#if a devil then I will use his magic too I don't give a fuck

[gonzodangerfeels]

She's like, come on I know you wanna see it...

you told me all of last fall

[plutoswritingplanet]

Mortal Kombat 1 Intro Dialogues

a/n: some slightly flirty dialogues for suggested characters from Mortal Kombat 1 (and 11), reader is a blood mage, adjacent to "Unpunishable"

Warnings: Suggestive Language, Obscure References, Poor Attempts at Comedy

Shang Tsung

Shang Tsung: Liu Kang is squandering your potential.

Reader: I trust his judgement completely.

Shang Tsung: You were made for so much more.

...

Reader: You want me to make a deal with the Devil.

Shang Tsung: All I ask in return, is your soul.

Reader: It's too high a price!

...

Shang Tsung: I lay before you my eternal heart...

Reader: There is no love with you, only ownership.

Shang Tsung: I dearly love all of my possessions.

...

Reader: I must believe there's good even in the darkest corners of the world

Shang Tsung: Finding it in me might turn out to be a futile fight

Reader: I don't give up easily, Shang Tsung

...

Shang Tsung: Have you ever thought to say "stop"? "If you love me, you would stop?"

Reader: Not in a thousand years.

Shang Tsung: I see now, why we're destined for each other

...

Reader: The things you've been doing in your laboratories are vile

Shang Tsung: I've used the same magic, as the one coursing through your veins

Reader: Liar!

Liu Kang

Liu Kang: Empress Sindel has approved your application to study Outworld's medicine.

Reader: I'm honored by her trust.

Liu Kang: You'll do a splendid job as Earthrealm's ambassador.

...

Reader: I fear the pull of darkness overpowering me.

Liu Kang: I will guide you, until your mind is at peace.

Reader: What if it never ends?

...

Liu Kang: In the previous timeline, you were my close friend and adversary.

Reader: And in this timeline?

Liu Kang: I'm inclined to say the same.

...

Reader: Doesn't it get lonely, being a God?

Liu Kang: I'm devoted to protecting Earthrealm and its people.

Reader: You didn't answer my question.

...

Liu Kang: Beware Shang Tsung's honeyed words.

Reader: You've said we were destined for each other in all timelines.

Liu Kang: And your union always leads to your suffering.

...

Reader: You knew I'd reject Shang Tsung's offer? Fight him every step of the way?

Liu Kang: I had faith, you would make the right choice

Reader: Honestly, do you have music playing in your head when you say garbage like that

Johnny Cage

Johnny: Let me just say, there's no other place I would rather be, than right here with you right now.

Reader: I can change that very easily.

Johnny: Why so serious, sweet cheeks?

...

Reader: No, Johnny, I won't be playing in any of your movies, ever.

Johnny: Can I ask why?

Reader: Why I don't want the job that makes your brain explode?

...

Johnny: You might wanna reconsider your rendezvous with the Sorcerer.

Reader: Which one?

Johnny: Oh, you are a bad woman.

...

Reader: Don't be such a baby, it's just a scrap.

Johnny: And I need a hot nurse to patch it up.

Reader: Why do I even… You're impossible.

...

Johnny: You have experience with emotionally fragile men, right?

Reader: You're self-aware today.

Johnny: I was talking about Kung Lao...

...

Reader: Okay, Ninja Priest was actually kinda good.

Johnny: YES! I knew you had a thing for the clergy.

Reader: That's not what I... You're such an ass!

Kung Lao

Reader: Do you think Liu Kang has destined us to become friends?

Kung Lao: Obviously, I'd never choose this for myself.

Reader: He could've made you less of twat...

...

Kung Lao: It's way too dangerous for you to travel Outworld alone.

Reader: I don't need a babysitter, Kung Lao.

Kung Lao: Prove it, then.

...

Reader: If you buy me dinner at Madame Bo's, I'll heal your arm.

Kung Lao: I see your time with Shang Tsung is rubbing off on you.

Reader: See, now I gotta hurt ya.

...

Kung Lao: How does it feel, being in the center of the Snake's attention.

Reader: Fuck you man, I didn't ask for this.

Kung Lao: Not good then.

...

Reader: Come on, I paid for dinner last time.

Kung Lao: I'll be happy to pay... Once you beat me.

Reader: You can be an ass sometimes, you know that?

...

Kung Lao: You know I only meant it as a joke, right?

Reader: Let me show you just how funny I think you are

Kung Lao: Bring it on, Nurse.

Bi-Han

Reader: You betrayed everything your clan stood for.

Bi-Han: You have no moral high-ground here, Healer.

Reader: I don't need it.

...

Bi-Han: Join the Lin Kuei, and unleash your true power.

Reader: Not while they're under your command, traitor.

Bi-Han: Your pride will be your downfall.

...

Reader: I can feel your blood run cold through your body...

Bi-Han: It will boil while I destroy you.

Reader: You'll freeze to death, then.

...

Bi-Han: Your aversion to power is your greatest flaw.

Reader: Should I follow your lead, then, and betray all I love for a promise of greatness?

Bi-Han: Is it wrong to want more?

...

Reader: Maybe I can beat some sense into you…

Bi-Han: I will crush you, little girl.

Reader: Great, a quip about my height, so original.

...

Bi-Han: We meet again, Blood Mage.

Reader: I knew you couldn't stay away, Bi-Han.

Bi-Han: Let's see if your training has progressed.

Erron Black

(am i the only one devastated he wasn't included in mk1?)

Erron: What's a pretty lookin' thing like you doin' in a place like this?

Reader: Holy shit, you even talk like a cowboy!

Erron: …Nevermind.

...

Reader: If I win, I get to wear the hat.

Erron: You'd look mighty fine in it, I'd wager.

Reader: Don't you pull your punches on me now, Black.

...

Erron: There's quite the price on your head, sweetheart.

Reader: And you'll do everything to collect it, right?

Erron: I could be persuaded against it, with the right motivation...

...

Reader: Do you flirt with all your targets?

Erron: Only pretty little ones, like you, girlie.

Reader: Well then, let's dance, Cowboy.

...

Erron: I wouldn't mind giving you a ride around town, little lady.

Reader: I'd rather beat you where you stand.

Erron: Be still, my beating heart.

...

Reader: I know who sent you.

Erron: Someone who's eager to get their hands back on you.

Reader: You can both keep them to yourself.

[r0-boat]

Mirror Mirror (part 2)

Whb!Lucifer x reader x Obeyme!Lucifer part 2

Across the Demonverse lol

A lot of yapping before sex lol

Let me know if you guys want more of this AU...

Link to part 1

Cw: biting, spit roasting, degrading

You weren't unconscious, But you weren't registering what was going on either cradled in the arms of somebody. You wake up in familiar silk sheets. The sense of lilies and vanilla suggests that You made it home too Paradise Lost.

You smile to yourself as you shifting in your bed eyes still closed. Beginning to drift off once again.

It must have been a dream, at least It felt like one. A deep voice calling your name breaks you out of those blissful thoughts.

"what's going on with them? They almost passed out. Better yet what's going on here?"

You felt cold metal press on your shirt as you felt a hand on your forehead.

"I am just as confused as you are. I have heard of God creating multiple worlds not just this one but I have never seen it for myself."

"So it is true. You are me?"

The voices began to get clearer and clearer as you began to stir more.

"I don't lie. I have no reason to. You felt it too, didn't you?"

"How could I not? Despite our physical differences, I felt like I was looking in a mirror."

The blurry figures finally turn to you as he begins to gain consciousness. They call your name at the same time as they get closer.

Feeling a gloved hand caress your cheek, you lean into it before realizing who it belongs to. Your eyes met with red ones and his familiar black hair. Instantly realizing that no, this is not a dream, You flinched.

"Lucifer!?"

"Yes child of Adam?"

You heard a voice from in front of you. Your heart sank as you looked at him.

The other one.

"no not you- why are you here?"

"I live here?" He stated calmly, raising his eyebrow

"no not-" The other Lucifer rolled his eyes He shook your hand a little getting your attention.

"That's what I would like to know I followed you through the portal you created... When and where did you learn that magic And who taught it to you?" His face got more stern with each question he asked. You were going to open your mouth to say something until you felt all that weakness hit you at once your body shakes as you struggle to catch your breath. He felt your body weakening as he leaned closer

That's when Lucifer sat up walking toward you. "In this world Hell's air is poisonous," He stated

He had no time to bring equipment He had to use magic as he pressed his hand against your chest it's not as accurate to humans as giving you a physical exam but he had no time.

"mh. It seems there's also something else, It was small before but now I can't ignore it... It seems like Hell's Poison but it's different."

Lucifer knew a little bit of what His mirror self was saying It was one of the many questions he asked.

"So the Devildom is killing them?"

"More like she's not used to it. And I can also sense They are over exerting themselves" Lucifer rambled and his mirror half speaks up his eyes staring at the artifact.

"They are using magic that isn't theirs..."

"Will they be okay?"

His face scrunched up, seeing the normally calm collected Lucifer look like this made you worry.

"usually when they're feeling like this we just give them our energy. But I'm afraid it might not be enough."

Not knowing what might happen to you, Lucifer's heart squeezes You are very important to him more than you know, and more than he's willing to admit. He failed to protect you before, He will not let you die again "I'll do it, I'll do anything"

Lucifer smiled relieved that his other self was just us protective of you as he was. "All right take your clothes off."

You coughed as you almost laughed your ass off You tried to stifle yourself as Lucifer went silent.

"excuse me?" In his tone of voice and the look on his face He looked as if someone was playing a prank on him but Lucifer as bold into the point as ever just explained.

"We have to fuck them to give them devil's energy, since you're in this world and since you do have magic you should have devil's energy-"

Lucifer just interrupted him "No shut up! I get it..." This was all too real to be some sick prank made by Satan and belphegor, Plus they would never go out of their way to harm me like this so this is real as much as he does not like this.

His eyes widen as he saw his mirror self immediately getting into bed He didn't strip his clothes yet but he tenses when his lips fall upon yours. You whimper but immediately leaned into it as if you knew this, As if you expected this.

Lucifer knows that it's still another side of him but still it feels so wrong to see another demon touching you.

Red eyes met shining ones Lucifer knows that look, it's holding back, it's hesitation. Lucifer has an inkling of why This one is holding back They are pride, As much as he doesn't like to share he knows that your safety is a top priority. And he knew just how to encourage him a little bit.

All devils cannot resist temptation, All devils cannot resist competition. So he pulls your limp body away from him pulling you into his arms His fangs graze against your shoulder his hand placed upon where he found Lucifer's pact mark on your body.

"mine." He hisses. And he watched as Lucifer's pupils began to shrink into slits. Hearing you whimper as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder finally made Lucifer act. He let out a low grow, getting into bed with you, pressing his body against your back. You felt a gloved hand possessively grip your thigh. His breath tickles your ear.

"How long have you been doing this? Getting dicked down behind my back? I thought you were just this innocent human turns out you are just a slut."

Lucifer chuckled at his mirror half's words. "You have no idea."

Lucifer clicked his tongue you felt his hand gently caressed the back of your head before grabbing and pulling you back He growls. "I think you should be punished for going behind our backs to be a whore."

You felt the hand from the demon in front of you slide beneath your pants, His hand cupping between your legs, applying pressure.

"I like the sound of that." Lucifer Licks your neck, trying to find the perfect spot to bite down while sleeping off his coat. The other Lucifer does the same with his.

"please! I need it! I want you both! Please Lucif-!" A hand smacks your thigh hard cutting off your sentence with a whimper.

"Sinners like you don't get to call beings like us by name You will use sir." He hisses before finally sinking his teeth into your neck.

'Sinner?' huh... Has a nice ring to it that term he'll be stealing that.

The two demons break away from you as Lucifer orders you to get on your hands and knees. As much as they want to take their time with you, you have no time.

So focused on the pleasure you're about to get and how your throat squeezes as you struggle to breathe. You didn't know who was behind or in front of you. All you heard was belts unbuckling and the shifting of the bed. Until you felt that unmistakable leather against your ass as someone groped it and forced it apart to get better access to his prize. You squealed, grinding your ass against whoever treated you like a toy to be played with.

While you felt someone's soft hand run into your hair and caress your cheek, he treated you gently as his thumb played with your bottom lip but encouraged you to open it. You kept your eyes closed until you heard a voice. "Look at me. Let me see those eyes when we both enter you." You had no choice but to obey. You didn't even want to know what would happen if you chose to be bratty now when two demons of Pride looked so horny and impatient. The moment you looked up ahead of his dick pressed against your lips; You didn't have time to process, only felt your walls squeeze down on a cock slamming inside of you. Lucifer had waited long enough for you to adjust. He needed your mouth to open right now.

"Open your mouth, Sweet thing."

You hesitated for 2 seconds before you felt a harshest slap on your ass. "He said open your fucking mouth!" Lucifer growled. Ending his sentence with a harsh thrust of his hips. Immediately you opened your mouth wide with your tongue out for the Lucifer in front of you, and he slowly slid his dick into your mouth

The two demons whisper praises at your ability to take both as they slowly begin to move well. The one in front, at least, was treating you more gently. As the Lucifer behind you was already fucking you so hard, you were bouncing forward and swallowing Lucifer deeper.

It was all too much, The huge cock down your throat and the other cock slamming hard and deep inside you. You felt yourself being overwhelmed with pleasure and pain your body began to shake as they practically used you like a fleshlight. One Lucifer was enough to make you cry, but two of them? Tears are streaming down your face. Your throat is tightening as you try so hard to keep your composure.

Seeing your pleasure being overrun to the point of tears, Lucifer seemed to have changed his gentler tone as he began to grab your hair and fuck your throat. But what surprised you is how the Lucifer behind your pace began to falter, drilling your poor hole recklessly. He wanted more, and he wanted you to fall apart until you're nothing. His other self was so lucky to see you cry; oh, how he adored when those pretty little tears fell down your face when you're so overwhelmed with pleasure you can't take it.

His hand wrapping between your legs to touch you.

They fucked you through your orgasm as you squeezed and milked them. Lucifer wiped your tears only to lick his fingers clean.

They weren't even close to being satisfied and you could do nothing about it but take it.

Take it as they use you how they pleased.

Take it as their claws dig into your skin marking you as theirs.

Take it as they bombard you with both praise and demands.

Take it as you feel come shoot down your throat and deep inside you.

Your limp when they finally pulled out of you, you felt arms around you. You're not sure from who. As you were already so exhausted you couldn't stay awake. Someone was holding you His gentle hand petting you to soothe your slumber as you bury your nose deep in his chest is familiar scent lulling you to sleep before being tucked into bed.

Lucifer watched You snuggle with his jacket. He couldn't help but smile, but that smile soon faltered, remembering what his mirror self had said to him.

This was your original world... Your home. He had so many questions, but Lucifer couldn't answer any of them.

As if on queue, He felt his presence behind him.

"I can't let them go. You understand that, right?"

"I understand. I'd feel the same way you do."

"if there is one of you that, there must be others... What do we do with them? What do we tell them?"

"if I tell my 'colleagues there'll be no certain, it will just lead to more trouble. We have a lot going on as is."

Lucifer's sighed pinched his nose's bridge because he was in the same boat...

"I don't think it's their fault," Lucifer spoke up

He just shook his head. No of course not, there was someone else...

"I think I think I know who might know something."

The other Lucifer didn't answer. Instead, he was slipping off the artifact while you slept peacefully.

Harnessing it's magic he conjured a portal back to his own world. Before throwing it for Lucifer to catch.

"Will you keep in touch?"

He looks back at his mirror self. He gives him a nod before stepping through. "How could I not after knowing what exists?"

[megamindsecretlair]

Do you write for Franklin saint? Maybe with him getting that stress relief??? Like I want him to be pussy whipped fr. (Feel free to ignore but your Franklin works are magical)

A/N: Ask and ye shall receive!!!!

Stress Relief

AO3 Link!

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, PIV, oral (male receiving) multiple uses of n-word, kissing. No major spoilers for Snowfall.

Summary: During a stressful period at the end of season 3, Franklin is dealing with a lot of pressure from all sides. Between Leon popping off at the mouth and Manboy getting bold, Franklin is running around stressed. You feel bad. You want to help him. Even though it's hot as hell outside, you decide to do a little heating up at home to take the tension away.

Word Count: 2,434k

A/N: Whew! This got ME hot and bothered. I hope you enjoy! I'm also on AO3 now! Old dogs can learn new tricks! Please, please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I can't get better if I don't get feedback!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @blackerthings @wide-nose-and-wonderful @halfofmysoulsblog @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @babybratzmaraj @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @kindofaintrovert @theunsweetenedtruth @theyscreamsannii @kaaliyahsierra @pinkpantheris @blackelysian @sugrcookiiee @hihellogoodbyebruh @softimgyu @neawarren @harmshake @iv0rysoap @ciaqui @amethyst09 @nworbaij @nerdieforpedro

Fuck it was hot as hell in LA. You fanned yourself as you sat in front of the fan, titties out, trying to cool off. You wore shorts, though that did nothing for the sticky sweat between your thighs. Your braids were off your neck, resting on the couch cushion. LA has had some record heat waves, but this felt like one of the worst ones. The radio called for everyone to do their part for conservation. Sheeit. It was hotter than a devil’s draws outside. 

