#Compost Records

[trevlad-sounds]

Invisible Club 1

21.02.2024

1B 6B 11B 126-135BPM

Hello. Trevor here. It’s Wednesday. It’s time to enter the Invisible Club. 16 tracks for how ever long they take.

Intro 00:00

Nonima + Dissolved - Anamnesis 00:15

Futuregrapher - Flying Cars 19 03:28

Felbm - Sternenhimmel 09:34

Cosmic Analog Ensemble - Stereogrammes 12:10

Rival Consoles - Articulation 14:39

Four Tet - Insect Near Piha Beach 20:08

Amongst The Pigeons - The Lights Shine Bright On The Horizon 24:26

Gary Numan - Cars 27:22

Forq - Taizo 30:50

Felix Laband - They Call Me Shorty - Acid Pauli Short Remix 36:28

Acid Romeo - út í geim 41:49

Oneohtrix Point Never - Hyperdawn 45:21

Kosmischer Läufer - Zeit zum Laufen 172 49:03

Kettel - Dogan 9247 51:58

Grand Veymont - Bois Barbu 52:49

Roger Roger / Nino Nardini - Tomorrow 59:14

Outro 1:01:31

#Nonima #Dissolved #Mahorka #Futuregrapher #Intellitronic Bubble #Felbm #Soundway Records #Cosmic Analog Ensemble #Hisstology #Jakarta Records #Rival Consoles #Erased Tapes #Four Tet #Amongst The Pigeons #Gary Numan #Beggars Banquet Records #Forq #Felix Laband #Acid Pauli #Compost Records #Acid Romeo #Móatún 7 #Oneohtrix Point Never #Software Recording Co. #Kosmischer Läufer #Kettel #Grand Veymont #Objet Disque #Frente al Fuego records #Roger Roger

[burlveneer-music]

Web Web x Max Herre - WEB MAX II - don't know why the promo copy says "[r]oaming far from its Spiritual Jazz roots" because those roots are on full display throughout; and Carlos Niño guests on two tracks, fercryinoutloud!

German Jazz supergroup WEB WEB continue their collaboration with songwriter and producer Max Herre on their fifth album WEB MAX II, issued on Compost Records. First joining forces with Herre for 2021 offering WEB MAX, on this new long player the band has achieved much more than just the pure continuation of a series. Roaming far from its Spiritual Jazz roots, WEB MAX II is, musically and emotionally, probably the most diverse distillation of what WEB WEB has created in its seven years of existence.

#Bandcamp #jazz #germany #munich #spiritual jazz #web web #max herre #2023 #compost records

[saiupa]

ahead of its time

#future jazz #compost records

[bagcitylights]

#compost records #nu jazz #Joseph Malik #Spotify

[twistedsoulmusic]

Compost Records presents a deep dive into the modern Krautrock compiled by Fred and Luna. “Future Sounds Of Kraut Vol. 1” takes you worldwide with artists from Germany, Greece, France, Brazil, and beyond. Groundbreaking bands such as Kraftwerk, CAN, Neu, have undoubtedly left a lasting influence on music.

#krautrock #compilation #compost records #future sounds of kraut vol 1 #Spotify

[biosuoni]

The Soft White Hand by Felix Laband

#2022 #biosuoni #bandcamp #skz felix #compost records #electronic

[plant-cell-park]

new years eve is for me to actually write fic for oncee

#reverse 1999 #compost bin contemplations #FOR THE RECORD BY THE WAY. DOOR IS VERY HARD TO WRITE. FOR ME. #actually idk if he is i think i just find it hard to write reverse 1999 characters but DAMN IF I WILL NOT TRY ANYWAY #there were literally only 2 fics for door on ao3 thats a crime

[determinate-negation]

The average American produces 1,704 pounds of garbage per year, roughly three times the global average, according to a new report by the research firm Verisk Maplecroft. Across 194 countries, the researchers found that the world produces 2.3 billion tons of municipal solid waste each year, which is enough to fill 822,000 Olympic-sized pools. Of this waste, just 16% is recycled, while 46% is disposed of unsustainably in ways that harm the environment.  [...] Countries like the US and Singapore are reaching their landfill capacity, while countries like China and Malaysia have refused to continue accepting trash exported from Western nations.  Although the United States accounts for 4% of the global population, it’s responsible for 12% of the municipal solid waste that’s created, and historically would ship a lot of trash to other countries.   China and India, meanwhile, account for 36% of the global population, but generate only 27% of all waste. 

also according to a lot of studies the majority of garbage in the US is food waste which can 100% be composted and is the most environmentally destructive when sent to a landfill because it creates methane

from this source

America has got a waste problem. An average American produces about 4.40 pounds of garbage per day and approximately three-quarters of a tonne per year. If you are thinking “this can’t possibly be right, there is no way I produce THAT MUCH”, get ready for another blow. The U.S.A holds the record of producing the highest amount of garbage in the world, more than Russia, India, and even China. All that trash has to end up somewhere and as a result, the 2,000 active landfills in the US are reaching their capacity. What will happen when we run out of the room? Well, let’s ask a better question. What can we do to manage our waste better and prevent a catastrophe? Overfilled landfills are a big problem. Some states decide to simply burn the landfills, as burning reduces the volume of the trash in the landfill significantly. This frees up a lot of space, but the problem of toxic gasses and fumes being released into the atmosphere persists. Not only do these gasses contribute to climate change, but they can also deteriorate human health and end up costing millions in medical expenses. On the other hand, simply leaving the landfills as they pose other issues. The chemical and biological reactions taking place in landfills can create a lot of issues as these chemicals leach into the ground and contaminate water that municipalities may extract for use in their water systems. The piles of organic garbage also release harmful methane, a greenhouse gas more 86 times more potent than carbon dioxide. So, what can be done to alleviate these issues?

#you are all so fucking stupid btw #sustainability #waste management #mine

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part nineteen

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen

-

Finally, finally, finally, after the shopping has been done, and his stupid signature leather jacket has been adjusted, and Genesis has given his final bitchy warning about not acting out of character, finally… Sephiroth can have some peace and quiet.

Some day off! Not that the sparring wasn't great, and the clothes were frankly desperately needed, even if he couldn't make his usual colours fit right. All that aside though, he really needs time to himself! There's still so much to figure out! And he really needs to meditate. He needs to sort himself out! And he also, probably, needs to make use of Shinra's archive and records and study some history.

He also really needs a proper mirror in his little single room apartment. The bathroom mirror isn't enough to appreciate the new clothes. To think he used to hate dressing up formally as Shen Yuan. The difference of a few years as Peak Lord makes! And admittedly, Shen Yuan could've never looked anywhere near as good as Sephiroth in a suit like this. Sephiroth, really, looks just too good. Fit for a thousand magazine covers. Which is fitting because he's pretty sure Sephiroth has been on magazine covers back on earth! Which is kinda weird from this perspective! Famous in another world sounds like a damn isekai light novel title. 

Ah, but then his whole life is a mockery of the genre.

Dropping his shopping bags by the wardrobe and his new coats over its door, Sephiroth throws himself on his couch and sighs, running a hand through his long bangs.

He has clothing, his room still needs some improvements and will never be Qing Jing Peak, but it will do. Those were the easiest things to cover, really, and now that they're done, now that he's spent several hours getting used to this body and how it looks and who he's supposed to be… the world he's now part of…

Is he really just going to be Sephiroth from here on out? Is he supposed to forget PIDW and Binghe and Cang Qiong Mountain Sect? Just go on being Sephiroth, and put Shen Qingqiu behind him?

