#not bad considering i don't know this song ( tunes ).

[undiscovered-horizon]

(tw for mentions of nudity)

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[After days of travelling, fighting and sleeping on rocks, a rest at a tavern is well-earned. Not feeling up to taste the nightlife with your friends, Halsin and you retire early. The evening turns into something heartfelt and domestic as you wash his hair and hum a song he's grown all too familiar with.]

The hot water against your skin is pleasant enough to elicit a chuckle of euphoria from you. It seems like a lifetime ago that you last had a warm bath. In some way, it was.

People downstairs are making good use of their money, time and energy - that you're sure of. Their music and laughter resound brightly but it's muffled by the walls and floors of the tavern, making it sound like the party is not mere meters below you but entire worlds away; almost like a memory of a banquet you're desperately trying to recall.

Despite not being used to the comforts of the city, Halsin was quick to accept your offer of shared bath. Perhaps it was the sharing part, more than the bath, that had convinced him. In any event, his broad back is resting against your chest, although judging by the minimal weight put on your body, you know he's holding back in fear of hurting you. Maybe one day you'll manage to get your point across that you would love to be smothered by the weight of his body.

As your thoughts wander further and further, you don't notice the soft melody escaping your lips. But Halsin does and the enigma of the tune he's grown to associate with you only makes him crack under the burning curiosity:

"You often hum this song to yourself. What is it?"

Only then do you finally hear your own voice. Have you really made a habit out of this? Suddenly flustered, your cheeks begin to burn. You've done nothing wrong and yet you feel embarrassed like a juvenile petty thief.

"It's something the washwomen back home used to sing while working," you explain awkwardly. In an attempt to steer away from the conversation, you reach for the cup next to the washtub. You did, after all, promise to wash his hair. "The river carried their voices, making the song audible pretty much everywhere."

"Would you mind singing it for me?" he asks, hesitance vibrant in his voice. Halsin must have noticed your sudden timidness and didn't want to push on but some part of him longed to hear the song so deeply ingrained in your mind.

You clear your throat. The lyrics first leave your mouth in a shaky voice, unsure whether your singing is pleasant enough for Halsin to want to actually hear it, but soon you let the comfort of the well-known melody take over your hesitant mind.

In my garden grows a rose Little Mania, go water my horse I can’t, I won’t, I’m afraid of the horse I fear the horse because I’m young

Halsin lets out a quiet sigh of relief as you pour the warm water over his hair. He smells of pine needles, sweat and mud but it's a good smell - it's the smell of someone who survived. And considering the strange course your life has taken these past few months, staying alive is the best thing that can happen.

In my garden grows rosemary Tell me, Mania, who’s the one that charmed you? Johnny’s eyes, Johnny’s eyes For they fell in love with my heart so much

The druid feels... odd. Not in the bad sense, of course. Perhaps "unfamiliar" would be a better descriptor. He's not used to having someone care for him in such an intimate, selfless way. After suffering so many losses in his life, Halsin doesn't quite know how to comfortably enjoy a triumph of sorts. Underneath the superficial pleasure and indulgement, lies a bottomless ocean of anxiety. Part of him expects this love to be short-lived like most affections in his long life.

His senses are overtaken by the dizzying aroma of lavender and rosemary as you carefully brush the oils through his hair.

In my garden grows a berry Tell me, little Mania, were you young? I was as young as a berry in the woods Like a berry in the woods, my love

Halsin doesn't often let himself dream and fantasise. It's better to expect nothing than to allow unrealistic scenarios to break his heart. However tonight, in the twilight of the chamber and with your soft breaths brushing against his neck, he lets his thoughts explore:

Years from now, if both of you manage to survive the upcoming series of misadventures, would this bathing be part of a routine? Dare he picture - after having put your children to sleep, would you regularly brush your fingers through his hair? Would you allow him to do the same for you? Just when he thought his heart could not swell more, the fantasy of a domestic life by your side made him ache. Something so sweet, something he's inhumanly desperate for, appears both out of reach and as the cure for his soul.

A thrilling shiver overtakes his body as he feels your nails gently scratch his scalp.

In my garden grows a lilly Tell me, little Mania, will you be mine? How do I know and tell you? How do I know if my mother will give me away?

Hot water is poured over his hair again. It feels just as good as it did before, if not better. The tension in his muscles dissipates, along with the soreness of day-long hikes over mountains and fields.

Then, Halsin feels your arms wrap around his midsection, your bare chest flush against his back. The hug is tight enough for him to be overly aware of the way your torso moves as you breathe calmly. Soft exhales brush against the warm skin of his shoulder. Perhaps it sounds a little cheesy, but to the druid, your smaller frame fits his bigger one perfectly.

Is this what being loved feels like?

"I know you're a man of virtue and honesty, my love," you murmur against his shoulder, "but can we lie a little and pretend we're still soiled and stay in here for a moment longer?"

His body shakes slightly as a chuckle rumbles in his chest. It still feels hardly believable that someone of your sort to seek his companionship. If he ever rejects your affections, he will have to be under a powerful curse.

"It brings my heart much joy to know you hold me in such high regard," he answers. One of his hands reaches for your palm, cradling it with almost fearful carefulness. Then, in an equally tender manner, Halsin places a chaste peck on the inside of your wrist. "Albeit, I am also faithful to nature."

You giggle when Halsin captures your lips in a passionate kiss. He's quick to turn around, water spilling out of the washtub, and trap you underneath him.

__

Gale's version right here!!

#halsin x reader #gn reader #halsin x you #halsin x tav #bg3 halsin #halsin bg3 #baldurs gate halsin #bg3 companions #halsin #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic

[greenboyfriend]

choose a fantastic green thing (tarot reading)

"what do you need to know?" image 1: ahh, a classic. woman with fish. iridescent fish, no less. image 2: women want him, men want to be him. whether you love him or hate him, you can't deny... he is a bug. image 3: the bowl. image source not everything may resonate with you, and that's ok! take what does & leave the rest. don't force it.

1.・。.・゜✭

hello friends. what a nice pull! you may be giving or receiving a gift as an act of charity or kindness. it seems like you’re unaware of something, but it’s not a bad thing. consider it blissful ignorance. it may be wise to stay in this state, shunning negativity/corruption. also, some of you may be dealing with children/ a child? maybe someone is having a baby?!

nevertheless, you’re trusting your intuition at this time, and it’s serving you. however, you may be a bit apprehensive about a change/transition you’re going through. know that it’ll happen no matter what you do! you’ll have to eliminate excess one way or another, cutting down to the bare essentials. it’s scary to go through change where you’re unsure what will happen, but you’ve got to do it at some point.

and anyway, you’ve got your intuition at your side. tune in with yourself however you know best, whether that be taking a walk outside, listening to your favorite song, etc, it will help you to regroup.

being sympathetic and loving towards others will also work in your favor. try to open up, and give others what you would like to receive yourself. “forgiving and forgetting” may also be relevant for some of you.

(6 of cups, death reversed, ace of cups)

2.・。.・゜✭

holy FUCK, you need to pump the brakes. holy FUCK, whatever it is, SLOW THE HELL DOWN!!! four of swords literally came flying out of the deck before i even got the chance to shuffle. take this as the universe/your future self urging you, begging you, pleading on hands and knees, to CHILL OUT!

yes, we all know you are very determined and forthright. yes, we all know it, and we all know that has turned out very well for you in other situations. however. at this point, you’re gambling whether things will go your way, and you can tell. loosen your grip on those reigns! resting ain’t so bad!! not every moment needs to be jam packed with activities.

i feel like you know that, but you don’t want to accept that it’s true, or can’t. despite this, you’re feeling the effects. the 10 of swords spells exhaustion & burn out– finding yourself depleted, full of swords, and on the ground (in vain); all the while, the call for action has not even arrived yet. 

consider yourself. if you need to have a goal, think of it this way: how can you most effectively relax? what activities (or lackthereof) will make you feel the most refreshed when the time comes to get moving again? in a sense, take all the anxious energy you’re feeling, and put it to use by taking care of yourself. you’re not going to be able to succeed in the way you want to if you’re completely exhausted from ignoring your own needs.

so relax! if you’re not sure how, beg the universe for help. that’s what i did, and now, i have a cat. 

(the chariot reversed, 4 of swords, knight of swords, 2 of wands, 10 of wands)

3.・。.・゜✭

your cards strike me as very sweet, my bowl lovers… after going through a trauma in your past, you’re working towards healing by opening up to those around you. now is a great time to be intimate, and not just in the romance way! maybe you’re interested in moving forwards with this, but you aren’t sure which path (which person/people, perhaps) to take. not to fear, however!! page of cups is here! let your heart/intuition lead you, and don’t be afraid to have some fun with it.

consider your emotions exactly as they are: does this person make you feel happy? secure? take your knee jerk reactions and mix them with your observations. after that, the choice should be clear.

six of swords is not always the most fun of cards (typically denoting healing, sloughing through the slop, ect) but trust that where you’re going certainly is… a blast, that is!! it may be a celebration you’re heading towards, but more than anything, it seems like you’ll gain a new sense of freedom. with the page of cups and six of swords present, this is likely how you approach your feelings & relationships, and how they’ve been impacted by your past. expect to shed some light on these patterns, and even overcome them entirely!*

these last two cards cement this message. if you go after what you want, you’re certain to meet success! it can be scary, and it might take a while, but keep trying! you can do this!!!

*for the time being, anyway. progress is not linear! sometimes it's 2 steps forwards to go 1 step back and that's ok!!!

(4 of wands reversed, page of cups, 6 of swords, 7 of cups reversed)

(pulled later: 6 of wands reversed, page of pentacles)

Ws all around my friends

#tarot #tarotblr #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #pac #spirituality #witchblr #spiritual #witchcraft #witch community #pick an image

[ofstarsandvibranium]

He's A Pretty One: Part 2

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: You’re visiting your cousin in Hawkins for the summer and you meet his very pretty and very rebellious friend and bandmate.

A/N: this became another impromptu mini series. There will be one more part after this!

Part 1

Gareth led you inside the seedy dive bar that he, Eddie, and the rest of the band play. The Hideout is remote from everywhere else, wedged in between an abandoned steel factory and a cornfield.

You try to keep a neutral face as you observe the few patrons, the dirty carpet, the tables and counters that look like they haven't been wiped down in decades.

Towards the front of the stage is a small wooden stage that looks like it could collapse any minute. At said stage, Jeff, Doug, and Eddie are bringing in their instruments and equipment.

"So this is the Hideout?" you ask even though you know the answer.

Gareth nods, "Yup! Isn't it great?!"

You snort and pat his shoulder, "Sure it is, Gare."

"GARETH! STOP CHIT CHATTING AND HELP!" Eddie yells from the stage.

Your cousin groans, "He's in a bad mood," he mumbles to you before heading towards the stage.

You stand there looking around the place and figure you could grab a drink. You walk up to the bar counter where a five-foot tall woman with maroon hair looks up in confusion.

"You're not a regular," she states plainly.

You cock a brow, "No...I'm not. Don't know if that's a good thing or bad thing."

The woman rolls her eyes, "Did you want something, kid?"

"Well you don't seem like you'd serve martinis here so I guess I'll take a beer."

The woman rolls her eyes again and grabs you a bottle of Coors and twists the cap off.

You turn and take a sip, leaning against the counter while the guys set up. Your eyes move from Gareth, Jeff, Doug, and finally land on Eddie. His brows are furrowed as he tunes his guitar. You're not sure what is it but he seems even hotter right now. Maybe it's the low lighting of the bar or maybe some weird chemicals from the old factory are getting in your system.

Feeling eyes on him, Eddie looks up and sees you staring his way. He smirks and gives you a wink before continuing to tune his guitar.

"Be careful around that one," the woman at the counter says.

You turn around and face the woman, "Whaddaya mean?"

She scoffs, "Just be careful around him. Junior's just like his dad. No good."

"No offense, lady, but I'm not sure you're a great judge of character considering," you gesture to the run down bar.

The woman looks at you unamused, "Just watch yourself around him."

"Around who?" Eddie asks, taking a spot beside you at the counter.

You smirk as you face him, "Word on the street is that you're bad news, pretty boy."

Eddie grins, "Bad news? Me?" he stands back, arms open wide, "Look at me. I'm an angel."

"So was Lucifer before he fell from Heaven."

"Touché," he states and you watch as he checks you out again with no subtlety, "So, we're all set up. You ready?"

"Like the goddess Pat Benatar once said, hit me with your best shot, Munson."

Eddie takes your hand and brings you to the front of the stage. He hops onto the wooden platform and yells into the mic, "Welcome to the Hideout, everyone! I'm Eddie Munson and we're Corroded Coffin!"

Gareth slams his drumsticks together and then begins to play with the rest of the guys.

You nod your head to the beat, eyes never wavering from Eddie as he sings and plays his guitar. He truly is mesmerizing when he's in his element.

As he sang, he kept his eyes on you. To be fair, there wasn't anyone else he could really look at besides the few drunkards littered around the bar. You're definitely the most attractive person here, aside from Eddie.

___________________________

After a few more songs, Eddie thanks the "crowd" and they end their set. He immediately hops down from the stage after gently setting down his guitar. He waltzes over to you with a proud grin, "So?"

You nod, "Not bad, Van Halen. You got a lot of potential."

"Thanks. There's someone who actually wants us to sign with a record label she works for, but we need to record a demo, which costs money. Hence me working in this shit hole," he gestures around and the woman yells from the counter, "I CAN FIRE YOU RIGHT NOW IF YOU WANT!"

"Sorry, Bev!" he looks at you with a shrug, then nods to the bar, "Can I get you another drink? Or I can make one for you?"

You scrunch your nose up, "I'm good. Not sure if your boss there cleans the cups well."

Eddie chuckles, "Oh they're clean. I'm the one who does the dishes, not Bev."

"I'm good with this for now," you lift your beer bottle, still not finished because you were so focused on watching Eddie perform.

Eddie stuffs his hands in his jean pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet, "Sooo...whatcha doing after this?"

"Going home? Eddie, it's almost midnight."

"So? There's the diner downtown that's open late. Just drop the brat off at home and we can go."

"Where are we going?" Gareth asks with a smile.

"You're going home. Eddie and I are gonna hang."

"Hang or ba-"

"Do you actually want know if I'm gonna bang your friend, Gareth?"

