#these two boys have been together for DECADES at this point and it FUCKING SHOWS

[hitlikehammers]

take the call

rating: t ♥️ cw: off-screen car accident (but EVERYTHING IS FINE), hurt/comfort, softness ♥️ tags: established relationship, married steddie, hurt/comfort, rockstar Eddie/teacher Steve, Steve's heart of gold is very possibly going to be Eddie's undoing one of these days, well-worn-soul-deep love

for @steddielovemonth day eighteen: Love is terrifying (@starryeyedjanai)

set in the 00s, with Steve and Eddie having two decades of loving under their belts, now ♥️

Eddie isn’t expecting a call, any call, really; he’s in the studio, like, if he gets a call someone takes a message or whatever.

And in fairness, Eddie doesn’t get the call.

He gets a message.

“Eddie?”

He rolls his eyes kinda automatically, kinda thoughtlessly at the cut of the audio track to let the mic system override from outside the booth.

“Okay, so, like, don’t freak out.”

He’s not thoughtless at all about the way he clocks the tension in Jeff’s voice even across the speaker system; it’s entirely automatic how he freezes, how he looks up and locks eyes with his friend through the glass and sucks in a sharp breath for the look on his face: pained.

Maybe, maybe scared.

Eddie’s heart drops somewhere near his knees, but beats there so fucking hard.

“This lady called, and she said she found Lainie’s card inside the case of a phone she picked up,” and okay, okay, that’s…that’s random but maybe it’s about their assistance manger, who just got her contract confirmed and got fancy new business cards for it and has been handing them out to everybody she sees, even gave Eddie extras to pass on to Steve, maybe he can share them at the school as if anyone at even a hoity-toity private 6-through-12 school would have a reason for a card from a record label but she’s excited, and Eddie’s excited for her, and Steve loves the people Eddie works with, and not just because they’re attached to Eddie and he loves the things that come with Eddie as a given—but that’s also true, and always has been, but—

“She, um,” Jeff’s voice is filtering through again, and Eddie clocks that there’s…there’s something more to it, more than his brain’s willing to grasp just yet but his body’s apparently picked up on because he thinks the slightest breeze would knock him over and shatter him into pieces, for the tightness in his body; he’s not focused enough to count the separate beats of his pulse but he can tell it’s quick enough already, still weighed down near his feet, that counting would be kinda hard, would take effort:

“She found the phone at a car crash?”

So: the more-to-it. The thing his body already knew.

Eddie…Eddie doesn’t even need to know what comes next to know he cannot fucking breathe.

“Sounded kinda like, uh, like it could have been Steve’s phone,” Jeff is trying to tell him, and part of Eddie hears it, part of him does but most of him is white noise, is pins-and-needles, is underwater and drowning and not even fucking thinking of fighting the pull because he can’t, he’s heavy at the legs and his lungs are seizing and there’s, he’s—

“Because it, umm, she found the card because the case was broken?” and just last night Eddie’d watched Steve pop off the case and slide the cards behind with a laugh and a promise to take them with him not today—because it’s one of those federal holidays that only schools notice happening, like the post office is still open—but definitely tomorrow, never knew which of the kiddos at the Rich People School might be a budding metalhead underneath their uniforms—

“And she said the case was, um, like bright—“

Green.

Electric lime neon fuckin’ green because after three times of Eddie taking Steve’s phone by accident he’d come home with that endearing eyesore, and a kiss to the bridge of Eddie’s nose and a soft hard to confuse that, babe nuzzled against him and—

“It could maybe have just been a coincide—“ Jeff’s talking but Eddie can’t fucking hear it, not really, not when he’s letting the door slam behind him and ripping off his headphones to drop to the groundnut when he’s gasping hard enough to crack a rib, not when the floor’s gone out from underneath him and his vision’s tunneled and nothing seems real, and everything feels too real, every world ending possibility shuddering through his foggy mind alongside every heartbreakingly perfect memory blossoming up unbidden just to serve as a reminder, an underscoring of what he stands to lose, what maybe he’s already fucking lost—

He meets Jeff’s eyes without the glass between them as he grabs his keys from his jacket on the couch and makes himself take the breath that’ll fuel the voice, that’ll give him words, just one word, he needs, he fucking needs—

“Where?”

_______________________

Eddie shouldn’t have driven himself, he knows that.

Like, on some other plane of existing, he’s sure he knows that.

But on this plane, he rips past his bandmates, all the extra people with them for recording, jams the close-door button before anyone can follow him into the elevator because he happens to know this one’s quicker than the stairs even on a good day, and this—

Eddie’s shaking so goddamn hard he can barely get one foot in front of the other, he really doesn’t think he can manage ten fucking flights of steps.

He burns rubber on the way out of the parking lot, and the nearest hospital to where Steve would have been—on his day off, because holiday, he’d have bene close to home, he mentioned food shopping, he thought he might make stir-fry but he wasn’t sure, they hadn’t made a vegetable haul from the Asian market downtown in a couple weeks and they need to, they need to but Steve wasn’t feeling like going on his own, because he might not say it out loud but they both know he enjoys Eddie’s excitability when new items hit the shelves and he can’t read the language they’re labelled in so he guesses frantically until the man who owns the place takes pity, only laughs a little and explains what this spice is for, or that that crazy looking thing’s a fruit, and they ultimately buy whatever it is because Eddie wants to try it now, because he got invested and—

Eddie should pull off the fucking road; his head’s a mess, he can’t see for the way his eyes are welling, streaming, the way he’s shaking with sobs that don’t exactly burst forth, just leak from his lashes as he trembles horrifically because…

Because they were maybe gonna have stir-fry, tonight. Even without the good vegetables.

They were—

Eddie thinks it’s fucking cruel, kind of unbearably so, that his brain’s dead-set on still processing the mundane little perfections of his life as if every single one of them might be dashed to pieces, might be hanging by a thread, might be entirely fucking gone, and he, he…

He can’t. He just, he fucking can’t.

Because that the thing, isn’t it: the scenarios he’s imagining aren’t hypothetical—they’re all memories, too. Steve bloodied, Steve bruised, Steve’s bones broken and flesh torn. Steve still, too still; Steve’s skin under Eddie’s hands when he can’t find a pulse because Eddie’s shaking, same as now how Eddie is fucking shaking—

Eddie knows all those things. They’re so long ago, now, so distant but his fucking cells will never forget every single moment he saw the man he loves bigger than his own goddamn life hurt like that; be risked like that. Be lost like—

And that’s the difference. That’s what is unravelling him as he speeds through the streets quicker than he should, probably breaking more laws than he could count and definitely more than he gives a shit to notice: it’s the losing.

Because the first times, even the times that came after Steve was his: they didn’t come with the loss of so much time, so much of themselves, so much glorious life that they’d built between them, the struggles and the triumphs, the hard choices and the easy things that weren’t choices at all: everything hand-in-hand, every night spent curled around each other, all of them, all of him, inside that chest since he was twenty fucking year old, and Eddie doesn’t just not know how to be outside of what he shares with Steve.

Eddie doesn’t think his own heart can survive, if if Steve’s isn’t next to him.

Eddie’s damn fucking sure no part of him would want to.

It takes him a minute to steady himself enough to get out of the car, once he finally reaches the ER. Steady his body, but more his fucking soul because the whole of him is shaking, is crying out, is wailing unfettered and breaking because he’s terrified, he is goddamn terrified of what he’s going to find when he walks in but he has to, he has to because whatever awaits him, that’s his husband, that is the love of his whole goddamn life and if the worst is going to come for him he’ll face it like he’s faced everything else: at Steve Harrington’s side.

If the worst comes for one of them, then it came for them both.

So he’s stumbling, shuddering, but resolute in his chest when he flies through the sliding doors, eyes still swimming, unfocused but he makes himself take a deep breath—it takes a few tries, and he doesn’t quite succeed, it’s still a tremorous thing and his lungs are still in revolt, but it’s something, and he’ll take something; he has to to take something—

“Eddie?”

He almost doesn’t register it, the voice from the sick-spiral of his memories, all the love on the table to be forfeit—

He almost doesn’t register that his name’s not coming from inside his head.

“Oh my god, what happened?” There’s a flurry over motion in front of him, and he blinks rapidly to try and pin it down because it looks familiar, it smells familiar, it aches familiar in his chest but:

“What is it, what’s wrong?” and fuck, it feels familiar when a hand reaches for his cheek where it’s still damp, tacky for the tears; when another hand slides itself into Eddie’s and draws him in, a hand that fits like no other hand in this world or any other, ever—

“Are you okay?”

And the hand on his cheek turns him and follows his eyes and it takes that long for him to clear his vision properly, but now he’s just blinking so much because that, that can’t be, even if it feels in every goddamn way like it really is, but it can’t…

It can’t be Steve here, whole and on his feet and looking at Eddie with so much worry, so much heart as he tilts Eddie’s chin a little this way, that way, squints to try and see…something.

Eddie’s breath tears out of him in a wet fucking gasp;

“Am I okay?”

Because Eddie’s really not the one to fucking worry about here, Steve had—

“You’re in a hospital, Eds, that’s not usually where you go when you’re okay,” Steve’s eyes widen as he he slides both hands now to Steve’s head, holding him still and assessing…something, maybe, Jesus: Eddie doesn’t know, but he does know that the touch on him now makes his…makes his heart feel safe and he’d been fucking terrified he’d never feel that again.

“Fuck, what happened, baby, did you hit your,” and fingers are dancing gentle across points on Eddie’s skull, so delicate and careful and he can’t fucking help it—

“Are you real?”

Because he needs to know, he needs to know with words because this feels…this feels right and warm and impossible but also true, so.

He needs to know. “Am I…?” Steve’s lips part and his brow furrows before his jaw clenches in that dependable way he has of squaring up to the monster at hand, no matter the kind.

“Shit,” he breathes out slow but then he nods: resolved; “shit, okay. Okay, let’s find—“

“You are real,” and it turns out Eddie didn’t actually need him to say it. He just needed to see the flash in Steve’s eyes when he was ready to take on the world for the sake of love, the way he positions himself a little different in front of Eddie as he keeps one hand at Eddie’s cheek but then slides to brace more at his neck, purposeful, like he’s splinting a wound or something, and then a hand grabs for Eddie’s own again and: oh.

Oh yes. That is Steve Harrington, living and breathing and solid and real, because no one else protects like this.

No one.

Eddie’s heart stumbles, jackrabbits around a little, almost like a reset: like it knows as the implications sink in to Eddie’s mind that it’s not destined to break anymore.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees too easily, distracted as he tugs the gentlest bit at Eddie’s hand, toward the nurse’s station; “yeah, and we should—“

“And you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Steve shrugs it off, but Eddie…Eddie’s vision is clearing. His pulse is settling. He can hear above the static and his limbs are getting lighter.

“You’re one-hundred-percent okay, not a scratch on you, not a single thing wrong,” he needs to make sure, like, so fucking sure.

“I am fine, Eddie,” Steve turns to look him straight on, exasperated and anxious and vibrant with it, so alive in it; “but you’re—“

Eddie’s hand moves almost without his conscious consent, definitely without a plan to grab at Steve’s arm and pinch his skin because Eddie was vaguely toying with the idea of pinches himself, and maybe with poking Steve a few extra times to make sure he didn’t disappear, but apparently his brain landed on: pinch Steve, avoid confirmation bias if your head wants to lie enough to make him real just you you, because you need him that bad.

