#this was longer than intended

[the-whispers-of-death]

So per the results of the poll I did two days ago, Knight!Price is in love with a gender-neutral Reader/Sovereign!Reader. While it is gender-neutral, Reader has shoulder-length hair to symbolize that their kingdom is in a time of peace. Like with Knight!Ghost, I just made up a kingdom name. CW: Assassination attempt on Reader (Price protects you, dw) Part One, Part Two

**

You were out and about in Wixia, the capital city of your kingdom, Orithia. You were in the city square, playing with the kids and enjoying being with your people. Your laughter filled the air as you playfully chased kids and watched them squeal.

Your loyal knights of your Royal Guard managed to keep up with you as you chased after the kids, dutifully watching over you. One of those knights was the head of the Royal Guard, John Price. A man who had been your loyal knight ever since you took the throne many years ago when you turned eighteen.

John kept his eyes on you, taking in every inch of your sweat-laden skin. His eyes roamed all over, taking in your beautiful shoulder-length hair, a symbol of how Ortihia was in an era of peace. He drank in the sight of your beautiful colored eyes, alight with such intense joy. How your movements were so graceful as you played with your younger subjects.

You and the children eventually stopped running to catch your breaths, breathy laughter escaping from your lips. As you were catching your breath, another kid ran up to you, carrying a hand-crafted flower crown.

"Oh, is this for me?" you asked, smiling as you took the flower crown gently from the child. Your smile widened when they nodded. "In that case, I'll be honored to wear this flower crown."

You beckoned John forward and when he was near, you took off your jeweled crown and placed it in his awaiting hands. It was unusual for a ruler to take off their crown in front of their subjects, but you weren't a regular ruler. You replaced the jeweled crown with the flower crown, placing it upon your head.

You turned to John, tilting your head up slightly to look him in the eyes. "How do I look, Sir John?"

"You look splendid, Your Majesty," John responded, staring at the flower crown upon your head instead of in your eyes.

If you had looked closer, you'd see how blown-out his pupils were, like you were the most breathtaking person he had ever seen.

"Thank you—"

Your words were cut off by the crowd around you crying out as a man wielding a sword pushed through them. The children around you scattered in fear as the man threw his sword in your direction.

It felt like it was all happening in slow-motion. You saw the sword fly through the air towards you, could see in your mind's eye the sword hitting its target; you. But you were frozen in place, your body not responding to your brain telling you to dodge the incoming sword.

And the sword came, but it didn't hit you. John twisted his body so his covered yours, the sword hitting his armor and bouncing off it—thankfully.

Chaos erupted, people screaming as they picked up their children and ran to their homes. The City Guards were half pursuing the man and the other half was somewhere else.

"My people," you gasped as John picked you up to carry you back to the horses. "I can't leave them!"

John had been calling out orders to the rest of the Royal Guard, telling them to cover you and to bring the horses. He looked down at you and responded, "The City Guards will ensure the people get to their homes safely. The other half are guiding people through the streets, look."

As he placed you on his horse, you saw that the other half of the City Guards that you hadn't seen before in the chaos were indeed helping your people go to their houses. As you were watching them all, John got behind you on his horse and leaned forward to grab the reins.

"We're leaving!" He called out to the rest of the Royal Guard. With those words, he flicked the reins and nudged the horse into a gallop towards the palace.

-----------

Hours had passed by since the assassination attempt in the city square, and you were confined to your palace. It was now nighttime, the sun having set two hours ago.

You paced your bedchambers, having not seen John since your arrival to the palace.

You knew he was with the palace guards, fortifying the security of the palace. He was doing important work, securing your safety, but you couldn't help but be worried.

He took a sword for you. Yes, it bounced off his armor, but surely it must've bruised him even with the armor on. You had an urge to seek him out, make sure he was okay, and you told yourself that you'd do that with any other knight in your Royal Guard.

"I'm going to find Sir John," you said to the knights outside your bedchambers when you opened the door. "Does anyone know where he is?"

One of the knights shifted on her feet, clearly unused to you speaking to anyone during the nighttime. "He should be in his bedchambers, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice soft and reverent towards you. "Shall I escort you there?"

You nodded and that was all the answer she needed. Her boots clicked on the cobble-stoned floor as she led you towards the wing of the palace where the knights' bedchambers were. You followed her, nodding politely to anyone who bowed to you as you both made your way to John's bedchambers.

It didn't take you long to reach the bedchambers once you were in the wing where the knights all slept, since John had to be the closest in case he had to get to your wing in the middle of the night. The knight escorting you stopped before reaching the bedchambers, leaving you to walk to the doors alone to have privacy.

You walked to the imposing doors and knocked via the door knocker, waiting for John's response.

"Come in," he said shortly thereafter, his voice gruff as always.

You pushed open one of the doors, going inside the bedchambers. John was sitting on his bed, his armor and undershirt off to reveal his abdomen being bandaged. He seemed flustered that you were seeing him in such an undressed manner, scrambling for his undershirt as you ignored his apologies to walk towards him. You were too focused on the bandaged.

"You're injured," you murmured, your eyes on the bandages. You stopped in front of him and without thinking, you gently touched the bandages.

John winced, whether because he was in pain or because you were touching him, you didn't know.

"Just some bruises, nothing to be worried about, Your Majesty," he assured. His words were softer now, his breath hitting your cheek since you two were so close.

You looked up at him, staring into his beautiful blue eyes. "You put yourself in front of an incoming sword for me," you stated, as if he had somehow forgotten all that transpired earlier.

"You're my Sovereign, Your Majesty. It's my duty to take swords for you," he replied, his voice steady now. With your hand still on the bandages, he reached down to place his hand on top of yours. "I'm honored to be able to protect you and I would place myself in front of you to take whatever weapons coming your way all day, every day."

"Duty, is that the only reason you did it?" you asked, unable to help yourself.

John's eyebrows furrowed, confused at the sudden question. "Of course, Your Majesty. I am loyal to you and the throne."

The answer stung and you didn't know why. So you pulled back from him, masking the hurt with a smile.

"I should leave you to rest, Sir John. Have a good night."

With those words, you turned on your heel and left his bedchambers, closing the door behind you. John stared at where you were, confused even more.

Was that not the right answer? Did you not believe him?

The question was to test him, he told himself. Your way of making sure he was still loyal. And he was. He would never dare turning away from you.

You were his Sovereign, someone he'd follow into battle any day. You were kind, never once raising your voice at your subjects. Your diplomacy skills enabled you to keep the kingdom in the time of peace that your mother ushered in before she died.

You were someone he admired greatly.

And he also shamefully dreamt of you. Dreamt of holding you close to him, sleeping beside you and waking up to your bedhead in the morning. Dreamt of being the man you loved.

It was truly shameful of him to do so, which was why he had to limit his answer to saying he was loyal to you and the throne. Truth be told, he was only loyal to you. If you decided to not be Sovereign of Orithia one day, he'd follow you to wherever you went.

And that was dangerous.

You trusted him to protect you, to protect the people of Orithia. He had to push down his feelings for you, so he could be the knight you needed.

He sighed and ran his hand through his brown hair, sitting back down on the bed.

All he needed to do was not act on his feelings.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

#john price #captain price #captain john price #cod price #john price x male reader #john price x gender neutral reader #john price x reader #john price x female reader #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x gender neutral reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price x female reader #captain price x male reader #captain price x gender neutral reader #captain price x reader #captain price x female reader #price x male reader #price x gender neutral reader #price x reader #price x female reader #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #knight!price #this was longer than intended #:)

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Headcannons for Luci finding out his s/o is a virgin please and thank you

Oh I'm so ready for this ask!!

So, if you want a little backstory about me, I'm in the same boat. It's not that I don't have ANY experience, but it's extremely lacking (hooray for the aspec experience)

Lucifer, in my opinion, would be over the moon yet nervous at the same time. On the one hand, he's honored that he'd be the first one to show you how good sex can be, but on the other hand, he'd be worried about taking that from you. He'd do everything to make sure that this is actually what you want and he definitely doesn’t want to cross any boundaries with you. Once you've told him you're certain that you want him to be your first, he's practically bouncing off the walls! Of course he asks you what you are and aren’t ok with before anything starts. If you guys somehow missed talking about something, he’d stop whatever he was doing and get your approval first.