Your cousin grimaces, "God, no! Gross! Disgusting!"

"Get a grip, kid," Eddie shoves Gareth by the shoulder and your cousin stumbles back.

"Jeez. Okay. Well, we're packing up. Can I see your keys?" Eddie tosses him his keys and he goes to help Jeff and Doug lug the gear to Eddie's van.

You lean against the bar counter and look at Eddie with a cocked brow, "So, pretty boy, is what Bev says true? You trouble?"

"Only the best kind of trouble," he replies with a look that just makes you melt inside.

"Alright. I'll bite. Meet me back at Gareth's then?"

"See you then," he gives you a wink and goes back to the stage to help the rest of the guys put away the equipment.

_____________________

Back at Gareth's, you're rushing around the guest room trying to fix up your hair and touch up your makeup. You made sure that you wore the least embarrassing bra and underwear, just in case.

Your cousin stood in your doorway pouting, "I hate this."

You stop and sigh, "Gareth, we're literally just going to the diner downtown. We're not getting married."

"Okay just...make sure whatever this is doesn't effect my friendship with Eddie."

"Pretty sure it'll end up being just a one night stand, which I'm fine with. And you know me, I don't make things into a big deal. Does he?"

"Not really."

"Then you should be fine."

You hear a soft knock at the front door and rush out of the room. When you pull open the door, Eddie staring at you with a grin, "Ready?"

"Yup!"

You turn and ruffle Gareth's hair, "Don't stay up too late, Gare."

"Yeah, yeah, and use protection. Don't wanna be an uncle yet!"

You give him a thumbs up and head to Eddie's van. He opens the passenger door for you and closes it when you hop it.

He promptly slips into the driver's seat. As soon as the van roars to life, Metallica is blasting through the speakers. He drives away from your aunt and uncle's, looking at you with a mischievous grin on his face. Something is telling you that this is a night you'll never forget.

Part 3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #f!reader #fem!reader #female!reader #eddie munson imagine

[emelinstriker]

Knockout ♤ Your New Car

Y'all be gettin a gif for him cuz I couldn't find a good jpg. Also I hate how rushed my old TFP one-shots feel omg-

[TL;DR] Knockout decides to personally take up the job of driving you after an encounter with some bullies.

♤ ~ Comfort ~ ♤

Knockout was driving towards your school, just like any other day. His alt mode's radio was playing one of your favorite songs as he hummed to the tune. He wasn't thinking about much, other than having some fun time hanging out with you later. His day was also pretty good, considering he didn't have to deal with Megatron's orders or even Starscream's nagging. He was pretty happy and content as he sped down the road, seeing the school building from afar.

However, that happiness was short lived once he noticed you talking to some other humans. They were laughing while you seemed like you were about to cry. As he got closer, he was finally able to hear what was being said.

"...And your car is an absolute waste, honestly. I mean, where did you grab it from? The scrapyard?" The boy laughed again, making his goons laugh.

Furious, the mech decided to step in. Knockout slowly drove up next to where you parked your car. You looked up at the sound of an approaching car. Recognizing your lover's alt mode, you were a little bit more relieved with him now here. The bullies stopped laughing as a rather handsome man got out of the driver's seat.

"Sorry for the wait, doll. Driving your car was just too much fun. It's so fast and you did such a great job buffing it!" He complimented you with a smirk... It was mainly just his ego taking over as he described how great his actual looks were, but you didn't mind. You usually buffed him in his alt mode after all, so at least you could take part of the credit.

He walked over to you. "Thanks for letting me use it. And thanks for taking care of my own." The mech in disguise turned towards your car, the one the bullies were making fun of. Honestly, your car wasn't all too shabby. Maybe buff it here and there, but it looked decent enough. But it clearly wasn't made for speed, unlike his alt mode. The group of bullies was silent. They couldn't believe you owned an Aston Martin. They thought you were the owner of the cheaper-looking car!

"May I still use it till we get home? I just enjoy the thrill." You looked at your bullies, then back at your Decepticon guardian with a small smile. Once you nodded, Knockout leaned in to kiss your forehead, not bothering to go lower in front of those other filthy humans. They don't deserve to see the amount of affection he usually gave you.

Knockout finally looked at your bullies in the eye, faking a confused look, pretending he didn't know why they were picking on you, before nudging you to get into your car. "I'll meet you later, okay, doll? Now get going- I still need to show you something at home." He said before he smugly walked back to his alt mode, entering and closing the door before ultimately letting his holoform disappear behind the tainted windows. He slowly drove in reverse, making sure to see you get into your own vehicle safely and driving out onto the street as he left. He drove ahead of you, but didn't speed to show off like he would usually do, instead he drove at around your own pace.

Once you drove through the groundbridge, Knockout transformed and simply walked next to your car as you went to your little parking area. You rolled down your window to listen to whatever he wanted to rant about. "Who were those humans?! Why were they making fun of you and your possessions like that?!"

Suddenly, tears started to roll down your cheeks and you sniffed, trying to hide your eyes by looking down.

Knockout instantly felt bad and decided to drag you out of your car. So he kneeled down and used his talons to open the door, gently picking you up. No one on the war ship would bother touching your car anyway, so it didn't matter if the door was left open. There was nothing of value in it for any cybertronian.

He put you close enough to his faceplate so he could examine you closely. Just in case they physically harmed you in any way.

"Why are you crying, doll? Was it my outburst?" He asked with a softer tone. You shook your head.

"They always make fun of me- Always finding something to belittle me over..." You wiped away some tears. "A-And ever since I got my mom's old car, they've been harrassing me over it..." There was a moment of silence. Only your little sniffles could be heard. You were a little worried about your boyfriend's lack of response, so you looked up at him.

But then you felt his faceplate press up against your body. More specifically, you felt his dermas kissing your lips. Your face heated up as you kissed back, putting your tiny hands on his faceplate. Once he pulled back, his red optics looked into your red and puffy eyes. They were beautiful to him regardless. "Leave your car here. I'll be your personal vehicle from now on. Just tell me when and where to drive and I'll get you there", he stated. The medic wasn't joking either.

You had a bit of a perplexed look on your face as you considered the possible outcomes. "But I don't want to bother you! You're already doing so much for me! And what if Megatron refuses to let you drive me for more than just school?"

The mech huffed as he slowly put you down on his shoulder pad. "Then he would have to deal with more injured vehicons alone. If he refuses to let me drive you, then I refuse to fix up his soldiers. Simple as that. I'm already your guardian and sparkmate, so why can't I just be your personal ride too?"

You giggled a little at his stubborn attitude, making him smirk. Knockout started slowly making his way over to your home-corner. But before he could offer you to step on his servo to place you on the ground, you kissed the side of his helm. "Thanks, Knockout. You're such a sweetheart and I love you for it." You said, then you stepped onto his servo to be lowered into your corner. The mech gave you a loving smile.

"Love you too, doll."

[ Masterlist ]

#transformers prime #tfp x reader #knockout x reader #cybertronian x human #transformers x reader #transformers x human #tfp knockout #tfp knockout x reader #comfort #hurt/comfort

[munson-blurbs]

I see you are taking requests. I love Eddie munson x reader angst. So maybe one where Eddie's band is doing well and he goes on a small tour and he attracts the unwanted attention of a stalker. She is so obsessed with him she moves to Hawkins and that is when she finds out that he has a fiance (the reader). The stalker than becomes obsessed with making the readers life a living hell. Death threats and all that bad stuff. Until the stalker hurts her one day. Make it as angsty as you want. If you can't do it, then please just ignore. Only if you are comfortable with it. Thanks 😊

Warnings: stalking, lots of violence, blood, knives, language, allusions to sex

WC: 3.7k

A/N: This is by far the creepiest thing I've ever written. Please let me know what you think. Your feedback really keeps me motivated.

"Oh, Eddie," Gareth says in a sing-song voice, peering out at their growing audience from behind the stage, "guess who's he-ere!"

"Oh, God," Eddie mutters as he tunes his guitar.

Puzzled, you look from him to Gareth for an answer, but when no one offers one, you ask, "Who's here?"

"Sorry to break it to you, Y/N," Jeff's voice is teasing, dripping sarcasm, "but Eddie's got himself a secret girlfriend."

"Eddie Munson!" you joke, feigning anger. "And here I am, trying to plan our wedding while you're collecting groupies on tour."

Your fiancé smiles at you wickedly. "Figured we could have a threesome or somethin.'" You give him a playful shove as he leans in to kiss your cheek. "Nah, babe. She's just a fan. Harmless."

"Just a fan?" Gareth sputters, throwing his head back with laughter. "Dude, she basically stalks you after each gig, trying to buy you drinks. One time, we found her waiting outside next to Eddie's van. I don't even know how she knew which one it was."

Worry rises inside of you. "Eds, be careful. Some of these girls can get a little unhinged."

Eddie's noticeably less concerned. "Don't worry. I'm gonna bring you out on stage tonight and introduce everyone to my beautiful almost-wife." He slings an arm around your waist. "Hopefully she'll get the hint."

~

Watching Eddie perform was an ethereal experience. Sure, you'd heard him rehearsing in the apartment you shared, but seeing him on stage was something else. He just exuded passion for music and connected with his audience. Maybe he connected with them a little too much, considering the situation with that girl, but she was far from your mind as you watched his fingers glide across his guitar. Eddie was born for this.

Corroded Coffin was in the middle of a six-week tour of different venues across Indiana. You weren't able to go to all of them without missing work, but when shows were close enough to home, you made the effort to be there.

They were wrapping up their set, with just the encore left, when Eddie spoke into the mic. "Thank you all for being here with us tonight. We hope we were able to rock your fuckin' worlds!" He's met with a chorus of cheers, widening the grin on his face. "I wanna introduce you all to someone incredibly special to me, who inspires all of the love songs I write." He waves you over and you bound across the stage into his open arms, beaming.

"This is my beautiful fiancée, Y/N. And see this?" He takes your hand and turns it so your diamond ring faces the audience. "Because of fans like you coming to see us, I was able to put this rock on her finger!" He plants a kiss on your lips with an exaggerated mwah! as the audience awws. It's hard to see individual faces, but everyone seems to be smiling. Everyone except for one woman.

She's in the front row, arms crossed over her body. She's in a tight red dress that lands just under her thighs. Her long blonde hair frames her scowling face and she's biting her lower lip as though she's trying to hold back tears.

That must be her, you think. That must be Eddie's "girlfriend." But you can't focus on her for too long, because Eddie grabs a chair for you to sit on while the band plays their encore. You're too enamored with Eddie and his performance to notice the pair of eyes that bore a hole in your head.

~

After the concert, you join the boys in their hotel room for pizza and snacks.

"You guys killed it!" you say as you take a cheesy slice. "The perfect combo of originals and covers. You had them in the palms of your hands!"

Jeff nods, his mouth full. "Thanks! Had a good crowd tonight, too."

"Hey, Y/N," Gareth teases, "didja see Eddie's girlfriend?" Eddie smacks the back of his head.

You laugh. "The blonde who looked like she wanted to murder me?"

"That's the one!"

Eddie puts his arm around you, sending tingles through your body. "Well, let's see if she shows up to our gig tomorrow. See if my good luck charm did the trick."

"Or, you know," you look up at him with puppy-dog eyes, "we could always try for that threesome."

~

You drive home the next morning after staying with Eddie. He normally shared the room with the rest of the band, but he'd rented an extra room so you two could...catch up. You didn't want to leave, but you also need to get to work. You spent the morning nestled into his arms while he kissed all over your face until the bedside clock warned that you had to go.

"Let me know if she shows up and you need me to kick her ass," you whisper into his lips as you say good-bye.

"Calm down, Muhammad Ali," Eddie kisses you against your car, cupping your cheek as he presses his plump lips to yours. "I'll be fine."

You reminisce about last night with your beautiful, wonderful fiancé until you arrive at work. You're so focused on the thought of him running his fingers over your body like his strums his guitar to notice the green sedan that's been following you since you left the hotel.

~

It's dark out by the time you leave work. You make your way to your car and unlock the driver's side door when you spot a piece of paper tucked under your windshield wipers. It's ripped carelessly from a spiral-bound notebook. You unfold it and gasp. Written on it in black ink are two words:

Die, Bitch

This has to be some kind of joke. Someone messing with you. Who would be unhinged enough to seriously threaten your life?

And then you remember. The girl at Eddie's show.

Your blood runs cold. The clock reads 9:07 PM, which means Corroded Coffin is on right now. You can't even call him.

"Fuck!" you yell to no one in particular. You look around and don't see anyone. Okay, you can do this. You just have to get home, lock yourself in your apartment, and wait until 10:30 when their set usually ends. Yeah, you'll just call the venue and ask to speak to Eddie, and he'll come right home. Perfect.

You turn on the car and take deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. You've only gone down the road before the low tire pressure light illuminates your dashboard. This always happens in the fall when the weather gets cooler, and you make a mental note to fill up your tires tomorrow.

A few blocks later, you hear a clunk coming from the front of your car.

"Oh, come on!" you groan, slamming your fists onto the steering wheel. You pull over and get out of your car to inspect your tires. Sure enough, the front right tire is completely flat. That never happens; you can at least make it back from work and to the gas station before they run out of air. But then you notice that the front left tire is dangerously low, too. And so are the the two back ones.

Did she...did she slash your tires?

You run the last mile home faster than you've ever run before, hair flying behind you. The night is chilly, but you're drenched in sweat from the sprint and the fear coursing through your blood. Blisters form on your feet but you push through the pain.

The lights coming from your apartment building have never looked so beautiful. It's a place where the plumbing backed up and the elevators were out of service more than they worked, but right now, it's the best thing you've ever seen. You dash up the stairwell, grateful that your place is only on the second floor. Your weary legs are nearly collapse under you as you turn your key in the lock.

"Hi, neighbor."

You spin around and see her, leaned up against the door of the apartment across from yours. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she's traded her dress for an inconspicuous sweater and pair of jeans, but it's definitely her. A sinister smile creeps across her face.

"Did you see the gift I left you?" she asks, walking toward you. "Or did it fall flat?" She cackles at her joke while you stay frozen, both fight and flight failing you.

"W-why are you doing this to me?" you finally manage. "What did I do to you?"

She narrows her brown eyes. "I show up to Eddie's shows. Every. Single. One." she spits venomously. "And you show up last night, act like you're fucking gracing us with your presence, showing off a ring that shouldn't even belong to you.

