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#like hell yeah reblog my shit
alectoperdita · 1 year
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I wanna protect everyone who's still willing to draw joukai art in this day and age while braving how it's increasingly the fandom black sheep ship and tumblr's shitty reblogging drought
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dennisboobs · 4 months
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i think one of the biggest issues in modern fandom is that despite the abundance of autistic/adhd/audhd fans, a declaration that cringe culture is dead, and the fact that we're all watching the same show, there is large portion of people who participate in fandom as a popularity contest, where the focus shifts off of the main interest and develops almost a secondary hyperfixation with specific creators, blogs, accounts, in a way that at least borders on parasocial.
this is nothing new, but the attitude that springs from it then dictates a specific Way to interact with that fandom, meaning that those who aren't interested in following select clique leaders are outcast and seen as More Cringe because they don't speak or act within acceptable parameters. when people have a platform, there's a pressure to be funny, be entertaining, to produce more Content that your followers WANT to see, the stuff they followed you for. sometimes this leads to plagiarism, ripping off posts from other platforms or lesser known accounts because you feel a compulsion to post ANYTHING for engagement instead of what you WANT to post. speaking from experience here, i am something of a Former YouTuber with a sizeable following, and i've been through it on other social media with several other fandom sideblogs and shit.
different platforms, different friend groups, different subsections – depending on preferred characters, ships, etc. – are inevitably going to be far more insular, and especially long-time fans who are less interested in the general media and more about a selection of specific interests is going to fall into this trap eventually. however, i think social media influences this more now than it did even a few years back, especially on twitter where it's more difficult to find "content" without a well-known account attached.
a while back someone made an always sunny iceberg that had a bunch of shit i had never seen before, despite having personally trawled the waybackmachine and archived a bunch of semi-lost media, running and overhauling the wiki with its decades of collected trivia, and having been on sunnyblr. a lot of it was from the podcast, but the stuff i had no recollection of was obscure ass sunnytwt drama that only involved like. a very small group of individuals. the thing is that these few accounts are minor celebrities in the fandom, and everyone follows them. i myself followed one or two of them when i first got into the fandom because they were posting clips reblogged by non-sunny mutuals. there are a TON of sunny focused accounts on twirter, but only a few that have multi-thousand followings, primarily for this reason. this is essentially your only gateway into the sunny fandom on twitter. here (on tumblr), you can easily look in the tags and curate your followed blogs (or look at the iasip subreddit) but it's a lot harder to find fandom content without that organized space (most people don't specifically tag tweets), instead you have to rely on the few sunny accounts you followed incidentally to deliver you retweets so you can follow more accounts.
so then what happens? you follow more accounts? see a variety of sunny content? follow a tag to see fandom newcomers' posts, art, fics? no, you follow the same 5 accounts you started with and stay in the echo chamber, caught up in drama and taking sides based on your few mutuals' opinions, maybe things get a little too personal and you stay following someone even though you disagree with their posts because you really don't have much of a choice, they can see if you unfollow, and they put posts on your timeline. you make a private account and start quote retweeting them to get out your irritations, a passive aggressive reminder that they're wrong. your other mutual quote retweets someone calling them stupid, and you also decide to tell them how wrong they are, because it's a popularity contest, not an open discussion. there's a Content Draught during the hiatus and people start getting bored. it becomes less and less about the original show, and more about the cliques, the exciting new drama of the day, the actors.
new fans are lost, long-time fans who don't care about all this extra shit are alienated, and it leads to a very odd type of gatekeeping that has these Elevated fans looking down on people for actually wanting to engage with the source media. yes, this includes the fans on reddit who spout quotes. this includes the people who liveblog their first time watching the show. this includes people who care about the show because it's still fresh and exciting and they haven't yet been made to feel that it's something to hide because it's cringey or dated or stupid to take it Too Seriously theorizing and dissecting the Poop and Fart Show.
I am guilty of all of this too, i think for quite a while i've been feeling like i need to defend myself by lashing out at other people because i am extremely sensitive to being made fun of for actually caring about my special interest. but i think that analysis and criticism (within reason) are extremely important facets of fandom and we as a fandom should be trying to encourage that rather than make fun of other fans. i think this is probably the reason for a lot of the issues with fan superiority, gatekeeping, the general awful atmosphere in the fandom. it's easy to complain and make counter content to someone else's post, it's a lot harder to grow the balls to have a proper in-depth lore discussion with them, or better yet, make your own stuff. ive been joking about a fandom-wide rewatch, but i genuinely think we should organize something like that. and i think everyone should set aside the judgement and just enjoy themselves. i'm sick and tired of feeling unwelcome in a fandom that i dedicate a lot of time to because i'm unashamed about enjoying the source media and i suspect a lot of you probably feel the same. you don't need to push everything through an irony filter and self depreciate, you can just like sunny and want to participate in fandom.
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bibiscate · 7 months
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what if what if I make a fnaf sb jurassic park AU? then what? what you gonna do what if freddy was a fucking t-rex?? then what??? what if IF it was focused in sun AND moon because of course it is what if fucking t-rex freddy fucking adoted!!!! adoted a random child!!! that got lost during the island evacuation like inthe movies what would you think??? if the kid was gregory??
what if that fnaf sb jurassic park/world AU was complete self-indulgence nonsense bullshit?? would you see me with different eyes?? would you look at me the same way? or you would enjoy watching me suffer in hell the same way the velociraptors enjoyed chasing those kids??
what if it was a fucking y/n protagonist huh?? HUH??? and they dated the fucking dino daycare attedant (they show the kids the baby dinos lol) and??? and then what??
what what if I told YOU I thought about that AU more times than I thought about my my exam week (this week)
what if the lil music man were lil compys?? those baby eaters?? what if y/n and eclipse kissed during the dinos final fight?
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milimeters-morales · 7 months
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im finally getting ads completely in spanish now including the close/exit/proceed/shop now buttons that are on them ^_^ gonna start a journal soon for it as well!
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the-kipsabian · 24 days
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the thing about the aew releases (and possibly more releases coming..) is that people arent mad that they are cutting talent in general; the part people are mad about is the talent thats being cut. so many on the list from yesterday were either prominent characters, really good workers, actually good and beloved wrestlers, THE BOYS WERE LITERALLY PART OF A STORYLINE that finishes this friday, slim j was severely fucked over with his character and not being let to wrestle, anthony henry is FUCKING INJURED (and they just released workhorsemen merch and kept his tag partner like. what?)...
meanwhile they continue to employ people who obviously dont want to be there or need to be there. we have no use for miro who keeps fucking things over by being a poor pissbaby about his booking (and tony being a spineless bitch just accepting it lmao), jericho who is all sorts of mcfucking problematic, nobody wants sammy guevara, honestly they should do something about max caster as well (as hilarious as i find some of his shit; the twitter stuff has gotten way out of control), among probably many others but i cant think right now
just. yeah. this isnt about talent cuts in general, we all know aew roster is bloated to hell and back with people and its to the detriment of the company. however they way they are handling it? not the solution
(also the fact that they made a comment about this being "budget cuts" makes no sense when they let go people who barely are featured and are paid peanuts. its just bullshit excuses, as per usual)
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bat-connoisseur · 2 years
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I FORGOT ABOUT THE BAT QUEUING AND NOW MOST OF MY DASH IS BATS, I'M NOT COMPLAINING THIS IS THE IDEAL
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marrow-bone · 2 years
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I know it's only my problem and it's not fair to others but it sucks to like;; care about people instantly and without reason. To be like 'Ah yes, I actively care about this person just because they're a person who I know, and I will go out of my way for their health and happiness' but it seems like most people aren't keen on doing even mildly inconvenient things for your peace of mind or health back.
It feels nice to be useful, but hurts so bad to be just convenient or tolerated.
#this is about many people in my life#if you follow me dw this doesn't apply to anyone who follows me#unless you *are* just tolerating me in which case I'd rather you just not follow me#I don't want people pretending to be nice and only following because they feel too awkward to unfollow#this is your permission to be rid of me#vent#I'd prefer this not get reblogged unless you can relate to the sentiment; not much point to do so#and again#I know I shouldn't expect my peers to love me the way I love them#but I've always been way too freely trusting and willing to be friendly and that's why I only have like 3 friends#been burned plenty and I don't like saying 'friend' first and nowadays even after that I am cautious because plenty of people#I thought were 'friends' were either vaguely nice sometimes or actually actively hostile to me in secret#plenty of times as a kid I only got attention because of something I *had*#even though we didn't have much compared to the rich kids#so weird to be 'friends' with someone one day hanging out and doing things and trying to be a good host#and then the next they're talking shit about you for things *they* also did??#like yeah maybe I'm still collecting mlp as a 8-yr-old 'girl' but you got no reason to talk you're the one that wanted to play with them??#anyway public school is hell and it's funny the little things from it you suddenly realize are deep emotional scars#things I learned in public school: education 0#how to be paralyzed in fear over rejection and potential lies: 1000000%#delete later
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ablednt · 2 years
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In general though it's nigh impossible figuring out your support needs and where the fuck you fall on anything when you're an abuse survivor because you were always forced to be whatever your abuser(s) wanted you to be.
Like even my therapist thinks I'm so well spoken and fine and barely need help but I'm over here in hell trying to push myself to exhaustion because I never learned to rest I never learned to recognize where I need help
#this isnt a continuation of that last reblog or a vague or anything#I've just been struggling with this shit a lot lately#why does everyone think I'm fine? i lay in bed all day in agony cause i simultaneously cant get my brain to start and cant get it to shut up#and it's even more wild trying to figure that out on this blog bc like#I do NOT sound like this elsewhere not even in text really?#if u talk to me on discord or in a casual setting i mostly manage by repeating the same few words#i don't know how to respond a lot of the time#on here it's like. I'm absolutely exhausting myself to communicate Clearly and should I even really be doing that? idk#but it's not so much intentional as it is a subconscious defense mechanism#if I just communicated the way i normally do on here people would get confused or angry at me#just wording things slightly wrong has gotten me attacked on here before (nothing recently this isnt a vaguepost/srs) so it's like#yeah I sound way more put together on here than I really am tbh#and I think that causes a lot of disconnect between the things I talk about and the way I talk about them#i mean hell even my therapist thinks I'm basically fine even tho i told her a math test made me want 2 kms so badly i gaveup halfway through#like ik forcing myself to talk like this was a survival technique but im scared it's causing me more trouble than it solves#cause no one takes my problems seriously everyone assumes I'm low support needs and i absolutely am not afaik but then again my whole#struggle is that idfk what i need or what my problem is or if i even have one i just need 2 shut up more is the thing
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NEW AND IMPROVED INFO ON UNIVERSE 1 AND THE FUNNY LITTLE GUYS WHO LIVE THERE
I decided to make an update to the original info post I made, since I changed the canon a lot since I made it. Plus, the old one was based on an even older character doc that didn't go into very much detail and omitted a few decently major characters. So, what the hell!! New year new info.
THE BASIC PREMISE:
A young sorta-goddess named Alice was born alongside her own personal pocket dimension to rule over and expand at her leisure. After many years of this, Alice decides she wants to make the perfect friend for herself, but in creating Mikayla, she accidentally makes her perfect nightmare instead. Mikayla turns against her creator, forming a pact with the monstrous Breaks to act as their commander in exchange for her world's eventual destruction, and Alice does not have the strength to create her own army to oppose them. In desperation, Alice turns her sights back to the Earth she was born to, and begins to build her army a different way - with the souls of those who died young and unhappy. The story follows the humans trapped in Alice's domain as they fight to survive in the hopes of one day thriving in this strange new world, while still struggling to deal with the scars from their pasts. The main story takes place sometime around 2016-2018.
SOME WARNINGS: mentions of death, abuse, school shootings, human experimentation, body horror, murder, bullying, car crashes and suicide. none of these will be discussed in depth (outside of the death part, since I will be mentioning how each of Alice’s soldiers died, and potentially the body horror part when it comes to describing Alice's guards), and will only be briefly mentioned, but I felt it was worth adding this warning nonetheless. let me know if there’s anything else I should add to this warnings list, and I’ll make sure to add that warning both to this and any future piece that may contain that particular content.
NOTABLE TERMS:
Authors - Someone with power over a Realm. The name is a shortened version of the word “authority”, as well as the term 'author/auteur' as used to refer to the primary creator of different forms of art. They look like normal people in their home worlds, but are reality-warping gods in their Realms. They can either be born this way (Founding Authors) or can be turned into an Author by a different Author (Inherited Authors). If an Author dies and hasn’t selected anyone to be their ‘heir’, their Realm crumbles and dies. The term has some variations - Alice, for example, refers to herself as an ‘Authoress’ as a more fancy and feminine version of it - though ‘Author’ itself is considered a gender-neutral term. They have a tendency to become fixated on making specific types of objects/creatures, and they become more and more
Realms - Miniature universes created by an Author’s birth, sometimes considered to be the Author’s twin. They are sentient to some extent, though are so different from most lifeforms that they cannot communicate aside from puppeteering creatures (usually Creations) to do their bidding. Their Author(s) keeps them stable, and if the only Author dies without picking a replacement, they do too. The majority of the story takes place in one of these Realms (exceptions being prequel short stories that take place on Earth). 
Creations - Living creatures made by Authors to serve a specific role in their Realms. Creations are given a ‘purpose’ by their Author that forms the backbone of their identities, which can range from specific tasks they must fulfill to simply live however they choose. Aside from that, they can look like practically anything, and their mindsets can range dramatically from "exists only to perform this particular task with no individual personality to speak of" to "smarter than a human with a clear and defined sense of identity". Think of them as biological robots - some are closer to androids in sci-fi media, while others are more similar to roombas, but they're all classified under the same umbrella.
Breaks - Hive monsters that spawn in the void between worlds, meant to be one part training and one part punishment for Authors who break the Unspoken Rules (which are unspoken because no one really knows what they are). They can form pacts with Real creatures as well as Creations to grant them powers in exchange for the individual becoming the focal point of their hive mind, and want nothing more than to devour Realms from the insides out. 
Life Force - The energy that keeps all living creatures alive. Humans are the baseline, with a reasonable amount of Life Force that can allow for bursts of incredible strength, speed and mental processing when in life-threatening situations; Creations have about half to three-quarters the Life Force of a human, as they typically do not need to ever use it and all of their Life Force must be provided by their Author when they're created; and Authors have the abilities they do because they have an abnormal amount of Life Force that only grows larger and larger the longer they live, and the ability to manipulate it at will. Life Force can only be drained by either using abilities that require Life Force, or by spending time in a universe that is not your own. If drained, the affected creature will grow more and more emaciated before beginning to decay alive.
CHARACTERS IN THE REALM/UNIVERSE 1:
(please note that even after all this time, a lot of these guys don’t have fully solid designs - I’m more of a writer than an artist and character designs don’t mean much when you’re not using a visual medium lol. I have at least vague ideas on how all of them look and I do want to give those ocs with less solid looks permanent designs in the future, but for now???? ehhhhhhhhhhhh I’d rather focus on the writing part lmao)
THE NEWCOMERS
Lydia
Age: 16 (nearly 17)
Role in the story: Protagonist
Appearance: Chubby girl with long, wavy blonde hair, warm-toned beige skin and blue eyes. Around 5'5-5'8. Wears a long, loose grey t-shirt with cut-out shoulders and a distinctive blue butterfly design with diamond-like wings on the bottom-left corner. This matches her prized necklace, which always hangs around her neck on a long chain, and her hairclip that pins the left side of her hair out of her eyes.
Rapid-fire personality info: -One of the two protagonists of the main story.
-Calm and friendly, always trying to see the best in others. Her life's motto is very much "hope for the best and prepare for the worst".
-Deeply committed to helping people, even at the expense of her own health - definitely fits the “paragon” archetype and will do anything if she thinks it’s for the good of those around her.
-Wanted to be a therapist someday so that she could improve peoples’ lives, and reads about psychology often in pursuit of that goal. She still wants to find a way to make use of her knowledge in her new situation, but isn’t sure how.
-Grew up moving from town to town after her mother passed away from a terminal illness; as such, she’s gotten very good at reading people and figuring out what makes them tick. (She’s not always as right about them as she thinks she is, though.)
-Feels her emotions intensely, and often cries when overwhelmed or scared, much to her own frustration.
-Can’t handle horror well at ALL, which makes it all the harder for her to adjust to her new life in the Realm. She never quite gets used to Alice’s side of the Realm, preferring to stick closer to the Soldier’s Camp.
-Just wants things to be okay and for everyone to be safe and sound. This is a much more complicated goal than it sounds, but by god is she determined to give it her best shot!
-Outside of reading about things like grief counseling and psychological disorders, she enjoys photography and doing little DIY projects to decorate her living space with; definitely the type to have one of those strings of Polaroids in her room that all the old aesthetic blogs back in 2013 loved.
-Has the ability to see the memories of others through her dreams. Big side effect is that whatever memory she brings up will be re-experienced by the memory’s owner while she does so, and considering almost everyone in the Realm has some sort of trauma, she needs to be careful what she makes them re-live. She also hates it in general because she really doesn’t want to breach her new friends’ privacy, but she doesn’t have a choice in the matter.
