#also it's breaking like. only one side plays audio

[dtaegis]

also i think i'm not luck with earphones :( me and mom bought 2 for us in May, 1 with wires and one wireless for both of us. my wireless earphone never functioned and recently the other one broke

well my mom gave me her wire earphone. and it's starting to break now =_=

[melonnmiru]

being a professional volleyball player had gotten kiyoomi an onslaught of— albeit, somewhat unhinged, fans.

he'd never say he hated his fans. in fact, he appreciated their constant support for his growth as both a person and a way too attractive volleyball player. however, the way some of them would show their support was rather... unique for his standards.

the two of you were sprawled out on the couch, you mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, and him ultimately deciding to do the same. this was one of the few times he ever even went on the damn app and the first thing he's greeted with is an edit of him from his most recent game. he somehow felt inclined to open the comments but a part of him knew his scowl would only deepen if he did.

you leaned over and tried to smooth out the crease in between his brows with a hum. "you gotta give them credit, 'omi. you look really hot there."

"it's a 15 second video of me drinking water."

"still hot."

he rolled his eyes, switching his phone off and leaning on your shoulder. you went back to running through his hair with one hand, and scrolling on tiktok with the other.

while kiyoomi was mainly focused on how nice it felt to have your fingers gently carding through his hair, he was also listening along to the random audios that played each time you scrolled onto another video. eventually, a song oddly familiar to kiyoomi started up on your phone.

wait.

kiyoomi paused, turning to look up at you in a comically slow manner with a grimace painted on his face. you bit back a laugh at his sour expression, batting your eyelashes back at him. "what's wrong, my sweetheart, honeybunch, sugarplum, light of my life?"

"ignoring those disgusting pet names— is that the same edit i just saw?"

the familiar song played faintly as you offered him an innocent grin. you glanced at your phone then back at him, quickly swiping up. "edit? don't know what you're talking about."

alas, the algorithm knew you a bit too well. maybe it was coming after you with the fact yet another kiyoomi edit popped up after you swiped. the two of you stared at the screen silently, your thumb sliding over to press another button.

"...what a coincidence, huh 'om-"

"did you just favorite it?"

you didn't respond. he shifted closer to grab your phone, you leaned away. this ultimately led to you and kiyoomi wrestling for your phone. as you two were tugging at your phone, it slid to unsurprisingly, another kiyoomi edit.

"i'm gatekeeping these, get off!"

"they're literally edits of me!"

eventually, he decided to dig his fingers in your sides, causing you to break into what sounded like a mixture of a scream and manic laughter. he smiled triumphantly, using his free hand to grab your phone from your— now weak grasp and going straight to your favorites.

he scrolled through the random collection of cooking tutorials he knows you won't do, cat videos you've shown him multiple times, and of course, edits of him. from clips of him from interviews to his monstrous spikes, you had it all.

"this is— an invasion of privacy!" you whined, trying to get your phone back to no avail. kiyoomi looked through all your saved edits with an amused look. "think you might be even more obsessed than these fans." he teased, his shoulders shaking as a chuckle escaped his lips.

"god, can't someone enjoy videos of their jaw-droppingly handsome, gorgeous, hot, attractive boyfriend in peace?"

"not when you're right next to said handsome boyfriend, watching those videos on the highest possible volume."

you waved off his quip, "details, details." you propped your head on his shoulder and watched in silent amusement as he regrettably decided to open the comments on one of the edits. he's not even sure how some of these comments slipped past community guidelines, while some were rather tame, gushing about how good he looked, some were so depraved he thought he was going to get permanent frown lines just by looking at them.

"if you though that was bad, you should see what i say on twitter."

for the sake of his sanity, kiyoomi decides against checking your twitter account.

my 31 pending school reqs will not stop me from kiyoomi posting!!

[leonardcohenofficial]

vinyl + turntable basic info / general tips

while i am by no means a real audiophile or vinyl expert here are some tips that have worked for me over my almost two decades of collecting!

turntables + speakers

do not buy suitcase players. i cannot overstate this enough. do not buy suitcase players. the all-in-one players are generally cheaper, but there isn't enough support from the platter because they are smaller than 12 inch LPs. this can lead to shitty sound quality, the needle can fall out of the groove, and you can actually break your records. save up and pay a little more and get a proper turntable

there is a lot of debate about belt vs. direct drive turntables (belt drive turntables use a belt to spin the turntable while direct drive turntables have the motor directly under the platter) and which is better. very generally speaking if you want better sound quality, belt drive is the way to go; if you want a player that's a little easier to use that's also a little more durable, direct drive is a better option (most DJ turntables are also direct drive, as a side note)

i currently have three turntables and they are all audio-technica, which is a well respected brand (especially for beginners)—i have an AT-LP60X ($149) which is a belt driven player, as well as two AT-LP120XUSB ($349 each) which i use for practicing DJing/selecting. i also have a stanton M.203 mixer (insane to me that it's listed for $350 on amazon, i paid eighty bucks for mine on ebay), audio-technica ATH-M20x headphones (they were a gift but are listed for $49 on amazon) and a set of edifier R1280DB bluetooth speakers ($149). the speakers are hooked up directly into my mixer, but because both the speakers and the AT-LP60X are bluetooth, i can also play records on that turntable too

change your needle! general rule of thumb is to replace your needle every thousand hours of listening; for the average person if you change it once a year you should be good, i'm on the cautious side and change them every six months

i really like my setup; it's on the cheaper side when it comes to "grownup" gear but true audiophiles would probably scoff at my basics. regardless of what you end up getting, a decent turntable that doesn't have the speakers built in that fits within your budget and a good set of speaker or headphones is all you need

buying records

any time that you can, i recommend buying vinyl directly from the artist! whether it's through bandcamp their website or at a show i think it's better to buy direct when you can (and often times it's cheaper than buying through a third party)

when you can, buy local. not only is it good to support independently owned shops, developing a relationship with local music people is great and if they're good they'll start to know you/your tastes. it also allows you to get good at crate digging, because you never know what you're going to find in a dollar section

utilize listening stations if the store has them! people can be pretty fast and loose with grading used records, so it's better to listen to it and see if the audio quality corresponds with the price (i don't always buy mint/nearly mint records and can tolerate a fair amount of noise but not if i'm being ripped off lmfao)

look things up on discogs to see if you're getting ripped off. not only is discogs great for keeping track of your collection (also you can friend me here!), the online marketplace is great for checking average sale prices for a given release. also handy for seeing how rare a release is!

buying records on discogs can be a crapshoot, ebay even more so. read seller's reviews; if there's feedback that they generally grade conservatively, that's a good thing

i have such a large collection that maintaining a record of what i have is really necessary; discogs is really fantastic for this. you can even scan barcodes on specific releases to find them through the discogs app! it's super handy for me as sometimes i forget that i have certain albums already and end up buying multiple copies and having to get rid of them (i need to get better at cataloguing immediately after i get new stuff, i currently have about forty five records i still need to add lmfao)

storing + maintaining records

keep your records clean! get a good cleaning kit and have microfiber cloths on hand to keep your vinyl as dust free as possible. also use those storage sleeves, it makes a different in keeping your records cleaner longer

a general rule of vinyl storage that i learned from the owner of the shop that i've been going to since i was nine years old is to store them in less than 70 degrees F environments with less than 70% humidity (funnily enough this is apparently the same rule for cigars)

i recommend those ikea square storage bookcases, as they're generally study, aren't too expensive, are pretty easy to put together, and hold a lot of records (do not store your records in milk crates long term)

actually listen to your records! there are very few releases i keep sealed for the sake of keeping them in mint condition. vinyl can be a very expensive habit (800+ records later i am living proof lol) but it's no fun to keep them sitting around. have fun collecting and play your music!

[imfineitsfineeverythingsfine]

Communication and a Question for the Fandom

I started this off thinking I would end up with one conclusion and I actually found myself changing it by the end. I’ve read a lot frustration with the ineffable husbands and their lack of communication. “You don’t ever talk to each other" and "You never say what you’re really thinking.”

Now, that may be true. But also, throughout both seasons, we have seen repeatedly how they have been under surveillance too. 

Not just visual

But audio as well… Sign in Hell: Be Careful What You Say. But there’s more to the sign itself. I just can’t make it out. It’s not a sign that’s featured in the extras either, which is also interesting. 

What I could find though, in the The Devil in the Details X-Ray video was a little more of the sign, but I still can’t make out what the rest of it says:

Which brings in my Question for the Fandom. If anyone else is able to make out rest of this, I’d be interested. (This was around the 2:05 timestamp)

Moving on, that’s not the only *Clue* about their surveillance either. We know about Hell using electronics as a means of communication. They just cut in to whatever happens to be playing at the time, right? Radio, tv, Saturday Morning Funtime… so it would make sense that they’d use it to listen too. Is the Bookshop any safer, being an embassy for Heaven and all?

And it’s hard to pinpoint exactly how either side is listening in. We all remember this interaction but really… played as a joke but what if it wasn’t? Or maybe they just hadn’t figured out the specifics yet at that point.

Maybe there are certain “trigger words.” We see the reactions when Crowley is called “nice.” 

Crowley tells Aziraphale to “shut up” numerous times. We hear both them say “don’t say that” a lot. 

But also…

Closed captioning capitalized it just like that. Interesting. (If you haven’t watched the show with cc on, I recommend it)

What does this all mean? They just don’t talk to each other? Well, no. Not necessarily. We’ve also seen them find ways around directly speaking too.

Writing it down. (Which was promptly burned)

Aziraphale mouthing “Trust Me” during the bullet catch. Could they have had other short hands or code words? Emergency contingency plans? I personally imagine so. Side note: could they have also been using alcohol (laudanum) as cover for plausible deniability? 

“Safe spaces”? The backroom in the Bookshop that they kept going to for private conversations. We know they had alternative rendezvous locations in the first season too – the old bandstand, the number 19 bus, and the British Museum café. 

The Final Fifteen. I don’t want to take away from the emotion of the scene and I think Season 3 (come on Prime!) give us the rest of the story. I have faith in Neil Gaiman (pun sort of intended). But I will propose that the kiss may have been not only Crowley’s plead but also a misdirect or signal or other way to communicate between the two that we have yet to understand. In the end, Aziraphale was able to get the Metatron to break and divulge that the next step of the Great Plan was the Second Coming…before even leaving Earth…which was pretty impressive in itself. Was Aziraphale then able to relay anything to Crowley before the elevator? Sendarya’s video here does a great job with that very question (and others).

Most experts agree that 70-93% of communication is nonverbal and when communicating emotions, applying the 7-38-55 rule. Meaning only 7% through spoken word, 38% tone of voice, and 55% through body language. So maybe they’re not doing so bad after all. Those are just my thoughts and we’ll just have to wait and see and hope.

[harmonictechnicality]

model!steve and voice actor!Eddie (part 3)

part 1 here | part 2 here | ao3 link here | the temp is up on this one so like... dni if under 18 pls

Eddie is a superstitious person, always has been. Avoids cracks in the sidewalk, refuses to walk under ladders. Says ‘bless you’ despite his lack of goddamn faith (well… scratch the god, keep the damn). That’s why, when Eddie wakes up at 11:11 that morning, he takes it as a sign. A good one too.

Okay yeah, it’s a little gross that he didn’t wake up until now. But he spent most of the night tossing and turning. A thirstfest visual loop of Steve Harrington jerking it to him. Or just his voice. Maybe both, but Eddie would be a conceited fuck if he were to ask for clarity on Steve’s preferred fantasies.

Look, he makes a lot of digs about his appearance because it’s harmless fun. In reality, Eddie is aware that he’s not an un-attractive person. Could he put a little more effort into his skincare routine so that it doesn’t peel off of him anytime he’s in direct sunlight? Sure. But his features are decent enough to get him matches on that dating app he used for exactly four days before deleting. 

Steve, though… Steve is something conjured up by a young adult novelist - creating the dreamiest boytoy for the angsty yet endearing protagonist. Steve is that. He’s something from a fictional world of hotness. And somehow, he exists beyond coffee-stained manuscripts and bestseller lists.

He’s real. And Eddie Munson has a fucking date with him in exactly eight hours.

Holy shit.

It takes two hours for Eddie to decide on an outfit. He facetimes his audio engineer/closest friend after the first hour, because his room is starting to look like an M. Night Shyamalan adaptation of Grey Gardens. 

“Show me the jean options again.” Chrissy’s tone is all business, staring intently on the other side of the phone screen. 

They met at an escape room right outside of the city. After setting a record-breaking time at that location, they got to chatting and quickly discovered they were both in the audio production business. 

Each of them lives the freelance lifestyle now. Highly ideal for their competitive escape room fixation.

Eddie holds up the three pairs of jeans. One pair is his favorite, well-worn and loose around his thighs, just how he likes them. The other two, are pairs that Chrissy bought for him last Christmas.

Lets just say… he only wears those when she’s offering to pay for dinner on their weekly hangouts. 

She hums for a while, twisting her mouth side to side before speaking again. “The dark blue with the gray crew neck. Final answer.”

“These?” Eddie holds the skinny jeans up to his hip bones. He tugs on the waistband to show how very little movement will be possible in these pants. “My dick cannot breathe in these, Chris. It’s like you want me to embarrass myself on this date.”

“I’m doing you a favor.” She shrugs, concealing a smirk behind her water bottle as she takes a sip. “Those pants are so snug, he’ll have no choice but to get you out of them as soon as possible.”

“Are you insinuating that I put out on the first date?

“Absolutely not.”

“Good.”

“I’m insinuating you put it in on the first date.”

“How dare you.” Eddie points at his phone screen. Sucks in his laughter because yeah. Props. That was a good one. He can’t admit that though because no part of him wants to wear these boa constrictor jeans.

“You were just telling me how you fucked him with your words last night.”

“Fair. But I also explained that I was clearly possessed by the spirit of Blanche Devereaux.” Eddie slips out of his lounge tee, pulls over the one Chrissy picked out for him instead. “I swear, that woman had quite the knack for dirty lingo.”

Chrissy rolls her eyes and gives Eddie a halfhearted salute. “And that’s my exit cue.”

“What? Why?”