Steve startles, and turns those beautiful brilliant bronze eyes on Eddie, stretches wide as he gapes a little at his husband.

Eddie…Eddie is here, in front of his living-breathing-gorgeously-aghast husband.

“Okay, oww,” Steve drops Eddie’s hand and pulls back, leaving Eddie’s head to its own devices as he looks a little shocked, shooting just shy of a glare Eddie’s way: full of questions.

Eddie—now that the biggest one’s solved, and solved so perfect, so gentle and sure and he doesn’t have to bury the soul of him; he doesn’t have to bury his soul—but now?

Eddie also has some fucking questions.

“Where’s your phone?” seems the most relevant to start with.

Steve blinks, frowns a little:

“It got lost in the crash—“

“Crash?” Eddie’s tone pitches up to squeak a little because: Steve’s here and whole in from of him, yes. But fuck, there was still a crash? He was—

“Not mine, my car’s still parked at fucking Jiffy Lube,” Steve adds with a huff; “I saw it happen so I stopped and—“

And Eddie knows his husband. He knows his husband better than he knows himself, and Eddie’s kinda made it a point of pride for how self-aware he’s grown to be these days, in living this life and loving Steve beyond the bounds of living at all. But he knows his Steve, and so he knows damn well what happened.

Car runs into car. Steve sees it and jumps out to help. Because Steve Harrington is a protector. Steve Harrington is a helper. Steve Harrington is the best man Eddie’s ever known.

Soon as he jumped into the fray, he wouldn’t have thought once about a fucking phone.

And Eddie, Eddie just, he needs to—

He grabs Steve’s hands and wraps them around his own waist, lets them go and then pulls Steve tight to his chest and buries his face in Steve’s shoulder as Eddie winds his way around his husband, feels him breathing, feels the tickle of his hair.

“You’re gonna kill me, Stevie,” Eddie whimpers, that going tight now all over again:

“You’ve got the biggest heart of fucking gold the world’s ever seen,” he moans into Steve’s collar; “and you’re going to fucking kill me.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but his hands move up to rub Eddie’s back, rote and learned and he might not wholly get, yet, what Eddie’s putting together, and where Eddie’s head’s been, what his heart’s been through, but the first thing he knows, and does like clockwork, is to love of his partner, to soothe him even if he doesn’t know what for.

“Someone found your phone, and they, umm,” Eddie licks his lips, takes a suffering breath and tries to straighten but he’s not ready, not yet: he slumps right back onto Steve’s shoulder:

“They called the studio.”

“Shit,” Steve hisses, bunches his hands in Eddie’s shirt and draws him tighter to his chest: “shit, they interrupted,” and oh, fuck no, fuck regretting the interruption—

“They told me they found it at a crash site,” Eddie grits out, the hurt of it still raw, like just saying the words no matter where they landed in trust, just recalling those minutes that felt like full nightmarish lifetimes, reopens the tender wounds it’d left in hims; “they found it with the case broken,” and Steve leans back, then, eyes saucers as he meets Eddie’s gaze, breath catches harsh.

“Oh,” Steve whispers, eyes darting back and forth between Eddie’s, taking the whole of him in and then he exhales so heavy:

“Oh, babe,” he murmurs, fucking mournful before he takes his hands and links them behind the base of Eddies’ skull and draws him in to the center of his chest, envelopes him there whole: “come here.”

And Eddie falls into that chest—rising-falling-living—he falls into Steve so fucking fast

“I am totally fine, I promise you,” Steve breathes again Eddie’s ear, close and dear and real: “car’s fine—“

“I don’t fucking care about the car—“ Eddie tenses up, appalled at the implication that he gave one single goddamn thought to the car— “No, like, as proof,” Steve’s quick to correct him, to ease the hackles on him; “I wasn’t in the crash, but it was pretty bad and,” Steve shrugs a little then adds soft: “I keep my first aid certs up to date for a reason, I figure, right?”

Jesus; yes, okay. Steve’s savior complex had largely mellowed to a non-interdimensional-threat level with time but he’s meticulous about keeping every skillset he’d gone out of his way to learn from professionals before they’d gone up against the Upside Down for the last time sharp and at the ready for anything: even now.

Fuck, but this beautiful, brilliant, impossible man.

“I was helping, best I could, until the EMTs got there,” Steve tells him softly, fills in the gaps because he knows Eddie’s mind, all the pictures it paints for itself, and in times like these it’s always the worst possible pictures—he knows Eddie needs the slate wiped clean with the truths, blessedly softer, in this:

“Police wanted me to stick around for a statement but the girl who was driving the first car, she was so panicked and she didn’t want to go alone so, umm,” Steve huffs a little, shifts against Eddie gentle and solid and here: “she said she knew me, she was pretty desperate I think, so I rode here with her,” and of course he did, of course he did because he’s Steve; “now I’m just waiting to make sure she gets out of surgery okay,” he squeezes Eddie then, like a punctuation, and it feels so, so fucking good; “also still have to give the goddamn statement, but fuck knows that’s just hurry-up-and-wait,” he turns, and he kisses Eddie’s hair then and Eddie feels something snap in him, give way and the lingering tension spill from his frame as he gasp a little on a breathy exhale:

“I love you so much,” and he does, god: god, but how much he loves this man.

“I love you too, baby,” Steve mouths against his head and Eddie closes his eyes and nuzzles his a little closer as he puts it into words, because it feels like he needs to, it feels like in Steve’s arms like this, pressed up close to him to feel this undeniable life in him: it feels like the coast is clear enough to risk it, to confess:

“I was so fucking scared,” and the words only break a little, and that’s more than Eddie honestly expected.

“I am so sorry,” Steve bows his chin down to graze lips against Eddie’s hairline, delicate and intimate and shivery, trembly down Eddie’s spin for the best of reasons, now.

“Not your fault,” Eddie’s quite to counter, to make clear, because: “shit, you didn’t do anything, I just…”

Eddie makes himself pull back and meet Steve’s eyes, reaches out to frame his face, dear and desperate:

“I can’t lose you,” he moans a little, begs a little, says it with a bare line of something primal echoing in it, scraped straight from his bones: “I cannot ever lose you.”

“I know,” Steve turns and kisses one of his palms, and those two words hold the promise of five more they’ve said so many times, and held so true between them for so many year, through so fucking much:

It’s the same for me.

And to be loved the same as he loves is a fucking privilege; it’s heady and it’s wonderful and Eddie needs it, needs Steve, more than goddamn air.

“Sit with me?” Steve covers Eddie’s hands with his at his cheeks, and nods a little toward the blessedly-quiet collection of chairs by the windows; “while I wait?”

“Nowhere else I’d go,” Eddie says it like the given that it is, and pulls Steve close to kiss him full, to press his lips to Steve’s and drink his warmth, his breath, to feel it sink int past his heart and pump through his veins:

“Not ever, Stevie,” he speaks against Steve’s lips, all of him in it, every vow inside it:

“Not ever.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hurt/comfort #established relationship #established steddie #married steddie #rockstar eddie munson #teacher steve harrington #rockstar husbands #steve harrington's heart of gold #(will quite possibly be the death of his husband holy FUCK) #criminal levels of softness #steddielovemonth #love is terrifying #these two boys have been together for DECADES at this point and it FUCKING SHOWS #old married couple!steddie #stranger things

[omegalomania]

ok listen obviously like everyone else i am Fucking Devastated but the fucking sHRIMPLICATIONS here are KILLING me.

the two last "new" songs we got before the hiatus were alpha dog and from now on we are enemies (equally fucked up song btw) and pete namedrops alpha dog as the last song they wrote before the hiatus and it's such a. it's SUCH a fucking. augh.

like it's so painfully and clearly a farewell. the lyrics all telegraph it. your time has passed. never means forever. walk off into the sunset. the discussion of how much effort is required to maintain this life and how they already feel burned out, past their prime when they were all in their mid-twenties and early thirties. and the sheer fucking POETRY of the way it was the last song they recorded - tell rock and roll i'm alone again - until they announced their triumphant return with save rock and roll in 2013. welcome to the new déjà vu.

and oh yeah the last word issued in the song's studio version is the word "abracadabra," which pete cites as the word that christian bales character in the film “the prestige” says he will utter before he disappears from prison. "abracadabra" was a key word in the viral ARG-esque marketing campaign leading up to the release of believers never die...right before fall out boy seemingly vanished off the very face of the earth.

and, OH YEAH, the first shows they played after reuniting involved a multi-song medley spanning all the stages of their career, with one of those songs being the first time they ever played alpha dog, albeit partially.

the notion of the wizard through the curtain speaking to a sense of bitterness (at least if pete's ten year old genius annotation is anything to go by) which is the exact same phrasing to the way joe would later talk about the band's fraught, strained feelings leading up to the hiatus in a podcast with kerrang while promoting his book.

many people have pointed out the parallels between flu game and alpha dog - the way they both discuss the exhaustion of being so visible and constantly putting yourself out there and how taxing that is, especially when you're simultaneously trying to cover up how hard it is. how isolating it is, when the whole world is squinting against the starlight feathering off you. it's worth noting that these parallels are not merely implicit, either. "flu game" is in and of itself an explicit reference to a famous game michael jordan played while sick in which he claimed that he didn't want to give up, no matter how sick and tired he was. and how did pete annotate a specific couplet, ten years ago?

we must make it hard to look so easy doing something so hard

another explicit reference to michael jordan, years and years prior.

and this is the first time they've ever played alpha dog in full. nearly 15 full years after the hiatus started. by now, fall out boy have been together for far longer than they've ever been apart. by now, fall out boy has been in their "posthiatus" era for longer than they have their "prehiatus" one.

i dont really have a conclusion to this. just, i dunno man. something about the repeated lyric "never means forever" on a greatest hits compilation titled "believers never die." something about i'm a star vs. so much for stardust vs. no more stardust. something about motifs that span decades, that span years of hurt and cracked-open wounds that have now been poured over with liquid gold, mending them anew. something about reclaiming old scars and ugly histories and reforging them into something filled with streaming starlight and sun-drenched smiles.

abracadabra.

#*making poasts #id in the alt text #im pure fucking wrecked about this in case you couldnt tell. im also tired as hell #this might not be articulate to anyone else but im feeling a certain type of way abt it #fucked up for them to debut this one in full when i tumblr user omeglomania was not even there. fucked UP.

[meanbossart]

do you have any thoughts on cazador as a character? personally i really loved the parallels between him and astarion & the way that the master/spawn relationship is used as an allegory for cyclical abuse. the scene with cazador’s master’s skull where you find out that he was once victimized in the exact same way that he later victimized astarion was really a lightbulb moment for me re: what vampirism represents in this game.

BOY DO I, i don't think much of it hasn't already been said, though. He's a tragic character in his own right of course, not that that takes away from the awful man he is.

Me and my boyfriend make fun of him a lot, we call him "the best BG3 character" as a little inside joke between us and come up with ridiculous scenarios of things that might have occurred throughout those 200 miserable years the spawn had under his command lol. Maybe he had a month where he was really specific about the shoes everyone wore, maybe once every other decade he had a weird week where he tried to be "nice" only to become frustrated when his efforts weren't immediately met in kind by the rightfully-terrified spawn, maybe between all the torture and horrific-ness he just did some plain weird shit like making someone crouch by in his fainting couch and wait by open-handed for grapes that he dramatically chewed on and then spat right out since he can't actually eat them lmao

And that's hysterical but I think we also started doing that because when you meet Cazador, when you first hear his voice and see his demeanor in person your immediate reaction is probably somewhere along the lines of "THIS is the clown you were so scared of, Astarion?"

