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eddiessluttywaist · 10 months

Text

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 7,488 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, fluff, swearing, blood (accidental cut), mentions of bullying, low self esteem, anxiety, mentions of embarrassment and shame, mentions of a history of bad relationships, smoking, car trouble (sorry if any of the car stuff isn’t accurate lmao). i think that’s it!

a/n: sorry for taking so long to update! i've been very busy. i hope you enjoy the new chapter! creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

“You what?” The man on the other line cackled in Eddie’s ear. “Ro- Robin! No, you gotta come here! Eddie called some chick a ‘good girl’. He totally scared her off, it’s hilarious.”

“Thank you, Harrington, you’re really helping me in my time of need,” Eddie seethed as he laid in bed. He heard some shuffling and then a familiar feminine voice sounded from the telephone.

“‘Good girl’? What is she? A dog?”

Eddie ran his hands over his face, jostling his bangs away from his forehead before suddenly jerking them away in gestures they couldn’t even see as he let out a bitter laugh.

“Why did I even call you two? I’m regretting so many choices today.”

“So, she didn’t like it?” Steve asked as Robin complained about him crowding the phone.

“Go use the one in the living room— no— stop-”

“This is my room. You go use the living room phone.”

“Ugh, you’re breathing on me, dingus!”

Eddie rolled his eyes over the typical bickering, choosing to focus on the question that actually had to do with their conversation.

“Uh — well — she got all freaked out and everything was awkward. When she was leaving, I was going to open the door for her and she thought I was going to hug her— I-I, ugh, it was horrible. So uhh… yeah, I’d say no. She didn’t like it… at… all.”

“You have zero game, man,” Steve chided after a beat of silence that had forced Eddie to sit with his shame.

“And neither do you.” Robin argued, finally waving him out of his own room. “Don’t listen to him, Eddie, he’s an idiot.”

“Thanks, Robin…,” he muttered even if it didn’t make him feel much better.

“You’re an idiot too, just so we’re clear,” she added, and he nodded despite the fact that — once again — she couldn’t even see him. “I can’t believe you called her a good girl.”

“Okay, how many times are we going to repeat it before I blow my brains out?” Eddie deflated with a distressed laugh, clasping his hands together. He heard another line pick up.

“What’d I miss?”

“Eddie wants to die.”

“I do not blame you, man. You know it’s never too late to come here in Indianapolis. Maybe even change your identity,” Steve suggested as he leaned up against the wall by his other phone, which he had nestled between his ear and his shoulder just like Eddie did.

“Yeah, cause I could afford living in the city,” he snickered mostly to himself before sighing as he ran his hands over his face again.

“Who is she anyway?” Robin wondered.

“She’s his weird, secret friend he’s kept from us,” Steve replied in a mutter.

“No, I- she’s not a secret and she’s not weird,” Eddie huffs. “She’s just… she hasn’t been around in a while. She’s a friend from before I moved in with Wayne.”

“Oh… oh,” Robin’s interest piqued again. “So, she’s like… a best-best friend?”

“He totally wants to nail her,” Steve tacked on, and Eddie found himself groaning as he sunk further into his bed, wishing it would swallow him whole.

“I don’t wan — will you quit it? Yes, we were very close.”

“And she just happened to show up out of nowhere. I’m telling you, Ed, she wants you. You should go for it. You haven’t been laid since Chrissy…,” Steve muttered that last comment, and Robin squeezed her eyes shut as she facepalmed.

“Or she could just need a friend…?” Robin countered, her voice weakly lilting upwards as she corrected him. She just hoped the Chrissy comment wouldn’t be enough to make Eddie draw back into himself.

“She knew you when you were kids. I’m sure you were just as weird as a little child Eddie, so I doubt she was all that fazed by you calling her uh… the thing you called her.”

“Maybe…,” Eddie muttered, picking at his nails and biting at them.

He was tired. That tea really did help, even if his exhaustion was put on hold by an absurd amount of embarrassment and anxiety. He could feel himself settling again, his eyelids getting heavier.

“I should go.”

Robin squeezed her eyes shut again and mentally chastised Steve for bringing up Chrissy so carelessly.

“Call us again. Okay, weirdo? To update us?” Robin urged, feeling a surge of protective instinct.

He was never around anymore, never called; and there was always this anxiety in the back of her mind that he wasn’t letting them know if things were getting too hard for him. Neither Steve nor she could figure out when they could check in on him because he never bothered to share his schedule with them. And when they did call it was incredibly rare for him to pick up. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to shut everyone out, but it only made her worry about what was going on with him.

“I don’t wanna bother you guys. I know you’re busy with city life,” Eddie teased with a playful theatricality to his tone, but his voice was soft with that creeping exhaustion.

“Nah, you know you can call whenever,” Steve replied, taking a break from his incessant joking to let some of his sincerity come through. “Plus, I gotta hear more about this secret girl.”

“Not a secret,” Eddie corrected, his eyes closing to soothe his urge to drift off, one brow raising lazily with his words.

“Just call, okay? Or we’ll keep bugging you until you update us,” Robin urged, a sing-song tone coming to her voice.

“Fine,” Eddie snickered, and this time he was actually able to get a goodbye in and sloppily slam his phone back down before knocking out.

There was only crackling now on the line between the two roommates.

“I worry about him,” Robin spoke up suddenly, just loud enough for Steve to catch her concerned voice.

“I know,” Steve sighed, placing the phone back onto the wall. “I do too.”

You had no intentions of ignoring Eddie after that night in his trailer, not explicitly anyways. You were still thinking about him constantly, but any pleasant thoughts were immediately invaded by embarrassment. It felt like you were experiencing it all over again and the accompanying swirl to your gut was overwhelming.

The reality of the next couple of Eddie-less days was that you were too engrossed in the aftereffects of that awkward exchange to reach out first, not to mention most of your attention going to your first job here in Hawkins. Despite your nerves, you did surprisingly well on Thursday and Friday night. Enough to get a small smile to bristle Ron’s bearded face and a mutter about maybe needing to get a new name tag ready. You were unbelievably cheery over the praise and acceptance, but you still had one more test to pass: weekend shifts. Those were their busiest, especially Saturday nights. If you make it from 4 o’clock to midnight with no major screw ups then you had the job. He promised.

So yes, you were actively avoiding being the first one to call, but to be fair you were also trying to attend to other aspects of your new life in Hawkins. Your focus was being diverted to getting this job, and spending time with Martha. You were distracted by moments of promising renewal in anticipation of the growing presence of Autumn — despite the crushing embarrassment of the other night.

That didn’t mean you weren’t thinking of him, though. If you weren’t shaking off the recent memory of Wednesday night, then you were indulging in the recent memory of Wednesday night. Him having you over; you making him tea; feeling close to him again as you exchanged stories — laughing together and smiling so hard the muscles in your cheeks hurt a little. The kind of pure smile you only got when you were with Eddie.

You thought about him as you styled your hair in a manner that helped to boost your confidence but wouldn’t get in your way during your shift. You couldn’t believe he had his own place, no matter how “shitty” he said it was. You couldn’t believe he was a tattooed mechanic and had hair. That was the real kicker for you. He didn’t have it shaved so close that he felt like a peach when you patted at the top of his head just to get on his nerves.

He had those long spirals that you wanted to reach across his small kitchen counter and swirl around your finger. Those curls inspired a habit of tilting his head to let his big brown eyes hide under his messy bangs; or sometimes he toyed with his curls to pull a chunk of it in front of his face. It was fascinating to see the way his features and behaviors have adapted to adulthood. Back home he was harassed daily for his “feminine” features, so the fluttery lashes and full lips were nothing new. But now he had grown into his generous mouth and his doe eyes, and so much of his youthful softness had made way for sharp definition — particularly in his jawline and cheekbones. He’s actually grown into the kind of person that intimidated you even if he was just Eddie. He made your palms sweat and had you thinking over every little thing you said. Y’know, things like Loo-ddie. You tried to reassure yourself that you only had nerves because you wanted to have him as a best friend again so badly, but some self-aware part of you knew the signs of an impending crush. Why couldn’t you have some self-control? Why did you have to gush over just about every man who showed you an ounce of kindness?

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you even had brief heart eyes for Ron after seeing how sweet he was with Sandy. It made you yearn for what they had, and you recognized it was more about wanting such a wholesome relationship of your own than wanting someone twice your age, but you still felt ashamed about it. What’s wrong with you? You needed to let bosses stay bosses, and you needed to let best friends stay best friends. You needed Eddie to be a friend, you needed to keep those boundaries in place so you couldn’t ruin everything like always. He’s special, and you can’t just throw yourself at him and offer to give him whatever he wants just so you could feel like his everything — even if it’s only for a few minutes.

You glance at your hands now and fight the urge to chip away at your freshly painted nails to appease your low spirits. You sit with these thoughts for a moment, swallowing moisture back into your throat that felt too tight; then you forced yourself away from the cramped motel bathroom to finish getting ready for your shift. You couldn’t let yourself slip up and distract yourself with your own misery — it was Saturday, and this was your final step towards success. A measly success of a server job at a small-town bar, but you had to put a positive spin on it.

You couldn’t focus on self-loathing, and you couldn’t focus on Eddie.

“A new girl?” Eddie groaned as he rolled his sleeves up to the bends of his elbows. “The last time we had a new person I had to watch him every fucking second cause he had no clue what he was doing — shit, he even stole from you, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Ron muttered bitterly, never happy about the reminder that someone had been sneaking cash out from under his nose. “She’s pretty good though. Real sweet and does her job.”

“I dunno… do we really need the help?”

“Kevin is back at school. We really need the help,” Ron chuckled, but felt a pang of sadness right to his chest knowing his youngest was back at college — or even in college in the first place — all the same. “Don’t be so sour. She’s a good kid.”

Eddie grumbled irritably but didn’t pester him any further. It was no use anyways. If Ron set his mind on something, then he wasn’t letting up. Sure, it made sense considering it’s his business, but he’s also stubborn as a bull and that quality had a history of surpassing logic sometimes.

About a quarter to four, Eddie was in the back when the bell rang.

“Well look at you, all nice and early again. You suckin’ up?” he heard Ron asking playfully, and Eddie rolled his eyes.

Great. A suck-up.

Just what he needed. Some goody two-shoes setting a new standard that he wouldn’t meet. He was lucky if he was on time in the first place with how much he slept in on the weekends, but Ron was always cutting him slack. Jus’ a small-town bar he’d say whenever Eddie scrambled into the building with an apology already slipping out at an incoherent pace.

He couldn’t hear the new girl’s reply, assuming it had been a nonverbal one rather than one so delicate and quiet that even Ron barely heard it before the novice made her way to the back.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve worked together yet and I just… wanted… to… Loogie…?”

At the sound of your voice, Eddie was already turning around from where he was opening the recent delivery. His perception of the moment seemed to have been placed in slow motion and suddenly he was heating up with flashbacks of Wednesday night. Called her a good girl, no joke, called her a good girl his mind droned on repeat just to torture him.

“Wha — hey,” he laughed casually and thankfully avoided choking on his own spit. He swallowed thickly and his brow furrowed as his voice came out painfully hoarse. “You’re the new girl?”

“Guess so. If I do well tonight,” you murmured with a small smile, toying with your hands.

You had painted your fingernails a rich burgundy, and his eyes zeroed in on the small strokes of color before looking up at you again.

“I’m sure you’ll be okay, Ron seems really impressed with you…” Eddie offered with a light laugh after clearing his throat, suddenly feeling sheepish around you again.

“Don’t go tellin’ her that! I don’t want her thinking she doesn’t have to work hard tonight!” Ron shouted from the front, pulling a snicker out of you.

You swiftly place your purse on a hook before continuing the conversation. Even if it wasn’t the end of the world if Ron heard your conversation, you took a few steps closer to Eddie and lowered your voice a touch.