… He really isn't sure he can, actually! In a way, Shen Qingqiu had suited him better than Shen Yuan had. Well, once the OOC restrictions had come off and he was free to be himself, anyway. Being a soldier, a super SOLDIER at that, with alien DNA and the lifeblood of the planet in his guts… 

Resting a hand on his stomach, Sephiroth tugs at the blood red shirt he has on.

It's… really a bit like he's Binghe now. He's an alien hybrid thing here, so it's kind of like being a half demon! Or, ah, weirdly accurate biblical angel? What with the angel wing motif these games have going for themselves… Sephiroth's final form was kinda eldritch, from what he recalls. Wings sticking out every which way. Ridiculous and over the top in a way only Final Fantasy can be!

Damn but he hopes he can grow wings at some point. That would be just so cool, he doesn't even care how ludicrous it would get. The whole thing about wings being cause for existential monster angst is a thing he probably would need to consider, but, seriously. Wings! Yes, please, thank you!

It's the lifeblood of the planet that bothers him the most. Not just because of the oil allegory.

It's also how the local reincarnation cycle works. Though it's more like a spiritual composting rather than straight up reincarnation - but still! The energy pumped into his veins comes from the souls of dead things.

Yeah, he can't ignore that anymore.

Sitting up, Sephiroth gets out of the dress pants he'd bought and the button up shirt, switching back to the more comfortable pyjama pants and t-shirt he started the day with. He takes a moment to put purchases away and tidy his room up to peak Feng Shui before sitting down on his bed.

The energy in his gut is thick, massive and near immovable. He'd read up on Mako as much as there was to be read on his phone. The cycle went something like Lifestream to Mako to Materia - so, in the right conditions, the stuff actually crystallises. So, in a way, Materia is spirit stones! And that's kinda what it feels like in his gut - like his energies are condensing, hardening under pressure… crystallising. Except not into a golden core, nah, just one big shapeless lump of dead-weight-energy.

Well, not on his watch!

Relaxing and breathing in and then slowly out, Sephiroth thinks about all the Cultivation tricks he learned cultivating with damaged spiritual veins and incurable poison. Here he kind of has the opposite problem than with Shen Qingqiu, though - Sephiroth's spiritual veins aren't worn and fragile, they're hardened, like… scar tissue. He really feels a bit burnt on the inside!

Shinra's method was all quantity over quality where it comes to this stuff. Brute forcing their way into a semi-functional magic system, and who cares if it scorches the earth when there's instant profit to be made!

What a truly subtle metaphor.

Well… Shen Qingqiu has worked with worse - and at least there's a lot to work with! So as long as Sephiroth manages to avoid the Qi-deviation of the century, he will have one hell of a golden core! Just gotta not burn himself inside out! No pressure!

Qi Condensation stage - done! He couldn't have done better himself.  Foundation Establishment, however… yeah. Sephiroth really has a great body, but it is not prepared for a Golden Core Formation. His energy flow is all whack.

No wonder he cracked like an egg at the slightest bit of mental pressure… a bit like the original goods Shen Qingqiu, really, with his many Qi-deviations.

Right. Never mind that! He has a lot of work and not all the time in the world, alas. No seclusion training in this world!

Time to get to it.

#Fanfiction #svsss #ffvii #ff7 #Shen Qingqiu #Shen Yuan #Sephiroth

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

What’s your favorite method of brewing coffee? And favorite book to pair with it?

Look, it is great to brew coffee in super fancy ways. French press it. By all means. Whisper a prayer to the beans as you grind them by hand and then drip distilled water over the ground beans drop by interminable drop, spending twelve hours to make a single cup of coffee.

But for the record, while we do endeavor to make coffee that stands up to the fanciest tastebuds of the fanciest coffee drinkers, we ESPECIALLY made it to be wondrous and surprising for regular people who make coffee in a drip coffee maker and use it to bring energy to the weird little flesh sacks they are forced to live inside of.

Awesome Coffee is just better. It's better because it's grown by communities reversing deforestation, because the farmers are paid directly for the best beans, because it's perfectly roasted, because the packaging is compostable, and because all the profit goes to charity. But it doesn't come in a fancy bag or any of that stuff. It's just ridiculously good coffee.

#coffee #i'm so good at tags #are they even called tags now?

[trevlad-sounds]

THE MELD WELL 008

1 Lo Five Awareness of Awareness 00:00 2 Sub Sub Past 05:03 3 Albin Eftertext 07:46 4 Camille Saint-Saëns, Jay Chakravorty The Carnival of the Animals- XIII. The Swan (Arr. for Modular & Analogue Synths) 11:27 5 VSILE The Camping Song - AN-2 Remix 14:30 6 Evan Marien Teen Town 13/8 17:24 7 Felix Laband Down The Garden Path 19:52 8 Virgo Tower Of The Dual World 31:53 9 E Ruscha V Carried Away 39:53 10 Helios Fainted Fog 43:03 11 Spirituals You Would've Faked It 47:51 12 GELBART CHRIS MARTIN'S DREAM 53:15 13 LCD Soundsystem Someone Great 55:53 14 Hustleman Cop Transient Visitor 1:02:03 15 Pedrodollar Reality World 1:06:26 16 Tornado Wallace Kingdom Animalia 1:09:38 17 Telemachus Mirleft 1:14:01 18 Panamint Manse Sunrise On Panamint 1:16:28 19 The All Golden The Mandate of the Kingdom of Heaven 1:21:26 20 GLOK Pulsing 1:24:37 21 The Advisory Circle The Blue Energy Programme 1:33:18 22 Roy Comanchero Moon Hike 1:38:40 23 The Sweet Enoughs Cerberus 1:44:56 24 Lovelock We'll See 1:48:08 25 Amber Rose Tamblyn All In Favor Demo 1:51:39 26 Uncle Fido They Love the Snickerdoodles 1:53:10 27 Hello Meteor Built Environments 1:54:59

#Lo Five #Castles In Space #Sub Sub #Robs Records #Logic Records #Albin #Paltunes #Camille Saint-Saëns #Jay Chakravorty #VSILE #Theomatic Recs. #Evan Marien #Felix Laband #Compost Records #Virgo #Fantasy Enhancing #E Ruscha V #Beats In Space #Helios #Ghostly International #Spirituals #GELBART #full body massage #LCD Soundsystem #DFA (Death From Above) #Hustleman #Subexotic Records #Pedrodollar #Studio Barnhus #Tornado Wallace

[burlveneer-music]

URBS - Geheimland - cinematic trip hop

After excursions into Hip Hop, Rap and film music Austrian producer and musician Urbs has returned to the downtempo and Triphop styles that were the cornerstones of his most successful work, discovering his very own niche along the way. Using obscure samples as well as traditional instrumentation for his impressionistic instrumental pieces he takes us to „Geheimland“, the secret land of our imagination where things are not as they seem.

#URBS #electronic #trip hop #downtempo #cinematic #vienna #austria #2023 #compost records

[ratherbefangirling]

Belong 5

First || Previous || Next

Pairing: OT7 x reader

Genre: Fluff, Hurt /Comfort, Omegaverse

Synopsis: The pack seems to be falling for you but Jungkook doesn't like it one bit. What happens when he learns you are his mate

When Yoongi wakes up on the sofa bed of their home office, he feels a body on lined across his. Wiping his sleepy eyes he notes its Jin.

Jin and Yoongi had bonded well while it might not be apparent to others because they were both shy. There was nothing Yoongi wouldn't do if it meant making Jin smile.

When Yoongi tried to move away Jin whined hugging the beta.

"I have to go to the bathroom hyung" yoongi said softly causing Jin to raise his head. Then he muffled his head in the pillow which were scented by the pack and kept so even if Yoongi who often liked sleeping alone could still be comforted by his pack.