"Do you know what Eddie needs? Who he needs? He needs someone who supports him all the time, not just when it's convenient for her. He's gonna be famous one day, and when he realizes how many girls would do anything for him, he'll leave you in the dust where you belong," she sneers.

"Unfortunately, I don't have that kind of patience," she says calmly as she reaches into her pants pocket, pulling out a small pocketknife. "So here's what's gonna happen. You're going to end things with Eddie, or I'll slice your throat open and go back home like nothing ever happened." She gestures across the hall.

"You...live here?" you ask incredulously.

"Just moved in," she announces proudly, "but I've been keeping an eye on this building for vacancies since I first saw Corroded Coffin play. Y'know, Eddie shouldn't have his address listed in the WhitePages now that they're really taking off." She says this like she's helping, like she isn't threatening your life.

"Eddie's playing a gig right now," you say, though you're almost positive that she already knows this, "but he calls me every night after his show. I-I'll do it then."

She offers that evil smile again. "Perfect. Gives us time to rehearse what you'll say. And if you go off-script..." she presses the blade to your neck and cackles. "Now, open the door."

~

The phone rings at 10:40, and you snatch it from the receiver with breathtaking speed.

"H-Hello?" You feel the knife against your throat as she leans into hear what Eddie's saying to you.

"Hey, babe! Guess what?" You feel his excited energy through the phone and hope he can pick up on your terror. "She didn't show up. Looks like our plan worked!"

"T-that's great, Eds," you choke out, wincing as she overhears the conversation. She tilts your chin so that your eyes meet hers, and you watch her mouth, Say it. "But I'm breaking up with you."

"Haha, very funny," he says, and your heart sinks as you realize he's completely oblivious.

"No, I'm serious. You deserve better than me. And," you swallow thickly, "and I've been cheating on you."

There's silence on the other end of the line. You think he might've hung up until he exhales loudly and asks, "With who?"

"Doesn't matter," you repeat the lines she's fed you. "There's been more than one guy."

"Why are you telling me this now, Y/N?" His voice warbles, and your heart breaks knowing you're making him cry.

"I'm sorry," you respond, feeling tears well up in your own eyes, "but I don't love you anymore." And you hang up and burst into tears.

"There, there," she runs a cold hand through your hair, fingers catching on the knots that formed throughout the day. She tears through them, sending jolts of pain into your scalp. "You did the right thing, Y/N."

"Please, just leave me alone," you choke out. "I did what you asked."

She shakes her head. "You're not dumb, so I don't know why you're acting like you are." She grabs your elbow with her free hand and stands you up. "Go and pack your things. All your things. You're leaving tonight." You hesitate for a second and she raises the blade to your neck again. "I said GO!"

You shuffle into the room, still sobbing. You fling open a suitcase and start shoving clothes in haphazardly. She's next to you the whole time, watching your every move. After 30 minutes, you've packed as many belongings as you can into various pieces of luggage and piled them at the entryway.

"Now, one last thing," she says in an eerily soft voice. She takes your left hand, plucks off your engagement ring, and slides it on her own finger. She holds up her hand as the diamond catches the light. "Fits like a glove. Like it was meant to be."

You're about to throw up when there's a knock at the door. It can't be Eddie; his show was two hours from here.

"Who the fuck is that?" she hisses. She ticks the blade upwards and you feel the skin break slightly.

"I-I don't know," you answer truthfully. "I'll answer it and tell them to leave, okay?"

"Don't try anything, or that cut will be a lot deeper," she threatens.

You open the door slowly, just a crack, and see Jim Hopper standing in front of you.

"Y/N, Eddie just called me, said to get over here. Said something's wrong," he whispers. You see his eyes meet the trickle of blood creeping down your neck.

Help me, you mouth, and then quickly say, "I'm not interested in supporting the Hawkins PD." You close the door and pray that he got the message.

"Open this door!" he bellows. “Open the door, or I’ll break it down!”

The girl grabs your hair tight in her fist. “Did you call the police, you bitch?” Saliva gathers at the corners of her lips.

“N-no,” you cry, “Eddie must’ve called them after I hung up. I swear.”

She turns her attention back to the door to address the chief of police, never easing her grip on your locks. “You break down this door and you’ll find her in a pool of her own blood!” 

You vaguely hear Hopper calling for backup through the pounding in your ears. I’m going to die, you think. I’m going to die right here in my home, where Eddie and I were supposed to start a family. She’s going to take it all away from me.

“It really is a shame it had to come to this,” she mumbles. “I’d hoped Eddie would see me at his shows and make me his. I dressed so he’d notice me, and apparently, he did.” She pauses for a moment, contemplating. “I bet it was you who told him to watch out for me. Because you know I’m a threat. You know I could steal him from you, and that terrifies you, doesn’t it?” She’s proud of herself, feeding her own ego.

You’re unsure whether it’s better to agree or argue, and you ultimately decide to say nothing. There isn’t anything that can help you now.

Another heavy knock on the door startles you from your thoughts. “Hawkins PD! Release the hostage, or we’re calling in the crisis team.” It’s not Hopper, but a different male officer, though you’re sure he’s still there.

She’s laughing now, and you only see pure malice in her eyes. “Fuck off,” she says, too quietly for them to hear. It’s meant for you.

The cop calls out twice more, and you hear him say something to the chief, though you can’t make out what it is.

“If you let her go, we can just take you down to the station. We don’t have to get anyone else involved,” Hopper tells her. “We don’t have to make this bigger than it needs to be.” 

The girl bites down hard on her lower lip, drawing blood. “You see what you do? You couldn’t just leave Eddie alone, could you? This all could have been avoided if you weren’t so selfish.” Her hand still in your hair, she drags you over to the bedroom. Strands tear from your scalp. “There. Much quieter in here.”

She throws you on the floor, where you land with a smack. Your head hits the bed frame before you can get your hands out in front of you, and you yelp. A curtain of red falls over your left eye.

“Clumsy bitch,” she grumbles, pacing in front of the door. 

She has to get tired eventually, you think. Just gotta wait it out.

She’s babbling on about her future with Eddie, what their wedding will look like, how adorable their children will be. That and the lightheadedness from losing blood is enough to make you sick. You feel the bile rising in your throat, but it stops when you spot something shiny underneath the bed.

Eddie’s handcuffs.

He used to just wear them as an accessory, but they’d been put to...other uses since you two had gotten together. They must’ve gotten kicked under the bed after you’d last used them.

A plan formulates in your head, though it’s hard to straighten your racing thoughts.

Wait until she’s sleeping...cuff her...run like hell.

You repeat the steps silently memorizing them as you did the lines to break up with Eddie. 

Your clock shows that it’s just past midnight when you hear his voice. 

“Y/N! Where is she?” he shouts at the officers, though you can’t make out their responses.

“Let her go!” he screams, fists hammering the door. “Just let her go!”

You’re trembling, desperate to be out of this room, to be held in his arms, to be away from the crazy woman who’s hell-bent on destroying you.

“Aw, your knight in shining armor showed up,” she taunts you now. “Wonder what he’ll think of my new ring. Think he’ll like it?” When you say nothing, she takes a sneakered foot and kicks you in the stomach. You curl up, shielding yourself from another blow. “I said, do you think he’ll like it.”

“Y-yes,” you say between clenched teeth. “I think he’ll love it.” You crane your neck slightly so you’re looking right at her. “What are you gonna do to me once you get him?” you ask softly, afraid for her answer.

“I’m gonna kill you,” she replies simply, as though it’s an ordinary response. “I’m gonna kill you and make him watch. Show him what happens when he makes the wrong choice, so he doesn’t do it again.” She flicks her knife and you shudder, but you don’t miss the yawn that escapes her mouth.

Keep her talking, you think hazily, but don’t talk too much. Don’t give yourself away.

“What made you go for Eddie?” you ask. “Why him?”

“We’re soulmates. I just...feel it.” Her eyes dance as she talks about him, the way he shows off for her on stage, the songs he writes that she knows have to be about her. She goes on and on, and the only thought keeping your stomach from souring completely is that she’s wearing herself out.

Hours pass, and the sun is starting to rise before her eyelids flutter as she lays against the bedroom door. The pinkish streaks streams through the blinds and you know it’s only a matter of moments before the bright light wakes her fully. You listen to her soft snores as you slowly reach for the cuffs, allowing yourself a tiny smile, a small moment of joy, as you grasp the metal between your weak fingers.

You snap one around her left wrist. You have to work fast but gently, strategically, to get the other around the doorknob. It won’t hold her back for long, but hopefully just long enough that you can get to safety.

As the second cuff clicks closed, her eyes snap open. “W-wha--” she starts, and you yank the door open and fly through the living room.

"I’m here I’m here it’s me!” you cry out, flinging yourself into the first person you see. That person happens to be Chief Hopper, who brings his gun down to his side to envelop you in his arms. You feel him breathe a sigh of relief, tension leaving his body.

“We’ve got you,” he murmurs. Someone throws a blanket over your shoulders and guides you towards an EMT. A swarm of uniformed officers, maybe a SWAT team, rushes into the apartment to arrest your assailant.

“Oh my god,” you hear Eddie breathe, making his way through the crowd of people until he reaches you. “Baby, I am so sorry.”

“‘S not your fault,” you sob into his chest, crumbling to the ground and taking him with you. 

“Yes, it is,” he’s crying now, too, “I paraded you out on stage, showed you off, instead of just going to the cops in the first place.” He takes your hands in his, a puzzled look crossing his face when he can’t feel your ring.

“She took it,” you tell him numbly. “She’s wearing it right now.”

“I’ll get you a new one,” he promises, but you shake your head.

“Don’t care about that,” you heave, trying to catch your breath but finding it impossible. And then the world goes black.

~

You wake up in a hospital bed, machines whirring and beeping around you. You stir and almost immediately feel a hand on your arm.

“Y/N? You awake?” Eddie’s voice floats past you, music to your ears. You smile as a headache pulses through your temples. You touch your forehead gingerly to find a bandage covering the wound you acquired last night.

“I’m awake, Eds,” you croak.

“Oh, thank god,” he leans in to kiss you, laying a hand on your stomach, but he pulls back as soon as he notices your grimace.

“She...she kicked me there,” you explain, and his face falls.

“Fuck,” he whispers. His voice shakes and his hands tremble.

“Where is she?” Dread flows through you as you realize she could’ve escaped, could still be out there, waiting for you.

“Locked up, no bail,” his doe eyes meet yours. “She won’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore,” he promises.

Your tears are those of joy, and he holds you close, letting you cry. You’re staining his shirt but neither of you care.

“It’s over, sweetheart,” he promises. “You’re safe.”

Safe. 

A word, a feeling, a state of being you’ll never take for granted again.

--

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #requests

[superblysubpar]

Happy Sunday Rec night! Maybe this is the week I finally get on top of my shit and catch up on reading and post these every week instead of waiting months to make these long ass ones? Who knows. Tune in next Sunday to find out.

Please reblog and share why you love your favorite writer's work! They can't read your thoughts from a simple like. If you can't reblog or comment, consider sending a sweet anon message in support, it could really make someone's day and it will also encourage your favorite writer(s) to keep writing the work you love!💛

Find previous recs on @superbreblogger my fic rec blog or on my pinned post under "critic's choice"

Happy reading and have a great week!

Steve Harrington

untitled mutual masturbation with AIRWIY Steve by @loveshotzz - smut

untitled facial with Steve by @roanniom - smut

untitled father's day with stobin by @shares-a-vest - fluffy angst

melancholy by @rustedhearts - angst

chocolate by @upsidedownwithsteve - smut

untitled sneaking around with Colors Steve by @loveshotzz - smut

untitled kissing all of Steve's moles and freckles by @hungharrington - fluff

Bad For Business: The Bonus Level by @upsidedownwithsteve- smut

untitled romance books by @cherrychilli - smut

steve's reactions to crisis by @hawkins83 - angst

underwear by @upsidedownwithsteve - smut

birthday by @upsidedownwithsteve - smut

untitled birthday with AIRWIY Steve by @loveshotzz - smut

Wake Up Slow by @carolmunson - fluff

untitled giving steve a hickey by @loveshotzz - smut

Melt With You (Pt 1 to My Name's Elvira) by @loveshotzz - fluff

untitled trying new postition with AIRWIY Steve by @loveshotzz - smut

Love Sucks 1: The Beginning by @upsidedownwithsteve

Love Sucks 2: The Interrogation by @upsidedownwithsteve

surrounded by your embrace by @stevebabey - fluff

Love Sucks 3: The Hunt by @upsidedownwithsteve

Petrichor by @rosewaterandivy - smut

chapter one: ticket to anywhere by @abibliophobiaa - this series will contain angst, fluff, and smut

Hell To Pay - The Prologue: The Warmth of Your Doorway by @rosewaterandivy - this series may contain angst, fluff, smut

anxious to run into you imagine AIRWIY Steve by @carolmunson - fluff

Eddie Munson

Torn: Song 1. Scar Tissue by @sweetsweetjellybean - this series will contain angst, fluff, and smut

untitled checking for ticks by @familyvideostevie - smut

A Need by @courtingchaos - smut

Torn: Song 2. Sour Girl by @sweetsweetjellybean - this series will contain angst, fluff, and smut

untitled birthday smut with whatta man eddie by @loveshotzz - smut

Untitled No. 1 by @courtingchaos - smut

untitled healing with eddie by @carolmunson - angst

early morning snow by @chechelia - fluff

eddie's bed headcanons by @deadboyfriendd - fluff

untitled pregnancy cravings by @chechelia - fluff

Torn: Song 3: Disarm by @sweetsweetjellybean - this series will contain angst, fluff, and smut

eddie guitar pick imagine by @starlightsearches - fluffy smut

untitled sound tech eddie by @carolmunson - fluff

untitled bard!renfaire!eddie iamgine by @carolmunson - fluff

Steddie, Stobin, and Everything Stranger Things:

public by @upsidedownwithsteve - smut (steddie x reader)

kinktober, day 7 - somnophilia by @aphrogeneias - smut (tech steve x reader, but a hint of eddie listening so here she goes)

The V Card by @palmtreesx3 - *this series dives into Steve AND Robin with their friendship as well as chapters focused on their love lives/partners separately - this series will contain angst, fluff, and smut

