#feel free to add on any thoughts and theories of your own!

[wundrousarts]

It’s officially 2023, meaning that Silverborn comes out this year!

I feel like the title is likely going to refer to something specific that we don’t know about yet, but here are some ways that silver has come up in the series and what it all might mean:

Nobility/The Rich + The Silver District

The description for Silverborn says that we'll "travel to places in Nevermoor that we've ever seen," and a lot of folks think that we'll be visiting the Silver District, which is where the rich reside. Some theories relating to this include:

— We could see Noelle again, which might be the character that we haven't seen in a while as teased by one of Jess's Instagram stories.

— Morrigan could come from nobility or a rich family. While she does come from some sort of wealth and privilege in Jackalfax due to Corvus's status as a politician, it doesn't really matter. Going with the Nevermoorian theory, perhaps Mog's mom comes from the Silver District. Additionally, Morrigan being from nobility could be another parallel with Lam.

— The [redacted] snippet could be a scene set somewhere in the Silver District. The redacted word was confirmed by Jess to be a surname, one that we haven't seen before. Perhaps it could be Mog's relatives on her Mom's side?

— Since the Silver District is where rich people live, it's likely a place where lots of Wundersmith monuments and etc. were commissioned. Morrigan might discover them and learn about some past Wundersmiths, and perhaps even run into a few Ghostly Hours on the way.

Another way that the "nobility" angle could come in, especially with it being something to be born into, could be Morrigan's status as a Wundersmith. Wundersmiths used to be put on a pedestal and even almost deified by the end of their time. Morrigan is born into this legacy and is starting to explore what it means.

The phrase about being "born with a silver spoon in your mouth" is one that's been thrown around since the title was announced, and refers to being born into a wealthy family. Perhaps it refers to Mog coming from a wealthy family, or perhaps it refers to her being born into the illustrious legacy of being a Wundersmith.

Additionally, while it's not something that people are born into (unless you count knacks, maybe?), the fact that Wunsoc folks have more privilege than other folks is definitely something we could see being explored more in this book and beyond.

Side note: Later in this post I discuss silver as it relates to inferiority. Perhaps if Morrigan goes to the Silver District and meets rich folk and/or Noelle, there'll be some sort of dynamic wherein Morrigan is just unintentionally superior to them in some way despite their wealth due to both her Wunsoc and Wundersmith status, and they are inferior because they lack these things.

Silver as it pertains to Witnesses

There are two moments where Witnesses have described a silver instance.

The first moment is this part in Wundersmith:

Jack looked at them a minute, frowning in concentration. ‘That loud one dressed as a clownfish would much rather be at home. Or somewhere else, anyway. There’s a … it’s like a thread, or something. Silver thread. Keeps trying to pull her right out the front door.”

The second moment is this part in Hollowpox:

Jupiter held the rabbit closer, examining every inch of fur, a frown deepening the crease between his eyebrows. “Her handprints are all over him. Cloudy silver smudges. Big hands, little hands. Hands a bit like yours. Twenty-odd years of them, layer upon layer.”

“Mog,” he said quietly. “I think, perhaps, this rabbit belonged to your mother.”

Silver relates to both a desire to be home or be elsewhere (the thread) along with the past and identity and ownership (the fingerprints). Here are some ideas for how this could apply to Silverborn and beyond:

— Morrigan is searching to learn more about herself, where she comes from, and where she belongs. She seeks to "return to her roots".

— She wants to properly "be at home," something she's been struggling with her whole life and is still trying to juggle with, even if it's not something she quite understands.

— We could learn more about Mog's Mom in this book, along with Mog's maternal family in general. See: the earlier thoughts about the [redacted] snippet.

— Squall is also someone longing to go home, because he wants to return to his beloved Nevermoor and the apprenticeship with Mog is a step towards that direction. I bet if a Witness looked at him, there'd be a silver thread pulling at him (towards Nevermoor?).

— When it comes to ownership, Morrigan is learning how to be a Wundersmith and take control of her powers and the history that come with them. As a teenager now, she's starting to figure out who she is and become her own person.

Silver as a key to Wunder

Morrigan's silver umbrella tip, given to her by Jupiter, is used to unlock the Hall of Shadows, which definitely seems wundrous, especially after we learn that Shadowmaking is a sub-art of Veil.

In Hollowpox, Jupiter gives her and Jack a silver key to unlock the frozen lake room so that they can ice skate. The room is as wacky and wundrous as the rest of the hotel. Morrigan makes a specific connection between the two things:

This wasn’t, after all, the first time that Jupiter had given her a slightly odd gift. It wasn’t the first time he had given her a key.

A memory came to her of a strange locked door on a quiet floor of the Hotel Deucalion. The tip of her oilskin umbrella—a birthday present from Jupiter—turning in the lock with a satisfying click. An enchanted lantern-lit room full of shadow-monsters within.

I just think it's interesting that twice now we've had something silver be a key to unlocking something Wundrous. I think we will probably see this continue.

Another line in the Silverborn description says "we'll meet people from Morrigan's past who will be very important in untangling the mystery of who she is." Perhaps whoever this is will be the key to unlocking Morrigan's past, whether it's related to Wundersmiths or her mother or both. "Key to unlock" and "important in untangling" feel like the same sentiment, just with different wording.

Silver as it relates to the Wintersea Republic

When Morrigan meets Maud, she sees this:

There was a double door made of dark wood, with an unusual set of silver handles that interlocked to form a large, ornate W.

Was she back at Wunsoc?

We quickly learn that the W stands for Wintersea and not Wundrous, but it's still interesting because it marks a clear distinction with the cool silver compared to the warm golden Wunsoc W.

The gold color related to Wunsoc comes from the golden color of Wunder, so perhaps the silver relates to the absence of Wunder in the Republic.

Some folks in the Discord brought up how silver has a connotation with second place and inferiority. Given how Squall helped create the Republic, this could make sense. It'll always be second place and less than his beloved Nevermoor, as it's just a temporary way for him to hold power until he returns. However, he's also the second most powerful person, as Maud is more powerful than him and even scares him.

I think that Maud and the Wintersea Republic are going to become more powerful and more important as we go into this second act of the story, and silver being associated with them is definitely something to keep in mind.

Silver + Secrets

Added 2/23/23

I'm currently rereading Nevermoor and have found some fun possible associations with keeping secrets and things being hidden that I wanted to share:

— Morrigan's umbrella unlocks the Hall of Shadows, which is in the renovated wing that she isn't supposed to be in

— Squall uses a silver scarf to hide his face on Hallowmas

— Expanding on the aforementioned silver Witnessing associations, being a Witness is essentially being able to see the secrets of people and things

Silver + Celestials

Added 7/22/23

Wrapped up my Wundersmith reread and found something fun.

— Jupiter receives a "note sealed with silver wax" from "the Celes-"

— This could mean that we might learn some more about Celestial Beings in Silverborn, or perhaps the term is related to them somehow

—— Could relate to a Celestial Being being born, someone born of a Celestial Being, or perhaps someone born under / during an important celestial event (cough cough Eventide)

—— Could also tie back to all the theories of Noelle's knack being related to, and even possibly stolen from, Celestials. Especially interesting since a lot of folks are hoping to see her again in the book.

— A side note: some of the emotions Mog describes in relation to Israfel's voice are reminiscent of some of the themes of family, longing, nostalgia, etc.

— Also: the Eventide phase on the Skyfaced Clock is referred to as “inky, star-strewn blackness”. If silver is related to Celestials and perhaps stars….. what if “Silverborn” is just another term for being born on Eventide?

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

mint chocolate rewards [s.h.] 18+

an: hiii i kept getting stuck with this one but am pretty happy with how it turned out!! as much as i love pathetic steve i also looooove cocky steve. hope you enjoy!! feel free to send requests/suggestions or just chat with me :) -m

summary: you’re tutoring steve (there’s not a lot of learning going on) and he’s a smug asshole sometimes. (ft. ice cream, trains, and karaoke)

modern!steve x fem!reader 

warnings: use of y/n, cursing, angst (steve is a little bit of a an asshole), kissing, a tiny bit of phone teasing, dirty talk, fingering, edging, p in v, smidge of daddy kink (used like once or twice and it’s steve referring to himself)  18+ MDNI!!!!!!

wc: 19.3k (oh im a yapper)

masterlist here!!

College has been a fresh start for you, moving away from your small, stuffy town and basking in the change of scenery and people that a new city brought you. 

Boston was busy most of the time, a Friday or Saturday night in downtown made the city feel alive, electrified—but unlike New York, this city did sleep. Once the hustle and bustle of cars and trains stopped, the city shutdown for the night and the streets were quiet and still. Well in some places. 

It was your third year at Boston University and you’d developed a fondness for the city around you. It was a city of passion and that extended to food, history, and especially sports. A passionate place with the people to match it. 

With this new school and new city, you’d also found some new friends. Robin and Eddie, the three of you had found each other during the first week of freshman year and it had kind of just been that way ever since. You’d like to say you were Robin's best friend, but you knew that title was reserved for someone else. 

You didn’t know Steve Harrington, but you certainly knew of him. Hushed whispers and tired rumors always swirled through the air when Steve was around—and even when he wasn’t. 

Despite the reputation he seemed to have, you wondered if there was really any truth to it. Sure, he seemed charismatic and a little full of himself. Yes, he wore a smug smirk that you thought could bewitch just about anyone. But, when you sat on the sidelines and observed him, you noticed the way he tried to make everyone laugh. You’d seen firsthand how he took the time to talk to everyone around him and make sure they felt included in whatever the group was up to. You saw how he treated Robin, and cared for her. And plus, he couldn’t be that bad if she thought so highly of him, if she loved him so much.

So maybe you did know him, at least a little bit. 

But in reality you were a fairly optimistic person, so you kept your theories about Steve to yourself. You tended to look for the good in people, even when there wasn’t much to look at. A glass half full kind of gal. Which is why when you hear about the ladies man, the stereotypical asshole that is Steve Harrington, you keep your mouth shut and don’t add to the conversation at all. 

Even with Steve being Robin’s best friend, the two of you hardly ever overlapped. You’d see him in passing or he’d be coming to see Robin while you were leaving, but that was it. You weren’t sure why this was how it was, especially with how much she yapped about him. But really you think that Steve has his group of people and Robin has hers. The time they spent together was their own and you didn’t have any issues with that. 

And so when your professor pulls you aside after algebra ll, you realize your overlap with Steve Harrington just increased tenfold. 

“Steve is asking for some outside help and we talked about it and decided the group sessions that I do probably aren’t going to be a good fit. I know you’ve picked up some one on one sessions in the past and made you my first stop.” 

Although you don’t want to admit it, your heart beats a little faster at the thought of spending one on one time with Steve. You’re not sure if it’s excitement or dread—maybe a mix of both. 

“I, uh, I can do that. He’s serious about this right? I don’t want to waste my time if he’s not really wanting to learn something.” Okay, so maybe you’d let some of the rumors about him wiggle their way into your brain, but you couldn’t help it! 

“He is. From what I’ve seen he takes his classes seriously, despite what others say about him. I don’t think he’d ask for help just to make a joke out of it.”

She had a point, why would he go out of his way to seek tutoring if he wasn’t serious about it? And if someone needed some help and you could do it, you were going to. 

“Alright, I’m in. You can give him my number and I’ll see about setting something up.” 

——���-

Your phone buzzing beside you while you laid in bed that night wasn’t out of the ordinary but it was strange when you looked and didn’t recognize the number on your screen. Until you remembered the conversation you’d had with Professor Benson that morning. And until you scrolled through the messages and saw his name. 

Unknown: Hi! I heard you agreed to be my tutor! Professor B didn’t tell me your name but thank you! 

Unknown: You are a lifesaver. 

Unknown: Oh shit this is Steve Harrington by the way. I forgot to mention that. 

Phone still clutched tightly in your hand, you cursed yourself for feeling nervous. He was being perfectly polite, cute even, and here you were with sweaty palms at the thought of texting him back. But you had to. You agreed to this and you wouldn’t go back on your word over some jitters. 

It only took you writing and rewriting the message about twenty times before you came up with something simple that didn’t make you cringe. 

Y/n: Hi, Steve! You’re welcome, I hope I can be of some help to you. I’m y/n, by the way. Did you have a certain time or place you wanted to meet up for your first session? I’m free most days after 6. 

Steve: Y/n? As in the person Robin has replaced me with? What a small world. 

Y/n: Funny. I don’t think anyone could replace your spot in Robin’s life, but yes that’s me.

A small smile worked its way on your lips as you went back and forth with him, some of the nerves slipping away. 

Steve: Well lucky me, I’ll finally get to spend some time with the girl I’ve heard so much about. But as for the first session, what about the library at 7 tomorrow? The tables in the back? 

You tried not to let the first part of his text affect you so much, but it did. If you were being honest, you didn’t think he even knew about you at all, so the thought that he had was making your pulse speed up. 

Y/n: Sounds perfect. I’ll see you then! 

Y/n: Oh and I’ve heard plenty about you too, all good things. 

Steve: Let’s hope I live up to my name then. See you tomorrow. 

———

Steve was living up to his name, but not the one Robin had given him. 

The day had passed quickly and before you knew it you were here about twenty minutes early with math textbooks and notes surrounding you. Now you wouldn’t fault Steve for not being early, that wouldn’t be fair, but you would fault him for being an hour late. 

Well technically he still hadn’t shown up. 

Ten or fifteen minutes, even half an hour you could brush off. Things happen, you get that. But you had no text, no call, no anything and you felt a steady stream of irritation flowing through you. Your texts had gone unanswered and while the rational part of you was concerned that something had happened, more than anything you were frustrated. 

You texted Robin to see if she knew anything about what was going on and she didn’t. If he wasn’t here by 8:45 you were leaving. That was more than fair and you cursed yourself for even giving him that much leeway. But really you hoped he didn’t show at all because now you were tired and pissed and certainly not in the mood to hear his excuses let alone tutor him. The thought of even speaking about math right now made you want to cry! 

It was a surprise your pencil didn't snap from how tight you were gripping it in your hand, your jaw clenched and the beginning of a headache pulsing behind your eyes. You’d try one more time, send one more text before you were done. 

Y/n: Can you at least let me know you’re alive?

That was fifteen minutes ago and still nothing. Looking down at your phone you see it’s now 8:50 and you push your chair back with a huff, standing up to stuff everything back into your bag, shoulders aching before you even add on the extra weight. 

It’s when you’re sliding in your laptop that you hear it. Panicked footsteps are hurrying toward you and you don’t even have to look up to know who it is. Any exhaustion you had is wiped away and replaced with red hot anger, the tips of your ears burning as you try to remind yourself to breathe. 

“Fuck, I’m here! Shit, I’m sorry but I’m here.”

You ignore him, it’s all you can do right now and honestly you think it’s best for both of you that you don’t speak. You’d been up since 5 am and that wasn’t his fault, but it definitely was his fault that he was showing up 2 hours late and keeping you up when you didn’t have to be. 

Zipping up your bag and grabbing your keys off the table you turn, brushing past him without so much as a glance before you’re heading to the doors of the library. Maybe you’re being a little dramatic but you don’t care. You hear him behind you, cursing under his breath and trying to quietly call your name but you keep going. Past the doors and down the sidewalk and straight ahead with a frown on your face. 

A hand on your arm stops you and you realize you manage to keep a few feet ahead of him for about four blocks. You don’t turn to him, don’t give any acknowledgment of his presence besides the pause of your feet. 

“I’m sorry I was a little late—”

That gets your attention and it’s enough to break the little silent treatment you’ve had going. It’s enough to have you pulling your arm away from his hand despite the warmth it provided as you turn to finally face him. 

“A little? Try two hours, Steve.” 

His nose scrunches and he looks away. You can see the embarrassment in his pinched brows and pouty lips but it does little to dull the frustration that’s been building inside of you since the half hour mark. 

But he’s standing in front of you for the first time and while he’s spewing sorry’s you’re taking him in. His hair is disheveled and his lips are a little swollen, like he or someone else has been biting on them. He’s wearing a lilac t-shirt that looks a little too good on him and jeans that hug him in all the right places. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Time got away from me and I didn’t realize until I was leaving her house that it was so late! I thought I’d given us plenty of time but I guess I…I fucked up.” 

You don’t hear much after “leaving her house”, a new wave of anger washing over you and you have to fist your hands at your side to keep from knocking in his pretty white teeth. 

“Was everyone okay?” Your voice is calm and quiet, a little sprig of hope inside that maybe someone needed his help, something had happened and it was an emergency. You hated yourself a little bit for hoping for something like when in reality you knew the truth. He’d been too busy with a girl to remember you. 

And yes you realize it wasn’t so much you specifically as it was your tutoring session, but that didn’t make it sting any less. You were a girl, a girl who blushed around cute guys and who wanted to hold hands and kiss and go on dates. And so what if it hurt your feelings a little bit that Steve had forgotten you? You could get over that. But what you wouldn’t get over, at least tonight, was that he’d taken advantage of someone wanting to help him and wasted your time. 

“Oh, yeah, everyone’s okay. It was more like a…a date, I guess.” 

“Right. And your phone stopped working?” 

He scratched at the back of his neck with a sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t hear it go off and when I saw all your texts I was already almost here so I just didn’t respond.” Well at least he’s honest. 

“Okay. Maybe you should try out a group session with Professor B before you rule it out completely, you might do well with it.” 

He pulled back, eyes wide and a look of surprise written across features. You get the feeling he’s not used to being told no, even indirectly. “What does that mean?” 

“It means that it’s not fair to me to waste my time. I agreed to this because I wanted to help you but if you couldn’t be bothered to show up on time or even call me to let me know you couldn’t make it, it doesn’t really give me hope that this will be beneficial for either of us.” 

His face hardens the slightest bit and despite the pull you have to be a people pleaser, to say sorry and that it’s okay, you hold strong and straighten your shoulders as he stares down at you. 

“So that’s it? One strike and I’m out?” There’s almost a scoff when he says it, like he can’t believe you and it only adds fuel to the fire burning in your chest. 

“Well you haven’t exactly made a great first impression. If a date is more important than math, that’s fine. I really don’t care. But I won’t clear my nights and sit in libraries alone for someone that doesn’t take this seriously.” You watch him take in your words, furrow between his brows getting deeper the more you talk and you just keep going. “And for the record, I don’t owe you more than one shot. What’s the point of this if you’ll just strike out?” 

“I don’t strike out.” 

A laugh of disbelief flies out of you, hands going up like your surrendering, “Really? That’s all you got out of what I just said?” He shrugged at you and despite his pretty face you felt nothing but contempt for him right now. 

“It was a mistake. I lost track of time. If you think you’re too good to give me a shot to prove that I care, then whatever.” 