-Died in a car crash.
SINCLAIR HELLSPARK!
Age: 16
Role in the story: Protagonist
Appearance: Dresses more like they’re from an RPG than the same Earth Alice’s soldiers came from, or at least as close to that as they could get from the local thrift shop. (Dress for the world you want, not the world you have!) The most prominent part of their outfit is a long, slightly oversized brown leather trench coat that goes halfway down Sinclair’s calves, with a strip of red cloth pinned underneath the jacket’s collar roll to mimic a cape. The coat is left open to reveal a black t-shirt and black pants underneath, the latter being ragged at the bottom hems, with a pair of brown combat boots. (I could also see them drawing fake magic circles and runes and shit on the inside of their jacket or down the sides of their pants in gold fabric paint.) They wear a belt around their waist (unconnected to their pants) with a couple of satchels on it to store things, mostly small trinkets and snacks they’ve “borrowed” over time.
Rapid fire info: -One of the two protagonists of the main story.
-Boisterous, loud-mouthed, and generally seen as a pretty cheerful person, though they can also come across as a bit overwhelming and annoying without realizing; a large ham through and through.
-Grew up in a neglectful household and were never quite able to make friends. After a bit, they gave up on trying to get people to like them (kind of) (not really) (they tell themself that, anyway) and decided to just get real weird with it in a way they personally find cool.
-Likes to proclaim that they’re a powerful sorcerer, blessed by the spirit of a dragon to seek out the world’s oddities and protect the innocent with their powers and wit; they will threaten to curse people they don’t like and claim to cast blessings on people who are nice to them, though these never have any effect. Sinclair knows it’s bullshit but it’s FUN bullshit so they don’t plan to stop any time soon.
-Has a bit of Main Character Syndrome, fully believing that their life can and will play out like a story. They try to be genre-savvy in real life and have a tendency to assign character archetypes to people around them, no matter how little they fit that role. (For example, within an hour of meeting Lydia, Sinclair declares that she MUST be their rival.)
-Impulsive; they tend to leap before they look and don’t give enough thought as to how their actions might affect people around them. They’re prone to bouts of arrogance and can’t stand being underestimated.
-Genuinely wanted to get trapped in another world before ending up in the Realm, and are one of the few people to take to the Realm like a duck to water, though they quickly learn to be careful what they wish for.
-LOVES cryptozoology and parapsychology; their back-up dream if they didn’t get isekai’d was to start a cryptid-hunting TV show. They start off as sort of a bit of an overbearing fan towards Gamma, since he’s a figure in local urban legends where Sinclair once lived and they’re overjoyed to learn he’s actually real.
-Sinclair may be cringe but Sinclair is free.
-Died in a car crash.
ALICE’S INNER CIRCLE (+ Mikayla)
Alice
Age: somewhere around 14
Role in the story: Secondary character; an integral figure in the backstory
Appearance: Takes the form of an adorable young girl the majority of the time, with skin that both looks and feels oddly reminiscent of candle wax, owlish brown eyes and straight black hair that falls to her waist. She wears an opulent, knee-length dress reminiscent of a kid’s princess/queen costume. It has a square neckline, puffed sleeves with strips of brown fabric falling to her wrists, corset lacing in the shape of a heart on her stomach, a grey sash tied around her waist in a bow on her back, and brown skirt split in the center to reveal layers of translucent yellow fabric, surrounded by gold embroidery. Sometimes, Alice's soldiers have claimed to see her hair or pieces of her outfit move on their own. This is somehow one of the least weird things about her.
Rapid fire info: -Created the Realm and has god-like powers of reality-warping and creation; she refuses to let anyone forget either of these facts.
-Childish, and acts either cheerful or annoyed about 90% of the time.
-Callous and selfish, often disregarding human suffering as ‘not her problem’ despite being one of the very few people actively bringing them to her world in the first place; generally dislikes humans and especially adults (outside of Gamma, who looks and behaves like one), refusing to allow them into her home; she’d likely do this for all humans if not for the current situation.
-The only person she seems to care about besides herself is Gamma, owing to the long history the two share together and the deep trust that’s formed as a result, which tends to surprise people thanks to the two of them seeming like complete opposites. Gamma helps Alice work through her ideas and points out flaws in her plans, especially when it comes to aspects of humanity Alice is blind to; in return, Alice makes Gamma things she thinks will make him happy and helps to keep him grounded on difficult days, even if she doesn’t fully understand what he’s going through.
-Experiments with her powers for fun, with her most common experiment being the creation of a living creature without really paying attention and then taking it apart while it’s still alive to see what she got wrong. (This is essentially the Author equivalent of life drawing. Still more gruesome than it needs to be, though!)
-Hates admitting things that she sees as a blight on her reputation as an Author (i.e. caring about people, feeling emotions other than joy and rage, wanting to do things other than create, being wrong, etc.), as she takes great pride in her status.
-Morphs into a much less friendly looking version of herself when pissed off, and is prone to having her skin melt like she’s a wax figure when sufficiently annoyed. Even in her ‘normal’ form, her skin is noticeably cold, as though she’s a living corpse, and she often grins with a few more teeth than humans should have.
-She’s basically a weird little girl who was given god-like powers by chance and then let loose on the multiverse.
-If she dies, something terrible will happen…
Mikayla
Age: Has existed for 4 years (behaves and is generally treated like she’s in her late teens/early twenties)
Role in the story: Primary antagonist; an integral figure in the backstory
Appearance: Has replaced her face with a white, porcelain mask decorated with red swirls, and does not appear to have any hair. Her skin tone matches Alice’s - pale like candle wax - though it’s mostly covered by a long, hooded, ivory cloak and the black, veined bodysuit underneath that holds her body together as she regenerates. She’s probably around 5'8-5'10.
Rapid fire info: -Alice’s Creation, meant to be the perfect friend; unfortunately, to Alice this meant ‘basically a carbon copy of myself but taller’, which wound up backfiring horribly once Mikayla learned that she didn’t share Alice’s level of control over the Realm while still sharing Alice’s massive ego.
-Cut off her face to seal her pact with the Breaks, who gave her regenerative powers and limited ability to use portals; now wears a porcelain mask as a replacement face, and uses her cloak to mask her limbs as they regrow.
-Extremely manipulative, and does not take being told “no” well; she’s a massive control freak and tends to lash out without remorse when someone goes against her wishes.
-Switches personas on a whim, going from calm and collected to rage-fueled screaming on a hair trigger when she thinks it will keep people in line. She's very unpredictable as a result, and her soldiers walk on eggshells around her in a vain attempt to keep her from lashing out at them.
-Has a personal grudge against Alice, since Mikayla views Alice simply being alive as both a threat and an insult, and Gamma, since he made many attempts to stop her from achieving her goal to kill Alice. As such, she will do whatever she can to torment and torture them - especially Gamma, as a punishment for him not joining her mutiny.
-She’s basically the most destructive kind of sadism in humanoid form. Just an awful person who takes pleasure in hurting anyone she views as a potential enemy - including those on her own side, if she thinks it will keep them under her thumb.
-Has died at least three times before the main story starts. Unfortunately, this hasn’t stopped her.
Gamma
Age: Has existed for around 8 years (behaves and is generally treated like an adult)
Role in the story: Deuteragonist; a mentor figure for Sinclair; an integral figure in the backstory
Appearance: Very tall (around 6'7-6'10), extremely pale (to the point where other characters’ narrations have remarked he looks like he’s never gone out in the sun in his life), and muscular by necessity for his job. Has black hair that’s always slicked back to his head and golden eyes that never blink with noticeable dark circles underneath. Wears a black suit with a white dress shirt and golden tie underneath. While the suit repairs itself after fights, the lapels and wrists of his sleeves are permanently tattered due to his jacket being a prototype by Alice (Alice could make him a better one now, but he got attached to the original, much to Alice’s chagrin - it’s like a family member hanging an old piece of art you did in high school in their living room to her). His skin on his arms and legs is a slightly different shade from the skin on his head and torso.
Rapid fire info: -A Creation whose guiding purpose is to protect Alice and her Realm; this quickly extended to the human soldiers once he learned how fragile they truly were. He’s tasked himself with keeping an eye on Alice’s other guards to make sure they’re doing their jobs properly, too. 
-Also in charge of the transportation of the dead teenagers from their world to the Realm. Most of the soldiers don’t like associating with him due to this fact, and a good chunk of them outright despise him for being the one to directly trap them in this place.
-Reserved, serious, and excessively secretive. That last part is largely because he’s not one hundred percent sure what does and does not unnerve humans, and so he tends to hide information he thinks might cause them distress, even if it ends up being something benign.
-Constantly researching things like anthropology, sociology, psychology and history just for fun, since he finds Earth absolutely fascinating. It’s basically an alien planet to him, and he has a deep respect for its inhabitants. Alice has joked on occasion that he’d start a human fanclub “if he had ten percent less dignity and anyone who’d join it.”
-One of the few people Alice views as something close to an equal, which is more than anybody else can say. This is due to their long history together, which according to Gamma, includes her saving his life numerous times, and led to him becoming her bodyguard to return the favour.
-Has been through Some Shit before the wars even began, and his mental health is incredibly poor as a result; he blames himself whenever things go wrong in the Realm out of reflex, tends to have extreme fight-or-flight responses to perceived threats, has a self-esteem in the negatives and copes by being almost fanatically devoted to his given role compared to Alice’s other guards. Most notably, he seems to fall into extreme panic when surrounded by the colour teal…
-Seems to have some odd abilities that it’s assumed Alice gave him, since he’s much stronger than a normal human and has a tendency to know things he really has no right knowing (the latter is thanks to him constantly hearing the thoughts of everyone around him; it’s less of a power to him and more like a sense. He fully believed this was a Normal Human Experience for most of his life, and when he learned the humans weren’t letting him read their thoughts willingly, it freaked him out badly enough that he suppressed this ability as best as he could manage, to the point where all he hears now are muted whispers unless he directly ‘tunes in’.)
-Is absolutely bewildered by Sinclair not only tolerating him but actually seeming to enjoy his presence, and he warms up to them over the course of the story.
-this man has so much going on with him I swear to fuck. he's kind of the default protagonist for anything taking place before Lydia and Sinclair show up on the timeline, and he’ll probably be in a LOT of the prompt fills lmao
-Hasn’t died yet, despite the universe’s best attempts.
ALICE'S SOLDIERS
Cynthia
Age: 17
Role in the story: Secondary character, somewhat of a mentor figure for Lydia and Sinclair; an integral figure in the backstory
Appearance: No solid outfit design just yet. (Her old outfit was designed when I was around 14 years old and included a t-shirt that said ’#SWAG’ on it. I wish I was fucking joking.) What I know for now is she has olive-toned skin and a bob hair cut, dyed a dark blue/indigo, along with grey, almost silver eyes. She likely has a muscular build out of necessity, and probably wears something simple and easy to move in in case of a surprise attack.
Rapid fire info: -Co-leader of the Soldier’s Camp; also one of the very first humans in the Realm.
-Used to be somewhat snarky with a heart of gold shining through, but the massacre that was the First Break War made her withdraw to the point that she’s become extremely stoic.
-Asked Alice to remove her memories of her past life during the First Break War so they wouldn’t hold her back; some suspect Alice took a little more than just that.
-Hard to read, and comes off as cold to most people, only really opening up to Dylan since they went through the First Break War together, and forged a deep trust as a result. She’s usually the one to push him to go and rest when he starts putting too much on his shoulders (and he’s usually quick to point out how hypocritical it is for her of all people to say this, lmao)
-Focuses mostly on strategy, supplies and upkeep of the camp while Dylan takes care of the human element. Extremely practical and a bit of a workaholic, to the point of requesting a murphy bed for her bedroom so she could use it as an office (with her reasoning being, “there’s no point in having two separate rooms when one could serve the same purpose.”).
-Is responsible for multiple quality of life features for the Camp in some way, including walkie-talkies the soldiers can use to warn everyone of potential attacks and repurposing some areas of the under-populated camp to be for storage of emergency supplies. Spends much of her time considering what she could request to improve things further.
-Almost all the soldiers see her as the Realm’s ultimate authority figure due to her strict nature - considering Dylan’s more relaxed attitude and Alice being… well, Alice - though some (like Morgan and Sydney) aren’t afraid to talk back to her if they feel like it.
-Deeply despises Gamma for reasons even she doesn’t fully understand; it seems to stem from the time right before she got her mind-wipe. He’s the only person she’ll actively lash out against, and he never so much as protests.
-Has a love of music, and if she isn’t busy working to make sure the camp has everything it needs to keep everyone happy and healthy, she can typically be found in her room, listening to music on a pair of headphones and tuning out the world. (Though, naturally, she keeps her walkie-talkie on her at all times in case of emergencies.)
-Her cause of death is unknown, though it’s assumed she was stabbed or impaled in some way due to her death scar (a large, jagged cut just below her ribcage).
Dylan
Age: 18
Role in the story: Secondary character, mentor figure for Lydia
Appearance: No solid design just yet. What I know for now is that he has sepia/brown skin, short hair, and mostly wears a faded blue hoodie over a black t-shirt and a pair of navy blue jeans. (Outfit might change with time)
Rapid fire info: -Co-leader of the Soldier’s Camp.
-Generally a relaxed, optimistic person who does his best to keep the morale of the camp high; he’s basically what Lydia wishes she could be, and he quickly takes her under his wing once he realizes how much she reminds him of both himself and Cynthia when they first arrived.
-Helps newcomers get settled in the Camp, and acts as mediator for disagreements; some joke that he’s essentially the camp’s HR guy, or sarcastically call him the “Camp’s Counselor”. Most of the younger members look up to him like an older brother, and it’s a role he’s happily taken to (largely as a way to cope with missing his family from Earth deeply - especially his younger sister, Dawn, who he was once very close with).
-Doesn’t talk about his own problems much to avoid troubling people, though most are aware that he gets severe anxiety upon hearing gunshots and will warn him if a movie or game will contain them. Everyone in the camp thinks he came out of the First Break War unscathed because of this, since he doesn't really show any signs of trauma from it. He absolutely did not.
-One of the few who spoke with Gamma before they died; as such, he’s one of the few soldiers who isn’t all that intimidated by his presence, and often goes to speak with Alice and Gamma on the camp’s behalf. One of his weekly chores is to just gather everyone’s requests and bring them to Alice’s Manor, since he’s the only one willing to do it.
-Used to be in the swim team in his school and played in a band with his two best friends - Tyler and Kieran - since the beginning of high school (he did guitar and backup vocals). He was also often among the top five highest-scoring students in many of his classes. Unfortunately, most of these skills and achievements are completely useless in the Realm, much to his chagrin.
-Still enjoys playing the guitar and regularly requests sheet music to learn new songs in his free time, as well as coming up with new ones on his own. Sometimes, he plays for Cynthia while they’re relaxing. He knows all of her favourite songs by heart at this point.
-Died in a school shooting.
Morgan
Age: 18
Role in the story: Secondary character
Rapid fire info: -Medic for the Soldier’s Camp
Appearance: Has albinism, so her hair is a very pale grey (long, but often pulled back into a bun, with lash-grazing bangs), her skin is pale and pinkish, and her eyes are red (which is actually very uncommon for people with albinism, but considering her spite towards Alice… Yeah, they weren’t always that colour). She’s noticeably tall compared to the others - probably around 5'10 - 6'1. She wears a plain white t-shirt with pale grey jeans under a long, burgundy cardigan that falls to the back of her knees in a silhouette similar to a lab coat. Her fingers and lips are permanently discolored from her death, stuck a greyish-blue.
Rapid-fire personality info: -Both a soldier and the senior of the camp’s two medics; she wants to give up her medical duties to stick to solely fighting instead, but she can’t bring herself to dump those responsibilities solely on Trinity’s shoulders.
-Had a rough upbringing where she was put under constant pressure to succeed that burnt her out, and the First Break War killed the last remnants of any optimism Morgan once had; now, she’s resentful towards the world and everyone in it for her shitty circumstances, lashing out at anyone who dares come close to her when she’s in a bad mood (which she nearly always is).
-Known for her sharp tongue, harsh criticisms of others, and tendency to estimate to newcomers’ faces how long she thinks they’ll live - usually no longer than a month - giving her a reputation for being cold and cruel. The twins have nicknamed her “The Ice Queen” because of this.
-At the same time, she is the most skilled soldier the Realm has, considering her incredible combat skill and her high amount of medical knowledge, and she works tirelessly to maintain that status; a perfectionist to her core, Morgan cannot stand being “only” second best.
-Has an ongoing feud with Sydney due to their clashing worldviews - Morgan believing Sydney’s a complete idiot who’s destined to get herself (and possibly others) killed with her thrill-seeking, Sydney believing Morgan’s a killjoy who’s dead set on making a shitty situation even shittier, especially for the newcomers who are already in an incredibly stressful position. Neither are entirely wrong, but neither are entirely right either.
