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#I know it was a little bit of a wait
whumpiary · 2 years
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VAMPIRE TUCKER TAKE MY MONEY 💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸
just a fun little ditty while all other writing routes are blocked. thank you for the inspo/encouragement anon! definitely indirectly inspired by the likes of @deluxewhump and @ashintheairlikesnow
content warnings: blood, blood drinking, some light murder, supernatural addictive substances
-
A square of silvery light streams in through the window, highlighting dust motes, half a frame of abstract wall art, a stain of bright red on tangled white bedsheets. Almost everywhere else, the blood is rendered dark and colourless by the shadows. But in that one little quasi-spotlight, it shows its colour: vibrant and enticing. Full of theoretical life. The hand of the body it was drained from, of course, lies lifeless and perfectly manicured atop the mess, the pale skin turned almost luminous by the glow of the streetlights and the moon.
It’s all quite artistic nonetheless, Tucker muses. Shame he doesn’t have a camera.
He wipes his mouth clean on a blanket before dropping it to the floor without ceremony. His meal had been a messy one tonight. It had wriggled.
He idly sucks his fingers clean of blood, picking up a book from the bedside table of their would-be host before putting it down again. He picks up a small metal trinket and does the same. An old ticket stub, a picture frame, an uncapped bottle of cheap perfume. All human’s little knick knacks were the same.
Up on the windowsill, his companion sits perched, not unlike a cat, a silhouette of bent knees and shoulder length curls from the moment they’d been welcomed inside, when their host had asked him if he wouldn’t be more comfortable on the arm chair in the corner. Such courteous last words.
Tucker, frankly, is sick of all the pouting.
“Come on Cassius,” he sing-songs. He licks blood from where it’s pooled in his palm. “Come get your supper from the nice dead lady.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Oh,” Tucker tuts, bottom lip jutting out in an utter mockery of sympathy. “I don’t believe you.”
The little thing curls his arms around himself, curling oversized jacket tighter around his body. “M’not.”o
He shivers as he’s doing it, letting out a little huff of breath that would fog the window if he were mortal. Tucker closes the distance between them slowly, licking blood off his fingers with each deliberate step.
“You know if you had a little drink you wouldn’t feel so cold,” Tucker says. He walks fingers up Cassius’ arm, only to get shrugged off when he gets to the shoulder. “Or so grumpy.”
“I’m not-“ Cassius huffs air through his nose again. “Fuck off, alright? I’m not cold. I’m not hungry.”
“But you are grumpy.”
Cassius tries for a little shove. It’s far too easy to step sideways and have him miss, tumbling forward off the sill as he over corrects. Tucker doesn’t give a chance to steady himself. He grabs his hair and pulls him backward, kicks his knees out for good measure so he can look down on him. He always likes looking down on him.
Cassius claws at Tucker’s hand, baring teeth, cute little fangs on display. Tucker smiles down at him, serene and satiated from feeding. He feels a little blood-drunk tonight, a fun floaty feeling sitting hand in hand with the sudden rush of strength and vigour.
“You’re being a baby,” he says with a sigh as Cassius writhes in his grip, far too weak to actually get anywhere. If he’d had a little drink maybe he’d have been able to put up more of a fight. He hadn’t had a nip in near three days.
“You didn’t have to kill her.”
“Oh is that what this is about.”
“You said it wouldn’t be like this.”
“I said it didn’t have to be like this, not that it never would.”
“I don’t think that’s why you’re so grumpy, though,” Tucker murmurs, almost conspiratorial. “You didn’t mind the killing on Friday.”
Cassius tugs a little against the grip in his hair, sneering. “That was different.”
“Why?” Tucker says absently as he straightens the fold on his sleeve. “Because he sleazed on you?”
He gets a glare for that one. “No.”
“Me think the boy doth project too much,” Tucker muses. He taps the little thing on the nose, laughing again as Cassius swipes at him like an irritated cat. “No, no. I know what you need. And it has nothing to do with your little vigilante vendetta situation, does it?”
Cassius gives him a flickering glance, far too transparent, before looking away again, glaring out the window at the here-and-there raindrops spattering the glass. The apparent nonchalance doesn’t cover the itch needling just below the surface though. It’s obvious. Tucker knows what he wants. He knows what he needs.
Tucker brings his own hand to his mouth, eyes on Cassius as he presses the pad of an index finger to the very tip of one fang. He feels the familiar pierce the flesh. The sweet, sharp sting of a needle point. And Cassius can smell it. It’s there in the minute flare of nostrils. The tiny parting of his lips as he sucks air in. Thirsty boy.
Tucker brings his hand down to inspect the single droplet of blood swelling up on the curving swirls of his own fingerprint, “You want dessert before dinner, sweetheart?”
