#I didn't even buy all this stuff I just collected it from other people's

[colleendoran]

How Do I Do Stuff

The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.

I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.

Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.

I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.

I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.

This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.

I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.

This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.

But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.

He's pretty, too.

If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.

Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.

Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.

Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.

However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.

Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.

The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.

Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.

I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.

While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.

So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.

If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.

Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.

Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.

So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.

#snow glass apples #chivalry #neil gaiman #drawing

[kdvnco]

high school enha boys in love

genre! : fluff

pairings! : heeseung x reader, jay x reader, jake x reader, sunghoon x reader, sunoo x reader, jungwon x reader, niki x reader

warnings! : none

do not ask any questions. do not ask where ive been what ive been doing. or when am i posting again💝

LEE HEESEUNG - nerdy guy

Heeseung and his friend group are the biggest losers in the school. They're the type to play Dungeons and Dragons at school and then get bullied. Heeseung is not affected by it at all, he enjoys going to school even if he's not that good at it. Especially now that he developed a small crush on you. He didn't even try to get you, knowing well he had no chance with you. He just hoped. Until he got a chance.

The teacher set you up to a group project, and fortunately or not for you, but you guys needed to work together. You were a quiet girl at school, mid class, not popular or a loser with a decent friend group. You also had no problem working with Heeseung, you just really didn't care. You never hated or bullied him, he was just kinda there. But after working with it, it turned out beside that he is a nerd, he's quiet fun. Hee tried to keep low with his obsession for nerdy stuff, but it didn't bother you at all once you both grew closer. You got along with his friends too who were too obsessed with the tought of speaking to an actual living woman that they constantly stole you away from Heeseung. He thought he finally had the chance, turned out you just wanted to be friends.

[rest utc!]

PARK JONGSEONG - class clown

You were friends with the class clown, Jay. You were his only friend. Though everybody loved him for being funny, he didn't have any close friends besides you. He was easy to talk to, Jay got along with anybody that was forced to interact with him, until it was a woman. For the life of god he couldn't speak to women. You laughed at him for that. You were a girl and his only friend, but it was never a problem to talk with him. He liked you that's why.

All his attempts to make you laugh were weird attempts to flirt with you. It worked out every and each time, only making him to like you more. He wished you also liked him.

He bought you flowers and gifts for you birthday or for different holidays. Taking care of you when you needed him the most. It turns out he can be serious too.

SIM JAEYUN - fuckboy

He's the biggest fuck boy at the school. Everybody knows him, he's super popular with a huge (but full of fuckboys) friend group. Once he notices somebody, he tries his best to make them fall for him, and like that, he collects every girl he sets his eyes. on. You agree he is handsome, but you can't help but despise him. Even more once you see him starring at you in the hallway. You immediately slap your head, knowing well you are his next opponent. He won't give up easily.

You arrive at school to flowers neatly put on your desk and people whispering at the back of the room. And not only does he buy you multiple gifts each week, he approaches you almost every day, trying to strike up a conversation while you try your best to ignore him. You told him off many times before, he's so determined to get you. Jake is annoyed with you. He doesn't want much other than a sweet night spent together.

Jake gets more and more chances to interact with you, actually getting to know you, getting closer to you... slowly falling for you. It takes him a long time to clear his name before ending up with you.

PARK SUNGHOON - pretty boy

He skates, he's pretty and he's quiet. That is all it takes to become the girls' favorite. Sunghoon's not only popular in your class, but many older and younger girls visit him in the breaks, trying to strike up a conversation with him, but mostly he shyly shakes his head as response to the girls' questions. During physical education, many girls watch him play games, visiting him any time they have a free period. Sunghoon loves and hates the attention. It depends on who's giving it to him.

All he begs for is your attention. He secretly wishes you would also bother him in the break, talk to him and let him make you laugh. Whenever he's talking with a girl, from the corner of his eyes he checks if you're looking at him, but it's never the case.

KIM SUNOO - the favorite

Everybody loves Sunoo. He is the sunshine of the school, having multiple friends from each class, being able to talk to anyone about anything easily making him the most liked person at the school.

He's popular in every category, just not when it comes to love. He never thought he would fall for someone, especially not one of his close friends, so when it did turn out that way he didn't know how to act. It was never hard to be around you or talk to you until now. He started avoiding you, luckily he had many friends, but soon he realised none could replace you, and his feelings weren't fading.

He doesn't know how to flirt, his best attempts at trying to make you fall for him was being especially nice to you, hanging out more often, but when all of those attempts were unsuccessful he opened up about his feelings.

YANG JUNGWON - top student

Jungwon was the quiet, straight A's student. So many people had crushes on him, that he was aware about, he just couldn't care less. One thing he cared about is his rival, you. As soon as you joined the class, you also became top student of the school. He became super wary about you, he just couldn't imagine any other person being on his level. He knew he had to worry about his title as the 'Student of The Year', he began to participate in meanigless competitions, but you were there for every and each one of it.

He tried sitting close to you to make sure you are not cheating in any way, or making any suspicious moves, because for sure he'd snitch on you. But this never happened. Instead you started noticing him and teasing him about it. He was so annoyed with you, trying to be better, but even if he was you aced the next test with ease.

He became so obsessed with your life, almost knowing your whole daily routine, starting to fall for you. He noticed so many things about your behaviour that he adored so much. It made him mad, but it was hard to hide it when you teased him and he blushed. You would catch him starring and just quietly laugh at him. It was too obvious, you knew it.

NISHIMURA RIKI - annoying friend

The loud annoying kid in class somehow ended up as your friend. He forced himself at you long enough, so you let him in accepting his friendship, which turned out to be fun. He was funny, outgoing and weird. Exeptionally weird, making it even more fun to be his friend.

The more he hung out with you the more you liked him, quality time tying you together with him emotionally. He introduced you to his other friends, inviting you to hang outs whenever you were free, and because you started liking him... more than a friend you freed up your time just him. You wanted to know if he felt the same, but nothing changed even when you asked to hang out just the two of you. He acted the same.

The only reason you ended up with him was, because his friend snitched on him. Niki, no way in hell would confess to you, so they helped him. You would have nevet guessed he liked you back.

#enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reaction #enhypen soft hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagine #enhypen reactions #heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #jay x reader #jay fluff #jake fluff #jake x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunoo fluff #sunoo x reader #sunoo imagine #jungwon fluff #jungwon x reader #niki fluff #niki x reader #niki imagines #riki x reader

[bomberqueen17]

sketchy grocery store shit: a very middle-aged rant

Man so. I went to college in Rochester and so I did my first I'm An Adult Shopping For My Own Groceries shopping in a Wegmans. I got used to the way the store works, how things were laid out. And of course, i got a Shopper's Club card.

I still have it somewhere, use it occasionally, but I had to get another one when I misplaced it because they asked what phone number it was tied to and like, man, it was a Rochester number with a 716 area code, that's how long ago it was. (It's 585 there now.)

I got conditioned to try the Wegmans brand generic for whatever brand name thing I was buying, because it was often the same, and was cheaper. (Though, RIP to the old Wegmans box mac n cheese, they enshittified that in 1999 once we were all good and hooked and we all mourned and switched to Annie's and never looked back. Maybe it's better now but I don't rely on that stuff the way I used to.) I got conditioned to always swipe the card because sure they were collecting data on you but in a $70 trip I'd save five bucks easy, it wasn't nothing! And I also learned to look for their Family Packs, which were larger containers of the same item for less per unit-- if it was something not that perishable, or something you could get through, it was worth spending a little more now to stretch it later!

Anyway. I went to Wegmans yesterday, I live in Buffalo now and we have them here too, and we have a rotation of grocery stores we patronize but when I do the shopping, I'm still the most used to Wegmans, I know where stuff is, and I knew some of the stuff I wanted, they'd be the ones to have. (The organic co-op doesn't carry Doritos and sometimes in the doldrums of winter a bitch needs some of that poison, y'know?)

I'd noticed before that the Shoppers Club isn't a savings thing anymore. I didn't have my own card for one visit and the cashier went to great lengths to get me a swipe from a manager, and at the end I'd spent $200 and saved.... fifty cents.

This time around I'd taken advantage of a buy one get one deal to get a second box of something I didn't really need a second box of, only to discover it was buy one get a dollar off the second, so I saved a whole dollar and actually spent three I hadn't needed to. Well, whatever. It's not perishable and I'll eventually go through it.

But the other thing I noticed was the wild price swings by different packaging of the same item. I should've taken pictures. But like-- ok, raw baby spinach. I fucking love spinach. They had a smaller bag and then next to it they had a Family Pack. I hesitated-- it is hard to use up leafy greens but I fucking love spinach and I could make the effort-- and then I looked. I can't do math but fortunately they are required by law to have the price per unit breakdown on every price sticker. Because the small bag of spinach was $1.99, and was $3.99/lb. (A pound of spinach is a lot.) The Family Pack next to it? It was $3.99, which seemed like a good price jump. But on the per-item breakdown, it came out to $7.99/lb. It didn't actually have any more spinach in it. It was just a different-shaped bag and cost more. For no reason. And there was a whole shelf of the larger bags, and only a small display of the smaller ones. They're just expecting people, conditioned like I am, to say "ah i can use more spinach i'll take the savings" and buy the more expensive bag. But I did just do the math (which is difficult for me so you know I'm mad about this) and that is literally the exact same amount of spinach for twice the price.

