#living vicariously through my boys

[janeelyakiri]

My lovely Wife @skitteringjunbug asked if my Cross, Shrike, was Trans too. To which I say hell yeah he is 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

Cross (c) Jakei

Shrike (c) me

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Steve's not obsessed with Eddie's hands.

He's not.

They're just... he happened to notice them, once, when Eddie was listening to Dustin talk through how he might want to make his first DM campaign play out.

Steve wasn't even really paying attention at first, just reading some comic he'd found lying in Eddie's room. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he'd seen it. Movement.

Eddie and Dustin were sitting at the small kitchen table, Dustin talking about puzzles and traps and monsters and Eddie was smiling, nodding encouragingly, looking more and more exicted. But it wasn't the movement of his head that drew Steve's attention.

It was his hands.

They were resting on the sides of his legs, tapping.

Steve could only see one hand really, but he could see Eddie's other arm jumping the same way, his hands moving faster and faster the more excited he got, until they were just hovering near his legs, flapping in the air beside him as he smiled widely at Dustin. He suggested a few things, to Dustin, Steve's pretty sure that's what he was saying anyway, his ears weren't great anymore if he wasn't focused, and right now, all of his focus was on Eddie's hands.

Dustin slapped his hand on the table, pointed at Eddie and then started scribbling as Eddie laughed, Steve always managed to hear Eddie's laugh, his hands flapping harder, slapping at his thighs.

Steve vaguely hears his name, cocks his head to the side, but doesn't respond, his eyes still locked on Eddie's flapping hands, and then they stop moving. Both of them freezing, the one Steve can see clamps down on Eddie's thigh, fingers pressing into his jeans.

Steve blinks. Tears his eyes away. Looks at Eddie.

He's staring at Steve, his cheeks tinted pink. Steve swallows, gives him a little smile before Dustin has his attention, chatting at him about what he and Eddie had just come up with.

Steve hears about half of it. Nodding when he thinks he should, trying his best to sound interested. It's enough for Dustin. The barely there commitment. And usually Steve is better at engaging with him, even though he has no clue what he's talking about.

But he's distracted. His eyes keep wandering to Eddie's hands. But they don't move again the whole time he's there, Eddie's knuckles turn white as Steve's eyes linger on his hand. His fingers still pressing into his thigh, they drum a quick beat here and there, but his hands don't move.

Steve sighs, drags his eyes away, and tries to keep them off Eddie. Somehow feeling like Eddie is embarrassed, or upset, that Steve had seen... whatever it was he'd seen.

~°~

It keeps happening.

Eddie's flapping hands.

Steve's eyes on them.

But he's careful now. He doesn't stare. Just steals glances when the movements draw his eye. And Eddie always has his hands under tables, or tucked close to his sides, when it happens. Like he's trying to hide it.

Steve doesn't understand why. He likes it. Every time he sees Eddie's hands moving excitedly it makes his chest flutter. Like he's so happy that Eddie's happy it just fills him with warmth.

But it happens other times too.

Not only when he's happy.

It happens when he's nervous.

Happens when he's scared.

The movements are more erratic when he's nervous or scared. His hands flap, shake, clench, and unclench at his sides.

Every time, Steve wants to reach out and touch. To take his hands, hold them in his and tell him he's okay. That whatever it is. Steve will help.

But he hides it. Behind distracting smiles, and under tables, and behind his back, sometimes. But Steve sees him, watches him, and he wants.

Wants to ask. Wants to touch. Wants to be touched.

Wants to feel Eddie's shaking, flapping, hands against him. Wants to be the reason they flap happily at his sides sometimes. Wants to feel them flap happily against his sides. Wonders if Eddie would do that against his back if he kissed him.

Or if he'd do it lying underneath Steve, clutching at his shirt before his hands just taptaptaptapped against his back as Steve pressed him into his matress.

Or maybe he'd hold Eddie's hands, up above his head. Feel his fingers tapping against his hands as Steve kissed him, nice and slow. Eddie would just tap faster, if he was happy, if he wanted that, with Steve.

