#but my brain has been so meh lately

[sharkylass]

Man, I need to post more of my unfinished stuff cause I haven't been able to finish anything lately. ANYWAY, PICO UPDATE PICO UPDATE LET'S FUCKING GO!!!!! I am being so well fed right now holy shit. The music for me is either a super hit or kinda meh, BUT WHEN IT HITS- OOOO BOY- I don't know if it's just the Pico tracks, or the way the fnf team has started to do their music, BUT THE EXTRA LITTLE SOUNDS IN THERE?? LIKE THE EAGEL IN PHILLY (pico mix)?? THE BURPING, THE UGHS IN THE UGH PICO MIX- IT SCRATCHES MY BRAIN SO GOOD-

I'm just gonna link my favorite tracks for fun hehehe

It's such a shame for me that my fave victory song is the "Good" one, cause I almost always get excellents or perfects (Only Nightmare Spookeez evades me AND THAT ONE IS A BF TRACK-)

Suffering from success truly.

[mourningsbane]

Okay this blog and the story has been circulating slowly in my head for days now and I feel like tossing out a theory because I never theorize but here I am

So. Tanglefern’s greatest mistake. I believe that he may have poisoned Honeyspring in some way. If not a direct poisoning, he was at the very least aware of and partially involved in Honeyspring’s rapid death. But I also think he was not aware she was pregnant. I do not know if the kits were not quite right because they were too early in development, some kind of curse stuff, or because of the poison/illness. Either way, it seems Tanglefern wished them no ill will due to the intense despair he felt when the crude surgery (is it surgery if on a corpse?) failed. Another note; I’m not fully sure Tanglefern meant for/wanted them to die. ‘There’s nothing more I can do for you’. And it seems very heavily implied that Rootstar ordered the c-section, which is where the ‘no respect for the dead!’ Line comes in from Bearface. Along with this, I’m like 99% sure Honeyspring and Flaildrizzle were in a romantic relationship and were planning to raise those kits together. Honeyspring looked so soft in her dream, maybe they were trying to look less spooky as to not scare Flaildrizzle?

I do not believe Honeyspring is ‘evil’. She is scared and oh so alone, and is lashing out because of it. She just wants help, as I believe that is what the messed up mouse is huffing at Tanglefern, and potentially Sweetkit too. Tanglefern even wonders why StarClan won’t take them, implying that in life she never did anything evil enough to warrant going to kitty cat hell. At least, not that Tanglefern would know. And, seeing how their mere presence is warping the prey, I think she could have killed Sweetkit if she wanted, but they didn’t.

A very out-there theory is that Honeyspring may have been kept from StarClan because of the rage fuelling the end of her life (towards Tanglefern?). In my opinion, she seems aware that her death wasn’t natural. Their first headshot reference says ‘I will never forgive you’ which I believe is specifically aimed at whoever orchestrated or at least played a part in her death. Her second reference says kind with a question mark in brackets, which means they were at the very least kind in life. Not being able to communicate with anyone, those who see her being terrified, not being allowed into StarClan, they must all tear at their mind and likely their overall stability. I honestly don’t think she’s as malicious as we seem to be getting led to believe.

This may also be me grasping at straws but with the ‘there’s something underneath the ground’ and the description of her disease-reeking blood seeping into the dirt floor I wonder if that’s something. Definitely not I’m reaching but meh it’s fun.

Finally, I’m not fully sure that, whatever Tanglefern’s involvement was, he intended for them to die. ‘Distantly, some raw part of him, carbed open like the body before him, realized it was all for nothing’ now while it’s likely this is just in reference to the c-section, I feel this could also be the fact Honeyspring died and may not have been meant to. There was some kind of plan, I’m just not sure what it was’

Basically a summary I believe Tanglefern had an influence in Honeyspring’s sudden demise but was not aware of the kits, Bearface was NOT happy about the c-section, Flaildrizzle and Honeyspring were a couple and going to raise those kits, Honeyspring wasn’t evil in life but is now losing stability due to being so isolated, and Tanglefern may not have intended Honeyspring to die. I may be super off I am not good at theories and it is very late. But hey. All in good fun.

Anyways giving Honeyspring a big hug I love them and she is spinning around in my brain like a rotisserie chicken 24/7

also omg sorry this got so long i got lowkey rambly here but my brain is going whir because oh my god this is so cool-

Worry not, I do not mind receiving long post! I, too, tend to get rambly when talking about things, so I certainly don't blame you. Plus, I love reading theories! It gives me insight into what people think, and I don't want any lore elements to feel like they came out of nowhere! <3

As for your theories, you are very close! Tanglefern gave Honeyspring Mourningsbane instead of Clottingroot when treating the injury on her hind leg.

Honeyspring and Flaildrizzle were mates, and you're right that Honeyspring tried to look "softer". The time is soon, and Honeyspring didn't want to startle her. Honeyspring is weak and intangible at the moment, but not for long. And you're on the right track with her "disease-reeking blood seeping into the dirt floor"; her rotting body taints the very soil.

I agree that Honeyspring is not a villain in the stereotypical sense! She was very well-liked in life, and had a lot going for her! I would say that she's both a victim and a perpetrator.

[debradog]

K2 ghost Kenny AU

this has been in my head like forever I might draw more

now it’s too late, and every night I hear her in my head

begging me to join her with the dead, meh

to think about it’s so strange, I hear her singing my name

Vera Lee is haunting my brain, I HEAR HER IN THE RAIN

[averagecontentenjoyer121]

This is the first chapter of my take on the Epic Musical story :D The main idea of a banished Athena story being inspired by Coqeuxari.

I hope whoever reads this enjoys it as this is really the first narrative writing I’ve done for myself, so I can put all my writing effort into it.

Feel free to talk about in the comments whether you liked it or not and why that is. Also I have ideas for the entire story I just have to flesh it out so if you want to ask anything about the story go ahead and I’ll try answer unless if it’ll spoil any surprises I want to add

Decided to post this directly here for right now as I had a AO3 account but forgot the password so I have to make a new one.

Anyways

One war

One decision

One Man’s desire

Chapter 1: Troy

During the late hours following the Greeks retreat from Troy its citizen came forth. Stepping out of gates for the first time in ten years was a strange feeling to these men and women. As they exited a strange sight lay before them. A construct of grandeur, of worship, of deceit. They gazed upon the giant brutian horse at its feet resided a being in a drunken stupor. Sinon proclaims the being as its consciousness breaches the blockade of alcohol surrounding his brain. He slurs his words into a barely understandable statement, “Da rest ov a men eft me ear o ells yeahs dis orse is to orgive oos for da estruction of yeas atue ta atena.”

“Good sir care to repeat what you’ve said.”

“Ifa’s ant oondand meh den ja shupid.’

“Appears the god of wine kissed his lips sir.”

“Clearly, perhaps whatever he’s said could be true?”

“I dunno sir, we’s can’t understand a word he’s said.”

“Get the prophet. If he can read the stars then surely he can read the contorted mouth of this man.” A man is usher forward by the crowd. Still bitter from the death of his child by the Greeks, he begrudgingly kneels before the man who’s liver had been battered as if punctured by acid. “A izah guy dat Ager megnom iled ah kyled ov. Erphaps oos ain’t ain amaged,” the man repeated the phrases that he told the other men in the crowd through breath that suggested his insides smelt only of fermented grapes. “ The Greeks have left this equine as a peace offering. It is meant to replace the statue of Athena they’ve decimated.” The crowd of men responds with an inconsistent mermer of, “ I knew that’s what he was saying.”

As the victors drudge the pine stallion inside their walls that repelled all attacks the Greek threw will now be the prison of 4000 men, women, and children. As twilight encroached upon the land the noise of praise, feast, dance, and victory filled the coffin. Inside the horse sat the Greeks finest executioners. The 10 year drag left them desperate enough to sit within the humid and damp body of the wooden structure in a ploy to inter the city and break out allowing for a festive slaughter. This disparate act was conjured by the very goddess whom claimed to value the Trojan no more than 12 hours ago.

However atop to mount in the throne room of the great olympians a pitiful scene unfolded. “Father!” Roared Ares whilst clutching his bleeding side as golden droplets fell to the floor, “Can’t you see? That pompous child of a step sister whom I share dominion with has caused a mortal to injure me! By her hand through his, she punctured my flesh! She must be cast down for overstepping your declarations! No god is to have involvement within this war, is that not what you’ve said!” Ares lashed about whilst spitting and hissing these words.

“Correct my adulterine brother,” snarled Athena through her beaked lips, “how strange, you enter the palace exclaiming woes of which you blame me. Yet you’ve overlooked the shortcomings within your plea. For how could you have been injured by a mortal partaking in the war without being a part of it as well, or perhaps you were,” said Athena as a snide smirk etched itself upon her face. “ How dare you! I wouldn’t have had to fight your lousy champion if he hadn’t speared my dears hand as she attempted to save our child-“

“There you go again speaking without thought. You’ve now admitted to your wife having been part of the war too, uxoricide through stupidity-“

“How dare you feathered lout proclaim that I’ve harmed my dearest!” Ares shouted as if it were a war cry.

“Perhaps I could get you to come forth with the names of the rest of your posse. Would save me time having to present evidence,” laughed Athena. Ares stood his armor rattling with a rage encased within his godly flesh. The rage of all the fallen in hades. A rage that if released on a mortal or army would be more devastating than any split atom. He stood there in silence as Aphrodite rushed to him having sensed his peril of which she had never felt before. “ My great boar what ales you! What’ve you done you unrequited orinth,” hissed Aphrodite. “ Why not ask your doltish pig, of whom I’m sadly related.”

One word was spoken. One word with range like thunder. One word which held the force of the greatest storm. One word which was spoken from the one that the trio was annoying, “SILENCE!” Zeus thundered, “Daughter, who might the rest of the guilty be?”

“The children Leto father,” chirped Athena. “Thank you, I’ve heard enough of your insolent bickering. It was giving a headache equivalent to the one that birthed you,” said the now tired and defeated sounding Zeus, “ You all have crossed a line I clearly set. Of which the punishment Ares suggests is fitting until you’ve each proven that you deserve to reside within this palace, as currently I see three pups arguing over the corpse of a rat.” The trio stands there in silence as they accept what will happen to them next. “Hermes!”

“Yeah pops?”