Instead of returning to Jin, Yoongi fixed a quick breakfast for the elder.

Finally Jin awoke to the breakfast in bed. They ate together. Usually they wouldn't do it so as to set a better example for the younger members but today it was just the two of them . Also it was very quiet in the pack house. The older one's though used to and perhaps even slightly fond of the chatter appreciated the peace while it lasted.

Jin decided to play video games. After hell at work video gaming was the best stress buster.

"What do you want for lunch hyung?"

"Dont know."

"What about ramen?" Yoongi asked dressed in an apron one hand holding a spatial and other on his waist.

"The pack is the only men I want" Jin said giggling.

Yoongi shook his head to hide his fond smile and decided to go to Hoseok who was working in his studio.

When Yoongi opened the door Hoseok was busy recording himself wearing earpods so as to not disturb the other people in the house. Yoongi took his time to appreciate his mates moves, until Hobi finally noticed him.

Removing his earpod he came closer to Yoongi.

"Did you want something Hyung." Hobi asked chugging down his bottle of water.

"Lunch.. I'm planning on making ramen do you want some?"

"I'm on a diet it's only chicken and eggs for me... though I'd appreciate a salad." Hoseok replied.

Yoongi nodded already thinking about what to make salad with.

After defrosting the meat and seasoning it Yoongi left it in the oven.

He decided to go check on the vegetables Namjoon had planted in their garden.

The garden definitely needs a trim. He will have to see who would be fit for it.

He dug through the dirt for the carrots. Yoongi also plucked some other greens before wiping his sweat and heading inside.

He quickly got to washing and prepping the vegetables. He made quick work of chopping the greens.

He put down his knife to choose a peeler for the carrots because he had hurt himself last time. But the pack wouldn't have it and 'Let him destroy his pretty hands'. So they made him promise to use a peeler.

"Even if it causes wastage."

"Even then." Jin had said solemnly.

"Don't worry about the peels they make good compost hyung." Namjoon had added.

The carrots were sweet as he bit into them. He wondered if you'd like the carrots.

Jin entered the kitchen and ate a piece of carrot.

"Kookies going to love this." Jin commented.

Yoongi felt a stab of guilt. He had forgotten how much Jungkook favoured carrots since then they would always called him thier little bunny.

Yoongi decided to complete the salad and started looking inside the cupboard for seasonings where he discovered a tin of chickpeas and decided to make Hummus.

The hustle bustle of his house woke Taehyung up, he searched his bed for Jimin but the temperature of the bedding let Taehyung know Jimin hadn't been here for a while. He turned and buried his head on the pillow still not wanting to wake up.

Jimin stood beside Taehyung's mom on the front of Taehyung's parents villa. The two bedroom house was cozy and filled with memorabilia of Taehyung and his family pack. The sunny weather and delivery of cabbages had prompted making of kimchi. Jimin was more than happy to help.

When Taehyung finally woke up, he decided to go to the living room. The sight of Jimin sitting between his family and looking right at home made something inside him warm, what was even better that Jimin was glowing from the praise.

"You're so lucky you have such a good pack omega." His father comments.

Taehyung only nods not ready to take eyes away from his omega.

Jimin notes Taehyung's presence and smiles even brighter, offering Taehyung some Kimchi and even if Taehyung isn't a fan of spice he'd do anything for Jimin. Their relationship was like that from the very beginning they would not expect anything but be willing to move the world for the other.

In the evening they spent time together at the park, swinging and playing on slides and drinking coffee from the convenience store (Taehyung drinks peach tea). Taehyung is pleased that Jimin's mood has remarkably improved. He doesn't even want to think about going back to the mess of the pack house.

"Taehyungie what happened?" Jimin asks concerned. Taehyung realises he had been unconsciously growling.

"Nothing." Taehyung replies. Jimin takes Taehyung's hands in his.

"Talk to me taetae." Jimin says softly and Taehyung thinks Jimin could never know the extent of Taehyung's feelings.

"I just we have to leave tomorrow."

"You can invite your family over." Jimin says almost naively until he hears Taehyung sigh and realises what Taehyung is actually worried over.

But instead of addressing Taehyung concern he gets off the swing and points towards the dumpling selling cart.

"Race you to the dumplings. Loosers going to pay." Jimin says taking off.

"Hey !! No fair." Taehyung says and follows Jimin.

Running and playing with Jimin, Taehyung thinks to himself that he doesn't need to be worrying when he can have delicious hot dumplings and listen to his soulmates laughter.

And it's especially nice to get to eat that last dumpling.

Even if he has stomachache later due to over eating

Suyeon had been going to your house when her pack mom had asked her to look after Jungwon her little brother because she had a doctors appointment and the rest of the pack was very busy.

Jungwon and her had a huge age gap but she still loved her younger brother. Buying baby clothes when he was younger. Dressing him up. Making him bend to her will was all quite fun.

Jungwon too was devoted to his older sister. And the three of you played house and building blocks too when you were younger.

Now you would go cycling together or just to amusement parks but because of college. You had gotten busier so you couldn't make time to hang out.

The knock on your door alerted you to Suyeons arrival opening the door you immediately took Jungwon in your arms. While he had gotten heavier. He still was a baby to you.

"How's my wonie doing?" You coo.

Jungwon starts to ramble about his school showing off the new swan he had made in his art and craft class.

Suyeon used to the scene had taken it upon herself to check out your kitchen for snacks.

" There's brownies I baked yesterday." You inform her as Jungwon decides to use the swing chair and opens his tab.

"Wonie we still have to do your homework later ok."

Jungwon nods only half listening. So you take it upon yourself to check his homework and set it on table so that you could supervise his work without having to interrupt your own.

You and Suyeon were developing the final proposal that you were going to submit to the Dean and to your sponsors. After that Yeonjun and Taehee would be responsible for collecting fees from students and the rest of the finances would be Suho's job.

For the proposal you and Suyeon had scoured a lot of both offline and online markets. Soobin and Suyeon had even gone to visit some of the warehouses and restaurants.

You placed your planner next to computer and made a PowerPoint presentation. Suyeon too helped check and cross check.

In the middle your alarm rang and you made Jungwon open his books to complete his homework.

Soon it was time for dinner.

"What should we have for dinner?" Sooyeon wonders

"This new place opened I got the menu pamphlet. Do you want to check ? " You ask.

Suyeon nods.

"I'm going to have Fish and chips and we will get Jungwon Dino nuggies. What about you?"

"The ultimate Burger sounds nice.. I think I will be having that" you say.

You decide to clear the tables and Suyeon takes one last look at Jungwon's homework and then keeps it inside his school bag.

"It's ridiculous how easy it is." She tells you.

"I'm sure it's tough for him." You reply.

"Yes probably." You both are in the kitchen and Jungwon is watching TV , Suyeon checks if he's engrossed and he is so she turns to you a mischievous smile on her face, one that you've learnt to fear. "So....."

"So?"

"Come on you and Yeonjun have been chummy. Is my bestie going to finally finally have a partner?"

"It's not like that.."

"Look me in the eye and say it." She says.

Luckily the door bell saves you.

"Food's here." You say your voice filled with more excitement than you felt.

Sooyeon eyes you but let's it go.

You lay the food on the table and it's nice not eating alone.

Jungkook had forgotten about his upcoming project for which he had a mere 24 hrs left. It was an important project but Jungkook put it off for later until the dead line was screaming at his face. In his defense the recent tension had made unable to focus but talking to his pack alpha and the rest of the pack had been just the thing he needed. Soon Taehyung and Jimin would come and then after his project they could go on a group activity possibly mountain climbing because nothings better than physical exercise for one's mental health.

