#tumblr is for the freaks who get and for the freaks who get it only

[seeker-ophelia]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Ophelia’s Review, Part 1: The Emotion

Like most people on tumblr, I went into Veilguard for Solavellan. I needed a happy ending for them. I had obsessed and freaked and theorized for years. But before I delve into VG I need to explain some backstory. This is going to be as much a biography of me as it is a tale of my rook. And its going to be long, so you know, heads up. And Veilguard Spoilers.

I have been really struggling to get my thoughts into a coherent string after act 2 of VG. I feel like I can’t even review the game because I’m so emotionally wrecked, all I can do is tell a story. If you want to read this, be forewarned, its long, also, obviously spoilers, Veilguard. But… holy god my Rook. 

[Part 2 is here]

My first Dragon Age game was Origins, in 2009. I torrented it off Pirate Bay and played on my aging laptop that could barely handle it. And I loved it. I had never played a game like this before and loved the emotional and story-telling aspects of the game. I played as a Dalish rogue, Lelianna and Zevran were my best friends. Morrigan was the awe-inspiring yet traumatized goth-girl, and I fell for the golden-retriever bastard king of Ferelden.

I did not only watch on in broken-hearted horror as he ascended to his throne beside Anora without me, but I had him lie with Morrigan, the weirdo-turned-friend, because I trusted her, and frankly, I didn’t want to die.

And it broke me in a way the fantasy books I inhaled like oxygen as a child never did.

Because I chose to do those things. I made the choice. For right or for wrong, I was the one who decided their fate, even if those choices came back to bite me in the ass later.

I played Origins three more times over the next 5 years, through what I now call my University Years. I was broke, stressed, and overworked, and Origins became a comfort to me. I even properly bought the game with the DLCs the last time, because I had a little more money, and I figured a game that I had played and loved so much deserved it. (Never played 2, and that was my own fault). I discovered Fan Fiction because of Origins.

Then… I did some life things that I’m not going to air into the internet, but I kind of got my life together around 2016/17. I had a good job, a career even, and while I was by no means wealthy, I was okay.

And I heard about Dragon Age Inquisition, and remembered my old love for Origins, and gave it a go. I’ve always been a fantasy stan (I grew up with LotR), if you give me the option to play as a mage or an elf I’m going to do it. I wanted to romance Leliana, especially after her bad-assery in Redcliffe, but that turned out to be impossible. Because I never played 2, I didn’t know who Cullen was, and I romanced him (my love letter to Alistair). And while I liked the game, loved it even, I didn’t feel that emotional pull that Origins made me feel, and I put it aside. I’ve played some other games I’ve liked throughout the years, Fable, Skyrim, The Witcher, and I liked them all, but none of them really gut-punched me like that first fated Origins playthrough.

Cut to 2020, covid, and fuck if I didn’t have anything better to do, so I played DA2.

Oh man, I laughed at the graphics, oh it was so bad after Inquisition, how did anyone play this? And then I walked Darktown with Anders, walked slaver dens with Fenris, helped my Merrill with her Eluvian, and Isabela with her relic. And I helped my friend Varric in the deep roads. And I began to feel a tendril again of what I had in Origins. Who cared about the graphics, the gameplay, the locations, these people’s stories were what was driving this tale, and that was amazing and rare.

And I went into Inquisition with new eyes. I could not touch Cullen again, not after how he acted in Kirkwall. I knew Solas left, so I wanted to try and romance Bull (I’ve seen the youtube videos; ‘So you want to ride The Bull’). But I slowed down my playthrough this time, talked to everyone, actually spoke to Solas over and over in Haven. Indominatable focus indeed, hahren. What a curiosity you are. And I fell for fucking Solas.

A bald fucking hobo apostate, are you for real? Brain, get your head in the game. And my heart said, wait.

But he leaves! You know he leaves!  

Well, maybe I’m just destined to fall in love with emotionally unavailable fictional people.

And I played Descent and Hakkon for the first time, which were fantastic. And then I played Trespasser.

And Trespasser broke me. Just like Origins did.

And my Casual Dragon Age Days were done. I was feral.

But I also had a very demanding job. I could not just play video games for large chunks of time. I worked. A lot. I mean a lot. And in the fall of this year, I burnt out. I quit. I’ve got Real Shit going on in my life right now, and I’ve worked so much I can afford to take some time off.

And Dragon Age was there to welcome me, arms open wide, with Escapism 4.0, AKA The Veilguard. I spent hours crafting theories, making connections, playing Inquisition again, playing DA2 again, writing, actually writing Fics again. I read the comics, read TN, watched Awakening (twice).