And the answer is, of course, yes. This embarrassing little man stuck in a cage of his making instills fear beyond comprehension in Astarion and all his siblings. This man who undoubtedly showed all these spawn, inadvertently, the strangest, most arguably "human" aspects of himself at some point or another during these two centuries they had together is also an absolute monster. And i really like that! I think its far more effective and fitting for his story than if he was, lets say, a Ketheric type.

(this got very long so, more under the cut)

Look at Ascended Astarion in the epilogue now, for example. Everyone agrees that he's an absolute fucking dork - and I think we all also agree that he will go on to destroy the lives of many people beyond repair, especially his own, until the day he is killed.

In the topic of vampirism as an allegory for abuse, I both agree and also don't, at least not exactly - i just think it's deeper than that. I've spoken about this in another post but i find it incredibly refreshing how, to me, it seems like Baldur's Gate 3 has no interest in painting vampirism as sexy or fun past a surface level. It's a curse that nobody asks for unless put in a situation where they feel as if they have no other way out, and it shapes and haunts you for the rest of your undead existence.

Even if you enjoy its benefits at first, that has a time limit. You will see your family and loved ones die, you will see culture evolve while you stay perpetually the same. You will experience so much hurt and pain because the only thing that makes life truly sweet is knowing that it is finite, and eventually it will wear down all of your humanity. And since you can't die unless you are scorched by the sun, staked, or dismembered, you must live with the knowledge that you will never have a peaceful death - and since you won't have a peaceful death, you better not die - and if you don't want to die, you better not be weak - and if you don't want to be weak, you must seek out power at all cost and slash things like love and friendship out of your life.

And what is funny, is that in his attempt to be more like a mortal - to eat, drink, walk the sun, such incredibly simple desires - Cazador (and Astarion, if he ascends) is accidentally only drawing further away from the person he supposedly once was, because that fear of weakness has already utterly corrupted his soul.

That's quite a grim way to look at it, of course. But I genuinely think that it is the natural conclusion of something like immortality.

That's why I quite like that, even after Astarion has found happiness, even after he finds his peace, he still doesn't exactly embrace being a vampire - because It's not something he should be expected to embrace. I think it's a very unique take on the trope.

I also want to leave here this message written by his character writer, which really got me thinking about him on a deeper level since i saw it months ago. It is specifically about the sexual aspect, but I think it branches beyond it too, when you think about it.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #text #ask #cazador szarr

[thesunfyre4446]

Marrying Daemon was the dumbest thing she could have done. It solved no problems just made the existing ones more glaring.

First, if Laenor had been alive the Driftmark succession would not have been brought into question (Yet, it eventually would have always) as after Corlys, it goes to Laenor. It would’ve freed up some years or decades and Luke could’ve idk- actually gone to the fucking island he was set to eventually rule over or learn to sail. Maybe endear himself to some more people because as much as certain viewers like to pretend otherwise, Corlys was the only Velaryon happy to spit in the eyes of his ancestors sit that boy on the Driftwood throne.

Two, Viserys would not have had to use his last breath and final braincell to go to the throne room to help Rhaenyra usurp the Velaryons. He probably would’ve lived a little while longer and maybe this time he would’ve died quietly without uttering nonsense about a prophecy the Targaryens should not have even been involved with in the first place.

Rhaenyra could’ve maybe got her shit together and stopped living in a lalaland where she thought she would just be handed things because she’s *checks notes*

-A Targaryen

-She has a Dragon

-Daddy said so

But we know she wouldn’t, the entitlement runs deep. She would’ve stayed on Dragonstone where she’s ruling over a castle of employees sworn to her and a small merchant/fisher’s village. Rhaenyra lived in bliss on that island for a decade with no responsibilities.

Three, when you raise the Strong boys alongside their brothers and especially alongside Rhaena- who is literally a Targaryens/Velaryon child who is what the strong boys are actually supposed to look like, it becomes so obvious that the boys are bastards of non Valyrian parentage.

The only one who won in this arraignment was the Child groomer. He got the woman he spent years grooming as a child and he got a heir and a spare. Let’s pretend in a fairytale world where the Greens don’t crown Aegon and they slink off to whatever corner of the world TB think they deserve to after Viserys dies. The history books would write about the series of freak accidents that took Rhaenyra’s first 3 sons until Little Aegon was the heir.

i honestly don't have anything to add anon. 100% agree with everything you've said.

rhaenyra is a horrible politician. her marriage to laenor kept the velaryon alliance and secured driftmark for her son. if laenor was alive, vaemond wouldn't have called for a petition, and rhaenyra wouldn't have to marry the strongs to the dragon twins. she could've arranged for marriages with other important houses like baratheon or lannister and win their support. also, by having legitimate sons with daemon she harmed jace, Joffrey and luke's legitimacy and position. especially jace.

your point about the strong boys parentage being even more obvious next to baela and rhaena is sooooo true. as if they didn't already stand out enough, raising them alongside the velaryons that they're usurping is ridiculous.

i really don't understand the people that are saying that rhaenyra is a good ruler because she managed dragonstone. dragonstone is a little island with a couple of villages surrounding it. you can't possibly compare it with ruling SEVEN KINGDOMS. (and even dragonstone turned against rhaenyra in the end, but i digress) rhaenyra thinking she's prepared to rule shows just how clueless she really is (she even says in ep 8 she doesn't know anything about ruling a kingdom lol)

i don't think that rhaenyra's decision to marry daemon was necessarily politic. i mean yeah he's a dragonrider and a soldier, but his loyalty was never an issue because he would never never never NEVER side with the greens (aka otto). the marriage def did more harm then good for rhaenyra, and the main benefactor was daemon.

#house of the dragon #hotd #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anti daemyra #anti daemon targaryen #anti team black #asks

[worstqueerbaittournament]

Before you complain about the picture: I asked people to send in better pictures of Grif and Simmons and NOBODY DID

Submission message for Janis: Mean Girls  - Janis + Person who submitted Janis here. Yes, I meant the movie. The whole time it is implied she's a lesbian only for her to end up with a dude lol

Submission message for Grif and Simmons: Hi! I’m submitting Grif and Simmons from Red vs. Blue. I think they’re the worst personally because I’ve spent a third of my life being queerbaited by someone’s fucking halo ocs.

Additional propaganda: Meanwhile Janis from Mean Girls IS queerbaiting:

    She’s presented as a lesbian throughout the film

    She gets very emotionally attached to girls and tries to sabotage them after they ‘betray’ her and become more interested in boys/popularity (Regina in the past, Cady during the film)

    Proudly declares herself a “big lesbo” to half the school during her trust-fall scene

    Wears a suit to Prom and kisses her gay best friend Damien, they both show complete disgust afterwards

    But in the LITERAL LAST SCENE OF THE FILM, she’s shown dating a guy and kissing him.

((I also haven’t seen the musical yet, so I can’t comment there))

Vote Janis, she’s the only right answer.

this ain't enough information about Grif and Simmons; these two are literally the intro character for the entire series. The first conversation they had became a running joke and repeating theme to the point that, years later, it was used in a dramatic moment so Grif could identify Simmons while fight an evil look-alike. When one of them got injured, the other donated various body parts, including skin and organs, and then became a cyborg, thus having the metaphor of "becoming part of each other" and "you have my heart". They still bicker constantly and and trade insults. They've been glued at the hip for more than a decade. The one time they were split up, it was treated like a devastating divorce, with one of them using the line "I quit you". They then both proceeded to have mutual pining and emotional withdrawl from being apart because they're just THAT codependent. They've been forced to share living space, and immediately devolved into having old-married-couple situations. During a planet-wide sex party, they fooled around in a closet, everybody knows this happened, but they refuse to fully acknowledge it. The VA for Grif even plainly stated that "Grif is in love with Simmons". Simmons once mentioned that he and Grif carved their initials into a tree. When we see the "inner worlds" of their minds, Grif's is almost empty except for a tiny Simmons that runs around to annoy him, and Simmons imagines a Grif that has to do whatever he says, but STILL insults him because Grif can't stop being Grif.They had a talk show together and even called themselves their ship-name "Grimmons". They've been having one long conversation for 2 decades. They're slow-burning like a tire fire. They're married, but they'll never properly get together. IT'S BEEN 2 DECADES

Let's not forget Tucker's actually-in-the-show commentary when he's spying on them over the radio of "I've only been listening to them for five minutes but I can tell they're really in love. Why can't they see it?”

It's literally been two decades.

#janis #janis mean girls #mean girls #simmons x grif #red vs blue #tournament

[hellkitepriest]

ee @ rough trade nottingham

finally getting to my little roundup several days later, hello. i must say going to nottingham was a real Choice for @shallowtboy and i, because it is not actually that convenient and close like liverpool is, and i mostly justified it with “well i went there to see dutch uncles in december so it’d be rude not to”. but we woke up and got on our stupid early train regardless.

went to an art gallery beforehand, found a copy of mark fisher’s capitalist realism in the gift shop — alex niven first read capitalist realism in january 2010, following a “head-on collision with the music industry”, did you know. saw a very cute pin of kraftwerk-style cats and nearly cried also.

when we queued up outside the venue (venue! it was Just A Shop) there were a good few people there already and we were glad we got down there when we did. doors were meant to be at 12, but they ended up letting us in half an hour later for some reason, which meant by the time we got in we had descended into some cold-induced madness that manifested in us humming the mad stone and bobbing up and down oompa loompa-style to keep warm for just. SO long. this bit would not cease.

we got in, and we weren’t Right at the front but we were close enough, and there was no barrier aside from the flightcases dumped on the ground, and i had to prepare myself for being waaay too close to jonathan higgs. which i WAS. i believe it was albie on here who said that if you’re in the first two rows at any of these shows you will end up making eye contact with this man, and yeah, that only gets truer if he already sorta knows who you are. EMBARRASSING.

it was a good show — not as rowdy and sweaty as liverpool, but what can you expect from a show at midday on a weekday, really. they played teletype at this one(!!! it’s not on my Playlist for nothing), and pizza boy, and i had a bottle of pepsi in my bag and turned to shallowtboy and took a big swig of it at the right moment because really i come to these gigs to have my own incomprehensible kind of fun with my best friend, and it was Funny. only then in the next chorus jon sang “you are afraid / that you’re a pepsi boy” which i did not really register until After, when shallowtboy pointed it out, and i had to contend with the fact jonathan higgs may well have seen me drinking my pepsi (i was about six feet away from him, he probably did,) and decided to make a thing of it. good god. gender win 🤷‍♂️

after the show it was signing time and we all verrry slowly shuffled out into a sort of queue. i took a photo of alex’s pedalboard on the way out, and said “i don’t know why i’m doing this, it’s not as if i know what any of these do”, and their guitar tech (who i have been mentally referring to as Clayton for various reasons, but i believe is actually called joe) overheard and went “neither do i, hah” and then i started chatting to him about what a shame it was that alex didn’t bring his little modular setup on tour this time round, and he told me all about pete’s ableton routing, and it was VERY FUN thank you claytonjoe for engaging with me. pls don’t find out i’m a massive gear poser.