About you he still had mix feelings. Jungkook used to be a staunch believer in fate until he had to give up his old family for his new one and because he loved the pack he couldn't let him love you even when you had the sweetest scent he had ever sensed.

He thought about you often more often then he'd like to admit about your smile, about your hands, about how soft you were against him he still dreams about it. He wonders what loving you will be like, how would you react if he kissed you or held your hand, would you like to hug him upfront or prefer climbing his back. Would you like staying in front of his camera or behind it. Would you make cute faces or funny ones to get him to laugh.

A cup is kept on his desk bringing him to the present. Jin puts a plate of snacks to knowing Jungkook wouldn't be moving.

The pack had decided to sleep early because they were going to watch the sunrise tomorrow to enjoy the kast moment of peace before the maknaes came back but more importantly because the maknaes would never let them leave this early and the bed is more inviting and almost irresistible so.

"Here's some coffee. Don't stay up to late. I'm going to sleep. Taehyung and Jimin are coming but they might be late. " Jin told him barefaced and dressed in his favourite blue pajamas.

Jungkook nodded. Jin gave him a smile pinched Jungkook's cheeks and then left.

Jungkook stretched and dived straight into his assignment.

He was highly engrossed in his world when the bell chimed. He ignored it at first but then remembered he was the only one up.

It was probably Jimin and Taehyung forgetting thier keys. They really should act more responsible. He would get extra cuddles for this .. well after his assignment was done.

I'm coming he called out to the dor as he unlocked but instead of his two packmates he came across a little boy.

"Hey little dude what happened are you lost?" Jungkook racked his brain to remember if he'd seen the boy before. He came up blank.

"Y/n Noona sent me. Noona is sick , she fell ... needs help." The kid sniffles.

Jungkook's heart stops. Then he picks up the boy rushes to your house.

You're going to be fine.

You have to be.

Hmm a cliff hanger .. sorry peeps don't worry though we just needed to screw some sense into our kookie

Yes I'm a villainess for ending it there. But hey our dude is coming in terms with his feelings.

Yes I'm very much into eternal roommate Yoonjin and Soulmates Vmin and overall ot7.

to be fair I have struggled writing this and because of other commitments I won't have time to write. I know this is shorter than usual but less update is still update right?

Hope you like it don't be shy in letting me know

Taglist : @jaiuneamesolitaiire ; @mintsugarmy ; @goooood-vibes ; @juju-227592 ; @singukieee ; @zae007live ; @rainbow-bunny-bts ; @fluffy-canada-pancakes ; @bleubirdinthesky ; @kyrah-williams ; @thedarkwinterrose ; @realswimshaddy ; @djodjom1 ; @thsrndkd ; @emu007 ; @jcrml

#bts x reader #ot7 x reader #omegaverse au #bts abo #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts drabble #abo au #bts series #bts au #jungkook x reader #ot7 x yn #bts ot7 #ot7 fanfic

[patchworkgargoyle]

🩸 A Steddie Big Bang Fic 🌙

Chapter 6

story by: @patchworkgargoyle || art by: @mcdadarts || playlist to come by: @steves-strapcollection || beta'd by: @tboygareth Rating: E || Words: ~6k || CW: blood drinking, accidental to intentional voyeurism, mutual masturbation (kinda) || Full tag list on ao3! Fic title from Wolf Like Me - TV On The Radio We're getting into the spicy shit with Eddie's pov today, folks! Mind the content warnings.

The research crew lasted twenty minutes after Harrington left before they gave up studying. Dustin insisted they’d checked every single musty tome even vaguely related to werewolves already and found nothing, and sitting there going through them all again was a waste of valuable time.

What wasn’t a waste, apparently, was sitting in the Harrington’s living room and watching a recorded version of Grease, commercials and all. Not that it mattered, because the kids all talked over themselves during the whole movie anyway. Though, sometimes, Eleven (and Eddie had yet to have that name explained) stopped to sing along under her breath and it warmed Eddie’s cold, sluggish heart so much that he sang Greased Lightnin’ with her. He hoped that would save him from facing Max’s brutal wit being turned on him for being a metalhead singing to a damn musical.

These children that Steve surrounded himself with–or, from the stories Dustin had been telling, it sounded like they adopted him instead–were insanely brilliant and brave, and the way they talked about Steve now that he wasn’t around wasputting even more cracks in the walls Eddie had put up to keep Steve at a distance. Not that it’d been working well in the first place. Steve himself had smashed a hole through it when he offered Eddie his own blood (something Eddie did his level best to Not Think About), despite only knowing Eddie for a little over a week. But Dustin, Max, and El, all so much more like Eddie than Steve was in school, and yet here they were, describing how he’d stopped some kind of lost swamp creature from ruining a farmer’s field, and probably being killed for it, with nothing but his charm and a big bag of compost. What a big damn hero he was.

So, sue him if he’d been rethinking all of his Doctrine bullshit. Steve wasn’t King of Hawkins High anymore; he was grumpy on the mornings he had an early shift, he indulged Eddie’s long-winded ramblings, owned a terrifying amount of medieval weaponry, and he took care of his people. And Eddie had found himself temporarily counted amongst them. It chafed and made him feel special at the same time.

Sometimes he found himself sneaking around the gym attached to the monster hunter library while Steve–no, Harrington swung around all sorts of dangerous and spiky implements in a training regimen designed to put all his rippling muscles on very athletic display. Eddie told himself he was studying up. In the unlikely event that Harrington did turn on him, of course. It was the smart thing to do.

Eddie had zoned out thinking of said training when he heard a car door close outside. Snapped out of his daydream, Eddie's head twitched towards the noise, and when Max’s did too all the kids were on high alert.

“That’s not Steve and Robin,” Max warned.

Dustin looked at Eddie, wide-eyed, and Eddie felt his hands clench in the arm of the couch. “Maybe it’s one of your moms?” he suggested, but Max shook her head. “Fuck.”

“It’s fine, I’ll answer the door, people know me and Steve are like this,” Dustin wrapped his middle finger over his index, “so that shouldn’t give anything away. I’m here all the time!” His nonchalant shrug did nothing to conceal how his voice cracked nervously and Eddie’s confidence sank lower. “Y’know what, maybe they’re just turning around and won’t even knock–”

Three hesitant knocks echoed down the foyer and Dustin winced.

Max glared, unimpressed. “You jinxed it, moron.”

“Shut up!” he hissed. Waving his hands around like a manic conductor, Dustin made everyone sit in silence while he stared at the door. Eddie hoped this would work, just waiting the person out, but his hopes were dashed when they heard slightly more frantic rapping. “Shit. Alright. Time for Plan B. Eddie, prepare for Plan C.”

“What’s Plan C!?” Eddie whispered anxiously. He hid his face in his hands when Dustin copied Eddie’s Dracula pose from earlier. “No, no, absolutely not, Dustin. Wait, hey!”

The kid raced to the door when the knocking came back and Eddie flung himself to the floor to not risk being seen. The sound of the lock was all the warning he got before Dustin opened the door and: “Oh, um. Hi there, you’re Steve’s friend right?” Eddie knew that voice. “Is he here still?”

Eddie popped up over the couch. “Chris?”

She grinned and waved, so Eddie scrambled off the floor and ran to tug her inside, deftly avoiding the sunshine, then wrapped her in a tight hug. Seeing her was more of a relief than he’d thought. Being stuck in Steve’s house without his stuff, his friends, his uncle…

“Oh fuck, I forgot to leave a note for Wayne.”

Chrissy snort-laughed into his shirt. “He called me and I told him you were okay, but I had to make sure.” She stepped back. “You do look okay. Good, actually. Even though, uh,” she trailed off and saw Dustin standing at the closed door wiggling his eyebrows at Eddie.