Aphrodisiac by @palmtreesx3 *see above note

Lubrication by @palmtreesx3 *see above note

untitled emmy was in a mood and we all died by @upsidedownwithsteve - smut (steddie x reader)

Series I'm Currently Reading & Recommend:

Talking In Your Sleep by @abibliophobiaa - ongoing

Orange Colored Sky by @carolmunson - ongoing

Let's Go, Don't Wait by @carolmunson - ongoing

Get Off by @palmtreesx3 - ongoing

My Name's Elvira, But You Can Call Me Tonight - by @loveshotzz - completed

Torn - by @sweetsweetjellybean - ongoing

Right Where You Left Me - by @abibliophobiaa - ongoing

#superbly subpars fic recs #sunday fic recs #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader fic #steddie x reader #robin buckley fic

[toskarin]

»GET://NOISE« WORKING WITH RI47 HEAVY INDUSTRIES FOR PROFIT AND UNPROFIT

so, I do feel like I should clarify my actual policy on using my tracks in projects. I do this every now and again, but to be fair, circumstances change pretty often

these aren't blanket licences or anything because honestly a few of these are like... complicated enough that it's literally easier to just talk to someone after the conditions are met and give them permission in writing. in nearly every single case, the first step is "contact me directly and we'll make things work"

if you're working on a project to raise money for Palestinian aid, I am especially interested in working with you. of course, I will be checking to make sure the money is actually going to help the people it's supposed to, as I'm unfortunately aware of how many people are trying to take advantage of these tragedies for their own benefit

a case-by-case reference with slightly more detail is included below

-

if you want to download Ri47 music to listen to but can't afford it... legally, I care that you pirate my music. personally, never tell me about it. I don't want to see that, I'm not signed to a label that seeks out uses of my music, and I understand that the international economy is in shambles. ideologically, I am pro-piracy. don't do anything that will legally force me to care (using my work in a commercial project without permission, for example) and we'll both keep on living our lives as we were

if you want to remix a Ri47 track and need stems… I don't have the stems either. I'm bad at recordkeeping, tune my samples by ear, and primarily do my own last pass of mixing in audacity. I might have some stems kicking around, but the odds are that I'm as empty-handed as you are. sorry about that lol

if you want to use a Ri47 song in your freeware (read: not for sale) project... that's probably fine. contact me first, not because I'm going to spring a fee on you, but because a few of my songs are already licensed out to projects that make it a little more challenging to hand them out. this is mostly applicable if you're making rpgmaker games you don't intend on selling

if you want to use a Ri47 song in your small-scale commercial project... if you're making a promo video for a stream, need music for a podcast, or anything like that, contact me first. in almost every case, as long as what you're making isn't a persistent standalone work (read: something you are selling directly, with my music as part of the package) the most I'll usually ask is that you buy one copy of the album

if you want to use a Ri47 song in a more serious commercial project... you can contact me directly to get a licence. I usually don't work on royalties unless you are selling a product that I'd consider "reselling" my work (read: an OST album or other primarily audio-based product) and I'm happy to work with people to find a deal that works for them

if you want to use a Ri47 song in a project that is intended to raise funds for a not-for-profit charity, especially in providing aid to Palestine… the freeware conditions apply. let me know about your plans beforehand, because I almost certainly want to be more directly involved, but there are very few cases where I would say no to this sort of thing

if you need original music or sound design done by Ri47... I'm booked out about a year or so in advance, so I can't promise I can actually join a team actively, but this is extremely contextual. if you need some UI sounds or a handful of piano pieces to feature in a project, I'm much more likely to find time for that

if you want me to feature on an album or compilation, whether that be contributing a song or remixing one that you provide… contact me and let's talk. this one's the most complicated conditions-wise, but I don't bite

the bottom line being... I work within all budgets and project scopes. even if you think the answer is no, drop me a line and you might be surprised. if you're unsure, I'll happily help you figure out what exactly you need. it's easier than taxes!

[whumpshaped]

whumpiest winter song ever i said i'd write something inspired by it so here it is

tw implied noncon drugging, betrayal

"I really can't stay," Whumpee said apologetically. "I'm sorry. This evening has been so very nice–"

"But look outside, dear." Whumper stepped towards the window, pulling the curtains aside. "You can't leave during the heaviest snowfall."

Whumpee's eyes flickered to the all-white landscape, then back to Whumper's face. Really, they were doing a horrible job of pretending to be concerned instead of delighted at the prospect that their guest might have to stay the night. Had Whumpee been any less in love, they might've done a better job of pretending to be offended by that.

"I have to, I do. My parents will be worried if I stay too long." Despite saying that, Whumpee stayed motionless as Whumper let go of the curtain and walked up to them, taking both their hands in their own.

"Your hands are already so cold. You wouldn't last a moment out there." Whumper rubbed the skin gently, their eyes never leaving Whumpee's. "I'm sure they'd understand if you stayed for just one more drink. Just until the storm settled."

"I shouldn't," they whispered.

"But you must. It's really not your fault, I'll tell them that myself if I have to."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Whumpee quickly yanked their hands out of Whumper's hold, and they weren't sure whether the heat they felt was coming from the cosy fireplace or something else entirely. "There's no way I'll let you explain anything to them! It'd look even worse!"

Whumper gave them a soft smile, then gestured towards the empty wine glasses on the table. "So? One more?"

"No, no, I can't. I can't." They turned around before they could change their mind, quickly putting on their hat. "I'll just call a cab, it'll be fine."

Whumper was behind them in an instant, pulling the hat right off before they could've grabbed onto it. "Not in this weather. I doubt they're even working."

Whumpee tried to snatch the hat away from them, but Whumper stepped away, hiding it behind their back. "What will the neighbours think?" they asked with a half-hearted show of anxiety. "It's so late–"

"They're likely asleep by now," Whumper said smoothly. "Just one more. I'm sure the storm will go away soon. Hm?"

Whumpee sighed heavily. Well, there was no way around it, they supposed. The storm really did look bad... "Just one more."

Whumper lit up instantly. They threw the hat on the sofa and walked over to the table, grabbing Whumpee's glass first. "You should put on some records while I pour. No sense in spending this awful, miserable extra time in silence."

"Why not make my captivity as pleasant as possible..." Whumpee mumbled, giving in easier than they should've. They could hear the glasses clinking and the wine sloshing as they looked through the record collection, eventually deciding on something slow and... well, not romantic, not really, it was just... pleasant, they were pleasant tunes.

"Good choice," Whumper remarked, and Whumpee didn't have to look to know they were smiling. They turned around with an exasperated look, but they didn't fight it when Whumper handed them the glass.

"I'm being way too lenient." They took a sip, then went to sit down before they could've been cornered. Whumper followed suit, settling on the sofa a touch too close to them for it to be considered polite. "I should be saying no to all of this."

"Just to hurt my pride?"

"So I don't give you the wrong idea."

Whumper gave them a sly smile. "I think my ideas are fine, thank you."

Whumpee took another sip, bigger this time. This heat creeping up their neck and spreading across their cheeks had to be coming from the fire, or maybe the damn drink. "Goodness, I can't even imagine what my sister must be thinking. And my brother! Oh, he must be standing watch by the door."

"A terrifying thought," they cooed, shifting in their seat and mysteriously ending up a couple inches closer to them than previously.

"And my aunt, too... She will never let this go," they babbled on, emptying their glass right after. Whumper watched with the look of a cat that got the cream. "She'll tell everyone, she'll start rumours..."

"Why abstain if people are going to gossip anyway?" Whumper reached out, and Whumpee stupidly thought they might caress their face or run their fingers through their hair — instead they just took the glass, skin brushing against skin as their touch lingered.

"It's not abstaining," they huffed. Distantly, they noted how Whumper's glass of wine seemed entirely untouched. "That implies a level of desire, doesn't it?"

Once the glasses were out of the way and on the table, Whumper sat back, leaving barely any distance between the two of them. "And you don't want this at all, of course," they said sarcastically.

"Not one bit," Whumpee confirmed, their eyes darting to Whumper's lips as soon as they leaned in.

"I'm truly just horrible, then."

#whump #whump drabble #implied noncon drugging #betrayal

[fanaticsnail]

My take on Shameless Part 1:

Reader, finally being convinced to give up her type: I want a visible outline in the pants. I want "swinging between their knees" big. You know the minotaur? Picture that. Then picture someone that makes the minotaur feel inadequate. Then picture that someone looking at you like a crab to split open and suck the meat out of. Then picture me, as a crab-

The crew: (varying states of horror)

Reader: **** in my ******, tickling my diaphragm, upside down-

Law: (considering a lobotomy)

Reader: *** dripping from his teeth, ***** spread open, *****-

Ikkaku, to the Kid Pirates: look out! I think Moto Moto likes you!

Reader, "I like'em big, I like 'em chunky" playing in the background: Shachi did I ever tell you I invented and held the title of mechanical bull riding champion for four consecutive years on my home island?

Shachi, terrified: What's happening? Where is that music coming from?

Reader: but you know what they say, save a mechanical bull-

Shachi: Seriously, am I the only one hearing this?

Reader: hellooooo sailor-

Law: aht! Down girl.

Reader: What?! You don't get to-

Law: Do you want to be grounded for the next thirty days?

Reader: you're not my dad!-

Law: with the collective amount of brain cells you lot share between you? I might as well be.

Reader: He could be my-

Law: Room.

Reader: Wait! Please-

Law: Shambles

Reader, from below deck: Your galley can't hold me forever! I will chew my way through these bars!

Reader: Him. He's my type

Bepo, looking at the hulking unit of a man known for violence warily: ... In what way, exactly?

Reader: any way he'll have me. Although I do have a penchant for all fours.

Kid, noticing the talking: OI! You lot quit yer yappin'! What are you, a dog?

Reader: For you? I'd be happy drooling, leashed, and on all fours.

Kid: what?

Reader: Woof.

Reader, hoping to bypass all laws of the One Piece universe to directly beam "Rodeo" by Lah Pat into Kid's head if she stares at him hard enough:

Shachi, bolting upright in his bunk: it's fucking happening again.

Reader, singing to the tune of Beyonce's "ego" under their breath as they work: walk like this 'cause he knows how to fuck

Shachi: what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

Luffy, humming along: Oh, you hear it too?

Shachi: (screams)

Okay, this was so ridiculous I had to make a mood board so I could visualise it. This is hilarious. This is exactly what my mind did when reading your ask, snail, and I am here for it.

I am dying at Shachi's reactions to the music. That's way too funny. Luffy singing? Cherry on top.

Meanwhile, Captain Law's live reaction to his unruly crewmember:

And coming in hot with the song recs!? Hell yeah!!

I don't know what got into me with that three-parter. Something about Kid just said: "You know that guy? That guy needs to be rizzed. He needs to be rizzed so bad. I'm gonna have this afab!reader rizz him the hardest he's ever been rizzed."

You're always here when I need you, sweet snail. Thank you so much. So ridiculously funny, and just what I needed before I go to sleep.

#one piece #x reader #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #ask snail #snail answers #op kid #one piece kid #op kid fic

[darlingicarus]

!! PHANTOM LIBERTY SPOILERS !!

this silverv scenario spoils the tower ending from phantom liberty, i'm twisting the ending in my own way, but the general pieces are still there from the ending in the game, do not read on if you don't want to be spoiled <3

when v first gets on the av, they refuse the sedative. johnny's confused, but lets it play out. v refuses any sort of treatment until they can talk with reed, face to face. it's important, they emphasize to the people on the av.

and it worked. as soon as v got assigned the medical room that would be theirs for the duration of the surgery, reed walked in.

and before reed could say anything, v spoke up first, their voice shaky, nervous. "reed, i want them to put johnny in his own body."

johnny materialized next to them, about to object, he's accepted his fate already —

but, v, not ready to talk to him just yet, speaks to reed again, "i know where his body is being held. you'd just need to retrieve it. it won't be easy, but —"

"okay. i'll do it." reed couldn't say no. not when v was looking at him with tear-filled eyes. v never directly told him how much johnny meant to them. he always had a feeling, but in this moment, he knew. they had a deeper connection.

he thought of so mi in that moment. reed still felt afraid that the decision he chose was the wrong one despite everyone around him saying he did the right thing. he let one friend down, but he wouldn't let v down.

"where's his body?"

—————————————

reed left after getting everything he needed. and that’s when johnny moved from his spot. he was leaning against the wall, aviators on, trying to process the conversation he was hearing. and now he sat beside v on the bed without his aviators and was just staring into v’s eyes.

“what’re you doing, v?”

“saving your life, johnny. and don’t tell me you’ve accepted your fate. i haven’t accepted it. i don’t think i could live without you, johnny.”

and johnny didn’t have a good enough response for them. all he could manage was reaching his hand and ghosting it over v’s. he couldn’t feel their hand, but if all works out… soon…

—————————————

johnny recovered first. v was still in their coma. reed already told him the bad news, that v could no longer use their combat cyberware.

"but is v going to be okay?"

"yes."

and that's all that mattered to him. johnny spent most of his time next to v. he would rub circles into their hand, hoping that in whatever dream like state they were in, they'd be able to feel some comfort from johnny's touch.

he messaged everyone on v’s phone that they would consider a friend. telling them that v was in coma and didn’t know when they would wake up. he didn’t respond to any follow up messages, but at least they know what happened to them now.

he talked to kerry on his own, though. he was headed out on tour soon, he even asked johnny to join. johnny said no. he couldn’t be away from v. they saved him and now he needed to be here and make sure they’d wake up with someone being there next to them.

kerry didn’t mind, though. from the way johnny would talk about v, it was clear how much he cared.

“promise me one thing, johnny.”

“what’s that?”

“keep in touch.”

“i will.”

the next day, johnny had a package arrive for him. it was his guitar with a note reading: something to keep you busy.

feeling his guitar with his own hands this time was strange, but a good strange. rather than pacing around the room, he played on his guitar, softer tunes so as not to disturb v.

the song he played most often was who wants to live forever. it’s the song he was thinking about during the ride in the av to langley.

while he was playing today, he swore he saw v’s fingers lift up. his eyes lingered on them for a second. nothing else changed. must’ve been a trick from his eyes, just waiting for something to change. wanting something to change.