“Because anytime you bring up Golden Girls, we start arguing over who would play them in the gender-swapped remake.”

Wrong. Totally false. There’s absolutely no argument to be had. Eddie knows exactly who he’d cast right off the top of his head. Joe Pesci, Michael Caine…

Chrissy must see the gears turning in Eddie’s head because she hangs up before he can launch into his well-rehearsed presentation. Which isn’t a joke, he has a PowerPoint on this particular topic (with cited sources and fancy transitions).

Eddie does one last glance in the mirror before heading out. The pants make his waist look slender, nice. His skin is being squeezed in too many areas, but that’s kind of the point. At least the shirt is loose, albeit a little short. Reveals a patch of his lower tattoos every time he lifts his shoulders.

Okay damn, Chrissy probably knew that too. Maybe she’s the one possessed by the horny spirit of Blanche Devereaux. 

Spiritual possession or not, Eddie ruffles out his bangs one last time. Heads out feeling much more confident than he did after his initial interaction with Steve Harrington.

Eddie agrees to pick Steve up at his last photoshoot of the day. It’s close to his side of town, which means he doesn’t have to fight his way through LA traffic. 

A good sign sent from his lucky wake-up time, no doubt.

He doesn’t expect the photoshoot to be at an amphitheater, but it is. A small one, probably only used for local productions. There’re cameras lining the outer rim of the stage, shuttering and flashing like headlights on a highway. Eddie can hear the director and photographers spewing directions from his car. There’s an audience of producers and crew members, seems like a big fucking deal by the looks of it.

The set is, well, breathtaking - way better than that knockoff fantasy shit from the cologne ad. It’s full of greenery. Trees swaying with the breeze and ivy carpeting the stage floor. A forest that’s almost too beautiful to be synthetic. Eddie wonders if any of the plants are real or if the props department was just that damn good at finding fake ones.

After a few minutes, he checks the time. The shoot is running long. No biggie - Eddie is enjoying the view anyways. Especially, when he finally spots Steve. The view is exceptionally priceless now.

Steve perched on top of a tree trunk, feeding some other model grapes. The dark and stupidly jealous part of Eddie hopes they choke on those grapes. 

His costume almost blends in with the backdrop, dark hues of green. Subtle shades of browns. Perfectly camouflaged by nature. There are vines wrapped around his bare arms, leaves tucked into his tousled hair. 

Honestly, he looks a lot like a wood nymph that Eddie would selfishly design for a DnD campaign. Better, actually. Eddie should take notes. Steal the designer's sketches when nobody's looking.

He’s positively itching to get out of his car, get a closer look at Steve in all his botanical glory. But that might come across as too impatient. Or worse, too presumptuous. So Eddie picks one of his lengthier playlists and settles into his seat.

There’s a tap on Eddie’s window, startling him out of his nap. He must’ve dozed off about twenty minutes ago because the last song he remembers listening to was from the mid-90s section of the playlist. Now, they’ve moved into early 2000s territory.

Seriously, math is way easier when music is leading the equation.

Steve is right there, peering in, still tapping incessantly. His eyes are wide, concerned maybe. Which, yeah. Concern makes sense, considering his date is yawning before the date has even started. Fucking yikes.

Eddie rolls down the window, gives Steve a toothy grin as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. “Heya, FernGully.”

Steve doesn’t acknowledge Eddie’s costuming reference. Probably missed out on that era of cult classic cartoons. “Up late?” He leans against the car and smiles, far more dazzling than the sun setting behind him.

“You would know.”

Oh, and that earns Eddie a wink from Steve. The nun-converting wink he saw months ago and still thinks about.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve reaches into the empty space, pushes the latch down to unlock the front door. “Come on.”

“Uh-”

“I’ve gotta change before we head out.” Steve swings the door open before Eddie can protest.  “Unless you want to have dinner with me dressed like this.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

If there were a Renaissance Festival in town or a Medieval Dinner Show still in business, Eddie would definitely trick his way into getting Steve to go dressed like that. But he tucks the idea away for now, walks down the hill with Steve to the amphitheater. Does his best impression of a civilized human.

“So… what are you supposed to be exactly?”

Steve points to the body glitter on his cheeks. “A fairy.”

Yup. A new file of woodland fantasies starring Steve Fairyington have downloaded into Eddie’s mind. If voice acting didn’t pay so well, he could make an impressive career out of his whimsical porn concepts.

So he deflects. Humor is the only solution to keep the conversation PG-rated. “Just because you’re into guys doesn’t mean you’ve gotta use outdated terms like that.”

“You know what I mean.” Steve knocks an elbow into Eddie’s arm. “I’m a literal fairy.”

“Are you implying that literal fairies exist?” Eddie teases.

“No.”

“Seems like it.”

“Jesus, you’re a piece of work.”

“I can tone it down.”

Steve stops walking, places a hand in the center of Eddie’s chest to stop him too. His playful energy fucking warps into something new. Savory and seductive. Bewitching.

“Don’t even think about it.” He answers, slipping his hand down a little, almost between Eddie’s ribs. The motion sends static through Eddie’s core, up his spine. Raises the hairs on his arm and the back of his neck.

It shouldn’t be alarming that Steve’s touch is powerful. Look at him. 

Eddie has a hard time focusing on the conversation after that. Luckily, the timing works out for him to get his shit together, as Steve heads into the trailer that's parked next to the stage.

He tells Eddie he can take a closer look at the set that he suddenly can’t seem to shut up about. It really is stunning. The size, the details, the color choices. Eddie is fairly certain this is the closest he’ll ever be to experiencing Endor in real life.

Most of the crew members are gone, a few still packing up equipment while Eddie observes a variety of plants used for decorating the wooden platforms. Learns that some plants are real and some are fake, which is actually genius. The mixture of the two distract from the plastic-y finish on some of the vines.

“This is for a special-edition cover of some Shakespeare script.” Steve says, joining Eddie at his side. His outfit is rather colorful. It checks out that he's one of the few people that can pull off a purposeful athleisure aesthetic (Eddie hates that he knows what that style looks like, ugh). “Hence the fairies and forests and shit.”

“Wait.” A lightbulb goes off in Eddie’s head. “Is this for A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

“That’s the one.”

Eddie does a sharp turn, starts shaking Steve by his shoulders. Absolutely bursting with excitement. “Steve literal fairy Harrington, this is ridiculously cool! Like… the history-making kind of cool!”

“If you say so.” Steve agrees calmly.

“How the hell are you not more jazzed about this?”

“You sound just like my manager.” Steve mumbles. “Truth be told, the only Shakespeare play I’ve ever read is Macbeth.”

Eddie gasps, sucks in enough air to fill an inflatable kiddie pool. “We’re on a stage, you can’t just blurt out the Scottish Play like that.”

This is not good. Horrible, even. Not a damn chance that Eddie can be mellow about this. Superstitious person, believer of traditions, blah blah blah. 

And while hiding that piece of his personality should be a simple task, he cannot blatantly ignore such a major fuckup on Steve’s part. No matter how accidental of a fuckup it might have been.

“Okay, what are you talking about?” Steve asks. Still calm. 

“It’s bad luck.” Eddie explains. “The closest thing to cursing a theatrical production.”

“Well, good thing this isn’t a theatrical production then.”

And as Steve laughs off the thoughtless joke, a loud thud is heard at the back of the stage. 

There it is. A warning of impending doom in the form of a loose stage light, hanging by a few loose wires. 

Almost everyone is gone, only two crew members remain on the sidelines. One of them gets on their walkie talkie, mumbles something about a safety hazard incident.

Pfft, not just an incident. A fucking threat from the ghost of theater, that’s what it is.

“See?” Eddie waves both arms at the light structure swinging upstage. “You’ve pissed off Thespis with your loose lips.”

“Who?”

“Oh my god, you’re so-” 

A high-pitched scream cries out from a nearby street. Both Steve and Eddie jump at the sound. It’s a long, frightening scream. Something straight out of a slasher film, which is a likely possibility, for sure. Things are filmed out on the streets of Los Angeles quite a bit.

But the fear ringing out from this particular scream sounds real. Gritty and hoarse.

Fucking terrifying. 

Once the screaming stops, no sign of returning, they share a look. It’s not an ‘I’m gonna jump your bones’ look either. It’s awkward. A fine line between guilt and ‘I told you so.’

“That was just a coincidence.” Steve waves off the scream like it’s just a daily occurrence. Nothing out of the ordinary. “Curses aren’t real.”

Eddie doesn’t want to shout ‘you’re wrong’ from his metaphorical megaphone. Not on a first date, at least. Outright dogmatic behavior shouldn’t come into play until like… the end of the third date.

All he can do is shrug, swallow back the urge to correct this beautiful person standing beside him.

He’s so rigid now, almost timid from the lingering anxiety that more freaky shit is about to happen. 

“Come here.” Steve motions his head to the side, peering softly at Eddie’s expression. His shoulders are relaxed, arms reaching out for Eddie to follow. Join him.

Which he does. Can’t help it. Fully dazed by Steve’s patience, legs moving without a chance to reconsider.

“Wanna get out of here?” Steve thumbs over Eddie’s cheek, skims his nail against the scratchy bits of stubble along Eddie’s jaw. His movements are slow, precise. Only a smidge of pity in his smile. 

Yup. That’s what this must be - Steve probably thinks Eddie is being dramatic. Must assume he can smooth over Eddie’s knotted nerves by just touching him. Tracing hypnotic patterns over his skin.

Eddie is mildly irritated that it’s working. If he can’t find the strength to look away from Steve’s sunny-tinted eyes soon, he’ll float away. Slip through the air as particles. Dust. Nothing but his slutty wishes will remain.

“Not yet.” Eddie gulps.

“No?”

He can’t in good conscience let this theater stay plagued by Steve’s words. This place is on verge of being the location for a Final Destination sequel.

So Eddie removes Steve's hand from his face, squeezes once before returning it back to Steve’s side. “Gotta reverse the fuck out this bad omen first.”

“There’s no such thing as-”

“Don’t.” He pleads. “Put my superstitious mind at ease. Can you do that for me?”

Steve at least has the decency to look away while he rolls his eyes. Pretty and considerate. “Fine. How do I break the curse?”

Eddie has spent enough time in theaters to know there’s a few variations on this process. Changes from director to director. The most common one is going outside and spinning in a circle three times, then knocking on the door till someone lets you back inside.

But that’s where the problem comes in. They’re already outside and there’s no door to knock on, while pleading for forgiveness.

Hmm…

It’s a good thing Eddie remembers a few adjustments to the protocol. It’s an even better thing that he was captain of his improv troupe for three years back in college. Thinking of solutions on the spur of the moment? Adapting for the sake of the scene? Eddie lives for that shit. Comedy fucking chameleon, that’s him.

And what’s better than all of that? His leftover luck from waking up at 11:11am.

Guess it pays off to be a superstitious person. Sometimes.

Eddie clears his throat, delivers the instructions with a southern drawl. Fucks around with it because he can. “So first, you have to walk around the theater three times.”

“Okay.”

“Backwards.” That’s definitely not part of the procedure, but oh well. Steve doesn’t have to know that.

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fuck that.”

“Sorry. I don’t make the rules, gorgeous.”

Except he does make the rules. Currently having way too much fun watching Steve squirm at the stupidity of it all. He’s quickly learning how easy it is to push Steve’s buttons. That shouldn’t be so thrilling for him but whoops. It is.

“Whatever.” Steve kicks a piece of gravel off the stage and sighs. “Then what?”

So he wants more? Eddie can do that. “You have spit on the ground to show your remorse.” 

“This is a bunch of shit.”

“I said spit, not shit.” Eddie leans into Steve’s ear, uses his studio voice, watches as Steve turns pink all over. He lowers the volume down to a whisper. “Try to keep up.”

“Asshole.” But there’s a grin plastered all over Steve’s face as he grumbles. Eddie’s chest is fizzing, total carbonated joy inside him knowing that Steve is a vicious little monster, just like him.

He shoos Steve off to complete the reversal process. Sits on the edge of the stage, legs dangling over the rim, fingers fidgeting with a thread on his jeans.

He’s so smug, watching the prettiest boy on the planet become the grumpiest goofball. Steve might look like an angel, but he has the aura of a full-bred Pomeranian left in the rain.

“I’m making a new rule!” Steve shouts from the back of the theater. 

“How ambitious of you!”

Eddie swears he can hear Steve growling in response, which fuck, that shouldn’t be such an adorably hot combo. But Eddie pictures the curve of Steve’s upper lip as he snarls and the zigzag of his arched eyebrows, and that’s exactly what it is. Hot. Adorable. Sensational.

Steve Harrington is a game of Mad Libs. Every adjective, every word that invokes head rushes and heart flutters, they’re all about him.

“As I was saying before you rudely mocked me,” Steve is in Eddie’s peripherals now, still stepping backwards. Toe to heel, hands loosely in his pants pockets. Not fair that he can make walking backwards look slick and cool. The nerve, the gall. “My new rule is that I get to ask you a question each time I get to the front.”

Eddie pulls one knee up to his chest, lets his chin rest over top of it. “Well then... ask away, o’ cursed one.”

Steve stops at the front of the stage. He doesn’t turn all the way around or start walking forward again. He turns just enough to look at Eddie. Focusing on him.

The sudden attention to Eddie’s face gets him all stuffy. He tries to hide the color that’s surely settled on his cheeks by digging one side of his face into his kneecap. It’s a dopey move. Too bashful, even for him.

“Alright.” Steve says. “How do you know so much about theater?”

An easy question with an easy answer. Relief surges through Eddie. “Most voice actors start out as stage actors. Not always, but a lot of us do. Gotta start somewhere, ya know?”

“Yeah. I know.” Steve nods, and continues with his second lap.

Once his footsteps are far away enough for Eddie to think properly, it dawns on him - they’re getting to know each other. Like authentic people would do.

Like… an actual date.

Shit, it’s been so long since someone in this artificial fucktown has wanted to know things about Eddie beyond hookups and screenames. A genuine moment was right in front of him, and he almost missed it.

That sobers him up. Eddie shoves away his need to Cause Chaos and accepts the sincerity. Gives it right back to Steve. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“How did the modeling gig start?”

