#angsty tuesday

[sinistershepherd]

HOMOPHOBIC PARENT DROPS OFF THEIR TRANS KID AND THEY KEEP DEADNAMING AND MISGENDERING THY CHILD AND LOOKS UNCOMFORTABLE (HI THIS HAS HAPPENED)

WHAT PLAYS OUT WITH THE BOTH OF THE BOYOS?????

FIRST OF ALL THIS IS NOT OKAY AND HONESTLY??? WHY HAVE A KID IF YOU AREN’T GOING TO SUPPORT THEM???? ANYWAYS-

Sun and Moon would immediately have the BIGGEST eyes on that parent. They would be staring them down like a confrontation in a western movie.

The first thing they’d probably notice is how uncomfortable the child is. It would be fairly obvious, saying that the kid would probably have that look that says “that’s wrong but I’m too scared to correct you” and that sends off a LOT of red flags for both the brothers.

Sun would deal with the parent, since he is the one with more patience- at least, enough to tolerate the parents ignorance without instantly breaking their neck instead. Moon would lead the kid away, murmuring reassurances the entire way. Depending on if the child would like to shake it off and play with the others or cling to Moon for comfort, he would act accordingly.

First off, Moon would ask the kid if their parents KNOW they’re trans.

If they say yes, Moon will become livid, but still transfer this information over to Sun via their internal network link.

If they say no, then Moon will ask how the kid thinks the parent would respond. Since the parent is transphobic in this scenario, the child would obviously say that they probably wouldn’t react well. This would worry Moon, but he likely wouldn’t comment any further as to not make the child more nervous.

Meanwhile, Sun would speak as calmly to the parents as he possibly could, despite his brewing anger.

“So you know [chosen name] is [gender]? Why do you call [gender] by [gender’s] deadname then, might I ask?” The Solar animatronic would ask politely.

The parent would probably reply in a very condescending tone with words that would only further their decent on Sun and Moon’s ‘good noodle’ list. After gathering the parent’s excuse, Sun would excuse himself and tell the parent that they will take it from here.

Moon has since begun to comfort the child, wishing there was more he could do. The most reassuring thing he could come up with in this situation would be to assure the kid that their gender and name would always be respected within the daycare walls.

Sun would agree.

Just to spite the parent, they would always say:

“Who’s [deadname]? We don’t have anyone by that name that goes here…”

When the parent asks for their child by the wrong name.

Sadly, that is just about as far as it could go by legal regulations. If there is abuse involved, then that would be another story. Their only hope is to make the kid as comfortable as they can when they’re in the daycare :)

[idiot-sl-oth]

I wi infact ask a thing tmr sorry I haven't been doing that lately, t'was not a fun few months

[steddieangstyaugust]

Event Schedule!

Music Monday 🎵

Please Please Please, Let Me Get What I Want – The Smiths

Terrible Things – Mayday Parade

Careless Whisper – George Micheal

The Night We Met – Lord Huron

Teary Tuesday 🥺

"Who did this?"

"Please, stay?"

"I didn't know where else to go."

"I thought we agreed it was over."

Wordy Wednesday ⌨️

Moonlight

Lake

Please

Tomorrow

Trope Thursday 🎭

Second Chance

Miscommunication

Childhood

Missing Scene

Future

Freaky Friday 🦇

Ghosts

Upside Down

Halloween

Skull Rock

Vampire

Speaking Saturday 🗣️

"The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?"

“Where were you?”

"Keep breathing, please."

"Go, see if I care."

"I'm not going to beg you to love me."

Sobbing Sunday 😭

Angst with a Happy Ending

Temporary Character Death

Right Person, Wrong Time

Soulmates

Can't believe we're less than a month until the beginning of this event! This is the first event I've ever run and I'm so excited!! Stay tuned for the event rules post for extra details! In the meantime, I hope the prompts get those writing worms flowing!

Rules & FAQ

Ao3 Collection

[bekkachaos]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

tagged by the unbelievably talented @eddiebabygirldiaz @daffi-990 💕

from the angsty au (spiralling Eddie/addict Buck)

"Your fights," Buck said, breaking the silence without looking up at Eddie or ceasing his movements on the napkin. "That around the corner at the old warehouse on Merrick?"