—————————————

v could feel someone holding their hand. when their eyes finally opened, they saw johnny. he was sitting in a chair close to the bed, his head down on their bed. johnny’s hand loosely holding theirs.

before v had the heart to wake him up, they studied him. the real him, in his own body. despite being asleep, johnny’s face looked so tired and worn.

they squeezed johnny’s hand and instantly johnny’s eyes opened up.

“v, you’re awake!”

he quickly scooped them up into a hug, but still being gentle. they hugged for a while. v was still scared that all of this wasn’t real. they were actually hugging johnny and he wasn’t disappearing.

when they let go, johnny looked serious.

“we need to talk about some things.”

—————————————

so that’s why johnny looked really tired and why his hair seemed longer than what they remembered.

two years in a coma. most of their friends moved on.

it felt weird being back in night city too, especially now that they didn’t have the ability to use cyberware anymore, even getting it confirmed by vik.

they felt johnny’s hand clasp theirs.

“c’mon.”

he said he wanted to take them somewhere. v remembered instantly where they were: the oil fields.

he led them to the spot they talked before. this time, they sat next to each other. the etching from before, the js 2023, was between them.

“what’re we here for?”

“to say goodbye.”

johnny came here with one thing he mind. he wanted to put johnny silverhand, rockerboy turned terrorist, to rest. he wasn't that person anymore nor does he think he ever will be again.

johnny silverhand died in that tower. but, the johnny sitting at this gravesite didn't. he's alive and well and has new purpose in life: to be with the one he loves.

johnny never thought a quiet life would be something he ever wanted. but, as they drove away from the oil fields, he felt like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. he could be free to be happy. live under the radar as two unassuming people of night city.

and he is happy. and v's happy. and they're both alive. what more could he want? this is a blank slate for them and it's more than he could've ever hoped for.

#i just want them to be happy in every ending <3 #maybe i should turn this into a more detailed fic at some point???? #silverv #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 #phantom liberty spoilers #johnny silverhand #v #johnny silverhand x v #my writing

[beastabyss666]

The new Mammon and Fizz episode has been released and I wanna put my two cents in.

The palette is oooof........ One of the most "hard to watch" HB episodes. Seriously, hasn't anyone told Vivzie that her colour choices are just utterly failed?

Mammon was simply annoying and cringe, especially considering he's one of the highest "demons". He curses every few seconds, has an Australian accent and is some kind of a rock star(because......because). Oh yeah, he's also a very bad guy, cuz he disrespects women! Also I find it funny that Vivzie said in one of her tweets that she apologizes the fans wouldn't like him, as he's "fat and ugly". In reality, he's just a typical Vivziepop-ish male character, having sharp teeth and eyes without pupils. And his "fatness" is just looking like a Christmas tree with a round body.

Overdetailed backgrounds and sloppy animation, as always. Some moments look reeeeeally stiff. Maybe Vivzie starts drawing easier backgrounds and make characters with less details so the animation was better and faster to produce? Just dreaming.......

The songs are just generic tasteless pop-stuff. Gosh, I just wish they have a better composer cuz it's tiring to hear these cheap pop tunes every time. Maybe get some real rock or something with synthesizer........ I don't know.....

The background characters in this episode look much less like some early Deviantart furry OCs or cosplay freaks, which is a real plus. Take some cuties:

Hee hee goat boy

Hee hee goat girl(kinda accurate to the demonology, love it).

I really like the left amphibia girl, she's so pretty. Also yeah, bg characters really look better than in previous episodes. Almost like they were drawn by someone who actually knows their job well and doesn't make every person look like different art style or different teenager's OC.

Fizz being tired to be a clown for entertainment, having panic attacks, dealing with crazy fans and a shitty boss was honestly a good idea but the final song was just too weak to handle it. If it was done better, it would be really good.

The sigh language kid is cute and it was interesting to see a disabled person being cheered and supported by another disabled person.

Oh wow Viv made another female characters whose entire personality is being bitchy and arrogant(even to each other, though they're sisters they're calling each other whore, bitch etc.). Can't wait for the fanbase to hate these two or lust for them in the worst way possible.

Though there were actually some beautiful and......esthetic frames.

Am I the only one who never understood why Fizzarolli is considered a sex icon in this show? Like, yeah, Mammon said that he'll exploit his "clown employee" in every way possible and it's all for money, but I still don't get the whole "having tons of sex dolls based on him" thing. Who in sanity would buy a sex doll of Fizz? He looks like a stick with limbs and painted face, which is somehow considered sexy by Vivzie or her fans? Wouldn't it be more logical for a woman to be a sex icon? Lots of real women, including teen idols, were sexualized and fetishized for media by their producers and shown as beauty icons. But I just couldn't imagine the same with males. Like, I'm sorry, but to me Fizz who's a circus performer, celebrity and a sex icon is in the same category as Angel Dust who's a porn star, stripper and prostitute at the same time.

I'm very glad there wasn't much Blitzo.

It's funny that this girl looks like a better design for Loona than Loona herself, lmao.

It's actually a progress to see that Vivzie didn't fetishize a romantic relationship between two men and actually showed them as a loving couple which doesn't talk about sex and cocks every five seconds. She actually has put some unexpected effort in it.

Oh wait she didn't—

#vivziepop critical #anti vivziepop #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #anti helluva boss #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #helluva boss salt

[eliounora]

I'm not a big disney fan outside of childhood nostalgia but every time I see one of those prince rankings I'm like ok but I could rank them better. and I happened to be bored so I did

some mentions I have to make so people don't wonder:

flynn rider: basic choice. scientifically engineered to be a hot man. no bite or edge to him. if you look at concept art he was supposed to be a big guy but they changed him to this market researched douche with a soul patch. absolute travesty

aladdin: he’s cute and good-hearted, lies to get his way but learns to be true to himself. lessons we all learn in life. next

jim: has the best song. i too want the moment to be real

phoebus: mmm. ehh

prince charming: literally what it says on the tin. storybook prince. not a man, a plot device

cinderella's prince: has a thing for feet. nice. funny in the sequels but a cardboard box is more interesting than his design

and now the top 10:

10. hercules: hunky demigod himbo. true hero is tested by the strength of his heart. the lesson all gym bros need to learn.

9. quasimodo: has heart and character, and sang “out there” like an angel.

8. prince eric: spends all his days with his dog and playing the recorder. who let him out of containment. too nervous to kiss a girl he likes even though she is sending obvious signals. he wants to get the know her better. king

7. tarzan: loin-clothed hunk with the facial structure of a statue. roams the jungle to the tunes of phil collins. loves his mom without being weird about it. prime man

6. the beast: eye and soul candy for the monsterfuckers. hot take but he wasn’t that bad as a human. he was hot. especially when you consider that his backstory included him being so snobby and vain that he was turned into the beast. like isn't that the consequences of your actions pretty boy. love to see it

5. milo: linguist. has round glasses and that 90s curtain haircut. all features that can indicate sleeziness but he is a good guy, meaning sometimes a man with round glasses and 90s curtain haircut can be trusted. a lanky charming nerd and therefore my exact type unfortunately

4. kenai: excellent protagonist. so deep in the throes of toxic masculinity he gets turned into a bear. isn't that the consequences of your actions pretty boy

3. shang li: bisexual king. nothing more to add.

2. prince naveen: now I may come from a protestant culture but a lazy jackass learning the value of hard work and love is what it’s all about. a dish. gets turned into a frog, isn't that the consequences of your actions pretty bo-

1. robin hood: “he's a fox hahah furry" FUCK YOU. HE IS THE FINEST MAN OUT THERE. HE HANGS OUT WITH HIS BEST FRIEND IN THE WOODS. HE HAS BEEN TRUE TO HIS SWEETHEART SINCE CHILDHOOD. he thinks he’s not good enough for her, but in a chivalrous way instead of pathetic. steals from the rich and gives to the poor. great with kids. they don’t make men like this anymore, and with that I mean men of integrity. “MARIAN MY DARLING I LOVE YOU MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF.” (CRIES)(THROUGH TEARS) LOVE IT SEEMS LIKE ONLY YESTERDAY YOU WERE JUST A CHILD AT PLAY

#nor's rambles #does not include commentary on why disney turns all their poc protagonists into animals. saving that for some other time #i love to see a man learn a lesson

[sullina]

Steven universe future episode 15 "Mr. Universe" starting with Greg and Steven going on a roadtrip to the tune of "dear old dad" and ending with Steven deleting the old yearbook photo off his phone.

I just love this kind of extreme contrast.

the episode starts with Steven genuinely believing that his dad might be able to help him after what undoubtedly feels like an eternity of a confusing and aimless hell for Steven (as having a mental illness tends to be).

Finally, something to help him get better.

Only to realize how terrible he really had it. He says it himself. "I grew up in a van! I've never even been to a doctor until two days ago!" along with how he never went to school on top of that, when Gregs parents, Stevens grandparents, were "right here".

This is the episode that Steven (and also I) realized that while Greg loved him dearly, he was not cut out to be a father. Or at least, he didn't know how to be a father, how to properly care for a child.

Gregs parents were extremely strict, according to Greg himself, and Greg obviously didn't want to be like them, but he overcorrected into the opposite direction: total freedom. But children need boundaries and rules. Not so many as to be suffocating, but at least some structure to learn what was safe to do and what wasn't.

That last part did not exactly apply to Stevens childhood. We never see his early childhood, but from the start of the first show, Steven is exposed to genuinely traumatizing danger over and over and over (as shown in the "Growing pains" episode, where Steven goes to the hospital and recounts all the traumatizing stuff that happened to him to Connies mom, Dr. Maheswaran). Steven knew what was dangerous, but he never seemed to learn what "safe" really was, considering not just Steven himself, but his home and family and friends were often under attack. Not to mention all of the physical injuries he got. Steven never really got away from just about any dangerous situation with "just" a bruise. He could have died, and he knows this. Any danger he's faced has been potentially lethal. This is not healthy, but the consequences only show up later.

But as a child, he either wasn't 100% aware of that fact, or decided to just subconsciously shove it down and not think about it ("not thinking about the bad stuff" is also a confirmed coping mechanism for young steven, as shown in "mindful education", the episode that features the song "here comes a thought"). But young steven only felt bad about the stuff that he couldn't do for others. The bad stuff that happened to himself didn't really seem to register, because there was always something more important going on, and even when there wasn't, no one ever checked in on Steven afterwards. Everyone just assumed he was okay, and that was it. Even Steven himself.

When there wasn't a (usually life-threatening) mission going on, Steven was very often left to his own devices. And that extends beyond just mission stuff. I don't think we've ever seen anyone actually cook for Steven. Whenever he eats, it's either some kind of take-out food, or food he made for himself. And it doesn't seem like a big deal, but it does send the message of "you're responsible for yourself, if you can't take care of yourself on your own, no one will do it for you". Add that and the fact that it was Steven who helped the Gems through their mental stuff (especially Pearl, especially when concerning anything related to Rose), I can't blame Steven for internalizing the message of "you're responsible for yourself and also everyone else (so all you're good for is helping others regardless of your own wellbeing, which is not important)"

And bringing it back around to Greg... Greg never had the courage for any sort of real confrontation. Initially, you can blame his own parents for that, if we assume that any attempt for Greg to properly assert himself was only ever met with more abuse than he was already subjected to by them. However, while the blame is not with Greg himself, as an adult, he is responsible for healing from that. But he didn't, and the consequences of this trauma are still there. Greg lived without any ability for serious confrontation and asserting himself by just... running away. He ran away from his parents with the van. And while he tried to reconnect with them later on with the letters, those letters were never opened. Greg probably never recieved a response from them, and he most likely didn't even visit to check on them, if the letters ever even arrived. Whenever there was gem-stuff involved, he ran away (quite literally), and in Steven Universe Future, when Steven crashed the van? He tells his son that he's proud of him for "telling him off", because he's glad that his own son can tell him anything.

Steven is distressed by this reaction. A lot.

And it's this reaction that tells him that Greg can't help him.

It's just such an odd reaction. You crash your dads van and he tells you he's proud of him? I mean what kind of reaction is that? You'd expect to be reprimanded. Or at least be asked something like "what the hell was that? Why did you do that?" But Greg didn't. He didn't confront his own son after crashing the very van he's built his life with. The only thing Greg did was make sure that Steven was alright physically.

And the next episode? The gems do reprimand Steven, but what for? For endangering his dad, who is a "fragile human". There was little to no concern for Steven himself. No "What was going on" or anything, just a "what were you thinking?" as if Steven crashed the van on purpose, which he didn't.

Steven never recieved any boundaries to keep him safe, and the only other family, the one he was actually living with, the Gems, most often left him completely alone unless there was a mission to complete. Steven mainly cared for his own self in his day to day life. He even seemed to do his own laundry a lot of the time, he was the one making sure he was fed at age 13 and up, likely also the one to make sure he had a personal hygiene routine. While we don't know about that last part, Greg wasn't living with Steven, and while i don't doubt he taught his son about personal hygiene, it was up to Steven himself to enforce it. If 13 year old Steven didn't feel like brushing his teeth some days, would anyone have made sure he did it anyway?

And what about education? We know Steven knows how to read and write and probably the basics of math as well. He knows the basics of what he needs to know, either taught to him by Greg or by Pearl, but anything beyond that? Physics? Chemistry? At least some basic science?

And not just education itself, school is also important to socializing, getting to know people of your own age group. Living at the temple, Steven was pretty much isolated. Sure, he knew people in town, but i don't think we ever see them actually visiting him, or him visiting anyone else just to hang out. And even when we do, it's pretty rare.

The closest thing Steven had to a friend his own age was Onion, and Onion is, well... he's Onion. And shown to commit legit crimes more than once. And Steven is often shown to be kind of scared of Onion, or at least uncomfortable around him. He takes it in stride, but I'm pretty sure if Steven ever thought about it properly, he would probably say that Onion freaked him out. Plus, Onion is much younger than Steven, seeing as Steven should be around the same age as Sour Cream (since they were both babies around the same time, though SC is probably a year or so older than Steven still).

Everyone around Steven was either his caretaker (who weren't very good at their job as proper guardian) or an acquaintance at best and likely unaware of what was going on with Steven at home.

Steven was isolated and neglected in vital parts of his upbringing, the best the gems did was making sure he didn't die, and Greg was no longer reliably around to make sure everything was alright, unless Steven came to him. And Steven was the one to take care of his guardians in their critical moments.