Everything is at a snail’s pace with him during your first time. He spends a long time kissing you, feeling up and down your arms, your stomach, your hips. He asks permission for everything. He asks if he can touch and suck at your breasts, if he can leave hickies and other marks on your body, if he can remove your shorts. He gets hard just at the thought of touching and tasting your wet pussy. Once you give him the okay, his hands are delicate as he starts moving his fingers against your folds. He lives for the sounds you’re making because of him. “Can I taste you, my love?” he’d ask sweetly before you nod and give him a faint “yes, please…”

He’s slow at first, as not to overstimulate you during your first time. Once he finds what causes you to make the loudest sounds, he focuses on that area for a long time. It’s not long before you’re cumming on his face, and him man laps you up like he’s dying of thirst. He’d definitely being doing that again with your again, but he figures it’s time for the actual thing. Of course, he knows he’s a little bit on the larger side plus you haven’t done this before at all, so he does his best to warn you. “Darling, this may hurt a little bit. If you need me to stop, just say the word, ok? I’ll be as gentle as possible. Relax as much as you can for me.” Lethargically, he presses himself into you. You can feel some pain as he pushes himself deeper. After he’s all the way in, you have to catch your breath. “Hurts…a little…g-gimme a minute, please.” He responds with a kiss to your lips and says “Take as much time as you need, you’re doing so well. Let me know when I’m alright to move.” You intake a few deep breaths and slowly the pain rescinds, now replaced with only pleasure. “Y-You can move now, Luci…” you murmur. He smiles, slowly removing himself from you, only to thrust his hips forward again. It’s pure ecstasy. It’s not long before he’s absolutely rutting himself into you at a relentless pace, wanting to feel you cum on his cock. He gets his wish, and he feels you pulsate around him as you cry out his name. Your own orgasm triggers his own, spilling his hot seed into (which you told him was okay before)

Lucifer collapses on top of you, still inside of you. “S-So, how was your first time?” he asks coyly. You know he had to ask, son of pride and all! “Wonderful! And it won’t be the last.” You tease him. His face goes red, and you can feel him twitch inside of you. You guys are definitely not done just yet.

#ask #anon #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #this was longer than intended #enjoy the small smut babes lol #first time stuff is my fav I’m sorry!

[sucrosette]

★— ⋆｡˚ [Finding Myself In Baz Pitch]

For Day 28 of Carry on Countdown 23, Gently. @carryon-countdown

On Simon Snow and Baz Pitch and their respective sets of teeth finding their way into each other's bodies (cont). Part 1 here!

Rated E for... this being what it is (the smut).

⋆｡˚

Baz looks so bloody unhinged as he’s pulling off my wrist.

I bloody love it. He looks like he’s already fucked us both stupid and spent and he’s desperate for more. He’s got blood dripping down his chin and his lips are slick with spit and his pupils are blown so wide I think I should be scared, but I’m not. I’m so bloody not. All this, just from biting me… I think I’m just about undone myself.

I pull him down by the neck and sink my teeth hard against his jaw. “No.”

My wings wrap around him instinctively and my tail finds his thigh and I draw him in as close as I can before I’m kissing him harder again, tasting my blood on his lips. I drag my tongue hot over that trickle of blood and force it back in his mouth and he moans around my tongue.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard him moan like that before.

“No?” He asks as we split apart from that all consuming kiss.

My lips are tingling with it, overheated and sore. I keep risking the touch of his fangs against my lips, against my tongue. I’m like some kind of fiend for them and it’s only been a few minutes since I’ve first felt them sink into me properly. “No,” I say it again, firmer, squeezing my tail tight against the meat of his thigh, “I want you bloody in me when you bite me.”

I know I’m being demanding, but it only makes Baz laugh out low and deep. He slips out of his shirt without a word and my hands immediately slide down his perfect bloody chest. Does he always have to look so bloody gorgeous? I bite his shoulder hard for it, and then again over his chest.

“And what’s that for, love?” He’s still bloody laughing. Does it have to be so bloody attractive when he’s laughing like that? I bite him again, harder over his arm. “And that?”

“You. Just bloody you.” I bite him again just to drive the point home.

He grabs me my the jaw and shoves me back down against the mattress and kisses me hard. I try to bite his lips in protest, but he keeps me pressed hard to the couch to stop my teeth from bruising him more.

I scowl up at him. He smirks down at me. Does that have to be so bloody attractive too?

“So,” Basil hums, “You want me inside?”

“Bloody fucking obviously–” I’m so bloody impatient for it. He’s in too many clothes, I’m in too many clothes. I’m bloody fucking soaked already, obviously I want him in me. “Why am I still bloody dressed?”

“That,” Baz answers as he tugs my tail, “Is a bloody good question.”

He slips off the couch before I can stop him, out of reach before I can land another vengeful bite for that tug. And then I find myself slung over his shoulder and I can’t help the little ‘oh’ that escapes me when I land. Sometimes I forget just how insanely strong being a vampire makes him. His beautiful bare skin is so sodding smooth against my stomach and I want to bite him again for catching me off guard, for feeling so bloody perfect, but the angle’s shite for it.

He marches us into the bedroom and my trousers fall aside along the way, moments before Baz– somehow bloody elegantly– walks right out of his. He tosses me down onto the bed, so un-fucking-ceremoniously, and pulls me out of my shirt, and his hands find my chest without a moment’s delay. His fingers tug and twist at me until I’m squirming under him, grinding against the knee he’s so graciously providing for my aching cunt.

“You want me right bloody now?” His grin grows just a tick more, flashing fang down at me, and my fingers dig into his forearms, tuggin him down hard over me. He keeps himself out of the reach of my teeth. “You want me bad enough to beg for it? Or should I make you?”

I bite into my own lip as he asks, tearing that sore back open and scrunching my nose up at him. I hate that he’s right. I love that he’s right. I’m so bloody fucking conflicted. He sucks the blood from the sore all over again and I can’t stop myself from moaning for him. My fingers digging in hard where they hold him. I hate that he’s right, but not enough to stop myself from nodding.

“You’ll beg, Simon Snow?” He says it like a bloody contract. I hate that it gets me that much wetter.

“I’ll beg… I’ll beg if you want me to.” My lips brush hot over his as I say it and his tongue is already running over that split in my lip again, making me moan all over again, hips rutting harder against his knee.

“Tell me what you want, love…” His voice is so bloody beautiful, so bloody dark… I’m so fucking insane for him. Crowley help me, I am not immune to that voice. It sets me on fire, it’s so beautiful.

It takes me long moments to work up to it. His lips start wandering over my neck. He’s teasing his fangs over the vein there, and I want to feel them sink in. I’m such a fucking slut about it too, rutting and whining and moaning. My hands keep wandering, and so do his, and his every touch is making me shudder and want that much more.

“I want you…” I start and I can tell just by his look that Baz isn’t impressed with it. I grab his face so I can focus better, not distract myself with his muscles and perfect skin, not let him distract me with those teeth any further. “I want you in me, Baz, right now. The moment you bit me, really. I want to feel you so deep I can’t bloody breathe. I want you to bite me everywhere when you take me. I want you to feel you everywhere, Basil, I bloody fucking need you–”

“You need me?” Baz kisses over my palms as he repeats it and I’m already nodding up at him. “How badly?”

“Fuck–” I moan as I feel his cock press against where I’ve soaked through my pants, the thin fabric hardly enough to stop me from losing my fucking mind all over again, “–please, I need you so bloody bad, please—”

He doesn’t even bother to take them off, just tears them down the center, like they’re nothing, and it makes me moan all over again. He’s so bloody filthy. I might cum just from him slipping in.

And then he’s in me.

And I absolutely do.

He’s kissing me through it and I can’t think properly. I can so rarely bloody think with him like this. He pulls my legs around his waist and my wings flit up to wrap around him and pull him in closer, hands wrapping around him and fingers digging in. I’m so bloody rough with him, I know I’m leaving him bruised, but he’s kissing me so bloody tender and I’m losing my mind. I want him to move, I want to feel him lose his mind as much as I’m losing mine.

I can’t say it though.