Cassius keeps his eyes averted, pressing his little lips back together until all that’s left is a thin line of a mouth. He shakes his head, dark little mane of curls tugging in Tucker’s grip.
Tucker tuts his tongue, pouting again for a moment before bringing his hand closer in to Cassius’ face, “You sure, baby?”
He can barely contain his amusement at Cassius’ twisting hands, white knuckled around the hem of his own hoodie, at the little twitch of his nose as he tries not to smell it, tries not to look. Another little shake of the head.
He was good at denial, Tucker could grant him. Years of practice from a sire who kept him hooked on vampiric blood while refusing to turn him properly all the while. What did that do to a person, exactly? Turn them into something unlike a person at all, he was sure. Even for the likes of them.
Tucker hums in thought. He reaches his hand forward, dragging the droplet of his own blood over the little thing’s lips, an uneven line over the Cupid’s bow, dragging down at Cassius’ bottom lip for a moment as he goes, his teeth glinting in the glowing light.
And that does it, doesn’t it? Another little intake of the breath, deeper and more primal than the first, and Cassius’ eyelids flicker. His eyes snap to Tucker’s with naked hunger, pupils dilating wide and black as a predator’s ready for the hunt. If the thing had a pulse, Tucker’s sure he’d be able to hear it from where he stands.
Cassius lasts maybe a second longer before his pink little tongue darts over his lips, laps up the blood. He’s desperate for it. Stranded in the desert, ten miles from water.
He lurches forward for more only for Tucker to pulls his hand right back with a grin, “What do you say, sweetheart?”
There’s barely enough hesitation for the thing to swallow. “Please.”
Tucker laughs, the sound melodic against the uneasy rhythm of the rain picking up outside. He brings his mouth to his wrist, fangs piercing the flesh there with ease. It’s a good thing he still has one hand keeping Cassius’ head in place or he’s not unconvinced the young little creature wouldn’t snap up and bite just to get his fix faster. So cute when he’s deseprate.
As it is, he suckles on to Tucker’s wrist like a starving pup on a teat as it’s offered. all that fight melting away to a deep satisfaction as he drinks, eyes closed in a surrendering bliss.
“Nothing but the best for you, hm?” Tucker croons. “My little connoisseur.”
Cassius speaks around a mouthful of wrist, “Shut up.”
Tucker hums with a smile, tilting his head as he ruffles Cassius’ hair. Cassius makes a protesting sound that fades quickly to a low vibration in his throat as he continues to drink. If Tucker didn’t know him better he’d almost call it a pur.
“When you’re ready to play nice again you’re going to clean up this mess,” he tells him. “Have a little snack for the road and then see what we can take from the good lady’s stuff to sell on. Got it?”
When there’s no response beyond the obscene suckling of blood Tucker sighs, gripping the young thing’s jaw with a thumb and forefinger pressing into his cheeks. It puckers his lips, forces him to unlatch, hazed eyes flickering up with near confusion as he refocuses on the here and now instead of his little fix.
“Got it?” Tucker prompts again.
Cassius nods in his grip, blood smeared lips parted to take in shaky, unnecessary breaths. It’s a cute little habit. His eyes can’t stay on Tucker’s face, just keep sliding to the little piercing marks on his wrist. Tucker rocks back on his heels with a plaintive hum.
“Better watch yourself,” Tucker warns him, waving his arm like a forbidden fruit. Dilated pupils follow it like a cat tracking the swing of a pendulum. “If you’re not careful, you’ll rot those little teeth.”
He taps the tip of Cassius’ nose again, the creature shaking his head like a dog to get away from it. Tucker laughs before giving his wrist back over and Cassius attaches to it like it’s the answer to life itself. Perhaps to him, it is.
There’s another little humming vibration. A noise of relief. Tucker laughs again and cards his fingers through Cassius’ hair, for once the liytle thing too enraptured to shake him off. It’s hard not to have an affinity for a thing so reliant on you, isn’t it? Made you feel godlike. Affectionate, even.
“My little junkie,” he croons. Blood smears from his fingers through Cassius’ dark hair. “What on this godforsaken earth would you do without me?”
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gulducock · 2 years
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look at this pic i found on twitter
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formosusiniquis · 1 year
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y'know like barbie
ao3
It's Erica who gives him the idea, incidentally. Though she carries herself with a maturity that far surpasses the boys most days and though she's been through multiple life altering events, she does continue to only be eleven. Which is, it turns out, prime babysitting age.
The Sinclairs are going out of town overnight, it's their anniversary -- 18 blissful years, since our marriage can vote we thought we deserved a night away -- and they don't want Erica to spend the night home alone.