And still, Steven was a "good" child. He took care of his own physical human needs, with no one around to make sure that he did. When something bothered him, he took care of it himself. When others were bothered by something, Steven took care of them, too.

Even in battle, he tried to resolve everything peacefully when he could. When he couldn't, like with the corrupted gems, he fought when needed, to the best of his abilities. The more his powers came in, the more missions he could go on (the more time he could spend with the gems who were his family).

He made himself useful, not unlike a weapon: to be drawn when needed, and put away when not needed.

But he's not a weapon. He's an alive being with needs, emotional and physical. But the gems didn't seem to realize that. Greg wasn't properly caring for him like he should have. In the episode where Lapis steals the ocean, Greg even asks "is this what every mission is like for you, Steven? Because I'm not sure I'm comfortable with you going on these anymore." (i think he was interrupted then, but that's pretty much what he said) Greg doesn't know what happens on these missions, and even when he expresses his dicomfort with his son being put in danger, nothing actually happens to make that stop. Stevens physical needs were taken care of by himself. His emotional needs were often disregarded, not only by the gems, but by himself as well.

He made himself small, bottling up his issues and not bothering anyone with them.

And everyone else just... let him. Just let that happen. Steven was fine, right? If he's not calling for help, then everything must be fine, right?

The gems and Greg only ever started to say something in SU Future, when it was pretty obvious that Steven was no longer alright. When the problems became harder and harder for Steven to hide.

And even when it was obvious that he wasn't alright, Steven himself kept insisting that he was fine, because he couldn't be not fine, he had to be fine, because he couldn't help others if he wasn't, and if he couldn't help others, then what was he good for-

In "Growing pains", when Steven goes to the hospital, Greg is actively forced to confront his son and assure him that he'll help, that he's there for him, and they will figure this out together. And things seem to look up for Steven. Well, until the next episode, when Greg shows him the solution that helped him when he was younger. When that didn't help Steven though, Greg tried to push it on him again. When Steven lashes out at how Greg messed up with caring for him, Greg completely fails to see it and keeps saying how Steven had "actual freedom".

But too much freedom isn't much different from utter neglect.

And even when Steven crashes the van, Greg still fails as a parent. Sure, Steven is alive, but he refuses to confront his emotional wellbeing, the real problem. Greg Universe runs away again. Like he did from any gem-related issue. Like he did from raising Steven as soon as the gems took over. Like he did from his own parents.

And because of this, he would never be able to help his son. He could never teach Steven how to cope, because Gregs only way of coping seemed to be "run away from your problem". But Steven could only run from his problems for so long. He bottled his problems up and internalized them, but that bottle was always gonna burst sooner or later, and then what? Steven couldn't run from himself, because wherever he went, he would always be there.

His own father couldn't help him.

The gems couldn't help him.

Literally the only adult who was able to give him any sort of help was Dr. Maheswaran, and even then, all she could do for him was identify the problem.

Steven was on his own.

But it's not like he was dying or anything, so he was fine, right? As long as he wasn't dead, he was okay, he could take care of himself and everyone else like he's always done.

He always took care of everyone else.

So why were they leaving?

Why were they moving on without him?

Why are they leaving him behind? He's been good, hasn't he?

And even when he messed up, he always fixed things, didn't he? Always!

He fixed things! That's what he does! He's Steven, the one who always helps everyone and never needs help himself, but if they were leaving, was he really a good child? Was he really helpful?

But if he wasn't helpful, then... what has he been doing all this time?

If helpful Steven wasn't helpful, then he could only be a fraud.

No... no, he could always find a problem to fix! And if he couldn't find one, he would just have to create one! As long as he could create problems, he would never run out of problems to fix, right?

As long as he just keeps messing up and creating problems-

Wait...

No...

That's not right...

If he's creating problems, he's not helpful...

He's a monster.

#Steven universe future #suf #su #steven universe #long post #this got long #i do hope it's coherent though bc i refuse to re-read and edit this stuff bc I'll only confuse myself #also while it may not seem like it i do love the gems and greg #but it's very clear they were not great caretakers for Steven #anyway: #cw child neglect #cw spiraling thoughts #even if it's “just” the spiraling thoughts of a fictional character

[howaboutcastiel]

On My Command (Steven Grant x Reader)

Summary: You want to wind down after a bad day at work, but Steven is over-eager as always. You decide to take control and set your own pace, presenting challenges for the both of you that require some cheeky solutions.

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ minors DNI

Content: Fluff, angst?? a little, smut (more than a little), handcuffs, afab reader, language is gender-neutral except anatomy.

Word Count: 5.6k

(Once again, not proofread.)

From the time that you entered the familiar open-concept apartment, it was clear that your and Steven's work days had gone very differently from each other. You'd had an extraordinarily stressful day at work—your boss had chewed you out and you'd had to skip your lunch break—and you were tired, pissed, and ready for some peace and quiet with your gentle, darling boyfriend. You figured the two of you could order pizza or Chinese and curl up on the couch to watch a classic movie. 

When you opened the door to your shared flat, though, you knew immediately that Steven had other ideas. He was standing in the kitchen, apron on and tongs in hand, and the smell of garlic and oregano filled the air. He seemed abnormally cheery, humming along to a playlist of show tunes that echoed from his phone by the sink. 

"Oh! Hello, darling!" he said when he heard the lock click behind you. "Just making us some pasta. Hope that sounds good, yeah? My shift ended early at the museum and I thought I'd treat us to a home-cooked meal."

"Sounds great, love," You inhaled deeply as you plopped your workbag on the couch, hoping that the decadent aromatics would ease the tension in your body. It was nice to see Steven so bubbly, and even nicer to see him cooking one of your favorite dishes. Still, you weren't exactly able to work up an appetite considering the verbal abuse you'd endured from your boss. Especially since, for the record, you hadn't done anything wrong. You started toward the kitchen, figuring a glass of water might help you relax enough to stir up an interest in the wildly inauthentic Italian cuisine before you. To be fair, Steven would normally be a stickler for accuracy, but being vegan doesn't make for the easiest adherence to traditional Italian food. 

You pulled a glass from the cabinet above the toaster, swerving around Steven so as to not disturb him while he cooked. You felt slightly more at ease just by being in close proximity to him, knowing that he would easily be the gentlest soul you talked to today, but the music blaring from beside the sink rang in your ears as you filled up your cup. You gritted your teeth as you waited for the glass to fill, but you couldn't stand the almost mockingly jolly song chipping away at your inner ear. You tapped Steven's phone with the pad of your index finger, sliding the volume bar down about halfway. He didn't seem to think much of it, continuing to hum along but eyeing you with innocent confusion. 

"Why don't you go wash up, darling? I'll set us up at the table." Steven seemed obviously proud of his cooking and, judging by the brightness in his eyes, utterly oblivious to your tired and pent-up state. Not that it upset you that he didn't notice. You would hate to burden Steven with your trivial work troubles, especially when he seemed in such a great mood. 

You headed to the bathroom to wash your face and hands, electing to throw your overshirt into the hamper while you were there. You were starting to feel more relaxed, reassured by the thoughtfulness of your partner and his exuberant mood, but the stress was only replaced by a more intense mental and emotional tiredness. You hoped that the meal would help brighten your mood.

When you returned to the den of the apartment, you were greeted by a fully-set table, illuminated by candlelight. He always liked to liven up your dinners together. Just to do something small and special, to show his appreciation for you. Steven grinned up at you as he placed a shallow bowl of pasta in front of your seat, pulling out the chair for you and motioning you forward.

"Bon appétit," he cooed as you both settled in your chairs, "Don't know about you, love, but I'm absolutely ravenous. I was going to get a bottle of wine to have with dinner, but then I got distracted by this little corgi that a lady had tried to smuggle into the shop in her purse."

He giggled as he recalled his afternoon, sparing no details of his witness to a store clerk confronting the woman and her dog. She had vehemently denied it, apparently, despite the little pup being in plain sight of all of the staff and customers. You cracked a smile at his recount of the story, enjoying how his eyes lit up with the mental imagery he was recalling. He seemed weightless, as if he'd lived this whole day in a children's story or a fairytale. It was amazing to you how Steven could be so positive when dealing with everyday life. How he could see adventure in everything, even a trip to the grocer. 

You had nearly finished your plate without even noticing. The food filled you with a satisfying warmth, and you were reminded of just how hungry you had been after skipping today's lunch. Steven saw that you were nearing the end of your meal, and he practically jumped from his seat with a look of sudden haste. 

"I nearly forgot! There's dessert in the fridge. Can't take credit for it, I'm afraid. I bought it pre-made."

He presented you with a tray of tiramisu. You made a noise of excitement as you dug your spoon into the soft, coffee-dusted surface. Of course Steven had bought something for dessert. He never did things halfway, especially not when they were things for you. 

You devoured the confection as fast as you had your dinner. This time, Steven noticed your exceptional hunger, having been only halfway through his own serving of pasta. He tilted his head, reminiscent of the way a puppy might, furrowing his brow in an expression of slight concern. 

“You alright, love?” he prodded, his tone gentle but fairly emphatic. “Never seen you scarf down food like that before. D’you miss your lunch or something?”

You didn’t want to burden him with the semantics of your horrid day. The yelling, the ordering, the frantic damage-control that left you pissed and exhausted hours before the end of your shift. Steven didn’t deserve to hear all that. You couldn’t ruin his mood after the obvious blessing of a day he’d experienced. 

“Yeah, just got too busy to eat. I hadn’t really noticed how hungry I was, I guess. Your cooking is excellent though, my love. It always is.”

You sat patiently as you watched Steven finish his plate. You nibbled at another half-serving of tiramisu, not wanting to stuff yourself in fear of an upset stomach later on. The rest of dinner went by fairly quietly; you weren’t talking about your day, and Steven was too busy eating his own dinner to gift you with any more of his anecdotes from the morning. 

It was hard to stay tense and angry in the presence of Steven Grant. He was so gentle, so goofy, and his demeanor would make anyone feel guilty for bringing down the mood in his wake. Of course, you could always be serious with him when life required you to be. He was just as caring and mature as he was youthful, and he’d had a lifetime of practice being comforting and remarkably level-headed. You felt your grudge against your jackass boss begin to dissipate from your body, drowned out by the warmth and tenderness of the man who sat before you. 

“Can we watch a Disney movie tonight?” You asked him sheepishly as he took his last bite of food. “I just don’t feel in the mood for any of the heavy stuff, you know? I wanna watch something… light. And peaceful.”

“Of course, love.” He responded. “Anything you’d like. I can make us some martinis if you want. Nothing says well-adjusted adult like getting plastered while watching Mulan.”

“I don’t know about plastered, babe, but I could definitely use a drink to loosen up a bit.”

~~

The two of you settled into the soft warmth of the faded old sofa. Instinctively, Steven moved to wrap his arm around your shoulder and you welcomed his embrace with a resigned sigh. It had been such a long day, and you were ready to be free of the commotion and watch a nice, comforting movie with some cheap mixed drinks and cuddles from your boyfriend. 

As the opening credits flashed across the screen, though, it became increasingly clear that Steven wasn’t just in the calm and cuddly mood. Thinking he was being sly, he placed his calloused hand on the fabric covering your inner thigh. You tried not to indicate that you had taken notice of this small gesture. After a few minutes, he started to draw little patterns with the pads of his fingers, testing the waters to see how receptive you were to his touch. 

I’ll just indulge him, you thought to yourself. Maybe it would help to let off some steam. And God, it’s not like I can resist him looking at me like that. 

You weren’t even looking up at Steven, but you could feel his tired, lustful eyes surveying your body as his other hand tightened around your shoulder. You could hear his breathing, slightly faster than it should be for someone lounging around watching a Pixar movie. You knew that as soon as you met his gaze, you would be putty in his hands. As your head and neck were pressed into his chest, you swore you could also hear the measurably over-eager beating of his heart. 

Steven was always excited, borderline giddy when you accepted his sexual advances or offered your own. He perfectly fit the description of a golden retriever boyfriend, eager to please you and to experience your body over and over again. You knew that as soon as you signaled to him that you shared his interest in sleeping together, he would spring to life with an energy so unexpected from his normally tired and somewhat timid demeanor. You hoped that you could temper his enthusiasm at least a bit for tonight, though. God knows you couldn’t handle so much fervor from him after your stressful day, especially if your aversion to his show tunes earlier was any indication of your patience. You pressed the palm of your hand against his torso, running your hand along the cotton surface of his V-neck. Steven sucked in a hitched breath, but he seemed to respond gently enough to your subtle reciprocation of his touch. Finally, you braced yourself for his admiring gaze as you lifted your chin off his chest to meet his eyes. 

Sure enough, his soft brown eyes were studying your frame like a renaissance painting, widened and yearning but also restrained as Steven still attempted to appear nonchalant. His pupils were dilated, and his eyes snapped to meet yours when he noticed your movement upward toward him. He looked at you with a mixture of bewilderment and thirst, as though you were a god to be worshipped but also a prize to be won. You swallowed thickly as he peered into your gaze. You felt some of the stressful tension in your body turn to heat, your short temper from this morning’s castigation converting to yearning for his touch.

You wanted to push Steven onto his back. To constrain him under your weight and devour every inch of his sweet, supple skin. The rigidness inside your bones only transformed your want into an animalistic craving. You wanted to have him, to indulge your every desire surrounding his soft, toned body and his ethereal mind. You drank in the picture of his serene blushing face, allowing your longing to battle your exhaustion and surliness. What you desired from him tonight was so different from the fun that you two normally had. Typically, Steven would take the initiative in the bedroom, physically and mentally dominant though he was always gentle and unselfish. Whenever the two of you had sex, it generally happened at his pace and on his terms. Not that this was in any way unsuitable to you; it was quite sexy seeing the normally innocent and awkward Steven express such a tempered and confident authority. But tonight, despite your contentment with his normal proceedings of intimacy, you couldn’t help but want to take control. Hell, you needed control tonight. 

You decided to let him rile himself up like normal before you asserted yourself. You knew that Steven wouldn’t be opposed to submitting himself to you, though it wasn’t something he did often. You were both so comfortable in your typical roles and it's not like either of you didn’t enjoy yourselves. Still, you wanted to make sure that he was desperate enough to eagerly accept your terms. You would never take advantage of him, but you felt as though the next person to try and tell you what to do today would likely find themselves on the receiving end of your strongest right hook. No, tonight was certainly going to go how you wanted it, and you knew Steven would be happy to oblige, especially if you got him riled up enough.