Steve sighed, deeply, and glanced at Eddie's hands, his left one resting in his lap, thumb twisting at his ring. His right one, hanging down by his leg, shaking happily as he listened to Will and Dustin make plans for their new campaign, and wished he could reach out and touch him. Even just settle his hand against Eddie's, just to feel the joy shake out of his body.

~°~

The first time Steve reaches out and takes Eddie's shaking hand, is at the summer carnival.

It's hot. And crowded. And loud. And they're waiting in line for some ride the kids want to drag them on. People laughing and screaming and crowding around, jostling them and bumping their shoulders.

And Eddie had gone quiet about five minutes ago. Steve keeps glancing down, watching his hands. It takes three more minutes. But they start to shake, flapping at his sides before he grabs at his jeans, wipes his palms, lets them shake again.

Steve leans forward, tells Dustin they'll be over by the benches, and he grabs Eddie's hand, gently slides his hand into Eddie's. Eddie looks at him, blinking rapidly.

"You wanna come with me? Get outta here?" Steve asks, jerks his head to the side. Eddie nods immediately, his fingers clamping down on Steve's hand, hard. But Steve doesn't care, because Eddie's hand shakes, just once or twice, and then it stops. And his hand is warm, and strong, inside Steve's as he leads them to the benches and sits Eddie down.

He gives him a drink of his lemon shake up, snorts when Eddie makes a face at the sour taste, and then sits next to him.

Eddie takes a few deep breaths, his eyes closed. He takes his hand out of Steve's, leaving him aching for his touch. Steve just lets him go, rests his hand in his lap instead.

"Thanks." Eddie sighs, after a long moment, his eyes finally opening, they don't land on Steve. Stay locked on his lap.

"Anytime." He says, and he means it. Deep in his chest he means it, he'd do anything for Eddie. Always. Eddie smiles, finally looking at him.

"Can't believe you tried to kill me with that though." Eddie huffs, kicks Steve's shoe with his own and nods at the cup sitting between them.

Steve laughs, watches Eddie smile, his fingers twitching in his lap, his wrist twitches once, Steve's pretty sure it counts.

~°~

The second time he touches Eddie's hands, Eddie's just made them grilled cheese, his signature dish. And he's stitting in front of Steve, his chin resting in one hand, his other hand hidden under the table. He's watching as Steve chews his first bite.

"Weeeell?" He asks, impatient, as always. Steve makes a show of chewing slower, his eyes lifting to the ceiling as he hums, thinking. Eddie kicks at his shin under the table, his socked foot not hurting at all. Steve snorts, kicks back, and says,

"It's good. Really good. Best grilled cheese I ever had." He's serious, knows he sounds like he's teasing.

"Yeah? You like it? I didn't burn it? I mean I know you said you like them crispy but I thought maybe I got it too dark. Might have burnt it." Eddie rambles, and Steve just smiles, shakes his head.

"It's perfect, actually. You're a grilled cheese wizard. Or a... grilled cheese... bard. No I don't think that's a thing. Wizard applies more here, pretty sure." Steve says, waving off his own words like they're nonsense, looking toward the ceiling again to avoid Eddie's, no doubt, exasperated look.

But that's when he sees it.

His eyes are on their way to the ceiling when he sees Eddie's hand, flapping next to his thigh. Steve looks back to him, sees him beaming, and can't help himself when he reaches out and grabs Eddie's shaking hand.

But it's a mistake. He didn't know it would be. Didn't think. Had forgotten about that first day when Eddie had caught him staring and froze.

The smile drops off Eddie's face and he tugs his hand quickly away from Steve, hiding it in his lap, scooting back in his chair, away from Steve, his eyes on the table.

"Sorry. I can't- sorry." He stammers, shaking his head, his cheeks are red, his eyes darting around the table top as he curls in on himself, arms wrapped around his stomach protectively.

"What are you sorry for? You don't have to be sorry." Steve says, his voice soft, just a breath between them really. Eddie frowns, shakes his head again.