“Agents found my instagram again.” Steve replies. “Liked my pictures enough to offer me some shitty jobs to build up my resume. The usual story these days.”

“Right.” 

Eddie can’t fathom being that attractive. So attractive that people seek him out. 

Different worlds is an understatement. Different realms is more like it.

“Next question.” Steve says, arriving to the front again. “Would you rather visit the beach or the mountains?”

Eddie has to think about that one for a minute. He doesn’t take many vacations, can’t afford to on a single artist’s income.

But he remembers a trip to Colorado that he took as a teenager. Vaguely recalls not appreciating any of the landscapes because he was too busy texting his new girlfriend during the whole damn trip.

“The mountains.” Eddie answers, just as Steve begins to walk again. “The Rockies and I have some… unfinished business, if you will.”

Steve chuckles. “Sounds like there’s a story behind that.”

“Definitely.”

“Maybe I’ll get to hear it sometime.”

“If you want.” Eddie says, beaming at the implication. 

Steve’s footsteps stop. “Like I said on the phone, Eddie. Hearing you talk is...” The Earth feels silent. But the tension in Eddie’s ears is audible. “Well… I'm into it, I guess.”

Eddie has to switch knees to ease the thump in his dick. “And is Steve Harrington a mountain man or a beach bum?” 

“Depends on the season.”

“Such a diplomatic answer.” Such a vague answer too, Eddie thinks. 

“Okay. Last question.” Steve arrives at the front, shorter of breath than he was the first two laps. He hesitates for a second, then takes a couple of steps towards Eddie. “All those tattoos you have… did getting them done hurt?”

“Like a bitch.” Eddie bunches up his shirt to show off the sleeve of ink he has on his left arm. Took years for it to look this intricate. This complete. He’ll never get tired of staring at it. “Why? Itching to get one or something?”

“Nah. Never got the appeal of putting yourself through hours of pain or whatever.”

“It’s all about the art. The memories. The stories.” Eddie stretches out his bent knee. Lets it drop back down, relaxing into his explanation. “All of those things stitched into designs that I get to admire every damn day for the rest of my life.”

“Art, huh?” Steve takes a few steps closer, close enough to touch.

“What can I say?” Eddie is shamelessly studying the specks in Steve’s eyes. How all the colors blend and separate the closer he gets. Can hear himself grinning as he speaks. “I’m a big fan of gazing at pretty things.”

He’s so tempted to reach out, pull Steve in. Have him straddle his waist while they taste each other for hours.

But he’s still mooning over those eyes - the ones that deserve myths and legends to be told about them for ages. Centuries. Whichever is longer.

“Um.” Steve’s voice snaps Eddie out of his spell. “So… spit?”

“Sorry what?”

“The curse.” Steve says. “I’m supposed to spit on the ground, yeah?”

“Right, yeah. Uh huh.”  Eddie rambles, still internally choking on the fact that Steve just said spit to him. In public.

Steve backs away, puts some space between them. He begins making this nasty, gravelly side with his mouth. His jaw sags slightly as he does it, the lump in his throat bobbing the whole time. 

Eddie gawks, fully unable to look away while Steve swishes the spit around. Filling one cheek, then the other. He’s getting harder with every noise, every swish.

All at once, Steve forcefully hocks the stream of spit onto the ground. It goes diagonally, lands way closer to Eddie than he was expecting. Gets some goddamn distance, which makes Eddie’s eyes roll back. He’s pretty sure he lets out a wobbly ‘fuck’ at how obscene it all looks.

Steve wanders back over, avoids stepping in the wet mess he made on the ground. He places a hand on Eddie’s knee, works his way up the rough edges of denim.

Eddie’s vision is still spotty from what he just witnessed, so he decides to talk until everything clears up. Steve is into that right? The talking bullshit?

“There’s one more step to complete this.” Eddie watches the blurry outline of Steve’s hand rubbing his thigh, slowly blinking the image into full focus.

“And what’s that?” Steve’s voice is low, eyes fixed on Eddie’s mouth.

“You gotta…” Eddie licks his lip. Places a hand over top of Steve’s. Moving where it moves. Going where it goes. Buys himself some time to get the words straightened out. “You gotta kiss the nearest sewer rat loser.”

“And if I don’t do that?” Steve leans in till their noses touch. “Then what? The curse won’t be broken?”

Eddie nods. Only able to give a thin ‘mhmm’ in reply. He wraps two fingers around Steve’s wrist, the hand that's still trailing heat along his thigh. Needs to press against the pulse there, feel it jump. Spike.

Steve is so quiet. So controlled compared to his pulse. “Can’t have that then, can we?”

His lips part, hovering over Eddie’s mouth. The kiss starts out like that. Lips treading, only meeting between breaths. Neither of them pushing for more than seconds of warm contact, brief and sweet. 

That is until Steve’s free hand starts twisting into Eddie’s shirt, tugging him along by the soft fabric. Eddie sinks forward, dives fully into the kiss. He holds his breath or maybe it just gets caught in his lungs from how good it all feels. How Steve touches him like he's captured. How Steve kisses him like he’s dessert.

Eddie can't help but smush their lips together, forcing their faces closer than faces can scientifically be. He hears the wet smack of their tongues echoing underneath the amphitheater, waking his lungs the fuck up. Lets out the weakest sigh, hopes most of the sound gets trapped between Steve’s lips. 

Oh god, his lips. They’re fuller than Eddie’s, puffier now from kissing this hard. He wants to squish them around with his fingers, push them into pout so he can suck on them. Turn them nice and red. Eddie gets his hands tangled in Steve’s hair, knots them up enough to resist the lip-squishing temptation that’s burning him up inside.

“Here.” Steve exhales, hooks one of Eddie’s legs around his waist. 

That… okay, fuck. That’s so hot, so unexpectedly assertive and right. Eddie takes the hint, wraps his other leg around Steve. The heel of his scuffed boots is digging into Steve’s ass, not too hard, but enough to earn a dirty whine out of Steve. He pushes them together, clothes rubbing back and forth, scratching loudly. Muffles their mouth noises though.

“Can we…” Eddie wants to move this elsewhere, anywhere less public. He’s so fucking selfish for that. Needs to swallow every sound Steve makes, secure every expression with a lock. Nobody else should be allowed to see Steve like this besides Eddie.

He lets one hand unravel from Steve’s hair, glides down to the collar of Steve’s tank top. He yanks the material lower, presses his lips against the new area of exposed skin. Sips and sucks over that spot, claims it like he could extract a piece of Steve’s soul if he sucks hard enough.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Steve responds, whimpering into the top of Eddie’s hair. Not entirely clear if he’s saying that out of pleasure, or agreeing with Eddie that they should relocate, but whatever. It's all too good to overthink the meaning.

Eddie unhooks his legs and kisses the deep purple mark he just made. Too fucking proud how easily the color spreads into reddish tones around the edges. 

His vision goes fuzzy again as he stands upright, has to blink away all the white specks of dizzy lust. Eddie offers a hand to Steve, but there’s no damn point for that. Steve is already hopping up onto the stage, makes it look effortless. Cool as shit.

“Follow me.” Steve grabs the crook of Eddie’s forearm, pulling him into the forested scenery.

As if there were any need for Steve to request that. Eddie Munson would follow Steve into the sketchiest alleyway of Hell, if it meant they could kiss like that some more.

They duck underneath a few tree limbs, weave through the maze of green. A few leaves get into Eddie’s mouth, but he hardly notices anything besides the dent that Steve’s fingernail is leaving in his arm. It would make the sickest crescent moon tattoo, inked and perfectly shaped. 

Damnit, Eddie’s thoughts are getting more fucked the deeper they hide. Steve slams Eddie against the trunk of a large tree. He realizes with the thud on his back that it’s plywood, not tree bark. Doesn’t care one bit if his shirt tears from the nails jutting out. Cares even less if he gets splinters from the slow grinding of their hips, hitching his shirt up further with every thrust.

“These are sexy.” Steve tugs at Eddie’s empty belt loop. Didn’t need an actual belt with how suffocating they are. “But they’ve gotta go. If that’s cool.”

“Get them the hell out of here.” Eddie is subconsciously thanking Chrissy for suggesting these stupid pants. She’ll be insufferable when he tells her about the jean's success rate. But right now? Worth it.

Anything seems worth it to have Steve popping the button out, ripping the zipper down. He’s so focused on getting these pants off that his forehead wrinkles, little beads of sweat gathering on his temples. 

Eddie can’t resist any longer, not after seeing Steve equally covered in desperation. He palms the front of Steve’s pants, wants to give him some relief for this valiant jean-removing effort.

“Steve.” Eddie huffs, brushes his lips over Steve’s ear. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this.” He bites over the skin, nibbling carefully with the tip of his teeth.

It must tickle because Steve laughs while shrugging the jeans lower, boxers going with them. 

“So tell me then.” He kisses Eddie. It’s harsh, mostly panting into his mouth. Steve sinks to the floor and looks up. “Keep talking.”

This. This goddamn view. Eddie wasn’t expecting to get a view of Steve on his knees tonight. Wasn’t expecting his head to go limp, looking up at Eddie the way he eyefucked the camera on the day they first met. 

Only difference is, Steve’s not acting - not pretending to be needy.

He just is. He’s all of those coy and sinful things, exclusively for Eddie this time.

“Spit in my hand.” Steve stretches his hand up towards Eddie’s chin - gives him those big, midnight eyes that could make dormant volcanoes erupt instantly. Defy physics, end climate change. 

Eddie doesn’t use brain cells anymore, just does what he’s told. He gathers enough spit in his mouth, then watches it trickle out. Pooling in the center of Steve’s hand. It’s gross, sure. But also, it’s the hottest thing he’s ever done. 

Gross and hot. Those sensations are fucking synonymous right now.

“Tell me, Eddie.” Steve gets his fingers around Eddie’s cock, the warm wetness makes it twitch in his hold. Apparently, no part of Eddie’s anatomy can believe this is really happening, not even his dick.

“Uh-”

“You said you’ve thought about it.”

“Lots.”

“So tell me while I get you off.”

“Oh.. god, okay.” And Eddie is good at that. Talking nonstop. Revealing all of his filthy secrets when asked so politely. He did it last night, slipped into his darker persona with ease so Steve could feel good.

But that’s just it, isn’t it? Eddie would say a flurry of fuckery for Steve Harrington’s approval. Get him to come until he shakes because Eddie wants that. Wants Steve to feel like liquid gold dripping between his fingers. Wants Steve to bend and break under his words and touch.

Talking dirty to get himself off is new territory. Eddie is a perpetual giver, loves being that way most of the time. Especially for someone as spectacular as Steve.

“Go ahead, babe.” Steve urges, licks the muscle of Eddie’s inner thigh till it tightens.

Right, he can do this. Even if he is short of breath. Eddie can be as confident as he was last night while Steve strokes him. “Thought about you since the commercial production.”

It’s a start. He bites his lip and keeps going. “All I could think about was… fuck. Opening you up. Leaving my fingerprints on your hips.”

“What else?” Steve purrs, working Eddie roughly with his spit-slick fingers. Sounds just as ruined as Eddie does.

“Wanted to fuck you in my lap.” Eddie pauses to moan, chest falling hard. He gets another glimpse of Steve’s hand on him, picking up the pace. A tempo so delicious that it shuts off Eddie’s judgment skills. His mouth running wild. “Let you ride me just like that. Use me till your legs go weak.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. His grip gets a little firmer, loosening up between strokes. Makes a fucking pattern out of it, has Eddie craving it. Needs more.

“And what if I wanted to fuck you, huh?” Steve’s question hits his ears like a whip. Cracking every nerve in Eddie’s body.

“I’d let you.” And it’s true, so very true. Eddie’s mouth is still going rogue, uttering truths like he’s on trial. Ready to testify all his desires to Steve. Sign his name on the dotted fucking line. “You could wreck me any way you want, sweetheart.”

Eddie seems to have found the secret words to Steve’s wild side. He’s taking Eddie down his throat, almost too fast. So fast that drool forms at the corners of his stretched lips, mouth gurgling already.

Eddie is swearing, not even real words half the time - just moans that sound explicit enough to get bleeped out on public access television. One hand goes over his own mouth while the other keeps combing through Steve’s hair.

It’s so damp now, sticking out erratically at the sides. Eddie curls a few strands over his thumb, watches the color drain from his finger. So demented, so good.

Steve is taking his cock so damn well, so Eddie tells him. Truly, all that he’s capable of is sex-drunk praise. Letting Steve know how gorgeous he is, how bruised his throat will be from sucking this much cock, how swollen and sore his lips look at this angle.

Eddie can’t stop because every phrase makes Steve get messier. Whining and whimpering each time he pulls off. Looking up at Eddie before taking him in again. Getting louder. Loud enough that sidewalk pedestrians definitely could hear him if they linger nearby for too long.

Eddie's knees buckle as he gets close. Doesn't have the energy to straighten back out, let alone warn Steve that he’s about to come. None of that seems to matter though. Steve nods twice, still bobbing around Eddie, like he just knows. Knows Eddie is there and is fucking willing to work him through it.

“Holy fuck, Steve.” Which yeah, Eddie gets it. Uttering someone’s name while he comes in their mouth is a little tacky and cliche. But saying it is involuntary, totally out of his control. Truthfully, Eddie relinquished all control to Steve hours ago.

Steve swallows, cleans Eddie with a few swipes of his overworked tongue like it’s nothing. No problamo. Like that’s the only way to handle the aftermath of an orgasm. In the most delightful way, or whatever musical shit Mary Poppins sings about. 

He gives the laziest, dreamiest grin as Eddie collapses down to his level. Both of them heaving, kissing with aching lungs. 

“Fucking fantastic.” Eddie whispers, brushes his knuckles over Steve’s pink-stained cheeks. Hopes his rings don’t hurt too much, absently forgetting how chunky they are.

Steve leans into the small touch. “Glad to hear it.”

“You’re fantastic.” Eddie clarifies. Means it more than any superstition he’s ever heard in his life.

He’s more than ready to get his hands all over Steve, make him come until he faints. But Steve is adamant that he’s chills with waiting. Says he actually enjoys the buildup from staying horny for hours and hours. Mentions something about that being a new discovery that he wants to explore. 

