#commercial wall fan
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fansonlineaustralia · 5 months ago
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Why Commercial Premises Need Cutting-edge Ceiling Fans in Sydney?
If you are looking for modern fans, go to reputable internet distributors of advanced ceiling fans in Sydney to get a wide range of solutions for a certain environment, such as a dining room, outdoor area, or indoor space simply conduct an internet search for supporters.
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Anyone who is looking for a commercial wall fan can choose from a variety of fan solutions that are appropriate for their needs. They can select the quietest and most advanced fans designed for use in commercial and industrial settings from recognised fan manufacturers.
Their collection allows consumers to spend the full day in their living room without experiencing the heat of the outside. Several companies also offer desk or wall fans to help customers feel more comfortable at work.
Advantages of Purchasing Fans Online from Reputable Suppliers:
Respectable merchandisers have a solid reputation for supplying high-quality items and services to their consumers without exceeding their budgets.
Modern fans come with advanced techniques and convenience of internet purchase. Customers can browse a large selection of fans from the comfort of their own homes or businesses, which eliminates the need to travel to other sites.
In addition to ceiling fans, they sell architectural fans, DC motors, Milano fans, and other products. They typically carry energy-efficient fans to save energy costs and improve comfort in the study, kitchen, living room, and bedroom.
Reputable vendors are also knowledgeable about the features and styles of modern ceiling fans. When consumers want suggestions for styles that will look great in their region, they may be able to provide knowledgeable advice.
Overall, customers can shop with confidence knowing that every product they purchase has passed performance and durability tests because they are supplied by Australia's best fan brands.
Therefore, visit a trusted supplier after detailed research and read reviews to buy cutting-edge fans. Evaluate their customer services, compare pricing, and buy your desired fan at your convenience.
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electricallightinguae · 9 months ago
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It is essential to choose the right Electrical Components in the UAE for safety and performance reasons. If you are seeking the perfect industrial plugs and sockets, this article is a reliable guide. Continue Reading.....
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sunderwight · 2 months ago
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Shen Yuan with a Luo Binghe dakimakura is great but sometimes I stop and think about how a role reversal would have looked (i.e. Binghe as the reader who transmigrates in, Shen Yuan as the fictional character he was obsessing over) and oh my god. Fan Binghe who grew up with chronically online geek culture would have been next level in the absence of an actual, physical Shen Yuan/SQQ. Fan Binghe would have owned everything. He probably would have had to commission it all himself, either because the novel wasn't popular enough for the level of desired merch or because the mainstream commercially produced products were too cheap or flimsy or inaccurate for his specifications or probably both. Perfect hand fan recreations. Replica Xiu Ya (it's an actual sword) hanging on his wall. Fanart both done in a classical style (as in, 'what Shen Qingqiu might actually have hanging on his walls') as well as a variety of character portraits and erotic art zines. Printed and hand-bound copies of his favorite fanfics. Somewhere in China there's an amateur bookbinder who is making BANK off of this obsession, producing the most high level gorgeously bound copies of the filthiest smut and fluffiest hurt-comfort teacher/student fics.
Luo Binghe would be controversial in fandom because he is just as nitpicky and wank-y as Shen Yuan, with an extra dose of turning up in the comments sometimes to act like a jealous/possessive boyfriend accusing writers of being a little TOO lustful towards his unlikely waifu, but on the other hand he is rich and he will pay through goddamn nose for anything and everything that caters to his preferences. So a solid chunk of the fan creators just do things they think he'd like because they want in on the cash cow, while much of the rest of the fandom hates his guts because they feel like he hijacked everything with his own fanon and headcanons and obsessions. Shen Yuan isn't even that popular! Most of the rest of the fandom is kind of down on him as a cliche clueless danmei protagonist, they're all there for the score of blueballed love interests. Beautiful Liu Qingge and darkhorse Shang Qinghua and mysterious, tortured Yue Qingyuan and whatever the hell is going on with his evil doppelganger, Shen Jiu. Luo Binghe doesn't ever commission Shen Yuan with any of them, though! He's always solo, or maybe with a faceless tentacle monster or something!
It gets weird. There are probably Woman Buying Wonder Bread-esque memes about Binghe's highly specific kink commissions. On the other hand, Luo Binghe comes down harder than the actual artists on unsanctioned reposts because he commissioned Shen Yuan in that sexy lingerie fondling a really huge sword and it's not just for anyone to go around putting that up on whatever website they please!
He would own several dakimakura and they would arguably be more normal than a lot of the rest of his collection, is what I'm saying. He'd have them in different poses and seasonal outfits and versions that were acceptable for company and ones that had to get tucked into a drawer under the bed every morning because they were for Binghe's eyes only. And it wouldn't even just be the sexy ones, but also the ones where Shizun looks soft and fond and gentle and affectionate. The man was definitely working his way up to commissioning a lifelike Shen Yuan sex doll when the universe did absolutely everyone a favor and yeeted him into a transmigration scenario.
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corroded-hellfire · 10 months ago
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no bc cockwarming with older!eddie is soooooooo
Oh I agree 100%. It’s something I need in my life but I guess I’ll have to settle for only having it in writing. Older!eddie my beloved 😍
Warnings: older!eddie, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, m receiving, cockwarming, brat and brat tamer
Words: 3.3k
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Eddie was never a sports fan. Never interested him, never played nor watched. His needing to be home to watch a game had never been an issue you’d had to deal with in your relationship. So, when the day comes that Eddie is more focused on something that’s on the television than you, you’re not having it. 
It’s a Saturday night and the two of you had finished off the pizza that you’d ordered, and you’d gone to take a shower. Halfway through your time spent in the steam, you start to feel a little lonely and wish your boyfriend would join you. Calling his name a few times doesn’t seem to work, even though the walls are thin in his trailer. With a pout, you step out of the shower and wrap a fuzzy towel around your body. Still dripping little droplets of water on the carpet, you pad down the hallway to see where your man is. Nothing Else Matters is coming from the television, and you find Eddie sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand. You’ve heard enough Metallica through him to know that’s what’s on the tv, but you’re not sure what he’s so transfixed on.
“Whatcha watching, baby?” you ask.
His eyes flit briefly over to you before returning to the screen. “Metallica documentary.”
“Oh.” You take a few steps closer to the couch and cock your head to the side. “Didn’t you hear me calling for you?”
“Hmm? Oh, no. You okay?” Eddie’s words are very monotone. You don’t doubt that there’s real concern for you there, but he couldn’t sound less enthusiastic if he tried.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just wanted some company,” you say coyly. There’s no reaction from your boyfriend. Figuring you’ll make it plain as day for him, you drop your towel, leaving your naked body on full display. He turns his head towards you, his eyes staying on the television until the last moment, then flickering your way as well. Arching an eyebrow, Eddie pats his jean-clad thigh and looks back to the television. It’s not exactly the reaction you were looking for, but you’ll take it. 
You stroll over to him and perch yourself in his lap. His hands rest on your hips, but he tries to look around you at the television. Your gaze is trained on him, not quite a glare but only a skosh softer. Eddie either doesn’t notice the way you’re looking at him or he doesn’t care. So, you rest your hands on his shoulders and gently press your nails into his t-shirt covered skin, adding pressure bit by bit until he frowns and meets your eye.
“Ow, babe,” he says. “What was that for?”
“You haven’t looked at me once since I sat in your lap. Am I bothering you?” It’s hard to keep the snark out of your voice, even though you’re aware you sound like a petulant child.
“No,” Eddie says with a soft sigh. “I just want to watch this documentary. I haven’t seen it, and you know Metallica is my favorite.”
A groan tumbles from your lips as you drop your head forward and rest it on his shoulder. Cold water drips from your hair onto his neck, sending a shiver throughout his body.
“You want a blanket?” he asks. 
His words have you jolting upright and, this time, full-out glaring at him.
“You want me to cover up?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Eddie says, suppressing an eye roll – he knows it will only make it worse. “You just got out of the shower, aren’t you cold?”
“A little,” you say. “So warm me up.”
“Babe, this is over in an hour, can we just–”
“Fine.” You move to get off his lap, but his large hands keep you pinned in place. The overly cheerful voice of a woman trying to sell some new workout video comes from behind you and it makes you huff. “So now that there’s a commercial you’ll pay attention to me?”
“You’re being a real brat, you know that?”
Your eyebrows pull together as you frown at him. “I just want to get some lovin’ from my boyfriend.”
“Oh, baby,” Eddie says with a sigh. “So desperate for my cock, huh? Be a good girl then, get on your knees.”
With how fast and hard your knees hit the threadbare carpet in the living room, Eddie suspects you’ll either have bruised knees or rug burn. But you don’t seem to mind one bit as you stare up at him with wide, eager eyes. Your hands immediately fly to Eddie’s belt, and you’ve undone that and his zipper in the short few seconds it took Eddie to lift his hips so you could slide his jeans and boxers down. 
It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen it—or stroked it, licked it, sucked it, had it inside of you, etc—the sight of Eddie’s cock still gets you immediately wet. The promise of the pleasure that he’s going to bring you. 
Being eye level with Eddie’s semi-hard cock has you licking your lips in greedy anticipation. Not able to wait one moment more, you lean forward and wrap your hand around the base of Eddie’s cock. His pubic hair brushes against the side of your hand with every stroke.
You push yourself up on your knees so you can let some saliva drip down onto Eddie’s cock, making it easier for you to work your hand over it. A groan slips from your lips as you eye the bead of precum gathering on the tip.
As if based purely on primal instinct, you lean in and run your tongue flat over the head. Eddie’s thighs tense around your head as you savor the salty tang that coats your tongue. 
You’re tempted to tease Eddie but with him already accusing you of acting like a brat, he might not let you suck him off. It’s been the toughest torture you’ve ever had to bear when Eddie makes you watch him get off all on his own. 
Not willing to take that risk, you engulf the head of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. One of Eddie’s hands rests on the back of your hair, not pushing, just lying there. It puts enough weight on your head to make you sink a little further down on his cock.
“Good girl,” Eddie drawls out. 
The praise does nothing to help the wetness that feels as if it will drool down your legs any second. You bob your head, taking a little more of him in each time you go down. Tears annoyingly pool in your eyes and you blink a few times to get them to roll down your cheeks; nothing is going to distract you from giving Eddie the best head you can. Just as you’re about to take him into your throat, Eddie’s fingers dig into your hair, rings lightly scraping against your scalp, and he pulls you off of him.
A whine of protest reflexively flies out of your mouth at the loss. Your brain hardly has time to wonder why your boyfriend pulled you off of him before he tugs your head backwards so you’re looking up at him. His attention is not on you though, it’s back on the television that you hear once again playing music you recognize as Metallica’s. Eddie is looking straight ahead, not sparing you a glance as you pout up at him.
“Get up here,” he orders as he drops your hair. 
“What?” you ask. Using the back of your hands you wipe the tear streaks from your cheeks and the saliva that managed to leak out of your mouth. 
“Get. Up.”
You push yourself up on unsteady legs and Eddie groans in irritation as you block his view of the television. A strong hand grips your naked waist and pulls you forward until you’re tumbling into his lap. 
“Here’s what’s going to happen.” Eddie’s voice is low and husky, the dominance in it sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re going to sit on my cock and keep quiet until this show is over. If you’re good, maybe you’ll get rewarded. If you’re a brat, you can get yourself off tonight. Understood?”
“Yes, Eddie,” you reply, hardly above a whisper. 
Making sure to lean your torso to the side to keep out of his way, you straddle Eddie’s hips and reach behind you to line his cock up with your entrance. Slowly, you start to sink down on him, the initial stretch leading you to let out a low moan.
“Shhh,” Eddie chastises, never taking his eyes from the flickering screen behind you. 
Teeth gnash into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood to keep yourself from making any other noises. Tense fingers dig into Eddie’s black t-shirt clad shoulders as you fully seat yourself on his lap. After you’ve given yourself a moment to adjust, you start to lift yourself up again, but Eddie immediately slams you back down.  
A sharp whine is forced out of you, and you grip the cotton material of Eddie’s shirt in your fists.
“Wha—” you start to ask but Eddie cuts you off.
“You’re going to sit here, completely still. You’re not going to move around or make a sound.”
You drop your head forward and rest your forehead on Eddie’s shoulder as you let out a small whimper. This is pure torture. Being so close to everything you want, but not allowed to rock your hips to make the dream a reality. 
Metallica music continues to play behind you and when you glance up at the older man, he has his entire focus on the show. You almost slip up and let out an irritated groan, but you know you’ll regret it if you do. 