“So… did the tea help at all…?” you ask, risking a mention of Wednesday night. You lifted one sneakered foot up onto your toes and shifted nervously before settling it back down as you waited on his reply.

Eddie’s lips pushed out in thought as he brought his attention back to the delivery of nuts and pretzels (really, he was looking for an excuse to not have to look at you as he thought of that night).

“Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks — really helped,” he offered a partial smile as his eyes flitted over to you before turning down again just a fast.

You press your lips together in a weak smile of your own and nod but fall silent. Instead of giving into your urge to pick at your polish, you run the pads of your fingers over the smooth surface of your nails instead.

“‘m sorry for that hug,” you finally blurt out with an uneasy laugh. “I just- I really thought that was why you were reaching over, and I didn’t want to be rude so-”

Eddie’s eyes widened and finally removed himself from his suddenly oh-so-interesting task.

“No no no, you don’t have to apologize,” he promised as he stretched back to his full height. “I should’ve been offering anyw- ah, shit.”

Eddie hissed as he glanced down at his hand. While replying with a fervent need to reassure you, he had thoughtlessly grabbed at the wrong end of the box cutter and sliced the pad of his thumb.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you rush over to him, instinctively cradling his hand with your own.

“Just a surface cut. Really.” Eddie chuckled. He really needed to go run it under cool water and bandage it, but he wasn’t ready to separate from you.

“What’s going on back there?” Ron questioned from the bar.

“Eddie cut his finger!” you replied as Eddie insisted “Nothing!” simultaneously.

Ron grumbled on his way to his back room that he had turned into a part kitchen, part break room, part delivery storage room. Surely there was some kind of code being broken there, but who cared? Clearly no one around Hawkins.

He eyed the way you two were situated but didn’t think much of it since you were probably just having a natural reaction to someone getting hurt.

“I swear…” he grumbled under his breath on his way over.

“You need to pay attention before you really hurt yourself one of these days,” Ron muttered, and grabbed Eddie’s wrist far harsher than when you reached out for him. “Aren’t you a mechanic? Don’t you know to watch where your hands are, kid?”

You cringed when he wiped at the spot with a rough napkin that sounded like it might as well have been sandpaper against the cut, then grunted.

“It’s fine. Just a bleeder,” he states with all the confidence of a certified physician and ruggedness of an old trucker before tugging up his jeans further into his partial beer gut and walking back out. “You know where the first aid kit is!”

“More than anyone,” Eddie added with a half grin to compliment his self-deprecation as he tilted his head, breathing out a soft laugh.

“Still accident prone, huh?” you ask with a slight scrunch to your nose and a lift to the corners of your lips, watching him head farther back in the multi-faceted room to the employee bathroom.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” He tilted back out of the room to offer you a cheeky grin, his hair jostling with the motion and then again when he flicked his head to get it out of his face.

“Oh, I dunno… Coulda learned your lesson after face planting into gravel,” you offer with an innocent tone, taking a moment to clock in before sauntering over.

“Well considering that happened several times, you should know better than to assume I’d ever learn,” he whispered playfully, grinning over at you.

“Guess so,” you snort, leaning into the doorframe.

“Had to rough this face up, y’know? Really dedicate myself to becoming a man,” Eddie used a deeper, rougher tone of voice and puffed his chest out as he held a paper towel to his thumb.

“It’s a shame it didn’t work,” you pouted before laughing at the hurt look he donned.

“You wound me, truly,” he moved his good hand to his chest.

“Not as often as you do, apparently,”

“Touché, touché,” he sighed, unclasping the first aid kit and flipping it open. “You’re still a lil shit, y’know that?”

“Can’t help it. Haven’t had anyone to banter with in years,” your head settled against the wood of the doorframe and his own tilted to the side as he regarded you. That smirk of his toyed on his lips as he considered your words.

He’s about to reply — surely with some cheeky remark about you needing him — but Ron was calling before he got the chance.

“Make sure you’re wearing gloves today,” Ron muttered to Eddie without lifting his attention from whatever he was writing down.

“You never wear gloves,” Eddie countered with a childish huff. “Only rich-ass bars in the city give a shit about that crap.”

“Yeah, well I ain’t a health hazard,” he snickered, finally raising his gaze to point his pencil at Eddie’s bandaged finger. “Gloves. Now.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but pulled gloves from the box under the countertop anyways. You’re on the other side of the bar, sitting on a stool and a smile pulling at your lips. Elbows on the countertop and chin balancing on your fists, you watch him intently with little giggles sneaking out.

“Don’t encourage him,” Ron pleads gruffly at the sound of you laughing over Eddie making a big show of pulling out the gloves and slipping them onto his hands.

Once he let each glove snap into place at his wrists, Eddie outstretched his arms and displayed his new accessory.

“Eh? Nice, right? Definitely won’t make everything I touch taste like latex,” Eddie nudged his boss who gave him a less than pleased look, but you were sure he was muffling his own amusement.

“Wanna learn how to bartend?” Ron asks you now. “I think there’ll be an opening soon.”

At that, Eddie leans back with a belly laugh, his dimples sinking into his cheeks.

You had unfortunately started your shift with the assumption that they had been messing with you when Ron and Sandy warned you about Saturday nights. When you arrived just before 4 o’clock there was nearly no one there besides the occasional regular; then twenty minutes past 5 o’clock came along and you were blasted back to Sunday mornings at the diner. The place was packed full of people all chummy with one another, which was charming until they were several drinks in and decided they knew you just as well.

Not all of them, but enough of them were flirting with you at every opportunity; and you were forced to use your customer service manners to deal with them. So many fake smiles were starting to make your cheeks ache.

Returning to the back with an empty tray, you rub at the muscles in one cheek with your free hand. You almost forgot how much service work meant forcing a pleasant attitude and dealing with aching feet. God, that was killing you more than anything. When you were leaving the motel, your trusty sneakers were like walking on clouds. Now, you were certain you had been stomping around on needles.

The music didn’t exactly help with your shift either while trying to hear requests and reply, especially since you weren’t one to use a loud tone. Ron insisted on live music whenever he could get it and you understood the appeal, but the band playing tonight apparently didn’t know how to have a respectable volume set for performing indoors.

You could handle it and you knew you’d form a routine with the locals that rushed in on the weekends and you’d learn how to cope with deafening musicians — you just needed to adjust to your new job.

What you couldn’t handle, as you were quickly learning, was seeing Eddie bartend. It was such a simple act, and yet it left you slack jawed while trying to stay focused on dishing out the drinks he prepared to the right people.

Something about the gloved hands and the rolled-up sleeves as he moved around the bar with such ease left you in the shadow of a crush looming overhead again. His chain bracelet and that familiar beaded bracelet were stacked on one wrist; he even had a few faded tattoos you caught glimpses of in the dim lighting. Not to mention the moving musculature in his strong forearms as he poured and served and wiped with a sort of sloppy expertise. You noticed there wasn’t a lot of mixing around here just like back home. Just a whole lot of small-town people looking for simple alcohol. The older ones seemed partial to a basic glass of whiskey or beer; and the younger ones all hopped up on the fact that they could finally drink legally were requesting shots.

Eddie had tied his hair back in a low bun with the occasional curl rebelling and framing his face that seemed to only be smiling or thinly veiling irritation whenever a mean drunk bitched about him not pouring enough. Either way it truly was something to behold.

As much as his looks should’ve been a passing thought, considering your place as an old friend, they insisted on lingering. You were still adjusting to knowing him this way and the odd disposition between knowing him like no one else and not knowing him at all continued to present a disorienting mix of feelings. The possibility of such complications never occurred to you when you became dead set on coming here, and you hated that you didn’t see it coming or brace yourself for it. Now you were stumbling through moving here for a childhood best friend and winding up finding a man in his place.

Then, of course, your thoughts circled back to your history with men. Don’t go there, don’t go there.

You let out a small sigh and checked the clock. 11:11. So close. So, so close. Before you knew it, it would be time to leave. Glancing at your notepad, you go over what that guy in the sweat stained sports tee asked for his cheap nachos. Extra jalapeños. He insisted on extra jalapeños and went into way too much detail of how “he’d be paying for it in the morning, but they’re just so damn good.”

“Having fun?” Eddie asked after his plodding jog to the back.

“Oh, you bet. An absolute blast,” you laughed, pouring the molten cheese over the thin tortilla chips. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Break,” Eddie answered simply as he flopped down in a chair in the small corner of the space dedicated to the employees. “Ron and Sandy got the bar for now.”

“Ahh,” you hum, spooning the jalapeños on top of the mountain of ingredients.

“Y’know, you’re pretty good at the whole bartending thing. It’s actually kinda cool,” you admitted, glancing over your shoulder to smile over at him.

“I just pour alcohol for the local drunks, but thanks,” Eddie laughed diffidently over the compliment, sliding his metal lunch box closer to get to his baggie of pretzels.

“Is that your dinner?” You ask now, fighting to keep the conversation alive. You’d take talking about pretzels over a lull in conversation.

“Oh uh--” he glanced down at the bag. “I might make something when I get home if I have enough energy.”

“You better. Or I’ll be forced to come over again. Pretzels aren’t dinner.”

“Oh, I see,” Eddie grinned. “Then you can come over and I can make a fool of myself again.”

“It’s okay, I’ll do it too. It’ll balance everything out,” you offered, placing the hot plate on your tray.

“Oh, well there we go. Long as we’re both fools, then it should be okay,” he agreed with feigned seriousness to your proposal then let his smile curl up his lips again.

“Of course,” you matched his endearing expression. “We’re always fools.”

“Always fools…” he tested aloud while leaning back to teeter the metal foldout chair back and forth.

“I concur, Critter.”

“They’re awfully chummy, hm?” Sandy whispered to Ron as she watched you two interact while cleaning up for the night.

“Yeah. I hate it,” Ron grumbled out, scrubbing at a stain. “He better not scare her off. She’s a good waitress.”

“Don’t be like that,” Sandy sighed, nudging her hip into his. “I think it’s sweet. And he’s a good kid, I don’t see him hurting her — let alone enough to cost us an employee.”

“So, we’re definitely keeping her ‘round?”

“Yes, we settled on that this morning — would you quit avoiding the topic?” She urged and Ron groaned as he stretched his back.

“It’s alright, I guess. Jus’ don’t want any drama around here. Too old for it.”

“So, I didn’t scare you off?” Eddie asked as you cleaned off tables together.

“Scare me off?” you repeated, glancing over at him. “Why’d you say that?”

Eddie eyed you through his lashes then looked back down at the same spot he’s wiped down probably six times now.

“Well, you brought up coming over again,” he let out a soft chuckle. “So, I’m guessing I wasn’t that much of an idiot on Wednesday?”

“Oh psh — please,” you laughed it off, standing up straighter after swiping the rag over the tabletop one more time. “If anything, I was being stupid.”

“Oh, I wasn’t saying you weren’t being stupid,” Eddie joked with that obnoxiously gorgeous grin, finally separating from that same table he kept cleaning. He sauntered over to you, his amusement and proximity warming you as he looked down at you. “Just that I was also stupid.”

“I’d say you were especially stupid, but I was trying to be nice,” you shot back in a dulcet tone, grinning up at him.

“Be nice?” Eddie repeated with a huff of disbelief, grinning when that earned him a jab to his side. “Gone soft on me, Critter? Not the same girl that’ll throw a remote at my head?”

“I only did that if you were particularly annoying while I was trying to watch TV,” you laughed, nudging his chest to just barely make him stumble back. Not that it discouraged that man who only smiled brighter.

“Well then, I guess I have an excuse for being such an idiot all the time. You really knocked something loose all those times you hit me with that remote.”

“Sure, it was me that knocked something loose,” you teased in a giggle, making your way over to the last couple of tables. Your laughter only builds up at the face he gives you — both playfully hurt and encouraged to get you back.

