It's a quiet night in with just the two of them - Wayne having already left for work. A gentle drizzle has settled over the trailer park.
Eddie's hunched over at his desk with the old table lamp on, painting his latest miniature for the upcoming campaign. Steve's perched on the bed right near him, using that same lamp light to read one of Wayne's magazines. A tape randomly picked from their collection plays in the background.
There's a quiet 'clink' as Eddie rinses his brush in the paint-water cup (newly labeled after one to many mix-ups). The brush is dried then slotted into the cracked mug holding the rest of his painting tool hoard.
He pauses to stretch out his back from its scrunched position, scars giving a minor twinge at the action. Then reaches for his small, detailing brush.
Only, it's not where he put it last.
It's not on the pallet. Didn't slip under the paper towel. Sitting in the paintbrush mug? Nope. Roll onto the floor? No dice. (Well actually, many dice. Including the d8 he lost last week, he should remember to grab that later (he won't)).
It's as he's pulling his head back out from under the desk that he notices it.
The subtle, upturned pinch at the corner of Steve's mouth.
Like he's fighting not to smile. Trying to act like he hasn't noticed Eddie's obvious searching.
"Steve?"
"Mhm?" The thief doesn't even deign to look up from the magazine.
"Have you seen my small detail brush? Bright red handle?”
"Nope."
Right, of course. Because the hand Steve wasn't using to hold his magazine just happened to be tucked behind his back, out of sight.
Clearly this called for drastic measures.
Without giving the other a chance to react, Eddie lurches forward to push his boyfriend back onto the bed, simultaneously planting himself atop Steve's legs.
"You sure about that one, loverboy?"
Steve crinkles his nose with a slight blush at the pet name. Then reaches up with the hand that previously held the magazine (that has now ended up in the abyss of the floor, sorry Wayne).
Eddie stills, curious to see how Steve will defend himself, as the hand continues up... and plucks the missing paintbrush from behind Eddie's ear. Where Eddie had earlier, unthinkingly stashed it.
Steve's face breaks out into a grin at Eddie's affronted noise.
"What do you have to say for yourself now, Eds? Accusing your boyfriend of such a heinous crime?"
Eddie hums, rolling the now reclaimed brush in his fingers, staring down at the boy beneath him. His sure-fire grin. Eyes crinkled in mirth. How the soft lamp light and dappled moonlight played across his features.
He leans down, hovering over the other.
"I say that I'd forgive you anyway. How could I not, with such a pretty face like that."
They meet in a gentle kiss. No rush as they simply enjoy the other's company. Warm in the knowledge there's nowhere else they need to be tonight. The tape clicks as it finishes and the rain becomes their only background noise. They seperate.
"Mmgood. Cause I did steal your paint tube."
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What funny for me it's when I see some people in radioapple fandom saying why they can't see Alastor as a bottom is because "he would never be a bottom because of his ego!" (and right under a post with b!Alastor content, the nerve)
Meanwhile Lucifer, King of all Hell, Sin of Pride personified, the man who stole Adam's first wife and claimed to do the same with the second, and had two songs about how great he is compared to others: am I a joke to you?
EXACTLY! Preach Anon!
Lucifer's ego is just as big, if not bigger, than Alastor's. I was rewatching the show recently, and during the "Dad Beat Dad" episode, literally the only person he was nervous, bumbling, or awkward around was Charlie (and Vaggie, to a certain degree considering she's Charlie's girlfriend).
In every other interaction he was smug, arrogant, indifferent, unimpressed, or downright dismissive. His whole song with Alastor was just him flexing his power and getting more and more insecure & angry about how "close" Alastor and Charlie were. I think people forget that Lucifer is the Sin of Pride, and you can 100% see it in his behavior towards the other characters. Obviously, he got closer to the Hazbin Crew, especially during the last song in the finale, but that doesn't make his ego magically disappear.
And I love that about him.
I find his huge capacity to love (both Charlie and creation) so endearing, but it's better and so much more interesting, when it's paired with the fact that his ego gets bruised so easily. He's the most powerful being in Hell, while also being insecure as fuck, while also being the personification of Pride itself. Is that not the tastiest, most delectable character to ever character????
Look, yes, Lucifer is depressed. He and Lilith got divorced. He and Charlie were estranged to each other for years. He lost his will to dream after being cast out from Heaven. He spent all his time making little rubber ducks, locked away in his room. But that doesn't, by any means, make the man humble.
If you look at Alastor and say he's got too big of an ego to bottom, and then turn around and make Lucifer the most bottomy bottom ever, then I say go back and rewatch the show, cuz you're missing a few very important factors. Especially if you're basing someone's capacity to bottom on ego alone. (I, personally, love it when prideful, egotistical characters bottom. It's so much fun).
Mostly just...hhhhhh, please stop stripping away all of my short-kings most interesting characteristics. I don't want a small, wide-eyed, easily manipulated little UwU soft boi. I want snarky, powerful as fuck, insecure, egotistical, provocative short-king who gets pissy when his daughter talks to a homicidal deer man with a silly haircut instead of him (while also being very soft, loving, and caring). He's multi-faceted, and that's what makes him interesting.