SPEAKING OF— actual signing time. my rubiks cube was in my bag and i was NOT going to leave without it being signed. i managed to somehow barely interact with jon (cursing myself forever that i did not get to ask about the pepsi incident) but they all seemed fairly unsurprised by being asked to sign a rubiks cube, and all wrote their signatures very neatly in one of the little squares, minus jeremy for some reason. and Then.

i was wearing this shirt with the names of two modular synth brands smushed together, based on ONE decade-old post from this one forum that i had decided was the funniest thing in the world, yet another incomprehensible bit i am doing with myself, really, only turns out it’s the modular synth brands alex robertshaw uses the most. it came up on that podcast he did the other day. it was a real “oh for fucks sake” moment. so i showed him my shirt, and told him as much, and i expected there to be QUESTIONS about why the hell this shirt would exist, but he just thought it was great. (jeremy also approved, and said he saw me wearing it in liverpool. i did not interact with jeremy in liverpool. i was not even standing NEAR jeremy in liverpool.) alex then asked if he could take a photo to send to the guy he did the podcast with. YEAH OKAY SURE WHY WOULDN’T THIS NONSENSE BE HAPPENING TO ME. but he didn’t have his phone with him, i guess?? so he had to borrow mike’s phone???? so there’s a picture of me on mike spearman’s phone, i guess. hope the synth podcast guy did see it in the end.

writing this all out really does make it sound about twenty times more bizarre than it felt at the time. i love this ridiculous weirdo band. /\

#everything everything #c vs the band #what the HELL #not included in this writeup: much extraneous gushing about how hot they all are #but do know that i’m thinking it #also. if you have managed to connect Tumblr User Hellkitepriest with any real people on any other social media sites or irl: no you havent #you don’t know me i don’t exist #standard rules

[wayward-dreamer]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write an angst fic taking place in the late 60s where Ben (Soldier Boy) is in an arranged marriage with the reader, but the reader does love him? Also, they’re much younger than he is (obviously an adult though, just a young one). This is oddly specific ig but I have an OC based around this concept 😭❤️

Two Ways To Love Him

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

Word count: 1,709

Summary: There were certain things about the supe she didn't want to accept, they were surprisingly two things love about him.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, implied smut (not with reader), implied drug use

A/N: I wrote this a while ago and just forgot to post it, but hopefully it's what you were hoping for! Also I was intending for this to be a drabble, but here we are at 1700 words lol This is unbetad, so I'm sorry for any errors I've missed.

It was easy to love his exterior personality, the parts of himself that he showed to the public. The parts of himself that Vought manufactured. The charm, the wit, the subtle cockiness, the smirk, the heroic sacrifices he had made over the decades in each war that occurred, the roughness of his voice laced with the rasp of cigarettes and bourbon. It was easy to love him from afar for many years, knowing that was all it would be. Just a silly admiration for an American hero, the world’s greatest supe. What she felt was real but fleeting, something she knew she’d get over whenever she decided that it was immature and she needed a reality check.

A reality check that came in the form of Vought calling her into the executive offices. It was  in the form of them needing her for something that she wasn’t ready for, especially with someone she didn’t know. She knew his public life, yes, but she had no idea what he was like in the privacy of his penthouse apartment at the top floor of the building.

“There’s no way I’m fucking doing this,” he argued, taking out his third cigarette in the span of fifteen minutes they had both been in the CEO’s office.

“You don’t have a choice, Ben,” Alan from talent relations countered. “In light of all the papers reporting your… alleged ties with the mafia, we need to present you as the wholesome, all American hero that you’ve always been.”

“By marrying me off to some bird I don’t even fucking know?!” Soldier Boy pointed towards her, his eyes never even meeting hers. “Not to mention she looks like one of the Brady fucking Bunch kids.”

“I’m 25,” she finally added, her voice meek as her legs shook under her boring brown skirt.

“Yeah, that’s a lot better,” he scoffed, placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He took a long drag as he dropped down in the leather chair across from the table, leaning his head back as he closed his eyes. “Fuckkkk.”

“There’s an image we need to protect here,” the CEO, Paul Roberts explained, leaning forward on the table as he clasped his hands together. “Vought can’t have its number one supe acting out and causing more trouble than he was initially trying to prevent. This arrangement is going to show a level of maturity to your supporters. Think of the popularity points and keep your attitude in check.”

Soldier Boy glared at him, shifting forward and putting the cigarette out in the ashtray. “Fuck you, Paul.”

He stood up from the chair, adjusted the tactical vest over his suit and turned towards the exit, sending those same daggers towards her before he slammed the door shut. She gulped as she turned to the two men in the room, nervously twisting her fingers.

“You’ll be compensated fairly,” Alan informed her, handing her a pen as he pushed the contract across to her.

“What about-” she started as she gestured to the door that Soldier Boy just walked through.

“You let us handle him,” Mr. Roberts added, his tone having a sickening finality to it.

They didn’t leave much room for choice, and she knew better than to argue with a fast-growing corporation like them. With a flurry of the pen, she signed her life away to Vought and to being Soldier Boy’s wife.

There was barely a ceremony, and no exchanging of rings. They gave their forced “I do’s” to a minister hired by the company in one of the offices, standing side by side and never once looking at each other. Vought had people remove her belongings from her parent’s house, her childhood home and move it into the spare room in Soldier Boy’s apartment. A knock on the door alerted her to the envelope left outside, her wedding ring inside that she slipped onto her finger herself. This was never something she thought would happen so abruptly. She always imagined herself falling for a wonderful man, both of them declaring their love for each other before they promised to spend the rest of their lives together.

Being married to Soldier Boy wasn’t what she had pictured for herself.

Being the wife of Vought’s most valuable asset was nothing like having a crush on him. She spent most of her days alone, either crying her eyes out, muffled by the down pillows on the large bed she slept in by herself, or staring out the large, floor to ceiling windows and wondering what the tiny people down on the ground were doing with their lives. She was only ever in close proximity to him when the media outlets wanted to speak with them, now that Vought had officially announced the nuptials of the great Soldier Boy and his childhood sweetheart, as the story cooked up by PR suggested. They fake smiled and “aww, honey”’d their way through every interview, their looks barely lingering on each other for more than a few seconds. They went their separate ways after each one, resuming the routine they had found themselves in.

She kept quiet as she watched him go off to meeting after meeting, commercial after commercial, and party after party, every single day and night. She never said a word as he came in, late at night and blinding drunk, a loud guffaw waking her up as she heard the hysterical giggles of the women he was sneaking into his room. She kept her mouth shut as she watched him consume every pill, snort every kind of powder and drink everything in sight. She ignored him as he did what he was used to doing, showing no interest in that life. She never wanted it and she was even more certain of it now that she had witnessed him in all his glory.

She had seen behind the curtain, she knew what he was really like now, and it wasn’t easy to love him without the guise of his public persona.

In fact, it was incredibly difficult to love him for who he actually was.

Until one day… it wasn’t.

It started with a simple gesture. She had come back from spending her day shopping with the money that Vought was giving her in checks, completely caught off guard by him being there, pouring himself a drink. Their eyes met for what could possibly be the first time in weeks, but exchanged no words. He slid the tumbler across to her, pouring another for himself before he walked away and closed the door to his room. That was the most time they had spent in each other’s vicinity within the apartment, but she appreciated that he actually acknowledged her presence, even if it was for just a mere moment.

She quickly noticed the other little things he started doing, things that he probably hoped she wouldn’t realize was him, but she did.

He would leave for the day just before she would wake, and always had a bagel and coffee waiting for her when she reached the dining table. He usually arrived back at the apartment in the wee hours of the morning, and on more than one occasion she had fallen asleep on the couch. She remained still, making no sudden movements as he covered her with the blanket that was draped over the back of the sofa. After the first time, she had to make sure it wasn’t just a part of her dreams, and sure enough it happened again another two times. She tried not to read too much into the night he picked her up and carried her into her bedroom, or the next night when it happened once more but his large hand delicately tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she continued to feign sleep, before he promptly left the room.

All of it was a side to him that she never expected once she saw who he really was, and she knew not to take it for granted despite the twinge of longing in her heart that it would be an everyday occurrence that could be acknowledged between them. A stepping stone into a better relationship with him.

But he didn’t want that, and he proved it as he continued his usual activities as if those nice things were just fleeting, so few and far between that it began to feel like a part of the PR stunt. Even if it was behind closed doors.

And yet, she hung onto those moments. They may have been rare, but they were a part of him that she had begun to yearn for, another part of him that she had begun to love. A part of him that she wished he would just fully embrace rather than hide it away as if he was ashamed and disappointed in myself for doing it.

She knew she couldn’t change him. He was too embedded in Vought’s infrastructure to ever be a different person, and his only outlet to escape their grasp was to do all of the things she was forced to pretend didn’t happen.

So she resigned herself to the fact that there were only two ways to love him. Only two aspects of him to love.

One was his public life, the persona he put on for the people that adored him. That sexy smirk, the ability to melt hearts with just a wink and his heroic efforts in the wars - WWII, Korea and Vietnam - that all followed his initiation into Vought. The public didn’t need to know that was all for the photo opportunities.

The other was all of the little things he did for her, things that he didn’t know she had noticed. They were little gestures, not nearly enough under normal circumstances for someone to fall in love with, but she needed those in order to survive this situation she had found herself in. The money promised to her would never be enough to make it through that.

Those were the only two ways to love him, she told herself. Reminded herself every day of the fact.

And everything else, everything she had chosen to ignore… well, those were all things she would learn to live with.

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#Soldier Boy x Female!Reader #Soldier Boy x Female!Reader One Shot #Soldier Boy Angst #Soldier Boy One Shot #Soldier Boy Fanfiction #Soldier Boy #The Boys Fanfiction #the boys tv

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

I feel like maybe someone needs to say it and I figure it's probably best coming from the guy with the Calico Jack pfp who has been very open about not being the biggest Stede fan (he reminds me of my shitty ex hope this helps), because then this comes off less like unhinged blorbo apologia. I just. I'm gonna walk through a minefield with this meta, but I want to talk about the whole Stede abandoning his kids thing. I understand that many people feel all types of things about this and it's valid I get it, but I think we need a bit of perspective.

So basically, recap from discomfort in a married state, which is where we get 90% of Stede's tragic backstory from. I know a lot of stuff with this show is anachronistic, but Stede's marriage really does not seem like one of those things. I say that because in the modern day in the US, which is the audience that OFMD is geared towards and the culture which all the other historical anachronisms seem to favor, it's an American show, arranged marriage is basically unheard of. But it was relatively common among the aristocracy of 1717. Based on this I think we can assume a few things about Stede's marriage. 1) Divorce is not an option, and 2) You have to have kids to carry on the family name and have somebody to pass your money down to. Sure nobody's forcing you at gunpoint to have kids, but culturally back then the expectation is that you get married in order to have legitimate children. If they didn't have kids Mary would have been socially ostracized and seen as a failure of a woman, there would have been social consequences for Stede as well though less harsh. It's informative that Stede and Mary have the classic heir and a spare, i.e. one child to inherit the fortune and one child just in case something happens to that first kid, it's also informative that the younger child is male, since at the time the fortune would either go to the son or the daughter's husband if there was no son to pass it onto.