He narrowed his eyes at Dustin and subtly shook his head, only getting an eye roll in return. “We’ll talk about that later, I think,” Eddie said. “In the meantime, wanna help me babysit?”

After introductions were made–and El made Chrissy giggle when she bluntly but admiringly stated, “You’re very pretty,”–and they’d all settled back in, Eddie found that Chrissy fit right in. Dustin was a little starstruck at first, which Eddie chalked up to the whole freshman nerd kid and senior cheerleader thing, but as soon as she started asking about the summer camp hat he wore he started infodumping like his life depended on it. Chrissy, used to listening to Eddie’s endless speeches, participated like a pro. The way Dustin’s grin kept growing made Eddie think she’d just earned a friend for life. Eventually Max peeled Dustin away from Chrissy with a few well-placed taunts so she and Eddie could catch up.

Chrissy’s life had been going along as normal, though she’d been keeping tabs on Jason just in case, she told Eddie. He wished that hadn’t made her wince with guilty regret, but they’d fought before over her relationship with him so badly once it nearly cost him their friendship, so he kept his opinion to himself. As far as she knew, though, Jason was acting normally.

Eddie had a little more to talk about. Gossiping about Steve with her was a relief; who knew he’d learn so much about the former King in just a few weeks of forced cohabitation?

“You know, he mumbles to himself,” Eddie said, ignoring that he was also mumbling. “He’ll mumble and when I try to talk back he gets in a little snit and says ‘I wasn’t talking to you!’” Chrissy giggled at his very poor impression of Steve’s voice. “What does he expect me to do? He asks himself questions and I answer and he gets all bitchy at me. But I can’t win, because, get this, he’ll bitch at me again when I don’t respond because he’s mumbling in the same damn tone!”

Eyes sparkling with mirth, Chrissy covered her smile with a hand, her knees tucked up to her chest on the couch. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” she teased.

“I don’t like your tone,” Eddie said, eyes narrowed. Her smile grew wider behind her hand, and when she raised an eyebrow he folded his arms. “Don’t get any ideas, Cunningham.”

“No, nope, no ideas.”

He glared at her for a few more seconds before a song came on over the TV that jogged his memory and he pointed at the screen. “And you know what else he does? He sings. Into objects. Like his hairdryer, straight out of the movies like a weirdo!”

A loud snort caught his attention and Eddie’s gaze snapped to Max who was watching Eddie from the corner of her eyes with a smug, knowing expression. He felt like a deer in headlights suddenly, until Max rolled her eyes and went back to talking to El and Dustin.

“Despite all that, looks like you’re doing pretty well here. And you don’t seem, um, thirsty.” She whispered the last word with a curious quirk to her brow, and Eddie shrugged.

“Got it covered, the last time. You don’t need to worry about me so much, Chris, you’ve got your own stuff to handle.”

“Yeah, okay, my best friend being framed for murder isn’t something to worry about,” she said, rolling her eyes before turning sombre. “Eddie, I’m gonna worry until you’re safe. I hate that I can’t do anything about it.”

Eddie shifted in his seat. He was always uncomfortable with people worrying over him, but it’s not like she was wrong. This was serious, the worst scrape he’d ever been in and he didn’t even know why it was happening in the first place. Dragging a hand down his face, he heaved a sigh and looked down at the floor. “Sorry, Chris. You’re doing enough just by being here.”

Her mouth pursed unhappily, but before she could say anything more, car doors slammed outside once again and Max perked up.

“Steve’s home.”

Before he could react, the door flung open and Steve stood there, his eyes darting across the group. When he caught sight of Chrissy, he sagged. Robin, right behind him, looked ready to fight until she also saw that everyone was fine.

Eddie tracked Steve as he trudged up the stairs without a word. He was smeared all over with dirt, his face grim and tense, but the walkway above obscured him from view before Eddie could get a better read on him. Robin drifted into the living room and curled up into the one empty chair, almost swallowed by the plush cushions. Dustin got up and switched the TV off.

“What happened?” he asked.

“‘Nother werewolf,” Robin said quietly, and the words spread like a shockwave through all of them.

So, Dustin’s plan had worked. The killer struck again, proving that Eddie was innocent, but also that there was someone with a vendetta against werewolves. Steve must’ve had to bury the body too, and that made Eddie’s stomach drop to his feet. With a glance up, he saw Max looking more stormy than usual. She, Robin, and Steve were all in danger, then, more so than Eddie himself was, in his opinion, and now he really understood how Chrissy felt. How could he help them, stuck in this house, unable to go out in the daytime, waiting for the killer’s next move? His hands started to shake, whether it was with fear or anger he couldn’t tell, but he stuck them under his armpits and squeezed, ignoring the way his jaw tensed and his leg started to bounce.

“I’m so sorry, Robin,” Chrissy whispered, and Robin’s head snapped up like she didn’t even realise Chrissy was there, her eyes going wide.

Robin nodded, her surprise quickly eaten away by dread and she murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Were there any new clues?” Dustin asked with an unusual amount of respect.

“Steve and Hopper didn’t find anything, but Jason Carver showed up and said some things. Steve could tell it better but, uh, he should rest. This was… hard on him.”

“Jason?” Chrissy frowned.

“Yeah, I dunno, something about finding the body first but Steve didn’t really wanna talk about it. I think, maybe, we should talk about it in a day or something.” Robin fidgeted with her rings, looking from Chrissy to upstairs to the floor.

Eddie’s eyes were drawn to the upper floor where he could still faintly hear Steve’s heartbeat, the occasional foot fall, like he was pacing but trying to be quiet about it. His lips pursed into a thin, worried line.

“He didn’t tell you anything?” Dustin asked.

Robin gave him an unexpectedly angry look, so Eddie jumped in. “Dustin, man, you’ve been researching all day, give it a break alright?”

“But–”

“Push it and I’ll tell Jeff to kill off your beloved little warlock next session.”

Dustin’s eyes narrowed, but Eddie’s serious tone must’ve gotten through to him because all he did was huff and cross his arms.

“Maybe we should go,” El said, looking upstairs now too.

“I can’t drive, and Eddie can’t until tonight.”

“Shouldn’t leave at all, probably,” Eddie added dourly.

“I can drive you.” Everyone turned to Chrissy. “I’ve got my mom’s station wagon. It’s no trouble.”

Eddie nudged Chrissy with his knee. “You sure you wanna handle these gremlins?” he teased.

“I’ll keep him in line,” Max smirked while Dustin pouted.

Dustin crossed his arms and tilted his head back imperiously. “Eddie said grem-lins, plural, Maxine.”

“You’re pushing it, nerd.”

Robin stood in a sudden flurry of movement. “Okay! Better get all of you gremlins home before Chrissy decides to take back her very generous offer. Come on, shoes on, chop chop!” She clapped her hands in a way that Eddie intrinsically knew came from Steve, and the kids all stood and started towards the door for their shoes.

El, though, stopped beside Eddie. “Can you thank Steve for having us over for us please?” She said it so seriously, so earnestly, that Eddie swore his heart grew two sizes.

“Of course kiddo.” He reached out and ruffled her long hair, and she giggled while leaning away.

When Chrissy got up to leave, Eddie joined her, wrapping her in another hug before she left. “Thanks for taking everyone home.”

She shrugged. “It’s something I can do, at least. And, well, maybe Robin can tell me a little more about what Steve might’ve said about Jason. I’m… I’m really worried, Eddie.”

“I know Chris. I’m sorry.” He squeezed her a little tighter. “We’ll figure it out.”