A few minutes pass by but it feels like an eternity as you just sit there, half listening to the loud metal music coming from behind you as you slump against Eddie’s body. Just as a song comes to an end and yet another journalist begins to talk on camera, Eddie’s hips shift, causing him to move inside of you. The unexpected jolt has you gasping and burying your face into Eddie’s neck.
“Relax, I’m just making myself comfortable,” he says. 
You highly doubt that but keep your thoughts to yourself as you try to calm your body down again. Eddie’s a little shit and you’d put money on this being only the first time he messes with you, looking to see how far he can push before you push back. Sure enough, just as you’ve let your guard down and let your mind wander, there’s a sharp smack to your ass. The sting makes you jump, and Eddie’s hands instinctively move to your waist to steady you.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “My hand slipped.”
He’s full of shit and you both know it. Eddie’s playing dirty now and you have to think of a counterattack. Anything too obvious and he’ll make both of you get yourselves off tonight, so it has to be subtle. 
Moving slowly so as to not interrupt his television time, you curl against his chest so he can feel it when you expand your lungs and let out a silent yawn against his neck. As you yawned though, there may have been clenching of your walls around his dick. You feel more than hear the growl that reverberates through his chest. Now when you bite your lip it’s to keep the smile off your face. 
You peer over at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall and see that this documentary should be over in about fifteen minutes. So close yet so far. The chill from your still wet skin is starting to settle in as well, which is going to make this quarter of an hour tick by even slower. 
Thankfully, the end of the show has some of the Metallica songs you’re more familiar with, so it gives you something to listen to while you wait for this test of wills to be over. With five minutes left you feel yourself getting antsy. Eddie just said until the documentary was over, right? Does that mean the second it’s done he’s going to start fucking you like you’ve been craving for what feels like hours now? Or will he be a prick some more and pretend like he doesn’t know what you’ve been waiting for this whole time. You’d place your bets on the second option. Eddie never turned down an opportunity to be a pain in the ass. 
The last song fades out and the show is over. You immediately sit up and look at Eddie with wide eyes. You did it. You had done what he asked of you and now you get your reward, right? Right? 
As nonchalantly as you’ve ever seen him, he raises his arms up over his head to stretch out his back and abdominal muscles. Usually, you’d take the opportunity to stare at his tummy when his shirt rode up, but with his cock literally inside of you it feels like a moot point. 
“Eddie,” you say. It’s not quite a whine, more like a poke—a nudge.
“Yes?”
He was going to drive you insane one of these days.
“It’s over, right?”
“It is.”
“So…?” you trail off.
“So, it was pretty good. Wish they had more metal documentaries like that.”
You’re two seconds away from putting your hands around Eddie’s throat—and not in the way he sometimes likes. 
“And I was good too, right?” You’re practically batting your eyelashes at him, and it takes Eddie a moment to compose himself enough not to laugh. 
“I guess you were.”
“So…” you drawl as you lean in to press soft kisses against the side of his neck. “Do I get my reward then?”
“What is it that you wanted, baby? Was it this?” Eddie rolls his hips up against yours and your eyes flutter closed at the feeling.
“Y-Yes,” you manage. “Need you, Eddie.”
“God, I love when you get all needy for my cock. Should I make you beg for it?”
He knows you will if he demands it. Eddie enjoys moments like this when he’s in full control, knowing you’ll do whatever he wants. That his cock drives you so wild that you become putty in his hands. It makes a nice change since in every other aspect of your relationship you have him wrapped around your little finger. 
“Please, please, Eddie,” you whine, fingers grasping at the front of his t-shirt. 
Eddie takes in your pouted lips and your widened eyes. He can’t help but smile at how utterly adorable you are; but somehow still the sexiest woman he’s ever met. 
“Alright, baby,” Eddie finally acquiesces. He reaches up and cups your cheek in his hand. Slowly and delicately, Eddie swipes his thumb right below your bottom eyelid. “Take what you want.”
The permission unlocks an energy reservoir you weren’t aware you had as you place your hands on Eddie’s shoulders for balance and push yourself up, almost letting his cock slip out. But at the last moment you lower yourself back down, the two of you moaning in tandem as he bottoms out again. You set a relentless pace as you begin to bounce on his cock. Eddie’s eyes hungrily watch your tits as they bounce along with you, providing your boyfriend with double the pleasure. 
“Fuck,” Eddie groans and drops his head back against the couch. Teasing you was definitely worth it with the way you’re taking his cock for all its worth. 
Your hands move up Eddie’s shoulder and slide around to tangle your fingers at the dark curls at the base of his skull. 
“This what you wanted, huh?” Eddie asks and pauses to catch his labored breath. He can feel how wet you are and that tells him this is exactly what your goal was. “Needed to have me deep inside of you.”
“So deep,” you mutter with a nod.
“Mm, what would you do without me, baby?” Eddie taunts, lifting his hands to massage your breasts. 
“God, I would die.”
Eddie chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Nobody could make you feel as good as I do. I know.”
“Uh huh,” you pant. 
Eddie notices your movements becoming slower, the strength draining from your body. Persistent woman that you are, you keep going, moving up and down to take what you want. One of Eddie’s arms snakes around the small of your back and the other comes up to cup your cheek.
“Hey, I’ve got you,” he says softly. Eddie turns to lay you down on the weathered couch and slides an old throw pillow beneath your hips. A loud whine of protest comes from deep in your chest when Eddie slips out of you as your positions change. “Love how desperate you get for me. Only me who gets to see you wrecked like this. So fuckin’ hot.”
As Eddie pushes himself back into your soaked, throbbing pussy your whines turn much more pleasurable. Your boyfriend holds onto the arm of the couch behind your head and uses the leverage to piston his hips. 
“Shit, shit, shit,” you cry.
“Too much?” Eddie teases, slowing his hips. “Should I stop?”
“Fuck, no.”
A cocky smirk grows on the older man’s face, a breathy chuckle coming from him at your vociferous reply. His hips pick up speed again, just as eager to please you as you are to be pleased. The arm that isn’t holding him steady against the couch runs over your tits, up your neck, and his fingers meet your lips. 
“Open.”
You let your jaw drop, letting Eddie slip his middle and forefinger into your mouth. Just as you did to his cock before, you swirl your tongue around the digits, the feeling of something in your mouth only making you feel that much fuller. Reluctantly, you let Eddie move his hand when he starts to pull away, but not before letting your bottom teeth gently graze against the pads of his fingers. 
Eddie’s hand dips down between your bodies and rubs tight circles over your clit. The added stimulation has your muscles tightening, that familiar buildup soaring in you. Your right hand clutches Eddie’s arm, the grip hard enough to leave bruises that will linger for the next few days. 
“Eddie, fuck.”
“That’s right. Cum for me, princess.”
“W-Wanna cum with you.”
He dips down and trails hot kisses from your chin, all the way down your throat. 
“You’ve been naked for the past hour,” he mumbles against your sweat covered skin. “Never mind how long I’ve been inside of you. You really think I’m gonna be able to last much longer? Come on, baby. Cum for me.”
The urging is all you need before letting your orgasm wash over you, back arching off the couch, and pressing your tits against Eddie’s shirt. The clenching and fluttering of your walls around him has Eddie following right after you, spilling into you and filling you up. Wanting to make sure you take every single drop, Eddie fucks his cum into you even after his orgasm begins to wane. 
The weight of Eddie’s body pressing on top of yours is exactly what you need in the moments as your bliss fades away. Contentment fills the both of you as you breathe together, both sweaty and satiated. Eddie uses the last of the energy he has left to lift his head and press a few kisses to your shoulder. 
“I love you,” you whisper, reaching up to move some of the hair that’s sticking to his face. “I’d apologize for being a brat, but it turned out to work pretty damn well.”
“You are a brat but I’m good at handling it,” Eddie says with a soft smile. “And I love you too.”
“I feel like I need another shower,” you say, your sticky skin feeling attached to Eddie’s.
He looks up at you with those doe eyes and a cocky smile.
“Want some company?”
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13uswntimagines · 3 months ago
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Safe Harbor (Alessia X Singer!R)
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Summary: R is a very famous singer at the end of a very long, very crazy tour. Alessia is there to take care of her.
Warmings: Established D/s dynamics. The use of Daddy, and Collars. No smut.
You knew that you were living a dream.
You knew that millions of people would trade everything to be in the position you were in. 
They would do anything to have stadiums scream their name and for their songs to play on the radio for the world to hear. 
You had been plucked out of obscurity after you unsuspectingly played a bar in Leeds in front of Ed Sheeran when you were 16. A year and a half later you had taken Billboard's Hot 100 by storm, broken the record for most weeks at number one by a new artist… twice, and you were opening for Taylor Swift’s 1989 tour.
That had just been the beginning. 
Now you were on your 3rd world tour, selling out stadiums for yourself, with one of the best-selling albums of all time. 
It was… crazy that a kid from Maidstone who barely had enough to eat growing up had thousands of people screaming your name every night, singing your lyrics back to you like they were anthems. 
Your music was raw, personal. Painfully autobiographical. 
Your fans picked apart every lyric, dissecting your words with obsessive precision. The heartbreak, the loss, the fear woven into every track—they clung to it like it was their story, too. Before You Go, Say Something, Thinking Out Loud—each song became a window into your soul. And they were desperate to see more.
It was why your first album had gone platinum overnight, and every album after it had debuted at number 1. 
They resonated with your honesty, and that’s what made people fall in love with it.
You had expected that part. 
What you hadn’t expected was that they hadn’t just fallen in love with the music—they had fallen in love with you.
The girl with the sunny personality, and the commanding stage presence. The girl who smiled brightly at every meet-and-greet, made them laugh at every interview, and always took time to meet fans, even after long days in the studio or on music video sets. They built you up as their idol, their friend, their fantasy. They flirted with you in meet-and-greets before you were 18 and treated you like you belonged to them. Like they were entitled to every part of you.
At some point, you became an enigma—Y/N Y/L/N, the nine-time Grammy winner. The infallible pop star. The face that was painted on the side of billboards, and smiling in Colgate commercials. 
At some point, just Y/n failed to exist to them, and you liked it that way. 
You did well to dodge their invasive questions, running interviewers around in circles, and answering fans with witty remarks to avoid answering. And over the years (and through 4 albums), you only got better at preventing the fans from learning anything of substance about your private life. The only glimpses they got were through your music, and you liked to keep it that way. 
You did your best to keep it that way.
The only time you let them get close, let the world peek behind the curtain, was during the piano set of your concerts. 
It was dubbed the surprise song set by the fans even though 2 of 3 songs never changed. It was where you sang your most emotional songs, and where you let yourself be vulnerable. Open. Real. 
Tonight was no different. Or at least, you were trying to convince yourself of that.
You sucked in a long breath, your fingers tracing the black and white keys as the final chords of Bruises echoed through the stadium, curling off the walls and over the crowd. Their energy buzzed around you, rolling like an ocean wave.
You could feel it crashing against your chest, adding to the adrenaline bubbling through your veins. 
You took another deep breath, the air catching in your throat as you tried to control your breathing enough so you could talk. So you could give your signature speech before revealing the night's surprise song. 
Maybe tonight was different. 
You felt more… exposed.
More… vulnerable. 
This year was nothing short of a whirlwind. Eighty sold-out shows across the U.S. in the summer, followed by another thirty in Europe and the UK. Three back-to-back number-one singles—no small feat—only knocked from the top spot after 18 weeks by Taylor Swift herself.
It was amazing and incredible and exhausting all rolled together. 
You dearly loved your fans, their passion, and their devotion, but you were drained. 
Your eyes slid closed, allowing the bone-deep weariness to cut through the buzz from the crowd for just a second as you pulled your fingers from the keys, briefly rubbing the leather braided bracelet around your wrist as you reset for the next song.
It was the closest thing you’d had to your girlfriend's touch in nearly 2 months, and it wasn’t nearly enough. One soft touch from her would make it all melt away. 
One touch and she would take away the burden of control that had plagued you since you started the tour. 
You would finally be able to let go and just be.  
There were only 6 songs left and then you would be with her, your lighthouse on rocky seas. Your anchor on stormy nights. 
You took another deep breath. 
It was the last show of an incredible year, and you had something very very special planned.
Something no one would see coming. 
Your eyes blinked open as the crowd noise dipped, and you painted your signature smirk on your face as you leaned back toward the mic. 
“So Wembley, how are we feeling?” You asked into the microphone, smiling widely at the roar from the audience that met you. “Fantastic,”
You brought your fingers to the piano, letting them dance delicately across the keys. They had no particular rhythm, though they were in the key that your surprise song would be in. 
