#i dunno if that’s actually a tag i can’t remember

[soni-dragon]

OKAY THIS ISNT A QUESTION BUT I HAVE TO TELL YOU I FOLLOWEED BECAUSE OF THE AMAZING DEVIL LYRICS ON YOUR BLOG OK MAYBE I HAVE A QUESTION HOW MUCH OF THE AMAZING DEVIL'S ALBUMS DO U THINK FITS INEFFABLE HUSBANDS (THIS IS A TRICK QUESTION BUT ALSO THERE IS A CORRECT ANSWER) no pressure btw i just got rly fucking excited

OH HI THIS ASK MAKES ME SO HAPPY I LOVE CHATTING ABOUT THE AMAZING DEVIL!! This is so funny I was literally ABOUT to make an ineffable husbands post with amazing devil lyrics as the caption

BUT ANYWAYS SO MANY OF THEM DO!! I may have just added the entirety of Love Run to my playlist lmao. After the new season ruin and marbles and rockrose and the thistle make me weep :’)

Also battle cries!! (I won’t let you turn our last night into this I’m going to binge watch a box set, drink wine, reminisce this isn’t a break up, dear heart, it’s a season finale) Blossoms fits very well for both of them after this season in my opinion, and horror and the wild fits for the line “give me back my heart you wingless thing” hehe

If you can’t tell amazing devil has been on my mind these past few days, ty so much for asking!! :DD

[bambeebirdie]

Alright so I just finished Earthspark and boy fucking howdy do I have opinions, but I’m not talking about those right now because I’m tired and the ending broke me in such a way I no longer care about anything.

What I would like to say though is I think Tanatulas should have been replaced with Shockwave in that on episode he had with Nightshade. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Tanatulas. He was literally so good, I loved his designs and his vibes and the only bad thing about him is that he never said his pronouns back. But really think about it. He didn’t have to be there. Earthspark spends too much time with the Maltos to really develop anyone so the more characters you add the more everything struggles.

Tanatulas showed up for one episode, he’s not even in the finale. Shockwave was there though and vaguely important, but it doesn’t make sense for him to just suddenly be okay with the Maltos. Unless he took Tanatulas role. Then his sudden willingness to help them would have made so much more sense. It also wouldn’t have been a very hard change, just as a whole, because neither Tanatulas or Shockwave are that important.

Just give Nightshade a line about how they should save Shockwave because they trust him and well everyone else acts the same.

Shockwave even fills a similar general role as Tanatulas being a weird scientist who care more about their science than the war. So it really wouldn’t be a hard switch and would make Shockwave make more sense. If you want to go further too Shockwave doesn’t even have a normal vehicle mode so he really could have given similar lines about alt modes to Nightshade.

Obviously Shockwave actual introduction episode would be different or maybe he’d just get replaced entirely but I really don’t think any of those changes would be too hard. Because again, he’s just not important enough for any changes to his character to be hard.

Tanatulas in Earthspark doesn’t validate his existence much as is. I really do love him, but he’s replaceable and just clutters an already poorly handled cast. While I think it would be cool if he was just more important they clearly didn’t want that by not even giving him a finale shot. So I do think just swapping his episode with Shockwave (and whatever other alterations are needed to make that perfect) fixes the problem with having too many underdeveloped characters since it removes one character and in the process developes another.

[weirdgirlbymommylonglegs]

there’s being a teenage girl in your 20s then there’s whatever the fuck the babyface by sorry mom experience is

[xxflyingwiththestarsxx]

I want sleep. It’s almost 6 am

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 6 | drunken confessions

tags: alcohol, drunk steve, sober eddie, post-canon, vague references to period-typical homophobia

By all calculations, Steve shouldn’t be this drunk.

Eddie knows Steve only had three beers – one during Corroded Coffin’s set, and he was halfway through a second when Eddie finally caught up with him after the show, and he started on his third while they were hanging out at the bar.

(Exactly why Eddie knows this is entirely irrelevant, and it has nothing to do with how he'd had one eye on Steve throughout the entire performance trying to gauge how much he might be into it. Definitely not).

Eddie had seen Steve “Keg King” Harrington in the flesh enough times to feel pretty confident that he holds his alcohol better than this but…fuck, if Steve isn’t absolutely sloshed, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed red, and he doesn't seem to have any idea how precariously he's swaying in his bar-stool.

It's fine. Steve's a pretty quiet drunk on the whole, and Eddie gets sorta wired after shows – extra adrenaline or something – so Steve is mostly just listening to him ramble about whatever happens to cross his brain, which isn't a bad way to spend an evening, all things considered.

Midway through an entirely one-sided debate over the merits of starting guitar lessons on electric versus acoustic, Steve reaches over and pushes a curl of hair falling into his eye-line off his forehead with just the tips of his fingers.

Eddie trails off, losing track of his sentence entirely as his eyes dart back and forth between Steve’s face and the hand still hovering by his forehead. He blinks a few times, his parted lips just as forgotten as the end of his sentence.

Eddie knows there’s a kind of question in his eyes when they finally hold firm on Steve’s.

Eventually, after a few beats of silence, Steve supplies, “I like your hair.”

“Uh-huh.” Eddie lifts his chin, still looking at Steve like he doesn’t know what to make of him.

“I like you,” Steve continues, and Eddie feels himself freeze for a moment, a nervous kind of shock running down his spine because, fuck, he's big enough to admit he's fantasized about hearing those words come out of Steve's mouth more than once (way more than once), but his voice was also abnormally loud, and while it’s definitely an interesting little tidbit on Steve’s part, he really doesn’t need the rest of the goddamn Hideout knowing it too. 

“I mean,” Steve continued, “Seriously, I’m, like, super into–”

“Alright,” Eddie cuts him off as he grabs the back of Steve’s jacket, yanking him off the stool and dragging him down the hall, past the bathrooms, and out the back door into the gloomy alleyway. 

“Jesus Christ, Steve!" Eddie exclaims once the door firmly closes behind them, "You can’t just – fuck, man, you’re gonna get us killed!”

“No,” Steve argues, and Eddie’s eyebrows fly up.

“Oh, okay, never mind I guess,” he shot back, “Sure, let’s go back in there, maybe make out on the bar for a while. What could possibly go wrong?”

"Okay," Steve replies simply, reaching forward to clumsily hook fingers around Eddie's belt loops, "You wanna?"

“Uh, no,” Eddie replied, and he regretted it immediately when he saw the look on Steve’s face. He shook his head, desperately trying to course-correct, “I dunno what kind of boys you’ve been kissing, but I certainly don’t take advantage of guys when they’re too drunk to remember anything the next morning.”

"Not kissing any other boys," Steve slurs, "Just waiting for you." He blinks at him for a moment, then says, "Do you...I sorta thought you might..."

Eddie swallowed nervously, because despite his earlier comment, he doesn't actually think Steve is so drunk that he won't remember any of this tomorrow, which means he's gonna remember this: "Yeah, I like you, Steve. Jesus Christ, I like you loads."

And Steve's mouth split into the biggest, dopiest grin Eddie's ever seen, and, fuck, yeah, he wants to kiss him. He really wants to kiss him.

"Tomorrow morning too?" Steve asks hopefully.

Eddie can't help a little laugh as he nods, "Definitely tomorrow morning too. Probably time to head out, though, for now."

"Okay," Steve nods, and so Eddie untangles Steve's hand from his belt loop, clasping it firmly in his own when he's done (because he can do that, he thinks). As they head for Eddie's van, Steve adds, "Y'know, I bet if you rolled all the windows down I'd sober up on the way back."

"Sure you will, sweetheart."

[anniebass]

baby don't be mad

1.3k word actverse ficlet under the jump rating: M tags: dialogue-heavy, beginning of the relationship, the boys are arguinggg, old man eddie's being a clueless slut, and also a dweeb, and steve's being... a person that rly needs therapy lol

Rapid catchups, they name it, though it doesn’t really need a name, it’s basically just talking. Early on Eddie realizes he doesn’t know all that much about his sexy old-but-new long distance serious boyfriend, that he possesses a fuckton of outdated information, that, duh, people change, especially in the long-ass time they spent apart. That the habits and opinions of a twenty-year-old shithead don’t necessarily last until someone’s forties.

That evening, they do the rapid catchups, starting off easy, prompted by the takeout dinner they have at Steve’s: best Asian food, go, at which without a second thought Steve says Chinese, while Eddie goes with Japanese, love me some sushi, yum. Later, when they’re full of kung pao and mapo tofu, lazily digesting on the couch, half-watching an old movie where Sharon Stone saunters across the screen and smolders at bad men, Steve says: you have to sleep with a woman, any woman in the world, dead or alive, go.