Within seconds you noticed the way he started to twist up his rag, and you were squealing and rushing away from him. Eddie chased after you and whipped at you with the towel whenever he got the chance, occasionally jamming his hip into a table or a chair with a breathy “Oof.” Amongst your squeaks of empty fear, you were still cackling and tried to get him back with your own towel.

“Children!” Ron suddenly announced, and you two slowed down to a stop — still breathless and giggly. “I’m old and would like to go to sleep. Maybe finish cleaning before flirting?”

Sandy gave him a look that could kill for that, then followed Eddie’s example and whipped at his behind with a rag.

Both of your faces flushed at the accusation, but thankfully weren’t forced to sit with the embarrassment of being called out by Ron. Instead, all your attention went to cackling over Ron’s tired reaction to his wife snapping a towel at his ass.

He looked genuinely angry for a moment, and then he was clearing his throat and wiping the bar cleaner off his hands and twisting up his own towel.

“Nope — no — Ron,” Sandy started with a warning tone, but she was already laughing, slowly backing away.

“Gotta play fair,” Ron pointed out and whipped at her thigh. That was enough to send Sandy squealing and Ron chased after her to the back room while the two of you leaned into your laughter.

You’d do anything for a love like that.

“Still not a fan of pretzels for dinner?” Eddie chanced a glance over at you with a lazy, half grin as he toyed with his keys and walked you over to your car.

“Definitely not a fan of pretzels for dinner,” you answered, laughing under your breath and nudging his hip with your own.

“It’s a shame cause y’know,” Eddie yawned dramatically as he stretched out his arms and then flopped into the side of your car. “I’m real tired. If someone doesn’t follow through with their offer, that’s for sure all I’ll be having.”

You tilted your head, feeling that post-customer service ache to your cheeks as you fought the urge to smile at this absolute idiot leaning against your car. His elbow was propped up on the roof, his fist supporting his head and squishing his cheek.

“I don’t know if I have the energy to cook right now,” you sighed, doing your best to match his drama. “But you know what?”

“What, Critter?” He hummed, shoving himself away from the car to move a few stray hairs from your face and in that moment, you might as well have melted into the cracked and sun-bleached pavement. “I’m invested. Do go on.”

“I can buy us fast food,” you whispered to provide a surreptitious air to burgers and fries. Screw it. You’ve been good about eating real food. Maybe it was time to associate these meals with something positive for once. Whatever excused your addiction to excessive oil and salt.

“Ah, much better than pretzels,” he laughed, shoving one of his hands into his jacket pocket. “I’d be honored.”

“Just like old times,” him being closer to you to move some hair out of your face encouraged you to toy with one of the pins on his coat. A soft breeze swirled through the parking lot, and you were both reminded of how stuffy and smoke-filled work had been as you breathed the fresh air in. You caught the scent of a distant bonfire, but it was nothing like the cloud of tobacco back in The Hideout. The chill of the air combined with the musk of a faraway fire spoke of Fall, sweetening your already pleasant mood.

“Remember that time we got large pizzas for both of us on movie night?”

“Yeah,” Eddie let out a soft laugh. “You threw up on the carpet.”

“Yeah, and you got in trouble for using your dad’s credit card,” you add a small giggle of your own, just for your heart to sink at the shift in his expression. You shuffled in your spot.

“Sorry… I probably shouldn’t… I shouldn’t keep bringing him up,” you muttered, dropping your hand away from his W.A.S.P. pin.

“No — no, no it’s okay really,” Eddie was quick to reassure you, but your mood was still steadily spoiling and dragging the pit of your stomach down with it at even a glimpse of him being bothered by you. Upset, angry, annoyed, fed up — whatever it was. You were certainly paying the cost of your penchant for nostalgia, and even the aroma of an early October night couldn’t save you.

“I like talking about when we were kids,” he added in a hushed tone that eased your spiral a touch. You glanced up at him through your lashes. “Really. I do. Makes me feel… ah, I don’t know.”

He admitted that last comment with a huff. It was filtered through amusement over his inability to speak before he rolled his lower lip inward in thought. Both of his hands were shoved in his pockets now and he swayed in his spot while kicking a piece of gravel forward. He finally released his lower lip again which was left with a slight sheen to it now, and he settled on a shrug of defeat. He couldn’t think of what he wanted to say.

You stared at him, this impromptu moment of softness burning through you in a way you weren’t expecting. Just as he couldn’t understand exactly why he enjoyed discussing his childhood as long as it was with you — you couldn’t understand the sudden pang of nausea that came from hanging onto his words and just to drop down over a noncommittal shrug. Your anxiety barreled into you in a sudden flash, leaving you somewhere in between the pain and the comfort of clinging to the past with him.

“Makes me feel cared about, I guess. Especially since we haven’t been friends in a while,” he finally concluded. “You don’t have to remember any of that stuff, but you do… it’s nice.”

“We’re always friends,” you insisted with a small smile, doing your best to not let everything fall apart over that once brief change of expression especially since things were looking up again.

“Yeahhh, you’re alright…,” Eddie murmured. “I guess I’ll keep you.”

“Oh, how generous of you,” you snort, attempting to move him to the side so you can get to your car, just for him to reach out a hand to settle on your upper arm. He gently urged you to turn around as he pushed himself off your car again.

“C’mon, I’ll drive. I don’t trust that thing,” Eddie insisted as he kept a careful hold on your elbow while guiding you towards his van.

“What?” you question, looking back at your lonely car. “I’ve had her forever, she’s perfectly safe… I can’t just leave her here.”

“Your brake pads are shit.”

“What?” you ask again with a slight pout and furrowed brows.

“When you visited me the other day,” he started with a light laugh to buffer his confession. “Your car sounded like it was screaming when you were parking.”

You reached his van that had aged gracefully over the years with a mechanic at its beck and call. Eddie unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for you, but you couldn’t stop looking at your car.

“She’s just tired s’all,” you frown, feeling guilty over abandoning an inanimate object no matter how silly it felt.

“She’s just gonna kill you if you don’t replace your brake pads s’all,” Eddie leaned into you with his mocking whisper. Your sad glance up at him is enough to make his playful expression falter. His heavy and dramatic exhale already pulls a smile back onto your face, knowing he was caving in some way or another.

“I’ll bring ‘er to Thach’s and replace them for you,”

“Thank you, Loogie,” you swooned, and he rolled his eyes over your excessively cooing tone.

You were lucky to have favoritism on your side.

“Give it to me straight, doc. Will she make it?”

Eddie glanced over at you with a faux glare.

“How many times are you going to ask me that?”

“I dunno, how many times are you going to squint at me instead of answering?”

“You know I’m doing this for free right? After hours? After already working my second job all night?”

“Ooo, you sound like such an adult,” you squeeze your shoulders up to your ears with a grin, a brown bag stocked with artery-clogging goodness on your lap. He shook his head at you, looking away again to hide his poorly masked amusement. He could say all he wanted about doing this for free, but you could still give him a hard time. He was getting paid whether he wanted it or not. Even if he didn't accept it from you personally, you'd at least leave cash at the front desk and ask the nice receptionist to give it to him.

“Alright, c’mere,” he waved you over eventually. You perked up, moving out of the hard plastic chair in the garage where you left the fast food in your place. “And can you bring that display over? On the table?”

Nodding, you snatched it on your way over to Eddie and kneel beside him.

“Okay so,” he started off with a sigh. Not a great sign.

“Best case scenario, your brake pads look like this,” a greasy index finger points to one of the pads on display before moving to the one next to it. “This is how they’d look with a more moderate amount of wear to them – not great and you'll want to replace them, and then this is how they look when you need to get them replaced ASAP.”

“And this is your brain on drugs,” you chimed in with the theme, before shrinking under the look he gave you.

“Sorry,” you murmured, even though he broke and smiled over your bad joke.

You returned to observing the gradual decline in buffers on the display and shrug a bit.

“Okay, so what about Sherry?”

Eddie groaned as he leaned back to grab the discarded piece of metal and held it up to show you. It looked like a flat, grimy cracker in comparison to the examples on the display.

“They’re practically just the backing plates at this point, I don’t know how you’re not dead,” the piece clinked against the cement floor when he dropped it back down. “How long have they been squealing?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed and he became visibly pained by the way you had to think about it. It wasn’t coming from a patronizing, “how can you be so dumb” kind of place, but rather it stemmed from the anxiety of knowing you were driving around like this.

“I dunno… I noticed a while ago, so I just played my music louder,” you shrugged, and Eddie snorted amidst his distress. He sat up more to lean his back on Sherry. “But then I had to start stomping on the brakes way before I usually would to stop in time.”

“Yeah, that’s generally not a great sign,” he snickered as you started to.

“I’m so sorry, Sherry…” you frowned despite your previous giggling, raising a hand to caress one of her doors. Eddie lifted himself up off the ground with a grunt, heading over to a sink to wash his hands. You crane your neck to follow him, dropping your hand down from your car and start playing with the creeper, rolling it back and forth.

“So, she’ll get some new brake pads and she’ll be as good as new?”

“Well, I don’t want to just replace those, I’ll check out the whole braking system,” Eddie turned to face you completely, wiping the remaining water and suds off his hands. He grabbed the bag you left on the seat and made his way back to you.

“How’d you learn all this stuff?” you asked, thanking him as he handed you your burger before taking a monstrous bite out of his own.

“Uh, my uncle taught me,” he said around his food, sucking a bit of ketchup off the side of his thumb. You noticed the sad glance down to the floor, so you backed off. You didn’t need another moment like earlier when you brought up his dad again.

“I just can’t get over the fact that you’re a grown up…” you murmured to yourself, looking down at your meal. Eddie eyed you as he kept chomping away at his food. The horrid sound that you’ve always despised motivated you to look up at him again, and laughter bloomed from your chest at the sight of the mess around his mouth. His chewing slowed as he blinked his big eyes at you. Gulp.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“You still eat like an obnoxious kid,” you teased, kicking a foot out to nudge him and pull multiple napkins out of the bag for him.

He simply shrugged in response with a cheeky grin, accepting the napkins that he unceremoniously smeared over his lips.

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to be here,” he raised his hands up in defense now, chuckling to himself.

“Yeah, I am…” you murmured, leaning your head back against Sherry as a fond smile formed on your lips while you watched him start to dig through the bag for any stray fries to add to his container. He shoved most of them right into his mouth before glancing at you again.

“What?”

“Nothing… just happy to have my best friend back,” you murmured, and he silently melted at the sincerity. God, did he feel lucky for once.

You take a beat before outstretching your arm to present him with your downturned hand with just your pinky out. Eddie recognized the old gesture and wiped his hand on his pants, despite the napkins at his disposal, before reaching his own hand out. Interlocking pinkies was of course typical of some childish pact which the two of you did plenty of times as kids, but sometimes you sought this out simply for a moment of comfort. It made you feel held and even as kids, Eddie had the emotional maturity to understand how lonely you felt because of your family. So, when you needed someone to hold your pinky, he was there. The only difference was now his pinky was closer to the width of your thumb and nearly swallowed your pinky whole when he wrapped it around yours. Just another adjustment to Eddie being an adult, which left an unlaughed snicker in your chest at the realization, but it comforted you all the same.

And this night in a dingy old garage after a long shift was easily the best night you’d had in years.

taglist: @mystars123 @h-ness1944 @ohmeg @milkymil-k @eddiesprincess86 @stopbeingcurious @corrodedcoffincumslut @sidthedollface2 @spoonflix @madaboutjoe @fckyeahlames @corrcdedcoffin @damon-loves-pie @bebe07011 @eponaartemisa @aysheashea

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson series #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #mechanic!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie #bartender!eddie munson #bartender!eddie #slow burn eddie munson #eddie munson slow burn #eddie munson x reader #bsf!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem reader #desiderium series #desiderium eddiessluttywaist

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monstersinthecosmos · 1 month

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I'm so glad you're back!! I was so panicked when I saw your blog was gone, because you are truly one of the absolute stars of VC fandom!!