Enter Steve, who the Sinclairs trust with their children and who is inexplicably the only person Erica would accept staying the night with her. Steve honestly didn't believe it even as Mrs. Sinclair was saying it. But he smiles and nods, looks over the emergency numbers on the fridge when they're pointed to, nods at the money on the counter for food that he probably won't take, and waves as they walk out the door promising that he and Erica will be fine for the night and not to worry.
It's only when their car is out of the driveway and the door is shut that Steve realizes he isn't really a babysitter. He is a keep children alive while in a dangerous situation and when the situation is over drive them around because you feel bad that their childhoods have been marred by trauma-er which doesn't have quite the same ring as babysitter, and it's a lot harder to say with that rude tone the boys have been favoring. He also realizes that he's never actually dealt with children, or not girl children. The boys had all been older than Erica, when he had started keeping them alive. Max was definitely basically a teenager when he started really dealing with her; and she was usually okay to do what the boys wanted to do, like go to the arcade. Hopper didn't really trust him with El and that was fine, he wasn't sure he trusted himself with El either.
It put him in an awkward spot now though. Staring at Erica in her kitchen, a little afraid to ask the question on the front of his mind which was "What now?"
So he asks the second question on his mind, "What do you want to do that isn't eat ice cream all night?"
Say what you will about Steve Harrington, and a lot has been said, but he always keeps his promises and he always brings a pint of ice-cream for Erica to have when he comes over to the Sinclair house. Tonight he brought three, all different weird flavors he thought she'd like to try.
"Why can't I eat ice cream all night?" She says it with a challenge in her eyes, but he'd bet dollars to donuts that she's just doing it to make him sweat. "Because I've seen you eat ice cream, we've only got enough for two hours at most." His hand migrates as if of its own mind to his hip. "You need more than two people for Dungeons and Dragons, right?"
Her brows raise, for the first time since he's met her Erica Sinclair is stunned silent. Maybe she's just surprised he got the name right.
It lasts about as long as it takes him to notice it. "You'd play Dungeons and Dragons with me?" There's something fragile in the way she asks, and there is the eleven year old girl she's meant to be. 
"Sure, you'd have to show me how, but if that's what you want to do I'm game."
Eyes narrowed in a distinctly intimidating way he kind of thinks she stole from Nancy, he does his best to make his sincerity clear on his face. "We need more than two people, but I've got something else we can do if you think your fragile manhood can take it."
He's got a retort at the tip of his tongue about just what his manhood can take and remembers just in time that yeah probably shouldn't make a joke like that in front of an actual child. "My pride isn't that delicate, I think I can handle anything you dish out."
"Famous last words."
He follows her to her bedroom, waiting outside the doorway to let her space stay private until he's told to come in. A clear plastic tub slides out from under her bed, out of sight but easily accessible and when the lid pops off he gets why. Rows of Barbies stacked neatly on top of each other, a mass grave for childhood. Steve has a stuffed bear, fur rubbed off of one ear, tucked up on the shelf of his closet that also got put away sooner than he would have chosen to, when it was too babyish.
“Alright, so who is the, like, elven warrior.”
“That’s not how you play Barbies.”
It’s snapped so fast that he thinks it embarasses her. He tactfully avoids eye contact, pulling out a doll with blonde hair snipped into a professional, if uneven, bob and a green skirt set. She's missing a shoe. “Then how do I play Barbies?”
“That one just won the Nobel Peace Prize, she solved world hunger, but she has plans to kill the Barbie who won the prize in Physics because she stole Barbie One’s research and gave it to NASA claiming it was her own.”
“Right, of course.” This was the kind of shit that happened on Dallas, only Barbie had a lot more awards. “And they’re all called Barbie?”
“Except for Ken, but Ken doesn’t do anything.”
“Well if Barbie just won the Peace Prize wouldn’t she use Ken to kill Barbie so she doesn’t get caught.”
Erica manages a look that is both condescending and considerate. “Barbie can do anything, including get away with murder; but she wouldn’t want to dirty her hands with that sort of thing.”
“And if Ken goes to jail it’s no loss.”
“Right.”
-
So maybe it's more accurate to say that Dustin actually starts it.
Dustin with the shittiest attitude this side of the Ohio, something Robin blames him for.
“Like father, like son.”
“Dustin doesn’t even know his dad.”
“I mean you and Eddie, dingus.”
“I am not that kid's dad. A brotherly figure at best, strong male role model more likely.”
“He’s a bitch because you are, Steve. Maybe if your and Eddie’s love language wasn’t being as bitchy as possible it wouldn’t have rubbed off on your kid.”
“Please don’t put Dustin and rubbing off in the same paragraph let alone the same thought wave.”
Dustin comes sprinting into Family Video on a Tuesday afternoon. “Steve! I need your car.”
“Did you learn how to drive when I wasn’t paying attention?”