"No. It's annoying. I know it is. It just happens. I can't help it." Eddie's voice is firm, his words sound rehearsed, like he's said them a thousand times. It makes Steve's chest ache, with pain for Eddie, and with anger for whoever told him that any part of himself was annoying. Especially this part, a part of him that Steve is sure is pure joy, made visible, made tangible and expressive.

"It's not annoying." Steve says, and he sounds... mad? A little. But not at Eddie. Eddie's eyes snap up, lock on Steve's face, he doesn't blink.

"It's not." Steve reaffirms, one shake of his head. He moves his hand, slides it across the table top slowly, towards Eddie, and then turns it, palm up, waiting.

Eddie's eyes twitch from his face to his hand and back again. Steve smiles, small, and wiggles his fingers, gives Eddie a nod.

"C'mon. It's okay." He nods his head again, eyes dropping to his hand and then back to Eddie's face. Eddie swallows, sits a little straighter, unwraps his arms from his stomach. Steve sees his arms flex, knows Eddie is squeezing his thigh under the table, nervous. But then he moves, slowly brings his hand up, and places it in Steve's.

He sighs, the contact he's been waiting for finally made, Eddie's breathing is shakey as he watches Steve curl his fingers around his hand, pull it closer across the table.

"It's not annoying Eddie it's-" Steve pauses. Eddie frowns, a grimace really.

"Hey. No. I mean it. I like it." Steve says, and Eddie looks at him, his eyes moving back to their tangled hands over and over.

"You do?" He asks, and he sounds so fucking small. So unsure. So Steve does the only thing he can think of, he stands, drags Eddie to his feet as well, and then presses a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.

"I do. I really do. That's why I was staring." Steve says, breathes it against Eddie's hand, smiles when Eddie's fingers twitch against him.

"I'm sorry it made you uncomfortable. But it wasn't because I was annoyed. I promise you that. You believe me?" Steve ducks his head a little, tries to get Eddie to look at him, he's got his free hand up by his mouth, his nail worrying between his teeth. And Steve has to smile, can see Eddie thinking, trying to make sure he does, believe Steve. One moment more and Eddie nods, presses his lips together, and looks at Steve.

"I believe you." He says, teeth worrying into his lip.

"Good. So you- I mean you don't have to hide it. Around me. If you don't want. Cuz I meant what I said. I like it. A lot." Steve feels heat rush into his cheeks and closes his eyes, breathes against Eddie's knuckles for a moment before he looks back up to see Eddie smiling at him. Looking a little in awe. A little breathless.

"You like it that much?" His nose scrunches and Steve just want to fucking kiss him. He nods instead.

"Yeah. I really do. It's like you've got... I don't know... happy little bat wings. Just flapping around you when you're having a good time. I love it. I love-" Steve stops, the words caught in his throat, because that's too much. Maybe. For right now. But he feels it. Has felt it for Eddie for awhile now, the warmth of it humming beneath his skin when Eddie's near him.

Eddie's beaming at him now, tears shining in his eyes, he hides behind his hair, for just a second, before he darts forward, presses his lips to Steve's, a quick press, and then he's gone again, and the space between them is small but still too much.

"Sorry. I've never done that before." Eddie breathes. Steve watches something that could be fear, or regret, pass over Eddie's features like a shadow, and refuses to let it stay there, not even a second longer.

He drops Eddie's hand and cradles Eddie's neck, draws him closer, til their sharing breath.

"Stop apologizing. I want this. You." Steve whispers, pressing his forehead to Eddie's.

"I want you t-"

And Steve kissing him. Slow. Sweet. His hands holding Eddie close. Steve moves his tongue along Eddie's bottom lip, smiles into Eddie's mouth when he gasps, and then deepens the kiss, just so, tilting Eddie's head a little for a better angle. Eddie moans into his mouth, his hands scrambling to grab at Steve's back, clenching in his shirt and unclenching as Steve tilts his world on it's axis.

And then Steve feels it, Eddie's hands, tapping against his back, like he'd thought about since that first day, like he'd dreamed about, on several occasions. Too many to count.

Steve hums into Eddie's mouth, smiles against his lips, their teeth clicking together as Eddie smiles too, laughs into Steve's mouth, his breath filling Steve's lungs as they cling to each other.

