to hear your voice. she had forgotten it, except for a few vivid memories that lived in her mind. she found herself desperately needing to find out if it was the same voice that echoed occasionally in her mind, or if it sounded different entirely.

ellie's eyebrows knitted together, the crease of tension becoming apparent upon her features. as her gaze darted over your face, ellie felt guilty for writing you off.

but boston had been a shithole. and besides, ellie had cared about you. why wouldn't you be dead? another memory planted in her mental graveyard, the lingering whispers that only ever seemed to reach the depths of her dreams on the worst nights. any traces of you were always gone by morning.

but now.

now.

had ellie finally gone crazy? sometimes, maybe, she heard joel's voice. acknowledging it felt... weird. but she did.

but this? had she lost it? lost herself entirely?

it didn't make sense for you to be here. here, of all places. now. after all of these years.

ellie shook her head slightly, attempting to get a grip on her thoughts. she held her gun firmly, but it wasn't exactly pointed at you anymore. her free hand slowly raised, her palm displayed in an unsteady defensive. it was nearly muscle memory, but ellie was uncertain.

you both felt as though you were staring at a ghost.

"ellie?" you finally spoke, her name tumbling from your lips so easily despite not having uttered it in years.

ellie's stomach lurched, her eyes widening imperceptibly as you took a tentative step forward. she felt sick. unable to make sense of it, her name wrapped up in your voice felt terrifying all of a sudden, a reminder of who she used to be, a sharp pain of the past gnawing at her like a pit in her stomach.

her gaze followed your movements, but ellie otherwise felt frozen. the expression on your face was plain as day, but ellie still struggled to read it. no longer a young teenager, but she remained a little clueless, hopeless even at the obvious. she couldn't help it, though, her mind racing and blaring like confusing alarm bells in her head.

ellie had brutally lost the person in which she arguably cared the most about, and now you were standing there, a goddamn blast from the past. ellie could not comprehend it. how did you even end up here?

another small step forward, and you couldn't decide between keeping your weapon raised or discarding it entirely. it was ellie, after all. but she was a stranger now.

to anyone else, the situation might look like a standoff. ellie was painfully aware of the seconds ticking by, knowing they most likely wouldn't be alone for much longer. the others would catch up, ready to defend, ready to fight.

ellie found the phrase bouncing around her head already, ready to roll off the tip of her tongue in a panic.

not a threat. not a threat, not a threat.

because you weren't. you couldn't be, right?

"i thought... i thought you were-"

you cut yourself off with a sharp inhale that nearly feels dizzying. you thought ellie had been dead. or whisked away, running off to join the fireflies after all, ending up... who knows where. because one day, ellie had been gone. and for a long time, you had driven your young mind crazy trying to consider the possibilities, to make sense of the why.

"you're... it's.. i didn't-" ellie attempts, her voice nearly failing her.

the hand holding your gun falls to your side, and ellie nearly doubles over. she doesn't, though, and feels as though her knees lock her into place instead.

ellie's hair was a bit shorter. she didn't wear it in a ponytail anymore, apparently. but half of her hair was still pulled back. the same stubborn strands of hair still seemed to fall into her face.

you had missed her. you never wanted her to be dead. but you could never come to terms with the fact that she had left you, either. the only best friend you had ever really had.

ellie's gun was down now, and she looked like she wanted to move forward, but didn't know how. you took the liberty instead, your steps slow and hesitant before turning more brisk.

"oh my god," you managed, your words slightly hushed and strained.

the sight of you moving towards her caused ellie's stomach to flip. maybe it was finally hitting her, the distance between you closing with each step. ellie watched, frozen, the fingers from her free hand twitching at her side.

you were wary, but a million other things, too.

you stopped once you were just a few steps away from her.

ellie nearly looked exactly the same. just older. more tired. new scars. but you could see her, through her microexpressions, in the way that her eyes remained carefully trained on your own. you realized suddenly, that you didn't have it in you to treat her like a stranger, even though she essentially was one. you didn't have it in you to keep on guard.

it was ellie. your ellie.

you knew her best of all.

and you had so much to learn about her.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

drop the HWINEBHABWNAJCAHOWEEATOWEUB AU playlist 🙏 and my life 🙏🙏 is YOURS

------

Oh bestie, I listen to a weird amalgam of shitty 2000 trash pop music, indie music, and raunchy rap. My taste in music is absolute shite 💀- but I tried to whip up smth for you <3

I do not have spotify either, so have this youtube playlist instead! PLEASE feel free to add your own songs that you think fits the AU, you people's music taste are probably better than mine :]

[theloveinc]

any hobie and/or miguel icks? 😟

whoever sent this: thank you + i ADORE you. i hope you don't mind i'm switching up the formatting/style a it in comparison to my older icks... shorter list, more detailed <3

(warning: some fem terms used at the end, such as “mama!”)

-

Miguel O'Hara

- This guy... has some long ass toenails. Type of toenails that poke you at night in bed, and tear holes in his socks.

It's maybe somewhat related to the claw thing he's got going on? Has a lot stronger and faster-growing nails than the average person... but the real problem here is that he's TERRIBLE about clipping them. Claims it doesn't bother him even remotely and that you're the one overreacting when you ask him to... but hardly anything gets through to him about it. You probably even offer to do it for him one day, thinking the offer of a foot massage would sway his thinking and that it'd actually work... but he fought you on that just as easy...!!!

...which is how you came to the conclusion that you have a man who'll even argue w/ you over toenails. Petty boy.

- Miguel is also tired 24/7. AND yeah, it's pretty hard to be un-sympathetic towards that, but he's tired in the... I'm-gonna-prioritize-this-one-last-email-over-saying-goodnight-to-you way. Which gets real irritating when you're asking him to help you out w/ anything, like cleaning up or answering a question or JUST HAVING A DAMN CONVERSATION W/ YOU and he's using "I'm tired" as an excuse when his response is shitty or distracted.

Like one of those stupid guys whose always squinting at their damn iPad when you ask what he wants for dinner... which is ironic given that he'll get snippy at you for not giving him your full, entire attention whenever he wants it. Type of man to start picking imaginary lint off your head when you're simply trying to finish up a text before engaging him so that you aren't distracted.

- Odd about Lyla. Not that he loves her or anything, but she'll like pop up to give him updates about whatever even if you're MID-MAKEOUT session and he won't change that setting. Pulling away from your lips all pouty and squinty only to glare at his watch for thirty seconds before trying to go right back into kissing you.

No. No sir.

(Lyla will also always say something to or-but-usually-and about you, which... Okay, she's an AI and doesn't Get It... but it's still weird because it feels like someone you don't know just walked into the room.)

- Picks his nose when he's too busy to find a tissue, and forgets to sanitize his hands after. Denies this when you tell him.. but you've witnessed this multiple times (he's weirdly kind of whiney for a dude and lazy for a workaholic LOL).

Hobie Brown

- Lovely boyfriend because he doesn't give a crap about your appearance or the idea of needing to "look nice" for a man... but also stupid, nuisance boyfriend because this means he doesn't give one hoot if you try to get all gussied up for him. Nags you about wasting time getting ready because he doesn't need you to do all that instead of just saying "THANK YOU, YOU LOOK NICE." Even probably complains about you feeding into gender stereotypes or w/e when you do something like shave your legs or pluck your eyebrows😭

You try to talk to him about this, ask if he even cares that you tried to look nice, and he skirts around admitting it because he has an argument for everything. "'oughta know I think you're pretty either way"-ass when you just spent an hour trying to look all good for him.