Franklin was going to be out all day, running errands with Leon. The mess between him and Manboy was stressing your man out and you were running out of ways to help him. Though you didn’t want anything to do with handling drugs, you tried to help in other ways. Counting his money, checking in on his mom and Alton, and holding down the house while he was away.

When Franklin got like this, it was best to get out of his way. It was tough for you to do because you were a helper by nature. You didn’t like seeing people in distress when you could do something about it. Sweets usually did it, but Franklin’s only vice was a nice glass of soda. 

You sighed, adding to the hot air blowing through the room. Sweat gathered on your skin, under your boobs, giving you a light sheen that was bordering on uncomfortable. You tried to distract yourself with ways you could help Franklin relieve some of that tension. 

It’d be easier if the mu’fucka just went on and had a drink. Everybody had something. 

Keys jingling made you lean around the couch to look at the front door. Franklin slid into the house, dark blue shirt clinging to his lean frame. You watched him move, tension in the set of his shoulders and his lips pressed together. 

“Hey baby,” you said. 

Franklin did a double take, looking around for you. You made a noise so that he knew to look on the floor, in front of the couch. His eyes landed on you and he gave you a smile. “What you doin’ here?” He asked.

“I wasn’t finna go to work in this shit. Probably should have for the air conditioning, but well. It’s too hot for all that,” you said and waved your hand. Thinking about air conditioning made you pay attention to how the heat rolled over your skin.

Franklin closed the door and walked over to the couch. He passed in front of you and sat down. He leaned over a planted a kiss on your forehead. Then he sat back on the couch with a loud sigh. 

“If anyone ask, I was over Rob’s last night,” he said.

You turned around to face him. “Okay. But where were you really?” You asked. 

Franklin’s head rested on the back of the dark brown couch, looking up towards the ceiling like it had the answers he needed. He licked his lips slowly. 

“Don’t you fix your lips to lie, Franklin Saint,” you said.

Franklin chuckled and it warmed you up to see him smile, even a little. You missed that damn smile on his face. Over the past few weeks, he’d been steadily growing more tired. The smiles didn’t come as easy. 

“You know I try to keep you outta this shit,” he said. 

“Too bad. How’d things go with Leon and Manboy?” You asked. He wasn’t ready to talk about last night and that was okay. For now.

Franklin leaned forward and rubbed his hands together, a grimace on his face. He avoided looking at you so he probably wasn’t going to tell the whole truth. Must be really bad. You knew he sometimes had to do things he wasn’t proud of. Things that would make his mama cry if she really knew. 

You weren’t so cavalier about the things he did but you understood him. Growing up in the hood like you both did, it was a desolate wasteland sometimes. It felt like there was a giant hand on your neck, keeping you down no matter how hard you worked to get out from under it. Franklin was only trying to even the playing field.

“I’m so sick of trying to get niggas to act right,” Franklin said. He stood up, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles.

You grimaced. Maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned anything. “Leon so fucking busy worrying about Wanda, Manboy got the Crips on lock in Compton and Leon pushing in. Like cats and fuckin’ dogs with these niggas!” He yelled. 

You stayed quiet and let him vent. He was even more wound up than you thought. Had you ever seen him so worked up? It’d been so long since he was home long enough to have an actual conversation. Mostly, you talked in between his meetings and goings on. He’d page you and you’d find a few minutes to hurry and call before he scooted off again.

Matter of fact, it’d been quite some time since you had your legs wrapped around his waist. You felt bad, but as he spoke, you stared at his frame. At the hard lean to his shoulders when he was truly pissed. Sometimes, his walk turned you on more than his words ever could. 

You stood up, halting Franklin in his tracks. His eyes dropped down to your titties, but you took his hand. You silently led him to the couch, making him sit back down. “You’re stressed,” you said.

Franklin opened his mouth, but you placed a finger over his lips. “You’re stressed and running around with too much responsibility. Too many things on your mind, baby,” you said. 

He sighed and finally nodded, seeming to deflate completely. You moved your hand under his chin and lifted it. You planted a kiss to his lips. He groaned, leaning in to deepen the kiss. You pulled away, kissed his cheek, and leaned down to his ear. “I know how to get your mind right,” you softly sang. 

“What you got in mind?” He asked.

You smirked and sank to your knees in front of the couch. You eyed him as you went for his zipper and pulled. You moved his jeans and briefs down, until his hardening dick sprang free. You moaned at the sight of it, biting your lip as if you could already taste the salty taste of him. 

You lowered your mouth on him, taking your time to work him all the way in. He groaned as your mouth took as much of him as you could. You swirled your tongue around his shaft and then around his tip. Pre-cum leaked into your mouth and you moaned, swallowing him down.

“Fuck,” he sighed. He gathered up your braids into a tight ponytail. 

“You need some relief baby?” You asked around his dick. 

Franklin’s eyes were locked on yours. On the way that you smiled at him while sucking him back down. He nodded and pushed your head further. You slobbered on his dick, coating him with your saliva. Your wet, loud sucking battled with the fan blowing hot air across your back. 

Franklin slowly pulled you by your hair up and down and kept his eyes locked on his disappearing length inside of you. You let him go with a wet plop and then bit his thigh. He hissed and gave you a wild look. 

“I won’t break Franklin, you know that. You need some real relief? Fuck me then,” you said, giving him a challenging look. You dared him with your eyes. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said. But his eyes were growing wider, breathing in creasing. Sweat made his dark skin glisten. 

You licked him from his balls to the tip of his shaft and he gasped. “You won’t,” you said. 

Franklin grinned and shook his head. “Fuck I do to deserve you, huh?” He asked. 

He didn’t give you a chance to respond. He licked his lips slowly, grabbed your braids tighter, and then pushed you down on his dick. He groaned, yelling a bit, as he fucked your mouth how he needed. You planted your hands on his thighs to brace yourself and settled in for the ride. 

You couldn’t resist teasing his tip whenever it ran past your lips. More pre-cum leaked into your mouth and you slurped that up. Drool spilled down your chin. You ran your tongue underneath his dick, tracing the hint of vein there. Franklin pushed his hips forward.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum,” he muttered. Not a second later, he shoved your head down and exploded in your mouth. His dick pulsed with hot cum shooting down your throat. You swallowed every last drop, breathing heavily. 

Franklin threw his head back with a groan, ragged gasps escaping him. He was so damn hot after he came. When his lips parted and his eyes were closed. That throat of his. His heaving breaths making his chest rise and fall so rapidly. 

You wiped your mouth clear of lingering drool. You moved to stand up, but Franklin caught your movement. He snatched you about the waist, and shoved your shorts and panties down. He pulled you onto his lap while he shoved his own pants down, further down his long legs. 

You straddled him and he moved his fingers to tease your clit. “You wet for me?” He asked. His voice was low and husky, sending tingles down your spine. 

“Yes, baby,” you said. Sucking him off made you so unbearably wet. Perhaps it wasn’t just him that needed stress relief. Being so worried about him caused its own little bubble of frustration.

His thumb traced circles around your clit while he captured your lips with his own. He kissed you like you supplied the oxygen he needed to survive. He nipped at your bottom lip before diving in for more. His other hand gripped your hip. Fingers digging in for purchase. 

You moaned into his lips. His finger worked magic on your pussy, pulling you closer and closer to the height of pleasure. Dripping onto his thighs, he moved his finger and circled his tip with your juices.

He rubbed his dick between your wet folds, gathering enough of your slick to push in without hurting you. You hissed as he breached your entrance. He kissed your neck, then down to your chest. He licked your nipple and then suckled it. 

“Oh-Oh fuck,” you moaned. The sweet bite of pain relaxed you enough to allow him inside. He pushed in deeper, working his hips until he was sliding in and out of you with ease. Your forehead dropped against his as you rode him. 

“Fuuck,” he moaned. Your breaths co-mingled, absorbed each other by being pressed chest to chest. Your sweat made you glide against his chest, his shirt the only barrier. You stole kisses in between moans, but you were too blissed out to stay connected for long. 

Franklin’s hands moved up to rub up and down your back and you sighed. You kissed his forehead. You were a hot mess at the moment. The smell of sex heavy and thick in the air. You didn’t care. He felt so good inside you. Like home. Like the most sinful heaven. Like sweet hell. 

Franklin pulled out and you groaned. You instantly missed him. He placed you on the couch and he stood up. He grinned and pulled off his shirt. He soaked through it with sweat. He kicked off his pants, leaving him in his naked glory. 

You admired the length of his body, licking your lips at the sheer beauty of him. He pulled your hips and flipped you over. You got to your knees, placing your hands over the back of the couch for leverage. 

He grabbed your hips and shoved in with a low, rumbling moan. “Oh fuck!” You screamed. You gripped the back of the couch, nails digging in while he hit it from the back with a bruising, punishing pace. 

Your ass smacked on his thighs and he grunted with every stroke. “Oh fuck, fuck that pussy, baby,” you moaned. “Beat this pussy up!” 

Franklin groaned, seeming to go deeper or stroke harder according to your demands. “Needed this. Needed you,” he croaked. 

“Needed you tooooo,” you moaned. You dropped your sweaty forehead to your forearm, indescribable pleasure overtaking your whole body. Like you were weightless. Jointless. Like you could fall apart at any moment and his dick could stitch you back together. 

“Niggas don’t fuckin’ listen. But you do, don’t you baby?” Franklin asked.

“Yes, baby, I listen,” you cried out, nodding though you weren’t sure if he could see it. He grabbed hold of your braids again, yanking your head back. Your back bowed as he entered at a new angle, dragging the tip of him across a deep, sweet spot that made you scream.

You came, body and limbs shaking uncontrollably. Franklin continued to pound inside of you, grunting and oblivious that your world was splitting apart atom by atom. 

“Oh fuck, baby. This pussy yours, baby,” you managed to eke out in between moans. 

That lit a fire under Franklin. His fingers gripped your sides harder, his strokes got deeper, and his moans bounced off of the walls. He growled as he came, hot, pulsing jets of cum that stuffed you to the brim. 

Your legs turned to jelly and you collapsed across the back of the couch. Franklin’s quick breaths fanned across your back. Your body still shivered, aftershocks from such a rough and deeply satisfying fuck. 

Franklin’s hips stilled deep inside, keeping you plugged up with his cum. He dropped forward, pushing you into the couch. You looked back at him and he smiled sloppily at you. 

“You know just how to take care of me,” he whispered. 

You smiled, groaning as he slipped out. His cum slipped out after and he disappeared from behind you. You heard water running and then he was back, wiping you down with a cool washcloth. 

You sighed as the cool cloth hit your overheated skin. When he was done, he plopped the towel onto the coffee table and then joined you on the couch. Despite the heat, you burrowed into his embrace, throwing your legs over his. 

He rubbed your arm while you played with the tiny hairs on his thighs. He kissed your forehead. “Fuckin’ love the shit outta you,” he said.

You leaned up to look at him in his beautiful eyes. “Love the shit outta you too.”

Plenty more of Franklin to go around! The Secret Franklin Saint Files

[atrueneutral]

Feel free to just ignore this if the prompt is too horny but uh...

Mephistopheles having some fiends deliver a present to the boudoir (for Raphael or Haarlep). That present is a very confused, but also very naked, Tav who is all tied up with silk and has a collar and chain on her neck. (for her part, Tav isn't opposed to being in this... ah... position, but she'd have preferred Raphael or Haarlep be the one to have brought her here via invitation rather than... whatever this is)

I hope you don't mind a little humor! ---

Of all the strange situations Tav had found herself in (including the entire tadpole debacle), it was safe to say that this was the one of the strangest.

How it happened - well, frankly she’d been kidnapped!

It all started when she’d received a message from Helsik by way of a Scroll of Sending; the message wasn’t very descriptive outside of ‘please come to the Devil’s Fee at your earliest convenience’, and, thinking it was a job to add more (needed) coin to her pocket, Tav had gone immediately.

Into the Devil’s Fee she walked without a care in the world, only to have Helsik give her an empty smile and an emptier apology. Tav had no idea what the apology was for until two fiends burst forth from nowhere. They quickly rendered her immobile with a spell (before she could even think to defend herself), and she was subsequently blindfolded and spirited away.

By the time the blindfold had come off, Tav was naked.

Naked on a bed.

A bed in a boudoir.

A boudoir in a House of Hope.

Above her, a golden horned devil head was laughing at her predicament from where it was centered at the top of the velvet tufted headboard her back rested against. A lengthy piece of red silk hung fastened around its neck, and at each end were her bound hands. Her feet were in a similar state, ankles tied together by another piece of silk, and she was annoyed to feel a leather collar against the skin of her neck. Attached to the collar was a weighty chain that messily decorated the silk bedding.

It was an added frustration to see an unattainable, sealed note at the foot of the bed. She assumed it likely wrote out an explanation on why she’d been plucked and placed in Raphael’s gaudy boudoir.

For a split second, Tav thought to call out to Haarlep; the boudoir was mostly their domain, and maybe they would come and help her. But she wisened up and remembered that Haarlep’s definition of ‘helping’ was wildly different from that of a morally inclined person; she’d be inviting the incubus to tease her, grope her, and use her.

Which would be fine on a day where she’d been told in advance and had some semblance of knowing what-the-fuck-was-going-on.

It was probably in her best interest to call for Raphael, as embarrassing as the situation was. She expected he’d be equally perplexed by why she was in his House, naked, tied up, and in his bed.

“Uh, Raphael?” she called out meekly into the ether, thinking he could somehow magically hear her from wherever he was. “You, uh, around?”

After about a minute of getting nothing in response, Tav cleared her throat.

“RAPHAEL! You bastard! I’ll loot this place dry once I figure out how to untie myself!”

It took about fifteen seconds, but there was a burst of fire and embers - signifying the arrival of-

“What have we here!” trilled a voice that sounded vaguely like Raphael but assuredly wasn’t Raphael. “I thought I heard a guest yelling in the boudoir! And yelling without me?”

They tutted, and Tav inwardly cursed the gods.

“Not you…” she bemoaned. 

“Now why do you say it like that, little thief?” Haarlep faked a frown as they sauntered over to the end of the bed. The frown didn’t last; it flipped into a fiendish smile when they devoured the wickedly risque picture she made. “Have you gifted yourself to us? It’s good to see some results after master’s constant planning…”

“Aha! So it’s his fault I’m here!” Tav shouted like she’d deduced the perpetrator for a murder, but as Haarlep’s words further registered, the perpetrator suddenly looked like Raphael and the person murdered was her. “Wait - what do you mean ‘constant planning’?”

Haarlep continued to smile with mischief dancing brightly in their infernal eyes. They scooped up the note and slid a clawed finger under the folded flap, breaking the wax seal. Their gaze shifted from Tav to the words on the parchment.

The incubus grimaced. “And here I hoped you’d already signed yourself away to us.”

“Not today, I’m afraid,” Tav said. She awkwardly readjusted in her bindings. “What does it say? Who is it from?”

To her horror, Haarlep decided to join her on the bed with the note in hand. They crawled over, mattress dipping with each knee they took, and they situated themself over her so that their legs braced either side of her thighs - giving Tav a bird’s eye view of their barely clothed erection.

Haarlep (thankfully) shoved the note in front of her face rather than their crotch.

”I can’t read it,” she said dryly.

“Poor thing.”

To help, Haarlep read it out loud.

“Haarlep,

This mortal is a much better distraction to my son’s ambitions than you.

I suggest tempting her into a contract with your persuasive talents.

Lord Mephistopheles”

Tav swallowed. “This is a joke, right?”

Haarlep folded the letter and tossed it aside on the sheets. The back of their fingers came to caress her cheek. “Mm - no, little thief. It’s very real, as are you… here, tied up… helpless…”

“While that may be true…” Tav was beginning to feel nervous, and she resisted the urge to wriggle underneath them lest it provoke them. “Unfortunately, this situation isn’t as much of a turn on as it would be if I was here of my own volition.”

“It’s a turn on for me regardless.”

“Sure…” Tav officially hated the gods. She did not know how she was going to talk herself out of this with an incubus who was hovering over her restrained body with a hard-on, a lust-filled gaze, and an order to get her to ‘sign a contract’. She lowered her voice to a throaty whisper. “But you know what really gets me wet and wild, Haarlep?”

“Do tell…”

She raised herself up an inch by pulling on her bindings and stared at them with budding (pretend) lust.

“Not signing a contract.”

Was that jingling bells she heard entering the boudoir?

“Do you not want to stay here with me?” Haarlep purred, their hand trailed down to grip her chin while the other found and her collar’s chain. “You’d get to be master’s pet - my pet…”

They tugged up on the chain and Haarlep’s head moved in for the kill - intent on giving her an intoxicating kiss that would turn her to putty in their hands.

Shit.

“Ra-” Tav attempted to shout, but the cambion’s name was cut short by Haarlep’s smiling lips pressing against hers. The chain was given a light tug to force her closer, and their hot, forked tongue slid across the seam of her locked mouth… 

She did not know how long she could hold out; her lips were tingling in a pleasant way, her blood was racing, and the promise of pleasure was right there if only she would give in…

The lust she felt was no longer the pretend kind. 

“Haarlep, pray tell, who is your wayward plaything?”

Tav mentally and woozily cheered; it was Raphael!