“You’re an asshole! Don’t try to-to manipulate me into feeling bad about you doing something shitty. Me setting a boundary with you does not mean I think I’m too good, it means I know my time is worth something and I don’t have to put up with bullshit from people, especially someone I don’t even know!” You can see the regret on his face, the way his features soften and his shoulders slump. “Maybe next time set an alarm or don’t schedule a date on the same day as tutoring. Or maybe let someone know you won’t make it before they sit there waiting for 2 hours to help you out. And maybe if you don’t do any of that, show up and don’t be an asshole when they’re upset about it. Maybe learn that you’re not entitled to people’s time and effort just because you think you deserve it.” 

Finished with your little rant you take a breath, hoping he doesn’t lash out at you because you feel your courage waning and you just want to go home and sleep. 

But all he does is nod at you with dim eyes before he’s turning on his heel and walking in the other direction before you can say anything else. Not that you would, you think you’d gotten it all out when you were standing in the middle of an almost empty street scolding him like a toddler. 

Maybe you’d been wrong in your theories about Steve Harrington. Or maybe you just didn’t fall into the group of people that got to see a different side of him. 

————-

Steve felt like shit. 

He’d lost the nerve to say anything when you tore into him like you did, and he deserved it. It was an asshole move to be 2 fucking hours late and then get upset at you being upset with him. And all for what? A girl he barely knew, who didn’t even like him and called him once every few weeks when she was bored? To be fair he didn’t really like her either, so that made him only feel more shitty. 

You’d told him off, which didn’t happen often and regardless of how pissed off or embarrassed he’d been, it was hard to stay upset when he noticed the cute little twitch your nose would do when you yelled at him. 

And he felt bad because you were Robin’s friend, one of her best friends! He’d been hearing about you for what seemed like forever and now that he was actually going to spend some time with you, he’d blown it. He knew you were a sweetheart, quiet most of the time and always willing to do anything for others. It had been a low blow trying to make you feel bad, he knew that. But he really needed your help here and was willing to do anything to get it. Even if it meant guilting you into it, I guess. 

He was well aware of his reputation around campus, grade A asshole with girls hanging off his arms every weekend. Hell, he played into it most of the time. It was easier to just play into what people expected sometimes, even if that meant being a dick. 

And okay, maybe he was guilty of being kind of cocky sometimes. He could be a little smug but he never meant to come off like too much of a prick. He liked to think it was charming sometimes. 

But right now he was worried about passing algebra and making things right with you. Robin would kill him if he didn’t, and he owed it to you to at least try to be decent. 

That’s how he finds himself here, standing in front of you and Eddie where you’re perched in the shade under a big tree in the center of campus. Before last night he’s never said more than a hello to you and he doesn’t think he’s ever even been this close to Eddie. 

He watches the two of you, the way you lean into Eddie as he walks closer and the way Eddie narrows his eyes like a guard dog who’ll bite if he gets too close. He feels a twinge of something deep in his stomach watching you cling to Eddie and maybe it’s because you’re so pretty or maybe it’s because Robin has built you up in his head to be this angel that he’s kind of enamored with. 

“Can I talk to you?” He’s wearing sunglasses so you can’t see the way his eyes dart around your face and settle on the small pout you're wearing on your glossy, peach colored lips. 

“You didn’t have much to say last night, nothing good at least.” You had one hell of a backbone, he’d give you that. From what he’d heard from Robin you tended to try your best to appease the people around you so a little spark shot up his spine at the thought of you not backing down to him. 

He didn’t miss the way Eddie smirked, looking between your stern eyes and the pleading puppy dog look Steve was wearing. He nudged your shoulder to grab your attention, “Oh hear him out, yeah? It won’t hurt anything.” Steve gave Eddie a quick, grateful nod and turned back just in time to see you rolling your eyes at the both of them. 

“5 minutes, Harrington.” 

Eddie got up, gesturing for Steve to take his place as he grabbed his stuff and sent a reassuring wink your way. Steve thinks with all the friends he has, he doesn’t have any besides Robin that really count. Maybe if he quit being an ass, you and Eddie would be his friends too. 

“First I wanna apologize for being late, and for not calling or texting to let you know. I do care about school and I appreciate you taking the time to try and help me. I’m sorry I took that for granted.” He watches your lips part in what could either be shock or surprise and the small nod you give makes him keep going. “And I’m really sorry for the shitty stuff I said. It was a dick move trying to make you feel guilty when you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m lucky you even agreed to help me in the first place, s’not your job. I guess I’m just…used to getting my way. It sounds shitty to say it out loud but I guess we both know it’s true. I realize you don’t owe me anything and I haven’t done anything to earn a second chance, so I’m sorry. I’m gonna try out a group session and see how that goes, I think. But uh, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not going to apologize for anything.” Well, he has to admit that is not what he expected to come out of your mouth. Your shoulders had softened the slightest bit but your eyes were still weary of him. 

“I don’t expect you to, you did nothing wrong. I deserved you telling me off. Hell, I probably needed it. I just wanted you to know I was sorry, you deserved to hear it.” 

When you don’t say anything for a few minutes he takes that as his sign to leave, pushing himself off the ground beside you and dusting off his pants before you stop him with a sigh of his name. 

“Thank you—for the apology. I can tell you mean it and that’s all I wanted. It sounds like you actually heard what I was saying and…and if you want a second shot, you’ve earned one.” 

“Really?” He smiled wide at you, hand grabbing yours that you’d held out and he lifted you up with ease. You nodded at him and he felt relief all over. He didn’t realize he still had your hand in his until you gave him a squeeze and he dropped it, shrugging shyly. 

“Two strikes and you are out, Steve. Don’t make me regret this.” 

He couldn’t help the cocky smirk he flashed, hands going to his hips, staring down and not missing the way your throat bobbed at how close he was. 

“I told you I don't strike out, didn’t I?”

—————

You were very pleasantly surprised by Steve’s apology, kind of shocked by it too. You hadn’t expected much to come out of your little rant, let alone him seeming so genuinely sorry about what had happened. And he seemed to understand what you said, he let it soak in and took accountability for it. 

When he was standing there so sincere and upset, you couldn’t help but to offer him another chance. This was the Steve you thought you’d seen, kind and attentive. You were happy you weren’t totally wrong about him. 

But one thing you did realize was that Steve Harrington was a pest. He got under your skin in the best way possible and lit you on fire in a way that nobody ever had. It’s like he lit a spark in you and you loved every second, even if you pretended like he got on your nerves. 

In the last two weeks you and Steve had gotten together about 4 times, and it was going well! You’d realized within one session with him that he just needed some one on one time with the material. He grasps the concepts much easier when he has someone to walk him through a few problems at his own pace. 

And he’d been on time to every single one, even early to a couple. Today he even showed up before you, the little eager student that he was. 

You noticed the more time you spent together over the last two weeks and the more comfortable Steve became, the more he liked to tease you and watch you flush red under his stare. 

Like now you’re sitting beside him—you had sat down across from him but he pouted like a child and said it would be easier if you were closer—and he’s complaining about the quadratic formula for the millionth time. 

“We’re almost done, Steve. Two more problems and you’re free to go.” 

“I think I should get a reward for all this.” He would probably stomp his foot at you if he was standing up and you can’t help but huff a small laugh at the little frown he’s wearing, chin in his hand and shoulders slumped in annoyance. 

“You do. You’ll pass the class.”

He’s not amused by this, rolling his eyes and pinching the bare skin of your thigh where your shorts have moved from you shifting in your chair. You watch the spot turn pink and his touch, even something so quick and simple, has you buzzing. 

“Lame. I was thinking more of a kiss, let me have a quick taste of those pretty lips.” No matter how many times he mentions your mouth or how’d you taste it never fails to thrill you, your face heating and your eyes darting everywhere but his. 

It’s even worse when you watch the way he watches you, leaned back in his chair with his thighs spread and a smug look on his face. He’ll flash his teeth at you in a smile and send a quick wink that has you having to stop yourself from sinking between his open legs. He knows what he does to you and he loves it, soaks it up and never gets tired of it. 

You’ve turned back to your own notes, leaving Steve to work on the last few problems and of course he does anything but. It’s only been a few minutes when you feel something brush across your hair, you ignore it. A few seconds later something soft hits your cheek, and you ignore it. But when it hits your forehead you turn to him with a scowl, a little ball of paper between his fingers. 

“You are a child.” You swat at his chest and regret it when he catches your wrist in his hand, skin turning hot under his touch. You can’t look away from where his fingers wrap around you and it makes you dizzy to feel his rough hands against your skin. 

“Hit me again, baby.” 

That was another thing that had started, the pet names. He used your name sometimes, but called you baby, sweetheart, or doll when he wanted to make you stutter your words and stumble through your sentences. 

He’s smirking at you, eyes light and filled with amusement at the way your neck is turning a bright pink, reaching and reaching until your ears are burning. “C’mon, please?” 

“No reward for you if you don’t finish those problems.” Despite the turmoil going on inside your voice sounds cool, unaffected, and you thank god for that. 

“Fine. I can be a good boy when I want to be.” 

Ignoring him, you turn back to your notes, far too distracted to actually pay attention to them anymore but you still stare at the paper in front of you. You’re pleasantly surprised when he actually goes back to his work, finishing the problems quickly and you beam at him when they’re all right. 

“See! I told you, just need to take your time with this stuff. I’m proud of you, Steve.” For once he’s the one blushing, brushing it off like it’s nothing and asking for his reward. You should have known, a child never forgets a promise you make them. 

Leaning forward his eyes widen, darting over your face to check if this is really happening. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, not used to playing his games with him and it takes all the courage you have to let your lips brush over the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, before they find the shell of his ear. He’s still beside you, anticipating your next move and if you weren’t so hell bent on teasing him back, you’d kiss him right now. 

Your lips graze him and it’s your turn to smirk when his grip on the table in front of you tightens. His knuckles are white and his jaw is set with you so close to him. 

“Ice cream. That’s your reward.” 

Pulling back quickly so you can see his reaction, you beam at the way his lips are parted and his chest is heaving a little harder than it should be. He just watches you with wide eyes before something settles over him. Something that makes your stomach flutter and tells you you’ve started something that you won’t win. 

When he speaks you can’t help but watch the way his mouth wraps around the words so sensually you feel it all over, like he’s touching every inch of your skin and it’s addicting. 

“Perfect. M’dying for something sweet.” 

———-

He can’t stop thinking about the feeling of your lips on his skin, even if it lasted all of three seconds it’s running through his mind on a loop and making his head a mess. 

God he wishes you would have just bit down on him, sunk your teeth into his skin and let him feel your tongue soothe the burn. 

You’re walking side by side to your favorite ice cream place now, the sun is out and bright but despite that there’s a nice breeze that cools his skin. You would have already been there but he had to spend fifteen minutes distracting you from leaving just so he could stand up without getting arrested for indecent exposure. 

Remembering the small smile of victory you had makes him smile, but not as big as he’ll be smiling when he gets you back. He loves watching you preen under his touch, loves the way your chest rises and falls a little faster when he leans in towards you and loves even more the way your eyes go all big and round and your cheeks turn bright red when he says something cheeky. 

Spending some time with you over the last two weeks, it’s obvious to him why Robin is so obsessed with you. You’re hilarious, sometimes you make him laugh so hard his stomach hurts and he has tears in his eyes. He’d known you were a sweetheart but getting to see it firsthand gave him a goddamn toothache. Watching the way you smile at him so proudly when something finally clicks, how you listen to someone with such intent, no matter what they’re talking about. You’re just so kind and good that he wants to be as close to you as possible at all times. 

But this is the first time you two are venturing outside of the library together and he thinks he’ll spend much more time convincing you to do things with him besides math. Now that he’s got a taste he needs more, craves it. 

He doesn’t even notice you’ve arrived until you’re tugging on the sleeve of his shirt and giving him a smile as sweet as honey as you wordlessly point at the ice cream shop he’d just walked past.

Pulling open the door he lets you go first and looks around to see only a few people besides them in the shop. Perfect. 

Since there’s no line, you both go quickly. You opt for chocolate chip cookie dough in a cup and he decides on mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone. He notices the way your nose scrunches all cute at his choice and he rolls his eyes as he pulls out his card to pay before you can. 

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who’s gonna say it tastes like toothpaste or something.” Your jaw drops in offense and he has to roll his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing at how cute you are. 

“I wasn’t! I only made that face because I almost got it myself.” 

“And the thought of having a similar taste to me is making you feel sick?” 

“No, just didn’t peg you as a mint chocolate chip guy.” 

“So you’ve been thinking about pegging me.” He knows you’ve realized what you’ve done before the words even leave his mouth and he smirks at you anyways. He’ll take any chance to get you all flustered and riled up. 

“Pay for my damn ice cream, Harrington.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just quietly snickers to himself while you go and find a place to sit. He notices the way you choose a seat in the corner, far away from anyone else in the shop and he smiles. You probably know what’s coming, waiting for the other shoe to drop after your little stunt at the library and he loves seeing you all worked up and on edge. 

He likes it a little too much. 

Instead of sitting in the seat across from you he slips in the booth beside you instead, watching your eyes dart to the side to watch him carefully. He’s not sure why you’re surprised, he always takes any opportunity to be close to you. 

Slinging an arm around your shoulder he lets his fingertips toy with your hair, smiling when he feels you relax into him. “Can I have a bite?” You seem to not think anything of his request, lifting your spoon up to his mouth and he lets you slip it between his lips, your eyes trained on his mouth and his on you. 

He hums around the spoon and lets his teeth catch when you drag it from his mouth. You shake your head at him, leaning slightly against his chest and enjoying the quiet between you too. 

It’s go time. 

“Wanna bite?” He’s looking down at you and you nod sheepishly, leaning forward to meet him halfway when he moves his cone towards your mouth. Right when he reaches your lips he moves the cone an inch over and touches the ice cream against the corner of your mouth. 

Before you can reach for a napkin he grabs your wrist, smiling all innocent when you look at him with confusion in your eyes. “I got it, don’t worry.” 

And when he leans forward and moves his head down to be eye level with you, he smirks at the hitch in your breath when he leans forward and lets his tongue swipe over the sweetness there, his tongue catching the corner of your mouth. 

The spoon clatters on the table between you and he hasn’t moved, face just inches away from yours and his hand isn’t playing with your hair anymore, it’s gripping the back of the booth so tight it hurts. 

“Steve..” A breathless little plea leaves your now clean mouth and it takes everything in him not to go in for another taste. He pulls back just enough to watch your eyes flutter close and your head fall back to lay against his arm that’s still behind you. There’s a shine on your cheek from his spit and he’s so hard he can feel his heartbeat all through his body. 

Despite the cockiness running through him at the way you’ve melted, his voice is quiet and breathless just like yours when he speaks where only you can hear him. “What? Just cleaning you up, messy girl.” 

He feels something cold on his hand and looks down to see his ice cream melting, spilling over the cone and running down his fingers. When he looks back he sees you staring at them too, a look in your eyes that has him reeling. 

If there wasn’t anyone else here he’d have you lick his fingers clean, he can see the way you’re itching to do it.

But there’s more people coming into the shop and he’s seconds away from dragging you into the bathroom so he needs to get you out of here, get into the fresh air and out of the little bubble you’ve created. 

“You ready, Stevie?” He loves when you call him that, it makes his chest feel all warm and he just wants to nuzzle into you when you say it. He must have been staring at you, too busy thinking about how bad he wanted you to do anything else. 

He nods, sliding out of the booth and holding out his now clean hand to you, body buzzing when you take it and he feels your skin against his. You walk out and into the street and the breeze on his skin is a life saver. 

Your apartment is just two blocks away from the ice cream shop and the walk there is quiet, both of you thinking about his tongue so close to your mouth. His hand brushes yours as you walk and he feels his fingers twitch with the need to slip your hands together. 

“Good reward then?” It’s you that breaks the silence and he’s grateful, his heart racing in his chest despite the smug smirk he’s wearing looking down at you. 

“Oh baby, the best.”

—————

You and Steve spend about four days a week together at this point and you’re not convinced he even needs that much tutoring but you don’t complain. You’ll take any chance to spend some time with him. 

The two of you have also decided to forgo the library, taking turns having it at his place or yours and most times you work on actual school stuff for about half an hour before he’s distracting you with a movie or a game or a promise of food. 

It’s been a few weeks since that day at the ice cream shop, where he licked the corner of your mouth and sent you spiraling. Having him that close was overwhelming enough, let alone feeling him on your skin. 

Since then things haven’t changed much, he teases you and sometimes you retaliate but oftentimes you just sit there red faced and let him enjoy how flustered he makes you. He’s still touchy and smug all the time, but hasn’t put his tongue anywhere near you since. Unfortunately. 

Tonight you’re both at your place, you lying out across your couch in a t-shirt and pajama shorts that really don’t fit you anymore but you refuse to get rid of. Steve is on the floor in front of you stretched out and scrolling through his phone while you switch between watching the tv and watching him. 

He’s been less like himself tonight, quiet and there's a little furrow between his brows that has you worried. By this point he’d usually be wrapped around you, playing with your hair or rubbing at your neck. But he’d barely touched you today, barely teased you and you wondered what had happened between yesterday and today that had him so out of sorts. 

Regardless of his mood, he takes time to admire the way your ass peaks out of the bottom of those shorts, his jaw clenching when he gets a peak at the smooth skin there. He can spot where your ass meets your thigh and he wants to bury his face there. 

You're pulled from your thoughts when he sits up, sitting his phone on the edge of the couch beside you and using your thigh to hoist himself off the ground. “Be right back, honey.” 

You just nod, stretching out your legs and trying to memorize how the heat of his palm felt gripping your skin. He goes to the bathroom, the click of the lock sounding out at the same time his phone lights up beside you. 

You don’t mean to look. Really, you planned to call out to him and go back to the shitty reality tv show that was playing in front of you but when you see a name you recognize you can’t help but to look. 

And you immediately regret it. 

Brooke: Are you still coming over tonight? It’s been over a month, I miss you. 

The blood drains from your body and you feel a pit so deep in your stomach you think you might be sick. You know Brooke, everyone knows Brooke. And you don’t keep up with that Steve does but he’s spent most of his time with you for the last month, so you can’t help but wonder if the last time he saw her was the day of his first tutoring session. 

And that should make you feel a little better, should dull the raging jealousy coursing through you but it doesn’t. It doesn’t because from her text, he’s already made plans to go over. Maybe this is why he’s being so weird tonight, he’s ready to go see…her. And then you’re even more upset because it was your idea to hang out tonight and you wish he would have just said no because then you wouldn’t have seen this text and you wouldn’t feel like you’re about to cry. 

You and Steve weren’t together, hadn’t even gone on a date or kissed or been anything more than friends. But that doesn’t mean you haven’t developed this huge crush on him that’s taken over every part of your brain. And the teasing, the touches, they meant something to you. 

