#sorry i didn't mean to get into it that much in the tags

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-week.

All Hours

Day #1 - Prompt: Secret Relationship | Word Count: 1125 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Steve | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Steve & Wayne

Steve parks outside of the trailer park and walks in. Careful to avoid the streetlights and the corners where there are known yapping dogs.

He approaches Eddie's window on the back side of the new trailer, and moves to push open the screen, to let himself inside without waking up Eddie, or Wayne. He just hikes his foot up into the sill when he's startled. 

"We do have a front door, you know," comes the lazy drawl, and Steve nearly jumps out of his skin, heart hammering wildly in his chest. He tries to suck in a breath, gripping the edge of the window frame, finally looking over at Wayne as he sits on the back steps, cigarette burning between his fingers.

"I'm sorry," Steve says, taking a step back from the house, pulling the window closed, putting some distance between himself and the room where Eddie is surely sleeping.

Eddie sleeps all the time these days. The doctors swear it's just part of his healing process, the recovery, but Steve still worries. All the time. Everyday. It's impossible not to. Eddie's healed so slowly, after being so close to death, that Steve's terrified he'll never fully recover.

"C'mere, kid," Wayne says, and pats the step beside him. 

Steve goes, but is a little wary. Wayne and him haven't really spent that much time together, they were just ships passing in the night while Eddie was in the hospital. Each taking their turn, and then handing the baton off to the other.

Steve sits down, and folds his hands in his lap.

"I know you've been sneaking in and out of his window during all hours of the day and night, for, well, months now," Wayne says, just barely above a murmur. 

"I'm sorry. I just worry about him," Steve says, and that's the truth. Most of it, anyway. 

There have been a couple quick, tentative kisses, but that's it. Eddie isn't strong enough for anything else, definitely nothing as tawdry as Wayne seems to be implying. It's pretty innocent, this thing they've got going. 

Steve's snuck in a lot of windows in his lifetime, but none compare to crawling over the sill of Eddie's window, and onto the chair Eddie now leaves there to ease Steve's entrance. None have been as chaste as this either. Steve's never spent months pursuing someone, hell, loving someone, that he didn't win over.

Even Robin, he counts as a win. It's platonic love, for sure, but he worked his Harrington charm on her, and got her to love him.

"I know you worry, but we have a front door. You're welcome to use it. Day or night," Wayne says, low and almost too soft to hear, even in the still of the night.

"Oh," Steve says, like this hadn't been something he'd ever considered, and honestly, it hasn't been, "okay."

"Okay," Wayne agrees, and he digs in his shirt pocket and fishes out a single key on a ring. "Here. So I can lock it. I worry about him, about someone coming after him again. And I wanted to put better locks on all the windows, but Eddie protested. Any idea why?" Wayne asks, and it's playful, in a very dry way.

Steve laughs, reaching out and taking the key, closing his hand around it, tight.

"Okay, I'll come through the door."

"Thank you," Wayne says.

"And I'll help with the window locks. If you want," Steve offers, and Wayne nods, like he's accepting this offer.

Now, Steve isn't sure if he should get up and leave, or keep sitting, or what. He stays.

"I don't care, you know," Wayne finally says.

"Don't care?" Steve questions, wanting him to clarify. 

"If you boys are more than friends," Wayne says, and Steve hadn't expected it.

"Oh," Steve breathes out.

"He's my boy, and I want him to be happy. Whatever that means for him," Wayne explains and Steve suddenly feels like his eyes are burning.

He wishes his dad would be as invested in his happiness as Wayne clearly is about Eddie's.

"Thank you," Steve says, "it's…nothing, not really. We're just friends."

Wayne turns to look at him, and grins, "If you say so."

Steve feels like he's lying, even if he isn't. Not really.

"But we could be more than that, maybe, someday. When he's feeling better. Maybe, if he's interested in that," Steve rambles.

Wayne smiles, takes a deep drag on his cigarette, and blows it up into the night sky, "Oh, he's definitely interested. Steve Harrington this, Steve Harrington that. Let me tell you. I've heard your name more in the past few months than I've heard my own."

Steve laughs at that, unexpected and far too loud, and it doesn't take long before Eddie's bedroom window is being shoved open, his head popping out. His hair is a mess, tangled and frizzy, but he's on his feet, and that's a damn good look on him.

It's a beautiful sight. But he always is.

"What? Are you two having fun without me?" Eddie asks, like he's not at all surprised to see them together. Like this whole sneaking through the window thing wasn't a top secret operation.

Was it not a secret?

Steve turns back towards Wayne, "How long have you known I was coming through the window?"

"Since the first night," Wayne admits, "I heard you floundering in, and came to the door to check on him, but I heard Eddie laughing, so I knew he was okay. I asked him in the morning who was making such a racket, and he said it was you."

Steve laughs at himself, apparently he was trying to be stealthy for Eddie's benefit, but they weren't on the same page.

"C'mon in, Harrington. Henderson brought over some new tapes earlier," Eddie says, and Steve stands.

Wayne nods his head towards the back door, "It's unlocked. But your key will work there, too."

And Steve pulls it open, heading towards Eddie's room. Eddie is back in bed, propped up, remote in hand for the VCR Steve had set up in Eddie's room months ago, thinking they'd get better use out of it here, than Steve would at home, these days.