I joined tumblr to stop being a lurker and actually participate. Joined Caitie and Kala’s patreons, just loving the hype and the theory crafting and the love for Veilguard. I love the Dragon Age world. It has helped me through so many tough times in my life, and its going to get me through this one, too.

I found community online. In tumblr, in reddit, in discord.

And I breathed Dragon Age for almost 2 months before Halloween. Solas this and Lavellan that and Fade and Magic and Titans and Gods and Love. Remember this, don’t forget about that, did you hear this theory, well what about the connection between…

To quote myself, Like most people on tumblr, I went into Veilguard for Solavellan. The companions came out, and I didn’t feel super strongly about any of them. I didn’t even feel strongly about my Rook. I had a general idea, especially because of Trick’s IGN interview, Rook/Mirror/Solas, but nothing really concrete.

And then Nadas-Dirthalen asked me about my Rook a few days before Halloween, and I had to think about it. I had to put down Solas and Lavellan, I had to put down my theories, put down the lore, and pick up this new thing. This Rook.

And I looked at it.

What did I want her to act like? What did I want her to look like? How did I want her to be? What drives her? Where is she from? What are her goals? What does she like? What does she hate?

And I weaved a new friend. Danivas (Dani, for short). Escaped rabbit slave out of Minrathous, her magic the only thing that saved her from hard labor in Dock Town or the mines, and then it was the only thing that saved her from the unwanted advances of the Tevinter Nobility. Rescued by the Dragons in her teens, she sought connection to her elvhen heritage with the Veil Jumpers, falling hard (platonically) for her mentor, her sister, Bellara. Everything she hated about herself, Bellara loved, and Bellara was flighty enough to need protecting, especially after Cyrian, so that’s what she became. Bellara’s protector. Arlathan’s protector. Protector of the small, and defender of the powerless. She will never apologize for saving Varric and the others at the cost of some stupid magic map, she would pay that price a hundred times over to save living beings.

And I made her in CC, I walked her through the streets of Minrathous, through Solas’ ritual, through Arlathan forest. My heart sang when I saw Harding again, and knew that Rook and Harding would be best friends. And I began to fall for the characters.

My Veil Jumper sister Bellara, poised but wickedly intelligent Neve, violent and troubled Lucanis, steadfast and resolved Davrin with playful Assan, towering yet growing Taash, and mystifying, immortalizing Emmerich, with his weird but I guess acceptable Manfred.

I helped Harding, Paragon of her time, discover her new mystifying magic, to find peace through pain, just as Bellara had done for Dani.

I learned all their stories. Their loves. How to interact with them, what they liked and didn’t like. And I fell, for Assan. That fucking griffon. Is so cute. How can you not love him? He’s just like Dani. Forced through circumstance to fight terrible evil, not necessarily against their nature, but certainly not what they would prefer to be doing. They are powerful and special and fierce and playful.

And, like any child, rebellious.

Dani helped Davrin through parenthood. He was a soldier, a commander, not a father, or a teacher, and though she was brash and sarcastic, she had been Bellara’s protector, she knew honey over vinegar, and pushed him to be gentler with Assan. Watched them grow together and felt such unhinged joy through their path to tulum. And then she looked up from digging her fingers into the feathers in Assan’s neck one day to see Davrin staring down at her, and thought, oh.

Her heart stuttered. And they flitted about each other for a long time. Teasing and testing, flirting and ribbing.

As she walked the steps of the Cobbled Swan to meet Morrigan, she told herself she would bring Davrin to Arlathan again, without Assan, and without any gingerwort tea. Just the two of them, and she would tell him what he meant to her.

But the Gods had different plans.  

And they had to move, NOW.

Davrin, the Grey Warden constantly surrounded by death and destruction, tried to warn me.

What if one of us doesn’t come back?

I actually let myself imagine the future.

Our future.

With our half-bird, half-cat kid.

And Dani, who had never had much hope for anything before, brought her hand to Davrins face with a soft smile, and soothed her Griffon Daddy, Var Lath Vir Suledin, Davrin.

When we win, when we beat this thing, we will come back here, and I will show you how much I love you.

Every Solas fresco I uncovered, I cried. Every memory, every revenant, even the ones I saw coming. I felt so much emotion for Solas, even as my love for Rooks Companions grew. Dani’s love for Davrin grew, in a very real, fast, surprising way.

But the Gods Eclipsed the Sun, and we had to move, NOW.

