#walks replies

[walks-the-ages]

@angru-zyruvyan woops, I hit the wrong button while half asleep on my phone and deleted your Ask instead of replying! The original ask was along the lines of

"with all of the sudden tf posting, I'm curious If ... [You've seen the trailers for Transformers One and what you think of it]"

To actually respond lol, I actually didn't know anything about it until we randomly watched the trailer last night after someone said the official Transformers youtube channel had the Transformers Prime movie on it along with a bunch of the episodes from various series--

[ID: a screenshot from a Transformers One trailer, showing a young Megatron [Megatronus?] and Optimus Prime [Orion Pax?] Sitting together looking in the direction of the camera. They are fully HD 3D animated and have their G1 series designs, very blocky and smooth. Megatron is various shades of grey and silver with red eyes, while Optimus is red, blue and silver with blue eyes. End ID]

It looks very pretty so far, and from the handful of episodes I've seen so far of G1, and what I know from Transformers Prime, I'm eager to see a movie exploring Optimus and Megatron's pre-war relationship, but you can imagine my wariness of a movie in 2024 with a plot about "Anyone using Violent Resistance to fight back against an Oppressive/Classist/Racist Government is Secretly An Evil Dictator" is going to be written and used ... But i guess that's true of literally all tf media that uses this backstory for Megatron (sigh), which I'm not sure how many use it, since I've only seen 1 full series and a handful of episodes from the other ones so far, along with reading random novel-length fanfiction that catches my eye X'D

[chloesimaginationthings]

Oooo I love the way you draw Jeff he's cute <333

I hope I did Jeff justice.. gotta love tired men

[acid-ixx]

I’m new, I just read your fic about neglect reader. I haven’t read through your blog yet but I am so excited after reading this fic. I am an emotional wreck right now and my curiosity is eating me alive with this question “Does reader know about Jason? Will they ever met? Ever have a platonic relationship together? Will Jason be more of a brother to reader?”

I’m sorry I speed through the fic and tears are in my eyes I couldn’t think straight BUT I notice that Jason is hardly there so I’m curious. Please this is such a brain rot, it’s way past midnight after I read this cause I keep stopping to cry.

major (?) spoilers below.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

hello anon !! im so happy ppl are getting more exposed to the content i have written so far. anyways, i can't believe i also got others to cry bec i did too when i was writing 😭

anyways, to answer ur question: yes! the reader will meet jason and he would actually be the first sibling you would meet after you have left the manor. the way he would turn yandere for you is a different approach to how the others would be because in the prequel, it has been stated that you had your fair share of encounters with him.

"will they ever have a platonic relationship with him/see him as a brother?" maybe, maybe not. because your meeting with him would all be a blur to you, and jason's obsession would stem from the trauma he had experienced, causing him to be more protective of you.

you're not in your best mindset and you're vulnerable walking through the streets of gotham and all alone? oh god, only a dumbass would do that— but once the red hood recognizes your face and the way you carry yourself so pitiably, he immediately tries to take you in his arms just as he should.

but the moment you push him away? tell him to fuck off despite your drunken state? the moment you cry and tell him you could deal with everything yourself without his help or anybody else's? you just remind him of himself and that triggers his first spiral into yandere-ism.

it's the way you share trauma, the way you both feel immense anger. he should've noticed sooner because you two would've been as close as peas in a pod. and yet he failed you by being a hypocrite. you were literally taken into the manor right after his death and discarded like you were mere trash. he should've taken you away when he had the opportunity to but he was too caught up in his feat of revenge.

yet the worst part was that he had taken notice of tim before he did you, and jason had momentarily hated you too because he thought bruce had replaced him. if he had looked through that veil of contempt that he had for you, and saw just how neglected and in need of attention you are, then he would've taken you under his wing.

but he didn't, and he had done the same thing to you as most did.

so take it as you will when i say you're more or less going to be closer (albeit unwillingly) to jason than anybody else because unlike his other siblings who are bound by their vigilante duties, your big brother jason wouldn't mind shooting any creeps who think they could touch his precious angel.

and he gets it, too, angel— you hate him, you hate them all and that's valid. but you can't just walk out in the streets alone and expect to be home in one piece; so leave it to him to scout your apartment alright? leave it to your big brother jason to intimidate the goons who try to stalk you when you're not looking. even if you don't want him near you, you'll always find warm food by your table and a note reminding you to take care of yourself more often.

it hurts when you rip the paper to shreds but it breaks his heart even more if you refuse to touch the meal he would leave for you, because that probably means you saw him as danger more than anything else. and he doesn't know it, but you're already planning to make a run for it now that you're under red hood's radar.

it's obvious that you have no experience when it comes to living by yourself, so please don't fucking push him away and let him protect you from any harm. your self destructive habits only causes him to become more protective of you and it only lets him stalk you more often to ensure nobody would touch his precious angel.

just like dick, you'll be treated more like a child than that of a young adult, but at least jason has the concept of personal space compared to your eldest brother. but still, jason wishes to hold you in his arms.

heaven forbid if the joker ever got his crummy fingers on you. jason would go berserk.

little does he know, little does your family know just how much they had lost the opportunity to keep you in wraps inside the manor.

they should've never let you out in the first place.