I joined VCblr a few months ago because I have been obsessed with Marius since I was 13, like my Marius obsession literally changed my life in multiple ways and I saw VC was becoming popular again so I wanted to join in! but like one of my first posts got these comments from people I'd never even spoken to before about how I was disrespecting Marius and his fans, and to be a little dramatic the way some of these comments were written, I felt like some of them seemed to actually really hate me personally. It just killed my desire to write fic or meta anymore so I just deleted my tumblr and now I just have an empty one so I can lurk on people. Like I have really limited time and energy for fandom, and I don't want to spend it writing stuff that people just hate seeing and making them feel bad, and then feeling bad myself for liking the stuff I like.

Anyway, I found your blog a little while ago and I am OBSESSED with your creativity and your perspective on like everything, so I'm sorry to be a weird rambling anon but basically I'm just trying to say your blog has made a difference to how I feel about my own freaky way of loving Marius and I just love your openness and acceptance and your ABSOLUTELY FLAWLESS A++ MARIUS TAKES and you genuinely have improved my VC experience 100% and I'm glad you haven't been erased from existence.

ugh see this is what I mean dude!! I'm so sorry to hear you had that experience!!!!!! Please talk to me off anon any time, I'd love to see your posts if you wanna come back and share again!

I BRING THIS UP NOW AND THEN so I'm sorry if I'm like a rambling old man telling the same story 400 times, but, now and then I think it bears repeating. But like, when I was 13, a boy at my school bashed my head open on a locker (I had to go to the hospital and get my head stapled shut) and he punched me in the face so hard that I have permanent ligament damage in my jaw. And it was because I was like, a baby bat and I was into numetal and Wicca and I was like the only kid in my small town school who didn't go to church. The day it happened I was wearing a Korn shirt!!! And I had blue hair! And I'd been like very intensely bullied my whole time in middle school, and the adults in my life NEVER protected me. This was RIGHT after Columbine and people were still buying into the propaganda that the killers were bullied goth kids and not fucking neo-nazis, so like, the entire time I was getting violently harassed, every day!, no one protected ME because they thought I would turn out to be the violent one. And yet, I was being put on hit lists. I had a gun pointed at me. A boy one time stole my Wicca book out of my backpack and read it to the class to make fun of me, but *I'm* the one who got in trouble for it because they thought I wanted to cast spells & curses on my classmates. The boy who assaulted me was a KNOWN problem in our school, and I wasn't even the first girl he hurt! MEANWHILE I still got a week of detention for having my head bashed open because they said I started the fight. ((This is up for debate: Yes I actually did throw the first punch LMFAO but he HAD been teasing me incessantly for like ever so like come the fuck on. I deserved that one.))

idk why I was just born like, without any shame or something, I guess it's innate, the rebel streak, I can't explain, but none of this really hurt my feelings? Every time people would make fun of me I was thinking "Yeah but I love Korn and they're so COOL and if you're making fun of me that means you're NOT cool and I don't really value anything you have to say????" And that really sustained me through all of this.

So yatta yatta terfs & conservatives poisoned the fandom well on Tumblr and I always think that it's not so different -- being picked on because you like something weird & offputting or whatever, and being treated like a threat or a danger when you're the one who's vulnerable to harassment and violence. In the digital space on Tumblr it's going to be about like kinky stuff and villainfucking and IRL it was because I was the only goth at my school and I liked horror films. It's the same shit, being harassed because of the fiction you like and the media you consume. And on Tumblr it's people being absolute fucking dickheads and IRL it was me being put in the hospital because a guy put his fucking hands on me, he was that upset that I was into cool shit.

And just. Yknow. It does suck when you want fandom to be a chillout space and you get your feelings hurt. It fucking SUCKS when people show up here specifically to be unkind to others, like I can't think of a less productive use of time. But part of me always thinks "I didn't get my head stapled shut for some grassless little fucking weasel on tunglr dot com to shame me over vampire porn" lmao.

(As an aside if you ever want to look into other examples of people being IRL fucked over over STUFF THEY LIKE, google the West Memphis Three ((innocent metalheads who did 20 years on death row because people thought the weird metal boys MUST be murderers)) or the FBI trying to file Juggalos as a GANG which means anyone who had an ICP phase and got a Hatchetman tattoo as an 18 year old is now in jeopardy of losing their fucking children for affiliating with a gang, okay. And this isn't even to scratch the surface of the way people treat hip hop and way it's mired in racism. Censorship and thought policing are always going to come down to Christofascism and white supremacy, but I digress.)

So blah blah all that to say, I'm not going anywhere and it pisses me the fuck off that people can't keep this bullshit to their private group chats. I have NO idea what anyone gains by acting like this in public.

Like, yeah yeah, fandom is silly, whatever, but hobbies are legit! And we deserve a space to unwind that isn't ruined by capitalism and bigotry and just, some little space to land. ESPECIALLY when, let's be real!, it's very very very common for fandom folks to be neurodivergent. I mean why else would we be so obsessed and blorbo-sick lol. So like, it just feels extra fucking shitty of people to be rude to fans like that, to make you feel shame for the thing that excites you.

Fandoms SELF GENERATE. Someone has to be here posting shit and we have to interact with it and create community. And genuinely if all you can contribute is your horseshit attitude, you can go fuck yourself!!! And I can't begin to tell you how much it breaks my heart when I see this infighting in one fandom, because like, being a Marius fan - BELIEVE ME - when I tell you I've done my time as persona non grata, the antis have fucking come for me LMFAO, I'm on the blocklists, I've been accused of absolutely heinous bullshit for liking a stupid fake vampire character. Like, listen!

I've had my head bashed open on a locker for liking numetal! You're not going to chase me off Tumblr!!!!!!

Anyway this got away from me, idk what I'm trying to say, I'm saying that I'm so sorry you had a bad experience and I hope you come back some time! And I encourage everyone to block & curate your space as needed to make for a happy escape zone. EVEN BLOCKING ME, I KNOW I GET ON PEOPLES NERVES SOMETIMES. And my content isn't for everyone! It's fine! Stay safe please, and I love you, and I have your fucking back dude!!!

AND EVERYONE ELSE JUST, HOLY SHIT BE NICE TO PEOPLE. IT COSTS $0 TO BE FUCKING NICE TO PEOPLE. IF YOU'RE NOT BEING CREATIVE YOU'RE BEING DESTRUCTIVE!

#fandom lolitics

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twistnet · 1 year

Text

do not touch [ stephen strange ]

⋯ KINKTOBER PROMPT ; day 25 [ sex pollen ]

⋯ WARNINGS ; gn!reader, smut [ sex pollen -- from a weird artifact, oral sex -- gn terms used rough sex, multiple orgasms, cum ] + mature language

⋯ NOTE ; this content is strictly for those 18+ ; any minors // ageless // blank blogs interacting with this post // masterlist will be blocked

there were many things in the sanctum that were simply off-limits. that’s what Stephen had told you when you had first come to live with him. and while you were free to roam around the sanctum and no real room was off-limits, he had told you not to touch anything as he was still learning what everything did.

you had been constantly reminded of this rule during your first month of your living there, but stephen had stepped back after awhile and nothing had been mentioned since.

your regular routine was to make a cup of tea, and walk around the sanctum to enjoy the peace and quiet as stephen worked in the other room. you had made it up to the floor that housed a lot of the older artifacts that had been collected over centuries.

and while you were usually very careful, it seemed that it wasn’t in your favor today. starting with how the pocket of your knit pants had managed to catch the edge of one of the tables, jerking you back and causing the table to shake harshly. in turn, sending a few items to the ground with a loud crash.

you had cursed loudly, dropping your mug to the edge of the time before dropping to the ground in a mad scramble to gather up the broken pieces of the artifacts. there was the vague sound of stephen’s voice trailing up the stairs as he questioned on what had happened. followed seconds later with scrambling feet as he made his way upstairs.

“i thought i told you not to touch.” his voice sounded from the doorway, and you could hear the annoyance lacing his tone, “what broke?”

“firstly, i didn’t touch anything. my pocket caught the edge of the table and sent things flying. and secondly, it just looks like some old vase with some powder in it is the only thing that managed to brake into a million pieces.” you state, glaring up at him as you attempted to scrape the powder back into the broke pieces of vase -- as if somehow it was going to make the situation any better.

stephen sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “just... leave it. i’ll clean it up. why don’t you pick a book and find some other place to occupy yourself? for my sanity, please?” he picks up on the discontented sigh, but shoots you a kind smile as you pass him towards the library.

you had done as told, finding a slightly interesting book and settling yourself into one of the large armchairs that littered the room. and slowly, you began flipping through the pages. only getting through the first chapter when Stephen entered the library with an almost frightened expression, “did you touch the powder that was in that vase?!”

“uh... yes?!” you exclaim, worried now about why he was worrying so heavy about some artifact and then an odd feeling settled into your stomach as you slowly realized that you probably were playing with some ashes of an old sorcerer, “was it someone’s ashes?”

stephen scoffs, shaking his head, “no! it’s not that! did any of the powder get on your hands? face?” he questions, looking at you with wild eyes as you shrug, “i don’t know! i was just trying to clean it up! what’s the big deal anyway?!”

the only answer you get is a heavy sigh, and with a wave of his hands, books begin flying from their spots and spinning around the sorcerer as he begins to scan different texts, “stephen, you’re scaring me. what’s going on?”

“i believe the artifact you broke was used as an ancient aphrodisiac. the only thing is, i can’t decipher what effects it is going to have on you. have you... experienced anything different?”

“no, i feel fine.” stephen nods, humming to himself as he continues to scan the texts in front of him, “if anything changes, let me know immediately. i could try to compare any symptoms you feel to the ones listed through out this book and see if we can’t fix it from there.”

you nod softly, settling back into the armchair with a heavy sigh. this wasn’t the greatest thing, and now you were stuck in the care of stephen for possibly the rest of the afternoon -- and god, it was starting to get hot in here.

“what’s the temperature outside?” you question, glancing out the wind to see the sun shining brightly, thinking maybe that’s why you feel so hot. stephen glances at you curiously, “uh, the weather stated there was going to be a high of thirty-seven today. why do you ask?”

“cause it’s fucking hot in here. did you turn the heat on full blast or something?” you state, slowly fanning yourself with the book in your hands. “i didn’t turn on the heat...”

that’s when the realization hits the both of you and stephen quickly scrambles through the book he’s reading to compare what you’re experiencing. all the while, the heat has increased to the point it’s hard to think.

blinking and widening your eyes a little, you glance down back at the book in your hands. attempting to read the words on the page, but they just end up being words -- nothing quite making the connection.

with a sigh, you drop the book to your lap, angling your face up closer to the coolness radiating from the large window behind you, letting it cool your face. sagging back into the chair as your hand drops to your lap and -- jesus christ.

your leg jerks a little as you register the sensation of your fingers on your clothed inner thigh. its a nice sensation, one that has you gliding your fingers over your leg again and causes your stomach muscles to tighten. it had felt good.

“stephen...” you choke out, nearly out of breath at your ministrations and the man in question snaps his head to you, “are you alright?”

you shake your head, “no... fuck... i don’t know.” you whimper softly, hand rubbing slowly along your inner thigh, the pressure in your stomach steadily increasing with each pass.

“tell me what you’re feeling.” stephen almost demands, crossing the room to stand over you -- and finally noticing the beads of sweat collecting on your forehead as you look up at him with hazy eyes, “i feel... good. really good, but not quite good enough...” the words are slightly slurred, and stephen’s head drops as he curses.

he was desperately hoping that the aphrodisiac you had come in contact with wasn’t that one. as the reversal for it wasn’t the best option, and leaving you be was only going to make things worse for you.

stephen catches the movement of your hands attempting to dip below the waistband of your knitted pants, and he quickly snatches up your hands before you can venture any further, “stephen...!”