Of course I chose the Grey Warden to lead the charge against the Antaam. I needed Taash and Harding with me, and he was better suited to the roll. Harding is a scout, not a commander, and Davrin would have Lucanis for any sneaky mischief he would need, with Emmerich for any quick heals.

Imagine my relief when we met up again. I made a choice and he didn’t die, thank you, BioWare.

No, Neve, Bellara is better suited to deal with old Elvhen Magic.

And then Elgar’nan took her from me. Dani’s sister. Her home.

And she blasted through darkspawn and Blight to get to Elgar’nan, to get to Bellara.

But they had to get through Ghilan’nain first.

Fuck you Ghilan’nain if you think I’m fighting alone, my strength is my team, and I will move Fade and Titan to get to them. And Dani frees them, only to have Lucanis foiled, again. How do we get out of this? What do we do?

Upside down, she watches Davrin scale a crumbling tower, and their eyes meet.

No.

Whatever it takes.

Davrin, No.

His voice is deep and commanding, resolute and resolved.

“Assan!”

And Dani’s scream tangles with Assans as her son smashes into Ghillan’nain’s back.

The Blighted Goddess stumbles, and Lucanis and Dani fall to the ground, but Ghilan’nain’s blight is lightening, and when Dani looks up at Davrin two tentacles have speared him, his eyes wide and unseeing into the dark sky.

She screams again, Ghilan’nain forgotten, and as she watches Assan dive to the aid of his fallen partner, Dani is knocked back by a concussive blue blast; the Crow has fulfilled his contract.

The air is charged, the veil tearing here, Emmerich is yelling something at her, she must remove the dagger or this world will be torn asunder.

And then there’s overpowering, pressured silence. Grey and fog and stone and loneliness surround her, and all she can see or hear is Solas.

You were never ready to make the sacrifices that leadership requires.

Davrin. Assan. Bellara. My family. Is GONE. Because of ME.

Well, shit, kid. Haven’t you learned anything from this place? I made the choice, even knowing the risks. My decision, my sacrifice, and you don’t get to take that from me.

And Emmerich and Lucanis pull her from her prison of regret, and she knows she can’t blame herself, that would be taking away Davrin and Bellara’s agency, but you know who she can blame?

Solas.

The man my Lavellan loves. The man I swore to save. The one I started this game for. The one who made me feral for Dragon Age.

He did this to me.

Solas took away my love. By not being able to face his regrets.

And Dani became Hardened.

“Are you certain you’re alright, Rook?”

“We’ve still got work to do. I can collapse when this is over.”

“You needn’t carry this burden on your own. The rest of us will send word to our allies. You must take care of yourself in the meantime. We’ll speak again soon.”

But she was fine. She would be fine. Had to be fine. They had a job to do. Gods to kill. People to save.

It was walking past Assan’s spot in the courtyard that broke her.

Mourn Davrin?

To the Void with that.

I will avenge him.

I will kill the Elf who started all of this, forget Mythal, forget Lavellan, forget the Blight.

Mirror.

Solas cannot blame himself, that would be taking away the agency of his friends, but you know what he can blame?

The Veil.

I will end the curse that started all of this, forget Mythal, forget Lavellan, forget the Blight.

Mirror.

I will defend the small.

Mirror.

I will free the enslaved.

Mirror. 

You were never ready to make the sacrifices that leadership requires.

Mirror.

Its easier to play the villain, because that means you didn’t fail, all the damage you’ve done, all the people you’ve hurt…

Mirror.

It becomes a choice.

Mirror.

Remind yourself who you really are.

Mirror.

But will you listen?

Mirror.

Rook lays on the cold cobblestone, eyes wide, fist white-knuckled around the lyrium dagger, a battered and bruised Solas standing behind her. Her anger got her through her battle with Elgar’nan, but it will not help her here.

Rook will have to live with the choices she made. The successes and the failures. She can’t blame Solas. It's easier to blame Solas. But that’s exactly what Solas did, place blame where it did not belong, and it destroyed the world.

And her anger and hate and grief and despair swallow and consume itself into the tiniest, smallest fleck of a wisp.

Of hope.

She rose slowly, meeting Solas’ gaze, and places the dagger in his outstretched, bloody hand.

I don’t want to see any more pain on top of what Elgar’nan has done.

(Hope)

Your prison is made of regrets, and you are trapped in yours.

(I’ll not be trapped in mine)

Destroying everything won’t erase your mistakes.

(Killing Solas won’t bring Davrin and Assan back)

You have the chance, right now, to save the world. Bind yourself to the veil and stop it from failing.