[mymarifae]

guys twitter dot com doesn't like when you criticize toriel's parenting decisions. don't do it

[imyourbratzdoll]

step-daddy rick sneaking into your room to make you feel good down there and take care of you bc ur his little girl 🥺😭 the dream

it is the dream😪

summary - your step daddy knows how to take care of his little girl, even if your mum is in the other room.

warning - smut, oral, cheating, slight somno, stepcest, daddy kink.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn’t mine, divider by @newlips.

Your eyes flutter, moaning as you wake from your slumber, feeling tingles and slickness between your thighs, through your fuzziness you hear something. “Hmm…” You blink, looking down hazily. “Daddy?”

Rick groans, lifting his head from between your thighs, licking his lips clean of your arousal. “Shh, baby girl. Daddy’s just takin’ care of ya.” His grip tightens on your thighs, spreading your legs further. “You were moaning for daddy in your sleep, baby. Thought something happened to ya, only to find out my little baby needed some takin’ care of.” You whimper, shifting your hips as his rough voice makes you throb.

“Daddy…” You chew on your bottom lip, feeling your puffy clit throb.

“It’s okay, baby. Daddy will take care of ya, just gotta be quiet for me. Can you do that?” You nod rapidly, hands curling into the sheets beside you. “Good girl. Always my good little girl.” Rick groans, diving back into your cunt, lapping up your glistening juices before latching onto your swollen clit. “Such a pretty little pussy, all mine, huh?”

Your hips move against his face, grabbing the bear he got you for Christmas and shoving it against your face as you moan into it. His words vibrating against you, you feel your toes curl from the pleasure.

Rick watches you, rutting his erection against your pastel pink bedsheets, your pretty little sounds going straight to his dick. He grunts, pulling away, causing you to whine and try to grab his head but he pulls away with a smirk. “Poor little baby, you wanna cum? Wanna cum for daddy?” You whine, eyes crossing as he brings his thumb up and begins to play with your little clit, rubbing it as he leans back down, fucking you with his tongue.

“Daddy, daddy please! Please, wan’ cum so bad!” You grip your bear and sheets harder, walls pulsing as he continues to eat you out. Rick groans, humping the bed harder, bringing himself closer to the edge.

“Cum for daddy.” Your back arches and your vision goes white as you cum, juices squirting out and coating Rick’s face. “Good girl.” He groans, lapping up everything you give him as he cums in his pants, the friction causing his cock to twitch. Rick hums against you, giving your little clit a small kiss before pulling away and crawling on top of you. “My good baby. Always so good for daddy.”

You giggle, wriggling away happily as he leans down and presses a sweet kiss against your lips before smothering your face with kisses. He pulls back, smiling down at you. “Love you daddy.” You sleepily say.

Rick grins, laying beside you and pulling you against him, wanting to hold you for a bit before having to go back to his and your mums room. “I love you too, baby.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[alliebirb]

my trope of ALL time

[homiu-l]

have a nice day everyone

[whatawonderart]

i had a slightly insane dream last night where my head was bitten off by a creature and it started piloting me like a mech

[daylighteclipsed]

Your KH Enchanted posts are driving me INSANE! I've never thought about the connection before but like, Enchanted is literally about a cartoon character going to the real world and finding out that her designated "perfect" love interest wasn't actually the one for her despite the fact that he should be. And then cut to SORA WAKING UP IN QUADRATUM AND RIKU THERE LOOKING FOR HIM like... it's all coming together.

YES!!!! There are so many parallels. In Sora’s dreams, the way he and Riku wake up in this huge city at night with so many lights and signs and skyscrapers… it’s so much like Giselle pulling herself up into the center of Times Square. The area Sora’s in especially, Scramble Crossing, brings to mind Times Square.

Enchanted is about a fictional character becoming real. Giselle’s from a simple, “perfect,” fairytale world. She’s designed to be a stereotypical Disney princess, and she’s a trope more than a person until she ends up in the real world, where she’s quickly challenged by the real world’s imperfections and complexities, embodied especially in Robert and through her relationship with him.

I’ve talked before about how Kingdom Hearts features fictional characters waking up and coming to life, deviating from the script when they’re not really “supposed” to and becoming real. Like Giselle, Sora starts out as a pretty stereotypical trope — the hero — but over the course of his journey grows further away from that. He’s challenged and he changes, and a lot of that is embodied through his relationship with Riku, as Riku represents change and complexity, especially in the context of growing up.

There’s a lot of parallels in the dynamics between Giselle/Robert and Sora/Riku. They’re complementary opposites, and they learn from each other. Giselle inspires Robert to believe in the messages fairytales champion about kindness, the power of love, dreams coming true, and happy endings. Sora inspires Riku to follow his heart and open his heart to others. Robert helps Giselle understand that real life is not as simple as a fairytale. Riku helps Sora see and understand the nuances in their world and in each other.

Real people are complicated, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Giselle’s thrilled, for example, the first time she feels really, truly angry. Robert makes her feel things she’s never felt before, messy things that make her feel alive, that make it easier for her to understand him and grow closer to him. KH emphasizes that experiencing grief, sadness, anger, etc. allows us to connect with others deeper, whether we’re leaning on loved ones for support or trying to understand a stranger. Pain is a necessary part of having a heart, of being alive.