- Tries to share the most obscure music with you... which is like, sweet in concept, but weird when it actually happens since it's never like a generic love song but an eleven minute underground jam session.

Which isn't to say he has bad taste in music, usually it's fine if not fantastic... but you try to tell him you don't want to listen to some dude's first draft of himself banging on a drum set for a full album and he's like: "tsk."

HOBIE. TSK??? FUCKING TSK????????? WHAT ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE LIKE????????

(He'll also use his to get out of listening to your music. Claiming his "inconsistency" is why he liked your playlist yesterday but not today. Stop!!!)

- And you know I gotta say it, he's a punk, after all: absolutely refuses to clean his favorite leather jacket, and it smells RANK. He's genuinely sentimental about it, though... and if you even try to bring up cleaning it somehow (even if very gently), he's acting like you betrayed him. Goes through the five stages of grief over you asking him not to wear it on one of your dates, and teases you by TALKING to it:

"Mumma didn't mean that, jackie. She just doesn't understand our lifestyle, does she?" while giving you a (lighthearted) stink eye.

[dangerous-disposition]

i could be honest, i could be human [Steddie WIP snippet]

THIS FIC IS NOW COMPLETE

Read it on my writing blog @gerrystamour (see pinned post) or on AO3

Here is a snippet of a fic I'm working on that is kind of a "5 times Eddie asks Steve who hurt him + 1 time he actually does something about it" and takes place over the course of the show and into post-S4 territory. When it's done it'll be 6 chapters and will be rated E. Mostly I need eyes that aren't mine to see it.

Steve Harrington did not feel sorry for himself.

Sorry? Absolutely. For himself? No.

He felt sorry for how he treated Nancy, for what he said to Jonathan, how he let Tommy make a mess of the Hawk’s sign. But not for himself, even if he couldn’t blink without wincing and something smarted when he moved his jaw. Even if his knuckles ached and a molar was wiggling a bit too much for his comfort. The way Steve figured it, all together that was roughly only half of what he deserved.

Getting the shit beat out of him for being an idiot wasn’t necessarily unfamiliar to him, though the low-grade agony in his face was.

With a heavy sigh, Steve dipped the rag into the bucket of pink, soapy water and returned to scrubbing the red spray paint off the Hawk’s sign. It was slow-going, and the sun was setting, but he had just a bit of the last letter to clean, and then he would be done. He would be free to go home and figure out his next move.

He didn’t have any more friends, what with his fight with Tommy and Carol, and he was pretty sure he didn’t have a girlfriend anymore. Not after his stunning display of class and conflict resolution.

“Well, well, well,” came a sarcastic, yet excited voice from below. “If it isn’t the King of Hawkins High himself, Steve Harrington.”

Steve groaned, the title bringing a sour taste to his mouth. Some king he supposedly was. He didn’t even recognize the voice, but that didn’t say much; Steve probably wouldn’t recognize the voices of most of the kids he went to school with because he was exactly that sort of asshole.

“Didn’t know you could actually do honest work,” the person continued, and the comment stung a bit, even if it was a fair assumption. “Though is it honest work if you made the mess in the first place?”

“Look man, I get it—” Steve started as he looked down, deliberately angling his face to hide the bruising, and abruptly froze.

Beaming gleefully up at Steve was the Freak. Something-Munson. His first name was escaping Steve, and not for any reason that was good or defensible.

Steve knew him by appearance and reputation alone, and he was pretty sure he could count the facts he knew about him on one hand. He dressed weird, had long hair, listened to shitty music, had an even shittier van, and dealt drugs. He had seen Tommy meet with him before they went to parties enough times to know at least that much. In the end, Steve had almost exclusively only heard him referred to as either the Freak or simply Munson.

“You were saying, Harrington?” Munson urged; his grin was broad but mean.

“What do you want, Munson?” Steve asked instead, returning to his chore.

“Heard from a little birdy that you were reduced to janitorial work. Obviously, I had to see that for myself before I would believe it,” he replied easily, and Steve scoffed.

“You came all the way out here just to watch me clean a sign? I’m honoured,” Steve muttered darkly.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was already in the neighbourhood,” Munson said, and Steve heard the unmistakable sound of a lighter being flicked. When Steve glanced back down, Munson was leaning against the light post and taking a long drag from a cigarette.

“C’mon, man,” Steve practically whined as he scrubbed the last of the graffiti off the sign. He was done his chore and he really didn’t want to deal with Munson’s smug face when he climbed down and revealed his bruised face. “I know I’ve been a douchebag—”

“Been? You’ve been a douchebag? As in past-tense?” Munson asked with a loud, bitter laugh. Steve could hear the eyeroll in Munson’s voice when he added, “I don’t think you get to decide when you aren’t a douchebag anymore, Harrington.”

Steve was at a loss with that, wracking his brain for a single time he was ever rude or mean to Munson. The thing was, Steve was never deliberately mean to people, his fight earlier with Jonathan notwithstanding; he just didn’t care, or tried to seem like he didn’t, as if he was above caring. For fuck’s sake, Steve couldn’t even remember Munson’s first name.

Tommy and Carol were the mean ones, and he did nothing try to stop them. How many times, unbeknown to Steve, had Tommy harassed Munson and his friends? Or how many times had Steve just tuned it out?

“Fine! I know I am a douchebag, but don’t you think this is kinda childish?” Steve grumbled, crossing his arms over the top of the ladder and dropping his forehead onto them.

“Oh, it definitely is,” Munson agreed happily, and Steve shouted when the whole ladder shook. Munson had kicked it lightly, just enough to rock it but not so much that it actually fell over. “Gonna stay up there forever, Harrington?”

“Not forever,” Steve replied, shrugging. “Just until you get bored and leave.”

“Then you’ll be up there forever,” Munson sing-songed. “C’mon, Harrington. I don’t bite, promise.”

Steve felt his face heat, his chest and stomach fluttering with an emotion he couldn’t place immediately. Shame? Humiliation? He stopped inspecting those thoughts too closely and climbed down.

When Steve was back on solid ground, he turned to face Munson and stood up straight. He was taller than Steve by just a bit, but it was enough that he had to look up slightly to meet his eyes.

“Oh, Harrington,” Munson laughed—no, practically crooned, his eyes wide and bright as he reached up to touch the bruising. “Who did this to you?” he asked, his tone downright giddy.

READ THE COMPLETED FIC ON AO3

[finchers-ipad]

Hello bff 😜😜😜 do you have any hcs just for Tyler???!

helloooo :3, of course!! heres some off the top of my head lmao (all if tyler was real):

- tyler can fall asleep ANYWHERE, especially public transport which means he has missed a lot of shifts at work lmao. he just gets on the bus, puts his feet up on the seats and is out like a light. the narrator is really jealous of him for this and tyler is always like “man, i don’t get how you can’t just go to sleep it’s so easy”

- he loves music and will listen to just about anything. he has mixtapes but not many (he just listens to albums) and they are not organised by genre or anything so he will get three of the most random songs in a row. like going from beethoven’s seventh symphony , to bikini kill, to destiny’s child.

- this is a huge headcannon which isn’t based in anything at all BUT i like to think tyler is a batman fan (specifically the comics). when tyler was younger, like late childhood and early teens, i think he was kind of a loner and went to the comic book store most days after school, or sometimes skip school all together, to just go and read all of the comics that he couldn’t afford. his fav is ‘the dark knight returns’ by frank miller, because of the gay subtext that he kind of connected with? and he either bought it or took it. it’s still in the paper street house somewhere, like in his closet or bedside table or something. (i have never read the dark knight returns, just to be clear, i am just aware of it 😭)

- tyler has a MAJOR sweet tooth. i am a firm believer that he only chews fruit flavoured gum, would be a big fan of candy and this is random but i feel like he would use bubblegum flavoured toothpaste 😭 he would use the excuse that it’s cheaper and “it has the same chemicals and shit as the adult one” but in reality he just likes the taste.