Steve settles next to him, "What do we got tonight?"

"Back to the Future, have you seen it?" Eddie asks.

"Only while very drugged by the Russians," Steve admits, "it'll be nice to see it again."

Steve's sure there's no chance Eddie will stay awake for an entire movie, but he'll be happy to sit with him, no matter what.

"You're so weird, Harrington," Eddie says, but it sounds affectionate, and Steve will take it, as Eddie leans his head on Steve's shoulder.

"Yeah, well. Back at ya, Munson."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-week and follow along with the fun!

[solarnomoon]

ice ice baby - park sunghoon

the first time you went ice skating you almost fell. thankfully a taller guy was there to catch you. surprise surprise, of course it had to be sunghoon, king of the school, ice prince, whatever.

pairing >>> sunghoon x male reader

tags >>> college au, fluff, strangers to friends to more than friends (lovers?), ice skating, falling, idfk, sunghoon being a little forward

author's note >>> LOL hello i apologize for dying. i realize how much i miss this account and ive just been itching to come back so here i am

you knew coming to the ice rink was a mistake to begin with. i mean, come on, your ass was a fucking ice skating virgin: you'd never been before, so why would you even bother starting now?

alas, your best friend had stayed up all night watching yuzuru hanyu videos and all of a sudden, he felt the urge to begin ice skating, compelling you that it's "a calling" and if you guys didn't "drive to partake in the artistic media form that is ice skating" then you'd "lose the individuality that the human spirit guides us with."

...whatever that means.

at least he paid for you! a win's a win sometimes.

"c'mon y/n, you have to get off the railing at some point!" sunoo calls to you, skating in reverse to watch you. the edge had become your safety net, allowing you to actually move somewhat on the ice. sunoo on the other hand had somehow become a pro within the 15 minutes since you guys arrived, being able to skate forwards, backwards, eyes closed, anything possible. he even started gaining an understanding of how to spin, and was attempting to learn how to execute an axel.

you were still just trying to walk normally, not knowing how to know the difference between skating and walking. "sunoo, unfortunately i cannot let go of this fucking railing or i will die."

the boy just laughs at you, eyes rolling back. "you're exaggerating, just let go for one second!" you watch as he leaves you, gliding along the ice as if it was simply made for him.

building up the confidence, you finally stray away from the railing, letting go of your one protection spell from you upright and you on the floor. as you float along the ice, you feel that sense of freedom that sunoo was pestering you about, and you speed up, the skates on your feet becoming an outlet for your vitality.

but unfortunately, you were not yuzuru hanyu, nor were you kim sunoo. you misplace one foot, causing an imbalance in your body. you knew this was it. in front of all of these people, atleast 4 500 for sure, you were going to literally eat shit and die.

as you begin to fall, you brace for impact and close your eyes, but the collapse never happens, and instead, you feel someone's body holding yours, catching the impending descent to the ice.

"you okay?" the guy asks, and only after he said it was when you opened your eyes and looked up at him. though it takes you a moment, a flash of recognition eventually appeared in your brain. park sunghoon. king of the ice, king of the school. the renowned ice prince, the ice skater that competed in the olympics. "oh, y/n. are you okay?"

"y-yeah, sorry," you cover your face with your hands, muttering under your breath, "oh my god i almost died."

apparently it was in fact, not under your breath, because this gets a snicker out of the man, responding to you, "you did not almost die. maybe fall, but death is too much." he grabs you by the arm and skates you both toward the edge again, allowing you to grasp onto your lifeline once more.

"thank you, sunghoon. i'm sorry again for... i don't know. maybe it was a good thing, now you know that i'm shit at ice skating, i don't know how you do this." you observe him with your full attention now, noticing how he's dressed in a basic outfit with a beanie and headphones as if he knew that this would be a simple activity for him. not only this, but he has sunglasses on, presumably to hide his demeanor: he's kind of a celebrity around here.

"it's alright y/n, i told you already. plus, you're not that bad. you're just... learning." he seems like the last part was an afterthought, and you assume that he was going to say something more negative before changing his wording. "are you here alone?"

"nah, i'm here with sunoo. what about you?"

he flashes a quick smile, lifting his sunglasses to make eye contact with you. when he does, you look at his face closely, and realize he really is as cute as people say. you never really cared to notice him, as to you, he was just some guy that happened to have an expertise in ice skating. seeing him up close, you understand why people could develop crushes: his face was perfectly symmetrical with the only thing varied was the mole on his nose, but he has an extremely aesthetic face. his body was also perfect, broad shoulders with a smaller waist.

huh.

"just here alone. now i'm with you. so not alone." when he smiles, you could see how cute he really is, his fangs on both sides of his teeth accentuate his cuteness, offering a tinge of fierceness if he was focused. you both stare at each other for seconds too long, neither of you wanting to break the gaze. eventually, he looks away, saying to you, "wanna see something cool?" obviously you nod, and you watch as he skates away, accelerating before jumping right into a double axel, landing gracefully before coming right back to you.

you clap quickly, not wanting to let go of the edge for too long, "wow, impressive! i could do that too probably."

"oh yeah, cause you're like the best skater right? i think i've watched your videos before online." he motions a rectangle in front of him like a screen, "y/n l/n, triple axel, into a hydroblade, ending with two flying spins."

you scoff, flicking your wrist in front of him. "you know it bro, real recognizes real."

