#just suck me in a fantasy world pls

[revyn-moonfox]

Trying to drive on vacation with my youth-living-groupproject (don't know the proper englisch name, but in german it's Jugend-WG. Anyway...)

First, the train comes 1,5 hours to late. Then they tell us that all seat-reservations are cancelled because they have one Wagon less than planned. Also the AC is broken and it's 30°C

Also I got yelled at by a man who didn't want to accept that his reservation was cancelled, as if I had anything to do with that?! The audacity...

I'm having a great time /sarc

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni. Buckys innocent neighbor who bakes him cookies and muffins just cause. The girl next door who has the coziest apartment he's ever been in. Shelves filled with books along with plenty of comfy blankets decorating the couches. Bucky has his own place right across but home is with her (even if she doesn't know it yet).

She's the type of girl he's going to take his time with, asking her out on a date, just coffee and a walk in the park. Nothing more than a kiss on her cheek at the end of the night. Another date. Dinner. Another kiss to her other cheek. He wouldn't dare rush anything, especially not someone as soft and sweet as her.

He feels like such a dirty little pervert when he thinks about her afterwards when he's alone in bed, all the blood in his body rushing south, and fuck he's so hard. He tries to ignore it, he didn't want to do something so debauched by thinking of her like that, he even tries to think about his grocery list, laundry, he'd probably wash his arm later, it would probably be fine in the dishwasher-

Nothing worked.

He groans, shuffling and kicking his sweats off, hissing when his hand goes down to tug at his aching cock, relief flooding his veins at the sensation. He lets his mind wander to how adorable she'd be, the way he'd take her apart in the most gentle way. Lay her against the pillows while he holds those soft thighs apart, giving her the most feather light suckles on that perfect clit, basking in all the sounds she'd make. He strokes himself faster thinking about the way he'd get her ready to take all of him. How he'd make it so good for her-shit he was going to blow-maybe if he was lucky, one day she'd let him put his cock in her mou-

"Fuck!!" Bucky threw his head back, spurts of cum shooting from his sensitive head, his post orgasm haze leaving him feeling like a filthy old man. She were here making him baked treats and he was jerking his dick off like a sick fuck.

Then the night finally comes. Bucky is ready to cuddle and nothing else but he's thrown off because never in his wildest fantasies did he expect this.

She is the girl who sends him reeling the first time he takes her clothes off one by one revealing dark ink on her back and hips. He has to suppress a growl, his eyes growing wide at the scantily clad lace that covers her body.

"Like what you see, Sergeant?" she practically purrs in his ear while he lets his han ghost over her bare skin, his chest heaving when his eyes fall to her perfect breasts, hints of silver peeking from under her lingerie, there was no way-

"Can I?" He asks breathlessly, his hand reaching behind to unclasp the bra, those pretty pierced nipples begging to be sucked.

Bucky who turns into a fucking menace, his entire world flipping upside down when she grinds down on his crotch not hiding exactly what she needs from him. He doesn't even have the ability to hide how feral he is, letting all his inhibitions slip.

-

"My little bunny's a slut, fuck, c'mere" He grabs you and tosses you over his shoulder, hauling you over to his bedroom like an untamed beast, tossing you onto his bed with no remorse. You're in nothing but your panties which he rips right off, your thighs squeezing together at the way he stalks over to you, his hungry eyes raking up and down your body without an ounce of shame. He tugs his sweats down to reveal his leaky cock, stroking it at the edge of his bed after tossing his shirt off.

"See this baby? Been fuckin' stroking and touching myself like a fuckin' teenager because of you-" He throws off his pants before climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your thighs, spreading them apart with his knees, "-and you've been here lookin' like God damn sin under those cute little sweaters"

He flicks his cockhead against your clit, humming at the clear beads of his arousal that drip onto your cunt.

"Fuck James, need more, pl-"

"Nuh uh, what was that you called me earlier, sweets?" He lets out a dark chuckle, the veins in his cock throbbing as he tightly holds the base, waiting to hear it again.

"Sergeant" you whine with mischief in your eyes and Bucky is a goner. He'll taste you later and most definitely feed you his cock another day but right now he wants to be nowhere else other than your pussy. He wants to watch you take every bit of him, rolling over to lay on his back while you straddle him, his length slotted against your cunt. He holds it up for you with a cocky look on his face, moaning when his tip breeches your tight pussy, your walls gripping his swollen, pink head.

"That's just the tip baby, c'mon, sit on it, wanna put all of my dick in you, that's it, good girl-shittt"

"Oh fuccckk,s'big" You moan feeling the stretch as you sink all the way down, panting and staying still while you adjust to his size.

"That's it bunny, that's it, ride me, ride your Sergeant" He grabs you by the hips, guiding you to grind down on him, making you feel his entire cock in your stomach. "You're a slut for big dick aren't you baby, acting all cute and shy when all you really wanted was the winter soldier's cock"

Bucky wasn't even sure where all the filth spewing from his mouth was even coming from but he couldn't stop.

"S'that it bunny? Say it baby, tell me how much you wanted my fat cock in you"

"Wanted it! F-cuk Sergeant, wanted your cock s-o-so bad!!"

"Fuck yes!!" His feet plant to meet your bounces, his hips thrusting up, slamming his entire length into you. "M'close, fuck bunny, gonna cum already, I can't hold it-

He doesn't have time to be embarrassed. You feel to good. He rubs your clit needing you to cum all over him so he can let go.

"Please, cum all over Sergeants cock baby, give it to me, be a good girl n'cum, c'mon, cum on my dick, yes, oh fuck yes I can feel it-milk it, shit touch my balls-"

You nearly collapse as your orgasm starts to wash over you, his sponge head hitting the most sensitive parts against your walls while he toys with your clit. His voice is muffled as you start to feel waves of pleasure consume you but you head just enough to reach behind, rubbing his heavy, so full of cum ba-

"FUUUCCCCKKK" He grabs you and wraps his arms around your body while he relentlessly thrusts up, biting down on your shoulder while he lets out the sluttiest, loudest moan with 0 remorse. It feels too good and he's sure the neighbors can hear but honestly, everyone should know how amazing it feels.

-

"I got you pretty baby" Bucky coos as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, a shiver running through you while you float in bliss. Bucky pulls the covers up, deciding to cuddle up with you for a bit before running a shower, his previous demeanor replaced with the far less debauched version of him.

Anyway, just an idea. Also, it's past my bedtime.

[notyourhetloki]

Ken's NSFW Alphabet

Reader: gender neutral

/NSFW Ken x Reader/

A/N: You know what? I ALWAYS wanted to make one of these... I literally have no excuse for it I just need him carnally ok pls don't judge me NSFW Alphabet originally found here.

Warnings: this Ken has genitals lol, top!Ken, lots of sex talk, no images just text, very explicit!

—

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

I think Ken would be a very caring lover, making sure you had everything you needed and that includes aftercare! He would draw a trail of kisses down your body to your legs, massaging them while asking if you're ok, then would take you in his arms and keep you there for all the time you needed. Ken would even clean you up if necessary, joining you in a nice shower, combing your hair... Yeah, he's the KING of aftercare!

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I think Ken really like his arms, they're amazing to show off his muscles and strength and even better for carrying you around!

And his favorite part about you is definitely your beautiful face! But most especially, your lips. Ken loves when you kiss him all over his body, it never fails to make him shiver.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically...)

Well, because he's a doll, I don't believe there would be a risk of diseases or pregnancy (particularly if you live in Barbieland/are a doll as well) so… yeah he would cum inside you pretty much every time. The feeling of you around him while he cums is intoxicating enough, but he would make exceptions for when you asked him to cum over your face… that vision was also fantastic.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ken has a very big fantasy of fucking you while he wears his mink, or seeing you suck him off while he wears it… anyway, he wants to wear the mink!! But he feels a little silly about it…

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Before you, I don't think he had any experience, really. He knew about sex from the media he consumed (he even read a few books on it, out of curiosity) but sex was not really a priority especially in Barbieland. That is until he visited the Real World and you showed up...

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

Cowgirl/boy. Ken loves to have you on top, seeing you bounce on top of him while he grabs your waist is SUCH a turn-on. And that way you also could control the pace... yeah, he adores it.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

It depends... are you making love after a whole day spent together? Yeah, he could be goofy, wanting to see you laugh at every opportunity he can. But are you fucking after spending the day apart, needy and desperate? No time for joking around.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He's a doll so I'm pretty sure he's just shaved down there... nothing really to be worried about!

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

Ken is so needy... so needy he would embrace you during the whole thing if he could. He's the type of guy who says "I love you" during sex, and he's ok with it! As long as you say it back... and you always say it back.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Masturbating was not really a thing dolls did, but he would do it occasionally out of curiosity. And after you came around, he couldn't help himself a few times... humping a pillow before sleep and dreaming about your body. Yeah, he masturbated quite a lot then, thinking about you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

PRAISE KINK this one's obvious… the guy could nut only from being praised if you took the time to do it. If you praise him during sex while looking him in the eyes, oh… his cock immediately twitches in anticipation. It's adorable, actually.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Because he's very jealous and protective of you, he only does it inside of your house (or his mojo dojo casa house) somewhere no one can see you, so yeah… not very adventurous in that aspect.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Besides the praise, just... being your boyfriend. Matching clothes with you, holding your hand... kissing you immediately turns him on, and being called names like "baby", "love", "blondie" makes him go wild. He just loves the attention and of course, loves when you're turned on as well.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

I don't think Ken would enjoy rougher sex... don't get me wrong, he can definitely pick up a fast pace from time to time, but... ROUGH as in, slapping you, calling you names... nuh-uh, he don't likey. He hates the possibility of hurting you in any way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Ken honestly doesn't have a preference. He loooves eating you out/sucking you off and the praise that comes with it, making sure you finish so he can taste you. But oh, there's something just as endearing in the wet sounds you make while sucking him, the feeling of your lips tightly around his dick... oof! He loves both ways!

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

At the very first time you had sex I think Ken would be slow and not really in rhythm, so overwhelmed by the sensation of being with you… So you'd have to take control and guide him. He would eventually get the hang of it, and the more confident he became, the faster he went. So yeah, when he's feeling sentimental he goes slow, taking his time with you. But if he's feeling confident, he likes to show off and fuck you raw.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He's pretty neutral about quickies, I mean... Ken likes taking his sweet time with you, but if you're both feeling naughty and there's not really much time, he would definitely go for it!

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Hmm, I would say he's not really into taking risks. Ken probably waits for you to suggest something before he suggests it himself. He doesn't want to scare you off or anything like that.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

Baby, he's a DOLL... He can go as many times as you desire! LOL But oh, on the first few times you had sex, he didn't last very long... he was too overwhelmed but soon he felt better! Now he lasts a reaaally long time.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not sure if there are sex toys in Barbieland, but if yes, sure! He would definitely have a vibrator to use on you. Anything that helps you cum is a treasured tool for him, because getting you to cum is his top priority during sex!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Besides lasting for an absurd amount of time, he loooves to tease as well. Kissing and softly biting on your skin before slowly going down on you, looking up at you with puppy eyes while humming and moving his tongue around your sex... yeah, he's a tease.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Fuck, Ken's loud. He learned to tone it down a bit by muffling his sounds with his hand, but he continues to be a loud moaner. He whines and groans a lot, too... calling your name while being super vocal. "Oh, my... yes. Yes, (Y/N). Please don't stop, ah..."

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Ken still gets emotional every time you make love, holding your face while kissing you deeply, your bodies moving in tandem feeling so good he could cry. He probably did cry the first time, but now he holds back trying to not seem too sappy.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants.)

I MEAN... hear me out. I think he's pretty damn hot, like... maybe around 7 inches? And like, girthy as well LOL He's a dooooll he has to have a pretty perfect dick, right??? (don't look at me)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Again, not really high before you came around. Now he thinks about sex all the time, looking for excuses to be alone with you and get his hands all over your body. 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Ken would make sure you were fine (and had finished), do some aftercare if needed and then he would fall asleep rather quickly, rolling over into a little spoon so you could hold him. In your arms, he feels safe and sound.

—

[harmonictechnicality]

model!steve and voice actor!Eddie (part 3)

part 1 here | part 2 here | ao3 link here | the temp is up on this one so like... dni if under 18 pls

Eddie is a superstitious person, always has been. Avoids cracks in the sidewalk, refuses to walk under ladders. Says ‘bless you’ despite his lack of goddamn faith (well… scratch the god, keep the damn). That’s why, when Eddie wakes up at 11:11 that morning, he takes it as a sign. A good one too.

Okay yeah, it’s a little gross that he didn’t wake up until now. But he spent most of the night tossing and turning. A thirstfest visual loop of Steve Harrington jerking it to him. Or just his voice. Maybe both, but Eddie would be a conceited fuck if he were to ask for clarity on Steve’s preferred fantasies.