And it takes the Mother, the Maiden, and the Mirror, for Solas to accept his past.

As Lavellan walked the din’an shiral after Solas, Rook walked it for Davrin.

As Varric released Dani from her regret, Mythal released Solas from his.

As Solas turns to the Eluvian, the Magic Mirror named Rook, he is forced to see his faults, and how to fix them.

His corrupted purpose is repairable. And he passes his torch to the Mirror, vowing to seek atonement for the sins of his past, sins grown and amplified because he refused to face the truth of them.

And that will probably hit everyone, because I’d wager good coin that if you’re playing video games, or reading fantasy, you’ve used escapism before, but it hits especially hard for me. Right now. At this point in my life. When my own personal veil I’ve constructed to hold back my own evils is crumbling around me because I have not faced the truth of my own past sins, my memories as demons grown and amplified and slipping through cracks because I refused them for so long. My choice.

And when Solas and Ellana walked into the sunset, I cried. And cried. And cried. Because this whole time I thought I was my Inquisitor, bare your blade and raise it high, look to the sky, for one day soon, the dawn will come, var lath vir suledin. Bellanaris. Perseverance, endurance, outlive, outlast, that is what you need.

When in reality I am my Rook. Let go of your regret. You don’t need to hold on to this, you need to let it go.

We all have to face our regrets. Accept them, and then let them go. Running from them only makes them worse.   

And I leave with the lyrics of the Veilguard Credits song, “Roll The Credits,” by Danielle Ponder:

I could feel it, I won't come down I could see it, oh, with all eyes Hold my head and saw the whole sky I never felt so damn alive And if there's smoke, then I'll be water If there's fire, I'll be rain

We were lost, but we weren't stranded We were dreamers on the run I gave my all, it was commanding And we just did this shit for fun I could feel it, I won't come down Found myself above the sky Tell my mama, tell my daddy That love is falling from the sky

Good God Almighty, I done opened my mind These holy waters left a chill down my spine

[fourteenpigs]

Finally pushed through making a shitty intro.

Hi im FlerbGerp (call me Flerb or any nickname u think of), I’m an artist (😭) and shit poster who mostly (currently on 11/9/24) draws stuff related to Invader Zim or my own ocs because those are like my biggest obsessions rn and i even have pending AUs to post about ^_^!!

If ur my mutual u should consider being my friend… (please) I’m real friendly and can talk a lot if u want to talk a lot :P IM SO FUCKING ANNOYING THOUGH OH MYGOD BE WARNED BE WARNEDDDD,,, but anyways I’m into animation, cartoons (I don’t watch a lot though, idk..) and creativity of all kinds ^_^,,.. if you like any of the photos I put up above then u should totally stop by and say hi I probably won’t bite.

I couldn’t really bother to add other images to list all of my interests but here’s some more:

Lord of the flies, LPS, MLP, ENA, the outsiders, JTHM,chowder, the misadventures of flapjack, furries,etc…(not in order)

Some more music: Srgt. Moon, RUMBLERSGGA,diabarha,snails house, rabbit junk,celldweller,Atari teenage riot,super heaven, Bh6w,Leroy,ginger, etc… (I have yet to listen to more of some of these artists music🙀)

Some musicks..

Uhhhh social media,, I only have 3 platforms.. Pinterest,tumblr and YouTube but tumblr is my main thing I use and can chat with but if u wanna be friends but don’t wanna use tumblr, ur gonna have to let me know what I should use to talk to you (and don’t say discord or spacehey.)

FOR MY MUTUALS: please! If u want to be friends please let me know..,, I’m quite fond of you guys but I’m shy but maybe (NOT GARUNTEED7) one day I will reach out first if I get brave…

^me and my moots

⚠️also I’m terribly ill errored awful stinky and poop, be warned…⚠️

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse, epilogue 1/2

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve. On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :) On AO3

Chapter 17: Epilogue (part 1)

One year later

Eddie strode across the lobby of the Beverly Hills Yorkshire.

He slid his blaring Walkman headphones from his ears—savoring the delectable mutterings of high-and-mighty folks’ having their feathers ruffled by his mere presence—and slammed his credit card down on the reception desk. He slammed its hapless occupant with the mega-watt grin that’d studded his life more regularly this year than the last.

His fiendish gurning was set off to perfection by rocker hair that was ‘so last decade,’ an Exodus t-shirt featuring the band performing cannibalism; and jeans with a rip up his left thigh that artfully allowed the cool air to kiss through his underpants to his butt-cheek.

“Room for a little one, Sweetheart?” That brought a raspberry blush to the male receptionist’s cheeks. “Penthouse suite would be a blast.”