This is the context we have to understand Stede in. He's a gay man who was forced to be a husband to a woman and who was forced to be a father. The being Mary's husband and being a father are inextricably linked for Stede, because remember the whole point of getting married was to have an heir and you cannot get divorced it's illegal and pretty much unheard of. Stede is so miserable in this state that he literally fucks off to sea to become an outlaw where he'll probably die tomorrow. He's so fucking desperate that instead of going on a rich people cruise like a normal rich guy trying to get away from the family he's doing fucking crimes that could get him hanged to death if he gets caught and could get him killed while he carries them out. This is Stede's last ditch effort to leave his old life behind before he kills himself. This is a borderline suicide attempt from our boy. He's too chicken to do it for real but he can't live like this anymore and he needs to do something.

So like, yeah. Stede's abandonment was probably traumatic for his kids. He was put in a situation where he didn't have many other options, and most of those options are in fact more traumatic for Alma and Louis than Stede just disappearing one day. Because like, staying miserable like that for another... decade minimum I'm gonna guess based on how old Louis looks and acts, is an incredible fucking ask, and having two miserable parents will probably fuck those kids up in a whole host of ways. I know people who have parents who didn't love each other but stayed together for the kids and those people do have issues. Alma herself says that it's probably best he leave because Mary was happier when he was gone. He could just kill himself like normal, which is also pretty goddamn traumatic for his kids I shouldn't have to explain that one. Or he could fuck off in the middle of the night leaving them with Mary and the nanny that almost certainly exists, this isn't child neglect it's child abandonment, Stede can be sure Alma and Louis will be taken care of if he leaves. Even if Mary falls into the worst tropes about widowdom and becomes unable to care for them herself, they're very rich they have people who will care for them. That will fuck them up to, but not significantly more than him sticking around would and at a certain point you have to take care of yourself. The best options are not having the kids in the first place or getting a no fault divorce and being a weekends and holidays dad, but oops, he was forced into having the kids in the first place and he can't get divorced. There's no good options left, those kids are getting traumatized one way or another. The option that hurts himself the least is hitting the bricks.

So like, yeah, dunk on him for being an absent father. I love dunking on him for being an absent father it's very funny. I'll take any opportunity to dunk on Stede. But treating Stede's abandonment with the same lens you would examine modern child abandonment or acting like it's akin to child abuse (I have seen both takes on this wretched website, I'm far more sympathetic to the first than I am to the second) seems kinda unfair. Just like, idk remember the context of him never having asked to be a father and him not having any good options left. Walking out wasn't the right move because there was no right move. I think Stede probably should have had a conversation with Mary about how the only way for him to be happy was for him to leave and made sure that his leaving wasn't a surprise to his kids, but sometimes I think the way that people take it so damn serious is a little unfair

#ofmd #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #stede bonnet ofmd #cw child abandonment #cw suicide #our flag means death

[girlreviews]

Review #7: Rumours, Fleetwood Mac

I might have met a person who hasn’t listened to Rumours, but I’ve never met a person who has listened to it and was like “no thanks”. Never. If anyone hates this record get in touch, I just want to talk.

So interesting that such an incredible piece of work that holds up decade after decade, represents a band that during its creation was a damn hot mess. It’s not just a breakup record. It’s a double breakup record. Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham had called it quits, and John and Christine McVie were circling the drain, divorcing while they toured Rumours. Hoo-boy can you feel it all. Never has such an overall cheery and upbeat record been so deeply filled with resentment, anger, heartbreak, defeat and getting the fuck over it. You’re just trying to keep up with which song is a fuck you from which band member to the other. Except you can’t, because you end up just getting lost in the music.

Never mind that before all of that, the drummer had an affair with Mick Fleetwood’s wife and all hell broke loose. Line up changes and whatnot. They started as a blues band, y’know? Yet, here we are, with this gorgeous thirty nine minutes of music and a group of people that arguably should seek therapy, rehab, and probably never see each other again. If David Attenborough is a Fleetwood Mac fan — and let’s assume that he is — he would say, “life… finds a way”.

As is often the case I had actually heard covers of a few of the songs as a young’un before ever hearing the originals or ever hearing the full album. Eva Cassidy covered Songbird. It was my childhood friend’s favorite song, and makes me think of her every time I hear it. The Corrs, Irish sibling band, covered Dreams in the late 90s. Their whole thing was a little weird. Jack Dee used to have a bit about the “odd” Corr brother that wasn’t invited to be in the band, Pat Corr. It was pretty funny. That old boss of mine used to say disparaging things about Andrea Corr as if she’d ever have given him the time of day. It makes me want to punch things, even now. I realize in hindsight he used to tear down any Irish woman musician that saw more success than him (see also: Sinéad O’Connor, Delores O’Riordan). They all did see more success, and they all deserved it, with two of them leaving legendary musical legacies even after death. He never made it past a breakfast show that had two knockoff muppets as presenters. I’m not joking.

Let’s talk about Second Hand News, what a charming and odd way to open an album. Buckingham wrote this and he’s generally acknowledged to be a real piece of work (allegedly, John McVie threw a glass of vodka in his face during the making of the record), even now. He insists he “ain’t gonna miss” Nicks when she goes, and that he’s been “tossed around enough”, but it’s pretty clear he ain’t over it. Boohoo, Lindsey. Such light acoustic riffs, luscious harmonies and hefty rhythm throughout with some outro guitar solo just to really make its point.

Dreams is a Stevie Nicks led classic. Let’s talk about Stevie. She’s been my hair inspiration for most of my life. She put out solo shit that was every bit as good as this record. Her voice sounds like that of a woman who has lived a thousand lives. An old, witchy, wise, woman, living in a young, exuberant, beautiful woman’s body. Like smoke on water. She warns Buckingham of his inevitable loneliness… “when the rain washes you clean, you’ll know”. Oof. For as tough and witchy as she is, there’s a real tenderness to her. I’ve always admired her ability to show the world all of her sides, the badass and the vulnerable. Pretty recently she showed us that vulnerable side when we lost Christine McVie. Stevie let her deep grief be known to the world. Whatever had gone on with that band, that was her best friend, and they’ll never sing together again.

This really is one of those where all of the tracks are amazing, but they’re all really different. Some are like standing in an open field of sunflowers, while some are like that part on a rollercoaster where you’re climbing slowly up the incline just waiting for the chaos. The Chain, I think, has to be my favorite for that reason. What I find so interesting is that they’re all credited as writers on this one, so it was an actual team effort, it would seem. First and foremost, the four (five?!) part harmonies in this are so incredible. It’s no softy squishy Simon and Garfunkel shit. These people are pissed, in different keys. It’s POWERFUL. But each instrument also has a voice of its own, the bass line, the guitar solo, the simple drum beat that evolves into a sprint. Whoever was on the tambourine even was going really fucking hard. It takes you on a damn journey. That rollercoaster was wild, let’s go again. And again. And again.

I used to have this record on vinyl and it sadly was one that got lost along the way between the UK and the US. I’ll say, it sounds mighty fine in that format. For a while in and after college, I lived in a shitty house in East London (it’s definitely fancy now but it was a rathole when I called it home). The kitchen ceiling literally caved in once. Anyway, it was me, my then boyfriend, my best girlfriend, and four other dudes. Sometimes we had just one rotating roommate. The point being it was some chaos, not unlike Fleetwood Mac in the making of Rumours. We were all a damn mess. But we were united any time I stuck this record on my turntable, or any time I was doing the dishes and one of the singles came on my absolutely adorable digital radio that looked like a teeny tiny Marshall Amp (add to list of things I wish I still had). I think of the good times in those kinda bad times when I hear Rumours, which is sort of the point of the album, as pointed out by Stevie in 2002:

“If you took out all the bad stuff in the band, the songs wouldn’t have happened. There simply wouldn’t have been a Rumours if everything had been fabulous.”

I’ll take her at her word, anyone with bangs that effortless can really do no wrong.

#album review #music #music review #rolling stone top 500 #fleetwood mac #rumours #stevie nicks

[sansxfuckyou]

top 5 etho ships ? bonus points for any explanation

my personal top five in no particular order, and like, ya gotta understand im still new here (hermitcraft/life series) so my opinions are poised to change, but the current standings are:

Bdubs/Etho/Cleo, i'll be honest, i haven't written or read any clethubs, but i saw some art of them that made my brain shortcircuit. they are femdom, himbo, and twink. i just think that Etho should have two people who are stronger than he is on either side of him at all times, bonus points if you let Cleo be the tallest. Bdubs being super clingy, Etho reluctantly tagging along, and Cleo making sure they don't fucking die because yeah they are god damn idiots sometimes, but they're her idiots. and she loves them. and probably gives them noogies and headlocks them.

Cleo/Etho, their marriage in limlife is so much fucking fun, especially when read under an aro4allo lens. Etho whose been happily married for over a decade watching his friends enter relationships and realizing that he loves differently, he doesn't even love remotely close to how they love, love isn't even the right word. hes scared so he leaves, hes not doing it right and his wife must be upset about it, that must be why everythings crumbling. and Cleo, not giving two shits, because that's her husband and by god they're gonna make it work if he can realize that being absent is whats breaking up their marriage, not showing affection and intimacy differently.

Gem/Etho, as a canadian i am legally obligated to ship this, as a lesbian i love it when men have chaotic gremlin girlfriends who put them in their place. see that one episode of hermicraft wherein Gem beats his ass on repeat and he keeps coming back for more. its like, like theres an unspoken solidarity, 'hey we're the same even though we're not' and they stick with each other. predator/prey dynamic if you go with deer Gem and fox Etho, you also get it with sea monster Gem and fox Etho, except he's the prey and she has the biological advantage instead. also, when paired with the transfemme Etho headcanon we get some yuri which im always down for.

Grian/Etho, this one came to via an Ao3 commenter and i have seen two pieces of fanart for it and like, seven fics. but i still think the dynamic of bird and fox would be fun to work with in writing depending on the bird Grian is hybridized with, especially if Grian is the smaller one. also in limlife??? hello?? Etho, swearing loyalty and promising to be someones sword is not heterosexual behaviour. what they had in limlife, even if brief, had me shaking i'll be real. also, for their hermitcraft dynamic, it'd be hot if i threw Scar into the mix, for flavour.

Pearl/Etho/Tango, consensual workplace relationships make me absolutely insane, it could tear apart their business or bring it further together. they have the kind of dynamic that makes my head absolutely fucking empty, one of those 'i just think theyre neat' kind of ships. the culture clash between each of their species and their own personal tastes, Tango's a blaze and they mate for life, Pearl's a siren and they don't do much for romance, Etho's a fox and they come and go- but they make it happen in spite of that. im working on getting them a canonized Ao3 tag right now, they have such a fun dynamic. also, they fucked in that post office when no one was looking.

tbh these are all really closely tied, and i also have a soft spot for tangtho and the team ties poly. they're all really fun ships, i just really enjoy polyships to be real with ya'll. and the life series and hermitcraft are full of so many possible polyships that its just making me foam at the fucking mouth. sorry boat boys enjoyers, the vision has not yet engulfed me, but hey im a multishipper it might be yet to happen.

#asks #the bestie anon #ethoslab #i just love putting this sopping wet pathetic excuse of a man in relationships. it makes me grin. #mcyt #heres hoping this sparks the poly postal vision in someone elses head

[lizardboy66]

im deeply bored so here are all of my gay 911 thoughts for your entertainment.

OKAY SO

Idk about 911 being queerbait guys...i dont think it ever was. I think we have entered a new era of fanservice. Usually with queerbait, the creators and people involved in the show are quite vicious to shippers and queer fans generally, and any easter egg or "moment" feels like crumbs to keep us hooked enough.