Similar for stew beef but they went too far with it, it wasn't even plausible. There was a large pack for forty-nine dollars and I didn't even look to see how much was in it because i do not have forty-nine dollars for stew beef, I found a one-pound bag for $8.99. But I had this same issue before, and was more persistent last time I went: you can buy a three-pound chuck roast for $7.99/lb, which is a chunk of change but it's a lot of meat, and cut it into stew beef yourself and save some money that way, but I just knew I did not have it in me this week to cut up yet another chuck roast when I got home. (Full disclosure: i wasn't even looking at the grass-fed organic shit this was just regular USDA whatever Meets Regulations And Is Legal To Sell shit.)

Stew beef is supposed to be the trimmings and it is supposed to be cheap. But they have realized people prefer it, more recipes call for it because it was historically cheaper, and so they have marked it up and it is more expensive than the whole roast. Because most cooks reading a recipe are not going to necessarily know why it calls for stew beef and that they could substitute a superior cut if the price wasn't good.

I am aware that buying the pre-marinated individual convenience cuts is historically where they make their profit and I don't begrudge them that; if that's what I was shopping for I would not be that mad about paying $7 for three cents worth of marinade ingredients, because it is much easier to cook something like that with the attached recipe and because a lot of the markup is the labor costs in putting all that shit together. I don't begrudge them that at all and when I'm paying for it I'm well aware that I am.

But I really do resent how much of the price-gouging is happening by abusing the patterns of behavior they conditioned us into. I learned, twenty years ago, to look for the deals and look for the bulk packs, and now I am being punished for having learned that. I don't mind paying a premium for something I know is a convenience fee, but being charged extra for my formerly-thrifty shopping habits really stings. I shouldn't have to exercise constant vigilance in the fucking grocery store, it's stressful enough to be the only masked person in there and now you have to compete with the huge carts they use for the online ordering peeps that take up a lot of the aisle.

Maybe it's easier to do the price comparisons on the website?

Oh and there are a number of products they now only carry the Wegmans generic for. (You can't get Snyder pretzel bites anymore, and the Wegmans version doesn't come in quite the same flavors, so I have to go to Dash's to get those now.) And still others where the Wegmans version is pricier. And, alas, some where the more expensive Wegmans version is better. (Polly-O string cheese, why are you so bland?? You're a snack baby. The Wegmans generic has salt in it and is a ton more pleasant to eat.)

IDK I don't have a thesis here it's just that being alive in the 2020s is way harder than being alive in the 2000s even though I was poorer then and didn't know shit. I don't miss my youth and I super don't miss George W Bush but I miss when I was figuring stuff out and it seemed to make sense. And I sorta miss when the Wegmans cashiers used to wear t-shirts bragging about how highly-ranked Wegmans was by whatever organization that was that ranked how good places are to work for.

Also, they try to steer you to use the self checkouts, but baby if you have more than two shopping bags' worth of stuff in your cart you had better wait in however long that line is to let a real human put it into bags for you because the self-checkout does not have any mechanism for you to remove and replace a full shopping bag from the bagging area. I told the cashier how much I appreciated him because he wasn't screaming at me, and he was like yah those self-checkouts yell at you a lot.

(Every Wegmans cashier for twenty years has been super nice. I doubt they're in a union, I wish they were.)

Yeah yeah this is the most middle-aged thing I've written yet but I'm in physical therapy and just bought a recliner for the ergonomics so I'm clearly grappling with my own mortality here, and I'm writing this partly out of concern for the kids who are where I was in 2000. What the hell are they being conditioned to do, by all this????? Shit, man.

#about the author #real life

[enbesbians]

‘PHEROMONE FLOWER’

perverted! abby x dom bottom! reader

cw: abby is extremely perverted so beware, bed humping, panty sniffing, scent kink, face riding (r! receiving), asphyxiation if you squint, creep! abby, manipulative! reader, mentions of masturbating to the sound of you

MINORS DNI

summary: it started off as a harmless crush, admiring how cute you looked, thinking the clothes you wore looked compliments on your figure and adoring the way you smiled - it made her heart warm. it led onto wanting to be the guys you had interest in, then obsessing over the fact that you just smelt so goddamn good. she knew this was wrong but her body needed you.

a/n: i apologize if this was a bit too perverted... i had a quick thought of what abby would be into and i kind of had the idea that she'd have a major scent kink (from her love of smelling like pine...) this is heavily inspired by one of my favorite reddit audio creators, juilenbadlands!! i do hope that you find some type of enjoyment while reading... again, this is not proofread.

this is a repost and i copied it all from a screenshot so if it looks ‘weird’ (and you might see what i mean), i apologize.

abby picked on the littlest things. if anything was out of order, she'd loathe at it's misplacement. it could be the bathroom light being on after someone came out of it, or the droplets of a water falling from the faucet that hadn't been turned all the way off— the smallest of things would upset her and it would make her even more mad knowing that all that anger was unwarranted. she'd think she was just being overdramatic, grumbling at the fact that the fridge hadn't been closed all the way or if the front door wasn't locked. she didn't want to be that way, but she couldn't help herself. she was usually very calm and self put but this was the last straw.

the laundry had been mixed again. it's happened a few times before and with two other roommates, one being you, it was prone for something like this to happen. with your shirts being lodged in the bottom of her basket or maybe a few of your socks, or the other roommates scarfs that she'd oddly collect. each time it did happen, one piece of her own clothing would be missing— whether it be her own shirt or sock, the pair that once was, now rests at one. it was obvious that the stuff that was fondled within her fabric was not hers. she had nothing but muscle tees, big shirts and pants with hundreds of pockets on the sides of it's leg, not panties with yellow printed flowers.

its funny, the personality someone has just from their underwear. abby loved her boxer briefs, they were comfortable and soft. she'd fold them and have them neatly placed in her dresser just so she can pick one that felt right for the day. the first time she had owned a pair was when she used her birthday money, going down the maple road of her neighborhood to buy a six pack of men's underwear and blue raspberry flavored bubblegum. she felt elated- anything deemed as masculine in the form of clothes made life easier for her to walk in.

the thing is, abby has grown up with you both- the roommate and you. being a trio since ten has granted you some gifts within life that would forever be etched into her memory. it was euphoric, having someone like you both in her life as she'd go through the horrid times of puberty. it was like you were her safety blanket, a person she could hide behind if anything got too out of touch for her liking.

abby was a kind soul, people often called her gullible-the sight in her view painting sublime as she had been laced with innocence, believing that the sun would always shine and never fall. she didn't think that the person she is now would be the complete opposite, pessimistic, overindulgent, vulgar and with an enormous sex drive. something within her changed, her warped outlook on what seemed to be now in an uncertain zeal.

one thing that she didn't expect that would be the biggest downfall that gave her shame as well as pleasure is that she couldn't stop sniffing your panties.

she'd often watch you— see how you chatted and made yourself so pretty and composed for any guy you ended up having a crush on. the giggles you'd give when they gave you any type of attention like giving you a smile or asking for a pencil. it hadn't been until this one specific guy you had a crush on became the main topic in almost every conversation that made her realize that a crush was in the process. the way your friend group tried so hard to make you and him a thing, placing down chest pieces, aiding moves to make you and him as one. abby was in on it too, of course, but only at the sidelines.

she'd noticed how oblivious he was. when you tried to ask him out for lunch or get any time to just have some one on one conversation. he just didn't fucking get it. it annoyed her... she wondered why a guy like him wasn't noticing a girl like you and your advances. if she was able to swap bodies with the guy, she'd steal you in a heartbeat- just from the first advance, she'd take her chance and make you feel content and not feel like you had been chasing tirelessly for a guy that barely paid you much attention.

each time you tried, batting your eyelashes or swishing your hips while wearing a skirt you had bought with the money you had in your piggy bank, abby found herself admiring you as if she were him. she noticed that she liked the color of your eyes and how they sparkled when the sunlight hit it just right. or the way your thighs looked whenever you wore a dress. it was harmless of course, nothing shameful in finding a friend attractive. but it wasn't until the night of a friend gathering where she had come to her senses that she didn't just have an attraction towards you... she wanted you.

at the age of eighteen as you all hold onto plastic red cups off illegally bought beer, sitting in a circle around a campfire, abby sat beside you- with her dark flannel and ocean colored jeans- eyeing you as you tried so desperately to not let the wind make your skirt fly up. a little game of truth or dare was orchestrated by some guy- he was an asshole and only played it just to get a quick fuck from one of the girls. it started tame, if you could call it that, guys asking other guys to do stupid stuff like eat dirt or run around with their shirt off. then it slowly gone sexual like give said person a lap dance or suck another's tongue.

the question had been turned to you, giggling cutely as you've always done- the clear gloss on your lip with the shining rays of the sun gleaming against it. it had been asked to kiss the guy you found most attractive and it had been him. the one you had sought out for for the longest time. abby could feel jealousy arise in her, clenching on the cup, almost breaking the plastic with her fingernails as she watched you. it wasn't just a peck of the lips, you indulged him fully, taking his lips and sucking in the bottom of his lip like he had been the only source to your hunger.