Eddie groans and slides down the couch, throws his hands up: dude, I don’t know! Uh, like maybe— Cleopatra? Or maybe one of those amazonian greek warriors with one boobie?

So, no one you actually know the face of? he says, with a little smirk.

Man, I don’t— I mean, there are some beautiful women walking this earth, like stunning stunning women I can’t get enough of, but that don’t mean I want to fuck them! My willy shrinks at the thought, he explains meekly, and shrugs, clicking his tongue: I dunno, maybe Eartha Kitt? She seems very fun.

Good choice, mutters Steve, and to Eddie’s your turn he tilts his head, scratches his nose: I don’t know if that question really applies to me. But if I had to have a sex list, it would be… Linda Evangelista? Or Sharon, she’s hot. Or— yeah, Monica Belucci, Jesus. Her, definitely. If not her then Cleopatra, that’s actually a great answer, she must have been good for all that shit to go down around her, he says with a smile, and Eddie sighs dreamily, oh, I’d love to watch. From the closet, imagine myself in her place. In a little egyptian wig, he adds, to which Steve snorts, rolling his eyes.

Alright, my turn. Best casual sex you’ve ever had, go, says Eddie, and Steve hums at that, leans back on the couch, rubbing his chin, mumbling under his breath, until he sighs and says: I actually didn’t have that much of it beyond my teens, and what I had back then was very… teenaged, y’know. And in that short gap between my first and second wife I slept with just three people, two dudes and one woman, and neither of those was mind-blowing. The guys were kinda disappointing, I thought after so many years of straight sex I’d be blown away, but it was just… okay. Actually—, he adds, shaking his head: it sucked. I was drunk, they were drunk, I don’t remember much of it. Or don’t want to. I remember stinky balls. So, I dunno—, he says, and sighs, and glances at him: am I a big loser if I say the best one was when we reconnected? Could say it was still casual back then, right? When we fucked in the church, or by the pool, or—, yeah, there was a lot of it, on that trip.

It really was magical, agrees Eddie, smiling at him.

So, uh, your turn, says Steve. Best you've ever had, go.

Oh, man, mutters Eddie. I know my answer to that. Japan, in the mid-nineties. We were on tour and stayed for a few nights in Tokyo, and I got to explore the city, research shit with the help of a very discreet translator, and finally, on our last night there, I ended up in a gay bar. Very hush-hush, a basement place hidden away in some grimy back alley, he says, lowering his voice into sultry tones of gossip. Met a guy there, this… slightly chubby middle-aged businessman type, suit and tie and briefcase, wedding ring on his finger, very regular looking guy, and we drank sake through the night, sang some karaoke, and ended up in some seedy by-the-hour love hotel. He didn’t know who I was, didn’t speak a lick of English, I was obviously drunk, but I still remember that night like it was yesterday. God, just— the way that guy fucked me, the way he seemed to know every inch of my body without having seen it before, the way he just knew what I wanted without any language, it was insane. We did it a few times that one night, practically without stopping, and never saw each other again. I actually jerk off to that memory to this day.

To this, Steve lets out a small hm, purses his lips and leans back, crossing his arms, and Eddie clicks his tongue, leaning closer, touching his shoulder: aw, don’t be jealous. That was casual, but out of all people, of course you are my number one, no contest. I just— remember that one time in Japan, because it worked so well without language, and that’s always kinda hot. Language of love, all that cheesy stuff. Up to that point and following it, it'd mostly happen with some hot Brazilians.

Okay, he says.

Eddie sighs, watching his face: Steve, you know that’s what my life was like back then, this neverending barrage of hookups. And most of those weren’t even that good, like, you talk of stinky balls? I met dozens, slobbered over them anyway like they were fucking Ferrero Rocher!, he says to a small groan in return, then sighs, speaks softer: being with you is a completely different quality from that, even from my previous relationships. It���s way different. With Marcell, we both slept around, there wasn’t much that we had in common beyond, like, incredible attraction at the beginning, and the fact that we work in the same industry, could endlessly talk about that. And with Zu, we— we really loved each other, but we weren’t a good fit. It was this weird thing where she needed someone more masc, but also I needed someone more masc, he says with an amused scoff. We were two bottoms in love, and it’s hard to make it work in the long term, without fucking other people. We’re way better off as friends. And the other dudes I dated, it was just— me being a drunken asshole, most of the time. I was a very shitty boyfriend for a looong-ass time.

There’s a stretch of silence, and Steve slides down the couch, still frowning: man… I just wonder why you asked that question in the first place. Because it seems to me like you wanted to brag a little about this incredible hookup you had in fucking… Japan. Do you miss fucking other people, Eddie?

He sighs, rakes a hand through his hair: Steve, I literally just told you I don’t. I might romanticize it, the— the way I might romanticize being on drugs, but I don’t want to go back to that. I asked because I want to know everything about you! I dunno, I— I guess I like Japan. It’s such a weird place, I really want to go back there, he says and inches closer, placing a calm hand on his thigh: come with me. Like, for two weeks or something. We’d take the girls with us, go in the summer or for the spring break. Would be cool to just wander around, shop, sing karaoke, eat tons of good food. Go to Kyoto, see the geishas, tea ceremony. Go to hot springs. Japan’s truly like no place you’ve ever been to.

I didn't know you liked it that much. A trip does sound nice, says Steve, with a small smile. Emily would go crazy, she loves those cartoons. Chels would like it too, I think.

Eddie smiles and squeezes his leg: sounds like a plan. Also, just to— get it out of the way: from the moment you first kissed me, I stopped thinking of us as casual. I was, like, fully fully back in love with you in point two seconds. Even before that, to be honest. If I ever for a single moment considered that a hookup, it’d totally blow that businessman out of the water. If you want, I could show you, uh, how I blew him out of the— fucking—, he falters, then snorts: sorry, failed metaphor. But you catch my drift.

Yes, please, says Steve.

[matcha-milkies]

LOVE? ACTUALLY?

Summary: In which Mabel and Ford are both aromantic, and neither of them has the vocabulary to express it.

A sequel to “Well, You Did Ask.”

Relationships: Ford Pines & Mabel Pines, Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Bill Cipher/Ford Pines (Mentioned), Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines (Mentioned)

Tags: Humor, Family Bonding, Past Relationships, Advice

Word Count: 1,584

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: I once saw a post talking about how Mabel could be aromantic because she seems really in love with the idea of being in love and picks a lot of random people to have crushes on, and as an aro person that felt SCARILY familiar lol so here you go.

Ford is aro gay <3

“Ugh.” Mabel draped herself over the arm of the couch like a piece of laundry, stomach down, long hair flopping. “I can’t believe I’m 15 and still single! I’m never gonna get a long-term boyfriend!”

Ford, who had been preparing himself tea in the kitchen nearby, poked his head into the room, as though to ascertain whether his great niece was talking to him. They were the only two in the shack right now, aside from Waddles, so it was a 50-50 chance. 

Well, maybe 25-75. In Waddles’s favor.

“Grunkle Ford,” she lifted herself a little and drew back the curtain of her hair so that her eyes peeked through, “when did you first get serious with someone?”

Despite being addressed directly, Ford still glanced over his shoulder to make sure there wasn’t anyone behind him, perhaps some alternate-dimension Stanford Pines who was better equipped to answer such a question. “Serious?” He tugged at the collar of his sweater as obscenely equilateral imagery flashed across the backs of his eyelids. “W-Well, I suppose it depends on what you define as serious.”

“I dunno, I guess it’s serious when you both agree it’s serious?” She frowned at the ceiling helplessly before slumping back over the arm of the couch. Her voice came out muffled. “I wouldn’t know. It’s not like I’ve ever been in a serious relationship.”

Tea in hand, Ford stepped more fully into the room, looking about as comfortable as he’d been at his first college party (he’d been dragged there against his will, obviously). Come on, Ford. A few sage words from her great uncle. That’s all she’s asking for. A few times, he opened his mouth to say something and then snapped it shut. Luckily, conversations with Mabel did not require much input from the second party.

“I mean, Dipper is dating Pacifica! For a whole year now! I can’t believe he beat me! How does that even happen?”

Ford chuckled a little to himself, remembering high school, when Stan had teased him for having a girlfriend before Ford did. “Well, Mabel, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone goes at their own pace.”

“Urgh! But I want a boyfriend now! I don’t wanna waaaaaait.” She kicked her feet in agitation. “Is it so much to ask? To have someone in my life who makes me feel special?”

Ford knit his brows and seated himself at the nearby table, setting his mug down. “I understand your frustration, but, Mabel, I…” The man rested his head on his hand for a few moments, contemplating how best to put it. “I fear you’re looking at this all the wrong way.”

