#also doesn't help i've been off for over a week

[eponymous-rose]

Monday!

It's been a while since I've done one of these week-in-the-life posts (and I LOVE reading them from others), and it's a particularly stressful week where I'm trying to stay off social media for Reasons, so hey, let's do this again!

It's a busy day, but it starts relatively late - I don't have to leave for the office until 10AM. So, you may ask, why on earth do I set my alarm for 8:30? Is it because I have an elaborate morning routine? Is it so I can hit the gym and go for a jog? No, no, no, it's because I have a little cat who takes the alarm as her cue to cuddle and I don't want to disappoint her, so I inevitably spend half an hour hugging her like a purring teddy bear first thing in the morning before I get up.

I respond to some e-mails as I get ready and on the bus ride over - mostly prep for our department's holiday party (I'm in the band and we're trying to get as much practice in as possible), but also a little work getting supercomputer access restored for an undergrad research assistant, offering to write a letter of recommendation so my colleague doesn't have to (we both know the student well and said colleague is traveling across the country for a funeral on a redeye flight tonight...), reworking some elements of the rubric for the faculty search committee I'm on, and confirming a meeting with my grad student.

10:45 - I get to the office and go to make my usual mug of tea... and realize in the moment I close my office door that the keys are still inside. I get the hot water from the lounge and meander by the office, but nobody's there. Just as I'm about to work up the nerve to go interrupt a more senior professor's meeting to borrow his keys, one of the office staff walks by and is happy to open the door for me, phew.

11:00 - My most senior grad student is doing an internship in Colorado this quarter (it's the location he most wants to do a postdoc at as well!), and we've set up a call to catch up after a few weeks without chatting. It's a bit of an awkward chat because he wants to go to his second conference in two months, and I had to bring out the "well, um, this is a side project you're doing with someone else's research group and you may want to check with them about where the $2000+ for conference costs is coming from". I possibly have an avenue - I might ask him to just attend for a couple of days instead of the whole time, so I can use some funding from a different grant, but I'm hoping we can get some cost-sharing going here, or possibly the other professor he's working with can present his poster for him if need be. Still, his work's going great and I'm hoping we can get him to this conference! He finishes his PhD this year, and I can attest to how helpful conferences are for landing postdocs.

12:00 - Speaking of grants, I had a successful grant come through late last summer to study wildfire smoke dynamics with novel instrumentation (something new to me!), and the whole team is meeting up for the first time to talk logistics! I also have to teach real soon, so I'm only on for the first chunk of the call, but we get some of the plan set up. Looks like we'll be meeting at a NASA facility early next year to do some siting stuff prior to the first controlled burn. I genuinely have no idea what I'm doing on this project, apart from being willing to write a big chunk of the proposal, but it's a good time!

12:30 - Class time! This is my domain-specific intro-to-python class that I developed 5 years ago and have been iterating on ever since. It's going a lot smoother this week than last, and the students are pretty responsive to my jokes (priority #1, lbr) and seem to be following along quite well, judging by the handful of questions I get after class. Not a ton of technical issues today, either, which is a HUGE win over last week.

1:30 - Forecasting time! I'm once again part of our university team in a giant forecasting contest. While I'm decidedly average at it (usually around 250th out of 1000 participants), my grad student was #1 for a while there. We chat in broad terms about the next week of weather in our targeted forecasting region.

2:30 - Meeting with another graduate student! We talk about some of the researchers he reached out to after his first conference a couple weeks ago, and we're starting to narrow down a possible author list for his first paper. He's working on writing up the methods and data for that paper while he incorporates a few new datasets into his preestablished workflow. He's been doing really well! Being a dual-major in CS means his code is a heckuva lot more organized than most second-year grad students I've had.

3:30 - ...nothing??? I've decided to skip my usual seminar and postpone one undergraduate student research meeting this afternoon (the one currently locked out of the supercomputer he needs for his project) since I have a couple of grant proposals due very shortly. I head out to grab some teriyaki to bring back to my office for lunch/dinner, but the restaurant just has a big sign out front saying "closed for FIRE" so I opt to go across the street for some chicken katsu and boba tea instead. I approve the final budget (coming up on a million dollars, no pressure) and keep plugging away at the statement of work (which is basically "what are you going to do, in detail, with one million dollars over the next three years? please tell us in exactly 15 pages, not counting your 3-page bibliography and 6 appendices"). I even find a perfect paper to reference to discuss one of our theories! We've made it through one round of reviews with our pre-proposal, and man, we'd love to do this project - it would be myself, a colleague, and a postdoc looking at some really novel stuff in severe storm predictability over the next three years. I also get a little work done on the invited talk I'm giving to a student journal club tomorrow, and work on some more e-mails (trying to set up a meeting with a friend's graduate student to help her out with some methods she's using from an older paper of mine).

5:15 - One of my colleagues has retired this year and has a farewell song he wants to sing at our holiday party, which happens to be mostly voice & piano, so we agree to meet up before the main practice and go over it a couple times before the rest of the band shows up and he has to head out to dinner. I'm really sorry to see him leaving (although I know he's delighted to get to spend more time with his kids and grandkids) - he and his wife were extremely welcoming when I started here, and were so kind and supportive when Mom died. Just very touched that he reached out to me to play piano on this one. Tragically, though, whoever was supposed to bring in the keyboard hasn't left it in the practice room, so we'll have to wait and run through it with the rest of the band on Thursday. Instead, it's back to the office to get caught up on e-mail and try to slog through more of the grant application (all today's research and work has netted me... 1 page of writing, blah).

6:00 - The rest of the band shows up! We run three songs of our eight-song setlist, and I'm somehow now playing on 4/8 of them, despite there being five people signed up for keys. It's a good time, though!

8:00 - I make it home and give Clara a bunch of new toys that have arrived with her prescription food (one of which she licks for 15 minutes straight). Luckily, tomorrow's work schedule is much more chill!

[monster-noises]

Making dinner as soon as I get home from work is definitely The Move in terms of like.. effective scheduling and getting my ass in bed at a reasonable hour

But hooooooo boy

By the time i get gome from work and spend the time and energy cooking dinner it's like 6pm

And my lunch is at like... 11am

So i really start to Flag as i'm plating things up there Hoo boy

[lord-squiggletits]

pharma really is such an interesting case. one thing i’ve always felt with pharma is that he absolutely doesn’t want consequences. and facing up to it requires a lot of looking at and showing people what he’s done and you know. the consequences. i mean hell he’d rather start a plague than say “hey i got coerced into doing a very bad thing by the djd”

I do understand what you mean about Pharma not wanting to face consequences, but on the other hand, I kind of understand why Pharma made a plague rather than admit to medical malpractice/murder? Because like, the thing that I don't see brought up often enough with regards to Pharma is that blackmail... is blackmail. Like, as someone who's unfortunately been on the receiving end of blackmail, the entire point of blackmailing someone is that you corner them into doing bad things by convincing them that they CAN'T turn to an authority figure to ask for help. Like, the person doing the blackmailing generally convinces the person who's getting blackmailed that if they try to reach out for help, the law/authorities/etc either won't care about their predicament or will punish them for the bad thing they did that they're getting blackmailed about.

I kind of feel like (and this isn't an attack on you, just a commentary about the nature of blackmail) when someone like Ratchet looks at Pharma and says "but you could've called for help or shut down the clinic or anything!", it kind of ignores the fact that...... when you're being blackmailed you're fucking terrified, and people who are terrified generally don't jump to the most rational, safe solutions possible? When you add in the fact that Pharma was blackmailed by Tarn of the DJD, notorious hater of Autobots and fanatic leader of a torture club, it's not hard to imagine that Pharma was both afraid and in pain (or threat of pain) while at Delphi and thus wouldn't be thinking straight about it.

I don't know, like. Yeah, on one hand Pharma made a plague and killed a bunch of people to try and cover up his crimes and maintain his career. But he didn't just do it for ego related reasons, he was also almost certainly facing threats of torture and death.

[kuromi-hoemie]

bleh

[doodlemancy]

Hey, so, Patreon is lying to you about Apple forcing their hand.

Patreon is getting rid of 1st-of-the-month/per-creation billing, claiming a new decision by Apple has forced their hand. This will hurt a lot of creatives, and their excuse is bullshit. Allow me to explain.

In 2018, Patreon tried to impose a new ill-considered fee structure on everyone that would have cost creators a lot of smaller pledges. They ended up apologizing for this profusely; they have now deleted this apology from their website and unfortunately I was unable to find it on the Internet Archive. This was shameful, but to their credit they backed off quickly when things got ugly.

Back in 2021, Patreon discussed plans to force all creators into a rolling bill structure and get rid of first-of-the-month/pay-up-front billing. The community once again very decisively shouted them down, and they had to walk it back again. This whole fiasco damaged the already shaky trust between Patreon creators and staff.

This week, Patreon announced that, along with extra fees, Apple's policies were supposedly forcing them to move everyone over to the rolling fee structure that they first tried to get us to agree to in 2021. Patreon will tell you they are not happy about this. As a person who spent a long time watching Patreon make terrible decisions, I can tell you-- they are probably very happy about this, because it's exactly the smokescreen they needed to do what they've been trying to do for years, which is pull ALL Patreon creators away from 1st-of-the-month and per-creation billing.

The spin in the news I've seen so far is "Apple bullies Patreon, boo hoo hoo poor Patreon". This is very obviously not what's happening. Mind you: Apple does suck, and they are doing something bad here. Fuck apple. But Patreon and Apple are BOTH the asshole in this situation; Everyone Sucks Here. Patreon has options: they can make the iOS app a reader app and do billing through the browser to avoid the restrictions and the extra fees (Netflix and Amazon, notably, both do this), or they can allow creators to opt-out of iOS billing if they want to use billing models that don't work with it.

It seems most likely to me that the Apple situation is a real fire that Patreon has chosen to use as a convenient smokescreen to do what they've been wanting to do since at least 2021, and maybe since 2018.

What do we do?:

They have a feedback form specifically about this.

They also have a creator discord.

And they have lots of social media pages where they probably really, really hope that this doesn't blow up again, because they never learn. The incidents I've described here aren't the only two other times Patreon has pissed off their creators. They know if they don't contain the noise it'll be harder to get away with it, so make some noise. They've done a lot of work to spin this cleverly so you'll have sympathy for them and they won't get the kind of backlash they know they deserve.

Please don't misuse these links and make threats or spam or something. All you have to do is give well-reasoned feedback. Patreon hates feedback. Make sure they get a nice heaping helping of their least favorite vegetable.

[vampiresbloodx]

I've missed you.

pairings: Rio Vidal x Reader

word count: 1.9k

synopsis: Your ex comes back at your doorstep.

warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, face sitting, multiple orgasms, teasing, strap on use, oral sex (r receiving), top!Rio, bottom!reader, modern au without the witch stuff, toxic ex, breakups, slight angst if you squint, squirting, so much porn, a bit of yandere!Rio, possessive and obsessed mention, strap on referred to as a cock/dick, age gap, r is in their early twenties and Rio is older, bit of soft Rio but I love her mean.

It was your usual friday night, the week had ended and work was over for the weekend, you got to relax, do whatever you wanted to do, get things done, it wasn’t like you went out partying a lot like your other friends did, always trying to convince you to join them for a couple of drinks after your shift. You just weren’t always feeling it. 

But tonight you went out. 

Having both Natasha and Yelena talk you into it was easy enough for them, it was hard to deny them both, you loved them, they were complete idiots, matching each others personality perfectly while also being different in their own styles, most wouldn’t even guess they were sisters. 

You actually first met them years ago when the three of you were still kids. Natasha being the oldest and Yelena the baby of the trio. They treated you like you were their own sibling that they looked after, you really did love them a lot and they knew that. 

This week's work schedule was rather intense and stressful, your anxiety building up and getting rather worse, as you probably had to look into changing your meds that you were currently on as they weren’t doing what they were supposed to do anymore. Work has taken up so much of your time that you hadn’t had much of a personal life, you don’t even remember the last time you went out, like actually out, out of the apartment, aside from going for a walk doesn't really count, you felt as though you’ve been stuck inside every time you finish work. Which isn't a bad thing. Rest is good, needed, but for some reason you end up craving to be social and around your friends every so often. 

And tonight you just missed being around them. 

They never failed to cheer you up, make you laugh, they were seriously the best friends you could ask for. 

They were the very friends who convinced you to break up with your ex girlfriend, that was mostly you, but they helped a lot. 

Rio. 

God, even just thinking about her makes your stomach do a flip and your heart skips in your chest, she still has such a strong effect on you that you knew if she was here you’d probably do anything she tells you to do right then and there. 

Shamelessly. 

And willingly. 

She was your first girlfriend that you’ve ever had in your early twenties, she was older than you, which your friends claimed was a red flag alone, with the power imbalance and the age gap, but you didn’t think so. 