abby wished that could've been her. her eyes hadn't left from where your lips had connected, feeling the familiar wet patch dampen her boxer briefs, seeing your hand slide so delicately beside his cheek. her attraction only deepened from that moment, realizing what your mouth could do and what you opted to be a kiss— which was really a heated makeout session.

through the years of all three of you being friends, the hunger that lies within abby festered into something much greater than she'd like to admit. she daydreamed about you— she remembered the way your lips moved when you spoke and when you kissed him. she remembered the little quirks you had that you hated and she loved. each waking second, she found a sensation in watching you be the woman you were. the silly little slumber parties that you'd all dress up and try on the shittiest makeup you could ever find in your mom's makeup pouch, and when it was time to sleep, how you flung yourself to lay on her.

it wasn't until the day after graduation when all three of you went to different colleges. she felt like she was able to breathe knowing that you wouldn't be around. abby dabbled in her sexuality, learning the pros and cons behind being inexperienced during sex and coming to terms that men just wasn't something she desired. she had been in numerous relationships, thinking that the thought of you and the image of you would finally pass and for those good five years of being away, she truly thought the obsession she had struggled with had finally led itself to rest.

but it didn't.

the three of you made a decision of living together once you all finished school— the feeling of dread obliterating your mind as all the reminiscent memories and emotions puddled back to her. she couldn't say no, she didn't want to live with her parents again, she wanted to be her own person and live with people she cared about.

the day of the move, she had seen you. the honeyed look of your eyes as you smiled so gleefully at the fact that you hadn't seen her in such a long time. she had gotten muscular, bigger than she had ever been, with arms bulging in the muscle top she had worn. you hugged her and she felt her whole body wither in arousal. she immediately remembered the obsessiveness she had once had and came to terms that it truly never left her.

the days of you living in the same abode had given her nothing but whiplash— you walking around in those pajama shorts as if you hadn't realized how good your ass looked in them and the way she stared so feverishly. surprisingly so, abby was quick with her glances and you still thought of her as the same shy, quiet and innocent girl who had hid behind you when needed be.

the first few times of mixed laundry was the worst and knowing that some of her favorite articles of clothing had been missing or even in you or your friends dressers by mistake was something she couldn't let go at the price of her anger.

and yet, the cloth of your underwear was now in her hands, her thumb running across the seems of the elastic lace, and flowers that ran all over. not only was it obvious that these pair of underwear wasn't hers, it was the scent that alluded her to smell them in the first place. they were clean of course, but you had this aroma that would sink into every one of your clothes. each hug you'd give abby, she'd sneak and inhale the sweetness your body gave off.

it was embarrassing, how she was so driven off the smell of you. she could remember the day you started to care more about your image, sitting beside her with your adoring smile. you'd put golden star stickers on the sides of your binder and draw hearts over your i's and j's. you'd scribble with your sparkle gel pens and drink from your insulated cup. she thought you were silly and overcompensated for something as simple as history notes, but she unconsciously found it cute, enjoying the randomly placed strawberry stickers she'd find on her worksheets.

in the first few days of her developing a crush, it had been one time where she had a quick whiff of your shampoo, something similar to ocean breeze and the perfume you were, sweet like sugar plums. each day, she made sure to give you hugs just for that reason, it was her excuse that she chose not to accept and let it build in her desire.

her mind swam with a million thoughts with most being shameful indulgences. she already liked the lotion, perfume and shampoo you had on, but what was your natural scent? was it just as good as how you already smelt? there was only one option and she knew it wasn't the right one.

turning to her left and then to her right, she made sure she was alone. her fingers twitched as she hesitantly lifted the cloth towards her face, burying her nose in it's crotch, eyes flickering shut and taking in the warmth that embedded itself in your panties. a long inhale and hallowing lungs, she could feel herself get dizzy from you. she felt a high she hadn't ever felt before. the erotic nature of your scent made her feel like this had been her first time getting turned on— and the shame of this action made it worse but strangely erotic.

she imagined the way they'd look on you, the elastic hugging your waist and how your clit would prettily poke from its cloth. she thought about how you'd get aroused, the light patch of wetness dampening it- and once you pulled them down, how your slick would connect from it's cloth to your slit.

another deep inhale. she took you into her, the entirety of her airway enveloped by you, blocking any other scent that filled the shared apartment. the feeling of arousal crept up and feathered down her back, wrapping around her clit as it began to swell.

"oh my god.." she breathed, moaning out not able to understand how someone could smell this good. "the smell." she wanted to touch herself, run her hands all over her body and let the enjoyment of this shameful bliss grant her growing pleasure.

she took one last inhale, the rush of her eagerness came crashing down as nothing in her mind that seemed logical began to flood through. removing it from her face, she looked at it, seeing the indentation of her nose within its fabric, already missing the feeling of it rubbing against her skin.

she stared, zoning out, realizing what she had just done. the obsession never went away, it only grew into something so psychotic and so perverted. how does one go from liking the spritz of your perfume to natural aroma of your panties?

‘you can't find out’ she mumbled to herself. there's no way she'd let you know that she had done something so vulgar, so impulsive as smell your panties. she stuffed it in her pocket, making sure it wouldn't fall out if it could even with how deep her pockets usually were. she continued to sort the laundry, thinking and regretting.

that was the start of it all. the need to feed off of your aroma was something she couldn't tame. whenever you were off at work and your other roommate had went off to run errands, she'd sneak into your room, finding a pair of your panties that she could lose herself in, drinking in each hitch of breath as she could feel herself falling into the abyss.

the scent of your pussy was like magic, like all those fantasies of her fucking you and how the air would smell gave her something she'd be able to touch and keep in the back of her mind. laying in her bed, legs spread as she vigorously rubbed her clit, panties pressed up against her nose, cumming over and over again until she felt like the scent had lost within her air waves. her fingers would prod into her cunt, the walls within clenching onto them, humping down and fucking herself onto them like it had been your own fingers.

there would be times where she'd hear you in your bedroom— fucking a man who had pounded you

deeply into the mattress. she tried to put in

headphones thinking it would be indecent if she heard

something as vulnerable as your moans, hearing you cry on how good it was feeling. she noticed that you didn't like it when your partners fucked you slow, you liked it when they used you like a slut, imagining how you'd bounce on them like a primal animal.

she couldn't take the tune of the song she tried so desperately to distract herself with, and so shelistened. the headboard of the bed banging against the wall as you wail in pleasure, asking them to keep fucking you and not to stop. she wanted to be him... she wanted to fuck you so badly.

and so she'd wait. through the shared shower you and your partner had after the sexual engagement, she went in your room.

"what the fuck am i doing...?" she whispered to herself. her mind and body not linking together in what was the most sane thing she could°ve done which was stay in her room. instead she laid in your bed, smelling the

scent of sex that had interlocked itself in your sheet, getting an even greater sense of what you smelled like when you were turned on.

you smelt so fucking good. she already felt her clit swell with excitement, her underwear soiling itself as her nose lodged itself in the sheets of your bed. she just laid their, inhaling it, letting it eat her away and satisfy her perverted torment.

her body slid off the bed, with one leg still draped on it as the other kneeled on the floor. her fingers clutching onto the sheets as she mindlessly moved her hips against the mattress. she could feel the friction run and strike her clit with the greed of what she wished she could have.

the movement of her hips quickened— staggered and inconsistent, rutting against the sex scented bed while she let her clit pleasure itself onto your bed. she could hear how wet she was, she could even hear the moans that once were bouncing of the walls of your bedroom, fucking herself to oblivion as she mindlessly humps to thought of you getting fucked deeply.

"fuck... god... why am i doing this?" she mouthed, eyes rolling back at the satisfaction this action was giving her. it was so dirty, so grotesque, so riveting, so embarrassing. i wanna fuck you... holy fuck i wanna fuck you... please... please let me fuck you you." she mumbled, feeling herself needing to cum desperately.

it wasn't until the sound of the shower had gone silent when she scurried out of your bedroom and tried to seem as if she had just been watching tv on the couch. it took awhile, but then she saw you walk in. you were glowing so brightly- ocean breeze now filling her airway again as you walk over towards the kitchen.

'god im such a pervert’ she sighed to herself, the familiar feeling of regret washing over her and hitting her like a truck.

it was as if she couldn't stop. at each inhale, she needed more. anything and everything that has your fragrance on it, she needed to indulge. there was a handful of times where she'd lodge your pillow in between her legs, riding it slowly, moaning your name gently, enjoying the idea that her own scent would be on your pillow— but she couldn't allow that. any time she rutted against your bed and pillow, she'd wash it. you hadn't found anything odd about it since abby was usually the one who washed everyone's things when it was wash day. so everything went according to plan as she continued to discreetly fall into her obsession.

she ended up keeping some pairs of your panties and hid them in her own clothes, hearing the confused comments of where they could've possibly went. you didn't know that the culprit had been your childhood friend, your roommate. abby anderson.

she tried to get a relationship again, or even a fling where she could possibly get something other than the aromatic taste of your ravenous essence. she'd fuck them good and hard— her frustration burning at the form of her hips as she relentlessly gave them what she would've given you. her strap deep inside them, with their legs curled over her shoulders, letting the angle of her pounds be in direct contact of their sweet spot.

even through the action of lust with another, she couldn't get you out. it was like she had been trapped. what kind of spell did you have on her? the angry eroticism that filled through every encounter she had made her sexual partners feel as if they received the best strap down of their lives. the way she'd bury her face in their pussy and ate them, devouring every hole and every slick their cunt leaked.

it still didn't fill that void.

when she'd heard you touching yourself beyond the wall, she do the same and somehow that gave her an even greater orgasm than she had with any other girl she tried to forget those thoughts with.

the way you sung and the buzz of your toy— she imagined it pressed up against your clit, the flesh of it rumbling so prettily as you tried to reach the ultimate bliss. her body would contort and shrivel in the immense thrum of delectation.