“Was my warning not explicit enough? I will not tolerate you inviting in stray visitors because you’re bored,” continued her maybe savior. 

Tav could not see Raphael, as she was too busy being lip locked with a younger version of himself, and she wasn’t sure if he could see her with Haarlep’s wings and body in the way.

The chain went slack as Haarlep broke away. They relinquished their hold on her leash and discreetly swapped the chain for the nearby note. Between their bodies, the piece of parchment combusted into flames - destroying the proof of Mephistophele’s intentions.

Tav hissed as the melted seal dripped hot wax onto her chest.

Haarlep winked at her, and she responded with a glare.

Meanwhile, jingling boots arrived somewhere around the foot of the bed.

“Look who is here, Master!” The incubus said suddenly, removing themself from her body and moving over enough to reveal Tav in all her naked, restrained glory. “I wrapped her up like a little present! Just for you - specifically as she instructed…”

Heat crept up her body and flared in her loins.

Raphael, a talkative fiend who often talked too much, was rendered speechless and slack jawed. His brow furrowed and his nose scrunched while his mind worked to process what and who was in his bed.

It was a reaction that almost made up for being kidnapped.

His confusion cleared when his mouth snapped closed, and the look in his orange and yellow eyes turned insanely desirous.

“Uh, hello,” Tav said, giving him a polite wave while also trying to ignore the wetness that rapidly continued to pool between her thighs.

Her lips still tingled from Haarlep’s kiss, and the scene wasn’t too far off from a fantasy she’d had more than once. 

“What are you doing here, Little Mouse?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Haarlep unhelpfully supplied. “She’s here to have fun with us!”

She was grateful that Raphael looked somewhat skeptical. “Is this true, my dear?”

“It’s kind of a long story…” Tav replied.

Raphael glanced at her silk bindings.

“Forgive me - I don’t see you going anywhere anytime soon?”

“Ah, yes. Touché,” she conceded.

“I want to hear it from you,” Raphael said, a warning threading into his tone. “Why are you here?”

She looked to Haarlep, and they seemed all-too-curious in what answer she would give. It was anyone’s guess as to why they destroyed the note from Mephistopheles, and Tav wondered if they would feel at all indebted to her for not spilling the beans.

“Korrilla told me it was your Name Day last week. I realize I’m a little late, but I wanted to do something extra special since it was your… wait, how old are you exactly?”

“Funny.” Raphael’s thin smile did not reach his eyes. “Try again.”

“I was kidnapped?”

Why did it come out as a question?

“Haarlep, do get the mouse’s lips moving, won’t you? I think I will get comfortable and watch…”

The incubus happily motioned to return to his previous position over her.

“Alright - hold on!” Tav yelled, causing an amused Haarlep to stop. “I’ll tell you the truth - under one condition.”

Raphael barked a laugh.

“Again you show up in my House uninvited, this time naked and fettered to my bed, and you think you have the right to demand conditions?” His gaze turned stormy. “You are lucky that my fondness for you extended into forgiveness the first time.”

“You’ll forgive me for this second time as well, I think.” Tav smiled mischievously and parted her legs to give both cambion and incubus a better view of her sex. “I’ll give you the truth, Raphael; what I’m asking for is that I be returned home, safe and sound after we… reacquaint ourselves - without the talk or the signing of any contract.”

“You’ve already honored your contract, and I have not yet come knocking at your door with another.”

She shrugged with a shoulder. “I’ve learned you can never play it too safe with devils.”

Raphael turned suspicious. “What are you up to?”

“Just agree, Master,” Haarlep said. They licked their lips. “I’m tired of waiting.”

Judging by Raphael’s dark expression and the stiffness in his breeches, he was also tired of waiting.

“Very well; I will return you to your home, safe and sound - albeit sore. No contract will be signed during this visit. Now, the truth.”

The words easily left her. 

“The truth is I want you to fuck me, Raphael. I’ve wanted you undiluted and raw since meeting you, and imagine my disappointment stumbling upon Haarlep on my first visit. You should know they said some very scandalous things about your… performance.”

The (undiluted and raw) darkness that overtook Raphael’s features would have frightened her… if she weren’t so turned on by it. It was a dangerous mix of desire and fury; desire for her, fury for Haarlep.

“What did you tell the mouse, Haarlep?” he asked, head canting with a piercing stare directed at the incubus. “About my performance.”

Haarlep did not immediately respond; Tav could tell they were frantically plotting how to navigate a floor covered in eggshells.

“The mouse asked if you were good in bed...”

“And you told her?”

It was Haarlep’s turn to be nervous, and Tav savored every second.

“And I said, jokingly, of course, that you… weren’t. A-ha!”

“I see,” Raphael said flatly. “Well, since I am not ‘good in bed’ your participation privileges for this bed have been revoked.” The cambion’s unblinking, penetrative stare turned to her as he stalked over to the side of the bed.

“It was nothing but a joke, Master! At least allow me the opportunity to watch you fuck and fill the mouse?”

“No.” Raphael picked up the end of the chain and wrapped it once around his hand. “She’s mine...”

Sinfully wet after such a declaration, Tav turned her head to throw a secretive wink at a pouting Haarlep before they resentfully disappeared with a burst.

There was a snap of fingers, and Raphael came to be instantly naked and was very, very aroused. A second snap followed, causing a flash of heat to singe her skin as her silk bindings went up in a puff of smoke.

The cat gave the chain a tug. 

“Come to me, my little mouse.”

Before her mind could be overrun by sex and pleasure, Tav thought of a note to (never) send back to Mephistopheles.

Lord Mephistopheles,

No need for a kidnapping; all you have to do is ask. I’ll be more than happy to return to your son’s bed, no contracts necessary.

Sincerely,

The Better Distraction

[pluckyredhead]

Character Profile: Gregorio de la Vega and Hugh Dawkins (Extraño and Tasmanian Devil)

I was thinking that it's been too long since I've done a character profile, and then I realized that I don't think I've ever posted about DC's CANONICALLY MARRIED, HISTORICALLY SIGNIFICANT DILFS, a.k.a. Wizard Daddy and his furry husband. I'm so sorry. I've failed you all.

ANYWAY MEET GREGORIO AND HUGH:

Gregorio (on the right) is the first out superhero in comics, ever, from before the Comics Code even allowed gay characters. Hugh is DC's third gay superhero (Pied Piper came out a year before him) and the first canonically queer member of the Justice League. See? Historically significant!

CONTENT WARNING: Homophobia, racial stereotypes, attempted suicide, HIV/AIDS, and some particularly gory fridging (Hugh got better).

Gregorio de la Vega first appeared in Millennium #2. Now, they never actually use the word "gay" in the eight issue Millennium miniseries, but, well...

No, seriously, despite the fact that they never use words like "gay" or "homosexual" in the pages of the comic itself, the art and dialogue make Gregorio's sexuality very clear - and in case that wasn't enough, the editors do use the word "gay" in the letter columns.

Millennium was an event in which the Guardians and the Zamarons identified a group of diverse humans to be "the vanguard of human evolution" and gave them all superpowers. Gregorio is hanging out in a cantina in Peru when they show up to give him the news:

He's calling himself a fruit do you get it??? Honestly I love him so much. He's so extra.

I want to emphasize again how groundbreaking Gregorio is. Like, yes, obviously he is a raging stereotype and arguably a problematic one. But this was 1988. The Comics Code Authority would not be updated to permit queer characters until the following year (probably because of Gregorio, in large part). The fact that he existed at all, and not cloaked in layers upon layers of subtext, was a huge step forward. No, he's not perfect, but when you're the only canonically queer superhero in mainstream comics, that's an impossible ask.

Anyway. Gregorio's not super into the idea of being a main character at first, but after a self-loathing suicide attempt (Wally saves him), he decides fuck it, why not be a superhero, and joins the team that will become the New Guardians. He's granted his superpowers, which are generic magic ones, and takes the codename Extraño.

Unfortunately, in the spinoff series that followed Millennium, New Guardians, things get...uh...kind of rough. By which I mean that a) the original writer left, b) the new writer dialed Gregorio's gay stereotyping waaay back in favor of, um, Latino stereotyping instead (he stops calling everyone "honey" and starts calling them "amigo"), and c) the team is attacked by the Hemo-Goblin, an HIV-positive white supremacist vampire. Yes, really. It's fucking awful.

The Hemo-Goblin scratches Gregorio and bites Jet, a Black woman on the team. They both subsequently test positive for HIV. There are many letters from fans pointing out that it's nearly impossible to contract HIV that way, but the editors insisted that actually it was totally plausible, and then implied that probably Gregorio already had HIV because he was gay (even though he had tested negative earlier in the book). Then Jet dies. Again: it's fucking awful.

New Guardians was canceled soon after that and Gregorio pretty much disappeared. By the 2000s, he was viewed as basically an embarrassment, if anyone even remembered him at all: so stereotypical, so flamboyant, so offensive, so cringe. In the Love Is Love anthology, everyone's least favorite human Dan DiDio wrote a story where he claimed that Extraño died of AIDS back in the 80s, which...literally wasn't true??? The publisher of the goddamn company and even he assumed that the Cringey Stereotype must have died the Stereotypical Death.

And then in 2016, Gregorio got a makeover, courtesy of Steve Orlando and Fernando Blanco:

HELLO.

Yeah, so Gregorio is a silver fox now who hangs out with Apollo and Midnighter, does wizard shit, and lives in Lima with his husband and their adopted daughter. SO LET'S TALK ABOUT THAT HUSBAND:

Could you tell he's Australian???

Hugh Dawkins, a.k.a. Tasmanian Devil (no relation to the Looney Tunes character except that they are both owned by WB and, obviously, Tasmanian) actually first appeared in the Super Friends tie-in comics to the cartoon of the same name, in 1977, as part of a plotline where the Justice League teamed up with a bunch of international superheroes.

As you can see above, Hugh, like the other international superheroes, is a massive stereotype. He's also a were-Tasmanian devil who can grow really big, like many Australians. (Even though he's been around for 50 years, there are very few panels of Hugh in human form, but if you need to know for reasons of all the fanfic I hope you are about to write: he's blond.)

In the late 80s, Hugh and the other international superheroes from this story were incorporated into the main DCU as a team called the Global Guardians. They became occasional supporting characters to the various Justice League International books, and some of them joined various Justice League branches. Others had random cameos here and there, and in a 1992 issue of Justice League Quarterly, Hugh's random cameo involved casually mentioning that he is gay:

Again, this is a big deal. It's only 1992, meaning the only canonically queer superheroes in mainstream comics are Extraño (1988), Pied Piper (1991), and Northstar (1992). And this is a Justice League book. AND IT'S 1992. When Hugh talks about things being hateful for gays, he's likely referring to the virulent homophobia in Tasmania at the time (homosexuality wouldn't be decriminalized there for another five years).

Which means it was also a big deal that Hugh went on to join the European branch of the Justice League shortly after this, making him the first canonically queer member of any branch of the League. Of course, his sexuality was never mentioned during the year and a half he was on the team...or in any comic...until 2006. And then it was a vaguely homophobic joke involving Hal Jordan. But still!

(There is a panel that I SWEAR exists from the JLI era of Hugh describing a total bullshit version of his origin which granted him "the power of 106 Tasmanian devils!" which I cannot for the life of me find but was the first thing that made me fall in love with this character. If you stumble across it, please let me know what issue number it is?)

Hugh then had the misfortune of next appearing...sort of...in the infamously awful Cry for Justice in 2009. I say sort of because it's revealed that the villain, Prometheus, has skinned him and turned him into a rug. So we only see his skin. The late 2000s were really, really rough, guys.

However, a year later he appeared in the Starman/Congorilla special and he was totally fine? Don't ask me how. Gorillas were involved. The issue ended with the possibility of him and Starman (the Mikaal Tomas version) hooking up, but then the New 52 happened, so that never came to anything.

...BUT WHO CARES, BECAUSE NOW HE'S MARRIED TO GREGORIO AND THEY HAVE A DAUGHTER AND THEY ARE IN LOVE.

The nickname! The clutching! I'm dying.

Did I mention the canon threesome with John Constantine?

HUGH LOVES HIS RIDICULOUS HUSBAND SO MUCH. Tragically the JLQ only showed up in these two stories but all the baby queer superheroes in the DCU call Gregorio "Tio" and it makes me want to weep. HE WAS ALL ALONE IN 1988 AND NOW HE HAS A FAMILY. I AM VERKLEMPT. 😭😭😭

Unfortunately Gregorio and Hugh are pretty much relegated to occasionally appearing in Pride specials these days, but maybe if we all wish really hard, DC will let Steve Orlando or Andrew Wheeler write a miniseries about how they met and fell in love. I think Nick Robles should draw it.

ANYWAY I LOVE THESE HISTORICALLY SIGNIFICANT HUSBANDS, THE END.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

I know this is random coming from me but corrupted kisaki nsfw hcs specifically this timeskip kisaki

NSFW HC's // Timeskip Kisaki

Minors DNI under the cut, please.

WC ::: Less than 950

Also ::: Thank you, Kat, for dropping this in my box! Ilysm!

Sorta proofed. Sorry for any oopsies.

✢ Kisaki is a busy man. He makes sure of it. He once heard somewhere that idle hands are the devil's playthings. But he's come to know the truth is quite the opposite. His hands, specifically, are the devil's playthings. And you? Well, you are Kisaki's plaything.

✢ He's taken to keeping you close by his side whenever he can. In his office, in his home, and anywhere in between. He's always one step ahead, knowing just where you'll be, what you'll be doing, and how to take advantage of the situation.

✢ He loves to watch you work. Your hands are delicate, graceful, and efficient. It's a shame that he feels the need to tie them up every night and he has to remind you just who you belong to.

✢ Kisaki keeps you on a tight leash, making sure to keep you under his watchful eye. He's trained you to be so obedient, and it pleases him to no end.

✢ You don't fight him anymore. You've learned your lesson. When he tells you to bend over his desk and stay still, you do. When he ties you up and spreads you open for his viewing pleasure, you stay put. You know your place. You know exactly what he wants from you, and you're more than happy to give it to him.

✢ Kisaki loves to use toys on you. He's got a whole collection, and he loves to see your reactions to each and every one of them. He's always looking for new things to try out, and he's very generous with letting you try them out first. To see which one(s) you like the most, or which ones just don't hit any nerve whatsoever.

✢ Kisaki loves to play with your mouth. He loves to watch you suck him off, to feel your tongue work its magic on his cock. And when you're on your knees in front of him, he loves to pull your hair and shove his cock down your throat. It makes him feel powerful and in control.

✢ Kisaki loves to make you cum. If he's feeling generous, he'll let you cum first. But more often than not, he gets to blow his load before you're even close. He loves to see you frustrated and desperate for release. It just turns him on even more.

✢ Kisaki loves to fuck you hard. He loves to bend you over and pound into you from behind. He leans over you and reaches up under to grab your tits. Massaging the soft, squishy flesh - for his pleasure. It's just an added bonus if you happen to enjoy it too.

✢ Kisaki loves to play with your pussy. He loves to explore every inch of your folds, every crevice and curve. He loves to taste you, to smell you, to feel your slick juices on his fingers. It embarrasses the fuck out of you when he stuffs his face in your cunt and takes a deep breath in through his nose and moans right back into it. You've learned to not speak up about it though. He doesn't like you talking bad about yourself. “Cunts smell, darling. And I love how yours smells. Don’t let me hear you say this again.”

✢ Kisaki loves to take his time with you. He loves to take you slow, to tease you until you're begging for more. He loves to make you wait, to leave you wanting more. And when he finally lets you cum, it's like heaven and hell all at the same time. It's intense and overwhelming, and you love every second of it.

✢ Kisaki loves to cum on you. He loves to mark you as his, to claim you as his own. He loves to see his cum drip down your face, or splatter onto your tits, or just down your throat. He loves to see his cum all over your body, to see his essence seep into your skin and to know that you belong to him.

✢ Kisaki loves to fuck you in his car. Mind you, there's no divider that can be put up. And he doesn't ask the driver to get out 1/2 of the time. So you're basically riding him through town on the way to his next meeting. It's incredibly risky, and the thrill of getting caught is just too much to resist. Although, he did slap you across the face that one time - the first time ever - you squirted all over his suit. He apologized immediately and profusely. But now you’re afraid to completely let yourself go when you’re in the car with him. 

✢ Kisaki loves to fuck you in his office. He loves the idea of someone walking in on the two of you. And if someone were to walk in on the two of you, he'd just keep fucking you, and make sure you scream his name so they know who you belong to.

✢ Kisaki loves to fuck you in the bathtub. He loves the idea of having you so vulnerable, so exposed. Knowing that you're completely at his mercy. He loves to see you naked and wet, and to feel your soft skin against his own. He likes how wet you feel between your thighs - the mix of the bath water and your pussy juices makes him almost lose his mind. 

✢ Kisaki loves you in the only way Kisaki knows how to. He’s told you many, many times that you can take it or leave it. But “Good luck finding someone who will put up with your whining.”

And you’re like, “What whining????”