Since in the beginning it was paradise. 

She was the absolute best most beautiful girl you had the privilege of calling her yours, sure, she was overly possessive at times, even really protective, always checking everything you do, asking where you went always, no matter the time and place, always just there, it got too much before you knew it. 

She would even threaten some of your colleagues, making assumptions that they were flirting with you, making a move on you, from the way they stared at you, god, it was like no one was allowed near you. 

But you loved Rio. You loved her to death. 

After your rough breakup, you came to wonder if she used that against you, how naive you could be, since she was your first girlfriend, she took advantage of you. 

She knew how inexperienced you were, you had just started your new job when you first met, every time you had an issue with your co worker or your boss, she’d always listen, she was always there, but now when you look back, it felt weird, you couldn’t put your finger on it, but it was like she got off on it. 

How you relied on her so much. 

It wasn’t healthy. And yet you couldn't lie to yourself when you also liked it. 

How much control she had over you, how much of an impact she had, how easily influenced you were by you. If it weren’t for your friends, you’d probably be in a much shitter situation now. 

On nights like this, you can’t help but miss her. 

Your would be anniversary is coming up, you were always the one to plan it, she wasn’t the one to make big gestures, but she did some things. Your heart ached when you had found a sweater of hers she left behind one night as it still smelled like her, you wear it more than you should. 

Your phone suddenly started ringing, startling you as you looked at it, seeing it was Natasha calling, you almost forgot about the plans for tonight as you were so deep in thought of your ex that you realised you should be leaving soon, before you could even answer, there was a knock at your door. 

Weird. 

Natasha was the type to randomly show up even if she called, it didn’t matter, but she’d also just send a text, letting you know she’s here, you weren’t expecting company, you almost wanted to ignore it, there was a part of you that was curious. 

And that won you over. 

Getting up from your couch, you walked towards the door, letting in a breath in and out, your hand reaching out to the doorknob as you twisted it, definitely not expecting her. 

“Rio?” you said, your eyes widening as your mouth hung open. 

She chuckled. 

“Better close that mouth before a fly gets in it” she smiles, you immediately shut your mouth, she used to always say that. 

You noticed the way she was staring at you, the way her eyes roamed shamelessly over your body, you stood there, still not sure what to do. 

“Wow, you look good, going somewhere?” she asks, allowing herself into the apartment as you frowned. 

“Rio, what the fuck?-” you muttered. 

She kept eyeing you up and down, a smirk at her lips as she watched you, you started getting flustered from her gaze, of course, she decided to show up when you thought about her. 

“What do you want” you asked, slightly annoyed. 

She stepped closer, too close, as you licked at your lips, not meaning to, just a stupid habit, and she leaned in, smelling you as you gasped, pushing her off of you. She laughed. 

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?” she grinned, her hand coming up as she caressed your cheek, your body shuddered from her touch, you missed her. 

“Rio, w-why the fuck are you here” you asked, stuttering over your own words as your cheeks heated up in embarrassment. 

She cooed, cupping your face in her hand, gripping tightly, she licked her own lips this time, you stared at her tongue more than you should. She saw that. The smell of her perfume overwhelmed you as she’d always wear that specific one, you wanted to feel her. She got onto that pretty quickly, as before you could ask her another question, she pressed her lips to yours. 

She didn’t even give you a chance to speak, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as she kissed harder, her tongue going inside yours, making you gasp as you held onto her, she chuckled, deliberately placing her leg in between your thighs and pressing it against your core, you whimpered from the pressure, you didn’t like all this teasing she does, you missed her too much to tell her to stop. 

You started grinding your hips down on her thigh, as you desperately chased after your high, your entire body burning with want. You didn’t even know what the hell you were doing and why Rio was suddenly in your apartment after a year of not seeing her. Did she ignore the fact that you broke up with her? Why the fuck is she fucking you like it’s a normal friday night. 

Not that you were complaining either way. 

“Hm, I need more of you, baby” she murmured, her voice sending a chill down your spine as you felt her kiss along your neck, sucking at your pulse. You wrapped your hands around her neck, pulling her in closer, afraid if you blinked she’d be gone. “Shhh, I’ve got you, sweetheart, you wanna lay down for me?” she asked softly, pressing a kiss on your lips as she placed you down onto the couch, gently, still kissing down your chest and further. “I’ve missed you.” 

You couldn’t even form a proper sentence or even mumble a reply back, still focused on the way she was touching you. You allowed her to take off your dress that you were going to wear to the club tonight, but you’d much prefer this. She forced your legs apart, taking off your underwear that was already soaked through, she groaned at the sight, Rio grinned, leaning in as she licked up your pussy, causing you to cry out. 

She teased at your clit with her finger, rubbing circles and adding more pressure, pleasure boiling up inside your body as you felt like you were on cloud nine. Your cunt throbbed the more she licked and sucked, she was so good with her mouth, it was one of the things you love her doing to you after the two of you would get into an argument and she’d fuck you with her tongue. 

Your hands gripped at her hair, which was soft, just as you remembered, you were a whining mess, tightening your grip as you rode on her face. She didn’t stop until she got her fill, she easily pushed her finger inside of you, she was always amazed at how wet you were for her. She felt your thighs begin to shake, she watched your face contorted into pleasure as she admired you. It wasn’t long until you broke, you loudly cried out and she still didn’t stop, letting you feel out your high. 

She removed herself from you, immediately stripping herself from her clothes as you watched in a dazed state, she smirked, her hair a mess, Rio grabbed out her fake cock, eyeing you, letting you back out now, when you didn’t, she leaned back in, kissing your lips as she wrapped her hand around her cock, pressing it against your entrance as you whimpered, pushing hips down onto it. Rio used some of your wetness as lube, easily enough the cock eased into your pussy, she groaned, slowly moving her hips as your hands grabbed at her back, your nails digging into her. 

“Fuck baby, you feel so good” she moaned, “You gonna come on my cock? Yeah? No one else can fuck you like I can, this pussy is mine, right baby?” she said, watching as you nod, she loved how she can fuck you sensless to the point where you can’t even speak. 

You held onto her tightly as you came faster than before, you gasped, feeling like you’ve wet yourself, as you opened your eyes, embarrassment hitting you but you were surprised as you saw that you had squirted over Rio’s dick, as it was still coming, she chuckled, looking impressed as her eyes filled with lust. 

“You really missed me, huh?” she teased, your cheeks burned as you couldn’t believe what just happened, all of it feeling like it was a dream. 

And even if it was, you never wanted to wake up ever again.

[kingkat12]

pornography (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, foul language, groping/fondling, dry-humping lol, mentions of substance abuse

summary: when you finally talk to Eric Draven in rehab, it doesn't take long before you get drawn together by a force stronger than anything you have ever encountered. it doesn’t help the situation that you eventually find out Eric has been drawing pictures of you… nude

word count: 2,337 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is for all the girlies like me that just came home from watching The Crow and got their mind blown by how hot Bill was in it... holy fuck. had to write this blurb because I am so shaken up, I can't feel my face. enjoy!! there will be more parts hihi...

"I fucking hate pink," 

I couldn't believe that was the first thing I said to him-- the dark and broody stranger I had been eyeing through my first few weeks in rehab. He stared back at me, confusion swimming in his big green eyes, probably pondering why I had sat down next to him in the cafeteria. "Pardon?"

"It's a little ridiculous," I tried, watching as he put down his cutlery, pushing his food away as he gave me his full attention. Tugging at my pink sweater, which we were all wearing, I let out a nervous chuckle. "Whose idea was it to put a lot of addicts in pink, anyway?"

My eyes darted down to his hands as I waited for his answer-- they were huge up close, and completely covered in tattoos. I hadn't noticed them from afar; I had only noticed the ones peeking through the top of his shirt when he would pass me by in the hall, or the big eye he had on his chest that I had seen while passing by his room. I knew it wasn't nice to peek into his room while he was changing, but I was quite frankly starved of any male contact-- any girl would go crazy in here. 

He eventually shrugged, giving me the answer I least expected; "I guess pink is supposed to be a calming colour. It's not that bad," I watched as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards, giving away hints of amusement. "Aren't you girls supposed to like pink?"

"Maybe," I mumbled, nudging food around on my plate with my fork. "I just don't like to wear it. It doesn't suit me."

The handsome stranger didn't seem to agree, another shrug following accompanied by a shy laugh. "I can't figure out whether you're being sincere or searching for compliments,"

This was most definitely not how I wanted to come off. I straightened up, resting my elbows against the table as I cleared my throat. "I'm just trying to make conversation,"

"... Why?"

"Because you've been staring at me almost as much as I've been staring at you," I put down my fork, hoping he didn't see how nervous I was. In truth, he had been staring-- it wasn't all purely one-sided. I had caught him staring at me in the courtyard, on my way to the shower, and I had also caught him lingering outside my room several times. He would usually leave when I came out, disappearing down the hall with speed I wouldn't even dream to catch up with. 

He finally gave in to a smirk, nodding to himself as he lowered his head. "Sorry," It was clear that he hadn't thought he'd be called out like this. However, something told me he wasn't too upset about being caught either. 

"Don't be," I said, feeling my anxiety ripping through my veins. Why was I indulging? "I just--"

It was at this moment that a guard appeared behind him, yanking him away from the table with a harshness that made me gasp. I clasped my hand over my mouth, watching as he barely reacted to the brutality. 

"Guys and girls eat separately!" the guard yelled at me, slamming his fist down on the table. 

My eyes widened, looking back at the handsome stranger. "But I-- I was the one who sat down here, he didn't do anything!" I protested, watching as the guard grabbed him and led him away. Groaning, I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated with the rules at this place. Why was it so fucking strict?

I eventually looked up just in time to see that the man had managed to turn around, smirking my way; "I'm Eric!" he said, holding back a laugh as he was shoved along the cafeteria for everyone to see.

Despite the horror washing over me for getting him in trouble, I managed to croak out my name as well. It seemed that he appreciated that I had at least tried to stick up for him-- What was it that I had just started?

My question would be answered a lot quicker than I had expected. 

A few days passed, and more looks and stares were exchanged. I was dying to talk to Eric again. I knew I hadn't been sent to rehab to make friends or get feelings for someone, but something was gnawing at me to talk to him again. I wanted to be around him constantly; what was happening to me? I recognized this feeling-- it was the same feeling I got when I really, really craved something... Fuck, how I missed drugs. Maybe Eric was turning into a substitute?

It wasn't often that the door to Eric's room was open, but today it was. I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't taken the extra lap around the institute as usual, hoping to get a glimpse of him through the small window in his door. But today, I didn't have to get on my tippytoes to get a look-- there he was, picking up several drawings that had been scattered around the floor. His room looked like a mess, completely unlike how I was used to seeing it through the tiny window. This looked like the result of one of those raids that the prison guards sometimes did when they suspected there were hidden drugs in a patient's room. 

I felt sorry for him; I knew how horrible it could feel to have someone rip through all your stuff. But as I bent down and picked up a few drawings that were at my feet, my lips parted in surprise.

It seemed I wasn't the only one caught off guard; Eric noticed me standing in his doorway, letting out a relieved sigh as he watched me inspect his drawings. He called out my name, leaning against the wall as he sized me up and scanned me, crossing his arms over his chest. 

I cleared my throat; "Is this... me?" I held up the first drawing of the bunch. It was a sketch of me sitting in the courtyard, and I was sure that it was me-- I suppose it was my shock asking for confirmation. 

Eric snickered, kicking off the wall. "Yeah... Sorry,"

"Stop saying sorry," I shuffled through the drawings, finding he had drawn me in multiple settings, and it was clear that I had been watched the few weeks I'd been here. "These are beautiful, Eric... I guess I'm honoured--" My words trailed off as I finally approached the last drawing. Was that...?

He didn't even try to take it away from me. Eric sighed, looking away as his cheeks flushed a light pink, similar to our uniforms. 

Judging by his reaction, I had a feeling he wasn't so against me seeing this. It was a sketch of me, after all-- nude. 

I had to swallow rather hard for anything to go down. I couldn't pinpoint why I wasn't absolutely horrified at this.  "So... this is what you've been up to in here, huh?" There was no stopping the smirk that spread across my lips, holding back a flustered giggle. "This is next-level pervy, do you know that?"

It didn't take long before Eric's big hands ripped the drawings out of my hands, turning away as he shook his head. "Every artist needs a muse, no?"

"A muse? How can I be your muse if we don't know each other?"

"That's not how it works," he mumbled, throwing away the drawings into a heap on the bed. "Your beauty is all I need to get inspired."

This was enough to shock me into silence. I inhaled a sharp breath, stepping into Eric's room despite knowing it was forbidden. "So now you think I'm beautiful?"