911 acknowledged the shipping very very early. Like second half of season 2, and there has never ONCE been a joke at the expense of the concept of being gay, or about buck or eddie being queer. It was simply a nod, like "hey, we get it, you want it, thats all good."

Its not 2010 anymore, gay people are accepted and visible in a way that has never been a reality in the past. In fact, gay people, especially gay men, have come to be understood as a fantastic marketing tool.

This is where i get jaded and cynical, but listen the outcome is the same so stick with me here. Gay pairings and relationships = money is not a groundbreaking concept. It's why they did queerbait. But with stuff like supernatural, it seemed like a far greater risk to make the repressed men kiss than to piss of the queer fanbase. But times have changed. But since the age of queerbait, there has been a rise in gay romance content being made, and being made FOR the fangirls, boys and theys. Think Red, White and Royal Blue, or Heartstopper, or Young Royals, or Our Flag Means Death, or Good Omens. Gay isn't a risk anymore, its a marketing category with a level of guaranteed success. And not just in the global north, Boys Love content has been booming in places like Japan, Thailand, Korea for decades, but never more than now. TV companies in these places figured out very quickly that producing fluffy, comforting gay love stories earns them billions, and have not hesitated to seize this opportunity. My point being, gay dudes sell as fuck.

911 got cancelled and had to move networks. The budget is too high and they need to pull viewership and quick. I think their answer is canonise that ship! I couldn't tell you if that was there original intent, but i do believe that it would be far less lucrative to fuck over their viewer base. I could be wrong, this could be a crazy long game to make the fans trust the show, then pull the rug from under them. But i truly think we are past that point with shows like this.

911 is pure fluff! No one ever dies, if someone is hurt they recover quickly and with no complications, conflict is tame and easily resolvable, and everyone is a sickeningly good person. And the show is also about family, found family, unconventional families. I think originally, the unconventionality of the eddie, buck and chris family dynamic was that it is two men who are not together or married raising a child as coparents and friends. Which is a great story, but even better fanfiction fodder.

I think they are going to do it like the fanfiction. It's the easiest way to bridge the epistemic gap between the current cannon and the reality of both buck and eddie being queer and having feelings for each other. they could try and explain it in their own way, but the fans have already done it, and have clearly agreed on some elements of how this love story plays out, so i think that will be the route they go down. Currently my evidence is that Buck is now canonically bisexual. For some reason a lot of the ships people have have one bisexual and one gay, so the trope is being realised. My next piece of evidence is the catholic thing for eddie. This has literally never come up, its a fan invention, and its in the show now. The eddie and marisol plot line is slightly bizzare, but i think the reason for that is that it is eddie making sense of why he struggles so much to commit to the women he dates. Or its just a bad storyline and isnt very coherent. I guess we will see. My next evidence is the whole set up of Tommy. He is so clearly a way to push eddie and buck together in my opinion. From his introduction, he acts as a wedge between the two that neither of them can make sense of. Very love triangle energy. And my last evidence is all of those goddamn interviews. It seems no one can shut up about these fire fighters getting it on with each other. I feel if they weren't doing it, there would be more effort to shut down the clowning gently, as they have done previously.

In conclusion, i too am a clown. My theory has rocky foundations, a rocky middle and an equally rocky conclusion. I am so tired and delulu right now. I'm with you girlies, this is stressful.

#911 #buddie #what am i doing #what is this #why am i here #i started watching the show a week ago i feel i have added nothing to the discussion #screaming into the void af

[tokillamockingbird427]

Concept that i hurt myself with

Elias, who either couldn't bring himself to let go or was too late for it and fell with Rorke. Now both of them are part of the Feds.

Logan and Hesh, declared orphans, get raised inside the army. Unbeknownst to them, it is to keep them safe from the federation, because the military knows that Elias would try anything to pull his kids on their side and the government tries everything to stop that from happening. Tho they also don't tell the boys that their dad is technically still alive after they find out.

This leads to the very awkward situation after the boys get recruited into the Ghosts (now always lead by Merrick, since that day) where they actually get to know who they fight against and they sit there, pissed, confused and possibly more conflicting emotions when they figure out that they haven been lied to for over a decade. Not knowing how they are supposed to fight their own father. Especially knowing Elias will try to persuade them to join him.

Meanwhile Elias and Gabriel try together to "kidnap" both Walker kids (is it kidnapping if the parent tries to get his kids back that were technically withheld from them?) While being the most terrifying duo anyone has ever seen

-🐑

(In case tumblr ate my first attempt at sending it, if not feel free to ignore this second)

Oooohhohoh, evil evil.

Elias "trying to persuade them" aka "Cue "Mother knows best" song from Tangled" Lol.

I think since Elias was for all intents and purposes very dead and they're grown adults by the time he shows back up that the boys wouldn't be terribly interested in joining him+Rorke but they'd for sure have feelings about it! For sure. Especially if it's decided Elias+Rorke gotta die. I cannot see them down with that.

Also; A chance arises to do Dad Merrick here. Instead of Elias sending them off on all these tests to see if they're fit to join the Ghosts it's Merrick. And inistially Merrick is just like "Alright. Favor to a friend; I know Elias wanted his kids to do great one day and joining the Ghosts is one avenue. I can help with that." but overtime he gets more attached to the point that he's like "I'd fucking die for these little guys." Also just imagine the brawl that would go down because Merrick ain't about to let a dead guy +traitor try and take the boys he views as his own. FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

Elias and Rorke both as Feds would be a MAJOR problem if they really do be like Logan+Hesh. We've all seen the train mission, we know Logan+Hesh are an army of two, imagine Elias+Rorke tearing shit up as a more seasoned duo with less of a revenge motive and more of a protective one. (Because they'd obviously think if the boys were with them they'd be safer. Even if they're a bit delusional about it.)

#call of duty #call of duty ghosts #gabriel rorke #elias walker #logan walker #hesh walker #thomas a merrick #beloved anon #🐑 anon

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

gert's random fusion aus: pushing daisies

sorry, i just realized i never explained what "pushing daisies" is, and while i'm not going to give the full run-down of every relevant detail--you will find this more compelling if you've seen it/are familiar with it--i'll give the basics real fast. ned is a piemaker who can bring back the dead with a single touch--and kill them again with another. the problem is, if they're alive again for more than a minute, someone else will die in their place. he found this out in the most traumatizing fucked up way possible btw. anyway, his best friend is PI emerson cod, with whom he investigates bizarre murders as, you know, they can interrogate the victim. albeit for one (1) minute only. and then ned brings back his childhood sweetheart/crush, inadvertently killing a corrupt graverobbing funeral director, and they fall in love again--with the caveat, of course, that they can never touch, because if he ever touches her again, she'll die. cue cute shit like kissing though plastic wrap and having clear walls on their bed (?) and that kind of thing. since she's still legally dead, she tries to help her aunts from afar, who have been shut-ins for a while, and there's some other stuff going on too with a waitress in love with ned (olive my beloved), emerson cod's ex-wives (and a child!), and a mystery from ned's past. i think that's all the basics? anyway, on with the show.

Trent Crimm is a journalist, so perhaps it isn’t surprising when he’s murdered. He dies alone, and afraid, and with no one to care. And then he wakes up with Ted Lasso peering down at him, worried, with soft, kind eyes Trent hasn’t seen since he was a teenager. Who knew that his schoolyard sweetheart could bring back the dead? Certainly not Trent. (Although his college friend, Beard, now a private investigator, apparently very much did.)

Now Trent, still legally dead, has to deal with, among other things: the trauma of his murder and identity of his murderer, his ex-wife and daughter (who still think he is dead, and he secretly suspects might be better off without him, even though he misses his daughter dearly), his growing feelings for a man he can never touch again, his father, and also, you know, all the bizarre murders he, Ted, and Beard are roped into investigating.

Also see: Ted struggling with depression, divorce, fatherhood, baking, and his own past (including a dreadful secret he is keeping from Trent), Beard struggling with a femme fatale to his noir detective, and whatever the hell Roy, Keeley, and Jamie are doing in the background with their synchronized swimming act.

Some notes:

Rupert is almost certainly the one who killed Trent, or had him killed. For, you know, knowing things he shouldn't; looking into things he shouldn't, etc. Half wondering if Rebecca should be involved--not as in she helped kill him, but as in she found out about it or was unwillingly involved--because that could make things even more deliciously complicated.

Ted and baking and building community--whether biscuits or pie, charming everyone he meets

(Trent was poisoned, by the way. So that baking thing. Oh boy.)

I do have a lot of feelings about Trent dying alone and being terrified of that happening again even though he refuses to admit it and keeps a cool and steady facade. Cue Ted getting him to be emotionally vulnerable, and also bonding with Beard at a point where they're trapped together in a situation that could kill them.

Ted and Trent's whole dance around each other only gets more exceedingly complicated, because Ted inadvertently broke his heart a decade or two ago, and now he's brought Trent back from the actual dead. Mixed signals, maybe. Regardless, they are very sweet and wholesome 90 percent of the time.

Thinking about that scene where Ned and Chuck dance on the rooftop in beekeepers outfits--Trent trying to find ways to fill the time now that he can't exactly be a journalist, and while he does end up throwing himself into helping Ted and Beard with their cases--he has his own relevant skills, after all--as well as trying to take care of his child and ex-wife from afar, he can't do that all the time: and Ted has bees on the roof, for the honey.

And also just again, them slow dancing like that. ough.

The whole thing with Trent's ex and daughter I'm not married to (haha) considering I don't think he'd actually leave his daughter thinking he's dead (and I think Ted would not be okay with that, too, for obvious reasons) however I'm not sure how else to handle it and I'm also thinking about him genuinely wondering if they're better off without him and then at some point, of course, them finding out, and. painful emotional growth ensues

Ted is also struggling with his own divorce and kid, because he has secrets and he's kind of terrified that Henry will have his ability, or something similar, even though there have been no signs of it so far. He hadn't planned on having kids, and while he could never regret Henry he's scared of what kind of father he'll be and what kind of damage his secret could do.

I'm not gonna lie, the last line of the summary about roy, keeley, and jamie was a bit of a Silly on my part, so I'm not sure if it would have become something, but I do have ideas running in circles in my brain. Something something, working together, triangles are the strongest shape, something something, practicing and being the best you can be?

Episodic format with case-of-the-weeks involving the other characters, such as the players, Rebecca, etc?

I admit, while part of what makes Pushing Daisies compelling is the tragic impossibility of Ned and Chuck's situation and also the complete non-explanation for how, exactly, Ned got to be Like This, I'm a sucker for a fix-it, and some ideas included: Ted giving up his gift (and dealing with the pain it's caused him and not being "useful", that he's worth more than this gift) OR just. really rotating a scene in my head where for [waves hands] plot reasons Ted knows he has to touch Trent again, let him die again (to bring him back? to stop something terrible? because they've learned something about the origins of Ted's ability?) and just. Trent's near tears but in that smiling this has to happen way, and Ted--Ted gets to kiss him, for real, with no plastic wrap between them, just once, and then Trent crumples in his arms and Ted is just. devastated. Now the question is, does he wake up, or is there another way to bring him back?

(This also works so painfully with "Trent being afraid of dying alone again" because... he doesn't. He dies in Ted's arms, surrounded by friends who will miss him.)

Also thought about this ability being connected to Ted's... Issues(TM), namely his forced positivity and repressed depression and shit but that's kind of soup brain right now

ALSO SEE! Beard and Jane have some fucked up shit going on in the background that eventually gets resolved. Beard occasionally slips into noir detective mode, just like Ted and Trent occasionally slip into romcom mode, despite the fact they're all living in vividly colorful murder mystery bizarro world.