- he is definitely some type of neurodivergent (i’m leaning towards adhd and high functioning autism?)

- tyler HATES when the narrator has to go on work trips. i literally can not stress enough how much he wants to crawl out of his skin when the narrator has to leave him. he tries to not show how much it bothers him but the narrator can tell something is up. so i like to imagine one day is like “tyler i have to fly out tomorrow, i should be back on friday morning :(“ and tyler is just not looking at him like “yeah okay cool, whatever” then is just kind of being cold and distant with the narrator untill he leaves for his flight. the narrator would be all up in his head thinking about why tyler was being so weird, he’s sat in his seat on the airplane and tyler just shows up like “hey, you’re hot, mind if i sit down?” and the narrator is just like “TYLER 🤯🤯🤯”

- tyler likes to cook, he is horrible at it, but he likes doing it anyway. he likes cooking for other people more than himself and will give himself the food that is a bit burnt or more shitty looking then give the pretty one to the narrator

[whiskydisky]

alright buddy you asked for those headcanons....

a lot of them are for rachel for some reason, or just me projecting, or really out of character, I thought of them in the shower, blah blah blah you don't wanna hear me yap.

some of them are also just "____ reminds me of _____", and they shift past and present tense cause I'm STUPIDD so sorry

ANYWAY

Andre

Andre doesn't really have a definite music taste, he just listens to whatever Cal likes and whatever's on the radio (OR SO HE SAYS)

He was pretty much a straight A student, he probably would've even gotten a scholarship.

His family has had Mel since she was a kitten.

His favorite arcade games are those hunting simulators with the guns.

REPRESSED HOMOSEXUAL (obviously), but he probably would've never figured it out anyways.

If he was alive today he would've been one of those shitty misogynistic fortnite players that watch andrew tate and you can't change my mind.

His bed is the best thing you will ever lay on, it's so ridiculously comfortable.

out of character, but it's funny, so who cares. andre secretly LOVES pop music, but he never really gets a chance to listen to it.

cannot draw anything to save his life.

HATES musicals. absolutely despises them.

still sleeps with this one stuffed animal he's had since he was a kid. its a lamb.

THE HEAVIEST SLEEPER YOU WILL EVER MEET. it is almost impossible to wake him up unless he does it on his own.

he's red to me.

autistic. how many more characters will I project onto? only god knows.

necklace guy.

one of those white guys that punch holes in walls when they get mad.

pops his fingers a lot.

paranoid about balding. (AND FOR GOOD REASON.)

Cal

knew absolutely nothing about guns before andre started talking to him about them.

him and rachel were childhood friends.

had a MASSIVE cd collection. just shelves and shelves of cds in his room that him and andre would listen to when they hung out.

doesn't really like going out.

sonic fan. im not explaining he just seems like one.

his entire wardrobe is just black band shirts and jeans because black shirts "go with anything" (he isn't wrong).

bracelet guy.

a little spoiled, ends up spending money like an idiot because of it. (example, his massive cd collection)

the way he was bullied was either physically or those kinds of "my friend has a crush on you" type deals

huge music geek, and gets angry when andre doesn't keep up with all of the stuff he tells him about bands.

REPRESSED BISEXUAL. he probably would've figured it out.

middle school was the absolute worst for him.

says the absolute meanest shit about people and then says "but who am I to judge?" and thinks that covers it

absolutely loved chuck e cheese animatronics as a kid.

he's blue to me.

draws on himself a lot, just draws in general, it's a way for him to fidget.

definitely neurodivergent.

chews off the paint on his nails, and his nails.

Rachel

hums a lot.

not exactly a "popular kid" but people do hang out with her.

air hockey god, nobody can challenge her, they will lose.

earing girl.

people sometimes look at her weird for hanging out with cal, but she defends him.

had a little crush on cal, but nothing would've really come out of it anyway.

her house is super nice, like those grandma homes with the glass figures and useless decor with lace everywhere and uncomfortable couches to sit on. I'll send a picture if u don't know what I mean.

really nice to hang out with.

fidgets with her hoodie strings a lot.

one of those people that can adjust their personality depending on who they're hanging out with.

doesn't like andre because of his reputation and how cal acts around him (like how he actually is), but she doesn't actively bully or talk about him. she isn't that kind of person.

absolutely loved prom but the ride home was so incredibly awkward that it almost ruined the night for her.

has naturally curly hair, but doesn't really treat it right so it's pretty frizzy.

HATES it when car windows are down, her hair gets in her face a bunch.

also doesn't like putting her hair up unless it's really hot out.

paints cals nails. she knows he's a little 💅💅💅 but doesn't say anything.

really liked cal.

i do think she moved on, but it definitely took her a long time.

I'm very sick and tired of the "lesbian best friend" trope in caldre fics, she just doesn't seem like it to me.

falls asleep unnaturally quick.

absolutely loves going out, especially to malls or the park where she can walk and talk with people.

really good in school.

freshman year was horrible for her.

really likes reading and writing, she has a journal that she keeps to herself, it's one of those that have keys to them and stuff.

absolutely obsessed with unicorns as a kid. wanted them to be real so badly.

worried about how she'd look on her college application.

hung out with cal AND andre one time. did NOT like it and absolutely still talks to cal about how bad it was.

AND THAT'S IT... SO... YEAH!

THABK YOU SO MUCH FOR FUELING MY BRAIN AHHH I LOVE THESE SO MUCH!!!!!!

[pomefioredove]

Heyyyy if you are still open to some more matchups can I request a romantic one? You can pick anyone Students, Staff, or RSA/Noble Bell college people, i don't care either way. I really just want to know who you think fits me personality-wise best lol. 

Ok, so I guess I’ll tell you my appearance first, I’m 169cm so like 5’6, I’ve got very very curly reddish brown hair, and blue eyes that look purple to gray depending on the light. I have a lot of tattoos. Started with a stick and poke piece when I was 13 and have kept getting them even years later. I joke that instead of a sleeve I have a pair of pants, both my legs are covered in tattoos, one side black and the other color. People always tell me I'm incredibly easy to spot in a crowd. Pronouns are She/Her and my voice is kind of low and monotone maybe a bit husky.

As for hobbies... I love Boxing and MMA, I’ve been doing it competitively for a few years so I can comfortably say I can kick most people's ass. food is a bit of a love language for me so I cook pretty often and try a lot of different cuisines (current fav is Georgian, you have to try Khachapuri it's soooo good). I used to sing and play the drums though it's been a while so I'm probably not too great anymore. You know how some people listen to music for the lyrics while other people listen for the beat? I definitely listen more for the sound, I don't care what the song is about just how the sounds flow together... which is why I mostly listen to music in foreign languages, don't need to understand to lyrics to enjoy the beat.

My interests are mostly low key I like to study languages but I don't really try to become fluent just conversational i guess. I'm more inclined to learn about the aspects of a language than the grammar and stuff. Reading horror and what I like to call weird fiction. I love finding books that are a little odd the best example of this that I can think of is "House of Leaves" by Mark Z. Danielewsk. I really like weird things, normal things that have been a little twisted and made up in new ways if you get what I mean.