With the brats corralled, Eddie waved them off from the shade of the doorway. Robin gave him a short, awkward wave, a blush over her cheeks when Chrissy put her hand on the back of her seat to back out of the driveway, and Eddie filed that away for another time. Then he shut the door against the sunlight and returned to the now eerily silent house.

It was something he noticed the longer he stayed here. When Steve was away at work, Eddie left to his own devices, all he had to do was read the books he’d brought, maybe snoop around for some others, plunk away at his guitar and fill the silence with the old records that the Harringtons left to collect dust. But even with the music playing, the house seemed to absorb noise, like a museum. And there were barely any signs of life, except for the occasional bit of mess that Steve left around when he ran out of time in the mornings. Everything that Steve left alone: the whole dining room, entire guest rooms, even the hallways seemed to eat noise and repel clutter that showed anyone lived there, even Steve.

Eddie had, admittedly, snuck into Steve’s room once or twice. He’d left the door open, what was a curious, bored vampire expected to do? There, thankfully, was some personality, though the awful plaid wallpaper did its best to drown it out. The messed up bed that Steve couldn’t be bothered to fix up, a few clothes scattered by his hamper, some magazines–sports, mostly, and some gossip mags, to Eddie’s disappointment–piled on his nightstand. He didn’t bother poking around in any drawers, didn’t want to risk moving too much in case Steve caught on and got miffed.

What did Steve even do in this house all alone? What did he do before he had to cohabitate with Eddie, who, he would readily and sometimes proudly admit about himself, was a rather irritating guest at times. Eddie kinda hated thinking about it too hard.

But right now, the silence was disturbed, just barely. Eddie could still hear the pacing above.

He was torn. Something in Eddie wanted to check on him, but Steve hadn’t come down to even speak to the kids. He would’ve heard them leaving. Would he even want the nosy freeloader in his house knocking at his door?

His feet started to move towards the stairs before he even decided. Each stair he climbed, he tried convincing himself that he was just heading to his own room–not his room, the guest room, nothing in this place was his, jesus–but he passed the door that he should have stopped at. Kept going to the end of the hall, and the pacing stopped.

“Hey, uh, Steve?” Eddie knocked on the doorframe, even though it was completely unnecessary. “You alright in there?”

No response. Eddie could hear Steve’s heart, racing too fast to be mistaken for calm. A few seconds passed. A few more.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbled. Turning, he was about to walk back to his room when the door opened.

“It’s fine.”

Steve had one hand on the door, the other hanging limp at his side. He was still covered in dirt; smelled like it too, fresh soil and sweat, and something distinctly off and Eddie had to fight wrinkling his nose at. It made Steve look pale, and Eddie felt that was wrong. Steve was built for the sun, for being golden, he shouldn’t look pale.

“You should shower, dude,” Eddie said, trying to a rueful smile, but the humour didn’t land. Steve just shrugged it off.

“I guess. I will.” He turned and wandered back into his room, leaving the door open, and Eddie couldn’t find a reason not to follow. It felt enough like an invitation. Walking in, he tried to make it seem like he was seeing the bedroom for the first time, but Steve scoffed.

“I know you’ve been in here, Eddie, I could smell you in here when I got home once, you don’t have to put on an act.”

Eddie stiffened. “Oh. Uh. Sorry dude.”

“Whatever. I kind of expected it.”

“That’s a lot of trust you’re placing in the resident drug dealer.”

Steve shot him an unimpressed look. “You sell weed, Eddie,” he said flatly. Wobbling his head, Eddie mouthed the words back at Steve silently, mockingly, which finally drew a tired laugh from him. It wasn’t the kind of laughter he could get after verbally tearing Frank Sinatra to shreds while they got high on the living room floor, but it was good enough. The sound didn’t last, though, fading like every other sound in this fucking house, leaving a gaping silence where they both stood awkwardly, a few scant feet between them.

Eddie shifted on his feet, stuck his hands in his pockets then took them out and folded his arms over his chest. Meanwhile, he watched Steve, who couldn’t look up from the carpet. “You probably don’t want me lingering around in your domicile, so I’ll just–”

“Are you thirsty?”

Now that, that rang out through the room. “What?”

“You spent all day around the kids, and you haven’t fed since, uh, since last time when everyone was around.” Steve finally looked up from the carpet, something burning in his eyes.

“Nah, I’m fine, pretty good actually,” Eddie stumbled out.

“You said you fed from Chrissy every few days though.”

Truth was, Eddie was hungry. It was sort of an ever-present thing, though easy to manage once he’d learned how to sate it in a way that actually satisfied him. And yeah, it had been a few days since he’d bitten Steve’s wrist, but the way Steve acted around him the next day–flighty and awkward, not sticking around in the same room too long–made Eddie less than inclined to ask for more.

“I can deal, Harrington, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.” Steve started walking closer. There was a determination, a heat, in his gaze that made Eddie feel a little warm and jumpy, and he started backing up. “You should be in peak condition if something happens. And I–”

Steve reached out behind Eddie and closed the door, Eddie having to back up against it, trapping them both in the horribly plaid room that Eddie couldn’t even see, because Steve was right there, in his space, so close Eddie could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Steve’s arm was still outstretched, hand pressed against the door by Eddie’s head.

“I want you to.”

Heat flashed under Eddie’s skin, his sluggish heart beating faster. “What the fuck do you mean, man?”

“I mean.” Steve ran a head through his hair, messing it up worse, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “It makes me feel good–better. The bite. And, you gotta drink, so it’s like. Win-win or whatever.”

“Win-win?” Eddie said, high and nervy, “The hell? How does it make you feel good?”

“Just, please?”

His voice sent a lance of desire and hunger through Eddie’s spine. Steve’s face looked haggard, dirt caked into every worryline, but something burned in his eyes, something needy, and he was so fucking close they were sharing breath. Eddie could see the blood coursing through his neck, the artery so close to the skin, and he must’ve stared long enough, hesitated enough, that it spurred Steve on. He deliberately pulled down the collar of his shirt and tilted his head to the side, baring his long, freckled neck to Eddie.

That desperate, unnatural hunger that had haunted Eddie since he woke up on a cold forest floor in Chrissy’s arms, ever-present and voracious, grew like arousal in Eddie’s gut. Saliva pooled under his tongue and, unbidden, his teeth began to elongate as his gaze locked onto that pulsing rush tantalisingly close to his face. The longer he looked, the faster Steve’s heart raced, the more tempting he was, the warm scent of his heightened emotions wafting into the air like wine and pulling Eddie closer.

Just a taste, he promised himself. 

Eddie let one of his hands wrap around the back of Steve’s neck, fingers threading through his soft hair, while he grabbed the hand Steve was using to hold the shirt down, pulling it further out of the way. One last glance at Steve’s face, and Eddie saw his eyes had gone heavy-lidded, his mouth dropping open just slightly when Steve caught sight of Eddie’s fangs. Cocking one eyebrow, he tilted his head further, into Eddie’s waiting palm, trusting he’d be held, and Eddie couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

He surged forward, and bit into Steve’s neck. The first gush of rich, metallic blood made Eddie groan and Steve gasp. Instinct made Eddie bite harder, deeper, his teeth sinking without resistance into flesh and muscle.  Eddie’s fingers clenched where they held Steve, pressing him flush against his own body. Steve didn’t even flinch, seeming to arch into the touch, panting. His skin flushed; Eddie could feel the flood of warmth down Steve’s neck from his face as it bloomed against Eddie’s cheek.

Feeling bold and ravenous, Eddie withdrew from Steve’s neck to manhandle him against the door instead, slamming him against it with a bang and pressing against the long line of his body before licking up the rivulets dripping from the punctures. The soft oh he drew from Steve felt as intoxicating as his blood. Clinging to Steve like he was, Eddie didn’t feel his hands move until Steve’s fingers dug into his side, keeping Eddie close.