-Is unlikely friends with Trinity, due to Morgan appreciating her dedication to her unwanted role and far better bedside manners, and Morgan does her best to keep her abrasive side to a minimum around Trinity to keep the kid from getting scared of her. Every day, Morgan resents the fact that Trinity ended up in the Realm at all, and she’ll do whatever it takes to keep her from suffering any more than she already has. (There might be a little projection happening there...)
-Isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty if it ends the war faster; to Morgan, the ends ALWAYS justify the means, especially if that end is a future where no one in the camp needs to suffer anymore.
-In what little downtime she allows herself, Morgan can usually be found reading fantasy novels in the camp’s library. Every now and again she’ll also paint with Trinity, if the kid invites her.
-Died of hypothermia
Sydney
Age: 16
Role in the story: Secondary character
Appearance: Has sort of amber-toned skin that’s patched with burn scars from her death, most prominently covering much of the right side of her head and almost the entirety of her hands and forearms. Since the right side of her head can’t grow much hair anymore, her short brown hair is styled into a comb-over, and she has light brown, orange-toned eyes. Wears a black leather jacket over a yellow shirt (which likely has some sort of flame pattern on it that gets covered up by the jacket) and shorts with spiked studs on the left side, with purposefully-ripped black leggings underneath.
Rapid fire info: -A former delinquent with a love of fire who fights Breaks with a nailbat (and occasionally flamethrowers) for the thrill of it all.
-The most Chaotic Good member of the team by far; she doesn’t give a shit about any rules if it means having a great time with her friends. She's decided that if she's stuck in a bad situation, then she's gonna have fun with it and live each day like it's her last.
-Has the most prominent death-scars of any of Alice’s soldiers, and while she was pretty self-conscious of them when she first arrived, she doesn’t really care anymore, proudly wearing outfits that have them on full display. It’s half posturing to make herself seem more badass, and half Sydney trying to show newcomers that their scars are nothing to feel ashamed of.
-An adrenaline junkie at heart. When there aren’t enough Breaks to fight, Sydney will start doing stupid stunts to get the same rush, much to Morgan’s intense chagrin; this directly led to their ongoing animosity in the Main Story.
-Helps train newcomers alongside Dylan; newcomers often see her as a cool big sister figure, but don’t tend to look up to her as much as they look up to Dylan, thanks to Sydney discouraging it and being far more irresponsible in general. 
-She’s kind of the “if I just keep moving at all times then my problems can never catch me!!” type, and tries not to dwell on bad situations any longer than it takes for her to make a shitty joke about them.
-Has always had a certain love for fire, but the stressors of the Realm have turned it into honest pyromania; it’s well-known that when Sydney’s under a lot of stress or incredibly pissed off, she’ll gather random shit and start a bonfire somewhere out in the forest. She is single-handedly responsible for Alice forest-fire-proofing the woods around the camp.
-Is good friends with Troy and Bianca, and she often shirks her duties to hang out with them. They can often be found either in the Main Hall’s living room area watching movies, or in the Hall’s hidden rec room playing different party games with them. (Sydney adores action movies and fighting games the most, along with FPS games.)
-Died in a house fire.
Trinity
Age: 13
Role in the story: Secondary character
Appearance: Looks even younger than her age, with many newcomers mistaking her for being 10 or 11. Has fawn, freckled skin, and dirty blonde hair that’s always pulled into a tight braid over her shoulder, along with deep green eyes. Wears a short/cuffed-sleeve, green button-up shirt with a darker green scarf covering her entire neck, and khaki shorts with cuffs that just barely scrape the tops of her knees.
Rapid fire info: -A girl who turned out to be a medical prodigy, brought into the Realm when they needed medics most - which is all very convenient, isn’t it? :) As of the 'present day’ in story, she’s the junior of the two medics. 
-Extremely timid around people - especially strangers - due to a history of severe bullying; it can take a newcomer weeks to hear her voice for the first time. However, she takes comfort in helping others and is prone to showing a slightly more confident side of herself when doing her job due to the sense of agency it provides her.
-Very self conscious of the bruise on her neck left by her death, often hiding it with a green scarf that also acts as something of a comfort item to her.
-Since she’s easily the youngest and most fragile member of the camp, all of Alice’s soldiers are extremely protective of her, doing whatever they can to keep her away from danger - Morgan especially so, to the point where she’s known to push Trinity away from people who may be dying so that Trinity doesn’t blame herself later if they do pass on. 
-Tries to push Morgan to be less of a jerk to everyone around her; this works, but only when Trinity’s around, much to Trinity’s chagrin. Still, Trinity hopes that one day, Morgan can find some semblance of happiness, or at least peace. 
-When she’s not in the infirmary, Trinity can be found either in her cabin painting, or in the greenhouse with her sketchbook. Natural landscapes and plants are her favourite subjects, and working on art helps to soothe her nerves. She’s pretty good at it for her age, too! Morgan’s cabin is full of her artwork, and she’s also given a couple pieces to Dylan and the twins. 
-Died after falling out of a tree. 
Troy
Age: 15
Role in the story: Secondary character
Appearance: I’ll be honest, I have basically nothing for this kid. I know he probably has shaggy ginger hair, and pale, freckled skin. He’s also probably pretty scrawny. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got for now. I kind of just imagine him as your average freshman tbh, lol
Rapid fire info: -Bianca’s twin brother
-The Realm’s only marksman, due to both how close-quarters Break combat tends to be, and due to Alice not wanting to constantly be using her energy to create ammo (and also to limit the amount of people who can kill her from long-range, should that ever become a problem). He uses specially-made airsoft guns that shoot pellets containing an Alice-made substance; it’s harmless towards humans with a sedative effect after around three to five shots, but an extremely potent acid when used on Breaks. This is largely due to the other soldiers fighting with melee weapons, along with one of their best fighters (Dylan) having trauma surrounding firearms; these guns were specifically made to look and sound different enough that they don’t set off any triggers for him while still being effective long-range weapons, though they do still make Dylan nervous to be around. 
-Troy prefers machines and weapons to people; he can often be found tinkering with various devices around the camp or maintaining his guns to ensure they’re in tip-top shape. Meanwhile, he's often a bit awkward around people, especially those he's unfamiliar with, stumbling on his words and overthinking everything he says.
-The Resident Gamer of the group, with a particular love for retro arcade games. The most likely place to find him is in the camp’s hidden rec room, trying again and again to beat the nigh-impossible high scores Alice sets on each of the arcade cabinets when she makes them. He’s also a fan of FPSes and fighting games, and he and Sydney can spend hours competing to see which of them is the best. 
-Has a bit of social anxiety not helped by Bianca pushing people away from the two of them, nor the fact that they were killed by a classmate who seemed perfectly harmless and friendly at first, giving him some trust issues that he keeps firmly under wraps. 
-Knows he’s a bit boring compared to his sister and their best friend (Sydney), and it bothers him constantly, but he does his best not to let it show. He cares about both of them deeply in spite of this, especially Bianca - despite everything that's happened, she's still the closest person in his life.
-Knows that Bianca has issues due to their deaths, but doesn’t know just how bad those issues are, nor how to properly help her with them; he just does his best to be there for her and hopes it’s enough. (It’s not.) 
-Generally just wants to make the best of the shitty situation he and his sister have been dropped in and stop the wars for good.
-Died by being stabbed three times in the chest.
Bianca
Age: 15
Role in the story: Secondary character
Appearance: Has shoulder-length, ginger hair often pulled into two short pigtails, along with pale, freckled skin and green eyes. Wears a large headbow shaped like a bat, along with a short-sleeved, almost retro-looking, knee-length, plain black dress with a red belt. The belt holds a large pocket knife, as well as a small sack full of throwing knives, in case of an emergency.
Rapid fire info: -Troy’s twin sister
-She and Troy were killed in the same incident - one that Bianca feels responsible for, as she’s the one who trusted their killer the most. Not only that, but she was forced to watch her brother die while being helpless to do anything to stop it. This has led her to become severely over-protective of Troy and extremely paranoid that anyone around them could turn out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing without warning. 
-Acts cheerful and air-headed around other members of the camp despite this; while part of it is a ploy to get people to underestimate her, it’s mostly genuine - a bit of her old self peeking through the cracks. 
-Has a fixation on knives as a result of her death, seeing them as something powerful, but only as long as they’re in her hands. She’s even been known to threaten people she sees as threats to Troy at knifepoint, though she’s never followed through when called on her bluff. If anyone else wields a knife against her, she panics, sometimes even to the point of passing out.
-Came to trust Sydney after one such incident, where Sydney made it crystal clear to Bianca that she wasn’t about to hurt either of the twins. Looks up to the older soldier quite a bit, and she’s the only person Bianca full-heartedly trusts to be alone with Troy. 
-Was just beginning to really experiment with aesthetics when she died, and while keeping her brother around is her number-one priority, she loves to DIY new decorations for her cabin and often requests different clothing from Alice. 
-Died by being stabbed multiple times in the abdomen.
MIKAYLA'S SOLDIERS 
Dawn
Age: 18
Role in the story: Secondary antagonist
Appearance: I don’t have much for her just yet. What I know for now is that she has sepia/brown skin, eyes that are so dark brown they’re nearly black, has long hair tied into several braids tucked into a ponytail, and probably wears entirely black. I like the idea of her wearing a caplet of some kind. 
Rapid-fire info: -Mikayla’s first success in creating a ‘general’ for her army, through a torturous process that involved trapping Dawn in a series of ever-worsening nightmares that only Mikayla’s intervention would save her from. (Fun fact! This is heavily inspired by a pixel animation on YouTube called Marenol, as well as the song O Light by KikuoHana.) 
-Much like Cynthia, her experiences have left her severely withdrawn and seemingly emotionless, though Dawn is much more apathetic and blunt. She’s become a woman of few words, only speaking in short, clipped sentences when necessary. 
-Has grown resentful of her brother, Dylan, as after his death she felt he had to fill his shoes to keep her family happy; considering that Dylan was naturally gifted in a lot of different areas, this led to Dawn spiraling when she couldn’t live up to those same lofty expectations. 
-Half-believes Mikayla when she says the Soldier’s Camp is inhabited by Alice’s Creations and not real humans; as such, Dawn can be ruthless and cunning on the battlefield, though she hesitates to actually kill anyone. 
-Is deeply terrified of Mikayla, largely because she knows full well that Mikayla could trap her back in the looping nightmares at any point if she messes up. 
-Once each sibling learns that the other is in the Realm, they’re gonna be in for a rough time… 
-I don't have much for her yet, largely because I really wasn't sure what to do with her before this rewrite.
-Committed suicide. 
The Oracle
Age: 17
Role in the story: Secondary antagonist/character 
Appearance: A malnourished girl with unruly brown hair who wears a long white nightgown at all times. Her body is wrapped with bandages, the most notable of which being around her eyes; taking the facial bandages off is not recommended, as it typically results in the Oracle shrieking until they’re returned. 
Rapid-fire info: -A failed experiment of Mikayla’s to get a human to use Life Force the way an Author can, largely in order to create someone capable of seeing into the future. In some ways, she did succeed, though she absolutely destroyed the Oracle’s mind in the process. 
-The Oracle has lost all sense of self, forgetting her past life entirely and becoming incapable of truly perceiving the present when she isn’t being directly spoken to. As a meager form of coping, the Oracle has dedicated herself entirely to the idea of ‘destiny’, viewing it almost like a god. 
-Seems to view Lydia as a kindred spirit, which freaks Lydia out a bit. It makes her worry that her own powers could end up leaving her in a similar state (though that’s largely because Lydia doesn’t know what exactly led to the Oracle’s powers). 
-There isn’t too much to say about the Oracle, largely thanks to her playing a small role in the story and her lacking much in the way of personal agency for much of it due to her circumstances. 
-Cause of death unknown; assumed to be suicide. 
ALICE’S TEAM OF GUARDS: 
The Serpent
Age: Has been around for about three years. 
Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol
Appearance: A massive snake made of dark grey stone, about twenty feet long, with a human-like hand where the tip of its tail should be that it uses to hold onto the door to Alice’s Garden. It has two curved horns on the top of its head and a mouth full of sharp, stalactite-esque teeth. Its eyes glow different colours based on the feedback it's received; in its neutral state they’re light purple, when a riddle has been answered correctly they glow red (because Alice wanted to fuck with people, basically), and when someone has failed its test they glow bright green. 
Rapid-fire info: -A living security system Alice set up over the door to her manor. At first, the Serpent only tested a creature’s ability to speak before allowing them passage, but Mikayla proceeded to alter the Breaks so a few could mimic human speech, so Alice altered it to tell riddles instead. If you fail three times, you’re eaten alive, and while it does slowly assimilate its victims into the raw meat that makes up its insides, any unfortunate human consumed would die of dehydration due to how long this process takes. Thankfully, Alice can typically figure out if a human’s been eaten within a day or so, and will usually get the Serpent to spit them out. She won’t help with the acid burns, though - that’s not her problem as far as she’s concerned.
-Largely lacks a personality, as it doesn’t require it to do its job. However, it does seem to have some opinions, as it respects Gamma quite a bit as the lead guard and has a mild distaste for the gargoyles’ antics. 
-Will gladly answer questions asked to it (once its riddle is solved, of course), though its answers can be cryptic and lead to even further questions. 
-Is the main reason Alice’s soldiers really don’t like visiting her manor, since it freaks them the hell out (and to be fair, the threat of being eaten alive would do that to most people). 
The Gargoyles (El and Ar) 
Age: About three years old. 
Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol
Appearance: They basically just look like dragon-esque gargoyles, made of the same grey stone as the Serpent, that are about the size of a large dog. Each has gemstones for eyes, with El’s being sapphires and Ar’s being rubies. (Fun fact! These two were inspired by two identical lion statues my grandma has outside of her house, framing her front door, though the irl statues are MUCH smaller than the gargoyles.) 
Rapid-fire info: -Created to guard Alice’s Manor personally once the human soldiers got their own camp, as well as clean up the mess left behind after Break attacks. They have pedestals outside of the Manor’s front door - El sits on the left, Ar sits on the right. 
-Absolutely inseparable, mostly because these two have a single brain cell to share between the both of them and it spends all its time thinking about meat. They have a penchant for speaking in unison and finishing one another's sentences. 
-Both of them have identical, almost manic personalities, and it would be impossible to tell one apart from the other if not for their differing eye colours. 
-They’re basically the Realm’s janitors, eating leftover Break flesh once attacks finish to keep the Realm (and especially the Soldier’s Camp) nice and clean. The humans aren’t big fans of them, due to their winning personalities, and Gamma shares this opinion, largely thanks to the two of them shirking their duties more often than not to go hunting in the woods together. (Alice thinks they’re funny little guys, though.) Fortunately, they’ve been specifically programmed to find the taste of human flesh repulsive. 
-The best way I can describe them is that they have seagull vibes. They’re like if you made a seagull the size of a dog and gave it the ability to speak. 
Diver
Age: Less than a year old
Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol 
Appearance: Its head is a massive, seven-foot-tall brass antique diving helmet, from which three immense tendrils made of some sort of black sludge protrude. It has no sensory organs to speak of, but it seems to be able to navigate just fine, even getting a bit too close to humans it gets curious about as if to get a better look at them. 
Rapid-fire info: -Alice originally created this funky thing as an experiment, then liked it so much she gave it its own fountain in her backyard and made it a guard. 
-Has about the same mental capacity as a toddler, and is prone to doing odd things when it gets curious about something; is known to climb on top of the Manor’s roof and stretching up as tall as it can in order to see outside of the walls surrounding it, which is mostly just seen as a nuisance. 
-It still has the craving for Break flesh, like most of its carnivorous peers. It can absorb any organic material it wants through its sludge, though it seems to be able to choose what it does and does not want to assimilate into itself, as it doesn’t consume things like grass by moving over it. 
-It isn’t allowed outside of the Manor’s walls like the gargoyles are - largely because Gamma fears it might consume a human if given the opportunity and wants to keep a close eye on any interactions it might have with them, just in case - and as such, the other guards need to regularly bring it Break flesh to feed on. (Something the gargoyles like to “forget” to do so they can keep it all for themselves.) 
Blitz
Age: Has existed for a little over eight years
Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol
Appearance: A mis-match of parts from different Earth animals, with the body and fur of an adolescent black lab that hasn’t quite grown into their paws yet, a feline head, a fox’s tail and large ears similar to a lop-eared rabbit’s. The tips of his tail and ears are white, as if they were dipped in white paint. Blitz also has a small clock embedded in his forehead (and maybe on his shoulders and flanks as well, haven’t decided yet), and through the gears you can catch glimpses of his brain. 
Rapid-fire info: -Calling Blitz a ‘guard’ is a bit of a misnomer, but he doesn’t really fit in any other category (aside from Alice’s Inner Circle, but it felt misleading to put him above Cynthia considering his unimportance to the narrative); he’s the first permanent Creation Alice ever made, and he’s around largely to be a companion creature, though he’s really just chilling. 