“Uh… right. Yes, of course. Let me see what we have available, Sir.” The guy eyeballed the card nervously, although, frankly, Eddie’s nerves were kicking off too. This had seemed like a hilarious jape last night, at least to Eddie, if only to make the forced-conformity piggies around him wriggle and squeal…

…and to get a bad day off to an unsettling start for one particular douchebag who needed bringing down a billion pegs or so.

The receptionist had wandered into the back office, and then… Eddie rubbed his sweaty palms together, and mumbled, “Showtime.”

Head concierge, Larry Kline, emerged from behind the scenes. Eddie detected some decidedly pinched lines at the edges of Kline’s oily smile.

I know why you’re sweating. You’ve been summoned to an ‘extraordinary’ meeting of the board of shareholders who own this hotel.

Unlike me, you don’t have the faintest clue as to why.

“Mister Munson.” Each syllable was a stabbing ice-pick. “I’m afraid the Penthouse Suite is occupied. In fact, we are fully booked.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!” sang Eddie. Robin had already checked for him.

Kline pressed two white-knuckled fists to the counter, dropping his voice to a snakey hiss. “You’ve got a damn cheek, coming here, after you assaulted another guest.”

“Those charges were dropped, man,” announced Eddie, loud and theatrical. “I think you’ll find the lying son-of-a-bitch who made those accusations is now in jail. Then again, if this hotel ONLY WELCOMES JAILBIRDS then I’ll be on my merry—"

“Get out!” Kline jabbed a finger toward the revolving door. “Get out before I summon the police!”

“Cops, huh?” Pretty much everybody in the lobby was now gawking at them, and the lyrics of ‘I hate everything about you,’ by Ugly Kid Joe radiated tinnily from Eddie’s headphones. The snark-fest song wasn’t a favorite or the most subtle choice. Kline would never have appreciated the depths of any true thrash metal track. Either way, Klein was enjoying the show a lot less than Eddie. And Eddie was only the warm-up act. “Call ’em if you want, Sweetpea. I’ll wait for my room-key, or for the cops to come and arrest me for…” He drummed his fingers on his lower lip. “What exactly?”

“I should think rifling through your pockets for illegal substances would reap dividends,” seethed Kline. “We had to fumigate that suite after you left.”

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that, dude. I quit my entire spectrum of smokey substances over a year ago.”

Eddie blew Kline a kiss then was pretty sure he detected steam hissing from the concierge’s ears.

The receptionist cleared his throat. “Mr Kline? The, uh, board of shareholders are waiting.”

Eddie didn’t miss a beat. As soon as Kline disappeared, tugging at his neckerchief, Eddie skedaddled to the nearest service corridor, where Robin was waiting for him.

“Is he okay?” asked Eddie.

“Yeah, I think so. He’s all set.”

She hooked her arm through his and tugged him through a small door. At first impression, they seemed to have entered a cramped space, almost totally filled by a table of used coffee-cups and leftover and half-eaten pastries. Then, as the hum of conversation rose in his ears again, he realized they were behind a curtain at the catering section of a huge conference room.

Robin peeped around the curtain. Eddie held back, fists curling so tight his rings and nails gouged his palms.

Steve had gone through a lot in this past year. Too much. He’d stood up in court, faced the most brutal of interrogations. With the help of other abuse victims, who Suzie’s legal team had traced and supported, he’d helped dump a whole bunch of nasty pieces of shit in jail. It’d been impossible to keep his name out of the press completely. On the other hand, the exact nature of the financial handouts to the Harrington heir—following early victories in his ongoing multi-million-dollar lawsuit against his parents’ lawyer, Martin Brenner—had been kept more or less under wraps.

In the final months before Brenner had been arrested on charges of fraud and sex trafficking, he’d purchased shares in the Beverly Hills Yorkshire. It had been why his current jailbird buddy, Dickchester, had switched hotels and had been allowed to treat the staff like dirt. Robin had known that at the time, even though she’d had no clue that these were Steve’s abusers. Now, the vast majority of Brenner’s assets were in the process of being transferred to Steve.

Eddie sucked a swift breath into his leaden lungs and peeped around the curtain.

The room was bigger than his and Steve’s entire apartment—and for LA, theirs wasn’t exactly a broom cupboard. On the other hand, the illusion of space was magnified by the small number of shareholders—six men and two women, all pushing retirement age. A little apart sat Vickie, the hotel’s newly recruited business manager. And, at the far end, a guy barely out of his teens sat at the head of the vast table.