"for real." he looks at you with a straight face before bursting into laughter. "you're pretty funny you know, i'm surprised we haven't talked much before."

you scratch your head, "well, it's pretty hard when you're just the coolest, bestest, sexiest, beast of a skater." you joke with him.

"you think that of me?" he asks, one fang turning visible as he smirks.

"i was actually talking about me, thank you very much."

he hits his head in faux stupidity, smile not faltering from his face however. "oh, silly me. i should've known, like you said."

"what did i say?"

"real recognizes real." he removes his gaze from you to check his watch quickly before looking back at you. "you know, it's getting pretty late for a guy like you."

you whip your phone our from your back pocket. "sunghoon, it's literally 5:32 in the p.m. i can literally see the sun still."

he laughs awkwardly, "well, still late for a pretty boy like you."

"p-pretty?" you stare at him, wondering whether or not he meant to tell you that or not. "what are you talking about dude?"

"i said what i said. i meant that it's late, the ring closes at 6 today because of some hockey players wanting to run scrims before their tournament," sunghoon explains, leaning on the railing next to you. "i'm probably gonna leave soon anyway, so maybe you and sunoo can join me in getting dinner? if you want of course, i don't know if you have plans already."

"honestly, me and sunoo are supposed to get dinner with just each other, so maybe-" you begin to tell him, but then you notice sunoo talking to his crush on the other side of the ring, and a second later a text from said boy shows up.

[5:34 PM]

ALERT. CODE BLUE.

OK LOWKEY I REALIZE U DONT KNO WHAT THAT MEANS WEVE NEVER DONE CODES ANYWAY ICU TALKING TO SUNGHOON SO GO HANG OUT WITH HIM I WILL HANG OUT WITH MY MANSSSSSS XOXOXOOXO

"-you know what? let's get dinner. sunoo is actually busy all of a sudden." you roll your eyes when you make eye contact with sunoo, him giving you two thumbs up and a cheeky smile as his crush types something down on his phone.

"perfect. i wanted it to just be us. maybe i'll kidnap you and put you in my basement." the confusion on your face must've been evident, because he immediately follows up with "i was kidding. let's just get dinner." with that, he leaves you once again, skating around the rink with a few more tricks before coming back to you, signaling for you to follow him.

you do, getting out of the rink walking along the edge before sitting down next to him. you reach over to untie your laces, before sunghoon ushers you back, simultaneously getting on his knees in front of you, holding your right skate in front of him. "what are you doing?"

"untying your skate, why?"

"i can do it myself, you know?" you look straight into his eyes, tilting your head slightly.

"pretty boys shouldn't have to do anything," he suggests before giving you a little wink, causing you to turn away, not able to meet his eyes after his stupid flirtatious comment.

"w-well, what about you then!"

he removes your skate before moving on to the next one. "oh, so you think i'm a pretty boy huh? good to know." he unlaces your other skate before sitting down next to you, untying his own with haste. it clearly comes from experience, because it's no less than 15 seconds before he's up again, grabbing his sneakers, along with your own to your surprise. "here. so you don't have to get up."

"how do you know what my sneakers look like?"

"i saw you come in."

you lightly hit his shoulder. "so you were watching me the whole time?"

"cute boys deserve attention, wouldn't you say so?"

he goes back down to your feet and signals to put on your sneakers again. "i mean yeah but... you? finding me cute? hard to believe i guess."

"can't be that hard," you allow him to finish tying both shoes before helping him off the ground. you didn't even notice but he also had switched shoes with dexterity, leading you to wonder how much experience he has with these kind of things. "i've been watching you for a while honestly." he waves with his hands in front of you. "not like that, but more of like you're kinda like my school crush in a way."

you can't believe your ears. park sunghoon, king of the school, ice fucking prince, had a hallway school crush on you? y/n l/n. you didn't even feel like you stood out that much, just wanted to get your degree and leave. "school crush? there's just no way." you begin to walk away, not being able to face him without embarrassment flushing your face.

however, he clearly had other plans. "y/n." he grabs your arm, forcing you to look up at him. his eyes bore into yours, keeping you in a trance as you look at his face. "you're one of the cutest guys i've ever seen in my entire life. and i've seen a lot of people in my life already. please, just trust me when i say this."

and that was all the validation you needed. "oh. okay sunghoon. i trust you."

"good boy. now let's go get dinner, alright?"

and with that, he led you to his car to drive to dinner.

maybe the ice prince wasn't so cold after all.

[barleyo]

Hiiii I just read your Daryl fox and omfg I’m frothing at the mouth. HOLY HELL. Anyway I was wondering if you could write another age gap Daryl fic. Maybe this time younger reader has a (very obvious) crush on Dixon. He likes to tease reader and make her blush/ flustered…maybe it eventually leads to some really degrading sex. SORRY I’m so thirsty for this man

Not So Secret.