Also, these scenes are literally the same. Giselle and Sora even both smile in their sleep.

Giselle/Robert and Sora/Riku’s relationships develop significantly over the course of their stories. In comparison to Giselle/Edward and Sora/Kairi, which rely on trope expectations instead of character development/actual relationship building. Giselle hardly interacts with Edward. But he’s a prince, he resembles the man of her dreams, he saves her from falling, and she can finish his duet. Surely it’s true love! I’ve already compared sharing the paopu fruit with singing the duet. Kairi is also a princess. She saves Sora from falling to darkness in KH1. And it’s pretty and perfect and Disney, with him reappearing in her arms, gently pulling away, quietly thanking her with sparkles all around them. Just like how Edward catches Giselle right in his lap, perfectly in his arms, with the tree branches forming a heart behind them.

Compare that to later in DDD after Riku saves Sora from falling to darkness and Sora thanks him… and when Robert catches Giselle from falling off a billboard. It’s the same thing, but the moments are not pretty and perfect.

Giselle takes Robert to the hard ground, with a chorus of yelps and ouches as she nearly breaks his wrists. Riku is almost bowled over by Sora’s hug, and Sora holds him tightly, loudly exclaiming his relief, reluctant to let Riku go. But the lack of “Disney fairytale perfection,” I guess, in these scenes kind of makes them better, right? Robert is willing to get really hurt trying to catch Giselle. Sora is so happy to see Riku he can’t contain his emotions. Near the end of Enchanted, we see this again, except Giselle is the one catching Robert. And it’s still very clumsy and rough — he takes her down with him. It’s not perfect, but it’s real.

That’s the biggest difference between Giselle’s relationships with Edward and Robert, and Sora’s relationships with Kairi and Riku. In both surface dynamics and appearance, one is a pretty idea. A perfect, soft, simple fantasy that doesn’t exist, that can’t exist in reality beyond little boys and girls playing Prince and Princess. And the other is grounded in reality, with all the good and bad, the joy and heartbreak, laughter and tears, that entails. Being human is hard. But there is something magical about finding someone you can be human with.

Giselle mistakes Edward for the true love she’s been dreaming of. He’s got the blue eyes and the dark hair, and he catches her from falling. And it reminds me a lot of Sora mistaking Kairi for his light in the darkness in KH3.

It’s reasonable why Giselle and Sora would assume this… But Robert also catches Giselle from falling. He also has blue eyes and dark hair. Later, he dresses exactly like Giselle’s dream prince at the ball, and he even dances with her like in her dreams. In KH3, Riku sacrifices himself in an act of true love for Sora, and we see the light in the tunnel respond when Sora calls out Riku’s name. There’s a number of visual parallels from Sora’s dream and Dive to the Heart that indicate Riku is Sora’s light. While Giselle realizes the truth, it only seems to click for Sora a moment before he forgets. Giselle also gets a follow up parallel. Sora hasn’t yet.

Another little thing I want to point out — Giselle and Edward have a duet (that she stops singing), but Giselle and Robert have a waltz. They have the love song, and they dance to it. Sora and Riku don’t dance, but we see their hearts dancing to the song they create — a waltz version of Dearly Beloved.

Also Robert/Giselle still get the Disney singing element. It’s just not big and flashy like Giselle and Edward’s duet. Robert quietly sings a few words to her as they dance together… Sora and Riku still get the paopu fruit — it’s the keychain of Dearly Beloved (the Combined Keyblade) — but it’s not obvious like the cave drawing between Sora and Kairi is.

TLDR: I completely agree with you and I think, like Enchanted, KH intentionally plays with Disney tropes and audience expectations in order to subvert them. Like Giselle, Sora discovering his designated “perfect” love interest is not the one for him is part of his journey of awakening. It’s part of him becoming real, and growing up.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Hey did you know you got mention in RyeToast's Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Podcast?

The one about the timeline, in the michael section

JAWDROP… I’m so flattered actually

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

when its all said and done, would u consider making a pdf with all the mpreg comics together?

That's a good question!! Maybe? I should probably look into a good + convenient way of compiling everything together, in case going through tumblr posts is annoying. Definitely wanna choose a method where I don't have to compress things by editing the panels together into pages, (that would take so much time and editing, oh my god.) would putting hundreds of individual panels as images into a pdf like... work?? :'D I have no idea.

But you make a really good point! That's definitely something to consider when I'm done with this.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Could I request a Negan fic where he reassures a plus-size reader that she's sexy and desirable? Preferably with smut if possible! If not, that's understandable as well! Thank you either way for your time!!

of course you can💗

summary - with all these women wanting negan’s attention, you begin to feel like he could do better.

warning - self hate, self doubt, slight jealousy, swearing, smut, zombies, daddy kink, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn’t mine, divider by @newlips.

Another day went on and you watched another survivor flaunt themselves in front of Negan, hoping to gain his attention. You pushed your seat back and left the room in a hurry, not wanting to watch anymore.

You decide to take a shower, feeling dirty and in need of some thinking time. You don’t hear Negan enter the room, leaning against the doorway, neither do you notice him when you step out and look at yourself in the mirror, slowly tracing your fingers over the places you hate.