Eric hummed, finally turning to meet my eyes. "It hasn't been the biggest secret, has it?" There was something playful about him, shameless, as though it didn't matter to him that I had just found his handmade porn. "It gets a little lonely in here, I guess. These drawings just... run out of me like water. Can't control it."

There was something so unimaginably tantalizing about Eric. Everything about him made me want to jump him then and there-- was it maybe the result of my withdrawals that were turning my brain into further mush? In a normal setting, this would have creeped me out to infinity and beyond, but knowing this was coming from the man I had been lusting after from afar for several weeks made me excuse it in a heartbeat. 

I had no idea what possessed me to close the door to his room and lock it, knowing the repercussions could be severe if we were caught. But Eric didn't seem to mind; his green eyes widened, watching my every move like a hawk.

"It was really pretty and all... The drawing, I mean," I said, inching closer to where he had sat down on the bed. "But would you maybe want some inspiration for the next one?"

Eric's plush, pink lips parted, eyes rounding out in surprise. Despite his shock, his big hands reached out for me as I came closer, and he pulled me in between his legs. I could feel him caressing my back through my shirt, holding me with the utmost gentle touch. "I'll take all I can get," he murmured, looking up at me through his brows, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. 

I let out a giggle as he pressed his lips against my stomach through my shirt, enjoying the intense feeling of someone against my skin again after all this time. Eric pulled away, glancing at the door before slowly trailing his fingers under my shirt, testing the waters. 

It didn't take long before that wasn't enough for him-- my breath hitched as Eric grabbed my waist, pulling me down with him on the bed. I barely had time to think before the euphoric feeling of being kissed engulfed me. Our lips met in an open, soft kiss, almost as though we were scared to break the other if we were too needy or harsh. As I straddled him, I felt his hands tugging at my shirt, dipping back under the fabric once more. His fingers gently ghosted over my lower back, eventually ending up trailing small circles with his thumbs along the underside of my bra. 

If I hadn't been so starved of any human contact in here, I would've never jumped the opportunity like this. But none of us knew how long we had until the guards would bust us, and it only fueled the adrenaline pumping through our veins. Our kisses became desperate, hungry, and I let out a whimper against his lips as he took the liberty of cupping my chest, feeling me up to his heart's delight. I knew I had been waiting for this moment since the first time I saw him, and I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers-- I decided to let him do whatever he wanted to me, no matter what. 

I could feel Eric's cock twitch beneath me, clearly aroused. It was also at this moment that he made me sit up, tugging my shirt off of me before laying back down to scan me. Was he memorizing my body for his next sketch? It wasn't every night that I had a handsome stranger beneath me like this, so I allowed him to trail his hands up and down my body, lips parting in delight. "Fuck... Yeah, this will do," he murmured, pupils dilating at the sight before him whether he wanted them to or not.

"You sure?" I asked, giggling to myself. My hands rested against his broad chest, letting out a sigh of delight; God, he was sexy. As I shifted in his lap, Eric's breath hitched as I seemingly sat down in the exact right spot. Almost as though he was possessed by instinct for a moment, he grabbed my hips, rocking me against him through the fabric of our clothes. 

Who would've thought I'd be dry-humping this stranger and enjoy it so much? My hands gripped his shirt, a quiet moan spilling past my lips-- I had forgotten this feeling. This was mostly something I did when I was a teenager, before I figured out how to have proper sex with my high school boyfriend. But it felt so damn fucking good, desperate; it didn't take long before I leaned back down, capturing his plush lips in another kiss. 

I craved him like water. I wanted him against me, in me, for him to take me in every possible position ever-- a deep, dark part of me knew I would be insatiable from now on. 

But our moment of ecstasy was interrupted when a guard started banging his fist against the door, his muffled yells barely registering through my arousal. Despite my dazed state, it didn't take me long to drape my shirt back on, climbing off Eric with wobbly knees. "Shit," I mumbled, turning to him with wide eyes. "I'm screwed. We're screwed."

Everything about him was so damn beautiful. The kiss-swollen lips definitely didn't help how gorgeous I thought he looked right now. Despite the situation, knowing we were in deep shit, Eric let out a soft chuckle; "I don't think you're screwed enough, actually. We'll get to that another time," 

My eyes widened as I gave into a light giggle. There was no way this was happening-- had my naughty rehab dreams come true? The guard banging against the door was drowned out by the incessant ringing in my ears that festered through my mind as Eric leaned down to kiss me one last time; "I hope to see you around, if they don't kill us,"

"Yeah," I breathed, only now realizing how tall he was as I looked up to meet his gaze. This man was towering over me. Holy shit. "Can't wait to see your next masterpiece."

I couldn't wait. I really couldn't.

(a/n: PART 2, PART 3 here!! enjoy<33)

[mortalityplays]

You need more free art.

I quit my job yesterday. Well, actually I quit my job eight weeks ago, but they finally released me yesterday for good behaviour. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do - but I do it for the wrong reasons. Working for major charities, you learn very fast that 'I want to make the world a better place' is a phrase you use to ask people for money, not to give them things. I was an ass-backwards fit for that world.

You need more free art. I need more free art. Everyone has felt the shift in our media landscape over the last ten years, away from access and towards nickel-and-diming the human experience. That lack of access is making life and culture worse for all of us, across the board. Paywalled news sites leave us less informed, attacks on the Internet Archive leave us less capable of research. Algorithmic social feeds and streaming walled gardens trap us inside smaller and smaller demographic bubbles, where we are increasingly only likely to encounter ideas that have been curated for us by marketing departments. Hasty efforts to resist AI commodification have only led to more artists locking their work away and calling for even more onerous systems of copyright law. This is not good for us.

We all need more free art.

So what am I going to do about it?

This is a question I have been asking myself for years. It's easy to sit here feeilng frustrated and thinking 'boy I hope SOMEONE does SOMETHING'. It's harder to take action in a world where I still have rent to pay. But hard doesn't mean impossible. Sometimes hard just means time-consuming, frustrating and slow. And sometimes it's worth doing something time-consuming, frustrating and slow because...I want to make the world a better place.

I'm going to do this:

1. From April 1st, I am relaunching as a freelance writer and editor.

This is the one that will (hopefully) help to pay the bills. I am a very good and experienced editor. I've worked on hollywood movies, I'm a member of the Chartered Institute of Editors and Proofreaders, I have clients who have been coming to me exclusively for more than 10 years.

Alongside bigger contract jobs, I am going to refocus on offering my services to small-press creators at a reduced rate. That means you, graphic novelists. That means you, itch and amazon writers. I want to help you develop your work, the same way I help large organisations. You can learn more about what an editor even does and what kind of pricing you can expect here.

2. I'm also going to start giving shit away. Like, constantly.

Next week I'm going to launch a new free shop. If you're unfamiliar, a free shop, giveaway shop, swap shop, etc. is an anarchist tradition of setting up a storefront where anyone can take what they like for no cost. Offline, this often means second-hand clothes, tools, furniture, food etc. Online, I am going to be giving away digital art. Copyright-free, no strings attached. It will (eventually) feature everything from print-res posters to zines, poems, tattoo flash, t-shirt designs and anything else we come up with.

Yes, I said 'we' - while this is a curated collection, it will feature work from a variety of credited and anonymous artists and activists, all of whom have agreed to give their work away to the public domain. Some of it will be practical, some of it will be political, but a lot of it will be decorative or personal. This is, in part, a response to recent difficulty I had finding somewhere that would print a one-off joke poster for a friend that featured the word 'faggot'. Enough. No middlemen - no explaining ourselves. Just print our shit and enjoy it.

I'm very, very excited about this project. I'll have more to say about it closer to the launch, but you can expect it to go live on March 27th.

2.2 I forgot to mention the ACTUAL LAUNCH GIVEAWAY

To celebrate my launch, I am going to be giving away a ton of physical prints. When I went looking for my old stock to see if it was worth setting a new (paid) storefront up, I realised I had way more old work in storage than I thought. This will be announced in its own right on Monday, but this is why I've been hinting you should go follow my Patreon.

On April 1st, I will pick 8 random patrons (from across all tiers including non-paying followers!) and mail them a bundle of assorted prints and postcards. The prize pool includes A3 and A4 posters, packs of A6 postcards, and printed minicomics that I've previously sold for up to £12 each.

You don't have to be a paying subscriber to enter - this is strictly no-purchase necessary. It is purely and entirely a celebration of the concept of GIVING ART AWAY FOR FREE.

3. PORN, YOU PERVERTS

Because I still have to pay to stay alive, I am going to be subsidising all this free art with the introduction of Fuck You Fridays. Starting from March 29th, I will drop a new 18+ short story on the last Friday of every month, over on itch.io (yes I know my page is desolate right now, don't worry I'll get there).

The first edition, Go Fuck Yourself, is about, well - telling your boss where to stick it. Julia has had it with her millionaire man-child manager, and is just about ready to let him know what she really thinks. It's a short and steamy 5k words, with a gorgeous cover illustration by @taylor-titmouse, and you can pick it up for $3 starting from March 29th.

4. ANOTHER BIG SURPRISE

I'm keeping this one under wraps for now, but April 1st will also play host to one more (FREE) launch. If you've been following me for a long time, you might remember the other significance of this date (no not April Fool's day, though that is certainly thematically relevant to this entire effort). That's all I'll say right now. Watch this space.

tl;dr: I'm sick of paywalls and career ladders. I'm literally putting my money where my mouth is. More free art for everyone and I'm not kidding around!!!

[milkykotek]

success story: celebrity crush turned boyfriend

First off, I'm aware people may not believe me. However, that's completely fine! I simply don't care, because it happened, and I wanted to share. I will not be sharing explicit details due to privacy reasons for both me and my boyfriend, especially since he is a popular actor.

It took me a few weeks because I didn't want to jump into dating immediately. However, you can immediately manifest anything and quantum jump! I chose to do it step by step.

"Dp" is a term used in the LOA (Law of Affirmation, Assumption and/or Attraction) community to describe your desired person. It can be anyone. 3D is the 3d dimension, the world you see in front of you. 4D is your thoughts and the reality where everything you want is accomplished.

It happened, but... what did?

I manifested my celebrity crush! I've been interested in him for some time now (due to personal reasons me and my now ex boyfriend – whom I manifested, too – have broken up). It was quite a wild ride, to be completely honest, and as always, I turned out successful!

There seems to be a blockage many face while manifesting celebrities, or otherwise famous/popular people. They're putting them on a pedestal, and so shifting the focus from actually manifesting to idolizing them. Of course, if you're manifesting a celebrity sp, you're most likely a fan of them already – that's not the point.

You're god, you're on top of the universe, you're the most important person there is. I don't care, and neither should you, about your circumstances. They're nothing but that – a circumstance in the 3D. As we all know, the 3D reflects our beliefs, assumptions, and the things we attract by engaging them. We engage them by giving them attention and reacting. An example can be someone giving you a dirty look – "Oh my god, they hate me!," you could think, and that is your assumption. You're not sure if they were even looking at you, because they could've been looking behind you, or simply have a resting b*tch face. And so, you thinking they frowned at you is an assumption. It's quite easy to create one.

And it's also easy to change that! The LOA (Law of Attraction, Assumption and/or Affirmation) community likes to overcomplicate manifesting by claiming it is hard to change your beliefs. It really is not. Every time you encounter a negative thought (thoughts create assumptions, assumptions show up in the 3D), simply change it. It's as easy as it seems. "I feel so sad", you can change that by saying, "I'm so happy and relaxed". Don't accept things you don't want to experience. Something happened that upset you? No, it didn't. Instead of dwelling on it, ignore it or affirm "It never happened", create a new story, "(something else) happened".

how did you manifest a celebrity dp?

You manifest a celebrity just like you manifest anyone else. They're human, and I don't believe in free will – anything I don't want, I change. It may sound weird, but is there even such thing as normal when it comes to manifesting and all the possibilities the universe offers?

The only thing you must do is take them off the pedestal and regain your power and control. It's not about them – it's about you. They're the obsessed one, they're the one manifesting you, you're on their mind.

If you're searching for a recipe, there is none. However, I can share a few ingredients – things that helped me:

— affirming. Affirming is nothing more than repeating what you want to happen, ex. "My dp loves me."

— persisting. You really don't want to give up until you see results. Of course, it doesn't mean you have to manifest 24/7, but then again, we think all the time, and so we manifest all the time, too.

— living in the end. Living in the end is living as if you already had your desire. How would you feel? How would you act, what would you do? Surely you wouldn't be stressing over results and whatever it is you're manifesting, because you'd already have it. Belief isn't necessary as long as you affirm and persist, but it sure does help.

— having someone to talk to. Having someone you can talk to about your manifestation journey and being supported was really important to me. I want to thank my best friends Star and Aurora, for always supporting and believing in me ❤️. Others would've called me delusional but you guys stood by my side.

I decided to delete the images proof due to rude comments and bullying in my asks.