-Has no tongue (Alice got so caught up making sure the rest of him was perfect that he gained consciousness without one), so he’s easily mistaken to be more animalistic than he is by the humans, but he’s really got the mind of a small child and can communicate telepathically with Alice and all of her Creations with ease. Alice could make him a tongue, and has offered in the past, but Blitz prefers this. 
-Has not aged physically or mentally since his creation because he simply does not want to. Because of this, Gamma treats him like a beloved younger sibling despite Blitz technically being older than him by several months, even reading the little guy bedtime stories regularly. The affection is mutual, as Blitz admires his ‘Big Brother’ a whole lot. (Enough that Blitz uses he/him pronouns purely because Gamma does and Blitz thinks Gamma’s cool.) 
-Blitz is almost as curious about the humans as Gamma is, mostly out of childish wonder at these strange new beasts in his home, but Alice and Gamma won’t let him go outside any further than the Manor’s gardens since he’d be easy Break food. He’s very happy in the rare times that humans do come and visit. 
-Completely desensitized to gore and the like thanks to spending most of his time around Alice ever since he was made, but does get extremely sad when one of the humans or one of the guards die; he doesn’t fully get the concept of death, but he understands it just enough to know that it means he's never gonna see someone again.  -Quite literally exists to sit around being cute. He’s very good at it!! 
Some Random Timeline Bullshit:
Order of Arrival To The Realm: Cynthia (4.5 years before the main story (BMS)) -> Dylan (4 years BMS) -> Morgan (3.5-4 years BMS) -> Sydney (3 years BMS) -> Trinity (2.5 years BMS) -> Bianca + Troy (6-8 months BMS) -> Lydia + Sinclair (start of main story)
The First Break War happened around four years before the main story, lasting about a year and leading to the deaths of almost a hundred people. The Second Break War happened around a year and a half before the main story, lasting around six to eight months and leading to the deaths of a little over a dozen people.
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waluigisgaybf · 6 months
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Im really tempted to just unfollow both those two old friends I posted about earlier, tha I adored and then randomly unadded me on everything :( cause I miss them both individually so badly, and I want to keep following them both to be able to support and reblog their art when they post.........but at this point seeing their posts- art or not- is just making me feel really fucking shitty and sad all over again :(
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msgexymunson · 7 months
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Shotgun
Description: you're on a camping trip with your two friends, and the scariest guy from school: Eddie Munson. A few beers and some weed change the way you look at him however. Maybe he's not so scary after all. Cocky, oh yes, but not scary. Especially the way your legs start to squeeze together at the sight of him. But, does he like you, or is this some cruel game to play on the innocent band geek? 
A/n: do I have 10 WIPs? Yes. Do I have requests I'm working on? Also yes. So logically, I started a one shot from a smutty dream I had, that turned into a freaking long one. Enjoy!
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll feed you to the fishes. Very smutty, a bit of angst, hella fluff! Reader is AFAB, cocky!experienced!Eddie x Virgin!band geek!fem!reader, very slight dub con in the beginning (touching over panties, explicit consent not given), female fingering receiving, dry humping, female oral receiving, p in v protected sex. 
❤️Reblogs are what keep me going; they keep Tumblr going, and my little black heart beating. Reblog my work and I'll love you forever sweetheart. ❤️
12.5k words (oops) 
Masterlist
"You know you guys can't handle this shit!" 
Eddie laughs, nearly spilling the beer cradled in his hand. 
Steve rolls his eyes, chucking his beer top into the campfire you guys had set up for the evening, the paint sparking briefly. 
"Come on Munson, pass it round, quit being a bitch." 
"Yeah Eddie, share the love!" 
Robin giggles as she clutches her chest dramatically. Shaking your head, you shift uncomfortably on the ground. It's not that you haven't been around this sort of stuff before, people you weren't too keen on have smoked once in your company. It wasn't even a moral thing, you were just a little scared of the effect. That, and the fact you were sitting right next to Eddie Munson. 
Eddie, the guy you've literally been frightened of since you saw him leaping on tables in the cafeteria. That was some time ago, and Robin had assured you he was a good guy. You trusted her judgement completely, hence why you'd even considered going camping with the three of them for the weekend. It didn't help the fact that you were just a band geek, not used to these sorts of get togethers. Hell, your closest friends played chess for fun. This was so out of your comfort zone that you felt like a deer in headlights. Only a week ago you had your first beer, at 21; the proper age. Now you were sucking back a brew in the woods at night, sitting next to the drug dealer of the area. 
It could just be the beer talking, but Eddie looks good right now. Every time he shook his mane of hair out of his face it had you biting your lip. He threw his head back when he laughed and the sight of that stretched neck of his had you clenching your thighs, feelings bubbling up that you'd never felt before. 
So when his hand reached out and his fingertips grazed you, a blunt pressed between his thick ringed fingers, you gasped, pulling your hand away as if it had been burned. 
"Come on, take it." 
Your tongue feels thick and swollen, sticking to the roof of your mouth. Words. Think of words. 
"Can't you, erm, pass it the other way?" 
"No, it always goes to the left sweetheart." 
Sweetheart.
Glad the low light hides your blazing cheeks at the pet name, you dip your eyes downward for fear of them exposing you. You played the flute for Christ's sake. This was not your thing. 
"I-I, well, I-" 
"You not smoked before?"
Robin's voice cuts through the myriad of noises in your head, making you turn violently. 
"I just, I never-" 
"Look at me." 
Those words from him sing through your nerves, making you forget any thought you had, or anticipated. As you turn, Eddie's dark eyes bore into you. 
"You trust me?" 
No. A thousand times no.
"Yes." 
"Come here." 
He shifts and gets up on his knees, joint pressed between pouting lips as he lights it again, the cherry blazing almost as hot as your blood right now. You mimic his movements, rising on shaky thighs to kneel in front of him. 
"Right, I'm gonna take a pull, and blow the smoke, when I breathe out, you breathe in, 'kay?" 
His words are sweet, and a little condescending, an edge of talking down that just stirs up your insides further, guts a puddle. 
"Okay." 
He cups his hands to his face, gesturing for you to do the same. Raising your shaking hands, you touch them delicately with his. He flips his hands so they are on the outside, cupping yours, pushing them together with a lot more force than you did. 
He's close, so close. Your breath hitches in your throat, those deep eyes a couple of inches from yours. Heat radiates from his body, your skin itching almost from its blistering warmth. That could just be from the fire. Or the fire in between your legs. 
He smells good. There's weed there, sure, and the beer you've all been drinking, and some aftershave you couldn't place, maybe bergamot? An undercurrent lies beneath it all, of man and skin, that makes your toes curl. 
He breathes into you then, the swirling smoke trying to escape your cupped hands. 
You inhale deeply, focusing on the feel of Eddie's rough hands, on his touch. You breathe in until there's nothing left and hold it. His eyes don't leave yours, sparkling in the fire light. 
The exhale hurts more. Breathing out smoke, you revel in the fact you didn't cough or startle. The feeling of him letting go of your hands is far worse. 
A ringing, whooping noise finally reaches your ears, between the sound of your own blood pumping. Robin and Steve are cheering like morons, but your gaze doesn't leave Eddie. 
"There you go. Good girl." 
Damn. 
A sharp intake of breath pulls into your lungs and straight to your heat. The pure shock and desire those two words drew from you have you dropping backwards, butt slamming into the pine needle dusted ground. 
"Hey you OK?" Robin's hand on your shoulder distracts you briefly and you flash a weak smile. 
"Sure, just went to my head a little, I'm good." 
Eddie's hand reaches over you, passing the blunt to Robin. You dare not look him in the eye, fearful that everything you felt was written all over your innocent face. Out of your periphery, you can tell he's facing you. Suddenly the fire was extremely interesting. 
Robin has a couple of tokes, and tries a third when Steve waves at her. 
"Quit hogging it!" 
"OK, don't get your panties in a twist!" Passing it to Steve with a loud huff, he takes it and breathes deep. And promptly coughs his guts out. 
Robin and Eddie cackle, and even you can spare a giggle at the irony. 
"Told you Harrington. Even the little band cutie took it better than you!" 
"Fuck off Munson." 
Hell, he knows who I am. And he called me cute.
This is Eddie. Scary, metal head, drug dealer Eddie. Eddie who all of a sudden stirs your insides up and makes your head dizzy. Eddie who you now realise is actually goddamn gorgeous. 
Eddie takes a hit and turns to you. 
"You wanna try smoking it sweetheart?" 
Heart hammering in your ribs, you manage to speak. 
"C-can you do, that thing, again?" 
His smile is dipped in sin as he scoots nearer to you, and you copy him. Suddenly this seems more intimate, sitting on the ground, twisting to face each other, inches away. He takes a hit and holds it, gesturing at you to lean closer. The way he tilts his head, you could almost believe he's going to kiss you. This time, he cups your face, blowing smoke at you. It's so close his lips brush yours ever so softly. 
You're not sure if your inhale was intentional or a shocked gasp, but in the smoke goes. 
Did he mean to do that? 
One look into his eyes tells you yes. There's a cockiness to his grin, the devil dancing across his face. 
So, did he do it because he likes you, or is he just messing with you? Only Eddie knows the answer to that. 
You exhale, less than an inch from his full lips. Time stops. That is until Steve and his loud mouth break the spell. 
"Come on, get a room you guys!" He practically yells, throwing a twig in your direction. 
You snap your head away from Eddie and stare at Steve with wild eyes. 
"I-I wasn't, we- we weren't-" 
"We weren't? Well, that's a damn shame."
As you glance back at Eddie he's leaning on propped up elbows, looking so sure of himself that it's annoying, bordering on making you angry. 
Cheeks flooding with warmth, your mouth forms words without checking with your brain first. 
"Y-you know what you are Eddie?" 
He tilts his head at you, still smirking, and gestures a hand willing you to continue. 
"A cocky mother fucker." 
The grin falls from his face as he looks at you in shock. Robin and Steve practically piss themselves laughing at your sudden outburst. 
"Shit Eddie you better watch out!" Robin laughs out. 
"Yeah, that kitty's got claws dude." Steve agrees. 
Embarrassed at your own words, you risk glancing at Eddie. You were expecting him to be upset, angry even. That's not the case; he looks impressed. 
"Shit, yeah, I can see that. Didn't know you had it in you sweetheart." 
Smiling to yourself, you stretch your legs and wiggle your feet. You impressed him. Your turn for a smug smile. 
Pretty soon the high starts to settle in; a warmth seeps through your bones and a tingle spreads from your head into your body. It feels like you're quivering whilst sitting still. Steve offers you another beer but you turn it down, well aware that being too foggy right now would be a bad idea. Especially since Eddie has been creeping closer. Now you're side by side, hips so close any time he moves he brushes against you. 
The fire dies down, turning to embers. The beer coat has vanished, leaving you shivering. Steve and Robin are already under a blanket; you can see Robin's eyes are close to closing. 
"You ok there sweetheart? Cold?" 
"I-I'm O-OK." 
"No you aren't, you're shaking." 
Without a further word he's taking off his jacket and putting his arm firmly around you. Whatever space there was between you has melted away, sides now flush. 
You could say the same for your face. This may well be the closest you've been to a boy. Well, a man. He drapes the jacket over the pair of you, covering your crossed legs and his lap, and rubs his hand smoothly up and down your arm to warm you. Little does he know how much he's warming your insides, each stroke sending a buzzing desire through your limbs. 
Steve's chatting away; yet another story about Dustin spilling from his lips when you feel Eddie's other hand snaking underneath the jacket, coming to rest on your thigh. 
Eyes wide, you flick your gaze towards him. 
"What are you doing?" You whisper urgently. 
"Just warming you up sweetheart." 
He says it so sweetly, yet it belies the movements of his hand, moving further up your leg to run soft circles just underneath the hem of your skirt. 
You can't hear a word Steve is saying, unable to concentrate on anything but Eddie's touch and the whooshing blood in your ears. No one had ever touched you like this, not once.  
Robin's shrill voice breaks through the fizzing in your head; once again her and Steve are arguing over something. You might have heard Vickie being mentioned but you can't be sure. 
Eddie's hand trails higher, within reach of your panties. Breath catching in your throat, you mean to admonish him but all that comes out is a breathy noise. 
"Eddie���" 
He rests his chin on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your ear. 
"You want me to stop?" 
You don't answer, you can't. You're frozen, unable to move, unable to make a sound lest a moan escape your lips. 
He wouldn't dare, not with Steve and Robin here, would he?
He would. 
Eddie runs a finger gently down the front of your panties. The softest touch, a whisper of a thing. Then he does it again, up and down, pressing the cotton of your briefs into your private parts. 
You can feel your insides fluttering, a burning settling between your legs, being stoked by every barely there touch. Suddenly, he presses down on something that has you softly whimpering and clenching at nothing. A tingle shoots down your legs to the tips of your toes. 
You hear a small noise; it's Eddie chuckling in his throat. It snaps you out of your frozen state and you move to get up. 
"I'm going to bed guys." 
Standing abruptly, you let Eddie's jacket fall from you as he scrambles to keep it over his own lap. 
You turn to your tent and hear Steve and Robin wish you goodnight, and mumble about going to bed soon too. 
"Night guys!" 
"Want any company sweetheart?" 
There he is, sitting with that arrogant look on his face. 
"Goodnight, Eddie." 
You say it firmly, even though your resolve is as substantial as tissue paper. Stomping over to your tent, you turn on your camp light and sit on your double inflatable bed, hugging your knees. 
Now that you're alone you realise how much that weed affected you. You feel airy, light as a feather, fingers and toes still tingling. 
It must be the drugs. 
You focus on the reality of the situation. You just let some guy touch you down there. Eddie Munson touched you over your panties. 
So why weren't you scared? Or angry at him? It's not like he asked. The fact is that  no one's done anything like that to you before, and it felt incredible. Left you aching for more. That thought was making you more frightened than anything else. 
You listen to the group slowly pad their way off to bed, rustles of clothing, mumbled 'goodnights', and tent zips. 
To the left of your tent was the huge six berth Steve had brought for him and Robin. It was fancy, you assume he 'borrowed' it from his parents. On the cusp of hearing there was bickering. You don't know how Robin and Steve became friends, or how they maintained it since they acted like an old married couple most of the time, but it seemed to work. After a few minutes soft snores echoed from the two of them. 
No sound comes from the other side, where Eddie had pitched a little coffin tent. You wonder if he's still sitting by the dying embers of the fire. He's probably smoking. 
Stop thinking about him.
You undress, only pulling an oversized t-shirt on to sleep in since your big sleeping bag is so warm. You'd bought a double one with your birthday money last year because you hated feeling restricted. It was a luxury but with all the camping you did it just made sense. Snuggling into its spacious depths, you attempt to quiet the raging hormones coursing through your veins. 
God, why is he so annoying and smug? It burned you up, but you couldn't deny how much it turned you on. 
You slide your hand between your legs, pressing hard to try and quench the fire. He did something, you're sure of it. This wasn't natural for you, movements unsure and bordering on clumsy. When you run your finger through your naked folds you whimper, and see how wet you are. Gasping, you explore further, and find that spot, a hidden nub that sends a bolt of lightning to your core. 
"Oh fuck," you breathe out in a moan, starting to rub up and down. 
"You alright in there sweetheart?" 
Oh shit, he's right outside the tent. Was he there the whole time? 
"Yeah, what do you want?" 
"I'm cold, can I come in?" 
No.
"Y-yeah." 
He unzips the tent and enters, crouching to accommodate his height. Closing the tent up, he takes in his surroundings, letting out a low whistle. 
"Pretty sweet set up you've got here, your folks rich or something?" 
"No, I just do a lot of camping with the troop." 
"Huh?" He looks confused, falling to his knees to look you in the eyes. 
"The girl scouts, I volunteer as a leader." 
The laughter that comes from him is loud and rich. 
"Fuck, you got that little innocent act down don't you?" 
It's your turn to look confused. 
"What on earth are you talking about Eddie?" 
He scoffs at you, clearly not buying it. 
"The cute little band geek thing, helping out with girl scouts. Shit, the whole 'can you do that thing again?' " He mimics your words from earlier and you flush crimson. 
"Eddie, I honestly don't know what you're going on about. I never smoked before, I hadn't even had a beer before my 21st last week. I've never even- no one's done what you did, outside." 
Eddie's jaw may as well be on the floor. 
"You're fucking with me." 
You shake your head, lips pressed tight. 
"Well, now I feel like an asshole." He huffs out, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. 
"Well maybe you should, you never asked." 
"I'm sorry, I just- I thought you were one of those freaky band kids. You kept looking at me like you were gonna eat me alive, I thought I was in for a rough night." He laughs, shooting a gaze at you. 
"Well you thought wrong." You turn your head, arms crossed firmly over your chest. 
"I'll go if you want. Want me to leave?" 
Yes. 
"No." 
A smile spreads slowly across his face, and he inches closer to you on his hands and knees, palms splayed on the foot of your air bed. 
"So, you want me to stay?" 
"No." 
"So… should I sleep in the doorway?"