“Why’re you looking at my body like that?” You jump, letting out a squeak, whipping your head around to look at him. Negan’s brow raises, “I’m waiting, Sugar.”

“Is not your body…” You grumble, mumbling under your breath.

He smirks, pushing off the doorway and stalking towards you, cornering you into the bathroom counter. “The fuck you say to me, Sugar? You are mine, meaning this body is mine and I don’t appreciate how you are looking at it.” Your thighs clench together as he practically growls. “Now tell me.”

“…I don’t know why you want me, I’ll understand if you want the others.” You felt so exposed and aroused with Negan pressed against you.

“Where the shit did this come from, Sweetheart?” He grips your chin in his hand making you look at him. “You think I want them? Do you know how long it took me to get you, Sweetness? So fucking long and I ain’t giving that up for some easy lay.”

“I’m yours.” He spins you around, pressing harder into you, still holding your chin as he makes you look at yourself in the mirror. “Ya see what I see? A fucking goddess, look at these fucking tits.” You whimper when he grabs them, squeezing and jiggling them. “My god, these tits are in my fucking dreams. All I can think bout is suffocating myself in them or shoving my dick between them, making you watch as I fuck them.”

“Negan…”

“Shut up. You’re gonna listen to me and then I’m gonna fuck you.” He groans, reaching back and grabbing your arse. “This fucking arse. You should know, half the men I’ve killed weren’t cause of the crimes I said. No, I killed them for looking at what’s mine, talking bout you in ways only I can talk about you.” You moan as he continues squeezing and spanking your arse before his hands move again.

“And these thighs, fuck. Love when you suffocate me with them or wrap them around me as I fuck you. Get so fucking hard when you walk, talk, breathe. Fucking everything you do gets me hard.”

His hands skim your stomach. “Love me a full woman. There’s just something so comforting and homey about one. Ya feel like home, Sugar.” Negan nuzzles his face into your neck, causing tingles to spread as his beard rubs against you.

You moan when he slides into you, you didn’t even know he had taken his cock out. “Now, this cunt. My favourite fucking thing, it’s like Christmas morning every time I slide inside or taste it. You’re my fucking present, baby. Fuck, always feel so fucking tight.” He grips your chin, turning your head and placing a kiss on your lips. “You want me to fuck you in front of everyone, baby? Might have to leave a mark on you so they know you’re mine. Better yet, you leave one on me.”

You clench around him, gripping the bathroom counter as he fucks into you harder and faster, gripping your hips with a bruising grip. Your eyes connect with his in the reflection causing you to squeeze him even tighter. “N—Neg—!”

His hand comes down on your arse hard. “That’s not my name, Sugar. C’mon, what’s my name?” He growls, pounding deeper.

“Daddy!” You scream, cumming so hard your eyes roll back and vision becomes white.

“That’s my girl.” He buries deep into you, filling you up. Negan spins you without pulling out, causing you to face him. “C’mon, mark me, Sugar.”

Your brows furrow.

Negan raises his. “I’m serious, Sweets.” He leans down and moans as you latch onto his neck, sucking, nipping and licking. Pulling back to reveal a large hickey. “Good girl.”

After that, everyone knew he was yours.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[hitlikehammers]

that tune without the words

“It was nice, walking through those woods, talking to you,” and the tone of his voice in admitting it makes the whole shebang another line item for Eddie’s getting-to-know-Steve file: lift this man’s standards out of the fucking gutter—but then his tone’s turning sorta wry: “Even if it was mostly about how you were impressed that I was less of a douche than advertised.” 💕

rating: t ♥️ cw: mid-S4, Vol2, steve goes back for eddie’s ‘body’, interdimensional bat venom can be a hell of an paralytic inconvenience ♥️ tags: eddie munson lives (to go on a date that’s not walking through dead hell-forests 🎉), steve harrington having a one-sided/unfiltered heart-to-heart with the cute boy who carved his probable bisexuality indelibly intonstone 💎 (no biggie), an over abundance of flirting in times of mortal peril, planning a future in an actively crumbling hellscape=(soon-to-be)couple goals, happy ending (and hopeful ending, too!)

for @steddielovemonth day two: "if you're lost, you can look and you will find me // if you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting" —Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper

title credit here🪶

When they tangled with Vecna, Eddie’s body gets left behind. Sure, yes, they all know the timeline, the logistics, how the story goes. The gates seal. Supergirl goes nuclear. They kinda-half-lose. The town’s a fucking mess. They gotta lick their wounds.

But the in-between bits get hazy, see.

Specifically when Steve went AWOL and ran back, jumped through the closing gate he’d just barely managed to climb up through in the first place, given the extent of his wounds, and runs for the body they abandoned because he doesn’t leave his people behind.

And somehow in just a couple days, Eddie counted as his people. Even just his body.

The strength, the speed, the stamina to not have been stuck in the Upside Down, to not have dropped the dead weight in the way back up, to not have got suctioned in and crushed in half as the fissures crept closed: that’s the fucking stuff of legends, of parents lifting trucks off pinned children. No wonder they call Steve the mom.

But yeah. Eddie’s body’s left behind.

For like…ten minutes, max.

Then Steve fucking Harrington had to be all Steve fucking Harrington about it, say fuck that, and weigh the risk of two dead bodies as sufficient collateral to leap like it was a fucking two-for-one at Melvald’s.