Look, he makes a lot of digs about his appearance because it’s harmless fun. In reality, Eddie is aware that he’s not an un-attractive person. Could he put a little more effort into his skincare routine so that it doesn’t peel off of him anytime he’s in direct sunlight? Sure. But his features are decent enough to get him matches on that dating app he used for exactly four days before deleting. 

Steve, though… Steve is something conjured up by a young adult novelist - creating the dreamiest boytoy for the angsty yet endearing protagonist. Steve is that. He’s something from a fictional world of hotness. And somehow, he exists beyond coffee-stained manuscripts and bestseller lists.

He’s real. And Eddie Munson has a fucking date with him in exactly eight hours.

Holy shit.

It takes two hours for Eddie to decide on an outfit. He facetimes his audio engineer/closest friend after the first hour, because his room is starting to look like an M. Night Shyamalan adaptation of Grey Gardens. 

“Show me the jean options again.” Chrissy’s tone is all business, staring intently on the other side of the phone screen. 

They met at an escape room right outside of the city. After setting a record-breaking time at that location, they got to chatting and quickly discovered they were both in the audio production business. 

Each of them lives the freelance lifestyle now. Highly ideal for their competitive escape room fixation.

Eddie holds up the three pairs of jeans. One pair is his favorite, well-worn and loose around his thighs, just how he likes them. The other two, are pairs that Chrissy bought for him last Christmas.

Lets just say… he only wears those when she’s offering to pay for dinner on their weekly hangouts. 

She hums for a while, twisting her mouth side to side before speaking again. “The dark blue with the gray crew neck. Final answer.”

“These?” Eddie holds the skinny jeans up to his hip bones. He tugs on the waistband to show how very little movement will be possible in these pants. “My dick cannot breathe in these, Chris. It’s like you want me to embarrass myself on this date.”

“I’m doing you a favor.” She shrugs, concealing a smirk behind her water bottle as she takes a sip. “Those pants are so snug, he’ll have no choice but to get you out of them as soon as possible.”

“Are you insinuating that I put out on the first date?

“Absolutely not.”

“Good.”

“I’m insinuating you put it in on the first date.”

“How dare you.” Eddie points at his phone screen. Sucks in his laughter because yeah. Props. That was a good one. He can’t admit that though because no part of him wants to wear these boa constrictor jeans.

“You were just telling me how you fucked him with your words last night.”

“Fair. But I also explained that I was clearly possessed by the spirit of Blanche Devereaux.” Eddie slips out of his lounge tee, pulls over the one Chrissy picked out for him instead. “I swear, that woman had quite the knack for dirty lingo.”

Chrissy rolls her eyes and gives Eddie a halfhearted salute. “And that’s my exit cue.”

“What? Why?”

“Because anytime you bring up Golden Girls, we start arguing over who would play them in the gender-swapped remake.”

Wrong. Totally false. There’s absolutely no argument to be had. Eddie knows exactly who he’d cast right off the top of his head. Joe Pesci, Michael Caine…

Chrissy must see the gears turning in Eddie’s head because she hangs up before he can launch into his well-rehearsed presentation. Which isn’t a joke, he has a PowerPoint on this particular topic (with cited sources and fancy transitions).

Eddie does one last glance in the mirror before heading out. The pants make his waist look slender, nice. His skin is being squeezed in too many areas, but that’s kind of the point. At least the shirt is loose, albeit a little short. Reveals a patch of his lower tattoos every time he lifts his shoulders.

Okay damn, Chrissy probably knew that too. Maybe she’s the one possessed by the horny spirit of Blanche Devereaux. 

Spiritual possession or not, Eddie ruffles out his bangs one last time. Heads out feeling much more confident than he did after his initial interaction with Steve Harrington.

Eddie agrees to pick Steve up at his last photoshoot of the day. It’s close to his side of town, which means he doesn’t have to fight his way through LA traffic. 

A good sign sent from his lucky wake-up time, no doubt.

He doesn’t expect the photoshoot to be at an amphitheater, but it is. A small one, probably only used for local productions. There’re cameras lining the outer rim of the stage, shuttering and flashing like headlights on a highway. Eddie can hear the director and photographers spewing directions from his car. There’s an audience of producers and crew members, seems like a big fucking deal by the looks of it.

The set is, well, breathtaking - way better than that knockoff fantasy shit from the cologne ad. It’s full of greenery. Trees swaying with the breeze and ivy carpeting the stage floor. A forest that’s almost too beautiful to be synthetic. Eddie wonders if any of the plants are real or if the props department was just that damn good at finding fake ones.

After a few minutes, he checks the time. The shoot is running long. No biggie - Eddie is enjoying the view anyways. Especially, when he finally spots Steve. The view is exceptionally priceless now.

Steve perched on top of a tree trunk, feeding some other model grapes. The dark and stupidly jealous part of Eddie hopes they choke on those grapes. 

His costume almost blends in with the backdrop, dark hues of green. Subtle shades of browns. Perfectly camouflaged by nature. There are vines wrapped around his bare arms, leaves tucked into his tousled hair. 

Honestly, he looks a lot like a wood nymph that Eddie would selfishly design for a DnD campaign. Better, actually. Eddie should take notes. Steal the designer's sketches when nobody's looking.

He’s positively itching to get out of his car, get a closer look at Steve in all his botanical glory. But that might come across as too impatient. Or worse, too presumptuous. So Eddie picks one of his lengthier playlists and settles into his seat.

There’s a tap on Eddie’s window, startling him out of his nap. He must’ve dozed off about twenty minutes ago because the last song he remembers listening to was from the mid-90s section of the playlist. Now, they’ve moved into early 2000s territory.

Seriously, math is way easier when music is leading the equation.

Steve is right there, peering in, still tapping incessantly. His eyes are wide, concerned maybe. Which, yeah. Concern makes sense, considering his date is yawning before the date has even started. Fucking yikes.

Eddie rolls down the window, gives Steve a toothy grin as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. “Heya, FernGully.”

Steve doesn’t acknowledge Eddie’s costuming reference. Probably missed out on that era of cult classic cartoons. “Up late?” He leans against the car and smiles, far more dazzling than the sun setting behind him.

“You would know.”

Oh, and that earns Eddie a wink from Steve. The nun-converting wink he saw months ago and still thinks about.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve reaches into the empty space, pushes the latch down to unlock the front door. “Come on.”

“Uh-”

“I’ve gotta change before we head out.” Steve swings the door open before Eddie can protest.  “Unless you want to have dinner with me dressed like this.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

If there were a Renaissance Festival in town or a Medieval Dinner Show still in business, Eddie would definitely trick his way into getting Steve to go dressed like that. But he tucks the idea away for now, walks down the hill with Steve to the amphitheater. Does his best impression of a civilized human.

“So… what are you supposed to be exactly?”

Steve points to the body glitter on his cheeks. “A fairy.”

Yup. A new file of woodland fantasies starring Steve Fairyington have downloaded into Eddie’s mind. If voice acting didn’t pay so well, he could make an impressive career out of his whimsical porn concepts.

So he deflects. Humor is the only solution to keep the conversation PG-rated. “Just because you’re into guys doesn’t mean you’ve gotta use outdated terms like that.”

“You know what I mean.” Steve knocks an elbow into Eddie’s arm. “I’m a literal fairy.”

“Are you implying that literal fairies exist?” Eddie teases.

“No.”

“Seems like it.”

“Jesus, you’re a piece of work.”

“I can tone it down.”

Steve stops walking, places a hand in the center of Eddie’s chest to stop him too. His playful energy fucking warps into something new. Savory and seductive. Bewitching.

“Don’t even think about it.” He answers, slipping his hand down a little, almost between Eddie’s ribs. The motion sends static through Eddie’s core, up his spine. Raises the hairs on his arm and the back of his neck.

It shouldn’t be alarming that Steve’s touch is powerful. Look at him. 

Eddie has a hard time focusing on the conversation after that. Luckily, the timing works out for him to get his shit together, as Steve heads into the trailer that's parked next to the stage.

He tells Eddie he can take a closer look at the set that he suddenly can’t seem to shut up about. It really is stunning. The size, the details, the color choices. Eddie is fairly certain this is the closest he’ll ever be to experiencing Endor in real life.

Most of the crew members are gone, a few still packing up equipment while Eddie observes a variety of plants used for decorating the wooden platforms. Learns that some plants are real and some are fake, which is actually genius. The mixture of the two distract from the plastic-y finish on some of the vines.

“This is for a special-edition cover of some Shakespeare script.” Steve says, joining Eddie at his side. His outfit is rather colorful. It checks out that he's one of the few people that can pull off a purposeful athleisure aesthetic (Eddie hates that he knows what that style looks like, ugh). “Hence the fairies and forests and shit.”

“Wait.” A lightbulb goes off in Eddie’s head. “Is this for A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

“That’s the one.”

Eddie does a sharp turn, starts shaking Steve by his shoulders. Absolutely bursting with excitement. “Steve literal fairy Harrington, this is ridiculously cool! Like… the history-making kind of cool!”

“If you say so.” Steve agrees calmly.

“How the hell are you not more jazzed about this?”

“You sound just like my manager.” Steve mumbles. “Truth be told, the only Shakespeare play I’ve ever read is Macbeth.”

Eddie gasps, sucks in enough air to fill an inflatable kiddie pool. “We’re on a stage, you can’t just blurt out the Scottish Play like that.”

This is not good. Horrible, even. Not a damn chance that Eddie can be mellow about this. Superstitious person, believer of traditions, blah blah blah. 

And while hiding that piece of his personality should be a simple task, he cannot blatantly ignore such a major fuckup on Steve’s part. No matter how accidental of a fuckup it might have been.

“Okay, what are you talking about?” Steve asks. Still calm. 

“It’s bad luck.” Eddie explains. “The closest thing to cursing a theatrical production.”

“Well, good thing this isn’t a theatrical production then.”

And as Steve laughs off the thoughtless joke, a loud thud is heard at the back of the stage. 

There it is. A warning of impending doom in the form of a loose stage light, hanging by a few loose wires. 

Almost everyone is gone, only two crew members remain on the sidelines. One of them gets on their walkie talkie, mumbles something about a safety hazard incident.

Pfft, not just an incident. A fucking threat from the ghost of theater, that’s what it is.

“See?” Eddie waves both arms at the light structure swinging upstage. “You’ve pissed off Thespis with your loose lips.”

“Who?”

“Oh my god, you’re so-” 

A high-pitched scream cries out from a nearby street. Both Steve and Eddie jump at the sound. It’s a long, frightening scream. Something straight out of a slasher film, which is a likely possibility, for sure. Things are filmed out on the streets of Los Angeles quite a bit.

But the fear ringing out from this particular scream sounds real. Gritty and hoarse.

Fucking terrifying. 

Once the screaming stops, no sign of returning, they share a look. It’s not an ‘I’m gonna jump your bones’ look either. It’s awkward. A fine line between guilt and ‘I told you so.’

“That was just a coincidence.” Steve waves off the scream like it’s just a daily occurrence. Nothing out of the ordinary. “Curses aren’t real.”

Eddie doesn’t want to shout ‘you’re wrong’ from his metaphorical megaphone. Not on a first date, at least. Outright dogmatic behavior shouldn’t come into play until like… the end of the third date.

All he can do is shrug, swallow back the urge to correct this beautiful person standing beside him.

He’s so rigid now, almost timid from the lingering anxiety that more freaky shit is about to happen. 

“Come here.” Steve motions his head to the side, peering softly at Eddie’s expression. His shoulders are relaxed, arms reaching out for Eddie to follow. Join him.

Which he does. Can’t help it. Fully dazed by Steve’s patience, legs moving without a chance to reconsider.

“Wanna get out of here?” Steve thumbs over Eddie’s cheek, skims his nail against the scratchy bits of stubble along Eddie’s jaw. His movements are slow, precise. Only a smidge of pity in his smile. 

Yup. That’s what this must be - Steve probably thinks Eddie is being dramatic. Must assume he can smooth over Eddie’s knotted nerves by just touching him. Tracing hypnotic patterns over his skin.

Eddie is mildly irritated that it’s working. If he can’t find the strength to look away from Steve’s sunny-tinted eyes soon, he’ll float away. Slip through the air as particles. Dust. Nothing but his slutty wishes will remain.

“Not yet.” Eddie gulps.

“No?”

He can’t in good conscience let this theater stay plagued by Steve’s words. This place is on verge of being the location for a Final Destination sequel.

So Eddie removes Steve's hand from his face, squeezes once before returning it back to Steve’s side. “Gotta reverse the fuck out this bad omen first.”

“There’s no such thing as-”

“Don’t.” He pleads. “Put my superstitious mind at ease. Can you do that for me?”

Steve at least has the decency to look away while he rolls his eyes. Pretty and considerate. “Fine. How do I break the curse?”