“Inform the twins of Leto of my decree so that they don’t question why they’ve been stripped of divine power.”

“Alrighty,” Hermes exclaims cheerfully, seeing this only for its hilarity. He then zips through the archway leading into Olympus. Following soon after a bright golden light fills the throne room. Once the light fades only Athena remains, “why have you left me father?”

“I expected better from you Athena. You are my most prized offspring, and yet you’ve fallen to the same height as mortals. Perhaps if I gave a visit to your favorite human you’ll understand that we’re not like them.”

“ Father WAI-,” the same light surrounds Athena as she is cast from Olympus to the base of the former Greek camp.

(Now watch Horse and the Infant then just a man)

Odysseus approaches the camp ground he slept at two days ago before tonight, as he heads towards where Eurylochus had landed his ship. As he passes through the charred ground he can’t help but think back to what he’s done. Then suddenly a hand jets towards him. He unsheathes his blade and readies it to strike whoever was foolish enough to sneak up on him. Right before he strikes he sees the face of his mentor. Before he can stop Athena throws him over her shoulder out of reaction. Odysseus now puzzled and with a dirt covered cape asks Athena what she’s doing here. He then realizes that she looks different. Less feathers, and lacking her distinct beaked lips. Also, she’s now missing her giant owl wings. He moves to speak when Athena reaches out for his shoulder. As her hand makes contact he’s shocked to feel its warmth, its weight, its mortality. He shutters as he croaks on his words. Athena explains her situation to him after which Odysseus wraps an arm around her shoulders which are a head taller than him and says, “ You can ride with me and crew back to Ithaca! It’s the only right thing to do when your life long goddess friend is now mortal and now requires the same as me,” he smiles with the dorkish grin he wore when she first met him all those decades ago.

“ I. . . Uh saw what my father had made you do from here, do you wish to speak of it or. . .”

“Nope I’d rather move past that as soon as possible.”

“Alright little man,” she says while staring down at Odysseus who’s 3 feet shorter than she is.

“Aight Atty,” Odysseus says through a smile of a kid annoying his mother.

“I thought you agreed never to say that again,” she says, scowling at him.

“And clearly I’m no little man anymore.”

“Hard to tell from up here,” she says smiling as they approach the bow of Odysseus’ ship.

Odysseus boards the ship followed by the giantess which caused confusion among the men on the ships until Odysseus interjected that she was an Amazonian warrior who he’d been friends with for years now. Eurylochus Examined her, unsure of her presence being Odysseus’ right hand. Polities ran up to Athena grasping her hand and eagerly shaking it, “ I’m so happy to meet you, any friend of my best buddy Odysseus is a friend to me,” polities said with a somehow even more dorkish smile surrounded by the stubble of a beard, as his head band covered his forehead.

POV: how it feels to post 1500 words of a fan story

[amoreva]

SPIDERS AND THREAD

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pairing: racetrack higgins x reader

summary: race has been flaking on dates more and more. you think he’s cheating until he shows up bloody, bruises and in a hero costume, one evening.

warnings: blood, cursing, description of stitching

a/n: ending is a little meh and i couldn’t think of a title. i’ll try to revise it later.

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Race is rushing to your table from the restaurant, tugging on his jacket in a hurry. Your head titled in slight confusion.

“Race…?”

Race snapped his head towards you. The apology written all over his face masking the urgency. “My uh…mom called.” Race explained hurriedly. “She—fell down the stairs and I gotta go to—”

He’s been doing this often, but you shouldn’t throw out accusations. Just be a supportive girlfriend. “Hey, hey—I get it. Make sure she’s okay.” You spoke sympathetically. Your hand on his arm rubbing it comfortingly.

Race gave you a weary smile. He hates leaving you early on dates especially when you look so pretty in your outfit. He felt terribly guilty. You got dolled up for him and he had to go…

“I love you.” Race kissed you quickly and ran out of the restaurant.

Does he though?

You’re sitting at your desk, mindlessly moving the swivel chair side to side. Thoughts running through your head. The events of the day replaying itself out. You were supposed to be studying for your test, but…you can’t help but think about the date.

It’s not the first time Race ended a date early because something important came up. The first time it happened was because Albert was throwing up a lot. Then it was Jack needed him ASAP for a project and so on.

You’ve seen this happen to one of your friends; literally watched the events unfold before you. Your friend’s girlfriend kept canceling dates or leaving earlier because of something that came up. Turns out the girl was hooking up with some other guy behind your friend’s back.

Race wouldn’t do that, right? The sweet, charming guy that brings you little trinkets that remind him of you? No way in hell would Race cheat.

You scoffed just thinking about Race hooking up with another person. So, you rationalized these thoughts, it was late and you were thinking about this too much, overthinking it. Your mind is just making up stuff to keep you awake to study for your exam next week. That’s right.

Suddenly, a quiet creaking from your window grabbed your attention. Your curtains had been closed since you’ve got home from the spoiled date. You grab the nearest blunt object to throw. The dark figure on the other side of the window, slid it open.

A soft groan escaped the figure. It never occurred to you it could be your roommate. Your sleep-deprived, adrenaline filled brain screamed at you, “Robber, thief, murderer, stranger danger—!”

So, you threw your blunt object as soon as you caught sight of a head. A small yelp escaped your lips. You prayed to whoever you wouldn’t die tonight. You haven’t even finished re-watching Superstore yet.

The figure tumbled into your apartment, catching the object without even looking. “Get out, get out, get out!” You shouted and threw one of your textbooks at the person like they were a bug on the walls.

The figure caught it again and quickly put their free hand up. “Hey, hey! I’m not going to hurt ya’!” The figure stated quickly as they saw you holding a second book. “Please, stop throwing things.” You shrunk behind the book you held like a scared child.

“Who—?” You asked nervously. Intricate details of webs on the costume. Red and blue colors. A spider sewn onto the chest. It is a dead give-away. One of their hands was pressed against his abdomen. Blood oozing out, soiling their costume. Holy fuck. Why was Spiderman in your room? How did he even get here? Did he just stumble upon your apartment? Oh god, and he is hurt.

“What—?” Before you can even ask a question, Spiderman tugged off his mask. Soft blonde curls damp with sweat. Blue eyes filled with exhaustion and affliction. A sheepish smile on his lips.

“Suprise.” Race said dryly.

He thought it’d be better for you to know now instead of later and…he doesn’t think he can catch another book.

“Oh my god—Race!” You launch out of your desk chair to the blonde. Panic running through your veins, your hands cupping his face like he’s fragile. Then it clicks, you realize it isn’t anyone’s blood and wounds, it is Race’s. Race is hurt—how can he just…how?

Your boyfriend. The man who can’t stand spiders, especially daddy long legs, is Spiderman. Spiderman. The fucking vigilante swinging around New York. Is this why he ends dates early? Because he is Spiderman?

You don’t want to believe it, but Race is right here in front of you. Your blue-eyed lover subconsciously leaned into your warm touch. “M’okay.” Race mumbled and kissed the palm of your hand. The comfort of your touch distracting him from the pain. “Just…need your help patching up.”

You went into overdrive. The information you learned was overwhelming. How long has he been doing this? How bad are his injuries? Will he be okay? There are so many risks to this. Spiderman? How can he do what he does?

Your hands were too afraid to touch his upper body as you looked over him. “God…oh—how did..? You’re bleeding a lot…and you look so tired and….how bad is—? I don’t know what to do—! Fuck…you’re bleeding a lot. That wound is huge and—”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Race grabbed your attention from your stupor with the nickname. “Calm down. I’ll walk you through everything. Can you help me to the bathroom?”

Your eyes soften, but his words don’t reassure you. “Mhm.” You pressed your lips together, the worry evident in your eyes as you helped Race to the bathroom. He leaned against the counter.

The first aid kit is under the sink. Race is peeling off the top half of his suit. A wince escaped him as the spandex stuck to his large gash. He ripped it away like a bandaid causing you to cringe. There is dried blood, sweat and dust all over his toned body—which you will not admit you stared at a little too long.

“I would’ve done this myself, but—it hurt to swing any more. I mean, it felt like my body was being torn apart.” He softly said, trying to decrease the situation on why he was here in this getup. A soft blush on his face. It is clear he still felt bad about earlier that evening.

Only a man like Race would blush when he has a gaping wound in his side. “I don’t need your excuses—I just need to help patch you up.” Your eyes hardening after you take a shaky exhale.

Questions and thoughts racing (hah.) your mind. Was this convenient or was this pity for earlier? This is kind of ridiculous—you were dating Spiderman. Race is Spiderman. He could’ve told you—said something so you wouldn’t think the worst of the worst. So you could help him from hurting himself further.

“Okay.” Race nodded slowly. He noticed your snappy comments. He masked the worry and guilt. “Douse a rag in rubbing alcohol and—gently clean my wound, please.”

Race walked you through the steps of how to clean a wound. Your boyfriend had bit into a rolled up hand towel to muffle his agony. Tears brimming his eyes at the stinging. Luckily, the bleeding stopped. It looked slightly less gross than it did before, and it was done quickly.

Your annoyance, anger dissipates for a moment. You look at your boyfriend who removed the hand towel from his mouth. “I—I don’t know how to stitch.”

Race nodded, his head glistening with sweat from the enduring the pain. “You know how to sew though. Just—sew.” He mumbled.

“Race…that—that’s not the same, I can’t just—why don’t we go to an actual hospital? They know better than you or I.” You tried to rationalize.

“Can’t.” Race shook his head, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. “I can’t—my blood work and genetics are fucked��please, sweetheart.”

Race begged softly. It seem the blood loss got to him. “I need you to do it. Please. I trust you. Please.”

You grabbed his hand, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. “Okay…” You say almost inaudibly. Race brings your hand to his lips, a silent thank you. Just like before, Race has a rag in his mouth. Hand gripping your shoulder. His eyes closed shut as your dominant hand delicately holding a needle. The other was on his side. Race shivered at your touch. “Don’t move to much, okay?”

Race hummed in agreement. You pressed the needle to one end of the wound and punctuate the flesh. Race’s hand gripped your shoulder tightly, muffled sounds of pain escape him. You try to get this done quickly. In and out, through and through.

And pull.

You watch the wound close up together seamlessly. It sealed like a piece of cloth and look up at your tired boyfriend. His head immediately falls on your shoulder. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He whispered and kissed your neck once or twice.