Every time I try to speak he’s kissing me again, stealing my words, and in the same moment he’s slipped a hand between us and his hand is rubbing over my clit and I’m melting all over again, clenching around him like a vice, nearly cumming all over again for him.

“Baz,” I finally manage, “Baz, please, bloody move…” It’s practically a sob. I’m pretty sure I’m dying with him refusing to move like this.

He kisses me soft just one more time and then he moves.

My vision turns white.

My hands can’t find a proper place to dig in. His back, his waist, his shoulders, his hair… They’re everywhere, it’s not enough. He stops my hands with his, pinning them above my head while his teeth start to wander all over again, and then they’re all I can think about. “Bite me, bloody fucking bite me, Basil, fuck–”

He has the nerve to laugh again, “Needy bloody thing…” he murmurs against my neck, but then his fangs sink in over that vein, impossibly gentle despite the sting of it, and his pace falters for half a moment.

He moans right along with me while he’s drinking me and his hips slow down, hitting everywhere just right and my hips move back on instinct. I can feel him everywhere in me. Not just fucking me, but in my bloody veins, in my fucking lungs, in the beat of my pulse. I think my heart’s in my bloody throat and it feels so fucking good.

I’m breathless when he pulls off again. He looks as debauched as I feel, licking his lips clean and eyes wild, his bangs haphazard in his eyes.

“You’re so bloody beautiful,” He says, making me whine again.

How can he bloody say that when he looks like that? “Basilton Grimm-Pitch, you will bite me again and move—”

He cuts me off with another bite, lower, and again he moans out with me. My hands are clenching at nothing, twisting in his grip, and he gets the message without my needing to say anything. Not that I could anyway, but he gets it. He lets my hands go to find their home in his hair and he presses in deeper, closer, and I feel him impossibly more.

I feel so bloody perfect wrapped around him like this, like I bloody belong here. It’s near a religious experience. I might be losing my mind, or maybe I’m finding it. I don’t know. I can’t tell anymore.

All I know is I want more, and Baz is all too willing to give it. He bites into me again and again and again and our bodies are moving together in perfect rhythm and I think I might’ve found myself in him, I’m not sure what I’m thinking anymore, except everything is perfect.

His hips pick up when mine falter all over again, spilling unexpectedly after another bite, and then again after another. I think my tits are going to be sore for days with how much he’s bitten them, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. He keeps going until I’m begging him to finish, “Please, with me, please please, fuck’s sake, Basil, please—”

And he does, he gasps against my neck, arched obscene for him to drag his fangs over, tempting him to bite again, and he does, again, so bloody gently, even as he topples over for my begging, collapsing on top of me. He stopped himself from drinking so many bites ago, I know, but he still laps his tongue over every wound, treats them tenderly, carefully, each bite a mark of his love, his obsession with me.

He’s so bloody obsessed with me, and even as he says it, I still can’t understand it. It’s alright though. I’m just as obsessed with him.

“Good?” He manages, and his voice is a low, breathless thing. It feels so bloody good to have taken him to that point.

I’m even further gone on him, only managing a nod in answer, tail brushing over his legs as we relax into each other.

“Good,” he says again, petting through my hair gently, a contrast to the way I’ve been tugging desperately at his. He’s so bloody perfect. I love him so much. I’m a sweat-streaked, bitten bloody mess, and he’s perfect. But he’s mine. He’s all mine. And I’m all his. I’m all his.

Fuck, I love him. I manage to say it, I think. If I don’t, he understands it all the same. He’s kissing me stupid all over again. I think I’m going to make him bite me every time after this, if I have any say in it.

And I do. I know I do.

#Carry On Countdown #COC 2023 #baz pitch #simon snow #snowbaz #carry on fanfiction #my writing #the streak continues! #bite #i don't know what to tag for this #oh yeah #i trans'd simon's masc #afab language #i love the word 'cunt' #this was longer than intended

[zhaozi]

before we get into what happened in the kindergarten mafia discord, i want to make sure that this post doesn't end with people critcising the ethics of taking and using screenshots of private conversations. if you are needling someone over the ethics of screenshots, please remember that the focus of this conversation is about racism and a two month long cover up from a mod plus a lot of questionable behaviours from the admin team.

this post might jump around a lot in the timeline but in order to be as concise as possible i am going to share the original screenshots of the timeline from the server admin themselves.

as you can see from this timeline, this is not an isolated event. this is a continuing pattern that has been going on a long time during which whenever will entered the server he was greeted by those who were lying to him about the progress that was being made. now to start my recollection of events. 7th October

someone used the phrase 'spirit animal' in an incorrect context and was graciously told by tay, a member of the server, that it was not oaky. isak came in with 'a joke' (jokes are funny and do not harm cultures, this is not a joke but for the statement i am using their terminology). isak was 'modded' by rachael who equivicated native culture to a religion which is further offending native cultures and practices. will, who is native, came in and made a short statement defending his culture. he was not rude, he was not offending other people, he was clearly stating that his culture is not a joke. after this statement will did not re-enter creative chat or the server to talk about anything. however, rachael swiftly came into his inbox and modded him about his behaviour stating that he was 'almost mini-modding' and that was against server rules. this was done without the knowledge of other mods.

you can see those screenshots in will's post and draw your own conclusions. you can also see the apology rachael sent.

Between the 7th and 26th of October

A lot of conversations happened between Hann and Corvus during this time that I was not privvy to as I was just a mod at the time. 26th October during the mod meeting we had, rachael made it clear that she had modded isak in an official capacity for his comments about native culture. the other party involved had also been modded in an official capacity and made the mistake out of ignorance - they then took the time to educate themselves. during the meeting, mods faye and morgan pushed for a statement about racist behaviour in the server. highlighting the important of educating ourselves to protect members of our community. it was also decided that a poc mod would be bought onto the team because 5 white people are not fully equiped to handle the topic of racism.

Between 26th October and 4th December

during this period, not much hapapened to my knowledge. we continued general modding of the server which included an uncomfortable topic of xenophobic actions and fetishisation within the server. the task of handling this conversation was given to the poc mod. immediately they were talked over by the server member and the server member went straight to the admin - invalidating the poc mod and further proving that there is an inherent problem regarding views of poc in the server.

4th of December

on the 4th of december, mod faye bought it to everyones attention in the mod chat that rachael had not done what she said she would regarding adding the conversation where she 'modded' isak for his comment. she was given 6 weeks to do this and hadn't done it.

the following conversation happened - please be aware the timestamps are different because these screenshots have been gathered from multiple sources.

6th December

a statement was released talking about how rachael had left the mod team. originally it contained the phrase 'stepped down from the mod team'. faye and i pushed for this to be changed because 'stepped down' makes it seem like she left for honest reasons. in reality she left before she could be fired. we always wanted to have an announcement about her no longer being a mod that included a brief explaination of why she was no longer a mod and a second anouncement about racism within the server.

san shared concerns that people of colour were not being listened to in the server and was immediately pushed back against with an admin asking why people are sharing information. i sent a private message of my concerns to hann and they asked for clarification so this is what i said

after this hann and corvus talked and decided to take some time to rest as it was a stressful experience for them. during that time communication from me was limited as i was in hospital - it is not necessary to know the reasons, just that i had to prioritise what i spent my limited time doing.

faye was amazing during this time and came up with a step by step plan for the mods to follow.