As for my personality... ugh I think I'm probably an acquired taste... it sounds bad but like I'm a really difficult person to get close to. I just don't trust easily and I'm not someone who entertains too much small talk without reason. An example is the fact I've known people for five+ years and still don't really consider them friends. Sure we hang out but like they don't know me and I don't know them. I'm just kind of prickly, with a major resting bitch face too. Though to make up for this I'm incredibly loyal. Once we've actually become friends there's nothing I wouldn't do for them. If they need help hiding a body I'm not gonna ask questions just gonna bring a shovel, take out for two, and tickets out of the country.

Oh and a current project of mine is to reverse-engineer a printer so that i can stick it to shitty corporations who think its reasonable to make you pay a subscription to use a printer that I ALREADY PAID FOR!! That last bit was mostly because i need to print out an essay of mine and I had to dust of the printer i haven't used in forever only to be met with a error message saying i had to pay my subscription to use the thing ugghh. So now i need to actually learn how to a soldering gun.

Sorry if my ramblings don't make much sense, I really don't think about myself too much so trying to describe myself was like insanely hard. Thank you!!!!!!!!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

I match you with 𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢

The First Impression:

Okay. His honest, true, first thought? You smell good. You smell like spices and warmth, so much so that he forgets what he's doing to turn in your direction.

Why He Fell:

"Prickly" and "hard to get close to" aren't terms in Ruggie's dictionary. He would crawl into a sewer if he thought he'd get something worthwhile out of it, and, hey- to him, you're pretty worthwhile!

He may or may not trail behind you like a lost puppy for a little while, at least until you take pity on him and give the poor thing a good meal. But, like with most stray animals, feeding him only brings him back.

Over time (and a few meals), Ruggie starts to bond with you on a more personal level. He'll ask about each of your tattoos, let you ramble to him about whatever it is you're working on, and take little notes on how sharp and crafty you are in the meantime.

The Relationship:

Ruggie has absolutely no shame. Will gladly eat every single thing you make him without even asking what it is, all while dousing you with compliments about it. If making people food is your love language, then eating food is his.

You're just really nice to have around, right? And hey, your beat-em-up skills definitely don't hurt! He's a scrawny guy, he can appreciate standing behind some muscle. He also finds the way you understand sound, in both music and language, to be fascinating, especially considering how sensitive most beastmen's ears are. He can relate to how you describe it.

He's never one to judge, either, so take your time getting comfortable around him! He'd never admit it, but he's pretty much the same way- it takes a lot to actually get his walls down. You can do it together, huh?

[piermanwalter]

I had a dream I started watching a Twitch vtuber called Threeknifer who was a grizzled Aragorn-type fantasy forest ranger. Threeknifer streamed once every month or two for up to 6 consecutive days and solely played puzzle games and visual novels. During streams, he would update us on what happened in his forest since the last stream, "The chestnut tree is overripe. Chestnuts are rotting on the ground. I think the forest on the other side of the road has more animals. I think the big road is stopping animals from entering my forest to eat chestnuts. What a shame. More for me."

Whenever a game did something he thought was unfair or reprehensible, an animation would play of a knife thrown into the screen and shattering it, and Threeknifer would never play that game again. Whenever someone said something he didn't like in chat, an animation would play of a knife thrown into the screen and getting stuck in the offending message, banning the person who posted it. As chat updated, if your message was pushed up under the knife, you would get muted for the rest of the stream. You could donate $50 dollars to make him pull out the knife, but more often than not, he would throw the knife at chat again. After Threeknifer threw all three of his knives, the stream would end.

Threeknifer gradually became fairly popular and had like 160 viewers per stream. Threeknifer hired me to make improved knife animations and pre-stream screensavers of him walking around his forest. Threeknifer refused to directly pay me, but would pay for things I wanted with equivalent cost. Since I didn't want him knowing my address and personal business, I asked him to pay for things like movie tickets and charitable donations.

Threeknifer was never fully satisfied with my screensavers since he wanted it to look as similar to his forest as possible, but still paid me full price for each attempt. I kept asking for better reference photos, but he kept sending me shitty low angle trail cam footage. I asked him to walk around and take phone photos and he said he didn't have a phone.

In one weekend, Threeknifer paid for a tasting menu at a Michelin star restaurant, music festival tickets, and baseball tickets. I had a feeling Threeknifer was purposefully extending the screensaver design process for an excuse to keep interacting with me. There was no way he made enough money off streaming to afford this.

I got weirded out and told him I was going to stop working with him. Threeknifer accepted, but offered me $200,000 to travel to his forest alone and make the most accurate screensaver referenced from real life. I decided to go, but nobody greeted me once I arrived at the forest. After wandering around for a couple hours arguing with Threeknifer on Discord and either following or purposefully disobeying his terrible directions, I found an abandoned crypto mining data center covered in fungal mycelia.

[innitmarvellous]

Like last year I tried to compile a rather sad little list of positive (and positive-ish) things and accomplishments of 2024. There really isn't much I could come up with, but better than nothing, I guess? Dunno if it's too early for it, but I can still add to this post if I can think of something else.

- I randomly decided that I wanted to learn to play an instrument & that's why I started with electric guitar in February and added electic bass in Autumn. I'm not particularly good at either of them which often frustrates me a lot, but I still don't regret trying it. Well, not much. I just hate having to deal with expectations aka "oh, so you want to play in a band?". No, I don't, because I started way too late for that and no band needs a shitty guitarist/bassist, lmao. (Oh, and I'm already planning to try and learn the violin next. I'm even worse at that, so there's a lot of fun to be had, except for the people who have to listen to my playing :D)

- I also learned how to crochet, after huge initial frustration. That's a new skill acquired, I guess? I did a lot of crochet stuff over the year, but unfortunately it doesn't feel that fulfilling because I'm not that good and also don't know anyone to gift the finished stuff too. The scarves and shawls are piling up in my wardrobe and it's so frustrating, lol. But at least I could make myself very ugly little HIGNFY and Beatles dolls :3

- I wrote more unsexy porn fics, which might not be good for the readers, but is kind of good for me as it doesn't feel very cringe anymore. Now I only need to find a way to make them at least a little sexy!

- I didn't have one of these massive self-hate attacks for a silly small reason, which was good. Well, I had several small moments, but I hated the big ones way more...

- I at least tried to accept some things about me, like being possibly asexual and getting over the fact that I hate my name. Unfortunately I only tried without much success, but the attempt has to count for something. Since I don't want to accept that I might be aspec I'm just thinking of myself as queer now to avoid having to think about it any further - which is also rather practical for gender reasons since I've got no idea about that either :/ (Although using it still makes me feel like an intruder into queer communities, but the term is useful for me...so a big sorry to anyone who's truly queer. Hope that's a forgivable sin.) And I'm trying to come up with an alternative name I can address myself with in my thoughts, lol.

- I tried to work on my self-acceptance. Again: I tried. Some things happened that made me doubt myself again when I thought I had made some progress, so I'm not really sure about how successful I was. I wish I would just figure out whether I deserve to feel better about myself, that would be a nice start. xD

- I decided to develop a taste of my own. Sounds weird and is something I should have done long ago since I'm fucking old, but...I often watched a show or read a book I didn't like simply because of things like: 'but a comedian I like said that's his favourite book!'. Well, and now I'm trying to tell myself: if our tastes align on something, very good. But if not, whatever.

- I'm still rather insane about HIGNFY and religiously watch at least one episode a day. Also, I had two nice and very long conversations with other fans on AO3 and these honestly gave me such a good time. Too bad they didn't last even longer, but the other people probably moved on to new fandoms and even so, I had a blast. (And of course I'm also still weird about Paul. If anything I got weirder about him. Just look at my fics in case I still haven't deleted them yet! Actually, no, please don't look, but you get what I mean.)