“Obviously, I meant I need you too.” His hands are on his hips, eyes rolled. Shit maybe he did get it from Steve. “There’s this theoretical physicist coming to Notre Dame to give a talk on the Multiverse Theory.”
Steve was allowing himself a second to consider whether this was worth it, for once, instead of just blindly agreeing to drive Dustin wherever. The drive sucked ass, but it would put him close enough to Chicago that he could try to find a music store that would carry albums from the international metal bands Eddie couldn’t stop talking about.
It was a second too long for Dustin. “Steve, a theoretical physicist-”
See Steve had this suspicion that the kids did actually think he was an idiot. He was pretty sure that none of them, hell maybe none of Hellfire, save for Lucas realized that every athlete in the school had to keep up at least a 2.5 GPA. Which might not have been anything to write home about but Steve kept a 3.2 for most of high school, until the multiple concussions started to catch up with him. He wasn’t stupid, was the point and even if they didn’t think he was an idiot in a mean way he was a little sick of the shit.
“I know, like Barbie.”
That shuts Dustin up real quick.
“N- no, not like Barbie! Barbie is some girl's toy.”
“Excuse me?” Robin, who told Steve that she would not help him parent his children on work days or any other day ending in y had remembered that Martes doesn’t have one and her shift was almost over. “What does that mean, exactly, a girl’s toy?”
“And,” Steve adds, because he can and because Eddie made him drive him to fucking Bloomington because he was fixated on time travel and needed access to some science journal that only existed at Indiana U apparently, “Barbie is on a research team looking for the Higgs particle so she can start figuring out time travel.”
The bell chiming as Dustin leaves has never sounded sweeter.
He’ll definitely end up taking the twerp to stupid Notre Dame.
-
The thing is that Steve thinks he’s never really stopped being a bitch.
He doesn’t want to stop. He likes being bitchy. It’s fun, when you’re doing it with people you like it’s pretty funny, and honestly he’s kinda like Spiderman. With great power comes great responsibility, he’s only bitchy responsibly now.
And it’s actually perfectly responsible as an older brother type babysitter figure to correct the behavior of the younger siblings by being bitchy. If they don’t learn at home they’ll go out in the world thinking that kind of behavior is acceptable, see Steve Harrington in his early high school days who talked to people like his father did.
So when Mike interrupts El with, “I’m not going to ask Steve, he probably doesn’t even know what a Pulitzer is either.”
He says, “Oh, yeah like Barbie won. Or Nancy will someday, probably. It’s a journalism award, Wheeler.”
And when Lucas corrects, “I don’t actually think you can win an award for comics. It’s still really great though, Will!”
“Barbie won the Kirby Award in 1985 for best artist, I’m sure Will is soon to follow.”
Or when Nancy tells Holly, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to be something important instead?”
“You could be an actress and do something cool like go to space if you want, Hols, like Barbie.” And maybe he says it with a little more bitch than he should that time, but he’s seen the ballerinas in Nancy’s room, she didn’t always want to be an investigative journalist.
It gets to be second nature. When someone starts being shitty about something or to lighten the mood.
Erica doubts whether she should run for student council. It's her first step to being actual president, like Barbie.
Dustin makes a crack about Steve's possible future prospects when he butts in on a conversation between Steve and Robin. "I could do all three, I could be a counselor and a hair stylist and an engineer. Maybe I'll add EMT too, Barbie wouldn't stop at three, why should I?"
Or when Mike sneers at him, "What are you a cop?" All because Steve told him not to buy weed now that Eddie had stopped dealing.
"Ew, no, because you look like a fresh-faced little narc trying to be cool and you're gonna get ripped off."
"What so not like Barbie?"
"The Barbie world has achieved equality at a level that it doesn't need the cops." Eddie sometimes has to get high after a run in with Powell or Calahan who he still doesn't really trust after the spring. Steve has been treated to many a lecture on why the police were a waste of resources.
He lets Mike sit with that for a minute before he adds, "Like Barbie, I am very cool and know what it looks like when I'm being taken for a ride. If you're gonna get pot from someone other than Eddie, ask Hop where he used to get all of his shit."
It doesn't feel stupid, until El comes running into the cabin one afternoon that Steve has decided to join the rebuilding effort. It’s actually just him and Hop, who has started trying to quietly parent him, something he’s not entirely convinced isn’t revenge for telling Wheeler that Hop has smoked pot before. Steve is pretty sure El was crying when she came in, something he bumps up to a certainty when he sees how awkward Hop looks right now.
“You mind taking that kid? It’s been a long time since high school.” he rubs the back of his neck, Steve does appreciate that he has the decency to feel weird about asking. “If it’s anything outside of big brother shit I can take over.”
He does let himself get suckered by that big brother line.