Just breathe. For this part, I wanted to share some affirmations I used.

"Everything I want is mine. Everything I want, I get. I want it, I've got it. I'm a master manifestor. I always manifest whatever I desire and want."

"My dp (insert their name) loves me. My dp wants me. My dp is obsessed with me. My dp constantly texts me. My dp is texting me right now. My dp misses me. I am constantly on my dp's mind. My dp is constantly thinking about me. My dp is my boyfriend (or girlfriend, partner, anything you desire). I am my dp's best friend and soulmate."

Good luck ❤️. 222

[gothicprep]

i've been meaning to write something for a while now about how misinformation is not a partisan issue, it's just an issue in general. i was mulling over writing something about how infowars waterboards statistics into saying whatever alex jones wants – i'll still probably do that in the future – but it's not something that exactly supports my thesis here.

but, lucky me, i had a perfect example fall into my lap this week.

so, was andrew tate taken into custody over twitter beef with greta thunberg? the short answer is "no" but i'll elaborate.

here's the primary romanian news report about the cops taking the tate brothers into custody. the way that this has been reported in US news media has basically been that a pizza box in andrew tate's video response to thunberg helped romanian authorities confirm his location. here's a daily beast article that insinuates this:

In a video rant he uploaded to Twitter, in which he smoked a cigar and tried to brush off the online spat, he unwittingly displayed a pizza box from a local pizza chain—alerting authorities looking for him to his presence in the country.

here's the problem with that, though – none of the romanian journalists who reported on this story said anything about the pizza box thing. there's also a huge problem with these stories just... citing each other.

if you dig through the citation loop long enough, you end on this daily star article that cites tweets (jurnelism!) from, of course, alejandra caraballo

According to Alejandra Caraballo, a writer and clinical instructor posting on Twitter: “Romanian authorities needed proof that Andrew Tate was in the country so they reportedly used his social media posts.

(as an aside, if you follow her on twt, i'd heavily recommend against doing that. she spews bullshit like her life depends on it and i think this is inexcusable.)

these are caraballo's tweets in question:

the source for this is the romanian article i linked to earlier in this post. it doesn't say any of this. at least, the english translated version of it doesn't. for what it's worth, i'm not a romanian speaker, and i don't have any benchmark for judging if google's translation service is missing linguistic nuances. here's what it actually says:

Sources close to the investigation stated, for Gândul , that shortly after the completion of the computer expertise, the authorities waited for the right moment to catch the Tate brothers, who were always out of the country.

After seeing, including on social networks, that they were together in Romania, the DIICOT prosecutors mobilized the special troops of the Gendarmerie and descended, by force, on their villa in Pipera, but also on other addresses.

it's also probably worth pointing out that tate's villa was previously searched in april. while the article does say that social media was used to help confirm their location, it doesn't say anything about pizza boxes. and, like, given that tate is a prolific social media poster and was tweeting out videos of romania on sunday, i think it's safe to assume they had a wealth of other information to go off.

and if you don't want to take my word for it, nyt and wapo both reported that the spokesperson for the romanian prosecutor presiding over the case denied the pizza box thing:

Speculation online centered on whether a distinctive pizza box featured in one of Mr. Tate’s tweets to Ms. Thunberg had helped lead the authorities to him, but Ramona Bolla, a spokeswoman for the Directorate for the Investigation of Organized Crime and Terrorism, told The New York Times on Friday that that was not the case.

anyway, ain't it funny how caraballo's made the fuck up pizza tweet got 76 million views, 97k retweets, and 525k likes, while her appended correction got 78k views, 100 retweets, and 820 likes. her initial "source: my mind" tweet is still up. ain't. it. funny.

[lyrefromthesea]

oh! Since you also do requests with hybrids, could I ask for wolfhybrids (or fox) hashiras x reader? Like hashiras see the reader as the perfect mate material, so they try to get closer to them by courting them in their own ways

Male Hashira x Reader - Prey tell?

author's note: the title is a pun, my humor is dry. i fell down the stairs and sit in a hospital since yesterday.

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: wolf!hybrids, a/b/o, kny!au

i've been thinking a lot about this idea now, especially which rank each hashira would have. alpha? beta? omega? it was quite hard, but i allowed myself to create a little au for better understanding.

to not mess things up, i decided that the reader will be an omega in this au. all the hashira are considered alphas, which of course has a reason too.

i've went through the a/b/o thing over the past two or three days and to put it simply: alpha is the equivalent to strong, omegas are weak in comparison.

the hashira are the strongest swordsmen in the corp, it would only be right to rank them as an alpha (or a beta).

you, on the other hand, have been fighting your way to the top. omegas are weaker than most, but you possess a strong mind, which helped you work your way up.

naturally, the day will come that you catch their attention, if only for the fact that you're an omega. i also imagine omegas to be more rare than alphas and betas, since they take on a weaker role in this au.

Tengen:

• he's smitten since day one - an alpha different from any you've met yet. smug smirk and tall body towering over you the minute your scent hits his nose.

• your scent gives him the same feeling the scents of his three wives do. you're so small, perhaps not physically, but your weak omega presence makes his protective instincts flare up.

• just another day or two and three women are by your side, two betas and another omega looking at you with happiness and a feeling of finally coming home.

• you'll learn to love all of them - courting one is courting all. Tengen's not surprised to come home and find all of you nuzzled together in a cuddle pile.

• and if that isn't enough to turn you into a proper mate of his, shiny presents and lots of time squished between four other people will surely do it.

Obanai:

• small and weak. how did you end up near the alphas? he's suspicious when he heard of you, no omega would be able to turn into a hashira. he needed to see that for himself.

• nearly falls off his spot in the tree when he sees you and a comforting scent hits his nose. he's almost embarrassed by the way his fluffy ears are twitching, trying to listen to your conversation with Rengoku.

• he follows you around for a few days, mustering up the courage to talk to you after nearly a week. you looked up when the man sat in front of you, another bowl of food in hand.

• he doesn't talk much, only telling you that omegas should eat more than you do. you awkwardly look at him for a while, taking the bowl after another minute and thanking him.

• the action alone got him blushing under his mask, bringing you food for the next month when he finds you eating somewhere around the training grounds.

Rengoku:

• he's one of the calmer ones when he hears about your rank as a hashira. an omega got ranked this high? what incredible talent you must possess!

• he's by no means against your way of living, but he can't keep his mouth shut about how "you should stay home and get protected by a proper alpha!" it's no insult and you can sense that much, but you find yourself disagreeing.

• once he's sure that you're the perfect material for a mate, he'll court you the proper way, just like his mother once told him.

• it's just that his "proper courting" nearly has you running away in embarrassment.

• "dear [name], allow me to show you my interest through the traditional ways of courting one's future mate!"

• your agreement only came a day later, after you survived his booming voice right behind you in the midst of a forest's silence. next time he shouldn't sneak up on you like that.

Sanemi:

• hah? ridiculous. a small thing like you is supposed to work midst the likes of him? don't make him laugh, he could eat you up for breakfast.

• with that attractive smell reeking from your body, you wouldn't survive a day. he would see you become a demon's snack sooner than later.

• his jaw nearly hits the ground when he sees you outsmart the lower rank demon in front of you with speed and flexibility instead of strength.

• he grumbles about your stupid cute presence, sweetly roaming around him. you're truthfully just going on about your day, but it's enough to make his mind go blank.

• you're the perfect mix of strong and obedient for him, listening so well to him, because "he's done this job longer than you and you were happy to learn."

• internally smacks himself when he tries signalling his courting intentions by gifting you clothes heavily drenched in his scent.

Giyuu:

• he didn't voice his worries, but an omega living this kind of life? any alpha would be worried, right? especially since omegas have gotten so rare these days!

• but, oh, you're so sweet and nice. you once cooked him some soup and he swore you needed an alpha's protection - his protection.

• if he could just steal you away and ensure your safety, but he knew that would make you unhappy. so he makes sure to keep you safe by following you like a lap dog.

• it's not uncommon to see the new omega and the gloomy hashira take a walk together. people tend to avoid you, feeling unwell because of the intense stare the alpha behind you gives them.

• some of them swore they have seen the two of you nuzzle against each other. a hint of his scent had previously started lingering on your uniform too.

Gyomei:

• is it just your imagination or have you been joining missions with the stone hashira more often? no, it's definitely true.

• ever since he has taken a liking to you, he had started courting you by ensuring your safety and happiness.

• he doesn't know a lot about proper courting, mostly because it didn't interest him for most of his life. his courting is really special, but you don't mind.

• instead of bestowing gifts upon you, he takes you to special places he has found, most of them with a unique smell - a waterfall or a meadow full of flowers.

• he tries to gouge your reactions, mostly trusting his ears and tail, because he sadly can't see your beautiful face.

• you find yourself blushing with the way his ears often twitch around you, trying to listen to your every breath and laugh.

• your favourite times are when a protective tail brushes against your back, inviting you into a long session of cuddling.

[novemberheart]

{overview} Johnny and Kyle take care of you…..you make a new friend

{warnings} fem reader, cursing, a/b/o dynamics, PRICEGHOST, SOAPGAZ, poly141, MDNI, oral- female receiving

Chapter 19 <- Chapter 20 -> Chapter 21

None of you wanted to spend hours in a car, especially with the boys and their long legs. They opted for a plane, causing you more nerves than you knew what to do with.

“Get over here,” Simon commanded, all of you spread out at the airport. Your eyes widened and you trotted over to him, breathing a sigh of relief when he sprayed you down with scent blockers. “I'm not sitting next to lemonhead the whole flight,” he tsked. You rolled your eyes, but relieved you wouldn't be stinking up the plane.

“Bon-Bon, I've got something for you,” Johnny smiled, patting the seat next to him. “You don't have to take one, but I think it'll help,” he explained. He pulled an off-brand over-the-counter stress reliever pack.

“Did you take one?” you questioned softly. You've always been wary of drugs, even when you’re hurt you hold off taking aspirin as long as possible.

“Not today, flying doesn't bother me too much. I take them to help me sleep sometimes, or calm down when I get in my head a little too much,” he continued, causing you to frown.

“Does that happen a lot?” You questioned, the pounding in your heart giving you enough courage to hold your hand out. He popped a pill out placing it in your palm.

“It's meltaway,” he explained quickly. You popped it on your tongue and it melted instantly, even though your mouth was dry. “Happens here and there. Happens to all of us, yeah?” He smiled reassuringly.

“Guess that's true,” you sighed. “If you ever need to get your mind off of something, I can always help,” you whispered the last part in his ear and you giggled when you felt him smile against your cheek.

“I'll have to take you up on that,” he whispered back. You jumped when you felt his teeth graze your earlobe.

“Johnny,” you swatted.

“Alright, lovebirds. Not that you heard but it's time for us to board,” John chuckled, eyeing the both of you.

You were content in your middle seat. Johnny urged you to sit in the window seat, but you didn't want to be reminded you were soaring through the sky in a tube. Johnny sat in the window seat, you in the middle and Simon on the end seat so he could stretch his legs. John and Kyle were a few rows behind you, and you would periodically sit up in your seat to look back at them. The medicine seemed to help, although it could just be a placebo. Regardless, you felt safe between Johnny and Simon. You rested your head against Johnny’s shoulder, his hand finding it home on your knee, fiddling with the fabric of your tights. Simon had his arms crossed over his chest, looking imposing as always. He needed a chill pill.

You had been thinking a lot about what John had said to you last night.

“Your heats comin’ up in a few weeks.”

You couldn't deny that it had been looming over your head, especially with how excitable you had been lately. Your heats have always been irregular. They followed the basic timeline of every eight weeks, but sometimes they would skip over, or be a week late or early. You had multiple tests done and doctors concluded that it was just because your hormones were out of whack from not being in a pack for so long. You wondered if that was true. If it was, how long would it take for you to even out? Did you need to be marked? Or just bonded? You had definitely bonded with them. If the timeline was correct then you would have about one week left from your last heat.

That timeline was for more than just your heats, though. It also was a timeline for your relationships. You wanted John to help you with your heats, you felt more than comfortable enough with him and you were overwhelmingly attracted to him. You also wouldn't mind if Kyle or Johnny decided to step in either.

There was one person you weren't entirely sure about yet.

Simon.

It wasn't that you weren’t attracted to him. You just didn't feel entirely comfortable with him in that way yet. While you two had your own interactions and bonding times, there was just something missing. He treated you like a friend more than an omega. Actually, he treated you like you were an annoying child who he was stuck babysitting. The rest of them had courted you, complimented you, and made you feel like you were the most important thing in the world to them. Simon had hardly done any of that.

There was also all the fighting that had gone on between the two of you. And all those things he said about you that night when you overheard him talking to Johnny. You know you should get over it, you thought you had, but sometimes when your room was too quiet you could hear those words echo throughout it.