Taglist ::: @katkitkats @kazutora-kurokawa @viburnt @darkstarlight82 @arlerts-angel

[cainhart]

The symbolism of the snake embroidery on Vergil's clothes and my theories on how he might have acquired his outfit. (he's broke asf he didn't get it with money guys)

In the first Devil May Cry novel we learn that teenager Dante had his red jacket custom made. He is actually pissy about it when it gets ruined with bullet holes. He then wears a fuckass black jacket, which makes him look embarrassing.

Dante was drinking and using firearms when he was 15 or 16 years old; but he had a job (albeit his job being a MERCENARY. Also twins being European really shows because he was having drinking contests as a fucking 15 year old, god), so he had enough money to buy himself a custom made jacket. But the thing is, we don’t know how teenager Vergil got his outfit. It’s too well made to be bought in a normal store. Vergil probably had no money—though it is hinted that after Mundus' attack, young Vergil may have used public transportation (I also have a headcanon that he didn't know how to open a portal until he was at least 12 so that makes sense) and even bought himself food. These may have happened before or after the attack but let's say after the attack since Sparda, Eva, and the twins were living a secluded life. Still, being homeless and constantly on the run, his concept of the value of money is more like ‘money’ and ‘a LOT of money.’ He had no use for finance; what important was to get powerful and gain knowledge.

So, he probably didn’t get it with money. Vergil was never in one place long enough to earn money. I also don't see him as someone who would kill or hurt people to steal their money (he actually kinda did it in VoV,,, but that was different), so the idea of custom made clothing bought with human currency doesn't sit with me.

He might have used demonic magic to create his outfit. We see a demonstration of this in DMC5 with Trish, who uses her magic to literally recreate her entire outfit. This is very weird and left unexplained, which frustrates me because I need to rationalize things. Perhaps demons can do this because they can infuse anything with their demonic energy, and since the clothes they wear are made of organic material, they can recreate or even sew them back together. In Vergil's case, it's more like 'create a whole new outfit in mind's eye and boom now you have a ridiculous cravat.'

Another possibility is that he had it custom-made, but not with human currency. Demons, or at least a certain demonic/supernatural entity (the God of Time, aka the Divinity Statue), accept red orbs as a form of payment.

Vergil probably visited many places on his trauma blind journey of gaining power. I might overdo here, but what if he came across a strange tailor and they made a deal like, "You give me 70 thousand red orbs, and I give you a slutty vest, a ridiculous cravat, nice shoes and a cool coat with snake embroidery on it." and Vergil was like "Aight." Maybe he was intending to infuse his outfit with his magic anyway. It was a win-win situation.

It's funny to imagine Vergil designing his outfit, just being a teenager for once.

So, Vergil could have saved up red orbs to get a cool coat. Demonic establishments are kind of canon, so that’s a possibility. He was a teenager it’s only natural that he liked teenager things, even in his traumatized and hunted state. At a certain point in his life, he became strong enough to indulge in some of his likes.

Speaking of snake embroidery, Vergil has SO MUCH snake symbolism on him, and on his clothes too! Snakes were adored and respected throughout history before paganism started to get shitted on. Snakes represent wisdom, REBIRTH, healing, transformation, and knowledge. That’s why Satan, disguised as a snake, gave Eve the apple (knowledge) (also, knowledge of the occult was really given to women first). The snake detail on his clothes might even be magic, too. It's nearly an occult symbol on its own. Maybe a sigil? I know sigils aren't a thing in DMC but I don't care I'll go apeshit with my theories.

Whether the serpent detail was intentional or unintentional, it’s still a great detail considering his story and character. He goes through transformation (Nero Angelo), then rebirth (Vergil rebirth party in DMC5), and healing (basically the whole plot of Visions of V).

So, just teenager Vergil researching the occult and being fascinated with the symbolism of the serpent. OR he straight up stole it. :l This bitch split his demonic and human self apart and like 1 day after his human self came to existence he had to deal with money and his first thought was to steal it. Anyway, that's all. Have a good day!

[daytaker]

greetings from clown anon, adored the fic very silly <33

i apologise if i’m filling up your inbox but may i ask for an mc that’s a mortician? that or is just desensitised to death and knows a lot about it, like i imagine whenever the brothers in early season 1 used to do like very specific threats mc would be like “uh actually that’s not how that works” essentially acting like a bit of a smart ass completely glossing over the actual threat

thanksies in advance (´∀｀*)

Clown Anon MCs - [ Clowncore MC | Death-Fixated Science Geek MC | LeVeyan Satanist MC ]

(I'll be real I have no memory of the specific threats and I was too lazy to go look for them but I will follow along the lines of the prompt anyway.)

I'm going to do this one in bullet point form. Hope that's okay.

(CW: a bit gross at times. not quite gore.)

Now I Am Become MC, Destroyer of Worlds: A Death-Fixated Main Character in Obey Me!

Read below the cut.

They're extremely curious about demon anatomy. And not in a kinky way. They want to see how similar the structure and layout of demon organs are to human organs. They want to get full body X-rays when those wings and tails pop up. They want to get it on video when they appear and disappear. Because what the fuck. Yeah, yeah, they get it, magic exists, but still, what the fuck?!

They fully expect Beel to keel over and die one day from overeating. There is no way any single individual can consume the way he does and survive. They're actually hoping that if he does, they'll be able to carry out the post-mortem and see what exactly was going on with that stomach of his. I mean, yes, they'll be very sad he's gone, but at least he'll have died as a martyr to science!

Dead shadow hog? Taxidermied. Dead fire newt? Taxidermied. Dead devil zebra? Brought home, dissected, taxidermied. The brothers don't really like to go to their room because of the constant dizzying stench of formaldehyde that comes from it.

Sometimes they'll just sit and stare at one of the brothers. If asked what they're doing, they'll simply say, "Observing." Reactions to this range from Beel's "Oh, okay," to Levi's "I'M GOING TO MY ROOM AND NEVER LEAVING FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE."

So Solomon's immortal, is he? How immortal, exactly? Is it just that he'll never die from old age? Could he die of a disease? Surely he could die from injuries, right? Has he tested this? Can they test it? Please?

....Please?

Wait, wait, wait. Satan came from where? How? Why? What the hell? Lucifer, take your shirt off, they need to do some investigating. Satan, you too. Lucifer, show them your back. No scars? Not even from ripping your own wings off? Hm. Satan, do you have a bellybutton? ...That's weird, you definitely didn't need an umbilical cord. And you're saying he came out full-sized? Stop telling them it's magic! Magic is just science that people don't understand yet.

Actually, all of you get in here and strip, this has been a long time coming. MC needs to figure out what the hell is happening here.

Why not?

Pleeeease?

Satan, let's talk about one of your murder mysteries! They do this exactly one time, and never again because MC kept interrupting to point out plot holes and inconsistencies. It was so annoying. It kind of ruined the genre for him for a little while.

Leviathan, MC wants to ask you about how you survive underwater. Levi--- Hey, where are you going? Levi?

They write their paper on comparative anatomy of demons, angels, and humans. Diavolo gets a little queasy after the first page and gives them an A. He doesn't want to read the rest, he trusts they did a thorough job.

[happypotato48]

Wandee Goodday EP 7 Unhinged Tangant Thoughts

Welp, i'm back to simping for Ai Phi Ter. god damn it, my hated for him only last a week i thought it would last longer than that. whatever i have no standards for men and and that hindenburg of a person is too much of a hot disaster for me to look away from.

this is a nice message and all but shouldn't there more set up for this?

well i appreciated that they tried to destigmatize mental health nonetheless. cause this topic is very much overlooked in thailand. like most older generations will outright tells young people to go to temples or get a grip instead of seeking professional helps.

Yak it's only been a few months give Dee more time my dude.

Dude i know you're mad and all but why you did that. go apologize to the poor custodian staff right now!

Eyebrows is right Dee stop making a mess and go smooch that hunk of a man!

Oh hi luke. i've never watch any of the shows he's in, but but but i had watched a behind the screen of a underwear photoshoot he modeled for and it was very very yummy :P

Make out make out make out. WHAT! don't look at me like that i said already i have no standards.

We are what we remember and liking Ai Phi Ter will always be a part of Dee, you just need learn to live with that baby boy.

How about you two dress up as a well adjusted people whose talks to each other for one, hmmm!

i'm still not going to the gym i don't care how many eye candies there is there i still hate exercises that are not walking/running. but also thanks for this shot show.

*Me when i saw this*

What with that face lol. i laughed so hard 🤣

Did you just came here in that outfit? this bitch has no shame.

If this were me he would already got me at free food. what can i say i'm easy like that.

Heaheahea that smile got me. he so slimy and evil. anyway what happened with what her face Ai Phi Ter!

*second murloc noise of the day*

And i both love and hate you for it you big doo doo of a man.

Ok this line literal translation is "why do you like to use violence like that" which i think is a better choice than what got subbed.

Thanks you gay gods and Yak for both giving me this look and for decking Ai Phi Ter in his stupid face.

You dumb bitches you dum-dums ahhhhhh.

Ok sorry, but crying over cringy bunny sextume will never stop be funny for me lol

saving budget bying never leave the room, smart moved but also give me japan god damn it!

God bless this mess of a man.

Oh comeon! don't drag this girl into this mess show just leave her alone with that other cute boy.

*third murloc noise of the day*

Ok you betted on this match for money didn't you.

Fucking finally!

It's not dull alright baby.

That was a hot mess oh my god, Yak feels off in this ep and yes i do think they're trying to go with mental health problems as an explanation but that was too underbaked for me idk. and for Dee i do get it that he still has lingering feeling for dr. devil but why did they made him goes to Ter's room in that outfit and not trying way harder to get out. i feel like they just went with the early draft of that scene with out changing with how much they've changed the characters. anyways i'm manifesting cherry magic th ep 8 energy for this ep and hope it was just a blip in judgement by the director.

[jo-harrington]

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 3)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 12.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Angst, body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love, mutual pining, fatphobia (if you squint?), Babysitter Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Things That Require Communication (Too Bad There Isn't Any), Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, Masturbation, Fantasies/Wet Dreams, To Quote JQ "There Do Be Willies"

Note: Guys...ok I tried I really did. First off once again thanks to @ghost-proofbaby, @big-ope-vibes and @trashmouth-richie for being my sounding boards for some things in this chapter. And then because they have been SO amazing with their writing and their big-brainedness, this chapter is dedicated to @myosotisa and @blue-mossbird.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Before Eddie could react at all to Steve's appearance, Steve had launched himself off the bed, crossed the room, and pinned Eddie against the wall with an arm across his neck. The pressure was uncomfortable, but not enough to keep him from breathing or talking.

"How did you get in here?" Eddie questioned.

"It's my fucking house, Freak," Steve spat. "I know where the spare key is. Now, what the fuck did you do to me? To us. How the fuck did you do this?"

"Listen pal," Eddie grunted, trying to shove Steve off of him. Eddie wondered, fleetingly as he stared into his own rage-filled eyes, if he was actually that strong, or if it was just because Steve had better control of his strength. "I don't know what you think I could have done, but I was just as surprised as I'm sure you were when I woke up here this morning. In your fucking body."

"That's bullshit. You did this," Steve insisted. "You...did some satanic ritual—"

"Are you stupid? It's all a joke man," Eddie began. "I don't worship Satan, Hellfire's not a cult."

"Fuck you, you and your devil horns and latin chants during lunc—"

"I just played that shit up so my friends don't get beaten up by meathead jocks like you."

Fed up with being pushed around and accused Eddie went slack against the wall for a second, causing Steve's footing to falter, and with that he threw his whole weight against Steve, causing him to tumble back onto the floor. Eddie knelt over him, gritting his teeth, and fisted the front of his shirt.

"You think if I had some kind of say in my life, some kind of power to change it, I would still be stuck in a shithole like Hawkins?" Eddie sneered. "Stuck in that trailer, stuck being a student at Hawkins high for another day?"

"Except you're not stuck anymore," Steve retorted. "I am."

"Y-you think I would want to be stuck like this instead?" Eddie huffed. "King fucking Steve Harrington. Who has it all handed to him. What kind of life is that?"

"You didn't seem too miserable a few seconds ago," Steve pointed out.

Eddie let go of Steve and he dropped slightly, head bouncing slightly off the plush area rug.

Fucking Harrington can't even have hard enough floors to hurt.

Eddie stood to his full height and looked around the bedroom again—at Steve's desk and his lovingly filled-out calendar, at the plush bed, at the window that overlooked a swimming pool for fuck's sake—and wondered how fair it was that Steve could have anything he ever wanted, but never did.

What would you like me to say to that Steve? That you're right? That I would want your life? That you're an idiot and you don't deserve any of this? That I do instead?

"Where were you just now anyway?" Steve continued as he watched Eddie cross over to the window. "Take my car for a joyride or something? While I'm driving around your rusty old shitbox? Or...or—"

"Took your girl out for a date," Eddie interrupted and glanced back at Steve over his shoulder. "Or did you forget about her?"

"My gir—" Steve paused. "Do you mean...You took her out on our date?"

"I went through the motions today," Eddie explained. "Wake up in someone else's body, go to work at their job, take their girlfriend on the date they had planned."

"For someone who seems to have no idea how this happened," Steve grunted as he pushed himself off the floor. "You seem to know how to handle a situation like this pretty perfectly."

"How do you think I should have handled it? Driving around town screaming about spells and magic?"

Steve had the sense to look ashamed for a minute and Eddie smirked.

"What did you do today then, eh 'Eddie?'"

"I...I went to school," Steve started.

"Sounds like going through the motions to me."

"I went to find Henderson!"

"Wait a minute," Eddie turned to face Steve fully. "You told Henderson?"

"Yeah," Steve shrugged. "What was I supposed to do? He's part of your little band of misfits. Figured he might know some...counter spell and get me back in my body."

Eddie groaned and put his face in his hands.

Great, Dustin was going to actually think Eddie was the devil now.

"Did you tell anyone?" Steve asked dumbly.

"No because I'm not an absolute idiot," Eddie exclaimed, throwing his hands out. "Fuck, no wonder Buckley calls you a dingus."

"Well lah-di-dah, I'm sorry I don't have the mystical body switching handbook memorized like you do" Steve snarked and fell onto the bed, grabbing a pillow to hug to his body for comfort. "What would that even look like? A...a...pentagram with 'shut the fuck up' written in the middle in latin or something?"

Eddie froze.

A mystical body switching handbook.

A pentagram.

Or maybe a sigil?

"God, I can't even believe you went on my date for me. Did you even...how did you know I had reservations at the Club? Wait, is that what you wore? Jesus Ch—”

"Shut up!" Eddie interrupted. "Go back, what did you just say?"

"Uh....The Club?" Steve asked. "The...Country Club up in Marion? My dad plays golf there."

"No before that, you said—" Eddie stopped. "Wait, you were gonna take her for dinner at the Golf Club? Kind of a douche move there, Harrington. Even for you."

"Well where did you take her then?"

"Doesn't matter," Eddie dismissed, smugly filing away the fact that his idea for a date was better than Steve's. Country Club. "You said...a pentagram."

"Yeah? What about it?" Steve asked. When Eddie hesitated to answer, Steve grew concerned. "Please don't tell me you drew a pentagram and asked for...I don't know, better hair or something and now we're stuck like this."

Eddie ignored the dig at his hair.

"Not...exactly."

"Oh!" Mrs. Henderson looked surprised when she opened the door to find both "Steve" and "Eddie" on her doorstep. "What a surprise!"

"Hey, Mrs. H," "Steve" greeted with a smile, causing "Eddie" to roll his eyes. "Is Dustin here?"

"He is. With Will and Lucas. Since someone decided to cancel Hellfire Club," she glared at "Eddie" good-naturedly. "I can go get him for you; come on in. Did you boys have dinner? You hungry? I have plenty of leftover tater tot casserole."

"No thank you," they answered in tandem and crossed through into the living room and took a seat on the couch.

As she made her way back towards Dustin's room, the boys started to bicker.

"Why would you cancel Hellfire? I never cancel. Even when I'm sick."

"I’m sorry was this not a pressing matter? Your little club can’t skip one week?”

Mews jumped up and settled in "Eddie's" lap and Steve froze as she began purring.

Mews was never really a fan of Steve's to begin with, the few times Steve had come over to spend time with Dustin and the kids. It was mutual indifference, actually. She mostly stayed cuddled up in Mrs. Henderson's arms, but when she wasn't they gave one another distance. Steve had no interest in getting near the cat, and the cat had no interest in getting near Steve.

So for her to be comfortable and purring in "Eddie's" lap...it made Steve a little nervous. What if she bit him or clawed him or—

"Well, aren't you gonna give her pets Harrington?" Eddie reached over and started scratching between her ears.

"Uh...I'm not an animal person," Steve explained and Eddie gave him a dull look. "What if it scratches me?"

"Are you kidding?" Eddie scoffed. "First, she's literally the cuddliest cat in the world. Second, she's a she, not an it. And third, if she scratches you, technically she'd scratch me and I've already been scratched several times when I fed the baby raccoons at Forest Hills."

"The—Why are you feeding raccoons?" Steve exclaimed. "They're wild animals, they're feral."

"They're babies, they shouldn't be eating trash. Which reminds me, as long as we're stuck like this, you need to leave a can or two of tuna out for the stray cats once in a while."

Steve watched Eddie for a moment, waiting for the laughter to start or a punchline to come out of his mouth. And it never did.