Eddie blinked twice in quick succession as he stared back at him in surprise.

"Yeah, how'd you know that?" he asked softly, waiting as Buck took another drink from his milkshake before sitting back and giving Eddie a shrug.

"I know a little bit about what goes on around here," he said. "Streets of LA aren't always the most respectable of places, depending on the crowd you know."

Eddie almost replied to say he wouldn't know much about that, but the evidence was written on his face in blue and purple and red. Respectable people didn't go around cage fighting on weeknights and getting suspended from their jobs.

"You ever been?" he said instead, and Buck shook his head.

"Never felt the urge to go watch grown men get sweaty and bloody," he said with a playful smirk on his mouth.

"You should come on Thursday," Eddie shrugged, ignoring his goading while Buck's eyes narrowed.

"Why?"

"Well have you got anything better to do?"

Buck scoffed and went back to his milkshake.

"Didn't think so," Eddie said, loud enough for Buck to hear and scowl over at him.

tagging some lovelies 💕

@monsterrae1 @the-likesofus @bi-buckrights @dr-shortsighted-owl @elvensorceress @loveyourownsmiilee @lonelychicago @spotsandsocks @wildlife4life @jackluvsdaniel @belovedbuddie @bidisasterevankinard @wh0rebehavi0r @thewolvesof1998 @weewootruck @spagheddiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @loveyouanyway @diazsdimples @steadfastsaturnsrings @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @jesuisici33

[bitterkarmaa]

:-D

Eclipse. What would you do if Bloodmoon had got badly hurt? Or even died? Whatver force great enough to take them down. your sons. Would you mourn? Would you be angry?

He seems to pause, contemplating the question uneasily. Numerous scenarios come to mind. His claws tap over the table in front of him, expression twisting into a pained snarl. The mere thought of losing them seems to stir a maelstrom of emotions within him.

“They have been hurt before. How wouldn’t they? They’re reckless…quick to anger. Their nature in itself is dangerous to not only others, but themself, too.”

He spits the words out venomously, his fury merely a shield for the more tender emotions beneath.

“I’d be furious. Livid. There wouldn’t be anyone left untouched from my wrath.”

Then, his expression falls. The anger leaves his face as quickly as it came.

“They’re my boys. I promised I’d never leave them…I don’t intend to break it. They would never be alone, even if their body ceases to function. I don’t think I could live without them, really. A part of myself would die with them.”

He looks away, hiding his face in his hands. The tears that roll down his cheeks go unnoticed.

[puhpandas]

emotional 3 star fam + m.x.e.s arc where after they steal them they learn more about them and find out that they're a lot more sentient than they thought an antivirus from the late 70s would be and that m.x.e.s was built for one purpose to fight against the mimic, but it hasnt been able to fulfill that purpose in a long time after being left to rot all alone in that factory. 3 star took them to use them to be the mimics warden and everything already so theyre able to help m.x.e.s feel fulfilled again by it realizing its purpose again, and updating them so their outdated programming is new and shiny and the cobwebs are dusted off :)

[angstigone]

I ain't doing too well in this period but seeing the first comment underneath a nino sarratore post being «omme de merda» did cheer me up a lot

[valorieravenchild]

When I tell you this S.O.B has me in a chokehold.

Lore below, cause I can't make little guys without giving them sad backstories.

Content warning, reader discretion is advised.

His name is Midos, no last name for as a demon born on the lowest end of the hierarchy he's no more than a slave and whore.

Anger takes hold early and festers until he becomes bitter and volatile until the day he murders he higher demon who brought him. He flees the scene but with the visual differenece in status and not a single thing to call his own he has nowhere to go and soon ends up forced into the House of General Sarius Mordisius against his will.

General Sarius has the reputation of being one of hells crulest generals and takes great pride in the title.