Steve’s free hand clutched Eddie’s, the one resting on the unmarred side of his neck, twining their fingers together and squeezing, and Eddie’s breath hitched as he squeezed back. He laved the flat of his tongue over the wounds before pressing his lips around them in an open-mouthed kiss and sucked, drawing a fresh flood to the surface. The taste was fucking addictive. Something lurked in Steve’s blood that made the most base, monstrous parts of Eddie sing and snarl with greed, something heated and needy.

It clicked, when Steve’s hand roved down. Grabbed Eddie’s ass though his jeans to hold him still while Steve rocked his hips up, his hard dick brushing against Eddie’s own and making them both moan. And oh shit, Eddie was so hard it was painful.

That taste was desire, hormone-spiked blood, more potent than any drug or liquor Eddie’s ever had. The instant he placed it, he knew he wanted more. More blood, more of Steve. He met the next roll of hips with a reedy whimper, muffled against Steve’s neck as he still drank deeply of that heady taste, let Steve’s hand guide him this time, enjoying the thrill of being led. Until.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Steve groaned, low but loud in Eddie’s ear, and reality crashed down around him.

Eddie shoved himself off of Steve, ripping himself out of his grasp and pressing the back of his hand to his blood-stained mouth. Wide, panicked eyes met Steve’s, still heavy-lidded and dark but growing confused. God, what a vision he was as he leaned against the door, gasping for breath and hard in his jeans, flushed deliciously red despite being drank from like a fucking juice box. It was… it was terrifying. Fear sparked and caught in Eddie’s chest. What the fuck was he thinking!?

Brows furrowed, Steve stepped forward. “Eddie? What is it?”

“Shit.”

Eddie bolted. Dodged past Steve, whipped the door open and ran to the guest room as fast as his unnatural speed let him. He slammed the door behind himself and braced against it, scared that Steve would try to bust it down as soon as he came to his senses. And he would. There was no fucking way Eddie could get away with that.

He knew his bite did something. Chrissy had tried to do research for him, but couldn’t find much without Jason catching on, but she’d told him the bite makes prey less likely to fight back. But she’d only ever relaxed, like getting high, not–not like Steve trying to rub one out on him. Not like moaning Eddie’s name while they were so close together Eddie could still feel how it rumbled in his own chest.

Anxiously, Eddie licked his lips and only tasted Steve, wincing at how that made his cock throb against his zipper. “Shit,” he whispered shakily. A manic laugh threatened to bubble up but he swallowed it back.

That was so stupid. All of it. He should’ve realised as soon as Steve asked to be bitten again that something wasn’t normal about this and put a stop to it. Could’ve called Chrissy; she was coming by tomorrow anyway. Now he had to worry about Steve kicking him out and forcing him to walk home with the murderer still at large. The one who fucking framed him, for a reason none of them have discovered yet. He let his head fall back against the door with a hollow thud, and waited.

Minutes passed, then hours. The sun began to set, and Eddie found himself anxiously pacing around the room, packing his duffel bag then unpacking it, his clothes strewn out of it like a racoon had rifled through them all and found his wardrobe lacking. Yet through his own chaos, Eddie couldn’t stop himself from keeping an ear out for Steve.

He hadn’t left his room, not once. Sometimes he paced, and Eddie caught the occasional frustrated huff. When Steve’s habit of talking to himself kicked in, Eddie resolutely ignored it–meaning, of course, that he listened anyway but felt deeply guilty about it. But nothing he heard made any logical sense. “What did I do?” spat as a frustrated whisper was the most baffling, but Eddie refused to contemplate that it might mean anything other than Steve wondering how he’d gotten suckered into bumping clothed uglies with The Freak.

So Eddie paced and unpacked and re-packed and stewed over the countless stupid life choices he’d made to bring him to this moment until the sun was well beyond the horizon and his hair was a frizzy mess with how often he’d been digging his fingers into it. The carpet, shockingly, didn’t show a single dent with all the trudging around he’d done.

Simultaneously wiped out and still wound up, Eddie flopped onto the bed with an explosive sigh and slapped his palms over his face, grunting loudly. If Steve was debating whether he would kick Eddie out or not, he’d rather Steve get on with it and put him out of his misery before the sun came up. He didn’t want to burn to a crisp before he got to see Wayne again.

“Fuck it,” came another irritated whisper from Steve’s room. Eddie braced himself for stomping down the hall, for Steve ripping the door open, furious, demanding that Eddie leave. Instead, he heard bed springs squeak. It took little effort for him to listen closer, frowning in confusion.

Then, Eddie heard the quiet zip of jeans being undone, and shuffling. A relieved sigh.

What?

Was Steve doing what Eddie thought he was doing? There was no way. No fucking way. Sure, Eddie had been staving off the raging hormones he’d drank straight from Steve’s veins all night with little success, hoping he’d burn through them with his pacing and ignoring how he’d been half-hard for most of it. Steve had to have crashed from the high by now.

And yet. There was a hitched breath from behind the two doors separating them. Eddie swallowed, and dragged his hands down his face, letting them flop to his sides. This might be Steve’s home, but did he really have to do this now?

Eddie didn’t even want to admit what had happened, not that it helped. With Steve apparently jerking it just down the hall, though, the images rose unbidden behind Eddie’s scrunched eyelids anyway. How the blood flowed slowly over the tendon in Steve’s neck to pool in the divot between his collarbones, the dark desire in his blown-out pupils. The way Steve’s fingers dug into the meat of Eddie’s ass to pull him where Steve wanted, right against his cock.

The sound of Eddie’s name in Steve’s mouth as his lips brushed Eddie’s ear.

He swore soundlessly. Wriggling a little and hissing at the growing tightness in his pants, Eddie sent up prayers to whatever deity was listening to make him Not Horny. No thoughts of old people or relatives or complex dungeon traps could take his mind, or his hearing, off of Steve masturbating quietly just a few feet away. Didn’t he realise that Eddie could hear him? Steve wasn’t the only one with super hearing. It was rude, and terrible hosting behaviour, and–

Steve moaned softly, though it cut off like he knew he might be heard–too fucking late for that–and Eddie wanted to scream in frustration so badly he clamped his hand over his mouth. His dick throbbed, though, at the new sounds echoing his way. Wet, slick sounds.

Fuck. Swallowing down a wave of guilt, Eddie let his hand trail over the bedspread, along his hip, and cupped his dick through his jeans with a shuddery sigh. He bit his lips together to make sure no noises escaped as he squeezed himself. It’d been too long. Out of respect to his werewolf host, he’d hadn’t rubbed one out the whole time he’d been at Steve’s. Steve, apparently, had no such reservations. So…

So why not? Why the hell not. Eddie undid his fly and quietly as he could slipped his cock out, already hard, the tip flushed red. He couldn’t help remembering that he had Steve’s blood in his body now. How he’d tasted. Breathing heavily, Eddie stroked himself, thinking of the way Steve’s plush lips parted, the fire in his eyes as he begged Eddie to bite him… how big his cock felt, though it was trapped in his jeans.

The familiar weight of his own cock twitched in his hand, a spurt of precome dripping down, slicking the way. He could hear how Steve’s heart rate picked up now that he’d given up trying not to listen; now that it, too, had become familiar.

Steve made another sound. A groan, deep in his chest. Eddie’s mouth dropped open with a harsh sigh. He was so fucking turned on. The taboo of listening to Steve get off, jacking off to it, praying Steve couldn’t hear him too, made that frisson under his skin rise and burn so fast Eddie started to feel breathless, wound tight.