See, Steve's not obsessed with Eddie's hands.

He just knew they'd feel perfect tapping out happy rhythms against his skin.

And for once, in his traumatic, full of bullshit life, Steve was right.

He's not obsessed with Eddie's hands.

But he does love them.

The way they move, and shake, and show all of Eddie's joys, wild, and uncontrolled.

And his to hold.

[shootingstarrfish]

shhh theyre stargazing :D

[tragedy-machine]

Dead boy detectives is SO GOOD at giving the viewer everything they could ever want!

I was watching it and constantly going "omg no way, another favorite trope of mine?" and "wow another great character??"

Just a few highlights:

-multiple people have a crush on your fave character, and he absolutely deserves it because he has an aura of someone who's never been loved in his life

-best boy and best girl characters become platonic best friends and have just the most amazing, wholesome friendship

-your fave is yearning and pining and gets constantly tortured by unforeseen circumstances and the object of his affection has to save him!!!!

[smittenskitten]

[ask19thcentury-doctorgilbert]

recently been consumed with the idea that the crux of most of gilbert's problems is that he's an immortal who never fully accepted the fact that he's immortal and he tends to approach things, especially personal issues, from a human perspective for better and for worse and this has absolutely fucked him up and is now also fucking his son up because ludwig is not and will never ever be a human child despite his father's best efforts to raise him as one in this essay i will-

[spookyboywhump]

Fun fact starting T made me nicer to Wren. Originally I imagined he would avoid telling Cain he had been on HRT because he simply wouldn’t have any reason to believe that Cain would get that for him somehow. Two months in for me and I was like. Okay maybe he will tell him and Cain will get him his hormones. As a treat.

[cream-and-tea]

this has been said before and better but enjoying horror while also having some paranoia shit going on in your brain is truly a special circle of hell. like no your honour i CANT watch this movie that’s been highly recommended and looks gorgeous and explores themes i love on account of. ummm. it’ll Get Me. thank u for understanding.

[coronangelic1]

maybe im really behind but did anyone ever made a hack. an apk. because i remember being in middle school fighting for my life losing 2 PA moving only for me to go nowhere in the story and dropping it after months of struggling

[z00r0p4]

Anyway I'd like to formally congratulate my 16 year old brother for bagging and kissing an SO before his 24 yr old older sister.

[animationismycomfort]

guys what if and hear me out instead of Donnie having a crush on April they just have a weird fascination with humans

[iii-days-grace]

The Father, the Bun, and the Holy Ghost

Hey! I don't have the spoons today to put this up and tag it on AO3 and/or Knotfic, but I wanted to post it anyway. I'll upload it there in a few days or whenever I have the time and energy.

In that case, consider this a sort of open beta reading :) Summary: Shawn and Sid get the munchies one night while on tour, and explore a new city to find a restaurant with an unusual theme.

Word Count: 1076

Rating: Gen

Characters: Sid Wilson, Shawn Crahan

Pairing: 0/6

The Father, the Bun, and the Holy Ghost

‘Sorry daddy, I’ve been -’

Shawn swats Sid from across the table. ‘That’s not the words. Here.’ He shoves a fry into his hand and pops the lid from off Sid’s drink. Not technically the right ritual either, but they’ll skip the confession shit for now. The food is hot, so state of grace be damned.

As he shifts he catches a whiff of pot stink from his jacket. They shared another joint on the way over so he knows they both have to stink at this point, all the smoke and sweat and probably other things liberated by the misty spring rain they had walked through to get here. Everything in this city closed early for some reason.

But this is a burger place somewhere close to midnight, who else is it open for anyway besides the stoners?

Probably not good Christian boys, even if weed was legal in this country. He thinks. He doesn’t have time to remember such things on tour. Nobody seems to be batting an eye about the smell of the Devil’s lettuce though, so they’re probably fine.

Something about the cocktail tickles his limbic system in a way that reminds him of evenings spent loitering behind the high school, bumming smokes off each other from friends and tucking butts inside their pockets to avoid leaving evidence.