Though trapped and bound to a new master Midos refuses to hide fury any longer an threatens to murder Sarius like he did his former master, should he lay a finger on him. Sarius is instantly facinated, not only for the gall it takes to speak against a General, but also the intoxicating fire in his eyes that speaks for how serious he is.

Sarius doesn't touch him, but he does take full advantage of his status as a slave and quickly makes Midos his own personal one, forced to follow him everywhere and follow his every petty whim.

It all changes when another higher demon does try to force themselves on Midos.

Midos manages to fight them off long enough for Sarius to find out what's happeneing and interfere. The higher demon tries to protest his innocence, as Midos is no more than a slave. Before the demon has finished speaking Sarius kills them outright, creating a bloody mess before a drags Midos back home.

After that they slowly grow closer until Midos climbs the social ladder, despite his place in the hirearchy, and soon becomes Sarious' favorite concubine, a title he defends with bloody hands and fangs. He never loses his fire and anger, but Sarius makes it bearable.

Sarius never lays a finger on him until Midos asks for it and eventually he is only his concubine by status, and lover and equal when they are alone.

[mairaiscarrierofthepaperclips]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Angsty McSadface is nearly done! Huzzah and hurrah. Until then, enjoy a wee snippet.

He wanted to be with Eddie, in all the ways that mattered. He wanted nothing more than to say ‘fuck it’ to the universe, to the static under his skin, and give in to the need that curled low in his stomach every time he opened that front door. To pull Eddie towards him, cup a hand around his jaw, and see if his lips tasted anything close to what Buck imagined them to be. To feel the solid heat of Eddie’s body beneath his and know without a doubt that he was alive, that Buck was alive, and here, and present.

Because he felt like he was shaking apart when they weren’t together, and sometimes even when they were.

[starcurtain]

I, for one, think that Diluc should get to ascend to Celestia. Just once, you know, as a treat.

And then Celestia should make him the god of wine just to absolutely drive him batshit for the rest of eternity.

"Next person who asks me to bless their beer mug gets a 20% upcharge on their entire tab. Are you feeling brave?"

[steddio]

steddie vegas au part 4

part 1; part 2; part 3; ao3

(thank you all so much for your kind words! this part gets spicy 🔥 if you want to skip the smut, it starts with "Steve holds Eddie’s gaze as he slowly strips off his shirt." you can come back at "Steve jolts back into consciousness abruptly")

–

“I can’t wear this, Robs, I look ridiculous.” 

Robin rolls her eyes. “You look hot, dingus, please don’t make me say it again.” 

Steve stares at himself in the mirror. He has on his favorite pair of vintage stone-washed jeans, which not only make his ass look phenomenal but at least offer some comfort to contrast the outrageous shirt Robin has put him in. She’d taken her scissors and a perfectly good black t-shirt into her bedroom an hour ago and emerged with something that can hardly be called a shirt anymore with how many holes she’d created. Worse than the slash on his left pec that nearly shows his nipple is the fact that she’d cropped it so that there’s a solid two inches of skin between his waistband and the frayed bottom. His happy trail is on full display, and Steve wants to scream that he’s a father and he shouldn’t dress like this, except he’s going to see Eddie. Rockstar Eddie. Who literally oozes sex appeal. Maybe Robin is right and Steve needs to step up his game.

He adds one last touch of hairspray to his hair and then admires Robin, who has somehow doused her space buns in glitter and is wearing electric blue eyeshadow. She’d been so thrilled to be invited (“VIP tickets, Steven! V. I. P. That means Eddie thinks you’re very important.”) and her enthusiasm had washed away the nerves that had haunted him since yesterday. He’s still not sure he can do this. Let Eddie see him out of his professional comfort zone. But he’s determined to try. Something about Eddie keeps tugging at him, and he wants more. He wants in a way he hasn’t let himself want for a long time now. 

He’s startled out of his thoughts by Robin grabbing his jaw in one hand and turning him toward her. “Finishing touch! Close your eyes.” He halfheartedly splutters in protest but lets her smudge eyeliner near his lashes. “There we go, all done.” 