She peered up at him, leery. “What do you mean?”

He stirred the metal spoon in his tea, lazily winding it around the ceramic rim. “If all you’re looking for is someone to make you feel special… I worry you might end up with someone who doesn’t have your best interests at heart.”

“Oh, Grunkle Ford, I’ll be fine.”

He had started talking before she even finished her last word. “I’m serious. You have to be careful who you give yourself to. You become so desperate not to feel alone that you-you rush into things blindly, without thinking, without stopping to consider the ulterior motives your partner might have, and before you know it—”

“Hey! I don’t do any of those things,” Mabel protested, even though she very much did do all of those things in that exact order, and also even though Ford had not been talking about her.

“My- My point is,” he went on, taking a steadying breath, “you shouldn’t settle for less. One way or another, you’ll find special people to be in your life. I know it’s not quite what you’re looking for, but you’ve already got a wonderful brother.”

Mabel flopped onto her back and stretched the skin beneath her eye in distress. “But what if he marries Pacifica and I barely see him anymore? I’ll have nobody!”

“Dipper cares for you very deeply, Mabel. I doubt the two of you will ever drift apart.”

“Mmmmm,” Mabel groaned.

“But let’s say hypothetically you did,” Ford proposed. “You’d still have me and Stanley. You’d have your friends, your parents. Waddles, of course. And any number of new friends that you’re going to make in the coming years. I of all people can’t guarantee that relationships won’t fall to pieces. What I do know is that there’s always someone waiting for you on the other side, if you’re willing to let them in.”

“Aww… I guess that is kind of sweet.” She finally rearranged herself so that she was sitting normally. “Say, Grunkle Ford, you never told me about your first serious relationship.”

“I- Oh, you don’t want to hear about that.”

“Yes I do! Come ooooon, I’m so bored! Storytime! Storytime!”

“W- I- Um.”

“Wait.” Mabel narrowed her eyes. “You’re getting all weird the way Dipper does when he has something embarrassing to hide!”

“Mabel, don’t be ridiculous. It’s just not that interesting.”

“What’s not that interesting?” asked a gruff voice from the next room over. A few seconds later, its owner popped in carrying what looked to be groceries in his arm, mostly snacks, fruits and drinks.

“Grunkle Stan! We were just talking about Grunkle Ford’s love life.” She clasped her hands together and batted her lashes.

“What?” Stan raised his brows as he set down his paper bag on the table. “You told her about Bill?”

Ford got up from his chair fully with the intent to commit fratricide. 

“WHAT!” Mabel exploded. “GRUNKLE FORD?!” She glommed onto his leg and anchored him to the ground before he could give chase. Stan wisely moved over to the fridge to look for a few beers. “WHAAAAAT?!”

Ford tried to drag her along. “Mabel! Aren’t you getting a little old to be doing this?”

“No!” She looked up at him with wide, sparkling eyes. “Now tell me everything! Everything! EVERYTHING!” She shook his leg with violence.

Stan popped a couple of bottle caps and extended one of the bottles towards his brother in gesture. “Sixer, if I come over there to give you this, you gotta promise not to try to wring my neck.”

“I can make no such promise, Stanley.”

“Okaaaay then.” Stan, ever the innovator, set the drink on the table instead and slid it over to Ford, who caught it before it could slide off the edge. He eyed it for a moment and then took a few long gulps.

“Mabel,” he sighed, glancing down to find that she was still staring up at him with puppy-dog eyes. “There’s not much to tell! He manipulated me and lied to me and then we blasted him out of Stan’s brain. The end.”

“No, no, no!” Mabel cried. “Tell me when you first realized you were falling in love with him!”

“F- Falling in—” Ford cleared his throat.

The truth was, he’d been “in love” with Bill, in a sense, from that very first moment. But that all made it sound so much more… romantic than it was. It was difficult to explain exactly what he had felt. It was intense, and it was an attraction, and at one point he might’ve thought it was love, but… “I… didn’t,” he finished lamely, as if he were just now realizing it himself.

“Come on, Grunkle Ford, the cat’s out of the bag now! You can’t lie to me anymore!”

“No, I… I really didn’t,” he went on, looking down at his empty hand. “We had a connection. A deep and intimate connection to one another. But I… I don’t think it was anything like what you’re imagining, Mabel.”

“Huh?” she blinked a few times. Even Stan seemed confused as he leaned back against the fridge.

“Hang on a second. Back on the boat you told me you were romantically involved. Those were your exact words.”

“Well, we… were?” Ford himself sounded perplexed, as though he were working out a Rubik’s Cube in real time. Of course, if this were a Rubik’s Cube he would’ve figured it out a lot faster. “At least, that’s what the understanding was at the time…”

“Uh… okay, you lost me.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t really explain it.”

“I think I get it,” Mabel said thoughtfully, and the two grunkles turned to look at her. “You thought you were in love, so you got into a relationship, but you weren’t really in love. But you still loved him. Just not in a lovey-dovey way.”

“I, uh… Well, yes… I think so,” Ford affirmed.

“Yeah, I get it. I think I did that with this guy in freshman year. We really connected, you know! But I realized I wasn’t… in love…” she finished softly, as though she were now the one deep in thought. She snapped out of it with a shrug. “Womp womp.”

“Well, there you have it,” said Stan after taking a particularly long swig. “Hey, Sixer, now all you gotta do is tell Dipper and you’ll be three for three.”

“Stanley, don’t even joke about that. I’m absolutely done talking about this.”

“Awww,” said Mabel, who had really been looking forward to squealing to her twin about it. “Double womp womp.”

“Now will you please detach from my leg?”

“Nope! We’re bonding, baby! Learning each other’s backstories and stuff! Mabel-Ford bonding time!” She threw up her hands like she was on a roller coaster, although her legs stayed wrapped around his ankle. “Woohoo!”

[aquaquadrant]

I’m having thoughts again (the horror). You may have answered this before and I just can’t remember or find it buuuuuut

Is/was there ever a dragon in Hels? If there was could they spawn it in again or is she just dead?

“a dragon?” the player huffs a laugh, giving you an odd look. “you know dragons aren’t real, right? it’s just fantasy shit, like the sun and moon.” they shrug. “anyway, uh, if- if you’re not gonna buy somethin’ then stop wasting my fucking time and get the hell out.”

~*~

“ah, i see you’re a fellow intellectual.” the player nods sagely. “data analysis has found plenty of evidence supporting the existence of an ‘end dragon’, through communicator codes such as ID tags for items called ‘dragon’s breath,’ ‘dragon head’, and ‘dragon egg’, not to mention the achievement ‘free the end’, which is supposedly earned after slaying this dragon. so while we can only extrapolate so much from nonfunctional comm commands, i’d say the idea of a dragon existing in other worlds is quite substantiated.”

they pause.

“did hels ever have one? well, that’s the question, isn’t it. while the existence of glitched end chunks throughout hels has been proven on multiple occasions, no one’s ever found an end island with the obsidian pillars required to spawn and sustain a dragon. of course, it’s possible someone found it long ago and destroyed it, or perhaps no one’s found it yet, or perhaps it exists in a different form entirely. if you look at how biomes spawn in hels…”

~*~

“what, hels ain’t bad enough for you as it is?” the player wheezes, shaking their head. “kid, if there’s a dragon in hels, you’re better off if you never meet it. we got enough problems without throwin’ a damned dragon into the mix, ya hear?”

~*~

“never heard of such a thing. seems like nonsense.” the player hefts their axe onto their shoulder. “now, move along before i kill you.”

~*~

“there was a dragon in hels, yeah,” the player says nonchalantly. “this old player took me in when i was a kid, used to tell me stories. i mean, he never saw it. it was more of a ‘i know this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who heard that someone saw it’ kinda deal… well? do you wanna hear it or not?”

they smirk.

“… that’s what i thought. so yeah, it was this massive red dragon- or uh, maybe it was like orange with red flames on its scales, fucking sick, right- with huge teeth and insane fire breath and… actually, it might’ve been acid? or poison? fuck, whatever, the point is that the thing was nasty, alright, it used to swoop down on the early settlements and mow those motherfuckers down, eating players- or, wait, i think maybe it would just throw them? uh, i dunno how but- wait, where you goin’? hey, this is valuable information, you know! … fine, whatever, asshole.”

~*~

“how the hel should i know?” the player demands, folding their arms. “this world’s infinite and old as balls, and we don’t exactly have a consistent method of widespread information distribution. someone could’ve killed it yesterday and i’d have no fucking clue.”

~*~

“yeah, there was.” the player nods. “it was before my time, but i heard our admin killed it. whoever the fuck they were… makes no difference to me, but it’s a cool thought, right?”