Your eyes soften. You take Race’s face in your hands and bring his head in front of you. Lip quivering now that you finished stitching up your boyfriend. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I—”

“Race, you’re Spiderman—and I didn’t know! You made me think—think that…” Your voice is shaky, overwhelmed with a number of emotions. Race is Spiderman—he could die at any point.“you were cheating—what if you didn’t come back from fighting a villain? I don’t want to go to a funeral. I can’t—not when it’s the love of my life.”

“Oh, Y/N…” Race hugged you tightly despite the pain blooming in his side. “I’m not going anywhere, or dying—god, I wouldn’t even think of cheating on you, y’know that?”

A few moments of silence.

“Help me.” He mumbled and put his arm over your shoulder. The two of you exit the bathroom. Race was doing a little bit better than before, but you still had to support his weight. You both sit on the bed, Race taking your hands.

“I wanted to tell you, more than anything in the world, but—” He paused. “But…I couldn’t let you get hurt or worse for knowing about me.”

His voice cracked slightly. “If—if you got killed because of me…I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I just—and what if you thought I was a freak. I—I can climb of walls for fucks sake and have a sixth sense—” All of the thoughts that kept him up at night spilling out.

“Race—you’re a superhero, shut up.” You stated bluntly. Sometimes Race just needed to hear things as is. You grabbed some joggers he left here and gave it to him. You were no longer anger or afraid, just tired. So tired.

A soft sight escaped you. “You’re tired, I’m tried—this conversation should be for tomorrow.”

Race’s lips parted slightly to retaliate, but a wave of exhaustion hits him. He changed into the grey joggers and got into your bed. You gravitate towards his body heat and bury your head into the crook of his neck. “My boyfriend is a goddamn superhero.” It sounded more in awe. You leaned up to kiss his lips. Race kissed back with a little more passion than intended. Race and you fall asleep in each others arms, knowing—

—at least for tonight, that everything will be okay.

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[mayapapaya33]

Knowledge and Power

I've been thinking about this for a while. They are in Vasselheim now, Is the Horn of Orcus ok? Has it been unsealed? Did someone manage to sneakily steal it when the solstice happened? I NEED TO KNOW MATTHEW!!! I'm mid episode 104. I know we have a lot going on right now, but Matt keeps dropping hints about what's happening elsewhere in the world, like Desirat being released from their prison, all of Vasselheim's dead rising, stuff like that. I need to know about the Horn! Come on Matt, give us a problem for Campaign 4! lol. It's great storytelling, fleshing out the reality that Bells Hells are one group of many fighting the good fight and a lot of shit is currently on fire right now. I've loved every bit of it.

The Horn of Orcus was also the first and most prominent time the concept of dangerous knowledge came up in the game. Not just in a "knowledge is power" way, but in that, by knowing the information you are giving power to something bad and opening yourself up to trouble, literally just by possessing the knowledge in your brain. It's such an interesting concept to explore in a magic setting. How knowledge and worship and power intertwine.

I myself am very anti-censorship Irl, but the very rare times it's justified in my opinion are for things like recipes for horrific biological or chemical weapons, stuff like that. That concept can be broadened in the context of magic, like in C2 when reading that book gave Beau and Caleb magic eye herpes lmfao. Usually I am very much on the freedom of information side of things, so Ludinus threatening to share information was a bit of a meh threat to me personally at first. While it would be very disruptive in the short term, and people may indeed kill each other over it, I do think historical truths should be freely disseminated, not hidden for fear that people are too stupid to handle it. (Even though people ARE often too stupid to handle it, we have a right to our own stupidity I feel).

What I'm wondering is if Ludinus is making a subtler play than they are imagining. Yes divide and conquer is a good tactic, and that information will help him get people disagreeing. But more than that, shaking the faith of mass swathes of people all at once CAN'T be good for a Godly constitution. I don't think it's just about swaying people to his cause, I think he's trying to strategically weaken the God's power base before the big throw down with Predathos. Kind of like what Vecna did/ tried to do in late C1. So stopping Ludinus from sharing this information might end up being VERY important in the grand scheme of things.

Yes people already knew the Gods destroyed Aeor, and I think it was even known that the Primes and Betrayers formed a temporary truce to handle the threat. But knowing that information academically and seeing it firsthand are two VERY different things. Seeing the Primes care about and bicker with the Betrayers like... well...siblings, may come as a slap in the face to the truly devout. Also how many people actually knew that about Aeor or that Aeor even existed? Not everyone is proficient in history nor religious studies. Not to drag this too much into the real world, but how many religious people actually read whatever book they claim faith in cover to cover and know the whole history of it? It's definitely not all of them lol.

I bet there's plenty of religious people in Exandria that don't know shit about Aeor. Most people in Vasselheim probably would, because that place is THE God city on Exandria and survived the Calamity, but everywhere else? Unless they were specifically interested in religious history, why would they know it? So the reveal has the potential to be very impactful still, both for it's visceral feeling in exposing a peak into the God's relationships, and their deeds, and it will still be new info for some.

[her-power]

Last Chance to Dance (Part Five: Rockstar! e.m x fem reader)

🚨🛑🔞18+++ MINORS DNI - YOU WILL BLOCKED🚨🛑🔞 TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING (For entire series): Rockstar! Addict! Sweet! Mean! Eddie, smut, unprotected p+v, fluff, fingering (f receiving), masturbation, oral (m+f receiving), heavy drug use, descriptions of IV drug use, swearing, talks of anxiety, panic disorder, mental illness, talks of suicide

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Last Chance to Dance Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

A/N: I'm baaaaaaack. I'm feeling so much better. My son is getting better, and he's still his same goofy one year old self. This ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but the final part will be Part Six! I think you're going to like how I end it. My next series is still brewing in my nogging right now, and I have a few one shot ideas. ALSO, the next series will be a surprise release. What's the theme? You may wonder. Well...I don't know yet! Lmao. I'm just gonna go with the flow, and let my fingers do the talking. (That sounds a little dirty, right? Meh. The dirtier the better!) The series might be based off of a sequence of dreams I have been having of our precious Eddie Munson/Joseph Quinn. I just have to figure out what the fuck they mean. Anyways, I love you all. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I also didn't proof read this, again, I let my fingers do the talking. ;)

Summary: Full Summary on Part One

Word Count: 7.4k

Seven months ago… It was a busy day at the hospital; it was so short staffed they had to call you down from oncology to fill in in the ICU. You were straddling a young man on a gurney who had come in with an overdose, doing chest compressions as they wheeled him into the room. He wasn’t responsive, he still had a pulse, but there was no reaction to his pupils or muscle movement. You knew he was likely brain dead; he had been unconscious for twenty minutes before he was found. It didn’t take much time for your brain to die out when there wasn’t any oxygen. You hopped off his gurney, another nurse took over with compressions because you were getting tired; the doctor on call had given him more Narcan, but then he started to code. They attempted to shock his heart two times before they called it. He was only twenty, another young life lost. 

You had gone outside for a break; you barely smoked cigarettes anymore but today was one of those days where you were really craving the nicotine. It was a warm day, summer was around the corner, but you could never shake the chills you had when a patient dies. You only had an hour left of your shift, and then you could go home, shower off the day, and then enjoy your next two days off.  You were playing a puzzle game on your phone when an unknown number shows up on your screen. You answer, the man on the other end asks if it was you, you say it was, and you’re not sure if you should hang up, or keep listening. 

“My name is Ted Callahan, I’m a longtime friend of the band Corroded Coffin, and their manager.” 

Your breath hitches for a moment, you scratch your head, confused on what was happening. “Uh…I don’t—”

Corroded Coffin. You have known that name longer than the world has, more than half your life. 

“Listen, I know this is out of the blue, but I’m kind of at a loss right now. I’m calling because, Eddie is…he’s going through some stuff right now. He’s been mentioning you a lot lately, and I never even knew you existed until a few weeks ago, but…just hearing him talk about you, and your history, even though I don’t know much. I was wondering if you could help.” He sounds kind, you say to yourself, also exhausted. You never thought you would hear his name again, or even think he'd ever want to associate himself with you again. 

“Me?” You say, almost laughing. “I don’t…I haven’t spoken to Eddie in…God, going on fifteen years now. We didn’t…we didn’t end on good terms, I’m surprised he even remembers me, I…” I think about him every day still. 

“He said you were his first and only love…listen, honey. I’m gonna give it to you straight here. He almost died a few weeks ago, well, not almost, he did...for probably about five minutes. He overdosed on heroin and now he is in rehab after a legal issue in New York City with a few officers and the paramedics that revived him. I know it’s not your responsibility to save him, but I thought maybe you could reach out to him somehow…a phone call, letter. I don’t know what you kids do these days.” 

“He almost died?” You almost whisper it; your breath is caught in your throat and your stomach turns sour. 

“I’m not gonna make you do something you don’t want to do, honey. I don’t know exactly what happened with you two, but…there’s a spark that lights up in his eyes when he talks about you that I haven’t seen in a long time. You must have been really special to him.” He tells you softly. 

“I don’t know about that.” You whisper. If I was so special, why did he leave? 

“Will you at least save my number? Just let me know what you decide. Again, I’m sorry to dump this all on you. I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t think it was gonna make an impact on him…because I think if this rehab and sobriety thing doesn’t work, I’m afraid he’ll be dead in a year.” 

You rub your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’ll…I’ll think about it. I’ll save your number.”

“Thank you…you have a very kind voice.” He says and you mutter a thanks, you too, and awkwardly hang up the phone. You’re not entirely sure what to think, you just knew you had to get back to work and you would deal with this later. 

You tried not to think about him on the drive home; it was hard not to. Most days you went without thinking about him even though he was so very present on your heart. You’ve dated other people off and on for years, but nothing ever stuck. They were good men, but they were lacking something you quite couldn’t put your finger on. They weren’t him. You rolls your eyes at yourself, you hated how pathetic you felt when you thought about him. He was this famous rockstar, making millions, selling out stadiums and releasing records and most likely fucking every single woman that met him, but you still loved him. You still loved him after everything he put you through, you still loved him even though it had been fifteen years. It broke your heart hearing that he was using heroin, that it had gotten so bad he is now in a rehab. You weren’t sure how helpful you would be to reach out to him, or if he would even respond. You were still shocked when Ted told you he kept talking about you. It took everything in your power not to call him back and tell him to never contact you again because that part of your life was over. 