With Eddie. 

Steve fucking Harrington wants to explore new sides of himself with Eddie. That sends him reeling. Smitten and spiraling.

“Are sure?” Eddie paws at Steve’s hard-on, ready to jump in and save the day via orgasm.

“Very sure.” He lifts Eddie's hand away, snickering as he lays a quick kiss on each finger.  “I like being around you. That’s not gonna change overnight.”

“Like being around you too, Steve.” He takes Steve’s face into his hands, smushes it back and forth until Steve smiles. “Crazy about it, actually.”

The sun is low, barely any light left in the sky. But as Eddie holds Steve’s face, watching him smile, he notices that Steve is glowing. Not beaming, actually glowing. Even through the dimness of sky and the shadows formed by tree limbs, Eddie can see all of Steve’s features.

How is that possible?

They each look up and see it. Taking it in, this mysterious glow.

“Wow.” They say in unison, almost matching pitch. Matching levels of disbelief too.

Between the branches and leaves, they are tiny lights. Floating, orb-like lights. The brightness shining off of them is warm, soft on the eyes. They’re scattered high over the forested backdrop, orange and yellow hues twinkling against rich greens. 

Enchanting is the only word to describe this new addition. Incredibly and unbelievably enchanting.

“Set designer really popped off with this cover shoot, I guess.” Steve throws the theory out there, barely sounds like he believes it himself.

Eddie rubs his eyes. His voice comes out hushed, doesn’t really mean for it to but it does anyways. “Steve… those aren’t attached to anything. No strings, no wires. They’re just-”

“Floating?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Be serious, dude.”

And Eddie is. Completely serious. No jokes or snarky replies in his system right now. He points to the nearest light, then back at Steve. “You broke the curse, right?”

“Apparently.” Steve shrugs.

“So maybe Thespis is showing his forgiveness.”

“Who the hell is Thespis?” Steve pinches the skin between his eyes and groans - acting like Eddie’s hypothesis is giving him a migraine. Honestly, it might be. Wouldn’t be the first time Eddie worked someone up to the point of desperately needing tylenol.

He switches tactics, nuzzles into Steve’s shoulder with his nose. Attempts to lighten the mood with at least one joke in these trying times of bad luck and headaches. “Or he’s giving us his blessing for copulating on his holy grounds.”

The lights answer, flaring out all around them. They pulsate for a minute, maybe two, before returning back to their normal glow. Eddie tucks in a grin because Steve’s gorgeous little head looks like it’s about to detonate off of his gorgeous little body. So if he smiles right now, Steve will undoubtedly explode on this very flammable set piece.

Which would be a wicked awesome way to die. Post-orgasm, then up in flames. But alas, they have dinner reservations. It would be rude not to show up.

Really, it’s no surprise to Eddie that the ghost of theater is into partial voyeurism, signaling his approval with twinkling lights. Semi-public sex probably classifies as its own unique strand of performing art in Ancient Greece.

Or the dead dude is just into taboo stuff. 

If so, good for him. You do you, Thespis.

“Look.” Steve says, standing up. “Maybe it’s… an optical illusion.”

“Or magic.”

Steve lets out a deep sigh and offers his hand to Eddie. Pulls him up in one swift motion. Doesn’t let go of his hand afterward either. “How about we drop it and go get some dinner?”

Typically, Eddie is all about a verbal bloodbath. But Steve laces their fingers together, connects them in a way that has Eddie forgetting all about his need to be right. 

“Consider it dropped.”

The lights flicker out as they walk further away from the stage. And as they get into Eddie’s car, they go out entirely. Steve flicks on the radio, defaults to the classic rock station, which is playing “Magic” by The Cars.

“It’s a sign.” Eddie sings to the tune, poking a finger at Steve.

“Just drive, you big dork.” Steve swats him away, placing a hand on Eddie’s thigh while he drives. He turns up the volume, surprisingly knows every lyric by heart. Belts them out. Full on screams the parts he likes best.

Which Eddie totally can relate to. He wants to scream about all the parts he likes best about Steve. About their date that’s not even finished yet.

On their way to dinner, Eddie avoids the cracks on the sidewalk. On the drive home, he taps the roof of his car whenever he makes it through a yellow light at an intersection.

And when he drops Steve off at his apartment precisely at 11:11pm, he doesn’t say a damn word. Keeps his mouth shut, only opens it to kiss Steve goodbye (with tongue, obviously).

Sure, it’s just a dumb superstition, Eddie can admit that to himself.

But tonight… it feels like more than that.

More than a coincidence.

More than a good omen.

He sends a ‘got home safely’ text to Steve as he pulls into his designated parking spot. Totally obsessed with how fast Steve texts him back, it’s too fucking cute.

Steve: glad :) had a great time btw

Eddie: really?

Steve: yes *really*

Eddie: i had a great time too

He quickly taps the voice-record button before Steve can respond:

“Actually,” Eddie sneers. Uses the voice that Steve goes crazy for. “I had a magical time.”

Steve: ugh

Eddie: ;)

[katzske]

EARTHSPARK SPOILERS ABOVE AND BELOW!

For a kids show, I'm glad that they're able to touch upon serious topics like the effect war has on individuals and, in this case, species. I think TFA is the only notable TF show that wiggled its finger and made clear yo these are fucking aliens. But even there it felt one sided, as in, robots finding organics gross.

In TFE, you get so many perspectives on the Cybertron- human relationship and I love is so much. You have people who embrace it and accept each others differences. You have those who have internalized xenophobia but don't notice. People who don't care and just wanna be themselves and live in peace. And those who outright HATE the other species.

Visuals: the first half had its animation mainly focused on action. and while there is still action here, the conclusion of the season offers a lot of cinematic shots which tbh kinda took out of the immersion but are awesome screenshot material. it gets really dark as well, and there is a shot with Bee that stood out to me, where he's hanging from a ceiling, and his expression is full of fear. It was grand.

Audio: You still have the same synth wave music (which I like) but you also get some amazing sound designs for animal based alt modes, like Grimlock and Tarantulas. Nightshade unfortunately has this repetitive sound playing whenever they fly, (hawk screech) since they don't have a motor IG??

Characters: The viewer will be introduced to Hashtag, Jawbreaker and Nightshade. They have distinct abilities and personalities. (By now, I can already tell that my favorite Terrans are Nightshade, Jawbreaker and Twitch lol). They're interesting characters and their dedicated episodes were quite entertaining.

The most notable new characters who actually have their dedicated episodes and voice lines are Shockwave and Tara. Shockwave, as you can see from my memes, is a raging classist and racist. He's pure evil. But I really enjoy him because he's so smug. Imagine TFA Shock's smugness but in higher dosage. I fucking love it. HIS VOICE HAS SO MUCH RANGE. reminds me of an evil DJ subatomic supernova. His eye also reminds me of shin godzilla's... an unrelenting blank stare, unnaturally wide. Tarantulas on the other hand takes a much different spin than his BW counterpart. I think he joined the cons and stuck with them is because he wanted equality for all (during a short convo between Megs and Shock it's implied that it was their original goal). He's sick of the war and just wants to survive. He wants to be himself. He does these typical cinema spider noises like hisses, or gargles in his alt mode BUT OH BOY in his robot mode he's one fine fella. And his voice. chef kiss. i think it's British, but can't pinpoint what region.

Plot: Earthspark is gonna build upon the concept which TFP poorly introduced: A villan human faction. TFE is building upon and further fleshing out what they tried to do with M.E.C.H. The execution so far looks very promising.

They have taken their time to introduce G.H.O.S.T for a whole season, and put a bit of effort into showing that the organization is made out of individuals who have different motivations.

Their official motivation is understandable. The "good guys" wanna protect civilians from threats, like bots who break shit. But ofc there are some nasty people in the ranks who are lowkey masochists lol

Also, since Cybertronians are known to the public, it deepens the complexity of the conflict. Xenophobia against Cybertronians ranges from this cooperation to just regular people, who are mad that their planet was turned into a battle ground.

[lunatic-pudge]

Tf2 characters reactions to skibidi toilet?

This ask scares me. I think it has to do with the fact that I never understood skibidi toilet, and that means I'm starting to disconnect from the youth. I am becoming the old man who doesn't understand memes.

BUT, since you asked, most of the mercs would be so confused by it. A toilet with a head coming out of it and singing, they're so old and don't understand how people find it entertaining.

I feel like the entire offense class would enjoy it to varying degrees. Scout loves to use it as a way to annoy everyone around him. Constantly blaring it at the worst times. He ends up getting his devices confiscated by Heavy for a while until he learns to knock it off (spoiler alert: he doesn't learn and keeps getting his devices taken). Soldier doesn't understand but thinks it's rather entertaining. His rather nonexistent brain has interpreted it as American propaganda and uses it to show off how great his country is. Bless his heart, he means well even if he isn't the brightest. Now Pyro likes it cause of the music. They aren't too fond of the weird animations and tend to only listen to the audio. They're the only one that's kind enough to have it blasting for everyone to hear.

Now, the defense class. Demo is typically too drunk to really understand nor care about ilwhat the hell is going on. His intoxicated brain barely comprehends the he's looking at (only focusing on actual important things like booze, bombs, and his wife Soldier). But he can get annoyed with it rather quick if he hears it playing on a loop. He has threatened to break Scout's phone after hearing it play for the tenth time back to back. He's very serious with his threats and will strap the phone to a bomb and explode it. Poor Demo is just trying to relax and have a good time. Heavy is just plain confused. He just views it as kids being weird and usually ignores it. He'll hide out in Medic's to avoid having to deal with it. But he's also the main person to put a "timeout" on the skibidi. Engie is also confused but is just too busy to care. You can show him it, and he'll be like, "That's nice, son." while continuing to fix his sentry. (He didn't even look at the phone, typical dad behavior). He's pretty chill when Pyro is playing it cause they know how to be respectful.

And finally, the most "I'm not dealing with this shit" class: support. The plus side these goobers have is that they all have a way to hide from the BS. Medic is the least vocal of the support, opting to instead watch the chaos of other people yelling for him. If anything, he'll just tell them how they're gonna rot their brain out with such nonsense. He refuses to let skibidi toilet be played in his lab. He doesn't want his doves to be exposed to such brainrot. Now I can see two different things happening with Sniper. 1. He yells at Scout and Solider to shut up, or 2. While not being a fan of skibidi toilet, uses it to annoy people like Spy (or maybe even to use it to get what he wants). Now remember, Sniper's the second youngest merc and an only child. He's just as goofy as someone like Scout. He just doesn't show it often. This would be one of those times where his goofiness shows. And finally, Spy, he just ain't having it. Devices will go missing in the middle of the night and will not be seen again. He is constantly yelling at Scout and Soldier (and the occasional Sniper) about how annoying and childish they are. He's surprised with how he's been able to deal with it. He feels like he's always on the edge of killing everyone cause of how fed up he is.

[purecommemasolitude]

There’ve been criticisms about Darry being too mean or too cruel in the musical, and I get where those people are coming from, but — and speaking as someone who hasn’t seen or listened to it but has listened to the soundtrack and follows the information account like the paper — I think this phenomenon stems from two things

First, on the side of the discussers, a lack of exposure to the musical as an actual piece of material instead of (occasionally very out of context) lines or screenshots. Obviously seeing the musical, even if one lived in New York, would be expensive as all get out, and even audios and boots are pretty hard to find for this show, but there are many details and contexts that change how lines on the page should be interpreted that simply cannot be gleaned through, well, lines on the page. As someone who has dabbled in acting & directing, and has spent time analyzing play texts in depth, delivery and direction can change everything. The entire sentiment of a line can be the opposite of what you’d expect if you took the line at face value, and unless that’s explicit in the stage directions, it can go unrealized if one is merely reading the script (which, as an aside, is exactly why I find analyzing play excerpts tricky — because without a performance or direction, scripts are often so ambiguous and versatile that they could go any way). And honestly, despite also being someone who unfortunately does not benefit from first hand knowledge of the musical, I feel like this is very evident in discussion of Darry in the show. For example, none of his lines in, say, Runs in the Family (Reprise) should be taken at face value, because if you’ve even listened to the song you can tell he’s completely spiralling and hitting a breaking point. This is a state that, historically, causes people to say things they’d never believe in real life. We’re not meant to believe Darry would ever walk out on his brothers, we’re meant to hear him talk about it and understand how deep of a breakdown he is having. As a less obvious example, from what people online have said, Darry spends the last twenty or so minutes of the musical in tears. Again, the things he says here aren’t necessarily the things he believes, or things that he’s expressing coolly or off-handedly because they line up 1:1 with his worldview, they’re things he says when he’s desperate and struggling and has no idea what the correct path is when his brother & responsibility has effectively been comatose since the deaths

Which brings me to my next point!

One of the most known things about the musical, even to people who aren’t very familiar with it, is that it goes more in-depth on Darry’s trials and tribulations, so to speak. He gets one solo at status quo, another (mostly) solo when he gets his breakdown, and a (mostly) duet in his own self-described darkest hour during Pony’s absence. All three of these songs go into detail about what his life is like and how much he’s been struggling, and even songs that aren’t about him emphasize this feature of his more than in the book: his description by Ponyboy in Tulsa ’67 & Great Expectations reminding the audience of his life’s path, his verse in GGAH making it clear that his life is a very different one with arguably more severe burdens compared to the other boys. Other than the three most important characters of the original narrative, he is now undoubtedly the most important and developed character — which makes sense in a musical format, because with the story of The Outsiders it would’ve been pretty much impossible to do a true ensemble cast other than the main three while doing any of them justice, especially if they’d kept Steve as a principle (rip king). But I digress. In my opinion, being clearer on Darry’s hardships actually gives the musical space to show him as saying crueller things, to have him make more mistakes and mess up worse. In the book, we’re clearly meant to sympathize with him by the end, but we only get Ponyboy’s infamously flawed and unreliable narration as the lense through which to view him. As such, if we went too hard into Darry messing up, while 3/4 of the book have Ponyboy going “yeah Darry’s a rock and doesn’t love me or anyone”, he ultimately would’ve come across a lot worse and a lot harder to “redeem” in the eyes of the reader (personally I never disliked him, but I’ve seen enough accounts of people who hated him on their first go at the story to know it is not an uncommon sentiment). He already slaps his brother and argues with him all the time; it would’ve been even more legwork to make him liked if he’d also been saying harsher things and making more mistakes. In the musical, however, we get that objective perspective that’s missing in the book. Ponyboy’s not narrating to us the lyrics of Throwing in the Towel, he’s not even present for the events of Throwing in the Towel! It’s a lot easier to understand and forgive mistakes if one is familiar with the psyche behind those mistakes, and the musical delivers that psyche to us at every turn. Because the audience understands Darry Curtis and how hard it is for him to hold on, the audience also has more understanding and forgiveness for when he’s spiralling. It’s also just a more specific proof of his plight — three songs with first-hand, emotionally explicit lyrics penetrate the uninvested understanding a lot easier than a second-party description of circumstances. Due to its nature and promotion of Darry’s importance, the musical simply gets more freedom to show an arguably more realistic version of him.