Modern! Neighbor! Daryl Dixon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: please don't apologize for being thirsty for him, because if you're thirsty then i'm downright DEHYDRATED for him :'3 i'm so in love with him!!! like!!! nasty yucky old man!!! who fucks so good and loves younger girls!!! need him fr!! this isn't super plot heavy, sorry for that! hope you like it @dilfismz <3

Tags: age gap (18-19 ish and mid-forties), dub-con, a bit of degradation, public sex, slight name calling, p in v, fingering, overstim

Wordcount: 1k

You must have thought you were so sneaky. That, or you must have thought Daryl was blind. He would have to be to not notice how you stared at him. How you were always conveniently outside in your yard when he was leaving for work was not lost on him. He knew exactly what you were doing when you left your bedroom curtains wide open when you got changed. 

It was cute, in a way, but it also pissed him off a little that you were brave enough to do all of that, but not enough to talk to him. You were such a skittish little thing, such a tease. 

His breaking point came when you decided to leave your windows and curtains open one night, giving him the opportunity to listen to your moans when you slipped your hands under your panties and played with yourself.  He took it upon himself to approach you about your little schemes, ready to get you out of that shell of yours. 

The next day was one of the rare ones where he got home from work at the same time that you came home from classes at the local college. Daryl shifted off of his motorcycle once he parked, leaning against it while he waited for you to get out of your car. Once you did, he crossed over the invisible like that separated the two front yards, clearing his throat to get your attention.

Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of him. "You're off early, Mr. Dixon," you noted, scanning over his well-worn clothes, stains from dirt, oil, and who knows what else marked over them. He may have looked grimy to others, but to you, he looked his best after work.

"Daryl," he corrected, "and yeah, didn't have much to do today. Actually, I need to talk to you." He pocketed his hands, eyes lazily trailing over your body.

"Oh? About what?" You shifted on your feet, feeling warm at the feeling of his prying gaze. 

"Do you think I'm fuckin' stupid?" His tone wasn't rough or aggressive, simply questioning.

You were taken aback, unsure of what to say. "What?"

"Do you think that I can't tell you're trying to drive me crazy on purpose? I might be old, but I'm not blind, girl." 

"D—doing what? I don't mean to," you said, knowing that's exactly what you were trying to do.

"Don't play dumb," he warned, stepping into your yard and leaning his face close to yours. "One look at you tells me y'know what you're doing. Shame on you, leading a guy on 'n lying right in his face." His handed ghosted one of your hips, just barely passing over it. "Little tease," he said with a scoff, seeing your face twist in embarrassment. 

"I'm not!" You leaned into his touch, urging him to keep his hand anchored on your hip. "I'm just— just nervous, you know?"

"I make you nervous?" Daryl's hands continued to travel your body, landing on your ass to pull you closer to him. "Good. That'll make this more fun." 

The hot metal of your car's hood stung your back slightly, but the sting was overpowered by the feeling of finger's curling into you. It made up for the hot discomfort. The humiliation that came with being fucked in public, however, was hard for you to get over. Daryl's other hand was used to cover your mouth, muffling your whines.

"You must want to get caught," he said, eyebrows knitted together. "You're so damn loud, the whole neighborhood could  hear you if I moved my hand." 

Daryl scissored your hole open further, spreading his fingers that fit comfortably inside. He was nice enough to prep you, but cruel enough to overstimulate you. You had already creamed around his fingers twice, just for the power trip it gave him. Evil bastard. 

He could feel you start to squeeze around his fingers again, but this time he pulled them out, stealing your orgasm away from you. His satisfied smirk taunted you. 

"Why did you stop?" you asked once he finally moved his hand from your mouth. "I was almost there, so close!"

"Wow, do you really need to cum again?" Daryl undid his belt buckle, chuckling dryly. "You're a needy thing. Like a damn whore, jus' wanting more 'n more from me." 

He pinched your clit softly, wanting to hear you squeak again. 

"You're so mean," you whined, shutting your legs together to stop him from pinching your sensitive bud again. 

Daryl let his eyes roll at your dramatics, pulling you to the edge of the car's hood by your hips. He grunted and pushed his length into you roughly, stretching out your walls. You bit back a moan, not wanting to alert anyone to what was happening. When you felt his cock finally enter all the way in, knocking against your sore g-spot, you leaned your head back on the car's windshield for stability. 

He was ruthless with his pace, he was far too pent up to take it slow with you. 

"Been waitin' so long for this," he grunted through clenched teeth. "Missed having pussy like this."

He gripped his hands into your hips, fingers digging into them while he pulled you back and  forth by them, slamming into you harshly. Slick coated the insides of your thighs and dripped onto the hood of your car every time he pulled out, slowly leaking out of you like a faucet.

"You were jus' what I needed, a sweet, stupid little doll," he said, sharply inhaling. 

You clamped tightly over him for a final time, sucking him in deeper than he was used to. The flutter of your cunt sent Daryl over the edge, milking him for all he was worth. 

He pulled out, running his eyes over how swollen and full he had left you. A small prideful feeling lit in his chest. He still had it in him, fucking was still his specialty. 

"Wait, where are you going?" you huffed, seeing him tuck his dick back into his pants. Before you could protest any further, you felt him pull you up and drag you by the hand.

"I'm not done with you, girl. It's getting too dark out to see. My house or yours?"