"cum with me." she'd moan to herself as she heard you through the connecting wall, "cum with me please...”

for the last time, she wanted to savor the piquant taste of what you had engraved in your panties. she needed to let this die out even if her mind, body and spirit wouldn't allow her to. she needed to take this one time and finally let go of her filthy salacious thoughts, her perverted dream. she knew she had no chance. after years and years of wanting to be something with you, wanting to run her lips against your skin and take you in with the urgency to devour your whole being.

thing is, she didn’t hear you come home. you were let off work early and you hummed at the fact that you’d be able to relax since you were off the next day. the simplicity of hearing your keys unlock the front door gave you the upmost joy knowing that you were allowed to be lazy in the warmth of your home.

you didn’t know anyone would be here. you didn’t know abby would be sitting in your bed, hands sliding into her underwear and rubbing her clit fast just to get off this one last time just as she promised herself.

odd sounds came from beyond your bedroom door, unsure of what it could be since abby and your other roommate supposedly— by your own self awareness— never came in. the door had opened, and to your surprise, you found her, captivated by her own dirty conviction, smelling your panties like some type of animal. all you did was stand there, watching how her wrist turned and her the imprint of her fingers collided with her boxer briefs while she had then stuff inside of her cunt.

it would be a lie if the confusion you felt was also intertwined with arousal. the beating of your heart paced faster than you ever thought it could. your childhood friend was sniffing your panties and you didn’t know what to do.

as her eyes slowly opened, she swore her life felt like it had ended. the grasp of the door handle was tight, and the glow of the sun that fell behind you was bright-the darkness of the room only showing a shame filled abby that had ripped her hand from her cunt.

"look!" she exclaimed, throwing the panties behind her,

"i…..im sorry. i know this looks weird but i promise it's not what it looks like... i just... i uh!" she couldn't think of one excuse that could take the spotlight off of her.

she couldn't tell what expression that drew on your face but no matter what it was, the embarrassment of what could've been avoided consumed her.

in all honest, even if you hadn't went out as strong as abby did, there was a lace of attraction you had for her. growing up, she always had this tall and strong stature about herself even though back the she lacked a lot more muscle than she did now. each year, abby grew and her body formed into the goddess build that she had today. the day you all reconnected, you saw the way her body had came to be. the way she looked bigger and stronger than any man you had been with, with an expression that looked as though she could lead an army, there was an enticed curiosity of what was underneath the layers of abby anderson.

you heard when she'd play with herself and you respected her enough to let her know that you hadn't noticed, no matter how quiet she tried to be but you definitely heard her when she would fuck women— her moans were hunger filled grunts and groans like she had been so angered by how good she was feeling that she had to relentlessly use her partners like sex toys.

as you did, you wanted to know what it felt like to get fucked that hard, you asked your partners to do the same, mirroring what you thought abby would do, hammering your cunt with their cock, feeling your insides flutter in a pleasure you didn't think existed before your knowledge of how abby used her own hips.

you didn't go as far as smelling her clothes, hump her bed or anything she probably had done that you didn't know, but yet and still, there was that slight curiosity.

"abby..?" you stood, frequently swallowing the drying spit you left on your tongue. "wha...what the fuck are you doing?" you added, taking one step in, feeling the heat of her body swell amongst your bedroom. you couldn't come to terms that you had self consciously found yourself growing wet at the image.

she sat in her normal man spreading pose, seeing her light briefs painted with a dark patch of her arousal that led to her clit. veins drawing up the sides of her arms and scattered on her big... enticing hands.

"nothing... i…" her lips ajar, frantically looking around as she looked at the inanimate objects that were placed randomly in your room. her shoulders dropped, her braid sliding over her shoulders as she gave up in trying to save face for her perverted intentions. “i was.. sniffing your..." she mumbled, it almost coming out inaudible.

biting on the skin of your lip, you felt the pain of your heart erupt as it pounded at your ribcage, your feet walking without much thought as you continued your stroll until you were met up with her up close- her worrisome eyes wavering thinking that you'd slap her or scream at her. and in some ways, she wanted that. she felt like she deserved to feel like the disgusting girl that she was and came to be. she welcomed it.

any form of engagement was enough to satisfy her even if it were to be nothing but pure anger coming from you. “if you need to hit me... do it... what i did was wrong... it's pathetic... im a pervert... i..”

"shut up." you spat, not knowing if you wanted to be angry or turned on. her lips pressed together almost immediately, her eyes at her legs, not wanting to face someone as beautiful as you and witness the betrayal in your expression.

you grabbed her face in your hand, her eyebrows waved in a solemn state. with your jaw clenching, you looked at her. oh how stupid her pretty face looked when ashamed. the bottom of her lip jutted out in a pout and her body rose as she hitched each breath she took.

the feeling of your fingers were electrifying, like she'd cum in an instant only from that simple touch and color in your eyes. she tried so hard to not let her eyes wonder but she couldn't help as they trailed down your body to look at the shape of your breast in your fitted shirt. noticing this, you yank her head up, making her look at you again— what a fucking pervert, you thought.

"you're disgusting." you told her, your tone turning into a taunt as you started to enjoy the fact that her submission- the girl that fucked women so roughly-was in the palm of your hands. "pathetic. perverted. nasty. that's what you are abby... just a filthy pervert."

she nodded her head, humming in acknowledgment, “i know...”

out of all the things abby thought of, she could never prepare herself for you pushing her back onto your bed, her back bouncing against the mattress. a quiet gasp exited from her lips as you sat yourself on her lap, holding her wrists and placing them above her hands.

"you're into me that much... you're in my bed, sniffing my underwear... so idiotic." you laughed.

"wait." she breathed, a glimmer of enjoyment coming from the dominance you placed between you both and how you pinned her down underneath you.

"shut your fucking mouth. im talking." and she nodded. what a good girl.

the corner of your lips tugged in a smirk, noticing the effect you have on her. no parter you've had went out their way to do something as belittling as smell her underwear. if only you knew the many things she has done with the thought of you, with all her wants and desires in the bundle of her aching clit, it'd be safe to say that it was hot that she was willing to do all that and try so desperately not to get caught.

"since you're here, sniffing my underwear like a rabid animal.." you led on, your face inches from her, voice now soaking in sultry warmth, "im gonna ride your fucking face and i want you to show me what you do when im not around"

after all these years, torturing herself, swallowing down the need to pursue you, it all was given to her in this moment. she thought she was hallucinating- that it was her guilt imagining the entire thing, thinking your body was nearly a haze and that you had still been at work. all she did was lie there, dumbfounded at the words you spoke, itching to know your next moment, the next breath of words you'd speak. anything you'd do, she accept in a heartbeat.

slipping out from your pants, your huddled your way to hover her face, your panties showing the wet spot that abby had made by her filth. with no warning, you planted yourself down, feeling the form of her lips and nose prod against your clothed pussy.

abby laid their limp, feeling as if she'd suffocate, not by you sitting on her face but the daze in which she couldn't grasp at the shock her body was going through. she admired the way you looked, so sexy in just your panties, the way your clit poked against it- it was just like she had envisioned- and how it felt as it placed itself on her face. she latched on with her lips, sucking through the fabric frenetically, humming pure delight at the scent she encapsulated. her tongue ran along your clothed slit, letting it bury in its floods, feeling the warmth heat her face.

rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel your heat rise up from within your body, hands still grasping onto her wrists. something about this was different— it was passionate, sharing a moment with a person you trusted throughout the years and now engaged, enabling her impulsivity. it felt good, it felt wrong, but your hips couldn’t stop.

“god you’re such a dirty girl abby…” falling in love with the way you held so much power over her. still this wasn’t enough as good as it felt, you wanted to know what her tongue could really do. momentarily, you rise, taking your panties off to see yourself dripping down from your entrance.

“oh my god…” she breathed, “oh my god… oh my god, oh my fucking god. yes…”

lowering yourself once again, her head lifted before you could even fully sit on her face, lips latching on and inhaling your pussy into her mouth. your eyes rolled back, your body trembling loosely. the way she moved her tongue was better than any man that had given you head— she wasn’t careful, she was direct. she knew the weak spots that could make a girl cum in an instant, using her entire face to stimulate you. moans filled abby’s ears, heightening in volume as your hips snapped, fucking her face, feeling the curve in her nose hit the base of your clit.