- Not an accomplishment, but I'm kind of happy that I got interested in The Beatles at the end of last year. I read so many books and stuff about them in 2024 and wrote fics and listened to the music (of course) and that usually was a source of happiness, so yeah. That was good :D

[strawberryblondebutch]

pls talk abt kirby ur interpretation of her is my favourite thing ever (sorry for not having a very specific blorbo question)

Oh man, I have a bunch of headcanons.

Only child with the kind of educated parents that treated a child like a tiny roommate. She was pretty much expected to get a graduate degree even as a toddler. Between her parents and the fact her house was the only one on its hill, she spent most of her time having to entertain herself and never really learned how to talk to other kids until she got to school and had to

In a similar vein to the "children are just small adults," her media content was regulated not based on how age appropriate was but based on if her parents personally liked it. Collateral? Sure, that's appropriate for a 10-year-old. It was nominated for two Oscars! It's art! Caillou? That kid's annoying. Absolutely not

She got very into alternative music around middle school. Juturna was the album that did it for her. She never self-identified as emo because she never dressed like them, but her actual taste? Very emo

Bought a shitty entry-level guitar because of the bands she was into, but gave up on it. Then she went back to it post-2011 attacks because her physical therapist suggested it would help with the muscle and motor control she had lost. She doesn't consider herself good at it but she's fine, it's just that her only two settings are "I am God" or "I suck at this"

Not only does she have the baseball gene, she is an incredibly obnoxious Los Angeles Dodgers fan. All the guys she hated were Giants fans, so she decided to like the Dodgers to spite them and then accidentally pack bonded with the team (literally foaming at the mouth to talk about Dodgers Fan Kirby because it fits her so well)

Worked very hard to curate her image as a teenager as someone much more cool and aloof than she was. She kind of always knew that Jill and Olivia (especially Olivia) were lifting her social status, and without them, she'd be on Robbie's tier of popularity

Parents pressured her into joining a lot of different clubs or activities, both because they would look good on college applications and because they worried that she was wasting her life hanging out with her friends. She found a way to get out of all of them -- she actually liked a couple of the things they made her try, but it was about the principle of the thing, y'know?

Her apartment is a weird combination of r/malelivingspaces and a pack rat den. On the one hand, she goes very spartan with regards to knickknacks, dishware, and other household decor. On the other, she hoards physical media -- books, DVDs, CDs, comic books.

Trauma manifests as hyperindependence. Not only were it the people closest to her who ended up hurting her, but she had to go through her recovery pretty much alone, so alone is what's safe and familiar. Seeing the Carpenter sisters and the Meeks-Martin twins actually rely on each other is... weird. (In this way she's actually much more like Gale than either of them will admit; it's a big part of why they're always at each other's throats)

[strangestcase]

Rating different versions of Edward Hyde on what type of music they force you to listen to while you drive (they're the copilot)

Barrymore Hyde: Definitely some old school gothic stuff. Bauhaus, The Cramps, you name it. 8/10

March Hyde: Either big band or shitty early 2000s pop punk. It's a 50/50 situation, so brace yourself. Hope you like Mindless Self Indulgence. He WILL sing along. He IS tone deaf. 5/10

Tracy Hyde: Nothing but jazz and exclusively jazz. If you bring up other music styles he yells at you. And he will explain every single piece as you drive and drive you insane. 2/10 for the love of god at least let me listen to it???

Barrault Hyde (Opale): Some weird experimental shit that is 100% an acquired taste. Get ready for a trip full of screeching metal. Your ears will bleed. 1/10

Lee Hyde (Blake): Dad rock. Dad rock/10.

Flemyng Hyde: First thing he does after getting in the car, if he can even do that, is insert a casette collection of Claude Debussy in there. That's it. Fucking concert for two I guess. If you dare speak up while he listens to HIS music he's going to kill you. 3/10

MazM Hyde: Varied classical music, but the type that fucks immensely. 9/10, 0/10 if you hate classical music and have no taste.

Mad Monster Party Hyde: IN THIS CAR WE LISTEN TO SURF ROCK AND SURF ROCK ONLY!!!!! 7/10

Pagemaster Hyde: He asks, "You like Oingo Boingo?", and before you can answer, he's already blasting Oingo Boingo. 10/10

TGS Hyde: Predictably, Taylor fucking Swift. 0/10

[shiny9tails]

I've been really contemplative lately and while thinking about the life I've lived up to this point, I started thinking about the people that have helped shape me that I'll never see again. Don't worry, I'm not dying or anything like that, just in therapy. But because I knew I'd never see or talk to them again, I wanted to put down my thoughts somewhere. Maybe they'll see it one day or maybe they won't, but either way I want to write down my thoughts and send them out, like little messages in a bottle.

In my earliest memories, I played with a boy with a name close to mine. You were my neighbor and I would often come over to your house to play. We would ride our big wheels around and laugh. One time I snuck over while my egg donor was asleep, but we were too young to know any better. I had mostly forgotten about you when I grew up, and when I transitioned I took your name. It's no wonder it already felt like home. Sorry, but I'm keeping it lol. Thank you for being one of my first friends.

To my friend in Freshman year of High school: Gods, I thought you were the coolest person back then. I'm pretty sure you're the reason I started to break out of the box my parents put me in. You introduced me to the LGBTQ+ community in the most unhinged way, but hey I'd probably still be closeted to a point if you hadn't. It really felt like you and me against the rest of the world back then and I appreciate you being my friend. I'd probably still be listening to only country/soft rock/christian music like my parents if you hadn't introduce me to FOB and MCR. My tastes have expanded a lot since then and my spouse loves to tell me that I have great taste in music. Thank you for being one of the first people to convince me to stand up for myself.

To the girl that sat next to me in class Sophomore and Junior year in High school: I hope you wrote your book. I hope you wrote it and it sells a million copies because I always knew you were brilliant. I know you didn't have a lot of friends but I was so happy to be yours. Thank you for letting me borrow your manga and critiquing my own writings. I actually thought of you first when I first started writing these out. I wish I could hug you and babble on about some of the literature I've read throughout the years just like we used to.

To my friend that loved cars in Sophomore and Junior year in High school: I hope you're still alive. I hope you never went through with your plan of dying in a drag race. I know I said it was normal to hate yourself like that back then but it's not. I told you I also wanted to kill myself and you nodded in solidarity. We held each other and I felt at peace knowing there was someone hurting like me. I hope you felt that same peace. Sorry I never truly understood what you were talking about when you talked about cars, but I was just happy to listen. I hope you're happy wherever you are. You were already rather punk back then, but I've been slowly embracing it too. I miss you and I hope you're proud of me. Whether you're alive or not, I want you to know I'm proud to have been friends with you.

To my ex-friend in theatre class, Junior year in High school: Sorry about being so weird about my crush on you. Looking back, I was really immature about it and I pushed a boundary that you put up. It's completely understandable why you wouldn't want to hang out with me anymore. I always blamed myself for you switching out of class. I was a shitty person back then since I started hanging around your ex just to talk shit about you when really I still wanted your attention. Hearing that you two got back together was a bitter pill I had to swallow, but I think it knocked the sense back into me. I regret my actions back then, but I know I'm not owed an apology. I just hope you made it somewhere. I can't hear "Heart Shaped Box" or "Welcome to the Jungle" without thinking of you.