I considered Nate as Olive, albeit in a rather different way, but it doesn't quite fit. Also see Rebecca as someone who hires them under false pretenses but then, ah. doesn't?

Ted and his immortal dog he can't actually pet, please

ALTERNATE TAKES:

Trent is a journalist who can bring back the dead for exactly one minute. It’s extremely useful in his line of work, until he comes across the unattended body of the man he fell in love with over a decade ago, and unfortunately, cannot resist temptation. Possibly featuring Roy Kent as a detective he reluctantly assists, because I find that to be a particularly funny duo.

Ted brings back his best friend from the dead. Trent Crimm, investigative journalist, finds out about his ability and decides to do nothing about it. I find this one compelling despite it not being very fleshed out because I just think Trent finding out a very important secret and deciding not to reveal it, and not even use it, even though it could be very useful, and then he ends up befriending Ted anyway and Ted offers to help... meanwhile Ted and Beard are having their own issues w--wait actually. Wait. I just considered. This... this doesn't really fit with the OG Pushing Daisies but it could be compelling regardless. Ted brings back Michelle, and while she's grateful (because, you know, Henry) it fucks up their relationship even further, especially because they can't touch anymore, and while she's not exactly asking him to undo it she didn't ask to be brought back, either. ANYWAY. And Trent and Ted getting into shenanigans. And probably Beard, too, anyway.

Alternatively, something about Roy as Ned and Keeley as Chuck and possibly Jamie as either Emerson Cod or Olive is.... hmmm.... interesting

idk i'll probably have more thoughts on this later but!!! here you go. this au is too big and complicated in my brain to likely ever get a proper full-sized fic, unless i really get hit with an inspiration whammy, but i might write a few snippets. we'll see

#tvtcau #pushing daisies au #trent crimm #tedependent #ted lasso #coach beard #my writing

[weebsinstash]

Honestly valentino is such a dramatic bitch that if you did ever leave, saying fuck it you’ll figure it out as you go, he’d lose his shit. Torn between worried and pissed and it would be so delicious for those who love runaway readers

Protags/FLs/Readers what have you that run away are my bread and butter and i need to do more running away fics. Funny enough I have a few ideas in my drafts but homie there's so much to dig through at this point 💀

Imagine setting a really polite two weeks notice on his desk (that you don't really owe him) about how you're moving and getting another job, and you're extremely nervous because he doesn't say anything after you leave it in his office, and he waits until your literal very last shift when you already have some sort of other arrangement set up or trying to when he finally says "so what the fuck is this about you trying to quit?"

I imagine so many different ways he's shitty to you. Ripping up your letter right in front of you, catching it alight with a lit cigarette before dropping it into a trashcan, merely crumpling it up and throwing it on the floor to show you your feelings and your wants are absolutely nothing to him, he really finds it so funny you were just going to try and leave? As far as he's concerned you have absolutely no reason to leave and it would have only negative consequences if you did. And considering he was already a grown ass man and has been dead for a few decades, I can imagine him acting like you're just some dumb little girl, just some cute little bimbo with all her big stupid ideas that doesn't know how to do shit compared to him.

Not to mention the grief you'd catch if you ran away and had to be rescued, say a rival of Val's has had his boys watching all his lil errand runners and knows you fetch his shit sometimes and they scoop you up to ransom you back, not knowing you've ran away and to your knowledge your former Overlord boss has forgotten about you. Meanwhile Valentino goes to do a drug deal or whatever mafia dealings he does and, oh what a surprise, there you are, tied up and gagged with your big watery eyes looking up at him in fear while also silently begging him for help while he's developing a rager and realizing you look pretty cute when you're bound and helpless. I've even thought of like, he saves you from being kidnapped or like has you resuscitated from overdosing or trying to kill yourself and he slaps you with the bill just so you owe him a debt he can slap interest on and keep you indebted to him for literally forever. And if you don't show up when he summons you, it's just a couple of texts to his Goon Group Chat and an order of "bring this bratty lil shit back asap" before you're being dragged back by his henches

Outwardly he'd try and act tough but we all know Val doesn't take his little "breakups" well. At first he says you're just a loser and he doesn't need you, doing his typical self-soothing denial routine of going to the salon, buying himself new things, posting to social media about how everyone is useless and he doesn't need them, like what he does when he breaks up wirh Vox before getting back together.

Homeboys up on here like "mothpimp posted at 2am: bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks"

hellraiser42069, sending a photo of a familiar certain someone from a distance: I was just at the corner of 6th and mulberry, ain't this your bitch big v

mothpimp, already dispatching some of his lackeys to retrieve you within .00001 seconds: pfff that's stupid im a pimp not a simp 🙄 I don't chase no one 😤"

You finally see him again and he's clearly been pampering himself which is a dead giveaway for how you've gotten under his skin and he's all "look who came crawling back" when he knows full damn well he had to kidnap you to even have a conversation and fully refuses to acknowledge he's being legitimately creepy because you aren't even making him money like Angel or his other workers,you're just like. An unrequited crush almost. A little pet/companion/future fleshlight.

It's common with pimps and sex trafficking to force the workers to get tattoos or certain identifying marks of ownership to designated who they belong to but I imagine depending on the kind of story you've craving that Val's version of this, for the Reader, is basically having you constantly wearing things he's given you if not outright deciding what you wear and look like 24/7. That big hunky hellhound at the bar thinks you look cute? His pickup line dies in his throat when you spin around and you're wearing a choker with a big red bejeweled heart and he instantly knows that if he so much as says hi to you that there's a particularly aggravated moth sitting right across the room ready to shoot him dead out of sheer possessiveness

#yandere stuff #sinprompts

[loki-lover84]

Season 3 Episode 5 Part I

A/N: There is drug use briefly mentioned however it is The Boys so I hope that’s not too surprising this chapter does contain SMUT. I hope ya’ll enjoy this chapter.

I managed to lead us to the run down petrol station that Butcher’s crew had been using. The van was no longer parked outside and there was no one in there, I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or not. On the one hand, there goes my return flight home on the other, they probably wouldn’t have trusted let alone wanted Ben to come too.

“We can stay here for tonight. I know it’s not great but, at least we’ll have a roof over our heads.” I say leading him inside.

I turn to look back at him, he’s silent. He’s just staring at me, his grip on my hand tightening once again.

“Forty two years?” He murmurs. “Forty two fucking years, you were alone. I’m so sorry.”

“You were alone too, it’s not like you chose to be away.” I say sitting down on one of the battered sofas Frenchie and Kimiko had claimed earlier.

He takes a seat next to me before pulling me onto his lap and holding me tight. He places a kiss to my forehead, it feels weird due to his out of control beard, but I relish in the feeling all the same. He leans forward placing his head in the crook of my neck, his beard tickling my neck causing me to squirm a little.  I delicately stroke his messy mop of hair. I can’t tell if I’m doing it to soothe him or myself more, either way it’s working for us both. Ben lets out a hum of satisfaction before positioning us to sleep in each other’s embrace for the first time in far too long.

I wake up around dawn seeing Ben’s forest green eyes shining back at my, I can only assume knackered, face. He has a small smile playing on his lips as he brushes my messy hair out of my face.

“Morning sweetheart.” He coos as I yawn ruining the cute moment making him chuckle.

“Did you sleep at all?”I ask stroking his hair once again.

“I’ve spent decades of my life asleep, I don’t think I need to for awhile.”

I sit up stretching my limbs as best I can with Ben still hugging me.

“We should go see ‘The Legend’ when we get back to the US, I think he’s still got one of your suits.” I say standing up and Ben follows in suit eventually letting go of my waist.

“It was Payback.” He says out of the blue

“What was?”

“They were the ones that handed me over to the Russians.” I feel the rage boil through my veins, Vought had hidden this too.

All the years I’ve spent working for them if I’d have just dug a little deeper I could’ve found this out sooner, I only got as far too the point when I knew he wasn’t dead but fuck! Of course that goes hand in hand with it all this time. A growl escapes my throat startling myself and Ben for a moment.

“I’ll kill them! I kill every last one of those fuckers!” I seethe physically shaking as all the water pipes in the building burst. “Shit.”

“We’ll kill them together.” Ben says Somehow giving me a sense of comfort before leading us out of the slowly flooding station.

When we get outside I look around thinking back to which way Butcher had driven us from the airport and begin following the route through the rough rundown and supe graffiti covered buildings. We follow some road signs along the way, it takes us a good couple of hours walking but we eventually arrive at the airport. From here Ben takes over leading us towards the baggage section before sneaking us both onto the plane.

We arrive back to the US and we begin walking through the crowded streets to get to ‘The Legend’s’ apartment building.

“What the fuck?”I hear Ben grumble watching a bus advertising ‘The Dawn of The Seven’ drive by.

I watch him take in the scenery his brow furrowed in confusion at everyone and everything he sees. He watches as a gay couple walk past us openly using PDA and his face morphs into an ‘alright then’ sort of expression. He doesn’t once show disgust at anything he sees, just curiosity and wonder.

“This is the modern age. I know a lot has changed and nothing is really as it was but it’s not too hard to adjust to. All you need to be nowadays is open minded.” He gives me a look, the look that says ‘I’ll think about it, maybe’.

Of course I know it’s a lot for him to take in all at once. Do I think he’ll adjust? In some areas maybe, others not so much. There’s a faint Russian song playing, barely audible from the regular street noise, but Ben leads us straight towards it. It’s as if he’s in a trance and needs to find the source of it. We round a corner and see a small black radio playing the song.

“Ben…are you okay?” His hand nearly crushing my own as his breathing becomes deeper.

He doubles over grunting and the ground beneath us begins to vibrate once again.

“Ben, Ben look at me, c’mon my Soldier look at me.” I plead trying to gain his focus caressing his face with my other hand.

He lets go of my hand pushing me a good distance behind him as the red glow begins to burn though his chest once more.

“You okay, buddy?” A passerby asks.

But before I can warn him the energy bursts out of Ben as he roars in pain scorching the man to death and obliterating the building and surrounding pavement with it. I hear screams and cries of passerby’s as panicked uproar floods the area.

“Ben we’ve got to go. Come on!” I say urgently grabbing him and flying up not slowing or stopping until we get to ‘The Legend’s’ building. “Fuck, are you okay?” I say pandering Ben as we enter the apartment building.

“I-I’m fine just…Are you okay?” He asks as we enter the lift.

“Yeah… I’m good.” I say resting my hand on the side of his face as he leans into the touch. “What did those bastards do to you?” I say under my breath as the lift dings.

I pound on the door continuously hearing groans and yealls of complaints from the other side.

“What the fuck do you think-” The Legend begins until he sees us. “Fuck.”

He moves to the side quickly ushering us into his lavish apartment. We make ourselves comfortable on one of his sofas as he sits opposite us.

“Ain’t the pair of you meant to be dead?” He says dicing up and bumps in the coke and making six neat lines.

“I’ve been at Vought, as Queen Maeve’s PA.” I say rolling a piece of paper snorting a line. “The buried me so deep no one recognises me or is even aware Amphitrite existed.”

I don’t usually do this but after the day I’ve had on top of the forty two years I think I’ve earned one line. I hand it over to Ben fully knowing he wouldn’t turn down drugs, that was the only downside but, if I needed a bit, he definitely needed a few lines.