"your voice is turning me on so much" she whimpered, her mouth full of you.

her face was buried deeply into your cavern, her salvia adding to the mess your slick had already made. she slurped at the skin, your vulva fluttering in and out from her lips, leaving damp kisses at the bud of your clit. the sounds eliciting from her lips were absolutely disgusting and delicious, the tepidity soaring from both of your bodies-abby's underwear absolutely drenched and aching to be touched yet the high from devouring you fulfilled her to the max and she wanted so much more, she needed to bathe in it, feast on it. abby licked a sloppy thick stripe, letting her tongue reach any place the position would let her in. "god you smell so good... you taste... so fucking good." she breathed out heavily- her wet pink lips rotating around your clit, jaw jittering as she tried to study herself towards your orgasm.

you lost as her muscle swam against your slit, tongue plunging in your opening which made you sing a series of uncontrollable moans. your fingers curling into her golden blonde locks-loving the feeling. she wanted you to tug at it, show her how good she's making you feel by your actions, ride her face like she's perverted scum is. she could feel the tingle wash from down her scalp and spine, making her groan deeply against your cunt, feeling it almost itch her own throat. raising her hand over your thigh, she rests it above your clit, pressing the bottom of your stomach- letting them create small indentions in your skin- while placing her thumb down on it's bud, rolling its skin up as she sucked hungrily, flickering her tongue at its exposure.

you squirmed, seeing how pathetic she looked looked as she tried to get you there. her body humping into the nothingness of air, needing for some type of friction. "fuck... oh fuck." she whined.

your thighs clamped her head, feeling the pressure pound in a glorious headache. “you need two breathe?" you joked drunkly, the sound of the bed creaking from the nonstop movement. abby could care less about needing to breath, she wanted to bask in this as long as you'd let her.

as much as you wanted to hold it, you couldn't, your body was in too much of a rush to even control itself. it kept moving, rutting on her face as abby felt herself needing to breathe.

“im gonna cum.." you announced, looking down to her barely visible face, her eyes directed right at you while she watched every movement your face made. the contact made your high arrive faster than you comprehended, letting out a moan louder than you ever let out, your high shooting through every part of your body.

clenching your eyes tight, you held your breath, body jolting forward as your high took over, calming yourself down as it started to subside. "holy fuck.." you sighed, coming to your senses as you lifted your leg from her face, sitting beside her to see her face covered in your cum and slick. she looked content, breathing in as much air as she could, still smelling the scent fill her lungs.

"wow…" she whispered, not able to get over the fact that you just rode her face. she stared at the ceiling, thinking that she had seen the gates of heaven.

"and just for that.." you spoke trying to catch your breath, "you don't get to cum. get out of my room." you demanded, her body turning towards you, showing a puzzled look.

“but..”

"oh abby... you've been such a bad girl. why would i let you cum? if you be a good girl, maybe one day, id let you fuck me." you cooed, biting down on your lip as you watch a thousand expressions form into one on her face. "now get out."

getting up from your bed, she looked confused but pleased at the fact that she just has a face full of your pussy. running her tongue over her lips, she wanted to savor the mess you had left, her finger gliding against her chin to gather the dripping slick. with one last turn, she looked at you, a devious glow brightening your face.

now you understand what you meant to abby. you understood how you'd control this goddess of a woman. you needed time to think this through, debating whether you should let this be the first and last time or make her your pleasure doll. nonetheless, she left, and you laid on your back, still feeling the throbs of your vibrating clit.

"goddamn." you breathed, "she really knows how to eat pussy…”

#lesbian #wlw #sapphic #abby tlou #abby anderson #the last of us #tlou #abby anderson the last of us #abby the last of us #abby x masc!reader #abby x y/n #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson smut #abby x you #abby smut #abby x reader #abby #abby x black reader #the last of us abby

[centrally-unplanned]

Another big stop in Tokyo for me was Jimbocho Book Town! It is a neighborhood of, depending on who you ask, up to 400 generally-secondhand bookstores flanked by some of the major universities in Tokyo. The local government even prints out maps of the stores to help people find them all:

Which, you will note, is not 400 stores, because the process of becoming an "official" Jimbocho Town Bookstore is an intensely political operation run by local stakeholders with tons of fights over what should qualify and what rights that entails - never change humanity!

"Book Towns" used to actually be quite a common thing, and they peaked during the literary boom of the late 19th century. Figuring out "what books existed" was a hard task, and to do serious research you needed to own the books (you weren't making photocopies), so concentrating specialty bookstores in one area made sense to allow someone to go to one place and ask around to find what they need and discover what exists. It was academia's version of Comiket! Modern digital information & distribution networks slowly killed or at least reduced these districts in places like Paris or London, but Jimbocho is one of the few that still survives.

Why it has is multi-causal for sure - half of this story is that Tokyo is YIMBY paradise and has constantly built new buildings to meet demand so rents have been kept down, allowing low-margin, individually-owned operations to continue where they have struggled in places like the US. These stores don't make much money but they don't have to. But as important is that Japan has a very strong 'book collector' culture, it's the original baseball cards for a lot of people. The "organic" demand for a 1960's shoujo magazine or porcelainware picture book is low, but hobbyists building collections is a whole new source of interest. Book-as-art-collection powered Jimbocho through until the 21st century, where - again like Comiket - the 'spectacle' could give it a lift and allow the area to become a tourist attraction and a mecca for the ~cozy book hoarder aesthetic~ to take over. Now it can exist on its vibes, which go so far as to be government-recognized: In 2001 the "scent wafting from the pages of the secondhand bookstore" was added to Japan's Ministry of Environment's List of 100 Fragrance Landscapes.

Of course this transition has changed what it sells; when it first began in the Meiji area, Jimbocho served the growing universities flanking it, and was a hotpot of academic (and political-polemic) texts. Those stores still exist, but as universities built libraries and then digital collections, the hobby world has taken over. Which comes back to me, baby! If you want Old Anime Books Jimbocho is one of the best places to go - the list of "subculture" stores is expansive.

I'll highlight two here: the first store I went to was Kudan Shobo, a 3rd floor walk-up specializing in shoujo manga. And my guys, the ~vibes~ of this store. It has this little sign outside pointing you up the stairs with the cutest book angel logo:

And the stairs:

Real flex of Japan's low crime status btw. Inside is jam-packed shelves and the owner just sitting there eating dinner, so I didn't take any photos inside, but not only did it have a great collection of fully-complete shoujo magazines going back to the 1970's, it had a ton of "meta" books on shoujo & anime, even a doujinshi collection focusing on 'commentary on the otaku scene' style publications. Every Jimbocho store just has their own unique collection, and you can only discover it by visiting. I picked up two books here (will showcase some of the buys in another post).

The other great ~subculture~ store I went to was Yumeno Shoten - and this is the store I would recommend to any otaku visiting, it was a much broader collection while still having a ton of niche stuff. The vibes continued to be immaculate of course:

And they covered every category you could imagine - Newtype-style news magazine, anime cels, artbooks, off-beat serial manga magazines, 1st edition prints, just everything. They had promotional posters from Mushi Pro-era productions like Cleopatra, nothing was out of reach. I got a ton of books here - it was one of the first stores I visited on my second day in Jimobocho, which made me *heavily* weighed down for the subsequent explorations, a rookie mistake for sure. There are adorable book-themed hotels and hostels in Jimbocho, and I absolutely could see a trip where you just shop here for a week and stay nearby so you can drop off your haul as you go.

We went to other great stores - I was on the lookout for some 90's era photography stuff, particularly by youth punk photographer Hiromix (#FLCL database), and I got very close at fashion/photography store Komiyama Shoten but never quite got what I was looking for. Shinsendo Shoten is a bookstore devoted entirely to the "railway and industrial history of Japan" and an extensive map collection, it was my kind of fetish art. My partner @darktypedreams found two old copies of the fashion magazine Gothic & Lolita Bible, uh, somewhere, we checked like five places and I don't remember which finally had it! And we also visited Aratama Shoten, a store collecting vintage pornography with a gigantic section on old BDSM works that was very much up her alley. It had the porn price premium so we didn't buy anything, but it was delightful to look through works on bondage and non-con from as far back as the 1960's, where honestly the line between "this is just for the fetish" and "this is authentic gender politics" was...sometimes very blurry. No photos of this one for very obvious reasons.

Jimbocho absolutely earned its rep, its an extremely stellar example of how history, culture, and uh land use policy can build something in one place that seems impossible in another operating under a different set of those forces. Definitely one of the highlights of the trip.

#Ash Japan Adventures #Jimbocho #anime culture discourse

[galexystern]

i don't wanna wait my whole life through (to say i'm in love with you) - 18+

pairing; steve harrington/eddie munson/fem!reader aka steddie/fem!reader

rating; E

warnings; fluff, smut (MDNI), pining, fix-it, spitroasting, oral (f & m receiving), fingering (f receiving), face-fucking, p in v sex, established relationship - eddie/reader

word count; 8.8k

desc; You and Eddie start to notice all the things Steve does for you two. Or, alternately, Sometimes things that feel too good to be true are true anyways.

read on ao3 / masterlist

It all started a few months after you, Eddie, Steve, Robin, and Vickie moved in together.

Steve's parents were part of the wave that swept out of Hawkins after everything with Vecna. They'd tried to convince him to go with them, not wanting to leave him in this obviously cursed town, but he'd declined their offer. They almost didn't let him, but he was an adult now and they couldn't force him to do much of anything. Teary eyed, they'd joined the long line of cars inching down the road, itching to get out.

As a gift, they'd left Steve the house. The giant house, with so many empty bedrooms he couldn't hope to fill by himself. So he'd opened it up to the people he cared about most.