Also, I do believe that Darry in the musical is just that much closer to the edge than he is in the book, which is a valid character choice in an inherently emotional and transformative medium such as the musical adaptation 🤷🏻‍♀️

[adrixivy]

Headcanon: Tony doesn’t ever stop thinking. Like ever.

Calling him a genius may be an understatement. He’s always thinking. Always analyzing. His eyes are always scanning and he’s always solving math equations in his head. He sees a building and he’s calculating the area of the entire building, mentally calculating the measurements of the entirety of it. The length, height, the breadth you name it. And he often can’t seem to turn it off. He’ll be curious and immediately he’ll be calculating. And this doesn’t even apply to buildings and infrastructures only. He’ll see a car dashing past and he’ll think how fast it went by the sound of the exhaust and the engine. He’s calculating where their next destination could possibly be.

How would he know the engine? Well he also has incredible memory and memorised a lot of different types of engines. Play the sound of an inline engine and he knows exactly what it is, doesn’t even need to see it. Show him multiple different shapes of engines and he can tell you exactly what are the names of it. (He remembers the practical things but he’s working on remembering details about people)

Everything he sees, he’s calculating. He sees numbers and equations that are just there. And he sees it around people. The first time he saw Steve, he was calculating his height and his weight. When he found out Peter was Spider-Man, he admired Peter’s skills. Watching Peter catch a school bus, he’s calculating the bus weight and the people inside added up and is surprised to see Peter easily catch it, especially from a ten feet height which would make the bus feel even heavier. He knows Peter is a kid too due to calculating his build and hearing his voice. He tracks where Peter is commonly seen and tracks it back to Queens and then his house. And boom, he finds out Peter’s identity.

When he was on that Shield Helicarrier, he was so observant of his surroundings. His eyes constantly darting around and looking. Hell he even saw a guy playing Galaga and called him out. He saw Steve for the first time and he can see everything about Steve’s military career. Remember when he first saw Natasha? He knew something was up with her. That she was some spy and too good to be true. That she has some dark side to her. He doesn’t trust anyone without a dark side anyway.

He’s always making acronyms out of proper words or long names. Just to make it easier and something to think about. It’s easier for everyone too. He loves acronyms and it’s evident.

Jarvis- Just A Rather Very Intelligent System.

Edith- Even Dead, I’m the Hero

Friday- Female Replacement Intelligent Digital Assistant Youth

I know I said he has a great memory but when it comes to names, he isn’t really that good because more thoughts are flowing through his mind so much he couldn’t care to remember people’s names unless he really has to or he likes them. I can imagine Pepper having to repeat her name multiple times to him the first year she worked for him. That’s probably also a reason he always has nicknames for people. Capsicle, honey bear, point break, spiderling, and many more.

He even used to play the piano because his mother did so. Imagine him just hearing a metronome in everything he hears. People drumming their fingers? He makes out a rhythm and tries matching it to some classical music that his mother used to love listening to or what he often hears her playing on the piano.

Another headcanon that I’ll detail on next time is that he probably knows quite a lot of languages. A common headcannon is that he knows Latin because in fics, he calls Peter Bambino. What if he knows more than Latin. Romani, Arab, French, Spanish, Chinese even and maybe many more. One of his mistakes in the past is that he doesn’t understand people due to the language barrier and making his A.I translate everything doesn’t always help because sometimes they’re not always there. Like when he was kidnap by the Ten Rings. So he learns languages and easily picks them up by audio because he learns better like that. He’s always thinking of things to make himself better.

Maybe part of the reason he’s always thinking is because he’s paranoid after 2012. Everytime he makes suit upgrades to his or Peter’s suit, he’s thinking of every possibility that could happen and whatever they could ever need. Heater, parachute in case something doesn’t work out and 572 variations of webs for Peter. In fact, all the upgrades apply to the entire team too. He made Steve’s shield able to return to him swiftly. He makes hand-to-hand combat items that pack a lot of punch for Nat because he knows she’s good at it. Like the batons she uses that has electricity. He makes many types of arrows with different capabilities for every need. Not only offense but defense. Even practical ones.

He always has something figured out or if he doesn’t, he’s immediately is thinking about it. He’s constantly jumping idea to idea, skill to skill. He just never stops. Inventing multiple suits, inventing such advanced AIs and even inventing time travel.

He doesn’t rest and has trouble sleeping because of this too. And what Pepper said at the end of Endgame when he took his last breath “You can rest now” hurts so much more when you’re thinking of this headcanon.

[ariscats]

Jameson analyzes part 2: Traumas (or a very long rant against Emily Laughin, who I cant be bother to learn how to spell her last name)

“Cause I've made some real big mistakes/ But you make the worst one look fine/ I should've known it was strange/ You only come out at night/ I used to think I was smart/ But you made me look so naive/ The way you sold me for parts/ As you sunk your teeth into me, oh/ Bloodsucker, famefucker/ Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire”

So there is this girl, who comes at his house every summer and has a heart diesse. She cant live so everyone has to do whatever she asks to make it up for it. Then one day she gets a surgery and now she gets to live, and who is her ticket to living? Jameson and Grayson.

Emily is his first kiss. However, 3 seconds after SHE KISSES HIS BROTHER WHO HE ALREADY INSECURE ABOUT BECAUSE OF HIS F. GRANDFATHER. And you have to be pretty dumd to not realize that what emily really wanted in the scene is Grayson to kiss her and she just used Jameson because she could (I still can’t believe that Emily did “loved” Gray more than Jameson).

Then she moves to his city and goes to his school. And, as far as a bitch she is, she must have been rl something because she became the most popular girl at school.

(Now, this is where things get tricky. I’m going to use the version fo what I believe happened. If you have another version you can picture like that)

Then they start dating. They borh want to live and do things because they can rather because they should. She got her golden ticket to freedom and he got the attention he’s been craving his whole life. They do everything together because she wants more and he wants more and nothing is never enough for them. So Jameson takes her to do everything they have the right to because Jameson is, at te end of the day, a good boyfriend.

But, its still not enough for Emily. Because she goes after fucking Grayson AND HE DOES THE SAME TING AS JAMESON BECAUSE THEY ARE THE OPOSITE SIDE OF THE SAME COIN.

Then they start fighting. Best friends for their whole life, but they slowly start to hate each other because fucking Emily turned everything INTO A GAME, MAKING LOVE A GAME THE SAME WAY TJEIR FAMILY HAS BEEN TRAUMATAZING THEM THEIR WHOLE LIFES. AND SHE KEEPS A FUCKING SCORE OF WHO HAS MORE POINTS, BY VOICE RECORDING.

Then one beautifull day Rebecca decides that betrayl by both ends doesnt hurts and tells Jameson about the scores and sends him the audio Emily made.

Jameson Hawthorne had to listen the girl he ruined his life for for over a year sumarize him and his love as some points. He breaks up with her, and she decides to go after Grayson. And then she jumps. But he is also there, because love and family are never that simple and jameson is a tiny bit (read in the level of therapy) of a masochist. And then SHE BLINKS AND LAUGHS AT HIM AND WHEN HE FINALLY MANAGES TO GO AWAY SHE START HAVING HEART PROBLEMS. BUT SHE HAS PLAYED HIM SO MUCH THAT HE DOESNT KNOW WHAT REALITY IS ANYMORE, and she hadnt had any heart problems for the past 4 years. So he leaves and she dies, and hell breakes lose.

He lost a girl he has know his whole life. He just “learned” that his love arent worth more than some points, he just got out of a increadibly toxic relasionship that ruined his life. The healthy thing would have been if he had some safe space to talk about what Emily did to him and have a strong support system. But everyone he knows is muroning her. They see her as an angle, so everything she did to him goes under the traps because how do you even dare to say something about dear angle Emily. And he has to live with the fact that he belives he killed her. And he cant also talk about anyone about that, for obvious reasons (but his grandfather knows and uses that against him).

Remember what I said about him being a masochist? Now is the era of his great self destruction (with an almost suicide attempt there, that his grandfather was present again and used that agaisnt him, *again*). Its all buttom up in him and he feels angry and sad and nothing. And between these 3, he chose anger. Also, Thea blames the Hawthorne for a death they didnt cause because who dares to say something bad about angles emily? So she puts the whole school agaisnt him and makes school unberable to him. Everyone likes to joke about Jameson missing school but has anyone ever wondered why he hated there so much? He didnt skiped class because he was a rebel 😝🤘but because everyone f. hated him and made his life hell.

[crimsonhydrangeavn]

Hi! I absolutely loved the demo of your game—it was amazing! I'm excited to see more of it. I have two questions: First, how would Garret or Teagan react if they were in a room full of yanderes with y/n? Second, I hope this doesn't come across the wrong way, but I'm genuinely curious—how long does it usually take to release a new episode? I'm really looking forward to continuing the game, and I appreciate all the hard work you put into it. I hope I'm not rushing anyone, and I'm truly sorry if it comes off that way. Thank you so much for reading!

Thank you so much for your ask! I'll go ahead and answer your second question first before moving onto the first one! lol

I wanted to start off by thanking you for asking your question in a kind and respectful way, I completely understand where you're coming from and I don't take any offense to it what so ever!

I know I really appreciate transparency when it comes to games/ things I'm a fan of, so I want to do what I can to make sure I'm as honest and upfront with you all as possible.

So I went through my logs and did the math. Day 1 took me about 6 months from start to finish and Day 2 took me almost a full year from start to finish. That being said, Day 1 was 11k words and Day 2 was 24.5k words total. So given the fact that Day 2 was more than twice as long as Day 1, I can see why it took double the time as Day 1. (That and I learned how to add animation into Renpy and spent a little over a month going down that rabbit hole and making a few animations for the game. I also spent some time refining Day 1 while working on Day 2 so that probably made the Day 2 release take longer than it would have otherwise)

The reason why it takes as long as it does is because I'm making this game entirely by myself. That includes the script, all of the art assets, the programming, the audio, and not to mention all of the social media, and patreon content.

On top of that I also have a pretty steady stream of freelance work that usually equals to about 30-50 hours a week. I've burnt myself out in the past and I'm trying to keep a sustainable pace where I'm making progress on CHVN but I'm also enjoying life and taking breaks as needed.

That being said, I do post monthly game updates on my patreon to discuss what I've finished that month, what I have left, and what the current word count is. ( ATM it's longer than Day 1 and I still have a lot planned haha)

I also think it's worth mentioning that this is my first game and I'm learning how to do everything from scratch. My background is in the visual arts so programming and audio stuff is completely foreign to me. That being said, I'm stubborn as hell and for better or for worse once I put my mind to something, I'll get it done one way or another.

Hopefully that answers your question! Once I finish up the script portion of Day 3, I can give a better estimate of how long it'll take me, but until then I really have no idea when the actual release date will be.

Now, onto the easier/ fun part of your question! lol

Garret would play nice at first, however he would make sure that he was never more than a step away from your side. He doesn't trust anyone to behave themselves around you, especially if they're anything like him.

Teagan on the other hand would immediately try to get you to leave the room. They don't deal well with competition and would want to remove you from the situation asap. If you refused/ couldn't leave with them, then they would make sure to talk shit about all of the other Yandere's and taint your view of them. While it would put an obvious target on their own back, at least they'd know you wouldn't talk to or go off with them out of your own free will.

Thank you again for all of your support! I really appreciate it and I can only hope that the next update is worth the wait!

[scarletcomalies]

bigger than the whole sky

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word count: 5,438

Warnings: Angst, unspecified legal age gap. This is pretty much about Natasha being mourned over and remembered as she deserves. What better day to post than on her birthday?

On December 3rd, you recalled all the wonderful memories you had created with your partner.

June 18th, 2019

Half of humanity was gone.

Each day, you woke up to a world where the sun shone as brightly as ever, permitting the shadow of loss to darken every corner of the souls of the survivors of the Thanos blip. The familiar warmth faded, replaced by only a deep melancholy at the memory of what everyday life used to be. In the blink of an eye, your loved ones vanished, leaving you with the agony of their absence.

You were lost and desolate. You longed deeply to experience just a glimpse of everything you once took for granted, like calling your mother after a long day, hearing the murmurs of people at the coffee shop, or receiving a funny video from your best friend. Just something...

But nothing.

Word of mouth, you heard about a support group that Steve Rogers was leading. The world had become so vast, that breathing the same air as Captain America, with the Black Widow at your side, was no longer an unthinkable madness that would happen only in the most delusional mind. It was a reality.

There you were, realizing that you also had something in common with heroes of international stature. When they weren't all over the news, fighting right-handed in their intimidating suits, they were simply human beings who also wanted to be heard from time to time. They too had a right to break down.

"I..." you looked up, once it was your turn to speak. All eyes were looking at you expectantly, and Natasha Romanoff's eyes on you made your task more difficult. "Well, the barista at the coffee shop I go to informed me about this, uhm.... I'm (Y/N)."

"Hi, (Y/N)," those present responded in unison. The raspy voice of the woman next to you somehow resonated more in your ears than any other. What a woman. Not for nothing had you become interested in the news, only to see her fight so bravely. You always considered her a beautiful woman, and above all, a powerful one.

The only three friends you had always teased you about your crush on the Black Widow. And this alone made you feel worse. They would have loved to see you all flushed and nervous like you were at that moment.