Maybe that was your mistake. 

Maybe he’s that way with everyone and you read too much into it. Maybe you’ve spent so much time together because he actually did need that much help with fucking algebra and stuck around because he felt like he owed you or something. 

In a matter of seconds your whole friendship was Steve was up in the air in front of you and you found yourself dissecting every interaction and graze of skin and now you just wanted to curl up into your bed and forget all of it. 

You liked him, a lot more than you would care to admit and for the first time since that first night, you felt uncomfortable being in the same place as him. 

The click of the bathroom lock snaps you from your spiral and you pull yourself off the couch, gathering up trash from the snacks you’d eaten so you don’t have to look him in the eye. And you shouldn’t say anything, should pretend it didn’t happen and figure this out later but you can’t help but let the words slip out when he walks back into your living room. 

“Got a text while you were in the bathroom.” He doesn’t say anything but doesn’t really have the chance because you’re rushing into the kitchen and deciding that now is the best time to do those dishes you meant to do before he came over. 

Hopefully he’ll just…go. You know he won’t but maybe that would be easier if you didn’t have to see him again tonight or smell him or touch him. The water is hot, too hot to be sticking your hands under but scrubbing at this plate is all that’s keeping the tears that are building from falling down your cheeks. 

“Y/n…” He’s behind you now, close enough that you can feel his presence and you know if you just took one step back you’d be pressed up against his chest, you’d feel the warmth that always comes from him. So you stay where you are, the edge of the sink digging into your stomach but you try and scoot closer to it anyways. 

A noncommittal hum is all he gets from you. You don’t move your head to look at him, you can’t because if you do you’re not sure you won’t cry. And you can’t let him see you cry over something that was never there. 

“Can you look at me? Please?” His voice is low and sweet, a hint of a plea in his tone that makes your insides twist painfully. You just shake your head, scrubbing at this plate so hard you’re worried it might snap in your grip. 

His hand is on your shoulder now and a shaky breath escapes your lips, the tears building behind your eyes and you will them away. There's nothing to cry over. He’s your friend. That’s all. “If you need to leave, that’s fine. Seriously it’s—you can go if you want.” Your voice cracks the slightest bit, but he notices. Of course he does. 

“Sweetheart, look at me.” 

Your chest hurts at the endearment and you squeeze your eyes shut tight because you know he’s wearing that puppy dog look he does so well. You know his eyes are round and full of concern, or even worse, pity. You know his bottom lip is jutting out in a pout and it makes you want to take the plate you’ve scrubbed clean and smash it into a million pieces. 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Steve, it’s that he won’t give in. He’ll stand behind you all night, miss his date with Brooke if that’s what it takes. He won’t give up until you’re looking at him, but you don’t know why. Don’t know why he wants to see you upset. But you turn around anyways, cheeks blotchy and a sheen of tears ready to fall at any given moment. 

His lips part softly and his hands are hovering between you, not sure if he should reach over and touch you. “It’s not—she’s not…I don’t want to leave.” 

“Okay.” 

“I don’t know why I even made the plans in the first place! I’d rather be here with you anyways.” 

“Okay.” 

He’s pacing in front of you now, hands fisted in his hair and he looks like he’s freaking out, chewing on his bottom lip and mumbling under his breath while you just stand there and stare at your feet on the floor. 

“I’ve just been…my mind has been fucked lately and I don’t know what I even think anymore and I do stupid shit when I don’t know what do to.” 

“Okay, Steve.” 

“Are you just gonna keep saying okay?” He’s stopped pacing, the stare he’s wearing keeps you still in place against the sink and you feel like shrinking under his gaze. 

“What do you want me to say? If you want to go hang out with her, you can! You’re an adult, Steve. You don’t have to spend all your time with me.” 

“But I want to.” Heart thudding hard in your chest you try to make sense of what he’s saying, what he’s not saying. He’s giving you something, dancing around what he wants to say and you won’t give yourself false hope, won’t read too far into this. You’ve become friends, best friends even and you don’t want to fuck that up. 

“Then stay.” 

You should talk about this, you know it and he knows it. You should get everything out in the open so there’s no more secret plans and unshed tears but you don’t. Instead he nods at you, coming closer and wrapping his arms around you so you’re nuzzled against his chest. Neither of you say anything, just sit there wrapped up in each other for who knows how long before he pulls back and tugs you to the living room, sitting down and pulling you into his side with no words spoken between you. 

The show drones on around you, but you’re not paying attention. Your mind is too busy, too many thoughts swirling around to even try and focus on anything but him. He sinks down further into the couch and you move with him, your head resting against his chest and his hand lying still on your hip. 

“M’sorry I made you sad. Never want to do that, you’re too pretty to cry over me, too sweet.” 

You just nod against him, closing your eyes and feeling the thump of his chest on your cheek. He doesn’t say anything else and you’re grateful. 

————-

It’s been almost a week since that night in your apartment. A week since Steve got that text and you almost lost your shit. A week since you realized how deep your feelings for him actually ran. 

When you had woken up that next day Steve was still there, hand still on your hip with his head thrown back in what couldn’t be comfortable as he slept beside you. He woke up soon after and both of you just…pretended it hadn’t happened. The last week had been normal, so normal you’d convinced yourself that night was some sort of glitch. 

Steve continued to spend most of his days with you, continued to flash those smug grins your way when he sees something inappropriate and you continue to flush under his stare, preen under his praise and stick to his side like glue. 

That’s how you are now, sprawled under that same big tree Steve had come to apologize to you under all those weeks ago. He’s sitting up with his legs stretched out in front of him and your head is on his lap, Eddie beside you hunched over and working on something you can’t see, Robin beside Steve with a book she’s not reading in her hand. 

He’d also been spending more time with the three of you and it made your heart warm. All your favorite people getting along and hanging out.

“We should all go to Lansdowne this weekend.” That suggestion couldn’t have come from anyone but Steve. Eddie scrunches his nose at the thought immediately, tongue sticking out like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Robin groans like she’s physically pained by the thought. 

“Now don’t sound too excited.” Lansdowne was a little pub near Fenway Park that Steve was obsessed with. They usually had live music and were packed to the brim with bodies every weekend. Robin and Eddie despised it, always too crowded for their liking. 

“I’ll go, Steve. But you’re buying my first drink.” 

“That’s my girl!” He patted your head like you were a puppy, grin wide as he turned to stick out his tongue at Eddie and Robin who just rolled their eyes dramatically and went back to ignoring whatever Steve would ramble on about next. 

Neither of you noticed the way Eddie and Robin watched you, knowing smiles on both their faces as they took the sight of you two in. They watched Steve brush your hair out of your face, a look of fondness on his face that Robin hasn’t seen him show anyone before. They watch you snuggle into him, content and comfort written all over your features. 

————-

There was a small bit of regret about quickly agreeing to go out with Steve. Friday came before you knew it and you were tired, so tired from a long week of school and work. It seemed like everything that could have gone wrong this week, did and it had you mentally and physically drained. 

The temptation to text Steve and bail was clawing at you, but you couldn’t. Usually spending time with him was something that made you feel better, so you hoped that was the case tonight. 

It was nice out, not too hot but just warm enough to indulge in summer clothes. Dressing up for tonight was out of the question, you needed to be comfy if you were going to be squished against sweaty bodies and pulled through big crowds. 

That was how you found yourself now, tucked into Steve’s side at the bar at 11pm with a short denim skirt snug around your hips that you’d found in the back of your drawer and a cropped pink t-shirt that molded to your chest. A few inches of skin showed above your skirt and the feel of Steve’s palm resting there had you blushing already. 

You were both three drinks in, a nice buzz in your veins that had you giggling into his chest without embarrassment. When you’d seen him tonight, you knew you were going to need some liquid reinforcements to survive. He’d been wearing a dark green button up that he left undone, tight white tank top underneath that showed the outline of his chest. A pair of light wash denim jeans cinched around his waist with a belt. 

There might have been an audible gulp at the sight of him, but with three dirty shirley’s pumping through you, you eyed him up without care, taking in every inch of him with a palpable hunger. 

His breath is hot against your skin when he leans down to try and whisper in your ear, but ends up talking much louder than he meant to. “Forgot to mention it’s karaoke night.” 

“I am not participating in that.” 

That little frown he does when he doesn’t get his way pops up, lips pouted at you like you’d stolen his candy. “Why not?” 

“Between the two of us you’re the rockstar, Harrington, not me.” 

Before he could open his mouth to argue, someone called his name from across the bar, a man holding a clipboard that looked less than impressed with his job. Somehow in the short time you’d been here Steve had gotten his name down on the list for karaoke without you knowing, and it was his turn now. 

He gave you a quick wink that had you almost melting before him, a small smirk as he squeezed your shoulder and started to push his way through the crowds of people. “Eyes on me, baby.” 

Liked you’d be able to look anywhere else. 

You watch him hop up on the small stage that’s only a few feet tall, no hint of nervousness on his face as he smiles at the small crowd that’s paying attention to him. There’s lights focused on him and you think he was made to be in the spotlight with how good he looks up there. You’re somewhere in the middle of the crowd but he spots you easily, winking before he strips off his button down, tossing it to the side of him. 

The sight of him up there with his tank top tucked nicely into his jeans does little to help with the fuzziness you were already feeling from the drinks. You’re careful not to drool at his arms on display, bulging slightly when he lifts them to grip his hands around the mic. 

“Hello, Boston!” 

You’d think this was his personal show the way the crowd cheered back at him, encouraging what you know was nothing but mischievous behavior. He’s getting the attention of more of the bar the longer he stands up there and you can’t blame them, he’s a sight to see. 

“You all look beautiful tonight!” 

A laugh bubbles out of you when the beginning notes of Mr. Brightside by the Killers boom from the speakers behind him, not sure why you expected anything else from him. 

He’s practically bouncing on his heels as he sings the first few notes—and so is his hair. But your laughter and amusement is quickly replaced by something fiery and strong that builds in your stomach as you watch him. 

His hands are wrapped around the microphone in front of him, eyes screwed shut when he gets to the chorus and you feel like you’re on fire. During a pause his head is thrown back, throat bobbing for everyone to see and you try to trace the beads of sweat running down his throat from your spot in the middle of the bar. 

When he starts singing again—and fuck he’s good—his eyes are open and on yours, coming so close to the microphone you can see the way his lips pucker against it on certain notes and you’re thankful it’s so packed in here, the people around you keeping you from falling to the ground. 

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis

But it's just the price I pay, destiny is calling me

Open up my eager eyes, 'cause I'm Mr. Brightside

About seven feet are between you but with the bright lights shining on him you watch in awe as his raspberry lips wrap around the words and his tongue swipes out and darts across them every few seconds. He looks ethereal on that stage, hair slicked back from running his fingers through it and hips rocking side to side in time with the beat. 

His voice is pure silk and honey, like he was born to sing this song and it has your heart racing so fast in your chest it’s hard to catch your breath. He’s jumping around, putting on a noteworthy performance while the patrons around you yell and dance with him. 

Every once in a while his nose bumps against the mic and you can’t get over how alluring he looks with his lips grazing the mic. He’s captivating, stealing the attention of almost everyone in the room now and your heart swells in your chest. 

It takes you a second longer to realize the song has ended, cheers and hollering making your ears ring as he basks in the attention on stage. You can see that cocky smirk from here, his eyes dark and cheeks red as he blows you a kiss when he catches your eyes again. 

Maybe you could use another drink after all. 

 —————

Steve was sweaty from karaoke, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck, button up he’d been wearing thrown somewhere and he was sure he’d never see it again. The tank top he wore was clinging to his skin and he wished he could peel it off, the stickiness in the air of the bar doing nothing to cool him down. 

But he saw the way you watched him up there, your eyes trained on his mouth or his hands the whole time and it made him feel electric. The way you licked your lips like he was your next meal could have him on his knees for you in an instant. 

He’d lost you when he got off the small stage, eyes searching through the crowd and sighing in relief when he finds you standing by the bar, chin in your palm as you swirl your drink around. 

That relief is short-lived when he sees some douche come up beside you, a charming grin plastered on his face and his eyes dark as he takes you in. Steve sees red when he places one of his hands on your waist, his palm touching your bare skin since you’d chosen a crop top for tonight. 

Possessiveness stirs in his belly, hands fisted at his side at the laugh you give him. It’s fake, he can tell, but it still makes his jaw clench uncomfortably. 

You’re not interested in this guy, he can see that. You’ve leaned back enough to create some space between the two of you and your eyes dart around the bar quickly and he knows you’re looking for him. 

Little did you know that even if you weren’t looking for him, he’d still be there. He’d always be there. Couldn’t keep himself away from you even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He’d become addicted to your strawberry scent and your sweet little giggles. He’d become addicted to you. 

It’s when this asshole lifts his hand to brush a piece of your hair away from your face that Steve starts to move, shoulders shoving through the crowd with ease and he sees the way your body relaxes when you catch sight of him heading towards you. 

The thought of someone else touching your skin, feeling how smooth it is and how it warms up under their touch has him gritting his teeth. His jaw twitches thinking about you looking up at someone besides him with stars in your eyes. 

When he’s within reach he lays his hand on your exposed thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh there and placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Told ya I’d be right back, doll.” He doesn’t acknowledge the man beside him, eyes focused on yours. 

Your thighs clamp shut around his hand and a devious smirk plays on his lips at the feeling. “Who’s this?” He cocks his head towards the man that had been trying to talk to you, not looking his way but finally acknowledging his presence. Douchebag is still there, watching the scene unfold in front of him with little amusement. 

“I-I don’t know. We were just talking.” Steve hums at you, eyes drinking in the little drops of sweat rolling down your neck and down your shirt. He’s itching to lean forward and collect them on his tongue, to taste any part of you he can get his hands on. 

You yelp when his fingers pinch at your inner thigh, hands coming up to grip his forearm in surprise. He doesn’t miss the way your hips shifted forward though, searching for his touch instinctively. 

“Don’t want these boys talking to you, do you?” He’s leaning closer to you but still talking loud enough that the prick who can’t take a hint can hear him. You shake your head quickly and he smiles. “It’s because you’re my girl, isn't it baby? Want them to know you’re mine to take home, mine to play with, mine to keep.” 

At this point he’s not even talking for the benefit of saving you from some creep in a bar, you both know that. He’s not just staking his claim so they’ll leave you alone, he’s telling you the truth, what you both already know but refuse to talk about. He’s yours as much as you are his. It’s been that way for weeks. 

For him it’s been that way since you ripped him a new one, tore into him for being an asshole with your big round eyes that twitched in anger at his attitude. 

You’re nodding at him with blown out eyes, thighs still keeping his hand trapped between them. The guy you’d been talking to is long gone but neither of you seem to notice or care. 

“So say it.” His lips are tilted in a smirk, knowing eyes watching you shift and squirm under his stare. He feels himself thickening in his pants, head of his cock pressed up against the zipper painfully but he doesn’t care. He’d stand here in pain all night if you kept looking at him like that. 

“I’m your girl.” 

His chest swells with pride, grinning down at you and watching you just eat up the unsaid praise. You’re blooming under his gaze, chest puffing out the slightest bit and his mouth waters. 

It’s hard to breathe when you’re looking at him like that. His stomach feels tight and a feeling he can’t quite describe takes over. He wants to feel your skin on his, to taste you, smell you, anything you’ll give him. But he also feels like he could be sick, just looking at you being too much for him right now. 

He uses his thumb to tap on your thigh so you’ll open them for him, pulling his hand out and tugging on your wrist to pull you back to the middle of the dance floor. Your obedience thrills him, makes his spine tingle and heart race. He should’ve known you were a good girl, the best one really. You don’t even question him as he grips your hips in his hand, pulling you flush against him while the music booms around you. 

Neither of you are really moving, just standing there pressed together while bodies push and move around you. One hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer so that he can lean down and talk in your ear where you’ll hear him. 

“Saw the way you were watching me up on the stage earlier.” 

Your hands are clinging to his shirt and he feels your grip tighten, smiling knowingly against your ear. He loved the way you watched him, the way your eyes never left him like you were mesmerized. 

“You looked good up there, like a natural.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Hmm, my rockstar.” 

The praise shoots down his spine and makes his body buzz. He’s watching the way your hair flows over your shoulder and he wants to tug on it, make your head fall back and expose your throat to him. 

You pressed against him mixed with the sticky air surrounding you is too much, his head feels fuzzy and he’s seconds away from biting on your lips and licking into your mouth. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

———————

In hindsight, deciding to take the train at 1 am on a Friday night was a stupid idea. Anyone and everyone in the city chose that time to pile on. For a second you’re worried you’ll lose Steve in the crowd of people but a few seconds later you feel his fingers slip through yours and tug you to his side. 

“Can’t risk losing my precious cargo.” 

The ringing in your ears is either from the feel of his skin touching yours or the tell tale screech of the train approaching. When it pulls up in front of you, your cringe at how crowded it already is, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat before you even step on. The doors open and Steve is pulling you through the bunches of people, tugging you through and moving you to stand in front him when he sees an opening. 

Your back is pressed against the opposing doors and you sigh in relief at the coolness it provides. That relief is short lived when you peek over Steve’s shoulder to see more people piling on. He presses closer to you to make room and your heart thuds harshly against your chest. 

His feet are spread slightly to be on either side of yours, arms over your head to hold on to the railing and it feels like he’s caging you in. He’s pressed up against you completely, your chin touching his chest and lips hover near your forehead. 

It doesn’t help that his arms are on full display, button up he was wearing long gone since before karaoke and instead adorned in a white tank top that’s like a second skin. It’s hugging his chest and waist and it’s taking everything in you not to lean forward and nip at his arm. 

And then you’re thinking about how he looked on stage. Pure sex as he captivated the crowd with his effortless charm and talent. You think you could watch him like that forever. 

Fuck. All you could feel was him, his breath on your skin and his body keeping yours snug against the doors. You’re not sure you could even move, not that you wanted to. Tilting your head back an inch you look up at him, eyes glancing over his strawberry mouth that’s tilted into a smirk, looking up further to see how he’s watching you closely. 

Honey eyes staring into yours scream mischief and when you breathe in you feel your knees falter, a sweetness washing over your senses. Just the smell of him was enough to have your skin tingling, hints of cherry and vanilla from where you were practically nuzzled against his throat. 

Your hand was wrapped tightly against the pole in front of you and the feel of the cool metal against your palm did little to help with the heat you felt burning through your chest. The train lurched forward and the hand that was dangling by your side shot out to fist at the fabric of Steve’s shirt. The fucking white tank top he was wearing. 

“Eager, are we?” His tone was teasing and when you took a quick glance down to see a sliver of his stomach showing where you had his shirt tight in your grasp, your thighs squeezed together involuntarily. 

“Oh please.You just happened to be the closest thing to me, Harrington.” 