A fair question, considering your answer. You laugh, looking back at him. His smile is softer, much less mocking. It's sweet almost, sanding down your rough edges. 
"Yeah, you can be my bodyguard. Protect me from bears and mountain lions and stuff." 
He chuckles and climbs over; you lay back on instinct, further away. Leaning right over you, his face is an inch from yours, hair tickling your cheek. 
"You know, I could protect this beautiful body of yours better if I was in the sleeping bag with you." 
"You don't give up, do you?" You whisper into his skin, sounding braver than you felt. 
"It was the sweet and innocent thing, did me in." 
He plants a soft kiss to your cheek, brushing your skin, and another, to the corner of your mouth that makes you shiver. 
"Tell me to stop." 
"Eddie, kiss me." 
His mouth is on your then, hot and heavy, tongue begging at your bottom lip. You give him an inch and he takes a mile, tongue sliding against yours with practised movements. Not expecting the full force of his kiss, you suddenly realise you're moaning into his mouth, hands coming to wind into his loose locks. 
He breaks away, chuckling at the way you chase his lips. 
"You know, you don't kiss like a good girl." 
Merely whining in response, you try to catch your breath. 
"So, can I get in the sleeping bag? I'm freezing out there." 
"Fine, just, no funny business." You point your finger at him, gasping when he licks it long and slow. 
"Nothing you don't want me to do." He winks, and pulls his t-shirt over his head. 
"What are you doing?" 
He ignores you, pulling his socks off and  unbuttoning his jeans. 
"I'm getting undressed. Why, expect me to sleep in my jeans?" 
You merely screw your nose up in response. Stripped down to his boxers, he clambers his lithe body onto the sleeping bag with you, all elbows and knees. Sighing, you move over to accommodate him but he wraps his arms around you. 
"Eddie, what-" 
"I'm cold sweetheart, just, warm me up a little?" 
Your heart is hammering in your ribcage with the realisation that you're entirely out of control of this situation. You allow him to hold you, and hesitantly rest your arm over him. Your head is snuggled into his neck, feeling more comfortable than you had any right to be. 
"Eddie, your legs are freezing." 
"I know! I wasn't lying, my sleeping bag's shitty." 
He pushes his thigh between yours, and you remember a split second too late that you're not wearing any bottoms. Suddenly, his bare thigh is pressed against your naked heat. You're praying to any Gods that might be listening that he doesn't notice, attempting to stay as still as possible. 
He's warming up slowly, but you're stiff as a post, trying not to focus on his thigh and the slight pressure it's putting on your most delicate parts. 
"So, you gonna tell me what you were doing sweetheart?" 
"What?" You whisper into the soft skin of his neck.
"Well, I came out of my tent to see if you were still awake, and imagine my surprise when I heard moaning." 
"N-no, I wasn't!" 
"Quit lying, I can feel your cunt on my leg." 
You nearly choke on your own saliva. 
"Eddie, you can't just say that!"
You hit him on the chest. He just laughs, dragging your little fist to his mouth to kiss it. 
"I can when you're soaking my leg." 
Opening your mouth to respond, all words escape you. Especially when he grinds his thigh against your folds. Instead of words, a whimper breaks from your lips. 
"Yeah? That good sweetheart?" 
The smugness is back, but you can't find it in you to care, not when he rocks his hips and the force of his leg sets loose a roll of pleasure. He's hard, it's pressing into your hip. 
A lean arm curls around you, his thick thumb finding its way to your chin to lift it upwards. You stare into his darkened eyes as they dart to your lips and back up. 
All resolve is dissolved like ash in the rain as you feel the intensity of his stare and the warmth of him between your thighs. You crash your lips to his desperately, hips chasing friction. When his heavy tongue slips into your mouth you respond in kind, needy and vigorous. 
He takes his thigh away and you huff at the loss, but it's not for long, not when that hand of his is stroking down your front, lightly massaging your hardened nipples and chasing down to your stomach. He cups your mound, one finger pushing down on your swollen nub. 
"Eddie." 
It's a whimper, a plea into his open mouth. Responding by biting your bottom lip softly, he dips his finger lower, circling your entrance gently. His finger slips inside then and you clench around it immediately, moaning at the foreign feeling. It's odd, yes, but it's so good that you cry out. 
"Gotta be quiet sweetheart, don't want anyone hearing me fuck you with my fingers." 
His crude words are peppering your insides with fire, the evidence of your arousal seeping out of you. Humming in response, you bite your lip, clinging desperately to his side. 
He slowly pumps his finger in and out, watching your face. You're slick jawed, eyebrows knitted tight, hips rolling with each thrust of his hand. 
"Fuck you're so tight, can barely fit my finger in." 
"Eddie, no one's ever-" 
"Shhh, I fuckin' know sweetheart. Gonna make you feel really good. Just enjoy it." 
He curls his finger inside you, incessantly stroking at something that's making your legs tense up and your insides flutter around him, the heel of his hand flat and hard against that spot again. 
"Oh my God!" You whisper urgently, fingernails digging into his sides. 
"I know baby, feels good yeah?" 
"Uh huh" you manage to breathe out as your eyes squeeze shut. 
The pressure collating in your tummy is building and building as he speeds up, finger reaching deep inside. It releases, and flows from you, wave after wave crashing down and washing away everything but Eddie. 
You muffle your cries of pleasure in the skin of Eddie's chest, resisting the urge to clamp your teeth into his flesh.
As you come down, he releases his digit with a wet sucking sound that probably would have made you embarrassed five minutes ago, but now it's just inconsequential. 
"Still with me?" He asks softly as he hugs you close. 
"Barely" You mumble; he chuckles at your reply. 
He rolls you on top of him, moving your legs so you're straddling him. His hard on is pressing firmly into your privates, your slick dampening the front of his boxers immediately. 
"Eddie, I'm not- I can't have sex with-" 
"Sweetheart, you trust me?" 
Yes. 
"No."
There's that look again, that edge of mocking that isn't making you annoyed anymore, it's making you want to pull his underwear down and slip him inside of you. 
"I'm not gonna fuck you. Not unless you want me to. Relax sweetheart." 
His hands are on your ass, moving you against him to grind on his rock hard bulge. Your eyes widen, the friction so much better than his thigh. 
He lets out a stifled moan, and damn if it isn't the best noise you've heard in your life. 
His hands trail under your shirt as you take over moving against him, feeling the shape of him under you. Tugging at the hem, he looks up at you with pleading eyes. 
"Can I- can I take this off?" 
All feelings of modesty have fled and you whip your shirt over your head and fling it across the tent. 
"Fuck, look at you." 
Leaning forward he takes your nipple into his mouth and rolls his tongue around and around. 
"Eddie, oh Holy fuck!" 
Your movements become faster and sloppy, so he grabs you by the hips to slow you down. 
"You know what I think?" He says, in between wet open mouthed kisses to your breasts, "I think you are a freak. You just didn't know it yet." He chuckles darkly, and sucks hard at one of your nipples. 
Your moan is loud and bordering on pornographic as you rut yourself against him harshly, all pretence of keeping quiet forgotten as your stomach tightens again in thick knots of pleasure. 
"Oh Eddie, I'm- I'm gonna cum oh fuckfuckfuck!" 
It all undoes at once as you release and clench around nothing, pussy throbbing with ecstasy. The bones in your body seem to disintegrate, muscles a distant memory as you flop against him. 
Eddie's not done. 
"Come on sweetheart, just a little longer." 
He encourages your hips to move again as you lay on his chest, skin glowing with perspiration. You can only grunt in response and start grinding against him again, the feeling so intense it has you clenching your teeth with pleasure pain. 
"That's it, fuck, I'm so close. There's my good girl, just, oh shit, little more." 
His praise bubbles through you and you speed up to meet his rutting hips, your slick sticking to the tops of your thighs. 
"Feel so good sweetheart, oh shit!" 
Lifting your head, you do it just in time to watch Eddie's eyes screw shut, mouth panting open with pleasure as he holds your hips in a death grip. His cheeks and neck are flushed, the vein in his neck pulsing. You press your lips to it softly, leaving feather dusted kisses over his neck and jaw as he comes down from his glowing high. 
"Holy shit." He laughs into you, kissing the top of your head over your hair. 
"Indeed" your reply is breathless as you melt into his front, attempting to ignore the stickiness. 
"As much as I'm enjoying you naked on top of me, I need to, er-" He gestures vaguely at himself with one hand. For a minute you think he's just going to go, but instead he wriggles out of the sleeping bag and whips his boxers down. 
You sit back on your heels, mouth agape as he casually cleans his spend with his underwear, wiping at the matted pubic hair. He's big; you could feel him under you but now you're faced with it you fear your eyes may bug out of your head. 
Glancing down, you can see some of his cum escaped its fabric confinement; a few drops glisten on your lower abdomen. Curiosity gets the better of you as you gather it on your fingers to feel the consistency, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. It's stickier than you thought. You bring your thumb to your mouth and suck the excess off. It's salty, and strange, but not unpleasant exactly. 
When your eyes meet again Eddie looks awestruck, staring at you with the queerest expression on his face. 
Embarrassed at being caught, you hide your hand behind your back as if scolded. 
"Sorry, was that wrong?" 
"No, fuck no," he chuckles, looking away, "just have to stop looking at me like that sweetheart." 
"Why?" 
"Hell, 'cause you're making me hard again." 
"Oh." 
You shyly put your head down and settle back down in the sleeping bag's warmth. To your amazement Eddie gets in with you. 
"What are you doing?" 
"I thought you said I could stay? Or you had enough of me?" 
"N-no, I just… well, you're naked." 
He laughs hard at that. 
"So are you." 
Nothing about this seems to phase him, but your mind is swirling around and around. You'd just had your first orgasms ever, and now you're going to be sleeping naked with a man. With Eddie Munson.  
He's so much warmer now, skin hot to the touch. Hesitantly, you rest your hand on his chest. He pulls you close, picking up your little camp light with the other hand, fiddling with it briefly before offering it to you. 
"Can you switch this thing off?" 
You reach and press the button, plunging you both into darkness. 
"Night sweetheart." 
"Night Eddie." 
********************
Early morning light wakes you, filtering through the tent fabric, coating everything in a warm glow. 
Eddie is still here, laying on his back, snoring softly with you cuddled to his chest. You'd hate to admit it, but you were glad. Glad he didn't run off in the night. Glad that last night had actually happened and wasn't just your over active imagination playing some cruel joke. 
Laying there, feeling the rhythm of his breathing, you take a second to really think. 
What was actually happening? A part of you is frightened; scared that maybe Eddie sees your virginity as a challenge. Maybe that's why he stayed? You were staying another night after all. Or maybe this is a little holiday romance, something to keep him occupied whilst he's away. You'd had one before at band camp; nothing serious, just kisses and cuddles and radio silence on your return. 
What were Robin and Steve going to say? You contemplated waking him up right now to sneak him back to his own tent, but that thought went straight out the window when you caught the sound of their tent being unzipped. 
A soft bash to your tent startles you and makes Eddie snort himself awake. 
"Hey guys I'm making coffee! Come and join us!" 
Robin sings out and walks away to fuss over the fire it sounds like. 
Oh Holy shit balls. Hey guys?? She knew Eddie was here. And if she knew, Steve knew. 
Eddie smirks down at you as you stare at him with wild panic in your eyes. 
"Guess our little secret is out sweetheart." 
Before you can say a word he's unzipping the sleeping bag and fumbling about for his jeans, slipping them clumsily onto his legs. 
"Eddie!" You whisper urgently. He just chuckles. 
"What, want me to cut a hole in the back of the tent? Tunnel out?" 
He's got a point. 
"Eddie, please just don't-" 
"Hey, I ain't one to kiss and tell, relax." 
Before you can say another word he's perching a cigarette in between his plump lips and making his way out of the tent. 
Fuck. 
You pull on your clothes hastily, a skirt and t-shirt, and slide on your sneakers, attempting to untangle some of the messy bed head that had been created during the night. 
It's now or never. 
You exit the tent, attempting to look as casual about it as you can. 
"Morning guys." 
Steve smiles at you. 
"Howdy cowgirl." 
"Hi?" 
You return his greeting, utterly confused, but by the sound of Robin shushing him violently and Eddie coughing on his cigarette you can only assume he meant something by that which went over your head. Robin breaks the tension, talking a mile a minute. 
"Hey sleepy head! You want a coffee? I just made it over the fire. Crazy! I know it took forever. It'll wake you up. Not that you need waking up you're up and about and it's early! It's not like you had a long night. Well you might have how would I know anyway here's your coffee!!" 
Seems you might have gotten a little loud, why else would Robin be breaking the sound barrier? You don't say a thing, just smile gratefully and take your coffee, entirely avoiding Eddie's eyes, and try to wish the blood away from your darkening cheeks. 
"So, we thought we might have a swim in the lake in a couple hours when it's warmer, you in?" 
Steve asks and you nod, aware your voice right now is not to be trusted. 
So, after a little breakfast and small talk about the cold last night, which you put a particular emphasis on to try and explain away your little situation, you all go and change into your swimwear. 
In your tent you lay out your usual one piece, the plain black one you always wear with the troop, and the other set. The bikini you bravely bought but never wore, deeming it far too skimpy for camp. But this wasn't girl scouts. 
God damn he's already seen me naked, come on, be brave. 
Skimpy number it is. You wear it underneath your clothes and grab a towel and a book, readying yourself to join the others. 
Eddie and Steve walk ahead, talking obnoxiously loud; something you're quite glad of. At least they aren't whispering about you. 
Robin walks side by side with you, practically vibrating. 
"Just, whatever you wanna say, say it before you explode." 
The voice that exits her mouth is so high pitched you're surprised dogs didn't start barking. 
"You had sex with Eddie Munson!" 
"I did not!" 
"Totally did, we saw you!" 
You stop in your tracks, mouth hanging open.
"What the fuck Robin!" 
"Sorry, we didn't actually like, see you see you, we saw your shadows, 'cause of the light in your tent." 
"We- I- I mean, we didn't, like, have sex, we just- did something else." You settle at lamely. 
"Are you going to? He really likes you." 
You scoff at that, continuing your walk. 
"He's just trying to get in my pants, take my virginity. I doubt he'll even talk to me after." 
Robin's hand shoots out to grab your arm. 
"Oh, you don't know, do you?" 
Feeling utterly confused, you turn to face her. 
"What are you going on about?" 
"Eddie likes you, he had a crush on you in high school. He was the one that suggested inviting you and nearly killed me when I actually did." 
Your world turns sideways in your mind; everything is upside down, thoughts smashed, memories cut to ribbons in their wake.
"Huh? How- what?" 
"He was telling Steve like a week ago, I was listening in and opened my mouth as per usual. I tried to tell you, remember?" 
You rack your brains trying to come up with answers when a light bulb switches in your head. 
"Hang on, you said Eddie wanted me to go before, didn't you? I honestly thought you were just joking with me, I didn't think he knew who I was!" 
You reach the tree line and see the two boys a little further on, just on the tiny beach leading to the lake, stripping off their clothes. 
"But he was so- so sure of himself!" 
"Oh he's always like that. Pretty sure it's an act, he's actually super sweet when you get to know him." 
You look up and stare at Eddie in his swim shorts. He'd been naked last night, but with the low light and distraction of seeing his privates for the first time you hadn't had the opportunity to really look at him all over. 
He was lean and tall, but there was a broadness to his shoulders and a sinew to his muscles that made him stand out. Tattoos littered his frame, more than you thought he had but the detail was lost at this distance. You were walking closer, still staring at him, when he captures you. Smiling that smug grin of his he holds his arms out as if on display. 
"See something you like sweetheart?" 
On the edge of shying away, you look down; but then you remember Robin's words. He's the one with the crush on you. Feeling a little braver, bolstered by that thought, you walk closer, a couple of feet away from him, and stop. 
"You look really good Eddie." 
Pulling your t-shirt over your head, you smile at Eddie's reaction. Clearly not expecting such a bold move from you, his cheeks and neck are flushed pink. For once he seems speechless. You slip your skirt off and away, kicking it to one side. 
This leaves you in your tiny baby blue triangle bikini, with delicate daisies embroidered on the hem. For once, your cleavage is fully displayed, and the ties for the bottoms ride high on your hips. You slip two fingers under each tied side and pull them up ever so slightly. 
Eddie's eyes dart down and back up again, and you swear you see him swallow thickly in his throat. 
"Well, you swimming or not handsome?" 
Without a further glance you kick your shoes off and wade into the chilly water. 
OK, keep calm, just look at him now. 
Risking a quick peek back, you see him standing gormlessly on the sand, mouth hanging open. He looks so dorky, so unlike the Eddie you've seen so far that you giggle aloud. 
Steve calls out to him, already in the clear water. He's stumbling into the lake after you then as if a fire was lit underneath him. Robin makes her way in too, and pretty sure you're laughing and splashing each other in earnest, the boys taking turns in dunking each other underwater. 
Steve keeps screaming about his hair, which just makes you all laugh that little bit louder. Soon he's moping about it and swims off surprisingly fast. Robin says she wants to dry out and wanders back to the beach to read a little, leaving you and Eddie alone. 