"What is wrong with yo—"

"Eddie! Steve!" the boys jumped at Dustin and his mother's appearance. Dustin had wide eyes and a strained smile. "What a surprise! Eddie, how was detention?"

Eddie turned back to look at Steve with raised eyebrows and a manic grin.

"Detention?" Eddie asked. "When did this happen?"

"I was late to class. You know, like I am every day." Steve answered, taking a cheap dig at Eddie for putting him on the spot.

"Anyway!" Dustin began loudly. "Why don't you guys come on back. And we can discuss that surprise campaign for Mike's birthday."

Eddie picked Mews off Steve's lap and handed her back to Mrs. Henderson with another last little chin scratch, and then he and Steve followed Dustin back to his room where, indeed, Lucas and Will were waiting.

"Alright dweebs, get lost," Steve announced.

"No way, we're not leaving until we figure this whole body switching thing out," Lucas scoffed.

"You told them too?" Eddie turned to Steve and Steve held his hands up defensively.

"No," Dustin interjected. "I did. I needed Will the Wise's brain and Sinclair the Soldier's tenacity if I was gonna solve this."

"What about Wheeler?" Eddie asked.

The boys sheepishly looked at one another.

"Mike's not exactly the best at keeping secrets," Will began hesitantly. "And if Nancy found out...well..."

"And we do actually need to come up with some kind of surprise for his birthday," Lucas continued. "A quest to reverse a curse on two knights sounds pretty epic."

They all looked to Eddie for his input.

"Could be interesting," Eddie hummed and tilted his head back and forth in contemplation. "I might be inclined to give it a DM stamp of approval if we can actually figure this thing out."

The kids all cheered and started talking over one another, saying that they went to the Hawkins Public Library after school since Hellfire was canceled. They gathered several fantasy books and a folklore book, and when they asked about occultism at the reference desk, there was one book that had recently been checked out.

"Funny you should mention that," Steve piped up and pulled the faded red book out from where it was tucked into Eddie's jacket. "Eddie and I nearly tore apart his trailer trying to find it.

And they had.

After Eddie had dropped the news that he, indeed, might have been the cause of this switch—unintentionally—he and Steve headed to Forest Hills to find the book.

Steve honestly felt a little vindicated that it actually was Eddie who had done this to the two of them, but...he admitted that he might have let all of the mania about Eddie and Hellfire Club fuel his anger.

But as he stood off to the side and watched the boys flip through the pages with Eddie as Eddie regaled them with his campaign ideas and the sigil that had caught his eye, Steve couldn't help but feel that bitter vile jealousy begin to bubble up again.

How long ago was it that he was taking them to the junkyard to ride their bikes and find scraps and bits and pieces for them to use for their...LORPing...LARPing...

And it was fun, yeah, watching the little idiots get excited over hunks of discarded pipes they could use as staffs, and bent and dented garbage can lids they could use as shields.

But he had done all of those things in an effort to make Nancy see he was a good guy, and he had lost her. And he had kept doing those things because the kids were actually fun and like the younger siblings he had always wanted...and now they were arguing about the differences between Latin and Ancient Mycenaean with Eddie.

He just couldn't keep up.

So he took the route he always knew would keep him and his feelings safe: he lashed out.

"Alright, so," he put his hands on his hips." What's the verdict, how soon can we switch back? I don't want to be stuck smelling like weed for the rest of my life. Do you even wash your clothes, Munson?"

All four boys—well, 3 boys and one man—stared at Steve with wide, almost hurting eyes. And Steve realized...

Shit.

...he hadn't made fun of someone like that in front of the kids that way in a long time.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't," he sighed and collapsed into Dustin's desk chair. "It's just been a really long day guys. It isn't easy being Eddie."

"Oh?" Eddie scoffed. "You just realizing that now Harrington? After one day of being me? You have it so fucking easy that it takes one day of...what? Being pushed around or called a freak or driving an old van that is not a rusty old shitbox, by the way. One day without your big house and your notes from your mommy and your neatly pressed clothes and your cute girlfriend doting on you?"

"And what do you know about my life?" Steve argued. "You don't know half of the shit that I go through! And you don't even care. You go around without a care in the world. Everyone you think is your friend is either afraid of you or looking for your approval. I heard from Janie Miller that you offered to give her free weed one time if she flashed you her boobs. You don't care who you're hurting or insulting or shitting on unless it's fun for you."

It was a miracle Mrs. Henderson didn't come to see what the ruckus was about because it just went on. Enough that they started talking over one another. One dig after another, one way their lives were seemingly better or seemingly worse.

The kids tried to interrupt them but they just kept going.

And Steve's breathing got heavy and his throat got tight, his eyes stung with unshed tears as he thought about...

The way everyone left him. The way he was actually alone. The way his dad couldn't see how hard he sought his approval. The way his mom only did nice things for him anymore was because he knew her secrets. The way his high school friends only liked him because of his popularity. The way that Nancy Wheeler never actually liked him at all, just liked the way he made her feel. The way that the kids left him behind for the next cool older brother kind of guy that came along. The way he was sure even Robin only half-tolerated him.

And the more that he thought those thoughts, the more...the more Eddie's body felt like his. The more he could feel every hair follicle on his head, the way every breath rattled his chest a little bit, the way his ears rang a little bit constantly from the loud music he always blasted in his van.

It got to be so much that it was scary.

But he and Eddie kept on arguing, until someone had the good sense to stop them.

"SHUT UP!" Will yelled and everything went silent. The two older boys stared at Will and he shrunk a little bit under their gaze. "I, uh, I think I figured out what happened."

"Well?" Steve snarked.

"...well I don't know for sure..." Will replied hesitantly. "I don't take Latin with Lucas and Dustin. B-but this right here. Alterius Oculos. Another's eyes?"

He pointed to the inscription on the page Eddie had shown them, right above the sigil.

“Ok what about ‘another’s eyes?’” Eddie asked.

“You need to…see through another’s eyes maybe.” Lucas offered. “Not literally. Figuratively. Empathize with them? Ms. Kelly told me about that a few weeks ago. Put yourself in someone else’s shoes.”

“Except, it’s actually literal,” Dustin snapped his fingers. “Because you two are actually seeing through one another’s eyes and wearing each other’s shoes.”

“So I drew the sigil, went to bed and we switched bodies to see through each other’s eyes and…understand each other better?” Eddie huffed. “I wasn’t even thinking of Harrington when I drew it!”

“What were you thinking of?” Lucas questioned.

Eddie quietly picked at his fingernails, and Steve looked down at his own hands—at Eddie’s actual hands—and saw the ripped up skin and closely trimmed nails. Eddie was a nail biter.

Eddie Munson was a nail biter and he was nervous and he was…

“I was thinking that…nothing good ever happened to me. That…I needed to have a reality check or something,” Eddie shrugged.

…Eddie was a loser. He didn’t have it all figured out. He struggled with things…beyond Steve’s understanding. Even because of Steve sometimes.

“Hey, uh,” Steve cut in. “It’s not like I did anything to help things last night.”

“What do you mean?” Will asked.

“I, uh, might have charged you extra for your movie rental just to get you out of my hair for a while.”

“I knew it!” Eddie exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Steve. “I knew you were pulling that shit on purpose.”

“Can you fucking blame me, have you ever met yourself?” Steve asked.

“Well, I certainly can say I have now,” Eddie grumbled. “So how do we fix this? How do we switch back?”

The younger boys all shared another nervous look.

“I guess…” Will began. “Do more things to understand each other. Just…do whatever the other would do…live each other’s lives.”

“For how long? Forever?” Steve scoffed.

“Lucas and I can translate the rest of this page,” Dustin offered.

“I’m sorry, Lucas and who?” Lucas asked. “You’re barely passing Latin.”

“Ok Lucas can translate the page while Will and I can do my best to help ‘Eddie’ navigate Hellfire Club.” Dustin held his hands out as though he was weighing his options. “And ‘Steve’ can just…not fuck up real Steve’s life. Or real Eddie’s life for that matter!”

“Can’t fuck up something that’s at Rock Bottom,” Steve grumbled.

“And maybe you two could work on understanding each other in the mean time?” Lucas asked.

Steve and Eddie stared at one another in a way that felt, to Steve at least, like a challenge. They nodded and Steve felt the unspoken “let the best man win” ring through the air.

Otherwise they were both gonna lose.

Eddie threw his head back with laughter.

"Swing and a miss," he called as you swung the putter at the little purple golf ball, over and over, without actually hitting it. "Honey, are you just letting me win? There's no way you can be so bad at this."

"We can't all be professional mini golfers," you laughed at him.

"Excuse me, that is 'mini golf champion,'" Eddie boasted. "They have my face in the Hall of Fame."

"Oh I didn't know I was in the presence of a celebrity," you bowed to him. "Maybe you could take some pity on a poor peasant and help me get this shot please."

"I supposed I could give you some pointers," he sighed dramatically and sidled up behind you. He wrapped his arms comfortably around you and his hands found yours on the putter. When he tried to get your body into position to make the shot, you pressed yourself back against him and rested your head on his shoulder a bit. "Hmmm, what is this funny business, honey? Trying to distract me?"

You wiggled your shoulders and relaxed, leaning your body further into his, emphasizing the softness of you against the hardness of him.

And it was only getting harder by the second.

"Maybe I'm trying to win?" you turned your head to look at him, breath fanning against his jaw.

"Considering I've made par on every hole so far—"

"I'm not talking about golf anymore Eddie," you muttered, shaking your hands out from below his on the putter so you could turn within his embrace and cup his face softly...reverently. "I...you know I've always had a huge crush on you."

"Honey, why do you have to tell me such sweet things?" Eddie asked. "It's our first date, I'm trying to be a gentleman. We're in public."

"And if we weren't in public?" You tilted your face closer to his, lips practically brushing against his. "Would you be a gentleman then?"

"Do you want me to be?" he asked breathlessly.

He dropped the putter and grabbed at your waist as he crushed his mouth to yours. It was a hungry sort of kiss, like he was a man starved. And when the joyous moan that came from you was as sweet as honey, Eddie resolved that you were, indeed, going to give him a sweet tooth.

Eddie's hands slid easily across the smooth surface of your shiny taffeta dress as he pulled you closer, causing it to rustle as it crinkled under his touch. It got harder to think as he savored your softness but he dreamed of what it would be like to be surrounded by all of you. To be consumed, and suffocated, and smothered by you.

He could have it...he could have you...

You pulled away momentarily and stared up into his eyes, yours glassy with want and adoration, something that he only ever hoped you would look at him with.

"Do you wanna answer the phone?" you muttered.

"W-what?"

"Steven are you up?" There was a knock on the bedroom door and Eddie woke with a start. He groggily looked around the room, at the plaid wallpaper and the tidy belongings.

Damn. The thing that he hoped was a dream was real, and the thing he hoped was real was only a dream.

"There's someone calling for you. Did you wanna answer?" Mrs. Harrington said through the door.

"Y-yeah, uh," Eddie called out and cleared his throat. "M-mom." The word was unfamiliar on his tongue, in his brain. Like a language that hadn't been practiced in quite some time.

He hoped, at the very least, Steve didn't call her "mommy."

He had been well on his way to an early-riser if he hadn't been woken up, but nothing was a bigger boner-killer than thinking of Mrs. Harrington as "mommy."

"Alright, come downstairs when you're ready; I'm making breakfast too. Your favorite."

Eddie pushed himself out of Steve's bed for the fifth day in a row. Threw on some of Steve's clothes for the fifth day in a row.

After the discussion with the kids on Friday night, he and Steve had agreed to go through the motions, make the best of living one-another's lives and actually put in the effort. Eddie told him about the things he did to make things easier around the trailer since Wayne worked nights--the laundry, grocery shopping, bringing home a little extra money by dealing—and Steve told Eddie the things he did—driving Robin to school, working at Family Video, his "health routines."

Although, Eddie would hesitate to call shaving his chest and styling his hair something someone did for their health.

He was also hesitant to maintain Steve's morning run, considering the fact that he hated running, but found that it was easier in Steve's athletic body than in his garbage bag one—Steve's words, not his.

They also set one non-negotiable thing each, that the other must do no matter what.

For Eddie, that was Corroded Coffin and their Tuesday gigs, like the one they had that night.

He had spent the weekend coming up with a plan for them to still play, even with Steve in his body and fully unable to play the guitar. Steve had even offered to learn some easy guitar riffs or chords, but Eddie had standards to keep. It would be his luck that on the night Steve was in his body putzing around that some....record label exec would walk into the Hideout. He wasn't gonna let that fly.

So they figured out that "Steve" would be spending some time with "Eddie" at Dustin's request so they could "reconcile their differences." And in an effort to learn more about "Eddie," he would go to Corroded Coffin's shows.

Since the "stage lights" were so bright and blinding anyway, no one would know that he slipped into the supply closet where his Fender would be plugged into the equipment, while Steve faked playing an unfortunately dead Sweetheart on stage. There was more to the performance than just focusing on the music...so he'd just have to hope that none of the guys gave Steve any cues that he couldn't see.

The singing was an easy fix. Jeff was working on his confidence; Eddie would just let him be the frontman tonight. No need to worry about Steve knowing any of the songs, let alone their lyrics.

He was an optimist when it came to music though. This would work.

For Steve, it was that Eddie did not talk to his parents outside of any quick, cordial conversations. And Eddie wasn't one to pry—he had his fair share of parental issues—it just seemed weird that the mention of Ma and Pa Harrington would cause Golden Boy Stevie to choke up the way he did.

Thankfully for Eddie, the Harrington's had vibrant social lives. Thomas Harrington worked late at the car dealership and then went out for dinner and drinks with his salesmen most nights Monday through Saturday. And on Sunday he got his clubs out of the hall closet and went to the Country Club to play with his other businessman friends for most of the day. Mary Harrington was just...unexplainably gone from the house for most of the day, most days. Eddie couldn't even explain when she was home to do all of the things she seemed to do around the house.

"Steve" had the day off of work yesterday so he was home for most of the day, and short of the few hours he had left the house to take you out on another date, Mary hadn't been home at all. Miraculously, when he returned at the end of the night, his hamper was empty, his bed had been made, his new schedule was written in his calendar, and his lunch was ready in the fridge for the following day.

Eddie wondered why everyone thought he was capable of dark magic when, clearly, Mary Harrington was the town's resident witch.

This morning was the first one that he had even heard her voice, let alone be the first time he would see her as he resided in Steve’s body.

Eddie crept down the stairs and into the hall, peering around to see if Mrs. Harrington was anywhere nearby then approached the little hall table where the phone was sitting off the hook.

"Good morning, this is Steve Harrington," he greeted as he pressed the receiver to his ear. "Fine purveyor of rental videos, microwave popcorn, and movie theater candy. How can I help you?" There was giggling on the other end of the line and he grinned.

"Please don't tell me that's how you answer the phone at Family Video?" you said, instead of a "hello."

"I will now," he promised.

"No!"

"You'll just have to call more often and stop people from actually having to hear it." His smile grew at your skeptical uh huh and he continued. "What's going on this morning, honey. I thought you had class."

He could envision you leaning against a payphone, twirling a finger through a lock of your hair.

"I have a few minutes," you explained. "But I just wanted to call and say I had a really good time last night."

He had taken you to the drive in to see a double feature—House on Haunted Hill and The Bat; Eddie knew you loved Vincent Price but "Steve" just had incredibly luck—but most of the night was spent talking and holding hands and at the end of the night, he got to kiss you again.

Eddie felt triumphant once again, knowing deep down that you would like the dates he had planned over anything Steve could have come up with.

Part of the discussion with Steve about how to go about each other's lives also included you. Eddie had hesitated and asked how Steve felt that someone else was dating his girlfriend and Steve had just shrugged.

"She's a good one, I don't wanna let her get away," Steve shrugged. "You'll just have to keep her warm for me."

"Is that really the best way to build a relationship?" Eddie asked. "Lies? Tricks?"

"She doesn't have to know you're not me," Steve explained. "Just...take it easy, don't do any of the good stuff until we switch back. You wanna know some of my favorite dating spots?"

So Eddie decided...if he happened to be stuck in Steve's body forever he could have you. And if he ever made it back to his body...well...Steve wasn't exactly as smooth as people thought he was. If he couldn't keep up the loverboy act Eddie had started, you would get fed up and dump him.

And Eddie would be right there to pick up the pieces.

"Oh yeah?" Eddie laughed. "Well I'm glad. I did too. What was your favorite part?"

"Uhhh...oh! That part when you—"

The two of you chatted for a few minutes, talking and laughing easily, before you told him you had to get to class. He needed to get going too, so he could drive Robin to school.

His chest ached a little when he hung up the phone.

"It's good to see you smiling, Stevie," came a voice from over his shoulder. He jumped, seeing Mary leaning against the threshold to the living room.

"Uh, good morning," Eddie greets her.

"Were you hungry? Figured we could have a little chat over breakfast," she smiled an obviously strained smile.

Shit, how did she know? What did she know?

"I actually have to get going," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder then put his hands in his pockets. "Take Robin to school...get to work, open the shop."

"Let me get your lunch then!" Her eyes crinkled at the corners and she dashed away. Eddie wondered if he could make an escape before she came back, but before long she was pressing the brown paper bag into his hand. "I put your allowance in there too. Remember Dad can't find out about it, Steve. Please...dad can't find out. Please."