You wanted to avoid giving the surprise away yet. 
“So you know, I was thinking about what song I was going to play tonight, trying to figure out which one would be the perfect end to such an amazing tour,” You couldn’t help the little laugh that left you as the audience got impossibly louder, cheering out an indistinguishable mix of song titles that you had yet to play on this tour. You paused for a long second, feeling their cheers only grow, popping your in-ear monitor out for effect. 
It was endearing really, how into it they got (especially when you found out that they had created an entire fantasy league about what version of your outfits you would wear and what songs you would sing). They made it easy to pretend like you were having the time of your life instead of fantasizing about what you would be doing in 40 minutes. 
You shook your head, popping the monitor back into your ear and your fingers returning to the keys, letting their chants fill you up, and drive you forward. 
“And I was talking to one of my favorite people,” You continued, starting to pick out a tune that was a bit closer to the song you were going to play. “Now you all know I don’t normally take requests, but this being the final night of the Eclipse World Tour, and with such special guests in the audience I couldn’t quite say no,” 
Your eyes instinctually found Alessia as you hit the opening chord, and though you could see her expression you could feel her gaze burning into you. 
Seeing through you. 
Even surrounded by people, her attention was the only one you craved. 
“It’s a song I haven’t played for a long time, so I’m going to need your help.” You continued, Never breaking eye contact with her. “Will you help me tonight Wembley?”
The crowd roared in approval, and goosebumps erupted on your skin at the sheer energy they projected at you. It filled your chest and fueled your fingers as you finally hit the signature piano riff that opened the song.
You flashed the crowd your signature smirk, all essence of yourself slipping beneath your on-stage persona. 
And when you opened your mouth to sing the first line; it felt easy. It felt right.
Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands 
Closed your eyes and trusted
Just trusted 
*****
Watching you perform was magic. 
It had always been magic. 
Whether it was a show in Wembley in front of 100,000 people, or one when you were small with a guitar the same size as you, Alessia had always been mesmerized by you. Even before the two of you were old enough to put names to what you were feeling. 
It didn’t matter that she had seen you play thousands (hundreds of thousands) of times, nor that this was not her first time attending one of the shows on this tour. 
She leaned forward on the barricade separating the VIP tent from the Floor sections as you began to play the piano break. 
“She’s incredible,” Leah said, leaning closer to Alessia to be heard above the crowd. “They’re eating out of the palm of her hand,”
Alessia hummed. “She is,”
The audience was glued to every move, every breath you took on stage. She was too, and so were all of her teammates. 
What made it even better was that you were hers, and she got to enjoy you from her favorite seat in the house. 
They hadn’t originally been slated to be in the VIP tent.
Viv had organized the tickets, picking an area on the 2nd balcony because they were the only ones left. Alessia had gone along with it, only mentioning to you that 800$ was crazy for a 2nd tier balcony ticket in passing.
You had sleepily agreed, cursing Ticketmaster and reminding Alessia of the 10-hour meetings you had endured when your fans crashed the site during pre-sale. You hadn’t said anything about it since, so she assumed you had forgotten. 
You did not forget. 
There had been a team waiting to escort them when they arrived, and you had made sure the tent was loaded with all of their favorites. You had also refunded the tickets, and given them away to 23 fans outside of the stadium. 
You liked to do things for her. It was a way for you to serve her even from a distance, and she enjoyed telling you how good you were afterward. 
She definitely had plans to do that tonight. 
She leaned forward on the barrier as you got to the final chorus. 
There was a reason this spot was always her favorite to watch the show from, and why she had been hesitant when they escorted her and her friends to the tent. 
They were close to the stage. Close enough that Alessia could see the cracks in your carefully crafted facade. 
She could see the dark circles under your eyes, and how your smile never met your eyes. She could see the slight curl of your shoulders, and how you kept twisting your bracelet tightly around your wrist. 
She could see the command you had of the crowd wearing on you, and just how in your head you were. 
All of her instincts told her to protect you. To wrap you up, and take the reigns so you could just exist without thinking. So you could submit and know that she would take care of you. 
And sure, her teammates had caught glimpses of the dynamic between the two of you, but you both liked to keep the heavier aspects to yourselves.
It was harder for her to do that when she had watched the toll this tour had taken on you, and knew just how close you were to being able to let go. 
“Is it just me or does she look shattered,” Katie asked as the song came to an end, the final note ringing around the stadium as your eyes once again closed and you sucked in air through your nose. 
Alessia didn’t take her eyes away from you. “Not just you,”
She followed the rapid rise and fall of your chest, and how your fingers silently fluttered over the keys before you began to play again. 
“She’s barely slept at all this week because of end-of-tour meetings,” Alessia continued as you began picking out a new tune. “And she’s been co-producing an album that comes out next month, so she’s barely had time to think, much less do anything else.” 
Leah hummed from her other side. “I’m just surprised you haven’t stepped in yet.” 
Alessia made a low sound in the back of her throat. 
It was… complicated. 
While Alessia had rules that you followed (even while you were on tour) to help protect both your physical and mental health, you both had boundaries when it came to your careers. 
She understood that you had responsibilities and that sometimes you had to prioritize work to make everything run smoothly. (She also secretly relished watching you in boss mode, knowing that you would be kneeling at her feet later.)
The agreement you had was that she would only interfere under 2 conditions. First, if you crossed the Limits the two of you had agreed upon years ago without communicating with Alessia first. Second, if you asked.
“Tonight I will,” Alessia said as your eyes opened and you leaned back towards the microphone, your fingers dancing along the keys.
“Since we have the incredible women of Arsenal in the audience tonight, I think there’s one more song we have to do before continuing the show,” 
The audience roared in response. 
Your smile was charming, even as your eyes danced vacantly across the screaming fans in the pit next to the small stage that held your piano. 
Alessia could imagine the edits that would be online later, the people swearing that your expression was solely meant for them. They would think the way you twisted your bracelet was to show them how much you liked the copies they wore. 
She shook her head. 
The chords under your fingers changed, shifting into another familiar tune. 
North London Forever 
Whatever the Weather
You pulled back from the microphone, tilting your head to the sky as the fans picked up the song all around you. 
The stage lights swelled around you, illuminating the crowd as they sang for you. Your fingers deftly played the background music for the song. 
She could understand why it was a tradition for you. Why you always added North London Forever to the last show of your tours, especially when you ended in London. 
And my heart will leave you never 
My blood will forever
Goosebumps erupted on her skin as the crowd of 100,000 sang the rest of the chorus, and pride swelled in her chest, replacing her worry for just a moment. 
You wouldn’t have done a sing along if you were too far gone. 
Your relationship was built on trust, and Alessia trusted that you were ok for now. She would step in when the show was over, and you were ready. 
****
“Thank you London,”
The final notes of Shut Up and Dance pounded through the stadium. 
You held your arms out wide, as if to physically soak in their cheers as the stage lights dimmed, leaving only one shining against your back, silhouetting you for the audience In a perfect replica of your album cover. Then everything went dark, and the platform you had been standing on lowered so you were under the stage. 
“Great show Y/n,” Your tour manager, Aubrey, said as you stepped off the lift, the crowd noise barely fading.
You nodded in response, your tongue suddenly feeling too heavy in your mouth to form words. it felt like you were trying to think through an old television with terrible reception, the images staticy and broken. Fatigue settled into your bones, heavy and cold. 
A soft robe was draped over your shoulders by one of the production crew, and you twisted the bracelet around your wrist until the edges cut into your skin.
You focused on the pain, letting it ground you as you put one foot in front of the other and allowed your team to guide you from beneath the stage. 
your security team flanked you the second you were out from under the stage, acting like a protective wall. 
“You need to rehydrate.” Steve, your head of security said, pressing a blue Gatorade into your fingers.
They instinctively closed around the bottle, and Steve nudged you again to get you to bring it to your lips. 
“Small sips kid,” Clint added from your other side, as the third member of your security team, Natasha, made eye contact with Steve
You tried to follow their directions, but your hands were shaking so badly you almost dropped the drink. 
You felt Powerful. 
You felt… floaty.
It was so… weird. It usually took you hours to come down from the high of a show, and devolve into… whatever this was. 
To finally give in and call your girlfriend for help. 
You had been… reluctant to bother her in the last few weeks. 
She had been busy with international friendlies, and you didn’t exactly like exploring your dynamic while you were separated. 
Dropping into sub space was hard for you on a good day, guided by Alessia‘s firm but comforting presence. Doing it while the two of you were doing long distance was a painful impossibility. 
The few times it had actually worked were misery for you. Like your brain was made of broken glass and no one was there to help you knit the fractured shards back together. 
Even with her voice on the other end of a video call, it had been brutal. 
You had put it off, and put it off, and now it seemed that your body wasn’t going to give you a choice. 
“I’ll be back.” Natasha said, turning on her heel as Steve shifted to shield you from the people buzzing around backstage. 
You didn’t even acknowledge her, blinking slowly as cling helped you bring the bottle of Gatorade to your lips. 
“Take deep breaths.” Clint said gently. “We have to get to the tunnel.”
You tried, but it was like you were under water, or sucking air through a straw. 
You were crashing, and you still had to face the public one last time before you could let go. 
You swallowed hard, forcing the fog in your brain away and your signature smirk on your face. 
It would satisfy the people waiting for you to make your way out from behind the stage and into the safety of the stadium halls, away from prying eyes.
“Let’s go.” You muttered, pushing the Gatorade back towards Steve. 
It took all of your strength just to utter the word, and you knew it would take every bit of mental fortitude you had to wave at the fans as you passed. 
But it was required.
It was the least you could do for the people who bought obstructed view seats. A thing you had done for every one of your other shows. A thing fans would absolutely notice if you didn’t do it. 
It didn’t matter how much you didn’t want to. 
“Let’s do it.” Clint agreed, positioning his hand on the small of your back, while Steve did the same on your other side. 
You straightened and squared your shoulders. 
You could do this one last act for your fans. Then you could let go. 
*******
“That show is incredible,” Beth said, leaning against the VIP barricade. “I don’t know how she runs around like that for 3 and a half hours,”
“A lot of cardio,” Leah shrugged. “She released a whole behind the scenes video of how she trained for the tour.”
“That video felt staged though.” Viv said. “She was very different then she usually is with us, or you Less,”
The English striker hummed. “She likes to keep separation between her professional life and her private life.” 
“Makes sense.” Katie agreed. “Did you see how many people had braided bracelets in all different colors?”
“I did.” Alessia nodded, her eyes trailing across the area near the stage, looking for your personal assistant. “But they have no clue what hers actually means. You all know her, but the fans just know the idea of her. It’s easier to keep it all separated.” 
It was strange that she hadn’t seen your assistant yet. That she hadn’t come to retrieve her and the team. 
Chloe was usually waiting at the VIP tent to take her backstage before the last fireworks of the show had even finished. 
It had alarm bells swirling in her brain. 
“It’s kind of amazing how confident she is on stage.” Beth agreed. “It’s like she’s 2 different people.” 
“Sometimes she is.” Alessia trailed off spotting a different redhead coming around the stage. Your security instead of your assistant. 
It was hard to wrap her head around the dichotomy between your loud, confident persona on stage and the quiet girl she knew you were, and as your career grew, that difference had only gotten larger. 
Her eyebrows furrowed as Natasha approached them, nodding towards her friends before meeting her eyes. “I need to borrow you, please,”
Katie whistled. “Get it Lessie,” 
“Gotta get that post concert energy out,” Kyra snickered, and the tear erupted into laughter behind her. 
She shot a glare towards her cackling team. “Of course,”
Natasha was a part of your personal security. She didn’t need words to convey that you needed Alessia, and you needed her now. 
“Alone please,” Natasha said, her eyes flickering towards the girls who tried to exit the tent with Alessia. 
The laughter stopped around them, and Alessia nodded once, turning back towards the team. 
“We’ll catch up with you lot tomorrow?” Alessia said, authority that the team rarely heard leaking into her tone. “We can do lunch, or maybe Dinner.” 
Leah stepped forward and nodded, knowing this was not the time to argue with her. “Tell y/n thank you for the tickets and that we send our love,”
“Go take care of your superstar,” Beth nodded towards Natasha.
“I will,” Alessia nodded, stepping out of the tent. 
She meant it. 
You had taken care of yourself for most of the tour. It was her turn now. 
******
You didn’t remember how you got to your dressing room. You didn’t remember waving to the fans, smiling widely and sending them hand hearts. 
one second you were backstage, and then you blinked and Steve was gently closing the dressing room door behind you. 