Eddie has spent enough time in theaters to know there’s a few variations on this process. Changes from director to director. The most common one is going outside and spinning in a circle three times, then knocking on the door till someone lets you back inside.

But that’s where the problem comes in. They’re already outside and there’s no door to knock on, while pleading for forgiveness.

Hmm…

It’s a good thing Eddie remembers a few adjustments to the protocol. It’s an even better thing that he was captain of his improv troupe for three years back in college. Thinking of solutions on the spur of the moment? Adapting for the sake of the scene? Eddie lives for that shit. Comedy fucking chameleon, that’s him.

And what’s better than all of that? His leftover luck from waking up at 11:11am.

Guess it pays off to be a superstitious person. Sometimes.

Eddie clears his throat, delivers the instructions with a southern drawl. Fucks around with it because he can. “So first, you have to walk around the theater three times.”

“Okay.”

“Backwards.” That’s definitely not part of the procedure, but oh well. Steve doesn’t have to know that.

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fuck that.”

“Sorry. I don’t make the rules, gorgeous.”

Except he does make the rules. Currently having way too much fun watching Steve squirm at the stupidity of it all. He’s quickly learning how easy it is to push Steve’s buttons. That shouldn’t be so thrilling for him but whoops. It is.

“Whatever.” Steve kicks a piece of gravel off the stage and sighs. “Then what?”

So he wants more? Eddie can do that. “You have spit on the ground to show your remorse.” 

“This is a bunch of shit.”

“I said spit, not shit.” Eddie leans into Steve’s ear, uses his studio voice, watches as Steve turns pink all over. He lowers the volume down to a whisper. “Try to keep up.”

“Asshole.” But there’s a grin plastered all over Steve’s face as he grumbles. Eddie’s chest is fizzing, total carbonated joy inside him knowing that Steve is a vicious little monster, just like him.

He shoos Steve off to complete the reversal process. Sits on the edge of the stage, legs dangling over the rim, fingers fidgeting with a thread on his jeans.

He’s so smug, watching the prettiest boy on the planet become the grumpiest goofball. Steve might look like an angel, but he has the aura of a full-bred Pomeranian left in the rain.

“I’m making a new rule!” Steve shouts from the back of the theater. 

“How ambitious of you!”

Eddie swears he can hear Steve growling in response, which fuck, that shouldn’t be such an adorably hot combo. But Eddie pictures the curve of Steve’s upper lip as he snarls and the zigzag of his arched eyebrows, and that’s exactly what it is. Hot. Adorable. Sensational.

Steve Harrington is a game of Mad Libs. Every adjective, every word that invokes head rushes and heart flutters, they’re all about him.

“As I was saying before you rudely mocked me,” Steve is in Eddie’s peripherals now, still stepping backwards. Toe to heel, hands loosely in his pants pockets. Not fair that he can make walking backwards look slick and cool. The nerve, the gall. “My new rule is that I get to ask you a question each time I get to the front.”

Eddie pulls one knee up to his chest, lets his chin rest over top of it. “Well then... ask away, o’ cursed one.”

Steve stops at the front of the stage. He doesn’t turn all the way around or start walking forward again. He turns just enough to look at Eddie. Focusing on him.

The sudden attention to Eddie’s face gets him all stuffy. He tries to hide the color that’s surely settled on his cheeks by digging one side of his face into his kneecap. It’s a dopey move. Too bashful, even for him.

“Alright.” Steve says. “How do you know so much about theater?”

An easy question with an easy answer. Relief surges through Eddie. “Most voice actors start out as stage actors. Not always, but a lot of us do. Gotta start somewhere, ya know?”

“Yeah. I know.” Steve nods, and continues with his second lap.

Once his footsteps are far away enough for Eddie to think properly, it dawns on him - they’re getting to know each other. Like authentic people would do.

Like… an actual date.

Shit, it’s been so long since someone in this artificial fucktown has wanted to know things about Eddie beyond hookups and screenames. A genuine moment was right in front of him, and he almost missed it.

That sobers him up. Eddie shoves away his need to Cause Chaos and accepts the sincerity. Gives it right back to Steve. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“How did the modeling gig start?”

“Agents found my instagram again.” Steve replies. “Liked my pictures enough to offer me some shitty jobs to build up my resume. The usual story these days.”

“Right.” 

Eddie can’t fathom being that attractive. So attractive that people seek him out. 

Different worlds is an understatement. Different realms is more like it.

“Next question.” Steve says, arriving to the front again. “Would you rather visit the beach or the mountains?”

Eddie has to think about that one for a minute. He doesn’t take many vacations, can’t afford to on a single artist’s income.

But he remembers a trip to Colorado that he took as a teenager. Vaguely recalls not appreciating any of the landscapes because he was too busy texting his new girlfriend during the whole damn trip.

“The mountains.” Eddie answers, just as Steve begins to walk again. “The Rockies and I have some… unfinished business, if you will.”

Steve chuckles. “Sounds like there’s a story behind that.”

“Definitely.”

“Maybe I’ll get to hear it sometime.”

“If you want.” Eddie says, beaming at the implication. 

Steve’s footsteps stop. “Like I said on the phone, Eddie. Hearing you talk is...” The Earth feels silent. But the tension in Eddie’s ears is audible. “Well… I'm into it, I guess.”

Eddie has to switch knees to ease the thump in his dick. “And is Steve Harrington a mountain man or a beach bum?” 

“Depends on the season.”

“Such a diplomatic answer.” Such a vague answer too, Eddie thinks. 

“Okay. Last question.” Steve arrives at the front, shorter of breath than he was the first two laps. He hesitates for a second, then takes a couple of steps towards Eddie. “All those tattoos you have… did getting them done hurt?”

“Like a bitch.” Eddie bunches up his shirt to show off the sleeve of ink he has on his left arm. Took years for it to look this intricate. This complete. He’ll never get tired of staring at it. “Why? Itching to get one or something?”

“Nah. Never got the appeal of putting yourself through hours of pain or whatever.”

“It’s all about the art. The memories. The stories.” Eddie stretches out his bent knee. Lets it drop back down, relaxing into his explanation. “All of those things stitched into designs that I get to admire every damn day for the rest of my life.”

“Art, huh?” Steve takes a few steps closer, close enough to touch.

“What can I say?” Eddie is shamelessly studying the specks in Steve’s eyes. How all the colors blend and separate the closer he gets. Can hear himself grinning as he speaks. “I’m a big fan of gazing at pretty things.”

He’s so tempted to reach out, pull Steve in. Have him straddle his waist while they taste each other for hours.

But he’s still mooning over those eyes - the ones that deserve myths and legends to be told about them for ages. Centuries. Whichever is longer.

“Um.” Steve’s voice snaps Eddie out of his spell. “So… spit?”

“Sorry what?”

“The curse.” Steve says. “I’m supposed to spit on the ground, yeah?”

“Right, yeah. Uh huh.”  Eddie rambles, still internally choking on the fact that Steve just said spit to him. In public.

Steve backs away, puts some space between them. He begins making this nasty, gravelly side with his mouth. His jaw sags slightly as he does it, the lump in his throat bobbing the whole time. 

Eddie gawks, fully unable to look away while Steve swishes the spit around. Filling one cheek, then the other. He’s getting harder with every noise, every swish.

All at once, Steve forcefully hocks the stream of spit onto the ground. It goes diagonally, lands way closer to Eddie than he was expecting. Gets some goddamn distance, which makes Eddie’s eyes roll back. He’s pretty sure he lets out a wobbly ‘fuck’ at how obscene it all looks.

Steve wanders back over, avoids stepping in the wet mess he made on the ground. He places a hand on Eddie’s knee, works his way up the rough edges of denim.

Eddie’s vision is still spotty from what he just witnessed, so he decides to talk until everything clears up. Steve is into that right? The talking bullshit?

“There’s one more step to complete this.” Eddie watches the blurry outline of Steve’s hand rubbing his thigh, slowly blinking the image into full focus.

“And what’s that?” Steve’s voice is low, eyes fixed on Eddie’s mouth.

“You gotta…” Eddie licks his lip. Places a hand over top of Steve’s. Moving where it moves. Going where it goes. Buys himself some time to get the words straightened out. “You gotta kiss the nearest sewer rat loser.”

“And if I don’t do that?” Steve leans in till their noses touch. “Then what? The curse won’t be broken?”

Eddie nods. Only able to give a thin ‘mhmm’ in reply. He wraps two fingers around Steve’s wrist, the hand that's still trailing heat along his thigh. Needs to press against the pulse there, feel it jump. Spike.

Steve is so quiet. So controlled compared to his pulse. “Can’t have that then, can we?”

His lips part, hovering over Eddie’s mouth. The kiss starts out like that. Lips treading, only meeting between breaths. Neither of them pushing for more than seconds of warm contact, brief and sweet. 

That is until Steve’s free hand starts twisting into Eddie’s shirt, tugging him along by the soft fabric. Eddie sinks forward, dives fully into the kiss. He holds his breath or maybe it just gets caught in his lungs from how good it all feels. How Steve touches him like he's captured. How Steve kisses him like he’s dessert.

Eddie can't help but smush their lips together, forcing their faces closer than faces can scientifically be. He hears the wet smack of their tongues echoing underneath the amphitheater, waking his lungs the fuck up. Lets out the weakest sigh, hopes most of the sound gets trapped between Steve’s lips. 

Oh god, his lips. They’re fuller than Eddie’s, puffier now from kissing this hard. He wants to squish them around with his fingers, push them into pout so he can suck on them. Turn them nice and red. Eddie gets his hands tangled in Steve’s hair, knots them up enough to resist the lip-squishing temptation that’s burning him up inside.

“Here.” Steve exhales, hooks one of Eddie’s legs around his waist. 

That… okay, fuck. That’s so hot, so unexpectedly assertive and right. Eddie takes the hint, wraps his other leg around Steve. The heel of his scuffed boots is digging into Steve’s ass, not too hard, but enough to earn a dirty whine out of Steve. He pushes them together, clothes rubbing back and forth, scratching loudly. Muffles their mouth noises though.

“Can we…” Eddie wants to move this elsewhere, anywhere less public. He’s so fucking selfish for that. Needs to swallow every sound Steve makes, secure every expression with a lock. Nobody else should be allowed to see Steve like this besides Eddie.

He lets one hand unravel from Steve’s hair, glides down to the collar of Steve’s tank top. He yanks the material lower, presses his lips against the new area of exposed skin. Sips and sucks over that spot, claims it like he could extract a piece of Steve’s soul if he sucks hard enough.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Steve responds, whimpering into the top of Eddie’s hair. Not entirely clear if he’s saying that out of pleasure, or agreeing with Eddie that they should relocate, but whatever. It's all too good to overthink the meaning.

Eddie unhooks his legs and kisses the deep purple mark he just made. Too fucking proud how easily the color spreads into reddish tones around the edges. 

His vision goes fuzzy again as he stands upright, has to blink away all the white specks of dizzy lust. Eddie offers a hand to Steve, but there’s no damn point for that. Steve is already hopping up onto the stage, makes it look effortless. Cool as shit.

“Follow me.” Steve grabs the crook of Eddie’s forearm, pulling him into the forested scenery.

As if there were any need for Steve to request that. Eddie Munson would follow Steve into the sketchiest alleyway of Hell, if it meant they could kiss like that some more.

They duck underneath a few tree limbs, weave through the maze of green. A few leaves get into Eddie’s mouth, but he hardly notices anything besides the dent that Steve’s fingernail is leaving in his arm. It would make the sickest crescent moon tattoo, inked and perfectly shaped. 

Damnit, Eddie’s thoughts are getting more fucked the deeper they hide. Steve slams Eddie against the trunk of a large tree. He realizes with the thud on his back that it’s plywood, not tree bark. Doesn’t care one bit if his shirt tears from the nails jutting out. Cares even less if he gets splinters from the slow grinding of their hips, hitching his shirt up further with every thrust.

“These are sexy.” Steve tugs at Eddie’s empty belt loop. Didn’t need an actual belt with how suffocating they are. “But they’ve gotta go. If that’s cool.”

“Get them the hell out of here.” Eddie is subconsciously thanking Chrissy for suggesting these stupid pants. She’ll be insufferable when he tells her about the jean's success rate. But right now? Worth it.

Anything seems worth it to have Steve popping the button out, ripping the zipper down. He’s so focused on getting these pants off that his forehead wrinkles, little beads of sweat gathering on his temples. 

Eddie can’t resist any longer, not after seeing Steve equally covered in desperation. He palms the front of Steve’s pants, wants to give him some relief for this valiant jean-removing effort.

“Steve.” Eddie huffs, brushes his lips over Steve’s ear. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this.” He bites over the skin, nibbling carefully with the tip of his teeth.

It must tickle because Steve laughs while shrugging the jeans lower, boxers going with them. 