He swims straight to you, bodies a couple of inches apart. Suddenly the water doesn't feel so cold, warmed by the heat he seems to pull from you just by being close. That ache is there again, wanting to be filled by Eddie. You try and shake the thought away. 
"Seems a little skimpy for a scout leader," he says, gesturing at your two piece. 
"Well, I don't wear this one with the troop," you reply, attempting to look blasé about it. 
"So, wore this just for me, sweetheart?" 
You shrug, but know your eyes betray you, honesty etched into the look you give him. 
"You did, didn't you? That's cute," he responds to his own question, reaching a hand up to hold you by the waist. All of a sudden his breath is in your ear, his other hand reaching up to your chest. 
"You look hot by the way, I like the little flowers," as he says it he runs a finger over the hem of your bikini bra making you shudder. 
"Eddie," you whisper, meaning to scold him but it just comes out a little too breathy for that. 
He continues to whisper in your ear, each word sending a butterfly loose in your swirling stomach.  "Wondering if I can stay in that tent of yours again. To stay warm?" 
You laugh, turning to face him. "That's not all you want and you know it." 
"Yeah?" He comes closer, lips so close to brushing yours, holding your chin between thumb and forefinger. You clench your thighs together as your eyes flutter shut. 
"Seems you want more as well," he laughs, pulling back from you. The frown that appears on your face tells him all he needs to know. 
As he moves away, his hand drops down, knuckles dragging slowly over your nipple, already pebbled by the water. 
"Maybe later princess." 
He turns to get out of the water. Furious with how forward he just was you shout after him. 
"Eddie, you are such-" 
"A cocky mother fucker?" He shouts back, stealing your thunder. 
You clench your fists, nearly losing it treading water, and decide to swim away to cool off. 
You're finding Robin's words hard to believe. He still seems so confident; maybe his little chat with Steve was a rouse to get you here so he could tease you. If he has liked you all this time, maybe it's just a sexual thing. Seduce the band geek. 
When the ache between your thighs is lessened by the burning muscles in your arms and legs you swim back to shore and dry off, laying on your towel to read. 
It's like the universe has it in for you today. A few more pages into your fantasy book and suddenly there's a sex scene. Usually, you'd just skim over the 'fruity bits' as your mom called them but now? Now it was as if Eddie had altered your brain chemistry and you found yourself absorbing every word in detail, thighs clenched together almost to the point of pain. 
"What you reading?" 
You jump visibly and look up to see Eddie couching over you, sodden locks leaving pitter patter drips on your legs. 
"Eddie, you're dripping." 
He smiles mischievously. 
"Am I making you wet, sweetheart?" 
You roll your eyes and replace your bookmarker, putting your book down to one side. 
"Yes, Eddie, I'm soaking wet for you." 
Triumph flashes over your features as you take in his wide eyes; so shocked at your reply he's nearly choking on air. 
"You are strange Eddie. You can give it but you can't take it, can you?" 
His eyebrows raise and he attempts to cover his flustered appearance. 
"I'm just surprised, I thought you were a good girl." 
Ignoring your heart thumping hard in your chest at those words, you shrug. 
"And here I was thinking it was because you've had a crush on me since high school." 
Eddie opens his mouth, and promptly closes it. When he speaks again it's quieter, almost like he's embarrassed. 
"Who- how did-" 
"Robin." 
"Of course." 
He stares at you then, all bravado gone. A moment passes where you both try and work out what this means, what the other is thinking.
Eddie coughs and stands up, breaking the spell. 
"We're heading back to have lunch, if you wanna come." 
He walks off then, not a further glance at you. Wondering if you upset him somehow, you gather your things and head back to camp. 
********************
Later that evening, you're huddled around a campfire again having a couple of beers; or, in the case of Steve, several beers. Eddie had been civil, nice even, but there was no edge to him right now. You're not sure if you miss it or not, realising that you had actually grown fond of the push and pull between you, and that grin of his. 
He'd disappeared at one point, and returned a little later with his acoustic guitar; beginning playing a little aimlessly, just background music to your tiny circle. He played beautifully; it really was mesmerising to watch his fingers dance over the strings. 
"Play me a song, Eddie." You say, before you realise you were saying it aloud. 
"Yeah?" He flashes a small smile and you encourage him by placing your hand on his knee. 
"OK, just for you then sweetheart." 
He breaks into a rendition of Should I Stay Or Should I Go, by the Clash. You're almost certain it's a jab at you because of last night and your failure to make your mind up. You don't mind; listening to the rest of the lyrics you realise you're hoping he means more than just a little in-joke. If you say that you are mine, I'll be here till the end of time.
When he finishes you all clap, Robin as quickly as a bird's wings flutters, and Steve just a little too loudly, probably due to too much alcohol. 
"Thank you Eddie, that was brilliant." You smile softly at him. 
"No problem sweets." He moves to put the guitar away but you wave your arm at him. 
"Can I play something?" 
A sharp intake of breath rings out from Steve and Robin but you pay it no mind. Eddie looks at you like he's sizing you up. Seems he comes to the conclusion that you aren't just going to pull some rockstar move and smash it on the ground, he passes it to you carefully. 
You take it reverently in your hands and get comfortable with it, tuning the G string slightly as it was a little off when you heard it. 
An idea springs to mind and you grin deviously to Robin over the fire, a grin which is reciprocated. She knows what you're about to do. The Band Camp thing.
You start to play the very beginning of a song extremely loudly, singly wildly off key.
"Kumbaya, my Lord-" 
"Don't you fuckin' dare!" Eddie shouts, lurching a hand toward you to clamp over the fret. 
"I'm kidding!" You giggle, prying his fingers away. Robin's laughing and Steve looks like he's about to burst, swaying in his seat. 
"OK, no funny business." 
"Not unless you ask for it." You wink, and start to play what you had intended all along. 
"One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don't do anything at all…"
You lose yourself in the song, the melody. When you were younger you had just assumed it was nothing but a song about Alice in Wonderland. You knew better now, but it was fun to play and it suited your voice. 
As you came to the conclusion your eyes fluttered shut and you sang out the last couple of lines like no one was even there. 
"Remember what the dormouse said
Feed your head
Feed your head!"
Whooping and clapping finally reaches your ears as you open your eyes. Robin is going insane; Steve is shouting but it sounds slurred. Eddie just looks stunned as you pass his precious guitar back to him.
"You're incredible sweetheart." He looks genuinely impressed, staring at you with such intensity it makes you squirm. 
"It was OK, my strumming's a little sloppy." 
"But your voice! Jesus Christ, I've got goosebumps. You should sing, like, all the time." 
You laugh, swatting him with your hand. 
"I think that might get a little annoying." 
"I'd love to listen to it all the time." 
The sweet moment is broken by Robin gagging loudly. 
"Munson that was so cheesy I'm gonna hurl." 
He just shrugs, unbothered, and puts his guitar away. You didn't think it was too cheesy. In fact, you're breathless, thoughtless. The ache was settling back in, so deep in your bones there was no willing it away. It was clear; you needed him. Biblically. 
As that realisation hits you like a ton of bricks, a soft thud breaks through to you. Steve has fallen backwards, already snoring. 
"Well, looks like he needs to go to bed. Give me a hand guys." 
Eddie stands up and lifts Steve bodily round his waist. Robin and you hover nearby, but he doesn't need your help after all. 
Steve's giggling childishly, slurring words together. 
"Don' wanna go bed, wan' sing too!" 
"Sing in the morning, big guy." 
You help Robin tuck him into his sleeping bag, as Steve mumbles Kumbaya under his breath. 
Robin huffs. "I'll take it from here," and quieter, just to you, she whispers, "I'm putting earplugs in, go have fun." 
"Robin, I-" 
"Shhh you'll wake the baby. Just go, go!" 
You leave the tent and see Eddie sitting by the fire, rolling a joint. 
"Erm, Robin's going to bed too." 
"Oh?" He looks at you, quirking one eyebrow. "Are you?" 
"I'm not tired." 
That shit-eating grin of his is back, tugging at the corners of his mouth slowly. 
You sit down, right next to him, knees touching. He finishes rolling, licking it closed with a pointed tongue you can't help but stare at. 
As he starts smoking, you finally let loose what's been on your mind all day. 
"Why did you act funny with me? After I said you have a crush?" 
He huffs a little laugh, blowing smoke through his nose. 
"I thought that was obvious. I was embarrassed." 
"Really? I didn't know Eddie Munson could get embarrassed." 
He takes another drag and looks away. 
"Yeah, well it happens. I don't like people knowing too much about me. Rather come across as mean and scary and-" 
"-cocky?" 
"Ha, yeah." 
It's quiet again, but not a loaded quiet. You feel comfortable, almost enjoying the silence; just the slight rustle of pine needles in the breeze, and an owl hooting far away. 
"You want some of this?" 
Eddie's touch pulls you back to the moment, rough fingertips grazing you. The touch burns again, but differently this time. This time you melt under it. 
"Can you, do that thing?" You ask in a small voice. 
He smiles wickedly, straightening his legs out. 
"Come here" He says as he pats his lap. You straddle him awkwardly, not sure if this is what he meant, but a firm hand grabs you by the ass and shifts you closer to him so your chests are flush. 
"Like this?" You ask quietly, breathing the question. 
"Just like that baby." 
He takes a long toke and beckons you forward with one finger. When you're in range, nose lightly brushing his, he brings your chin toward him with one firm hand and presses his lips to your mouth. 
Stiffening with surprise, you quickly soften, disarmed by his lips. You part yours and he breathes the smoke into you, allowing you to inhale deeply. Breaking away, you exhale the smoke downwards and look into his deep eyes. 
"Do it again." 
He bites his lip and smiles, flashing his teeth. He repeats the gesture; taking a pull, smashing his lips to yours and breathing into you. He doesn't let you pull away to breathe out; instead he presses his tongue into your mouth. Smoke burns your nose as you submit to him, the kiss becoming filthy and desperate as he grips onto the flesh of your ass. 
Finally he lets up, if only to breathe. You're both panting, electricity in the air passing between and through you. 
"I like it like that." You smile, hand resting on his chest. 
"You keep surprising me sweetheart." He responds, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips. 
A fuzziness rushes through every nerve, all of your body crying out, singing for him. 
"You know, I don't mind cocky Eddie." 
"Yeah? I thought I annoyed you." 
"A little. But it kinda turns me on." You respond, rolling your hips into him.
"Oh fuck sweetheart," he roughly grips you, forcing you to do it again, "you drive me fuckin' crazy." 
He's on your neck, kissing and licking at you almost tenderly. 
"Eddie, please," you whisper, mind abandoning any clarity as he kisses you. 
"Please? What do you need, sweetheart?" 
How can you answer? What do you need?
"Eddie, I-I need you, please," you whisper into his ear, rocking against his hardening bulge. 
He bites down on your neck, eliciting a gasp to spill from your lips. 
"Tent." Is all he manages to say, and you stumble upwards on wobbly legs, to lead him to it. 
Fumbling for the zip, you just about get inside it when you feel his hands on you gently pushing you forward. A small touch is all it takes and you're falling onto the air bed, knees bending as you collapse face forward. 
He's on your back before you can think, firm arms caging you in from behind. 
"You need me? Really?" 
You nod, squirming underneath him, a small hand curling around his forearm. 
"Dreamed about you saying that, fuck." He whispers, lips pressing to your shoulder, "turn around." 
You can't find it in you to not comply. Wobbling the mattress, you twist to face him, engulfed in the intensity of his stare, illuminated by the fading light emanating from the fire. 
"Say it again." It's soft, but ironclad in the centre. 
"I need you Eddie." 
"Fuck" He huffs, moving down your torso, pulling your t-shirt up so it kisses the edge of your breasts. He looks up at you with pleading eyes; a look that turns your insides to mush. 
"Can you turn the light on? I need to see you." 
He sounds so desperate, so in need that you waste no time in grabbing your camp light and switching it on, bathing you both in cool white light. 
As he's pulling your top up, you assist and pull it over your head, flinging it to a corner. 
"You are really beautiful." He says, drinking you in with his eyes, as a calloused hand strokes between the valley of your breasts. You slide under his confident touches, getting more anxious by the minute. 
"Can I taste you?" 
You nod, and he unbuttons your skirt, pulling your panties down with a roughness that makes you flinch. You're entirely exposed. 
"I've wanted this, wanted you, for a long time." 
You wriggle underneath him, and reply. "Didn't you get me like this last night?" 
"This," he says, gesturing to your revealed flesh, "this is different." 
You don't quite get it and want him to explain further, but his lips are on your nipples and all that comes out of you is a heady moan. A firm knee pushes your thighs apart and you bend to his will, allowing him to kiss down, and down, leaving hot pressured mouth trails to your stomach. 
When his lips meet the tops of your thighs you cry out his name. 
He understands, slipping his tongue between your folds and licking at your clit with pointed precision. 
"Oh fuck!" 
A chuckle emanates from his throat as he doubles his efforts, flicking and suckling at you in earnest. Thick fingers tease your entrance and one slides into your glistening opening, pumping slowly. 
It shocks through your body, setting loose tendrils of pleasure so profound it's almost a religious experience. He prods another finger at you, sliding it next to the first and it burns, making you hiss. 
Eddie mumbles platitudes into your pussy, telling you how good a job you're doing, how proud he is, how you're a good girl. His good girl. 
The tension is unbelievable, clenching every muscle as your breath comes in short pants.
"That's it sweetheart, sing for me." 
The fingers curl, stroking something incessantly inside you that rips a sultry groan from deep within your chest cavity, and without further warning your orgasm washes through. It collects and expands, a force of nature that flies out and collides like stars in the universe.
Your back falls to the air mattress, and that's the only signal you have that it ever left. You feel soaked in your own juices, thighs uncomfortably wet. 
Eddie hovers over your face. You're not quite sure when he got there. 
"That OK sweetheart?" 
You don't reply, you can't. Your response can only be carnal, feeding into the biting, gnawing need that still refuses to lessen its grip on your core. Bringing shaking hands upward, you wind them into his hair and pull his face forcefully towards yours, tongue slipping in to taste your slick in his mouth, groaning at the tangy sweet flavour. 
He collapses against you, full weight of his lithe body pressed into yours, but it's not enough. Pulling away and leaving less than an inch of space you voice your frustration. 
"Eddie, please, I- I want you. I want you inside me, please." 
Eddie shakes his head for a second, then deep brown eyes seek yours for any doubt, and come up empty. 
"Are you sure sweetheart?" 
The nod you reciprocate with is painfully fast, hurting the muscles of your neck. He looks uncertain, but discards his clothes, kneeling in front of you in his boxer shorts. 
"I need you to be sure. I can't give it back." 
You let your legs fall further apart, giving him the view of you open and ready for him. 
"Please." 
Underwear has never been discarded quicker. He has his cock in his hand, sliding on a condom from his crumpled jeans at record speed. A second later and he's towering over you, nose brushing yours and dick lined up to your sopping entrance. 
His tip breaches you, so much thicker than his fingers, and you wince. You can tell he's trying to be careful, pushing into you slowly, watching for any signs you want to stop. 
You're so full, and he just keeps going. A moment later and you let out a little startled cry as a sharp pain shoots from deep inside. 
"You OK sweetheart?" He stops his movements, staring at your face with a worried expression. 
"I'm fine, just, go all the way" you manage through gritted teeth. 
He slips the last of it deep, deep inside as you yelp at the suddenness. Then, he's still, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers with his over your head, his other arm holding him perfectly motionless above you. 
"That's it, you're OK, so fuckin' tight, fuck," he says to you, kissing your cheek. It burns, the feel of him, but a fullness is beginning to overtake that ache. 
"You know, I thought you were afraid of me in high school." He half laughs, kissing the tip of your nose. It's such a sweet gesture from the so-called frightening man that you giggle a little too. 
"I was," you admit, staring into his deep eyes.
"Then, we come here and you look like you're gonna eat me alive. Then, you're all innocent, and now… fuck, I can't keep up." 
You appreciate what he's doing, talking to you, distracting you from the pain. It helps; it's settled into a dull throb and your need from him is outranking it. 
"Eddie, you can move." 
With a peck to your lips he pulls out a little and thrusts back in, setting a slow and steady pace. 
This is so much better than his hands, or his tongue. On every thrust he's massaging at something that makes you moan, again and again. 
"You're doing real good sweetheart, my good fuckin' girl." 
All of a sudden you feel it, all of it. His lean weight comforting over you, the squeeze of his fingers in yours, the throb of his member inside you, his words. It's all too much. Your eyes gloss over and a tear works its way down your temple. 
"Oh shit, you want me to-" He starts as he slows down a little. 
"Don't you fucking dare, please, please, I-I need-" 
He grins at you; that self satisfied look that turns your legs to jelly. 
"What do you need, sweetheart? Whatever you want, I'll give it to you." 
"Harder Eddie, oh God!" 