You could only imagine how upset he would be if you admitted any of that. How hurt he would be if you said you weren't comfortable enough with him yet. Maybe you should just wait till you feel comfortable enough with him before having any of them help with your heats.

Yet the thought of waiting any longer to be with them, especially John, felt nearly tortuous.

You didn't want to hurt Simon though.

Seems like the best choice was just to wait.

Who knows? Maybe you'll get lucky eough to have your heat skip again.

Kyle was able to talk Johnny into booking an Airbnb in Inverness. If it was up to the Scot you five would be fighting for your lives in the most rural area he could find. As long as it was in the Highlands, Johnny could be talked into it.

“I don't want to leave,” you sighed, already getting a sore neck with how often you were turning your head to look around.

“Good thing we just got here,” Kyle chuckled.

“Come on. Let's get settled inside then we could do some exploring,” John ushered you inside a beautiful stone house. Your stomach rumbled at the sound of exploring. “We’ll take care of that too,” he chuckled, your bag slung over his shoulder.

It had two bedrooms, both with a large bed and a bathroom. Simon and John took the bigger bedroom, with Kyle and Johnny taking the other one. You put all of your stuff with the alphas because it had the most room. Everyone knew you would be bouncing around, though.

It was already almost dinner time and you were starving, the only thing in your stomach was a blueberry muffin from the cafeteria before you had left. Simon pulled out a box of your favorite crackers from his duffle, tossing them to you. He must have swiped them from the kitchen before you left. You thanked him heavily, already digging in. It was just another example of how Simon worked.

He could be incredibly thoughtful when he wasn't frustrated with you.

At least that's how you saw it.

The truth was more complex than you knew.

It was one of those nights he couldn't fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried. His legs are restless and his heart beats a little too fast for a trained soldier like him. He pulled himself out of bed, heading through the bathroom, and slowly pushing John’s bedroom door open. He hoped you weren't in there tonight. The alpha grunted, the slightest creak in the door waking him up.

“You alright?” John croaked, his voice sending a shiver down Simon’s spine. He didn't say a word, pushing the alpha out from the middle of his own bed crawling under the sheets himself, groaning as the smell of you drifted off of them. “Somethin’ eatin’ you?” John yawned, rolling onto his stomach so he was draped over Simon’s back. It's what Simon needed. Grounding.

“It’s shite,” Simon brushed off.

“Course it is, it’s comin’ from you,” John chuckled. Simon grunted, bringing his elbow back to knock against the alpha. “Spit it out.”

“She”- he cut himself off with a sigh.

“It's me, Simon,” John reminded, his lips holding still against a scar on the other alpha's shoulder.

“She doesn't like me as much as she used to,” Simon grunted.

“She didn't know you then.”

“Thanks, John,” Simon huffed, making the captain chuckle.

“I didn't mean it like that,” John sighed. “I mean to say, she's getting to know you now. You two are navigating a whole new relationship, and to be fair it has had its turbulence. In the beginning, she was just trying to not step on any toes or cross any boundaries. Now she's trying to work her way into the pack. Growin’ pains, Simon,” John explained. “You are both doing fine considering you've never been around an omega and she’s never had an alpha-let alone two.”

“You’ve hardly ever had an omega. Other than ones to help you through a rut,” Simon added. “You know what to do.”

“I was worried about it before she came. Wonderin’ if I could be a good alpha to her like she deserves. Then once she got here it just felt natural. You have instincts too, just allow them,” John spoke.

“Not like there's any room too,” Simon huffed.

“What's that supposed to mean?” John hummed, leaning on his elbow.

“You dogs are all over her all the time. Not like I could get a moment with her if I wanted to. Every time I think about doing something- one of you has already done it,” Simon explained. John supposes he has a point. You weren't high-maintenance and you were almost always smothered with attention.

“So do it anyway. No such thing as a too-spoiled omega.”

All of you went to a pub down the street for dinner. It felt so free being away from the base. Your pack was all yours without worry of being ushered to the ends of the earth.

You were situated between Kyle and John, just like back home. You trusted Johnny to pick you out something from the menu, as long as it didn't have eyeballs still on it when it came out of the kitchen.

“Steak for me and cullen skink for the girl,” Johnny winked over at you. You were half tempted to google it before the waitress left just in case.

“And what can I get you?” A waitress hummed to Simon. You didn't like the way she eyed him.

“Scotch pie,” he answered, eyeing her back. Not in the same way, this was to deter her.

“Mmmh, that's my favorite,” She smiled, turning to the rest of the table. “And for you?”

“Fix your face, lovie,” Kyle teased after she left. It was then you realized you were scowling at Simon. Well not at him, but at what just occurred. You could tell Simon was trying to bite back a smirk.

The waitress came back numerous times before the food was ready just to ‘check in.’ You could tell it was starting to bother Johnny too. It wasn't that Simon was just letting it happen, he was ignoring her, his eyes bouncing between you and Johnny. Regardless, he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it in the slightest. The final straw was her hand resting on his shoulder, causing everyone's chest to rumble with a warning. She quickly retracted it with a stuttered apology. You had a different waitress for the rest of the night.

It started off teasing and gentle. His lips ghosting over yours until you made a move to connect the space, only for him to pull back.

It's his fault really. Teasing you like that and then expecting you to just let him go after.

You pulled away, trying to get as much air in your lungs as possible. Kyle was relentless, his lips still attached to the corner of your mouth, making a path all the way down to your collarbone. Making out and breathing at the same time was still a skill you hadn't learned yet.

“Ky,” you breathed. He quickly reattached your lips with his, your body sinking further into the mattress from the force of it.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Johnny grunted, coming out of the bathroom. Kyle pulled away, looking over his shoulder at the Scot, who had nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. You were still panting under him, your lips red, eyes foggy. Kyle was in no better condition. Kyle winked at Johnny before turning his attention back to you. Your hands wrapping around the back of his neck, your heels digging into his lower back, desperate for him to be as close as possible.

You heard shuffling in the corner but your mind flew out the window when Kyle gently rolled his hips against yours. You gasped, your half-lidded eyes gazing up at Kyle. You bucked your hips, hoping to get an ounce of the friction.

“I got you, lovie,” Kyle whispered along with another roll of his hips. You heard Johnny curse again, the bed sinking under his weight.

“How mad do you think the alphas would be if we had a little taste?” Johnny murmured, his teeth grazing your shoulder. Kyle groaned, resulting in a whine escaping your throat.

“That's a good question,” Kyle hummed, mirroring Johnnys' actions on your other shoulder. You felt faint. “What do you think, love?” Kyle asked, making you shudder.

“Please,” you gasped. It was the only thing you could manage, still not entirely sure where this was going to lead. The tightness in your stomach was becoming painful. Kyle’s hands ran soothingly up and down your sides before dipping under your tank top.

“Tell us if you want us to stop any time,” Kyle assured. You could feel Johnny nod his head in agreement.

“Want you to feel comfortable, Bon,” he added. You agreed softly, your hands digging themselves into each of their shirts. Your tank top had been pulled above your chest, your hands leaving their shirts so Kyle could pull it off. You had no time to even think about being shy, your newly exposed skin being attacked by mouths and hands.

“So fucking soft,” Johnny growled. You were a lamb spread out for these hungry wolves. A tongue ran across your nipple making you jolt.

“So sensitive,” Kyle purred. “Anyone ever touched you like this?” he questioned, his hips twitching at the thought. You quickly shook your head, your eyes glossed over. They both growled, their teeth nipping at your skin to mark you as theirs. Their eyes met each other and a mutual understanding going straight over your head. The position suddenly changed, your back resting against Kyle’s chest, Johnny kissing between the valley of your breasts before stopping just above the waistband of your shorts. Kyle's hands rested on your inner thighs, keeping you spread so Johnny could fit his broad body between your legs. Johnny's dark eyes stared up at you for approval, his teeth pulling at your shorts. Your body was on fire, the scent in the room overwhelming. You nodded your head, your fingers running through his mohawk. He grinned his fingers curling in your shorts tugging them down quickly.

“Gentle,” Kyle growled, his hands maneuvering under the sides of your underwear. His thumb rubbing smooth circles on your hips to make up for Johnny’s actions.

“Says the one chewin’ a hole in her shoulder,” Johnny huffed back. Kyle smirked against your skin, placing a kiss against the red mark forming against you. You couldn't make eye contact with Johnny as he lowered himself between your thighs, pressing a kiss against your covered core. Your thighs twitched, and Kyle gripped them to keep them from slamming shut.

Not that Johnny would mind that. Johnny repeated his actions a few times before his tongue darted out. The fabric of your panties left you with little friction to ease the ache.

“Johnny, please,” you urged, rotating your hips slightly. Johnny groaned against you, the vibration going straight to your core.

“She asks so nicely,” Kyle complimented, beginning to pull down your underwear for you. Johnny agreed, tugging your underwear down the rest of the way.

“John’s going to love that,” Johnny smirked. You whined at the thought, your thighs starting to jerk shut again. You missed the way Johnny shoved your underwear in his pocket. “Fucking beautiful,” Johnny whispered to himself, his eyes falling over your body. “Missin’ out up there,” Johnny commented, his scruff rubbing against the inside of your thigh. His mouth was watering at this point and he made very little effort to hide it. The desire to please you is the only thing keeping his mind from shutting down.

Kyle grabbed behind your knees, pulling them up closer to your chest. The cold air chilling your core was quickly being replaced by Johnny’s desperate tongue. You squealed, your hands slapping over your mouth. They both chuckled, Johnny’s hands reaching up to tug at your wrists. He intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Kyle lulled, his hands rubbing up and down the insides of your thighs. “Already shaking,” he chuckled.

“It's too much,” you whimpered, your hands trying to push away at his face. He tightened his grip. You were being devoured. The sensation was already new to you, not to mention the passion behind it.

“Just relax, pretty. Let him make you feel good,” Kyle talked you through it. “You really want it to stop, just say stop.”

You ignored the feeling of Johnny's smirk against you. You tried to relax your body, giving up the little control you had against the two betas. Johnny switched the pattern of his tongue, causing a breathy moan to escape you.

“Do that again,” Kyle urged. Johnny was already one step ahead, the sensation making your eyes roll to the back of your head. It wasn't as overwhelming as his previous actions. It was just enough pleasure to make your body feel like it was floating, but not enough to make you want to scream. Your soft moans were timed with his mouth, the sounds making it harder for them to have self-restraint.

“How she taste?” Kyle asked, his hand gripping onto Johnny’s mohawk. He knew the Scot wouldn't separate his tongue from you even if the world was ending. Johnny groaned at the hand yanking him away.

“Like peaches just out of the oven,” Johnny said quickly, his tongue already darting out to catch another taste of you. He nipped your thighs, waiting not so patiently for Kyle to release his hair. He pushed Johnny’s face back against you, Johnny’s eyes rolling into the back of his head. “See what you do to us, love?” Kyle hummed.

You were close. Your whole body beginning to twitch, your moans mixing with breathy pants.

“That's it, baby,” Kyle groaned, taking every ounce of you in. “Fuckin’ beautiful,” He snarled, the grip on your thighs tightening. Every second felt like it would be your last, the pressure in your stomach building and building until suddenly it burst. The warmth in your stomach exploded, causing bliss to spread over every inch of your body. You couldn't even moan, or move, instead, your body stilled, before melting against Kyles. All of you were limp, your euphoria spreading to them even though they had yet to find a release themselves. The stillness left your body, the shakiness returning.

Johnny pressed a kiss against you one last time, mumbling something about ‘seeing her again soon’ before crawling his way up the both of you. They moved your body around, so everyone was under the covers. Johnny pressed a kiss against your cheek making you swat him away, feeling slowly returning to your body.

“Your face is wet,” you whined, rolling over to bury your face in Kyle's chest. You felt movement above you, pulling your head away only to see the two betas locked together, their tongues intertwined. You were too tired to care. As long as you were being cuddled you didn't care what they did.

“Tastes as good as we imagined, yeah?” Johnny chuckled. You heard Kyle agree, before falling asleep.

You were woken up by Kyle. You groaned, stretching your limbs as much as you could. You were a bit sore from all the twitching you did last night and you could still feel some wetness between your thighs. Johnny was purring next to you, strong arms wrapped around your waist. Your sleepy eyes peered up, locking eyes with Kyle. His gaze was soft and they held nothing but adoration in them.

“Morning, princess,” he whispered, making a snicker. The two betas did treat you like a princess, so the nickname was fitting.

��Go back to sleep,” Johnny croaked his grip on you tightening.

“Wanna go on a walk?” Kyle whispered. “It rained all night.” A sleepy smile spread across your face and you quickly nodded your head. Kyle unraveled Johnny's arms from you.

“Wanna come, Mac?” you questioned, pressing a kiss against his temple. His lips quirked, but he buried himself deeper in the bed.