You paced the room, pushing the dark robe off of your shoulders. You didn't know what to do with yourself. 
It was too warm and too cold. The dress shirt you wore on stage was too soft and too scratchy. Your mind was racing too fast and moving too slow all at once. 
your breathing hitched, and you brought your trembling fingers of one and to your lips to prevent the sobs threatening to bubble out. The other tugged useless at your collar, trying to get air. This was not normal. It was rare you dropped, let alone this hard or this deep. 
It was like quicksand, sucking you into the chaotic spiral deeper, faster, with more force the more you tried to fight it. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, and your brain was going to rip itself apart trying to untangle them. 
You were in free fall, plummeting faster than you ever had before with no net to catch you. You had put it off for too long, and now you had no choice.
You knew you needed to do something, but making the decision of what you should do felt impossible. 
You were done making decisions for the foreseeable future. 
The sound of the door clicking open and shut again was nearly drowned out by the buzzing in your ears, but you Instinctively turned towards the presence that entered. 
The air shifted around her as she stood in front of you like a mirage, immediately capturing all of your attention. For just a split second, your racing thoughts went quiet, and you were wholly consumed by her presence. It crackled like a warm fire on a cold day, or like a lightning storm over the sea. You couldn't decide. 
You didn’t want to decide. 
And you knew you didn’t need to. 
Alessia- No, your Daddy was here and she would take care of everything. 
Her gaze swept over you, taking in every twitch of your fingers against the buttons of your shirt, and the tremble that snaked its way across your shoulders and down your spine. You felt naked, despite the clothing scratching at your skin. 
She crossed the room in 3 long strides, her hands catching your wrist before you even registered that she had moved. 
”That’s enough, little one.” She said, keeping her voice gentle despite the command clear in it. “You’ve done so well, and I’m so proud of you, but I’m here now.”
She carefully unwound your fingers from here they were tearing at your shirt, placing them on her hips before deftly undoing the buttons. “I’ve got you. Just take deep breaths for me, love,” 
You tried, but it felt like it was stuck in your throat, trapped by the inhuman sound now bubbling past your lips. 
She carefully slid the thin material of your shirt from your shoulders, and you met her eyes. 
The sob you’d been holding in finally broke free, your knees weakening as the weight of it all hit you. But before you could completely crumble, Alessia’s arms were around you, pulling you into her chest. Her scent, her warmth, everything about her surrounded you like a safety net.
Her fingers tangled in your hair, and she rested her cheek on the top of your head. “You’ve done so well, you can relax now. I’m here with you and I’m not going anywhere,” 
Her other hand ran soothing circles on your back, easing the prickles on your skin like the world's best Aloe. “Just breathe, love.”
Her comforting touch seeped past your skin, settling deep into your bones. It eased the knotted panic in your chest, and dulled the sharp, frantic edges of anxiety that raced through you. 
“That’s it little one,” She cooed, her grip on your firm and unyielding. It was tether to reality. An anchor in the crashing storm that was your mind. A lifeline when you were being pulled beneath the tide.
“You’re safe. You’re here with me, and I will always keep you safe. Just relax,”
Her voice was as steady as her grip on you. Commanding in a way that couldn’t be ignored, but soft enough that it didn’t bristle your sensitive instincts. It was a mixture that only Alessia seemed to be able to achieve. A tone she could modulate to perfectly match the situation. 
You melted into her chest, nodding weakly as your tears slowed. Your entire body shuttered with each inhale, and hitched with each breath you blew out. 
You were moving past the uncomfortable phase of the drop where your brain felt like a shattered glass mirror, fractured and sharp, and into the lapping warmth that only Alessia seemed to be able to bring you. 
Alessia’s hands continued their slow, comforting path up and down your back, her breath even and calm, giving you a rhythm to sync your own to. 
“That’s it, little one,” she hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re such a good girl for me. You’ve done so well. Just let it all go.”
You whimpered. 
It felt too raw, too exposed. But Alessia knew—she always knew.
Her fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet her gaze. Her eyes were soft, but her tone left no room for argument.
“Look at me.” She said, using a finger to gently tilt your chin up. “You’ve done so well being in charge. You’ve run this entire tour, and made so many people happy. I’m so proud of you, but you can let go now. Let me be in charge for a little while,” She capped the statement with a gentle peck to your lips. 
You tried to lean in to continue the kiss, but she pulled away. 
“Later,” She promised, and you nodded once, sinking back into her chest. 
You understood that she didn’t like to start anything while you were like this unless it was well discussed beforehand. While there was any chance that you couldn’t consent, or feel like you could remove consent. 
You weren’t sure how long she stood there and held you, rocking gently from side to side and scratching your scalp. Long enough for the storm in your chest to mellow and for your brain to slowly begin knitting itself back together, grounded in the gentle pressure of your girlfriend. Your daddy.
“Let’s get cleaned up and then we can go home,” She said, when you pulled back enough to look at her. “Do you want your collar?” 
you nodded against her chest, kissing gently under her chin. 
“I need a verbal response, little one,” She said, dominance leaking into her tone to help you wade through the thick fog coating the crevices of your brain. 
It took you a long second to think of the words, and another to push the fog in your mind back enough to actually verbalize them. 
“Yes Daddy,” You said, frowning at how horse and garbled your voice was. 
she hummed, carefully maneuvering you back towards the door. One hand stayed securely wrapped around you as the other reached into the bag you hadn’t seen her enter with and pulled out your soft, brown leather collar. 
You hadn’t seen it since you left for tour, and just the sight was almost enough to send you back into a drop. 
“Easy,” Alessia murmured, guiding you towards the couch that existed in all of your dressing rooms. She sat you on the edge, and kneeled in front of you so she was slightly shorter than you. 
She trailed her hand down your arm to the bracelet around your wrist, carefully unclasping it and tucking it into her pocket. She then brought the soft leather of your regular collar to your neck, gently buckling it closed, making sure it wasn’t too tight. 
Your shoulders immediately relaxed, the full weight of her claim settling on you. 
“Let’s get cleaned up,” She said, catching your hand and standing you up. You went with her easily, leaning your weight on her as she led you to the bathroom. 
The way she undressed you both and got you settled into the warm water of the shower was familiar, routine even. 
You could feel yourself settling as she washed your hair, and cleaned your body of the sweat from the show. 
She touched you like you were delicate, but not like you were fragile, and it was everything you needed to wade back to reality. 
By the time she was using a towel to dry you off, and slipping one of her old UNC sweatshirts over your head you felt almost like yourself again. Your thoughts didn’t hurt anymore, and you were more grounded then you had been. 
“Kneel for me,” She said softly, settling herself on the couch, and placing a pillow at her feet. 
You hummed, and did as she asked, letting her guide you to lean back on her legs. 
You sunk into the warmth of her sweatshirt, surrounded by the scent of her perfume as she toweled off your hair and braided It for you. 
The rhythmic movement of her fingers through your hair and the feeling of safety and Alessia that encompassed you were enough to have your eyelids drooping. 
You blinked heavily at the knock that sounded on the door, and the blonde head of your head of security poking his head in. 
Steve didn’t look at you, steadfastly keeping his eyes on Alessia. “Miss Russo, we have the car ready whenever you are ready to leave.” 
“Thank you, Steven,” She said softly, authority still dripping from her tone. “We’ll be out in a few minutes,”
He nodded and closed the door quietly as he exited. 
“You’re all done, little one,” Alessia said, rubbing gentle circles in your shoulders, as you leaned further into her, your eyes sliding closed without your permission. 
They only opened when she shifted behind you, and you turned to look at her sleepily. 
She smiled gently at you, unable to stop herself from leaning in and pressing a quick peck to your lips. 
This was her favorite version of you, soft and sleepy, unguarded and completely trusting. It was the version that only she got to see, and she was honored that you had chosen her to be your safe place. 
”Alright little one,” She said, her finger hooked into the O-ring at the front of your collar, tugging lightly as she stood. “Let’s go home,”
479 notes · View notes
pinkie-quinns · 1 month ago
Text
rocker eddie/actor steve | exes to lovers | fame au p6 (final part)
p1 p2 p3 p4 p5 interlude
Steve thinks about second chances, as he walks along Greenwich Ave. He thinks about them when he tosses the wig in a garbage can that reeks of puke. 
And he thinks about them, when Eddie opens the door, eyes catching on the rip in Steve’s jeans, the liner under his eyes. When he lights up & says, “You came.”
Yeah, Steve thinks about second chances.
He offers Eddie a small smile as he walks in, can’t bring himself to acknowledge it all. The world of them. Him going. Eddie playing that song.  What that could mean, like, actually mean. Can’t do it yet.
He likes this place better than the mansion in LA. It’s messy and grungy with stupid, corny shit plastered on the walls. Feels more… Eddie.
They walk out to the balcony. It overlooks a tiny little green space, his neighbors’ homes. Eddie lights a cigarette and offers one to Steve. Steve quit years ago. Eddie knows that now. He takes it anyway. 
“Last tour I sold out Madison Square Garden and now I sell out Forest Hills.” Eddie’s chuckling, “Like I’m back at the trailer park.”
Eddie’s third album didn’t do the numbers his first two had. So they’d downsized, just a little.
Steve sighs, he didn’t fly all the way out here to coddle his ex, “It was a good show, Eddie.” 
“Yeah.” He drags, smiles to himself. “It was a really good show. I’m really glad you saw it, baby.”
Steve cringes, full body shiver. Eddie doesn’t seem to realize what he said, Steve’s sure as hell not gonna clue him in.
“How’d your meeting go?”
Steve tries to play it off. “Good. Pretty good.”
Eddie chuckles again, leans into him that way he always does, like personal space is more of a suggestion than a boundary. A hand brushes his cheek, a light, teasing tap of knuckles, “What’s pretty good, Harrington?”
Steve smiles into it. Can’t help it. “There’s uh… you know that blacklist script I mentioned last month? There’s probably a lead there for me.”
Eddie lights up again, bright and true, “Steve, that’s amazing.”
Steve snorts, “Not jealous?”
“Nah, I’m happy for you ba-” Eddie catches it this time, chokes on his drag, coughs and flounders, “Happy for you, man.” 
Steve’s not sure if he can do this, actually. Can’t face this Eddie. The one whose ego isn’t a storm cloud, who’s okay failing, who’s okay seeing him succeed. Who’s honest and sincere and wants the best for him. Eddie who would lose thousands of fans just to sing Steve’s favorite song. 
Eddie’s eyes are shiny, “But you’ve been good?”
“Yeah, yeah. Good. Keeping busy. I filmed an Amex commercial. Good money. Made my agents happy.” He’s rambling around it. He squints into the dark, drops it casually as he can muster. “I’m gonna start seeing that country singer, probably. The one with that Kansas song? Our people are setting something up.”
Eddie’s face falls, the sun out with a sentence. “What are we doing here, Harrington?”
Steve’s tone is bleary, sheepish, “What?”
“Been losing my mind this last month. Can’t stand not having you around. But you- you’re dating?”
It’s a shrug, it’s all he's got, “Sure.”
Eddie’s hunched, shoulders tight. He talks small. “You told me you loved me. Before you left.”
Steve huffs a breath. The air is cold. “C’mon. You were like, obliterating my brain with your dick. I say impulsive shit like that all the time.”
He doesn’t. They both know that. 
Eddie clicks his teeth, shakes a whisper. “Nah. You don’t.”
Steve falters, trips on his tongue. He finds his voice low and hoarse, he can barely say it, “Please don’t hold me to it.” 
Eddie won’t look him in the eye. He blinks up at the sky, “I love you. For the record. I um, I never stopped. Guess I’ve been pretty obvious about it.”
“Eddie, c’mon. Don’t do this. It’s not fair.”
“Date Dorothy.” His laugh is glacial. “I don’t mind. It won’t be real, right? Those things never fucking are.”
“I don’t know– it could be.” The ground’s falling under Steve’s feet. “Down the line, or whatever.”
Something cracks, crumples. “I had you. God fucking damnit. I had you and I–”
Steve’s not expecting the sobs until they happen. Flemmed and shaky and pathetic. Those brown eyes silver-wet like moons. 
Eddie pushes his palms into his cheeks. “Sometimes, after you leave, I just stare up at the ceiling and try to invent like, time travel or something. Just to go back and slap the shit outta myself. I was a goddamn coward. Couldn’t face it. Could talk around it, sure. Write it into my songs like that was honest. But, nah, I couldn’t look in the mirror. Definitely couldn’t look at you. I’m facing it now. I need you to know that. It won’t fix all shit I did, won’t fix the stupid fucking way I tried to fix it the first time. It’s there, it’s out, hell, it’s goddamn double platinum.” He sputters it out miserable, “But I am trying. Even if this– if we can’t. Need you to know I’m facing it now. I want to be better.”