He stroked himself faster, hips canting up into his grip, desperate to chase the feeling as he imagined how Steve looked sprawled on his bed with his massive hand wrapped around his cock. Eddie couldn’t help wondering what it’d feel like to have Steve’s hand replace his own and that image made him clamp his mouth shut around a quiet whimper. 

Eddie heard Steve swear again, his voice going a little higher, and Eddie found himself nodding, like the other man could see him. He wanted to be seen. Wanted Steve to rush in, see him furiously pumping his dick and know exactly what got him here. Maybe he’d crowd Eddie against the bed and start to take him apart with his long fingers, grind their cocks together, fuck his way inside as they kissed all heated and dirty and chant Eddie’s name–

Steve moaned, then, quiet enough that Eddie almost missed what he said.

“Eddie.”

Shock forced a desperate whine out of Eddie’s throat before he choked it off with a gasp. Oh shit. Oh shit. He froze, could tell Steve had too. Steve heard him. He knew. He felt his heart in his throat, thundering away.

Until he heard it again. A tentative, “Eddie?” from down the hall. Confirming he’d been caught. Why didn’t Steve sound pissed?

There was the distinct click of a cap being opened. Still frozen, Eddie couldn’t believe his ears when he heard Steve start up again, jerking himself off slower now, the sounds slicker, wetter. He… he knew Eddie was listening, could easily guess why Eddie had fucking whined like that, and he was still…

God. Fuck. Oh fuck that was hot. And terrifying. How the hell was this even happening!?

Steve keened, loudly, and Eddie cursed as his hips bucked helplessly into the hand still wrapped around his aching cock. This was insane, absolutely nuts; Eddie had never even thought of something like this despite his expansive and wildly horny imagination. But he followed suit and started fucking into his fist, fast and filthy, past the point of caring that Steve could hear the bed creaking slightly with his movements.

And then Steve did it again. “Fuck, Eddie,” he moaned. Deliberately. Eddie couldn’t hold back the needy cry that rose from his throat, muffled as he bit his lip against the growing pleasure sparking along his nerves. He was gonna come, quickly, felt it barreling closer like a freight train. Steve wasn’t holding back his sounds anymore either, every gasp and groan unconcealed, stroking his cock without any fucking shame.

Eddie was shaking, panting hard, losing his rhythm. Thoughtlessly he started to beg, “Please, please please please.”

“Shit, yeah, do it, c’mon Eddie,” Steve urged, “gonna come too, oh shit!”

Fireworks exploded behind his eyes. Every muscle in Eddie’s body seized as he came, whining so fucking loud as he spilled over his fingers, cum splattering his shirt and soaking in warm and sticky, cock pulsing hard when he heard Steve cry out, a satisfied, guttural thing. Gasping for breath, Eddie went limp on the bed, his mind empty of all thought except for the way Steve moaned his name, how he sounded when he came.

There was no more movement from Steve’s room. Eddie could hear him in there, his breathing evening out along with his heartbeat, but he didn’t get up.

Was he waiting for Eddie? There was no way he’d go over there himself. He was still processing the everything that just happened. What if Steve had still been affected by the bite, and now that he’d gotten it out of his system he regretted literally jacking off with Eddie? More or less.

Eddie’s anxieties swirled through his mind until morning. Steve didn’t leave his room once.

#bee if you see this i'm so sorry i forgot to credit you until now i am a whole ass #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #vamp!eddie #werewolf steve harrington #stranger things #steddiebang #steddiebang23 #steddie big bang #steddie big bang 2023 #hideous thing sbb #sav scrawls stuff

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

For the record that person who mentioned "shoveling up into a mound" may have been referring to hügelkultur, it's a German style of gardening that utilitizes the sides of the mounds for growing space and is a bit more structurally stable than a simple mound of compost. Still not sure if that would help re: knees and ankles, but I just thought I'd put in my two cents

Hugelkultur tends to create long mounds, not the steep-sided structures I want, and also wouldn't work at the angle I'm building (directly down the sides of a very steep hill with high rainfall). I'm gonna do stairstep-shaped raised beds with sides.

I do plan on using hugelkultur mounds in the larger area of my yard to build gardens that can properly manage the water flow because right now it's just a wild zone of periodic mud and dust out there depending on the weather, but it'll be a few years before I can afford to get the big trees cut down that I want to use for it (they're mostly dead and if I don't get then cut down they will eventually fall on my house). But these beds are for higher maintenance vegetables and in a fairly limited and uncooperatively-shaped space so I want them high up and reachable without bending over or climbing anything. I've decided to build them out of sleepers (for framing) with tin sides, which seems to be the cheapest and most easy-to-assemble option. In a decade or so I might be able to put together something better but I have too many house maintenance tasks to pay for to be fancy right now.

[pumpkincurryelote]

Furthering the world-building thought experiment of Midwives as an independent organization or governing body in a stateless/moneyless world: Imagine their purview extending not just to birth, but to abortion, women's health, women's history, and women's liberation by force where necessary up to and including the execution of rapists. Exclusively female membership, living in facilities akin to non-religious convents. In fact the most powerful of any large organization. How their services/protection might be engaged would vary depending on region. If this be a post-patriarchy world, they would be the first line of defense against the resurgence of said disease.

Farmers would be second most powerful. As permaculturists in a world where everything is locally sourced, and they would be responsible for protecting biodiversity of both flora and fauna in their biomes. There is no mass production of anything in this model. Wild animals are respected members of the community alongside domesticated ones. They monitor and survey the land, on guard for outbreaks and potential disasters, tending the food forests and keeping the biome healthy. They deliver non-human medical care to every creature in the land. Their voices are heard first on the floor of any development project and they can set hard boundaries or veto projects outright. While not explicitly stated to be female only, females would nonetheless outperform males in this field. Even in hunting.

Next up is Libraries. Librarians collect, organize, and administer all manner of public resource, not just books. Knowledge, tools, furniture, clothes, technology, seeds, genetic material, whatever is needful. They keep mundane records of everyone in their community, and community members can deposit personal logs for safekeeping here. Indeed anything the community deems of utmost value may be stored here. Every library is built to withstand assault, and to protect its contents-- a last resort lockdown would fully seal the library from the outside world for 100 years, killing anyone inside. The identities of chief librarians with access to sensitive collections (and the ability to lock their library down) are shrouded in secrecy. Field librarians go out on expeditions to collect data, specimens, etc where permitted by a region's Farmers (and always with a Farmer in attendance).

Hospitals are fourth, and we all know what they're supposed to do. Universities are arguably fifth, and bosom buddies with Libraries. Universities would be the only "large cities" you ever see, and are major transportation hubs. Any large scale project happens here-- rocket to the moon large. Trains occupy this status bracket as well, being the main arteries of civilization/transportation. Ocean cargo could be an extension or a symbiotic relationship.

Of equal influence are Mail and Sanitation. The postal service delivers through whatever means necessary. Any interference with another person's mail results in brutal application of force. No matter how isolated or alone you think you are, the post service will find you. If anybody at all sends you a message, you WILL receive it. They're the best trackers in the world. Many have working dogs as companions. Some have birds. All of them tend to be loners unless someone has done them dirty or behaves dishonorably.

Sanitation encompasses recycling/repurposing of non-compostable goods, composting itself (composting toilets are the norm), janitorial work, pandemic/outbreak containment, and burials (where applicable). If there's a landfill or old oil spill that needs remediation, they're there. Many have skill in repairs/fabrication, and choose this life to have first pick of scavenged parts. Many are also skilled at soapmaking, extractions (Greek oregano, eucalyptus, wintergreen, etc.), and distillation (vinegar).

#radblr #radfem safe #solarpunk #anti capitalism