“I'll keep the bed warm,” he yawned, already falling back asleep. Kyle grabbed your tank top off the floor, putting it over your head for you.

“So beautiful,” he murmured again, making you flush. No one had ever spoken to you with such sincerity. You luckily had the instinct to put your toothbrush in their bathroom last night. You couldn't imagine creeping into the alpha room after all the ruckus you caused last night. You're actually not sure if you could ever look them in the eye again. Not that you had done anything wrong…it…just felt awkward. You grabbed your shorts off the floor tugging them on.

You couldn't find your panties.

When you came out of the bathroom Kyle was already dressed in joggers, a sweatshirt, and a vest.

All your clothes were in the alpha room. Fuck.

“What's with the face?” Kyle hummed, pulling you between his knees.

“I don't want to go in there,” you muttered. Kyle cinched his brows before the realization hit him.

“This have anything to do with the little show you put on last night?” he smirked, making you flush even brighter. “Relax, lovie. Nothin’ to be embarrassed about. I can go grab some clothes if you aren't ready, though.”

“Thanks, KyKy!” you cheered.

As soon as he opened the door pillows were thrown at him. He caught them with ease, tossing them back on the bed. He cleared his throat at the heavy scent of alpha musk. Your room wasn't the only one that was busy last night.

“She’s with the two of you for one bloody night,” John growled. Kyle chuckled, opening a window. It was a good thing you didn't come in. You probably would've passed out.

“Best night of our lives,” Kyle tsked, watching the way both the alphas' faces curled. They were jealous. Not because of what happened, but because they hadn't been able to watch. Instead, they were confined to their room, only being able to listen. Using their imagination to pretend the bulky body under them was smaller, softer and sweeter.

“Come here,” John commanded. Kyle plopped a pair of your leggings on the bed, only for John to grab his collar pressing his nose against his neck.

“Good right?” Kyle chuckled, squirming his way out of the alpha's grip.

“She taste that sweet?” John hummed, stretching out, his muscles cracking.

“Sweeter,” Kyle smirked, shutting the bedroom door behind him, getting too much enjoyment from the groans on the other side of it. “Here you are, lovie,” Kyle smiled, passing you your clothes. He was all too pleased with himself.

“There’s a farm that has a petting zoo,” Kyle hummed, swinging both your hands back and forth.

“Really?!”

“They sell baked goods too,” he winked.

“God, you know me so well,” you sighed, shuffling closer to him. The earth was wet and clean, the feeling sinking deep into your bones. The clear air made you think. Made you think about something you've wanted to say for a while, specifically to Kyle. “Kyle, there's something I have to tell you,” you said slowly. “You don't have to comment on it, but I need to get it off my chest.”

“Alright,” he agreed cautiously.

“I love you,” you said it all in one breath.

“Oh thank god,” he said, relieved. “Would be weird if it was just one-sided, yeah?” he smiled at you. “I love you too, sweetheart. Very much.” he whispered the last part, bringing your hand to his lips kissing your knuckles.

You and Kyle were acting like true tourists. Stopping to take pictures with anything you deemed to be ‘exotic.’ The petting zoo was the most fun. You got to feed the animals and you even took a selfie with a sheep that looked like Johnny. It was sent to the boys group chat and Johnny quickly made it his wallpaper.

“Look! Puppies!” you grinned pulling Kyle over to the large pen.

“Lookin’ to adopt?” An older woman in a rocking chair asked. She had overalls on, a few chickens pecking at the ground around her feet, knitting needles in hand. You made a mental note to be like her when you grew up.

“Sadly no,” you replied softly with a smile. The excited bunch ran around the pen, stumbling over each other. Except for one in the very corner, halfway under a blanket.

“That's Peaches,” the woman sighed following your gaze. “She’s free.”

“Peaches?” you questioned mostly to yourself. “Why is she free?” you chimed.

“She’s deaf, not entirely sure she can see either. She doesn't move too much,” the woman frowned.

You frowned too, walking to the other side of the cage where she was.

“Hi, pretty girl,” you whispered, crouching down. Kyle was wincing already having a feeling where this was going. The puppy looked at you with her big black eyes, before moving towards you, her body staying low to the ground.

“Well look at that,” the woman chuckled.

“Do you have a blanket or something we can buy to wrap her in?” Kyle questioned already knowing you weren't going to leave that farm without her. At least it wasn't a sheep or chicken. Mission accomplished in his eyes.

Sorry, I didn't post when I said I would! This series is going by so fast! See you in two days for chapter 21! 🧡

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Help me! I'm hypnotized...

The loser roommate I got stuck with did something to my brain. I didn't think it was possible, but that pathetic fag somehow put me in a trance. I don't remember how: with a pendant or spiral; but it doesn't matter! What matters is that at any second he can say a trigger word, and I end up like this: smiling and flexing like a fucking idiot 'till he releases me.

Sure, I look like I'm alright, but I've been stuck in this pose for two hours. My biceps ache and my shoulders are on fire. Add to that a leg cramp that I cant walk off and you'll realize how awful this torture is.

I'd just been trying to finish an essay (his essay to be exact.) I might be on the football team, but this lazy geek is forcing me to do his homework for him! And even though he ordered me to do that, against my will, he calls me up and says my fucking trigger word! It's fucking ridiculous! I used to go out and party with my teammates on nights like this, but now I'm stuck being this dweeb's mannequin-on-command.

I just know he's going to boss me around when he finally gets here. He'll probably make me cook him dinner again. I'd spit in it if I could -hell, I'd probably poison it if I could- but I know I'll be stuck in my own body again. I hate it when he tells me to smile and serve him like a waiter. God, its humiliating...

He makes me workout during my free time, which I have a lot of now that I can't speak to any of my old buddies. I gotta say that my body's never looked better. I guess their is one upside to being under his control: whenever he tells me to train harder, I have to do it.

The gym is the one area of my life where I can at least pretend that I'm not someone's trained monkey. Still, the fact that I can't even shower without his permission is a pretty harsh reminder. Whenever I get back from a workout, my legs march straight to the table where I sit, flex, and smile while I wait for him to tell me what to do. It doesn't matter how tired or hot I am. Sometimes, he doesn't even let me shower. He just tells me to mop the sweat up with my shirt and then put it back on.

I think the nerd has a thing for sweaty jocks or something. The thought of this creep making me do all this to get his little dick hard pisses me off more than anything...

I applied for a job today. It wasn't because I wanted to. My roommate decided that he wants more spending money, so he turned to me and said that I was going to earn it for him. So it wasn't enough for me to be his personal chef, maid, and eye candy! I have to be his fucking ATM now too?!

The tie wasn't my idea either. He told me to go buy some fancy clothes to make sure I impressed my "future employer." He's such a dweeb, and now he's making me dress like a loser too.

Obviously I nailed the interview. It wasn't hard when he programmed me to say things like "I've always wanted to deliver pizzas," or "I want to be the best employee you've ever had!" He made me sound like such a kiss-ass for a stupid minimum-wage job. Even the guy interviewing me thought I was being a bit excessive! I got hired on the spot, and I'm already scheduled every night this week, because my roommate specifically made me ask for as many hours as possible.

Now that I'm done with probably the most humiliating thing I've ever done, I'm stuck flexing with a tie on 'till that asshole gets home...

I got my first paycheck after a long couple of weeks doing his classwork during the day and delivering pizzas at night. My roommate texted and told me to wait by the front door with my paycheck. Apparently, he's going out tonight with some of his loser friends and wants the cash now. I can't believe I'm about to hand it over to him.

"Hey, handsome," he calls, shutting his car door.

"I'm glad your home, sir. How was your day?"

I do not give a shit about his day! He ordered me to say that whenever he gets back. He's also programmed me to get up and hug him like I'm a fucking queer in love!

"Better now," he purrs, squeezing my butt cheek while we hug, "You should come with me and my friends tonight."

The last thing I want to do is be around him and his pansy-assed friends. "Yes, sir," I smile.

"We're going to a gay bar, and I think you would be an excellent wingman."

My stomach drops at the sound of a gay bar. I don't want to be anywhere near that place, and I really don't want the guy with total control over me parading me around that place like I'm his fucking slut! Where is this going? He wouldn't make me do anything gay, right? The terrifying truth is he could. He could order me to act like a stripper there, or...or worse. Fuck! I don't think there's anything he couldn't make me do. He could order me on my knees right now, and I'd do it with this stupid smile still plastered across my face. He could make me blow his tiny cock, and I'd be helpless to do anything other than enthusiastically suck! I don't want to go to that gay bar. I have to escape.

"Yes, sir," I hear my voice gleefully ring out.

[simplylupin]

Vertigo and Eddie Diaz

because the connection has been made between eddie's current arc and hitchcock's vertigo, i thought i'd give my two cents on the topic as a mediocre film student whose had to study vertigo for two years of her life

so here's a basic (very over-simplified) summary of vertigo for those who are unfamiliar

The protagonist, Scottie, is a policeman who took a break/was discharged/retired because he couldn't save a fellow police officer from falling off a building to his death

Because of this he suffers from vertigo and/or fear of heights

He's hired by his old friend Gavin to follow Gavin's wife, Madeline, for fear that she's been possessed by someone called Carlotta Valdez

He does so, and slowly falls in love with Madeline - and her him

We also learn that Scottie's best friend Midge is in love with him, but he's too obsessed with Madeline to notice Midge

Him and Madeline go to a church bell tower where Madeline seemingly offs herself by jumping off

Some time later, Scottie goes to Madeline's old hotel room, and finds a woman called Judy who looks exactly like Madeline

She agrees to go on a date with him

We, the audience, find out that Judy actually is Madeline (and vise versa). She was hired by Gavin to pretend to be Madeline.

Scottie grows more and more obsessed, forcing Judy to change her appearance to look like Madeline

He makes the connection that Madeline and Judy are the same person, and drives her to the bell tower

He forces her up the tower, over coming his fear of heights

Once at the top, they have a confrontation

A nun appears, scaring Judy and she once more falls to her death (really this time)

So, from what I've gathered, the loose connection between characters is:

Scottie = Eddie

Madeline = Shannon

Midge = Buck

Judy = Kim

The Nun = Marisol

Scottie's unable to save his fellow police officer. Eddie was unable to 'save' the people he pulled out the helicopter: "I pulled them out. But I didn't save them." Because of this he suffers from immense guilt and PTSD (as seen in his season 5 arc). He's unable to move on and this hinders him to a certain extent - just like Scottie.

After Shannon's death, he's thrown through the loop again, with the added bonus of him not having been able to save her too. Scottie's job was to save Madeline, and he failed at that, resulting in her 'death'.

Eddie is constantly trying to find a woman to fill that role of Shannon in his and Christopher's life; we see this with both Ana and now Marisol. He's looking for her in them. Scottie does the same - he visits the places he went with Madeline, he goes to her old room.

Eddie finds Kim, Scottie finds Judy.

For a little while, Judy helps Scottie get over and get closure on Madeline. She fills that empty space and allows him to move on. This is what I think Kim is going to do for Eddie.

She looks so much like Shannon but she simply isn't her. We know in later episodes that Buck is going to meet her and proclaim that she's "nothing like Shannon." There's a clear distinction there - Eddie is only seeing Shannon in her because he wants to, because he's still holding onto that idea. I think Kim is going to be the closing point of this ongoing search for Shannon's 'replacement'; someone who looks exactly like Shannon should be perfect, right? But when she too doesn't 'fill' that role that surely must spark some sort of realisation in Eddie, because if not her then who.

For Scottie, he feels betrayed by Judy. He brings her to the last place he saw Madeline, and ultimately, indirectly, causes her death. Obviously I don't believe Kim is actually going to die, but more the idea of her. She's the final chapter of him pursuing Shannon's ghost.

Midge is Scottie's best friend. They met in college and were engaged for a few weeks before breaking up. They spend a lot of time together, staying at each other's houses and going out. She helps Scottie through his vertigo and acrophobia, and tries to 'bring him back' in his grief. At one point, Midge paints her face onto a painting of Carlotta Valdez, showing that she's there and ready for Scottie's love, if he's willing to give it to her.

I believe, in this scenario, Buck takes on her role (for seemingly obvious reasons). Him and Eddie are best friends, they do so much together, he helps Eddie when he's struggling etc etc. Midge is the idea of the 'other woman', someone who is right in front of Scottie's eyes, someone whose always been there for him. However, Scottie is too obsessed and fixated on Madeline that he can't see this and continually brushes it away. You see where I'm going here...

Although Buck potentially doesn't even realize it himself, he has taken on Shannon's role in the Diaz family for years. Eddie already has the 'replacement' for Shannon that he's so desperately been searching for right in front of his eyes.

In Vertigo, Judy and Madeline are the same person, whereas Shannon and Kim are obviously not. However, the comparison still stands.