“So tell me then.” He kisses Eddie. It’s harsh, mostly panting into his mouth. Steve sinks to the floor and looks up. “Keep talking.”

This. This goddamn view. Eddie wasn’t expecting to get a view of Steve on his knees tonight. Wasn’t expecting his head to go limp, looking up at Eddie the way he eyefucked the camera on the day they first met. 

Only difference is, Steve’s not acting - not pretending to be needy.

He just is. He’s all of those coy and sinful things, exclusively for Eddie this time.

“Spit in my hand.” Steve stretches his hand up towards Eddie’s chin - gives him those big, midnight eyes that could make dormant volcanoes erupt instantly. Defy physics, end climate change. 

Eddie doesn’t use brain cells anymore, just does what he’s told. He gathers enough spit in his mouth, then watches it trickle out. Pooling in the center of Steve’s hand. It’s gross, sure. But also, it’s the hottest thing he’s ever done. 

Gross and hot. Those sensations are fucking synonymous right now.

“Tell me, Eddie.” Steve gets his fingers around Eddie’s cock, the warm wetness makes it twitch in his hold. Apparently, no part of Eddie’s anatomy can believe this is really happening, not even his dick.

“Uh-”

“You said you’ve thought about it.”

“Lots.”

“So tell me while I get you off.”

“Oh.. god, okay.” And Eddie is good at that. Talking nonstop. Revealing all of his filthy secrets when asked so politely. He did it last night, slipped into his darker persona with ease so Steve could feel good.

But that’s just it, isn’t it? Eddie would say a flurry of fuckery for Steve Harrington’s approval. Get him to come until he shakes because Eddie wants that. Wants Steve to feel like liquid gold dripping between his fingers. Wants Steve to bend and break under his words and touch.

Talking dirty to get himself off is new territory. Eddie is a perpetual giver, loves being that way most of the time. Especially for someone as spectacular as Steve.

“Go ahead, babe.” Steve urges, licks the muscle of Eddie’s inner thigh till it tightens.

Right, he can do this. Even if he is short of breath. Eddie can be as confident as he was last night while Steve strokes him. “Thought about you since the commercial production.”

It’s a start. He bites his lip and keeps going. “All I could think about was… fuck. Opening you up. Leaving my fingerprints on your hips.”

“What else?” Steve purrs, working Eddie roughly with his spit-slick fingers. Sounds just as ruined as Eddie does.

“Wanted to fuck you in my lap.” Eddie pauses to moan, chest falling hard. He gets another glimpse of Steve’s hand on him, picking up the pace. A tempo so delicious that it shuts off Eddie’s judgment skills. His mouth running wild. “Let you ride me just like that. Use me till your legs go weak.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. His grip gets a little firmer, loosening up between strokes. Makes a fucking pattern out of it, has Eddie craving it. Needs more.

“And what if I wanted to fuck you, huh?” Steve’s question hits his ears like a whip. Cracking every nerve in Eddie’s body.

“I’d let you.” And it’s true, so very true. Eddie’s mouth is still going rogue, uttering truths like he’s on trial. Ready to testify all his desires to Steve. Sign his name on the dotted fucking line. “You could wreck me any way you want, sweetheart.”

Eddie seems to have found the secret words to Steve’s wild side. He’s taking Eddie down his throat, almost too fast. So fast that drool forms at the corners of his stretched lips, mouth gurgling already.

Eddie is swearing, not even real words half the time - just moans that sound explicit enough to get bleeped out on public access television. One hand goes over his own mouth while the other keeps combing through Steve’s hair.

It’s so damp now, sticking out erratically at the sides. Eddie curls a few strands over his thumb, watches the color drain from his finger. So demented, so good.

Steve is taking his cock so damn well, so Eddie tells him. Truly, all that he’s capable of is sex-drunk praise. Letting Steve know how gorgeous he is, how bruised his throat will be from sucking this much cock, how swollen and sore his lips look at this angle.

Eddie can’t stop because every phrase makes Steve get messier. Whining and whimpering each time he pulls off. Looking up at Eddie before taking him in again. Getting louder. Loud enough that sidewalk pedestrians definitely could hear him if they linger nearby for too long.

Eddie's knees buckle as he gets close. Doesn't have the energy to straighten back out, let alone warn Steve that he’s about to come. None of that seems to matter though. Steve nods twice, still bobbing around Eddie, like he just knows. Knows Eddie is there and is fucking willing to work him through it.

“Holy fuck, Steve.” Which yeah, Eddie gets it. Uttering someone’s name while he comes in their mouth is a little tacky and cliche. But saying it is involuntary, totally out of his control. Truthfully, Eddie relinquished all control to Steve hours ago.

Steve swallows, cleans Eddie with a few swipes of his overworked tongue like it’s nothing. No problamo. Like that’s the only way to handle the aftermath of an orgasm. In the most delightful way, or whatever musical shit Mary Poppins sings about. 

He gives the laziest, dreamiest grin as Eddie collapses down to his level. Both of them heaving, kissing with aching lungs. 

“Fucking fantastic.” Eddie whispers, brushes his knuckles over Steve’s pink-stained cheeks. Hopes his rings don’t hurt too much, absently forgetting how chunky they are.

Steve leans into the small touch. “Glad to hear it.”

“You’re fantastic.” Eddie clarifies. Means it more than any superstition he’s ever heard in his life.

He’s more than ready to get his hands all over Steve, make him come until he faints. But Steve is adamant that he’s chills with waiting. Says he actually enjoys the buildup from staying horny for hours and hours. Mentions something about that being a new discovery that he wants to explore. 

With Eddie. 

Steve fucking Harrington wants to explore new sides of himself with Eddie. That sends him reeling. Smitten and spiraling.

“Are sure?” Eddie paws at Steve’s hard-on, ready to jump in and save the day via orgasm.

“Very sure.” He lifts Eddie's hand away, snickering as he lays a quick kiss on each finger.  “I like being around you. That’s not gonna change overnight.”

“Like being around you too, Steve.” He takes Steve’s face into his hands, smushes it back and forth until Steve smiles. “Crazy about it, actually.”

The sun is low, barely any light left in the sky. But as Eddie holds Steve’s face, watching him smile, he notices that Steve is glowing. Not beaming, actually glowing. Even through the dimness of sky and the shadows formed by tree limbs, Eddie can see all of Steve’s features.

How is that possible?

They each look up and see it. Taking it in, this mysterious glow.

“Wow.” They say in unison, almost matching pitch. Matching levels of disbelief too.

Between the branches and leaves, they are tiny lights. Floating, orb-like lights. The brightness shining off of them is warm, soft on the eyes. They’re scattered high over the forested backdrop, orange and yellow hues twinkling against rich greens. 

Enchanting is the only word to describe this new addition. Incredibly and unbelievably enchanting.

“Set designer really popped off with this cover shoot, I guess.” Steve throws the theory out there, barely sounds like he believes it himself.

Eddie rubs his eyes. His voice comes out hushed, doesn’t really mean for it to but it does anyways. “Steve… those aren’t attached to anything. No strings, no wires. They’re just-”

“Floating?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Be serious, dude.”

And Eddie is. Completely serious. No jokes or snarky replies in his system right now. He points to the nearest light, then back at Steve. “You broke the curse, right?”

“Apparently.” Steve shrugs.

“So maybe Thespis is showing his forgiveness.”

“Who the hell is Thespis?” Steve pinches the skin between his eyes and groans - acting like Eddie’s hypothesis is giving him a migraine. Honestly, it might be. Wouldn’t be the first time Eddie worked someone up to the point of desperately needing tylenol.

He switches tactics, nuzzles into Steve’s shoulder with his nose. Attempts to lighten the mood with at least one joke in these trying times of bad luck and headaches. “Or he’s giving us his blessing for copulating on his holy grounds.”

The lights answer, flaring out all around them. They pulsate for a minute, maybe two, before returning back to their normal glow. Eddie tucks in a grin because Steve’s gorgeous little head looks like it’s about to detonate off of his gorgeous little body. So if he smiles right now, Steve will undoubtedly explode on this very flammable set piece.

Which would be a wicked awesome way to die. Post-orgasm, then up in flames. But alas, they have dinner reservations. It would be rude not to show up.

Really, it’s no surprise to Eddie that the ghost of theater is into partial voyeurism, signaling his approval with twinkling lights. Semi-public sex probably classifies as its own unique strand of performing art in Ancient Greece.

Or the dead dude is just into taboo stuff. 

If so, good for him. You do you, Thespis.

“Look.” Steve says, standing up. “Maybe it’s… an optical illusion.”

“Or magic.”

Steve lets out a deep sigh and offers his hand to Eddie. Pulls him up in one swift motion. Doesn’t let go of his hand afterward either. “How about we drop it and go get some dinner?”

Typically, Eddie is all about a verbal bloodbath. But Steve laces their fingers together, connects them in a way that has Eddie forgetting all about his need to be right. 

“Consider it dropped.”

The lights flicker out as they walk further away from the stage. And as they get into Eddie’s car, they go out entirely. Steve flicks on the radio, defaults to the classic rock station, which is playing “Magic” by The Cars.

“It’s a sign.” Eddie sings to the tune, poking a finger at Steve.

���Just drive, you big dork.” Steve swats him away, placing a hand on Eddie’s thigh while he drives. He turns up the volume, surprisingly knows every lyric by heart. Belts them out. Full on screams the parts he likes best.

Which Eddie totally can relate to. He wants to scream about all the parts he likes best about Steve. About their date that’s not even finished yet.

On their way to dinner, Eddie avoids the cracks on the sidewalk. On the drive home, he taps the roof of his car whenever he makes it through a yellow light at an intersection.

And when he drops Steve off at his apartment precisely at 11:11pm, he doesn’t say a damn word. Keeps his mouth shut, only opens it to kiss Steve goodbye (with tongue, obviously).

Sure, it’s just a dumb superstition, Eddie can admit that to himself.

But tonight… it feels like more than that.

More than a coincidence.

More than a good omen.

He sends a ‘got home safely’ text to Steve as he pulls into his designated parking spot. Totally obsessed with how fast Steve texts him back, it’s too fucking cute.

Steve: glad :) had a great time btw

Eddie: really?

Steve: yes *really*

Eddie: i had a great time too

He quickly taps the voice-record button before Steve can respond:

“Actually,” Eddie sneers. Uses the voice that Steve goes crazy for. “I had a magical time.”

Steve: ugh

Eddie: ;)

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Aight here’s a few of my favorite SP fics that no one asked for

I’m generally more of a one shot kinda lad but since getting into South Park I’ve read SO MANY GREAT longer ones so here’s just some highlights: (all on ao3)

Ship In A Bottle FayOfTheForest. One of the first sp AU’s I read, we got PIRATES. HOMOEROTIC SWORD FIGHTING. WLW CREEK. SLOW BURN STYLE. (Injured stan my beloved) KENNY. BUNNY. The parents SUCK. Literally such a kickass story!

This House of Mine by OrcaTimes. VIOLENCE. GANG ACTIVITY. CREEK. I really love the characterization of everyone in this fic, especially Craig. Seriously man. Also THE K2 IN THIS SLAYS (we got some PRIME Kyle injury too god I love him) THE ENDING IS SO SATISFYING TOO!!!

Peppermint by boxwinebaddie. Bro. Literally my all time favorite style fic. I’m so serious. The writing and story are BEAUTIFUL LIKE SO FUCKING AMAZING The PINING. THE HEADCANONS. I COULD GO ON FOR HOURS. Pls if you check out any of my Recs READ THIS ONE.

Maybe For Real This Time & The Kids Are Alright by WeirdBBQDad. Dude. I have no words other than KENNY FUCKIN MCCORMICK. Also Style. Also families. Just- just check it out.

Hang ‘Em High by littledeathsinmusicalbeds. Cowboy au. Creek. Established Style. Bounty hunter Kenny. Massive slay.

The Thief Trilogy by wintergrew. WHEN I SAY IT LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREE. The world building is PHENOMENAL literally my favorite SOT AU OF ALL. Long as hell, but SO worth the read holy fuck. I adore Stick Of Truth.

You’re The Prettiest Boy I’ve Ever Seen by burnt_pancakes. CREEK. STYLE. MISCOMMUNICATION. BUNNY. KENNY IN GENERAL. the friendships in this are PERFECT.

Your name written upon mine by sooduhnim. SOT STYLE. Soulmate au that’s INCREDIBLE seriously I love this one and can’t wait for an update.

How We Began by PastorCraigEnjoyer. Ok yes I’m cringy as shit for the self promo but this is my favorite long fic that I’ve written. Slow burn SOT STYLE, no war just fantasy gays falling in love, injury, sickfic, all my favorite bullshit and I loved writing it ok.

N1SM by kiritila. A classic in the fandom. Style. A masterpiece.