“you can’t do that, honey. i’m sorry.” he apologizes, heart nearly breaking as your bottom lip quivers and tears gather in your eyes, “but it hurts, stephen...”

“i know... but you’re fingers aren’t going to help you. it will only help for a little bit and then it won’t be enough the next time. you have to trust me on this...” he pleads with you, the words seemingly getting somewhere as you nod, “so, what’s going to happen now?”

stephen sucks in a breath, “i’m going to help you, but please know, this isn’t the way i wanted it to be. but before we... start, i want to know that you’re okay with this.”

it nearly scares him how quickly you agree to what he’s offering, nearly tearing you pants and underwear down to your ankles in anticipation. but stephen can curse at himself about this later, right now, you needed him to help you. and that’s what he was going to do.

your legs are already spread for him, each one hooked over the armrest of the chair, giving him a view of your already soaked and leaking hole as you press yourself back into the cushions, “please stephen...”

he hums, before leaning forward and hooking his arms under each of your thighs. you’re breathing picks and with the blood rushing in your ears, you barely register what stephen is doing until he presses an absolutely filthy kiss to your slick hole.

stephen chases the taste of you, nearly growling as more slick coats his tongue and makes a mess of his face. he withdraws slightly, teases his tongue along to relish the way it makes your keen loudly. and then he gets into a rhythm of circling and probing, to savor the different tune of panting and gasping, listening intently as it gets harder and harder for you to keep still as you chase after your first orgasm.

it gushes over stephan’s tongue, something he happily laps up before pulling back from you entirely to wipe his face with the bak of his sleeve. you’re panting heavily, only slightly worn out from your orgasm and only seconds away from pawing at him again. in need of something more.

stephen is quick to shuck his pants and briefs downward, letting them rest around his thighs as he gathers you up, and pulls you into a more comfortable position with your chest resting against the top of the table nearest to you. your legs spread in the slightest, inviting him in as he steps between you legs and presses his cock into your hole. taking a moment to pause and catch his breath, to get one hand on your shoulder to brace him and the other on your ass, squeezing and spreading in turns to watch your hole twitch around him.

“fuck me, please baby, fuck me.” you nearly sob, as stephen’s head tilts back to sharply breathe in under the onslaught of your pleas, and then he snaps his hips forward, then again, again and again with relentless focus.

you wail loudly, hips immediately rolling back with the rhythmic force of stephen’s thrusts. he’s pistoning right into that spot that makes your eyes roll back and your hole squelch as stephen stretches you open again and again.

noises roll from your lips, a mixture of gasping and whining with each movement. stephen can feel you tightening around his cock, and it makes his blood run impossibly hotter. your breath eventually catches and holds, and stephen feels the unfathomable pleasure of feeling you tighten around his cock so strongly that he has to still for a moment and just watch as the orgasm ripples across your body. your thighs shuddering seemingly outward and then going completely lax as you gasps in lungfuls of air.

you’re still clenched tightly around him, and while all attempts to keep himself from cumming inside you, it turns fruitless as he lets himself go. pumping into you heavily with a deep groan. stephen sighs, gently patting your hip as he calls your name, concern dropping over his voice when you don’t response for a few seconds.

until you do, calling his name weakly as he gathers you in his arms and presses a soft kiss to your temple, “let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” and with you nod, he guides you towards the bathroom.

blog navigation ⇢ [ kinktober masterlist ]

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange imagine #stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange imagine #gn!reader #twistnet #twistnet works 2022 #twistnet :: kinktober 2022 #tppkinktober2022

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feelingpoorly · 3 months

Text

Life lesson: avoid expired egg noodles

So I usually post whiny attention seeking shit like this on my insta bc even tho my kink does not apply to me at all, in some weird way complaining about how ill and knowing people would see it still kinda turns me on a little

But I figured what better place to whine about it here instead since, idk this is kinda what this blog is for

So we went to the shop last night and got a bunch of food from the reduced section. We do this fairly regularly cuz the expired food is so cheap and it’s usually fine if you eat it same day

Well I learnt my lesson lol. Amongst one of the things we got a couple packs of fresh egg noodles in some sauce. I didn’t really like them, but store bought is never gonna be as good as the real thing anyway right?

I was snacking on some cereal at like midnight, having eaten these noodles at like 7. I noticed that I was getting pretty severe stomach pain in the top of my stomach. It was weird and I didn’t really understand why. However I had taken some prescription painkillers earlier that day and although I take a different medication with them to try and stop this happening, they can have a habit of wrecking my stomach and giving me a tummy ache. I thought it was weird, since I definitely HAD remembered to take them with the other med this time, but whatever

Anyway I woke up this morning, we were going out to meet up with some of my partners friends for coffee. I immediately realised I felt bloated as hell, like painfully so. I figured it would pass once I was up and moving around.

It did not.

It pretty quickly progressed into pretty severe stomach cramps, to the point where every time I stood up, it would cramp so hard I couldn’t stop myself from kinda curling over and wincing. At that point I was starting to worry something was actually wrong and I wasn’t just a bit bloated.

I quite quickly started feeling pretty sick, and that’s panic territory for me, being emetophobic. I took a dissolvable anti sickness tablet, but the nausea combined with the horrible cramping made me feel very unwell. I really felt awful and sick and at that point I had to say to my partner, if I say I don’t feel well please can you just take me home. I didn’t know how I was gonna cope sitting in a coffee shop feeling like this. When the cramps hit I was in a lot of pain. Bearing in mind I live with chronic pain, I’m not a baby about pain, but this was the kind of pain that you just wince voluntarily and I couldn’t hide it.

Thankfully the anti sickness meds kicked in, and after sitting down for a while the nausea and the cramps settled down a bit to the point where I was no longer freaking out about being ill in public. I should probably add here that on the way there in the car, my stomach was making some really upset sounding deep rumbling gurgles. Like it didn’t sound good. The kinda gurgles that only come with being sick. I didn’t feel well enough to have a drink or anything to eat which probably looked a little suss. Later on a got just a bottle of lemonade hoping it would settle my stomach but when I sipped it, it just make it worse and my stomach started cramping again.

Skip to being home this evening, I’d thought the worse was over and I’d been feeling kinda ok. I had some light dinner, and what a fucking bad idea that was lol.

Im not having the intermittent intense cramps anymore but like, now my whole stomach feels bloated af again and I have like this sharp cramping pain kinda all over, both upper and lower stomach with just no relief. I’m so bloated my stomach is sticking out but there’s no relief from it at all. Holding my stomach helps but I feel so embarrassed so I’ve tried to hide it and only rub my tummy when my partner went to sleep.

What makes it worse, is that up until this point I had no idea what caused any of this. But when we got home, there was an absolutely rancid smell in the kitchen that smelt like off, rotting food. It was absolutely foul. It almost even smelt like vomit, and just smelling it made my nausea kick off all over again.

It was the leftover noodles. And let me tell you, they smelt pungent as FUCK. I literally ate those last night, and they smell that bad today? No wonder I’ve felt ill. I have that shit in my stomach. Even after my partner bagged up the leftovers, sealed it and put it in the bin, just the PLATE they were on is still emitting this foul smell, it’s just awful

Eating dinner was a bad choice, because now I just feel worse again. I don’t feel that sick anymore, probably because of the meds, but my stomach feels horrible again. I’m in so much pain, I can’t suck my tummy in at all with how sore and bloated and painful it is. I feel like an absolutely pathetic self indulgent lil bitch but I literally just went to make myself a hot water bottle to hold to my tummy as I try and sleep, because it hurts and this is not fun. I just want some relief, and currently nothing else is helping. As I’m lying here holding my tummy with one hand and holding the hot water bottle on it with the other, it’s gurgling and glugging really loudly sickly again and it just feels awful. I can literally feel it in my insides, and with the way it feels I just really hope it doesn’t all come back up again, probably still along with the undigested noodles from last night if the way I’m feeling is anything to go by 🥺

Anyway, I just came here to complain about it in way too much detail lmao. Hopefully someone enjoys my misery. As I said, although it’s embarrassing as hell, somehow the thought of other people knowing or being sympathetic etc is also kinda hot

If anyone wants to use my sorry ass as fic inspo then ofc you have my blessing lmao. In fact, if you do, PLEASE let me know as I’d love to read it haha

Anyway, off to moan quietly to myself and hold the hot water bottle on my aching tummy now x

#sickfic #emeto #emetophilia #emeto kink #sickfic ideas #sickfic prompt #emeto blog #sick #irl sickfic #food poisoning #irl tummy ache #tummy ache #irl emeto #emeto storytime

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bugger-loz · 4 days

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i already yapped abt this au on this blog (expect me to start hyperfixatimg) BUT eurghhg lemme explain this au ONE MORE TIME because i love to infordumo… hrhghgho (also so all of the current info abt my au is all in one post so it’s easier to understand)

so erm instead of being a creation of ganondorf, mucktorock/morcka is actually a follower of him, as well as the other temple bosses. i might expand on why morcka (since it’s not a creation of ganon i feel like giving it a name would be cool ig) is but for now let’s just say it joined for the evil doings (SO SCARY 😨😨)anyways morcka still has its icky yucky sludge powers ofc, everything’s mainly the same except for its shark form. it resembles a zora bc i fucking had to lol. but i imagine morcka would wear its disguise as a weird ass bodysuit and stuff, also small tad tiny weeny little fun fact, morcka is usually in its shark from even when it doesn’t need it (especially around the other temple guardians) it does this because it’s short as hell and is very pissed about that.

anyways the regional phenomena was able to happen cus morcka was told to steal the secret stone of water by ganondorf, so ofc it did because it was evil. this resulted in the secret stone becoming corrupted, since morcka had been hanging out with ganondorf so much it actually became a source of corruption. this also resulted in morcka’s sludge powers amplifying to the point that its powers could affect a whole fucking region , though not that much because of the initial corruption. anyways yada yada yada and link beats the shit out of morcka with sidon, and morcka fucking dies, and the two take the secret stone back and purify it. however morcka is resseructed by the blood moon, and ends up in the depths. this causes it to have “scars” (more like its wounds being patched up by gloom), and stuff. idk

also side thing, i made a separate au back where it was the ganon blights that were the same species of their champions and were ALSO followers of calamity ganon , instead of being creations of him (idk i thought zora waterblight would be cool…) i kinda abandoned that au, and recycled it into this lol. BUT i wanted a way to bring that au back, so i thought of making it again but NO @master-kohga-dating-sim CAME UP WITH THIS GODAMN IDEA /pos

im probably going to actually make the blights their parents, but idk. but it seems like a really cool idea!!!! (also so i could make this lmao)

anyways credit to @kollieflower for the inspo!!!!! and @master-kohga-dating-sim for the potential idea!!!!