Scottie meets Judy and immedietely latches onto her because she looks so much like Madeline (duh) and he is so desperate for anything that'll keep Madeline's memory with him. He makes her undergo a series of phsyical changes (dyeing her hair, changing her wardrobe, her style etc etc) so that she appears more like Madeline - so he can get that closure and pretend.

Eddie clearly isn't going to do this to Kim. However, whatever way you spin it, he is projecting Shannon onto her. He saw her, and thought of Shannon, he pursued her because of that, he's doing all this because of Shannon. He is chasing that closure and that moment were he can be like 'Ah. I've finally found someone who can be Shannon for me and Chris.'

I doubt Kim is going to be around particularly long. As much as it sounds diminishing, she really is just a tool for Eddie to have this realization that nobody can replace Shannon, and that that's okay. He doesn't need to find Shannon 2.0.

Now, in Vertigo, when Scottie and Judy are arguing on the bell tower, a nun appears from the shadows and startles them - causing Judy to fall to her death. It's a very abrupt and out of nowhere.

The character of the nun, I think could represent either one of two things. Marisol, as we know, used to be a nun (i'm still not over this btw). That's a pretty straight-forward, clear cut comparison. The nun causes Judy to die, Marisol causes 'Shannon', and the idea of Shannon, to 'die'. This interpretation leans more heavily on Marisol and Eddie staying together, however, so I'm not sure.

The nun could also just represent religion as a whole, and Eddie's Catholic guilt particularly. Eddie tells Bobby that he only really married Shannon because he felt like he had to, he felt pressured into it because of his religious guilt. Despite this, "There was still a part of me that loved being married to her."

There's no doubt in my mind that Eddie loved Shannon. He did, they loved each other, and he still does love her - he always will. I do think that the choice of focussing on his marriage to her and how he "loved being married to her" is interesting though, he doesn't try to clarify that he was in love with her. This could just be because it's a given orrr

Whatever, not really the point.

The point is, the fact he's now "awakened" his Catholic guilt by finding out Marisol was a nun, must mean something for his upcoming arc. In Vertigo, the nun kills Judy. Here, his religious guilt 'kills' the idea of Shannon??

I'll definitely have more ideas about this later but this was my word vomit for now! Let me know what you think please.

(Also something I find funny is that the actress of Madeline/Judy is called Kim!)

[rafeshoeeee]

Best friends brother

I had been best friends with Sarah Cameron for as long as i could remember. Our families go way back and had known each other for years.

Sarah is the kook princess, everyone knows her and everyone loves her. She's dating Topper Thornton, her brother's best friend. They're constantly arguing with each other and it's so tiring. Topper is very short tempered and gets annoyed by Sarah's friendliness towards everybody. I have to tolerate Topper as he's around most of the time, but i have my reasons why he's not my favorite.

Sarah's older brother Rafe is just so dreamy. Due to me being very close with Sarah he has to put up with me constantly being around, but deep down i know he doesn't mind that one bit.

I've known Rafe since he was a stroppy 9 year old boy. I've watched his mannerisms change over the years as he developed into the person he is.

We never really took any notice of each other when we were younger, but once we both matured, we couldn't keep our hands off of each other.

We had gotten much closer over the past two years and everyone had noticed. We spoke more at parties, laughed together, got drunk together and behind closed doors we did things we know we shouldn't.

But we just couldn't help it.

I wanted him because i knew i couldn't have him.

i remember when i first developed a little crush for him a couple of years ago, and i would get upset every time he brought a new girl home. Which was usually once a week, sometimes more. But overtime this bad habit had worn off once we started getting closer.

We are actually dating now but it's a massive secret. No one can know, and that's what makes it exciting. Sneaking around together gives both of us a buzz that's indescribable.

I used to tell myself that i would never do anything to ruin mine and Sarah's friendship, yet here i was laying in her brothers bed with nothing but his t-shirt and my pink panties on. My body pressed up against Rafe's bare chest, my finger nail tracing shapes on his right bicep. His arms lazily draped around my waist and had been for most of the night.

It was early morning in the Outer Banks and i had been awake for a little while, just watching Rafe peacefully sleep, looking so calm and relaxed. I listened to his slow heart beat gently bump in his chest, calming me also.

I watched him as he blinked his eyes open, adjusting to the light that beamed through the curtains. I placed a couple of gentle kisses along his jawline to let him know i was awake before nuzzling my head back into his chest.

His hand gently stroked my hair and i felt his lips kiss the top of my head, making me smile to myself. I loved mornings like this, Rafe being all soft compared to his usual tough boy act. No one ever saw this loving side to him and that's why everyone thinks he's a hot headed maniac. Most people only see his bad moments as he doesn't let his guard down very easily, but i was so grateful he chose me to be like this with.

"morning baby" i whispered to him, propping myself up onto my elbows so i could look at his face.

He squinted at me, his eyes still not adjusted to the light. He slowly removed his arm from around my waist and rubbed his eyes with his hand. I lightly laughed at his action, knowing that he wasn't a morning person but he was trying his best.

"morning beautiful" he replied, his voice slightly cracking due to him not being fully awake yet.

I just looked at him with loving eyes, wondering how i got so lucky. My heart fluttered in my chest at his compliment and how sexy he sounded with his morning voice.

I cupped his right cheek gently and connected our lips, the kisses were gentle and passionate, full of warmth and love.

I could feel Rafe's hands traveling down my body and they stopped at my bum, squeezing the flesh, causing me to giggle into his mouth and our lips separating.

"Rafeee" i squealed from his unexpected gesture.

Before i could say anything else, Rafe grabbed my chin and reconnected our lips, the kisses still so gentle and soft.

As much as i wanted to stay in bed all morning with Rafe, cuddling with him and absorbing all his body heat. I couldn't risk getting caught in here and he knew that. A lot of the time we spend together has to get cut short and it's so annoying because all we want to do is be together every minute of every day. But we just can't.

I struggled to pull away from Rafe as he knew what time it was. He knew i had to leave and scurry off to the guest bedroom and act like i didn't spend all night and all morning laying in his bed.

He groaned out of frustration and peppered kisses all over my face. I giggled at his clinginess, "baby i have to go" i told him firmly but softly, looking at him with an apologetic expression.

I hated leaving him in the mornings when he's all cute and precious. He grabbed my body and pulled me into him, not wanting to let me go, "just five more minutes" he groaned out, wrapping his big arms around my small frame. He made me feel so comfortable and safe but now really wasn't the time, any minute now Sarah would wake up and come searching for me.

I untangled myself from his arms and quickly jumped out of bed. The slightly cold air pricked my skin, goosebumps appearing on my arms. I searched the room for my pjs, needing to change into them. I know Sarah would think me wondering around in her brother's top is strange and i don't want to cause any suspicion.

"look away" i told Rafe, about to pull his top over my head.

He jokingly scoffed, "your kidding right? I've seen you naked plenty of times"

He's right, but i knew i wouldn't be able to resist his lustful stare as i stripped in the middle of his bedroom. However, i didn't have to time to argue with him over such a silly thing, so i just pulled his top over my head, leaving me in just my pink panties.

My hand instantly shot over my bare breasts as i hurried to pull my own floral pajama top over my head.

"don't cover yourself up sweetheart, let me see you" Rafe demanded, i could tell he had a huge smirk on his lips, despite me not looking his way.

His seductive voice turned me on so much, i loved the way he made me feel. He made me feel like the only girl in the world and he treated me like a goddess.

I dropped my arm from breasts and let them free, perfectly on display for Rafe to eye. I looked over at him and saw him lick his lips.

"such pretty tits" he blurted out, running a hand over his buzzed hair, clearly overstimulated.

I smirked to myself as i pulled my top over my head. I loved how much control i had over him. The way he just drowned me in compliments all of the time made me feel so confident.

i teasingly bent down to grab my pajama shorts, my ass in perfect view for Rafe to see. I heard him grunt from behind me and i quickly stepped into my shorts before turning to face him.

"everything okay baby?" i asked him with a devious smirk on my lips.

He chuckled to himself, "you're such a little tease" he laughed softly and readjusted himself under the covers.

I quickly leant over him to give him a quick peck on the lips before exiting his room. I felt his hand slap my ass and i looked at back at him with wide eyes.

"i love you" i told him before opening his bedroom door to leave.

He smiled at my words and responded, "i love you more baby"

I gently shut Rafe's bedroom door behind me and i quickly scurried to the guest bedroom three doors down. I opened the door, the bed was freshly made and the windows were ajar, a little breeze blowing the curtains. I rolled onto the bed and buried myself underneath the covers, making it look like i had spent the night here.

I missed Rafe already. I missed hearing him breathe in my ear, i missed the feeling of his lips on mine and peppering my skin and i missed the way he looked at me. I couldn't put into words the amount of love i feel for him, and i fall in love with him more and more every single day. I couldn't imagine my life without him.

I adored him so much and never understood how anyone can be mean to him. I understood that he doesn't appear to be the friendliest person on the planet but i believe that you have to give everyone a chance. i took my chance with Rafe and it was one hundred percent worth it.

I opened my phone and typed a message to Rafe,

Me: I miss you baby x

He responded almost immediately, a mirror picture of him with a towel wrapped around his waist. His v line peeking over the top and little water droplets running down his abs. There was text at the bottom stating, i miss you too baby girl

My core was aching for him, he knew i loved him like this.

I quickly went into the guest bathroom that was attached to the bedroom and pulled my tiny pajama shorts down. I snapped a picture of my ass, it was slightly covered by my tiny pink thong, but it was perfect. He knew exactly how to turn me on, and i knew exactly how to turn him on.

Rafe started typing and his message read,

Rafe: fuck baby, i need you

That was it. As soon as i received that message, i quickly pulled my shorts on. i exited the guest room and headed straight for Rafe's. My hand reached the door knob but before i could turn it and enter the room I heard my name.

"y/n? what are you doing?" Sarah asked, confusion written all over her face.

My face dropped.

Shit.

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Two

This AU got a lot more attention than I expected actually hfjdks I'm so glad everyone likes it!

Anyway, here's part two! We get some concert, some peeks at how Robin helps Steve navigate social situations, and a little Eddie having an itsy-bitsy crisis over Steve's fashion choices.

Have fun! And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't (especially for this one since I wrote most of it on my phone actually lmao)

----

Steve stares at the shirts laid out on his bed, arms crossed over his chest. Choosing jeans had been easy, but choosing a shirt is giving him trouble. What do you wear to a metal show at the local dive bar for a small-town band in which the lead singer is a long-time and way-out-of-your-league crush that you've been holding a candle for since the first time you saw him laugh on top of a cafeteria table?

You definitely don't show up in a plain black shirt, that's for sure.

The lights in the hall outside Steve's room flicker, switching off and on three times. Steve just barely notices, which means he doesn't get his pants scared off when Robin appears in the doorway, grinning at him while pocketing the key to the front door he'd given her months ago into a messenger bag. "Hey, dingus," she says, striding into the room and flopping onto the bed.

Steve rolls his eyes, yanking the shirts out from under her and laying them once more over Robin's stomach and legs. "What shirt should I wear?" he asks.

It takes a few seconds for Steve to look from the shirts to Robin, and she patiently waits until he's staring at her to say, "Just pick one. Nobody's gonna care what you're wearing."

"I care," Steve says, frowning as he looks back at the shirts. For the aforementioned crush reason, Steve cares very much about the shirt he wears. "What says 'Hi, we've never talked before but your music is the only thing I can hear and I think your hair is in desperate need of quality shampoo and also I've been halfway in love with you since, like, sophomore year'?"

Robin considers the question for a long moment before picking up a red sweater. "This one says 'I'm horny'," she offers.

Steve blinks, staring at the sweater for a few beats before laughing. "But I'm not," he says.

Despite looking at Robin, she happens to angle her head toward the sweater, and her response is lost on Steve. He frowns, waits until her jaw has stopped moving, and says, "I didn't get that."

After Robin first learned about Steve's deafness, he'd been overly anxious about asking her to repeat things. Somehow, it was worse to constantly ask when the person knew he couldn't hear well, if at all. But Robin had never shown annoyance; she'd just adjust her posture, make sure Steve could see her lips, and repeat her words. She does all of this now, and Steve gets to read her joking response, "Yeah, but you will be."

And, yeah, she has him there. Steve huffs and collapses onto the bed beside her, sacrificing the shirts. "I'll need a jacket," he says, turning his head to look at Robin so he can read her response.

Instead of words, though, he sees her face light up, and she jumps off the bed. Steve sits up, watching as she digs in her messenger bag before pulling out a t-shirt. "Remember when I stayed over a few weeks ago? And you let me borrow a shirt? You should wear it!"

Thankfully, Robin waits until she's done talking to throw the shirt in Steve's face. Honestly, he only understood a few words ("remember," "borrow," and "wear") but he's gathered enough context clues to get the gist of things.