[ldrfanatic]

slytherin boys at ttpd songs - the anthology

part two of the first part featuring only the added songs from the anthology

I forgot tags im sorry!!

slytherin boys my bookcase

mattheo riddle as... the black dog

"old habits die screaming" + "And remember how my rain soaked body was shaking. Do you hate me?" + "For a cruel fraternity, I pledged, and I still mean it." + "Now I wanna sell my house and set fire to all my clothes. And hire a priest to come and exorcise my demons."

explanation - following the war, I think that mattheo would have the hardest time out of all of them. Not because of being voldemort's son (I think he's used to the looks he gets from that). I think he has the worst time because of all of them, he has mad survivor's guilt. how is it that all of those good people died, and him, pledged deatheater, got to live? on top of that, mattheo is still wrestling with the trauma that his father inflicted on him. So, when a ministry member comes to begrudgingly tell him that he's inherited an estate from his father (really an estate his father stole from one of his followers), mattheo is actually sickened. He really does not want that property and cannot stand to be in that house. (he does eventually accept it and then donate it to an orphanage for magical children. there's a hopeful part of him that thinks that if his father hadn't been treated so poorly by muggle orphanages when he was a kid that maybe he could've been a better person).

draco malfoy as... cassandra

"When it's burn the witch they're shrieking, when the truth comes out it's quiet" + "twisting all my smiles into snarls" + "they say what doesn't kill you makes you aware, what happens if it becomes who you are?" + "bloods thick but nothing like a payroll"

explanation - out of everyone in the series, explicit, canon, and otherwise, draco was the one that saw the best and the worst of both sides. when he was growing up, he was always taught the value behind being a pureblood. that it was blood purity that determined a person's worth. their value. but a lot of that changed when he started seeing the ugly sides of the malfoy family. by the time he realized that his father was little more than voldemort's lackey (and not even the most important one), it was too late. his father had already molded him. the bright and happy kid that he once was had started to sneer at all of his friends. he no longer felt like it was a service to the magical community to finger out mudbloods in his classes to his parents. afterall, he also quickly realized that his father cared far more for money and power than he ever really cared about purity. he was just a number on a payroll.

theodore nott as.... how did it end?

"and so a touch that was my birth right became foreign" + "it's happening again, the empathetic hunger descends" + "lost the game of chance, what are the chances?" + "leaving me bereft and reeling, my beloved ghost and me, sitting in a tree, d-y-i-n-g"

explanation - the sympathetic looks started when theo's mother died in fourth year, and theo decided that he absolutely hated them. He didn't want people to look at him like that, or to walk on eggshells like they were constantly in fear of saying the wrong thing. then once word got out that his father beat him, he started keeping to himself. it was easier to avoid conversation all together than to try to explain the bruises when everyone already pitied him for his mother's death. what hurt the most, was that his mother had died so unexpectedly. to a disease that killed less than 100 people a year. the odds were in her favor, and she still lost. then theo lost too. what hurt just as much, was the way that his father changed after his mother died. the way that every little thing seemed to set him on a warpath. when he was a kid, theo loved his parents, and now, it felt like when he lost his mother, his father died too. one man, two ghosts, and theo.

enzo berskhire as... the manuscript

"and the years passed like scenes of a show" + "looking backwards, might be the only way to move forward" + "and the tears fell, in synchronicity with the score, and at last, he knew what the agony had been for" + "the only thing that's left is the manuscript"

explanation - lorenzo berkshire had loved history his whole life. where his friends found the subject bore them to tears, lorenzo found it a bittersweet interest. afterall, he'd never been that good at potions, always doing something wrong, and while he could hold himself steady on a broom, he was never going to be a quidditch star. history was easy. it felt natural. to divulge in the stories of the witches and wizards before him. following the war, a lot of death eaters wanted to move past it all. they wanted to forget. but lorenzo knew that it was important. that as hard as it was and as many tears as it may cause them, that they had to understand before they could progress, and the only way to understand was to look backwards. so, he made it his personal mission in his late twenties to record. he traveled all over europe for nearly thirty years gathering stories from death eaters of all ages and backgrounds. at nearly age fifty, he published his first and only book, echoes of the damned: the untold stories of former death eaters. unfortunately, he fell ill and died before he got the chance to see the impact his words made on the wizarding world.

[spkyscry]

People who think comedic moments or levity of that nature is a failure of a creator's understanding of horror, I feel, fail to understand horror on a foundational level.

[cometshift]

predisasters

[lucy-ghoul]

why are you, as an adult in 2024, still hung up on reylo. why are you still mocking the shippers. why do you believe yourself to be superior only because you dislike a stupid ship from a fucking space fairytale. girl (gnc) get a grip

[essektheylyss]

I know you said you need to stop screaming first but I am EAGERLY awaiting your thoughts on Essek in the teaser

OKAY OKAY HERE GOES.

The thing is, there's no real reason to include him.

Yes, he's very popular, but he has never historically been included as a default, validly! He occupies a very interesting space mechanically and narratively, but he is still not a PC. Yes, he's part of the Mighty Nein as a group, per canon, but not until the end, which in theory would be well beyond the first season, and so is Cad, who is not present in this teaser—presumably to preserve the mystery around [INSERT MAJOR SPOILER WARNING HERE].

I would imagine that Cad is not present because having Taliesin's voice twice is too much of a tipoff for anyone watching LoVM but not the campaigns, whereas simply having Matt voice someone is not.

HOWEVER.