He snaps his hips into you with much more force; once, twice, three times and you scream his name, pussy clenching him hard, every muscle tense. As everything unravels you go limp, whimpering at the pulse that you can feel pounding in your core. 
When your eyes finally decide to open, he's leaving kisses as light as a butterfly's wings on your cheek. 
"Woah," is all you can say, between breathless giggles. Tears are falling but you don't care enough to wipe them away. 
Eddie unlatches his hand from yours and does it himself. 
"That was so hot. You need to do that again," he whispers, beginning to grind into you slowly.
"I nearly died Eddie, it might finish me off!" 
He laughs back, but doesn't quit; hips still driving into you leisurely. 
"What's life without a little risk?" 
You stare up at him, biting your lip, a question on the tip of your tongue that you're too nervous to ask. 
"What is it?" He asks, brow furrowed, as if you were about to ask him to stop. 
"Can I… wait, don't worry." 
He does stop then, to put his hand to your face and stroke you with his thumb.
"Hey hey hey, come on, what baby?" 
You whisper it quietly, voice small and second guessing. 
"Can I try, erm, being on top?" 
You're surprised that Eddie's face didn't split in half from the sheer wideness of his grin. 
"Holy shit, yes, please." 
He winds his arms underneath your frame and flips you so fast your vision blurs, until he's underneath you. You sit up, his cock still buried within, and you gasp at the new angle. 
"Eddie, Jesus Christ!" 
Palms splayed on his chest, you control your breathing a little. This angle is devastating, pressing harshly against that place inside that has you throbbing around him. 
Eddie chuckles darkly as his hands slide over the flesh of your thighs, rubbing back and forth, until they work their way to your hips and pull you up ever so slightly, only to drop you back down again. 
"Just like that sweetheart, 'Kay?" 
He tilts his head to one side, that mocking tone fuelling the embers of your desire. Rising up on shaky knees you pull off him and slide back down, trying to find some semblance of rhythm. Your clit grazes his pubic hair on one pass and you nearly lose it completely, the feeling sending a bolt of pure pleasure up your spine. 
"Oh my God!" 
"Yeah? That good?" 
You hum and nod, words escaping you, now rolling your hips on each bounce to get that sensation over and over. 
Eddie's talking now, watching how much you writhe and whine at his words. 
"That's it sweetheart. Wanting to- oh fuck- ride me, on your first time. Oh yes, fuck, just like that- dirty, my dirty fuckin' girl." 
"Eddie, oh God, can you, fuck, please-" 
"What is it sweetheart? Anything, you can have anything." 
His words embolden you, and before you can hesitate your hands are gripping one of his and leading it to your throat. You're not sure why, but you know deep in your core that you need it. 
Eddie looks shocked by your moments but quickly recovers, fingers slotting around your throat, squeezing lightly at the sides. 
Speeding up, feeling the pressure of his hand on your windpipe, you throw your body into each movement. 
"Fuck Eddie, harder!" 
He squeezes and you let go of everything, breath leaving you. All composure, all thought. It's just you and Eddie, and his hand, and his cock. Screaming aloud, you fold almost double, collapsing into him with a shocked, delicate whimper. 
His fingers relinquish their firm grip, coming to rest on the back of your head in a comforting, tender hold. 
"I was right, you are a freak." 
Laughing aloud, you have just enough bones left in your neck to lift it ever so slightly. He looks surprised, sure, and really aroused, judging by his hooded gaze. 
"Are you not… done?" You ask, as you feel his impossibly hard length still throbbing inside you. 
"What can I say, I've got stamina." 
That smug face is back, a flash of canines and confidence. You'd roll your eyes if it wasn't so sexy. 
No time for a witty comeback though, as he holds you close to him and thrusts upwards with abandon. Colours swirl in your vision as you try to stay attached to reality, focusing on the feel of his skin, the pounding of his rhythm, and the light in his eyes. 
"Fuck I'm close, I'm so fuckin' close. You're, oh shit, so- oh God, can't believe you're letting me do this." 
Slack jawed and practically dribbling, you let him use you to chase his own release, trying to weakly meet his thrusts. A pulse deep inside is brought to your attention, and it's not yours. Looking at his face, you watch it awash with ecstasy as he holds you tightly and throbs his climax out. 
His muscles melt, holding you still but so loosely that the lack of pressure surprises you, as if you were only aware of how tight his grip had been at this very moment. 
The only sounds are the nightlife of insects around the tent, and panting, heaving breaths. Sliding off of him in an organic gesture, you curl up into his arms, finally feeling sated and at ease. 
Lips are pressed into the top of your head, kissing you over your hair. No words are spoken; none need to be. For a shining moment, this is all you need. To be held, and cared for. 
Minutes go by, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. Before you drift off, Eddie breaks the spell cast over both of you. 
"Was that OK princess?" 
"That was incredible Eddie." 
He kisses the top of your head again, then seems to remember himself. 
"Fuck sweetheart, just, stay right there." 
Clambering to his feet he pulls the condom off, tying it in a knot and discarding it into a corner to be thought of later. He's back then, spreading your legs. 
'Eddie, you can't just-" 
"I'm just looking after you sweetheart. You got some tissues or something?"
Furrowing your brows, you point to your wash bag near the foot of the sleeping bag. He paws through it wordlessly, and brings out some tissues and wet wipes. 
"Sweetheart I'm so sorry." 
"What's wrong?" You ask, panic riding your words. 
"I've made you bleed." Eddie looks crushed, so upset at your prior pain, anguish etched into his face. 
"It's OK Eddie, it's normal." 
"You should have said. I'm so sorry." 
You laugh a little, touched by his concern. 
"I didn't know! It's alright, it doesn't hurt now." 
Placated slightly by your answer, he cleans you both up as well as he can, before slipping into the sleeping bag with you. 
A thousand questions perch on the edge of your tongue, but it's so warm, so cosy and right, that your body denies all words for a moment. 
When you feel capable of speech you look up at him. 
"Stamina, huh?" 
He flushes, looking down at your smiling face. 
"I may have tactically jerked off beforehand."
"When??" You giggle, fingers flirting over his exposed chest. 
"When I went to get my guitar." 
"Eddie, how did you know that-" 
"OK, OK!" He grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles before hiding behind it, "I didn't know, not for sure. You just looked so good in that little two piece, I couldn't hold it in." 
"Perv," you respond, but your eyes are soft. 
"Yep." 
Giggling, you slip into a calm, contented sleep in his arms.
********************
You wake up a little later than intended, no doubt exhausted from last night. The tent feels empty. Upon realising that Eddie's missing a dread settles in your stomach. Bile rises as you sling some clothes on. Maybe he's had his way with you and that's it.
Exiting the tent, you see he's just by the fire, trying to get it going again, a cigarette dangling from his pouting lips. 
"Oh would you just- come on!" He says as he angrily flicks his lighter, trying to get the wood to catch. 
You smile, relief washing over you, and walk over to help. 
"I'm begging, come on- oh, sweetheart," he looks a little sheepish as he speaks to you, mumbling around his cigarette. "I was gonna make you coffee and bring it to you but the damn fire won't start." 
You giggle, and rearrange the little pile, adding a few twists of paper to the base, and hold your hand out to him. He looks at you blankly for a second, then comes to his senses, placing the lighter in your palm. 
With one stroke the papers alight, and starting to catch the rest of the twigs. The couple of logs won't take long to catch. 
"Witchcraft." 
"Nope, just girl scouts." 
"You can go back in the tent if you want, I'll make you a drink." 
"Eddie?" 
"Huh?" He turns to you, pot of water in his hand. 
"Good morning." You smile shyly at him. He grins, placing the pot on the ground and stubbing out his cigarette. Strong arms slot their way around your waist and you fling your arms around his neck, grinning stupidly at each other. 
"Good morning. Good night?" It's framed as a question, and you know what he's getting at. 
"Great night." 
Smiling wider, he presses a kiss to your forehead. Puckering your lips to ask for a proper kiss, you hear a very loud cough. 
"Good morning love birds." Robin wiggles her eyebrows at you both. You move to break away from Eddie, but he steals a kiss anyway, and pulls you close to his side, arm firmly around you. 
"Is Steve alive?" He asks, looking at Robin. 
"Well, he got up in the night to throw up, just glad he didn't do it in the tent. He's dead to the world right now. He's been singing in his sleep you know. Nearly suffocated him with a pillow." 
You both laugh at that, and then hear a loud groan from the tent. 
Eddie glances at you with mischief and shouts out towards Steve's tent.
"Harrington! Wanna sing for us, big guy?" 
"Urgh." Is the only reply. Robin rolls her eyes and busies herself with the fire. 
After a while, the coffees are ready; you all attempt to rouse Steve but he's gone back to sleep, groaning whenever you call out to him. 
Then, it's just the sad business of taking down your tent. There's a special kind of melancholy reserved for such an occasion; pretty soon there's no sign at all that it was ever there. Afraid that your memories, your feelings, about last night would fade too, you walk over to Eddie who is perched on a stump fitting the last of his things in a bag. 
"Eddie?" 
"Yeah sweetheart?" He asks, still fumbling with his bag. 
Do you still like me? Do you want to see me after this? Was this all a dream?
"Can I get a ride back with you? Steve and Robin are gonna be a while." 
You gesture over to where Steve had finally emerged, whining and packing his stuff, tent still upright. 
"Sure, anything you need." He flashes a tight lipped smile and reaches to grasp your hand briefly. 
The ride back to town with him is chatty, even if it's only surface level stuff. Your rendition of White Rabbit had him fumbling around the glove compartment and pulling out a few older classic rock tapes that you happily listened to; music was a big part of your life, at least you both had that in common. His eyes light up whenever you talk about a band or song that he likes too, gesturing so emphatically with his hand you have to remind him to look at the road. 
Pretty soon you're pulling up to a crossroads, except Eddie pulls over instead. 
"What's wrong?" 
He huffs, smiling at you sadly. 
"If I keep driving forward I've got to say goodbye to you, take you home," he admits. Your heart flutters at the admission. 
"Where do you live, Eddie?" He looks confused, but points to the left turning. 
"Eddie, turn left." 
"Really?" 
"Really. I was supposed to stay at Robin's tonight anyway." 
His grin is downright manic as he pulls back on the road, making short work of the drive to his trailer. 
He bundles you out of the van and opens the trailer door, both of your bags heaved over one of his shoulders. 
The sight of an older gentleman startles you as he potters around the kitchen area. 
"Hey! This is Wayne, my Uncle. Wayne, this is my girlfriend." 
Your eyes widen as he gives your name to his uncle and you shake hands with him, the roughest hand you think you've ever touched, but the softest grip. 
"Pleasure to meet you, miss. I'm heading out today, so I'll see you two later I'm guessing." 
He waves and smiles fondly at the pair of you, and leaves. 
"Sorry, thought he would've left already." He explains, pulling you both to the back of the trailer and into what you assume is his room. 
Allowing yourself to be led, still feeling shell shocked, you perch on the edge of his bed as he dumps the bags on the floor. 
Eddie's talking, saying how he wishes he tidied before he left, how the trailer's not much but it's home, and his uncle…
"Eddie, wait." 
He stops mid flow to look at you. 
"Girlfriend?" 
"Well yeah? I mean, if you want to. I didn't ask, did I?" He flushes pink, hand reaching up to nibble at his thumb. 
"I mean, you don't know me, really." You shrink, almost folding in on yourself. 
"Hey," he sits down next to you, stroking your jaw with his finger, "I know enough. And I let you touch my guitar. We're practically married now." 
Lips press softly to yours, a delicate touch that has all tension flying from your body in a rush. 
"Eddie…" You whisper, giving him a butterfly kiss with the tip of your nose. 
"Hmm?" 
"You smell really bad." 
He laughs and grabs you around the waist, pulling you down sharply to lay on the bed. 
"So do you." 
"A point well made." A response, but you don't move, snuggling deeper into his neck. 
"So, I've got an idea. Let's have showers, get into some comfy stuff, and cuddle. Probably got a movie or two we can watch?" 
The normalcy of the situation is surprising, but most welcome. 
Smiling wickedly, you nip at his neck and whisper in his ear. 
"One condition: we shower together." 
He groans loudly, hands stroking at any skin he can reach. 
"Fuuuck, sweetheart, I've created a monster." 
You laugh, and hold him tightly. Eddie Munson isn't so scary, after all.
Taglist (just some people I thought might like this, hope you don't mind!)
@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonfuxks
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thebibliosphere · 8 months
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I was already on a hair trigger today trying not to snap at a mutual for reblogging a "fuck authors who use Amazon" post, but, like, this shit is why some authors can only afford to use Amazon.
They don't have the $75+ to distribute through Ingram Spark. They don't have the $25 it takes to change your files if you need to update them after they've been accepted. They can't afford to take the cost of printing hit to their sales. They can't afford to lose an additional 40% of their income to retailer discounts.
And just so we're clear, Ingram isn't a vanity publisher. They're one of the largest print monopolies in the world. They're used by most mainstream traditional publishers and indie and self-pub authors alike. Amazon uses them when their print demand is too high.
My friend, whose work is published by Gollancz, is printed through Ingram, the same as mine. The difference is their publisher takes the hit for them. In theory. We won't get into dwindling advances here or how publishers are increasingly putting the onus of marketing and sales onto their authors or the fact that their editors can't afford rent or food while the executives get richer and richer.
So what do you do when the mainstream doesn't want you? What do you do when you're told if you can't keep up with the rat race, that you don't deserve to have your work published? What do you do if all you have is the ability to tell stories for a living, and no one wants you?
Well, you could die of starvation. I'm sure there are several people on here who'd be happy if that happened to me. (I know. Because they tell me. Often.) Or, you can shake hands with the devil, knowing it's a bum deal, knowing everything is fucked, but also knowing that every other aspect of this fucking industry is just as fucking bad.
There's no escape. It's relentless.
And you've got people out there posting things like, "Actually, I think authors who charge for their books are part of the problem."
And yeah, in an ideal world, I'd be making art for art's sake.
But we're not in that world. We're in the bad place, and you're actively making it worse. You're encouraging people to steal from people who are struggling just like you and calling it activism against billionaires or putting them in the same moral category as said billionaires as though we're not trapped in this system, same as you. Some of you are fellow fucking authors. And, like, my mind boggles at what it would take to stab a fellow creative in the back like that, but here we are.
Hell world.
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neytui · 2 months
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Happy Leap Year + Happy Year of The Dragon + Happy Birthday Hiccup!!! 🎉✨
I know this is not confirmed on the movies or anything, but I guess it's the closest I can get to Hiccup's birthday so I'll take it.
I'll also take the chance to talk a lil about my feelings below, pardon meee
I've been liking httyd since it first came out, I remember being a kid and not understanding half what what's going on with the movie but there where dragons so I couldn't give a shit. I don't remeber my first time watching httyd2 but I fucking wish I did, the only one I remember watching for the first time is httyd3 cuz I went to the cinema and cried a fucking toooon, also got the only official merch I had and it's a pop corn bowl hell yeah.
Anyways, even when I have loved it my whole life, there have only been few times I've got hyperfixated on it, I think this is like the fourth/fifth time or smth, but it's the first time making content and posting :) and I didn't imagine there would be people out there who could care about it. I'm here to thank all that people, all of you thank you for liking my stuff and for reblogging with all that funny and caring tags, I read all of them, sometimes take some pictures of them bc of how much of an impact they made me feel, I wish there were a easy way to answer to them :') Httyd means a lot to me and I genuinely think it has formed some of me as a person through the years. I could write about it all day but this is getting so loNG IM SORRY, one day I could write more about it maybe, but till then, letting you know I care about this way too much and thank you so much for the support, love y'all ❤ Happy Birthday Hiccup
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irisintheafterglow · 6 months
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hi!!! could i request pro hero!bakugo & pro hero!reader where bkgs doing an interview and they ask about relationships and his answer is “I thought you people already knew that im married”
i have no idea how to word things but i hope that was readable🙏🙏
keeping it in the family
wc: 1.6k
cw/tags: swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol, established relationship, dialogue-driven
note: RAHHH I LOVE HUSBAND BAKUGO. anyways !!! i hope you like this, i did get a little carried away when writing it so hopefully it makes sense. thank you for your ask!!!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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“And we’re on in five, four, three, two…give ‘em hell.” The roar of excited applause jumbles together with the late-night show’s opening theme and the screams of excited fans can still be heard even as Kirishima flashes a blinding smile to the camera. 
“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to Heroes on Heroes! We’re so glad you’re joining us tonight, seeing as this is the finale of season one!” The audience cheers with fiery passion and it makes the three heroes onstage chuckle nervously. This was going to be a long night, especially if the superfans were crying after every word they spoke. “I’m Red Riot,” he pauses while the cheering erupts once again, “and I’m joined by my fellow pros, Chargebolt and Dynamight.” You wince from your place at sidestage from the sheer wave of noise that slams into your eardrums when the latter is introduced. 
“Thanks for having us tonight, man,” Denki grins. He eagerly drums the armrests of his chair, to the left of Kirishima. “I’ve been looking forward to doing one of these since I saw Deku’s a few weeks back.” 