El is facedown on her bed in a clear ‘leave me alone I’m crying’ pose but he figures he’s already here it’s not like he can turn around and tell Hop that he was too afraid to approach a crying teenage girl. Like that wasn’t the whole reason he’d been sent in the first place. “Hey Ellie, can I come in?”
She sits up, tear tracks plain on her face but no more are falling, and nods in that endearing, aggressively certain way she’s got. “Is everything okay?” He pauses and asks, “Was it Mike?” because he knows that’ll be the first thing Hopper asks when Steve comes back out.
“You are worse than Dad.”
“That stings, Ellie Bell.”
She takes a deep breath, steeling an already impressive will, “Lucas says it is okay to just want to be happy right now, but all they talk about is what they are going to do. Dustin is talking about going to admission early, Will talks about talking to Dad and Joyce about art school, Lucas worries about his sports and scholarships, and Mike talks about classes that count twice. I do not know what I want to be. I do not know why I have to be anything.”
“You guys have been through a lot. I don’t think anyone would blame you for taking time to just be a kid.”
“What if I never want to be something? What if I do not ever want to go to college?”
He’s made his way over to the bed with her, sits tentatively on the edge like he’s seen Joyce do before. “Then you don’t. You’ll probably have to get a job at some point, but that doesn’t have to be what you are. Lucas isn’t a landscaper just because he mows lawns in the summer.”
“You don’t think Dad would be upset?” she asks.
“I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would really make Hop mad. And you might change your mind. I've been out of school for almost two years and I’m only thinking about college now. Or you could go to college and change your mind about what you want to be. You could be a hundred things, you could be anything! Like Barbie.”
He feels like an idiot almost immediately. A jerk quickly after that. He’s made El’s genuine crisis part of his stupid running joke. But something settles in the room. The underlying tension, the thing that had the hair on the back of his neck raised. He realizes, now, that her powers had probably also been on edge.
"Like Barbie." She says it with a graven seriousness, like Steve's dumb little joke is a mantra now.
"Yeah, and you're a sophomore you don't have to have your whole life figured out right now. And don't take life advice from Henderson anyway, he thought it was a good idea to raise an Upside Down slug as a pet."
He mostly just used it to be a bitch though. Because it was fun. No, it was what he was good at. So good at it he didn't even have to try.
Because Steve had a plan to be bitchy. Specifically to Mike Wheeler who kept flirting with Steve’s boyfriend while taking advantage of his hospitality. Sure it was at their stupid Dungeons and Dragons game, and yeah Steve was the one who said they could host the game at his house now that Eddie had graduated. Yes, he knew Eddie didn't mean anything by it when he responded and usually didn't flirt back with the kids. But it was still the kind of behavior that had to be gently corrected, for Mike's sake because if he didn't stop things were going to get drastic.
His initial plan is already in action. He encouraged El to come along to watch the Party play. It was, admittedly, a half hearted plan. Wheeler got so awkward anytime El was around he mostly just hoped that would keep him from trying anything.
It isn't. Eddie starts to describe a new character, "Blonde and statuesque, she has a long bow in hand and delicate elven features."
And even though El is sitting a few feet from him Mike perks up the way he always does when there's a new NPC to flirt with. He is going to have to have a talk with Eddie about letting the kid try out a bard.
He does at least have one other tool in his belt. "Oh, like Barbie."
Steve knew what he'd get as he said it. A groan from Dustin, who falls for this as being sincere about as often as he falls for the dumb-dumbs and dipshits line -- which is everytime for the record. Will and Lucas keep their laughs small, enough that they're covered by Erica's snort. The original Hellfire crew mostly looks confused, it's becoming less and less their default as they warm up to the Steve he is rather than the Steve they thought they remembered; but he likes to keep them on their toes.
Eddie is charmed. He can tell. Sees him duck his head behind his screen and his binders, trying to preserve the stern and scary dungeon master image. That apparently isn't possible if you're smiling like an idiot at your stupid boyfriend, so he's been told.
And Mike has maybe been on the wrong end of the joke a few more times than everyone else. He turns an interesting shade of red, two parts anger and one part embarrassed is Steve's guess. The foot stomp is unexpected, but he expects its been passed down the Wheeler line as a shared signal of outrage. "Not like Barbie, this isn't some stupid kids game. She's probably a hot, wisened archer ready to reward us for helping her village, not some stupid doll that you're obsessed with."
Eddie's blank face with the twitchy eyes has fallen into place when he sits back up from behind his screen. His things aren't going according to plan, panicked face. "I think that's a good place to end things this week. Wheeler, Henderson, Jeff, and Lady Applejack you've all cleared enough experience to level right? Do that before next week."