There are a decent number of lines that you could choose for Essek that are about the Nein—personally, my favorite, that I've thought previously would make a really stellar trailer line, is from 124: "You certainly carve a unique destiny, don't you?" Everything down to the way Matt delivers it (which you can see here) would make it a really viable option.

But the line they went with isn't about the Nein—it's very much a line about Essek himself. "I want to unlock these mysteries. I want to dive as deep as I can into that ocean of the unknown and see what is possible." It's a line that is very specific to Essek and his actions and goals, even beyond his involvement with the Nein.

And it's placed in the middle of the pack, which frames him on the same level as the rest of the Nein! Someone who is not familiar with the campaign would hear that as simply another protagonist. But of course, he's not—unless there is some serious restructuring (more even than the restructuring present in LoVM, which, aside from introducing a few of the initial less plot-bearing aspects later, like the Slayer's Take, it's thus far structured in order), he won't come into the show for quite some time, and almost certainly not in the first season.

But we don't really have any idea how this show will be structured. There are different comments on the beginning from different sources; notably, Gizmodo mentions Calianna being present in some way initially, while no one else does. The logline most outlets are reporting revolves the Nein "prevent[ing] the kingdom from plunging into chaos when an arcane artifact capable of reshaping reality falls into the wrong hands," presumably the beacon (my beloved).

So it makes sense to mention Essek, for, you know, the obvious reasons, as comment on the beacon itself. (I'm going to guess they're simplifying it to one beacon, per the press release, for ease lol.) But this line, while about dunamancy as a whole and the powers of the beacon, is not about it directly. It's still about Essek's interest in it. It is an excellent line, and on its face, it has nothing to do with the Nein or the plot of the first fifty episodes of the campaign.

There's plenty of speculation to be done about how this might be structured, and I'm sure I'll do plenty of it because, let's be honest, I do not shut up about adaptation and translating stories between formats, it is one of my absolute favorite subjects, and this is the Nein, babey!!!

So my point here being: I think there is a lot of room with the nature of Wildemount politics to get a little wild with structure in the translation from D&D game to TV show that, while not impossible in LoVM, wouldn't really have added anything to the story, and honestly, might've taken away from it. Because the point is to watch Vox Machina become the big damn heroes! We do see tidbits of Brimscythe and the Briarwoods beyond the purview of the heroes, but mostly in ways that feel very '80s cartoon villain cameo' which fits the feel of the show perfectly.

But there are a lot of political players and forces in Wildemount that the Nein navigate whether they're aware of them or not, one of whom of course becomes a member of their party, and that's part of what makes their story so interesting. The Nein are the heroes that no one knows, who are always playing within and against the system and are hyper aware of that, and I think expanding how much of that we get to see now that the format allows for it (not necessarily a lot, not to the point of adding whole plotlines, but at least some of it) would only add to the tension and stakes, and Essek's presence in the trailer makes me wonder if they will.

[ruvviks]

PAGE 04 – BLUEBERRY MUFFIN.

preview ✧ download

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if you have any questions or run into problems, please read the known issues & quick fixes section at the top of the code. if that doesn't help you, feel free to send me an ask off anon or a dm, preferably with screenshots of the issue!

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[pocketramblr]

Dash simulator

Blog 1: lol anyone else seeing a lot of strawberries in new recipes now? sometimes its fun but i really dont get the appeal of adding it to everything. why did you make strawberry garlic bread

Blog 2: u kno im not a fan of strawberries, i really like the rich sweet and sour notes from oranges, oranges and chocolate is such a good combo. i altered a recipe for a smoothie with oranges last week and it was soooo good ill give you my notes if you want Reblogged by: Blog 1: ahaha yesss i love chocolate and oranges

Blog 3: I canNOT believe the hate im seeing to strawberries right now, like, you know guys know the rule don't like don't bake right?? you know you can hit the back button right?? honestly what's wrong with yall

Open draft- wait guys you know there's a difference between leaving a comment on a recipe saying you hate strawberries and the recipe writer should never use them, and going to your own blog to say you don't really like strawberries, without naming any specific people or recipes right? you know there's a difference right?? - Save - Post - Discard

Draft discarded

Blog 4: why is everyone jumping on the strawberry hate train right now. what is wrong with you. Reblogged by: Blog 5: I knowwww like guys some people stop baking because of reading things like that, please stop it, if you don't like strawberries you can be quiet about it

Open draft- im so sorry if anyone's getting sent mean messages or comments about what they're writing and baking, but i'm literally not seeing any of that and if you are, please use the block button. but someone making a post on their own blog is not that, and if you can't see the irony in you being allowed to complain on personal blogs but not them i can't help you... - save- post- discard

Draft discarded

Blog 2: are strawberries even in season?

Blog 6: woo cherry pie!

[herrmit]

not to start shit but. tell me you didn't understand princess jellyfish without telling me you didn't understand princess jellyfish

[bringitfine]

im about to be such a stupid hater but as an aromantic person i hate the httyd 3 ending.