"I remember hating crowds. People rushing around at all hours, often pushing and shoving," you began, looking down at the ground as you fiddled with your hands. "I hated the voices. Sometimes it was so loud that, between them all, they sounded like a swarm of angry bees," some had the strength to only half-smile at your silly analogy, others were unfazed.

Natasha's resilience turned out to be greater than you imagined, she demonstrated it on multiple occasions, but you experienced it live and in full color when she specifically let out a distinguished laugh. It echoed throughout the room, you could hear it loud and clear.

"I know, it was annoying." you said softly, directing your first words specifically towards the redhead, who by the way had a bit of blonde on the ends of her hair, indicating that the dye was fading. It looked beautiful on her. "Anyway," you redirected your attention to the others again. "I know a lot of people here hated that noise. We'd put on headphones so we didn't have to listen to anyone," you continued, and earned a nod of agreement from everyone present. "Well, now, I put my headphones on and play audio of people talking. I never thought I'd miss this, or that I'd miss being constantly pushed around, the voice of an annoying customer I have to deal with at work. Besides, everything is slowing down, nobody lives in a hurry anymore, and... well, I think you understand," you let out a nervous chuckle. You had no intention of rambling on too much about it, or you were never going to stop.

"Thanks for sharing," Steve said, giving you a small smile, that smile where he pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows.

Once the meeting was over, you let out a small sigh, grabbed your stuff and headed for the exit.

A voice stopped you as you stood on the other side of the door, causing you to turn and meet again those green eyes that looked so much more beautiful in person. Neither magazine pictures nor news cameras could capture that wonderful pair.

"I just wanted to ask you, if it's not too invasive," she spoke, as soon as you turned around. "Do you have anyone to talk to? Outside of this group, I mean."

"Anyone close? No," you answered honestly. It was the truth. Being highly selective had its consequences, as you were unlucky enough to lose your very few close loved ones; your three best friends, your mother, your aunt and your grandfather. Some family members, previous friends and even exes with whom you cut ties tried to reconnect, but the phrase 'better alone than in bad company' never applied better than in this case. "But if you're talking in general terms, even the person in line at the supermarket can be your confidant and support. You can imagine what it's like."

"I know," she agreed, and thought for a moment before adding, "In supermarkets, products expire before anyone buys them, but it's a good thing, it's an excuse to buy more snacks so they don't go to waste."

You let out a laugh. A full, genuine laugh, and wow... it was the first time in the last year that someone had made you laugh like that. It was a silly joke, yes, but in the midst of so much monotony, the spontaneity was a gift she gave you.

December 3rd, 2023

"You were in fact the only person who made me laugh," you barely managed to formulate the last words before you burst into tears for the fifth time.

Natasha would be turning 39. You both knew that aging was anything but a bad thing, yet she enjoyed ironically saying that she was getting old, even if it was far from the truth. She had no childhood, no adolescence. The concept of old age seemed the most comforting to her.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, and to swallow your tears. You were talking to a piece of marble with her name carved on it, and you knew that meters underneath there wasn't even a body to mourn over, but you had to let it all out one way or another.

"Happy 39th birthday, my love," you whispered, smiling faintly. "I guess your wish came true. You stayed 38 forever."

December 3rd, 2020

"Oh, my wish is to stay 36 forever!" Natasha exclaimed, with a broad smile, and then blew out the candles on the mini cake you had bought her.

You laughed along with her.

Laughing seemed impossible until she showed up a year and a half ago in your life at that support group. Now laughing seemed as easy as breathing.

You wondered if, somehow, you would have met Natasha. She was a very famous woman, unattainable to everyone including you. The possibility of having lived a life without her terrified you, so much so that it was the first time you were actually grateful that the blip had happened, because it made it possible for her to be sitting on the couch next to you, spending her birthday morning with you after making her her favorite breakfast.

"Oh, come on, Nat," you laughed, as you placed the cake on the coffee table, and started pouring the wine. "You age like this fine wine. I imagine how divine you'll look in your 40s, in your 50s... don't take that away from me," you spoke seriously, as if the candles really did have the power to fulfill her wishes.

She laughed loudly, and took the glass of wine you gave her, "38 is the most I'm willing to age. It is my final offer."

You rolled your eyes playfully, and raised your glass, "Very well. To your penultimate year of aging. Cheers!"

The rest of the morning, and part of the afternoon was spent lazying on the couch, marathoning romantic comedies from the 90s and early 2000s.

Until the clock struck 5:00 p.m., it was one hour before Natasha's adoptive parents arrived, and the nervousness was starting to hit you.

"My love, it's time to get off the couch and get ready," you spoke, pausing the Julia Roberts movie 'Eat, Pray, Love'.

"Ughhhh!" She protested, covering herself up to her head with the blanket resting on top of you both. Said blanket was perhaps twice the size of the two of you, and perhaps three times as heavy. It was the best weapon against the December cold.

"Nat, I don't want your parents to find us in penguin pajamas and ugly sweaters," you laughed, shaking her gently. "I want to make a good first impression. Come on!"

"You're overthinking," she replied, resting her head in your lap, under the blanket. "They won't mind your outfit, and believe me, they'll love you."

You sighed lightly.

"I hope so," you replied, scratching her hair with your fingertips. "I'm much younger than you, and I don't want them to think I'm immature, or..."

"Alexei still insists on wearing his superhero costume, even though it looks tiny on him," Natasha interrupted you, before your head wandered. "Maturity is something that doesn't exist in my family, you take it easy."

You laughed a little, and that little anecdote was enough to give you significant relief. If Natasha said you'd be fine, then it was true.

The redhead was somewhat reserved when it came to her family.

You understood that she wanted to be sure that it was going to be something long and meaningful before she let you into that sacred side of her life, so it wasn't a year and a half after you met her that you finally would get to know the famous Melina and Alexei. You felt more than privileged to know that your relationship with her had already reached that point.

She also always mentioned her little sister Yelena, whom she had lost to the blip. You wished you could have met that other brave soul who destroyed Dreykov and his entire twisted organization, saving thousands of girls and women around the world.

"Well..." she said, suddenly getting up from your lap, as she pulled back the blanket. Afterwards, she planted a quick kiss on your lips. "I need a few minutes to mentally prepare myself and get out of here. Get in the shower and then I'll join you."

Within forty-five minutes, both of you were fully dressed and ready to welcome Melina and Alexei to Natasha's apartment.

The table was set with a white tablecloth, four plates with their respective cutlery and glasses. In the middle was the previously started wine and a bottle of soda that was a little wet, as it had just been taken out of the fridge five minutes before. The older woman's parents would bring takeout dinner and cake, so the table was ready just to serve the food and eat.

Punctually, at 6:00 p.m., you heard the doorbell ring.

You took a deep breath, and together with Natasha, you headed for the door.

Naturally, she was the first to greet them and pull them into a heartwarming embrace, which was somewhat clumsy because it was obstaclized by the bags of food in Melina's hands and the box of cake in Alexei's right arm. You stood there, watching the scene feeling both tenderness and nervousness, because your girlfriend's parents were finally standing in front of you.

The redhead took the cake and a bag of food, and with her head pointed in your direction, "This is (Y/N), (Y/N), this is Melina and Alexei."

With a gentle smile, you waved at them, "It's very nice to meet you, Miss Vostokoff, and Mister Shostakov."

"Oh, let's drop the formalities, c'mere!" Alexei exclaimed, and held out his arms to wrap you in a tight embrace.

You let out a giggle, and accepted his offer. He squeezed you and you let out a playful groan of complaint. Melina, laughing as you did, hugged you once the man released you, however, she was gentler and briefer, concluding it with a rub on your back.

"Please call us by our names," she spoke. "Natasha has talked so much about you that you're not even a stranger. So we don't want to be strangers to you either."

You looked at Natasha, and she smiled broadly, having also enjoyed the scene at your first meeting with her parents.

"Very well," you chuckled. "Please, let me help you with this," you offered, pointing to the single bag she was carrying.

"Oh, thank you," she agreed, passing you the bag.

You and Natasha placed the two bags on the table, and the cake on the kitchen counter.

"Beer?" Natasha offered to Alexei.

"Oh, please!" he exclaimed, sitting down on one of the chairs next to Melina. Across from both of them, Natasha and you would sit.

You heard the sound of two bottles being uncorked, and Natasha was the last to join the table, handing one bottle to Alexei and both of them toasting and then taking a big sip.

The dinner went wonderfully.

Natasha was right, her parents were easy-going and funny, each in their own way. Alexei always had a joke on the tip of his tongue, and Melina, though calmer than him, laughed lightly and added to the joke just to make you all laugh. At the end of the evening, when they bid their fond farewells, you completely forgot how nervous you felt a few hours earlier. They were enchanted with you and the feeling was mutual.

A small meow was heard about a minute after Natasha's parents left, and she stepped forward, opening the window to reveal the black cat sitting on the stairs. Liho always wandered around her building, but Natasha's floor was her favorite due to the redhead always giving her food and treats. She was a very easy cat to love, and it didn't take long for her to grow on Natasha, so she was unofficially adopted by her.

"Sorry, Liho," she said, caressing behind her ears. "You were late. There will be no food for the unpunctual."

"Hey, don't be mean," you teased, reaching up to stroke the cat's cheek. She happily bowed her head, receiving your affection.

"I'm kidding," she let out a giggle, and headed for the kitchen. From there, she pulled out one of the cans of cat tuna she always bought for the feline. Once she placed it in a plate on the floor, the cat ran in her direction and didn't hesitate to devour the dish, making you both laugh. "Oh, thank you so much for coming to visit me for my birthday, little one. You're adorable."

You walked in Natasha's direction, and wrapped your arms around her waist. One thing you loved about her was that, no matter by what kind of physical contact you manifested your love for her, the older woman always seemed to melt at your touch.

"Stay another night," she whispered, entwining your hands in hers and then kissing them.

It was the fifth night in a row she had said that to you. No problem, though, it wasn't the first time it had happened, so you prepared yourself beforehand and packed more clothes to stay with her as long as you both wanted.

"Yes, I have another change of clothes..." you replied. "I think at this point, I'll have more clothes here than at home."

She turned to meet your gaze, and glanced at your lips briefly to lean in and kiss you gently. You, likewise, melted at any action of your girlfriend, and the taste of her lips never failed to delight you immensely.

"Move in with me," she was quick to say, resting her forehead against yours. "Let's find a nice house, let's officially adopt Liho, hell, let's adopt a kid when we're ready. I want everything with you."

December 3rd, 2023

"Did you enjoy your time with Grandma Melina?" You asked the little girl walking beside you in the direction of the car.

"Very much! She taught me some fighting techniques, and then we tried them on Grandpa Alexei," she replied, and you laughed at her statement. "He went down like a sack of potatoes."

Alissa Grace Romanoff.

A girl you and Natasha adopted when she was four years old. Now, at six, you were increasingly amazed at how smart, strong and determined she was, showing an interest in being like her mother but also possessing an artistic sensitive side.

"Did you leave my drawing with mom?" She asked, once you placed her in the back seat of the car and buckled her in.

The little girl remembered Natasha fondly, and longed for her with all her heart. Fortunately, she was at an age where she was more likely to remember more, and you would keep her memory alive in her mind.

You and Natasha worked hard to give her the best memories, so that her childhood was something she looked back on with fondness and happiness, unlike your girlfriend, who couldn't do the same and always avoided to think in the slighest about the matter.

"Of course I did, I left her your drawing and the beautiful flowers you suggested," you confirmed, kissing her small forehead and then heading to the driver's seat.

You needed some time alone in the cemetery every time you visited your girlfriend, even more so on this day. On the one visit where you took your daughter, you broke down to such an extent that she ended up crying a lot more than she initially was.

Knowing that holding back wasn't the best way to go, you preferred to go alone and vent properly. It hadn't even been two months since October 16th, so there were still times when you cried to the point where you couldn't get up from the floor. And when you finally did, your eyes were so swollen that you had to go home and wash your face so that they would look better so as not to worry the little girl.

Melina and Alexei insisted that you visit Natasha first, and as always, they were more than happy to spend time with their granddaughter. Since you got up early, knowing that you would take your sweet time, you returned early as well, so that they would also have their space on this day to visit their beloved daughter.

The day passed quietly.

You bought some lunch, and both of you ate while watching 'Tangled' for the thousandth time, but this movie ended up being background noise, as your daughter continued to tell you about how Merlina did her combat technique demonstrations and Alexei was the 'brave volunteer' who would attack her, even if he wasn't volunteering or brave at all.

At 5 p.m., you sat next to Alissa at the coffee table in the living room, and opened her maths book. She had an assignment to complete a page of two-digit addition problems, and although it was due on Friday, she was always allowed to do it on Sunday afternoons.

You preferred her to do it as soon as possible so she could spent the whole weekend freely with no pending homework, but well, the habit of leaving it until last minute stuck with you because Natasha was a little bit of a softie.

October 30th, 2022

You heard the loud sound of falling metal, causing you to startle and wake up in alarm.

Natasha was not in your bed, and that increased your concern. Maybe it was a thief, a spy, an enemy of Natasha's who broke into the house...

But when you ran to see the source of the sound, you found Natasha in the kitchen, and Alissa sitting at the counter. They both looked in your direction, and smiled innocently.

"We didn't mean to wake you, detka," Natasha spoke, and you noticed the silver bowl in the dishwasher, the one that previously fell and woke you up, nearly giving you a heart attack.

"Oh, what's wrong?" You asked, your eyes half open. The clock on the microwave read one in the morning.

"I went to get a glass of water, and mom was reading in the living room," Alissa explained. "I couldn't sleep, and neither could she."

"So we made Halloween-themed cupcakes," Natasha concluded, pointing with her head towards the oven, whose dim light gave you a view of the cupcakes baking inside it.

You laughed at Natasha's solution, and were deeply touched as well. Any other parent would have made their kid a glass of milk, read a story, or accompanied their child until they fell back asleep, but your girlfriend decided to keep her awake and make Halloween cupcakes.

"I suppose you'll write a note saying that Alissa won't be going to school," you deduced, knowing the redhead very well.

She nodded.