He looks at them both in the mirror, side by side. They look young again, and it’s ridiculous, but he feels young again. He wants to say something, to tell her how much it means to him that she’s coming with him, that she’s supported him for so many years and pushed him to do this, but he settles for a kiss to the top of her head. He knows she understands. She always does. 

“Let’s go, I’m driving.”

Steve makes a point of not coming into Caesars when he’s not working. But this evening as he and Robin join the crowd flowing into the venue, he feels like one of a million other tourists and he’s caught up in the excitement of it all. Vegas at its core, all flashy showmanship and delight.

They make their way to the VIP section, at the front and slightly to the left of the stage. Robin disappears to grab drinks and Steve soaks everything in. He can feel eyes on him, dressed as he is and elevated above the crowd, and lets himself relish the attention. He wonders if this is how Eddie feels all the time and then banishes the thought before his head can get any bigger. 

Robin comes back with a gin and tonic and a shot of tequila each, and he scolds her for mixing alcohols but takes the shot anyway, sips on his drink while the lights go down and the opener comes on.

The music is rougher than his taste, but he’s heard far worse. Robin is already dancing beside him, arms flailing, completely unembarrassed. He settles for just nodding his head to the beat, feeling the heavy drums flow through him. When the opener finishes, he heads to the bar to get their next round. By the time he finally gets back through the crowd, the lights are dimming and the audience is chanting “Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

Robin turns to him, eyes huge with excitement. Steve hands her a tequila shot. “Bottom’s up,” he mouths and downs his own. As the lights start flashing and smoke billows off the stage, Steve feels like his heart is going to pound out of his chest. He grabs Robin’s hand to anchor himself, and when she looks at him, grinning, he can’t help but grin back. 

Suddenly there’s an eruption of yelling and whistles and Steve looks up to see Eddie striding on to the stage. With how close their seats are, Eddie looks larger than life, his normally substantial presence magnified tenfold so that his energy fills not just the stage but the whole venue. He’s wearing tight black pants that flare over platform boots and a fringed leather vest that shows off his tattooed chest. His hair is wild and mussed, and Steve can’t help but imagine running his fingers through it, wondering if Eddie would like it if he pulled. 

Steve isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol or just Eddie, but he’s flying, blood buzzing in his veins. As Eddie strums the opening note on his guitar, Steve feels it in his bones, as if Eddie is stroking over his ribcage. When Eddie starts singing, Steve feels like Eddie is singing just to him. 

His hypnosis doesn’t break until the end of the first song, when Eddie yells into the microphone, “Hello, Vegas!” Steve, Robin, and the whole crowd yell back in unison, “Hello, Eddie!” Eddie is all charm, graciously introducing his bandmates before beginning the opening notes of the next song. Right before he starts singing, Eddie’s eyes sweep to where Steve and Robin are standing. He meets Steve’s gaze and shoots him a wink. Steve must be having an out of body experience because he blows a kiss, which Eddie catches smoothly, miming putting it in his back pocket. 

Steve belatedly realizes that Robin is staring at him like he grew a second head. He mock-glares at her and mouths “shut up.” She raises her hands in surrender but he still hears her say under her breath, “ok dingus, get in there.” 

The rest of Corroded Coffin’s set passes in a blur. Steve finds himself dancing, letting himself match Robin’s wild movements. He’s sweaty, and smiling, and between each song he and Eddie exchange heated glances that are setting him on fire. By the time Eddie and the band are wrapping up their last encore, walking off stage to the echoes of “good night, Las Vegas!” Steve’s ears are ringing and he’s so dazed it takes Robin three tries to get his attention.

He turns to face her and sees his own wild energy reflected back at him. Grinning, she grabs his hand and pulls him toward the wings, brandishing her backstage pass at security like it’s a police badge. 

They’re led into a small waiting room where a tiny red-haired woman is talking rapid-fire into a cell phone, staring down at a clipboard. She hangs up when she notices them, and stretches out her hand. “Hi, I’m Chrissy, Corroded Coffin’s manager. You must be Steve, and this is…?”