By chance, he ended up inviting you and Eddie to live with him first (he made you promise to never tell Robin that fact). It took some convincing, but he managed to puppy-dog-eye his way intothe two of you agreeing to move in. He graciously gave you the master bedroom, something about how it would be awkward to move rooms within his own house and weird to take over the room where his parents had slept. When he'd said that, it'd creeped you out as well, but Eddie persuaded you that you would be able to make it your own, and eventually you wouldn't even think other people had lived in the same space.

Sure enough, over the days and weeks, the whole house transformed. Stuff started filling all the cabinets, drawers, and surfaces until they threatened to overflow. Anywhere you looked, there was something that clued you in on who lived there—Robin's language dictionaries and stacks of pen pal letters from several different countries, Vickie's gardening supplies and magazines, Eddie's sheet music (blank and filled out, he wasn't very good at keeping it organized) and various guitar accessories, your piles and piles of books in every genre available (you liked to hoard them). Sometimes you caught Steve just sorting through it all with a smile on his face; he liked to scold you all for how messy it was, but you could tell he was so unbelievably happy that there was plain old stuff sitting alongside his, almost burying it even. He started to buy more of his own things just to keep up.

And your and Eddie's bedroom changed just as much. You plastered the wall with posters of bands and movies you both loved, dumped your combined clothes in the dresser and closet, placed all the kitschy stuff you owned on every surface available. All the books in the main area were just spillover; they couldn't even come close to how many were strewn across the floor in your room. You bought everything you found and liked in thrift stores (okay, so maybe you were a hoarder in general). Eddie couldn't resist buying any new cat toy for your beloved Sweet Potato (he could say he hated your cat all he wanted but you knew the truth) so they were always under foot. Vickie liked to give you cuttings from her plants, and so those were placed anywhere sunlight reached. You loved candles a little too much, so there were not one but two drawers full of them. There were shells you and Eddie had collected when you'd gone to the beach, VHS tapes of your favorite shows and films, supplies from any hobbies you'd picked up but eventually gave up (it drove Eddie crazy but he couldn't resist buying you things for whatever new hyperfixation you had, he always wanted to get rid of the old things but you wouldn't let him).

And yet, the room was just a little too big for the two of you. The bathroom was enormous—you and Eddie didn't much care for your looks (besides Eddie's hair) and so it felt empty whenever you went in there. You and Eddie couldn't reach the highest shelves and so they remained clear—you two frequently talked about buying a ladder, or asking Steve to put stuff up there since he was the only one who could reach them, but it hadn't happened yet. And the bed...it felt huge, an expanse of sheets and blankets and pillows. You and Eddie could lose each other in it. When you were in bed, even with Sweet Potato, it was like a whole other person could fit beside you, and even be comfortable.

A voice came from the doorway as you pondered that, just finishing up making the bed. "Wow, this room is unrecognizable."

You looked up to see Steve, arms crossed, leaning against the frame. You smiled at him as you fluffed up Eddie's pillow to how he liked it, then flopped on the bed. Following Steve's roving gaze, you looked around the room at all your stuff mixed with Eddie's. It gave you a thrill, every time, remembering that you two actually lived together, on your own, in a house filled with loved ones. Seemed too good to be true.

Turning back to Steve, you teased, "Is that a compliment?"

His eyes snapped back to yours and he narrowed them playfully. "No, I actually hate what you've done with the place."

You clutched your chest in fake hurt, comically dropping your jaw too wide. "You wound me."

Steve laughed, the sound music to your ears, and you couldn't help but grin back at him, breaking the act. "It looks great," he said, genuine this time. "There's no mystery about who lives here."

"You trying to be dick?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.

A faint blush rose to his cheeks. "No. I like it. It's nice knowing you and Eddie are here. Living here. With me."

"Well," you replied, looking away, your own face flushing, "we like it."

You could feel his eyes on you. "Good," he said quietly. Taking a chance, you looked back up and caught his stare. It felt intense. And then he cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "Maybe I should've kept this room." His teasing tone was back. "If you're not careful, I might take it back."

"Oh yeah? I might just dare you to." You smirked.

"Mm, well, I'm not going down without a fight."

"Neither are we."

You and Steve grinned at each other goofily and your heart pounded and his hand clutched at his bicep and then Robin's voice thundered through the house.

"STEVE!"

Said man huffed out a laugh. "Guess that's for me."

You nodded and watched as he gave you one last smile before disappearing from view. You heard his footsteps down the hall, then the stairs, and then you couldn't hear them anymore.

After that encounter, you started noticing.

Like the day Steve came home from grocery shopping, dumping the bags on the kitchen counter while chanting "gotta pee" before quite literally running to the downstairs bathroom. You'd been at the table, engrossed in a book. Your focus broken, you got up and perused the bags, looking for something to snack on. You wanted to be quick—Steve didn't like it when anyone ate too close to a meal, he said it ruined your appetite and Vickie's delicious cooking would go to waste, something you never understood because Eddie inhaled anything in the fridge when he got the munchies and so leftovers were always eaten—but then you found no less than six different bottles of allergy medication. You picked a couple out and examined them.

You heard Steve walk back into the room and looked up at him. "Who're these for?" You asked curiously.

He glanced at the bottle in your hand. "Oh, they're mine."

"What? Why?"

"I'm allergic to cats."

You looked down. Sweet Potato was weaving between his legs, leaving orange hairs all over the bottom of Steve's jeans. He was notorious for how much hair he shed all over the house. You tried to vacuum regularly, but it was impossible to get it all.

Your eyebrows raised so high they probably hit your hairline. "Steve!" You exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Steve shrugged and leaned over to pick up Tato and hold him to his chest. "Because you and Eddie love this pea-brain," he answered. The cat head-butted him affectionately, purring loudly, and Steve scratched under his chin. "I wouldn't have made you get rid of him. Besides, he's grown on me." Tato started making biscuits on his shoulder.

That's when Eddie walked into the room. He saw Steve holding Tato and immediately went over to them. "Hello, you little monster," Eddie said lovingly, petting him. Sweet Potato just soaked up all of their attention. Your heart melted at the sight.

Steve looked up at you. "Can you and Eddie put away the groceries? Since I shopped and paid, it's the least you can do."

You rolled your eyes. "You're the one who can afford it." Steve smirked. "But yes, we'll unpack." Steve nodded and left the room with Tato.

"Why do you rope me into these things?" Eddie whined. You smiled at him and he reflexively smiled back, walking over to give you a kiss.

"Help me now," you replied, "and I'll give you a back rub later. If you're good." Eddie's eyes lit up and he immediately went over to the counter and started taking things out of bags. You shook your head fondly—when you gave him back rubs, things tended to get heated, if you know what I mean���but still stared at the space Steve had been, thinking over what he'd said. Until Eddie called your name and you turned away, joining him in the task.

Or that time when you and Eddie were at work and a sudden thunderstorm broke out in the late afternoon. It shocked the hell out of you both when lightning flashed through the music shop, a crack of thunder following immediately after.

"Oh, man, we didn't bring any umbrellas or coats or anything," you whined to your boyfriend.

He kept sorting through the new records that had come in, setting aside any that looked interesting. He liked to play those on the store's player near closing time, when there weren't any customers and it was just you and him, sitting on the counter and soaking up the sound. If Eddie was feeling particularly romantic, and the record was full of ballads, he liked to dance with you in the aisles, making you feel like the only person in the world.

"You can wear my jacket," he offered.

"But then you wouldn't have anything to wear," you retorted, to which he shrugged. You rolled your eyes, knowing you wouldn't take up that offer. It was super easy for Eddie to get sick, you'd learned, and going into a thunderstorm without a coat would give him a cold almost immediately. Then he'd bring it home and spread it around the house, making everyone miserable. You weren't going to let that happen.

You watched the rain fall through the window when a familiar car pulled into a parking spot out front. You peered outside as the car door opened and someone stepped out and ran to the door. They opened it and in walked...

"Steve!" You called out in surprise and Eddie looked up.

Steve gave a wave, one of his arms full of stuff, stamping his feet on the shop's welcome mat before walking towards you both.

"What are you doing here, man?" Eddie asked, bewildered, records forgotten.

Steve huffed and dumped what he was holding onto the counter in front of you. You looked down and found that it was your and Eddie's rain gear, complete with your coats, boots, and umbrellas.

"Thought you might need these," Steve said. You and Eddie stared at him in awe.

"You brought these here for us?" You asked.

"In a thunderstorm?" Eddie continued.

Steve shrugged, the tips of his ears going pink. "I know you didn't take them this morning, what with the sun shining and everything, and I know how easily this one—" he pointed to Eddie, "—gets sick, and I wasn't doing anything so..." He cleared his throat. "I thought I'd bring them to you. Be a good friend and all."

You just looked at him.

"Well," Steve broke the silence. "I guess I'll go now." He turned away and started back towards the door.

"Wait," Eddie called, and Steve stopped and turned back around. "Do you wanna stay and eat lunch with us? We haven't taken it yet."

"Oh, I didn't bring any food," Steve said, sounding disappointed.

"That's okay," you replied. "I always pack extra since this one—" now you pointed to Eddie, "—likes to steal my food. Maybe he can control himself and you can have it." You raised your eyebrows at your boyfriend, who nodded excitedly. "Yeah! Stay!"

Steve just looked at you.