Then Eddie looks right at him, looks at Steve like looking is enough to break his heart. “And I don’t wanna be selfish anymore cause it’s poison, Steve. But fuck. I know I don’t deserve it but if you’ll have me, I’ll– I’m there. Whatever way you’ll take me.”
“Eddie.” Steve doesn’t know why he’s here. Why he keeps digging this wound, ripping out stitches.
“Please? Can’t walk away again. Don’t have it in me.”
“Yeah.” Steve laughs. “You only do that when it’s easy.”
Eddie flinches. Shoves a ringed hand into a pocket. “Too late, huh?”
Steve scratches the back of his head and turns on his heel, “We can’t keep doing this.”
He gets as far the kitchen. Eddie quicksteps in front of the counter, blocks his out. But he’s cowering, ducking his head. “Did you um, like the song?”
It swells up all at once, that bone-deep cruelty of it. A gust turned tsunami. “Not really, Ed. Kinda broke my fucking heart.”
“Shit,” Eddie clicks. “Yeah, I, um, I’m not all that good at the grand gesture thing. Probably should have figured that out by now.”
Steve lets it all in. The red that’s been thrumming through his body since this whole thing started. Lets it possess him. He pushes into Eddie’s space, callous and cruel. “You’re really fucking me up, here. Do you know that?”
“I– I’m not trying to.” Eddie blinks. Frustratingly earnest. 
“What we’re doing– Whatever this is. It makes me feel pathetic. I’d be the dumbest asshole on the planet if I took you back.” He’s screaming now. The balcony door is still open. He doesn’t care if anyone hears. He wants them to hear.
Eddie’s lip is shaking. “I’m sorry.”
“I hate you.” Steve murmurs. The red’s coming off in whisps, quicker than it ever had, easier than it should. 
Eddie’s smile is weak. His face is wet. “I know.”
“You ruined me.” He leans in, finds half a punch in it. Last one he’s got. 
Eddie closes his eyes, brow furrowed. “I know.”
“I don’t want anyone else.” He’s tired. Bone tired. Tired of the ache that only ever seems to go away around, well–
Eddie’s guilt is plain. It's all of him. “I’m sorry.”
Steve takes a breath. He thinks about second chances.
“You really want to be with me?”
Eddie looks at him like he’s already burrowed in. Ribs and guts and blood. “Got my priorities way out of whack for a minute there. Jesus, way too many minutes there. But yeah. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.  You’re it for me, Stevie.”
Steve groans, taps his forehead lightly against a shelf. Eddie’s hand lands steady at his arm, awkward and cautious and right. “I’m a fucking idiot.”
“No.” Eddie says soft. “You’re not.”
“Yeah, I am.” Steve shakes his head. Waves a finger into Eddie’s chest. “You sang Dave fucking Matthews.”
“Don’t remind me, man. They’re gonna start shattering my CDs.” He pauses, sincere as ever. ‘I, uh, wouldn’t take it back though.”
Steve groans again, presses his head into Eddie’s shoulder. “No, you don’t get it. You sang Dave Matthews and now I’m gonna have to call my team and tell them it’s not gonna happen with the country singer.”
Eddie blubbers, big Saturday morning cartoon recalibration. “You’re– what?”
Steve shrugs, catches his eye. “Now I’m gonna have to talk about my coming out journey with Angie at People and dude, she’s been on my ass about it for years. Total sore winner.”
He’s shaking his head, “Harrington… Steve. Stevie.”
But Steve keeps rattling on, “I’m gonna have to tip off the paparazzi that Dark Pines star Steve Harrington was spotted sneaking into Eddie Munson’s brownstone at midnight for a secret rendezvous. Gonna have to go for a jog around the block first thing tomorrow, with like, more hickeys than a teen who just got their first girlfriend.”
“You’ve really thought about this, huh?”
Eddie’s back pushes into the edge of the kitchen counter. And Steve thinks about that photo that forced them together again, about Eddie’s easy grin, about the soft adoration high on his cheeks, about never being so young. He thinks about fucking up and growing up and growing apart and changing. And he smiles against chapped lips that taste like cigarettes and coming home.
And he says, “Gonna have to find someone to give me the hickeys.”
And Eddie lights up like the sun, “I know a guy.”
And Steve, well, he thinks about second chances. 
281 notes · View notes
rebelliousneferut · 4 months ago
Text
long-distance misunderstandings | jude bellingham x verstappen!reader
summary; a compromising photo that poses a threat to your relationship with jude
genre; angst, fluff
face claim; annie schröter
note; english is not my first language.
as soon as i saw the photo i knew i had to write something about it
masterlist!
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
wagsgossips
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liked by y/nverstappen, yourbestfriend, footballwags and others
wagsgossips the 21 y/o real madrid star was seen last night in california in the company of his england teammate trent alexander arnold. but it was not that that caught our attention, but his closeness with a girl whose identity we still do not know.
jude bellingham has been in a romantic relationship with y/n verstappen, the younger sister of the triple world champion in formula 1.
are there problems in paradise? follow me so you don't miss any news
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y/njudefans you are creating drama where there is none. it is a simple photo and we don't know the context behind it.
username he is a footballer, that already makes him a cheater
username i agree
vertappenssource was max's warning not clear enough?
username i saw it coming, she deserves better
username poor y/n:( i always thought she looked more in love than him
username for god's sake, stop assuming things and creating meaningless gossip
sunshine streamed through the window of our shared madrid apartment, casting a warm glow on everything it touched. except me. my phone, usually buzzing with life, lay silent on the coffee table. the cheerful chirping of birds outside mocked the turmoil brewing within me. a single picture, a single stolen moment, had shattered my world.
jude was in california for a commercial shoot. missing him terribly, i was holding down the fort back in madrid. social media, my usual source of joy, had become a minefield. a gossip page had exploded with a photo: jude, seemingly handsy with a random girl at a party. the caption screamed betrayal. my phone had become a vessel of concern, overflowing with messages from worried friends and fans.
"he wouldn't do that," i whispered, denial laced with a sliver of doubt. i knew Jude. i knew his loyalty, his unwavering love and i knew how harmful the networks could be. yet, the photo gnawed at me, a seed of suspicion taking root.
i decided to take my phone, just because i knew how worried my brother would be until now and i had to talk to him. and almost as if he read my mind, a video call from him came in
"hello liefje," he muttered, almost as if he was expecting me to explode at any moment. "i know how things may look right now, talk to jude before you do anything rash, you know how the media is."
"I know, it just took me by surprise. and I'm not going to lie, it hurt me a little but i know there is an explanation behind it." i told him, even though it wasn't a compromising photo, seeing him so close to another woman had made me think.
"in any case, let me know and i'll go beat him up." max answered me, pretending to hit his fists which made me genuinely laugh.
after talking to max for a while i felt calmer, but i still knew that i had to talk to jude, who i had not responded to for hours because i knew that my feelings were going to betray me.
days bled into one another. calls from jude went unanswered, my voicemails a silent plea for explanation. the silence stretched, a suffocating weight on my chest. i retreated into myself, a fortress of hurt and confusion.
then, the door creaked open, shattering the suffocating silence. jude, his face etched with worry, rushed in, his arms outstretched for me. i flinched, the photo flashing in my mind.
"where have you been?" he sighed, relief washing over his features. "why haven't you been answering my calls?"
his voice, laced with concern, chipped away at the walls i'd built. tears welled up in my eyes, a torrent threatening to burst. i thrust my phone at him, the photo accusingly displayed on the screen.
jude's brow furrowed in confusion as he looked at the picture. understanding dawned, followed by a wave of frustration.
"baby, i know what this looks like, but she was there for a photo. the media just took everything out of context, i would never be able to lie to you, you know." shame colored my cheeks.
"i should have called you," he admitted, his voice laced with regret.
i reached out, taking his hand in mines. "i should have trusted you," i whispered, the words heavy with unspoken hurt.
the silence that followed wasn't suffocating anymore. it was filled with the promise of a new beginning. we spent the night talking, clearing the air, the misunderstanding dissolving in the warmth of shared apologies and renewed trust.
the next morning, i woke up to the gentle sunlight and the feeling of jude's arm wrapped around me. he pulled me closer, his lips brushing against my ear.
"maybe next time, we travel together," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper.
i smiled, a genuine one this time. "no more long-distance misunderstandings," i agreed, snuggling closer.
the internet storm eventually subsided, replaced by messages of support and well-wishes. our love story, a little richer for having weathered a storm, continued, a testament to the power of communication and trust.
judebellingham uploaded to their story;
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[caption; my one and only]
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blueskittlesart · 3 months ago
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did u not like totk?
i LOVED totk. i think it was well-written and did its job as a sequel to botw very well. HOWEVER. i do think it suffered slightly from the commercial success of botw. as i mentioned in my last post, nintendo does this. thing. when one of their games gets popular where every game after it has to be Exactly The Same so they can make all the money in the world via comparison marketing. (and this is a problem with the wider game industry in general but also a very observable pattern in loz specifically.) I know it's been a pretty long time since botw came out, but before (and immediately following) its release there was some pushback from longtime fans who worried that the open-world and lack of traditional dungeons meant that the game had strayed too far from the classic formula that makes a game a "zelda game." this is to say, botw was EXPERIMENTAL. and the devs had no idea if what they were doing was going to be successful or not. the open-world of botw wasn't a gimmick, and it wasn't the devs jumping on the open-world bandwagon. it was what CREATED that bandwagon. the open-world was a deliberate choice made specifically for botw because it reinforced the story that botw was designed to tell. the game is about exploring a desolate world, about making connections, and rebuilding both the broken kingdom and the player character's shattered sense of self by traveling and learning and building relationships. a large open-world map with only minor quest guidelines and lots of collectibles and side quests lends itself perfectly to this specific story, which is specifically about exploration and rebirth.
the problem is, botw was. almost TOO good. it was so good that every other game company on the planet started scrambling to build giant open-world maps into their next release, regardless of how much sense that actually made narratively. and because of that, when it came time to release a sequel to botw, the devs had a lot to think about. they had HUGE shoes to fill in terms of fan reception, but they were ALSO being asked to follow up one of the best-performing games of all time, commercially. totk needed to SELL as well as botw. And, likely because nintendo was worried about that potential commercial value, totk needed to keep people comfortable. I don't know for certain, but I definitely get the feeling playing totk that the devs were specifically told not to stray too far from what made botw marketable and successful--that being the open world and the versatility of gameplay. so in order to follow that up, they made... 2 more huge open maps, and new gimmick gameplay which was explicitly super-versatile.
do i think that the extra maps and ultrahand were BAD choices? no. however, i don't think they necessarily ADDED anything to the game as a narrative whole. one of my favorite things about botw was how everything seemed to be designed AROUND the narrative, with gameplay elements slotting neatly into the story thematically. totk just. didn't really have that, imo. there wasn't a huge narrative benefit to the gigantic, completely unpopulated depths and sky maps. ultrahand was cool, but within the context of the story it meant basically nothing. in some ways, i almost think totk could have benefitted from a much more linear approach to its storytelling, a la skyward sword, because there are a lot of story beats that have to be found in chronological order in order to have the right emotional impact, but because of the nonlinear open-world it kind of became a struggle to hit all the important story points in the right order. an easy example of this is the dragon's tears in comparison to the memories--the dragon tears have a very specific set order in which they happen, and finding them out of order can make the story you're seeing in them feel confusing and disjointed. the order in which they should be found is technically displayed on the temple wall, but most players aren't going to pick up on that or follow it--more likely, they're just going to explore the geoglyphs as they come across them organically, and therefore will likely witness the story in a completely disjointed way. compare this to the botw memories, which ALSO technically have a set order--the order in which they're displayed on the sheikah slate. however, because they're largely just small moments in time, and not one continuous story, finding them out of order has a lot less of an impact on how you as the player experience the narrative, and it's not hugely detrimental to your experience of the story if you find them naturally as you explore rather than explicitly seeking them out in order. If TOTK had been allowed to deviate from the botw formula a bit, i think we may have ended up with a more cohesive game in terms of narrative beats like that. as it is, i just think the game is torn slightly between wanting to be its own new game with new gameplay and needing to be botw, if that makes sense.