~*~

“hm. been a long time since someone asked me that.” the player leans forward, eyes flickering in the firelight. their gaze is haunted. “are you sure you wanna know?”

they pause.

“… alright, then.”

“now, this was back in the early days of hels, long enough ago that some of the oldest players still remembered havin’ an admin. we didn’t even know ‘bout the end chunks. then one day, there was this sound. every player in the world heard it, no matter where they were. it was louder than any thunderstorm, louder than any explosion- the kinda sound that goes clean through you, splits your ears and rattles your bones.”

“it was a scream, only not like any i’d ever heard before. there was a raw, guttural quality to it- like a wounded animal- yet the power was undeniable. but there was some distortion to it as well; an underpinning of static like the whole thing was bein’ broadcast through a beat-up jukebox. just thinkin’ of it sends chills down my spine.”

“then a peculiar thing popped up in chat. someone had made an achievement, only we couldn’t tell who or what. all the text was scrambled, like those funny words you see on an enchantment table. never met anyone who could read it. but needless to say, this sparked an entire movement bent on discoverin’ what the hell had happened.”

“some of the more adventurous players went explorin’ and found the end chunks. players who knew a thing or two about data analysis started huntin’ through their comms, usin’ the data of an endstone block someone brought back. didn’t take long after that to figure it out.”

“they found there was a dragon that belonged to a separate realm from overworld and nether. the end, they surmised. y’know, where endermen came from. the dragon lived there, sustained by end crystals that were said to float atop obsidian pillars on the end island it called home- its nest, as it were. so, unsurprisingly, it was called the ender dragon.”

“and if you killed it, you opened a portal. where it’d lead was anyone’s guess, but it was a way out of hels.”

“i was young, then. young and hungry. i banded up with some other players and we consulted an expert- the founder of data analysis, actually- to extrapolate the coordinates for the main end island. only he didn’t find just one; he found ten sets of coords, spread out over hundreds of thousands of blocks, nearly a million blocks. he predicted that each obsidian pillar had spawned on a separate end chunk, and that each one would have to be tracked down to kill the dragon. we had to destroy the crystals first, you see. he thought it was a waste of time, a fool’s errand, but we didn’t listen. so we split up, takin’ one set of coords each, and set off.”

“they were all ‘bout the same distance from each other, so no one had an easier go of it. i took one northeast of spawn, seven hundred and twenty-nine thousand blocks out. the journey took years. not sure exactly how many, i stopped keepin’ count sometime after the fifth. the other players on the mission gradually stopped replyin’ to my whispers- i think some of ‘em gave up and turned back. wasn’t sure if i was the only one still goin’, ‘til i eventually saw their death messages in chat, one by one. mobs, lava, fall damage, the usual. some might’ve died on the way; traversin’ hels alone on foot is no cake walk, even without the concern of PVP. never heard from any of ‘em again.”

“but i’d gone so far that givin’ up wasn’t an option. even if no one else had made it to their pillar and destroyed the crystal, even if killin’ the dragon would be impossible, i had to see it through. so i kept goin’. it was a lonesome existence, bein’ that far from spawn; i went months without sayin’ a single word, at times, damn near lost my mind. but it weren’t all bad. i reached the unloaded chunks, saw naturally-spawned passive mobs for the first time in my life. i saw rare biomes i’d never heard of, even came across one of those glitched end ships with an elytra. journey went quicker, after that, but it was still several years before i finally reached the coords.”

“the pillar was exactly what you’d expect. a tall, round obelisk made of solid obsidian, rooted on a floatin’ chunk of an endstone island. there were some endermen millin’ about the place, far more than in any other biome i’d seen- ‘cept maybe the warped jungles- but no sign of the dragon. the crystal was at the very top of the pillar in an iron cage, so i flew on up there, thinking at least i’d do what i came to do.”

“soon as i set foot on the top of the pillar, i heard a strange sound. it was that little zippin’ sound you hear when an enderman teleports- only it was a louder, deeper, slower sound that seemed to shake the world. like i could actually hear the distortion of space and time itself. the air suddenly filled with a haze of purple particles, so thick i could hardly see, move, or breathe.”

“and then she appeared.”

“the dragon was all black, black as the void ‘neath bedrock, with spines down her back and huge, bat-like wings, deadly sharp teeth and claws. she was big enough to swallow me whole and we both knew it. but what really put me off was that she was glitched.”

“it’s the best way i can describe it. her body was flickerin’ around all crazy-like as if i’d gone cross-eyed, so she appeared in multiples at times, countless wings unfurlin’ from the distorted mass. anywhere i looked directly at her would suddenly seem… pixelated, almost, like her form was fracturin’ into pieces, like i couldn’t fully ‘preciate the whole. but i remember her eyes. they were pure white, so bright it hurt to look at ‘em, and as she moved they seemed to blink in and out of existence around her, like they couldn’t quite settle in her skull. like twinklin’ stars against the night sky, beyond the bedrock ceiling.”

“she was beautiful.”

“the dragon perched against the tower, claws grippin’ the obsidian on either side of me, curled her slender neck down ‘til we were face-to-face, and roared. it had that same quality as that sound i’d heard all those years ago, and i knew at once it’d been her death rattle. in my daze, i remember wonderin’ who could’ve possibly managed to kill such a creature? what kinda player would even want to?”

“i’d been well-prepared for the fight. full enchanted gear, potions, gapples. but starin’ up at her, i couldn’t bring myself to use any of it. i just stared at her, caught in a moment that felt like an eternity as she stared back, before i realized her breath was poison.”

“i ended up back at the world spawn. didn’t matter i’d set a respawn anchor nearby the end island- this seemed to overwrite it. lost everythin’, of course, but i didn’t care. my death message in the chat was glitched, too, in that same strange language. now, i didn’t share my experience with the rest of the world; only to those who asked, and only in the hopes of dissuadin’ them from makin’ an attempt of their own.”

“which brings us to the end.” the player finally sits back, studying you with a shrewd gaze. “now, you listen to me. that dragon ain’t somethin’ to be killed, understand?”

you nod.

“good.” the player’s expression changes. “so, i’m afraid you’re not gonna like the next part of the story. but nothin’s free in this world, least of all knowledge.”

the player moves, there’s a flash of metal, and suddenly there’s a sword in your gut. engrossed in the story, you hadn’t even noticed them equip it.

“sorry,” the player tells you with a grin, “but that dragon ain’t the only monster here. send my regards to spawn.”

as darkness consumes you, your last thought is that the white spots dancing across your vision suddenly look like dragon eyes, blinking from the void.

~*~

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hi Fen! Its Mushi, your biggest fan xoxo Can I request a cute and fun late night drive with Cecil?

MUSHI, I LOVE YOU, OF COURSE YOU CAN! <3

Cecil Dennis x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: You go on a late night drive with Cecil.

Warnings: swearing, kissing, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 589

Cecil is beyond excited, practically vibrating in the driver's seat next to you. 

He’d managed to save up enough money from his new part-time job to buy and fix up this car. (Plus Harry had gifted about $250 and he’d sold a little weed on the side.) 

Technically, other than some test drives, this was the first proper outing in the vehicle. He’d been over the moon when you’d agreed to come out with him. And even more so when you hadn’t questioned his ability to actually fix the car. You’d just been as excited as him.

It’s late, the point of the drive was nothing more than just mooching around. He’d stopped at a drive thru about half an hour ago and bought you, ‘whatever your heart desired’, and then refused to let you even put a cent towards it.

“I think I might paint her.” He grins, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the road. You could tell he was on his best behaviour, not even sparing you a glance even when you were waiting in the drive thru line.

“Her?” You laugh kindly.

“Yeah, I think she’s a her.” He rubs the steering wheel affectionately. “Don’t you?”

You pat the dashboard. “Hmm, yeah, okay I think you’re right. She’s a she.”

Cecil nods approvingly. “My little girl.” He grimaces as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

“Ew!” You burst into laughter. “Never say that again.” “I don’t.” He pulls a face, “fuck, I feel dirty now.” 

You snort. 

He leans close to the wheel and whispers. “I’m sorry.” 

“She forgives you.” You smile at him and he grins. 

“You’ll have to name her.” 

“Me?” 

He nods. 

“Why me? You did all the work, shouldn’t you have the honour?” 

“Nah, want my favourite person to name her.” 

“I’m not Harry though.” 

For the first time in the drive, he actually spares you a quick unimpressed look. “You, dummy.” 

You giggle. “What if I name her something stupid?” “Like?” 

“Like… Cecil-ina, or something?” “I think that’s a great name.” He says pretending to be serious. 

“Okay, what about Cecil’s Cunt?” 

He sniggers, trying not to dissolve into a fit of laughter. “If you want.” 