"Unless you have somewhere you need to be?" You asked. "Do you need to bring Robin and Vickie their stuff too?" You knew they were at work as well and sure to have not grabbed their stuff either.

"Oh," Steve answered, looking sheepish, "I didn't bring theirs. I forgot it."

You and Eddie laughed. "We won't tell them," you promised.

At that, Steve smiled and walked back to the counter. "In that case, sure. I'd love to stay."

While Eddie grabbed your lunches from the back, you stowed your rain gear under the counter and hopped up to sit. Steve leaned next to you, and you could feel the warmth of his arm against your leg. Eddie returned and you three sorted through the food, picking and choosing what each of you wanted to eat. Once that was done, you dug in, talking about what Steve had watched that morning and what records Eddie had chosen to play and what you were reading at the moment. It felt nice, with the rain pounding away outside, matching how your heart felt.

Or the time when you and Eddie had gone to a concert and gotten a flat on the drive home and had to stop at some random gas station. It was practically the middle of the night and there was no one around. Even the gas station store was closed. It was cold and you both shivered as Eddie dug through his pockets for change.

"Here," he said, teeth chattering. He had two quarters, two chances to get a ride home. You took one and called the house, but it just rang a couple of times before the machine picked up.

You hung up the phone with a huff. "No one's home. Steve, Robin, and Vickie are probably still at that party they were going to."

"What are we going to do?" Eddie asked. His tone sounded calm but his word choice revealed his worry. "Who else can we call?"

"Maybe Joyce? I don't—wait!" You ran to the van, opening the door and digging through the glove compartment. "I know it's in here," you muttered as you threw everything in there on the floor. Eddie's messiness and your hoarding were really catching up to you.

Finally, your hand closed around a piece of yellow paper. You pulled it out and quickly examined it. Smiling, you jumped out of the car and ran back to Eddie.

"What's that?" He asked, his hands deep in his pockets.

"Sometimes, Steve's maternal instinct comes in handy," you answered, showing him the list of names and numbers of all of Steve's closest friends. Eddie laughed. "I can't believe we actually have use for that thing."

"Me either," you breathed and grabbed the last quarter. You were so happy you remembered Steve was at Emily's house, otherwise you and Eddie would've been screwed. You dropped in the quarter and dialed the number. You hoped Steve would answer, but you would've been fine with anyone after the third ring.

Eventually, someone picked up. "Hello?" You could barely hear them over the party noise.

"Emily!" You yelled. "It's Y/N!"

"Oh! Hi Y/N!" She shouted back. "What's up?"

"Is Steve there?"

"Yeah! One minute!"

You waited for three seconds.

"Y/N?" Steve's voice came through the phone and you relaxed almost completely. Everything would be okay. Eddie noticed and sighed in relief, leaning against the wall. "What's wrong?"

"We got a flat tire!" You answered. "Can you call us a tow truck or something?"

"No way," he said, and you tensed in confusion. "I'm coming to get you!" You relaxed again but didn't understand. "What?"

"Just hold tight! Where are you?"

You told him you were just off Highway 73 at a gas station. He said he would be right there and hung up.

You and Eddie ran back and got in the van, turning it on so you could have some heat. "At least the battery didn't die," Eddie joked. "Otherwise we would've frozen." You rolled your eyes but didn't say anything, just leaned against his shoulder. You two dozed until someone knocked on the driver's side window.

You both jumped and saw Steve outside. He waved and Eddie rolled down the window. "Come on," he said. "Get in." He pointed over his shoulder at his car.

"What about the van?" You asked.

"We'll get a tow truck in the morning. Let's just get you home and out of the cold," he replied. He waited as you two got out of the van, grabbed anything valuable, and locked it, leading you to his BMW.

Eddie dove into the back and laid across the seats. "It's so warm in here," he slurred, half-asleep already. You and Steve smiled as you buckled into the front. Steve looked both ways before pulling out onto the road. You lay in the passenger seat, head turned to watch Steve as he drove. It was warm and everything smelled like him, a comforting, familiar sensation. Your eyes drooped, following Eddie's lead. Steve kept his hand on the stick shift and you laid yours on top. He looked at you briefly.

"Thank you," you whispered. He smiled softly. His hand flipped upside down and squeezed your fingers, making your heart flutter. Your eyes closed fully.

"Go to sleep," Steve whispered back, and you could've sworn he said "my love" at the end, but you were already gone.

;

"Babe," you started, as you slid under the covers and into bed beside Eddie, trying not to disturb the sleeping Sweet Potato. "Have you noticed anything...odd about Steve recently?"

Your boyfriend turned on his side to face you, a curious expression on his face. "What do you mean?"

You explained about the allergy meds and rain gear and flat tire.

"What do you think it means?" Eddie asked.

You sighed. "I don't know. But it's confusing me."

Eddie hummed, and you watched as he thought. "You know," he said eventually, evenly, "maybe he has a crush on you."

Your breath caught, but shook your head anyway. "It can't just be me. All the things I told you about were for both of us."

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you. "We don't know that he's bisexual."

"Yeah," you conceded. "But he knows we are." Eddie's eyes widened at that and you giggled.

"Now that I think about it," he mused, "he lets you drive his car. He doesn't let anyone else do that."

"Well, he lets your band practice in the garage whenever you want."

A moment of silence.

"He does let me pick whatever we watch when we're together," you continued.

"He lets me play any new record I get, even if he knows he won't like it," Eddie said.

"He always gets my favorite flower when he goes shopping..."

"...and our favorite magazines..."

"...and our favorite candy."

You and Eddie looked at each other and spoke at the same time.

"Holy shit."

;

It felt like a dream. It actually was a dream, kind of the dream for you and Eddie both. You'd determined that a few months ago, before you'd moved in with Steve, back when you were living with Eddie in his trailer.

It was just pillow talk, uncommonly intimate pillow talk. It was raining outside and the trailer felt warm and cozy and you and Eddie were in sex's afterglow, tangled up in each other. It started innocently enough, but then you started discussing exes and old lovers. You'd been a goody two shoes in high school, never getting into trouble, never doing much of anything. Unfortunately, that meant you didn't get much action, and Eddie was your first (and probably last) serious boyfriend. He wasn't your first though, and so you told him about how you'd lost your virginity to some nice, bland kid at summer camp—the same summer you had your first kiss with a girl. Eddie had whistled and said something about how for someone who didn't do anything, you sure did at lot in those three months. You'd hit him but blushed as well.

Eddie had talked about Tanya, the girl he'd dated throughout freshman and sophomore year, before she'd moved away. He'd been devastated, thought she'd been the one and everything, but long distance didn't work and he'd eventually lost touch with her. It'd hurt for a long time, and still hurt if he was being honest, but he said you were better than she ever was. You rolled your eyes but you couldn't stop a smile from playing on your lips.

Then he'd asked, "Do you have a crush on anyone?" You looked away quickly and he noticed. "You do," he said. You could hear the smirk on his face. "Who is it?"

"No one," you insisted, not wanting to say and hurt his feelings.

It was like he could read your mind, he always could. "You can tell me, I won't mind."

You looked up at him. "Are you sure?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die," he answered, complete with the motion of an x across the left side of his chest. You smiled softly at the gesture. "Go ahead, princess."

"Well..." You started softly. "I've always had a crush on Steve."

Eddie's eyes just about bugged out of his head. "Steve? Our Steve? The Hair?"

"Don't say it like that!" You shoved him lightly. "You've seen how he's changed after graduating. Everyone had a crush on him before, who wouldn't have a crush on him now?"

"Me," Eddie scoffed, but you could see him bite the inside of his cheek—the tell-tale sign he was lying.

You gasped. "You liar!"

"No!" He exclaimed, trying to save face.

"Yes!" You were excited now. "You have a crush on him too! Oh my god!"

He shoved his face into his pillow and groaned. "No I don't!" You heard him say, his voice muffled.

You leaned in close to his ear. "You can't hide from me," you said lowly, teasing him. "I know all of your secrets. And now I know this one too, the juiciest one by far."

"It's not that big a deal" came from the pillow.

You leaned back. "It's not." Eddie lifted his head and looked at you with an eyebrow raised. "You're just as hopeless as I am."

He sighed loudly and flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "He's just so pretty," he whined, lovesickness finally coming out.

"He is." You mirrored his position, grabbing his hand and holding it tight. "Sexy, too."

"Yeah...and funny and caring and beautiful and thoughtful and smart..."

"You sound like you're down bad more than me." You giggled.

"Well then, babe, you should catch up."

"Oh, I will."

"Good," Eddie said, sounding tired. He leaned over to give you a hug and kiss before rolling away.

You pouted. "Why don't you ever hold me at night?"

"Angel, I love you, but you're like a million degrees when you sleep. You make me feel like I'm going to melt into a puddle."

"I bet Steve would cuddle me."

Eddie chucked into the dark. "I bet he would."

You huffed.

;

You laid on the couch, head on Eddie's lap and feet on Steve's. Credits rolled across the TV screen, throwing the room into near darkness. Red flared above you as Eddie took a hit, passing the remnants of a joint to you. You took a drag and inhaled. Steve's hand lightly caressed your leg as he brought it to yours, plucking the joint from your fingers. You exhaled shakily and Eddie rubbed the back of your neck as his hands brushed through your hair. He knew.