He feigned offense, knowing smirk never leaving his face and you stifled a groan when you felt his stomach twitch against your hand. You thought that if you had to be pressed against him for much longer you might just pass out. 

When you look up to see you still have a few stops before yours, you release your grip on his shirt and try not to notice the disappointment that floods through you when your hold on him is gone. He seems to notice too, eyebrows furrowing for a split second before his expression goes back and he’s smiling down at you again. 

“Ya know,” He tilts his head to the side like he’s wondering about something important but his expression holds nothing good. “You look good like this, pressed up against me all flushed and pretty.” 

Arousal seeps down your spine and curls around your belly like a boa constrictor, your throat all of a sudden dry and you can’t seem to do anything but blink up at him. 

“Going dumb already? You really are precious cargo.” 

You have about an ounce of self control left and that’s what keeps you from letting a whimper slip into the sticky air between you. You know he can read your emotions on your face but you try and school your features anyways, lifting your leg that’s trapped between his and pressing your weight down on his foot. 

It just makes his sickly sweet smile even bigger and your breath hitches when he leans down to press his lips against the shell of your ear. You dig your fingertips into your palm when he lets his tongue swipe against his bottom lip and it catches your skin as it does. 

“Trying to hurt me, baby? Why don’t you bite me next? Pretty please?” He brings his hand up between you as he talks, uses his thumb to swipe at your bottom lip and if you weren’t on the fucking train you’d part your lips for him and take his thumb into your mouth. You think you want that a little too much to be so close to him right now. 

For the first time since you’ve moved here, the train is your saving grace. The doors pull open and the cool air of the night hits you, breaking you from whatever little trance Steve had put you under. It clears out enough that he can step to your side now, giving you some much needed space to try and get yourself together. 

The chatter around you has died down and while you feel marginally more in control of yourself, the smell of Steve and the feel of his arm brushing against yours beside you is enough to keep you on your toes. 

“Cooling down over there?” 

“Yes actually, no thanks to you.” 

He shrugs his shoulders innocently and if he hadn’t just been whispering in your ear about liking the pain then you might actually believe the sweet look he was wearing on his face. “Oops.” 

The next stop is yours and while you’re trying to figure out if Steve is coming with you or if you’re gonna have to figure out some weird goodbye, he’s already five steps ahead. When the train comes to a stop and the doors open he’s grabbing your hand again and pulling you out of the train and into the breeze that cools the sweat on your neck. 

“M’gonna walk you home, okay?” You nod wordlessly, letting your hands swing gently between you as you make your way through the now quiet streets. Everyone is either deep into the city until the bars close or already tucked away in their beds after a long work week. Few people litter the streets but you don’t hear much besides the buzz of the train pulling away and the soft hum coming from the person beside you. 

It doesn’t take long before you reach your building nestled in between two others that look just like it and while you fumble through your bag for your keys you feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the bar.” 

A noncommittal hum is all you give him and he’s not a fan of that, reaching forward and plucking your apartment key from between your fingers before you even register what’s happening. You reach out automatically but he’s pulling back and out of your reach. 

“Why?” 

“Why what?” You know what he’s asking and you’re just making this harder for the both of you but he’s had you so on edge since he got on stage and was all…rockstar and sex that you’re scared about what might come out of your mouth if you’re not careful. 

“Why have you been so quiet since we left the bar?” 

“Not much to say I guess…”

“Bullshit.” 

You blink at him owlishly, lips parted in surprise but you can’t deny the little tingle that starts at your toes and makes its way up your body at him calling you out. “Excuse me?” Your voice sounds pathetic and breathless to your own ears at this point so you can only imagine how you look to Steve right now. 

“I call bullshit. Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you blush every time you make eye contact or you look at my arms,” Fuck he caught you. “Or the way you clench those pretty thighs everytime I whisper in your ear or get a little too close to you.” 

Your chest is rising and falling harshly and if he wasn’t taking up every inch of your brain right now you’d be embarrassed by how he had you panting at him. Any confusion he had vanishes and you curse yourself for being so easy for him to read. Like a fucking open book. 

“Oh that’s it. Scared of what might come out of that pouty little mouth, aren’t you? You listen to me talk to you all sweet and dirty and it just makes you all dumb, doesn’t it? S’cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up! You…you idiot.” It was a weak attempt at a comeback and you felt yourself scrunch your nose at yourself while Steve chuckled. He stepped closer, his hands on his hips as he looked down at you. 

“That’s the best you got?” You were toe to toe now—literally—and you felt yourself shrinking under his gaze. You hated how good he was at making you squirm, how you felt his words on your skin like standing under the sun in the summer heat. But most of all you despised that you didn’t hate it at all.

“You’re an asshole, you know that? A big one.” 

He flashed his teeth at you, hand going up to his chest like your words hurt him. “Oooh there ya go, that’s a little better. But if you’re gonna call me names, I’ve got some you can try. How about dadd—”

“Steve!” You practically hissed at him, smacking his shoulder and huffing like a child at the way he laughed loudly at your expense. He laughed so hard there were little crinkles in the corner of his eyes, grin so big his dimples popped out and you had to stop yourself from poking at it. 

“Alright, alright. No need to get violent, baby. At least take me to dinner first.” Rolling your eyes you snatched your key from him while he was occupied, turning to your door and muttering under your breath. Asshole. Jerk. Moron. Hot. Hot. Hot. 

He laid his hand on your shoulder softly to get your attention and when you turned back he was rolling his lips together, trying to keep his amusement at bay for your sake. He had a way of doing that you’d noticed, looking like a little puppy dog when he wanted to. You hated how much it worked. 

“M’done, I swear. For tonight at least. Thanks for coming out with me, I had a lot of fun.” 

“I did too, even if you’re a pest.” 

“Oh c’mon, you love it.” I do. God I love it so much it’s kind of sick. 

“In your dreams, Harrington,” You knew you set yourself up when he opened his mouth, that gleam in his eye that meant nothing but trouble. You beat him to it though, and the little pout he wore made you melt. “Text me when you get home safe, okay? And thanks for walking me home.” 

“Anytime, sweetheart.” 

Reaching up like he was going to sweep you hair out of your eyes, he must’ve changed his mind because he pinched your cheek instead, laughing to himself when you grumbled at him and smacked his hand away. 

You’d watched as he walked away, watched until you couldn’t see him anymore before you finally went inside, trudging up the stairs to your apartment and feeling your nerves settle once you were finally alone.

It was like you could breathe again, that ache you’d felt all night still thumping but more dull now than it had been in his presence. You finally felt cool and relaxed. Until your phone buzzed about twenty minutes later. 

Steve: Made it home safe and sound. Not a scratch on me.

Steve: Well besides the ones you left on me when you were pawing at me on the train! 

Y/n: Idiot! 

Steve: We really need to work on expanding your vocabulary. Maybe I could tutor you. :)

Steve: Whoops I meant ;), it’s hard to type one handed. 

You gasped and you swear you’d just burst into flames from how hot your face felt staring down at your phone. Was he…he wouldn’t. But did you mind if he did? No. Fuck, no. But you couldn’t just let him know that. 

Y/n: Steve Harrington you are sick! 

Steve: What?? I’m eating cereal and texting you! Trying to multitask here. 

Steve: Get your mind out of the gutter you filthy girl. 

He’d played you and you took the bait so easily! At this point you should know he’d take any opportunity to embarrass you, you both knew you loved it. He loved getting you all flushed and squirmy and you loved pretending like it didn’t light you up inside. 

Now you were thinking about him touching himself, your thighs sore from squeezing together and your heart racing. You wanted to know how he looked doing it, what he sounded like…Jesus Christ you needed to get a grip. It wasn’t until your phone buzzed in your hand that you realized you hadn’t texted him back. 

Steve: Your cheeks are all hot, aren’t they?

Oh fuck off. 

Y/n: No! They have no reason to be! 

Steve: Oh they definitely are. You’re all hot and bothered thinking about me only using one hand to text you. You’ve got a dirty mind!

He was taunting you, you knew that. Baiting you and wrapping it up with a nice shiny bow. And you’d take it every time. 

Y/n: You knew what you were doing! You set me up. 

Steve: Little ol’ me? As if I’d ever do such a thing! I’m offended you’d even suggest that. 

Just imagining the shit eating grin he was wearing riled you up even more, your blood pumping and your fingers twitching as you typed furiously back to him. 

Y/n: Playing innocent won’t work with me, Harrington. I know your tricks and they only make my cheeks red because they piss me off! Go fuck yourself, idiot! 

Steve: You wanna watch? ;) 

You thought about throwing your phone at the wall, watching it smash into a thousand tiny pieces and letting every trace of that arrogant, smug, hot asshole wash away. But you were not so secretly relishing in the back and forth, your tummy a ball of excitement. 

Y/n: In your dreams. 

His reply was instant and it made you fist your bed sheets tight, toes curling in your socks and if you were standing you’d be sure to fall to your knees. 

Steve: Oh you know it, baby. 

Steve: Maybe next time. You’ve been a dirty girl calling me all those mean names. Come kiss it better?

When a picture came in seconds after his last reply you dropped your phone to your bed, eyes wide and pulse thumping in your ears as you took in the image before you. 

Steve lying on his bed, shirtless. He was lying against his navy blue pillowcase, one arm thrown behind his head and he showed just enough of his torso for you to see a patch of chest hair that made your fingernails dig so deep into your palm you were surprised you didn’t draw blood. His hair was tousled like he’d tugged at it and his mouth held the most perfect little pout. You assumed that’s what you were supposed to be kissing better. 

It had been several minutes since you’d moved so it didn’t make sense why your breathing was so heavy and why there was sweat gathering at the base of your neck. All you could think of was leaving your mark over his chest and shoulders, deep purple spots that you know he’d wear with a proud smile on his face. 

If he could see you now…you’d never hear the end of it. 

Y/n: Meh. 

He must have been sitting there waiting for your reply, the three little dots popping up almost instantly after you hit send. 

Steve: Meh???? 

Steve: It took you 10 minutes to reply with meh??

Steve: Liar. 

A sick satisfaction coursed through you and you felt a small sense of victory reading his replies. If you didn’t know any better you’d say Steve was a little upset at your lack of reaction. 

Y/n: It took me 10 minutes because I wasn’t waiting by my phone for your reply. And I’m not a liar, just not overly impressed. 

You were a liar. A huge lying liar who was only able to do this over text because if he was in front of you’d have been stumbling over your words and blushing like an idiot. 

And that little victory you had lasted all of 2 minutes because when your phone started ringing, that ball of dread from forever ago came barreling back into you harder and faster than before. 

Pressing accept you held the phone up to your ear and tried to get your breathing under control. You were gonna blow your cover quickly if you didn’t. 

“H-hello?” 

“Not impressed, hm?” There was an edge to his voice, one you didn’t recognize but it had a sense of sternness, of authority that had your hands twitching in your lap. 

“Nope. Sorry.” The words practically squeaked out of you, the less you said the better when it came to Steve. If you spoke too much he’d be able to know what you were thinking, he probably already did. You swore he had some magical powers or something. 

“Really? And you’re sure? I only ask because earlier just looking at my arms had you panting like a dog at my feet.” 

Your face burned with humiliation and you cursed yourself for the way it turned you on. Fuck. Any control you had was quickly unraveling and falling apart in front of you. 

“Steve, I—”

��Because when it took you so long to reply, you know what I thought? I thought you’d slipped your hand into your panties like some perv. That was my theory, but I can admit it when I’m wrong.” 

“I-I wasn’t! I’m not I just—”

“But you thought about it, didn’t you?” 

And well of course you had. How could you not when he looked like he did and when you could practically hear him in your ear whispering filthy, teasing things. 

You pictured him now, standing at the foot of your bed with his shirt off and his hands on his hips. How he’d shake his head at you, scolding you like a teacher scolding their student for not doing their homework. You can hear the smirk in his voice as he riles you up and it leaves you reeling. 

“I, well I—”

“Just a yes or no, doll. Did you think about it?” 

“Yes.” It comes out in a whisper, hanging in the air and you should want to take it back, to tell him no and hang up but you don’t. You sit there and bask in it, the embarrassment, the arousal. You sit and wait for him to give you something—like a dog waiting for a treat. 

“That’s what I thought. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m beat! You’ve kept me up far past my bedtime. Goodnight, perv. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

Before you can get a word out, a plea or a curse or anything he’s hanging up the phone and leaving you with your mouth hanging open and an ache so intense it makes your head spin. 

Idiot. Asshole. Jerk. Hot. Hot. Hot. 

He’s left you speechless, sitting there still on your bed with your phone in your hand and your mind running a thousand miles a minute. You’re aching and wet, embarrassingly wet, and you feel a need for him so deep in your bones it’s making you feel insane. 

A knock on your front door startles you, it’s harsh and quick and your pulse spikes immediately. Holding your phone in your hand you make your way through the living room, a seed of worry nestled in your stomach because who would be here knocking on your door at almost 3 am. 

Who besides Steve, of course. 

Just as you’re moving close to look through the peephole, he calls your name from the other side of the door. Excitement pools low in your belly, hairs on your arm standing tall at the promise of him just inches away. Pulling open the door you’re met with the same Steve you’d left just a short time ago, but now he’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts that hang low on his hips and his hair is still damp from the shower you’re sure he’s taken. A pink t-shirt is stretched over his broad shoulders and there’s a simple silver chain hanging around his neck. 

How does he always look this good? You don’t say anything, opting to step to the side and allow him through and he steps in wordlessly, giving your arm a squeeze when he passes by. 

Closing the door behind him, you watch as he makes his way to your room and you stand there dumbfounded, wondering what the fuck is going on and why he hasn’t said a word to you after showing up at your door at 3 am. 

Following him is a simple choice, one that leads you to your room to see Steve sitting on the edge of your bed with his legs spread wide, hands behind him flat on the comforter while he leans back the slightest bit. He’s stunning and it has you fighting the urge to sing to your knees on the carpet in front of him. 

It feels like a staring contest between the two of you. But instead of looking in your eyes, Steve is letting his gaze run over your body. You’re in an oversize shirt that reaches about mid thigh, nothing underneath but a pair of panties that Steve ruined hours ago. 

He finally meets your eyes, a small smile tugging up at the corners of his mouth that makes you feel jittery. “W-what are you doing here?” You can’t help but to stumble over your words when he’s looking at you like that. Like he could take a bite out of you. 

“What do you think?” 

“Missed me already, Harrington?” 

“Always.” Some of the smugness he carries with him has melted away with the admission and it makes your heart swell in your chest. The thought of him missing you provides a surge of warmth through your body. 

“I missed you too,” Your voice is timid, his stare making you feel exposed to him, “but I thought you were going to bed.” 

“Well that was my plan, but I couldn’t fall asleep knowing you were over here making a mess because of me and not come help clean it up.” 

Your toes curl into the carpet below you and you hope it will be able to ground you a little when you feel so…you don’t even know what you feel. Your stomach is twisting and your palms are sweaty and you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. 

One of his hands lifts to motion you forward and you do so without hesitation, your feet carrying you to him instantly. When you get close enough you go to get on your knees instinctively and he stops you with a small, proud smile. “No, no, I’m here to take care of you, baby.” And while the notion fills you with excitement, you can’t help but feel a little upset that you won’t get to put your mouth on him. 

And of course this just makes him smile even bigger, eyes bright as he takes in your frown and can’t help but shake his head at you. 

“Before we do anything I just…I want you to know I care about you, yeah? This isn’t some one night thing for me. I want everyday with you, everyday that you’ll give me.” 

“I care about you too, Steve. I think that was obvious when I scrubbed all the paint off that plate after I saw that text on your phone,” He huffs a small laugh at you, hands settled on your hips, “You’ve become such an important part of my life and I—I like you a lot, even when you’re mean to me.” 

He scoffs like the idea is foreign, playful glint in his eye the whole time and it drives you crazy. He has that look, the one that tells you he’s about to say something that will either make you hit him or drop back down to your knees. 

“Come give daddy a kiss then.” 

It’s the former, hand coming up to smack at his chest hard despite the way the name makes your stomach clench and your spine tingle. He just laughs, loud and steady, pulling you down onto his lap and smashing his lips against yours. 

His lips are just as soft as you’d dreamed about, full and slick with spit and you feel yourself pulse when he smiles into the kiss. His nose bumps with yours, his hands sliding from your waist to your hair and letting his fingers tug and pull while you push closer to him. 

“Fuck—you taste so good.” You don’t even realize the words come from you until you feel Steve groan against you, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip as if to taste you too. 

When you finally have to pull back for air, your forehead is pressed against his and you both try and catch your breath. He looks like a dream, mouth shiny and swollen, eyes glazed over as he takes you in. He tastes sweet, the kind of taste you crave at the end of the day or when you need a pick me up. Or just because. 

He’s shifted back a little so you’re not hanging off him and the edge of the bed, your thighs wrapped around his hips and your chests almost touching from how close you are. He’s tugging at the ends of your shirt, trying to pull it off but it’s trapped between your thighs and his. You lean up just enough for him to pull it free, tugging it over your head with ease. 

What you’ve managed to forget in the heat of the moment, what Steve doesn’t know but is quick to find out is the little secret no one but Robin knows about—and she only knows because you needed moral support. 

“Oh holy fuck,” You’ve never seen his eyes so wide and his mouth is dropped open so big it’s almost kind of scary. Somehow you’d forgotten your nipples were pierced, maybe it was from Steve kissing you stupid, you’re not sure. But he’s looking at your tits now like he’s got gold in front of him. 

Your mouth opens to tease him but before you can speak he’s moving his hand to cover your mouth, eyes never leaving your boobs and you have to laugh against him. 

“Don’t—you can’t say a thing right now or I’ll cum in my pants.” He sounds so serious, so pained that you whine against his hand all greedy and impatient. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, doll. Think I could cum from just lookin’ at em for too long.” 

You nod eagerly against his hand, the idea of that turning you on even more than you thought possible. He finally removes his hand but only because he can’t hold out on touching you any longer. His palms come up to cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and you sigh in relief at the feeling of his touch. He uses two fingers to tug gently at the little silver barbell that runs through them, watching your face for your reaction and you don’t disappoint. Your mouth falls open, a small moan slipping out and your hands grip his shoulders tight. 

“Fuck me. God you’re perfect, so pretty and sweet for me. Shit, m’losing my goddamn mind here, baby.” Half his words are almost slurred, attention moving between your tits and your face as he tugs and thumbs at your nipples. The furrow in his brow makes him look genuinely concerned and you throb at the thought of him being so mesmerized by you. 

He’s so occupied with your pretty tits in his face he doesn’t notice when you slide back a little, a few inches of space between you now. You’ve been soaked and aching for far too long and you think if he doesn’t touch you in the next few seconds you might cry. 