With your free hand, you grasped a fistful of Steven’s shirt, pulling him forward so that his lips were on yours. Immediately, all of Steven’s constraint was lost as he pushed his weight against you, hands exploring your body as frantically as his mouth explored your own. He was always this eager to touch you, like he was holding you for the very first time, no matter how many times he’d done it before. His own exceptionally cheery day only added to his enthusiasm, evident in the way that he clung to the back of your neck and scarcely pulled away to breathe. You figured that he would have already been tearing at your clothing if your own hands against his chest and shoulder weren’t preventing him from doing so. You kissed him for a long while, trying to coax his frenzied excitement into a more drunken passion. His lips were soft against yours; he never made a move unless he was sure you were inviting it, though he was already so tightly wound that you could feel his muscles straining to hold back. You sank into his grasp, welcoming the familiar disciplined strength until you eventually had to pull away for breath. 

“Steven, honey,” You whispered to him, admiring his disheveled felicity, “I want to try something different tonight.”

“Different?” He raised his eyebrow inquisitively, a shy smile emerging in the corners of his mouth. “Different how?”

“I want…” You surveyed your mind for the right words to convey your thoughts. It seemed so simple, so obvious inside your head. You were never really good at the sweet-talking or at making requests, for that matter. You supposed that’s why this didn’t happen often. Steven had no trouble with that stuff. “I want to take control. I want to… I mean—I guess… I want to be dominant tonight. I want to be in control.”

He took a moment to process your response before a childlike grin grew upon his musing face. You heard a huff of air escape his slightly parted lips, almost reminiscent of a laugh. 

“Like a dominatrix! Oh, that sounds quite racy, doesn’t it?” He joked, and you could feel the heat burning at the tops of your ears. Steven cupped your chin, his pupils dilated with captivation. You couldn’t exactly make out his emotion, but he was certainly on board. The bulge in his sweatpants was evidence enough for that. “If that’s what you want, love. I’m more than happy to oblige. Can’t promise I’ll be the best listener, though. Familiar habits and all that. But I am down for whatever you would like. I’m all yours, darling.”

You liked his answer. Like him, you were skeptical that Steven would be able to surrender control to you completely. He was simply too enthusiastic about being with you. You were determined, though, and you were both becoming more impatient with the layers of clothing between you. At this point, your hands had fallen from Steven’s chest, though his palm still cupped your face tenderly. He stroked your cheek with his thumb, waiting for you to make any indication of how to move forward. Steven was nothing if not patient, as over-eager as he always was. You could feel him buzzing with anticipation, though, like a dog waiting for his owner to throw him a biscuit. You were sure that he would have tackled you by now if he wasn’t so respectful of your boundaries. 

“We should go somewhere more comfortable, yeah?” You unfolded your legs from his embrace, motioning to stand up off of the little couch. You led him to your shared bedroom with one of his hands interlocked in yours and by now he was having to frequently readjust himself in his grey sweats. He seemed as though he didn’t quite know where to put his hands, eager to feel your skin under his but pitifully trying not to move without your command. You turned your head to hide a small smile, as you were amused by how adorably out-of-place he seemed to be. You sat him down on the edge of your bed, grasping his hands and positioning them for him on the mattress at each side of his waist. You stood over him, lifting his chin with your pointer finger so that you could meet his gaze. You weren’t sure if you looked as authoritative as you intended, or if Steven only found your attempt at control to be adorable. Still, you felt an empowering wave of euphoria at the reversal of your usual dynamic. 

“Wait here.”

You could see Steven try not to huff at your command, so desperate already for any kind of contact. You removed your hand from his chin and he allowed his head to fall slightly, causing a few curls to cascade over his eyes. He tried to hide the hitching in his breath as you separated your touch from his body, but his impatience was evident nonetheless in his shallow, jagged breath. Backing away, you felt an unfamiliar response to his frenzied pining: pride. It felt good to have Steven wrapped around your finger. To have his pleasure be on your terms, in your time. Of course you were anxious to please him, as always, but watching him having to wait for it, to wait for your action, was a new kind of excitement. It was intoxicating. 

You stepped back, posturing yourself about a meter from where Steven sat. His gaze fell from your face to your body, filled with lust that failed to hide behind his wide, innocent brown eyes. You took the bottom of your shirt in your hands, lifting it slowly over your torso as he watched. Steven’s eyes darted rapidly between your face and your hands like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing. Still, he sat obediently with his hands to his sides as you’d placed them. You were having fun teasing him, but you were testing his patience in an unfamiliar way and it would be a miracle for him to surrender himself to you for the rest of the night. You wondered how long he would last. 

Finally, you pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your bare chest to your ravenous lover. You leaned into him for a kiss, and his hands instinctively sprang up to touch your breasts. He snaked his arm around you in an attempt to pull your weight onto him, but you held yourself upright against his grasp. You tsked against his lips, pressing your forehead against his and peering deep into his bewildered eyes. He wasn’t going to get off that easy. Not before the fun had even started. 

“So eager, baby.” You taunted him, grabbing his wrists to lead his arms back down to the bed. “Why don’t you slow it down, yeah? Let me put on a show for you, stretch out the fun. We’re not in a hurry, now, are we?”

He swallowed thickly at the words, obviously struggling to play into the new power complex. A small wave of concern washed over you, raising a thought that perhaps Steven wasn’t enjoying this. Maybe you needed to re-evaluate how you wanted tonight to proceed. The idea brought a weight into your stomach and you straightened your stance above Steven.

“Do you want me to stop, love?” You whispered to him. He furrowed his brow, letting out a breath that bordered a scoff.

“Oh, god no.” He sighed, reaching out to pull you to him before resignedly dropping his hands back down. “Just not used to letting go of it, you know? Of not being in the lead, I mean.” 

“But I want to! God, do I want to. Don’t stop, darling. I’m having the time of my life, rest assured. You know I would tell you if I wasn’t.”

With that, you hooked your finger under Steven’s t-shirt, tugging upward as he raised his arms to allow you to pull it all the way off. You grasped the base of his neck, kissing him deeply as he again struggled against his impulse to overpower you. As you moved your lips to his neck, though, Steven’s intuition overtook him and he again wrapped his arms around you, this time with a feverish strength as he threw his head backward in delight.  

Within a moment, you watched as a small tinge of shame emerged over Steven’s face. He loosened his grip on you, allowing one of his hands to drop but not pulling away completely. You sighed as you motioned to step backward from him, but something stopped you before your feet could move. An idea, a brilliant, fiendish idea lit up in your brain. 

“I want to try something.” You pulled away with haste, causing Steven to whimper and grow alert with confusion.

“How many times can you say that in one night?” A look of concern grew on his face, but it was riddled with far more fascination than worry. 

“Just tell me if it’s off-limits, okay?” You called to him, by now rummaging through the bottom of your closet. You emerged after a few long seconds with a single, small item in your grasp: a brand-new, shining pair of silver handcuffs. Steven’s eyes widened. You weren’t even sure if he’d known that you owned these, let alone that you ever intended to use them on him. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want, love. I just thought you wouldn’t have to worry so much about control.” Again, you couldn’t decipher what he was feeling from the expression on his face. He looked bewildered, but you struggled to grasp whether he more resembled a deer in headlights or a child seeing snow for the first time. Steven blushed at the sight of the cuffs, but a hint of a smile appearing on his lips indicated he wasn’t going to object.

“Have at it, love.” He murmured, and a surprising image of delight began to grow on his face as he pushed backward onto the bed. Steven looked resigned, as if your suggestion had provided the answer to all of his struggling against his usual instincts. You guessed that it did, in a way, so it wasn’t that odd to see a wave of relief pass over your partner. There was something more than relief, though, as a toothy grin appeared on Steven’s wistful face. Something more cheeky, you could see in his eyes. “You know, I’ve kind of always wanted to try these.”

“No time like the present, baby.”

It was admittedly awkward as you fumbled to cuff Steven to the headboard of your bed. By the time you had positioned him to your liking, the cuffs looped around the middle panel of the frame, the both of you had broken quite a sweat. Still, you were more than satisfied with your work. Steven’s muscles strained against the pull of the cuffs on his arms. His biceps flexing above his head were a sight to see as his breath shuttered in his chest, uneven from his anticipation as well as the slight tension on his arms. He had assured you that it was fine, that he wasn’t too uncomfortable and that it looked to be more of a struggle than it really was. Still, you were attentive to the way he tensed underneath you. You would be more concerned if he didn’t look so ravishing.

Despite his apparent discomfort, Steven looked more than satisfied with his position. His eyes were much more drunken, his cheeks blushed and his lips riddled with an ecstatic delirium. Neither of you had made it very far into the martinis that Steven had made, so his undoing was more than likely a result of his arousal. You could tell that he was painfully hard underneath his sweatpants; he writhed and bucked his hips underneath you in a fruitless attempt to gain some friction and relief. By now, your clothes were all gone apart from your underwear. Steven’s sweats and boxers still remained, much to his dismay.

“Sure you’re okay, love?” You inquired, keys in hand to release him from his restraints at his soonest request. He nodded, breathless, and bucked up at you once more, unable to hide his unyielding restiveness. 

“I’m aces, darling.” He chuckled dryly, “Bit impatient, though, yeah?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that.”

Steven whimpered as you snagged the band of his sweatpants, gasping as you tugged them down over his leaking erection. You made haste in removing them completely, tossing them to the pile of clothes you had removed from yourself moments earlier. He groaned as you pressed your palm lightly to the front of his boxers, curling his toes in feverous restraint as he tried in vain not to buck his hips again. Steven stifled a gasp as you tugged at the hem of the fabric, the cold air stinging his thighs as he sprang free from the final layer of fabric constraining him. He jerked against the cuffs that held his arms, wincing at the realization that he truly was at your mercy now. His anguish was short-lived, however, as you swiftly gripped the base of his length in your hands, taking the now-crimson tip into your mouth.

Giving head was an infrequent occurrence in your relationship. Not that you were unwilling, but Steven would never ask this of you in his normally dominant assumption of command during sex. He tended to give much more than he fought to receive, and he had derived most of his pleasure in more collaborative methods of intimacy. Collaboration wasn’t in the cards right now, though. You saw no better opportunity to focus on his pleasure. Yours was coming anyway, one way or another.

It took all of your strength to hold down Steven’s thighs, to prevent him from bucking into your mouth. Of course, he would never hurt you on purpose, and he was usually a pillar of self-restraint, but the restriction of his hands and arms disallowed him from expelling his energy any other way. He simply couldn’t help himself. You grasped his hips as tightly as you could, certain you were going to leave a mark. After a few moments of hollowing your cheeks, you decided it wasn’t worth it to counteract his strength this way. You elected instead to maneuver yourself so that you were sitting on his thighs. This proved to be much easier, though you had to arch your back more to take him. At least this way you were getting some friction too, as your own arousal was becoming uncomfortable between your legs. 

“Bloody hell, darling,” Steven whined, throwing his head back against the bed frame, “Feels… so good. My God.”

His praises did not ring unusual in your ears, but they held a wildly different meaning than normal. A string of obscenities fell from Steven’s lips as you took him entirely into your mouth. You watched in delight as he writhed underneath you, sweat beading and muscles tensing in euphoric anguish. Your hands explored his chest and belly and you could feel him heaving below them. He wasn’t going to last long like this.

You pulled off of him and sat upright, leaving him quietly whimpering as he craned his neck to stare down at you. You swiftly removed your last article of clothing, sucking in a breath of confidence as Steven met your gaze. Much to his satisfaction, you lined yourself up against his pelvis, your entrance more than prepared for him from your soaking arousal. He groaned, relaxing his neck as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. Steven’s breath hitched in his throat as you bottomed out, your thighs now resting on his hips. You leaned forward, intent on pressing a kiss to his pillowy lips, but you couldn’t help but pause to take in your head-on view of his utterly wrecked state. His damp curls framed his face in odd directions, ravaged by his thrashing as well as the sweat. His face and neck were flushed and his lips were parted as he shallowly panted against you. More than satisfied, you planted a sweet kiss on his mouth. Steven lazily reciprocated, dazed by his pleasure and resigned to his bondage. 

It was unlikely that you would have the energy to ride him properly. You tested the waters by rolling your hips upward, eliciting a choked moan from the shattered man beneath you. You set a slow pace at first, assessing your strength and endurance. Very rarely did you find yourself in this position; Steven was normally the one worried about stamina. Before long, Steven’s praises began to mix with vulgarities as they cascaded off of his tongue. You weren’t as winded as you thought you’d be.

“Feels so fucking good.” Steven exalted, grinding up into you to the best of his leverage. You propped yourself up with one hand, using the other to explore Steven’s skin. You drank in the way he stretched against the restraints, more desperate than normal and so much more vocal. You quickened your pace, chasing your own pleasure with a sovereignty you weren’t accustomed to, and Steven’s words ran together into whimpers and groans. He bucked his hips into you with as much force as he could muster, hitting your sweet spot as only he knew how despite his limitation of movement. 

In seconds, you felt your orgasm approaching, and you tightened your grip on the sheets below you. You whined as you followed your high, struggling to keep your eyes open and on the marvelous sight underneath you. As you tensed around him, though, Steven managed to grind against you with a remarkable pressure, your eyes snapped shut against your will as you released over him, practically screaming. Your muscles constricted rapidly, only adding pleasure to Steven’s experience as you rode out your orgasm. Within seconds, Steven’s hips were sputtering beneath you at a fervent rate, and an unhindered sob escaped his lips as he finished, still buried inside you. 

Both of you were still for some moments, overcome by the intensity of the culmination of your pleasure. You took a moment to steady your breath before gently lifting off of him, bending toward the side table for the keys to his handcuffs. Before you released him though, you took one final second to relish in the mess that you’d made of him. Steven was absolutely wrecked, visibly exhausted and covered in sweat, wrists inflamed from his wrestling against the metal. An exhausted smile sat upon his face though as he was obviously content with the night’s proceedings. 