#loz #totk #botw #loz au #totk au #totk bosses #totk colgera #totk mucktorok #botw blight ganons #windblight ganon #RAUGH IM SO NORMAL ABT THIS!!!!#pov your explaining something again like you just made it although you’ve already been yapping abt it on your blog a bit too much

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marnz · 3 days

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since i'm one of those people who watched tsn in 2023 (i was 12 when tsn was broadcasted) so it gave me this weird mixed feeling whenever i read markwardo fanfic because knowing how bad these people actually are irl and not some uwu precious baby but i can't blame fanfic writers in 2010-2011 for thinking zuckerberg and saverin were cool because during that time facebook was indeed cool and the internet was younger at that time too, the fic are good i admit but sometimes i need a moment to rethink why am i reading irl capitalists fanfic, it's so hard to distinguish between tsn and irl material most of the time too and not to mention tsn was just a story written based on irl saverin pov of fb and he was also an asshole. The only fun time to enjoy tsn was probably 2010-2011 because fb was cool, the cast was close and now even the cast of this film probably don't even contact each other anymore despite being so closed in 2010, sorry for rambling i just think it's amazing that people who enjoy tsn in 2010 still post about it in 2024!

well anon. Like I said. You had to be there. Look I love context and you said you were 12 in 2010 so here is some context: yes the internet was younger and yes fb/meta had not destroyed democracy yet but I also think there was more of a sense of hope related to technology, as opposed to dread. A lot of tech and social mainstays had not happened yet, politics were drastically different, Chris Hughes (cofounder of fb & communications guy) helped Obama get elected, people didn’t think global warming was real, society was MUCH more conservative and homophobic, etc., and the internet was the place to be.

when you say the internet was younger I’m interpreting this to mean that FB had not come into its final form yet, which is true, but also it & the internet was such a radically different experience. It felt limitless. You weren’t corralled in as much. You could go anywhere, you could find anything, you could make your own websites very easily, you were not assaulted by pop ups and apps were not mainstream because Apple didn’t launch the App Store until 2008. It was so easy to learn how to code. The operating systems between Apple and Android were SO distinct. Twitter launched in 2008/2009 but wasn’t quite so relevant until idk 2014? Fandom had just migrated from LJ to Tumblr but Tumblr was also hotter with the aesthetic girlies and porn blogs. “The algorithm” didn’t run the world. Yesterday I tried to find an article by searching for it and both Google and DuckDuckGo completely disregarded my request and did not turn up anything relevant. I can assure you that would not have happened in 2011. So there was SUCH a sense of optimism because the internet felt like a social good instead of an obligation that is increasingly privatized, surveilled, constrained, and decayed.

Which is why TSN got made and why there was an interest. It was a source of profound social change. But anyway. FB/Meta has ruined lives and it and all other social media apps that elevate divisive opinions to prompt as much engagement as possible (have you heard of the awful Isabel Fall twitter scandal? I recommend this article) are awful! And yet there’s an expectation of being online because a lot of communities now organize online, a lot of services require being online, etc., fandom has become less centralized/less unified, which is its own post.

Out of curiosity, what led you to watch the film? I do find it fascinating that there’s been a resurgence of TSN fandom. If this article had not been written I would not be posting about it but there’s still a lot of fic being written and fanvids being made to Taylor Swift songs. But it’s fandom devoid of all this context. So it is very strange, because you know what FB and all these people in it will become. I think I would have the exact cognitive dissonance you described if I watched it for the first time last year and tried to read fic. It is SO deeply fictionalized, so much of it is radically untrue, but you as the reader carry the truth in your mind. Which is why I cannot and do not engage with these days. And why I hold TSN in my mind curtained off. I spoke with many ppl from the original fandom yesterday and trust me, no one wants this.

I think, realistically, whatever movie Sorkin wants to make will probably be very good. It’s probably a good story to tell & explore. But I won’t be watching it. I lived that shit

#answered #anonymous #tsn #sorry for this very long answer I just think that you need to understand that 2011 and 2024 are basically night & day #also like for all of my critiques I met some of my best friends in TSN fandom #and I wrote so much fic and I met a lot of people that way as well! mostly thru glowing au & homo fuge #yes the cast is no longer close from what I’ve observed.#armie hammer is a rich evil nightmare. Justin Timberlake was once the prince of pop but now is either loathed or unremarkable #Jesse Eisenberg’s career choices are their own post #Andrew Garfield is my Taylor swift.

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royboyfanpage · 2 months

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A tumblr version of my fic because I wanna keep all my masterpost posts on this blog.

It’s a strange sense, a feeling he hasn’t felt in… maybe ever. The feeling of completion, of having everything he needed. Sat in the dark on his faded once-blue-now-grey second hand couch, burn marks in the arm left over from some sleepless nights covered up by finger-painted smiles, the scent of pumpkins and cinnamon and candy apples wafting through the air, Roy realised he’d never felt so whole, so content. The familiar weight of the girl in his arms, the occasional nudge against his leg as the boy on the floor tilts his head to get a better look at the TV, the sensations grounding, a reminder that tonight, he’s with the two people who mean the most to him in this world. Lian’s cheeks were smudged with pumpkin juice from digging out the jack-o-lantern’s insides, but Roy didn’t have the energy to attempt to wrangle the toddler long enough to clean it. Grant’s hair was plaited, pumpkin-shaped clips holding it in place. The two kids, his daughter, and his… something. Roy would never name him. Maybe he needed to, maybe saying it would be the worst thing he could do. Maybe fatherhood was too polluted for the boy, maybe the concept of being a ‘son’ was too damaged- the legacy of a dead man, the prey of a monster. Maybe, maybe, maybe, but no absolutes. His daughter’s brother, undoubtedly, Lian’d called him her brother herself, but the implications of what that made Roy were never addressed. That swell of pride whenever Grant got his powers under control, that squeeze in his chest so tight it hurt whenever the boy’d go to him for a hug, it didn’t need to be mentioned. Roy didn’t need to be named, didn’t need a tangible place in Grant’s life. Roy was there, and that was what mattered.

“Roy, pay attention, this is the best bit!” Grant snaps Roy out of his thoughts with an enthusiastic tapping on his knee, pointing to the TV. Some 80s Goonies-esque kids’ comedy horror was on, one of the few Lian-friendly (and Roy-friendly, though he’d never admit that he couldn’t stand horror any more than his three year old daughter) Halloween movies Grant had in his suggestions. Lian was already asleep, her face squished against Roy’s chest. Fortunately, the girl didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, so the forsaken sugar-rush had been avoided. Roy leaned his head back against the headrest, blinking slowly to try and keep his own eyes open.

“Yuh-huh, I’m watching,” Roy yawned, trying his best to fake interest in the… mass exorcism? He’d kinda zoned out after the part with the werewolf in the Police station, and the plot of the film had been lost in the process. Despite having no idea what was happening, Roy still attempted to pretend for Grant’s sake. “Oh, look, they’re finally gonna get, uh Frankenstein.”

Grant turned around with an appalled expression, his eyebrows shot up in alarm. “Frank’s one of the good guys! Have you even been watching?”

Great. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. “This film’s pro-Frankenstein? I thought he was a monster. That seems like a weird stance.”

“Yeah, duh it’s pro-Frankenstein’s monster. He’s never been a bad guy.”

“He hasn’t? He’s a monster, right?”

Grant sighed in exasperation, pulling his legs up to his chest in that ‘I think what you said is stupid and I’m not gonna humour you with a response’ pose Roy’d seen an almost hilarious amount of times since the kid first came to live with him, resting his chin on his knees. Roy sighed in solidarity and leaned back in his seat, swallowed by the unfathomably plush cushions (thanks, Flasher, for donating furniture so padded that Lian could get lost in the cracks.) His fingers drummed against the arm to an unknown rhythm, some song that might have gone ‘dun dun dun dun, dun dun’, but could just as well have gone ‘dun, dun, dun, dun dun dun’, and Grant tapped his foot to the silent symphony. Lian’s quiet snoring played the bass. It was a better song than Great Frog ever made, anyway.

“Roy? Roy. Roy!” Grant smacked his guardian’s arm, waking the archer from a slumber he hadn’t even realised he’d succumbed to. Glazed eyes adjusted to the new darkness now the film was off, spotting the absence of plates or wrappers which had littered the coffee table last time Roy was aware of his surroundings.

“Wh- what time’s it, kid?” Roy yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the hand not cradling Lian. He didn’t wait for Grant to answer before checking his watch, and gawked at the ‘XII’ that stared at him. “Midnight? Jesus, you should’a woken me earlier.”

“I would’ve, but popular media says it’s a bad idea to wake the dead,” Grant grinned at his own joke, flopping down on the couch next to Roy.

“Very funny. D’you clean up in here?”

Grant shrugged. “Yeah, a bit.”

“You know you don’t have to, right? Like, I don’t- it isn’t an expectation or a requirement.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

That, Roy couldn’t argue with. But there was still that doubt, that fear of intentions, of motivations. He was never entirely sure if Grant was doing something because he wanted to, or because he felt he had to, whether his helpfulness was just him being a good kid or if it was a fear that if he didn’t pull his weight he’d be cast aside. Roy’d felt exactly that when he was Grant’s age, that fear that if he didn’t work hard enough as Speedy, if he didn’t manage to hold his own beside Wally and Donna, he’d be cast aside and forgotten and- well, you already know how that turned out.

Lian wriggled slightly in her slumber, snapping Roy out of his thoughts. With the amounts of tangents his brain’s gone off on the last few months, you’d think he were Dick Grayson. He stood, his back cracking as he rose to his feet (which, since when did back cracking start at 25? He’d need to have a word with whoever designed the human spine. Ha.) and gently lifted Lian with him.

“You should get to bed, kid, it’s late,” Roy whispered so as to not disturb the sleeping toddler, offering a small smile to Grant. Grant just shrugged in response as Roy carried Lian to her room, resting the girl on his hip while he moved the full wardrobe of costume choices she’d gone through before finally settling on a very tiny Agent Smith from the bed onto the floor.

“Night, Etai Yazi,” He smiled, gently settling her in bed and tucking her blankets around her. He positioned her raccoon plush between her arms, and the small girl instinctively squished her cheek against it. With one last check to ensure her comfort, and that she was far enough from the edge to prevent her falling out, Roy switched on the nightlight and closed the door to Lian’s room.

Grant was still sitting on the couch, staring at the black television screen with that face that meant he was getting in his own head about something, just barely visible from the jack o’lantern light. Roy crossed the room at an easy pace so as to not disturb the teenager, sitting down on the other side of the vampire-dressed boy.

“Kid, it’s midnight. You wanna head to bed?”

Grant shook his head. “It’s not midnight yet, there’s still a minute left.”

Roy stared in mild confusion, but didn’t comment. He’d been looking forward to Halloween for weeks, even going so far as to hand-make little pumpkin chains to hang around the walls and some spooky paper arrows (a compromise for bats; Roy’s not decorating his house in Bruce Wayne propaganda) which he’d blu-tacked to the walls. Maybe he wanted to celebrate every second of the holiday. So Roy just leaned back, his hands crossed over his stomach, and watched with Grant as the seconds ticked by.

As the second, minute, and hour hands finally connected at the XII, Grant leaned over the side of the couch, fumbling underneath it for a moment, before pulling out a small box wrapped in red and yellow paper.

“What’s this?” Roy raised an eyebrow, turning the gift over in his hand. It was light, but not weightless- maybe something metal? Or perhaps a hard piece of plastic.

“It’s a birthday present.”

“Since when do you know my birthday?”

“Tempest told Jesse, and she told me.”

“Since when does Garth know my birthday?”

“Roy!” Grant sighed in exasperation, slapping his guardian on the arm.

“Alright, alright,” Roy smiled, carefully unwrapping the paper. The gift was wrapped with precision, so he took his time unwrapping it so he didn’t rip it.

“A box! Just what I always wanted,” He grinned, earning a groan in response.

“Open the box!” Grant whined, and Roy laughed at his impatience.

“Y’know, technically I’m not twenty-six until eleven-”

“Roy!” Grant smacked him again, making Roy laugh harder. Nevertheless, he decided to stop teasing for now, just because the anticipation was so thick it was practically cologne. With only the slightest pause for dramatic effect, Roy lifted the lid of the white cardboard box.

Inside lay a small plastic figure of a bow. No, not just any bow, Roy’s bow, without even the slightest doubt. The red compound was the spitting image of his own, even down to the small white blue stains from forgetting to put it away when he painted the kitchen and the leftover paper from one of Lian’s stickers he’d never managed to entirely remove. Roy stared at the figure in awe, turning it over in his hand and inspecting the details.

“D’you like it?” Grant asked tentatively, and Roy’s heart ached at the look on his face, the hesitation as he waited for the ball to drop, waited for Roy to reprimand him or tell him to put more effort into it.