To my other friend in theatre class, Junior year: You were my first same-sex crush and I'm sorry I didn't have the guts to say anything until years later, when it was far too late. I always appreciated how you would encourage me to pursue my passions. I knew you were more wild than me and I think that was what attracted me to you. I was so happy when you introduced me to your friends after school, even when I knew my egg donor would hate them on site. I wasn't in a safe place back then, so I felt like I couldn't risk acting on my feelings, whether it was hanging out with your friends or confessing to you. I'm much safer now and sometimes I wish I had been able to go to a party with you like you talked about. Thank you for coming to my 16th birthday party, even if you had to endure my egg donors stink eye the whole time. She interrogated me about your sexuality during and I feigned ignorance. She would lose her shit if she knew I was transitioning now lol. Thank you for being my friend despite how opposite we were at times.

To my mentor at BWW's: Thank you for listening to me ramble all the time. I know I was young and naive about how hostile the workplace could be, but you made it better. You would let me ramble about SCP's all throughout prep work and even joke about some of them. I enjoyed listening to you talk about your daughter and I used to wish my parents talked about me like that. I hope you were able to get custody of her from your ex. Thank you for being patient with me even when I would forget something you just told me.

I think I got all of it out for now. I might do this again if I get contemplative again. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders typing all this out. I think I'm gonna take some time to myself though and relax. I'll be seeing you all in therapy lol.

[crisispider]

/stumbles in here/ SHIP MEME??? YES PLS GIMME SOME PETER B X LYLA SHIP MEME THOUGHTS PLS

My thoughts on ANY SHIP - Accepting - @xenjoyedthat

Who’s the cuddler? I would say definitely Peter but he is slowly just Stockholm syndroming her into loving to cuddle too. Who makes the bed? I can't really imagine either one of them do? I mean like obviously Peter never does it because I mean look at him, and like I might be wrong about this but I just feel like because she is a workaholic, and doesn't really sleep much anyways why make it? Who wakes up first? I feel like it's almost always Lyla, she just RADIATES someone who never sleeps enough, and Peter is just old enough that sometimes if the right conditions are met a nap could actually turn into a full on sleep. (We are talking like the lighting dimmed just right, the exact right star trek movie on loop at the right volume, the right amount of room temp, BONUS if he has a lyla to snuggle. ) Who has the weird taste in music? See the thing is I don't think either one of them would ever think each other's taste in music is weird? They are very chill vibing babies, and they love to dance? It's like their whole thing. So honestly, I think they are always just so excited to show one another any new music they might have found. Who is more protective? Oooooooooohhh Seeeeee that's HARD. I feel that honestly it might be a close race either way? And honestly? I feel like it might honestly depend on what the situation is and what's going on in their lives. Like if It's been a really rough week for Peter and just he can't take anymore SHITTY, It's Lyla who is just SHUTTING IT DOWN, and making sure people leave him alone so he can get a break. Then just in the same step.. say if it's just like close to the anniversary of the loss of gabriella or any other really bad time for Lyla he would be the one to make sure that literally NO ONE is bugging her more that necessary. Who sings in the shower? I feel like it's definitely a joint concert sort of situation. The two of them are just always dancing and singing and having a good time, it only makes sense that they would take it into the shower too??? Who cries during movies? It's Peeeeeter, he is a big old softie and I feel like it would be one of Lyla's favorite things you know? Because just 'aww look at him so emotional about a kids movie that he is watching with his daughter' like how is that not the most ridiculous thing she has ever seen? Like i'm talking full on sobbing at the Lion King like he doesn't know what happens. Who spends the most while out shopping? Lylllllaaaa, she is the fashion icon of the two of them, and honestly his favorite thing is to just let her dress him. It takes away the stress of having to try and look decent and it makes her happy, what isn't to love? Who kisses more roughly? Peter, he is just always such a DESPERATE sort of boy sometimes it's just really hard to not want to put his entire soul into every kiss because he is ALL TOO AWARE the the closer they get to solving the multiverse crisis.. the sooner they might have to say goodbye for good since they aren't from the same universe. (Peter forever a little afraid that Miguel is going to shut down the society once the crisis is over? More likely than you think.) Who is more dominant? Lyla. It's just... Lyla ALL THE WAY. My rating of the ship from 1-10. 1000/10

[release-the-mccracken]

Little Bit Of Poison In Me (I Can Taste Your Skin In My Teeth)

Ship: William Beckett x Pete Wentz

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: A Little Less Sixteen Candles AU, consensual turned nonconsensual, nonconsensual handjobs, hand jobs, drunk sex, vampire turning, blood drinking, come eating.

Summary: Pete had always thought he could protect himself, but William Beckett was intent on putting that to the test.

Words: 2,586

Read on ao3 or below the cut now!

The air inside the stuffy bar felt electric on Pete’s skin. He didn’t normally have enough time to go out to bars these days; most of his time being taken up by hunting, either researching with Patrick or actually being out on a hunt. He’d traded most of his hobbies and leisure time out with keeping the town safe instead. Before hunting, he’d always enjoyed going out to bars and clubs occasionally. It was definitely his scene, but he’d changed a lot since then. These days, Patrick told him it was too dangerous to go out like that anyways. 

And as much Pete hated to say it, Patrick was a little right about that. The town had become overrun with vampires and that had meant more of them around human spaces. It wasn’t enough to deter Pete, though. He’d done plenty of dangerous things in his life and he’d argue playing bait was far more dangerous, but it was pointless to bicker with Patrick about it. He knew he could defend himself if he needed to, so he always just snuck out in the middle of the night instead of fighting with Patrick about where he was going. 

That was how Pete found himself in a weird little bar a few miles into town. The outside of it looked rundown and abandoned, unsuspecting in the way a lot of places like this did. He wondered briefly what it had been before the nightlife overtook the building. The inside of it didn’t look any less rundown, but that sort of atmosphere was common in the scene. Some grungy band he’d never heard of played on the stage, the lights way too dim in the crowd. Pete knew none of the people piled around the stage cared about being in the dark. 

This was exactly what Pete needed too. He spent a while around the bar, just getting used to the lights and music, letting his usual comportment slip away. Here, he didn’t have to be the fearless hunter that was always on his guard. When he was here, he could just be Pete. Some kid who liked shitty music played in dingy rooms filled with fellow degenerates. The bartender was a big guy with loose curls, quiet as he served Pete drink after drink, but Pete didn’t mind the lack of conversation. The guy never let his glass become empty. 

It didn’t take long before Pete made his way into the crowd, though. The band didn’t sound great, but that didn’t matter much. Very few of these bands actually sounded good, it was about their energy rather than the talent. He pushed his way into the middle of the crowd and closer to the edge of the stage. He liked how the music felt, liked being a part of the show experience. The orange stage lights cast a low hue over the faces of the audience and Pete held onto his drink a bit tighter as people knocked into him carelessly. 

A lot of people would be put off by the rough nature of shows, but that was a part of what he loved so much. It was easy to lose himself in the crowd, letting his body move on autopilot. His eyes followed the singer as he twisted and twirled himself around the stage, never standing still for even a second while he sang. Pete decided his stage presence made up for the bad singing voice and off-note playing from the rest of the band. They looked cool, at least. They reminded Pete of an earlier time in music, seeming to have stepped out of the 70s or 80s scene instead of anything modern. The look was coming back, he thought. 

They made it through a couple more songs and the alcohol in Pete’s blood seemed to be catching up with him, mixing with the natural fogginess a show always gave him. His body thrummed with warmth and pleasure, everything seeming to be ten times better now. The songs sounded better, the drink in his hand tasted better, and he couldn’t help but laugh as the people around him moved against him. At first, he didn’t even notice when someone bumped against him from behind, it wasn’t like it was an uncommon experience. 