You move one of your hands to grab his, tugging it from your nipple and sliding it down between you to press against the front of your panties. They’re messy, your thighs sticky and you hope he understands your not so subtle hint. 

He does, cursing at the feel of how wet and hot you are even through the thin layer separating him from you. “Poor thing, didn’t even know someone could be this messy.” Your hips shift, desperately trying to get his fingers to catch on your clit. “Who made you this desperate, huh? Was it that prick from the bar?” 

You’re shaking your head but it’s not enough for him, hand moving away and you gasp, pulling it back and giving him what he wants. “You. It’s you—you did this to me.” 

Instead of saying anything he dips his fingers past the band of your panties, both of you groaning at the contact. He circles your clit twice, thighs twitching around him before he’s dipping down to your sopping hole, teasing his finger there before swiping through your slit to collect some of the slick that’s there. 

You want to whine when he pulls his hand out but it fades away at the sight of his glistening fingers, how he studies them for a minute before slipping them into his mouth and humming in content. 

“Way better than mint chocolate chip.” 

Next thing you know he’s slipping his hand back between you, the imprint of his knuckles against your panties hot enough to make you drool down his chest. 

Thumb pressed to your clit he moves in slow circles, just enough pressure to make you need more, pressing down onto his hand and trying to swivel your hips. “Want you, Steve. Need you.” 

“I know baby, gotta stretch you out first.” At the same time he’s speaking he’s slipping his middle finger inside of you with no resistance and it’s not enough. It’s like he has a connection to your mind, slipping another finger in immediately and you feel that ache start to untangle itself the slightest bit. 

With two of his much larger fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit, you already feel the signs of an orgasm building deep in your belly. You feel that burn all over, grinding down onto him in search of that pressure that’ll make your eyes roll back. It’s when he curls his fingers that you lurch forward, face nuzzling his neck as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision blur. 

“S-steve..” You’re almost there already, walls clamping down on his fingers and holding them inside while he speeds up on your clit. There’s a twitch in your thighs that he noticed, hushed praises in your ear when that string begins to fray, threatening to snap in seconds. 

And then it stops. 

There’s no more curling his fingers and his thumb is still on your clit. You pull back just enough to curse at him, his hand wet and sticky with evidence of just how much you were enjoying that. But when you see his face you know you’re fucked. He’s got that shine in his eyes that screams trouble, a devious little smirk on his lips as he watches the frustration build behind your eyes. 

“Something to say, sweetheart?” He’s taunting you, daring you to curse at him—but you don’t. You can’t fathom the idea of him taking this all away so you remain quiet, shaking your head at him and hoping your obedience will pay off soon. He nods at you as if to say “that’s what I thought”, hand coming up to tuck your face back into the crook of his neck as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you again. 

You’re glad he can’t see the way your cheeks turn bright red because you can hear how wet you are, the small little noise it makes every time he drives his fingers back into has you pressing further into him. He has goosebumps on skin from the feel of your hot breath against his throat from where you’re practically panting, little open mouthed kisses left for as far as you can reach. 

It doesn’t take long before that feeling is building back up, stronger than before and you curse against his skin. “Snug little cunt, greedy for it, isn’t she?” You think you chant a whispered “yes” into him but you can’t be sure, overwhelmed by the tight, quick circles he’s rubbing on your swollen clit and the wave of pleasure you feel beginning to wash over you. 

And then it stops again. 

This time you can’t help the whine that slips out, hands fisting his t-shirt as you writhe in his lap. He chuckles in your ear, smooth and teasing and it makes you mortified when you feel yourself drip down his hand at his meanness. 

“You can handle one more time, yeah? Then I’ll give you my cock.” The promise of finally being full of him is enough to push down your frustrations, eagerness and excitement taking over. He lets you get away with a nod, picking up a faster pace than before and you think it’s not for you, but that his patience is wearing thin. 

He’s rubbing harshly against that sponges spot inside of you with every pass of his fingers, your mouth dropped open with no sound coming out as you try and hold off. It’s too much, too intense and you feel lightheaded at how every nerve in your body is lit up and buzzing.

But apparently he knows your body better than you do, stopping just seconds before you begin to tip over and your shoulders sag in relief and annoyance at the same time. 

“Please, please.” They’re quiet little pleas that he can't even hear but can feel against his skin and he coos at you. It’s condescending and should piss you off but instead has you nudging your nose against his for comfort. 

“Told ya I’d give you my cock, honey. Lay down and let me see you.” You move to lay back, watching him stand over you and strip his shirt and shorts off. He’d forgone underwear and you thank god for that. The sight of his cock, hard and shiny with precum as your thighs falling open for him automatically. He notices this, of course he does. He’s thick and you’re suddenly very grateful for the prep he just did, you don’t think he’d fit otherwise. 

When he leans down to pull a condom from the back pocket of his shorts—presumptuous cocky bastard—you feel the urge to stop him but refrain. You’re already crossing all these invisible lines, you need to have at least some self control. Even though you’re desperate to feel him bare. You’re captivated by him, watching him roll the condom on and clenching around nothing as he hisses through his teeth at the contact. 

Seeing him for the first time, how hard and flushed he is makes you regret even more not getting your mouth on him. Next time, you promise yourself. You’d thought you’d be nervous for this, but you think you’re too overwhelmed with a need for him that there’s no room left to be nervous or anxious. 

Climbing on the bed he moves between your open legs, hands on either side of your head as he holds himself up over you. His cock is lying against you, head touching your clit and it’s making it impossible to lie still. “You still want this?” His face is serious, and you want to squish his cheeks at his consideration for you despite his hard cock pressing against you. 

“Please, Steve. I want this—I need you.” It’s all the confirmation he needs, reaching one hand between you to take his cock, running it through your slit and groaning at the way you twitch below him. After bumping it against your clit he moves down to your entrance, pushing in the slightest bit and squeezing his eyes shut at the feel of you clenching down on him. 

The burn of him pushing forward stings, but it’s a welcome pain that has you gripping the sheets below you, looking for something to steady you when you feel like you’ll float away. “Keep going, please keep going.” You’re pleading below him, mouth dropping open when he pushes in. He has to pause when he’s in all the way, his patch of public hair at the base of his cock catching at your clit and you gasp. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” His forehead is pressed against your cheek, his teeth scraping against the edge of your jaw as he tried to collect himself. “I don’t—shit I don’t know how—goddamn baby, never felt anything this good before in my life.” 

He throbs inside of you when you whine, craning your neck up just an inch to take the silver chain dangling above you between your teeth. “Fuckin’ hell, gonna kill me.” You lift your hips off the bed, urging him to move and moan around the chain when he slips deeper inside of you. He pulls himself up to look at you, hair falling around your head like an angel with blotchy cheeks and fucked out eyes. 

Thrusting forward, the tip of his cock nudges against that spot inside of you and you clench around him so hard his arms almost give out above you. This has been building up for weeks and with the way he edged you earlier, you won’t last long. He knows as much, thrusting into you and using one hand to rub sloppy circles on your clit. 

“Feel like I’m having deja vu, having you pressed against me like this, yeah?” It was just hours ago you were on the train, a few more layers between you but pressed up against him all the same. 

The chain pops from your mouth when he moves your hands to lay beside your head, lacing your fingers together as he stretches over you. Your piercings press against his chest just right and it has your tummy tightening, the added friction enough to have your head spinning. 

He looks mouthwatering above you, hair out of place and falling over his forehead. His cheeks are flushed and he’s holding his bottom lip between his teeth as he moves between watching your face and the way your tits bounce with every thrust of his cock. There’s little drops of sweat running down his sculpted nose and slipping onto your chest, your cute little gasps hitting his ears. 

You know you’re done for when he leans down, lips pressed to your ear and his harsh breath tickling your skin. 

“Takin’ your daddy’s cock so well, aren’t you, doll?” 

Eyes screwed shut you claw at his shoulders, his name leaving your lips in a curse and you both can see the way the nickname makes your face flush a shade darker of red, eyes turning dark and fingers digging into him. “Dirty girl, acting like you don’t like it when I can feel you making a mess of me, this pretty little pussy hugging me tight when I call myself daddy.” 

“Fu-fuck, Steve. Gonna cum—m’gonna cum.” Your words are hushed and quick in his air, rope beginning to snap and if he stops right now you might actually kill him. 

“Go ahead, soak my cock, pretty girl. Show me who I belong to, yeah?” It’s all it takes, rope snapping and sparks shooting down to your toes as you tug at his hair, your thighs tight as your orgasm crashes through you. It feels like it goes on forever, your body taught and ears buzzing and you can barely make out the faint curses coming from above you. 

He belongs to you, and he will as long as he’ll have you.

You feel yourself start to come back down, your chin pinched in between Steve’s fingers and he’s looking at you like he’s seeing the first snowfall of the year. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips grinding into yours and his breaths uneven and sharp. “Where…where do you want it baby?” 

Not sure that you can make coherent sentences right now, you reach up to cup your breasts, Steve’s eyes widening before the most pitiful cry leaves his lips. He thrusts into you one, two, three more times and each one has you gasping below him as aftershocks of your orgasm zing through you. 

He pulls out quickly, pulling off the condom with a sharp inhale and you think he looks good like this, all desperate and pathetic for you like you always are for him. You urge him forward, fingers digging into his hips and trying to pull him up your body. He moves easily, coming up so he’s barely resting any weight on your belly, knees on either side of your chest. 

You cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and pushing them together below him. He’s looking at you from under his lashes, eyes hooded and lips parted in a silent gasp. It only takes two quick strokes before what’s been building at the base of his spine snaps and he’s cursing above you, ropes of white covering your chest and neck and catching the piercings too. 

“Perfect, you’re so perfect—shit.” He works himself through it slowly, his cock twitching and his fingers covered in cum from where it’s dribbled over his fist. He’s staring down at you with an intensity that makes you blush, eyes taking in every inch of you that’s marked with him. 

“Look like a fuckin’ dream with these pretty tits covered in my cum. Fuck, doll, I’m gonna think about this for the rest of my life.” 

All you can do is smile stupidly below him, your heart bursting and your body thoroughly exhausted. He leans down and presses a quick peck to your cheek before he’s shifting off the bed, running to the bathroom and washing off his hand before he comes back with a warm rag, sitting beside you so he can clean you up. His hand hovers over you and you roll your eyes at the little pout he’s wearing as he looks at your boobs. 

“Are you seriously pouting over cleaning off my boobs right now?” 

“Who wouldn’t be? They look so pretty like this.” 

You reach for the rag with a giggle to do it yourself but he pulls his hand back, shaking his head at you and begrudgingly wiping his cum off your chest with a little sigh that’s a little endearing. 

Once you're cleaned up and the condom is in the trash he helps you up so he can pull back the comforter, both of you snuggling in under the covers—naked at his request. His chest is pressed to your back, his heartbeat felt against your skin and it makes you smile into your pillow. 

His skin is warm against yours, fingers laced beside your head and you lift your chin to place quick kisses against his knuckles. 

“Now that’s the kind of reward I could get used to.” 

“Steve!”

————-

It’s the next day and there’s a soreness between your thighs that has you smiling to yourself while you get ready. You remember this morning, how you woke up to the sight of honey brown hair nestled between your thighs, coaxing you out of your sleep with his tongue on your clit. 

The best kind of pain, where you’ll feel him for days when you walk or when you sit down. It brings a blush to your skin and memories you’ll think about forever to your mind. 

He left shortly after, both of you needing to be away from each other so you could actually get ready for the lunch you had planned with Robin and Eddie this afternoon. 

A feeling of nervousness settles within you as you get ready for this lunch. It’s not that you want to keep this from Rob and Eddie, but you’re not what you’d even tell them! These nerves were much more about you and Steve then they were your friends. 

Would you tell them you’re dating? That you like each other? That you’re just fucking around? This is what made you anxious, what had your hands twisting in your lap on the train and had you so distracted you stumbled right into Eddie outside of the restaurant. 

“Woah! Caught ya.” He steadies you, smiling down into your worried eyes and a little bit of that anxiety seeps out of you. This is your friend, one of your best friends! Who cares what’s going on, maybe he’ll have some insight that you can’t see for yourself. 

Eddie leads you into the place, a booth in the back already holding Robin and Steve. They’re both on one side of it and you can see from here that Steve’s unhappy about not getting to sit by you. 

You slide in so you’re closest to the wall, legs knocking with Steve’s under the table and the small amount of contact soothes some of the turmoil happening inside of you. 

Everything is going good, things feel normal—besides the subtle winks Steve sends your way to get you blushing—and you’re not even worried anymore. The table in front of you is filled with food, everyone reaching over and grabbing whatever sounds good. Arms are crossed over each other and hands get tangled when you reach for fries or mozzarella sticks or an onion ring. 

Robin is going on about something, you’re not sure what you’ve kind of zoned out a little if you’re being honest, when you feel Steve staring at you. You look up to his brows furrowed, confusion laced in his features and you quirk your brow at him, wondering what has him looking at you like that. 

It’s when Eddie speaks up beside you, cutting Robin off and bringing everyone’s attention to him that it makes sense, “Harrington, I appreciate the love but can you stop trying to play footsies with me under the table?” 

Steve’s face flames and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and out of your mouth, hands coming up to try and smother how loud it is. But Steve doesn’t recover fast enough, eyes darting to yours sheepishly and that’s when it clicks for Eddie. 

“Oh. My. God.” 

Three sets of eyes fly to Eddie. Robin is confused. You and Steve are looking at Eddie as he looks between the two of you, mouth dropped open in shock and you curse yourself for the storm that’s coming. 

“What?” It’s Robin that speaks first, eyes darting between the three of you quickly. You and Steve keep quiet, trying not to give yourselves away but it’s no use. “Oh my god.” There’s Eddie again, sinister smirk on his lips as he takes his time taking in your pink cheeks and the way Steve won’t make eye contact with him. 

“Oh for the love of god! Someone tell me what’s going on. I am not a mind reader.” 

“Robin, you won’t believe it. These two finally fucked.” A chorus of noises fill your small corner of the restaurant, booth creaking underneath you from where Eddie is practically bouncing in his seat. Robin squeals, hands going to grip Steve’s arms. Steve sighs, letting Robin tug him around like a rag doll in a fit of her excitement. And you gasp, smacking Eddie in the chest the way you do to Steve all the time. 

But neither of you deny it and that alone sends waves of relief through you. Not that you think Steve would, especially with the way he’s gotten over his bit of embarrassment, adorning his signature smirk and a look of pride as the people around him freak out. 

You don’t know how bad Steve wants to show you off, tell the world and scream it from the rooftops how lucky he is to even get to be around you. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, sweet and kind but not afraid to challenge him and call him out for his bullshit. God, he’s obsessed with you. 

Eddie’s rubbing at his chest where you hit him, pouting like a child as if it actually hurt. You hope it did. “Damn, she’s got some force behind those hits,” He looks from you to Steve, eyes lighting up and you know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth, “but you love it, don’t ya big boy?” 

Your head falls forward to rest in your palm, eyes closed as you try and pretend you're anywhere but here. You think you hear Robin gag from across the table and it forces a laugh out of you. Eyes lifting to meet Steve’s, his teeth are showing and he’s shaking his head like he knows a secret no one else does. His words fill the space around you and make your skin heat under his stare. 

“Oh you have no idea.”  ————————————————————————

(save me steve harrington in a tank top)

@aheadfullofsteverogers i remembered and hope you enjoy 💌

[merakiui]

Just thought about this the other day for the apocalypse au! Say the leaders succumb to the virus and have to be disposed of for the safety of their communities or pass away of other means. But! There’s a law stating that, in the event a leader passes away, the second in command or the next highest ranking officer has the option of taking on the newly widowed wife as their own along with any children they already had with their predecessor. Or as a means of uniting two communities in a time of desperation for new leadership, the widow is arranged to marry the leader or higher ranking member of a neighboring community. Ooor if the new leader is already married or doesn’t feel comfortable with taking on the former wife of their colleague, they can arrange a marriage between her and a suitor they deem competent and loving enough to care for them and choose a new bride from the existing bachelorettes in the community so they can uphold the reproductive responsibilities of leadership. Looking at you Lilia! Sooo much potential for murder plots, schemes, and power imbalance!

Just a thought of mine! Feel free to add and take away! This is among one of my favorite aus of yours and I wanted to bring it back around!

AAAA YES YES!!!! Apocalypse au is so back!! This is brilliant!!! :O it's a scramble to find an eligible husband for the widowed wife because of so many reasons. Women are essential to the compounds; if one's all alone, who knows what might happen!! >_< but also,, you're a great bargaining chip for the compounds in need of more women or have a low birth rate or, as mentioned, to unite compounds and communities that might not have the best relations.

There is so much potential for dirty tricks and evil schemes and murder!!!! AAAA imagine second-in-command who has been pining for the leader's wife for as long as they can remember, and now the leader position is conveniently open and you're in need of a husband to look after you, breed you, care for the children. :) desperate times call for the most desperate and morally questionable measures, after all. And you suspect something isn't quite right, but who can you go to with your theories when no one's willing to listen or believe you? Your new husband gets away with murder and is allowed to keep a pretty wife like yourself. A win-win for him and a terrible loss for you.

[57sfinest]

theoretical entroponetics: the post

okay. LONG post incoming. i have summarized all available information on the pale, separated into confirmed objective truth & in-canon speculation that may or may not be true, and then appended my own very detailed theory on the pale! this post is meant as a resource; please feel free to add things of your own in replies/reblogs (please tag me if you do!) or point out any errors i may have made. you’re welcome to use any of my personal theory in your own work but please credit me if you do!! (and tag me in that/send it to me, i really want to see what you do with it!)

Here’s what we *know* about the pale, according to in-game and concept art: 

It erases data, at least the kind stored on radiocomputer filament and magnetic tapes.

It has no dimensions of its own- pale latitude compressors serve to force dimensions on raw pale and allow navigation. 

The pale is referred to in the context of entropy

It arrived with mankind, but not immediately- there are 8000 years of written history, but the pale was first recorded 6000 years ago, implying that pale either didn’t start forming immediately or that it was so insignificant/distant that it went unnoticed for 2000 years. 

There exists a group of people who are actively trying to expedite entroponetic collapse; the ideology is called entropolism

To this point, pale isn’t immediately visible. Pale has molecular structure, but manifests as a waveform, and only becomes visible at a certain distance from the origin, once wave frequency is sufficiently high. 

During pale exposure, people experience “sense objects”: visual or auditory hallucinations and/or vivid physical recollections of memories. These hallucinations may originate from their own consciousness or someone else’s. c

People require physical and mental examinations before interisolary travel and are allotted a certain number of days per year as their pale exposure threshold. 

Overexposure results in a pale “addiction”- these individuals crave pale exposure, and it’s unclear if this addiction can ever be broken. It’s also unclear whether there is a point at which pale exposure becomes lethal, but given that it dissolves matter, we can be fairly certain that a given length of continuous exposure will kill. 