Your daughter didn't even have to pretend to be sick to miss school, she just had to say she didn't want to go and Natasha would melt at her puppy eyes and let her stay home. As much as you hated to be the boring one, you had to set certain boundaries, however, your efficient communication with both of them always led to an agreement without making you look like the bad one. So, if Alissa went to school, on the way home you would stop for ice cream or go to the park.

But of course, this was an occasion where there was no choice but to agree to skip school, otherwise Alissa would be sleepy all day.

"All right, let's start working on the toppings, shall we?" You said with a wide smile.

December 3rd, 2023

"These crayons that Aunt Yelena gave me have very good pigmentation," Alissa commented, as she ran the brownish-red crayon over the white sheet of paper.

You laughed at the use of words. Somehow, she always managed to learn new words and use them appropriately. Little things you noticed and loved about your daughter.

"Oh, the 500 color box she brought from her last mission's trip? What are you drawing?" You asked, looking up from your book to pay attention to her. However, she was quick to cover her work with her arms.

"You can see when I'm done," she established.

Whenever she did the tedious math homework, Alissa redirected her attention to her drawings. She always knew that after working hard, she deserved to do something she enjoyed afterwards. No one told her, she just knew it was the right thing to do, and you were going to fight to death with anyone who dared make her believe otherwise.

Yelena could be considered the world-traveling aunt, except for the fact that it wasn't for fun and more for the purposes of freeing brainwashed Black Widows.

And when she was in town, your daughter would always come back with her sugar at 110% because her Aunt Yelena spoiled her with exaggerated doses of sweets, after taking her to the amusement park or the movies. You had difficulty putting her to sleep, because it was 9 p.m. and Alissa kept running around the house even though you begged her in every possible way that it was time to go to sleep.

So, while she was at the coffee table drawing, you were on the couch with Liho lounging in the other single recliner, taking her fifth nap of the day. The little black cat was no exception when it came to missing Natasha, constantly climbing on the bed on the side that used to be where she slept, meowing as if she was wondering where that nice redhead she used to visit in her apartment had gone.

Cats were transcendental beings, and you wondered if during her naps, she really did have astral travels where she could meet your girlfriend without worrying about the planes of existence that she could easily visit with zero effort.

You had your legs covered by the same blanket that once also kept your girlfriend warm on these cold days, and how she used to sneak under it to lie on your lap or to tease you by placing her cold hands under your shirt.

"I'm done," Alissa said after a few minutes. "It's mom."

You took the drawing delicately, as if it were a work that required the touch of cautious hands only, almost as if a very abrupt movement would fade the work captured on paper.

You watched carefully.

It was Natasha, but she did not have her reddish hair with blonde ends as your daughter had known her, but was from years ago, and you wondered if the girl had come across more pictures besides the ones hanging on the wall.

"Ah, here she has long curly hair. You portrayed her beautifully, honey," you complimented her, a nostalgic smile plastered on your face. "There was a time when her hair was like that, actually."

"I know," she admitted. "Mom told me she was just working for S.H.I.E.L.D back then and that's how she met Iron Man, pretending to be Natalie Rushman, a new assistant. That was the start of this whole Avengers adventure."

"Oh, yes..." you let out a chuckle. "Who told you that? Aunt Yelena?"

"No, mom told me."

"Ah, mom told you... when?"

"Last night, last night I dreamed about her," Alissa replied, so casually that it seemed to surprise her no longer. At first, she woke up crying, saying she hated the reality, and wished it wasn't a dream. However, over the days she began to relate it as if it were a regular occurrence. "We were in my room, and she saw my drawing wall. She asked me to draw her this way too, because she misses her long hair," she added. "Oh, and she also told me that birthday candles actually grant wishes. Because she once wished she was 36 forever, but she negotiated with you and it ended up being 38."

You tensed your jaw, and you mewed all the way in while making a superhuman effort not to burst into tears right there.

You had these recurring dreams of Natasha, mostly where she would tell you how proud she was of how you kept going for yourself and your daughter every day. In another, which was the day you met Yelena, the same night, you dreamed she asked you about how you liked her. In all the dreams she told you that she loved you and Alissa, and that sooner or later, she would find a way to get back to you.

"I'll find a way back," she said. "In the meantime, remember that love transcends time and space. We love each other, that's all we need to stay together more than ever."

Your daughter had similar dreams, with the difference being that many of them were just about the two of them spending time together like they used to.

You knew that Natasha healed her inner child through activities with Alissa. She might have looked mature and tough on the outside, but on the inside, she loved spending time with her little girl and at the same time giving the little Natasha living inside her all those experiences she was deprived of.

You thought you were going crazy and delusional, and that these dreams were just your subconscious going to great lengths to offer comfort and protect you and Alissa from pain.

But, it was not possible for Alissa to know that, as it happened long before she was adopted. That little anecdote you never mentioned it to a single soul, and neither did Natasha, otherwise it would have been brought up long before. Besides, your daughter wasn't a liar. And there was no way for her to know this.

There was just no way for her to know.

"You know, mom told me that, as long as we love her, she can transcend space and time, and be here, even if it's not on the physical plane like we are," you spoke finally, your voice failing to sound steady. Still, you didn't try harder. Natasha taught you in that support group when you first met her that even the strongest heroes had a right to break.

"Like she does when she visits me," Alissa concluded, smiling excitedly. "I know it's not my head or my imagination. I know it's her."

March 2nd, 2023

"I know it's you, mom!"

"No, who's your mom? I'm Rapunzel," Natasha said, in a high-pitched voice, far from her raspy tone.

She looked adorable in that blonde wig that came down to her heels, the purple dress and the makeup you did before your daughter arrived at the park where she would be having her very first surprise birthday party. Natasha insisted on dressing up instead of hiring an impersonator, because that way it would be more special and a nicer memory that her daughter would look back on in a few years.

"And I am, Flynn Ryder!" Steve came out from behind a tree, with his hair styled like said character, and a costume that also closely resembled, he even had that cross-body bag around his torso.

"That is you, Uncle Steve," she paused. "Oh, but I don't need a princess when my mom is a hero!" The little girl ran from her seat, and hugged Natasha's legs, who with a pout and teary eyes, lifted her off the floor and hugged her tightly.

That scene caused your eyes to glaze over as well, and as you looked around at everyone present, you realized you weren't the only one.

Steve, Clint, Melina, Alexei... everyone was touched. Everyone close to Natasha knew very well what it meant to her to have been given the opportunity to be a mother despite her past and unavailability to get pregnant, and watching the amazing job she was doing would warm up even the coldest heart.

"Hey! What about me?" Steve exclaimed, feigning offense at Alissa's exclusion.

"You too!" The little girl extended her arm in his direction, inviting him to join in the embrace.

Natasha then extended her free arm in your direction, and you didn't know how or at what point, but suddenly everyone present was enveloped in a group hug. Even Alexei ended up joining despite his previous rivalry with Steve. It was something everyone definitely needed.

"Okay, darling, let's pretend you don't know it's us and let us perform the act we prepared," Natasha spoke, and the little girl laughed at the silly impression of Rapunzel and Flynn Ryder your girlfriend and Steve had prepared for this special ocassion.

December 3rd, 2023

"We will be here when you come back, my love," you whispered with your forehead leaning against Natasha's, after pulling stay from a passionate kiss.

"Don't worry yourself. Clint and I will go to another planet, collect one of the Infinity Stones and be back in literally a minute," was the last sentence Natasha directed towards you, very confident that those words would be the truth.

"Damn you, Natalia!" You exclaimed, throwing your phone towards the floor of your room, so hard that you wouldn't be surprised if it broke.

It wasn't the best idea to end this day looking at old pictures; of your first dates with Natasha, of when you moved in together with Liho, and of the day you adopted Alissa, among thousands of other memories frozen through photograph.

You were drowning in your own tears again like every night, after Alissa was already sound asleep in her room to hear you.

It was a routine where you fell asleep after draining it all away, so you would have the strength to face another day without her.

You missed her caresses, her kisses, hearing her laugh, her jokes and her raspy voice in the mornings.

All physical aspects that ultimately were a form in which her eternal essence manifested itself, but you knew now more than ever that you were only used to her physical form, but that her essence would live on until the end of time.

Until she would return to us again.

[armpirate]

Soundleasure | Choi San || CH. 1

Pairings: Soft!San x fem!reader || Strangers to lovers, fake dating

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, online sex, ghosting

Warnings: inexperienced!San, fem!reader, masturbation, online sex, camboy, first times.

Summary: You can do whatever you please and be whoever you want on the Internet. And San knew that a little bit too well.

After finally following all the signs the universe was throwing at him, he started living a double life that no one was aware of. Everyone in his daily life knew him as Choi San, the reserved and quiet boy who wouldn't raise his voice, and would barely communicate with anyone outside of his comfort group. But only a few knew him as Soundleasure, the man with a sexy voice and a filthy mind that had their toes curling just with his narrations.

He never thought of the possibility of those two lives ever meeting, he had always tried for them to follow a parallel route and had always played safe to keep his friends from ever suspecting that side even existed. But his plans will start to crumble when he gets a little too close with one of his subscribers and she invades his real-self and altergo's universes without being able to stop it.

Y/n will not only help him to keep his secret from his circle, but will also show him there's more of Soundleasure in him than he'd like to admit. 

Next >>

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 12 minutes

Chapter warnings: Audio porn, camboy, female masturbation, explicit talk

He looked at her with a weird smirk, that far from being cute and attractive made him look like an even bigger asshole. It wasn't like she was too into him when they started texting, but at least she wasn't disgusted by him like she was then.

She didn't care about picking him up at the station, when it was late at night, mainly because he had previously told her he was new in the city and he still didn't know how to move well around. And she also was able to laugh it off when he whistled at her from afar when she walked past him, instead of just calling out her name. Y/n could shrug it off, and blame it on him being new on dating apps and just meeting new people in general.

But there was something off around his vibes.

And she should've run when he started mentioning how desperate people in those dating apps were, and how lonely they should feel in their lives to recur to meeting strangers and trusting them. He had a point there. She shouldn't have trusted his nice talk at all, because that way she wouldn't have been in the uncomfortable moment she was in.

They both were walking next to each other, while Y/n grasped the fabric inside the pockets of her jacket while trying to hold herself back from giving a bad look or a bad response. Maybe he was just nervous, and he was just trying to break the ice between them.

—Shall we get in somewhere? —he suggested, walking past the line of several restaurants.

—I'm not really hungry —she shook her head, dropping a small nervous smile.

—Me neither —Jordan scoffed—. Let's just get something to drink somewhere. It's too cold to be walking around.

When his lips curved, and she was able to see his crooked teeth with a gentle smile, she chose to give it another chance. He was cute looking, with his tanned skin and his gleaming green eyes. She was being too harsh on him after just fifteen minutes.

Y/n insisted on going somewhere else when he stopped in front of an establishment with wide crystal walls that allowed to see the decoration inside. Although it seemed like a pub at first glance, she spotted some people sitting on the tables having pizzas and pasta. And even the empty tables had the cutlery placed in front of each chair, for the moment someone would take those seats. Despite her mentioning it probably wasn't the type of place they were looking for, Jordan carried on, convincing her that they'd be allowed to only have a drink.

Five minutes later after sitting and being handed the menu, she moved her eyes up at him.

—Let's get something to eat. We can share a pizza if you like —he closed his menu, pointing at hers with his chin—. Pick whatever you like.

—Are you sure? —she asked, eyeing the different types of pizzas they were offering— Is there something you don't like?

Her question was genuine. Because even though Jordan already said it was her choice, she wanted to pick something he'd be fine with eating.

He shook his head, and assured her he ate anything that was served in front of him. Still, she went for something safe and asked for a Pepperoni pizza when the waiter stopped by their table to take their order. Although Y/n would've hoped he had stayed for a bit longer when silence knocked at their table.

The darkness outside didn't allow her to see further than her own reflection on the window, but it was better than looking at Jordan's uncomfortable face as he found nothing to talk about. And it'd have been like that on the way to the bay if she hadn't brought up random topics, like asking for how long he had been in Boston and what was the reason that took him there. She wasn't the outgoing type, but she still found the way to build a conversation to fill the silence. She was showing some type of interest.

She couldn't say the same about him, when she found the lighting of his phone illuminating his face, after she turned to him.

She still gave it a pass. There was no point in discarding someone only because he was shy.

Jordan was also weird. After saying he didn't have a problem with any type of food, she found him taking the slices of pepperoni from his half of the pizza, and even poked into the cheese with his fork to take the remaining. And seeing him struggling with his food made her feel bad, because maybe she should've opted for a more basic option so his dinner wouldn't be ruined.

She regretted those thoughts three seconds later.

—I thought you said you weren't hungry —he commented, after she was done with her half.

Biting her tongue, she held back any type of rude response. Her eyebrows frowned slightly though, confused by the comment, and unable to know what she should answer to that.

They'd pay for that food anyway, was she expected to take a slice and then leave the rest of her half there?

She just giggled the comment away, moving her eyes over the restaurant and stopping at the TV placed at the corner where the counter ended. She had never been interested in football, but that day it seemed like the best entertainment for the night. Only moving her eyes back to her table when Jordan called her attention, after hearing two of the waiters speaking in Italian.

—You said you spoke Italian, right? —he hurriedly asked.

During one of their late night conversations, she did mention she spoke Italian. Not a big amount though. Just enough to keep a simple conversation, after being able to learn some words and understand the way their grammar worked after her ex-boyfriend explained it to her. Not like it was useful though, because when they went to Milan to meet his grandparents she barely used the language. Mattia adopted the role of the translator without giving her a chance to speak once.

—Well, I said I knew some words —she nervously smiled—. That's quite different.

—Why don't you ask for the bill in Italian? I bet they'll think it's pretty cool.

Or they'll think she's a dumbass mocking them.

She had nothing to lose though. She could give it a try, and not step inside that restaurant a single time again in her life.

Her pronunciation was poor, and she struggled with the words when the pressure of having all those eyes on her finally kicked her. And, while the waiter smiled gently and nodded after she was done, she heard a chuckle on her right that activated the last nerve.

—You tried, at least —he kept scoffing, shaking his head and drinking.