"Oh...kay," Eddie frowned. Was that the reason Steve didn't want Eddie talking to his parents? Because his dad cut him off but his mom was giving him money instead? Well, Eddie could keep a secret, and enjoy the benefits of some extra pocket money. "Sure. Mom. Whatever you say. I've gotta go."

"You have plans tonight?" she asked. "I can leave dinner for you."

"Nah, I'll probably be home late," Eddie explained. "Going out with friends."

Mary's face fell into a neutral expression, then she rolled her eyes and sighed. It was night and day from how it was just moments before, and it was incredibly uncomfortable for Eddie.

"You can't do this forever Steven," she shook her head. "Keep me at arms length. I'm your mother. I'm trying."

"I don't...I'm sorry mom. I've gotta go."

Eddie scooped Steve's keys out of the little dish on the table and headed towards the front door.

"I'm trying, Steven," Mary called after him cryptically. "You can't be mad at me forever."

Tuesdays were your favorite day of the week.

Well they weren't...your favorite; did anyone even have a favorite day of the week?

To be completely honest, they were actually kind of nasty.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were the days you had the heaviest course load at the Community College. Your first class started at 7am—you thought they would be easy thanks to your early starts in high school, but you thought wrong—and aside from a brief, squeezed-in lunch break at 11:45, you had classes straight until 3. Tuesdays also meant Bingo at the Rec center and an early dinner rush of senior citizens at Benny's that started right at the beginning of your shift. So no breaks again until closer to 6? Or 7? Or later if the actual dinner rush ran long.

And Benny was a nice guy, right? He always let you take an extra 5 minutes when he made his rounds about the restaurant to greet the regulars.

But Lynn? The curmudgeonly opening waitress who had been around Benny's before it was even Benny's?! Who had been doing this for longer than you'd been alive? Lynn spent the tiny bit of overlap in your shifts criticizing everything you did.

Every. Little. Thing.

Usually you could ignore her, but on Tuesdays when you were just one...big mass of irritation, it took everything in you not to flip her the bird as she left. Just one big "fuck you, you miserable old bitch" to her back as she retreated to her clunky, old Mercury Monterey.

As soon as her tail lights were out of sight from the diner windows and she was a little too far to turn back and chastise you about something she forgot to earlier—she had done that enough for it to always be a valid fear—you got to breathe.

You suddenly gained a sense of serenity and joy.

Because Tuesday wasn't your favorite day. Tuesday nights were your favorite nights.

Corroded Coffin came in on Tuesdays. Eddie came in on Tuesdays.

You told yourself going into the day...well, now that you were dating Steve...it was going to be different. It had to be different. The date on Friday really felt like Steve had turned a new leaf; he was moving on from Nancy and was actually gonna give this thing with you a chance.

And your date with him the night before? It had been so perfect; you hadn't even thought about Eddie once. Well...actually...

That fleeting thought you had about Eddie on Friday night, wondering how he might kiss you, left a pit in your stomach. And it had returned with a vengeance after Steve had kissed you last night too. Enough so that it practically kept you up all night from guilt and made you call him this morning to tell him...

I really had a good time with you last night but when you kissed me I thought of someone else.

...to tell him what a great time you had, and that you were excited to see him again.

And it wasn't a lie. You were excited to see him. Excited for this change in him. Excited for the attention and affection he freely gave you during these last two dates that he, generally, hadn't given you during the first two.

You owed it to Steve, and to yourself, to give it a chance. And in order for it to be a fair chance, you had to make a clear distinction in your mind that...well...Steve was...your boyfriend now, and Eddie? Eddie was unfortunately just a friend.

A friend you wanted to kiss.

God this was gonna be difficult.

You could still be nice to him, still look forward to Tuesday nights when he and the guys would come in. They were fun nights filled with music and silly arguments and a textbook example of "boys will be boys."

You simply had to remember that all of those little extra things you did—make sure his favorite booth was free, ask Benny for pickles on his patty melt that he always forgot to ask for, or give him extra whipped cream on his slice of pie—weren't because you wanted Eddie to like you. Or notice you. Or maybe ask you out one day.

It was because you were his friend.

You had even come up with some foolproof plan to get the butterflies to stop flapping in your stomach when you did all of those little things for Eddie. Because you certainly couldn't stop doing them; that would be suspicious. Instead, every time your heart would beat a little harder for Eddie, you would just...think of Steve. His smile and his laugh and his kiss...

It would be so easy.

And certainly much easier tonight of all nights, as Steve walked into Benny's with Corroded Coffin, laughing along to some joke Jeff told before they had opened the door.

It would be so easy.

"Hey guys," you greeted nervously and turned to Steve. "What are you doing here?"

“What a lovely greeting Honey,” Steve chuckled and quickly glanced around before he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment as Eddie and the boys watched the interaction, Dave and Gareth giving Eddie pointed looks, which he ignored.

How strange.

“Steve, please,” you laughed nervously. “I’m at work.”

“Well the boss isn’t around,” Steve pointed out.

“Uh…w-well I have your usual booth ready guys,” you greeted Eddie and his friends.

"Harrington's joining us tonight," Eddie pointed out. "Can we get a table or instead?"

"I can just pull an extra chair up to the booth," you offered, knowing Eddie really liked the view out of the window.

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "That booth does sound nice, Eddie. I don't mind a chair."

"No, we'll get a table," Eddie waved a hand dismissively. "Everyone good with that?" The rest of the guys agreed and Steve huffed an agreement beside you.

"Ok, uh," you stammered. "Wherever you guys wanna sit then, I'm the only one here tonight. And Ben. As usual."

It wasn't...terrible or anything, them wanting a table, it just threw off your cadence. If they had sat in the booth, you already had menus, waters, and silverware set out. Now you had to move everything across the restaurant because Eddie had beelined for a round table in the corner.

It was fine.

Steve hung back for a second and pulled you to the side.

"Hey, uh, is it ok that I'm here?" he asked. "You look a little flustered."

"Yeah, no I'm ok," you gave him a small smile. "Just wasn't expecting you. And I've had a bit of a long day. Kind of overdue for my last break too."

"You should ask Benny if you can take your break," Steve offered. "We'll be fine. The guys are hungry but they'll have to wait regardless."

"The...guys..." you narrowed your eyes at Steve. It felt too familiar coming from his mouth. "What are you doing here with them Steve?"

There was a beat as Steve's eyes got a little bigger and he looked down at his feet for a second before he cleared his throat.

"Listen Honey, I took what you said the other day to heart," Steve started quietly, inching a little closer to you. "About Eddie being your friend. I figured...he had something going on with him, I shouldn't have been so quick to judge. So I went to check up on him and...I don't know, turns out the guy isn't half bad when you get to know him."

"Really?" you asked blankly. You had no reason not to trust him but...going from calling someone a dangerous freak who should be in jail to hanging out with him and his friends in just a few days...seemed drastic.

But when you stared into his hazel eyes, there wasn't a hint of deceit in them.

"Sure," he shrugged a little. "I even went and watched his band play tonight."

"You did?" You were sure the craziest music Steve was into was Van Halen, if that. All of the tapes in his car were…rocky and poppy and nothing outside of the Top 40 charts.

"They're pretty good," he grinned. "Very good actually. They did Flight of Icarus and Mr. Crowley."

"You...listen to metal?" you asked with a frown.

"Uh," Steve shrugged again. "There's some good songs. And Ozzy. Who doesn't know Ozzy?"

"You gonna sit there and chit chat all night Harrington?" Eddie called from the table and the rest of the guys all chuckled. Steve's eyes hardened for a second but he gave you a gentle smile before he went to join them.

You didn't always go outside during your breaks; more often than not, you would sit in the kitchen, do some homework, and chat with Benny as he manned the grill. You'd think a middle-aged man and a 19-year old would have nothing in common, but Benny was honestly like an aloof father figure. He just stood there as you talked or complained about this or that, offered advice or lame jokes. It was perfect.

But tonight was just...confusing.

You tried to make the best of it, you really did. You brought the guys everything they needed, you smiled shyly when Steve reached over and held your hand as he ordered...

He even asked for a little kiss and you reluctantly gave him a peck on the cheek.

But it was Eddie.

He was being a real douchebag. Not to everyone else; just to you.

You had gotten their table set up and then went to check on the other customers and get their drink orders. But when you came back, he didn't even want his Dr. Pepper. He said water was fine.

When you asked everyone if they wanted their usuals—Patty Melts all around. No onions for Dave, extra sauce for Gareth, on a bun instead of rye for Jeff, and add pickles for Eddie—Eddie changed his mind and ordered a bacon cheeseburger instead. Ok, no big deal. It wasn't the first time he'd changed it up.

But then he had just been...picky.

The fries were overdone, the bacon wasn't crispy, it wasn't medium well.

You had brought his food back to the kitchen 3 times, and Benny even offered to kill Eddie for you to get you to laugh.

"He's a good kid but maybe it's his time of the month or something," Benny shrugged, urging you to let things slide. "Got bitten by a werewolf. Or turned into a vampire or something. I could even put some garlic powder on the fries, see if it does him in."

He then told you to go take your break, that he would take the burger back out and make sure none of the guys were having any problems with their food.

"Or else," he raised his spatula as though it was a deadly weapon.

Who knows, Benny kept things to himself, maybe he could kill someone with a spatula...

You were leaning against the grey stucco on the side of the building, enjoying the slight breeze, when there was a crunch of gravel off to the side. You turned your head to see Steve standing there with a small smile and his hands in his pockets.

"You doing ok, honey?" he asked.

"Yeah, just a long day like I said," you explained.

"How was class?"

"Stupid. How was work?"

"Stupid." He grinned wider. "I, uh, was really looking forward to seeing you tonight though."

You pursed your lips to stop the smile from making it onto your face.

"You really wanted to see me in my stupid uniform?" you asked, holding your hands out to emphasize the shapeless blue dress. "I look like Hazel."

"Did I ever tell you that I had the biggest crush on Shirley Booth when I was a kid?" You broke out in laughter. "What? What's so funny? Hazel might just be my type, did you ever think of that?"

"You are..." you started, but paused and shook your head dismissively as he got closer to you.

"I'm?" he questioned, leaning over to take one of your hands in his. He pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"You're not...what I expected Steve Harrington to be like," you muttered. His eyes went wide for a second as they darted back and forth between yours. "You're so much better."

"Of course I'm better, it's because I'm..." He faltered for a moment. "It's because I'm crazy about you, honey."

Your heart dropped into your stomach...

Steve was...crazy about you?

"You just make me wanna dance," he chuckled and took a step back, pulling you with him. He lifted your arm and made to twirl you around, and you laughed as you tripped on the gravel drive. He urged you to try again and you managed to twirl this time, apron flaring.

Round and around until you got a little dizzy and he pulled you to his chest.

"Hi Honey," he whispered as he rocked you back and forth to some unheard tune.

"Hi," you giggled breathlessly.

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't always have to ask."

"But can?"

"Always."

Then his lips pressed to yours and you closed your eyes and you were surrounded by him again. Noses brushing, his lips softly pecking at yours, his hands tugging you closer as you reached up to hold his face in yours.

He pulled away briefly to drop little kisses on the corner of your mouth, then your cheek. Your eyes opened and you watched your own fingers thread through his hair, seemingly leading him further along to your neck, but instead it was just an unwitting follower because the choice to suck a bruising kiss at your pulse point was anything but yours.

You grasped at him tighter as something between a whimper and a moan exited you, and he chuckled in a husky, smokey way before laving his tongue over the abused spot.

You closed your eyes again, luxuriating in the moment and all things Steve Harrington...then it hit you.

All of the other senses got to you first—touch and taste, and sound and sight—and now it was smell. And it wasn't what you had initially associated with Steve, that bright, citrus scent.

It was musky and sweaty and spicy and a little bit sweet. There was a heavy undertone of tobacco beneath it all.

Eddie.

"Hey kid, break time's over!" Benny hollered into the night and you pushed yourself away from Steve, stumbling over the gravel drive once again. His hands reached out for you, to pull you back or to steady you, you couldn't be sure.

You regained your footing and batted his hands away to quickly fix your rumpled uniform and wipe at your lips with the back of your hand.

"You good Honey?" Steve chuckled. "You need a minute?"

"Uhh, yeah, I'll be in there in just a second," you waved him back inside. He gave you a wink and a smug smile before he turned and headed back to the door.

Your posture went slack for a second as you tried to control your heart rate and your thoughts. And where your head should have been consumed with thoughts of Steve, instead they were filled with—

"Nope! No. No more!" You stomped your feet and gave your face a few light slaps. "No more. Bad."

You took a few deep breaths, regained your composed service persona, and headed back in.

You spotted the guys table had been cleared, so you got ready for the best part of the night.

Benny was a realist who knew how to do burgers, fries, and shakes, and outside of that, didn't push the ticket. Which meant all of the desserts came from the local bakery every afternoon. They even came pre-sliced.

The whipped cream however? Benny was a connoisseur. He boasted to everyone that had the patience to hear about it that it wasn't cool whip, it wasn't from a squeeze can. If there was whipped cream on a shake or a dessert it was fresh.

"Nothing good in life comes without a little effort," he said the first time he handed you the hand-crank-egg beater-turned-cream-whipper that was, most assuredly, older than you.

So you spent the next few minutes plating everyone's desserts, whipping the cream, and getting it all looking perfect. It might have been the end of their meal, but it was the highlight of your night.

You would take a win where you could. Because everything else felt...

"Alright guys, time for dessert?" you asked, bringing the tray to their table.

You went clockwise starting with Eddie at the head of the table.

Cherry pie for Eddie, Apple for Gareth and Dave, Cheesecake for Jeff.

"And I didn't know what you'd like Steve," you told him with a sad smile. "But just let me know what sounds good and I can go grab it for you."

You were about to start putting dollops of whipped cream on everyone's dessert when Eddie pushed his plate further out from him.

"I didn't ask for Cherry," he said with a sniff.

Everything went quiet.

"Uh," Dave looked at the other guys at the table. "Cherry is your favorite man."

"I don't know, I'm not in a cherry pie mood," Eddie dismissed. He looked up at you "Can I get cheesecake instead? No whipped cream."

"S-sure," you smiled.

You were about to grab the cherry pie from the table to bring it back when Steve reached out and pulled it towards him.

"I'll just take this one," he reasoned. "Cherry actually is my favorite, and I am definitely in a cherry pie mood."

Eddie laughed.

"Whatever you say Harrington," he teased with a roll of his eyes. "Guess you have to get an extra long run in tomorrow if you're indulging so much. Mr. Star Athlete over here."

The

"I'm not gonna say no to cherry pie," Steve shrugged then looked at you. "Can I get extra cream on mine honey?"

He winked at you and you felt your face heating up, but you kept your mouth shut. You went around piping the whipped cream on everyone else's desserts, then ran back to the kitchen to get Eddie's.

As soon as the door swung shut behind you, you started to feel sick.

Something was wrong...

It was just off, you'd been feeling it all night. But you couldn't put a finger on it until now.

It was Eddie...

He was still his funny self...for the most part. But just like the other day at Family Video, he just seemed to be operating on a different frequency. And you wondered for a second if maybe it was you...or maybe it was Steve...maybe the fact that Steve was here and he wasn't...being very discreet with his affections. Neither were you, if you were being honest.

Was he...angry? Jealous?

He was the one to invite Steve out in the first place, so it seemed. Something just didn't make sense...

Steve had to admit that he was having fun.

It had barely been a few days of being Eddie Munson, but it was great. He spent most of the weekend with the kids learning the basics of DnD and putting together some things for a campaign.

He still didn't really get the whole game part, actually. But spending time with the kids? He wouldn't say no.

Having to go to school again wasn't...the greatest. Especially when all of the teachers seemed to have it out for Eddie. Steve just...started paying a little more attention, stopped being a general menace during class. He dug deep to remember some of the coursework from last year...and vaguely wondered how much Eddie didn't pay attention in class in the first place. Steve was not a model student and he could still remember this stuff, so he figured Eddie should be getting an A+ in all of his classes he was repeating now for a second time.

He was sorely mistaken.

Eddie's friends were also...pretty nice too, he had to admit. He had never really given the Hellfire Club the time of day when he was still at Hawkins High, aside from the obvious, but they were actually pretty nice guys.

The music though? It had been the highlight of his week so far.

Steve hadn't ever really understood what the big whoop the theater kids got performing but it was an adrenaline rush, something he hadn't felt for months since he was no longer a star athlete. He hadn't even been playing the guitar but the high of being on that raised platform, having the lights in his eyes, having his heart beat in time with the drum. He hammed it up a bit on the stage once he felt confident enough, like he had seen in one concert or another.

It wasn't the kind of music he liked, really, but he could get used to it if only to chase that rush.

And Steve had felt like a king again when Jeff had clapped him on the shoulder at the end of the set and excitedly gushed on that being the first time he had ever fully landed some solo or another.

Except..."Eddie" hadn't nailed the solo. Eddie had.

And as infectious as the celebration was, it made him feel a little guilty that Eddie couldn't even properly celebrate what must have been an exciting moment. Instead he just sauntered out from the little alcove they had set up and watched Steve take the credit for his accomplishments.

Steve went through the motions, just like they had agreed on, for the rest of the night.