[butterflieswhisper]

hhelp wait this is so funny. didnt you follow me forever ago after a scott themed october song analysis . sorry if you dont remember that and this ask doesnt make sense but this is still funny to me

hi!!!! yeah. it was the cherri crane lives art i think and also where you made your flower husbands tag! I have never really interacted with fh outside of you (and like, seeing pretty fanart) but i am nonetheless deeply invested in your interpretation specifically!!! I honestly haven't watched jimmy outside of rats and the beginning of empires2 either i genuinely have no clue what they get up to you just seem to have a lot of fun with it

[coldshrugs]

see you in the morning

pairing: io laithe / estinien varlineau word count: 2k note: endwalker spoilers. io is not handling things well :') you'll never guess who goes to comfort her :o)

Old Sharlayan holds its breath.

Most nights, the chilly island city continues its quiet bustling straight through to morning. Scholars drift from early-evening lectures to late-night research clubs or public laboratories, babbling excitedly about the latest research, innovation, or gossip. Those with less rigid schedules wander to the nearest patch of grass or unused table at the Last Stand with a pile of books in tow. Structured or lax, their perpetual search for knowledge is the very heartbeat of the city. But tonight, the pulse has all but stopped.

The lack of bubbling chatter and foot traffic casts an eerie pall over the city. It reaches all the way down to Scholars’ Harbour, where Io sits alone, on one of the long stone piers reaching out into the sea.

Thousands of people huddle in their homes with friends and loved ones as they wait for daylight, and for the Ragnarok’s first–and only–flight.

The weight of their expectation is suffocating.

Waves murmur against the stone below, the only sound save the few foreign sailors on the next pier over, bound to their work regardless of the state of the world. Neither is loud enough to distract her racing mind.

Io pulls her knees to her chest, cursing the inability to become as small as she feels. Every soul on this star, whether they know it or not, is now her responsibility, an obligation that echoes back to a time beyond time. And she chose it. Before she even knew it was her burden to carry, she chose it. She chooses it, because who else would? Who else could bear it? Is it not enough that her loved ones must sacrifice so much due to proximity and circumstance? It has to be her, for she would not wish this on anyone else.

If only she could curl into herself completely. Tightly enough to blink out of existence, like a dark singularity.

She’d take everything else with her.

There’s no resolution in that line of thinking.

Somewhere out there, in the expanse, is the replication of a little girl with a very human soul–perhaps not fractured, as the souls of those on the Source and its shards, but something that was never allowed to be whole. Why wouldn’t annihilation be Meteion’s answer to dead world after dead world? It must seem like kindness to a being who has never experienced adversity. 

Tears, injury, death: Io has suffered through–and dealt–her fair share of them all. What pain has Meteion seen that Io has not lived?

Her hands ball into fists, nails digging into her palms. She feels manic, unable to rein in the oscillation between anger, guilt, and fear. There is the urge to scream, or cry, or drop into the frigid water below and swim and swim and swim.

But a figure moves at the edge of her vision, walking briskly in her direction.

Now another feeling begs to be acknowledged. Relief? Endearment? A mixture of both at being found, and by him, perhaps.

Still, against her threadbare senses, this feels like an ambush.

Estinien says nothing as he approaches. His steps slow as if trying not to scare a wounded animal. He offers an awkward smile. Io tries to mirror it, hoping he sees a shred of warmth in the tight purse of her lips.

He is handsome in this light, in his half-laced boots and untucked shirt billowing in the chilly coastal wind. The world is ending, and she can’t help noticing his beauty. It’s ludicrous.

“Who sent you?”

His short huff resembles a laugh. “I need a motive to check on you?” When she doesn’t answer, he sighs. “Y’shtola saw you down here from the Annex. She and Thancred thought to come, but I asked them to stay. Everyone’s turning in for the night. I thought you might appreciate the less intrusive option.”

“By all means, intrude. Once the solitude is broken, it hardly matters by whom.”

His brow knits as he studies the carved stones that make up the pier. He turns, shifting his weight. She can feel him wondering if this was unwise.

“I’m sorry, that was unkind. I’m just… overwhelmed–” Io takes a deep breath, embarrassed by the confession before she makes it– “and afraid. Please don’t go.”

Estinien sways in her periphery, stepping closer before squatting beside her. He looks out into the quiet marina, carefully avoiding her half-slumped form. False privacy, but she’ll take the small mercy.

“You needed to get away. I can understand that.”

“I couldn’t breathe in there. Everyone is watching me. They look at me like I’m dying, or like I’m killing them myself.”

“For every person placing blame at your feet, ten others believe in this asinine plan. As I do.”

“You think we can do it? Truly?” she asks, looking up into the great expanse. The stars blink against the endless blue, and for once, the sight makes her feel cold instead of curious. “What if I–”

“You have to, Io.” His tone invites no debate, but there is a melancholy that matches her own. “You will figure it out no matter the cost, because you must.”

Io nods. Her eyes sting. She closes them to keep the tears at bay as long as possible. He is right, of course. Somewhere deep in her soul, the flame of her faith–in herself, in her friends, and in those who paved this way for her–burns as brightly as ever. She has to save them.

“But you will not be alone. We are with you, of course. We’ll give our all to see it through, if that’s what it takes.”

“Gambling your lives for a promise I made, for my mistakes… I can’t bear to think about losing them.” She risks a glance in Estinien’s direction, but his eyes never leave the gently rolling sea. “Or losing you.”

The barest of smiles, one of the little ones he tries to hide with a bowed head. He rubs the back of his neck, sending a cascade of loose hair over his shoulder.

Her chest clenches.