“Kid- I love it. You made this?” Roy kept his voice soft, glancing between the bow and the boy. Grant’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the unexpected praise, and he nodded slightly.

“Yeah, uh, I mean, I used Nightwing’s 3D printer for, um, actually making it, but- but I made the 3D model and painted it.”

“It’s perfect,” Roy smiled, pulling Grant into a hug. Grant stiffened slightly at first, but relaxed into the embrace after a moment’s pause, resting his chin on Roy’s shoulder.

Maybe the sense’s not so strange. Maybe every other emotion he’d felt the rest of his life was unnatural. Because in that moment, Roy felt a sense of familiarity, like he’d never had a life without Grant in it. Maybe the wordless boy didn’t need to be so wordless after all.

Damn it all to hell. That’s my son.

#roy harper #arsenal #speedy #red arrow #grant emerson #damage #lian harper

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amphibia-a-day · 3 months

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....whoops

Hiiiii I accidentally messed up the numbering of the past few posts since like... The 4th, I'm glad it wasn't longer than that but I finally had time to sit down today and draft and queue more posts and actually add things to the sheets I made (yes I have a Google sheets file with so much info about each post and the dates and numbers and stuff- anyway) and I noticed, huh that's weird, why aren't we near 1000 yet..... Oh no

So uh yeah somehow on the 4th I posted 998 instead of 988, I guess I can see how that would happen, but then the next one was 899? Then 900, then somehow 801, and then I've been counting from there.... Whoops ... This is what happens when I've been working 2 jobs and also opened a show at the beginning of February so I haven't actually had time to sit down on my laptop and queue stuff, I've just been doing it on my phone in passing moments of free time... Whoopsie 💀🧍

Anyway it's fixed now! Today isn't 807, it's 997, which means day 1000 is soon! I should've known something wasn't right when Tumblr told me I hit 1000 posts on this blog a few days ago .... H m

Anyway, things should be back to normal now! ...and hopefully with a little more variety in episodes I post, I've just only had what I had drafted already to work with and not been able to pull things from my laptop, but now there's a few more options! Which, speaking of....

I've been meaning to make a post like this for a little while but haven't gotten around to it - what episodes do you want to see screenshots from?? I've been posting screenshots I like, or I think people will like, but I wanna know - what would you like to see? ...to anyone that may read this anyway. Feel free to write in the notes, or send me an ask, or do whatever feels comfortable for you! Or you can submit screenshots and I'll queue them up if they haven't been posted yet - I've had people send me some before, and apologies for not responding to your asks, but I do definitely see them!!! And I appreciate them so much!!

tl;dr, I goofed on the last 10 days of posts, but I fixed them now, and now I'm going to sit down and queue more for at least a little bit so more screenshots can actually get posted on time instead of when I realize before going to bed 😔 and I'd love to hear from you all on what you'd like to see on this account! I love running it, and I love seeing people come back day after day - thanks for being here! :)

#this turned into me rambling lol oops #....also if you see random posts non amphibia related thats cause I meant to reblog it to my main account but misclicked or didn't notice #usually I catch it right away... but while doing this I just noticed one that had been there since January 14th....#so hey uh mistakes happen lol #thank you for reading this all if you have #thanks for sticking around! I appreciate it :)#almost at day 1000; wow #that's wild to me #and here's to 1000 more lol #... hopefully

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angeldiaries777 · 6 days

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goodbye.

I want to make a post formally saying goodbye to my followers on here. It's been a long time coming. If you follow me you know that this blog is basically my diary in a lot of ways and I've been through a lot on here but I think its time to say goodbye to this era of my life. I can't post on here casually. I've mellowed out and grown up a lot since janurary of 2023 and this blog witnessed a lot of that. I would write a lot of my thoughts out on here some from other people's perspectives some with hidden truths but a lot of it was just purely my reality and perspective at the time. as you may already know i have a lot of weird habits with how i use this site for starters i rarely tag any of my posts or post original photos i don't know why thats just how my brain works. anyway i know that not a lot of people will see this its mainly just closure for myself i don't wanna just dissapear from what has been my life forever. i grew up on the internet as an escape from my real life. ive tried to leave multiple times but i always come back to either reblog something or just scroll and its just not healthy. its better than it used to be i don't crave the validation from it anymore and im not blaming my past self for wanting that cuz its perfectly normal thing to want especially when ur dperived of that in your real life. i went insane for a while. having to basically parent yourself because your parents are inadequate is difficult. i would be lying if i said i didnt regret how certain things in my life went or certain "choices" i made (i do not believe you can make decsions when you are as sick as i was at the time) i don't know what to say theres so much i could talk about as the topic of life is never ending but i just i wanna say this because chances are if you know my account exists or have found my account that you also use the internet as an escape in some way. and just know that it never ends well. it doesnt matter how much u showcase or minimize your pain. no one can help you until you decide you're sick of yourself. and this will happen multiple times as it literally mirrors withdrawl and addiction for some of us. theres no conclusion to draw here. nothing is ending in my actual life. infact the opposite is happening im trying to live life for the first time and set less limits on everything if anything my narrow view of thinking is expanding and will continue to as i reach young adulthood. which is crazyy to say cuz i feel like i was 14 being a loser on twitter like it was yesterday. anyway another thing i wanna say is don't let people shame you for your past or things that you're working on changing. you're already aware something wasn't working for you. life does not have to be cookie cutter. im glad mine is not. Im done with this chapter of my life. i do have another private blog but thats just for me. if you wish to say anything to me or about my blog before i leave for good then just dm me or send an anon. I'm not playing the saviour role anymore. I'm done with self desctruction and degeneracy. I'm done with things that damage my soul.

#angeldiaries777

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tenebrius-excellium · 1 year

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I love your post about backend motivation vs frontend motivation in the HTTYD series!!! I’ve always had a bit of a problem with the sequels (especially the third movie) that I could never put into words, but the difference in motivation is EXACTLY it. The Hidden World in particular had a specific ending in mind, wich isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but their solution was to force the ending into existence instead of letting the story naturally build up to the ending. And you can feel the story straining soooooo much when Toothless acts like a dog for twenty minutes or Grimmel does something simple/obvious that the narrative treats as an ingenious act of strategy. It’s just not genuine! The characters simply wouldn’t act like that, but the writers let plot dictate characters instead of the other way around, and it’s just. so disappointing. There has to have been a way to keep the natural tensions and eventual triumphs of dragon/human bonds without resorting to flattening everyone’s character and taking the story in a weird, half-baked direction.

————————————————————————————-

Oh my gosh B. You’re still there??????? THANK YOU for being faithful to my blog even tho I’ve not really posted anything proper in ages!!! I’m so happy to hear from you!!!

I’m glad you liked my post XD Ok so. I remembered that what I tried to express is called “Watsonian vs. Doylish” interpretation in fandom (based on this post), or easier, it’s about giving in-universe explanations vs. ex-universe explanations for something that happens in the plot. The actual literary terms according to Gérard Genette for that would be “intra-diegetic” vs. “extra-diegetic”.

The specific difference the terms “back-end vs. front-end motivation” makes, seems to be the phenomenon that building a story from the start allows it to better make sense inside the universe, whereas building a story from its ending reveals the circumstances that the author found themselves in when creating it.

Anyway so what I always found strange is that Httyd2 had all those same problems you named, yet no one talks about that and only bashes on the third movie! Wanna enlighten me on why the second movie worked for you???

Ok so this is spontaneously going to turn into the “Ooc Hiccup post” that I promised at the beginning of the year. I hope you’re ok with that.

WHY IS HICCUP OOC IN HTTYD2?

because his new conflict (”becoming Chief”) was pulled out of thin air and wasn’t already an established extension of Berk’s situation. (a part I always loved about Httyd1 was that Hiccup wasn’t made out to be a Disney Princess who would have to face the duty of leading eventually. I expected the question of succession to be handled far more casually - that someone who wanted to be worthy could be Chief on Berk, not because Hiccup was expected to continue Stoick’s legacy. In fact I wish Stoick would have let him go rampant with the smithy and all his crazy inventions, making him Gobber’s successor first - since Gobber is also canonically older than Stoick - and lining Astrid up to be the next actual Chief. There could have been a sudden plot twist where Astrid realizes she doesn’t want to do it alone and that she needs Hiccup in this with her. It would have made them the ruling couple in a different way.)

because the movie made him immature on purpose so it could justify slapping the “necessary” growth arc on him. (Look, Hiccup has always been reckless and a little bit too trusting when presented with danger, but he was never ignorant of a certain reality or too stupid to see error in his ways. Httyd2 depicts him as a naive dragon geek who can’t see past the destructive potential this has on the humans around him. Eret has had a shit life and a dark past. Drago has his reasons for what he does. Yet Hiccup is far too quick to ignore the trauma that the tribes of the Archipelago suffered because of the dragon plague, and simply forgives his mother despite the fact that she chose to save dragons over raising her own son. It’s all in the name of dragon welfare now and that is just not Hiccup. Og Hiccup took time to engage with Astrid’s valid scepticism. Og Hiccup killed the Red Death to save his tribe. He did not attempt to train that one, if you get what I’m saying. The dragons were never pets.)

because Stoick died only so he wouldn’t get in the way of Hiccup’s leadership. (After all that happens, Hiccup - to me - hasn’t suddenly evolved into a wiser or more experienced person. He just righteously got his ass kicked for the stupidity that was forced onto his character. He then becomes Chief not because he has learned much from the situation, but because Stoick is now dead. It’s true that Hiccup says “Sorry, Dad” to the funeral pyre, but it is never specified what he’s sorry for. To me, he does understand that he got his father killed, but he doesn’t get a grasp on why. He hasn’t the faintest notion of what Stoick did for him, to what extent his father came after him. There was desperation in Stoick to save his son. And Hiccup never feels this guilt much. It is then very convenient that he can freely lead the people of Berk and appear as a competent Chief simply because there is no more Stoick to disagree with him. I loved the version in the books where Hiccup becomes king and Stoick as well as Valhallarama are both alive and well to see it!!!! And Stoick, Chief of the Hairy Hooligans, has to take a step back and let his son shine.)

Right. So that’s that. The second point is by far my greatest criticism regarding Httyd2. Hiccup, in my opinion, was always balanced between the needs of dragons and humans. He is not a “dragon geek”. It simply so happened that a dragon became his best friend because no one else wanted to be his friend at first. Movie!Hiccup is an “invention geek”!!! The time he spends building stuff in the smithy is so important to his character! He doesn’t fix stuff by talking. He fixes stuff by building tools first and explaining them to everyone else second. That’s how I’ve always understood him. Httyd3 Hiccup partly returned to that focus with his fireproof armor, the fully developed flightsuits and the docking contraption for ships that he made on New Berk. The Hiccup I know acts more, gains emotional insight by observation, and talks less.

Of course I agree with all of your criticism of Httyd3. Yes the movie felt strained. But I admit that because I enjoyed Hiccup’s hesitant yet determined character again, I can overlook its flaws much easier than the flaws of Httyd2.

Let me know what you think!

#httyd #httyd2 #httyd3 #httyd franchise #analysis #httyd analysis #httyd2 analysis #httyd3 analysis #wherethekiteflies #wherethekitethought #b #ask #asks #anon #anonymous

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changeling-of-the-fae · 5 months

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T-10 Pre-Op And The Weird Things You Do Before Surgery

Caveat for anyone who doesn't want to see these (there are probably a lot more coming): I'm tagging them all as 'recovery blog' if you want to block it!

I've been trying to maintain a certain nonchalance - sure, surgery is going to suck, but I've already done everything that comes after.

I know I can do it again, and at least this time I can plan for it.

When I got home from Montana, brace and crutches in tow, I hadn't even finished unpacking from my move. There were boxes everywhere places, clothes that needed a home, and crutch-friendly pathways were non-existent. I didn't have estim, or ice packs, or a wedge pillow.