What did surprise him a bit was when their hands found his hips and held onto him. Sex and messing around with strangers definitely wasn’t uncommon at these kinds of things either. It wasn’t even something he was opposed to, just not something he was expecting tonight. He quickly decided that he was here anyway and he might as well go all out, though. His hips rocked back against the figure behind him and smiled when he heard the other person laughing, airy and high in their throat as they pressed closer to him. 

“I’m William,” The voice that came from behind him was not at all what he expected, but it was a pretty voice nonetheless. He spoke just loud enough for Pete to hear him over the music, though it sounded like barely a whisper in his ear and it sent a shiver down his spine. “I’ve never seen you around here before,” He hummed thoughtfully as he rolled his hips against Pete. It was a stark contrast between rocking against each other and William making small talk as though they weren’t touching at all. Pete could only nod. 

“Yeah, I don’t usually…” Pete trailed off, alcohol making his thoughts fuzzy and hard to hold onto. He laughed quietly and shrugged a bit. “I’ve never been around here before,” He told him simply. It was mostly true, this was a new place for him to visit, but he wasn’t new to this scene. He hoped William understood what he meant and didn’t think he was dealing with a virgin or anything, but William didn’t seem to mind it either way. 

“I’m glad you decided to come out tonight then,” William seemed to take Pete’s words in stride, not pushing him on anything. Pete didn’t think he could handle any questions about his experience or what he had meant. He didn’t know why he felt so affected tonight, but his body felt heavy and weightless at the exact same time. Normally, he wasn’t such a lightweight, but maybe it had just been too long since he’d drank that his tolerance was lower. “I’ll make sure you have a good time,” William assured and kissed the side of his neck lightly. 

“I’ve never been upset about coming,” Pete knew his joke was dumb, but with so much alcohol in his system, it seemed like the funniest thing he’d ever said. He laughed loud and sharply, and for what seemed like far too long. “I’m Pete,” He introduced himself once his laughter subsided and he realized he’d never told this stranger his name. It seemed like bad etiquette to not introduce himself as well, even if they’d never seen each other again. 

It occurred to him that he hadn’t technically seen William yet either. He leaned back against him, suddenly deciding he needed to see this guy immediately. His heart raced quicker when he caught sight of the man. He was tall and pale with dark hair hanging long around his face, orange light bathing his pretty features. His lips were pretty and smiling softly, and Pete couldn’t keep himself from rocking back harder against him. 

“Fuck. You’re so gorgeous,” Pete whispered and William closed the gap between them, kissing Pete for just a moment. It was chaste, quick and not giving Pete the time to even try to work his tongue into the other’s mouth. “And a tease too,” He chuckled quietly. Long fingers curled against the back of Pete’s neck and forced his head back towards the stage. 

“Watch them,” William instructed firmly, leaving no room for argument. The casual domination made Pete shiver again, but he nodded without thinking and immediately obeyed him. His eyes followed the singer who was now laid on the stage, body arching and writhing as he wailed into the microphone. Any other time, he might’ve found it hot, but he was far too preoccupied with William rolling against him. He could feel that William was hard now, cock long and thin as it pressed against Pete through their tight layers. 

Pete’s own cock was hard and he wasn’t sure when that happened, but he wasn’t surprised. He’d have to be crazy to not enjoy someone as pretty as William rocking against him. William’s hands drifted away from his waist and curled around his front instead, hands going to his pants to unbutton and unzip them. If he was less drunk, he’d be a bit more hesitant to let someone pull his cock out around so many people. But he was too far gone to even care. A groan escaped him as William’s hand pulled him out of his jeans. 

“A piercing? Really?” William laughed warmly, fingers rubbing at the barbell going horizontally through the head of Pete’s cock. He squirmed at the sudden contact, his head was already sensitive and William focusing on the piercing only made it more intense. His fingers rubbed at it and Pete imagined it was his tongue instead. Mouth wrapped around his cock and his tongue rubbing against the piercing, and-Pete groaned and felt his cock twitch, leaking more into William’s hand. “You’re such a little slut,” The words made him shiver. 

William pressed closer and his cock rubbed more insistently at his back. He wondered if William expected to fuck him tonight, but he couldn’t focus on much when William’s hand started moving. Gathering up the precum at the tip, he used it to slick the rest of the way. Nobody around them seemed to notice and if they did, they didn’t seem to care at all and he certainly didn’t care by this point. All he cared about was that William’s hand didn’t stop the steady up, down, up, down pace that he had found. 

“Just like that, baby. Fuck,” Pete murmured out and held tighter onto his glass, not wanting to spill it or drop it. His body jolted every time William’s fingers focused on the head of his cock, rubbing at the sensitive glans and shifting the jewelry around. Maybe he was too drunk, maybe it had just been too long, but being touched like this felt insanely good. He couldn’t tell if he was being noisy or not, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he was moaning and whimpering. He was suddenly very thankful for the loud music around them. 

“Keep using my hand, you little whore. I don’t want you to stop until you’re coming for me,” William’s words were so steady and even, not sounding at all like a man who was rock hard and pressing against someone. Pete had to admire his composure because he himself was falling apart. The words only excited him more, forcing him to rock his hips into William’s hand in hopes of pleasing him. He exhaled shakily at the exertion of it all, but he kept moving through it all. “Hold still for me. This might be a tiny pinch,” Pete didn’t comprehend half of the words being said to him, laughing as he continued rutting into his palm. 

There was a feeling he couldn’t register for a moment, a weird pressure on his skin that he couldn’t quite identify. He thrashed around as soon as it hit him. William’s teeth pressed into his neck, sharp and thick as they opened his vein up around them. It didn’t feel orgasmic like it seemed to in the movies; it was a searing pain that seemed to touch his bones. Pete’s hand slipped away from his drink and sent it plummeting to the floor, glass shattering around his feet while he screamed. He felt like he was screaming enough to ruin his throat. 

Despite the noise of the glass shattering and him crying out for help, nobody around them turned around to see what was going on. Maybe they thought it was nothing out of the ordinary, it was normal for things to break and people to scream at shows after all. He fought against the grasp William had on him, but he couldn’t overpower him when they were like this. William held onto him a bit tighter and pressed his fangs in even deeper. There was a dull throbbing in his neck as William forced more blood to surface. The hand on Pete’s cock began stroking him again, overwhelming his body with sensation. 

His body still squirmed and fought against the hold William had on him, but he was quickly losing energy. Between blood loss and the hand on his cock, he was beginning to feel drained. His brain was short-circuiting, completely unable to decide where to focus its energy. Blood oozed from his throat and sent shockwaves of pain through him, but his cock still leaked and twitched, pleasure clenching his stomach tightly. William was still hard and pressed up against him, but he didn’t seem to care about getting himself off. 

Little black spots began appearing in Pete’s vision and he couldn’t tell if it was due to blood loss or the pleasure of it all. He could feel the fight leaving his body and William eased his grasp on him a bit. His fingers tightened and stroked faster, providing even more stimulation as Pete got closer to passing out and closer to coming. He wasn’t sure which was going to happen first. Every sensation was morphing together and when Pete moaned, he couldn’t even separate the pain from the pleasure anymore. 

William’s thumb stroked over the head of his cock, fingernail catching on one side of his piercing and tugging a bit. That was everything Pete needed to make his body convulse, spilling hotly into William’s hand. He kept stroking him through it and not easing up on him until it was getting to be too much. His fangs finally unclamped and he released Pete, licking over the wound to close it up. Pete’s body felt completely empty and he wasn’t even sure how he kept himself standing up. Maybe he wasn’t supporting his own weight because as soon as William turned him around, he was slumping forward into the man’s arms. 