Bastard made it back, too. Bloody as fuck, everything that’d healed even a little bit torn at least twice as wide in breaking back open; three extra broken bones, with at least on being a rib that there’s genuine concern over puncturing a lung with one more wrong move—and a likely one, given the evidence thus far.

And also, there’s Eddie.

Eddie, who’s breathing, who they don’t know until later whether Steve managed to somehow resuscitate, or if the powers that govern the hellscape zapped him back for nefarious reasons, or maybe they’d all just…fucked up and missed that Eddie wasn’t even all-dead in the first place.

Details, remember. The in-between parts got real hazy.

Eddie knew the truth form the get-go, though.

Having to witness Henderson fall apart, draped across him was maybe the most harrowing thing eddie has ever had to live through—but the point was, he did live through it. Everything was foggy, and he felt like his world was blinking too long in between knowing it was still there, like reality and his place in it were too close to sleep to be rooted, to be trusted, to be sure at all that it would last and that his shitty attempts to get any air in weren’t just painful acts of desperation to delay the inevitable.

But then there had been lips on his lips, and he’d tasted his own blood there but then more blood, other blood.

And his lungs were blissfully full for the first time in what felt like eons.

He wants to turn to find out who’s there, whose mouth had just spared him in his torment for even a few extra moments before the end, but he—

He can’t fucking move. He hadn’t realized that part before—oxygen deprivation, hell of a distraction apparently—but now that he clocks it?

That lungful of air’s gasping out fast as fuck as eddie panic because what’s happening what is happening—

What’s happening is that mouth on his again, giving him back the breath he’s foolishly wasting on panic, coupled with a too-broad hand, palm braced at his chest and fingers curled up his shoulder: firm. Steadying.

“Poison,” a voice says low, close to him enough that eddie thinks he maybe feel warmth from it but he’s not sure, he’s not sure what he does and does not feel and that’s most of the fucking terror: “in the venom. My legs were numb as fuck after, the went too deep at the core and it just fanned out, couldn’t feel a fucking thing but the pain til we got supplies.”

The hand moves fuller to his chest like it’s testing something, then the lips are back, filling up his lungs, like someone who knows how this works, who’s done it before—

A lifeguard would know. Would have done it before and…

Okay, like, Eddie didn’t spend most of every summer the past handful of years in a carefully disguised little copse of shadey trees near enough to keep the community pool in his sights because he was planning to get in the water, y’know?

“But then it felt like there wasn’t enough air when I tried to breathe deep, way worse than my legs, like from,” and he touches Eddie’s neck, then, where the bats barely got him by comparison to…other places so Eddie thinks—with the newly-restored moments of oxygen to his brain cells—Steve’s talking about his suspicious noose-shaped souvenir.

Eddie wants to be able to see, wants to see and know with all his sense that this is steve: touching him and coming back for him and saving him and—

“You’re still breathing,” and shit, it’s like Eddie’s prayers are answered without a god believed in, his fucking lucky day, because Steve’s leaning and holding still so the his cheek under Eddie’s nose, and the bow of his lips just at the corner of Eddie’s mouth, gasping out his assessment when the hint of damp the exhale gathers on his skin, all with a kind of relief that feels…too big, really. Like Eddie can’t possibly deserve that. They barely know each other.

But fuck if Eddie—who was very much banking of giving up the goddamn ghost down here just a couple minute prior, especially once everyone had left and he was just staring at the red lightning waiting to be struck down for good—but fuck if Eddie is gonna pretend he doesn’t want to deserve that care and relief, to merit and earn it for himself, specifically from Steve, especially the Steve he’s gotten to know in the last seventy-two hours. All the shit about crisis revealing a persons true nature?

Sign Eddie the fuck up for a) all of Steve Harrington and his truest true nature as well as b) the sworn duty of keeping this far too tightly wound paladin barbarian crossbreed marvel of a specimen from any more crises, and ensuring the opposite instead, maybe like, holding him close. Kissing his neck. Falling asleep in each other’s arms. More…stuff like that.

Time probably moves faster the vacuum of real actual Armageddon, so. He probably can shrug off the ‘barely know each other’ stuff.

His heart’s doing a little floppy-floppy thing with Steve’s mouth still so close; with knowing Steve’s mouth had been closer, so. Yeah. He’s sold, 100% on board. Bring him the dotted line, he’ll be Mrs. Harrington by morning.

Or…evening? It’s just fucking dark here, he doesn’t even remember what day it is.

“Too much,” and Steve’s not moving form where he’s gauging—presumably—Eddie’s breaths at the source, whispering and so, so close as he waggles his hand around; “before, but,” and Eddie gets it quick: too much commotion. To much hysteria, and more than merited, but Dustin’s sobbing? Robin’s shaking, Nancy’s armor-grip on her gun making trying to measure a pulse less than worthless and Steve…Steve has getting them the fuck out before the gates closed, Eddie remembers hearing that—which begs the question of why he’s here again bow, but one thing at a time.

The one thing Eddie wants to focus on is Steve thought to come back at all, and thought it not inpossible to find him alive and not-yet-but-still-eventually-capable-of-kicking, because the bats had numbed him to fuck, too.