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dynamic-swap-au-archive · 7 months ago
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just for fun, here's all of the gay parts of 2d's private journal, aka the official lyric booklet for the gorillaz album "The Now Now" (written in character from 2d's perspective)
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1: humility's pages, featuring a page with a messy heart and scribbled and underlined words that read "see the state I'm in." as well as the opposite page underlining "I don't want this isolation" and adding the additional line "I see the state of you now."
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2: the page between hollywood and kansas, that has "my soul" written in one corner and a picture of murdoc with his face scribbled out in the other
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3: the pages for kansas: one repeating the text "Am I incapable of healing the memory of my fall from grace in your heart," and the other scratching out "I don't want to cry" to replace it with "I'm not gonna cry"
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4: the page between idaho and lake zurich, featuring the word "selfish" in one corner and a picture of murdoc's face scribbled out and (seemingly) surrounded by hearts in the other
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5: the page for magic city having text that reads "About us? About you!"
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6: the pages for fireflies: one modifying the lyrics to read "Sometimes I follow a firefly; He takes me into the night baby," and the other page having a note that reads "you = are/were = everpresent"
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7: pages in the break between lyrics that feature a torn free murdoc sticker, and a note in the corner that reads "where have you gone"
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8: pages in the break between lyrics with notes that read "you gotta have fate" and "I'm sorry too"
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9: the page for souk eye with a doodle of two people in a car on the road and (what appears to be) a robot shark (both reminiscent of the stylo music video, referencing murdoc and 2d being in the front seat of the car, and the car later turning into a robot shark at the end), and notes emphasizing the lines "I will always think of you" and "I'm a renagade"
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Additional Notes about the album and surrounding media !
1: the souk eye live visual. these were the visuals created for the song, intended to be projected during concerts. the live visuals for souk eye heavily feature footage of murdoc (from phase 3, 4, and 5). both calling back to phase 3 (like the book had done) And seemingly stitching together a narrative of murdoc breaking out of prison (interspersing footage of murdoc driving from a phase 4 commercial with police chase footage)
here's a fan recreation of the visuals:
2: both interviews and the free murdoc chat confirmed that the album was written (by 2d) About murdoc, and most probably because of his incarceration
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3: pages from 2d's private journal being scattered on a desk in murdoc's winnebego. particularly "I am an island" and what appears to be the modified lyrics for firefly (featuring "he"). likewise, murdoc has appeared to have framed 2d's booty shorts from the humility mv and hung them up on his wall.
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Bonus: my playlist of visuals for the now now
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doodler16 · 2 months ago
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If you asked me during the hazbin hotel pilot era who my favorite character was, it be Alastor 100%. He unironically stole the show with his mystery (if the pilot didn’t have Vaggie lore dump unnecessary I would’ve enjoyed a bit more), personality, voice, charisma, and heck even his design especially his consistent smile intrigued me. Even the way he interacted with the entire cast made me excited.
So what do I think of Alastor now? Alastor to me is a loser, unironically an attention whore in terms of screen time and merch, an egotistical, petty person, and a man child edgelord. He lost most of his mystery and charisma throughout the show (though I will admit I am interested in his backstory but I won’t be surprised if he, himself has daddy issues. And, I did find some of his jokes funny).
The pilot portrayed Alastor as this powerful overlord who didn’t care about his status which made him so unique. He wasn’t gloating about how he’s the radio demon about to end your fucking life. Alastor in the pilot was subtle. At the snap of his fingers he destroys Sir Pentious with no hesitation and no exchange of words. Meanwhile, Alastor in the show has to blab and go this tangent of how sloppy, slow, and unprofessional Adam is only to get his ass handed to him.
Alastor in the show frequently mentions his status and gets pissy when most don’t care that he’s back or straight up not recognize him. Meanwhile, in the pilot you will notice that it’s the opposite, Charlie (the princess of Hell) and Vaggie are freaking out that Alastor is here at their door. It truly shows much power and control presents in the pilot without even trying.
The thing that disappointed me the most was his lack of interaction with the main hazbin squad. It was the driving point of why I was excited for Alastor and how his involvement was going to shake up the hotel for better or worse. Only to find out He barely interacts with them and I’m supposed to “care” when the most of cast members hug and get excited that he is alive in episode 8.
Speaking of the hotel, he barely contributes much regarding the hotel and fucks around. Like I was expecting him to at least help Charlie and Vaggie brainstorm activities for the sinners to do or even take control in his own of how he would handle Angel dust and Sir Pentious. Heck or even go outside with Charlie and Vaggie to promote the hotel to other sinners via singing and cause some drama/mischief along the way. Specifically talking about the hotel, the only things he did was do the commercial, fix the walls, and protects the hotel twice. But That’s it.
As I mentioned earlier, Alastor is an attention whore in terms of stealing the spotlight in the actual show and being in most episodes, which may be good for Alastor fans. They got the full course meal but Vivziepop needs to focus on other undeveloped main characters who desperately need the attention and development. Which why Alastor should be used sparingly, this would also make the audience more interested with him and creates more mystery.
For example: Episode 5, Dad Beat Dad: you would think the episode would focus on Charlie and Lucifer’s relationship which it does for a small portion but we also gotta have Alastor in there so he could drop the biggest F bomb to Lucifer to show that he means business and hatessss him. We also gotta dedicate a 2:30 minute song duet between the two men having a pissing contest, along with our home girl Mimzy being a plot device/prop for Alastor in order to HYPE HIM UP and tell his origins. Because Alastor soooo mysterious and such a hunkkkk. Oh yeah, Charlie is there I guess…
Also, Alastor’s smile in the show bothers me personally, more specifically the way it’s drawn. It’s to jaded and sharp, so it’s pretty obvious to tell how he feels and emotions Alastor goes through. Meanwhile, in the pilot his smile and energy is so goofy and I miss that. That really added to mystery because not only keeps you on your toes but you don’t know what’s on his mind for the most part or his long term goal.
This is by far my longest post and I wanted to get this off my chest regarding Alastor. 😭
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fansonlineaustralia · 1 year ago
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However, fans are also important for residential buildings during summer seasons and the Milano Slider Junior DC ceiling fan is quite popular for the strong gust of air it offers. The leading brands offer a number of different types of fans and one can just get them home delivered as well so that one does not have to face the heat while stepping out to buy a fan in the summer season.
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Source
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in1-nutshell · 1 year ago
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How would the tfp autobots and decepticons react to the toy furby
Ooohhh! I remember furby's, granted they were a bit creepy in my opinion. These are a bit shorter than what I usually write, I was trying to get most of the characters in. Let me know if these needed more writing in them.
Hope you enjoy everyone's reactions to the furby's
Autobots and Decepticons reaction to seeing a furby
SFW, mentions of blasters
TFP
How did this all happen? One word to simplify everything: Miko. She thought it would be funny to start leaving these little menaces around the base and to get the bots reaction to it. How did she acquire these furbies, don’t ask any questions. Jack tried to stop her, but she successfully bribed him by promising to send him the video of Arcee’s reaction. Raf promised to edit the videos to be at their finest. Operation: Furby reaction is a go.
Autobots
Optimus Prime
He notices the first furby as it sits innocently near one of the control panels. At first, he thinks that one of those ‘birds’ had entered the base and tried to move the thing.
“Hello little one. How did you get in here?”--Optimus
“SSSQQQQUAAAAKKKK!”--Furby
“I see… Ratchet did you let the creature inside the base?”--Optimus
“Did I do what now?”--Ratchet
Then it suddenly started moving and squawking its native tongue that may or may not have startled the Prime a bit.
He doesn’t mind the furby too much… but does sense something about it.
Ratchet
He notices when he sees Prime slightly startled by something.
He goes to investigate and nearly squashes the Furby thinking it was a scraplet.
“Ratchet! Do not harm the creature!”--Optimus
“Optimus with all due respect, that thing is definitely some sort of scraplet! It might be a different type of mutation but look at it!”--Ratchet
“Ratchet—”--Optimus
“It even looks evil Optimus! I’m getting my wrenches.”--Ratchet
“Ratchet!”—Optimus
He does not care about Optimus’s code on not killing living being. That thing looked at him weird and he is going to end it before it eventually causes trouble.
Bumblebee
Nearly has a whiplash when he sees the little thing. He also thinks it’s a scraplet at first, but slightly calms down recognizing it as one of those human toys he saw on commercial with Raf.
Everything is fine… until it started screeching and moving by itself.
“SSSSSSSCCCCCRRRREEEEAAACCCHHHH!”--Furby
“BBBBBBBEEEEEEEPPPPPPP! (AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!)—Bumblebee
Does not like furby’s at all. Claims that they were trying to speak to him.
Arcee
Her encounter with the Furby is short.
Mainly because she saw something move out of the corner of her optic and blasted the poor thing to bits.
“Huh? What on Cybertron—”--Arcee
“SCCCCRREEECCH—”—Furby remains
Blaster firing intensifies.
She doesn’t know what that thing was, but it started it.
Bulkhead
He is running to see where Bumblebee is after hearing him screaming. He has his wrecking ball at the ready and ready to comm in back up if necessary.
“BBBBBBBEEEEEEPPPPPP! (AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!)--Bumblebee
“What is it!?”--Bulkhead
“BBBEEEPP BEP BEEEEPPP (THAT THING RIGHT THERE!)--Bumblebee
“SCCRRREEEAAACCHHH!”--Furby
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! SCRAPLET! SCRAPLET! SCRAPLET!!!”—Bulkhead
Absolutely loathe those things. It reminds him too much of the scraplet incident that happened. He would be swinging his wrecking ball if it hadn’t gotten stuck in the wall.
Wheeljack
He is running as soon as he hears Bulkhead and Bumblebee screaming. His katanas are out as is ready for some slicing and dicing.
“BEEEEEPP BEEEEPPPP! (PRIMUS ITS MOVING CLOSER!)--Bumblebee
“SCRAPLET! SCRAPLET! SCRAPLET!”--Bulkhead
“Where’s the danger!?”--Wheeljack
“BEEPPP! (ITS MOVING!)--Bumblebee
“SCRREEEECCCHH—”--Furby
“There, its sliced in half. Huh. You two where afraid of this little cute—”--Wheeljack
“SSSSSCCCCRRREEEAAAACCCHH!”--- The two remains of the Furby
Blaster firing and wrecking ball smashing intensifies.
Isn’t a huge fan of the little things. It’s a bit cute in a creepy way. Does remind him of scraplets if they had gotten some mold and gained some sort of upper-level sentience.
Smokescreen
Like Arcee, his encounter with the Furby is short.
He accidentally stepped on one effectively crushing it.
“SCCRRE—Crunch!”—Furby
“Hmm? Hmm.” –Smokescreen
He is completely oblivious to the tomfoolery that is happening all over the base. He is too busy with looking at the latest relic they managed to find.
Ultra Magnus
He finds a Furby near his work area. He tries to speak to the Furby as he would to anyone else.
“Excuse me but you are in classified—”—Ultra Magnus
“SSSSCCCRRREEEEEAAAACCHHHH!”--Furby
“That was unnecessary and—”—Ultra Magnus
“SSSSSCCCCRRREEEEAAACCHHH!”--Furby
“Listen to—”—Ultra Magnus
“Ultra Magnus move!”--Ratchet
Furby is hit with 10 wretches in one go.
He doesn’t mind furby’s like Optimus. Mainly because he was trying to communicate with it and never got to finish his sentences with it.
Decpticons
No one knows how it was done, but the impossible was made possible. After Miko finished getting all the Bots’ reaction to the furbies she decided to do something else. Somehow, she managed to scatter the remaining furbies on board the Nemesis. How did she do this. Not even Miko quite knows how she did it.
Megatron
He finds the Furby on his throne. He doesn’t know what this thing is, but it is on his throne, and no one sits on his throne except him.
“You! How dare you sit upon my throne!”--Megatron
“SSSSCCCRRREEEAAACCCH!”—Furby
Blaster firing intensifies.
The furby would be gone whether he is on Dark Energon or not. Will not admit it but the furby noise sent a little shiver down his struts. Good thing no one saw that.
Starscream
He finds the furby in his habsuite. He is curious in how this weird looking organic thing managed to find his room. He takes the furby to the interrogation room.
“Who are you? Speak worthless organic!”--Starscream
“SSSCCCRRREEEEAAACCCCHHH!”--Furby
“How dare you! I am Starscream, Second in Command of the Decepticon Army! You will—”--Starscream
“SSSSSCCCCCRRREEEAAAACCCHHHH!”--Furby
“Two can play it that game!”--Starscream
“SSSSCCCCCRRRREEEAAAACCCHHH!”--Starscream
“SSSSCCCCRRRREEAAAACCCHH!”—Furby
He ends up staying in the room with the furby for a while. Takes the furby to his room and plays on doing a hostage exchange if it is needed.