This time I have all that and more! Possibly too much more.

I suspect my mother and aunt have been looking at knee replacement surgeries for ideas of what I might need, but we are on very different pages.

I love them dearly, but I will NOT be using a bedside commode. I will be getting my nerve-blocked butt the ten feet it takes to get me to the bathroom. The surgeon has already made i clear that it's better to get up and moving sooner rather than later, anyway.

I do, however, think they're starting to get to me. Because, and not to be too dramatic, it feels a little like I'm dying.

It's not because I'm suffering or in total agony. But there's this odd background checklist of 'things I can do now' and 'things I won't be able to do for a while'. And it feels weirdly like I'm putting my affairs in order. Which, really, I am - recovery from surgery, to the level I'm at now (but hopefully better!) is at least six months.

I went grocery shopping, picked up the requisite stool softener (hardcore painkillers), and finished a few of the tasks I promised my mother I'd do weeks ago.

I called my dad's sister and asked her out for coffee, since we only get together at the family Christmas party and I'm not planning to go (it's three days post-op.)

And I have been cleaning; in suspicious new ways.

My parents' house is a visual representation of the marriage of ADHD (my mother, myself, my younger brother - we care but the doing is herculanean) and autism (my dad and older brother - they don't care and don't know why they should.)

So believe me when I say the three hours I spent washing windows, scrubbing switch plates, and dusting baseboards is seriously out of place.

It's just...the little things, y'know?

My bedroom windows haven't been cleaned since before we moved in 15 years ago.

It wouldn't normally register on my radar as a worthy task (they're windows, dirt happens!) but dammit I want to be blinded by sunlight after my surgery.

I want to wake up to snow and wish I had my sunglasses.

(much clean, very shiny!)

I know no one else at home cares. I don't expect them to even notice, really. Hell, I barely care. But there's some weird mental-physical link that's compelled me to make a three (3!!) page to-do list of odds and end tasks like this.

Maybe I'm just looking for ways to stay busy. I'll never admit to it.

#mpfl recovery #knee surgery #recovery blog #patellar dislocation #mpfl tear #personal

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girlmodepod · 1 month

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Episode Number Blog

Robin: Hello and welcome to Girl Mode.

Willa: THE BLOG.

Robin: Yes, the blog. As you may have noticed, we haven’t had a new episode in two weeks. That’s because I’ve been sick and I can’t finish a sentence without coughing. So we have decided to try a little experiment instead. Think of it like a podcast that you don’t listen to with your ears, but with your eyes. We’re calling it a blog. We made that term up.

Willa: Kind of like how Hideo Kojima made up the term “movies”

Robin: Basically exactly like that. We’re the Hideo Kojima of podcasts. Does Hideo Kojima still have a podcast?

Willa: That’s a good question. Look it up while I talk… or write rather. So just running through the motions like we do on the pod, should we talk about some news that’s been happening lately in the industry? Because a lot has been done in the two weeks we’ve been off.

Robin: The last episode of Hideo Kojima presents Brain Structure was in March 2023. So I guess he gave that up.

Willa: He should bring it back to have Hunter Schaefer on.

Robin: We should have Hunter Schaefer on.

Willa: So. News.

Robin: Yeah, it’s been a fucked up couple of weeks. Or, honestly, there’s just been one fucked up thing sort of dominating news for the past couple of weeks, which we’ve planned to talk about for two weeks in a row now but couldn’t. We kind of missed the boat on it, which is actually a good thing I guess because it shows just how short-lived this sad little attempt at launching Gamergate 2.0 was that it seems to be on its last legs now.

Willa: Yeah if you want to know the details of it, there are several good articles on it, but honestly my favorite take is Ash Parrish’s which just calls the whole attempt at a movement “smaller and sadder.”

Robin: Yes! I actually wanted to talk about Ash’s take too, and it’s fortunate that it just came out. I think if we had talked about this two weeks ago, I would have said “here’s how I wish people were approaching this,” and last week I would have said “people are starting to approach it the way I hoped we would” and now it seems like Ash have kind of wrapped up the whole conversation perfectly. Which is, in short, the people going after Sweet Baby Inc and diversity in gaming are doing it in an incredibly pathetic attempt at feeling important. She’d probably put it a nicer way, but that’s how I see it.

Willa: For me, the thing that I keep coming back to and want to remind people of is that these groups are just such a vocal minority in the industry anyways. Like the industry is getting more diverse naturally and most players want that. GLAAD released its first gaming report this year and overwhelmingly players said queer characters in a game wouldn’t dissuade them from buying a title.

Robin: Totally! I think that’s an important thing to keep in mind. No matter how loud these people are, they are essentially trying to shout loud enough to stop the seasons from changing and it’s just not gonna happen.

Which isn’t to say that it’s nothing! Like, yes they’re a small and annoying buzzing in our ears, but they’re also trying their hardest to be something more than that. So while they’ll never achieve their stated aims of making gaming less diverse, they can be a real pain in the ass in the process! I had my own little taste of that this week when I tweeted something critical of Capcom using one of the biggest instigators of this whole mess to market Dragon’s Dogma 2 and it’s been nonstop bullshit since then. I just checked and I have 704 comments on that post. They’re probably not ALL shitheads, but most of them are! So I do just want to acknowledge that being on the receiving end of that kind of sucks, and I do think it’s important to call that behavior out and also be aware when someone you know is being brigaded and make sure they’re ok.

Willa: All very true. Should I let you monologue a bit longer?

Robin: Shut up. Yes. I really just want to add how weird of an experience it was to have this much shit thrown at me by like the most incompetent people in the world. You got some of this when you wrote about the shitty Harry Potter game, and I’d always kind of been afraid of it, since being a trans person in public seems to be enough to incite mobs. But I’ve got to say, and this is maybe a weird comment to make, but these people are fucking corny! There’s sort of that thing about transphobes only having one joke, and it’s true! They have like three maybe. But before I stopped paying attention, it was shocking how much people were just repeating literally the same message, sending the same shitty memes and all that. It just lays bare how much all this behavior is about trying to impress each other in this really sad way.

Anyway, that’s all I’ve got I think, except to say, it’s a good idea to read up on everything that’s gone down and keep informed about it, but it’s also a totally valid personal reaction at that point just to say, “These people seem like assholes. Diversity is a good goal to aim for so I don’t really need to pay any more attention to people who want to stand in the way of that.” Like, the worst-case scenario for the people pushing this harassment campaign is that more marginalized people get hired to write more marginalized characters in games, so just saying that that's actually a good thing and that fighting against it is incredibly stupid is enough, I think.

Willa: Can we talk about how cool Unicorn Overlord is now… please?

Robin: Your transitions are just as smooth in text I see.

Willa: Ok. So, Unicorn Overlord rocks!

Robin: It does.

Willa: For those who don’t know, Unicorn Overlord is Vanillware’s latest game and it's a tactics RPG that’s also kind of an RTS game. It has a medieval fantasy story that doesn’t matter at all. The main attraction is the combat, which is fantastic and has a lot of crunchy systems and numbers to fiddle with. We both reviewed it, and both liked it a lot.

Robin: Yeah it rules. I think the whole time we were playing it, we were texting each other like five times a day about how good it is.

Willa: It’s definitely one of the best games the genre has seen in recent years. Hell, even Yasumi Matsuno can’t stop talking about how good this game is. And while I agree with him that this game is amazing to play, the one thing it lacks when compared to Matsuno’s games is the story. It doesn’t need a good story with combat this good, but god I wish it did have one, 13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim showed they could do a great narrative and that would have really made this a home run. But again, that’s a nitpick. The game still rocks.

Robin: I’m watching you type so I saw you say something like “one of the best games in this genre” and then delete it, but I don’t think you need to restrict it to “recent years.” I really think it’s one of the best strategy RPGs ever. Everything about it just goes so unbelievably hard. Except the story, yeah. Do you want to talk about the story a bit? It’s something we both critiqued even coming out of the preview and I didn’t have the room to really fit much about it into my review.

Willa: I mean I barely even touch on it in my review just because there is truly so little. You are a prince building an army to take back his throne, which was taken from his family by an evil guy. That’s it!

Robin: They really should have known he was evil from his armor even before he overthrew the queen.

Willa: The thing that I was more interested in picking at was how the mechanics intertwine with what little narrative there is in weird ways. Like the game has no interest in investigating what makes Prince Alain a good ruler, and the literal handwavey magic explanation for why the game’s bad guys are bad but not actually and don’t have culpability for their actions is a big head scratcher for me. But the game just isn’t interested in investigating those potential themes.

Robin: Yeah, it really is just about getting the good king back and throwing out the bad one. The thing that really sticks out to me is, like you said, the handwavey magic bit. So in the game, the evil bad guy just like casts a spell on a bunch of people and turns them into the leaders of his army, then Prince Alain uses his own handwavey magic to free them. It just seems so odd to me that they would choose what must be the least dramatic way of telling this story. All the major enemies are just mind-controlled, so they can become your friends after you beat them in battle. It’s so strange to me that they sidestep any potentially interesting political intrigue in favor of a plot that feels ripped out of a saturday morning cartoon.

Willa: Basically I think if you want a great tactics/strategy game you should pick this up. But if you need a story, then this will not spark joy in you. I am surprised by how much buzz this game is getting though, just in my office I’ve had a bunch of non-gaming writers come up to me to say how they have bought the game. You love to see it. Like Yoko Taro said, everybody should be buying Vanillaware games!

Robin: Yeah that’s actually surprising! It feels like such a niche thing that would only appeal to real sickos, but somehow it’s getting tons of attention. It’s well deserved, just surprising. And I do love seeing all the Vanillaware appreciation. I’ve followed this developer for so long and it’s honestly shocking that this is the game that’s finally getting them this much press when it feels like one of their least accessible. I mean, it is just that good though. Even now when we’re both spending all our time playing [REDACTED], I still want to go back and play more Unicorn Overlord if I can ever find the time.

Willa: All I want to do is spend all day talking about [REDACTED], but with that teaser, should we run through what we’ve been doing for the past two weeks?

Robin: Sure, everyone has probably stopped reading by now anyway. So, as I said I’ve been sick for a couple weeks, which is taking up pretty much all of my time. Shoutout to eating chicken noodle soup on the couch. Otherwise, just playing a couple things for work that I’ll be able to share soon enough. I guess I’ve been watching a lot of Deep Space 9? It’s kind of a comfort show for me, so I can put it on when my brain is too fuzzy to watch anything new and just be soothed by… horrible interstellar conflict I guess?

Willa: Sounds relaxing.

Robin: Yeah it’s got some hot aliens in there too, so that’s nice. What have you been up to?

Willa: Well I haven’t been sick in bed for a week, so I’ve been doing stuff. Outside of games, I’ve really been enjoying the show Shogun lately. I also started reading the new Ultimate X-Men comic by Peach Momoko, which rocks and you should read the article I wrote about it.

I think with that we can wrap up here. I’m excited to record another episode this week but also we should do this again. Maybe we will get the hang of it one of these times. Though that hasn’t been true of podcasting so…

Robin: Yeah but we have a lot more practice with written words than spoken ones. But yeah, I’m finally on the mend so we should be back to the normal schedule next week. If you’ve somehow made it this far though, and even more unlikely, enjoyed it and want more stuff like this, let us know! If you don’t like it, keep it to yourself.

Willa: You can find us on socials and any podcast provider, that’s all in our linktree that you can just click on here.

Robin: Yeah I guess that wraps up the first Girl Mode Blog Edition, and maybe the last if no one reads this. If you do want to see more, maybe like this post so we know that anyone bothered to read it!

Willa: Normally I just let the fade to music cover our bad endings, but we don’t have that here. Bye.

Robin: I’ll try to find a way to make this just fade out so it feels the same and people can just imagine we said something interesting afterward. Bye!

#gaming #video games #podcast #queer

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