They went to Benny's with "Steve" in tow at "Eddie's" insistence—he couldn't be left alone with Eddie's friends, he just knew he would fuck something up and give it all away—and had their late night bites.

And you were there, laughing and chatting and doting on all of the guys, especially "Steve." Even though it sucked watching you kiss his cheek, knowing it was really Eddie inside…it was nice to know that he had something to look forward to once he got back into his own body.

Something real. Something he thought he had with Nancy.

Now that the remnants of dessert were pretty much over and the guys were just shooting the shit until Benny kicked them out, Steve wandered across the restaurant to the old jukebox to pick out some music.

He briefly wondered what the response would be if “Eddie” picked something like Billy Joel. He couldn't give less of a shit though. "Eddie" might not like it but Steve was a little tired of metal after hearing it all night, after all.

"Hey Eddie?" your voice came from behind him and he turned to face you.

"Yeah, hey...uh...sweetheart," he gave you an easy smile. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok," you explained. “You seem…I dunno, kinda off tonight.”

“What?” Steve faltered. He seemed off? How? If you could tell…could the others?

”Yeah you didn’t…want your regular order, you didn’t want pie,” you shrugged. “Didn’t even want whipped cream on your cheesecake.”

Shit.

How was it that he could flawlessly fake his way through a guitar solo, but not this?

"I...uh...," he started hesitantly, wracking his brain for an excuse. He dug deep, deeper than he thought was possible, and he came up with...

Dinner with his parents. His father pushing away a plateful of food. His mother looking tired and bored.

"Sometimes people's tastes change," he finished.

It was a painful answer for him to give...but he didn't think you and Eddie were close enough for your expression to crumple the way it did. It probably wasn't the kind of answer Eddie would give to a friend—he had seen how protective he had been over them even before this whole fiasco—but if it meant getting you off his back, he would easily do something that would push you away.

"You know I've been worried about you," you stared. "The other day, outside of Family Video. It was so incredibly scary. And if you're having a tough time..."

"Uh, yeah," Steve folded his arms across his chest awkwardly. "Sorry about that. It was just...just a bad high. I'm ok now. No need to worry."

"Ok," you nodded hesitantly. Steve thought you would just turn on your heel and walk away.

But you didn't.

“Listen I know we’re not…super close or anything,” you hesitated. Steve raised his eyebrows and nodded for you to continue. “I just…I want you to know you aren’t alone.”

“Thanks, uh, I appreciate that,” he nodded and smiled tightly.

"And if there is something going on, you can trust me."

"Of course."

"You know," you paused and looked down at your hands. It was several beats of you taking deep breaths and looking down at your hands, and Steve wondered if you were waiting for some kind of response...or thinking the right words to say next. You glanced up and frowned. "I had a-a c-crush on you in high school."

His heart dropped in his chest and suddenly it felt like Nancy all over again. Telling him that she didn't love him, telling him that it was over, that their relationship was fake, that she didn't even know she was ready to be in a relationship. Only to show up with Jonathan Byers to the Sadie Hawkins dance a few weeks later.

Steve thought everything was working out so well with you. He watched you...kiss his cheek.

Were you planning on breaking up with him?

He wanted to lash out, like a wild animal, tell you all of the things he wishes he could have said to Nancy.

Except...

Except he wasn't Steve Harrington at that moment, he was Eddie Munson.

And you weren't confessing your feelings in a way like someone with a crush would. You didn't look happy or excited. You didn't even really look like your usual sweet and kind self. You looked conflicted.

Because, he realized, he did watch you kiss his cheek. He, Steve, watched you kiss "Steve's" cheek.

If you weren't here to tell "Eddie" that you were breaking up with "Steve" to be with him, then what were you doing?

"I-I mean, we both did," you backtracked with a little laugh and Steve frowned. "Me and Terry. You remember Terry right? I mean, of course you do."

Steve didn't know who Terry was, but "Eddie" would.

"Of course I do."

""Right," you smiled. "Anyway, we both had a crush on you. And there was this time...I don't know, you don't want to hear about this."

"You're dating Steve now," he pointed out. "Why are you telling me this? Why are you telling me that you—"

"I guess," you interrupted him but hesitated again. "You seemed pretty lonely last year, all the times we talked. Even if they weren't...talks? Just small talk. But...after Mickey left for college and you stayed behind—"

That's right, Mickey Caldwell...and his sister Terry...

"--well you have the band and all...but...no one even wanted to be your partner in class but me. And now...you have to do it again and I'm sure it's even harder now."

Steve was catching on.

You weren't there to tell "Eddie" that you were breaking up with "Steve" to be with him. You were just being a good friend. Because even though Eddie had his group of misfit friends...

He was lonely.

Steve knew the feeling. Aside from Robin and the kids...he really didn't have anyone around either. He had just been thinking about how nice it was to spend time with Eddie and his friends after all.

Steve had been jealous that Eddie was spending all of this time with the kids...taking them away from Steve, when he was just as lonely as Steve was...if not more so.

It gave him an idea...

"So," you broke Steve from his thoughts. "If you ever...want to talk. I'm here for you. You have me, always, if ever you want."

You smiled then. Bright and hopeful.

"Well, thanks, sweetheart," he nodded and placed a hand on your shoulder. "I appreciate it...really...it's very nice of you. You're a really good friend."

He didn't see—didn't notice—how your smile fell as he walked past you to get back to the table with the rest of the guys.

Eddie walked into the familiar darkness of the Harrington house, a good exhaustion settling in his bones as he trudged up the stairs and into his bedroom. 

He went through the motions of getting ready for bed. with a peaceful smile on his face. It had been a good day, the likes of which he really hadn’t felt in a long time. If ever. 

The show at the Hideout then dinner at Benny’s. Dancing with you, kissing you, and holding you in his arms.

He could see your smile in his mind’s eye clear as day.

He didn’t want to delude himself into thinking it was love or…or happiness…it was just joy. Plain and simple. And it brought him so much comfort, knowing he could be the one to provide that for you.

Once he was in bed though, and he replayed specific moments over again, that comfort soon faded.

He tried to sleep, he really did.

But every thought he had, he thought of you. Looking perfect in your little uniform. Your laugh as you spoke to everyone, the special attention you gave him. You looked at him the way he always wanted you to.

You moaned the way he could only ever have imagined when he kissed your neck. It was filthy and still ringing in his ears hours later.

He’d wanted to touch you, just like he did in his dream that morning and it was even nicer than he had imagined.

The only thing that would have made it better was if he was in his own body. If it was him, Eddie Munson, that you were looking at and feeling things for and moaning for.

It was with all of that and at the reminder of the dream that he had been so rudely pulled from that morning, that Eddie started getting hot under the collar. 

It wasn’t about sex, really; it was intimacy. And that’s what he wanted more than anything. The closeness with you. To know you. To be with you.

He closed his eyes and imagined your smile directed at him again, the way you put your hand on his shoulder when you asked if everyone was alright, and then fixed his hair a little bit when you went to leave. 

His hair…he’d always been sensitive about it and even in this other body…in his own body…giving it a tug always helped get his motor running.

Eddie reached up and gave Steve’s hair an experimental tug, the short few days not nearly enough for him to be used to the difference in length and texture. It felt crunchy from all the product he had put in and it immediately felt uncomfortable on his fingers.

No touching the hair, noted.

He vaguely wondered, were his nerves on fire because this body was sensitive and aroused and receptive to your attention. Or was it because he, Eddie Munson, resided inside.

Only one way to find out.

He palmed himself over the comforter, then over his sweats, but it wasn’t enough. 

Eddie didn’t hesitate to strip himself of his sweats and the suffocating briefs, and he propped the pillows behind him in a more comfortable way so he could…well so he could watch if he wanted to.

Right now he just wanted to imagine. To feel.

The thought of touching himself had vaguely crossed his mind the other day, after he’d jumped into a cold shower shortly after he’d woken up with morning wood. He wondered if that was crossing a line though. Steve’s dick…was just a dick. Just like his dick was a dick. The same but different. And he’d seen different ones before and yeah some were weird or different sized…did it matter?

If Eddie thought about it from a mechanical sense…a car was a car, no matter who the owner was, or how cautious or rough the driver was…and even two cars of the same make and model could have their very unique quirks…

As long as everything worked and you got from Point A to Point B right?

So he closed his eyes and imagined.

You were there, of course, back outside of Benny’s. He was making you laugh and twirling you around, just like he had earlier that night. Watching your little uniform skirt balloon out just the slightest bit. It wasn’t ruffly or anything, just a standard waitress uniform with a straight skirt.

It didn’t take much touching to get him fully hard; he’d spent enough time exploring to know what he liked so he just let the feelings guide him in this new body.

He licked his palm several times then spit in his hand before he held the shaft loosely. He gave it a few loose strokes before he tightened his grip a little and twisted, hissing at the sweet friction. 

But this was his fantasy, so your uniform could be anything. Flowier, shorter, enough to see the frilly lace edge of your panties when he twirled you and the skirt flared.

“Didn’t know you were trying to turn this sweet moment into a peep show,” you giggled at him and swatted at his chest as he pulled you into his chest to rock together with him.

“I dunno honey,” he sighed. “I think I would be seeing more than just some lace if this was a peep show.”

“Well, what did you have in mind, big boy?”

The hand that had been resting near his head immediately went down to cup and squeeze his balls, and his throat got tighter as he held in a strangled moan. He wasn’t…too sure if he liked it all that much…but he was positive that he didn’t dislike it. He could make himself grow to like it if he needed to.

He stilled the stroking to run his fingers over the head; a favorite little move of his where he pivoted his wrist, letting the joints in his fingers run over the tip and around the head of his cock, hitting all of his sensitive spots in varying intervals. It wasn’t the same, his fingers weren’t as long now, as he noted while he was playing the guitar earlier. 

Regardless, pleasure still surged through him, so it got the job done.

“No peeking,” you whispered against his lips and you covered his eyes with his hands. He’d asked for your panties and you’d agreed without hesitation. If this wasn’t a dream, he would never have been that lucky. He chuckled as your hands pulled away from his and it took everything in him not to look through his fingers at the sound of the rustling of your uniform. 

Suddenly your hands were on the waist of his jeans, working the button open and the zipper downwards.

“Honey, what are you doing?” he teased. “You being naughty?” He just about pulled his hands away from his eyes and you snatched your hands away from him.

“Nooo,” you sing-songed. “No looking yet, I’ll tell you when.”

The ache for him to chase his release was different than he was used to. The best way to describe what he usually felt was…dulcet…smooth…it danced along his nerve endings and made him want more. Drove him to do more, to explore more. A siren’s song to tug and twist and tease until he was floating. But now it was almost…primordial. It leached into his skin and deep into his bones; a hefty, cloying need that would grip his entire being whole and drag him into the depths of the earth itself if it could.

It was a delicious contrast, the difference between the softness of your hand wrapped around him and the slight drag from your panties as you used them to help get him off.

You spit on his tip and let it mingle with his precum, let it slide over the sensitive skin.

Eddie spit in his hand again, trying to achieve that feeling that his imagination conjured up but was just outside of the corporeal.

“Do you like it?” you asked and he could hear the feral grin in your voice.

“I like it,” he moaned. 

“Do you like me?”

“I love you,” he said breathlessly. “Fuck, I would love you so if you just let me.”

He was close, it was euphoric. His nerves exploding, synapses firing as he twisted his hand around the head just so, squeezed his balls again, and then the base of his cock.

“Ok you can look now.”

And he did, directly into those mischievous, knowing eyes of yours as you looked right back at him.

“Cum for me Steve.”

And…he couldn’t…he couldn’t…

Eddie opened his eyes and stared around the room–a room that wasn’t his–looked down at the hands that weren’t his, touching the cock that wasn’t his. 

Because as much as Eddie could simply…compartmentalize and rationalize for however long he had been in his little fantasy…

It was Steve, it was all Steve. All you wanted right now was Steve Harrington and not Eddie Munson. You probably would never want Eddie.

And maybe one day–if he was still cursed to live like this, if he was stuck in this body until the end of his life–he could live with the fact that you wanted Steve.

But as his pleasure evaded him and all of the sad thoughts returned, he simply couldn’t escape the simple fact that his honey didn’t want him…she wanted someone else.

The guys had left shortly after your...interaction with Eddie.

Your confession.

The sweet kiss Steve had given you before they had left was...wonderful. But it was like the glue holding together the broken vase on that one episode of the Brady Bunch.

The feelings were building, the pressure too much, and before long...you sprung a leak and the reality of what you had done hit you. It had you shaking. Benny must have known something was wrong; he had asked you all through your closing tasks if you were alright.

"You good kid?" He asked. "Cuz I can finish up if you wanna get home. I know today's your busy day."

Truth be told, he always asked you that, but the extra edge of concern to his voice was a dead giveaway that you weren't doing a good job of holding it together.

“Nah Ben,” you smiled meekly. “I’m ok. Tired. But I’ll make it. Thanks.”

You started hyperventilating by the time you got into your car.

“Stupid, you’re so stupid,” you muttered to yourself. “How could you tell him?”

You weren’t even sure what possessed you to say anything, what compelled you to stop and say those dumb words.

You know, I had a crush on you.

What did you expect him to say...confess that he had a crush on you too?

Declare his undying love for you?

Instead he just called you a friend.

By the time you reached the 5th street intersection, you rationalized that, at the very least, you hadn’t mentioned that you still had a crush on Eddie. And as you pulled into your driveway, you were panicking again because…well what did this mean now that Steve was spending time with Eddie?

Would he say anything? God, did Steve already know?

It really was nice that Steve was hanging out with Eddie...they seemed to get along well enough. And yeah Eddie had the guys but…well, it wasn’t a stretch to say that Eddie could use as many friends on his side as he could get. He always put on a brave face but that didn’t mean he never felt lonely. Or alone. Stuck in a place he desperately didn’t want to be.

You just wanted to tell him it was ok. That he had you if he want—

"God, stop," you slammed your hands against the steering wheel as though it would force the thoughts from your brain. As though it would stop your heart from aching. "Stop thinking about him, you have to stop thinking about him."

Because the more you thought about Eddie, the more you’d want to comfort him.

And the more you wanted to comfort him, the more you’d want to hold him and kiss him.

And he’d made it plenty clear tonight that he didn’t see you as anything more than Mickey’s Kid Sister’s Silly Friend.

Or at least that’s just how it felt.

Another busybody townie who couldn’t mind their own business, who had to offer words of encouragement, who pitied him.

No. Not that. He didn't give people who pitied him the time of day. What if...

Bile rose in your throat as you came to a realization.

What if he didn’t just see you as another silly townie? What if he had known? He had known you had a crush on him all along, and he had taken pity on you. Because you were Terry's friend, he didn't want you to get hurt. And now that you were with Steve...he couldn't let you keep your hopes up anymore? You had a real boyfriend now.

That was it...

He was just...being nice to you all this time.

And that...hurt.

The realization of all that wasted time. Years spent thinking...hoping...

You made it into your house, went through the motions of getting ready for bed, and numbly said goodnight to your mom as your mind raced and raced and your heart broke even more.

It wasn't until you were tucked into bed, head filled with sad thoughts of every time you thought that maybe...just maybe Eddie liked you back, that you remembered.

Your diary.

Some silly old pink think that Terry had gotten you for your birthday years ago. You didn't write in it too often—you hadn't ever really been a diary person—certainly not recently. It was tucked into your nightstand underneath magazines and random junk from your school bag.

You sat up, turned the lamp on, and opened the drawer. You dug through the junk until you found it.

You flipped indiscriminately through pages filled with doodles and random thoughts. Until you came across entries from your freshman year at Hawkins High.

Silly things about class schedules and how mean Mrs. O'Donnell was and how you were not good in geometry.

And then...hearts and stars and flowers and one name repeated over and over and over...

Eddie Munson. Edward Munson. Mrs. Edward Munson.

You ran your fingers over the indentations your pen made in the pages as you read your own silly words.

Eddie invited us to sit with them at lunch.Terry said no, that she wanted to sit closer to the cheerleaders. Maybe they would be nicer to us if they actually knew we existed.

Eddie held open the door for me when I passed him in the hallway.

Eddie got his driver's license. He and his uncle fixed up this van and now he's driving Mickey and Terry to school. He asked if I wanted a ride too, said he would let me ride shotgun on Fridays. He's so sweet.

Eddie called me sweetheart today. I swear my heart stopped. I am dead. I have died.

Terry said she has a crush on someone but she won't tell me who it is. I really want to tell her that I have a crush on Eddie. Maybe if she knew, she could say nice things to him about me.

She likes him too. She wants him to ask her to prom. She keeps asking who my crush is and of course I can't tell her. Because he would obviously choose her over me, who am I kidding?

It's the last entry in the diary and the page is warped from old tears and scribbled over with pen.

After that day, you buried the diary in your nightstand. You kept your thoughts to yourself. Writing them down made them real and scary. Instead you let your secrets fester and grow and rot inside of your heart.

You didn't realize you'd started crying until fresh tears started hitting the already-warped page.

"Shit," you scrubbed at your eyes for a second and then stared at the journal as your throat got tight.

Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson.

His name written over and over and over again. Obsessively.

Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler.

Just like Steve had been with Nancy. Always talking about her and thinking about her.