7th of December

after having enough of placations and pleasentries, will dropped his account of what happened into the server. he put it in four threads, all of which were relevent to the situation.

he did this without telling anyone.

this is rachael's immediate response to the statements.

immediately she is trying to get the statement deleted on a technicality. i was the only mod awake at that time because of timezone issues. it was not fun. i refused to delete the statements that will made because i was not going to be complicit in covering up what happened. i refused to silence the voice of a native man who's culture had been the butt of some 'joke'. concurrent to rachael leaving, the clarifications channel was on fire. people were immediately running to attack will for what he had done. calling on him to be banned and asking him to 'prove' what happened to him.

during this time the original person who made a joke admitted that he knew it was a racist joke but he did it anyway. he was still never modded for this behaviour and considering one of the rules is don't be racist, you'd think the mods would've banned him after this but no.

me and faye worked overtime in that thread. consistently fielding questions about 'what do poc want?', 'why isn't will here explaining himself?', and 'what is going to happen next.' i devoted the limited time i had in hospital to answering the questions in the clarifications channel. this meant i was less active in mod chat and i explained this situation to the admins/other mods at the time. me and faye gave action plan after action plan, we wrote and provided statements, we fed back on what people of colour were saying both in the server and in our dms. it was exhausting but we btoh did it because we wanted the server to be a safe space for everyone. so imagine our suprise when we were promptly fired for our actions. on. fayes. birthday.

faye was removed from mod chat after this but i remained a little longer. (image has some redacted personal information)

we were fired for listening to poc voices and trying to highlight the systemic issues within the server. i can't add anymore images but this issue was reignited a few days ago. in response to innocent questions, a mod started cruelly talking to a black member of the community, telling them how much they were disliked. they followed by banning her. they also refused to delete their work within the server. same with will. given how much hann preaches about content theft - it's ironic that they keep ideas that aren't theirs. i entered into the conversation again because i am in a position of privlege with my whiteness. i fielded questions about will and jynx and 'how accusing someone of racism is worse than being racist'. following this my friends and i were also banned from the server. the server was eventually put on read only but not until after the mods had a lovely joking session about banning us with the server members. hann said she apologised to the server members for their 'gallows humour' when joking about the banned people.

this is a little reminder that gallows humour is for those at the gallows. when you're in the audience, you're just laughing at a dying person.

hann never apologised to us but hann & alex did have more fun vagueposting about us on tumblr and making memes about purging members. all while there is still no response to the racism that happened in the server that they were complicit in.

following the closure of the server, hann created a new server with cult like rules which i'm sure you have seen floating around. i was not innocent in all this mess. at first i was complicit in wanted to keep a calm, steady ship. then i was educated by some truly wonderful people in the fandom that sweeping things under the rug just leaves more room for hostility to grow. from then i changed my views and started advocating for firmer stances on racism within the fandom space. that idea wasn't received well.

tldr; racism in fandom spaces spreads further than you think. the amount of bias that people unwillingly show is intense. i was fired as a mod for supporting poc.

#morgan talks #this was longer than intended #kindergarten mafia #this is my last say on the matter i think

[naneki-maid]

I really try not to pick sides when it comes to Kikyo and Kagome in regards to Inuyasha because I’ve always felt that depending on the time period, one or the other makes a good match for Inuyasha. Like in the past Kikyo was Inuyasha’s first love—and he was her last and only love. Inuyasha was young, reckless and bent on becoming a full demon. But before Kikyo dies, she helps to remedy that obsession and at the same time begins to help Inuyasha become a better demon.

In the future, Kagome helps Inuyasha understand humans better, this in return helps him to become more compassionate towards them. His willingness to help others is solely influenced by Kagome—going off on missions that are not specifically related to finding the jewel shards and Naraku are all choices that past-Inuyasha would have surely hesitated with. Thanks to the experiences that they’ve shared together, both Inuyasha and Kagome have grown significantly (physically and mentally) since season 1. Which is why it’s so annoying that a lot of the times whenever Kikyo appears, Kagome reverts into this annoyingly jealous child, which she technically is.

The tragedy of Kikyo’s death and her forced return sometimes makes it hard to hold her accountable for the decisions she makes. As a priestess, she’s helpful when she chooses to be, but it’s really annoying that every time the three of them meet up it turns into a novela, suddenly Kikyo and Kagome can’t stand to breath the same air.

Anyways, I’m nearing the end of season 6 and I’m not saying Kikyo should have stayed dead, because I know she still has a part to play in defeating Naraku, but just maybe Inuyasha and Kagome were all the better for it?

#🫠🫠 #this was longer than intended #loving this series is having to fight the urge to pick sides! #like kagome is the reancarnation of kikyo! she could have been helping Kagome become a stronger priestess this whole time… #why force 2 bad bitches against one another? it never made sense. #kikyo and Inuyasha loved each other before Kagome existed #why fight that? #makes me so sad. and annoyed. #inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #kikyo #anime #like Inuyasha grieved her AGAIN #then she shows up and disappeares and doesn’t even say what’s up? #she makes it difficult that’s all I’m saying. and then kagome’s childish ass annoys the hell out of me

[jumumo]

Basking in the warmth of Bmblby kiss

It hits me.

Was there ever an established reason why they haven't talked?? Or complimented each other like that??? The confessions they used for this bridge gap thing are actually kind of weak in grand scheme of all they went through in their relationship.

"I think you're brave" is not only basic but oddly distant? They're on a team where they basically eat, sleep, travel together on end. Blake is out here throwing out pining lines like this is the first time she ever spent bonding with Yang. Cute Cat ears and You never been intimidated by me? Why would she Yang? You?? Were never??? Intimidating as a person???? Like. These lines are cute by themselves but you would think this would be the time for the writers to do some heavy emotional lifting to speedrun tieing up their interconnected trauma and past development with each other.

Blake being more hesitant in being forth coming kind of makes sense for her character but after the whole Adam fight and constant friendship power theme, this arc theoretically happened a long time ago. I don't think there was ever any type of reason why Yang would be shy about her feelings about Blake? It would of helped to get a read on that if she talked to other characters about it. It doesn't seem like she's written to be oblivious about how she feels about things?

So?? What??? Was the point????

The thing is: Them having unresolved things and hidden feelings to say to each other makes incredible sense since it was neglected or avoided they write a scene of these two characters having a good serious talk about everything that happened. But it's literal fluff they talk about. Isn't their struggle what literally makes the ship? Not even a doubt being expressed? Wasn't it just last season Blake was nervous about Yang just because?

#Rwde #I like bmblby but what actually #Thoughts #This was longer than intended #Rwby

[arireynes]

Thinking about being in love with roommates, but never saying anything. Neither aren't modest, though, and will walk through the house in a towel or barely any clothes, not connecting the dots that I go off to my room every time I see them that way.

One day, I catch them fucking. It's clear it's been going on for a while, the way they're comfortable against each other, laughing as one fucks into the other. I shouldn't watch, but I would, staying silent, growing impossibly needy, before I have to go and get off, thoughts filled with the sight of them.

I wouldn't say anything, wouldn't do anything that would make it so I couldn't catch them in the act every night, couldn't fill my head with fantasies of being between them, but one day I'm not careful, too needy and hot and horny, and maybe I bump into the wall, or gasp a little too loudly, just loud enough that they hear.

I wouldn't expect them to say it's fine, it's okay, they don't mind me watching at all, why don't I come in and talk for a little bit? It would be so hard to focus with them naked, and they'd notice, and tease, asking if I could really get off from watching them. They can see the way my thighs clench, the way I stare at their bodies despite my better judgment. Isn't it a little pathetic, they'd say, that I'm so needy to be fucked I'd watch them?

I wouldn't be able to disagree, not when they're talking like that, pinning me in place with their heated gazes. I wouldn't be able to say no when they ask me to strip, telling me it's only fair since they're not wearing anything, why don't I join them?

If they asked to touch me, pressing close, taking advantage of my stuttering breaths, and needy eyes, I wouldn't be able to say no, not when they slide their hands over me, murmuring about how I'd be so good and well behaved for them, isn't that right? I'll listen and obey if they wanted me to?

They'd ask if I wanted this, if I'd thought about it before, and I'd tell them without much pushing, everything I'd imagined. They'd laugh a my neediness, and press me between them, ask if this is how I imagined it, push their hand between my legs, tell me they'd get me off, to fulfill my fantasy.

And if they keep going after that, giving me more memories to fantasize over, I certainly wouldn't say no.