He spreads the shirt out, humming at the Iron Maiden design. It's not one he wears often; for the most part, it's a shirt he wears on lazy days at home because of how soft it is. But as he's studying the design, Steve is suddenly hit with a stroke of pure genius.

He quickly changes into the shirt and then grabs a varsity jacket (not his letterman, but one he'd seen at the mall and bought on a whim because it used a nice shade of yellow) off his desk, tugging it on over the shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. After a few more seconds of digging around, he finds sneakers under the bed and tugs them on.

"Okay," he says, turning so Robin can see the outfit from every angle. He comes to a stop when he's facing her once more, hands buried in his jacket pockets, and asks, "What do you think? How's it look?"

"I think you'll give Eddie a crisis," Robin replies, wrinkling her nose at the varsity jacket. "Not, like, a bad one. But he'll probably ask where you got the shirt from."

Steve grins, thinking that sounds about perfect, and turns to study himself in the mirror. It's a surprisingly solid blend of metal and jock, and it makes him feel oddly confident, the same way he felt the first time he did his hair just right and everyone complimented it.

"Perfect," he decides. "Let's go."

----

The ride to the Hideout isn't exactly quiet, but it's not like Steve can talk and drive at the same time. So it's filled with music blasted as high as it can go on his car stereo, causing the whole vehicle to vibrate with each beat. When he finally turns the car off after parking, Robin grimaces as she rubs her ears.

She waits for Steve to be in front of her before saying, "We're putting the windows down next time."

"Oh. Sorry," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck a little awkwardly as Robin dismissively waves off his apology.

"No, it's fine, I'm just saying. Now, let's get inside before they start."

With that, she loops her arm through Steve's and drags him into the Hideout. They're hit with a wave of cigarette smoke, spilled beer, and sweat as they walk through the door, the combined smells making Steve dizzy. He frowns, leaning closer to Robin as she squeezes his arm. He feels her thumb tap him twice, their code for asking if the other is okay.

"I'm fine," he mumbles, nodding to a table in the corner. "Let's go sit. I just need to get used to...everything."

The lights are weird, too. Despite the place being dim, the few lights that are on are flickering, and Steve is having trouble processing all the new information his (working) senses are taking in.

Thankfully, Robin pulls him over to the table he pointed to, a small circle near a stage of dubious sturdiness. It looks like it can barely hold the instruments, much less those plus the people who will play them. There's an amp on the side of the stage near the table, which means they'll have the perfect spot to feel the music's vibrations. Steve slides into one of the chairs there and closes his eyes, resting his arms on a table that is surprisingly not sticky.

He feels Robin move the other chair next to him, slide in, and start pulling things out of her bag. When Steve opens his eyes again, there's a notebook between them and a variety of pens in all different colors spread out across the open pages. Robin has already picked up a red pen and is writing with it as Steve chooses a purple one.

When Robin is done writing, she taps the page so Steve can read, "Want something to drink?"

"I'm not sure we can trust the glasses here," he writes back.

"The fact you're calling them "glasses" tells me everything. Just sit tight."

With that, Robin drops her pen, winks at Steve, and heads over to the bar where a woman is wiping the counter. Steve watches her for a few seconds before looking around at the other people in the place. Most of them are sitting in groups, talking amongst themselves. Most of them also have mustaches or beards, making it downright impossible for Steve to read their lips.

Instead, Steve just gets a dull kind of rush in his ears, an ever-present background noise he can't escape. Soon enough, maybe because he's thinking about it too much, a high-pitched ringing starts up in his right ear, growing and growing in pitch until it's all he can focus on. Steve grimaces and looks down at the notebook, trying to keep his shoulders relaxed so he doesn't look as tense as he feels. The ringing persists, and he rubs his ear like that's going to help.

His ear is still ringing, though it has started to diminish, when a water bottle is placed in front of him. Steve jerks, forcing himself to calm down as Robin slides into her seat again with a mug of beer that's more foam than anything else. "They're about to start," she says, waiting until Steve has nodded once to show understanding before taking a sip.

Steve looks up at the stage and wonders how he missed Eddie and his friends arriving. As his friends are setting up behind him, Eddie is resting one hand on the neck of his guitar and using the other to hold the mic close to his mouth. Steve can't read his lips, but Eddie's grin is a little contagious as he says something to a guy by the bar. The guy must say something back, because Eddie bursts out laughing, his head thrown back to show off a neck Steve wants to bite.

A tap on his arm brings his attention away, and he looks at the notebook to see Robin has scrawled out a transcript:

"Eddie: Thanks for coming out tonight, everyone

Guy: Fuck off, Munson

Eddie: Love you, too, Jeremy"

Steve snorts, looking up to see Robin's equally amused smile as she continues to write on another page. When he glances at the stage, Steve sees Eddie still talking into the mic, his eyes roaming over the audience until they reach Steve and Robin. Eddie seems to grip the mic tighter, and he holds Steve's eyes for a few seconds, giving just enough time for Steve to wave awkwardly before Eddie looks away. But his smile seems a little bigger than before, and Steve is happy to let himself think he caused it.

When he looks down again, Robin has finished writing, and she nudges the notebook closer to him. Eddie must talk fast, because her writing is almost indistinguishable from chicken scratch in dirt that a cat got dragged through. Thankfully, Steve is an expert at this point.

"Eddie: Anyway, you know the drill. We'll start with some Metallica, treat you to Iron Maiden, throw in a dash of Black Sabbath, and then grace you with a Corroded Coffin original. If you don't like it, not my problem."

Steve feels the beginning of the set as he finishes reading. He sits a little straighter, planting his feet firmly on the floor and placing his palms on the table with his fingers spread. Robin is still writing next to him, most likely transcribing the bits and pieces of conversation she can hear for Steve to read later and laugh at. She doesn't try to get his attention while she does, already knowing it won't be worth it after Steve has shifted into Music Mode.

In the same way that people can tell what song is playing based simply on the first note, Steve can sometimes tell based on the strength and length of the first vibration. In the same way people know the lyrics of songs after listening to them enough times, Steve knows the vibration patterns like the back of his hand. In the same way people who hear their favorite songs played live can tell when a note is wrong or a lyric is sung too fast, Steve can tell when the drummer or bassist makes tiny mistakes that wouldn't be caught otherwise.

And Steve loves it. He loves how his entire body thrums with each vibration that travels from the amp. He loves how he can close his eyes and picture a story based on the music, one that probably doesn't match the lyrics but tends to replace them in his heart. He loves that this is something he can still share with his friends, even if most of them don't realize how different his experience with music is.

So, for all the little bumps and dips that occur in the vibrations as Corroded Coffin plays, for all the tiny slips that certainly go unnoticed by anyone else, and for all the fact that Steve doesn't get to hear Eddie's voice, he can confidently say he loves the show. He's never heard the songs played like this before, and it helps diminish the gut-deep desperation for new music.

And then Corroded Coffin starts a new song. It's one Steve doesn't recognize, one with vibrations that are completely foreign to him, and he jerks his head up to watch Eddie play his guitar in an opening solo. It thrums across the floor, climbing up his legs and spreading in waves from his palms on the table. Steve feels goosebumps chase after it, a new wave washing over him when the guitar solo ends with a particularly strong vibration that's immediately followed by the drums and bass.

Eddie throws himself into the music, moving and twisting and strutting around the stage like he's playing to Madison Square Garden. Steve can't look away, the lyrics incomprehensible but replaced by the jerk of Eddie's hips and the tilt of his head and the little half-spin he does on his heel.

It ends too quickly with one final, reverberating strum that lingers in Steve's bones, burrowing into his marrows as Eddie pushes his hair back and grins into the mic. He says something breathlessly, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, and Steve knows he's gone.

He's hopeless.

He's desperate.

He needs more Corroded Coffin, more Eddie, in whatever form he can get.

----

For the first time, Corroded Coffin gets genuine applause after playing. Usually, the patrons of the Hideout will politely clap (if they even notice the set is over) for about two seconds. Tonight, however, Eddie and his friends are graced with excited clapping, a few shouts, and one very strong whistle from a small table to the left of the stage. And it spreads because even rough biker dudes can fall to peer pressure when it's that enthusiastic.

So, yeah, genuine applause all because of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley who, Eddie thinks, is surprising company for the former King of Hawkins High. No matter how unexpected, he should still thank them and ask what they thought of the set now that it's over. He carefully sets his guitar on a stand and glances over his shoulder, catching Jeff's gaze and flashing a grin. "I'll be right back," he says before jumping off the stage and heading over to Steve and Robin's table.

As he gets closer, he notices the notebook and pens spread out, colorful writing filling the pages and Steve grinning with amusement as he reads it. Robin is watching him like she's waiting for him to understand an inside joke already so they can laugh about it together. If Eddie didn't already know Robin was like him (band camp, summer after his junior year, during an unfortunate game of Seven Minutes in Heaven where they awkwardly stood in a closet together before Robin commented on his black bandana), he'd wonder if something was going on between them.

"How'd you like the set?" Eddie asks when he reaches the table, suddenly nervous enough to tug on a lock of his hair and pull it in front of his mouth.

Robin looks up, but Steve doesn't. He's still reading the notebook, snorting at whatever is written there like he didn't hear Eddie. It's not until Robin elbows him that he raises his head, eyes widening when he sees Eddie. "Sorry, could you repeat that?" Steve asks, his gaze dropping to Eddie's mouth (Eddie definitely isn't imagining that) and faltering some.

"I asked if you liked the set," Eddie says, frowning slightly as Robin grabs a pen and scribbles something on the notebook. It's too small for him to read, but he doesn't miss how Steve glances down for less than a second before his eyes light up with realization.

"Oh!" he says, looking back at Eddie and flashing a charming grin. "It was great. You guys are so loud, and I've never f-uh, heard anything like your original song before."

Eddie catches the way Steve fumbles, faltering like he wanted to say one word but forced himself to say another. Something is tugging at the back of Eddie's mind, but he can't quite grab onto it just yet. For now, he leans forward, placing both hands on the table so he can be closer to Steve. "You listen to metal often, Harrington?" he asks.

Steve stares at his mouth for a few seconds before nodding, and Eddie feels the thrill of learning something completely unexpected. "I like Black Sabbath best, but Judas Priest and Guns N' Roses are close seconds," Steve says.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, "What do you like most about it?" He wants to know. Does Steve Harrington (King Steve, Steve "The Hair" Harrington, Steve fucking Harrington) like metal for the same reasons he does? Does he like the stories and the passion and the heavy theatricality of it all?

Steve seems to hesitate, possibly thinking about how to answer, before finally saying, "I like how it's music I can feel. When I listen to metal, it digs into my bones. Other music doesn't."

Somehow, Eddie's grin gets impossibly wider, and his cheeks are hurting from the sheer force of it. He's about to say more when Robin glances at the clock and swears under her breath. "Shit, I promised Mom I'd be home ten minutes ago," she says, grabbing the pens and recklessly throwing them into her bag.

It's the movement that seems to catch Steve's attention, and he looks down at Robin's hands before looking up at the clock. "Oh, fuck, your curfew," he says, looking at Robin like she hadn't just said the same thing two seconds ago.

"Yeah, no shit, dingus," Robin says, pausing long enough to speak while looking straight at Steve before throwing the notebook into her bag, too. She jumps to her feet and hauls Steve out of the chair, making his varsity jacket fall open to reveal an Iron Maiden shirt.

And Eddie thinks his heart just about stops. He doesn't know why, but seeing Steve in a metal band shirt under an undeniably jock jacket makes him feel....something. This is, like, sacrilege, right? How dare Steve Harrington allow Metal and Jock to meet? Doesn't he know the two styles clash? Or, well, they're supposed to clash, but Steve somehow wears them well, and Eddie thinks he's upset and annoyed by the fact.

Before Eddie can analyze that feeling, Steve says, "Sorry to run, Eddie. You played really well. Let me know when the next show is."

There's a lot to unpack there, too. Steve Harrington wants to come to another Corroded Coffin gig. Steve Harrington is sorry he has to cut the conversation short. Steve Harrington thinks his band played really well. Before Eddie can say anything in response, Robin is dragging Steve away, throwing a goodbye over her shoulder.

Eddie doesn't want Steve to go without something, though, some kind of departing word, so he shouts, "See ya later, big boy!"

Steve doesn't look back, but Robin nearly trips over the doorway. She then pauses long enough to say something to Steve, watching with sheer delight as he splutters and glances at Eddie before dragging her through the door. Eddie couldn't stop the grin if he tried, and he didn't try.

Later, when Eddie is sprawled on the floor of his room, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about Steve's stupid combination of Metal and Jock, he'll be struck by a sudden, consuming thought. What if Steve was wearing just the Iron Maiden shirt? What if he wore just the jacket?

Eddie swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, his mouth going dry as he scrambles to his feet and gets ready to take a very, very cold shower.

----

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