Soundwave
Finds the furby on his desk. Lazerbeak deploys and flies around the small thing. Steps a bit closer to getting a good look at it.
“…”--Soundwave
“SSSSSCCCRRREEEAAAACCCHHHH!”—Furby
He immediately groundbridges the furby outside the Nemesis to have it fall and burn on reentry. He does however keep the screeching noise recorded and will use it if necessary… or if he is bored.
Knockout and Breakdown
The pair enters the medbay and finds the furby on the medslab.
Breakdown looks at it and thinks it’s kind of cute. Knockout on the other hand.
“OH, PRIMUS KILL IT!”--Knockout
“Knockout?!”--Breakdown
“THAT IS UNICRON’S SPAWN! KILL IT! BURN IT!”--Knockout
Breakdown smashes the furby to oblivion. Did he regret it? No, it was causing Knockout stress, and he was happy to get rid of it for him. Knockout knows the furby’s horrors, he knows…
Dreadwing
His time with the furby is short. He accidentally stepped on it as he was trying to get some creates to his habsuite.
“SSSCCRR—Crush!”--Furby
“What in the All Spark? Hmm…”--Dreadwing
He does wonder what the weird noise was, but he has other things to worry about, so he quickly forgets about the encounter.
Shockwave
He doesn’t know they exist. There were no furbies in the lab or in his habsuite. The two places he really goes to. He does hear from the others about the furbies though.
“They sound illogical.”--Shockwave
“You’re illogical!”—Starscream
He doesn’t care about the furbies, he has science experiments and war crimes to commit.
Predaking
He finds one near his kennel and does not like it. Sure, the Nemesis isn’t the greatest place, but that spot is his!
“You! Vermin! Who are you!”--Predaking
“SSSCCCRRREEE—”—Furby
Fire breathing intensifies.
Does not like the noises and is quick to end the furby.
Arachnid
She finds one randomly walking in the halls screaming. She just stabs it and puts it on her trophy case. She doesn’t have time for anything else. She has Arcee and Megatron to kill.
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sfznyxio · 6 months ago
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-ˋˏ HEADLINES ˎˊ
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SYNOPSIS. following the success of the recruitment process and their first concert, this odd combination of a band becomes busy these days. thus, they hired a manager to keep track of their schedules. and to an extent, deal with their shenanigans that may or may not feature on the news.
CHARACTERS. argenti, aventurine, jingliu, kafka, robin
CONTENT. gn!reader. celebrity au, musician au, modern au. comedy, fluff. 1.1k wc. inspired by the concert animated commercial: “before the show begins”. canon elements (jingliu - powers; aventurine - cake cats; robin - halovian features). reader’s the straight man in this chaos. cameos from yanqing (argenti, jingliu), stelle (argenti, jingliu, kafka) and caelus (aventurine, robin). brief mentions of ruan mei (aventurine) and sunday (robin). word vomit for the most part.
VERA. happy pride month, bitches. what a good way to start off the month watching the haikyuu movie, seeing volleyball boys stare at each other intensely and metaphorically stab their friends in the neck. all i can say is that the animation was insane. speaking of insane, the hsr concert was released to celebrate the game’s first anniversary. “sway to the cosmos” is my favorite out of the setlist, and i even made it as my train jam. imagine seeing it live though… i die. i had to look up what instrument jingliu plays and i strongly believe it’s an erhu based on how it looks. i kinda don’t like this; i have no idea what i wrote. it’s my worst attempt at being funny lol.
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𝄞༉‧₊˚. ARGENTI
drummer argenti preaches ‘scripture of beauty’ to fans
“hey! what’s the ‘scripture’ supposed to be? actually, who is idrila? look, you can’t spout names like that and not expect a scandal to not happen.” argenti seems to be in the zone while dancing with his fans at the park, so he most likely didn’t hear what you just said. you glance at stelle and yanqing to get him to snap out of it, but they’re completely drained, on the floor from being dragged into the spotlight earlier.
“my lovely manager! since you’re here, you must be interested in being a follower?” not at the very slightest, but the name argenti throws out and about drives news outlets and his fans up on the walls. that may put the drummer at risk of being a subject of misunderstandings and fanwars, which is why you’re here in the first place. you can feel the stares of his audience burning into your skull, so you extend your hand to “express” your interest.
“wonderful. now, let us dance under the name of beauty!” throughout it all, everything blurs out. not even five minutes in, you’re exhausted out of your mind, unsure if argenti has given you useful information about his charade. in the end, you gather more questions than answers, and practically leave the drummer to handle the potential messy aftermath. he’s an enigma; anyone can tell you he’s the eighth wonder of the world, and you’ll believe it.
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𝄞༉‧₊˚. AVENTURINE
guitarist aventurine adopts scientist’s ‘sweet’ creations
“rise and shine. your cats won’t stop bothering me until you wake up, by the way.” all the feline pastry lifeforms on your head, shoulder, and feet mew in agreement. caelus somehow has collaborated with the scientist who created them, making some that resemble his friends, one of which is aventurine. the guitarist adopts his lookalike for fun at first, and now his house is their haven, which makes his issue of organization worse.
“hey, pretty boy! you better wake up, or i’ll sit on your face and suffocate you!” the synesthesia beacon in your phone picks up a translation from under aventurine’s arms. there’s a cake cat that resembles you, but do you actually sound like that when you’re upset? never mind that; the most important question here is why does he have a cake cat version of you here? well, he’s already behind schedule, so out of curiosity, you try out its suggestion. 
“okay, okay. i’m up.” the cat cake version of yourself huffs at him taking forever to get ready, but seems proud of making its threat happen with your help. aventurine sees five pairs of eyes staring at him, with one in particular full of disappointment for being inconsiderate. he promises to keep track next time, but you aren’t sure he’ll truly follow through if he’s convinced to expand his cake cat kingdom.
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𝄞༉‧₊˚. JINGLIU
erhu player jingliu unleashes ice blades at passersby
“for the last time, the people who watched you perform gave you strales because they appreciate your talent. this is the fourth time this week of scaring them with your sword.” you note a careful distance between the passerby and jingliu, who resumes playing her erhu like it’s none of her business. stelle has learned it the hard way so luckily she has you to deal with the erhu player. the first victim of her powers slips out from a tree to wish you luck with a thumbs up.
“ah, has that young man come yet? i would like to have a spar with him.” jingliu’s referring to yanqing, another swordsman. he loves competition, so this entire street, or the entire city even, is screwed into becoming an icy wonderland. telling her that he’s not here, she returns to performing. you notice a brilliant idea coming into fruition as soon as she stops her bow halfway, and it already doesn’t sound good.
“manager, why don’t you spar with me? let’s see who will fall first.” you immediately refuse without a second thought. jingliu would win anyway as she’s more skilled with the sword and you have no powers, so it isn’t a fair fight to begin with. you’re just relieved that she didn’t unleash her icy blades for the fifth time, and that you make it alive throughout the confrontation.
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𝄞༉‧₊˚. KAFKA
violinist kafka sends many clothes stores bankrupt
“listen… i get that you look great in everything and all, but do you think this is way too much?” you gesture to the cart overflowing with concert outfits. kafka hums in contemplation as she examines her next purchase in the mirror, then nods in approval which seals the deal.
“oh, you think so too? alright then, i’ll have stelle handle all payments as usual.” stelle averts her gaze away to avoid your temper, pretending as if she didn’t enable the violinist’s unlimited shopping spree. you can sense the employees fearing for their livelihoods that are at stake, and you can feel like yours will be at the state soon if this keeps up. scolding kafka to unload everything in the cart, the wave of relief in the staff washes away when she reveals a special trick up her sleeve.
“what about your wardrobe? surely you can’t wear the same exact thing everyday, don’t you think?” kafka jabs into one of your weaknesses: the lack of variety in your closet. it’s important to appear presentable as the band manager, but your uniformity gives you not a lot of room to try out different combinations. the only hope of this store is gone, and so is the store itself as soon as the credit card is swiped.
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𝄞༉‧₊˚. ROBIN
singer robin disappears once again from photoshoot
“when your brother finds out you snuck out again, he will kill me in the most painful way possible.” whenever you bring that man up, always in the worst case scenario, robin responds with a smile as reassurance that he won’t hurt you when she’s around. but it’s more like she won’t get in trouble, leaving you to shoulder the blame.
“don’t worry! caelus will take care of everything. ah, i hope i wasn’t too late.” the self-proclaimed master of stalling strikes again. knowing that man, robin’s confidence in caelus is astounding. because sooner or later, he’ll find out that she’s at a toy store with you to buy the limited edition of a clockie figurine. the singer will be happy, and you’ll end up dead in a ditch probably.
“oh no, photographers are here. can you cover for me?” robin tucks her wings beside her face so they can fit under her mask. while she browses through the aisles, you direct the photoshoot team outside, hopefully far enough from the store to remain off radar from her brother’s watch. you pray that caelus comes back in one piece as well as yourself. the cost of making a halovian’s day brighter, especially if she’s a famous singer and has a control freak of a sibling, is quite risky.
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jihyoruri · 5 months ago
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WE NEED THE PARANOIA PROFILE PLEASEEEE
ur lucky I just finished it LMAOOO ill just copy and past it into here ig
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—✮ paranoia is a kband that debuted under sm entertainment on october 31st 2023, they went platinum with their debut mini album that has four songs two songs showing one side of their concept and the other two showing the other, the popular band consists of three members, wonbin, yn and jaehyun.
THE DISCOGRAPHY ★
DEBUT MINI ALBUM — PARANOIA october 31st 2023 (4 tracks) success level — successful
💿#TRACKS
01 . wicked love written by yn & wonbin produced by jaehyun *debut track* (6 wins) mv 200m views (og artist - yena) 02. I just threw out the love of my dreams written by yn produced by jaehyun (og artist - weezer)
03. fairy of shampoo written by wonbin produced by yn * second debut track* (12 wins) mv 260m views (og artist - dosii version)
04. homesick written by kim daniel & yn produced by yn (og artist - wave to earth)
OPENING SEQUENCE — ost for pyramid game written by yn and jaehyun produced by jaehyun (og artist - txt)
COMEBACK — IN MY MEMORIES june 18th 2024 (7 tracks) success level — very successful
💿#TRACKS
01. love me or leave me written by yn produced by jaehyun mv 230 views ( 5 wins) (og artist - day6)
02. all the things she said written by yn produced by yn (og artist - t.A.T.u)
03. can’t love you anymore written by yn & wonbin produced by jaehyun (10 wins) mv 198m views (og artist - iu & ohhyuk)
04. friends written by yn produced by jaehyun (og artist - chase atlantic)
05. going under written by yn produced by jaehyun (og artist - evanescence)
06. supermassive black hole written by yn & jaehyun produced by yn (3 wins) mv 160m views (og artist - muse)
07. don’t hurt me anymore written by yn produced by yn (5 wins) mv 200m views (og artist - dosii)
END OF SUMMER LOVE & BLUES — august 16th 2024 (4tracks) success level — very successful (end of summer surprise for fans)
01. understand written by yn produced by yn og artist - keshi )
02. love written by yn produced by jaehyun mv 228M views ( 5 wins) (og artist - wave to earth)
03. seasons written by yn produced by jaehyun mv 130M views ( 2 wins) (og artist - wave to earth)
04. dont hurt me anymore written by yn produced by yn (1 wins) (og artist - dosii)
THE GROUPS BRAND ENDORSEMENTS ★
—✮ AS A GROUP - chrome hearts, vans off the wall, adidas, soju (does commercials for the drink), apple, pepsi, gentle monster, calvin klein
WONBIN — prada, ralph lauren, armani
YN— vivienne westwood, bapesta, chanel
JAEHYUN — ysl, new balance, nintendo
THEIR SOCIAL MEDIA ★
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THE MEMBERS ★
—✮ THEIR STORY the three have known each other since they were kids and they all always had a love for music. they jokingly auditioned for sm entertainment with just their vocals and instruments (cause they can’t dance for shit) and got in shockingly, as soon as the entertainment realized that these three are definitely not idol material they knew they couldn’t let go of such a talented group of people (minus the dancing) so they used their talents for other sm groups , yn’s, wonbin’s and jaehyun’s names were constantly in the producing and writing credits for other sm artist and nobody knew who they were, now they definitely do.
—✮ YN aka dumber ( leader main vocalist, lead guitarist, song writer & producer ) (overpowering gender for her fan base when it comes to sales - boys overpowering genre for her fan base when it comes to fansigns and social media - girls) she has a very divided fandom.