And he hadn’t told anyone, Jesus fuck—this man, and giving more shirts about him already than Eddie’s maybe given for anyone, is gonna be what actually manages to put him six feet in the goddamn ground.

“I had a feeling,” Steve says, and Eddie doesn’t have to try and fail to turn to see the triumphant smirk he’s pulling, still relieved but like, vindicated now, too.

“And even if I didn’t,” he sobers quick; “I wasn’t leaving you here.” And Eddie wouldn’t stilled if he was capable of moving in the first place because…yeah, he’s basically figured he was being left here. Was pretty much solidly on his way to making his peace with it too when feet landed close to his knees and lips closed over his own and the rest is…

Is now. Where Steve Harrington doesn’t leave Eddie Munson, even as the world ends in their fucking faces and all proves to be as good as lost.

He won’t settle for them counting among the loses and that’s…

That’s just kinda…wow.

“Was really banking pretty hard on that feeling, too,” and Eddie hears Steve’s voice strain a little, even as there comes a little tiny huff of slightly manic laughter, and a rip of fabric from fuck knows where. “Want to get to know you better, Munson,” he says, tight like he’s holding up tensions, or swallowing back pain and Eddie doesn’t like that, and likes even less that he can do fuck all about it right now.

But if they’re gonna be in the business of getting to know each other better, then Eddie’s filing that sound away in the ‘keep that shit away from Steve forever’ file.

Eddie likes dealing with forevers in his head, because they so rarely work out for him in life. He craves disappointment, maybe; but.

“Walking through the woods, half-fucking paralyzed was some of the,” Steve starts, honest and earnest before Eddie catches half-a-shrug out the corner of his eye and…maybe he’s not the only one who deals in forevers in their head, and if he’s suddenly not the only one, maybe less disappointing could possibly be imminent.

Maybe.

“It was nice, talking to you,” and the tone of his voice in admitting it makes the whole shebang another thing for the getting-to-know-Steve file: lift this man’s standards out of the fucking gutter—then his tone’s turning sorta wry:

“Even if it was mostly about how you were impressed that I was less of a douche than advertised.”

Eddie wants desperately to laugh, to bump shoulders with Steve again like he did a little, tries for more when they were walking side by side, he wants so fucking bad—

Then there’s fire in his fucking throat.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve sounds more startled than concerned, where Eddie’s kinda afraid his neck is melting into lava or some shit; “yeah, yeah, baby,” and hold the fuck up, what did Steve just say, what did Steve just call him? Our of nowhere?

The lava feeling’s way less important; in fact, takes enough of a back step to make some sense with Steve’s neck words, with his hand back in Eddie’s chest to brace his shoulder:

“You’re coming back, just keep,” he’d tries to laugh, and the sound had gotten lost on Eddie in the agony but it hadn’t been lost in Steve, his baby, holy fucking shit—

“Oh.”

Steve’s tone is something entirely new; awed a little, floored a little, not bad, so that’s a plus, but…overwhelmed like at the edges but then fucking ecstatic in the middle, which down here shouldn’t even be possible, until his hand pressed a little harder into Eddie’s ribs on the less mangled side and—

“Strong enough to feel, now, even when I still can’t feel everything,” Steve’s face swims, gorgeous and kinda like an answer to the universe in the minimal view space Eddie has to work with as he slowly crawls back online, a process not actually being helped by Eddie putting together what’s causing Steve’s reaction—the way his heart’s pumping’s growing a little undeniable even on his own end, and Steve’s hand feeling the raw effects of Steve on Eddie’s body right now isn’t helping matters at-fucking-all, but also Eddie never wants that touch to leave him ever fucking again, ever.

It’s a delicate sort of contradiction.

“Shit, yeah,” and Steve’s laughing, and it’s a soft joy-tinged thing less than the manic hysteria thus far.

Eddie’s fucking toast, man. No hope for him now.

“Strong enough even if I’m kinda fucking shaking,” Steve holds out his hand that, yeah, is in fact a little trembly but hey.

Eddie can’t feel shit yet too good, but he’s almost certain he’s got to be no better. Blood in his veins certainly ain’t winning any awards for steadiness.

And Steve leans down, this time back with another one of those vaguely hysterical laughs and Eddie can’t see everything outside of the angle his head’s held at just now, and the whole problem really starts with how he can’t feel a lot of shit á la bat venom, but.

If Eddie had any money, he’d actually wager that Steve fucking Harrington. Just touched his lips to Eddie’s neck, just kissed where his pulse would kick between his collarbones. And, true or not, the possibility of that?

Holy fucking shit.

“I hope these aren’t too tight,” Eddie sees the motion from Steve’s shoulder, feels…or thinks he feels the lightest ghost of pressure at his fucked up side: tight. The tearing from before; Steve had been wrapping his sorry ass up.

Talk about Eddie’s goddamn knight in shining armor, Jesus fuck.

“Pretty sure it came down to the fact that their poison hit me like it did because of where they got me the worse, and that’s what made me hope in the first place, you know. Your worst bleeders are in the meat,” and yeah, Eddie really does think that’s real sensation for the soft press of Steve’s hand at his flank, not say nothing of the burning flush to his cheeks, blood’s moving just fine there.