You shake your head, pretending to stare dramatically out of the window as the world rushes by. “This is too much, I don’t know if I can deal with this weight on my shoulders. “ He smiles. 

“Okay, I’ll think of a name.” 

“Good.” 

“What colour are you gonna paint her?” 

“I dunno… just thought… something else? I mean, I need to go over the paintwork anyway. This kind of silver feels very 2002, in like, I remember my Uncle having a car this colour in 2002.” He nods knowingly, but you’re not quite sure he’s even certain of what he knows. 

“You should do tiger stripes.” 

He giggles. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” “Okay.” You laugh, “You can’t just agree with everything I say!”

“Why not?” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” You smile.

“I think it’s fun.” He nods to himself.

“Yeah?” 

He nods again. “Yeah, I get to agree with the smartest and best person. I’m happy all around.” 

You tut playfully. “You keep talking like that and I’m gonna have to kiss you.” 

He pauses, then quickly spots a place to park, pulling to the side and turning off the car. He looks at you eagerly. “You are the most wonderful, kindest, brilliant-”

You press your lips hurriedly to his to shut him up, smiling as he wraps his arms around you. 

Thank you for reading!

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

THIS WEEK I ACTUALLY DID THE WRITING !!

Thank you so much to my dear friends @illumiera and @bougainvillea-and-saltwater for tagging me, this brought a huge smile on my face because I actually have something to share for a wip wednesday! Finally!! I have a memory sequence from the next chapter of WYGTYA and writing kid Ravonna got me so emotional.

~

“Can’t sleep.” Ravonna rubbed her eyes.

“How come?” He crouched down to be at face level with her.

“‘Dunno. Give me something strong.” She said with conviction, and Endryin did his best to suppress his laughter.

“You've been hearing that too much. I’m afraid it doesn’t work on eight year-olds.” He ruffled her hair until big green pupils were staring at him annoyed. 

“Well then what do kids do to fall asleep?”

“I don’t know. Can’t remember.” He grinned, teasing her.

“Old man...”

“Let’s see… do you want me to read you a story?” he asked, remembering that that’s what he heard some parents say.

“How does that help me sleep though? I’ll just be listening to you. ‘S rude not to pay attention.”

He really laughed this time, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” 

“What’s unbelievable is that you don’t have a strong, kid friendly drink to help me sleep.”

“Would miss girl sleep better after a glass of milk, perhaps?”

~

Endryn fathered so hard that he mothered. He is, tragically, very fun to write and I wish I could write him as something else other than a flashback, but it is what it is. Gotta save the dad vibes for when I write Hjaldir. I don't know who already did this or not, but I'll tag @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @hircines-hunter @dirty-bosmer @bostoniangirl21 @sheirukitriesfandom

[sleepyyghostt]

magbe if i eat more protein my eye muscles will get buff

do u guys think i could do this on my eyeballs

[vampiricalblob]

Stumbling Upon A Castle in the Woods

Fem!Vampire x Fem!Reader

Author's Note: I've never really written x reader or y/n content, so forgive me if it's not that good lol. I mostly just have been scrolling the vampire x reader tag and have not been finding a ton lesbian content, so I figured, why not write my own! I dunno, I ended up just writing what I personally would hope to find on my dash, so I hope it's at least to your liking! I tried to make our vampire character here as description-less as possible so you can imagine whoever you want in her place, but if this ends up being popular enough and depending on how y'all want it, I might make her into an oc, give her a name and an appearance. I hope you enjoy!

Also quick note: Y/n isn't being hypnotized or anything, she's just horny.

You were so, so tired. Hours of hiking through the woods, looking for a way out of your cursed little town, that never let anyone leave. You were so tired of being trapped there, unable to escape. So, one night, you packed your things and left. Or, tried to. It was noon when you entered the woods, and it’s nightfall, now, and you can’t seem to make heads or tails of any direction. The trees seem to shift and change positions when you aren’t looking.

You actually cry with relief when you find a castle, dark and imposing. Shelter. You don’t stop to question why there’s a dark castle in the middle of the woods that keeps you from leaving your cursed town, you’re just relieved to find somewhere to stay for the night.

You don’t even knock, you throw the doors open and shut them behind you, a warm entrance greeting you. You sigh in relief, before remembering that you’ve just let yourself into a house without permission.

“Hello?” You call out. The entrance is wide and tall, and the place smells of cobwebs and dust. “I erm, I’m so sorry to intrude– I just need a place to stay for the night…”

No response. You aren't too surprised, this house is giant. You start to wander around, looking for any signs of life. Candles are lit, it’s not like the place is abandoned. It’s eerie, actually, how the place seems to house people but none can be found.

Eventually though, the exhaustion of wandering the woods for several hours starts to catch up with you. Surely whoever owns this place won’t mind if you crash in one of their guest rooms? There are so many, lining the halls, and the beds seem to call to you, they look softer than any bed you’ve ever seen.

Caving to your exhaustion, you fall into the canopy bed of one of the many guest bedrooms, finding it to be even more comfortable than you’d expected. You pass out almost immediately, oblivious to the laughter that echoes through the dark.

Hours later, you wake up from a sleep that might be the best you’ve ever received in your life. Even as your eyes flutter open, sleep tugs you back down into the mattress, promising sweet dreams and comfort and rest. You sigh contentedly, pulling the thick duvet closer. Since when has your bed felt this heavenly?

It hasn’t. Memories of the night before flood back to you, and you realize that this isn’t your bed. It’s not even the bed you had collapsed into the night before, it’s bigger, and the sheets are different. You try to sit up, but are forced back down by a pair of slender, strong hands.

“Hush, go back to sleep. You looked like you were having a wonderful dream.”

Your eyes snap open, wide awake now. A beautiful woman is holding you down, laying beside you. For a moment you feel frozen, your brain is confused and you have to take a moment to just stare. She’s downright stunning, and she’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. Half of you wants to do as she says.

Wait, no. Your senses come back to you and you realize that you’re a trespasser being held down on a bed. That’s, weird. You realize that this is not normal, not good.

You struggle out of her grip, sitting up and panickedly scooting away. You get the idea that you were only able to get out of her hands because she let you, by the way she laughs.

“I-I– stay away–” you start to say, but you don’t really know what to say afterwards.

She just smiles and tilts her head at you, propped up by her forearms.

“Stay away?” She asks, voice like honey, slow and sweet. You could drown in the sound of it, you find yourself wishing for her to speak more. “Miss, you’re the one who broke into my home unannounced and used my guest rooms without my permission.” She scoots closer, so that she’s practically on top of you. “Do you know who I am, silly? Do you know what you’ve signed yourself up for? It’s been so long since I’ve had visitors, you know. I always have to go to your town to eat, but here you are, waltzing right into my home like you own the place.” As she speaks her fingers walk up your shoulder, pulling at the hem of the dress you had fallen asleep in like she wants to pull it off your shoulder. You flush red when she does so, gay panic freezing your brain in place.

What is happening.

You try to make sense of her words through your confused stupor, stuttering out incoherent syllables. She acts as though you should know her, that she’s important. As the cogs click into place you realize exactly who this is.

The town has had attack after attack as of recent, all women, claiming to have been attacked by a beautiful lady who drained them of their blood until they had passed out. A vampire has been loose for years, although she’s become more active as of recent. Looking at the woman in front of you, you see that she matches the descriptions down to a T.

You feel so stupid. How could you have wandered into the den of a monster like this?

She laughs at the face you’re making, pulling away and sitting among the pillows on the bed.

“Oh dear, you’re so easily flustered,” she says, and you just flush darker. “You’re quite adorable, darling.”

“What are you going to do to me?” You ask, voice trembling. Your brain is at war right now, the logical side says you need to run away, now. Unfortunately, the touch starved side says otherwise.

When she smiles, you can’t help but notice how sharp her canines are. She scoots closer again, and for a moment you’re afraid that she’s going to bite you right then and there. Instead, she pulls you into her arms and cards her fingers through your hair, catching you off guard.

“If I end up liking you, I’ll make you mine, permanently,” she says, lifting your chin with a single finger. “Anything you desire will be yours.”

Your brain short circuits.

“But,” she continues, face becoming serious, “If you aren’t a good girl, I can’t promise to treat you as more than just a living food storage. Disobedience will earn you nothing but a cold shoulder.”

You don’t like the sound of that very much. The way she’s holding you, the way she was smiling at you before– you want it–

You snap yourself out of your stupor. You should be wanting to escape right now. Right? That’s why you left the town, to escape it. Although, being here, is it really the same as the village? You weren’t treated the best there, and the living quality wasn’t particularly good. But here? You’re practically swimming in blankets and fluff, and a beautiful monster is giving you attention as though you’re a princess. It isn’t what you had in mind, but isn’t it escape nonetheless?