“It’s a great concept, really. I love being able to just chat with you guys and shoot the shit about hero stuff. It’s so manly.” Kirishima turns expectantly to the other hero sitting to his right, whose hot-headed nature was blatantly obvious by how he was slumped in his chair, squinting slightly at the burning spotlights and clicking cameras. You admire Kirishima’s confidence in forcing Katsuki to say something. “What about you, Bakugo? How’re you feeling tonight?” 
“I’m alright,” he shrugs indifferently. Your breath catches in your throat and you can hear the Dynamight agency’s publicist put his head in his hands. “It’s been a while, so it’s good to see you guys,” he adds with unexpected fondness and you exhale in relief. His eyes meet yours for half a second and he shoots you a wink that makes your knees wobbly. “I saw that save at the bridge collapse last week, Shitty Hair. Pretty decent work.” Kirishima blinks once, twice, and then glances at Denki. Katuski’s blank look narrows into a scowl. “The hell are you looking like that for? I got shit in my teeth or something?”
“No, no. Sorry, man,” Kirishima laughs. “I just wasn’t expecting a compliment from you so early in the show.”
“Yeah, we thought we’d have to booze you up a little more to get you to be nicer,” Denki jokes and he recoils a bit when he’s struck with a molten hot glare from the hero across from him. 
“Whatever you’re about to say, bro, don’t say it,” Kirishima warns and the crackles in Katsuki’s palms gradually dissipate. “But, I’m wondering too. What’s with the good mood?” 
“I guess I feel like playing nice tonight,” he answers cryptically, his gaze flicking over to you again with amusement. You can almost sense the fainting girls falling over each other in the front row. Kirishima’s attention subtly darts over to you and a knowing smirk grows over his face. It was the first time you and Katsuki were at the same press event, since you both thought it was too dangerous to sneak around until now. “But, talk about that bridge save. I don’t think a lot of people know that the guy was wanted by several agencies.”
“Ooh, yeah,” Denki agrees with a quick sip of his drink. He swallows and sets the glass down with a light thud. “He’d been giving us hell for weeks. It's not really the best matchup for a sand villain to be going up against an electric hero.”
“It was the sand villain and his wife, wasn’t it? That chick with the melting Quirk?”
“Yep, they were a nasty couple to deal with,” Kirishima confirms. “I had to keep track of this guy’s damn sand spikes and his wife turning the floor to goop at the same time.”
“Goop is a weird-ass way to put it,” Katsuki points out with obvious distaste. 
“Yeah, but he was a pretty goopy guy.” Chuckles ripple through the audience and you can’t help breaking a smile too at Kirishima’s joke. 
“I think for me, at least,” Denki adds, “the biggest pain was the fact that they were married, and they had, like, marriage telepathy or something.”
“Bro, I thought that was just me! Here I was, thinking that I’d incapacitated one and split them from the other, when bam! Both of them appear in front of me like a damn genie.” 
“You ever have to deal with villain couples, Bakubro?”
“Nah, not recently. We’ve been doing a lot of big raids on all the crime families downtown.” He flexes his right bicep and pulls back the sleeve of his shirt to show a gnarly purple spot growing on his skin. “Got this little beauty three days ago from a neo-Hassaikai asshole.” You're not fazed by the ugly shade of the wound because you were the one who stitched up the...less visible results of the raid.
“Jeez, man,” Denki says in disbelieving awe at his friend’s injury. “If you ever need backup, we’d love to do a team up with you.” 
“I think I’d rather die–”
“My agency would also love to team-up with you,” Kirishima interjects before Katsuki can finish his thought. The heart rate monitor of his publicist begins to rapidly beep behind you. “We can have a threeway team-up! That’d be pretty cool, don’t you guys think?” 
“What if we all just merged into one big super agency? Like a big family?”
“That sounds like the stupidest shit–” Again, Kirishima cuts off Katsuki’s brash protests and saves them from being taken off the air.
"That would be so awesome."
“Would that mean we’d have to get pro-hero partners, too? Keep hero work in the family?”
“I think Salonpas would have heart palpitations if we said we were trying to keep hero work within the family,” Katsuki points out and his friends nod in agreement. “On another fuckin’ note, that Half-and-Half idiot keeps hogging the number two spot and it pisses me off.” Though you didn’t often encounter Todoroki while you were on patrol, you knew that he was adamant about keeping work life and family life separate. It made him even more of a dedicated hero and a recent bust of a notorious crime ring bumped him into the number two spot over Dynamight for that month. You didn’t hear the end of it from Katsuki. 
“He and Deku just work really efficiently, Bakubro.”
“I can efficiently slam both their skulls into a–”
“You know what would solve that problem?” Denki butts in unceremoniously, covering up his harsh words for a third time. Katsuki grunts in response and the lightning-decorated hero gives him enthusiastic finger-guns. “Combining and making a family agency.”
“What are the chances that Sero would want to join too?”
“Probably pretty high,” Kirishima guesses. “He’s at my place every other week, anyway, so he’s basically my brother.”
“Alright, maybe this could actually work, then. I just need to find a smoking hot hero wife.”
“That’ll probably be the hardest part, buddy–”
“What about Bakugo?” You stiffen and the three guys turn their attention to a voice calling out from the audience. Speaking during the interviews was strictly prohibited until the question and answer section, but getting Katsuki’s attention was a surefire way to derail the entire episode.
“The fuck do you mean, what about Bakugo? Who the fuck said that?”
"Dude, just ignore them."
“Can’t be a family agency if Bakugo never gets into relationships,” the same nasally, irritating voice argues and your face feels like it’s been set on fire. Kirishima’s attention jumps to you for a moment and then back to his friend, whose palms are starting to spark like fireworks. “Do you just get no bitches, or something?” The audience gasps and security finally arrives to escort the disturbance out of the building. The director is ready to stop the cameras and jump to a commercial break, but Katsuki speaks before he can order the sound crew to cut the mics. To everyone’s surprise, his voice is nothing but amusement, like the insinuation didn’t bother him in the slightest. 
“You think I don’t get into relationships?”
“Bakugo…”
“It’s alright, Pikachu. I really don’t give a shit about whatever that guy said,” Katsuki reassures his friend with a sly glint in his eye. His friends watch him warily, like a grenade on the verge of exploding. Once again, burning red eyes meet yours with a single question that you answer with a resolute nod. “I’m not gonna blow up, so stop looking like that. Really, I don’t care.”
“Why not?” A tense beat of silence passes, then–
“I thought you people knew that I’m married.” A shit-eating grin spreads across your husband’s face as gasps of shock burst from the audience. Kirishima and Denki both shake their heads in exasperation. They knew already, of course, but they didn’t expect him to reveal his relationship status as a result of a heckler. “Yep, going on a year and a half, now. Around five years together total coming this winter.” More collective cries of jealousy, surprise, and betrayal shake the building’s foundation. "If you don't believe me, ask these guys."
"Yeah, we were at the wedding, too. It's hard to keep it a secret when all of your friends are also high-profile heroes."
“Can you guys believe that he fell in love during the winter?” Denki’s thumb juts out toward his friend, who frowns at the mere mention of cold weather.
“I fucking hate the winter,” he grumbles. 
“We know, man,” Kirishima says sympathetically, unsuccessfully hiding a chuckle. “You’ve been saying that since high school.”
“Yeah, and shit hasn’t changed,” Katsuki bites back with lighthearted indignance. “Look, they saved my ass when it was cold; how was I not supposed to fall in love with them?” To your delight, his complexion has turned a slightly darker shade of pink. “Yeah, I love them. What about it, asshats?”
“Is this a bad time to bring up the family agency again?”
“Let’s go to commercial before I blow this fucking chair to pieces.”
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if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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hoshigray · 7 months
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⋆♱ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 ✮ 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢-𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 ♱⋆ | a JJK series
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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: hi hello!! so like, yeah, this is late bc I didn't plan on doing any kinktober stuff since i got shit irl to do. BUT, after some thought and some creative bursts of energy, I figured "ehh why not." So, I'm not setting the dates as life can be unpredictable, but here are the things I'm doing/have done for the month!! Think of this more like a book list than a prompt list tbh
reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⋆♱✮♱⋆ transparent edit made by me + header art by yuto sano + fic dividers by the amazing @cafekitsune!!
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𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑻𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌, 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎...
All the material below contains 18+ content, so minors do not interact.
☠︎ = ficlet/scenario | ♱ = fics
☠︎ 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 (true form! Sukuna x fem/afab! reader)
☠︎ 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 (dom! Nanami x fem/afab! reader)
♱ 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! (serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader)
Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.
☠︎ 𝐓𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐞, 𝐔𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 (rigger! geto x fem! reader!)
♱ 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 (vampire bf! Choso x fem! reader)
Finding out your boyfriend's a vampire was far from the chill evening you planned with him. But you can't lie, imagining those fangs sinking down on and sucking on your skin....it's kinda hot.
♱ 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 (ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader)
Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?
☠︎ 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 (Toji x fem! reader)
♱ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (Carrie inspired! Gojo x fem/afab! reader)
Taking a loner like you to the prom was, at first, an easy bet for the most popular kid in school. What he didn't expect, however, is to fall madly in love with you — and how that love brings hell on supposedly the best night of senior year...
This is all the stuff for this month. Thanks for stopping by!
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𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝑱𝒐𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉'𝒔 𝑳𝒂𝒊𝒓?
Would you wish to be tagged? Please lmk in the replies or in my inbox!
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 ⋆♱✮♱⋆ These tales have been transcribed and written by the original poster (me). Do not steal, edit, copy/plagiarize, or post any of my works on your own accounts, in or out of this app. Please and thank you.
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drewstarkeyyslut · 23 days
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POLAROID GIRL📷 ᡣ𐭩
Summary: rafe wishes to take polaroid pictures of you after sex and he always gets what he wants ✨
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut (p in v), oral sex (throat fucking), choking kink, daddy kink, use of slut/whore, reader gets slapped on the cheek.
A/N: don’t mind me as i will be posting my fics from my old blog on here all over again throughout the week or so since i can’t just reblog them bc they are completely gone from there… starting off w/ my most popular fic🥺
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You and Rafe had been making out, your tongues clashing and clothes being thrown on the floor. You were left with only Rafe’s favorite lingerie set on.
“Wait. I just had an idea.” Rafe beams, looking you up and down.
“What is it Rafe?” you shift nervously beneath him, not knowing what was going on in that head of his. It literally could be anything with him and that made you nervous.
“Just thinkin’ for a while actually but uh, how about I take some polaroids of you after I fuck you senseless…yeah?” Rafe implored with a devlish smile.
You weren’t exactly comfortable with taking photos completely nude. Shit, not even with the lingerie on either. Not that you were prude or anything but you’ve never sent nudes in your life to any man, ever. You look at him, dumbfounded as if you weren’t sure you heard him correctly.
“Come on baby. It’ll be fun, you know you can trust me” Rafe insists giving you that look you couldn’t resist. He basically jumps off the bed before you could answer him and walks towards the dresser to grab your polaroid and sets it on the nightstand.
At this point you roll with and decide to be spontaneous in the moment. You did trust him with your life. He barely let anyone look at you fully clothed so he sure as hell wouldn’t let a soul get their hands on polaroids of you completely naked and fucked out.
“Hmm actually…you know what babe? Yeah, fuck it” you bat your lashes and shoot him a wink.
“Yeah?” Rafe automatically reaches for the polaroid.
“Want some shots of you in that lingerie too” he winks.
You get on all fours as you arch your back towards Rafe as he snaps a photo, getting a good shot of your plump ass.
“God damn. You are the sexiest girl ever, y’know that? I’m lucky as fuck” Rafe stated, giving a slap to your ass.
“Ohhh stop it Rafe! I’m the lucky one here. Have you seen yourself?” You chime in.
“Yeah, yeah whatever you say just take the damn compliment princess and keep posing f’me” Rafe rolls his eyes.
He proceeds to take multiple shots as you pose for him until his dick starts growing painfully hard in his boxers. You notice this as you keep eyeing his bulge. He pulls his boxers off, cock springing free and slapping his stomach with a string of precum dripping off the tip.
“Fuck, baby. Look what you do to me” he moans.
“Soooo big Rafe, n-need your cock right now” you whimper, drooling at the sight of his hard cock.
Rafe hovers over you, arms caging you in.
“Yeah? I want to watch you fall apart” Rafe whispers in your ear.
“Well fuck me like you mean it then daddy” you smirk.
“Take this shit off now.” he demands, eyes darting to the lingerie on your body.
“Yes Ra—“ he doesn’t even let you finish.
“Nah, you’re going to regret that sweetheart.. you know what I want, y’know what to call me.” Rafe’s eyes darken.
“Sorry d-daddy I-I didn’t mean to” you stutter, quickly throwing your pamties off and unhooking your bra throwing it on the ground.
“There you go. That’s my good girl” Rafe takes a good look at your bare figure as he slips two fingers in your pussy.
“Mmm, all wet and needy f’me already huh? Do I really have that much of an effect on you?” Rafe teases, pulling his fingers out of you and sliding them into his mouth devouring your slickness.
Rafe offers no warning as he lines up to your entrance shoving his cock so deep into you making you scream. You shift beneath him completely caught off guard at the feeling of his cock stretching you out to the hilt. He grabs your wrists and pins your arms above your head.
“Ah ah, stop squirming ‘round slut. You can take it, I know you can. Take this cock like the whore that you are” Rafe grits. He continues to thrust, slow and deep into your cunt, making sure to hit your g-spot at just the right angle.
“It’s too much daddy, too big for me, don’t know if I can take—” you cry.
“It’s too much daddy” Rafe laughs, mocking you. He lets go of the grip on your wrists, wrapping one hand around your throat and the other hand grabs your leg throwing it over his shoulder.
This new angle drove him wild, it gave him a whole different feel of your pussy.
“Pussy feels so fuuuuckin’ good, love watching my cock slide in and out of this wet cunt. So tight, and grippin’ me so damn good baby” Rafe grunts.
Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, his cock sending you into a state of euphoria.
“Mhmm, pussy is all yours daddy, all yours to fucking ruin and do as you please” you whine, nails digging into his back leaving crescent moons and scratches.
Rafe is pounding into you at a faster pace now, movements getting more rough and sloppy.
He loved watching you cry, moan and scream beneath him. It turned him on even more seeing you in such vulnerable positions taking his dick so well.
“Oh my god, right there! RIGHT THERE Rafe! Feels sooo good, p-please don’t stop! m’gonna cum for you daddy!” you moan as you hit your climax, shaking and squirting all over him.
Rafe pulls away from you. “Shit, look at that, you drenched my cock you slut.”
“Want you to taste yourself. Get up. On your knees now.” he orders.
You do as he says getting on your knees. Rafe settles down in front of you. His length at full attention right in front of your face, exactly right where he wanted it. He grabs the back of your neck pushing you towards him, your lips now brushing the tip of his cock.
“Hey, hey. Look at me baby” he mewls, hand grabbing your chin.
His hands travel towards your throat giving it a good squeeze, the other hand grabbing his length giving it a little tug and without warning he shoves his dick in your mouth. You choke, gasping for air as you try to pull away.
“Stop movin’ take this cock in that pretty little mouth….yes, fuckin’ just like that, tastes real good hmmm?” Rafe teases giving your cheek a firm slap.
He’s holding your head to keep you still as he continues to roughly pound his cock into your throat. You couldn’t help but moan sending vibrations to his dick. You loved when Rafe used your mouth for his own pleasure, sure you couldn’t breathe, and he was brutal but it turned you on.
His thrusts start to get sloppy. He’s sweating, cheeks are flushed and his bangs clinging to his forehead.
“Shiiiit, m’gonna fucking cum. Oh fuck. Here it comes baby. Swallow all of it, you slut, every single drop” Rafe grunts, more profanities spilling from his mouth and moans filling the room.
He gives you no time to breathe as his hips buck and his warm seed shoots deep down your throat.
“Mmmm so so good daddy, always taste s’good” you praise.
Rafe just stares, completely enamored by you. In his eyes, you were absolutely still beautiful after being fucked out and ruined.
“My god, you’re somethin’ else. You pretty little thing. Pose for me baby girl.” Rafe kisses your forehead and gets off the bed.
He grabs his boxers and puts them back on as he grabs the polaroid once more snapping a few photos of you.
You were kneeling with your legs spread apart with your hands placed on the bed in front of you. Your hair is in shambles, makeup running, cheeks red, eyes still teary and drool dribbling off the sides of your mouth. Rafe takes another moment to admire you.
He suddenly grabs his pants off of the floor and pulls out his wallet.
“Babe, what are you doing? Are you going somewhere or something?” you ask curiously, giving Rafe a pouty look.
“No, no princess. Don’t worry. Umm, just… putting this sexy thing in my wallet for keepsake to remind me what I have waiting for me at home.” Rafe responds with a wicked smile.
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tagging some moots: @drudyslut @rafesthroatbaby @babygorewhore @oceandriveab @rafescurtainbangz @anqeliclust
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