#this was longer than intended #and they were roomates #I'd love this #nsft #18+ #please and thank you #poly #arireynes

[xarrixii]

to those of inquiry,

my introduction

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hello, fellow traveler of the hellscape that is this website (or app, if you happen to be on your phone using such)

my name is @xarrixii, and i am better known as "arri"

i have a separate blog from this one designed for reblogging other peoples' work. if that's something you're more interested in (my taste in writing), then i suggest you visit @the-arrikive

masterlists a long way under the divider

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i have come from a land not so far away (planet earth) to share the nonsensical nonsense of my brain (my writing).

i write both longer, novel-like stories and responses to writing prompts when i'm feeling it (feel free to send me one, if you'd like). my brain is random, though, so i can't guarantee i'll get something out right away.

i am irregular. do not expect something like weekly uploads. you get a story when i remember to post one and have one available. i shall not rush the accidentally filled plotholes genius i breed.

sometimes i make edits. i've made a lot of edits recently, like layout/ease of access and also wording on some of the earlier chapters. (already read chapter one of cinder? i changed the beginning because i hated it and i personally would put down the book immediately if i'd found it in the library)

i still hate the first sentence but honestly, the noggin can't think of anything better so we'll cry about it later

also, grammarly hates me because i don't like its grammar rules and i don't capitalize my "i"s when i'm casually speaking. i hate grammarly because some of its suggestions are stupid. i just don't want to turn it back on every time i eventually end up needing it.

less important: i am cisgender. i identify with she/her, but i could really care less (not quite sure that counts as any). i am pansexual. (frying pans don't have enough personality, don't ask about them)

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what i like reading:

i love, love love love love love love love it when a book focuses on its characters. there's nothing wrong with taking in the fantasy world they built for the people to live in, i'm all for that as well. it's just a trend i see that the more a book focuses on following its plot, the less it focuses on the people riding out that plot.

i'm a firm believer in characters "building a plot" based around their actions, even if that means an author built a plot and then designed the perfect character for enacting it.

also, i grew up a gacha kid (gacha studio/life/club). that means i'm familiar with cliches and love it when people throw them on their heel. it's also (unfortunately) made me enjoy love stories less (which makes things difficult since books that focus on characters almost always have some love plot that works out).

i'll read a hero x villain, sure. but sometimes i might think up the ending where they don't love each other (platonic and rival)

ask me any time about what i enjoy reading if i've confused you (it happens a lot).

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what i like writing:

this one's a lot simpler, i like writing what i like reading. because if i wouldn't read it later, why would anyone else?

due to me being cringe once upon a time, i spent several years writing out roleplays (yes, i was the edgy roblox kid too) with some friends, so anything super long i write for a very long time from now will be my personal adaptation of something that's already existed before

writing prompts are the truest test of my creative abilities, though. making up new characters, a new environment, and a new plot based on the whims of a few sentences from time to time is what keeps my rewrites from being copy-pastes.

that also just keeps it fun for the friends who wrote it with me once and will read it from my fingers typing it again

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also to note, i'm not afraid of writing about blood, gore, violence, and the like, and i'm also insensitive to what all needs to be tagged, so any help with that goes a long way

most of my writing prompts will be written with non-binary characters

if you find me fucking up pronouns please notify me where i diddled it up thank you!!

so about being a gacha kid

i suck at drawing. the physical descriptions of my characters are laid out in gacha apps, and yes i am mildly embarrassed about it. but putting their designs down somewhere means i have something reliable to refer to while writing.

thou shalt not judge me for it.

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hobbies

writing. i guess a bit obviously. i also still enjoy playing video games and listening to music. i like watching horror games, but can't bring myself to play them. i also make a lot of jokes about violence. i mean a lot. but i know when to take something seriously.

favorite roblox games including: entry point, scp: site roleplay, funky friday, robeats, 3008

i also play genshin impact occasionally, and no i'm not elaborating.

if you couldn't tell by now, i talk too much. moving on:

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masterlists

hey, me! i know you're reading this, because i know you're the most likely suspect for looking for these links all the time.

"Cinder" Masterlist writing prompts

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looking for more? ask me! send me prompts! FILL MY INBOX!!!

#writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writeblr #introduction #intro post #introductory post #writers #original characters #original stories #original fiction #novel writing #author #this was longer than intended #i'm gonna miss my cinder masterlist being pinned #i should probably think up a tag for that #ill probably do that later #why am i talking to myself in the tag list

[falselyemmit]

So two months ago ish (like, late may?) I replayed fossil fighters champions. And you want to know what I realized?

What if we weren't the protagonist? What if we didn't win the cup? What if princess pooch was actually the winner? Then what??? Would zz just possess the dog?? Would he possess Joanie instead because how do dog skulls work? But I'm assuming that the person would need to be good at fossil battles considering he does a whole tournament to decide?

They'd have to acknowledge the dog won. When we fight princess pooch, they even make corrections on how we are not fighting Joanie. Everyone now knows. In everyone else's eyes, the new owner of the park would be a dog. Who's also a princess.

Imagine being the king and queen and finding out your daughter won the tournament she wanted to take part in. Now she owns the park. All of the staff have a new owner who happens to be a dog. Would they need to learn how to speak her language? Or would Joanie help?

...In everyone else's point of view though. I don't think zz would really stick with this idea.

Also would zz actually know how to speak princess pooch's language? Cause if he doesn't I feel like Joanie would find out something is up. Imagine if you worked there and heard the dog (who's also the owner, and can probably fire you) start talking regular English.

I don't really know why I'm thinking too hard on this, and I don't know if this is really coherent to understand.

(Also side note I've been looking around this site and apparently people have introduction posts?? That they pin? Am I supposed to do that???)

#fossil fighters #fossil fighters champions #this was longer than intended #but also shorter #emmit rambles about stuff #tried putting everything my brain though of #not sure if i did though

[the-whispers-of-death]

"Dance with me."

Grim Reaper turned to the person speaking, a man he knew so well.

Heartthrob.

Captain Fariz "Heartthrob" Shah was an old acquaintance of Grim Reaper's, the closest thing he had to a friend. Standing at 6'6" tall, he was shorter Grim Reaper, but he was so much warmer. His brown eyes sparkled and his warm brown skin dimpled when he smiled, brightening any room he walked in. Since they were on deployment, his usual beard was shaved clean, giving the thirty-five year old a sense of youth as his rounded jaw was shown off.

He looked... handsome. If Grim Reaper gave it much thought about Heartthrob's appearance.

"What did you say?" Grim Reaper asked, clearly thinking he had misheard. His voice was deep and monotone as always, an air of coldness surrounding him.

No one ever asked to dance, mostly because they were scared of him. And those who weren't scared of him told him he was just a mindless soldier, a weapon. They weren't wrong, Grim Reaper was nothing more than a weapon.

Okay well, he was also Bharat Mishra's son, a man whom he looked so much alike that he took his father's name as his own. He became his father, and the Marine Corps loved it.

Heartthrob's smile hadn't dimmed and he moved closer to Grim Reaper, holding out a calloused hand. "Dance with me, this is my favorite song. I want to dance with you to it," he repeated, as if that made any sense to Grim Reaper.

But Grim Reaper just thought it was one of the odd things about Heartthrob. Because surely the man must be odd to take one look at a mindless soldier like Grim Reaper and decide to befriend him.

Grim Reaper slipped his hand in Heartthrob's, feeling the warmth of the other man's encase his gloved hand. "I don't know how to dance," he murmured as he let Heartthrob lead him onto the bar's dance floor.

"No need for you to, not really." Heartthrob led him to the middle of the dance floor and let go of Grim Reaper's hand, placing his own around Grim Reaper's waist. "Just wrap your arms around my neck and sway. It'll be fun, I promise."

Grim Reaper bit back his initial instinct to say that he never had fun, but he instead just said nothing. He wrapped his burly arms around Heartthrob's neck, something that would make the others wary.

He had snapped so many enemy soldiers' necks so many times over the years and his efficiency for doing so made the others scram whenever he was in arms distance from them.

But not Heartthrob. Heartthrob stayed so close to Grim Reaper, gave him affectionate pats on the shoulders and chest, touched his waist like he was doing now. He wasn't afraid of being hurt, being burned by the intense paranoid that clouded Grim Reaper's ability to make friends.

He always thought people were going to hurt him. That someone was going to poison his food. Drug his drink.

But Heartthrob always took the first bite of Grim Reaper's food and waited minutes before telling him that it was safe to eat. Always taking the first sip so Grim Reaper knew he could drink it safely.

So kind, so... nurturing.

Grim Reaper always wondered what was in it for Heartthrob. Was it so he could boast about taking down Grim Reaper's walls? Was it so he could hurt Grim Reaper when his walls were fully down?

It made him want to pull back from the man.

Grim Reaper went to do just that, but he looked into Heartthrob's eyes and his paranoia melted away. Instead of pulling away, he found himself leaning in. Since they were so close, he could smell Heartthrob's cologne that he had worn to supposedly woo people.