Or was it?

You thought it was over. Fifteen years ago, it was. When he had ripped out your heart and stomped on it. When he had left you standing in the middle of the street, on a cold night in Hawkins, as you silently cried, repeating the words he said: “I can’t do this anymore.” He never gave you a reason why, even as he sobbed while he was telling you those words. The next day he was actually gone; Gareth, him and Jeff loaded up his van, and had left before the sun had risen that morning. You had grieved him and were on the way to finish grad school for nursing when you saw their faces on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine. After that, their songs were on the radio, they were on everyone’s social media. He was everywhere, and you couldn’t get rid of him. You hated how good their music was, and you couldn’t believe the first song on their first album was the one the two of you wrote together. You remember that day like the back of your hand; it was summertime, senior year of high school was around the corner. You were two nerds in love, and no matter where you went, he was always by your side. You had always loved writing poetry, and that was what started the idea of you writing a few verses for him. 

The wind whips your hair as you attempt to turn the page in your book with one hand, trying to shift the weight of the warm body near you as your lean against the trunk of a tree. Eddie was laying in your lap, writing in his composition notebook. Your other hand was gently curling through his hair, massaging his scalp. He sets his notebook down on his stomach and gazes up at you. You look at him and smile, your eyes going back to your book. His hand reaches up to play with your hair, and he grins. “What are you reading?” 

“The collected poems of Sylvia Plath.” You tell him, not meeting his eyes.

He moans softly. “’I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. I think I made you up inside my head.’”

“Didn’t know you could read.” You say with a smirk and he laughs. 

“She’s the only woman that has allowed me inside her head, unlike someone I know.” He sits up, seating himself between your legs as you feel his eyes burn into the side of your face. You look at him, placing the bookmark to save your place. He’s smirking that smirk, and you lean back against the tree. 

“You’ve known me your whole life, you still haven’t figured me out?” He smiles and shakes his head. You reach your hand out to grip his chin. “Am I really that hard to read?” 

“Yes.” He says with a laugh. “You’re a mystery to me. I want to know what goes on inside that pretty little noggin of yours.” He leans forward, kissing your lips softly. You smile against his lips. 

“Give me your notebook. I’ll give you a little taste.” 

“Ooooh.” He says, groaning softly, brushing his lips against yours. “Don’t tempt me to taste other things.” 

A shudder goes through you, and you try to hide your blush. He giggles, rubbing your cheek softly, pushing his notebook into your chest. “Write me a song.” 

“I’m not sure if my thoughts are heavy metal material.” You tell him, turning to a blank page and uncapping the pen. He kisses your neck gently; his fingers lightly graze against the soft skin on your arm. Your eyes flutter close at his touch and you press the tip of the pen on the paper. He still gently caresses your skin, his soft lips leaving kissing trails along your neck and jaw. He was lucky you were in a public park, because you were about to say fuck the writing and lift up your dress just to feel him inside you. Well, that has never stopped you two before. 

He rests his head against your shoulder, letting out a peaceful sigh as you write. You’re not sure where it had come from, it felt dark as you stare at the words. You feel Eddie’s palm gently rub over the fabric where your stomach was, gently kneading. Your stomach twitches as he tickles you and he laughs quietly. “Is that a new spot?” He bites his lip, kissing your neck again. 

“Shhh, I’m almost done.” You tell him with a grin. His hand travels below your belly, gently cupping your mound and a small gasp escapes your lips. “Eddie…hands.” 

“Sorry.” He mutters and kisses your cheek. He watches you as you write more on the page. You hand him back the pen and the notebook. “Read it to me.” 

Your eyes widen slightly. “No, I’m embarrassed.” 

“Sweetheart, it’s me.” He tells you with a sweet smile. 

You sigh. “Fine. But don’t laugh at me.” He rests his head against your shoulder as you begin. “They say these ‘violent delights, have violent ends’ but is it so violent, that when the world ends in fire and ice, I’d rather freeze my soul, to be reborn, in a world not so cruel. Soulless eyes stare back into me, terrified of what they’ve seen. A little girl lost, but you found her in the pits of despair and agony. Kissed her tears, tasted her until she felt you in her very core and called you hers. A daughter of the night, the sun burns too bright, the sun burns too bright.” 

Eddie lifts his head from your shoulder and stares at you in awe. “Wow…that was…” 

“Horrible.”

“No! No, sweetheart.” He cups your face. “I didn’t know you could write like that. Why have you been holding out on me?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know, I didn’t think I was that great.” 

“This definitely heavy metal song material.” He takes the notebook from your hands, pressing his lips deeply against yours, holding the side of your face, his tongue licking your lips begging for entrance. You curl your fingers through his hair, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter all around as he kisses you. He pulls away, leaving small pecks on your lips. You were breathless, being kissed by him was always so breathtaking to you but he caught you off guard with this one. 

“What was that?” You giggle, staring into his big brown eyes. 

“I just…love you.” He rubs your cheek. “I feel like I don’t tell you that enough.”

He didn’t. And he didn’t love you, he was just lying about it, because why would it be that simple with him? That’s why this decision would make it hard for you. What would you gain from it? A mended friendship? That’s better than nothing, you thought. You didn’t want him to die; your stomach turns at the thought. What an idiot. You shake your head, what the hell was he thinking using heroin? What brought him to that point in his life to make that choice? You sigh, feeling defeated. What would you even say to him in the letter? Would you tell him that you’ve been thinking about him this whole time? No, that sounds pathetic. 

You groan. You pick up the pen, and you just write. 

Present Day - Eddie

I don’t think I’ve left my bedroom at all today. Maybe once to get something to eat. I was in my cabin in New York, Gareth has been staying with me. I know most of it is to keep an eye on me, but I know he doesn’t want to be alone either. It had snowed last night, there was over a foot on my property; Gareth had offered to take my truck to plow, I didn’t say no, I would’ve done it, but it probably would’ve stayed like that until Ted’s services. He wanted a combined wake and funeral; he was going to be buried where his parents were. We had to be in Vermont the day after tomorrow.  I was laying on my side, staring at the wall, and I hear my bedroom door open. I feel the bed shift as Gareth lays next to me. It wasn’t unusual, us to be laying in the same bed. For months we only had my van to drive and sleep in to play music gigs across different states, and the three of us would have to get comfortable being close. “You need to get up, man.” He tells me softly. 

“I will.” I mutter. 

“When?” I can feel his eyes digging into the back of my skull, I squeeze my eyes shut and then snap them open. Everytime I close my eyes I see Ted’s lifeless face, I hear my cries, feel the unbearable weight of the grief. 

“When I go to the bathroom again.” I feel myself smirking and I hear him chuckle a little. 

“You’re scaring me.” He says after a moment of silence. 

“I shouldn’t be.” I say quietly. “I don’t have a needle in my arm.” 

“Not yet.” 

“I love your words of support; it’s always so appreciated.” I say with an eye roll and turn on my back to face him. “I’m not gonna use again.” 

He looks at me, and I see the shy, awkward little kid that I met all those years ago, the kid I took punches for, who I would still take punches for. “How do you know that?” He does look scared, exhausted, sad…really fucking sad. 

I feel my throat close up as tears spring to my eyes. “Because if I do…all the work that I did…all the love and support he gave me even when I was at my worst…that all dies with him. And I can’t do that to him. Not again.” 

His eyes are watery, and he looks away from me, staring up at the ceiling. “I can’t lose you too, Eddie. I really, really don’t think I’d make it.” 

I grab his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m not going anywhere, man.” 

“What are we gonna do?” He whispers, and I see a tear fall down his cheek and onto my pillow. “He was the heart of our band…what are we supposed to do? Get a new manager?” 

“No.” I say, surprised at how stern I sound. “We don’t need a manager. He taught us everything we needed to know.” 

“It’s not gonna be easy.” He says with a soft laugh. 

“Did he ever have it easy with us?” 

“With us, yes. With you?” He meets my eyes and smiles. 

I laugh. “He did his best, that’s all we wanted.” 

“And he was good at it.” 

“That’s why we can’t get a new manager. It won’t be worth it.” I let out a loud sigh, your face flashes through my mind for a moment and I shudder, trying to not think of you. Gareth can sense my internal demise. 

“You should call her.” 

“No.” I say immediately. 

He sits up to lean against the headboard, looking down at me. “I don’t know why you’re so upset with her. She loves you.”

“She only contacted me because Ted asked her to. That’s not love, that’s pity.” I scoff, running my hands through my hair. I smell ripe, I definitely need to shower. 

“I mean…you walked out on her, Eddie. The fact that she was even willing to give you a chance again after all these years, it shows that she’s loved you this entire time. She started doing chest compressions on Ted the second I said to call 911, she didn’t even hesitate. She just did it. She is the same kind, caring, stupidly beautiful girl that she’s always been. She may have gotten older, but it didn’t hurt her insides. And she loves you, dude. I see her look at you the same way she did fifteen years ago, she’d still go to bat for you. Why does that scare you so much? To let love in like that?” 

“Because why would she love me? All I’ve done is cause her pain.” My voice sounds far away; I hate feeling vulnerable.  

“And have been causing yourself pain in the process. Eddie, you’ve been in love with her forever. Like since before you even started dating. You’ve been through everything together. There’s a reason why Ted reached out to her; there’s a reason why after all these years you get that chance to be with her again. Don’t let this be the thing that takes her away forever.” 

I glance up at him, scowling. “I hate that you have a way with words. I just wanted to kiss you just now.” 

He laughs, patting my head. “Don’t let her go. You’d be stupid to do that again.” He hops off the bed and turns to look at me from the doorway. “You fucking stink, go take a shower.” 

I put up my middle finger and we both laugh; I watch as he walks away and closes my door. I sigh, groaning at the stupid regret I feel in the pits of my stomach. He was right, I’ve been in love with you for so long sometimes it was hard to breathe. I force myself out of bed; it’s like thinking of you was the push I needed. I remember the day I told you I loved you for the first time, I was having the worst anxiety; I remember Uncle Wayne telling me that the worst thing that could happen is that you wouldn’t feel the same way, and that just made me feel worse. It was just a normal night for us, we were smoking pot in the back of my van. It was cold this night, you had a fleece blanket wrapped around your knees, you were singing bohemian rhapsody in all the voices, and I couldn’t handle how funny you were being, I was almost going into a straight panic attack. 