His eyes were hazy and unfocused as he finally caught a glimpse of the man. Long dark hair framed his face and red stained his lips. He smiled at Pete and a flash of glistening fangs caught Pete’s eye. His heart was slowed down almost to a stop as William held onto him with one arm. The hand that had been stroking Pete’s cock moved to William’s mouth and his fingers slipped inside. Pete watched as red met white and blended into a lighter shade of pink. Pete’s head was swimming as he watched the sight in front of him. 

He tried to not think about how many times William had done this. How many people had been hurt by this man and how he hadn’t known about him before. How many people William had held onto until their veins were empty and their cocks were spent. His mind went to Patrick instead. He’d been right and Pete should’ve listened. As Pete began to fully lose consciousness, he thought about how he should be curled up in Patrick’s bed right now and safe in Patrick’s loving arms instead of being cradled by this monster.

[the-punforgiven]

It's me tag

was tagged by @catfacedvampire It's been ages since someone last tagged me in one of these lmao

- Are you named after anyone?

No, apparently my name was a fairly last-minute affair when I was born and my mother took one look at me and realized I'd make a terrible Wolfgang

2. - When was the last time you cried?

December 18th, 2022. I wouldn't remember were it not for Discord timestamps lmao I had accidentally double-dosed on my antidepressants and was weeping tears of love and joy over the fucking Claymore being in Elden Ring while I was mid-shift at work

Interesting day, that was

3. - Do you have kids?

No. Don't really plan to either, not on my budget, and given I was crying over a sword in a videogame barely a month ago I don't think I'm mentally fit for one either lmao

4. - Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Yeah

5. - What's the first thing you notice about people?

Usually either their hair or clothes tbh, I'm faceblind as shit lmao

6. - What's your eye colour?

Idk either brown or green, depending on the light

7. - Scary movies or happy endings?

Idk honestly I love the horror genre but my tastes are so insane, weird, and specific that I also don't love a huge chunk of the horror genre and would prefer like, literally anything else Also I'm just a sucker for characters being happy, so sue me I like that things can work out alright as long as the story preceding it isn't boring lmao

8. - Any special talents?

I'm surprisingly good at playing music on like, small things that play notes that it isn't super expected to actually play music on, like how I used to be able to play the tetris theme on my mother's old cell phone keypad when I was like 12, or how I can play Unwelcome by Arsis on the Warframe Shawzin now

I used to be able to play the intro to Through The Fire And The Flames on Big Band's trumpet in Skullgirls back when I played that, but it's been a while and I'm pretty certain all my muscle memory for that game's long gone lmao

9. - Where were you born?

That weird little dirt orb that sometimes shows up between Venus and Mars

10. What are your hobbies?

Art, making stupid little tunes in Beepbox.co, fighting my friends with swords (highly recommend), Whatever you call the Fromsoftware Souls Game Brainrot that possesses you and makes you do co-op forever, loving it deeply and never tiring of it @mutuals I am begging you to play Elden Ring with me PLEASE Making music with instruments and my voice outside of Beepbox.co (though admittedly I've been having more fun goofing off with Beepbox lately lmao)

11. Have you any pets?

BEHOLD

12. What sports do you play/ have you played?

I don't play sports, but I have an interest in fencing, though idk how well I'd play with not only a light whippy sword (I'm a longsword kinda person at heart) as well as having a sword restricted to only one hand (again, I'm a longsword kinda person at heart)

13. How tall are you?

idk like 6'3 I think? (Don't let my sister lie to you, she keeps telling everyone I'm 6'4 and I can't make her stop)

14. Favourite subject in school?

I barely remember school at all tbh but the student councilor also ran a creative writing class that was rad as hell, though I don't remember more than like three things that happened in it over the two years I was taking it lmao I also remember liking art class, but I was so bad with rules I'm kinda surprised I passed lmao, I just doodled whatever the fuck every day and the teacher was just like "Yeah sure, this'll do" and passed me lmao

15. Dream job?

Tbh Daisuke Ishiwatari is already living my ideal career path and I haven't thought of anything else I really want to do yet

That's a lie I just like, really deeply want to be in a shitty metal band made up of friends that tours in a van who doesn't sound all that great but you can tell is just pouring their fucking hearts out up there and so you kinda forgive them because the performance is just so raw even if the technical skill isn't great and there may be some issues with the faulty electronics and at least one of them hasn't changed their strings in like four years but they sound good they love what they do and they're easy to headbang too so like, what more do you need, really?

Idk who to tag but like, if you wanna do this, feel free to do it and just like, say I tagged you in it, I won't tell

[willowthefoxxo]

i say this with kindness as a call in and a white person with my own inner stuff i had to sort through bc i thought i was fine and nice - it’s not so much your comment on rap, but that you have wonderful exceptions for one genre, but not rock/metal, again assuming these genres are broader/cleaner and we all know better artists but for rap it’s So Much Harder. you may not have said anything mean, but the subconscious belief that rap is more single note than metal IS biased. the subconscious belief that it’s easier to find clean metal IS biased.

yea i get that, sorry about that. i just honestly don't know a lot about mainstream stuff in general since I'm so used to avoiding it in favor of the more obscure fantastical stuff. And it's hard both because the kinda yucky stuff is always what i see advertised, and because i just tend to avoid the entire scene because it's not what I'm used to. I got into Mori and DEMONDICE because i got into electro swing, which i got into because of Kawaii EDM, which I got into because I often liked the background music of pop songs but not the lyrics. Brothers of Metal and Paddy And The Rats were introduced to me as my very first experiences with metal because of my dad, and I never got to listen to any mainstream metal or much rock at all. And I never listened to any mainstream rap because the mainstream rap i was exposed to either had weird lyrics I was too young to be hearing, or just sounded really bad imo. My favorite genres have always been pirate/viking/dwarf heavy metal, electro-ish swing, J pop, J heavy metal, and breakcore. I like the stuff that would the rupture the ears of any normal person, and I stick really strongly to that because I'm scared to listen to anything else.

I'm honestly just biased against "mainstream" things in general- hell, i was scared to watch Hazbin Hotel, TADC, and Murder Drones at first because i was thinking like holy shit these things are so popular i wouldn't like them at all, cuz I'm just so used to being "that person" who only likes the "shitty stuff" that "nobody likes except weirdos". those three shows ended up being my three favorites, though.

and because of that, I just don't know jack shit about the mainstream stuff. I don't really know jack shit about rap or pop or normal rock or popular metal or anything like that, I'm the mofo who blasts Femtanyl songs at max volume in the middle of class and has done hours of research dissecting the meaning of all of Femtanyl's songs and knows all their lyrics by heart, meanwhile the only things I know about rap are that some of Drake's songs make for banger breakcore remixes and apparently Kendrick is mad at Drake and is dissing him with what people say is objectively better music. All I know about the rap stuff is what other people tell me, and also that my mom's taste in rap is ✨garbage✨ and she doesn't know what's appropriate or not appropriate in terms of music for a 7 year old, because she had my 7 yr old ass listening to songs that literally described sex and gang violence and drug abuse in the most vivid ways possible. (meanwhile she says SpongeBob is too inappropriate for current me, aka a 16 yr old Chainsaw Man fan. like- HUH??? WHAT??)

srry if i derailed a bit, but yea- i realize i fucked up a bit. also i have once again showed myself just how fucking stupid i am when it comes to gauging tone because jesus fuckin christ i feel dumb as ✨shit✨ now that i realize that was sarcasm