The well of affection she holds for him is muddy these days; for years, they’ve operated with platonic, amiable ease, flitting in and out of each other’s lives but always reuniting as the closest of friends. But since her time in the First, they have been nearly inseparable.

Estinien is her family, but unlike what she feels for Thancred, Urianger, or G’raha, he is not her brother. He evokes a distinct tenderness, gives life to a long-dormant, selfish hope within her heart, and he does it without trying.

“If we don’t try, all is lost.” He falls against the stone with a quiet groan and nudges her with an elbow. “This pessimism doesn’t become you. I have seen you stand against tremendous odds time and time again. I’ve heard tales of more things than I’ve seen. You may not always get it right, I may not always agree, but you do the impossible. What makes this any different?”

Io reflects on the past year (gods, has it been that long?). The burning skies, the horrible transformations, and the aether-depleted souls who will never see another lifetime on this beautiful star, all because she fell for a madman’s power play. She condemned them to this fate. 

She reaches further into her memory, to the unsure adventurer stepping foot into the Waking Sands, and her induction into the inner circle of these secretive upstarts she’s grown to call family. She’s been nothing more than a curse upon them. Thancred’s aether, Y’shtola’s sight, Urianger’s conscience, Minfilia’s life. What might they have avoided without her?

Haurchefant would be alive if she had stayed out of his life.

Since the day she left Dalmasca, death and destruction have been her shadow. As ruinous and loyal as Dalamud, a black dog she pretends she can abandon if only it would forget her scent.

She watches Estinien again, silver in the moonlight. His hands are clasped, hanging between long legs that dangle close to the water below. Like the water, he looks relaxed on the surface. Like the water, there is an undercurrent only the experienced can see.

His thumb worries a circle into the palm of his other hand. His shoulders are tense, hidden by his slightly curved posture. If anyone could understand why this is different, it’s him. For all his courage, he has seen the black dog too.

“It’s different,” Io swallows, “because it’s everything.”

Estinien looks back. His stare is hard. “And so are you.”

Once more, he leaves no room for debate. He speaks as if stating the obvious, citing a fact she should already know.

Io blinks, so awestruck by his candor, she has to look away. Her tumultuous thoughts now spin in his direction, unable to focus on more than this sudden vulnerability. What does it mean that sharing these doubts with him is the most comfortable she’s felt in days? What does it mean that she aches to reach for his hand?

His eyes dart over her face, never lingering on one feature too long. There is something overly controlled about it. Lately, she has employed the same tactic when trying not to stare at his lips…

If she leaned over and kissed him, would he push her away? Could they still be friends?

A selfish hope indeed. But a small thing in her mind whispers, “maybe after…”

If there is an “after” to be had.

She releases her bundled limbs and stands, stretching to relieve the long-ignored ache in her back.

“Come on,” she beckons. “We should at least try to rest before we travel to the edge of space and time.”

Io’s tension deflates as they walk to the annex, pressed under the weight of her exhaustion. They go in comfortable silence, half an arm’s length apart. There is something between them she longs to touch, but doesn’t dare. She has the moonlight in his hair, his half-smile, and his steadfast faith in her. That is enough.

That is more than enough.

The Baldesion Annex is dark, like the rest of the city. The lobby is empty. Not an Annex attendant, not a Scion. Estinien does not share her surprise. How persuasive must he have been to ensure no one disturbed her return? Io watches him move across the room with deliberate steps. He holds open the door that leads to the nap rooms and gestures with his head for her to go ahead of him. The little smile is back.

She returns it, and this time it’s genuine.

They pass Estinien’s door. Io’s room is around the corner and down the next corridor, and he makes the full journey.

They pause at her door.

“Thank you for keeping my head on straight.”

“Someone must. You would not hesitate to do the same for me.” He shrugs. And then his hand is on her upper arm, giving a reassuring squeeze. He pulls her into his space.

Her arms thread under his, hands pressing into his back. She rests her cheek on his shoulder, breathes him in. The sharp edge of her anxiety sloughs away, lost in the steady pressure of his arms around her.

They have never hugged like this. They have never been this close.

Io closes her eyes, squeezes him more tightly, and smiles when she can feel his erratic heartbeat through the firm press of their chests. In this moment, with his hands resting at her neck and waist, with his chin against her neck, skin to skin, she cannot imagine his denial. Perhaps it isn't a stretch to assume he feels this too.

The corridor lights grow dim around them. Io pays them no mind, content to stand in the dark until morning, held by the man she yearns for, the man she never thought she would.

But she yawns, and he steps away, hands on her shoulders. Another squeeze. Another scan of her face before his grey eyes focus on hers, like he's making a final decision.

“Tomorrow,” Estinien says. The single word is a promise. Whatever happens, whatever they find, he will make sure Io gets it done.

“Tomorrow.” She nods, slipping into the room as the memory of his touch crystallizes in her mind. Her limbs are heavy as she climbs into the too-small bed, but the weight has lifted.

She can breathe.

[talkorsomething]

want to cut my hair again like you wouldn't believe. What are the possible consequences of going bald

[izzy-b-hands]

Putting on last year's trans rigs stream from Drawfee before i have to get ready to go out with my mum and her bf today (bc i have the worst feeling in my gut he's gonna make that An Thing for me if given the chance today, aka whenever i eventually need the restroom while we're at Mystic)