Anyway, the stench that leaches off them still doesn’t mask the hot and crispy smell from off the trays. Thick-cut golden fries with skin, the burger bleeds that weird pink juice that isn’t blood, but sure looks like it — nothing like the anaemic grey things they usually manage to grab from a drive-through between shows.

‘Earth to Shawn?’ Sid’s still holding his fry between his fingertips like a joint, waiting.

‘Alright, alright. Now eat it.’ Shawn sloshes the open drink in one hand as he gestures. A few drops — (the blood of Christ, amen) — land on the buns, fries scattered around it like manna (don’t worry, I’ll pay. Let’s go. No, it’s not too far, we’ll walk, I’m starving.) Midnight, high school, hotel. Follow the fryer and grease smell inside.

Where were they again?

He shakes his head and floats himself back down to Earth, and listens to the ice crackling in his drink as he waits for the man across the table to finish chewing. Somewhere between one and thirty minutes later, Sid conquers the solitary little fry and grins.

‘Okay, now gimme the blood,’ he says, wiggling his fingers in a lazy impression of Count Dracula.

He pauses. ‘Wait, does this make us vampires? Holy shit, is Jesus a zombie?’ Sid whispers in horror — maybe dramatic, but maybe real if his high is anything like the one smoothing out Shawn’s frontal lobes.

Grabbing Shawn’s free hand, Sid peels his sparkling, bloodshot eyes open like he’s about to spill some big secret and over the table. Sid blinks, trying and mostly failing to focus, his eyes swimming a little as he’s distracted by the neon sign over Shawn’s shoulder.

Shawn’s facing away from the wall, but he can see the logo mirrored on the window, shimmering through the glazed reflection and backlit by the city lights beyond it.

‘Sidney.’

‘Are we cannibals?’

‘You’re not even Catholic. Do you want me to do it or not?’ Shawn asks. Goddamn zombie Jesus. He sighs. An argument for when they’re more baked, perhaps.

Not that they’re being proper about the thing anyway, but this isn’t much of a church either, let alone a cathedral, so who cares. Despite the topical verses printed on the cups and the cheeky golden calf by the tip jar (’alms for the poor’). In another life he might be able to remember what the verses are about, but currently his attention is doing double duty.

Shawn holds the drink to Sid’s face and gently backhands him again when he moves to pick it up. Sid gets the idea and lets Shawn hold the cup while he takes a sip, swishing it around in his mouth. He looks at Shawn expectantly.

‘That’s it?’

‘By the power vested in me by the state of Iowa, I now pronounce you cleansed of fast food sins. Heathen. Can we eat now?’

‘Can I have your pickle?’

‘What, your thirst hasn’t been slaked yet? Spiritually speaking of course. Don’t waste the blessing, or we’ll have to do it all over again.’ He laughs and shakes his head, and peels open his sandwich, plopping the vinegary wafer onto Sid’s plate.

‘You’re gross,’ he says.

‘Hey, fuck you, it was your weed.’

Sid tucks the evil green thing into the real lettuce and folds his burger back together. Shawn methodically snaps the lid back on his drink and unwraps his straw, squinting at the verse printed on the paper, something from Ecclesiastes. One of the nicer books of the thing, if he remembers correctly. He tucks the paper his pocket to look up in the bedside Bible back at the hotel.

They eat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights and the sizzle of fries cooking. Now and then the doorbell jingles as someone enters the restaurant. Sid bums the occasional fry from his plate; Shawn lets him. The high settles into his muscles as the food sits warm in his belly.

There's no clock in here, but the sound of the remaining ice cubes rattling as Sid finishes his drink bring him back to Earth again.

Sid taps his arm.

‘Hey, I saw a fried chicken place with a sexy chicken lady logo on the way here. Do you think that one’s themed like a strip club?’

Sure, why not? If a burger could be redeemed, chicken probably could too.

‘Let’s check it out. There’s a mini-fridge in the room for leftovers.‘

They clear their table and stack the trays on top of the bin. Shawn slips his jacket back on again as they go outside. As they open the door, in the distance, he fancies he hears the ring of a church bell.