“Hold still, baby,” You instructed as you unlocked the bars around his wrists. He lowered his arms slowly, partly numb from the tension and immobility they had endured. You took his hands into yours, massaging his wrists gently and surveying for any broken skin. Surprisingly, Steven was fine, though you had been sure that his thrashing would leave more damage on the surface of his skin. You supposed that there might be a small line of bruising by morning, but for the most part, he seemed to be unharmed. Apart from physical evidence, it was apparent that Steven was feeling more than okay. 

“That was fantastic.” He hummed sleepily as he pulled you to his torso and clung to you with exhausted strength. “You’re so… so beautiful, darling. So good. Hmm… so wonderful.”

You giggled softly at his obvious delirium, planting a tender kiss on the base of his collarbone. He sighed with a tempered swallow, bracing himself to sit up against the headboard. Steven inhaled slowly and deeply, trying to regain his ability to think.

“Suppose we should go tidy up, yeah?” He suggested to you, stroking your neck and shoulder, “Had quite the work-out there, didn’t we?”

“I would say so.” You agreed. You reluctantly stepped to the side of the bed, missing his warmth against you as you briefly separated. He followed suit more slowly, exasperated from the unfamiliar change of pace he’d experienced. He followed you into the bathroom, pulling towels from the cabinet as you turned the knob on the shower. You quickly peered into the mirror, marveling at your own ruined state. At this point, Steven couldn’t keep his grasp off of you, having a new appreciation for the use of his hands. You rolled your eyes at the irony, resigning yourself to the possibility that maybe the cuffs had done nothing to tame his eagerness after all. 

Before you stepped into the shower, Steven's words arrived softly in your ears. He was satisfied, for sure.

"We'll have to do that again sometime."

#moon knight #steven grant x you #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #masterlist

[nobodysdaydreams]

A Special Treat for My Wolf359 Friends: Oddly Specific Christmas Songs that Remind Me of Wolf359 Characters

Happy advent dear readers! 'Tis the season for festive head canons, and as a lover of very obscure Christmas music, here are some tunes that remind me of Wolf359 characters. I included links to all the songs listed, so have fun listening! I think most of the songs I found fit, and I found two songs per character (plus some bonus tracks...), so let me know which ones you enjoy!

I included explanations for why I think the songs fit the characters, feel free to disagree.

Side note: Please don't put any spoilers on this post, as I've only listened through season three at this point. If you want to follow my reactions to Wolf359, you can do so under the tag "#Bods Wolf359 Reactions".

Doug Eiffel- Christmas Tree On Fire / Christmas in Jail / Who Spiked the Eggnog?

Why does Doug get three songs instead of two? Simple. Because he deserves them.

The first one is 100% a Doug song. I just need to close my eyes, tweak the lyrics slightly to make them about a fire he started because he didn't do a very simple task that Minkowski asked him to do, and it's Doug singing it in a southern accent.

As for the second one, there are a concerning amount of Christmas songs about alcoholism or spending the holidays in rehab and/or jail. This made it very hard to narrow it down, but this song is specifically about going to jail for drunk driving, so...um...it fits? In a very sad way, but I feel like Doug would sing this in a drunk moment of self-loathing, that Hera and Minkowski would talk him out of.

The third song fits Doug because to be honest the whole vibe of Straight No Chaser fits Doug, and this song reminds me of when Kepler demanded an explanation of what happened to his Whiskey. This is the song Doug would sing after assuring Kepler that he would stop at nothing to find the culprit.

Hera- The Most Wonderful Day of the Year / Somewhere in My Memory

The first song is from the Rankin/Bass Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer movie. It's about toys that were built incorrectly, so they are put on an island where misfit toys go and sing about how sad they are that they don't get to celebrate Christmas with everyone else. I don't think I need to explain why this song fits Hera.

The second song is from Home Alone, and I think it fits Hera, because of the how much that one episode focused on her memories, good and bad. Plus it's a very beautiful song, and I think Hera would appreciate that. This song has a long musical intro, so you might have to listen for a bit before you get to the lyrics.

Renee Minkowski- That Christmas Morning Feeling / Have Yourself a Merry Christmas

For the first one, no, I have not seen the movie, but this song came on my Christmas recommend, and you can't tell me that Minkowski would not go for a big festive Christmas musical number.

As for the second one, it's from the musical "Meet Me In St. Louis", which I'm sure Minkowski appreciates. Any musical Christmas song would fit Minkowski, but this one is a classic.

Alexander Hilbert- The Nutcracker: Russian Dance / A Mad Russian's Christmas-Insturmental

I chose the first song from the Nutcracker, since it's a Russian ballet. I feel like Hilbert hates holidays and would only even consider tolerating classical instrumental traditional Christmas music (even though Minkowski forces him to sing carols).

The second song is also instrumental, and I mean, well, just look at the title of it.

Isabelle Lovelace- Christmas Isn’t Cancelled (Just You) / We Wish You Weren't Living With Us

For the first song: tell me you couldn't see Lovelace singing something like this to Cutter or Hilbert. Very fitting too considering Cutter ordered Hilbert to kill everyone on Christmas. Lovelace would hear about that and chose this as her revenge song. It's another song where I can close my eyes and see her singing it with slightly altered lyrics.

The second song could easily be everyone singing about any of the villains, but it would especially fit the oddly specific situation of Lovelace sarcastically threatening Hilbert when Minkowski tries to make them all play nice and sing Christmas carols together.

Warren Kepler- Christmas Whiskey / Six Cups of Eggnog

I don't need to explain my first choice. Kepler sings this song alone in his office to a full glass of Whiskey, which he saves specifically for December.

As for the second, I can see Kepler singing this to lecture the others on the proper way to enjoy a drink, even though absolutely no one asked and no one cares.

Alana Maxwell- The Season's Upon Us / I'm Getting Nuttin' for Christmas

For the first choice, I don't know much about Maxwell, but I know she doesn't talk to her family, and this seemed to fit that.

For the second choice, the song fits because Maxwell is not getting anything for Christmas, because she's dead, and she did bad things. (I'm sorry Maxwell stans, but I struggled finding songs for her, and you can't say it isn't true, though this second choice does apply to multiple characters).

Daniel Jacobi- This Christmas (I'll Burn It To The Ground) / Please Daddy (Don’t Get Drunk This Christmas)

The first one could fit a lot of villain characters, but I chose it for Jacobi because he loves explosives. That's pretty much it. I had trouble finding songs for the SI-5. But I can see Jacobi screaming this song violently at a Christmas party, right before someone brings up the subject of ducks and sends him cowering to the corner.

The second song is because Jacobi seems to have some issues with his air force father (I was tempted to use the song for Doug's daughter, but figured that would be too dark). A close second for Jacobi was "The Twelve Days of Christmas" because there are a lot of birds in that song, and I love mocking Jacobi's fear of ducks. However, decided to go with other options because A) the 12 days of Christmas is already a pretty well known song and it doesn't fit that well and B) ducks are not explicitly mentioned in the song. But if anyone knows of a Christmas tune about ducks, please drop it in the tags.

Marcus Cutter- You Ain't Getting Diddly Squat / I’m Gonna Kill Santa Clause

For the first one, the song fits mainly because of the singer's high pitched cheery voice and the way he gleefully tells a bunch of kids that Santa hates them, and they're not getting anything for Christmas. I can listen to this, close my eyes, and see Cutter singing this as he happily informs the crew that they're all about to die on Christmas.

For the second one, it's fitting because Cutter ordered the deaths of multiple employees on Christmas, and if he lived in a universe where Santa Clause did exist, he absolutely would try to kill him and take his power. The line "nothing against him, it's just business" and part of the song where he sings about the elves being his prisoners are very on point.

Miranda Pryce- I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday / I Want an Alien For Christmas

This first song choice won't make any sense to you UNLESS you've seen Black Mirror, because if you have, you'll know it makes a disturbing amount of sense. So...for those who haven't seen black mirror and are wondering how on earth this song fits her character, here's the clip to provide some context. Some horrifying, terrible terrible context.

The second song honestly fits Cutter better, but he already had two songs and doesn't deserve a third one. And I don't know as much about Miranda at this point, except she's apparently down with the whole aliens thing, so I figured it would fit here too.

Dear Listeners- Silent Night / A Spacemen Came Travelling

The first one is a Christmas song from the 1920s about a silent night. I don't feel like I need to explain this choice.

The second is a song is a gentle tune about a man from space who comes to visit baby Jesus and his mother and wish them goodwill. I also don't think I need to explain why the aliens fit this one.

Blessie (the plant monster/specimen 34)- Percy, the Puny Poinsettia / Christmas Tree Farm

Yes, any song about plants or Christmas trees in general is appropriate, but this first song is fitting not only because I'm still grieving the death of our beloved Blessie, but also because before I knew his name was Blessie, I named him "Percy the Plant" or "Percival B. Eternal".

For the second one, the singer sings about wanting to go back to a Christmas tree farm, so when I listen to it, I imagine Blessie up in space, dreaming of the day he finally reaches earth so he can be among the other plants, Christmas trees included.

Rachel Young- Elf's Lament / You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch

I don't know as much about Rachel at this point, but a song about working in unfair conditions and regretting signing up for the job you chose seems like it might fit. Whether she'd be singing it about herself or those working under her, that's up to you.

The Grinch song could be sung about many characters on the list by so many characters on this list, but I can imagine Rachel thinking of Cutter every time she hears this song even though she does work for him, and I think the song describes her as well.

BONUS TRACK 1: This one is for Eiffel's daughter, Minkowski's husband, and everyone else left back on earth missing their (presumed dead) family: Blue Christmas

Sadly, I think this one speaks for itself...

BONUS TRACK 2: This is a little tune that Doug Eiffel and I would sing to Cutter, Pryce, Kepler, Jacobi, Maxwell, Hilbert, and Rachel: Put One Foot In Front of the Other

The song is from the movie "Santa Claus is Coming to Town". It's a song where a young Santa and his animal friends encourages the evil Winter Warlock to change his ways and become a better person. Perhaps this song too could inspire many of our morally bankrupt Wolf359 friends to either grab their redemption arc, or as the song says: "walk out the door" (straight out the airlock). And it's a children's song, which I think is necessary, since so many of them seem to have trouble grasping the basics of human decency. Hopefully this will make it easier for them to understand.

#bods wolf359 reactions #wolf 359 #w359 #alexander hilbert #alana maxwell #wolf 359 spoilers #renee minkowski #doug eiffel #hera wolf 359 #wolf359 Hera #daniel jacobi #warren kepler #isabel lovelace #rachel young #miranda pryce #marcus cutter #Wolf359 #wolf359 podcast #w359 podcast #wolf359 spoiilers #podcast wolf359 #podcast w359 #hera #dear listeners #blessie #specimen 34 #the blessed eternal #blessie the plant monster

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Day 44 of Tourdust: I'm sending this from the other side of the apocalypse that just unfolded, trying to get it across while the veil is still thin, but I can't promise it will ever reach.

One thing they don't tell you about the so called Halloween 'veil' is that apparently doesn't only divide the realm of the living and the dead, but also the integrity of the timeline. Somehow, earlier than we expected to have news of our trick or treaters at the scene, we were informed they were witnessing a show from the pre-hiatus, or rather, what would have been the pre-hiatus until The Pumpkin King From The Chicago Hardcore Scene returned, in all his sunglasses-wearing milfy glory, to once again scream lyrics onstage.

Once this event unfolded it didn't take long for ghost sightings to be reported at the Pvris retirement home. At first we thought we knew what awaited, with one of them wearing a baseball cap, the ones of us most versed in tinfoil hatmaking considering perhaps at worst they were covering their costumes with sheets.

But we soon realized he was too tall to be our dear melodramatic femme fatale's dead soulmate (again); and then there were more of them. It was soon clear that ghost tricks had been summoned to obfuscate what the pumpkin king had in store for the trick or treaters, and for all of us, attending from our dear Andy's phone.

On the palm of his hand we were standing when we saw just how high the levels of sillyness were: we were safe from those ghosts for they had been busted by a sexy sexy guitar, a crack of lightning beat in time with the drums, and undoubtedly the big bad grandmilf wolf from shrek had been responsible, in his soulmate exalting poetry, of chanting the name of a star thrice. After all this tour trying to keep a semblance of matching, it's more than earned that tonight of all nights they'd each embody a wildly different member of a wildly different group.

Usually we receive critical hits of damage around the time Patrick gets his little moment to shine. We didn't even make it to the riff this time.

Faster than Beetlejuice became just a regular eyeliner wearing spirit, our werewolf turned into this ethereal human (perhaps evocative of being lost into dreamland in his nightgown, perhaps that's owed to the fantasy land he constructed around them), more an apparition of a lost soul handing out candy to the kids rather than the implied threat of a furry posing as a grandmother trying to trick us. And as the latter started singing the ever haunting tunes of Heaven, Iowa, cameras soon panned to the spot where Pete usually sits alone, as the now wigless, armourless, but just as toned god of thunder enveloped him in a hug, capturing both of them laughing, perhaps comforting each other, certainly having fun, before Thor bolted just in time to avoid missing his cue.

We know better than to make deals with devils, i promise, we do. No matter how good they look in eye makeup. But, sometimes it IS worth making a deal with Beetlejuice to get him to play I'm Like A Lawyer for our streamer. Besides, it's not like the pumpkin king, who would use the distraction of the new and devastating "when i woke up next to you" to turn into his skeletal form, would let any marriages come of it. Well, unless it's for the bit, or you mishear him state his intentions to be engaged himself to this devil. Wouldn't be the wildest thing he's said on riff. Truly, a second riff with Patrick was the greatest treat of the night and he damn well knows it, he's always been good at knowing his subjects.

And The Magic 8 Ball has always been good at knowing when to throw us for a loop. We thought 'surely. if it's reset, that means new rules will not keep showing up.' and oh how wrong we were. 'You will cover Halloween for Halloween' it told them, not giving them more than a day to practice a song that wasn't even theirs. 'And by the way, fuck the legal system' it added, for good measure, despite the lights not being as sexy as they were last time.

By the non-encore encore the only sensible member of this ragtag group, who managed to keep his full attire was the ghostbuster, the sounds from his guitar as effective as any proton pack, as powerful as the thunderous beat Thor kept on the drums.

And so it was time to end the night of trick or treating. The skeleton's bones rattled as his hips swayed, roses clung like vines intertwined with his rib cage, and a bony elbow pressed against this demon who could have been the devil himself 12 years ago, but certainly looked happier now. In spite of it all, it was Saturday again.

#the tourdust chronicles