Radio signals, cold plasma torches and anodic sound are all used to manage the pale to permit travel through it. Plasma torches destabilize the molecular structure of the pale to create gaps, anodic sound widens and maintains these gaps, and radio signals rationalize the pale into recognizable dimensions.

Radio signals are, in return, susceptible to corruption by the pale, resulting in entroponetic crosstalk, where signals from the past or the future are transmitted to the present. CCP is one such phenomenon and is directly related to the formation of new pale through magpie interpretation.

There is a dedicated Union for people who work in and with the pale (the Pale Workers Union). They have two slogans; “The light purifies; The sound absolves; The pale no more” and “Son et Fureur�� (sound and fury)

Here’s what we may choose to believe about the pale, based on the thoughts and beliefs of in-game characters:

In conversation with Soona, the pale is described as a “curdling milk” phenomenon: “repulsive, but natural”

In this same conversation you can theorize that the churches were meant to contain the pale origins; out of the seven churches, six were destroyed during the suzerain or the revolution

The phasmid and whatever other lifeforms it’s communicated with believe that entroponetic collapse is comparable to an oxygen holocaust (i.e. the great oxygenation event), implying mass extinction due to a toxic overabundance of sapient thought

Harry refers to it once by saying “The wolf is at the door. It’s going to eat the sun.” so take that as you will

It’s likely that Tiago’s “Mother” is some manifestation from the pale, if you choose to believe that the 2mm hole is in fact a pale origin point (the concept art does confirm it’s a pale origin, but the game offers other explanations, so I won’t say it’s the only answer)

Inframaterialists believe that revolutionary action (NOT thought) may create a counter-force that will prevent the spread of pale; it’s unclear if any reversal is possible.

The world will be fully consumed by the pale in 27 years (I put it here because you may or may not believe that shivers and harry are reliably sourcing this information)

And now my personal speculation about the pale:

A quick and easy point: it’s confirmed that the pale has a measurable EMF “exhalation” frequency that varies with proximity. Strong enough EMF pulses can actually tamper with magnetic storage- radiocomputer filaments! Electronics! Fortress Accident data loss! This gives us a tangible explanation for why pale can delete data :)

This may also explain its ability to cause radio interference- radio frequencies are just a subset of EMF frequencies, so it’s possible that pale exhalation on *just the right frequency* is what’s responsible for the entroponetic crosstalk we get on radios sometimes

The pale canonically has an atomic structure, but it also has wave properties, so it’s possible that the pale has wave-particle duality on its subatomic level, like photons do

Based on this, entroponetics is likely a very similar field to quantum mechanics, which might be an interesting source of ideas for anyone (like me) who wants to explore pale-related possibilities

The pale could be a manifestation of raw patterns. That’s why math “forces dimensions” on it- it rationalizes or “tames” the patterns, which allows it to be manipulated to a certain degree.

There are several references to the pale that refer to mathematical concepts and patterns, saying that the world dissolves into “a tangle of azimuths and cosines” as it blends into the interisolary pale- more on this later

Steban comments that the pale is commonly theorized to be nostalgia or “historical inertia”, but it’s largely agreed that it’s “the past” in a broad sense. Thinking about the idiom that history repeats itself, it could be that history/the past is part of the pattern that comprises the pale, and that it’s also the type of pattern most readily perceived by people (people don’t viscerally *perceive* math, for example, but we experience memories)

To first define entropy: Chemically speaking, “the measure of a system’s thermal energy per unit temperature that is unavailable for doing useful work. (per encyclopedia britannica).” Physically speaking, it’s a measure of randomness or disorder in a system. Less work/less order = more entropy; it’s a physicochemical “winding down” of a given system

It’s commonly thought that pale is the entropic force, but what if it’s the opposite? (Keep in mind the chemical definition: less ability to do work = more entropy) Consider: the pale as less entropic, a cleanup force, recycling the potential lost by death and destruction in the universe. This in part explains why a dead person’s memory is present in the pale- their potential has been recycled into the pale in the form of their memories (their life’s *pattern*)

Enthalpy is a related concept to entropy and is defined as the total energy contained within a system. Holding the system enthalpy constant- saying the universe will always have the same amount of total energy, no matter what, according to thermodynamics- results in an entropic tug-of-war between the pale and the world. The pale wins through sheer inertia (again, inertia is mentioned specifically in game)

Overall: think of the world as “cooling”, losing heat and energy through war and death and complacency. Think of the pale as steam and heat, melting down old materials to start it all over again. (Kim says, *through entroponetic interference*: “it’s been a long, cold winter.”)

Consider: the pale as a sinusoidal function, eternally repeating. The pale recycling the universe to start a new cycle, “spending” itself, resulting in pale not being present in the beginning. Then, as the new things begin to settle- with the advent of the human mind, specifically- the pale reforming, slowly reclaiming potential, eventually ending the cycle to start again.

In comes CCP and magpies. Consider: CCP as a backwards transmission from the next “cycle” (after all, pale has no sense of time). Magpies as *pattern-sensitive* people who are able to decode CCP into something useful called novelty. They reach into the potential of the next cycle to build the potential in their current one- this paradox could be what creates more pale, because (and this is where it gets weird, I apologize) doing this retroactively increases the total amount of energy/work/potential in the current cycle to have been reclaimed by the pale for the next one.

Think of the pale as the compost bin for every single thought in the universe. The pale is the exact right size to compost every little atom and thought in the universe, and can hold nothing extra. But magpies reach into the future, the next cycle, and bring in extra. This paradox forces the pale to grow to accommodate the additional material, which also increases the starting potential of the next cycle. This process allows each cycle to accumulate minor changes from the previous one, which can snowball over many cycles.

Furthermore, to the inframaterialists’ point: revolutionary action would be such a radical shift in inertia that it would increase the potential in the world, forcing the pale to pause/shrink to “balance the equation” in terms of pale-vs-world thermodynamics. So maybe they’re right after all :)

And some diagramming, to explain the utter bullshit I’ve just dropped:

[cursedmagician]

so. let's talk about that episode shall we?

major ii 17 spoilers under the cut, and lots of theories. read at your own risk.

divider by strangergraphics ✮⋆˙

I have no idea what to even think about that episode. I watched this at about 8 in the morning my time, and now I am in shambles and have been for the last several hours. I'm going to dump all my theories in this one blog post.

my first topic, and the elephant in the room - THIS IS NOT THE LAST ACT. NO WAY.

I've seen people asking if this is the last act and therefore the last ever episode in the series, and to that I say... obviously not. there's still so many plot points to be resolved.

like, for example, why would they add in a scene of the prime shimmers going to the contestant grounds if they weren't going to do something for it later?

yes I know that they were already used as merely a small plot device to allow the episode to progress, but when you think of it in the grand scheme of things there must be something more to it.

also, and - I may be going crazy here - but there might possibly be some sort of parallel of when cobs tells mephone to go "home" with him. we now know that all those previous theories of mephone being made with the shimmer egg are correct, because of fan. since that is the case, I feel like it would make sense for mephone's true home to be with the prime shimmer, right?

I feel like this could be a plot point in the next act. mephone feels more at home with the prime shimmer than he does with cobs (obviously). he would meet them and realise he feels strangely connected to them, and then he figures everything out which leads up to him discovering his true family. and I hope cobs rots and dies FOREVERRR

another point to add onto this is that remember how soap and mic took that photo together in the last episode?

well, soap was going through her recently deleted.

on apple (and I'm assuming meeple as well) devices, it takes 30 days for photos in the recently deleted photo to be fully erased from the device. before that, you can restore and fully erase as many photos as you like.

at the end of this episode when everything created by melife has been erased, baxter is seen walking up to soap's phone here.

in a scene where everything is gone, don't you think this is weirdly symbolic? they didn't have any other reason to show this which leads up to the next theory.

mephone is most likely going to find a way to bring everyone back through some way, and it might be through this system. I'm not saying I know how he's gonna do it, but this will totally be some sort of factor in the next act. hopefully.

second topic - what about bow and bot?

and I know what you all are thinking. I know that bow is definitely not gone, since she obviously isn't supported by melife anymore. (I'm a little curious, bow mentioned that she can't escape the confines of purgatory mansion, but since now that's been deleted, would she be able to roam free? just a thought...)

the same could be said for bot, since they were made by fan and test tube and not by melife. but there's been some speculation going around saying that since bot was made out of materials from test tube's lab, they would be deleted too right?

I actually think that's not necessarily the case.

we have no idea if test tube's materials or her lab was made out of things generated by melife. for all we know, she could have ordered the mechanical parts from overseas. she could have dug up the space she needed for the lab herself.

all we know is that the locations made for the game itself are generated by melife. however, test tube's lab has really nothing to do with the contest because it is its own thing.

so I think this entire theory is genuinely plausible. bot might still be out there somewhere, and I'm not going to say on the invitational island because we don't know if that entire thing was deleted too or just the floor's face. they genuinely might be making their way over to the season 2 grounds right now, wondering what is going on.

which could possibly make way for a bow and bot meeting, AND they might team up too to save the day!! that definitely feels like a direction that adam would be going for, and I personally would totally stand for it.

third topic - can mephone X be avoided or stopped somehow?

here's what I'm thinking.

lightbulb actually managed to dodge mephone X here, and even though yes she did get got in the end, you can at least delay the process or maybe even outrun them altogether.

there must be a reason as to why only the person who is being targeted can see mephone X, but that's a theory for another day.

now, this part is less of a theory and more of an idea - that is supported by numerous twitter posts - but what if you are able to see mephone X with another me device thingy?

think about it, what if taking a picture or just going through the camera app enables others to see them, therefore allowing the contestants to potentially disable mephone X for good?

assuming my theory is correct and they do come back somehow, I doubt that adam forgot about this plothole completely. there must be more significance to this in the future.

we all know how the main writing team writes. they think of everything, down to the small details, and the reference previous things that were thought to be insignificant before!! reminds me of bfdi in a way.

fourth topic - misc stuff/yapping

and well of course I had to dedicate an entire section to just my yapping alone. I know I'm still pretty new to blogging, I don't have many posts yet, but I think it's worth it to just leave my thoughts out here for people to cry over also.

firstly... OJ and paper's last conversation was an argument. lol!! XD!! also it was so funny as to how paper got so ticked off after salt said OJ is her boyfriend. I understand that he might have still felt pretty heated after everything that had been going on, + the argument they had earlier. and I know that OJ is very important to paper. but I still think it was really hilarious. some could say jealous. "he's not your boyfriend he was MINE!!"

ALSO!!! also also also THIS fucking scene...

this is gonna haunt me for the rest of my life man. what the fuck. imagine if slasher movies were like this... like jigsaw or something. if I saw this in a slasher movie I would be terrified for my LIFE (something these contestants don't have).

I really really liked the scene where paintbrush was crying over lightbulb btw. jazzy did an amazing job at that, and they said that they didn't even cry to be able to voice it!! she's a very talented va, I aspire to be like her someday...

another thing I wanted to mention is this tweet made by brian a while ago (screenshot I nabbed from me_phone4 on twitter) yes this is absolutely going to be for inanimate insanity. no questions asked. hope is on the horizon guys.

ok I think that is the end of this post. likes and reblogs are appreciated, and also reblog if you want to add onto my theories later!

for now, signing off!! - CURSED MAGICIAN

[twinsunstars]

What if the Imperials Were the Rebels?

So I was thinking about if Star Wars had a “What If?” series like Marvel does, and I starting thinking about how some characters part of the Empire would be the rebels in another universe. I found it pretty interesting (and Star Wars should really do a “What If?” series), so here are my own versions of what roles I think the Imperials would play if they were the ones fighting in the Rebellion (and Palpatine is still Palpatine). (I didn’t include Kallus because he did defect to be a rebel in canon, so in my AU he would possibly remain an Imperial, as this focuses more on people who never defected and stayed loyal in the canon universe.) I’ll discuss just a few characters below and my thoughts on them.

Feel free to let me know your own thoughts and ask about any Imperial characters I didn’t discuss! I'll write small fics for them one day!!

Darth Vader: He would remain Anakin Skywalker in my AU, helping to lead the rebellion. Also being one of the Jedi part of the Rebellion, he helps to fight against the Inquisitors and lead the Rebellion towards the right path. The Empire had taken his master, padawan, son, and daughter away from him years ago and had assassinated the love of his life; he would do anything to bring them down. Is also one of the strongest pilot fighters the rebellion has.

Wilhuff Tarkin: I imagined Tarkin as like an individual similar to Commander Sato from Rebels and General Dodonna from the original trilogy/Rebels. He leads one of the main rebellion fleets and is highly respected as a commander. Was offered a position in the Empire but had immediately refused in its early days, not wishing to serve under this new regime. Has led many of the rebel attacks against the Empire with many success rates.

Thrawn: As a general and a pilot fighter in the rebellion, Thrawn leads one of the powerful squadrons in the rebellion. Often comes up with many of the attack strategies when preparing for an ambush, and is ready to command and attack when the Empire gets a level up on them. Often feuds with Hera Syndulla, one of the most powerful admirals and TIE fighter pilot in the Empire.

Orson Krennic: An engineer and a rebel commander, Krennic has helped design many of the weapons and starfighters the rebellion uses against the Empire. Has led many rebel fleet attacks while stationed in the base, helping to direct the fleet to their target.

Inquisitors: I viewed them as the Jedi of the Rebellion, as characters like Ezra, Kanan, Cal, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and other Jedi alive during this time would be the Inquisitors. They would be spread around in the galaxy, continuing to help keep up the fight against the Empire and protect young Force-sensitives from the hands of the Inquisitors. Have all met Anakin Skywalker and would follow him into battle any day.

Morgan Elsbeth: I felt like thinking about her and how she would potentially fit into this AU, as she did basically design those TIE fighters that Thrawn adores so much while she worked inside the Empire, as seen in Tales of the Empire. Morgan would be an engineer like Krennic, focusing her designs primarily on the starfighters for the rebellion to help them succeed. Has worked with Thrawn and designed the fighters for his squadron, watching the fight from the ground. The Republic was responsible for the execution of her native people, and now that it had become the tyrannical Empire, her only wish was to destroy it.

Edmon Rampart: I based this off some of the theories I would read about Rampart potentially becoming like Kallus and turning around to become a rebel, but we saw where that went lol. I see Rampart as one of the rebels part of the Alliance who had escaped the Empire after being caught by Hera Syndulla, conveying a lot of important information to the rebellion while remaining in an Imperial position. He has helped lead many rebel attacks and add successful strategies in the fight.

Royce Hemlock: You may be thinking, how does someone like Hemlock become a rebel? When I was thinking about this AU based off his skills and use to the Empire, I thought of him as being a lead medical doctor in the rebellion and partly an engineer, using his skills for healing and designing useful assets and weapons for the rebellion to take advantage of. Had not gotten expelled from the Republic Science Corps in this AU, but was forcefully kept in a secret facility for Palpatine’s wants after the fall of the Republic, and managed to escape. Not much of a direct fighter but knows how to handle a blaster, would rather stick to the base instead of being up with the pilots, but would do anything to make sure the Empire meets its demise.

Eli Vanto: A commander of another rebel fleet, and Thrawn’s partner in many of the rebel attacks and strategy meetings, Eli is respected for being the one to find out many of the Empire’s secrets through his spies scattered around the galaxy and his own aspirations to perform deep research into the Empire’s hidden goals. Used to only be a minor commander in the rebellion until Thrawn took note of his skills and Tarkin found him worthy of promotion to do more for the rebellion’s military.

let me know your thoughts and hopefully you found this interesting!

[lukolabrainrot]

Just a little palette cleanser after the wild day yesterday, and what I anticipate (might) be a pretty interestinggg week.

I want to add a few things as well:

I am not going to be talking about JD anymore unless we get SOLID confirmation something is going on with him and N. I can't stress this enough though (I WOULD BE ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY SHOCKED IF THEY WERE DATING). If you read between the lines just a little bit with the publicly available information regarding JD and what we know about N, you would understand why I have come to that conclusion. However, I am not going to specify about that anymore here, you are free to do some research though if you would like through SM. DO NOT LEAVE ANY COMMENTS THOUGH ON ANYONE'S PAGES, PLEASEEEEE.

I want to paint a little picture for you on what I think is going on (just a theory of course):

SOOOO many things played out on a VERY public stage for L/N during the PR tour for like 6 months. And they were NOT subtle about their feelings for each other, which is why a lot of us are still here on the ship. However, the situation was pretty messy BTS (particularly for L). I talked a lot about my theories on that here. Sooooo, I think L/N might have taken some space after the London premiere to process a lot of things, and I think things were quickly unraveling with A. The Italy bday trip bs was the last straw, there was a HUGE falling out of some sort, and L and N started talking/hanging out again and something shifted (in a positive way for us Lukola fans), and tbh this shift has probably been bubbling for a while. Then N proceeded to post all those L coded crumbs (and tbf, this man is ALL over her grid and L is okay with it apparently, she's been sending a message for a while if you put the full picture together). N has ALWAYS been private about this part of her life since being in the entertainment field, but for L, she isn't. Just think about that for a second. Why might this be? I'll let you come to your own conclusions on that... So how do the JD pics fit into all of this? Well, I think this theory sums up my thoughts pretty well. I think the pics served as a distraction to take the heat off of L (and L/N) because of all the hate and attention L is still getting because of his personal life. We know N is very protective of the people she cares about (and I think she REALLY loves L and knows he's going through a really hard time rn), and so she coordinated for the pics to be released early this week to get some of the attention off of him and onto her for a change. And JD is a good friend, so agreed to it, and will get some exposure from this which could help his career a little since he doesn't have the same level of "stardom" as N. I think the pics might have also served as a statement of sorts that a lot of the hate towards L was totally unwarranted and not justified. She can do something VERY similar to his "papgate", and not get the same type of hate. Lastly, I talked about my thoughts on a lot of the recent L coded crumbs from N here. My thoughts really haven't changed. N is VERY tuned in to the fandom, and wanted us to know about her mans y'all. If she was with someone else, she wouldn't have posted WHAT she has posted since the Italy bday trip. She can definitely be a little shady sometimes, but she is NOT cruel. Why would she kick him when he's down? She wouldn't! Sooooo, everything else we've seen the last week is kind of just smoke and mirrors imo.

One more thing, please remember to critically analyze all sources of information. Look at the FULL picture of everything before jumping to any conclusions.

I've had a lot of thoughts the last couple of days, so I wanted to get it all out. Just my thoughts of course, but I don't think there's any real reason to freak out right now.