Steve nods and shakes her hand. He waits for Robin to introduce herself but she’s just standing there dumbfounded, like she’s been struck by lightning. Steve raises his eyebrows at her but she doesn’t even notice him, fixated on Chrissy. Steve suppresses a laugh and chimes in, “And this is my friend Robin.” 

Chrissy doesn’t miss the emphasis on friend, and her neutral expression softens to warmth. “Robin, it’s a pleasure.” Chrissy touches Robin’s elbow gently and Steve swears he hears Robin squeak but his attention is interrupted as Eddie barrels into the room. He stops short, just inside the doorway and stares, open-mouthed at Steve. Steve stares back, all the buildup while Eddie was on stage making electricity arc between them. 

Steve hesitantly takes a step forward, unconsciously reaching out, wanting to touch. Eddie comes to meet him and suddenly they’re face to face, so close Steve can see the sweat on Eddie’s brow and the stubble on his chin. He wants to lick both, and he’s not nearly clear headed enough to prevent himself from leaning in. Eddie stops him with a gentle hand to his jaw, tracing down his neck, shoulder, and arm, fingertips grazing lightly across Steve’s bare skin. Steve shivers under the scrutiny until Eddie takes his hand and pulls Steve down the hall and into his dressing room. 

As soon as they’re inside, Eddie has Steve pushed against the closed door, one thigh pressed between Steve’s. Their chests are touching, breathing hard, and Steve relishes how Eddie inhales his exhales, taking a piece of Steve inside himself. Eddie leans in and traces his nose along Steve’s cheek and jaw. His hands rise to grip Steve’s waist, pulling him closer even as he uses his body to pin Steve firmly against the door. 

“You came,” Eddie murmurs, lips against Steve’s ear. He bites Steve’s earlobe softly and Steve tries not to embarrass himself by whimpering. 

“Yes, yes of course I came, I wouldn’t miss–” Steve cuts himself off with a breathless whine as Eddie’s mouth moves lower, to Steve’s neck and collarbones. His hands pet lightly over Steve’s exposed stomach. 

“What are you wearing, sugar?” Eddie gives Steve no time to answer, instead moving his hands up Steve’s chest, gently touching where his skin peeks through each hole that Robin had cut into his shirt. Steve is burning, he can’t think, can’t do anything but feel, every place Eddie touches a live nerve. “Are you trying to kill me,” Eddie groans, bending to suck a hickey on Steve’s exposed chest. 

Steve finally allows himself to touch, tracing the smooth plane of Eddie’s lower back and then the rough leather of his vest before finally burying his hands in Eddie’s mane of tangled hair. A sense of belonging settles deep in his belly, and he forces his frazzled mind to respond. “It’s you who’s killing me, baby.” Eddie’s breath hitches at the pet name. “You have no idea how hot you look on stage, had me hard in my jeans for hours.” He punctuates this with a slight roll of his hips so that Eddie can feel Steve against his thigh, can know what he’s doing to him. Eddie presses him even harder against the door, until Steve can feel an answering bulge. 

Eddie pulls back slightly to look Steve in the eye. His lips are spit-slick and Steve needs to kiss him, to taste him. He crashes their mouths together and the kiss is inelegant but delicious with desperation. Steve takes the lead, licking deep into Eddie’s mouth, and Eddie lets him, pulls him even closer. Steve succumbs to his earlier fantasy and tugs slightly on Eddie’s hair, delighted when he moans in response. Steve is fully hard now, and as the kiss gets increasingly desperate he decides he’s not above begging.

He manages to extricate himself briefly to get out, “Eddie, please.” Eddie makes a low noise in the back of his throat and slides his hands down to grab at Steve’s ass. Steve is nearly riding Eddie’s thigh, the friction an exquisite torture. “Please, baby, Eddie, please,” he begs again. With one last squeeze to Steve’s ass, Eddie pulls back and licks a long stripe up Steve’s neck, tracing the tendon there. 