“Fucking deep but not so close to the bloodstream, to pump around and make it worse,” and he touches Eddie’s neck again, and ah: that was why Steve had the reaction he did, mainline to the ticker to get it all swum around. “More of it in you, obviously, because there were more of them, more teeth, but not up here,” and fuck Steve Harrington for the way his hand brushes Eddie’s neck almost tender-like, just…fuck him; “no a direct fucking line to the source.”

Yes. Fuck him. Preferably soon and with Eddie at full sensation and on a horizontal surface that’s not bloodsoaked and vaguely reeking of rot.

Just, y’know. If anyone’s taking note of preferences.

“Thank god for it,” Steve breathes out, the air fluttering over Eddie’s face and he can feel it and he wants to cry, he wants to jump up and dance; can’t do that year but his pulse makes a damn good attempt.

“But yeah, anyway, just walking through hell with you was,” Steve shifts back to the part where he’d seemed to be extolling the virtues of apocalyptic flirting, but before Eddie can file it away to do so much better in whatever’s to come? Steve’s slotting his fingers between Eddie’s own; he can’t feel the whole of it, but he damn well feels enough to know the way they fit is perfect, like they were cut form the same clay millennia ago.

Of course Eddie’s heart goes flippy-floppy again; it fucking has to.

“Not the part about Nance so much, though.”

And Eddie thinks he frowns because…oh.

Oh right, yeah, he really hasn’t had a glimmer of hope in hell that what kinda feels like is happening right now was even on the goddamn table, so…maybe he had tried to funnel his sense of pure and unadulterated loss into at east giving the boy he wanted, what < i >that boy wanted.

Whoops.

Won’t be making that mistake ever again, though, at least. Lesson learned, loud and clear.

“That’s been and gone, man,” steve sighs, a if Eddie needs more convincing. “And I don’t want to go back to where I left it. I want to love someone, who loves me.”

It feels heavy and vulnerable, but all Eddie wants to do is shot me, it can be me, let me have the adventure of learning how to love every bit of you better than you ever thought to even hope after pretty fucking please with a goddamn cherry on top—

“So she’s,” Steve huffs, definitive-like: “out of the picture. She could maybe learn to be that, but, and Steve moves, the most intentionally he’s done it so far to look Eddie straight in the eye when he wraps up the point:

“I’m not interested enough to wait.”

Which means it’s no fucking coincidence, that eye-contact, and Eddie’s ping-ponging pulse for it is 100% prevent valid and then some.

“And I know can’t talk right now, so I get this isn’t really,” Steve sucks his teeth in a genuinely unbearably adorable way; “fair, or probably even like, wholly ethical,” and Eddie’s only been around for days but that sounds like Robin right there, and the feeling of a dangerous pull near his cheek makes him think the urge to smile wasn’t wholly ignored by his beat to shit body, fucking progress.

“So think of it just like a,” he hums, then snaps his fingers as he lands on: “suggestion! A suggestion. Like me, just, putting it out there, which I usually do before anyone feels the same way anyway so this is just like, variation on the theme, but,” and Steve’s eyes are so big, Eddie’s never seen them looks this way before while Steve tips his whole face so Eddie can watch before he can sit up or turn his neck, must be fucking painful but he doesn’t even flinch, and Eddie’s only ever just kinda fallen for the puppy droop of those gorgeous eyes. Now they’re all, big and wide and bright and breathless and holy shit, Eddie’s really is just so screwedbest thing ever.

“I want to take you to dinner, a movie.”

Okay, hold up. That idea, said out loud and meant and directed to him: that might be the best thing ever.

“Maybe a drive in so no one will see if you let me hold your hand, or put my arm around you, or start necking with you halfway through,” like that isn’t making Eddie wonder if he just can’t feel the hard on every piece of him is very convinced he has to have right now, if his body can actually pony up just yet.

“If you want, of course. We could go slow,” and it’s like Steve’s thought about it, like this isn’t just adrenaline and near-death and zero impulse control. It’s most like he…like he actually wants. “Just a movie, even like at my house. Or yours. After they,” Steve clears his throat, the only part he’s even hinted awkwardness in; “after they take care of that.”

Ah. Right. Eddie probably does now have a trailer anymore.

Weird how little he’s caring about that at the moment.

“I could cook, I’m not bad at it,” Steve’s ploughing in with secret knowledge because: Harrington. Apron. Sauce on his cheek. KO-fucking punch to the heart, no survivors.

“Takeout’s fine too, I’d get whatever you wanted,” he pivots before trialing of, chewing his bottom lip then saying a little softer:

“But I would look up recipes too, practice to learn your favorite foods.”

And maybe Eddie really was never supposed to survive the Upside Down. He just maybe completely misinterpreted the way he was gonna fuckin’ die .

“I’d kiss you at the door if that’s okay, if that’s not to far,” then Steve’s bit-sparkle eyes darken even in the hell-dim around them; “or take you to bed if you wanted, but only as much as you were sure.”

And y’known how Eddie’s heat’s been flippy-flopping?

What it starts doing then leave that schoolgirl shit to dhame.

“I want to date you, basically,” and Steve’s shoulders are all squared up, like he’s making a pitch that has any chance of failing, and Eddie does have some working knowing of the past failures…thing, but he genuinely believes those fuckers have been at least partially brain dead to leave a man like this free for the taking, by Eddie of all fucking people.