“Please, stop. I can’t…I can’t breathe!” I laugh loudly. 

“For meeeeee, for meeeeeeeee!” You start head banging and ended up whacking your head off of Gareth’s high hat, which causes me to laugh even harder. “Ow! Fuck.” You laugh holding your head and I gently lift your hair to check to make sure there wasn’t a severe injury. 

���That’s what you get.” I laugh, gently smoothing out your hair. You giggle, moving Gareth’s high hat out of the way to make more room. You were wearing a black zip up hoodie, and only a bra underneath. I only knew that because when you leaned over I could only see the hills of your breasts. And I know that’s why you were so cold. Oh, how I wanted to unzip that hoodie even lower, just to see you, see all of you. I hated my hormonal thoughts, it always gave me an erection whenever I thought of you that way. And I have always thought of you as something more, not just my best friend, but someone I could see spending the rest of my life with. I felt stupid thinking like that, we were only seventeen, we were babies. 

“What?” You snap me out of my thought. 

“Huh?” I say. 

You laugh. “You’re just staring at me, are you having a moment? Are you too high?” 

“Let’s not talk about whether I’m too high or not because you know it will send me into a spiral thinking my eyeballs aren’t closing.” I laugh nervously. 

“They’re not closing.” You smirk at me. 

I growl at you. “Don’t be an asshole.” 

You laugh loudly, nudging me with your shoulder, moving yourself onto my lap. I could feel how cold you were, so I wrap my arms around the top of you, gently rubbing your shoulders. It wasn’t unusual for you to do this, we have always been each other's human security blankets, but I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. I needed to tell you, just to get it out. Just to let you know that I’ve loved you since I understood what that word meant. That if you didn’t feel the same way, at least you’d know. I’m playing with your hair; my fingers gently go behind your neck and massage the skin. You softly moan a little, and I swallow hard. 

“I have to tell you something.” I whisper to you. You turn your head in my lap to look at me, you have a small smile on your face. My hand gently goes to your chin, and I let out a shaky breath. 

“Hey, are you okay?” You sit up to look at me. 

“I…I um…” I laugh nervously, running my hands through my hair. I stare at your face, your lips. “I’m in love with you.” I give you a little shrug and a small smile. 

You stare at me for a moment, and I can see the gears in your brain turning. “I know this is out of nowhere and I’m sorry…even if you don’t feel the same I just wanted you to-“ 

Your lips are on mine suddenly, your hands cup my face. My hands nervously go to your waist as the kiss deepens, I feel your tongue graze mine gently, and I shudder. You pull away, staring into my eyes, my lips. You hold my face and I stare at you in awe. “I love you too.” You whisper and I can feel my grin getting wider.

“Really?” I ask you and you nod. 

“Since forever.” You say, leaning forward to kiss me again, I hold your face when we pull away. “You’re my person.” 

I smile again, pressing my lips to yours. You push your body onto mine, straddling my waist with your legs.  I wrap both my arms around your waist, moving slightly to lay you on your back. The rug to my van was an old shag carpet, but it was comfortable. You didn’t feel cold anymore. Your hands move under my shirt, I shudder at your touch, your soft hands. I move my lips to your neck, pulling the zipper down, kissing both hills of your breasts. You let out a soft sigh, your fingers curling through my hair as I cup one of your breasts, kissing in between them. I grip your jean clad thigh, hooking it tighter around my waist and grind against you. The friction plus the pressure causes a throaty moan to escape me and you sit up. You stare at me, your lips swollen from our kiss, and you unzip the hoodie, sliding it off of you and I watch as your hands to behind your back, unhooking your bra. The straps fall slightly down your shoulders and I watch as you shyly let the bra slip away from you. I lean back on my heels, my palms on your knee as my eyes scan your body. I’ve always imagined this; but this was better than what I had imagined. I lean forward between your legs, kissing you deeply. My lips go down to your neck, and I glance up at you, making sure everything was still okay before I did what I did. You lean back to get more comfortable, and I pull your nipple into my mouth. You let out a moan, which caused me to almost explode in my own jeans. The closest I’ve ever gone with a girl was feeling her up, this was brand new to me, and I could tell it was for you too. I wanted to taste all of you, I wanted to know what your sex tasted like, I wanted to know what would make you scream. I move my lips down to kiss your ribs, your naval and I snap the button of your jeans. You arch your hips, helping me pull them down and this is the first time I’m seeing you in your underwear. My fingers knead your thighs and I look into your eyes. 

“Can I taste you?”

Your face turns crimson, it made you look so much more beautiful, and you nod, biting your lip. “I’ve never done this before.” 

“You know I haven’t.” I laugh, and I stare at you as I move my palm to the top of your underwear. The fabric was damp, and I feel a smile toy at my lips, gently moving your underwear to the side. My hands shake a little as the tips of my fingers graze your clit, I watch as your head falls back, and a soft moan escapes you. I rub you gently, feeling your opening. I gently slide a finger into you and your back arches, I couldn’t believe how tight you felt. I scoot back to my stomach, wrapping my arms around your thighs, staring at your beautiful, beautiful pussy. You lean up on your elbows to look at me; and I flick my tongue out, gently kissing your clit. You gasp and something awakens inside me. You taste so good, so sweet, and I bury my face into your folds, devouring you. I didn’t even know if I was doing it right, but from the sounds you were making; I think I was doing okay. Your fingers pull my hair and I feel my dick twitch as you moan loudly. “Right there, baby.” You moan out, and I moan in response; you sounded so sexy, so breathless. 

I pull away to look up at you. “Like this?” I lick a long wet stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking gently. You tremble beneath me, your chest heaving with gasps and moans. 

“Oh…my…Eddie.” You moan. I groan in response, tasting all of you, sucking you until your moans get louder and I’m pretty positive you’re about to come. Your head falls back in pleasure, and a loud, hot, moan escapes your lungs and you’re coming in my mouth. I stick my tongue around your hole, feeling you clench, tasting your juices and gripping your thighs until you can’t take it anymore. It’s so intoxicating I don’t want to stop. Your eyes are closed as you settle your breathing, I sit back on my heels, wiping my face and smile at you. You sit up, grabbing the back of my head and kiss me. You moan against my mouth, and a groan escapes me when I feel your hand cup my erection over my jeans. You pull away from me, quickly undoing the button on my jeans and pulling them down past my legs. I see your eyes widen when I spring to life, and you smile.

You look up at me, your hands gently rub my thighs, my ass and I shudder under your touch. I move to my back, highly aware of how exposed I felt with your eyes scanning my body. I immediately feel shy, and I honestly couldn’t tell you why. You sense how nervous I am, and you crawl up my body. Your hand tickles my chest and you kiss me gently. I hold your waist, gripping your skin and you pull back to look at me. I swallow hard as you lean down to kiss my neck, making soft pecks along my chest, moving down to my abdomen. A moan escapes me when I feel your hands gently grab my cock, rubbing your soft hands over the velvety ness of it. I gasp when I feel your lips kiss the tip; I could tell you were nervous too, but I swear as soon as you took my whole length into your mouth, you knew exactly what to do. A broken moan escapes me, and you quickly pull your head back.

“I’m sorry…did I…”

“No, no.” I say breathlessly, grabbing your wrist. “That was really good, keep going.” 

Your mouth is on me again, and I groan, feeling your tongue swirl around my shaft, move down towards my balls. I moan loudly, my head falls back against the bottom of the high hat, which causes a humorous sound and I end up laughing while moaning. You throat me deeper and I hold your hair. I want to know what you feel like inside, I want to feel that beautiful pussy clench around my cock. I pull your head up to look at you.

“I wanna feel you.” I whisper. 

You sit back, smiling that beautiful smile. You nod, biting your lower lip. I scoot up, taking your face in my hands and kiss you deeply. I turn you around so you’re on your back, gently grazing my fingertips over your skin. I bite my bottom lip, staring at your naked body. You were so beautiful. I feel a blush rise to my cheeks as I stare at you, and you smile sweetly.

“You nervous?” You ask me and I nod.

“A little.”

“Me too.” You say, reaching up to cup my face as I hover above you. I smile into your palm and a thought crosses my mind. 

“Oh.” I lean back, go into my wallet, pulling out a condom. I tear it open with my teeth, staring at the rubber like it was a bomb. 

“I think it goes…” you sit up a little, taking the condom and sliding it down my shaft. I shudder but I’m equally embarrassed. 

“Pretty pathetic that I don’t know how to put a condom on.” I laugh awkwardly, leaning down to hover over you again. 

“You’re not pathetic. If you’re pathetic; I’m pathetic. I’ve never had an orgasm until you.” 

My eyes widen at your confession. “No way. Even when you play with yourself?” 

You shake your head. “I guess I didn’t do it right.” You laugh and smile at me. “Looks like we have to teach each other things.” 

I smirk, gently leaning down to kiss your lips. I rub your cheek, caresses your hair. “If it hurts, you tell me, okay? And I’ll stop.” 

You nod, I could feel you shaking. I was shaking too, but I wasn’t sure if it was nerves, excitement or both. You open your legs a little wider for me, and I kiss you gently, my hand palming your entrance and I pull my hand away to line myself up with you. I slowly push myself in, and a grunt escapes me, you let out a soft gasp and I feel you clench. 

“Am I hurting you?” I ask, panic in my voice as I stop pushing in.  

“No, it just stings a little. Keep going.” You whisper, gripping my forearms. I push myself in further and I hear you coo; I look at your face and you’re biting your lip. You were so fucking tight, so tight that it was starting to hurt me, and I didn’t know what to do next. I feel you roll your hips into mine and I gently pull myself out a little and move back in. You moan, and a throaty growl escapes me as I quicken the movements in my hips. You felt so good, and I wanted to go faster but I didn’t want to hurt you. 