Her lips were pressed tight against each other, dying to set free all the mischievous words going through her head, but avoiding to make a scene.

She didn't fight to split the bill, she didn't comment on anything, Y/n just wanted to get back home, delete the dating app and forget that date ever happened.

—I'm not the type to fight. I really don't like violence. But if you're being an asshole, I have to bring you back to reality, you know?

Wow.

What was she even supposed to answer?

Y/n just nodded, seeing the light when she was able to spot her building from afar. But peace wasn't reaching her that easily yet.

She was ready to say goodbye, open the door and never see him again, but he sat at the small stairs that led to her door, lighting a cigarette and keeping the monologue while looking into the distance.

Maybe her skin was way too thin, but she couldn't find the way to feel interested about anything that was coming out of his mouth after what happened in the restaurant. Maybe she had been so hopeless about love after so many failing dates, that she found herself bothered at the slightest thing.

—I guess we'll meet again —he threw the cigarette to the road in between the two vehicles parked in front—. Next time you're the one paying —he reminded her.

—Sure, sure.

Before Jordan was able to hook her in a hug, she walked up the steps, looking for her keys in her bag and opening the door before she finally said goodbye to him.

—Get home safely.

If he expected to get in her bed that night, he'd have a shocking reality check.

A loud sigh and the keys tingling when she dropped them over the green sideboard at the entrance informed of her way back home, having Julius -a black cat with a bit of overweight-, peeking his head over the corner to confirm it was its owner uninterestedly.

After closing the door, she saw the golden hooks she bothered herself to hang so she wouldn't be leaving her keys anywhere. It was cute, and it went perfectly well with the style of the house, but she was so upset over the evening she had, that she couldn't find herself picking up the keys and hanging them there.

She could only pray Julius wouldn't jump over the sideboard and drag her keys to the floor, so he could play until he pushed them under the couch like the last time.

On her way to her room, where she was looking forward to hiding once she reached her bed, she felt her phone buzzing in her hand. Her head fell back with an exasperation moan when she saw the dickpic blasting on her screen.

What was even the reason for that bullshit?

Loverboy6577 shot higher than what he could reach. Well, at least he was straightforward and he wasn't wasting her time.

She snuggled inside her bed, finally taking the decision of deleting her profile and letting go of any possible hook up, or relationship, that could come with it. She wasn't going to be delusional anymore.

Boys just weren't worthy of her time.

At least not any that were at her reach, or realistic to her. That was what she convinced herself of when she found herself smiling excitedly when a notification popped up at the top of her screen over her social media.

*Soundleasure has just posted a video*

Reaching for her earpods inside the drawer of her nightstand, she lied on her back, clicking on the notification to be redirected to his page.

If someone in her circle knew she was wasting money on content like that, she'd probably be judged and dragged to shreds. Fuck, she was the type to laugh at people paying to consume that type of content before she found him through a random video in a porn site -after another failed date, unsurprisingly.

Dating was difficult, love was non-existent for the possible partners she had met. What was the point of wasting money and time going out with them, in exchange of some lame sex, when she could enjoy herself with a sexy voice and her own imagination?

When she first met him, it was cheaper. And it wasn't like he had many subscribers either. But his exposure increased with the passing of time, having her little secret increasing the pricing in subscriptions.

When she played the video, she was met with a completely dark screen -something usual from him. It was one of the things that attracted her the most, not being distracted by some random nudes or sex scenes, and being allowed to let the arousal properly build up.

—Was it a hard day today? —he asked.

Y/n's head instantly nodded to his question, feeling like he posted that video purposely for her and her mood, trying to make up for what the rest of the irky males around her made her go through. Although she probably would've been okay with his rough side as well, like some other times. She would've been happy with whatever was the mood of his audio.

—Hmm, does my baby want me to make her feel better? —he rustled softly, caressing her ears so gently that she moved her head to the side, as if he was actually next to her.

His breathing was light, before the sound of his pecks came. At some point she swore she could even feel his lips against her skin, washing the tension away with every kiss.

—I'll make it better, babe —he assured through the mic—. Let me kiss you.

She loved his content, but that part always took her out, turning her into a giggling ball while cringing over the sound of his lips trying to mimic the sound of a wet kiss, gasping for air with every move. It helped her to get an idea of what his lips looked like though. They probably were a pale pink, adopting a darker tone after a make out session that could suck their souls.

He proceeded to describe how he moved down her neck, worshiping every centimeter of exposed skin in her body until he reached the elastic of her panties. She could perfectly picture a pair of fierce eyes looking over her mount, before he asked:

—Can I take it off?

Along with his audio, her pants and panties were long gone under the sheets, going in sync with his voice.

—Look at you, so wet already —he groaned.

The mix of his heavy breathing, mixed to the wet sounds coming from her core when she slipped her fingers through her slit, almost made her back arch.

All her hairs raised when she heard his breathing cutting off before he sucked on something, skillfully moving his tongue and sucking his lips onto her hard button -that was trapped in the slow circles two of her fingers kept tracing.

—You taste so good —his words were followed by another open-mouthed kiss—. I'll make you feel alright. I gotcha, babe.

He spitted, making her tiptoes curl when she imagined his spit rolling down her folds before he sank his face into her core again. Her fingers kept moving over her clit, mimicking the twirls of his tongue, wishing for the millionth time that it wasn't only an audio, but a reality.

—Cum on my tongue. I'll make you cum on my cock after.

Along with his voice and his sounds, her back arched and her pussy clenched around nothing as she allowed the pleasure to invade her after he motioned her to cum.

She still went on with the audio, touching herself to mimic the situation he was settling for her, trying to make it as real and vivid as possible while she heard his groans and moans when he slipped his cock in her. It was insane for her how he was able to have her moaning, pressing her thighs together when she finger fucked herself while listening to his whimperings and praises.

There was only one problem there, and it was that she bet her moans would sound perfectly mixed with his in that audio, while they did in real life what he was promising in the video.

Maybe it was her low self-esteem for the night acting up, or maybe her brain was still fried by the two orgasms he helped her having, but she only felt encouraged to enter his profile while she was still recovering, unstable breathing while she tried to type a message for him.

Usually, he just seemed so out of reach. Soundleasure was a thing, she forgot he was even a person after cumming. He was just content that she consumed, because she felt lonely and needy, and no real man would make her reach her high the way he did with his voice only. But it didn't seem like she thought like that that night.

"Good video... But maybe next time you could have my moans in it" she wrote in his private message.

Y/n didn't want to think about it too deeply after sending it. If he answered, good. If he didn't, then he'd keep being that content she consumed randomly at night when loneliness knocked at her door. 

[phantomtrader19]

POTO LONDON 16/03/2024 CHUMISA’S 3RD SHOW!! - REVIEW

(Audio will be gifted soon!)

I had booked this trip before Chumisa was announced to be taking over as alternate the day before so I was kicking myself I just missed her first show, I had heard clips of her online and she sounded incredible and lots of people were raving about her.

I went to the show expecting Eve or Colleen to be on as Lily had been off the Thursday and I didn’t think Chumisa would have done 2 shows directly after her debut BUT low and behold her name was on the castboard however I was a little skeptical as there has been a few times where it’s been incorrect.

During the Hannibal ballet Chumisa came out and I was so excited!! She looked gorgeous in the costume and wig! I also got the pleasure of seeing Lily as Carlotta again who was also brilliant, during Carlotta’s think of me Chumisa was in awe of her and just as the cloth was about to drop you could sense that she had sensed the presence of the phantom.

She began think of me and had a lovely vibrato to start off and then she delivered an unbelievable rendition of the song! So elegant in the way she moved in the Elissa skirt and so smiley like her Christine couldn’t believe her luck! Her cadenza was angelic to say the least so floaty and the high note so strong!

Her chemistry with Joe in the dressing room was so so good she played Christine like a total giddy teenager which really worked!

Her title song was lovely she has a great lower register for the beginning and then her cadenza was BEAUTIFUL and really powerful!

Perfect acting in music of the night played Christine with so much curiosity she was just fascinated by the phantom, her facial expressions and again so elegant in the way she moved!

The unmasking again just great acting and she held the note when singing “who’s is that face in the shadows…who’s is that face in the maaaaask” tiny detail that I LOVED

In the rooftop she was not having any of Raoul’s BS she completely stood on her own and almost seemed to be like well if you don’t believe me see ya later!

All I ask of you was brilliant! Again their chemistry was so palpable one of my fave performances I’ve seen of that song!

Masquerade again her little acting choices were so solid it was as if she was searching for the phantom in the crowd! Notes/managers 2 she stood up to Carlotta really strongly and when she got to Twisted every way you could see her Christine totally break down like she had nothing left to give, truly wonderful poignant acting choices!

Her wishing was SOOOO GOOD she relied a little more on her belt which I imagine she’ll get more into the soprano side further into her run but for her 3rd ever show an absolute acting masterclass!

In PONR she was stunning! When she knew it was the phantom it was almost rage coming out in her singing like she was so over his nonsense lol

NOW…..the final lair…..WOW

She was inCREDible!!! Again a lot of belt but it worked so so well for her portrayal of Christine she really held her own here I was blown away! I got that Chumisa rn is more of a Raoul Christine as opposed to Lily who’s the polar opposite so a really lovely change!

Overall for her 3rd show as Christine I see Chumisa being a fan favourite, so much charisma and charm in her Christine and vocally was beautiful and will only get better! All 4 London Christine’s are top of their game we’re truly spoiled!

Costume notes:

- Her wig texture and style was stunning I just wish they’d add a bit more hair to make it a bit fluffier.

- Her Elissa Skirt is like Anouk’s one so no big bow in the back and gold appliqué round the fake bodice.

- Lovely mint bow in her hair for Il muto and I’m not a massive costume buff however her rooftop dress looked different and I can’t pinpoint why?

- Her masquerade dress was slightly better than Lily’s the bodice was perfectly fit and adequately beaded and the skirt had a lovely shape! West end star princess’ are just not my fave tbh!

- Her wishing dress was like the original production ones with the waterfall drape which was interesting I wonder if that will change

[secret-subject]

Do You Ever Just Forget How To Do Hypnosis?

Not even joking. This isn't some sort of shit-post I promise, but sometimes with ADHD brain going brrrr I will get into my hypnosis thing whether it be a script or a live scene and my brian will just go:

"hey are you sure you actually remember how to do hypnosis?"

So the question is, how do we combat this feeling? Because let's be honest it's one that is not rational nor required when you are tisting on the regular and like me have a busy work schedule of giving people the hypnosis feels. (As a quick side note, in a scene with a trusted partner it would be hot af to have your ability to "fight back" with hypnosis taken away, especially if you were both switches with sticky fingers and brains, but I'm going to pocket that for another time...)

Step one: Take a break! I'm not even kidding. I know when my battery is dead energy wise I am more prone to this kind of thinking. Maybe you are tired or overworked as a dominant/top (the person doing the hypnosis doesn't always have to be dominant). I know people who can literally do scene after scene after scene, and that has never been me. I literally went three years without hypnotizing anyone outside of making audios and livestreaming, including my wife, because I was chronically ill and just worn down. You can't be a super tist if you aren't taking care of yourself. So, take a break. Look after yourself. If you aren't doing that it could be a sign that burnout is coming, or approaching and you need to protect yourself. Never be afraid to say "that's enough". Many times I've hit my limit not only long term but mid scene as a Domme. It's okay and it's very normal and I wish we spoke about it more.

Step two: Try something new! Sometimes, I get stuck in a rut of doing the same thing over and over. I love repetition and conditioning using it is fun but wow, it can get boring for everyone. So this feeling could be a sign it's time to read some smut, listen to some audios, read the blogs and try something new. It might not work, but it might also be the best thing you've ever done. Recently I also have been sending tiny audios to friends based on whims or ideas I've been thinking of. This is a great way to test something new, low stakes, and play around. I also recommend having people you can talk to. I love to befriend other hypnosis creators and community members because not only are they just "built different" and fun to be around but also I can hear them talk about their passions, which reignites mine and we can pool ideas.

Set three: Read some resources! Education is so important in this scene. Now that doesn't mean do what I did and go to a certifcation course, I don't think people outside of people wanting to be a professional hypnotist should do this. But it is important to refresh your knowledge and not be afraid to learn. Now I am an ex-teacher so I am biased as hell about the importance of education, but, it's not hard to upgrade your skills with a little education. Mind Play is a great book, I always recommend it for being simple to read. Go to a class at a convention or locally (they have them online too so you can access them even in places far away like New Zealand). Join a hypnosis discord with discussion rooms or groups. Talk to others about their experiences. Watch a YouTube video on hypnosis. Listen to podcasts about it. These are all educational tools for upgrading your skills and even if like me you've been doing this for an eternity (or what feels like it) you can still refresh your skills and maybe you might learn something that helps get you out of that funk.

So these are just some of the things that help when my brain decides to gaslight me into thinking I am terrible at this. I know this is never going to be one side fits all but I think it's important to talk about imposter syndrome from all sides of the watch.

Have you ever felt like this? And if so what did you do about it? I'd love to keep this conversation going!

-Secret

[not-quite-normal]

How much would you say COVID affected the production of ATSV (at least on the animation side of things)

little to hardly at all! sony used remote teradici pcoip desktops before covid, so switching to working from home was fairly seamless. we made the switch while we were finishing up mitchells vs the machines (and then i worked on vivo and hotel transylvania 4 before starting on atsv as well), so we had all the wfh wrinkles ironed out before going full force into atsv. we do all our meetings through google meet and use proprietary software to look at/draw on animation playblasts so that lots of other users can see it at the same time on their own screens. it also opened up the opportunity for people to work from further away; we had animators working from various places in the US and eastern canada. i'd say the only way covid affected the production was when somebody actually got sick and had to take time off to recover

unlike a lot of other studios, sony hasn't been enforcing mandatory days we need to be in the office per week, which is awesome because i loved napping too much during my lunch breaks to go into work lol. my job also required me to be in two meetings at the same time all day every day and it was easier on my brain to have one meeting's audio play thru my speakers with the other in one headphone. having to pay attention to two separate meetings in both headphones when i did have to work in the office made me feel like i was having a stroke