Steve was rocking the power vibes. He’d paired his ray-bans with an Armani suit—Eddie reluctantly conceded his boyfriend made even establishment bling hot—countered by the pair of Nike Airs he’d gotten planted on the table. His hair was so perfectly groomed that Eddie fought an urge to run out and ruffle it.

Yeah, Steve had nailed the act. Apart from, perhaps, the arms he’d gotten wrapped tight and defensively around his middle.

Eddie’s own hand clamped to his stomach. He was so nervous, suddenly, he felt sick. “Should we—”

“Ssssh!” Robin pressed a finger over her lips.

Kline had entered at the far end of the conference room. Silence reared up. “To what do I owe this honor?” he smarmed. “Should I take a seat?”

“No,” said Steve, tipping back on his chair. He nodded to an older lady, sporting the archetypical blue rinse, twinset and pearls, who sat to his left. “Vera? Would you do the honors?”

She stood up: “Mister Kline, a multitude of instances of gross misconduct have been brought to our attention. It is the unanimous decision of the shareholders that you should be dismissed today. With immediate severance of all pay.”

“But… but…” Kline’s hands flapped wildly before clapping together in a prayer: “Ladies, Gentleman. I am sure this is a trifle—a misunderstanding that can be easily cleared up. Shouldn’t I at least know what these accusations of misconduct are? Who is making them against me?”

“All those questions can be answered by our new majority shareholder,” said Vera. “Mr H—”

“Thanks, Vera,” said Steve, cutting her off with a breezy wave. He changed the cross of his ankles on the table. “Kline, you’re a bully and a liar. You’re also one hundred percent guilty of physically assaulting at least one member of staff in this shith… uh, I mean, in this fine institution. I’m happy to testify to that, but I’m sick of court cases. I want this to be over.”

Kline’s eyes stretched wide. Robin grabbed Eddie’s hand, finding it as clammy as his own. Had Kline figured it out yet?

Steve raised his sunglasses to nail Kline with a death-ray glare. “You’re fired, asshole.”

“You?” squeaked Kline.

“Yeah, it’s me. Let’s recap for your jumped-up little pea-brain. Treating me like shit? Treating anybody like shit, just because you can get away with it?” As the former chief concierge opened and shut his mouth like a beached fish, Steve smirked, apparently totally at ease now: “Big mistake. Big. Huge.”

…

Steve let Vera bark the final orders: “Clear your desk, Kline. You have five minutes to get out, before security will kick you into the gutter where you belong.”

Steve’s heart pounded against his ribs.  Adrenaline tore through his veins. He watched Kline scuttle from the room like the cockroach he was, and then unleashed what felt like the longest, most heartfelt sigh of his life. He slid his sneakers down from the table and righted his chair with a loud clack.

The entire board’s attention swerved back onto him. For the briefest moment, he’d felt like there should be triumphant music swelling in the background. Now, there was simply an eerily reverberating silence.

“Mister Chairman?” said Vera, with a grandmotherly smile. “Shall we proceed with the rest of the day’s business?”

Steve recalled the list of agenda items, as long as his arm. He’d not even started to read it. Every ounce of his willpower had been dead set on getting even with Kline. Now, his mind fell disarmingly blank. And his mouth flapped off before he could stop it: “Absolutely. I’ll, um… Can we take a brief raincheck? I need to hand you over to the new majority shareholder and chairwoman of the board, Robin Buckley.”

A small shriek sounded from behind the catering screen. It was Steve’s turn to scuttle, as he sped to join his friends. He didn’t even have time to hug Eddie before Robin got right in his face:

“What the fuckety fuck, Dingus? I told you—I don’t even want to be promoted yet. Doreen deserved to be the new head of housekeeping. I’m not ready to be anything other than a sous chef!”

“That’s why this makes perfect sense.” It had been a spur of the moment decision, born basically of panic. Still, Robin’s wrath aside, he honestly believed it didn’t totally suck: “You’re smart. You could skim those minutes in seconds. Plus, who better to make decisions about the running of the hotel than somebody who actually works here? Somebody who will make sure nobody is ever treated like dirt again. Besides, these meetings are quarterly. Shouldn’t cramp your style, huh?”

“I agree with Alex P Keaton here,” said Eddie, hooking an arm around Steve, who gratefully sagged into him. “You are literally Frodo with the ring, Robin.”

“Oh God, not the nerdy ring book.” Occasionally, Steve missed the times when these two were at each other’s throats, rather than uber-geek best buds. He pinched between his eyes against the start of a tension and caffeine headache. Also, to evade Robin’s beyond death-ray glare.