“Faster, baby.” You moan, like you read my mind. I stare into your eyes, and you kiss me deeply, letting me know that it was okay. I move my hips faster, the sensation of the friction, plus the sounds that were coming from you were turning me into a wild fucking animal. “Ohhh…” 

I could feel my orgasm building in my belly, and once I feel your hands grab my ass to push me deeper into you, it was all over. We were both moaning so loud, and I honestly didn’t remember which way up. You gasp loudly, and I feel you clench around me. “Oh baby…I think I’m gonna come again��”

“Fuck…I’m close…” my head falls back in pleasure, and I slow my rhythm down, my hips bucking as I come into the condom, and you’re fucking screaming my name, clenching all around me. Your nails claw at my back and I’m groaning into your neck as I ride out the rest of my orgasm, and you gasp out beautiful, beautiful sounds that was music to my ears. 

I swallow back the lump in my throat as I lay my head in the crook of your neck. Your hands are in my hair, holding me to you. I look at you and you smile at me, kissing me so softly, sweetly. And at that moment, all was right in the world. 

Gareth had driven my car to Vermont, I couldn’t stomach the drive. I think I puked three times before getting in the car because I’m still having a hard time processing what we were doing and why we were going to Vermont. I think I chain smoked a whole pack of cigarettes the way there. I was texting with my sponsor the whole way there too, he was a good guy, making me feel better about myself on how it was normal to be feeling the way I did. I didn’t want to use, but I didn’t want to feel anything. He also suggested I reach out to you after the services, and I shut that down. I didn’t want to think about you, I just wanted to focus on the fucked-up fact I was about to bury the one man I considered a father. We pull up to the funeral home, it looked like a beautiful cottage. A large window overlooked a frozen lake. I get out of the car on shaky legs; I could feel Gareth’s eyes on me. 

I turn to look at him. “I’m fine.” 

“Don’t look it.” He mumbles. 

“Neither do you.” I slam the car door and we both walk up the stone steps into the funeral home. We enter the place, and I’m immediately overwhelmed by the aroma of floral arrangements I want to gag. We sign the guest book, and I have to pause in the double doorway when I see the shiney black opened casket. I don’t even see the people in the seats, or the people who have been in the music industry longer than I have. I just zero in on the box and Julie standing right next to it. She meets my eyes, and she’s already pushing her way through people to get to me. I’m falling into her, my forehead is resting against her small shoulder, I’m breathing in the smell of her shampoo and her Chanel perfume. She’s hugging me close, and I begin to weep. 

“Oh, my sweet boy…” She says gently in my ear.

“It doesn’t seem real, it’s not right…” I pull away to look at her, to glance at the casket. “It’s not okay.” The tears are hot on my cheeks, and I feel Gareth stiffen next to me as he tries to control his own tears. She kisses my cheek, taking my hand, leading me up to the casket. I stop when I see Nellie, she meets my eyes, and she’s immediately sobbing. I hug her to me, cupping the back of her head as she buries her face into my chest. She was a few years younger than me, and she always felt like a sister, and I immediately feel riddled with guilt that I spent so many years chasing a high when she would send me birthday cards from her kids, or birthday party invitations. Even when I wasn’t on tour, I would make up some excuse. I couldn’t do that anymore. No more excuses. 

“I’m so sorry.” I whisper to her, and there’s so many reasons behind that. Her fingers grip into my back and she nods against my chest. 

“Don’t disappear on me again, okay?” She pulls away to look at me. “The kids need their Uncle Eddie.” 

I swallow a sob, and nod, gently kissing the top of her head. I look over at the casket, and I slowly make my way over. He was dressed in his best blazer that he had custom made, a vintage Van Halen t shirt covers his chest underneath. His shaggy dirty blonde hair was styled neatly. I couldn’t look at his face. I just stared at his chest; my vision was blurring. I felt the similar ache in my belly when I thought of you, except you were still alive. Ted was dead.  I finally look at his face, and a sound escapes my lungs. I sound like a whimpering dog; I couldn’t control it, I just started to weep. I rest my head against the kneeling bench, feeling Julie’s arms wrap around me. I felt pathetic, crying like this, in front of all these people. Ted was the reason we got to where we were…Ted was also the reason that got me back to you. 

And I didn’t know how to keep going without him. 

I disassociated during the burial, I don’t remember who I spoke to, who I hugged. All I remember is coming back to my cabin with Gareth, neither one of us saying a word to each other. I had peeled off my suit jacket, kicked off my shoes and plopped on the chair in my kitchen. I lit up a cigarette, letting the smoke billow in my lungs. I stare up at my liquor cabinet, knowing that I had a half empty bottle of bourbon hidden in there. The chair skids against the floor as I get up, go into the cabinet, and pull the bottle down. I pull the cap off the bottle, staring at the brown liquid. My heart was racing, I could feel my ears pulsating as my thoughts were swimming in my brain.

You know where this can lead to. Ted’s voice echoes in my head. 

“Fuck off.” I whisper through my teeth. 

You’ve come so far. 

“FUCK OFF!” I scream, pitching the bottle against the wall next to my refrigerator and it shatters, the liquid spilling to the floor. I yell again, punching the wood of my cabinets until my knuckles bled. I slide to the floor; Gareth comes running in from the back bedroom.

“Jesus, Eddie…” He says quietly, his eyes scanning the broken glass, my bloody hand, and the tears streaming down my cheeks. 

“Did you know…the last time Ted was here, I was detoxing? Right on that couch.” I let out a chuckle, pointing out into the living room. “Unwillingly of course, or maybe willingly, I don’t fucking know. I was heading into the depths of madness at that point, but he had shown up. I was convinced you had sent these little demon creatures to come kill me or hurt him and somehow, he convinced me to get rid of my dope.” I laugh again, almost manically. “The last time that man was in my house, I was a complete fucking monster. I hated him, I hated him for making me go through the pain. I hated him because he cared about me so fucking much, he’d rather sit there and watch me cry and scream in pain. Why, man?” I look up at Gareth, my lips trembling. “Why did he care about me so much? After everything I had done. After who I became?”

“Eddie…” I could tell he’s lost for words. He slides down to the floor next to me, and I just stare at him. He pulls me by my shirt, pulling me into him. He cradles me like a baby, and I just sob into his chest. “You know why, dude. He loved you.”

I scoff, wiping the snot from my nose. “I was unlovable. And I fucking manipulated him so many times. I’m surprised he didn’t have a heart attack back then.”

“Eddie.” Gareth says sternly. “If you are blaming yourself for his death, you’re a bigger fucking idiot than I thought. Things like this just happen sometimes, man. Whether it’s natural, or unnatural. When I was so fucking at you when it got really bad, when I thought I was staring into the eyes of a person who murdered my brother…Ted would always tell me that he knew you were still in there. That you would come out of this, and look…you came out of it.”

“It’s not that simple, man.” I say through my teeth, my throat bobbing as I’m trying to stop from sobbing again. “Everyday I have to fight…I have to hold back the urge to go and use…and now…now I have all this love…all this love that has no place to go…he was a fucking dad to us, Gareth. And now he’s gone…he’s just…gone.” 

Gareth doesn’t say anything more, he just holds me tighter as I cry. 

Rabbit hole

Rabbit hole

Where did you go? 

Rabbit hole

Rabbit hole

Where did…

I haven’t showered in three days; Gareth left yesterday. 

I pace in my kitchen, already on my fourth cup of coffee, and it’s not even noon. 

My phone rings, I send it to voicemail, sending a reassuring text that I’m okay. 

I’m really not, but I don’t have a needle in my arm.

So, there’s that. 

It’s been a week; I finally showered. I dreamt of you last night. 

I grip the pen in my hand, flapping the composition notebook as I continue to pace in the living room. 

My therapist is here. 

I don’t say much. 

She looks afraid for me. 

Maybe, she should be.

She suggested anti-depressants. 

I said no, I numbed my feelings for too long, I had to pay the price and feel things without the help of a medicine. 

Dying seems better than this existence. 

Maybe I already died, and I’m just living in this vessel of a body that is rotten. 

Fuck, Eddie. That’s dark. 

I laugh to myself, continuing to pace. Looks like I don’t need the drugs to be an actual fucking madman. 

Mad hatter, too much tea

Mad hatter, look at me, look at me,

I’m a fucking disease. 

Every time I close my eyes, I see you. I see your smile, I hear your laugh, I feel your touch. 

What the fuck am I doing? 

Why am I standing here alone? 

I miss you. 

I miss him. 

No. No. No. 

Gareth is right. 

I can’t lose you. 

Not again. 

Not again. 

NOT AGAIN.

I take the keys to my truck, awkwardly pulling my boots on as I stumble out the door.

Looks like I’m going to Maine.

[stocious]

oh hey look who has the spoons to do a tag game again? this bitch! thank you @jrooc and @energievie for tagging me (and everyone else whose tagged me these past weeks/months/whatever... spoons, ya know).

Name: i've grown weirdly fond of jamez. thanks comet. (it's kaka though. but jamez is cool too now i guess).

Age you are mentally: forever a 20-something.

Top 3 fics that came out last year (that you can remember at this point lol) : insert ian_think-emote. i barely remember what i was going last week.

Last Night at the Verona Hotel by @the-rat-wins

Wanna go again? by @wehangout

The Harley Quinn/Joker series by sunsetsomewhere (i will not take further questions)

Add in any authors who you read all of their things: @whatthebodygraspsnot, cryme_anocean, @wehangout, @goodkwuestion etc etc etc.

Fave artist/band/singer/group your discovered last year (has to be new to you, not new): sleep token and archers.

One thing you learnt last year that you're taking into 2025: oh hey, look who's slowly learning how to battle the brain demons.

Was is a good year or bad year? eh, it was kinda meh you know? not bad nor great, just kinda... in the middle.

Is there anything superstitious you do to try and continue that vibe or absolutely change it? nooot really no.

Fave WIP your following into this year: i haven't been keeping up properly, i'm sorry D:

Can't Have a Stakeout by @lazystargazy

Are you doing any January 'get healthy' things? well, does actually cooking my own meals count? because i'm cooking again. look at me go!

Did you consider yourself an avid reader before you found fanfic? you know i read a lot as a kid and then i didn't read anything for years and then came fanfic. i haven't touched an actual book in years though.

Do you read books as well as fanfic? Yes or No: i did read two published books recently. it was very underwhelming. god bless all our telented fic writers. i have been spoiled. but no.

What are you doing to survive this January so far? i've been getting lost in tv series lately. i finally finished lost and now i'm working my way through desperate housewives as you do 🫡

tag you're it!