Between the Sinners and the Saints by KaiterTot. Oh. My. God. When I say this one altered my brain chemistry… THE ENDING DUDE HOLY-

A Few Last Wolves by Jwink85. Yes, I am a resident of the State Of Style by way of Creek Nation but this is Cryle. And it’s a slay. If y’all liked Frank and Bills episode in TLOU, it’s kind of an au of that. It works man.

Winter Butterfly ALSO by Jwink85 and ALSO Cryle. What can I say it’s incredible. The Style in the beginning is CUTE until shit hits the fan, too, and I thought this fic was a really interesting take on all the characters and relationships. I adore Tweek in this one too.

Something Sweet Like Honey by bluebryy. Ok this one is unsettling and creepy Craig makes me feel icky but I cannot WAIT for an update on that fic, I got my fingers crossed for Style endgame. Also CHECK OUT THEIR ART ON HERE they converted me to a short king Kyle truther and it’s a slay tbh.

Ladies and Gentleman We Are Floating In Space by gremlinteeth. A classic. The first sp multi chapter I read. THE LORE BRO. CREEK. STYLE. STANS CHARACTERIZATION GOES SO HARD HES MY BOIIIII

Ok. That’s all my recs for now. Sry for being insane.

[muldermuse]

Two sinners, Gator pulls reader over and handcuffs her and fucks her on the hood of the car

🫠🫠🫠

nsfw below the cut mdni!

part of the two sinners works

also pls send me smutty gator asks/thots

THIS MAKES ME FERAL

hes so fucking mean about it as well, the road is so dark and quiet- the only sounds filling the air is the squeak of the cars suspension, your stifled bemoans and his hairy thighs slapping against your skin. the tight cuffs digging into your wrists and reminding you how helpless you are- it just turns you on even more

“you’ll fuckin’ do anythin’ to get outta a ticket, huh? lettin’ the mean sheriff fuck you in public?” he all but giggles it behind you, loving the fantasy he’s created in his own mind

your eyes are rolling back with his relentless yet precise pace, you’re nearly drooling on the bonnet of the patrol car when you feel his hand press on your head. you can imagine the sick grin on his face at how desperate you look right now.

“beg me, you fuckin’ whore” his hand moves to your scalp and pulls at the root of your hair.

your voice comes out so whiny and pathetic, he nearly cums on the spot. “sheriff please, I’m sorry, i’ll n- oh my god Gator right there I’m gonna fuckin’ cum- sheriff, please don’t give me a ticket” it feels so good, you swear you could burst out crying. your orgasm hits you so hard your legs shake and you cry out so loud he has to shove his fingers into your mouth. you suck on them desperately as you come down and that sends him to the brink

he shoves you onto your knees as he strokes his hard cock quickly, bringing himself closer to the edge. you’re still dazed from your world shattering orgasm but you stick your tongue out as he cums over your face

(he’s been so fucking mean but he kisses the inside of your wrists after he takes the cuffs off)

[silly-little-gooses]

my book hot takes!!!

DON’T JUDGE ME, THESE ARE MY OPINIONS PLS DON’T CANCEL ME

~ I read the first acotar book and it was awful! I would love to make a whole other post abt this but the book was just terrible! I also read the first throne of glass book and I didn’t like it. sarah j maas just isn’t my fav author.

~ real people on the cover is SO UGLY. it takes all the magic out of the book.

~ the movie CAN be better than the book (ex: legally blonde, the devil wears prada)

~ all the harry potter spinoffs (while loved) are unnecessary (fantastic beasts, cursed child, etc)

~ making reading a competition takes all the fun out of reading :(

~ smut in books is never necessary for the plot, even if it’s romance

~ when books bring up real world problems like politics or covid, it ruins it a bit

~ colleen hoover books SUCK

~ audiobooks count as reading

~ books aren’t good by just being diverse. there are many factors that make up a good book.

~ you’re never too old for young adult or middle grade

~ it’s okay to write/annotate in books

~ used books deserve just as much as new books

~ in twilight, edward and jacob are both terrible love interests

~ severus snape doesn’t deserve forgiveness. (again, i can make a whole other post abt this)

~ heartstopper is SUPPOSED TO BE CRINGEY (book and the show)

~ when books use a bunch of fantasy/made up words at the beginning of the book without explaining anything is 🤢

anywayyyyyy pls don’t unalive me

[venuslovesmascs]

Hi!! I don’t really have a certain style or outline for readings so every one will be a little different im sure, I don’t like to limit myself and let the spirits and universe tell me what’s needed.

if it resonates pls leave a tag or comment 

I’m begging, talking to tarot and spirits

alone can make a girlie think they need psychiatric help

first guy - happy shark ? he looks happy

- queen of cups up, queen of wands reversed were the first two cards to come out - which I thought was really interesting. they want emotional maturity first , before intimacy or passion if it’s that type of connection. they don’t seem to be a sensual person, they like to emotionally get to know others however. they don’t accept “childlike” energy or people who can not commit. they have virgo energy. also cancer. always reminds me of queen of cups. they like security and balance.

honestly to me this doesn’t seem like someone you are seeing, either a crush you are scared to come forward to, or just a friend in general. it it’s a friend, they want to know you more intimately , to be able to care for you more. to emotionally support you more. if you reach out a hand, they will always want to grab it to help you.

they like to stay home. don’t like to go out and party. do not invite them out, especially with a large group. maybe a study sesh, baking, movie. honestly im not getting too much to pick up on here, they seem like a pretty chill person who likes to be in their own world. like I feel bad for interrupting their energy or peace lmao. if you want something, you have to make it known. they will NOT make the first move. but this person has good communication skills, and emotional maturity. definitely worth talking to. i think you will both learn more about each other if you have an honest conversation about how you are feeling. this person appreciates honesty, straightforwardness, and vulnerability. i honestly really get the vibe it’s a friend u want to communicate feelings for. don’t come on too strong or passionate, take things slow, they don’t like to rush. you’ll scare them lol. they are sensitive. don’t like change. u got this. let things flow. i know it’s hard, I suck at it that part.

- it only takes a taste, waitress the musical - came to my mind

- they have mom friend energy , maybe u have dad friend energy, “accidently parents to found family trope”

pile 2 - curved sharkey

this person may tend to take more than they give. we got the devil card. which isn’t always bad, but can involve lust or deep fantasy, living too much in a dream world, not being practical enough. they don’t desire commitment or balance right now. or communication. if they want to….,18+….. they like things firey and passionate. quick. they are the type to “get what I want”. no thinking. they want you to maybe relax a little more about communication. to live more in the moment. everyone wants different things from connections and that’s okay, you don’t always have to be on the same exact page, but you need to find a common ground. make sure you aren’t always walking the extra mile for them.

this person is fast. moves on quickly. like they don’t want me in their energy. they are like… sorry got to go. I’m bored.

you may be blinded to some red flags. they seem really sweet!! just not looking for anything serious, do not have time for commitment. but also have not communicated that, yikes :/ they like to indulge. I’d be careful with their energy honestly. you do not owe them anything. i wish I had more to say but there’s not much left lmao. they do not like the mushy feelings, or letting people in. you won’t be able to change that any time soon. feel free to engage if you don’t mind, just remember to stay true to yourself as well. do not hide your wants and needs. be honest that you are meeting them where they are for now. don’t build any resentment before something even begins.

pile three - cartoon shark

seems like a connection that has had separation, big changes in the past. a lot of hurt for both ends. one being more silent about their pain than the other.

this person wants a change for sure. numbers 3 or 12 could be important. they want to be more integrative . they seemed stuck in the past before, and feel guilty for so. they may have left you in the cold, “dropped your hand while dancing” / champagne problems. they want to bring you peace, if not come together, at least give closure. i think they had a lot going on, and want to explain. if you want to talk or not, that is your choice. just make sure you aren’t letting your “ego” decide - the part of you that holds resentments , pettiness, the part of your animalistic desires or patterns - dont make this a quick decision, take some time to think about it, not what would bring you short term fulfillment, but long term fulfillment.

they will understand if you do not want to integrate again, but either way want to help in whatever way possible.

this person cared about others opinions in the past, let status/family/friends/affairs get in between the connection. they care about their reputation. maybe they have already done some things in the past they are ashamed of, and are still afraid it can come into light. they felt like they were holding on my a thread. i still think their fear of reputation hasn’t changed if I’m being honest, im not sure they are still willing to put in any fight against others, but maybe for your connection. but don’t expect this person to change over night. they care, but still have issues being publicly outgoing or seen. they don’t like conflict. which is probably why they ran from you too lol. definitely avoidant. but if they come forward, it shows they are making change - remember that.

they didn’t fight for something like you wanted them to. they have never been good at communicating. they have worked on that for months, for themselves, not just you.

you are good at strategy. planning things out. they admire you for this. they are not. they are not good at looking into the future. they live in the moment. but are learning either way they fear what is to come. and they wish they had you to rely on , to be in the future , if nothing else. they don’t want to put the burden on you however , this scares them, maybe you are more financially/ emotionally put together, they may not feel good enough for you.

okay there’s a lot going on here but I think I’m going to end it here, feel free to message me for any clarification but, I think this is something that can only be worked out between you two in divine time.

PILE FOUR - SHOWER SHARK

this is definitely an ex or a past lover or current situation that’s getting less intimate . something has recently gone wrong. some kind of trust has been broken.

i think you are waiting for this person to change. but you two can not change together. they do not want the same things, you are both lacking fulfillment.

if I’m being honest, I don’t even think this person wants closure or to talk. they want a clean break, a fresh start. im sorry if you feel left out in the cold. there’s some new journey here that you have to take on your own. and I don’t think you are used to being alone. i know it’s scary, but I think the universe is high lighting some lesson or journey here. maybe this is long distance. starting college, or studying abroad, a new job, that kind of energy . i think you have a lot to look forward to. all these new changes coming are a blessing in the future. take time to mourn and heal, but know that when you are ready, you have a lot of fulfilling things ready for you. new friends, passions, hobbies

i think you felt really bogged down by this persons energy. that you were too similar. “twin flames” energy , not the western Instagram post “twin flames” but the idea that you meet someone who mirrors all the parts of you that you have ignored for years. that feels like your soulmate - how quickly and intimate you knew them. but it’s just the catalyst for your change and self growth. you will heal and grow into a person that people will love and understand, a person that this past energy won’t even recognize. i think you will always have love for them, it dosent feel too toxic in a sense, more just confusing, and hard, too hard. love dosent need to be hard.

focus on taking a break. mourning. going no contact seems like the best route here. we all have free will, im not telling you what to do. however , I think your energy would be best preserved if you had a clean break. no meeting up again. no drunk texts. no giving back some old tee shirt from the back of your closet that they don’t even want. bring it to goodwill. you will feel better in the long run if you focus on feeling empowered by yourself and not others. it’s okay go want community, and human connection is natural, but we still need self reliance and independence to be able to help others too. okay that’s a lot hope ur ok , much love. bye.

pile five - teeth sharkey

I’m getting this person wants to call you lol. they want to come back around, maybe from the past but not too far back.

they want to cleanse whatever has happened , maybe a fresh start. you may have noticed they have changed a little , dress differently, talk differently, new confidence?? new haircut ?? new phone?

they are a “shape-shifter” , they want to be a person that can change and provide for you. i don’t know how long term these changes are, they seem to change a lot - that is for your judgement and not mine. they seem smooth , I can like feel myself blushing??

welp - there’s definitely some big change spiritually within them with the death card I just pulled. they want change in your situation. maybe they link k***nk …. u know. they want to know the dark parts of you. show you the dark parts of them. “For better or for worse” energy. idk if they want long term commitment so to say? but they definitely want a more stable emotional connection. i may not be your boyfriend/girlfriend/partner but I’ll treat u and know u better than any of them energy.

there’s some secret they are hiding . i still don’t think they want to tell you everything, im not sure they want me to even be clear of what they want, maybe they do not know. they for sure want u tho. especially physically. wow they are attracted to u. possessive energy. maybe u like that, maybe u don’t. that’s urs to say. they want more eye contact, they think you have pretty eyes. they may like the occult / spiritual. OOO u know what, maybe they know you like it , they either researched it to impress you or actually had an awakening and want to share with you. they love your energy. they like being with you at night lol. maybe for some non-pg 13 stuff, but also I think they just want to be “spooky” in general with you and look at the moon and wander at night , do spells, that stuff. you seem to have changed them if I’m being honest. maybe opened up their heart. maybe you are their death moment.

if I’m being honest, idk if this is a person you see as “the one”. more like, a fling or fwb. but they were brought into your life for a reason. don’t let fears of the unknown / future hold you back from connecting with them. they have a lot to teach you.

[themightymoose]

A Day at the Museum

Imagine seeing a teenage girl walking all those animals in real life

Bruh they were having nightmares

Poor dudes

They just like me fr

Sunil just got a concussion

They're taking the eyes to the extreme

Them playing ball <3

Uh oh

"If dogs ran the world-" "Zoe stfu."