“I want to try, and see if we can be something,” and the way he says those words, it’s…it’s like a soft perfect flame in Eddie’s chest, the first thing he thinks he can feel again fucking perfectly right,

“‘Cause fuck Eddie, I’ve been looking for something for what feels like forever, and the only thing I keep coming back to for any of it is thinking about you, and ain’t that a plot twist, the deepening of the idea that any of this stretched last what started in that fucking boathouse. “Had a whole-ass sexual awakening over you when you started shepherding my kids, can’t let that go to waste, man.”

And holy shit, dude. Eddie can’t leave him hanging on that confession no matter how mostly-carefree his smile stretches. Because Steve’s been in it since last fall?

Well, Eddie’s not one to easily be outdone.

“What?” Steve squints at Eddie’s face which…okay. He probably looks absurd but he’s trying really hard here, and miming isn’t easy when your muscles don’t want to get on board, yeah?

“Are you,” Steve scrunches his nose; tips his head; considers; “are you trying to,” he frowns, like he’s ready to dismiss what he’s guessing but then says fuck it and leaps:

“Are you trying to whistle?”

Yes, oh my god, sign him up for his marriage license for real, they’re meant to fucking be.

It takes Steve a second to make sense of the absurdity, and the fact that it’s only a second is a feat in itself:

“When I was a lifeguard?”

Eddie watches the timeframe, the length of admittedly varying types and depths but always constant infatuation, start to sink in and then:

“Jesus, Munson, for real?”

And lips are coming for his lips, and he’s real hopeful he can feel them this time but: no. Not yet.

But they fill his lungs up quick and full where he’s getting better which breathing by the minute, but. Any but if a boost is appreciated.

Especially from those lips, felt fully yet or not.

“That’s just because I’m gonna lift you up here in a second to crry you, and it’s gonna hurt like fuck no matter how gentle I try to be,” Steve warns him; “so breathe as slow as you can until I can lay you back down topside.”

Right. Right, because…the Upside Down was breaking apart and they’ve been here how long, fuck, they need to get a mov on…probably.

But Steve doesn’t seem concerned about anything but getting his arms around Eddie to pick him up just right, and then staring at him all star-bright bbsome more, and that’s…way more pressing, to be honest.

“But when we get there,” Steve glances behind him; “how about we look into doing that in a way that’s more spit-swapping, less rescue breathing, that cool?”

And holy fucking shit, Eddie genuinely believes right now that he could fall in love with this motherfucker, what the actual hell.

That, and he thinks he’s gonna enjoy it, to boot.

Jesus H. Christ on a goddamn cracker—

He’s looking forward to it more than the air in his fucking lungs could even hope to rank.

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[mirrorofliterature]

Hi! You write about Star Wars in an interesting way. More often about Anakin, but may I ask what do you think of Darth Vader?

first of all, thank you! it's the 'I have been studying societies and law for long enough that it seeps into my every thought, including the institutions of star wars'

darth vader is a tragic pathetic little guy, to me

darth vader is not a monster - he is human, and he does monstrous things, but he's not simply ~evil~. people overestimate the amount of power he has in the empire (leia literally says in the OPENING SCENES OF ANH that vader is on tarkin's leash), and try to inaccurately pin all the empire's evilness onto him and him alone, like palpatine is right there.

he is a walking corpse. hurt people hurt people. he inflicts terrors on trillions of sentients; has committed more mass atrocities and crimes against humanity that can possibly be created, yet he is an inherently tragic figure trapped, abused and enslaved by palpatine

vader is evil not because he enjoys it, but because he is depressed and apathetic, truly reflective of the banality of evil (hannah arendt. he is trapped in his suit; he feels like he has no one left but palpatine, no reason to leave (which luke does change, but by the point he learns about luke... it has been so long). he is so, so alone.

darth vader is an iconic villain. his character is fascinating. he is pathetic. he is mainly bad, but a little bit good, he ironically becomes perfectly apathetic and detached like the jedi always wanted him to be the second he becomes a full-fledged sith.

he is a walking cautionary tale that ignoring trauma and not addressing systemic oppression and violence will only beget more violence; he is a symptom of the republic becoming corrupted into an empire through ignoring slavery, being apathetic and fighting pointless wars as well as the jedi's neglect and stagnation (letting children to meet with politicians without supervision is a breach of duty of care)

and do not be fooled, he is anakin skywalker: twisted, corrupted, yet still the chosen one who ends the sith, the worst timeline for anakin skywalker; he is not anakin skywalker's inevitable future, but he is not a surprising result

[tobeholyistobeempty]

yall know what haunts me at night? that one scene of graves and soap where graves is like ‘i’m doing my fucking job, you should try it sometime’ and soap is like ‘my job is killing the enemy. guess what you are’

LIKE OKAYYYYYYYY CHILL ??????

[spacedlexi]

clem has worn similar clothes to vi in the past honestly their styles are pretty similar but like.. 2 inches to the left of each other. i think vi is more androgynous with it and likes to hide under her clothes while clem doesnt wear anything Too baggy the way vi does. so i think they can both pull it off but theyre gonna be mildly uncomfortable about it