“Other than that,” the vampire says, “I mostly want to drink from you. And if you want it, I want to kiss you, and play with you, and cuddle you every single morning before we go to bed…” She trails off, before giving you a smile. “Of course, those last few are only for if you want… Can’t go making you too uncomfortable, hm?”

I want it, your brain screams, and you immediately force yourself to be logical about this. “I-I, erm, I don’t even know your name,” you squeak out instead. “How can you know you’ll like me?”

The vampire laughs, fingers running through your hair again. “I’m sure I’ll know soon enough,” she says. She then tells you her name. You tell her yours in return, hesitating at first.

“Well then, my dear,” she says, giving you a boop on the nose. “Be a good girl for me?”

You pause for a moment, studying her face, assessing what it is that you want. Thinking about your town you left, and where you might be if you hadn’t ended up here. Somewhere where you’ll struggle, surely. Much wouldn’t really change, as you turn your options over in your head. The next town over won’t be any different. You won’t find anything waiting for you there. And you feel so comfortable here, and she looks so beautiful, in her red nightgown, looking at you expectantly. She’s stunning. You wonder how she looks at you like you’re the most wonderful person in the world. You feel undeserving.

That doesn’t stop you from giving in, melting into her touch. You want this. You want to make a home here.

Before you know it, you’re leaning in and your lips are on hers, the faint taste of blood dancing along your tongue as she laughs into you and pulls you closer.

[steviewashere]

Mirrors to the Soul

Rating: General CW: Past Parental Death, Grief/Mourning, Sick Parent, Stroke, Brief Homophobic Slur (Almost Forgot to Tag) Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Soft Eddie Munson, Soft Steve Harrington, Love Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Reflections, Steve Harrington Takes Care of Eddie Munson, Dialogue Heavy

Two fics in one day? Why, yes, I am insane.

🫂—————🫂 The air was chilling tonight. Sweeping by and prickling on Eddie’s cheek. Sky was clear. Except for the stars. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen this many, not all at once, not during a time like this. His lungs burn gently, the crackling of his cigarette a lull within the buzz of nocturnal mosquitos.

There’s nothing to do. Nowhere to be. The trailer’s roof is cold against his back. And his mind is wandering. To everything he could imagine. Dustin’s recent try at a Hellfire campaign, Mike’s new guitar hobby and how he’s actually good, Lucas’s attempt at passing Eddie the ball (only for the ball to not be caught and instead hit him square in the chest), Robin’s date with Vickie, and Steve’s snores after a long Family Video shift. Life’s actually decent. It’s warm in the community he’s created. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even if it means losing his mom over and over and over again. The pain that was left. Her last goodbye. Which wasn’t really an exchange of words, but her eyes. Oh, her eyes.

Somebody is clambering up the side of the trailer. Thunking and hefting and panting slightly. And then, the top of Steve’s head is popping up. His hair askew, face slack, mouth glistening a bit with drool. “What’re you up here for?” Steve asks him sleepily.

“Thinking,” he answers softly. Opens up his non-smoking arm and gestures for Steve to come on over. Relishing in the way Steve’s head rests on his shoulder when he gets himself settled, the ability to tighten an arm over his broad shoulders, and the heat that radiates from him. “What’re you up here for?”

“Woke up,” Steve mumbles, “you weren’t there. Got worried.”

Eddie hums. “Sorry,” he whispers, “just got caught up in my thoughts. I’ll come back—“

“What’re you thinking about? Y’know, if you’re okay sharing.” Steve nuzzles his cheek into Eddie’s bony shoulder. His lips dragging over the threadbare t-shirt underneath them. The heat and plush quality of them felt.

“Not an exact thing, really,” Eddie answers honestly. “Just sorta…I dunno. Let myself be proud of Mike and Dustin. Remembered the pain of that basketball Lucas tossed at me. Got excited about the juicy details I’ll get from Robin later. Was thinking of how nice it is to hear you sound asleep after a long, grueling day.” He cups his hand over Steve’s right shoulder. Pressing it into his shirt, dragging it down to his bicep, and back up to his neck. Lays his palm flat against the exposed skin there. Frowning, though Steve can’t see him, at the temperature. “Mm, you’re warm. You feeling okay?”

Steve nods sluggishly. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “just…y’know me. Space heater.”

Gently, Eddie tucks his head down to land a quick kiss to Steve’s forehead. Feeling how Steve scrunches his eyebrows, then raises them in contentment. He reaches out his left hand blearily to the extra space on the roof, puts out his cigarette, and then wraps his now free hand on the middle of Steve’s back. Pulls him in a little closer and looks back up at the spatter of stars.

“Wayne…Wayne asked me if you’ve talked about your mom at all,” Steve says slowly. An edge of confusion to his words. “Told him no. He thought that it was weird. Is—Should you be talking about your mom or something?”

Tracing a finger down the ridges of Steve’s spine, Eddie makes a non-committal grunt. “I mean…I don’t have to,” he states quietly, “it’s just. It’s the anniversary I came home to Wayne. Her funeral.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes. “Oh. I—I’m sorry, Eds. I shouldn’t have—I didn’t—“

“Shh, sweetheart,” he coos. Runs his palms soothingly up and down Steve’s torso until he goes lax against his shoulder again. “I know you didn’t know, it’s okay. I was already thinking about her anyway.”

Steve goes extremely quiet for several minutes. Enough for the mosquitos to take that as invitation, to buzz and hum louder. For the neighborhood stray dog to start digging at the chainlink fence. The neighbors a few trailers down to start up another argument. He eventually sighs, though. Lays his palm over Eddie’s belly and strokes his thumb in counter-clockwise circles. “What were you,” he asks hesitantly, “what were you up here thinking about?”

Eddie takes a hesitant gulp. Hopes Steve doesn’t hear it. Or the shutter of his next inhale. The sudden lurch in his chest. “Oh…I thought about her eyes.”

“Her…Her eyes?”

Instinctively, Eddie squeezes them closer together. As if Steve’s his childhood teddy bear. “Yeah,” he breathes, “her eyes.” His throat clicks with his next swallow. And briefly, he wishes he didn’t have to keep explaining himself. Or the nature of his parents. But he was already thinking about her. God, he was thinking about her. “Have you ever—you probably haven’t—but you ever see somebody say goodbye without using their words?”

“Sure,” Steve says quietly, “Honestly, Billy had this look to him before he…I couldn’t care at the time. But I—That look haunts me. Defeat, I think. It was the towel being thrown in, y’know?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, it’s like defeat. It’s…I think it’s one of the worst ways somebody can look at a person. I think somebody who looks like that knows, too.

“It’s weird. She was sick on and off for years. Just had a slew of health issues. Blood pressure and strokes and things like that. So, her…Watching her go shouldn’t have been a surprise. I’d been expecting it for a long time. Like so long, in fact, that I always had this motto about her: “She’s going to go, so you need to be ready.” That’s what I used to tell myself.”

“Eddie,” Steve mumbles, “that’s—“

“Awful?” He questions softly. “I know. But when someone enters your life and you build your whole world around them and then they just—

“She didn’t care, is the thing. Didn’t care for herself. Didn’t try. Didn’t want to most days. It was always this—this thing with her. I’d help her sort out her pills, I’d be the one to put her to bed on her worst days, I was always there to hold her hair back or to wipe her skin or to just make sure she laughed. But…Some days it just felt like she didn’t put in the effort,” he explains fiercely, yet quietly. For a moment, he takes a deep, strangling breath. Letting it go just as he presses firmly on Steve’s shoulders, as he lays his cheek on Steve’s freshly cleaned hair, and recalibrates.

Steve’s hand lays itself heavily on his chest. Thumb working overtime. “Take your time,” he murmurs, “I’m listening.”

Eddie nods because he’s still finding his words. Swallowing down the bad ones. Receding the anger that overtakes him a lot of the time when she’s the subject. Hates that it’s his first reaction. Loves it because for the first few months after her, he felt nothing.

He continues, “On her last day, I wasn’t even with her. I’d been at school. And then I went to a friend’s house to play some card games and hang out. I had—I remember calling her at the school, using the payphone. Putting in the last of my lunch money so I could just ask for her permission.

“I also remember not saying bye. Or saying how much I love her. Or that I love her, matter of fact. Just rushed out the question, hung up when she said yes. Followed my friend to the bus. Didn’t go home for several hours.” He’s always wondered if he’d gone home immediately, if she would’ve held out longer. If she would’ve been the one to unlock the door and usher him inside. If she would’ve had a tv show on and her wheelchair parked in front of it, if he would’ve been on the couch eating a stupid mayo and turkey sandwich, if they would’ve laughed themselves silly.