Steve knows enough to keep his mouth shut while everyone packs up to leave. Sends a small smile to Erica on her way out to the family minivan, he knows she struggles a little being the youngest at the table even if she won't say it. He has to imagine that the outburst had stung a bit.
"You gotta be nicer to little Wheeler." Eddie chides once everyone is gone, halfhearted at best when he's telling Steve off into the soft skin of his neck. When he feels the admonishment more than hears it.
"I'm not mean to Mike." He says on instinct, he does try not to be. "And he started it."
"Definitely think you started the Barbie thing, Sweetheart."
And well, yeah. "I Barbie all the kids equally."
Eddie hmms Steve can feel the vibration of it through his back and on his neck. Eddie is about to start something he better plan on finishing. "He asked Hop where he should get weed."
Oh. "I didn't think he'd actually do it!" And then, "Is that why he keeps flirting with you, revenge?"
"No, he's got a bunch of misplaced jealousy because Will and the girls think you're hot." He toys with the edge of Steve's shirt as he says it. Perpetually cold fingers brushing the clothes warmed skin beneath making him shiver.
"The girls don't think I'm hot."
He hums again, nips at the blush red skin at Steve's neck. "El used to, Max definitely has a taste for jock.
"That's not my fault, you let Mike play a bard." He wishes he didn't sound so desperate.
"Wanted to leave the Paladin spot open for you, baby."
"I'm starting to feel convinced, we could go upstairs and you could show me your character sheet."
The things he'll say to get laid.
"Don't think I can do that Stevie, smooth as a Ken doll down there. Could show you the actual character sheet though." 
His back is cold as Eddie pulls away, smirking unrepentant as he lets Steve have the tiniest taste of his own medicine.
"Barbie has a very active sex life, actually." He's never been one not to double down. "Let me show you the fun we can have without getting your dick out."
-
He does leave it alone for a little while, even though he really, really doesn't want to. But despite what his friends, his fifth grade report card, and his mom might think; Steve is capable of keeping a hold of his worst impulses when he wants to.
So he lets opportunity pass him by.
He makes no comment about Barbie when Eddie talks about how John Carpenter is a film auteur. Not even when Dustin tries to define auteur for him. Incorrectly, but Robin comes to Steve's defense.
Barbie goes unmentioned, barely when an argument breaks out about Nobel prize winners, of all things. He thinks the kids argue more now than they ever have like it's the only way they have to get their bloodlust out now that the Upside Down was closed. He was quickly boxed out of the conversation, even if Erica kept sending him little glances over everyone's heads. (She'd let him have Peace Prize Barbie a couple weeks ago and maybe he was a little obsessed.)
Holly wants to be a vet now, a singing vet who is also on TV, but mostly a vet. She tells him all about it while he waits for Mike to find his shoes? Definitely not his quarters for the arcade, the day any of them bring those is the day Steve brings the nail bat back out. He’s one impulse purchase away from getting one of those little coin dispenser belts that the employees have -- Gareth just quit, maybe he still had his? Mike's frown is a little less general annoyance at Steve and a little more confusion when he's finally ready to leave and Barbie has gone unmentioned.
He almost breaks again when Eddie starts talking about sports. Or he starts talking about NASCAR which is close enough for Eddie, he has a surprising taste for racing for someone who never wanted to put his van on the starting line at parties. A woman led a Busch Series race for the first time, what a year '86. He's got no opinion on Barbie's ability to drive at all.
He could let a joke go. He could be nice. It wasn't so out of character that it needed this kind of attention.
-
Mike has forgiven him by the time the next session rolls around. Delayed two weeks after Eddie screamed so loud on stage that he couldn't speak for two days, and then again for Jeff's emergency appendectomy. Eddie has stopped leaving pointed gaps in conversation for Steve to fill with mention of Barbie, he has had his thinking face on instead which is good for Steve about as often as it isn't.
He leaves it alone. A little bit of non-life threatening surprise is good for the soul, or something. Listen, he’s made it this far by only asking questions when shit is about to get really, really bad and Eddie’s thinking face has only resulted in something bad once or twice -- and they probably should have spent more than a couple minutes negotiating that particular kink anyway.
When the kids start showing up and nothing has come from the thinking face, he assumes it was just for them anyway. He settles in to see whatever shit Eddie is going to do.
"From the ditch you pull a human man, a paladin. His plate is dirtied by his time on the ground but clearly gleams in its typical state. He's handsome, a square jaw and fluffy brown hair-"
"Ugh is this Steve? You already made us do a quest for him," Mike complains, maybe he hasn’t completely forgiven Steve for that last interruption.