Blythe you rebel you

Poor Zoe is stuck with Sunil and Vinnie

Blythe you suck at lying

Damn all that for nothing

Minka pls for the love of god listen to Minka

Fantasy time

What an interactive fantasy

This security guard sucks at his job

Zoe taking one for the team

Can someone explain how these fantasies work

Oh hooray a song :D

Sung by all my least favorite pets :)

OH GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT

EW KILL THEM IT'S SO UGLY

So this song is just them singing about their dinosaur self insert ocs then

OH NO HE TOOK RUSSELL

Hey it's the iconic Sunil, Vinnie, and Pepper trio again :)

I might make headcanons about them as a trio

Why are they saying dudes

NOOOO RUSSELL DON'T GET SUCKED INTO THE FANTASY

"I can't help it... I'm still nervous :(" I love the line delivery

They're trying to help Pepper relax 🥺 (yes I know it's probably so that they don't have do deal with Pepper's scent but sssshhhh let me have this)

Okay damn they just left Pepper nevermind

Fake friends

"I'M GONNA START TAKING THIS PERSONALLY!" You should at this point

"Hello 😐" poor Pepper man she just got abandoned

Vinnie figure it out :)

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GUYS DON'T KNOW HOW TO END THE FANTASY

I'm feeling Blythe's stress right now

Nawwww you can't talk about Pepper like that she's RIGHT THERE

Look at her face

At least he's a nice security guard

"Wtf guys you abandoned me."

What

What

What

I'm done here

Side note: I find the fact that they all went missing in my order from least favorite to favorite pet hilarious (Minka, Penny, Zoe, Russell, Vinnie and Sunil, and Pepper, who never left)

[hanbindans]

sunday crossword (z.h drabble)

word count: 930 a/n: MY FIRST DRABBLE AHHHHH to be honest I am terribly nervous about how this will be received but I guess there is only one way to find out. This is heavily inspired by the song sunday crossword by J.Maya (as you can tell by the title hihi) and if you listen to it you can maybe understand the vibes I was going for better.... 🤓 also this is only semi-edited so pls don't hate me if there's mistakes somewhere

We go through high school and our early twenties thinking we need to be less us and more someone else if we are to be worthy of love. We make smalltalk and laugh politely at our coworker's jokes and even though it leaves a plastic taste on our tongues, this is just what one has to do to be an adult!! And even though it feels like it hurts more than it does us good, and we reach a point where we think that actually, wouldn't it be better if everyone was just more weird?? But even though we want to stop apologising for having weird and niche interests our fear of being known is stronger than our want to be loved.

The kind love we dream of when we are kids doesn't exist. Where someone is willing to let you in into their home as you are and embrace you in spite of all the things you failed at today. The happy, red rose bouquets and butterflies in your stomach, grandiose professions, large romantic gestures, treating you like you're the single most important person in the world, is too perfect to be true. It's only for Hollywood movies.

Still, what else can you do, when you're young and dating? You suck it up. You look and act your best self- convincing yourself and each other that there's nothing special or unique about you. You're just normal.

That's exactly why everyone needs a reliable bestie- who makes you comfortable enough to be your unapologetic self, and slouch down and manspread in your seat. That bestie of yours is Zhang Hao. The person who's willing to empty his Sunday schedule every weekend so you can go on a morning walk, get croissants and coffee at the local coffee shop, and walk back to his apartment to munch on pastries and coffee as you solve the weekly crossword in peace- like people in their 70's do.

"And get this, I asked SO many questions to him, because he was like really interested in sports, right? But he didn't ask a single question about my books, which is my interest."

Hao's keys jingle against each other as he unlocks his front door and throws them on the kitchen counter. He hasn't given any long responses during your 15 minute rant, but does alternate between "mhmm"s and "uh-huh"s to show that he's paying attention.

"Isn't it like common courtesy to at least pretend to care about your date's hobbies? He was just like, "oh, I don't read books", and then didn't ask a single question!! As if I was asking him questions because I give a damn about sports!! I don't need him to share my interests, I just need him to let me talk about them."

You leave the coffees and paper bag with croissants on the coffee table and throw yourself on the couch, spreading your limbs out comfortably with no care to leave space for Hao.

"That's why you need me, who does share your interests, and even lets you take over my apartment", Hao lifts your legs and sits on the other side of the couch, placing your shins on his lap. "If you found another guy who would keep you company while you do the crossword I would be replaced."

"the point is not for you to just keep me company, it's to actually solve the crossword with me. you just sit there and read"

Hao does a cheers towards you with his croissant, smug smile on his face, and takes a bite before digging into his fantasy novel. He uses your pant-leg as a napkin to wipe off the crumbs on his fingers.

You take a big swig of coffee and start to study your weekly crossword. Even though he is useless at helping you with the crossword (he can't count the number of letters in a word as he says it out loud), he is indeed way better company than the dude-bro you're dating. He doesn't make you feel stupid or weird about your interests and sharing your favourite movie with him doesn't feel like tearing yourself open. There's no pressure to say something funny, or to say something at all, to look presentable or to be in a good mood. You're having a lazy morning, sitting in your pyjama pants and with pastry crumbs on your t-shirts, and there's an almost holy sense of peace and comfort. This hour or two every weekend is reserved for relaxing and recovering from all the other people in your life. It is sacred. A time to feel like you're just existing as yourself. Even when you've had boyfriends, Hao was always there to do the Sunday crossword with you.

"6 letter word, it has to include an O and a V."

He marks the sentence he's reading with his finger. "Glove?"

"That's 5 letters, dummy."

"Language", he quips and slaps your ankle lightly. "I'm offering you free croissants and my whole couch. And most importantly good company."

A defeated sigh slips from you. "Right", you whisper to yourself, and let the room fall back into comfortable silence.

Wouldn't it be better if everyone was just more weird? And we stop apologising so much for having niche interests and start building genuine, meaningful relationships instead? Being honest is scary but it also lets us find equally honest people. Like best friends who want to sit next to you while you solve your crossword.

"The word was 'lovers'."

"Ahaaa..." Hao's curiosity is quenched with that answer, and he takes another bite from his croissant before continuing his book.

[astralartefact]

Placeholder Name for Atarase's Media Diary

Extra Entry 00a - Final Fantasy 14 Endwalker 6.X Patch Series

Synopsis

The Gang Solves a Demon Crusade

The Gang Learns of the Messiest Divorce in the Multiverse

The Gang Ruins their Academic Reputation by Absolutely Botching the Only Interview Humanity Will Ever Have With Their Gods (Gone Wrong) (Gone Blasphemous)

The Gang Does Side Quests at the Other End of the Universe

i wrote this ages ago before dawntrail came out and forgot to post it but i still agree with what i wrote so have fun experiencing some hindsight <3

How much did I know before playing?

I'm playing this game since the end of Heavensward.

Did I like it more than I expected?

As seemingly one of 5 people with healthy expectations in this community I actually did.

Except for---

Since I liked it, here's what I hated about it

Eulogia. Fuck Eulogia. Way to ruin, like, everything.

Who wrote this. I just have some questions. I want to know if you ever once thought, like at all. For your own sake, dear writer responsible for this shlock, I hope YoshiP never reveals your name to the public for you already have a spiritual nemesis that will badmouth you to his absolutely non-sizeable internet audience.

Also, I guess searching for a Pictomancer glam in preparation for Dawntrail also has made me once again aware that the designs for magic armor in this game suck ass, you know I enjoy the subdued but still magical vibe of the art design but to be quite honest I thoroughly dislike most of the armor aesthetic. How are you guys, especially male characters, maining magic jobs with only like 3 glams that aren't long, ugly and/or feminine robes, I knew it was a meme but it's really that bad.

The worst part really is that there's several dozen good outfits where you can literally see the line where the top should have ended - only for them to still extend the cape all the way to the ground for no good reason making the entire piece look like shit. pls yoshi p just loosen the glam restrictions so you just have to have the class unlocked at that level to glam it onto every other class q_q that would take a minimal amount of effort and it would solve world hunger i swear it would q_q

What did this game make me think about?

The place of Redemption, Accountability and Forgiveness in our current age and its relation to our relationship to Religion.

And just so you're aware it's not the fucking God Exodus Story Line that made me think about any of that, no, that shitty story line has not thought a singular second about any of those points.

Specific Impressions that will stick with me

As much as I hate the story of Myths of the Realm the presentation slaps as always, the raids are gorgeous and Soken does what Soken do. (I'm value neutral on the Raid's difficulty or whatever the community decides to care about these days)

The Left Ending of Sil'dih with the tea table surrounded by flowers (i think it's the left one?) that place is so fckin pretty q_q and i love nanamooo

Outstanding Audio

Basically all of Myths of the Realm except for the Final Boss theme which I hate on principle because Fuck Eulogia

hurts bc dawn of a new era is was my favorite ff14 theme q_q

Troian Beauty in D Minor i don't think it's d minor

Favorite Character

KRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILE does she count she's barely in it

Nophica with a Gun (the Nophica that wasn't ruined by Myths of a Realm)

Paper Menphina

My Hrothgar Barbariccia OC I wrote to be my wol's shard of the void

And I did like Zero!

Favorite Arc/Story Line

I liked the Void Arc, I know People are big mad about it but I think it's fine! I only think it should have been optional, basically exactly like Stormblood's Four Lords, a Trial Series with a few Dungeons in between - then it wouldn't have had the burden of leading right into Dawntrail (a contrast so stark they couldn't even have tried to smoothen the transition) and people wouldn't have expected Zero to stay immediately relevant too.

Also some of the minor-ish quest lines were cute :)

Favorite Set Piece

I love Lymllaen's arena, it's kind of simple but so effective.

The final trash mobs in Thaleia :)))

Really cool Area with interesting mob design :)))))

A glimpse of what could have been :)))))))))) HOW IS THE FINAL TRASH MOB AREA PRETTIER THAN THE FINAL BOSS ROOM

Favorite Scene

Zero giving Golbez the chance to repent.

Best Performance (I played with JP voices)

AEGISU OBU HARUONE!!!!!!!!!

every single one of the gods was great, but not all of them, if you catch my drift (get it, fuck eulogia)

German Localization Notes

If you know me you know that I think the German FFXIV Localization is better than the English one and it still is and it will continue to be. I gladly pass on meme-y item descriptions if it means that I can expect the translation to not just write whatever it feels like at any given moment. (also, as I have expressed before I can't stand english olden speech writing, thank god the german tl doesn't do all that)

--- ENTERING THE PRETENTIOUS SECTION OF THIS ENTRY ---

What about this game gives me Hope for the future of gaming?

I have nothing really to say, I'm just so excited for Pictomancer you guys, every time I think about it I'm flushed with immense joy. I didn't think they would do it, but it's real. It's actually happening.

I guess what gives me Hope about that is that Yoshi P didn't get too lost in FF16's Fantasy Realism, because drab fantasy aesthetics is truly the worst outcome of lore culture.

What about this game makes me scared for the future of gaming?

You see, there is this thing that has happened since the common consciousness has deemed that Shadowbringers is indeed that good and it's that people kind of immediately turned around to say, that actually, FF14 - WITH THE EXCEPTION OF THE BAD BAD STORMBLOOD WHICH IS BAD!!!! - has always been good.

After all Heavensward had that one quest line we all liked, remember, and the one dude died and we all really cared about him, right right right???

And while you are allowed to picture me dismissively pointing at your copy of Heavensward while I'm saying this I don't actually have that big of a take over Heavensward, mainly because I'm not particularly interested in reexamining it since I'm still not over how wildly that writer fumbled FF16's entire narrative point for 'emotional storytelling' or whatever that ending was about, the only thing I will say is that People always bring up the death as this big meaningful thing that's so impactful and how dare you not care about it as if Heavensward hasn't had two other pretty essential characters die for absolutely no good reason apart from conveniently getting rid of a character that would be a hassle to keep up with or setting up character development for another.

Anyways, the problem I actually have was that middle bit, the text in bold where people feel this insistent need to point out that they do indeed know that Stormblood's story is "bad."

But we all know that. It's one of those opinions everyone already shares with each other, because it's pretty obvious. Literally everyone, even and especially the ones who still like it, know that the story leaves at least a little bit to be desired - because different from what certain people online try to make you believe most people are indeed critical of the things they like. A lot of people just don't feel like loudly critizising every little thing they have a problem with, especially when overall they're still enjoying themselves. Some people call it being fun at a party. And if you're constantly nagging, you're not fun at a party - it's not a safe space full of snowflakes, you're just a complainer and that's why nobody wants to talk to you.