“Okay, maybe you’re more Eowyn in war-cry mode,” Eddie conceded. “But the metaphor’s not so lousy. Power is best wielded by those who crave it the least.”

Steve peeped up. Robin had plowed eight shaky fingers into her hair, which was an uncharacteristic violation of hygiene standards. “Aaaargh! My stomach is a gordian knot right now, Steve!”

He was starting to feel really bad: “I don’t know what that is, but I’m pretty sure my stomach was in one too when I said what I did. Look, I’m sorry, but… please, Robin? Honestly, I can’t think of anybody more fitted for the job. I can have the shares transferred into your name today.” He took off his ray-bans, hooked them on her nose. “These totally come with the role. Tho’ promise me you’ll take them off when you’re making eyes at the new business manager. I swear she’s making them back at you.”

“Ssssssh,” hissed Robin, though the edges of her lips ruffled toward a smile.

“You’ll do it?”

She harrumphed loudly. Concealed beneath the shades, he was pretty damn sure she rolled her eyes at him.

“Next time, Dingus, a few minutes notice would be polite. Oh, and… there’s gonna be a few changes around here, starting right now.”

She grabbed a croissant, took a hefty bite. She chewed, swallowed, dabbed nutella from the edge of her lips, then swished aside the curtain. Her hands planted on her hips, she confronted the board: “Is it really so dreadful to watch somebody pouring your coffee?”

Steve and Eddie beat a hasty retreat to the corridor. “Okay, why am I starting to worry about absolute power corrupting absolutely?” Eddie moved a step behind Steve to give him a backrub.

“How long till she’s calling them shit-birds? We should start a sweepstake. Oh God, yeah, Eddie… that feels amazing.”

They paused in their progress, while Eddie eased a little more of Steve’s tension from him, and Steve leaned into him. Post adrenaline crash, he was starting to feel pretty tired. It was a few blissful moments before he turned back to face Eddie. Who’d plopped a bellhop hat on his head.

“What the fuck?” said Steve.

“Does it suit me, Babe?” Eddie touched his face and fluttered those long dark lashes.

“No! It looks Halloween costume levels of ridiculous on you.”

“Just because I don’t wear it as well as you did.” Eddie pouted, adorably fake-sad, then: “What do you wanna do now, Stevie?”

Melt into your arms. Stare into your eyes till it gets kinda creepy. Make love for days.

He opted for an equally honest answer, one that was bubbling-cheese-on-cheesy-toast levels of cheesy: “I want to be with you. Forever, pretty much, and… I dunno.” He nibbled his lower lip, unsure about this next part: “I take it you didn’t snag the key to the penthouse?”

“No. Don’t reckon there’s gonna be a problem, though. You wanna go up? I know you miss that plunge bath. I could…” Eddie slung both arms around Steve’s neck and waggled his brows. “Pretty sure I owe you an aquatic blowjob.”

“I guess.” Steve laughed. Nevertheless, behind Eddie’s goofing around, he sensed darker shadows shifting. Eddie had had one recurring nightmare this past year, and it was for sure to do with what he’d witnessed when Steve chained himself to the pillar in the penthouse. Steve still barely remembered having the flashbacks about his abuse at the hands of Godchester and the others. His shrink had helped him begin, slowly, to come to terms with what had happened to him. However, there were some ghosts best left in the past.

He sure as hell didn’t want to raise those ghosts for Eddie. They had become Eddie’s nightmares almost as much as his own, and Eddie had his own demons to battle too. Slowly, painfully, his agoraphobia had gotten better, though he was still on baseline anxiety meds.

Steve shook his head. “Nah, I don’t wanna go there again. I thought I did, earlier. I mean, it is where we fell in love, but… It’s not who we are any more. I guess it never was. Anyhow, next summer we’ll have that pool ready at our place up in Oregon.” They’d bought a house on the same block as Wayne’s. “Aaaand we’ll have the jacuzzi hot tub, so…”

“Not waiting till next Summer to blow you, my Princess.”  Eddie flung open the door into the busy lobby. He bowed low, like a knight of old, for Steve to pass through. “Let’s go home.”

...