His callsign was Heartthrob, not because he could charm people, but because he couldn't. He was notoriously bad at getting dates, so other Marines started teasing him and calling him a heartthrob. True to his easygoing nature, he never got angry at the teasing, he actually welcomed it. He joined in on making fun of himself on more than one occasion.

"What are you thinking about?" Heartthrob asked as they swayed together. His hands had moved up slightly, on the small of Grim Reaper's back.

He was cradling him. Like Grim Reaper was something—someone—so precious to him.

Grim Reaper replied immediately, "I'm thinking about you."

And he immediately bit his tongue to stop himself from saying more.

He was always too blunt, too honest. He didn't know how to lie, unless it was to save someone's life. Whenever he had to lie to get someone out of a bad situation, it was like a switch flipped in his brain and he could lie. Other times, he was just too honest, saying such vulnerable things.

Which was why he had to be quiet more often. People often didn't like what he said anyways.

Heartthrob seemed amused though, a laugh bubbling up from his chest and escaping from his lips. His brown eyes seemed to sparkle more as a smile Grim Reaper wasn't sure ever left his face came back. "What about me are you thinking about?"

Instead of replying, Grim Reaper just gave him a blank look, which seemed to amuse Heartthrob even more. So much so that he took advantage of Grim Reaper's sheepishness and grabbed one of his gloved hands, twirling Grim Reaper.

It was like the breath left Grim Reaper, a sense of fleeting freedom washed over as he twirled. What was this feeling blooming in his chest, the twitching in his lips?

"You're glowing," Heartthrob murmured, his voice soft like he was in awe as he brought Grim Reaper back into his hold, pulling the other man against his chest. "You like the twirl, hm? I'll keep that in mind."

Grim Reaper's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't what you're talking about."

And he really didn't. He didn't know what emotion he was feeling, why he was even feeling anything.

Shouldn't he be emotionless? His father trained him to be an emotionless soldier, to be molded into whatever the Marine Corps wanted him to be. So what was this foreign emotion that he was feeling?

Heartthrob chuckled. "You looked like you were about to smile," he explained softly, unbothered at having to explain emotions to Grim Reaper. "Your eyes were bright, you looked happy. It's like the world gets so much brighter and you feel like nothing can dim the warmth you feel. Does that sound similar to what you felt?"

"I... I don't know," Grim Reaper admitted, wincing at his own words. He waited with abated breath, waiting for the inevitable scoff and disbelief that he didn't understand what happiness was or what emotion he was feeling.

"That's okay," Heartthrob instead responded with, one of his hands lifting upwards and gently guiding Grim Reaper's head towards his shoulder. "We'll take it one day at a time, help you learn your emotions, together."

Grim Reaper melted in Heartthrob's arms. "You promise?" he asked.

Heartthrob smiled down at Grim Reaper. "I promise, and perhaps we can also see about you giving yourself your own name." His hand was still on the back of Grim Reaper's hair, his fingers gently carding through the black strands.

"I like the name Vikram."

"Vikram, what a beautiful name. I promise, Vikram, I'll be by your side for as long as you'll have me."

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

#task force 141 oc #call of duty oc #cod oc #task force 141 oc: stone #call of duty oc: stone #cod oc: stone #grim reaper!stone #stone variants #The Multiverse of Stone #call of duty oc: heartthrob #cod oc: heartthrob #Heartthrob x Grim Reaper!Stone #Grim Reaper!Stone x Heartthrob #oc x oc #male oc x male oc #this was longer than intended #nobody asked for them but the first line popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote this #:)

[intzu]

gus2 ko po ng filo!hs!robaire courting headcanons brhffjfjdjdjdjdjd

MANLILIGAWㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〄 filo!Robaire courting hcs

⛥ no gender specified, fluff

I'd hc Robaire to be an old fashioned guy, and that means courting you the exact way his father did with his mother.

Takes notes about things you like, mannerisms, etc. To get an idea of what to give, what to do, and so

Robaire starts of small. Acts of service, helping you w small tasks assigned, and carrying your stuff

To avoid putting pressure on you, Robaire asks you if he can start courting you over text.

Hal. { (name), if okay lang sayo, pwede ba kitang ligawan? Di mo kailangan pumayag. Di kita minamadali, I can wait for when you're ready. If not, then we can both carry on being friends :) }

He puts a shit ton of thought in that message, making sure there aren't any typos, and that it doesn't seem too guilt tripping. despite the fact he's literally shaking as he types

When you agree

He'll say his thanks, literally rolling on the bed and punching the air as he silently screams after. to which his older brother walks into and will never let go

Anyways,

Robaire goes with letters, extremely cheesy and romantic letters with rlly deep and traditional words

He quickly sneaks these into your bag when he has the chance to. He sees your bag open? He'll slip it in there w/o you seeing. You're out of the room? He'll pass it to Aaron T who puts it on your desk for your to read when you get back.

He does give them to you in person sometimes. Only sometimes.

Which is when he sees a guy clearly making you uncomfy or insluting you since he's known to get along well with the teachers

And so moves along to more direct acts, asking you out every now and then, giving you some half of his lunch, and so on.

Shit ain't easy though, he takes a whole 2 minutes of encouragement from his friends for him to walk up to you and initiate even just a small convo

Hal. "Bilis Ro! Nandyan na siya oh! Baka mamaya matapos na ang recess tapos di mo na naaya." "wait lang tangina may kausap pa siya.." "Kanina pa yang kausap niya. Gusto mo maunahan ka niyan?"

And my favorite, serenading. Which involves a shit ton of practicing with his friends on harmonizing, timing, etc.

It may had took a while but it was definitely worth it for you.

Really takes his time into planning everything, and timing, knowing how your parents barely know about the whole courting situation.

Robaire was really nervous at first, he didn't know if you had dogs that could ruin the whole atmosphere and probably maul him to death

But this didn't stop him. He gathered up this courage, threw a pebble through your window and signaled Jesse to start playing his guitar.

#Ꮺ — lion's mane ｡･ﾟ #robaire 4town #robaire x male reader #robaire turning red #4town robaire #robaire x reader #turning red 4town #4town x reader #4town #4town turning red #4town x male reader #My fingers hurt #This was longer than intended #robaire hidalgo

[solomons-poison]

So.... did anyone else think that Mammon's 2022 birthday event was extremely lackluster?

Like I know it's a running gag about Mammon being too single-minded or no-thoughts-head-empty, causing his brothers to rag on him constantly. And I mean, I don't mind tropes like that being used, appropriately, especially when it's a dumb otome game, and it makes it easier to separate characters into specific tropes (in this case, behaviors matching their cardinal sin) for the purposes of a dating sim and specific character types. But in the past, the devs have usually been good about acknowledging both Mammon's dorkiness as well as his more serious and smart sides that he keeps hidden from others.

Based on chat histories, both with Mammon as well as the chat between only Mammon and Lucifer, as well as some of his Devilgrams, we know Mammon is actually smart. He has a mind for math (yes attributed to his greed, but he's still smart regardless) and when it's needed, he's very capable, to the point that Lucifer delegates a specific task that he knows he can trust Mammon with. Lucifer would delegate tasks to Mammon even in the Celestial Realm, so they have a history of working together and working cohesively. Mammon has helped an abandoned/abuse child on his own to the point the child sought him out for help and wanted him to stay. Luke even looks up to him like a long-lost brother (and in true tsundere fashion, denies doing so).

So we know Mammon is smart and capable, when he puts his mind to it. After the fall, of course, the brothers all lost a lot of confidence and it sort of turned into self-fulfilling prophecies, where they end up doing what they think everyone expects of them and giving in to their sin. And it's not like Mammon is the only one that does dumb things. All of them are guilty of it, including and especially regarding Lucifer, they all do dumb things and make poor decisions or have moments of blonde-ness.

I made the mistake of not brushing up on last year's birthday event for him, I only did the battles during the revival. But I don't quite remember it being as much of a problem last year (but correct me if I'm wrong). This year, it was just constant "Mammon is so dumb, of course he's going to mess up", and then he would get something right but just barely at the last minute, making it seem more like dumb luck than anything else. So in the end, there wasn't really a resolution to it all.