It's not that insightful to see that Stormblood didn't quite do it. If you were alone with him in a room even Yoshi-P would admit that Stormblood 'wasn't optimal' or whatever he would say, he's not that stupid, he's just professional enough not to throw his writers under the bus just to bad mouth his own product. And yet there's this certain subset of people that really really needs you to know that the expansion where they cried because that one guy they shipped their oc with died is really really good and yet the other one that's split in half for no reason is really really bad - as if it's something that's needed to be said. As if it's Insightful Commentary we all needed to hear.

I will make this sound more dramatic than I think it really is, but I think the critical reception of Shadowbringers has emboldened the FFXIV community to take their personal (emotional) reaction to a piece of media as proof that a thing is good. I think some link between "I liked it" and "It is good" has been strengthened in some people's minds and some of those people have started to use that for bad by using it as a weapon upgrade in the usual endless complaining about things everyone agrees is bad.

Basically, This thing is Bad has become This thing is Bad, unlike the thing which is clearly Good because I liked it (and look, everyone agrees with me)

Except of course you can like bad things. The Game Awards nominated FF16 for Best Narrative.

And that just makes for repeated situations where people will say shit like "but it's so good because it's bittersweet" about Myths of the Realm - which, great, happy you had an emotional response to all of that - but that's also kind of the bare minimum you should achieve when you decide to kill off characters that are so important to the setting you choose a diety for your character before you choose a name. The Twelve Leaving being sad is Basic Empathy, to me that's not some kind of writing success.

Sadly whoever mangled this sad excuse for a storyline also decided to make sure the exodus of the Twelve somehow left less impact on the game world than fucking YoRHa:Dark Apocalypse and there you people keep complaining about it despite it being a cross-over storyline where something like that shouldn't be expected.

What I want to make clear by pointing this out is that the problem with that isn't that people like something that's bad actually - you can like Myths of the Realm, it's fine - and it's not even something more profound sounding like 'people become "too attached" to a piece of media to the point of being personally insulted when it's critizised.'

Because to that point I say a) of course people feel weird when a thing they like is being bad mouthed that's just a normal human reaction (you know, one of the things art is about, you generally create something to be reacted to) and I don't like how that continually crops up as a rebuttal to people becoming "defensive" over "something meaningless" (nice way to refer to art btw) as if growing attached to a piece of art is something to be ashamed of - and also b): people on the internet overstate the value and necessity of public critique. (not saying it's not important but some people seem to think only their critique alone is the sole way a creator can grow which... i regret to inform you that unsolicited advice is rarely as helpful as you would like it to be, even if it is "correct".)

I think the problem is that these 'criticisms' don't come out of a genuine "empathy" for the thing they like - unlike some people seem to have convinced themselves - because if that was the case maybe we would actually get not necessarily a productive discussion - none of us is working on this game after all (and honestly it's okay to stop pretending that somebody who does listens) - but it would be a more interesting one for sure. I can't tell you what to like (as much as I would love to), but I can encourage you to have more meaningful introspections into what you love than to blindly accept those tired talking points everyone is repeating at nauseam.

And with more meaningful I don't actually mean 'deep' it just means being honest to yourself and your feelings, even and especially if it is something completely mundane.

Because I think a lot of this is the opposite - this is people parroting common points about the thing that is popular to be part of the in-group with as little personal stake as possible - and by punching down on the out-group you can strengthen your place in the crowd, your social capital. It's bullying masquerading as 'valid criticisms', or maybe even Nerd Populism. if only we had an alliance raid series about that.

The Ramble Section where I get to actually talk about what I thought about

I would love nothing more than to 'valid criticism' all over Myths of the Realm - but that would take 15 pages of a Google Doc and I think down here is really not the place.

It's just sad to see the Twelve, Aglaia, Euphrosyne and 3/4ths of Thaleia be absolutely wasted for a shitty resolution that spits in the face not only of our beloved made-up history facts known as Lore but also the entire premise of ARR to Stormblood. But hey, at least it's bittersweet am i right

Anyways, let's Ramble about Ancient Greek Pronounciation.

I haven't had Ancient Greek in School (I could have, but Latin was already old and boring enough for me, thanks) so I had to scrape together how to pronounce Euphrosyne just so I can be annoying about it and as much as I want to say Oi-pro-sü-neh (I think English Speakers don't have the german ü sound, it's basically the same as in the french word rue) because it's much easier to pronounce, Ancient Greek makes a difference between Eu and Oi and I fail to understand how the Eu sounds no matter how many times I listen to it.

By which I mean, you can pretend it's You-froze-a-knee as much as you want, it's wrong and you sound foolish.

[beefromanoff]

Going Under Ch. 22

summary: the morning after their first date and another game night with the team. for some reason, they all seem to end the same way...

characters: Bucky Barnes x OC

soundtrack: accidentally in love - counting crows

warnings: fluff, pop star fantasy x love story, set in an AU where the Avengers reunite after Civil War, pre-infinity war, slight angst, hurt/comfort, lonely reader/OC.

author’s note: okay, so I've been writing everything pretty much one chapter for each day because I just love the fluff and the stage it's all in. BUT to move the story along, I probably need to do a few more little time jumps. is that what you'd want to read, or should I really drag it out with more fluff?! PLS LET ME KNOW AND I'LL DO IT

chapter list/links - xo

___________________________________________

“Ugh, come on,” Wanda whined. “Tell me more!”

“I already told you everything! Twice!” 

“There has to be something you’re leaving out. You haven’t stopped smiling all morning.” 

Gianna blushed. “It was a perfect night, I don’t know what else you think there would be!” 

Narrowing her eyes, Wanda regarded her friend as if trying to decide if she would pry further. “Hmm. Okay. Whatever you say.” 

Gianna rolled her eyes, laughing. “Can’t you read minds? You know exactly what happened.”

“I’m trying to cut back on that.”

The night had been perfect, indeed. 

Dinner was divine, the weather calm and the breeze cool. The entire date had been planned with such intention that it still made Gianna’s head spin. From the decor to the dancing to the way Bucky looked at her, eyes lingering now that they weren’t both tiptoeing around their feelings for one another. 

They’d danced silently for nearly half of the album, an older set of songs that made Gianna feel like she was the star of a 1940’s romance movie. When she’d lifted her head from his chest to look him in the eyes, she felt so many things flooding through her. 

Adoration. Desire. Gratitude. Infatuation. Nervousness. An overwhelming and irrefutable urge to kiss him. 

That’s exactly what she did. 

It was different from the night before. There was a mutual understanding that it would happen again, but the anticipation of when and how was dizzying. Her eyes met his, her thumb tracing his cheek before sliding around to the back of his head. Bucky’s hand let go of hers as they stopped dancing. He moved slowly. 

First, he tucked her hair behind her ears, both hands soft and synchronized. They slid from behind her ears down to her shoulders, fingertips sliding down her back and coming to rest on her hips. Her lips parted as she sucked in a breath, shivering. 

There was a moment where everything stood still. The world stopped turning and they both stood there, inches apart, drunk off of red wine and proximity. 

And then it happened. 

He leaned down and she rose up on tiptoes. Lips brushed together, lightly and slowly. It was unhurried, patient. 

Last night’s kiss had been the culmination of months of yearning, secret daydreams, suppressed urges. It was desperate, both of them acting as though it was a fleeting moment that they may never get back. Tonight, it was the opposite. It was slow and measured. It was understood that this would happen again, many, many times. 

It all ran together in Gianna’s memories. She didn’t know how long they stood there, lips tenderly moving together. His hands were on her back, they were in her hair. Hers held his neck, his hands, tangled in the fabric of his shirt. 

They laid on their backs on the dock, on a thick blanket that proved Bucky had spared no detail. She traced circles on his arm and he looked at her as though he was trying to commit every detail of her face to memory. The stars twinkled above them, somehow the least memorable part of the entire night. 

At some point, she’d dozed off after laying there for so long. In a strangely full-circle moment, Bucky had carried her back to her room, with her only stirring as he set her down on the bed. 

He leaned down to kiss her head. 

“Bucky?” 

“Shhh, you’re in bed. Go back to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Don’t go,” She caught his hand before he slipped out the door. 

“As much as I’d love to stay,” He held her hand to his chest before releasing it onto the comforter. “I told you, we’re doing this right.” 

“I miss you already.” Her voice was groggy but her smile was warm. 

“Sweet dreams.” 

____________________________

“Umm, Earth to Hannah Montana?” Tony snapped his fingers in front of her face, jolting her back to the present. They stood on the balcony of their building, overlooking a very intense game of frisbee down below. Bucky had hurled the disc nearly a hundred yards when Vision dropped out of the sky to grab it. 

“Yes, uh, sorry -- what?” 

“Are you down for another dysfunctional, slightly incestuous family game night?” 

“Mmm, let me check my calendar. I’ve been pretty booked up these days.” 

“Funny,” He chortled. “Let me ask, when you tell jokes around Darth Vader down there, does he laugh? Because in my experience, he’s not exactly a comedy aficionado.”

Gianna grinned. “It’s all in the delivery.” 

“Yeah, okay. Note to self, be a hot blonde if I want to get a better reaction.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Something like that.” 

Later that night, they’d gathered around the common room, half a dozen pizza boxes strewn on the floor. This living room was smaller than the one in New York, it had fewer windows and felt more intimate, cozier. As was most common, the team was in varying degrees of loungewear. Sweatshirts, hoodies, and sweatpants seemed to be their preferred uniform. 

"So, Bucky," Tony smirked, taking a nonchalant bite of his pizza, "Heard you and G had a little romantic rendezvous last night. Care to spill the salacious details?"

Bucky rolled his eyes, his lips curling into a half-smile. "It was just a date, Stark. Nothing you haven't done before."

“There’s not much I haven’t done before, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like the post-game recap.”

Natasha chimed in, eyes mischievous. "Now that you mention it, I don’t remember hearing you two come back last night. Sam, did you hear anything?” 

“You know what, that’s a great point. I didn’t hear a thing and you know I was up past midnight.” Sam tapped his chin as if he were deep in thought. 

Bucky feigned indifference, but the faint pink tint on his cheeks betrayed his emotions. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Gianna, sitting next to him, nudged his arm playfully. "Don't worry, Bucky. It’s a good thing they didn’t hear anything or they’d be complaining instead of giving us grief.” 

A chorus of groans and laughter filled the room. Bucky grinned at Gianna, thankful she was not only such a good sport with the team’s constant teasing, but consistently able to diffuse the situation with a joke of her own. Tony clapped his hands over Peter’s ears. “Have some class, you two. There are children present.” 

Peter, squirming away from Tony, interjected, "Did you guys hold hands? Share a dessert? Wait, did take spaghetti and end up reenacting that iconic Lady and the Tramp scene?"

Gianna burst into laughter, playfully nudging Bucky again. "I don’t kiss and tell, but I can confirm we did not reenact any animated pasta-eating scenes."

Steve chimed in, giving Peter a pointed look. "Well, as long as you both had a good time, that's all that matters."

“Wait,” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “How did you know we had spaghetti?”

“Uh, I-” Peter’s eyes darted around the room as everyone suddenly became very interested in the pizza on their plates. “Lucky guess?”

Sam spoke up, coming to his rescue. "Come on man, you can’t expect us not to snoop on your first date this century. That’s just called being emotionally invested.” 

Wanda, ever the sweet one, added, "You two look great together. We're happy for you. Truly."

Bucky, caught off guard by the team's teasing but appreciating the camaraderie, finally cracked a smile. "Yeah, whatever, thanks everyone. Now, can we get to whatever dumbass game you have planned?” 

An hour and a half later, they’d wrapped up a lively game of spoons, which resulted in a small crack in the hardwood from where Bucky had gotten a little too competitive against Sam for the win. Apparently that was a new record for fewest injuries during spoons, with Natasha claiming everyone was behaving themselves in front of Gianna. 

“Okay, not that I don’t love games made with kindergarteners in mind, but let’s switch it up a little.” Tony poured himself another drink. “FRIDAY, moderate a game of truth or dare. Let’s call it PG-13. Maybe R-Rated. Find the balance.” 

“Yes, Mr. Stark. Who would you like to go first?” 

“Let’s go oldest to youngest.” Tony winked at Bucky, who rolled his eyes. 

“Mr. Barnes, truth or dare?” 

Bucky looked at Gianna, annoyed and amused. “Uh, truth.” 

“Boring,” Tony faked a yawn. 

“Is it true that you once told Mr. Stark that a window was smashed during a training exercise when in reality you bet Mr. Parker that you could throw him through that window like, and I quote, a fastball up the middle?” 

Bucky hung his head, suppressing a laugh. “It sounds like you already know the answer, FRIDAY.” He glanced at Peter, who was looking at Tony wide-eyed. “Yes, it’s true.” 

“Unbelievable. Absolutely no regard for other people’s belongings.” Tony turned to Peter. “You should have known better. I expected more from you.” 

“What, hey! He’s older!” Peter protested. 