“What about you then Soldier Boy? You look like shit.” He states as Ben snorts his second line.

“Payback wrapped me up like a fucking present and gave me to the Russian’s.”

“Shit.” Legend says taking the tray. “What do you guys want from me?”

“I know you have Ben’s suit and shield.” I say unimpressed with his feigned ignorance.

“Yeah. It’s in the back help yourself.” He exhales before snorting a line.

Ben goes to the glass display case holding his suit and shield. Heading into the bathroom to shower so he doesn’t taint his suit. I stand up looking at all the movie posters and memorabilia around his apartment.

“You know, aside from me you’re probably the only person that still has any Amphitrite things.” I say eyeing up the old merchandise, publicity posters and heroic news headlines.

“Well at least this explains why I couldn’t get my hands on your suit.” He laughs standing next to me. “I loved working with you. You actually went out and did acts of heroism, I mean all you supes did but, you did it before you got paid to do it, you didn’t only interfere when Vought told you too.”

“Yeah, I ruined that though. You had to cover up the massacre spree I went on.” I say scowling at some of the headlines.

“Not in my eyes. Yes some of those people were innocent but, the majority knew what they’d done to you. They drove you to that point, not the other way around.” Legend comforts patting my back. “It’s amazing…you haven’t aged a day but you’re eyes tell the story of your life.”

“I’d take a step back if I were you, mate.” Ben says.

We turn and see Soldier Boy fully suited his signature beard back his hair fluffy and combed into place. I feel my knees tremble at the sight of him as he once was again. I can’t help but beam at him.

“I know you’ve always been like family, but she’s mine.” He adds striding towards us picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder.

I can’t help but laugh over his shoulder before smacking his America’s ass, making Ben return the favour.

“Alright you horny kids out. You’re not doing that here you’ll destroy my apartment… again. Go to your own place.” Legend says laughing with an undertone of seriousness.

“We can go and christen my apartment if you’d like?” I say staring at Ben’s ass.

It’s reassuring that he’s feeling like his old self so quickly. There’s a banging on the door and we instantly become silent.

“Out the window.” The Legend whispers, “Just leave it.” He yells at the door.

“What?” Shit that’s MM.

“C’mon.” I say as Ben put me back on my feet as I pull him to the window. “Grab on.” I encourage as we fly away from the building heading straight for my apartment.

“It’ll never cease to amaze me that you got flight in your V too.” Ben laughs as we enter my apartment via the open window. “I mean what do water and flight have in common?”

“Don’t ask me, it was the early testing days when we got injected.” I laugh watching as he takes in my humble home.

“It’s not very personal.”

“I had a plumber over the other day, had to hide everything.” I say unpacking the box with photos of Ben and I, as well as, the only photo I have of baby John.

Ben holds it looking at the baby boy cocooned in a soft blue blanket.

“We made a cute little rugrat.” He comments wrapping an arm around my waist.

“We did indeed. He’ll be at least forty one by now.” I sigh swiping away a tear.

“We can make more, have a whole family. Then he can be a big brother when we bring him home.” Ben says sliding his hand down from my waist pinching my bum. “How about we start right now?” He whispers, his teeth scraping against my ear as he kisses his way down my neck, putting the picture to one side.

“Fuck me.” I moan as he tears my trousers off and rips my shirt open groping me through my underwear as he rubs his hardening length against my rear.

“I love the underwear they have now.” Ben comments playing with the lace of my bra.

He quickly sheds the fabric carelessly tossing it to the floor as he continues to rut against me the rough fabric of his suit scratching against my skin in the best way as his breath becomes heavier. His lips biting and sucking my neck marking me up as much as he can before running his tongue along my neck, his beard leaving its own trail of pleasure.

“Shit…Captain, right there.” I moan as a rough padded finger harshly caresses my clit.

Ben’s chest rumbles in satisfaction as I writhe desperately against him. My arms reach up as I desperately try to find an anchor my fingers worm their way into his soft brown hair I clenching my hand into a fist tugging at it as my support. A soft moan escapes his lips as he inserts two fingers stretching my walls more than they had been in decades as he furiously begins pumping his fingers as an uncontrollable scream leaps out of me as I reach my first peak. I limply fall forwards toward my bed, Ben carefully places me on it as he removes his fingers licking my juices off his fingers.

“You-you’re…you’re wearing too many clothes.” I pant breathlessly looking up at him as my body continues to tremble.

“I needed to ease you back into it.” He chuckles, removing his suit revealing his well built and toned body.

“Can we not be as rough as we used to? I could barely handle that one.” I ask with a dazed smile, meeting his fully dilated pupils.

“Fine, this can be our practice session.” He replies smirking, positioning himself above me, harshly pulling my knickers the fabric breaking against my flesh do to the force. “This needs to go.”

Ben spreads my legs settling himself between them, with one harsh thrust of his hips he’s fully seated inside of me. My body involuntarily jerks at the motion as I reach behind my head fisting my pillows as he begins at a slow hard pace his face buried in my neck biting my shoulder as emphasises each stroke.

“Fuck…you feel so good.” He groans gradually speeding up his thrusts getting harder and harder.

My bed begins creaking and moving violently with our punishing rhythm. It’s hard to keep up with Ben’s determined movements. I hear my headboard cracking the wall behind it and a few bedsprings breaking.

“You’re mine…You were made for me… fuck you’re perfect.” Ben chants repeatedly as I squeeze my eyes shut and clench around him. “Open your eyes, Sweetheart.”

I do as he says before he starts rubbing my swollen clit with his thrusts as the feeling of an approaching orgasm makes my eyes involuntarily close again, only to meet an extra hard thrust of disapproval.

“You look at me when you cum!” He growls, thrusting to an inhuman pace.

“Shit…Ben…I can’t…I-” I gasp.

“You do as I say. You’re mine.” He insists lowering his head capturing my lips in a hard animalistic like kiss occasionally biting my lips.

I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. I chant repeatedly in my head due to my mouth being otherwise occupied. I grasp my hands around his back clawing down his back cumming harder than I’d done in too fucking long. Ben’s thrusts jerking unsteadily, my bed collapses to the floor below as his warm seed spills into my womb and a deep guttural roar escapes his kiss swollen lips.

“I needed that.” He says rolling to his back pulling me on top of him making sure his dick doesn’t leave me just yet.

  “I think we both did.” I sigh my body still lightly trembling with my come down. “I love you my Captain, my Soldier Boy, my Ben.” I say lightly pecking his lips between each name.

“I love you too my Sweetheart, my Amphitrite, my Y/n.” Ben responds returning my gesture kissing me back.

We drift off to sleep in each other’s embrace on my now broken bed.

#The Boys #soldier boy x reader #Soldier Boy #supe reader #SMUT #fluff #The Legend #PTSD #Butcher #Hughie #MM #Kimiko #Frenchie #Married #slight dom Soldier Boy #love #kissing #Season 3 rewrite

[bluberimufim]

"What is your OC's pain tolerance like?" And "What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?"

You didn't specify an OC so I'm just gonna spin the character wheel since I've been doing that a lot lately

What is your OC's pain tolerance like?

Oooh, this one's kinda fun!

In short? Inhuman. Jane probably has the most ridiculous pain tolerance known to man.

Apart from the "half-human-half-god except the god part is a whole lot stronger", she was also raised by the Goddess of Time, who tried to make her into a perfect warrior for almost 20 years. She's done almost nothing but train her entire life (she never ate or slept before coming to the Mortal Plane because that's just not a Thing in the Garden). She is, in short, the most perfect soldier ever created.

(Highly specific reference, but you know how in Once Upon A Time (In Space), King Cole specifically built the Rose Reds to feel pain and fear so that they could become better soldiers by overcoming them? Yeah, like that.)

Jane is built to be Theo But Better. She is literally made from a copy or echo of her soul. And towards the end of her life, Theo was in constant pain due to excessive healing and she still kept fighting and acting mostly normally. (I'll post a snippet about that when I write it, I haven't gotten there yet.)

The Goddess of Time also fucked around when she made the souls the Theo clones (Jane is the only one who was stable enough to survive because she basically malfunctioned) by giving them self-regenerating souls. This means that Jane's soul self-replenishes instead of withering away like her sisters', which can cause her to overload when she doesn't use magic for a while. Basically: it's like a closed container to which you constantly add air, with no holes for it to escape through. At some point, the container is gonna explode under all the air pressure. And that's what her body is like.

The only moments she gets overwhelmed by pain are when her soul gets too full, and it causes her to get extremely aggressive, more as a reflex because the only way she learned to use magic was through violence and magic can decrease the "volume" of your soul.

Wow, that was longer than expected...

What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

Ooooh boy. The wheel has served me well.

For this one, you need context on Reiner and Allana, the two people who make up the whole that is Flick. They got soul-fused and it's weird.

Allana is a daughter of the Goddess of Love born during the 20-year cease-fire. And during this cease-fire, Edward Fallin, Master of the Order (Theo's brother? remember him?), is sending his men to kill any demigoddess he can find so the war doesn't re-start.

Well, the first one he manages to kill, two decades into the cease-fire, is Allana (the demigoddesses are slippery, ok?). The Goddess of Love is kinda bummed out about this. She's not mourning like the Goddess of Time mourned for Theo, but she thinks it would be funny if she did. So, for pure entertainment, she decides to get revenge on her sister's pet human (Edward) by cursing one of his children. Because it is a known fact to anyone with eyes that Ed loves his kids more than anything in the world and he's preventing the war mostly because he wants them to live in a time of peace.

Stay with me.

His youngest son is named Reiner (hey look, he finally showed up!) and she decides to fuse the remains of Allana's soul with his, binding them together with a curse. This results in some identity issues, body dysphoria, and general confusion. But that's not all!

The curse binding their souls together is a love curse, meaning that anyone, if exposed to Reiner for too long, will fall in love with him (we're going with the name Reiner for now because they only pick "Flick" a while later). Sometimes this love is platonic and sometimes romantic, but it's extremely intense and always borders on obsession.

"But, Muffin," you ask. "What does this curse have to do with Edward? Wasn't this a revenge against him?"

Yes, and I think you can probably see where this is going.

This curse extends to Reiner's father, Edward. He's the main target actually. There's a whole lengthy analysis about this situation, but basically: the effect of the curse is the most horrible, disgusting twist of a parent's love for their child.

And Reiner knows his father is affected by it, despite him never actually doing anything. He can recognize the look in his eyes and the emotion in his voice because he's seen and heard it so many times before. The curse can't be turned off, it's divine magic. And knowing that even his father, whom he loves dearly and who has taken care of him his whole life, is also a victim of the curse's influence is what makes him run away and try to rip his own soul apart, in the hopes that the curse will be ripped from him as well. And that's where we meet him at the start of book 2.

So, uh... that one felt a bit dark...

Actually, this has plot relevance, so I'm using the tag list: @little-mouse-gardens @wildswrites

#god i digressed so hard into Edward's life #i ended up answering for Flick AND him #tbh i'm kinda unsure of this particular plot point #just bc i feel like it can be branched out in ways that haven't occurred to me yet and it's driving me insane #yes i do take constructive criticism on this one but pls be nice #i like the way it is right now actually but it feels incomplete or smth #needs development #i'm also kinda self conscious about it bc i always get like that with darker themes #anywayyyy #onto the tags #writeblr #writing #my wips #devourer of souls wip #asks #ask game