@deathclassic @sgtmickeyslaughter @mybrainismelted @femboymilkovich @transmurderbug

@deedala @callivich @spookygingerr @spacerockwriting @creepkinginc

aaand anyone else

[roslynwrites]

you’re such an incredible writer, so i only imagine u read extensively too. i’ve noticed ur ao3 bookmarks are empty, but i’d love to get a list of your favorite titles whether it’s zutara, other fandom or traditionally published works.

I do indeed read a lot. The past few years I have read much less fanfic and have focused on original stuff, but I have actually been able to read a few fics in recent times because my brain didn't want to write, I did have a bit of Zutara burnout I think so no Zutara recs here (yet).

But if you, like me, enjoy some Dramione, then, for starters:

anything by phlox (Slowly Toward Desire is my favorite)

Amateur Cartography by worksofstone

A Darker Blue by skitter (legitimately cannot believe this fic didn't blow up, one of the best Dramione fics I've read and that fandom has a ton of good shit, so like. wow. skitter also has a Zutara! I have not yet read but it's on my list and I'm already sure I will love it)

Lights Out by Phoebe

I used to read every pairing under the sun in HP but as I said, haven't read as much fic lately, but two others are Blood & Gold (a Tomione, by the legendary ObsidianPen) and The Wilderness (Luna/Ginny) by speechwriter. If you try nothing else on this list, try The Wilderness. That fic is high art. It blew my entire goddamn mind, my god. I also highly recommend anything by PacificRimbaud (esp. the Paneville)

*cracks knuckles* now for some original stuff:

The Liveship Trilogy by Robin Hobb altered my brain chemistry

Scholomance Trilogy by Naomi Novik. I mean, okay, I worship Naomi generally, so I was shocked to discover it took me a while to get into these. Read the first, thought 'meh', came back to it again later, liked it better, second and third proceeded to BLOW me away

NK Jemisin's Broken Earth trilogy. In case you want a nice dose of a darker twist on Earthbending and an exploration of prejudice.

Juniper & Thorne by Ava Reid for your Gothic horror needs

Lost Boy and Alice, both by Christina Henry. Dark fairy tale retellings, so you know I'm there. She does them so well.

The Burning series by Evan Winter. It has dragons and a dual-sword wielding badass, in case you need those itches scratched

If you want some good published romance (I tend to like fanfic for pure romance stories tbh so I'm usually pickier here) that has some fanfic vibes, I enjoyed Act Your Age, Eve Brown by Talia Hibbert

If you want dark Zutara vibes, my go-to rec and one of my favorite series is The Poppy War trilogy (I will never get over #rinezha)

I wouldn't say I adore The Legendborn Cycle series, but I still like it, you can tell the author has roots in the fan/fanfic scene I think, and again, I think it has some Zutara vibes. Tracy Deonn 100% had to have been inspired by Zuko for her character Sel, I'm convinced. And her take on the Arthurian legend is really unique and creative.

[catmomjudy]

I had surgery on Thursday, so, while I felt fine, I was probably a little off. The “Cone” line struck me as funny, I.e. like it should be funny, but I had no idea why, and it was overwhelmed by my bitter hatred of Helena Diaz in the same scene.

As I was standing here rolling meatballs (and, yes, I believe I had another post a month or so ago about another meatball-based realization—mindless work frees the brain cells 😁), it hit me:

Now, before I begin let me say this: I have nothing against Tommy. The relationship, as it stands right now, just doesn’t resonate with me. I read Buck/Tommy fanfiction by authors I subscribe to because I like the authors. But there’s enough out there to read that I don’t go seeking it out. There’s nothing wrong with shipping them. I just feel “Meh” about it.

Also, let me say (because this post has to do with knowing cultural references) that I also have no issue with the age gap. The first romance addiction I had (in late elementary school) was the Little House books. Laura and Almanzo had a ten year gap. So, that set my meter for “average.”

I know plenty of people have tried to figure out how old canon Tommy is. For the purposes of this post, let’s just say he’s 40ish and born in the early 1980s.

*************

The Coneheads were an SNL sketch during the early days of the show. The sketches appeared from 1977 through 1979.

Tween me loved the Coneheads.

The movie Coneheads was released in 1993.

I am willing to bet that tween Tommy also loved the Coneheads.

Buck however, was born in or about 1992. Granted, the movie came out after he was born, but I think this attitude probably still applies unless someone else has urged him to watch the movie or (like with Star Wars) he went back and watched because later movies came out:

Now, there are great classic movies out there that I bet adult (version 5.0) Buck has watched because he’s heard of them, or he saw a reference (or ten in the case of some very famous movies) and wanted to “get” it.

Not to diss the Coneheads, but, I doubt adult Buck went back and watched. They just aren’t that great. It’s kind of a “in the moment” “you had to be there” kind of humor. Adult me who, as a tween loved the Coneheads, had no interest (in my 20s, when I was still watching some ridiculous stuff—Weekend at Bernie’s comes to mind) in ever seeing the movie.

So, what was off about Tommy’s comment?

Nothing major. It was cute. And Tommy certainly was trying to be lighthearted and show that he was happy to go along with the party and the hats. And it’s great that he does feel comfortable enough to be silly with Buck.

But, really, did Buck get it? I’ve seen no indication in canon that they hang out watching old silly movies after hours.

So, I’m sure Tommy thought it was funny.

I’m sure the older SNL-addicted screenwriters thought it was funny.

If I’d been in my right mind on Thursday night and made the Coneheads connection, you’d have gotten a snort out of me.

But did Buck get it, is the question?

It just feels like another attempt at humor on Tommy’s part that didn’t land with his boyfriend. And that’s one of the main reasons the whole thing isn’t really vibing with me.

🤷🏻‍♀️

[phosphostar]

i loveeeeeeeeeee donnie do much could write a one shot where hes been hella obsessed w reader and he doesn't know the feelings mutual. maybe reading invites him afterschool to work on their science project together and ur parents aren't home and ur super flirty and he's just soooo flustered. u end up on his lap and he cant belive he gpt so lucky

hhnnnngggg you are literally on my same brain wavelength ilysm!!!!!! tell me if you want a pt. 2..?

misery’s muse

—————————————————

donnie’s always been.. a bit possessive. with his drawings, books, music, anything he really deems his is his, and he has no problem letting you know it. this, as of late, has also stemmed to you.

since deeming you his, donnie’s been acting akin to a lost puppy. following you around as much as he can, “protecting you” (telling his friends to fuck off when they get to close for his comfort), he’s pretty much your personal bodyguard. you always thought he was pretty cute. pretty baby blue eyes, dark black hair, cute personality, dorky, the works. you especially always had a crush on him. even after his odd ramblings about… time travel? and a fucking 6 foot tall bunny? you don’t even know. so you were pretty fucking ecstatic when our english class was given a project to do with partners.

“hey, donnie?” you ask, looking at him, your hands fidgeting with the fabric of your skirt. “i was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over at my place? my parents aren’t home, so we’d have like the whole house to ourselves?” you say, smiling. “yeah, i mean i’d like love that.” he laughs nervously, god you can almost see the little hearts in his eyes as his cheeks flush a little bit. “awesome! let’s go!” you grab his hand tightly, and begin walking to your house. on the way there, you two talk about your plan for the project. should you write about… shakespeare? no, basic. how about edgar alan poe? meh, people won’t get it. before you can come up with another option, you arrive at your house.

you allow donnie in, showing him to your bedroom. “gimme a second, don. gonna shower. is that okay?” you ask him, a towel and extra clothing already in your hand. “mhm, go ahead y/n.” donnie says, looking around distracted at your room. as you walk off, he sneaks into your drawers until he finds your panties. hell yeah, he thinks as he sniffs them hard, then pockets them. as soon as you walk in with an oversized shirt and some shorts, he’s restraining himself so hard.

the girl of his dreams?? in a shirt like 3 sizes too big??? and he can’t fuck her??? damn bro.

damn.

but you obviously have a cheeky glint in your eye. he’s confused out of his mind. “donnie? before we start with the project,” you say as you move closer to him, your confidence radiating off onto him, you place yourself down on his lap, shuffling forward just so you nudge his painful hard on.

fuck yeah, this is gonna be the best night of his life.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Writer asks -

@bittercape tagged me in this weeks ago and I’m finally doing the thing!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

215 works...

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

976,222

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Marvel and DC lately, but I’ve also written a significant amount of Supernatural and Criminal Minds.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Brains Over Beauty (SPN/CM) 

Spitting Venom (SPN/CM) 

The One With The Pottery Barn Couch (DC/Marvel) 

Quitting (SPN/CM) 

Origin Stories (SPN/CM)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! Almost always.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I usually just do angsty endings that are on par with the angst level of the rest of the fic, I guess — I try to end with some amount of resolution or at least hope, and so I rarely think of my endings as angsty. But probably Come Haunt Me.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Sweet Home Was Home. The whole story was about sorta… figuring out what happened after the camera stopped rolling. And figuring out what “happily ever after” would look like for them. So it was the fic that I felt was most important for it to have a happy ending and to have a full resolution to all the emotional threads. I really love the ending — I love the way it mirrors the beginning scene, and I love how well it sums up the ways in which the characters have grown, and I think it gives them exactly the full, meaningful lives that they deserve. It’s not just a love story and the ending reflects that.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not particularly.

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

Yes. So many kinds. But usually the “rough sex as catharsis” and “kink as therapy” kind.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

Ha. Yes. They’re my favorite thing to write!

Weirdest ones were probably This Tall To Ride (Sam Winchester/Frank Iero, because that height difference is fucking hilarious), Daisies (Sam Winchester/Harry Styles on acid at Bonnaroo), and Four Super-Soldiers and Tony Stark Walk Into A Bar… (in which Slade Wilson and Soldier Boy are in the cryo tanks in Siberia).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of, but I’ve never looked.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I’m aware of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Marshmallows, with @noxnthea

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Winterhawk. There is something so fundamentally good and healthy about the way these two fit together, no matter which aspect of their dynamic you bring out, and there are so many - they work as grumpy/sunshine, as murder husbands, as snarky disasters... more importantly, they’re two characters who would be able to both accept each other unconditionally and help each other grow, and that is my favorite thing to read.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don’t have any right now! My only current WIP is Map of My Heart. The others have been shelved but I either don’t have interest in finishing them or I absolutely think I will finish them, no doubts involved.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Putting the reader in the character’s emotional state, showing character growth/development, and writing relationships that are ultimately healthy.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes and building suspense. Which is why I'm doing this instead of working on my fic! Oops.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I feel meh about it? I am not a fluent speaker in any other language, so I’d have to use some sort of translator, which tends to miss nuance and feel stiff, which is never what I want in dialogue. Instead I tend to use italics to convey that they’re speaking another language but write the lines themselves in English.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Lords of Dogtown. On fucking Quizilla. I am a Fandom Old.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

A Muscle the Size of Your Fist. If anybody wanted to get to know me really well, get to know what I believe and what I value and how I see the world, I’d point them to that. But it’s also just well written; I’m proud of the unique character voices and the way their narrative arcs all fit together. They all make each other better over the course of the story.