[storgicdealer]

rolls up sleeves. today's short guys.

the short brought me SO much to think about — particularly, how the news outlets DO exist in the outernet, and how the showdown was seen from the stickcity — which does confirm that if they were around, it was impossible for vic not to see at least bits of it before.

so in this post i am . once again . compiling my thoughts into a big victim theory that tied in my Head

victim theory: the point the show went down

again. warning this is me going on a RAMBLE that is so insane that i constantly switch from one topic to another. expect insanity

in case i interpret something incorrectly in your opinion, or forget a major detail — feel completely free to add on! my memory is horrible

so. presenting the thing that the outernet and the internet are connected with each other, yet still have a barrier in-between them there is a possibility of outernet citizens not having access to it full-time. at the same time, so much stuff is digitally reliant on pc tech that i doubt outernet sticks wouldnt know about it at all

im thinking that when victim has been ‘unsaved’, one way or another — they couldve gotten into the outernet, also one way or another (this is a raw supposition that it would happen that early but). which made them separated from the pc/internet in the first place — severing them from knowing about how things really work there aside from what they learned when needed to survive, as well as knowing about the existence of other cursors.

and given the last, when showdown happened — this was their first cue to become involved in the whole hollowhead tragedy. a thing they didn't know before due to being out of the pc — which was also the point where they became obsessed with revenge.

we now DO know that the outernet has news outlets; whether they saw it on the news or themselves, this was their first step into getting revenge. (at the same time, seeing it on the news would sort of? elaborate on why rocket tech most likely also streams news n such. perhaps as some weird kind of thanks "for showing me where my torturer was" or, perhaps, wanting others to see what has been going on too/how much of a danger cursors are. it would support the freedom guy=victim theory just a tad bit if victim Did care about stick rights prior showdown)

(another point — i must mention that we now know that sticks have phones, and most likely their own in-gadget social media now — but we don't know if they have the same internet as humans do. honestly the whole reason why the theory of sticks not having full access to internet didn't crumble yet.)

going to investigate, either by themselves or having already been in rocket — they could've possibly found the tech dark owned (as well as the mega blaster that literally shoots things in the ip sky) and, importantly, dark's own portals to the internet — and perhaps, have used them, for minor things and scraps or, something bigger. like actual travel.

whether by connecting the cursor with alan or not, by the point of them getting into the internet they DEFINITELY saw what happened with them, chosen, dark. (ava 4 as well, but it is talked about later.)

and thats the point where theyd get the adobe tools = i believe they would have to go to a pc to get them, but i also am not against the possibility of them just. downloading it cracked or something. they got the tools and. if thats the point where they left the pc/internet and didnt come back (perhaps, danger of another user) it mightve been the reason they didnt know about the powers of second.

this whole thing elaborates on why they found the showdown in chosens memories first — having seen what happened, they wanted to fully understand what went down — perhaps where such power came from. it was kind of.. impossible to see sec from such distance? and there werent any news outlets seen next to the showdown site itself, which could explain why they didnt know about secs powers once again.

the thing that makes me doubt this in a way is the reason why they didn't go to alan right away, having acquired the adobe tools. but there is a thing i believe might explain that — victim saw, and realized that chosen, dark and them are peas of the same pod; that they managed to destroy alan's computer — and that they don't have such power to do the same ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(:{)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

having came back to the outernet, with the adobe tools — they might've started to enact the plan of getting revenge by gaining power that they first lacked, now especially that they had some tools to do so. them getting the instruments that outernet citizens didn't have before, perhaps didn't fully know about — they could've been seen as someone who brought something special to the outernet. they could've been a person that, aside from revenge, would want to protect sticks (it would genuinely clash with how they treated chosen, but at the same time i can believe it was their own anger of not getting what chosen "had". power and ability to get revenge on their creator.) — being seen as some sort of saviour or, at least, someone powerful — this is how they could've gotten up the career stairs of rocketcorp in the first place.

what makes me think of the box episode — this could've been the point they have acquired enough power to challenge alan, causing them to FINALLY hang up posters after 5 years (sorry it just tied in so well in my mind thats why i capitalized it. like holy shit thats the reason for posters being late as shit)

knowing about the showdown, they wouldn't put up dark as well, whether she was mia or . yknow.

what EXACTLY the power to challenge an animator, a god requires. oh this is a brainworm of mine.

knowing about the showdown#2, perhaps having investigated it itself — could bring back the theory of dark being captured by rocket and, perhaps, being in her weak state — used by victim in order to gain more power that they lacked. victim could've known about how challenging dark was to beat + how chosen and dark managed to destroy chosen's computer = a recipe to gain power to go at alan themselves.

and have finally gained enough power, whether with dark or not — they could've went for chosen, who WAS active — and difficult to beat.

finally being ready to go at alan, they went to get the only person alive that was connected to him.

i could also bring in the fact that they COULD'VE possibly tried to go at chosen for using his own powers for themselves as well — at the possibility of them being "good and powerful" in the eyes of society, being a "saviour" — capturing a well-known terrorist, moreover brainwashing citizens (a raw assumption, but perhaps even rocket) into thinking that they need to get him to get revenge on a person that murders sticks — that it is something that they were okay with doing. at the hands of their own, bitter desire for revenge.

one thing that contrasts it all, however — showdown has happened when ava4 already happened. and in case victim went to investigate their roots — it would've been impossible for them not to know about sec. but at the same time, orange used his own wit (and a small sprinkle of chosen silhouette flashing) to try and defeat noogai — and he didn't !! alan has trapped and spared him on his own !! which could've made them think it's not someone worth paying attention to, someone isn't powerful enough that they may need.

i must mention that it is possible for victim to gain the adobe tools without looking at the hollowhead's history after they were created at the time. for example, stealing the app and not opening youtube to do so, lol — but the whole existence of alan's tv makes it at the same time impossible, and at the same time — so confusing on why victim did not know about sec's powers.

im clutching my pearls . oh god this is so long

im going ins

i would APPRECIATE ALL of your input!!!

[hhbluedynamite]

TADC Headcanon/Theoryish: How Long was Everyone in the Game?

Just something I was thinking about. Now...I think this can still apply to the theory that years in the game could be minutes in the real world. I don't subscribe to the theory, but feel free to use this for your own thoughts. Because...really, even if time works differently in the game, all that matters is that the characters still experienced the time lapse.

Any hoodles, onwards!

(Disclaimer: Pomni won't be included because it is canonical that she's been in the game for three days; maybe less than a week if some time have passed between Ep2 and Ep3)

----------------------------------------

Before we get to the nitty-gritty, lets first familiar ourselves who was in the game the longest to shortest (translation: who was able to keep going without Abstracting) plus current age since both can help gauging.

Kinger: 48 (First and Longest Surviving Member)

Ragatha: 30 (Second Longest Surviving Member; Note she's not the second to be stuck in the game)

Jax: 22

Gangle: 26 (It was Jax who gave her the name)

Zooble: 22 1/2 (Aside from Pomni, they spent the shortest amount of time)

Okay, with that out of the way, let's begin.

Kinger: At least 20 years, 23 at max when considering his seven year education in computer science. (which could fall in line with the idea that the game was made/came into existence in the 1990s/2000s)

Ragatha: 10 years, give or take

Jax: At least 5 years, maybe 7 (So, that would mean that he was a high schooler when he got sucked in. He gave me punk kid/juvenile delinquent vibes)

Gangle: I wanna say she came around about a year or two later after Jax.

Zooble: Less than a year. Their mannerisms during the therapy session gave me vibes of someone who wasn't a newbie, but not entirely integrated into their new environment.

I also wanted to add that, including Queenie and Kaufmo, there were at least 11 other players (so...possibly more), all of which had Abstracted. I won't attempt to guess the others since we don't know anything except for the only named two.

Queenie: She's at least one of the earliest victims. I wanna wager she was the second to be sucked in along with Kinger. As for when she Abstracted...I wanna say maybe a few years after getting sucked in. Maybe after witnessing others Abstracting.

Kaufmo: I wanna place his arrival between Ragatha and Jax, if not after Jax. Everyone (including Jax) was affected by Kaufmo's Abstraction, surprised that it happened. Maybe he was the longest lasting member (aside from Kinger) to have not Abstracted. Of course, it could be that they have assumed that Kaufmo was less likely to Abstract because of his personality (you know what they say about people who smile the most). Or both.

[red-might-be-dead]

hello hi here to force strange thoughts into your brain once again, this time about jrwi (wow who could’ve guessed)

been thinking about this for a little but it’s basically what i think some campaigns would be if not podcasts, i haven’t listened to some of the older ones so i’m sorry they’re not on here :(( if you have any ideas feel free to add them btw :DD

RIPTIDE!!!!! - really long animated series

not an anime though, no matter how much grizzly wants it, it would be an animation style where the characters could have very clearly different nose, face and body shapes, really pushing my riptide nose agenda here sorry, each episode would be like 20-40 minutes long and instead of coming out in seasons there would be massive gaps in between episodes, from 2-6 months long, to leave time for writers and animators to get stuff done (massive team of animators btw, i feel like it would be pretty successful)

PRIME DEFENDERS!! - comics

literally nothing else they could be, just really well made, well performing comics (i’ve already talked about this before you can stalk my talk tag if you really want to find it lmao), the comic company making them would be keeping well away from movies n shit btw

APOTHEOSIS!!! - i wasn’t really sure about this one to be honest

i had to ask my friend and she said anime which i don’t agree with but i can see it, i think maybe a short book series where each book is 150 - 300 pages and is about a different god they have to kill/a different episode, i think that works but if anyone has any better ideas please tell me :D!!

BLOOD IN THE BAYOU!!! - i hate to say it, i really do…

bitb would be a really long really good 80s horror book with strong homoerotic undertones, a satisfied fanbase and lots of active members in the community making fan comics, films, writing, theories and art ect… until well after the book came out……….. and then it would be made into the most egregious and awful live action movie you have ever seen, the most awful casting (like chris pratt as officer dudes….. throws up) and even worse sfx, oh yeah and the characters would be ruined and the story would become so butchered it wouldn’t make sense, they would do some shit like cut out becky so kian just kisses some random lady (removing both a really good and well written character and a layer of kian’s character that i think is super important) and make rolan really be an evil bug spy the whole time so rand has to kill him to save the town also add in a whole new sub plot that never existed like the rand family is secretly a long line of bug alien hunters or something fucking stupid like that and the entire fanbase would murder whoever thought re-writing the story was a good idea (ahaha can you tell ive been through something like this before ahahaha, character morals and motives being removed and whatnot ahahahhahahaha.)

anyways………

THE SUCKENING!!! - live action series

it would be well made though, unlike the bitb movie it would be its own original thing, have great makeup and effects also be well casted and well shot, well written, ect ect, it would bloody and gory and not suitable for people who can’t handle showing bones and organs all over everywhere, lots of shitty rip off merch would be made though and the fandom would be 99% gay little freaks (normal suckening enjoyers) and 1% homophobic straight white men who get mad whenever they see soda and emizel having gay sex on screen or whatever fag shit that biting thing was

again feel free to add your thoughts and ideas and shit in the reblogs it would be nice to read them :DD!!

[stormblessed95]

I know this is a boring convo for yall. But Jimin literally sees JK likes his brother from another mom. Nothing he said about his album or during the show adds up to your theory of them being boyfriends. Dont forget he said whether he can even love someone (i didnt saw any Jikookers mentioning it as it wasn't translation error or album theme but his irl words) I don't think JK remotely comes to his ideal type nor he have that type of feelings for JK. I'm not talking about goofy talks they do for a lil funny moment infront of cam. But the real Park Jimin behind the cam totally sees JK as his brother.

Boring? No, id love a boring ask. Annoying and repetitive? Yes.

Are you trying to change my mind? Why? What does it matter to you? What you think of their relationship doesn't matter to me.

This post, also for you

Because the whole "your theory" comment. Bitch I KNOW you didn't read my posts. Especially because of your "I didn't see any jikookers mentioning it" comment. Because I did. And I even highlighted it in red. Sooooo take your stupid ass opinions to your own blog. Or at least to jikookers who are doing whatever the fuck you are accusing them of. Or at a very bare minimum, read the posts about the theories you are mentioning in the blog you decide to message. Because all this does is make me roll my eyes at you. Zero of any kind of productive conversation with this sort of ask.

I can't and won't give a shit about your opinions, if you won't give a shit about mine, by actually reading them.

Fascinating you know the real park Jimin behind the cameras. I hope you share your thoughts with him, not me next time. Thanks.

The funny little moments in front of the cam, like asking for kisses....

Jimins type in girl as per early year interview

Cute, shorter than him, long hair, nice

Jimins type in boys as per interviews....

Oh wait, why would they ever ask him that. Lol but he has been pretty clear with hints towards queerness/bi-ness. And he has stayed at one point to JK that JK is his type.... So perhaps next time you meet up with Jimin IRL, since you know him and all, make more an effort to get to know him better? Idk

Normally I'd just ignore you, but I'm so tired of all this bullshit. Take it to someone who cares.

[misty-metropolis]

People with complex dissociative disorders often have difficulty processing or expressing emotions. This can look like any number of things. For example:

Emotions being dramatically dissociated into individual parts, such that a host part feels limited to no emotion, but there exists another part who does nothing but cry, and a part who feels such incandescent rage that they are unable to function properly

Emotions being muted and difficult to parse from each other; alexithymia stemming from trauma / abuse

Emotions being largely dissociated, with random bursts of emotion that are scary and overwhelming

Emotions being very sharp and present, but jumbled and often in combination with each other. This may create an impression of being flaky, fickle, or difficult to please

Emotions cycling too rapidly to properly identify them or process how they are affecting individual parts or the system at large

This is a non-exhaustive list. Feel free to add on your own experiences.

For those who are interested, I also have some resources for emotion regulation, as well as some free strategies shared by my therapist, under the cut.

First, I know this has been said before but it really does work wonders, you need to pay attention to your vulnerability factors. Vulnerability factors are elements of your environment or internal experience that make it more difficult to self-regulate. A somewhat common community term for these is forks (in relation to the spoon theory). Common vulnerability factors include lack of sleep, hunger, and needing to use the restroom. Adequately caring for your body's physical needs allows for more complete emotion regulation and more energy to go toward emotion processing when it's needed. If you are sleep deprived, for example, and then become triggered, you're already expending so much energy just to maintain functionality that you're less likely to be able to prevent yourself from doing something you'll regret, like snapping at a partner.

I'm also happy to provide an overview of a few emotion regulation tools from Dialectical Behavioral Therapy.

Positive Psychology has a set of three emotional intelligence worksheets (link) that are a good jumping-off point for exploring where you're at in that regard and strengthening your emotional intelligence skills. The emotion regulation questionnaire (link) is a clinical tool that can also provide some insight.

First, there's the STOP skill. STOP stands for Stop, Take a Step Back, Observe, and Proceed Mindfully.

When you feel overwhelmed by your emotions, or think they may be at risk of controlling you, force yourself to freeze in place. This prevents you from acting impulsively and doing something you'll regret. Try to name the emotion(s) you're feeling as descriptively as possible.

Then take a step back and give yourself some time to contemplate the situation with a little space from it. It's not often that you have to make a split-second decision based on limited information, so don't try to force yourself to do so.

Take in as much information as you can about the events taking place around you. Ask questions of other people in the situation with you. Try not to jump to conclusions, or listen to your automatic negative thoughts, which are based on an outdated belief system.

Use questions like "what are my goals in this situation?" and "how can my decisions impact the outcome?" to guide your decision-making process as you proceed.

Then there's the Opposite Action skill. This is the one that I use the most in my daily life, as a person with Borderline Personality Disorder. Opposite Action encourages you to reject the impulses you feel when you experience a strong emotion, and to instead do something that is the opposite of that. A few examples (mostly dealing with anger, because that's where I use this skill the most):

When I feel frustrated or angry with a console video game, I want to throw the controller, so the opposite action I choose is to press the buttons very gently and deliberately, without force. (Consequently, I also notice more success when I do this!)

When I feel angry with my partner's behavior, I want to yell at xem or say something that will hurt xem, so the opposite action that I choose is to gently explain my feelings and ask them to explain what happened from their perspective.

When I feel ashamed of something that has happened to me, I want to isolate and hide from the world, so the opposite action I choose is to share my feelings (and the event, if I feel capable) with someone I trust and love.

The last skill I want to overview is Cope Ahead. This is a skill in which you practice ahead of time to figure out how you'll deal with a situation when it arises.

Step 1: Identify a situation that may cause you discomfort or strong emotions. I generally prefer to be more on the vague side, because details will vary and that allows me to get more mileage out of my cope ahead, but you should do it however is most helpful for you. Make sure you check the facts and carefully identify the emotions that might arise and interfere with your skills.

Step 2: Pick out your coping and problem-solving skills ahead of time. This is where Cope Ahead gets its name. You identify a situation and then decide in advance how you're going to react to it, allowing yourself to rehearse the possibilities and decrease the chances of acting impulsively*.

Step 3: Imagine yourself in the situation. Picture yourself going through it in the first person, not as though you're watching a film about yourself.

Step 4: Rehearse your reactions to the situation and any strong emotions it may bring up. Rehearse your thoughts and behaviors. Practice coping effectively until you feel like you can ace it. Do this in as many sessions as you need.

Step 5: REST! Do something that brings you peace to care for yourself after each session.

*Impulsive behavior is something with which many people with BPD struggle, and DBT was originally developed to treat BPD, despite its applications in other fields.

Sources:

DBT Tools (link)

Positive Psychology (linked above)

My therapist (can't link that one, sorry)

Also, I've taken DBT twice through and am licensed to teach it.

[melit0n]

EUCLID ANALYSIS.

Told you guys it was coming, didn't I? I apologise that this has taken a bit longer than expected, my mental health hit me like a bullet train, but I do hope it's sufficient.

Part one -> You're already here!

Part two -> Line by line analysis part 1

Part three -> Line by line analysis part 2

Part four -> Musical/intrumental notes

Part five -> The Night in Sleep Token

Part six -> Conclusion

Please note this is a general analysis. Although I do go into theories, both my own and others, this is just general thoughts. Also note when I speak of Vessel, I mean Vessel as a character, not the person, unless I specifically state so.

Tagline: @rilllvri @a-s-levynn @fivewholeminutes @euclidsvessel @tonguetyd @moonchild-in-blue @kkarmatic @branches-in-a-flood

+ Some people were worried about spam liking/reblogging the last time I did one of these big analysis posts, and I want to say please don't worry about that! I get happy when I see the same users pop up liking and reblogging my work, because it means you're interested in this enough to go through the whole thing. Feel completely free to add your own thoughts, correct any errors I've made etc. As per usual, my DMs are completely open to anybody wanting to discuss ST <3

Let's start off with the basics. ‘Euclid’ is the anglicised version of the Greek name Eukleídes (Εὐκλείδης), mainly known via the ancient Greek mathematician Euclid of Alexandria, who is seen as the ‘father of geometry’, and most famous for his work on symmetry. Its general definition is something or someone who is renowned and or glorious (A) and the lesser known definition is something that is a copy of the same (B) (taken from Euclid’s ideas on symmetry), which we’ll come back to in a bit.