Idk his 2022 birthday event just didn't sit well with me, I feel it was a missed opportunity for sure.

#this was longer than intended #i was also robbed of more romance w him how dare they #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date

[ladybeug]

he was stupid after all...

thats romance.

merry christmas!!!! I was thinking recently I don't just draw for fun very much anymore, so I put some time aside as a christmas gift for me.

#this is so much longer than I intended it to be #i let this one run away a bit #but that was the point i guess #my art #marichat #miraculous ladybug

[ikarakie]

after eddie introduces a demogorgon to one of his hellfire campaigns, the kids get a little squirmy. they're nervously looking at each other and aren't engaging as excitedly as they usually do. when he calls time, he watches dustin rummage through his backpack and produce a walkie talkie.

he watches, a bit dumbfounded, as the kid demands a 'check-in'. all at once, multiple different voices come over the channel. stating a name and then saying 'safe.' ("nancy, safe." "robin, safe." "max, safe.")

"steve?" dustin demands. there's only static. "steve!" a little more frantic this time.

"he left to pick you up." a female voice replies, "he's probably fine. you'll see him soon."

none of the kids look particularly pleased, and pack up hastily. eddie and the other hellfire members all share confused glances. he, more morbidly curious than anything else, follows the little sheep as they hurry out of the school.

dustin is fucking restless as they all stand in the empty parking lot. he won't stay still and none of them are answering any of eddie's questions. and he only gets more confused when a brown beemer pulls in, windows down and playing depeche mode through the speakers. dustin goes to sprint towards it, and he has to hold him by the collar to stop him getting run over.

the beemer pulls up and steve harrington, in all his glory, steps out, frowning. dustin wrenches out of eddie's grip and all but bodies the guy, wrapping arms tightly around his midsection. steve, still looking puzzled, hugs back. lucas and mike trail after dustin.

"we called a check-in." dustin says, a bit muffled from where his face is smushed into steve's shirt. steve goes sort of pale, and- and presses a goddamn kiss to the top of henderson's head before tightening the hug.

"shit, i'm sorry." and eddie believes him. he sounds so guilty. "i meant to replace the batteries before i left. sorry, i'm okay." dustin pulls back and scrubs at his eyes. lucas takes his place, though the hug he gives is more like one of those bro-hugs jocks seem to love. steve smiles regardless. he just ruffles mike's hair, who pouts in response but looks relieved nonetheless.

"asshole." he mutters. "rule four, walkies on at all times." steve nods as the kid half-heartedly waves goodbye to eddie and hops in the backseat of the beemer. lucas follows. dustin seems reluctant to walk around the car, to take his eyes off steve for even a second.

"you wanna stay over tonight?" steve asks, warm and gentle. he folds his arms and in that moment eddie thinks they look sort of like brothers. "robin and me were gonna watch some films. we can call your mom from mine."

the kid nods, looking a bit happier. steve slaps him on the back and motions him to get in the car. dustin swivels to hug and say goodbye to eddie (who sort of forgot he was physically present in this moment) before doing as he was told.

steve turns to eddie. which- whew! hi pretty eyes.

"sorry." he smiles and eddie can't for the life of him figure out what he's apologising for. "they, uh- yeah. them." he gestures vaguely at the car and eddie just chuckles.

"hey, man, no worries." he says, a little breathless that he's having a conversation with the steve harrington. "they okay? never seen henderson look so rattled." steve nods, then seems to think better of it and just shrugs. cocks his hip to the side (stop fucking staring at his hips, munson, lord!)

"they will be." he glances back at the beemer, which is now full of childish bickering. pauses to think and then asks, "you using demogorgons in your campaign right now?"

eddie blinks at him. "yes? yeah. what the fuck- how do you know what that is? what-" steve just laughs.

"long story." there's a haunted look in his eyes before he continues, "just, uh- that's probably what upset them. demogorgons and us- them, i mean-" he waves his hand. "bad memories. hard to explain, but... if you could..." he doesn't need to ask, seems like he doesn't know how or even if he's allowed.

"got it, ill tweak the campaign." harrington smiles at him, something small and genuine, and murmurs a thanks. offers him a fucking lift, which eddie declines, motioning to his van. harrington just nods, tells him to get home safe and then clambers back into the car, yells at the kids to put seatbelts on with all the exasperation of a single dad, and pulls away.

eddie watches them go, having seen a side of harrington he'd thought dustin had been lying about. steve harrington, the caring babysitter, everyone's older brother, a changed man.

he starts escorting the kids to the parking lot more often.

#steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #prompt #steddie fic #steddie prompt #imagine #steve and eddie #steve and dustin #dustin henderson #hellfire club #stranger things prompt #steve x eddie #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #babysitter steve #good babysitter steve #this ended up longer than i intended #i get carried away

[hiddenmoonbeam]

Finally kissing your best friend, hoping he loves you too.

#wolfstar #r/s #working on a longer post that’s taking forever so I took a break with this #which I also spent much longer on than intended #buuut now it’s here! #my art #hmb #art

[starrystevie]

it was all supposed to be a dumb joke.

the boys had been sitting around after rehearsal one night passing a bowl and more than a few beers, laughing about how unsuccessful the newest music based social media app would be. mere seconds of songs looping over and over with other songs mixed in would never work, especially for corroded coffin where the story, the buildup of their songs was part of the reason to listen.

it all started with jeff, grinning slowly ear to ear. "what if were to get in there and take some celebrity's name for a user name? like paris hilton or something."

then it moved to gareth, who paused with a scrunched up face. "dude, paris hilton? what the fuck kind of reference is that..."

then it was over to greg, choking on a smoke-laced laugh. "yeah, it'd be funnier if it was eddie's pop prince loverboy instead."

that got everyone's attention. eddie had protested to ears that didn't want to hear it as they cackled in their studio that they rented by the hour, bent over in their rolling chairs, leaning against the side of the mixing board for support.

"loverboy?! you know i can't stand steve harrington and his bullshit lyrics, what the fuck kind of suggestion is that..."

but come the next day, when the weed had left his system and his veins were alcohol-free, eddie stared at the mixr app home screen and the blinking red circle over his inbox with disdain after successfully acquiring a user name he never would have picked for himself.

'steveharrington', eddie's account says, along with an icon of himself and his tongue out.

if it hadn't been for being less than sober when the app dropped. if it hadn't been for his best friends egging him on with taunts and jeers and kissy noises and less than sincere dreamy calls of 'oh steve' in the background. if it hadn't been for the way that eddie secretly did think about a certain head of floppy hair and soft brown eyes and shoulders littered with constellations.

if it hadn't been for all of that he wouldn't have had the chance to have his celebrity crush, the steve harrington, in his inbox at 8am on a random tuesday morning.

"good morning!" the message says simply enough. eddie stares at the words, trying to process what they mean, looking at the verified username of 'steveharrington1' next to an icon of his most recent album along with it. his inbox is flooded with people all asking him random things, thinking he's the real steve harrington, but this one verified account has him shaking.

for all that eddie is, all big hair and black jeans and skull rings and leather, he's still a man. a man who can look at a pop star, annoying as their music may be, and see charm. he can see attractiveness. he can see that smile that steve harrington has perfected behind his eyelids and he can see them strolling off into the sunset together hand in hand and he can see steve all flushed and breathing heavily underneath him on a mountain of plush pillows and he can see-

the message pings again with a new addition. "i know this seems weird and my team advised against it but i'd really like your user name of... well, my name."

eddie blinks slowly. he pictures steve maybe laying in bed, maybe sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee, with his phone in his hand as he types out a message to him. to think that steve has any idea about him existing on any sort of level is doing his head in. his heartbeat races a little faster as he types back with shaky hands and a pit in his stomach.

"is this real?" is all he can type out, leaning against the kitchen counter as he waits for his coffee to brew.

three dots pull up on the app screen before disappearing and eddie pulls his lip in between his teeth to focus his energy elsewhere. he tears his eyes away from his phone and looks out the window to watch the people out for their morning walks. he's just about to the point where he thinks about maybe taking up walking if nothing else to get all the pent up energy out of him when the app dings again. as he looks back, his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

it's a photo of steve that can't have been released before. he's sitting outside in bright sunshine with sunglasses on, tousled hair and grin on his face. he's holding his hand up in a thumbs up and eddie can see the remnants of cream cheese on the side of his index finger.

he sucks in a stuttering breath through his teeth, trying to force his lungs to breath again. the dots pop up on screen once more and the message that comes through is instantaneous.