Once again, this isn't me getting after people who enjoy top!Alastor and bottom!Lucifer. Do what you want, I hope you're having fun. Just don't go commenting below other people's posts with shit like "Alastor wouldn't bottom because of his ego," when Lucifer is just as much of an egotistical little shit as he is.
Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.
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Vagueblogging a little, but this sucks actually. Apologies for my disorganized thoughts. I’m not much of a writer.
I get that they were hurting, but I feel like they didn’t consider the people they collaborated with at all. I only lost one piece, but I know I’m not the only one. I had a podficcer tell me they were having panic attacks not knowing if they’d be asked to take down all their work podficcing this author, following this.
Like a heads up at least :/
I’ve been taking a few days to process this since I’ve had a lot else going on. Since I saw this, I have gotten a massage, watered my plants, touched some grass, pondered over my feelings a few separate times. It still sucks.
I love the Big Bang format, but I do feel like you encounter an attitude that the author’s work is the only component that matters sometimes.
I’ve had a lot of my art orphaned as authors pull their bang fics down, or fail to produce them at all — which, you know, is their right. My art was also posted separately on ao3 typically, and I don’t consider the effort wasted, because I love the process of collaboration, and I think it pushes me to make art in ways I wouldn’t think of myself.
But this is the first time I’ve had an author pull down something that, frankly, they were pretty minimally involved in. It contained a paragraph of their work, read by a podficcer, along with some animation (my first real go at animation in 10ish years! It was only six frames), some sound fx, etc.
I didn’t think we were pals or anything. I only worked with them the once, and I’m always cautious of putting an emotional burden on people that are getting a lot of attention, positive and negative, by acting like we’re friends. But I did enjoy working with them and thought there was some level of mutual respect as creators.
This piece is still on tumblr, and me and the other collaborators still have it where it was hosted from to post to ao3, but this was not a great thing to wake up to last week. It’s not that I was really attached to this piece, or even to the comments on the piece. For me it’s more the… social aspect I guess? Not so for everyone, I’ve had a few people tell me that this makes them want to never use the collaboration feature on ao3, if somebody could just hit “delete all” and never even consider the effect on the other co-authors. I love collaborating, and I don’t think I would do anything differently than what I did in the future.
It’s just still a little hurtful.
That all said, I hope they’re okay, or on the way to being okay.
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Here to say I’m missing Thenamesh Rus AU and this is in fact a prompt 😅 (sorry I have two brain cells and neither of them are working to formulate a real prompt but I appreciate anything u give us!!!)
Gil strolled through the crowd. He was coming off watch duty, although now that winter was over and spring was approaching, it wasn't quite so agonising. Even so, he was still volunteering to cover Thena's watch when at all possible for her.
He only relented when Thena herself insisted on him staying inside and resting in the warmth of his room.
The humans called it Maslenitsa, or some form of it. They were celebrating, and the sizzling of hot cakes could be heard all over the place. People had cast iron out over the fires, flipping the fluffy, sugary confections.
"Hot cake, Strong One?"
He tilted his head at the offer. There were plenty of other fires making hot cakes, and he had to admit he was curious to ask about how the technique and recipes varied between them all. But this one was already being held out to him; it seemed rude to ignore it. "Oh, uh, thanks."
The woman smiled, leaning on her knees and resting her chin in her palm. "You and your merry band should enjoy Maslenitsa. The nights will become shorter and the sun will be strong."
"That's good," Gil murmured, even looking up at the sky to admire the colour of it. Thena could do with a little more sun, after all. He chewed the hot cake. He thought it could do with a finer grind on the wheat they used, but it was tasty (hot butter and melted sugar would, of course, do that for anything). "This is good."
"It's a newer technique, the old ones don't always add the sugar," the woman smiled, flicking a long train of dark hair over her shoulder. "But I quite like to try new things."
Gil took another bite; the sugar did a lot to add to the light texture, he thought. Surely adding only butter would just be eating a flat biscuit, or soft hardtack.
"Where is the Warrior?"
Gil blinked, surprised she was asking. But he supposed he was rarely without Thena. Many of the people in this country had light yellow hair--more here than anywhere else they had stayed. But Thena's hair was the envy of many of them. It was great hair. "We all shift the responsibility of looking out for trouble. I'm sure she's around here somewhere."
"I see."
Gil licked his fingers finishing off the cake. "Thanks--it's-"
"Have another."
He was going to refuse politely. There were more he could try if he wanted to. But she was already extending another one. His insides squirmed. "Well, okay then."
"The attacks on our walls are lessening," the woman continued to make light conversation as he ate. Her eyelids fluttered and her lips pursed faintly. "Will you and your ilk disappear again?"
Gil thought about his words. They had been here long enough that most had accepted that they were part of the royal party, as it were. It was a sign they were assimilating effectively if people didn't think of them as temporary presences. The more they could muddy the waters around their connection to Deviant attacks the better.
Greece was all but convinced for three whole generations that Thena had fallen from the sky like an angel from the moment Athens was built. Most had forgotten that they had simply showed up one day.