“Shh, I’ll give you what you need, sweetheart, don’t worry,” he whispers in Steve’s ear. “But not here. I want you in my bed.” He leans in for one more kiss before pulling away, and Steve whines at the loss. “Come on, sugar, let’s get you somewhere comfortable. I want to take my time with you.” Steve nods, dumbly, unsure how Eddie is able to get full sentences out. After a few minutes of hopelessly trying to get themselves under control, Eddie gives up and pushes Steve out the door they came in. 

They make their way back through the waiting area of the green room, where they almost fail to notice Chrissy and Robin curled up together on the couch, deep in conversation. Eddie, who somehow seems to have his wits about him, leans over to have a low conversation with Chrissy while Steve just stares wide-eyed at Robin. He’s immensely grateful in that moment that they’ve known each other so long as to be able to communicate without words, because his horned up brain manages to comprehend that Robin is fine, that she’s taking Chrissy back to her apartment, and that Steve should go have fun. 

Eddie joins him again, and pulls Steve out of the green room and into the main area of the venue. “We have my suite all to ourselves tonight, Stevie.” Steve just presses himself closer to Eddie, loathe to leave any room between them. 

“Steve, I…” Eddie trails off. “I’m sorry about this, but we have to be careful. Going through the lobby.” Steve tries to get his brain back online, to match the gravity of Eddie’s sudden tone change, but he’s fuzzy with anticipation and alcohol. Eddie tries again, “We have to separate for a bit, sugar. I’ll meet you by the elevators and then we’ll go up together. Do you understand me?” Steve tries to nod, to communicate that he’ll do anything Eddie says, but Eddie is insistent. “I need a verbal confirmation, okay?” 

“Yes,” Steve manages to get out. “I’ll meet you by the elevators.” 

Eddie kisses his forehead, and then lightly pushes him forward. “Go first, I’ll follow.” 

Steve makes his way through the lobby, already missing Eddie’s presence. He feels floaty, giddy with excitement, his lust taking a backseat to the pure joy of getting to spend more time with Eddie, to the anticipation and delight of learning a new partner, of finding a rhythm. He presses the “up” button at the elevator bank and has to wait only a moment before Eddie is beside him again and they’re stepping into the elevator. 

Eddie presses the button for 14, and the doors have barely closed before Steve is on him again, kissing him as if it had been five days and not five minutes. This time he has Eddie pressed against the wall, and he uses his leverage to grind unashamedly, reveling in the pleasurable ache and the way he can feel Eddie’s returning hardness. When the doors finally ding open, they’re both flushed and breathless. 

Steve follows Eddie down the hall and into the suite where he stops short. “Holy shit, this is where you live?”

Eddie shrugs and makes a casual gesture as if to say, what? this? before he captures Steve’s lips in another searing kiss. They get lost in it for a long moment, tangled in each other, before Eddie pulls back to demand, “Bed. Now.” He manhandles Steve into one of the bedrooms, chasing him forward until the back of Steve’s knees hit the bed. Steve waits for Eddie to push him down, but Eddie steps back. Looks Steve up and down. 

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs. “You’re gorgeous, sugar. Make me want to ruin you.” 

Steve holds Eddie’s gaze as he slowly strips off his shirt. Traces one hand down his own stomach toward the fly of his jeans and watches as Eddie bites his lip. Undoes the button and pulls the zipper down. He starts to push his jeans down his hips when suddenly Eddie moves to kneel before him, covering Steve’s hands with his own. Eddie tugs off his jeans, and then mouths at Steve’s cloth-covered cock. 

“Shit, baby,” Steve groans. He runs one hand over Eddie’s cheek as Eddie soaks his boxers in spit. He’s fully hard now and throbbing and if Eddie doesn’t do something he’s going to come in his underwear like a teenager. “Eddie, please,” he begs. Eddie takes pity on him and pulls Steve out of his boxers and licks him from root to tip.

“Big boy, indeed” he says with a wink, before taking Steve in his mouth. The pleasure is overwhelming, and Steve tries and fails to keep himself from fucking forward into that wet heat. Eddie’s grip tightens on his hips, holding him in place while he moves his mouth up and down, swirling his tongue, drawing moan after moan from deep in Steve’s chest.