Tagging (with apologies if you've already done this) @kangofu-cb @stunudo @i-know-how-my-story-ends @carcrash429 @betrayedbycinnamon

[gabessquishytum]

No sex ed virgin dream au my beloved.

How about mixing it in with the 'Dream has had sex before but it was just bad' idea and turning on that blender? Let's throw in young Dream with older neighbour Hob as well. Who's gonna stop me?

In this au, I am imagining the Endless as one of those stereotypical Christian families. The type that is about abstinence and boring married missionary sex to procreate. Yes the Endless siblings are the family's worst nightmare because they all turned out...like that. Even the ones who are straight and "behave" believe in supporting the "sinful lifestyle". Christmas dinner is a delightful event.

Maybe Calliope is from a similar family, because let's face it, no one can stand these people aside from people who are also Like That. She is about the same age as Dream and they both like art so naturally their families think they will be perfect together! Surprisingly they actually like spending time with each other so getting married doesn't sound awful.

They have a cute little wedding and move to a different neighbourhood to live out the married life. Except....they aren't enjoying it much. They like each other, have similar interests, respect one another, and they are great friends. Everything indicates that they would have a great marriage, they certainly get along better than other couples they know, so why are they both so unsatisfied?

Their sex life is best described as mediocre. Other young couples at church/family gatherings expressed a similar dissatisfaction but those stories all seem to have something to do with one partner pressuring the other or not reciprocating or it being physically painful. Dream and Calliope don't have those issues. The sex is just....meh.

[Calliope: I have feelings for you. Dream: I have feelings for you, too. Narrator: The feeling was “friendship,” but neither had ever experienced it]

When they meet their new neighbours they quickly befriend the slightly older couple. It's impossible not to, Eleanorand Hob are both so incredibly nice and charismatic. I'm thinking Dream and Calliope are in their early 20s and Hob and Eleanor are about mid to late 30s.

One night they have a dinner party with plenty of wine and Dream and Calliope just start spilling. Hob and Eleanor, bisexuals extraordinaire, are shocked at the blank expressions on Dream and Calliope's faces. How has their sex ed been this bad?

They end up giving Dream and Calliope a lot of tips and it does improve their sex life but they both still feel like something is missing. Maybe a hot older man/woman?

I firmly believe Calliope and Dream are the kind of couple who get wine drunk together and one night they both end up confessing they have a crush on the neighbour. Some drunken confusion later they establish that Calliope has a massive crush on Eleanor and Dream is totally gone on Hob.

It takes them way too long to do anything about it since they are so desperately trying not to get in the way of Hob and Eleanor's marriage that neither of them notice the very obvious hints Hob and Eleanor have been dropping.

They get their eventually though. The older Endless family members are dangerously close to getting an aneurism when, a couple years later, they get invited to a garden party that ends up being an anniversary celebration for..... who, exactly? The rituals of a bisexual polycule are intricate and mysterious.

For extra shits and giggles: Calliope and Eleanor get pregnant around the same time and for the family members who don't see them often (which to be fair is most of them) it becomes impossible to tell who Robin's and Orpheus's biological mothers are. They don't even try to unpack who the biological father is.

- 🍃

Quietly dying. This is SO GALAXY BRAIN. Polycule!!! Always love a polycule!!!!

Dream and Calliope having mediocre missionary sex each night while literally on the other side of the wall, Eleanor is having her mind blown once again by Hob’s pussy eating skills. She's gonna peg him when he's done down there. This is my new favourite thing ok. When they finally have The Conversation I'm imagining Eleanor taking Cal by the shoulders and looking in her eyes like "sweetheart. darling. please tell me you know where your clit is." Blank expressions from both Cal and Dream. Hob has a breakdown over the Tragedy of It All.

After a lot of umming and erring and weeks of hopeless pining Hob comes over from next door and he's like "OK my wife is going insane, we need to talk about this. she really wants to blow your back out Cal. preferably now." And then he looks at Dream and blushes "also i really want to suck your dick."

And they do talk about it a lot more and there are Big Feelings at stake. But they make it work. They end up knocking through the wall between their houses and making one Big House and its amazing. They have Robyn and Orpheus who might as well be twins and then maybe they adopt Daniel as well. The polycule is thriving (except for when Calliope and Hob get mistaken for siblings because they look vaguely alike. that's just awkward. Eleanor and Dream think it's hilarious BTW.)

[wachtelspinat]

i saw your answer about how you were worried the stuff you were putting out felt shallow and i was like ah.... im nobody but i've been a fan of your art since your early tf2 posting. your work has inspired me to push myself with my anatomy and gestures over the years. no matter what you do or make, to me, it's always a genuine work of art. to ME, but im just a random artist. the fuck yeah two cakes mentality. anyway hava a nice day, i hope your upcoming week is nice and life is merciful bye :]

hey! i'm really sorry for the super late response, working and moving just absolutely scrambles my brain and i forgot to answer you, sorry for that!

and aaa thank you so much, means a lot to me <3 i was getting so weirdly insecure about my stuff because even while real life was having an iron grip on my balls i was trying to keep up with my mutuals and what news there was about the junkers and everything i was able to put out just felt so... meh. idk. rly did not feel it. and i was starting to doubt my love for my boys and that's shit because i'm still head over heels into them, i just can't show it atm (plus the rush of social media and the need to keep up and be of presence and all, this SUCKS BUT as a responsible adult now :'^) i have to get rl in order first, work is still a lot and will continue to be, moving is annoying as hell and really makes me wanna throw everything each and every day but we're getting there... slowly.)

so thank you so much, i really appreciate it T_T i will return and i will come back with fresh as hell art (i hope), until then, hope you are well, have a nice weekend ! <3

[sidesteppostinghours]

🟠+🟡 for an OC of your choice? c:

evening gabe :D! im answering both of these for ceci because shes been itching the back of my brain lately and i really wanna sort out her deal.

🟠 Orange- What is a trait your OC hides about themself from others? Do they refuse to acknowledge it or begrudgingly accept it?

shes calculating, apparently. i say "apparently" because its something i only discovered recently. its not something she actively hides, per se, its more that it just... doesnt come up? shes proactive, arrogant, and takes a lot of risks, so most people think shes gunning through life by the seat of her pants. thats really not the case, its just that she does her best thinking on the fly. as for how she feels about it, its sort of a "meh" thing to her. its useful, but she doesnt need to think her way out of problems– shes a fighterstep, after all. shes good enough to get out of anything if she really wants to.

🟡 Yellow- What is something your OC wants but knows they can never have? How does it feel to never get this specific desire?

ho. hohoho. so like. recently cecilia went from an argent rival to a herald rival. couple that with the hunger scar and you know shes got Thoughts on this. shes not mad about not being able to Have anything, shes mad that she cant keep it. i guess the closest thing i could describe it with is stability. everything always seems to slip through her fingers no matter what she does. compare that to herald, the asshole, who gets to have everything he wants and more and doesnt even seem like he has to work for it. oh boo hoo, he has to bat his pretty little eyelashes for the cameras once in a while, ok???? do you want a hankie for your heroic sacrifice. she is. Bitter about this. she does try to give herself some stability, or failproofs, where possible. its a little hard to tell since she wreaks so much havoc, but to her that havoc is peace, the smallest bit of power she can excercise with her situation being what it is.

questions from here!

[raytm]

knowing your partner can potentially make writing together a lot easier.

– BASICS.

✧ NAME: ray !!! ✧ PRONOUNS: he / him & they / them. ( sometimes ) ✧  SEXUALITY: ur local questioning pan - ace something. ✧  TAKEN OR SINGLE: single dad to 2 cats ( they aren't actually mine )

– THREE FACTS.

✧ i am adhd brain very chronically. i forget things alot, i bounce around alot ?? my attention span is always quite short ?? without my meds im pretty suire i would be an atom floating in space ?? i am also autistic so you can probably see the issue i have with both of these 2 things bbeating heads all the time. ✧ i am australian, we are real, i do not sound like an aussie but also apparently i do which is ??? ✧ i am 4'8 i am very small ic annoty reach aznything pls send a tall person to make my life signifantly easier.

– EXPERIENCE.

✧   HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?): i have been writing since fucking like before 2010. so a long ass time. ✧   PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: gaming websites, chatzy, discord, facebook, tumblr, random forums like rp.me idk what th at was about though. ✧   BEST EXPERIENCE: i meet alot of talented writers on tumblr so that's probably my best experience i think ?? i learn alot and get the chance to read some prettyt artistic writing and interesting hcs

– MUSE PREFERENCES.

✧   FEMALE OR MALE:i gravitate towards male muses ALOT but for some reason sparkle has got my by the throat rn. ✧  FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: i can and will writ4e all of these, i have a preference more towards angst & smut because fluff can become a little ?? meh after a while. but i do love me some domestics as a treat everynow and again. ✧   PLOTS OR MEMES: mermes mostly bc i suck ?? at plotting ?? so badly honestly i am allowed 1 thought every 100 hours and idk when that is coming tbh. so you can always ssend a meme in and we can continue it or just ?? slap me with ur muse like a fish. ✧   LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: i want to say usually 2-3 paragraphs but for some reason everytime i open google docs lately i end up writing 5-10 paragraphs which should be illegal. ✧   BEST TIME TO WRITE: after i take my adhd meds oml. usually morning - afternoon whyen the sun goes down so do it ✧ ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): idk maybe >??>>> i guess ??? i feel l;ike this is a querstion i shoudl ask someone who knows me better OFONFNDCXN

TAGGED BY: mpo tags ypoui take it from me <3