All of your wasted feelings. From both of you.

But Steve had moved on. And so could you.

You ripped the warped page out of the diary and tore it to pieces. And then the next page. And the next one. Over and over until your thoughts and feelings were ripped to confetti on your bedspread.

No more.

It was time to move on from Eddie Munson.

Tag List:

@luna-munson83 @kaitebugg03 @invaderzia1 @delusionalbabe @secretdryrose @eddiesguitarskills @simplyundeniable98 @imaslutforcuddles @hanobe8 @josephquinncore @champagnejoker @strawberrysodaslut @fangirling-4-ever @sadbitchfangirl @rosaline-black @vxlkyrieee @aysheashea @micheledawn1975 @thora-jane @pricelessemotion @lfaewrites @hazydespair @realsuper-dark @novelnovella @jaime1110 @manda-panda-monium

[novastaree]

idk exactly why Michael would help the Winchesters most likely just to keep the world spinning cuz these guys fuck up a lot but if Sam didn't pull Michael and Adam into hell with himself and Lucifer sooooo many problems could have been avoided

i will give an example for each season

in szn 6 heaven and Raphael are trying to restart the apocalypse or wtv and maybe Michael would have been on board with that but i feel like he probably would have realized that wouldn't have brought his father back and continued with his job till he did (im not %100 but im pretty sure Rafael and Michael had different pov's for starting the Apocalypse)

also Michael would have rocked Godstiel shit or at least been able to send him to purgatory before Leviathan became a problem in szn 7

szn 8 NO WAY HE WOULD HAVE LET THE ANGLES FALL. maybe he couldn't read the tablets but I think he has enough of an understanding of enochian magic, being the first and all, to figure out 'this is going to cost us our wings' and if not that maybe even metatron would have the basic instinct on to not go against Michael (But then again also maybe not because it is metatron) Also I'm pretty sure he is next in line to be The prophets protector and he would have had his hands on the angel tablet before them anyways

szn 9 my main man Michael could have stopped that Abaddon girl without even half a glance if he wanted No need for this first blade shit.

szn 10 and i don't think Michael would let Dean take that mark cuz his brother did that once and he was an archangel and the mark lead to the devil soooo letting one of the Winchesters take would be disastrous

szn 11 somehow these idiot brothers managed to free his aunt he would have been helpful as he most likely did most of the fighting with Amara the first time (also a meeting with God after so long would have done him well, or ruined him but that depends on how you think it would go down)

szn 12 i think he could have managed to tell his brother to put a condom on. He never would have cared about the bmol he would have left that to the Winchesters shit festival

szn 13 umm hello jack!!! lets please close this portal and not get involved in alternate realities. (I probably could do better reasoning but this season was a fever dream to me)

szn 14 maybe im d riding og Michael too hard here but au Michael couldn't open a portal without stealing Lucifers grace and our Michael could Open a portal to purgatory with archangel cuffs on so im thinking new him wouldn't be a big problem. maybe once he got to Dean but before that he probably could have killed Lucifer and stopped that whole situation before it happened

szn 15 maybe with the context of the past ten years it wouldn't have ended they way it did also Michael probably would have been waayyyy more helpful to jack than the Winchesters were and helped the new god be more god than 4 who lost his powers constantly

Anyways just thinking about how Sam and Dean always made their lives harder by trying to do the right thing

[misrepresentedmorallygrey]

PROPAGANDA

The Darkling

Okay so this guy is the main bad guy of the series. He made “the fold” this barren wasteland of darkness and monsters dividing the land, causing like hundreds of thousands of people to die. He killed his mom. He psychologically manipulated his girlfriend (like, he caused her to hallucinate and a whole bunch of other crazy stuff). He made one of his followers (a young girl) use her body to slowly poison the king over time. He started a cult. He did a LOT of crazy stuff. However, we do see his backstory of him as a kid, and learn that he did all this in the name of equality, so people would stop torturing and killing the ‘grisha’ or the witches/magic users. Later, he fakes his own death and starts a cult worshipping him and acts as the leader of the cult, going by his old name Aleksander. He is a very complicated character. So tell my why everyone thirsts after him and is like “he did nothing wrong” HELLO?! He is NOT your poor little meow meow he is complies please please don’t sanitize him.

Mikoto Kayano

Mikoto is really kind and friendly, he gives people nicknames, and he tries to talk to everyone. He cares about his little sister and his mom; he doesn't want to worry anyone and will hide when he's really stressed out and try to act like everything is fine. He just laughs and hopes everything will work out. He overworks himself and thinks that he needs to keep working, even after he's already pushing himself too hard. He doesn't remember killing anyone and he's in MILGRAM because of it and he got voted to not be forgiven in the first trial which is making his stress worse.

Mikoto's characterization within the fandom is either sexy man or baby who couod never hurt a fly. Despite that in his introductory voice drama he folds a fifteen year old for several minutes abd the fact that he's now in a mystical prisoner for definitely committing murder. Like the entire premise of the series is contingent upon everyone who is in it killing a person. Mikoto has dissociative identity disorder the fandom uses this to basically go normal Mikoto the one Milgram arrested (the prison that can look into people's minds by the way) is the good one. He hates violence and I'd just a silly little office worker but the other one I'd the literal devil. An evil man who likes violence and just hates people real antisocial. The fandom is so bad at understanding moral ambiguity and dissociative identity disorder that despite his songs being called MeMe, Double, a line in the second song being literally "Just the two of us" and one of the creators puting out a statement after the seconds songs release saying "I wonder what will happen to the two Mikoto's now"- A good majority of fans have convinced themselves there is a third very normal and chill alter (because they seperate them by emotional states like this is fucking inside out for some reason) who is just a guy and consistently state Mikoto will be bad representation if there are only two. It's to the point that a good deal of the fanbase are fans of this character and not actually Mikoto. Only using his actual character for ship fodder to fuel their switch fetish. I don't know if it's not understanding moral ambiguity, just not knowing how to fucking read, or hating a minority of people simply based on how a dissociative disorder presents in them which is apparently a bias that the dissociative identity disorder community has had for a long time i.e treating people more poorly based on alter count but whatever it is I believe it's enough to qualify him for this.

[erenaeoth]

wanted to ask before tekken 8 drops, how do you feel about the recent footage and story trailer? is it anywhere near what you hoped for when we first saw the first story trailer?

Tekken 8 Demo & Kazuya

Placing this under the cut for those who don't want demo/chapter 1 spoilers.

The Chapter 1 footage I saw made me very concerned for the direction of the game. Kazuya's motivations and personality seem very different to previous games. Kazuya has always been motivated by two-fold power and revenge, and these things are deeply entwined. To get out from under Heihachi's hand, he needs strength and power, and he's devoted everything to achieving this. Last time he succeeded, he went a little off the rails, drowning in a powertrip that saw him tighten his hold on the Zaibatsu and build up its economic might with little regard for the legality of his actions.

This a world away though from the physical supremacy argument and senseless violence of his Tekken 8 motivations. Kazuya is someone shrewd and clever, he knows business, he knows power, and he knows how to maximise those. He's someone who can bide his time, plan, act from the shadows, take hits to his pride and ego if it means his long term plans come to fruition. Being 'at war with the world' is not good for business, nor does it bring him greater power - as testified to by his own line that all that matters to him is breaking apart the old world to make a new one where only those who can prove their strength deserve to live. This is a wild divurgence from Kazuya's character and M.O. thus far. This is excusable to me only if it is characteristic of Devil's corruption.

Kazuya has consistently claimed that he controls Devil and not the other way round, but we know from Jin's experiences that Devil preys on the mind, infecting thoughts and seeping into one's subconscious.

The story trailer gives me more hope in this regard. Jun, or the memory of Jun, whichever it is, tells Jin that he ought to use the power of the Kazamas to try and save Kazuya. What does Kazuya need saving from? Magic Kazama powers can't make him less of an asshole, but they could help him with Devil, a power not only making him indestructable, but also destroying the man he is. Kazuya has lines in I think Chapter 1 where he mocks Jin for losing control to Devil. He does this in Tekken 6 Scenario Campaign too. He expresses disappointment in Jin for losing his humanity to Devil. So Kazuya is convinced he's in control, but I wonder if bringing these words back in Tekken 8 indicate a focus on how actually Kazuya is also lost to Devil, and not as in control as he thinks.

I hope this is the case anyway, otherwise I'm going to be livid. Kazuya's a very lucid kind of villain. His actions have a logic to them that stems from childhood abuse and Heihachi's warped lessons. He's someone who thinks himself independent while not realising he's Heihachi's most perfect creation and legacy. What makes the Mishimas frightening isnt that they can zap into sexy devils, it's that they marry their wealth and cleverness together to seize political and economic hold of nations, and you can't even go confront them in person over it because they happen to be tough as hell martial artists. Eradicating the sense and logic of Kazuya's actions needs to be because this is Kazuya's Tekken 6. This is him losing to Devil and declaring war on the world in an echo of Jin's actions. Jin needs to see this and recognise this. I'm hoping references to Azazel in Tekken 8 come in to pattern this symmetry too.

I'm also looking forward to seeing a more full cast in Tekken 8. I hope Jin's friends in particular get a look in. I think they're very important if Tekken 8 wants to go the way of humanising him.

So at this stage, there's still a lot of potential in this story, but also a lot of ways they could really fuck it up. Very much hoping that nuance gets a place in this story. Let's wait and see.

[blu3cl0v3rs]

Badly Summarizing Njnjago

Season 2 Rewrite Edition

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPT MENTION

the sentences are surrounded by "—"

stay safe :]

"The Ninja" work mininum wage while Meow and Gandalf motorbike off into the sunset. The Devil forces the sneks to work for him, and the snek leaders don't like that, so they try to kidnap Trauma Child. Don't worry, with the magic of ✨️plot convenience✨️, Gandalf and Meow save Trauma Child, and "The Ninja" all get fired. The Devil uses magical lava goop to turn the weapons into a Big Gold Stick-Thing. "The Ninja" meet Brownie, who owns a dojo, and beats Brownie up so they can train there.

The Devil summons pirates, evil Ninja doubles, and a Grundal, and somehow still fails. What a loser. Trauma Child gets aged up with magical tea. The Devil and "The Ninja" time travel and fuck around in the past. The Big Gold Stick-Thing and god's gold weapons from the past are shot into space. For some reason.

Satan's Wife shows up. Instead of actually being a mother for Trauma Child, she's been researching the Green Ninja's destiny. Everyone slow claps for the Best Mother of the Year /s. The Serpentine commit a coup d'etat by literally shoving The Devil out of a helicopter, and Bloo Snek Leader takes over.

Satan's Wife gives a history lesson, and introduced god's greatest mistake: Evil Liquid Cat. Evil Liquid Cat is stranded on the other half of Ninjago that god broke off, which we call the Dim Landmass. Evil Liquid Cat created some indestructible warriors out of stone that we're gonna call the Rockies. Also, you remember the big boi snek that The Devil smacked on the head? Well, the author forgot to mention that it caused big boi snek to fucking explode, and the gooey green remains can animate things. Anyways, the gooey green stuff brings one of the Rockies to life that Satan's Wife found underneath the museum she works at. "The Ninja" trick it into falling into a bottomless pit.

Meanwhile, after the devil got shoved out of a 'copter, he found the Dim Landmass, and Evil Liquid Cat strikes a deal with him. The Devil unlocks a new level of Dim Landmass, now it's not mostly underwater! Satan's Wife hits on Gandalf. The author is disgusted. A bunch of the Rockies are reawakened, and the sneks get locked underground again as the Rockies wreak havoc upon Ninjago City.

—

Gandalf and Satan's Wife literally attempt suicide via jumping out a building window, but "The Ninja" go "nuh uh" and save their asses by catching them on their flying boat the author forgot about last season.

—

The boosters broke, so they sail to the Dim Landmass like how you're supposed to use a ship. Freezy's bird friend gets shot down. Demonic starfish eat some of the boat, and they crash land onto a not-lighthouse prison. SURPRISE! Freezy's dad is somehow alive, fixes their ship, and they fly away to the Dim Landmass.

Meanwhile, Evil Liquid Cat and The Devil scoop up a bunch of evil galaxy mud, and are using it to create a super weapon. "The Ninja" get caught trying to sneak in and escape, then they go there with Satan's Wife to try to get the devil's fancy new hat and escape, but not before Meow gets kidnapped and experimented on.

One dramatic hero speech later, and "The Ninja" try to defeat the devil again.

They fail. The devil gets possessed by Evil Liquid Cat, and Trauma Child gets physical trauma as well as emotional trauma! I would say baby's first traumatic experience, but Satan's Wife abandoning him and his entire time at Darkley's takes that title.

Ninjagoans(?) get turned evil, and the possessed devil and his army of Rockies go to Ninjago. Turns out the possessed devil has worse aim than the Storm Troopers and somehow manages to miss Brownie like 20 times. Then, the possessed devil decides to fuck it and uses Russian bombing tactics of "if you have shit aim, just shoot bigger ones in the general area" and launches evil mist everywhere.

The color coded dumbasses have their hero speech as the author spends way too much time looking at the sand physics, and holy shit god had a mech??? Anyways, "The Ninja" fly back to Ninjago, fight the Rockies, and get evil-possessed??? All except for Trauma Child, who unlocks God's fighting style and light beams the everloving shit out of his possessed satan father, which literally blasts the demonic purple blob AND the devil out!

Now, we're left with the world saved, a DILF, and said DILF's brother's dumbass students.

The End.

Or is it?? You'll see next time when I post Season 3!

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Day 44 of Tourdust: I'm sending this from the other side of the apocalypse that just unfolded, trying to get it across while the veil is still thin, but I can't promise it will ever reach.

One thing they don't tell you about the so called Halloween 'veil' is that apparently doesn't only divide the realm of the living and the dead, but also the integrity of the timeline. Somehow, earlier than we expected to have news of our trick or treaters at the scene, we were informed they were witnessing a show from the pre-hiatus, or rather, what would have been the pre-hiatus until The Pumpkin King From The Chicago Hardcore Scene returned, in all his sunglasses-wearing milfy glory, to once again scream lyrics onstage.

Once this event unfolded it didn't take long for ghost sightings to be reported at the Pvris retirement home. At first we thought we knew what awaited, with one of them wearing a baseball cap, the ones of us most versed in tinfoil hatmaking considering perhaps at worst they were covering their costumes with sheets.

But we soon realized he was too tall to be our dear melodramatic femme fatale's dead soulmate (again); and then there were more of them. It was soon clear that ghost tricks had been summoned to obfuscate what the pumpkin king had in store for the trick or treaters, and for all of us, attending from our dear Andy's phone.

On the palm of his hand we were standing when we saw just how high the levels of sillyness were: we were safe from those ghosts for they had been busted by a sexy sexy guitar, a crack of lightning beat in time with the drums, and undoubtedly the big bad grandmilf wolf from shrek had been responsible, in his soulmate exalting poetry, of chanting the name of a star thrice. After all this tour trying to keep a semblance of matching, it's more than earned that tonight of all nights they'd each embody a wildly different member of a wildly different group.

Usually we receive critical hits of damage around the time Patrick gets his little moment to shine. We didn't even make it to the riff this time.

Faster than Beetlejuice became just a regular eyeliner wearing spirit, our werewolf turned into this ethereal human (perhaps evocative of being lost into dreamland in his nightgown, perhaps that's owed to the fantasy land he constructed around them), more an apparition of a lost soul handing out candy to the kids rather than the implied threat of a furry posing as a grandmother trying to trick us. And as the latter started singing the ever haunting tunes of Heaven, Iowa, cameras soon panned to the spot where Pete usually sits alone, as the now wigless, armourless, but just as toned god of thunder enveloped him in a hug, capturing both of them laughing, perhaps comforting each other, certainly having fun, before Thor bolted just in time to avoid missing his cue.

We know better than to make deals with devils, i promise, we do. No matter how good they look in eye makeup. But, sometimes it IS worth making a deal with Beetlejuice to get him to play I'm Like A Lawyer for our streamer. Besides, it's not like the pumpkin king, who would use the distraction of the new and devastating "when i woke up next to you" to turn into his skeletal form, would let any marriages come of it. Well, unless it's for the bit, or you mishear him state his intentions to be engaged himself to this devil. Wouldn't be the wildest thing he's said on riff. Truly, a second riff with Patrick was the greatest treat of the night and he damn well knows it, he's always been good at knowing his subjects.

And The Magic 8 Ball has always been good at knowing when to throw us for a loop. We thought 'surely. if it's reset, that means new rules will not keep showing up.' and oh how wrong we were. 'You will cover Halloween for Halloween' it told them, not giving them more than a day to practice a song that wasn't even theirs. 'And by the way, fuck the legal system' it added, for good measure, despite the lights not being as sexy as they were last time.

By the non-encore encore the only sensible member of this ragtag group, who managed to keep his full attire was the ghostbuster, the sounds from his guitar as effective as any proton pack, as powerful as the thunderous beat Thor kept on the drums.

And so it was time to end the night of trick or treating. The skeleton's bones rattled as his hips swayed, roses clung like vines intertwined with his rib cage, and a bony elbow pressed against this demon who could have been the devil himself 12 years ago, but certainly looked happier now. In spite of it all, it was Saturday again.