Steve has, by his own count been the inspiration for at least three NPCs for this campaign: a white light faction rogue, Sol, that the party had to rescue from the dungeons of the nightmare King after he was caught sneaking into the bedrooms of the prince -- like it was Steve's fault that Wayne had super hearing; a young fighter from the gladiatorial combat ring who helped the party rescue a group of kidnapped children that were going to be used as bait in the next round of fights; and the most obvious Prince Stefan who sent the party on a quest to kill his betrothed a Duke called Thomas the Boarish and rescue his knight Rowen and beloved Bard Edwin -- it's not like he could unkiss Tommy, and he could be a dick but boarish was dramatic. 
He was not this paladin, assuming Eddie was telling the truth about saving the Paladin he'd made for Steve.
"Cut the out of character chatter, Michael, before it starts counting in game. The Paladin before you is handsome in a bland, approachable, non-threatening way," Mike opens his mouth again, how is that not like Steve surely perched at the edge of his tongue and stopped in its tracks by elbows from Erica and Joey. "He introduces himself to his rescuer, Will the Wise, 'Thank you, kind sir, I would have been down there for ages before my lady noticed my absence. I am Sir Kenneth.'"
"What deity does he serve?" Will asks, something suspicious drawing across his face.
"Is there a holy symbol on his armor?" Gareth follows up. Gareth has been backing a lot of Will's plays lately, Steve thinks something might be going on there but he hasn't wanted to deal with Eddie teasing him for being a meddling matchmaker, again.
"There is no identifiable holy symbol on his clothes or armor." Eddie says, there's a mischief in his eyes, the way he tilts his head with quiet challenge and smiles.
"What God do you serve?" Erica asks, blunt and to the point. She gets cranky when her rogue doesn't have anything to stab.
"'The Lady in Pink,' he answers."
Any time Eddie reveals lore shit there's always a bunch of people talking over top of each other. It always turns into the kind of mass blob of shouting that Steve has a hard time parsing out, especially these days. Eddie somehow manages to distinguish not only people but the things they're saying and keeps his cool enough to keep the story going.
"Roll your insight, Gareth. Jeff, with a 15 history check, you have heard some whisperings from your homeland about a newly ascended goddess but not a name. Dustin, you're not getting shit with a 5 don't even try that but my back story says shit with me. Will, pretty sure that's a cleric spell but I'll let you have it he's a Neutral Good alignment. An 18, shit, yeah Garebear he does seem to be telling the truth that is the deity he follows; but that isn't the whole truth, you know a lot of the newer pantheon have a colloquial name and a true name."
"I'm sorry," Lucas says, "we aren't familiar with your lady. What can you tell us about her? Why would she leave you there? And that's a 14 on persuasion before you even ask."
"Why would I have asked that, Sinclair the elder? He has stars in his eyes when he speaks, 'before she ascended she was already limitless. A powerful warrior, an expert marksman, a mage beyond compare. Her power grew and grew until the only place left to explore was godhood.'"
"And what's her real name, if we wanted to spread the word?" Joey asks.
"'Oh she's everything. She's the lady in pink, she's the goddess with the golden mane, but before she ascended she favored one name I assume she has kept it.'"
"What is it?" Mike asks, perched at the edge of his seat.
"Oh no," Dustin whispers, a dawning horror on his face.
"'Barbara, though she preferred it shortened. Nicknames you call them," Steve sees the joke, knows where this is going a split second before reality breaks through the haze of fantasy for the players around the table. Eddie's smirking now, smile too pleased and too attractive. "'Y'know like Barbie?'"
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clownsheepartsies · 2 months
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I was feeling a little epic👉👈
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antlerx-art · 3 months
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Aziraphale and Crowley reminded Shakespeare of a certain couple
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Aziraphale: O Crowley, Crowley! Wherefore art thou Crowley? Deny thy father and refuse thy name Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be an angel Crowley [aside]: Shall I hear more? or shall I speak at this? Aziraphale: ‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thy self, though not a demon. O be some other name! What’s a demon? It’s nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, Not any part belonging to a being. What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. So Crowley would, were he not Crowley called, Retrain that dear kindness which he owes, without that title. Crowley, doff thy name; and for thy name, which is no part of thee, take all myself.
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beaulesbian · 1 year
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Trigun (1998) || ep. 10
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skitskatdacat63 · 6 months
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Fernando Chair Lore: 2013 edition(no lore, just pics haha):
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unmotivated-student · 4 months
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Why did you start watching the qsmp and why did you stay?
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ohitslen · 9 months
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They would be so insufferable once they got together I’m telling you right now
Request by @molten-rainbows!💖✨✨
Uni-fying the requests because.