“I don’t care, if he told you to go jump off a bridge, would you do it? Don’t answer that. You’re grounded.” 

“Mr. Stark, I’m almost 21 -” 

“Grounded.” 

The game continued around the table, going the opposite direction of where Gianna sat to Bucky’s left. This round left them all laughing so hard her stomach hurt. Peter took a dare to chug an entire beer while spinning around and then attempt to walk in a straight line, which was fortunately performed on the balcony because he promptly threw it back up. 

Steve played it safe by choosing truth, but immediately regretted it when FRIDAY asked him if it was true he’d looked up Natasha’s old modeling photos within the past week. Judging by the way she looked at him when he admitted it was true, Nat didn’t seem to mind at all. 

Wanda chose truth as well, being asked to tell which of the group members she found most attractive. She sweetly answered Peter, who turned a shade of red they’d only ever seen on his suit, making Wanda giggle. 

Vision was dared to let Wanda teach him a TikTok dance, which failed miserably. The attempts alone left everyone in tears of laughter. 

Natasha had been dared to switch clothes with one other player, and to no one’s surprise, she chose Steve. They’d emerged from Steve’s room with Natasha looking cozier than ever in his crewneck and joggers, but Steve stuck in a very snug tank top and leggings that left shockingly little to the imagination. 

Sam’s dare was arguably the funniest, sending him on a mission to fly around the perimeter of the building and moon the poor agent who was on gate patrol that night. Fortunately, it was an agent they all knew well and had a good sense of humor. He’d flipped Sam off but laughed the whole time. 

Tony had chosen truth, but when FRIDAY asked if he was the one who sent photos of himself looking especially muscular on his beach trip to Bora Bora to the press, he changed his answer to dare. As a result, he now had a small stick’n’poke tattoo on the top of his foot that read “Nat was here”. 

“Hey, it was your idea to play truth or dare.” Nat shrugged, putting the lid back on the inkpot. “Plus, you only got dared because you pussied out of answering the question. As if we don’t all already know.” 

“Yeah, fine, let’s just hope this doesn’t get infected or I’ll be sending my hospital bill straight to you.” He waved his hand at Natasha. “Alright, saved the best for last, our guest of honor.” 

Gianna sat up straighter, polishing off the rest of her drink. 

“Ms. Cruz, truth or dare?” 

She glanced at Bucky, biting her lip. “Dare.” 

“I dare you to remove two articles of clothing for the duration of the game.” 

Shrugging, Gianna grasped at the hem of her sweatshirt and lifted. She’d hardly gotten it three inches when a metal hand grabbed her wrist.

“No.” Bucky spoke firmly. 

A flutter went through her stomach at his possessive tone. 

“Hey, that’s just part of the -” Tony protested. 

“No.” 

Natasha raised her eyebrows, glancing at Wanda. The air was thick with unspoken tension, Bucky’s hand still on Gianna’s wrist. 

“Woo, man,” Sam fanned himself. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” 

“Okay fine, FRIDAY, let’s have a do-over.” 

“Ms. Cruz, I dare you to kiss one other player of your choosing for no fewer than 30 seconds. The time will begin when you do.” 

“Ah, great.” Tony rolled his eyes before pointing at Peter. “Kid, cover your eyes.” 

Grinning, Gianna pretended to carefully consider her options. She turned to Bucky, looking him up and down. “I suppose you’ll do.” 

“I’m a team player.” He smirked. 

She flipped her hair over her shoulder as the group whistled and taunted. Climbing up on her knees, Gianna slid one leg over Bucky’s lap so she was straddling him. “FRIDAY, start the clock.” 

She grabbed his face and greeted him with a steamy, open-mouthed kiss. He was letting her lead, but didn’t back down. His hands gripped her thighs on either side of his waist. She tangled her hands in his hair, tilting his head back against the couch he’d been leaning on. Once again, she bit his lip and tugged before going back to the makeout. If she couldn’t tell he liked it by the vice grip he had on her legs, she definitely could by the stirring she felt underneath her. She smiled into the kiss, hearing the team’s whistles and cheers continue. 

“Time!” 

She slid her hand up his chest.

“Hey, time’s up you ravenous animals.” Tony called. 

Bucky kissed her with more force. 

“Come on,” Sam tossed a pillow at them. “Get a room.” 

“Preferably not the one next to me,” Steve joined in, tossing another one. 

Bucky batted them away behind Gianna’s back without breaking the kiss. When she couldn’t hold her laughter back anymore, she pulled away, cascading into a fit of giggles as she toppled off of his lap and back to her spot on the floor next to him.

“Now that was an Oscar-winning performance if I’ve ever seen one.” Nat winked at Gianna. 

“You think so?” She giggled. “It felt a little under-rehearsed.” 

“I think we can fix that.” Bucky put his arm around her, grinning. 

“Alright, I think we better switch games before this turns into something pornographic. Who’s down for charades?” Tony stood. “And for the love of God, Rogers, please put your own pants back on. I don’t even want to know what I’m making eye contact with right now.”

[ithilien-writes]

just rewatched the ramon & eddie scene in 5x17 and it just makes 7x10 so much more obnoxious, like. where was that ramon??? that was such an incredibly powerful scene and then they did literally nothing with it afterwards. like why wasn't this storyline about the diaz parents actually showing up for eddie for once??? can we pls just let me live in a fantasy world where parents can decide to not suck anymore and actually make amends with their adult kids???

[eileenguy]

pls tell us ur prequelcrit opinions btw

ANON IM SO FUCKING SORRY THEY DELETED YOU OH MY GOD. anyways here's the answer under the cut that i had to rewrite in its entirety<3

so um. this must feel very weird because it was just announced that the prequel was cancelled by the CW so i rlly don't think me airing my problems with it remains fruitful but STILL. as a marygirl and johncrit/john-understander AND frequent participant of toxic tragic maryjohn """"shipping"""" i have to say (as someone who has not watched this show keep that in mind pls this is just from what i have seen on the dash). it's very weird that the writers and producers decided to focus on how dean's feelings must be hurt and on dean's need for a hashtag apple pie normal happy domestic home life and dean's closure and ignored basically everything about the actual mary and john.

i thought it was very disrespectful to mary in particular, who had to marry a man she despised (and vice-versa on his part) because of divine manipulation from heaven. one thing about mary's story was that she did not want to be a hunter in the end and that she craved safety for her and her loved ones instead of the dangers for hunting. despite this she could never get out of the hunting life because her destiny was to be used as a pawn in the celestial game leading upto the apocalypse and the end of the world which like! fucking sucks! and she loved her children and probably also her husband (how much of the latter was genuine and not the aforementioned celestial fuckery we'll never know) but that doesn't mean her life and marriage were happy or normal.

john as well. he was forced to fall in love with a person he "couldn't stand" due to higher forces orchestrating it since the beginning of humankind apparently. but unlike mary he didn't stop believing in his destiny. before her death we know that mary was considering divorce but we don't know if john felt the same. what we do know is that immediately after her death he spiralled so hard that he decided to risk him and his children's lives to seek revenge against her murderers, which unfortunately led to him discovering hunting and raising his kids up to be hunters, which is the only thing mary didn't want. infact, ending this cycle of hunting was the main reason she made sure he remained ignorant of hunting and her past life as a hunter. and we know that instead of doing any of this, john could've easily talked with mary's ghost (see 1x09) and consulted with her on how to parent their kids, or heck, even just straight up ASKED her who her killer was, but he didn't. because talking with mary would mean having to talk about their cringefail marriage and life together. he held up an ideal of her as the perfect wife and their relationship as the perfect marriage, and he sacrificed his life and his sons' lives at this fake altar. (keep in mind, it is very IMPORTANT to his character that he does not know shit about hunting before mary's death)

mary also does this, in a way, when after being brainwashed by the bmol (boooo!) she retreats into a mental fantasy where she's younger, dean is a toddler and sammy's an infant and refuses to "look at" the older dean who repeatedly asks her to see him and hear him. tellingly, john isn't a part of this fantasy.

.

.

.

.

.

.

so obviously all of this affected dean. knowing that your father would rather choose a life of danger and uncertainty over a healthy and safe childhood for you and your brother, knowing that him and your mother never "truly" loved each other, knowing that their marriage was on the verge of ending before your mother's death all fucking sucks. knowing that because you turned out leading the life you mother did not want for you to have, having your mother come back after so many years but she's about a decade younger than you and would rather go back to what's known and comforting to her (i.e. hunting) over parenting your adult ass and confronting her new reality has also got to suck. after being traumatised and put in harm's way his entire childhood and early adulthood by his father, who was acting in the interest of protecting the perfect made-up ideal of his angelic mother and their perfect life before her death, he was even denied the closure of having a mother and regaining that type of life when she was actually present for it.

this absolutely does not mean we should write and produce shows where dean's form of "closure" is travelling the multiverse (you will NEVER be spiderverse etc etc), finding a perfect reality that exists where we retcon his parents as better people who DID love each other, actually, and they ALSO had brown and queer friends and they were like, totally cool with that, and the impala is a time travelling car now. maryjohn is not a love story. it is a tragedy. it is a horror story. it can even be a fucking comedy if you think about how absurd it all is, but it is NEVER a normal happy romance.

they fundamentally cannot end up together and be happy about it. and you cannot ask me to be happy about such a story! i would've even been ok with the show if they presented us with dean who is dead in heaven, refusing to meet his similarly dead-and-in-heaven parents, completely dissatisfied with how his life was and instead of finally resting, choosing to time travel across multiverses to find a reality where his life had the potential to be happier, where his parents stayed together willingly and resolved all their conflicts, where he had a better childhood. and presented us with all of this as the insanely tragic, terrifying thing that it is instead of some nostalgic, forever 21 wardrobed, 70s scooby-doo-esque, retro funfest.

i don't fault people (especially dean fans) for liking this show. i understand how seeing dean again, and seeing him happy, seeing him finally "save" his mother, could be cathartic or even just plain enjoyable for a lot of people. but im unhealthily obsessed with a lot of the source material this show plays so fast and loose with and it's so unacceptable to me lol.

[natti-ice]

OMG NATTI?? 700??? it feels like just yesterday i was scrolling through tumblr and found your blog through another milestone you had before you deactivated…. and then deactivated again.

BUT CONGRATS POOKIE BEAR. THIS JUST GOES TO SHOW HOW AWESOME YOU AND YOUR WRITING IS!

in honor of 700, id like to request a mini challenge! (although i don’t really have a preference for fandom. stick me with whoever, pookie, i trust your judgment 😚)

so… about me! i’m very shy and anxious and introverted but once you get to know me, i’m super talkative!! but you actually have to KNOW me first because i absolutely SUCK at texting people and understanding how to carry a conversation that way without talking in person first (ironic, isn’t it??)

my hobbies typically include reading fantasy books, listening to music, a little bit of embroidery but i haven’t picked that up in a while, and watching shows (with friends). my favorite genres of music are indie and musicals. honestly, i like songs based on their vibes for the most part. i’m very passionate about music in general, as i played the viola for 9 years from 4th grade up until i graduated high school.

currently, i’m in my first year of college and i finished my first semester with a 4.0 gpa!! (i don’t get to brag about that to many ppl…pls be proud of me ;-;) i’m a psychology major studying to hopefully become a counselor or therapist because people need someone to talk about their problems with in such a fucked up world. and to be honest, i wanna be able to help people how i needed (and still need) when i was younger. i also just find the workings of the brain super interesting!

uh uh uhhh i crave to be soft girl core and have a nice romantic experience with someone at some point, but i wear a lot of hoodies and jeans (specifically boot cut) which doesn’t really get to exhibit the soft girl vibes. does that make sense?? i crave to be girly feminine pretty bisexual but my wardrobe and wallet can’t afford that type of change 😔

ANYWAYS!! hope this helps pookie 😌

Thank you pookie bear!! I’m very glad we found each other my dear mae 🫶🏻🫶🏻 (we don’t need to talk about the deactivation 🌚) ALSO SLAYYYYYY 4.0 IN THIS BITCH‼️

I ship you with…finnick odair!

He definitely finds intelligent very attractive and would be drawn to your passion for fine arts! I think he would find you very charismatic, your shy exterior would be presented to him as almost a challenge and that excites him

Join my 700 celebration!

[bloodyrippah]

I just wrote a Damon Salavtore fanfic 😮‍💨 it's titled Iridescent. I suck at promo. I created a fantasy world just for it because i plan to write a novel based on it. Hwhehehehs. Check it out pls.

I have this recurring dream that we're still together.We live on a remote island. At first, it's only the both of us. We'll argue about marriage, as we always did before we settled down with a dog. A golden retriever, or Rottweiler. Any type of dog. Then, we'll get a cat with the same attitude as me. Then we'll have children. First, a daughter who is a carbon copy of you. Then we'll have a son, he's going to be like me.