If she would’ve kissed his head later that night. And they would say their ‘I love you’s and she would’ve not—

“I came home and she was having a stroke,” Eddie confesses quietly. The words like plucking glass from a deep wound. And that’s sort of what it is, he supposes. Her loss like a still healing scar on his heart. Steve pats his chest like he knows. Maybe he does, Eddie wonders, maybe he always knew. “Dad wanted me to help her into her chair. But I—You’ve seen me, Steve. I’m scrawny. Like I’m not…I’m not like you. I don’t have all that bulk, the muscle to lift much. Like I can lift amps, those are only twenty pounds or so if they’re bigger, but she’s a whole person. I wasn’t going to be able to. But I tried.

“I tried, is the thing. Really, I did.”

Steve kisses his shoulder. “I believe you, Eds,” he whispers, easy as that.

Eddie closes his eyes briefly. The tears don’t want to rescind this time, but he’s caught up in his own words, unable to make them stop. “I tried,” he says again. “I was standing in front of her. And her arms…She kept pointing at things, but I didn’t understand and I—I could only look at her. Couldn’t really breathe. I couldn’t get my words out correctly. So I just stared.

“And she…She looked back, Steve. My mama looked back at me.

“Those thirty seconds that we—“ He swallows heavily, choking back on the steady stream of tears making their sure way down his face. Lets himself breathe. Breathe. “—Those thirty seconds held everything. All the words we couldn’t say. I saw them manifest in her gaze. All those apologies for bad arguments we’d have. The soft okays we’d exchange when I needed to help her. Even the stupid inside joke she had about how Karen Carpenter was my childhood celebrity crush.” Despite himself, he smiles. Washes in Steve’s little snort. Because it’s true, he did have a crush on Karen Carpenter—how his mom just knew, Eddie’ll never know. “All this to say, she told me that she loved me. She gave me the same eyes she did when I’d have night terrors. When I’d cry about how scary the dark was. When I’d come home all swollen and beaten up, thinking dirty about how much of a fag I was; when she had held me and told me it was okay, as long as I was still her little Teddie Bear.

“Oh, I was,” Eddie shakily breathes out. “I was everything to her, I think. Because she was my everything. Stevie, my mama was my whole world. And I—I could only stare at her when she needed my help the most. I wonder, y’know, if she was okay with me gaping and shaking and afraid in that moment.

“I wonder if she looked at me and instead of seeing her freshly teenaged son, she saw her newborn baby boy between her arms. With big scared eyes. And tears on his face. I wonder if she…I wonder if she wanted to reach up with her limp arms and caress my cheeks and coo.” He sniffs. Swallows down his snot, disgusting as it is compared to all of this. And sighs. Says softly, “There was this one night where she had a really bad, explosive argument with my dad. I must’a been four or five? Woke up in the middle of the night to them screaming, kind of drifting, half-awake. And she. My mama opened my bedroom door and pulled back my blanket and crawled in with me. Lay right by my side, held my hands, was crying all soft and quiet.

“I asked her if she was okay. She told me she was fine. I asked her if she was mad at Daddy. She said yes. I asked her if she wanted to cuddle. And she just held me in her arms and I held her back. And when she pulled away, though her hands were still on my back, she looked at me and said: “I love you.” Because I was a curious little shit, I could only ask, “Forever and ever?” She nodded anyway. Answered, “Forever and ever until time runs out.””

Eddie splays his palm between Steve’s shoulder blades. A mirror to his mom’s right hand on his own back. Kisses him again because he’s there and tangible and alive and warm. Whispers, “I wonder if she looked at me in our final moments together and realized time was running out, y’know? If she…if she wanted to promise forever anyway. I would’a let her, is the thing. Because there’s no way that her and I aren’t infinite.”

Slowly, Steve sits up. Leans down on his left elbow, hovering over Eddie. He carefully swipes his free hand down the side of Eddie’s face. Wiping away at the tears, caressing his skin, gazing softly down at him. “Y’know what I think?”

“Hm?”

Another soft pet to the side of his face, this time Steve’s knuckles grazing his skin. “I think,” Steve whispers, “I think you two are. I think…That time doesn’t stop moving. And with the way you talk about her, it’s clear the love lives on.”

Eddie closes his eyes. Drenching in the thought. The sincere truth behind it.

He won’t tell Steve this, but there was a part of him that was ready to welcome his mama into his body. That it was for safety, protection, a sanctuary. In their final moment together, he had wanted to climb back inside his mother’s body or to open his own and fit her around his heart. That he imagined his body like a tomb—and her sanctuary, the womb. That they were one in the same. In that final moment, they were the same.

“At her funeral,” he murmurs, “we had an open casket.” He opens his eyes, searching Steve’s face for uncertainty.

“You can tell me, Eds,” Steve responds, coaxing. “I’m listening, baby.”

Eddie softly nods. Leans into the warmth of Steve’s palm still on his face. Breathes out. Breathes in. “I didn’t want to look,” he confesses quietly. “Part of me was afraid. But…I think most of me just didn’t want to accept her as gone. So I—Wayne had crouched down in front of me, we were in the closest pew inside this crazy echoing church, and he placed his hands on my knobby knees. His hands were heavy and his face was tired. He still had most of his hair, but he looked older, like he does now.

“But he told me that they were going to close the casket if I wanted to say goodbye. I just shook my head. I couldn’t bear the thought. That the last time I saw her, I couldn’t speak. And I didn’t want our last time to be this…this moment where she wouldn’t listen.

“So, when I think of her now, I think of her eyes. Of every single thing we’d ever done. How she held me. How we danced. Our music. The peals of laughter across the living room. Every argument. All the hugs in which we cried and we were sorry and how warm she was. She was always so warm.

“You wanna know something funny, sweetheart?” He asks with levity.

Steve peers softly at him. Holding him. Smiling that little gentle thing he does. “What is it?” He murmurs.

“She used to tell me that she was okay when I asked about how warm she was. Said that, “Oh, y’know. I’m a space heater, Teddie.” And I just think…I think—Sometimes I look and listen to you and I imagine her, just this essence she had. This…

“Her love. Because she loved everything, anything that she could. Held onto things. Caressed them. Kissed ‘em. And if I ever needed assurance that love is forever, I look onto you and I see her and…And I dunno. You reach me in ways only blood knows how, and I know that with you, my world is complete.” He sniffs. Breathes this giddy chuckle of a thing. Steve’s full attention is on him, a little heartbroken, but a lot sincere. “All this to say that I…I didn’t really talk about her today because—Love takes new shape when you need it again. I listened to you snore for a bit earlier before I came out here and I knew I was going to be okay.

“That we were going to be okay. Everybody’s alive. And even if my mom isn’t, her love is. She’s in everything.” He reaches up his right hand from where it fell away from Steve’s shoulders, instead cupping his face. Thumb tracing over his cheekbone, over a raised white scar from a previous fight. Fingers skating down to his neck, the exposed circle from the demobat tail and the vines. Up and around to his back again where he’s got scars like angel wings. Lifts his head and leans up, the lightest press of his lips on Steve’s. Between them, he breathes, “I love you.”

“Jesus,” Steve chokes out wetly, “I love you, too.”

Eddie hums pleased. “I just needed to say it. I never want to forget again. You make me remember. You make me selfless, Steve. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

🫂—————🫂 Oops, thought about my mom today.

[scenetocause]

got tagged by @freeuselandonorris and @lost-decade to post my most recent wip, which just so happens to be gridboy oscar:0

“What do you think about the grid girls - well, grid people?” Lando is not expecting Ted Kravitz to ambush him, Notebook mic in hand, while he was trying to re-do his shoelace under the only bit of rain cover near McLaren’s hospitality in Suzuka.

“Uh.” He blinks, water dripping in front of his eyes. “They’re uh, they’re very nice?”

Ted gives him a look like that’s not the right answer and Lando’s mouth panics before his brain has time to catch up. 

“Nice people, you know. They clearly have lots of passion for Formula 1 and they-” there’s rain running into his mouth, off his hood. Has to pause to swallow and shake his head like a dog. “They’re here, you know, because of that.”

“Oh, right.” Ted nods. “Yes, it’s good for them, isn’t it?”

There’s a note of concern in his voice that says he’s not totally sure what they just had was a coherent conversation but it’s the Notebook so. Whatever. Lando shakes himself again, water spraying, as Ted burbles away from him and he finally gets the sopping wet lace on his team trainers into something approaching a knot that might hold to the car park, at least.

Logan catches up to him with a papaya umbrella halfway there. “Dude. You’re soaked.”