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#worst double date ever when those guys keep getting denied access to many places for a second ride#for context! they aren’t the biggest fans of pda actually#they got lost inside the haunted house that also worked like a maze of the sorts. Meryl and Milly got out first and waited for them to#come out. but they never did. Meryl asked for security to look for them and they were caught in a place they shouldn’t be at#when asked abt the hickeys. they say they were hiding from someone who was chasing them. Vash covered WW mouth and he bit his palm#so Vash bit his hand in return. and bc they’re losers they kept going until things started to escalate and well#things ended up like that. and now they can’t get into the haunted house again.#Meryl considers not letting them be too far away from their line of sight because they are bastards separately and how together they are#somehow even worse. Milly won’t really interfere but would stop them if they start anything in public#which they wouldn’t. but they all know that would be a consequence#I cant for the love of me draw with at least a little bit of context behind it even if it’s just three panels OQJWK#without AA i make so many mistakes but whatever#trigun#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun stampede#vashwood#vash#wolfwood#nicholas trigun#trigun fanart#meryl stryfe#milly thompson#millymeryl#the girls finally OQNWM#lenssi draws#Trigun Uni! AU#take the color palette as a grain of salt I have zero consistency. also the style I guess
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marypsue · 5 months
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Because I am literally never not thinking about weird meta, blurring lines between reality and narrative, and the whole concept of actors becoming their characters, I am now entertaining thoughts of a Shadow of the Vampire-style story wherein a late-2010s-style all-female The Lost Boys remake gets derailed when the lead actress suddenly starts not showing up to shooting because she's sleeping all day...
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xraytheredx · 6 months
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It's been such a long time since I've fallen so hard for a project. All the work put into Welcome Home so far has been so vibrant and amazing, and things are just getting started! Of course I had to draw something for it! 😊💖 (Several somethings, to be more accurate! XD)
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weepylucifer · 1 year
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When i started disco elysium i thought, well, obviously Kim is normal and regular (I would later be proven wrong), so his clothes must be what regular cops wear in disco elysium world. But then we see other cops and they’re wearing like... black suits. Uniforms. And THEN it turns out that what Kim is actually doing is closet-cosplaying as a pilot of an airforce that doesn’t exist anymore. This is like if someone came to work in complete Civil War reenactment costume. Why does he do this? Because he just wants to i Guess
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thefiresofpompeii · 3 months
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the girl who waited (episode) is pure existential horror, tempered by the tragedy of the passage of time.
jaded amy. old amy, battle-worn amy, embittered amy, weathered amy. cold hardened unrecognising eyes. thirty six years. thirty six years in a containment facility alone. solitary confinement. facing grim reality with nothing but your wits, nothing but the faintest hope of some semi-mythical men from a distant past coming to rescue you, princess in the tower a second time. not this time. you forge weapons. you fight. you force yourself to forget. and then out of the blue, that bloody, bloody distinctive shade of blue, comes his voice, cheery as ever, spouting technobabble, cracking puns, all with that sickening babytalk – wibbly-wobbly bibbety bobbity boop. promised you a dream and gave you hell, hell, hell again, your beloved's death, your beloved's death, traps, paradoxes, a daughter, a daughter who was never there, a daughter who was never yours to raise, a childhood best friend that you'd never met, a life you never got to live. he dropped out of the sky and burnt up your world over and over and over, displaying something like a true exhilaration, something like amusement while he's doing it. and now when there's nothing left, no stars to explore (they're all flaming balls of dead matter) no planets to discover (they're crawling with dread and disease and pollution and war) his carefree tone cuts through the stillness announcing – we've come to save you, little girl. it's only been a blip for us, a glitch, an oopsie, locked on a bit too late, sorry rory.
these men brought you to purgatory and left you there. and now one of them's back (wearing the other's voice on his eyes, the omnipresent voice of your cruel god) your husband from the life before, unchanged, un-aged, same as you last saw him. you haven't been touched by another living soul in thirty six years and he's grabbing your arm.
who are these men, now strangers to you both, one frozen in youth, another ancient? here, the other one: on the screen, ever unchanging, ever friendly, that knowing gaze. they both promised you a universe, then allowed it to narrow to the size of a cage. you're not plastic like your dear "husband" had been all those millenia he spent "waiting". you're not a mysterious transtemporal entity. you're alive, you're human, so much more human than these aliens standing in front of you now, and you've felt every moment, every agonising moment, every hour, every year of your indefinite sentence. isolated. alone
that glowing gadget in your hand? it's a probe. sonic probe. because in a world with no wonder left, we refer to objects by their proper names.
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meepingpenguins · 4 months
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a spring for @halo-lll-odst . i think shes cool
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suja-janee · 2 months
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Given that bi han canonically has said “you turned Kuai Liang against me” he would no doubt say some edgy shit like
“YOU UNDERESTIMATE MY POWER”
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cinnamon-flame · 10 months
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My favorite wof girls that I neglected for a year, just in time for pride Starlight has a new ref because her last one sucked and I had to change it :
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