The end on AO3 The end on tumblr

If you have stuck with me this far, thank you so very much <3

perma-tag for the best inspiration friend ever: @wheneverfeasible

Thank you for reading. Likes, reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3

[sociallyrepressed]

now tell me why I opened tik tok- TIK TOK to see screenshots of lestappen posts from Tumblr. that is a breach of safe space and I hope no one from Tik Tok tries to find those accounts (the account names weren’t blurred out or anything) and I hope the drivers, the WAGs, and their families never see stuff like that.

also general PSA: you should never try to push a narrative about driver pairings in the real world because it’s disrespectful to them and to their (beautiful, sweet, intelligent, really cool) WAGs. respect their space and their boundaries outside of the fic sites like here and ao3 bc the ONLY reason they should EVER see anything like this is if they search for it themselves. you can enjoy watching races and interacting with drivers while simultaneously drawing a clear, decisive line between that and this. thank you

[jolluxiscool]

remember that tmosth au i had? i do

[yuridovewing]

i understand the frustration with “i made this gay pairing cis x trans so they can still have biological babies” with no thought to other methods and how ppl assume thats the case when it comes to mothpool aus where mothwing is also the mother of the three, but also…. idk i kinda dont give a shit if someone wants to do that and i dont really think its inherently transphobic as long as its handled with care and respect.

what really concerns me about this debate is how some people are adamant that you cannot portray trans people having biological children in media or youre being disrespectful. and im gonna say as a nonbinary person who doesnt want children for themself- thats kinda fucking weird? like i understand that for some people, theyre trans themselves and theyre speaking from a place of dysphoria, and i absolutely get that, which is why i think the topic should be handled with nuance and diversity in trans characters, but like…. guys. pregnant trans men exist irl. trans women get people pregnant irl. trans ppl’s ability and right to parent and have biological children are being debated irl. we get denied the opportunity to adopt as well.

in a climate like this, are we SURE we want the stance on rewrites and headcanons in the silly cat books to be “if you portray trans characters having children, especially with a gay couple, youre a transphobic freak no matter what!” does it really matter? especially if its being done by a trans person handling the topic with nuance who has a lot of trans characters with varying perspectives?

obviously yes, remember that thats not the only way certain gay couples can have kids, remember that not every trans person is fully comfortable with it and keep that in mind, remember that surrogacy and adoption are also perfectly valid ways to give fan babies- but remember that there are OPTIONS. not that you need to condemn the idea of transgender parents in the first place unless they fit the very specific criteria of “proper transgender representation” and anything that dares deviate from that is proof the op is a transphobic monster (bonus points if theyre a trans creator bc i mostly see trans people getting shit for this and it kinda pisses me off. although idm if cis people do it either as long as theyre handling it with respect)

[maulfucker]

Yeah yeah jedi Maul au we've all seen him. But what about senator Maul au. Representing Dathomir, a neutral world like Mandalore that is still somewhat hostile to outsiders. Wearing fancy clothes that show a bit too much skin for the cold climate of Coruscant. Falling in hate at first sight with Padmé, the only other senator who brings a gun to the senate floor "just in case". The two of them having a weird rivalry because Maul doesn't trust the Jedi and is neutral in a lot of subjects that Padmé is a vocal defender of.

[trans-estinien]

i am never. ever. opening instagram again.

[kkoct-ik]

tumblr dont dehumanise the very people youre claiming to be defending challenge impossible

[unproduciblesmackdown]

omgg lol [guy who won't stop going "more like scapeGOATED" voice] now hold! on!! lmao [same guy just saw encanto voice] Hold on!!!

[hammerhead-jpg]

Hudson!¡ (+ Echo) (+Xavier)

CW!: Ommetaphobia

[fandommusings]

I met 5 out of the 6 students on my Kindergarten self contained autistic support class and I gotta say I think I legitimately have been blessed with the best, sweetest, and MOSE ENTHUSIASTIC class ever!

[oceanwithouthermoon]

seeing my mutuals make fun of me with other people (especially where i can SEE IT) makes me feel sooo awkward like i thought we were buddies hi what is the problem...

[themidnightcircusshow]

@heartofstanding tagged me in this meme months ago and unfortunately it took me this long to get to it because I had a mild crisis over how long it's been since I've read a novel, let alone one that I loved 😅 so this is nine of my favourite novels (not books, because if I included manga/short stories/comics/etc this would be giant)

0The Picture of Dorian Gray -- Oscar Wilde// Pyrrhus-- Mark Merlis//The Scarecrow--Ronald Hugh Morrieson//Unnatural History--Kate Osman//Tunnels of Blood--Darren Shan//The Coffin Dancer--Jeffery Deaver//Hero--Perry Moore//Frankenstein--Mary Shelley//One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest-- Ken Kasey

[ibrithir-was-here]

.

[twyrineslut]

shaking and crying bc i realized i should probably be posting art on twitter as well..... but i dont want to.....