Steve feels himself barreling toward the edge, and it’s far too soon, he wants more. “Close, Eds, I’m close,” he bites out, and tries to pull back. Eddie holds him firm, taking him down to the root one more time before letting go with a pop. 

“Get on the bed,” he tells Steve, voice gravelly. Steve obeys, shimmying fully out of his boxers and jeans and all but throwing himself down on the duvet. Steve hears a drawer open and close and then Eddie is behind him, pulling Steve’s hips up and pushing his knees forward so that Steve is prone and exposed. He feels Eddie’s lubed fingers skim over his entrance before one gently pushes in. Eddie fingers him open carefully, smoothing one hand down Steve’s heaving ribs while adding a second and then a third finger. 

“Eddie,” Steve can’t help but whine. “I’m ready, please, I’m ready.” Eddie pulls his fingers out and then takes a moment to roll a condom on and add more lube before positioning himself.

“Tell me how much you want this,” Eddie goads, rubbing the tip of his cock against Steve’s entrance. 

“I want it so bad, Eddie,” Steve whines. “I want you, please, please fuck me.” 

Steve hears Eddie groan “fuck” under his breath before he’s pushing in, and Steve is lost in the pleasure-pain of being stretched. Eddie bottoms out and then stays there, letting Steve adjust. As he starts to slowly pull out again, Steve lets out a low whine. Eddie moves faster and faster, punching obscene noises out of Steve with each thrust. Steve feels his pleasure build, and he’s helpless to stop it as Eddie drags his cock against Steve’s sweet spot over and over. 

Steve belatedly realizes that Eddie is talking to him, murmuring filth under his breath. “You take me so well, Stevie, you feel so good. Yeah, baby, you like that cock in you, filling you up. You’re so good for me.” Steve just takes it, moaning in agreement. As he feels himself get closer and closer to the brink, Eddie suddenly pulls him up so that they’re both kneeling on the bed, Eddie’s chest pressed against Steve’s back. Steve leans his head on Eddie’s shoulder, nuzzling into his neck. Eddie wraps one arm around Steve’s chest and the other around his cock as he leans forward to slot his mouth against Steve’s. They kiss sloppily, Eddie pounding into Steve, pushing him to fuck his fist. 

Steve feels his orgasm approaching and manages to whisper, “Eddie, I’m going to come, please can I come.” He holds off only until he hears Eddie affirm, “come for me, sugar,” and then he whites out, overcome with pleasure.

When he comes to, he’s laying on his side, Eddie curled around him. He turns so they’re facing each other, and kisses Eddie on the nose. Eddie’s eyes are closed, and Steve briefly worries that he’d been too selfish. “Hi,” he murmurs. “Was that good? Did you come? ”

Eddie’s eyes open to meet Steve’s, and there’s so much warmth and joy in them that Steve is immediately put at ease. “Hi Stevie, welcome back” he says. “You were so good, love. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life.” Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve sweetly, lazily, like they have all the time in the world. Steve falls asleep, safe and secure in Eddie’s arms, thinking that maybe they do.

—

Steve jolts back into consciousness abruptly, cringing as the morning light hits his eyes. For a brief moment he’s disoriented, confused as to where he is and why he’s sweltering hot, but he settles down as last night’s events come back. Eddie is a furnace behind him and Steve extricates himself from the tangle of limbs and sheets and goes to use the bathroom. On the way back, he grabs his phone, startled to see four missed calls and over a dozen text messages. Confused, Steve opens his message app to read a series of frantic texts from Robin.

Robin: Steve. Holy shit.

Robin: Steve, I need you to pick up the phone.

Robin: I’m sure you’re having the fuck of your life, dingus, but you really, really need to check your phone.

These are followed by a photograph of two men in an elevator. It’s backlit and somewhat blurry, but Eddie’s face is unmistakable, as is his look of naked want. With a jolt, Steve realizes that the other man in the photo is himself, from earlier that night. Robin had texted the photo with a link to a tabloid article titled, “MUNSON TAKES HOME MYSTERY MAN AFTER CONCERT.”