#✿! . . . birthday!-october 31st.2003 (for the plot!!)
#✿! . . . relationship status!- single
#✿! . . . personality description !- yn’s is quiet but not the shy quiet just quiet she likes to observe people. she tends to be flirty with others but means no harm about it, she doesn’t like relationships much and feels like they’ll way her down especially with how successful her career has been so far but that doesn’t stop her from having flings. she’s the leader of the group but still is quite childish just not as childish as the boys, yn can’t hide her emotions very well and it’s been shown in front of cameras and off cameras, she outbursts really easily and is ready to argue any day any time.
#✿! . . .training period ! - five years
#✿! . . .writing credits & producing credits (for other groups) ! - in & out(red velvet), psycho (red velvet), in my dreams (red velvet), iced coffee (red velvet), lucid dream (aespa), I’ll make you cry (aespa), illusion (aespa), armageddon (aespa), invu (taeyeon), weekend (taeyeon), MALA (got the beat), I’m unhappy (aespa), cool with you (new jeans) supernatural (new jeans), peaches (kai)
#✿! . . . fav artists!- deftones, wave to earth, radiohead, weezer, bôa, mitski, evanescence, Kendrick Lamar
#✿! . . . fav movies!- scott pilgrim vs the world, super bad, lady bird, ghostbusters (1984)
—✮ WONBIN aka dumb ( lead vocalist, main guitarist, visual ) overpowering gender for his fan base when it comes to sales - girls overpowering genre for his fan base when it comes to fansigns and social media - girls)
#✿! . . . birthday!- december 25th 2002
#✿! . . . relationship status!- single
#✿! . . . personality description !- wonbin is a very charming guy, he’s a favourite when it comes to fangirls, he tries his best to have this cool aura but yn and jay seem to always bring out the worst in him, he doesn’t write music much but he loves his instruments, he’s the mom of the group he cares about yn and jay’s well beings a bit too much.
#✿! . . .training period ! - five years
#✿! . . .writing credits & producing credits (for other groups) ! -teddy bear (nct dream), hello future (nct dream), trouble (exo), love fool (exo), candy (baekhyun), cry for love (baekhyun) , mmmh(kai)
#✿! . . . fav artists!- wave to earth,colde, childish gambino, frank ocean
#✿! . . . fav movies!- captain America civil war, the outsiders, a nightmare on elm street
—✮ JAEHYUN aka dumbest ( vocalist, guitarist, drummer,song writer, producer ) overpowering gender for his fan base when it comes to sales - girls overpowering genre for his fan base when it comes to fansigns and social media - girls)
#✿! . . . birthday!- february 14th.2003
#✿! . . . relationship status!- single
#✿! . . . personality description !- Jay is the life of the party, very extroverted and he’s always talking, most people underestimate him but he’s soooo talented, he loves to tease and make fun of his other members as the youngest of the group he doesn’t make the job of the leader any easier, he’s the groups bad influence.
#✿! . . .training period ! - five years
#✿! . . .writing credits & producing credits (for other groups) ! -90s love (nct u), okay! (nct u), glitch mode (nct dream), boom (nct 127), favourite (nct 127), ay-yo (nct 127), chill kill (red velvet), drama (aespa), black mamba (aespa),salty & sweet (aespa), bahama (aespa), walk (nct 127)
#✿! . . . fav artists!- wave to earth, arctic monkeys, pierce the veil, radiohead
#✿! . . . fav movies!- child’s play (1988), it (2017), spiderman into the spider verse
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quitealotofsodapop · 4 months ago
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Peach Noodles
I don't usually use stock tracers but I wasn't gonna try at 3:45 in the morning
Ty @soniclozdplove; this gives me the perfect opportunity to introduce the public to the Au we have been busting out in Messages (i sound like Im doing a commercial).
we present to you;
Peach Soup
On one rainy night; a monkey demon in torn clothing clutching a crying bundle wanders into the path of a delivery truck. The driver slams the brakes and gets out to yell at what he thinks is a jaywalker.
Pigsy instead finds a scared, hurt, possibly teenage, monkey demon protectively holding a baby to his tiny form. Both muddy and wet with rain. The pig demon's morals win out, driving the two young demons to his restaurant for shelter and a warm meal, hoping to get some information out of the older one.
But the older, red-eyed, ginger-furred monkey doesn't seem to know... well *anything*. No name, no approximate age, barely any human language, not even an explanation why he's covered in bleeding cuts and grisly scars - all he seems to know is that he's hurt and that he needs to protect the cub.
Pigsy calls up Tang for advice. He seriously suspects the pair were victims of some kind of demon trafficking, like he's heard horror stories about in the newspaper. The fact that one is clearly a newborn convinces him of this theory further. Tang advises to keep the pair there while he rushes over in person.
The older monkey has concerning habits too. He's too afraid of the steaming noodle broth to take a sip, so Pigsy improvises by grabbing some fruits from the fridge. The monkey cautiously sniffs the bowl of fruit, his pupils widening at the scent.
Within a minute, the monkey had eaten three peaches whole. Pigsy laughed, cautioning the boy to slow down and to not eat the pits.
Pigsy: "You really seem to love peaches, huh?" Unknown Monkey: (*nods happily*) Pigsy: "Since you can't recall a name... how about I call you Peaches for now?" "Peaches": (*thinks for a moment before nodding excitedly*) Pigsy, fond smile: "Ok then. Peaches it is!" Peaches, smile full of fruit: :D! Pigsy: "Now we need a name for the little guy..." (*both look at the baby monkey demon curled up against Peaches chest, sleeping soundly*) Peaches: "M'kay."
Within a few days and an investigation by the Metropolis Police Department in case it really was a case of trafficking or severe abuse, the two monkeys are given legal identities and now require a foster home that won't separate the pair (there has been an attempt to remove the newborn, but both had become inconsolable). Pigsy and Tang team up and step forward to take the responsibility for the two lost demons that had wandered into their lives.
Peaches is an odd kid (or maybe a young adult, it was hard for the doctors to gauge); very strong for his size, and has a few muscle tics that crop up time to time. He often flicks his arms towards his ears when he's startled or upset. He clutches his head when he's in any form of pain - a habit his adoptive parents put down to whatever caused the nasty-looking crown-like scar around his hairline.
He's also extremely protective of the baby monkey adopted as his little brother. MK, nicknamed due to confusion in processing his adoption papers, grows from a baby to a teenager in the typical amount of time, whilst Peaches barely grows at all. The two are inseparable, with MK loudly worshipping his big brother as the strongest, smartest brother in the whole wide world! Peaches even gains a fan with MK's school yard friend Mei.
Tang and Pigsy nearly had heart attacks the first time Peaches accidentally broke a fridge, or shattered a glass in his hand, or put a hole through the wall with his fist. Seeking out a way to teach their son how to manage his inner strength, an old friend was contacted for help. Sandy was surprised to be contacted after so long, but the sight of Pigsy and Tang's nervous, extremely strong son, made sense. The boy was afraid to hold any creature for fear of hurting them, even extending to his own baby brother. Sandy made sure to help the monkey demon measure and control his strength with lessons in martial arts and meditation. The boy also became a delightful companion for teatime, becoming fascinated in the properties of the different blends.
Peaches also has an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. The second he grasped reading and writing, he wanted to know more. More about the world and the things in it. And he'd later gain a fixation for plants and medicine, on the track to becoming a doctor or a pharmacist if he so chose to.
But for now he's earning his keep (jokingly says Pigsy, he'd never kick out his eldest son) as a busboy and delivery driver for Pigsy's Noodles alongside his baby brother MK.
At least until he was called to deliver to a construction site deep into the city, and instead of a customer he found Princess Iron Fan, Red Son, and the legendary Ruyi Jingu Bang. Peaches was never a fairytale buff, but Papa Tang had read him and MK seemingly every book under the sun about this side of mythology - and if he weren't mistaken, there was a very good reason that the Staff was wedged into that mountain.
So without thinking he grabs if from Red Son's mechanical arm, his brain only catching up afterwards that he shouldn't be able to.
DBK: "SUN WUKONG!" Peaches: "Uh, no!? I'm just Peaches!"
The ginger monkey runs from the site, all three members of the Demon Bull family hot on his tail, but not just out for vengeance, but for concern. Why did he not remember them?
Peaches runs home, certain that Papa Tang knew what was going on, and why he was able to lift the Monkey King's Staff.
When the family makes it to Flower Fruit Mountain in search for the real Monkey King and to get some answers, they discover something horrifying.
Peaches is the Monkey King.
So how come he doesn't remember being him?
Tune in as the mystery unfolds >:3
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aroaceleovaldez · 17 days ago
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you're like the first blog i thought about ranting on this to but it drives me up the wall that some people treat any criticism aimed at tsats2 as being anti-ship or avoidable via just "not reading it". i dont think they realize that we're talking about a bigger issue of soulless commercialization and heavy quality downgrade of a franchise, not like. about an indie author publishing a fan book lmao
'i'll read it anyways haters gonna hate' crowd likely largely funding richard's mediocrity is sad.
I think part of it may have to do with a.) a lack of distinction in recent fandom culture between "Fandom" and "Audience" (alongside other recent fandom culture attitudes as well) and b.) so much of Rick's brand is built up exactly on parasocial behavior that a lot of fans get caught up in it. [under cut cause this got long:]
Re: The first, more recent fandom culture tends to treat "Fandom" and "General audience" as wholly equivocal. Because of this, the concepts tend to bleed into each other in a way we haven't quite seen before fandom became mainstream, and as a result we get a kind of Worst Of Both Worlds situation - a bunch of very passionate fans who have no community, create little to no fanworks themselves (only consume), and only engage at a surface level with the source material. Their only "fandom" community hub is the source material and official social media and they don't have a concept of how to exist outside it, unlike folks who are more used to older fandom culture and are self-sufficient. They have the passion and identity of classic fandom, but none of the depth, and so threats to the source material feel like threats to their community as a whole. They also just don't seem to understand that different subsections of the deeper fandom community are engaging with the material on an entirely different level, or they don't understand why they're doing that. They see no need to because they're never actually engaging with the community or source material beyond a surface level. Functionally they don't have a community. And mainstream media is actively encouraging this because it's profitable for them - they're reaping all of the rewards of fandom, minus the fact that because of the lack of actually community and support structures the entire "fandom" will only have a shelf life the same length of the source material. But at the same time this means they don't have to worry about quality or etc, because this extremely passionate side of their audience will just take anything thrown at them and it'll phase out almost immediately. It doesn't need to be good, it just needs to elicit some kind of reaction on social media. Any publicity is good publicity type stuff.
This lack of true community plus the parasocial emphasis the RR company has tends to make these types of fans double-down. Rick and co. are explicitly advertised as being both part of the "community" and integral to it. And when they've built Rick (and co) up as this moral paragon critical to both part of their identity they're very passionate about and what little of a community they have, any attack on him feels like an attack on themself. Particularly when so much of the publicity and marketing surrounding Rick right now is about his alleged activism when a lot of the criticism about him and the series is actively calling that into question with his unaddressed internalized bigotries. Acknowledging that what Rick is saying and promoting himself as versus his writing and actions don't always line up and pointing out the bigotry present in his work forces people to acknowledge and think about performative activism, which can make a lot of people very uncomfortable! It's forcing them to acknowledge "Oh, even if I'm saying all the right words and calling myself an ally, I am not immune to being bigoted if I don't address my internalized biases. My actual behavior matters." and that especially can feel like a personal attack. Especially in today's western landscape of media consumption being viewed as a moral act in itself.
I suspect this is why a lot of the retaliation against criticism of Rick and the franchise right now is "Why can't you just have FUN? You're just trying to hate for views. Don't take it so seriously! It's not that deep!" - they not only have no interest in engaging deeper in the material, but don't understand why others would, and doing so jeopardizes the foundations of what they consider the fandom. They can't fathom anybody legitimately having these criticisms (particularly not anybody who would ACTUALLY consider themself a "fan" - because their perception of "fan" is themself) because they're so resistant to digging deeper into the media/source material or the concept that anyone would for any legitimate reason (because as long as they keep it as "it's not that deep!!! it's just fun! just enjoy it you wet blanket!!!!" and take things at their word, they can feel secure in that performative aspect and not have to unpack it), and acknowledging that those criticisms exist and are valid means they have to acknowledge the franchise is flawed and imperfect, so they presume the claims are entirely superficial and the individual has ulterior motives rather than, yknow, doing what fandom does: diving deeper.
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