"real enough for you?" it reads. and then an additional message is tacked on. "need me to hold up a newspaper with the date on it?"

there's a winky face that follows and it feels fake even though it's very real. this whole morning feels wrong, unreal. he's just eddie munson, some singer in some halfway popular band in some kind of shitty neighborhood in los angeles that just happens to have not just some pop star in his dms. this doesn't happen to him.

"why did your team tell you not to message me? does my reputation precede me?"

eddie pulls his hand up to his mouth to bite at the side of his fingernail, watching the screen with rapt attention and waiting for the typing dots to disappear.

"according to this account your name is steve harrington and yes, i'd say his reputation does precede him."

eddie barks out a laugh, not exactly expecting that.

he didn't know what he was expecting out of any of this. he thought that it might help get the corroded coffin name out more if he got tangled up somehow with the steve harrington name. spark a little bit of drama to boost their visibility. but now here he is, talking to the man himself, cracking jokes and trying not to hyperventilate.

"how were you able to get this name so fast anyway? my team was on it right when the app dropped last night."

"i had the power of bandmates and weed on my side," he types back, side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

"oh so you're a musician? maybe i should be looking into your reputation then, mystery person."

eddie pauses and thinks about every option. he is semi-known in the metal scene, his outlandish stunts on stage and political speeches at shows that garner them becoming an almost brand for him. if he tells steve who he is, would he know? care? run away from the scary guy who may or may not use stage blood in every music video?

but the thing is, he's not a scary guy and he never has been. he might be a little intimidating and he guesses that's the armor he puts on everyday after being bullied in school but it's not an accurate showing of who he is. eddie is sweet, funny, kind of smart in that has random fun facts about dungeons and dragons kind of way.

and he wants the steve harrington to know that guy.

eddie flips over at his middle so his head is nearly touching the floor and ruffles his hair, giving it volume and calming down the frizz that comes from sleep. he shakes it out of his face once he's upright and grabs his garfield coffee mug if only to have something to do with his hands. grabbing his phone off the counter, he opens the camera option in their message thread and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, mug next to his face with a matching cat-like smirk. he nervously presses send before he can even think about all the flaws with it.

"eddie munson at your service," is what he types out with a saluting emoji and a muttered prayer to whoever would listen to him that things don't end horribly.

it's not like he's expecting to sweep steve off his feet. he knows that steve has picture perfect partners, he sees enough internet news to know that gruff and dark isn't the kind of guy he normally goes for. but he looks back at the photo he sent and hopes that steve sees the kindness in his eyes, the scruff on his jawline that makes it look just the smallest bit chiseled, the whimsy and life that he embodies that comes from a tacky coffee cup.

there isn't an automatic answer and it makes whatever hope eddie has floating around his system falter. ''at this point you've probably searched me and i can reassure you, i'm not actually a vampire like google seems to think i am."

"holy shit."

it's short, two words followed by typing dots that disappear, reappear, disappear once more before reappearing for the last time.

"would you believe me if i told you that i am huge fan??"

choking on coffee hurts, eddie finds out. he coughs as the hot liquid goes down the wrong pipe and concentrates on the messages once he gets his bearings back. steve, the steve harrington, a fan of his? it's a prank, it has to be, there is no way that steve harrington-

"one of my exes took me to your show at the bowl and it quite possibly changed my life. you gave that speech about the pipeline before the encore and i went home and bought every single one of your albums that same night."

he's dead. the papers will read 'eddie munson found dead in his home in a ratty metallica shirt holding onto a garfield coffee mug and cellphone open to a chat where steve harrington tells him he's a fan of his work'. it's the only way that this is possibly happening. he's died and gone to whatever fucked up version of heaven has him still living in his shitty la apartment.

"are you fucking kidding me?" is what he types back, slamming his coffee mug onto the counter to have access to both hands. "you've heard my stuff?"

and then it happens, like out of a shitty teenage rom-com, his phone is lighting up with an in-app call from steve harrington. the steve harrington. careful not to drop his phone in his hurried movements, he presses accept faster than he thinks his fingers have every worked.

"hello?" he questions into the phone and there's no hello back, just steve apparently freaking out as much as he is.

"i hope this is okay," he says and god, does his voice sound wonderful over the phone like this. "but it's faster and i have too many things to say that typing it all out would be stupid."

eddie grins and his feet tap against the ground like an excited kid. "it's fine, i uhm... i get it. god, this is weird."

steve hums in agreement before laughing. and oh, that laugh. it has eddie floating up to cloud nine, heart thumping painfully in his chest, butterflies beating their wings wildly in his stomach.

"yeah, it's definitely not how i expected this morning to go. talking to eddie munson, wow."

"sure," eddie snorts, "you talk to celebrities all the time, i'm sure this is small fish for you."

he hears steve laugh again, soft and gentle, like it's meant just for eddie. "i might talk to celebrities all the times but not ones that i have posters on my wall of like a pre-teen. i'm properly geeking out right now."

eddie short circuits. that's the only way to explain the way his body shuts down as he slumps into an armchair in the living room.

"you, steve harrington, have posters of me on your bedroom wall?" eddie's mouth feels dry as he talks and regrets making coffee at all because he's wide awake now and feels jittery.

"well okay, to be fair, it's of the whole band and it's in my studio but you are shirtless so i contemplated putting it in my bedroom." something shifts on the other end of the line and it sounds like steve sitting down. there's birds chirping in the background and eddie closes his eyes to picture himself sitting with steve on a patio instead of in his dingy apartment.

"you're gonna give me big head, pretty boy." the pet name slips out before he can stop it and the pitch of his voice lowering is out of his control. eddie can't be held responsible for his actions at 8am especially when he's flirting over the phone with his celebrity crush.

"pretty boy, hmm?" steve murmurs back. "so does that mean you have posters of me too?"

the timbre of his voice shoots from eddie's ears all the way down to his toes, lighting his veins on fire as it travels down his body. the hopeful part of his brain supplies an image of steve smirking, relaxing in a pool chair outside of what must be a mansion, phone in one hand and cup of coffee in the other. it could be domestic, if eddie thinks about it hard enough. if he wants it enough.

and god, does he want that. domestic bliss with steve harrington.

"well i wouldn't exactly call picturing you in my dreams every night posters, but it's close enough i guess."

it's gutsy, it's brash, it's too forward for a tuesday morning but steve started it. he hears a shaky exhale on the other end of the line and lets out a chuckle. it feels like they're playing chess and there's no clear cut winner quite yet but if the match ends in a tie, eddie can't exactly say he'd be upset about it.

"i tell you what," steve says in an almost airy voice. "in exchange for giving me my user name, i'll give you my number and you can use it to see me in something other than your dreams tonight."

"...are you bribing me, harrington?"

"is it working?"

eddie takes in a deep breath and thinks about what possible plans he could have with the username 'steveharrington' that would amount to something better than taking the man himself out on a date with his phone number saved as a contact in his phone. he'd put a heart next to it and everything.

"of course it is."

the call drops away and it's quick enough for eddie to think everything that happened in the last 30 minutes could have been a fever dream but then there's three dots on the message thread and his hopeful heart starts to kick back into gear.

"213-555-5469. let me know when you've given up that username and i'll let you know when to pick me up. it's a win-win all around. turns out we each get to go a date with our celebrity crushes, how lucky is that?"

it's signed with a kissing face emoji and eddie's glad that he's sitting down when the last picture steve sends comes through. he's grinning in a way eddie's never seen before, blush high on his cheeks, sweaty shoulders and collarbones and pecs glinting in the early morning sun, and eddie thinks it's probably too early to be in love with someone but he's well on his way.

he texts the number he's sent without hesitation and without shaking hands this time. he signs the message with a black heart like it's a signature of it's own.

"lucky indeed."

#wow this got SO much longer than intended why does this always happen why can i not just shut up #anyway i've been trying to figure out how to write this for a week so enjoy #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #steddie headcanon #popstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #modern au