However, there is another Euclid in history that we’ll be referencing; Euclid of Megara. This Euclid, similar to our mathematician, was an ancient Greek Socratic (having been a pupil of Socrates) philosopher. I’ll be taking part of a text out of his Wikipedia article since his ideas have been explained thoroughly there.

(we'll be coming back to him soon)

First off, this is an incredibly interesting choice of name for a song. Outside of someone's maths and philosophy class, this name doesn't exist to most, so the fact it's been chosen at all is intriguing.

Vessel has shown time and time again he enjoys sometimes elaborate references in his art, an example being chemistry and biology in TPWBYT (most notable would probably be ‘Telomeres’), so, I think it would be easy to say that, whether it be a reference to Euclid the Mathematician or Euclid the philosopher, that said reference is understood and intended by Vessel.

So, let's start with our mathematician, shall we?

What I find interesting about Euclid of Alexandria is that his life and existence outside of his work on geometry is almost completely unknown. There's almost nothing known of him, as a person, other than where he spent half of his career (Alexandria; Egypt, hence his title), where he may have studied (Platonic academy) and a general idea of when he lived (around 300BC). What is known about this insanely famous man who created the foundations of symmetry is incredibly barebones. People take Euclid at face value for his work, just like Vessel (both as an artist, and a character).

Further, we, as listeners, don't have much of an understanding of who Vessel is other than being a mouthpiece of a deity known as Sleep, someone once human now grasping at the threads of humanity and someone sharing some of his struggles in life (both with Sleep and unknown people). Like Euclid, he is barebones, we take him at face value; a vessel. He is both a mouthpiece for Sleep, a mouthpiece for his own emotions (obviously) and a mouthpiece for us. His experiences transcend being just his, due to his anonymity, therefore allowing us to connect and express our own experiences. It's music for the sake of music; expression.

Now, having talked through Euclid as a person, it's time to talk about Euclid and his symmetry. Symmetry in shapes is 'reflections, rotations, translations, and combinations of these basic operations. Under an isometric transformation, a geometric object is said to be symmetric if, after transformation, the object is indistinguishable from the object before the transformation- a copy of the same’. So, of course, this means shapes like squares, rectangles, parallelograms and circles. Circles are a representation of infinity, wholeness, unity and loops. What does Euclid do? Loop itself (starts and ends with B major, which also happens to be the same chord that TNDNBTG starts with), and loops the three albums together, musically and lyrically.

Now, onto Euclid of Megara.

Euclid was born in Megara, Athens and was a follower of Socrates (sneaking into Athens to hear him speak, and he was also present during his death). He is most known for his philosophy that good is the knowledge of simply being and that the opposite of good does not exist, aka evil. The Good is described to be a perfect, eternal, and changeless Form, existing outside space and time. A form of Heaven without a God.

This idea could be linked lore-wise with Sleep Token; Sleep could, in a way, be The Good literally. Bliss. Further, with the idea that there is no actual opposite of good, then how can anything be bad? How can Sleep, as a deity, have bad intentions if there is no actual evil?

So far, with these two notable figures in mind, we can perceive Euclid as one of two ways (and there are more ways to come). Euclid can be seen as quite literally being a form of symmetry; a parallel that Vessel lays his life on because it brings all of the produced albums, all of his stories, together. Or, we can think of Euclid as Vessel. This brings me to @euclidsvessel's post on their theory on Euclid; what if Euclid was Vessel’s name before he became a vessel?

The theory that Euclid could be Vessel’s old name is not only extremely insightful, but very plausible as well. They explained their points very well in their original post, and I don't want to repeat what they’ve already said, so I do implore you to go read that! It's not detrimental to needing to understand this post, but I highly recommend it. Despite this, I am here to both support their argument and bring my own comparison. Take a look at the cover art for Euclid:

Let me repeat the lesser-known definition of Euclid; a copy of the same. A clone. A replacement. Held in the right hand is the decapitated head of Vessel's old (2nd gen.) mask. Specifically, the one that covers his mouth; the version that relinquishes the most amount of humanity. The album art is a representation of change portrayed in a symbolically gory way. Beheading, depending on the era you’re working from, symbolises both vengeance as well as a form of purification. By cutting off the head, you remove any ‘unholy’ thoughts. It's also among one of the most horrific and humiliating ways of killing someone (since it was typically done publicly, and sometimes the heads were placed on spikes of battlements as a warning).

Furthermore, there's a theory that's popped up a couple of times, lore-wise, that Vessel is not the first person to be turned into a vessel of Sleep, and he certainly won't be the last. So, considering the literal album art illustrates a replacement of Vessel, I’d say that theory is pretty much confirmed. In conclusion, the album art can either be interpreted as how Vessel will eventually be discarded and replaced by another vessel, or how Vessel himself will change, for better or for worse; clawing out of his own skin to become “someone new”.

So, to compare the idea of Euclid being Vessel’s old name, and to create the third perception of what or rather, who, Euclid is, what if Euclid will be the eventual replacement for Vessel?

[prismaticpichu]

Why not, y’know?? :3c Let’s have some fun! Never done one these so go easy on me lmao. Feel free to reblog and ask away!

FF7 Ask List 🌎 ☄️

1. Gotta start with the obvious: favorite character? How come?

2. Favorite piece of music?

3. Favorite scene? What makes it so impactful to you?

4. Favorite installment in the compilation? (EC + AC included!)

5. Have you played every game? If so, wowsers! Respect!

6. Favorite ship? You into platonic stuff? No sweat! Favorite friendship?

7. On that note: favorite character interactions in general?

8. A line of dialogue you find hilarious? Heartbreaking?

9. Who do you consider the most “evil” in FF7? Sephiroth? Jenova? Pres ShinRa? Hojo? Hollander? Lucrecia? Other?

10. Do you believe Sephiroth is being controlled? To what extent?

11. Most underrated character?

12. Most overrated character? (If you think one exists!)

13. Favorite location?

14. Favorite weapon?

15. Favorite member of AVALANCHE?

16. Favorite Turk?

17. Favorite enemy/monster?

18. Favorite DMW cutscene?

19. Favorite fanfic? Fanfics?

20. Have you seen Advent Children? Thoughts??

21. If you could have one plushie of a character, who’d it be?

22. What is YOUR ideal Nibelheim fix-it? <3

23. If you could say one thing to one character, who and what would it be?

24. Who do you want to be real?

25. Would you want to be a SOLDIER? What color would you want your eyes?

26. What do you think is each of the First Classes’ favorite snack? (Yep yep we know Seph likes pasta shssjshhs)

27. What do you think is each of the First Classes’ favorite movie?

28. What do you think is each of the First Classes’ favorite song?

29. What do you think is each of the First Classes’ favorite ___? (insert your own!)

30. What adjective would you describe each of the First Classes with? Can only pick one!

31. Write a small letter to one character of the asker’s choice

32. Doodle a pic of one character of the asker’s choice. (Art skills don’t matter here! No judgment <3 Only fun!)

33. Write a 3-5 sentence fic crumb of ___! (Asker’s choice; can be pairing, platonic, or just a single fella!)

34. Make up your own materia/spell!

35. Favorite memory with FF7?

36 Favorite part of the FF7 community? <3

37. Make an FF7 joke/pun :3c

38. What’s a fanon thing that you believed to be canon for the LONGEST time?

39. Favorite fan theory?

40. Favorite side quest?

41. Favorite cutscene?

42. What’s one thing about any of the FF7 games (+ AC) that you would change or add?

43. How many lines of Loveless do you know by heart?

44. Create a propaganda slogan for SOLDIER

45. Make a silly acronym for SOLDIER!

46. Rank all the games/AC in the compilation

47. What character do you relate the most to??

48. How would you describe FF7 in 7 words?

49. What got you into the series?! <3

50. Bonus! Ask your own question!

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

I see the ask box open I ask like a moth to flame!!🔥👀✨ Potential TW for anxiety around intimacy(nothing graphic or descriptive) I NEED soft dom soap x reader w a SHIT TON of praise& encouragement. A bitch has a LOT of anxiety and need someone to talk me through it, and can it be they’re already together? Anything else fluffy pls add whatever you’d like!!! Thank you & feel free to ignore if you don’t vibe! Peace out!!✌🏼

Hi love, sorry it took so long but here you go <3

Thought I'd go with your first time with him. Lyrics to Francessca by Hozier are used.

The atom soulmate theory: The idea that during the big bang, the atoms that make us were split into two, creating soulmates aka our other half.

Times like these are meant to be exciting, loved, desired. Why aren't they? He kisses you like you're sculpted by Michaelangelo himself, as if you are his own angel. You are. His hand cupping your face, thumb gently caressing just below your eyes. So gentle you almost miss it. You don't.

He tries to gently pull you on to his lap, but you pull back, knowing where it will lead. He looks up at you, confusion lightly etched onto his face.

Do you think I'd give up?

"What's wrong, bonnie? Why do ya do this?" he softly asks, hand moving to cup your jaw, thumb gently swiping over you bottom lip.

"I don't think I can" you say quietly, not even meaning to fully say it. You move to get off the couch, but he grabs your wrist, pulling to sit you on his lap.

"What do ya mean you can't? What's wrong?" He asks, softly kissing your collar bone, looking up at you.

It's time. He never wants you to hide from him because you're scared of the outcome.

"I wanna be good. I'm don't wanna be disappointing.. And before you say I couldn't or something, you don't know that. I could be. I know you love me, and you've been so patient. I just don't want the wait to not be worth it. You deserve the best, or at least satisfying and I dunno if I ca-" you begin to ramble but are cut off by his lips covering yours. He holds the back of your head. Not harshly but to keep you there. He pulls away, forehead against yours.

That this might have shook the love from me?

Or that I was on the brink

"That's what this is about?" He asks in a near whisper.

"Mhm.." you say quietly as well.

"Mo leannan" he lightly chuckles, "Why didn't ya tell me sooner?"

"Didn't wanna bother you" You say, heart pounding and throat beginning to tighten as your anxiety rises.

He gently and slowly lays you down on the couch, hovering over you, hand holding your waist.

"My love fer ya innt dependent on sex. Yer so beautiful, how could ya possibly disappoint?" He asks as he softly kisses your neck.

How could you think, darlin, I'd scare so easily?

Now that it's done

You stay quiet, not wanting to argue, slipping into wanting his praise. He slowly moves down your body, gently lifting your shirt to your ribs, softly kissing your ribs, moving down to above your belly button and below your belly button.

"So fucking beautiful, so soft" He whispers into your skin, hands caressing your sides. His hands move down to your pants, and looks up at you.

"Can I?"

You pause for a second, the feeling reappearing in your throat. You shakily nod, hoping to be wrong, faking the courage.

"Words, bonnie" He kisses your stomach again.

"yes" You say quietly.

"Good gal" He gently pulls your pants off, discarding them next to the couch. His breath hitches as he slowly removes your underwear.

"Beautiful" He looks at you as he spreads your legs, laying soft kisses to the inside of your thighs, moving to your cunt. You subconsciously close your legs slightly.

There's not one thing that I would change

My life was a storm since I was born

How could I fear any hurricane?

"Hey, sweetheart. It's okay, just lay back fer me. Close your eyes for me, alright?"

Your lip slightly quivers, but you listen to what he says. You sink into the couch. He laces his hands with yours, thumbs gently moving against the back of your hands. You let out a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves.

"Tha right, just breath for me, okay mo ghràdh? Good girl"

That's easy enough. Inhale, exhale.

Inhale

Exhale

His tongue licks a stripe up your cup, the feeling causes you to take a sharp inhale at the feeling. He pauses for a second.

"Fuck" He exhales, leaning in for more.

"What's wrong?" You lift up to look at him. One of this hands moves to gently push your chest back down.

"Best fouckin taste. Been keepin this from me, tastes like heaven" He slightly groans, tongue flicking against your clit.

If someone asked me at the end, I'd tell them put me back in it

Darlin, I would do it again

Your hand grips his hair slightly, more resting against it. You let out a long exhale.

"Johnny" You whine, head going fuzzy from the soft pleasure.

"I know, sweetheart, I know" His hands leave you to move your legs up and over his shoulder, feet against his back. His hands grip your thighs, a bit of your fat squished between his fingers. Not enough to leave a mark, but a firm grip.

If I could hold you for a minute

Darlin, I'd go through it again

He alternates between sucking and licking your clit. You moan, hands holding the back of his head.

"I love ya, so much" He whispers between your thighs.

You feel tears beginning to well in your eyes.

I would still be surprised I could find you

Darlin in any life

"I love you" You sniffle, "Thank you"

"Meant fer eachothar, swear teh god we are" He sits up, lifting his shirt off over him, and takes of his jeans.

He leans down to kiss you, lifting your head up to meet him halfway. You fully lift up to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands hold the small of your back, as if you'd disappear. He lays you back down, and removes his boxers, cock springing out. He's not ridiculously long, about 6.5 inches, but thick. He leans back down, kissing your neck so so softly. He slowly grinds his cock against your clit, the stimulation slightly making you jolt.

"Do ya want this, if yer not ready, we dinnae have tah" He whispers into your neck.

"Want you, just dunno what to do" You say, hands cupping the back of his neck.

For all that was said

Of where we'd end up at the end of it

When the heart would cease, ours never knew peace What good would it be on the far side of things?

"Ya already do so much just layin here" He reassures, lining up to your entrance, "Just relax for me, sweet gal"

You inhale and nod. He kisses your upper chest as he slowly pushes in. You let out a shakey breath, hand slightly scratching up his upper back.

"Good job, bonnie. Doin so good fer me" he says as he pushes in more.

It was too soon When that part of you was ripped away A grip taking hold like a cancer that grows Each piece of your body that it takes

"'M not like em, I promise. You're like a fouckin angel to me" He says, as if he already knew the other men you had been with had taken you for granted.

"Don't wanna let you down" You inhale.

"Never" he pushes in all the way, letting out a groan, "so fouckin tight"

He gives you a moment to adjust, before slowly grinding into you. His arm moves to fully hold you by your lower back.

"Johnny, please, need you to go faster" You whimper, trying to grind into him.

"Shh, needa appreciate 'er" He whispers against your skin.

Though I know my heart would break

I'd tell them put me back in it

Darlin, I'd do it again

If I could hold you for a minute

Darlin, I'd go through it again

"Thank you" He kisses you more passionately than before.

"For what?" You whine as hethrusts into you a little deeper than before, as if trying to become a part of you.

"This, everything, to feel ya, fer choosin me" He exhales, "Dinnae ken how I even looked at anyone before ya"

I would not change it each time Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I I would not change it each time

"I promise there int an after ya" He promises, breath fanning against your collar bone.

Before you can respond, the coil in your stomach begins to tighten.

"Johnny" you try to warn, "I'm gonna cum"

"I know, bonnie. 'M gonna too. Let go fer me" He groans into your neck, slightly speeding up, pace faltering.

Your whines get higher and higher pitched, the cord finally snapping with a cry as you tumble off the edge.

"Johnny!" You cry out, clutching onto him.

With a groan, he spills into you, holding onto you like a lifeline.

"Oh fuck" He damn near whimpers, gasping.

As your orgasms fade away, he leans in to kiss you, softly kissing your cheeks, then your forehead, and lastly your closed eyes.

"So so good, bonnie. Better than I imagined" He whispers, forehead leaning against yours.

"Most beautiful fouckin soul I would've ev'r met"

I would not change it each time

The atom soulmate theory: The idea that during the big bang, the atoms that make us were split into two, creating soulmates aka our other half.

[cartoon-cass]

Absolute Solver's influence

Absolute Solver (AS from here on out) has the ability to possess, so I thought for clarity I'd list all the characters under AS influence, from possession to manipulation. This will be sticking closely to canon so wilder theories like solver Khan, Thad, etc will be left out but feel free to add if you like.

This turned out longer then I thought so it's going under a read more.

Unpatched AS

This would be Uzi, Nori, Cyn and any others that have the world altering powers. Cyn was patient 0 and it's unclear if there's anything left of her or she still has a mind of her own, at this point we can't tell. Uzi and Nori still have their own personalities but AS can over ride them in some cases. I should note Nori, and there for possibly Uzi, have the Patch 2.1.8 "in progress" what this entails is unclear but AS did think Nori was dead and did not try possessing her in episode 7 so take from that what you will.

The humans in Cabin fever labs transferred AS to other drones but most if not all are dead at this point.

Patch 2.1.8

Yeva had this version of AS, they can use the powers but presumably can't be possessed. It's never actually out right stated that that's what the patch does but it's implied. Yeva seemingly long dead unless she's like Nori. Doll likely had this patch too and that's why Tessa/Cyn ASMR mukbanged her core in episode 7.

The Cross patch was also destroyed so unless Nori copied the code while we were not looking this patch is not likely coming back.

Disassembly Drones, aka DDs

So the DD's are difficult but I'll try my best, this is more going into theories then canon but that's Murder Drones for you. We know from episode 5 that the DDs worked in the Elliott Manor before AS came along. During the gala J and V were possessed, and N was tied to a tree, presumably he got possessed too at some point but it's unclear.

Some time between the gala and now they changed to look like how they do today, the main question how and why? We can safely say at this point it's clear AS made the DDs possible using part of the very machines that were used to disassemble drones. We see in the Zombie Drone tapes the disassembly unit has what looks like a DDs arm with the distinct yellow and black stripes. We also see the DDs with there complete look go absolutely nuts on some humans in episode 7 which means they were being possessed then too, unless N secretly really likes eating humans / joking.

J also got possessed and went spooky snake crab in episode 2 after Uzi blew her up.

All this makes it seem that the DDs can be possessed too but then why do they bother manipulating in the show? Why lie and make up a whole story of the company sending them to kill worker drones? It could be that it takes a lot of energy and that was easier but I think were told why in episode 7, where AS pretends to be V to taunt N. "You know you're (N) one of the main reasons I wanted your team to retain your personalities, you always surprised me" their just playing with them, it's more entertaining for them not for any grand plan.

Right after they say that line they hug N making him flashback to what he did to the humans but then we see this

Access denied contact admin "darkXWolf17", which is Uzi! AS was trying to possess N here but couldn't that's why they drag N along until Nori saved him. That's why in episode 1 administration"Cyn" blocked the absolute solver string, they wanted to see what N would do.

This mean N and V can't be possessed as Uzi is there administrator but J and any other DDs out there can, and who was gearing up for a fight at the end of episode 7? J!

So in conclusion, Cyn is the main drone to be possessed. Uzi and Nori can be possessed but it can be limited. Yeva and Doll can't be possessed but are dead and the DDs including J can be possessed but after episode 5 V and N can't be possessed.