Ok, yeah, Lando probably should have thought about an umbrella himself. He’s a bit out of sorts, lately - Jon used to handle all that sort of thing for him and he’s actually fine coping on his own and it’s ok for Jon to be home for a few races and Lando’s an adult, yeah? He’s leading the team, Logan doing well enough but the points gap between them clear, Lando getting asked about executive-level decisions in the group like he’s one of the real grown ups, lately. 

So he’s doing fine, alright? Just, like, a bit wet. On this particular occasion. Sometimes he’s also thirsty and can’t find his water bottle or hungry and hasn’t remembered there’s a wrap ready in the fridge but he’s basically alright. His back hurts more but he’s fine, it’s only a few races. He can do this.

“Where’s the - team car or whatever, anyway?” Now he’s under the umbrella it’s obvious quite how bad it was, water sluicing off the spokes like it’s out of a tap. 

“I dunno.” Logan sighs, heavily. “I just figured Zak’d probably have another reason to fire me if I let you drown.”

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 Just Fucking Write - Day 93 🔞

Prompt: Juyeon loses his self esteem. Hyunjin builds him back up again.

Tags: Car sex, unprotected sex (it’s me. Duh?), belly bulge

A/N: This is based on a comment Juyeon made to a fan that he feels like a 4/10 which is flat out unacceptable so I’m channeling all my feelings into Hyunjin building him back up as is right & proper.

“Why do you love me?” Juyeon asked when he got in the car with Hyunjin.

“What?” Hyunjin looked at him.

“Why do you love me?” Juyeon repeated.

“You’re smart, funny, talented, gorgeous, kind, did I mention gorgeous yet?” Hyunjin replied. “Why?”

“I dunno what it is, but I’m feeling down on myself. Like people just say I’m attractive because they’re supposed to not because they actually believe it,” Juyeon looked down at his lap.

“I’m not sure who ‘people’ are, but I’m your boyfriend and I think you’re perfect and that should count for a lot,” Hyunjin turned off the car.

“Why’d you do that?” Juyeon asked, still looking down at his lap.

“Because I want to show you how perfect you are,” Hyunjin replied, climbing over the console and into Juyeon’s lap. Juyeon’s hands found their way to Hyunjin’s hips as the pretty blonde leaned down to kiss him.

“I love you more than I could ever put into words,” Hyunjin told him.

“I’m just me,” Juyeon gave a half hearted shrug.

“And you, Lee Juyeon, are perfect. Anyone who makes you believe otherwise is a liar and an asshole,” Hyunjin rutted his hips against Juyeon’s lap as he kissed him harder. Juyeon finally reciprocated, tightening his grip on Hyunjin’s hips. “And I want to ride you until I can’t stand up.”

“What? You want to bottom?” Juyeon stared at him.

“I figured I should try it at least once. See what the entire industry was so hot to try,” Hyunjin grinned.

“But you’ve never…and I’m…” Juyeon began.

“Firstly, just because I’ve never bottomed with you doesn’t mean I’ve never bottomed. Secondly, yes you’re impressively big, but I’ve also been prepping myself to take you,” Hyunjin replied, reaching between them to unbutton Juyeon’s jeans. He was still mostly soft. “Well this won’t do.”

“But how?” Juyeon asked.

“You’ve never heard of butt plugs?” Hyunjin asked as he began stroking Juyeon over his underwear.

“Of course I have,” Juyeon huffed.

“Stop thinking about how I’ll take this impressive cock of yours and relax. Let me show you that you’re a 10, yeah?” Hyunjin told him.

“Okay,” Juyeon agreed.

“Close your eyes,” Hyunjin instructed. Juyeon did as he was told. “Now focus on what you feel, my hands, my mouth, my ass. Don’t think.”

“Okay,” he agreed again. Hyunjin shimmied out of his sweatpants and sat his bare ass on Juyeon’s thighs. Juyeon opened his mouth to say something and Hyunjin shushed him.

“I remember the first time you came over with that flimsy excuse of checking up on me. I knew what you really wanted. What you didn’t know is that I wanted you just as much. Of course, I had no idea how to approach you. How do you say I want you so fucking bad my cock is raw from jacking off to fantasies about you and not come across desperate? You know how I feel about looking desperate,” Hyunjin pressed his lips against Juyeon’s ear. He pulled Juyeon’s jeans and underwear down. Juyeon’s cock was starting to show interest.

“Now I don’t care so much. I don’t care about looking desperate or needy when I’ve got you all to myself. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t enjoyed what I’ve had to do to prep myself to take you. Though most of it is knowing that you’ll be just as helpless with me on your cock. You’ve thought about that, right? What it would be like to have me on that massive dick of yours? Nod if I’m right,” Juyeon nodded as Hyunjin flicked the buttons of his shirt open. “I thought so.”

Hyunjin finished opening Juyeon’s shirt and ran his hands up Juyeon’s chest. The other man arched up into Hyunjin’s touch. He flicked Juyeon’s nipples with his thumbs. Juyeon whined.

“Don’t get to play with these much,” Hyunjin flicked them again.

“Jinnie,” Juyeon whined.

“So good for me Juyeonnie. I think it’s time I finally sat on that fat cock,” Hyunjin kissed his cheek and removed a plug from his ass. He continued teasing one of Juyeon’s nipples as he speared himself on the biggest cock he’d ever taken in his life. “Open your eyes.”

Juyeon opened his eyes and blinked a few times. Hyunjin leaned over and turned on the overhead light.

“Look down,” he said. Juyeon looked down and behind Hyunjin’s prominent erection was a bulge in Hyunjin’s lower belly. Hyunjin took Juyeon’s hand and pressed down so he could feel it. “That’s your cock that’s about to rearrange my insides. Only you have that.”

“Only me,” Juyeon repeated, still marveling at the feeling of his cock in Hyunjin’s body. “Not as tight as I thought.”

“I hope that’s not disappointing,” Hyunjin replied.

“No, no, I just wasn’t sure,” Juyeon shook his head.

“Wasn’t sure I was ready? Darling, we’ve been together for the better part of 3 years, I think I can estimate the size of my boyfriend’s dick pretty well,” Hyunjin kissed him.

“I love you,” Juyeon kissed him back.

“I love you more, babe. Now let me show you how I ride a cock,” Hyunjin grinned. He put Juyeon’s hands around his waist and began riding him hard. Juyeon watched as Hyunjin’s belly moved with his cock inside of him. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen it happen with a partner, but there was something about it being Hyunjin with his lithe frame and the sounds he was making as he moved that got Juyeon hotter than he’d ever been before.

“I dunno how long…” Juyeon gasped.

“I know. I was counting on it,” Hyunjin nipped at his earlobe. “And once you’re done I’m gonna plug myself back up full of your come.”

“Oh god,” Juyeon choked on his own spit.

“Thought you’d like that,” Hyunjin leaned back and rested his weight on the dashboard. Juyeon got a full view of Hyunjin’s cock slapping against his abdomen as he pushed them both closer to release. The sight made Juyeon’s balls tighten the first time.

“Don’t fight it,” Hyunjin told him.

“Okay,” Juyeon panted, his hands in a vice grip around Hyunjin’s waist. It would probably bruise, but Hyunjin wouldn’t care. Hyunjin suddenly tightened around him and Juyeon released into him. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut as his cock pumped inside Hyunjin. The blonde leaned forward and kissed him hard as he began to come all over Juyeon’s stomach. When they both finished, Hyunjin placed a gentle kiss on Juyeon’s forehead and rested against his chest, damn getting come all over his shirt.

“Thank you,” Juyeon kissed his hair.

“Of course. And the next time someone makes you feel bad about yourself, let me know so I can rip their throat out,” Hyunjin replied.

“Sure,” Juyeon huffed a laugh.

[phantumpkiki]

Uhm.. hello I'm Kieran!

I dunno what to say..

I used to be bb league champion? I think? ..my memories are a bit fuzzy..

I uhh.. woke up as a Pokemon..in area zero.. ahah..

Uhm!! Picture of me!

//ooc info under cut

This blog is not gonna be canon to the actual au! I just thought this would be fun:]

Kiki info: he has some memory issues- he has a hard time remembering faces in particular,he knows that he died but he doesn’t remember the details

I may draw some asks if I feel like it :)

I’m new to this sorta thing so please be patient! :) and I’m dyslexic so I may mess up words sometimes.

This blog may have some dark themes, it’s likely it will have death and mental illness and trauma referenced.

pelipper mail is on

Magic anons are off!

other Kierans,sapient Pokemon, and ask blogs are allowed to interact!

No nsfw ask’s please! Kieran is 14 in this

Carmine,Kieran and Rotom are available for asks

Asks in red means carmine is answering:) these usually will have the tag *carmine asks* aswell

If I can’t tell who your ask is addressed to it will go to Kiki automatically.