‘I’ll buy,’ Shawn says, ‘but you owe me a joint for this one.’

Sid laughs and gently shoves into Shawn with his shoulder, hands in his pockets as they head back into the night.

‘Any time, dude. Any time.’

FINI

Ecclesiastes 9:7 - Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for God has already approved what you do.

[olgipolgi]

welcome to the family Samuel Blake 🖤

[cinnabeat]

man i remember when my mom was pregnant and i would go to her appts with her and id sit on the counter while my mom sat on the exam table and id just be like there

[sixlet]

last rb making a lotta things spin around up here

[pomefioredove]

need overblot boys with epel, and floyd with a reader that randomly lore drops as if they're an old dad like "yeah lol my old school had a shooting once....anyways *SNOREE*" and when asked they just agree and walk away and never elaborate whatsoever💀 if you feel uncomfortable feel free to delete or ignore‼️love ya pookie💥

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a reader with a backstory

I got u 🫡🫡

summary: wacky reader lore type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jamil, vil, epel, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

you find new ways to raise Riddle's blood pressure every day

little guy is worried enough as it is

you've already got your school work, taking care of Ramshackle, taking care of Grim, taking care of all the other freshmen, taking care of-

well... you get it

the last thing he needs is to hear another one of your stories

"oh, yeah, that's like the time I got stabbed"

"????? WHAT??"

what's entertaining to you and ADeuce is mortifying to Riddle

if you're not careful you'll end up sleeping on the floor in his room

where he can keep a close eye on you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you're like Leona's little court jester

and he takes you with him everywhere

it's not easy to get a genuine laugh out of him, after all

besides, what's so bad about a little dark humor? it's not like you died or anything

he knows you're a resilient little thing

and you seem to love telling him about "that time you crawled into a drainage pipe", anyway

you make him laugh; he likes you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul indulges you

his white noise machine stopped working last month and you make for excellent background ambience

so, he lets you talk yourself in circles about your school work, your friends, Grim, Grim again

and then you drop the most HEINOUS bombshells in the middle

"blah blah blah Grim, blah blah Crowley, blah blah, that one time I got lost in the woods for a day, blah blah-"

he loses his train of thought every time

now, Floyd is the complete opposite

he will hyperfocus on the most mundane details

and ignore the bombshells

will give you an, "oh, that's cool" to your ghost story but will find you the pair of socks you mentioned liking three months ago

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil is just fascinated by you

you as a person, of course

but also the fact that you're still alive

one night, he's explaining the reason he makes all of Kalim's food and you're like

"oh, yeah, I get it. I got mold poisoning once and hallucinated for a week"

?????

then you go right back to asking him about the recipe

sitting on the counter, as happy as could be

"HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE!!!"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil is used to this

he knows that look on your face

he will shush you with a finger to your lips before you even start

"don't tell me, I'm stressed enough as it is"

he's going to break out if you keep at it

he finds you quite... macabre

which is entertaining until he sees you going down a flight of stairs without holding onto the railing and remembers all those stories you'd told him

he's just... concerned for you, that's all

and he does NOT appreciate Epel for encouraging it

"tell us more about the time you fell down that hill into that pile of rocks, Prefect!"

:D

like a kid in a candy store

learning new Lore is like the highlight of his week

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"talk about having a high luck stat..."

Idia is more entertained than anything

he thought these kinds of things only happened in anime, but...

...there you are

it sounds like you experience more in a single month than he has in his whole life

and you know what?

GOOD

you can keep your freaky real-world experiences!

he'll just live vicariously through you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Malleus

he's been putting so much effort into learning and blending with human culture, and now here you are with your terrifying stories

you tell him in such earnest, too

you seem so... unbothered by it

perhaps humans are less fragile than he thought?

of course, he shouldn't have underestimated you in the first place :)!

then you come over for dinner one night

"hahah, yeah, last time I was at someone's house their grandma threw a lamp at my head and I got a concussion"

Silver and Sebek both go >_>

Lilia goes <_<

and then Malleus is there like, "ah, another fascinating tale :)"