"Your presence would be sorely missed."
Well, that was nice of her to say. Gil mulled on things with his mouth full of hot cake. What to say? They would, in fact, disappear sooner than later. "Uh, I guess we'll see what the Queen decides."
"Of course," the woman lowered her eyes. Sankta Olga's rule was beyond question, after all. She peeked at him coquettishly. "Would you like to know how to make the bliny?"
Apparently that was the hot cake sizzling in butter. He was curious. "Hm, I-"
"There you are."
Gil's face broke into a grin, "there you are--been looking for you."
"Is that so," Thena purred in a funny tone. She let him pull her closer to him, but her eyes were on the stranger. That was common for the Warrior Eternal though.
"Warrior," the woman curtsied to her.
"Have you had these?" Gil asked, gesturing with the half-finished hot cake in his hand. In truth, he had eaten this one slowly, wondering if he might find her and let her have the rest of it. "They're pretty good."
Thena observed the cake briefly before eyeing the woman again. "Tempting, are they?"
The woman shrank back some, letting more than just the fire separate them. Gil wasn't sure what had spooked her, but he held up the cake for Thena to try. "I think you'll like them. Try it."
Thena dragged her eyes away from the woman. She looked at the cake, but ultimately moved his hand out of her way, albeit gently. Her hand remained clasped around his larger one as she smiled, "I shall."
His eyes slid closed as she raised her lips to his. It was a simple peck at first, but she lingered, waiting for further access. Her tongue slithered past his, tracing around his mouth for the hot butter and syrup lingering there. His other arm came up to wrap around her waist completely.
"Hm," Thena moaned pleasantly. She leaned back, licking those perfect lips of hers. Her eyes had a mischievous sparkle in them, "delicious."
Gil blushed, although the woman had needed to look away from such a display.
"I quite like it," Thena added, continuing on as if the kiss had not occurred. She looked at the woman who was now too embarrassed to look at either of them. "I would like one as well."
"O-Of course, Warrior," the woman stuttered, her earlier smoothness and charisma leaving her. She handed over a fresh one from off the iron.
Gil swept it up into his free hand. Thena looked at him, pouting cutely. But he grinned, "it's hot. I'll hold it for you."
Thena rolled her eyes at his chivalry; it was not as though she were human, she could hold something as hot as that. It was no raw, molten iron straight from the fire, like he could. But she allowed it, bending her head to take a delicate bite of her fresh bliny.
He took a bite of his remaining one to finish it off. He raised his brows at her, curious if she wanted the last of this one straight from his mouth, but she shook her head, taking his arm and leading him away from the mortified human.
"You must get better at perceiving when women are hinting at you."
"Hinting what?" he asked. He thought he was pretty good at reading people, actually. He could read a room, he was quite sure. Maybe sometimes a few things might go over his head, but that was what he had her for--to watch his blind spots.
Thena just smiled, dusting some crumbs out of the fur on his shoulders. Soon, they wouldn't need to be draped in furs all the time. "Had I not arrived when I did, I do believe she would have asked you to sample more--the way I did with you?"
He furrowed his brows; that seemed impractical. But oh!--she meant the woman was trying to flirt her way into his arms! She was right, he was terrible at picking up those kinds of signals. He pouted right back at her, "you know I don't pay attention to how mortal women communicate that...stuff."
Thena must have been feeling the good weather. Rather than glare at him, her energy crackling and sparking in her palms, she let her amusement show. She ran her hand down his chest again, tilting her head to peck right at the corner of his lips. She pulled back, licking her lips again; he must have had crumbs there. "Indeed."
He chuckled; if she was happy, then he was too. He nuzzled the tips of their noses together, "sorry, Solnyshkuh."
She sighed cutely, feigning some maidenly distress. "I suppose it is not your fault you are so desired."
"Hey, speak for yourself," he grinned, continuing to lead her through the festivities with their arms wound together. "I witnessed several proposal attempts at that last ball we went to."
She laughed. "Those entertain you as much as they do, me."
That was true; they always had a good chuckle about it later. "And will you laugh about this with me later?"
Thena eyed his lips for a moment. "Later."
Fine with him, she could stake her territory all she liked with him. He would resign himself to it happily.
"I would like to know how they make them," he murmured, looking around at the various other offerings of bliny and flatbreads and cheese.
"I'm certain you need only ask," Thena also looked around them. Several women waved at them; she scowled again. "Perhaps the royal cook--the old one with the moustache."
He chuckled again. He tilted her chin back to him, using her good mood to sneak yet another kiss. "Whose am I?"
She lit, like the sun itself. "Mine."
"Whose?" he repeated, kissing her cheek as reverently as a goddess deserved.
"Gil," she laughed, chiding him lightly, although it came out airy as he tickling below her jaw with his teeth. "Mine."
"All yours," he swore, even canoodling in the middle of an open market. "Besides-"
Thena drew her brows together at his significant pause. Although they shot up as he snuck his hands under her heavy cloak to give the behind of her dress a pat.
"Your hotcakes are still the best."
"Gilgamesh!"
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