He quickly checks the rest of his messages, and realizes there are several from Nancy and, even worse, one from Max. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Unthinking, he grabs his clothes from the hotel room floor and bolts.

--

continue to part 5.

read on ao3.

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[sinistershepherd]

Post-fire? How are they (sillies) doin'? :] Awful? talkin to each other? All of the above and more? (/j) Is it like,, basically the DLC daycare part or do you think ab it differently? :0

I see it a bit differently. With Afton’s final defeat comes Moon’s freedom from the virus, and thusly that would enable him to speak with Sun as himself again, without the influence of the virus.

They would talk a lot about what changed and if any of Moon’s actions were actually his own- some of this may spark arguments, while other parts will bring understanding. For the most part, it’s just tense and awkward.

However, the fire would change more than just their outlook on each other. It would put into perspective that, technically, they can die. This would only further their anxiety and would most likely push them closer together.

I don’t really see Eclipse as their conjoined selves, and I don’t believe that someone as soft and gentle would come of them combining into one being. While the idea of Eclipse is nice, I just can’t imagine him as the middle ground without wanting to understand how he came to be the mediator, of sorts.

What if it’s a facade?

What if he only acts nice around kids?

What if Sun and Moon can’t interact with him, so he’s basically a wild card?

…what if he’s lonely?

[idiot-sl-oth]

SHAKE YOU. I have a Moon wip !! :]

Hehehe I love making eye designs and freckle designs!! I didn't wanna leave the void part of his face just.. pitch black so I added star / constellation freckles!!

Also also Sorry I haven't been adding to Angsty Tuesday !! I've been busy with band things, BUT I've dropped out so I should be more free! (Also I don't want to overwhelm with SO MANY PROMPTS CRIES)

[anendtopursuit]

if i'm extra depressing for the next 3 days or so it's because i ran out of testosterone and can't get a refill until monday :))))))))) agony

[jupitercl0uds]

FINALLY FINISHED CHAPTER 2!!!!!!!

[captainderyn]

1. It's not too late, let's go." [Fictober '23]

I said I was going to be late to the party :)) but I have a lovely block of writing time at least one or twice a week with this new job, so I figured why not give it a little try (plus @tiredassmage enabled me so hard with the idea of Agenttober that I couldn't at least put something out :P)

Day: 1

Fandom: SWTOR (pre Imp Agent story)

Genre: Fanfiction

Warnings: None

Summary: It was always supposed to be the three of them, the dream team: Roslynd, Rhys, and Valetyn. They were supposed to stick together, become cipher agents together. A training accident derails all their plans, leaving Roslynd feeling lost and dreading their last day together at the celebration that was supposed to be the best day of their budding careers.

Read Full Fic on AO3

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A year’s worth of stress, blood, sweat, and tears released across the graduation pavilion in thrumming music and strobing lights. Newly minted Imperial Intelligence professionals, strung so tightly after walking the tightrope of success and failure, let out everything they’d been holding within themselves. 

It was a night to be remembered, or, more than likely, filtered through a hangover stupor the next morning, filtering fact from fiction through a raging headache. 

Sipping at her fruity drink, which Roslynd had told the bartender to make extra strong, Roslynd couldn’t find it within herself to muster the same excitement. No, it wasn’t the cautious anticipation that knotted in her stomach. It was dread. It was guilt. It was something gross and bleak, and miserable. 

The countdown set for this night, the one she’d tick down every morning as she’d unwound her curlers from her hair, had stopped a month ago. Ever since she’d stumbled back into her room, clumsy on crutches, it’d laid face down on her desk where she’d slammed it down in a fit of tears. 

“I wish you were coming with us.” Valetyn’s touch was feather light on her shoulder before one arm went around her waist. She leaned back against his chest, brushing against the silk of his shirt. Her gut twisted again; the rich purple of his shirt, the purple sheen of her dress and matching earrings, Rhys’ violently violet tie, all chosen to match when they’d been certain all three of them would be getting on the transport to some backwater planet tomorrow. 

Back when they’d been certain their trio would be moving on as one.