It'd been a few weeks since your and Eddie's conversation regarding Steve's behavior, and since then, you couldn't stop seeing all the things Steve did for you both. Reading the books you raved about, listening as Eddie's band practiced and giving praise, buying little things he thought you two would like. You and Eddie tried to return the favor: you took pictures of the three of you together with the camera you'd picked up during your photography phase, visited him at work whenever the two of you were off to cheer him up, brought him home cassettes of his favorite musicians as soon as they came in. For his birthday, Eddie wrote him a cute little jingle and you gave him a collage of all the pictures you'd taken together; he loved and cherished them both. But nothing felt like enough—not enough to show him how much you two cared for him. Nothing short of telling him felt like enough, but you were scared. It felt too good to be true.

"Steve," Eddie said, breaking you out of your reverie. The man at your feet hummed. "Why didn't you leave with your parents? Why did you stay in Hawkins?"

A minute of silence passed.

Eventually, Steve answered, voice scratchy from not using it in a few hours, "It's complicated. Part of me wanted to go. I love my parents, but I never got to see them. They always worked too much. It felt lonely, when I was a kid. I thought maybe this was my chance to really spend time with them." He sighed. "But that wasn't real. They were going to continue working hard even after moving. I would've been alone again—actually alone, without all of you."

You made a sympathetic sound and he squeezed your feet in gratitude.

"And..." He continued. "And it just felt wrong to leave everyone. I don't think it would've felt right to live anywhere but Hawkins. Cursed as it is." He chuckled softly. "You know what I mean?"

"Mhm." Eddie answered for the both of you.

"This is where I belong. With you."

You knew he was talking about everyone, the kids and adults and other teenagers, but it really felt, in that moment, like he was talking about the three of you. You, Eddie, and Steve, saying you belonged together. You felt the same, deep down in your bones.

"Steve," you said suddenly, propping yourself up on your elbows. "I—"

He turned his head to you, leaning against the back of the couch, the moonlight shining through the windows to highlight his face, with its sharp jaw and high cheekbones and strong nose. His eyes sparkled and his hair glowed and a soft smile spread across his mouth and your words died in your throat. He was too beautiful, too kind, too loving for you. You didn't deserve him.

If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

"Um," you managed. Eddie rubbed your neck again, giving you strength. "We would've missed you. If you'd left."

"I would've missed you too," he whispered, still smiling at you, giving you butterflies.

You laid back down and looked at Eddie desperately. He nodded and said, "Well, I better get this one upstairs," patting your hip. At that, you pulled your legs from Steve's lap, missing his warmth already. "Scoot up," Eddie murmured to you and you did as he asked. Once you were in a better position, he placed his arms under your knees and back, lifting you as he stood up from the couch.

"Damn, Munson," Steve said, sounding impressed.

Eddie turned you both around and he winked at Steve, making you giggle. Steve also laughed, staying seated as Eddie carried you upstairs to your room. He laid you on the bed gently. "Are you okay?" He asked softly.

You nodded but didn't say anything.

"You know I love you, right?"

You smiled. "How much?"

"Oh," Eddie drew out as he sat on the bed next to you. You climbed into his lap and straddled him. "More than the number of stars in the sky. More than the amount of water in the oceans. More than the number of trees there ever have been or will be."

Love for him pooled in your stomach. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he answered simply. You kissed him, deeply, passionately. You wanted to forget you couldn't have Steve. You wanted to remember that you would always have Eddie.

Like always, he read your mind and pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and letting his hands rest on your ass. He ran his tongue along your lower lip and you opened for him. He gently moved your hips, making you grind against him, and you moaned at the hardness beneath you. His mouth left yours and ran hot kisses down your jaw and neck, stopping at your pulse point to suck deeply. You groaned again at the sensation, pressing harder against his crotch.

"Eddie," you panted. "Need you."

His teeth nipped at your skin when you said his name and you whimpered, his tongue soothing the hurt. His hands moved to the hem of your shirt and you leaned back so he could pull it up over your head. He moved towards you again, and his lips explored the newly exposed skin like it was the first time. He always made you feel so precious, like you were a wonder he couldn't believe he got to touch. You placed your hands on his face and pulled it up to yours, kissing him deeply again. He grunted, smashing your chests together in an effort to get closer to you. You gasped lightly as his shirt rubbed against your breasts, creating friction and making your nipples stand at attention.

He leaned back and pulled his own shirt off, throwing it somewhere behind you. Your fingers caressed the open skin, feeling the line between his abs, the happy trail leading into his jeans. Going lower, past the waistband, to the bulge that was growing as you kissed. You rubbed the heel of your hand against it and he broke away to groan into your neck, the sound going straight to your cunt.

Eddie suddenly flipped you so you were lying underneath him, head against the pillows. He trailed his lips down your neck to your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking. You gasped, hands going to his hair and pulling him closer. He swirled his tongue around, a hand coming up to tweak the other one and make your back arch. "Good girl," he muttered against your skin and you whimpered at the praise. "Don't worry, baby. I'm going to make you feel good."

He continued down your torso, sucking bruising marks here and there, making sure they would stick around for a while. Finally, he reached your waist, and he pulled down your pants and underwear in one go. You sucked in a breath as the cold night air hit you, goosebumps popping up. But it was quickly replaced with Eddie's warmth, as he ran wet kisses down your thighs and licked a long stripe up your slit.

"Fuck," you moaned, thrusting your hips up. Encouragement enough for Eddie to dive back in and devour you.

That's when the door creaked.

You looked up and said breathlessly, "Steve."

He stood in the doorway, your jacket in his hand. His mouth was open but he didn't move, watching where Eddie's head was buried between your thighs. At your voice, he ripped his gaze away to meet yours, and your breath caught at his dark eyes and hungry expression.

Eddie lifted his head. "Did you just call me 'Steve'?" But when he realized where you were looking, he sat up, turned, and saw Steve as well. He must've recognized the same look on his face as you did, because neither of you moved. In fact, Eddie brought up his fingers to drag through the slick wet of your pussy, making you gasp. Steve swallowed at the sound.

"Hi there, pretty boy," Eddie said, and Steve looked at him. "What a nice surprise."

"I—" His voice was strangled. "I just wanted to give this back."

"How chivalrous of you," Eddie replied, somehow sounding calm and wrecked at the same time. The hand not lazily sliding between your legs grabbed your ankle, and that was your only warning before he pressed his middle finger into you. You arched back at the sensation, still staring at Steve, who looked down at Eddie's finger pushing in and out of you slowly. "You know Steve, this angel right here has never been wetter than she is right now."

"Oh?" Steve said faintly. The squelch of Eddie's finger moving sounded louder than ever.

"Yeah," Eddie drew out. "I think maybe it has something to do with you?" On "you", he added another finger and you moaned loudly at the stretch. His rings felt cold against your hot skin, and it just heightened the tension in the air between you, Eddie, and Steve. "What do you think?"

"Fuck," Steve breathed out.

"How about you, princess?" Eddie turned his attention to you and you could see the wicked glint in his eye. "Who do you think is making you so wet?"

He hit inside you particularly hard and you cried, "Steve."

Eddie looked back at Steve triumphantly. "See, pretty boy? All you. Now, rather than me just telling you, would you like to come over and feel it?"

Steve nodded dazedly, stumbling forward and closing the door behind him. He walked to the bed unsteadily as you and Eddie watched him. Once he got close enough, Eddie removed his fingers from you. You whimpered at the emptiness, clenching around nothing, but Eddie leaned forward and pressed his fingers into your open mouth. "Suck, beautiful," he murmured and you followed orders. Eddie and Steve both groaned at the sight and your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure.

You felt someone shift and opened them to find Eddie now sitting beside you and Steve perched between your open thighs. You locked eyes with him as he shakily reached out a finger and gently swept it through your slick. His eyes widened at the sensation and he said, "Wow."

"Go ahead, pretty boy," Eddie said, his hand coming up and massaging your breast. "Give it a taste."

Steve kept your gaze as he slowly leaned forward and very lightly touched the tip of his tongue against your clit. You both moaned at the feeling, Steve's eyes rolling back up into his head as he pressed closer and pushed his mouth into your pussy. You let out sounds like you were falling apart, feeling like you were, as Steve's tongue explored your folds, never stopping, like he didn't want to stop. Like he wanted to map you down to the millimeter.

"You make such pretty sounds, sweetheart," Eddie said, and you wrenched your gaze from Steve to him. "Doesn't she, Stevie?"

You felt Steve nod against you, pushing impossibly closer. He was settling now, moving his tongue down so it could press inside you, and your body shivered. He did that a few times before running it back up, nosing your clit teasingly. "Tastes so good," he groaned, and you and Eddie both responded with your own whines. "Like honey."

"She's our sweet girl," Eddie managed to say, though his voice was barely there.

"Eddie," you whimpered out. He knew what saying "our" would do to you.

But then Steve pushed two fingers inside you while lazily sucking at your clit, and you cried his name out with pleasure. Your hips moved of their own accord, thrusting down to meet Steve's hand, like it was a dance you two knew how to do without ever trying before. Eddie's free hand moved and rubbed his hard cock through his jeans, slowly but forcefully. You didn't want him to feel left out, so you lifted a hand to tangle in his hair and turn his head towards you. "Kiss me," you pleaded in a whisper.

Eddie wasted no time, falling into you and your mouth, tongues immediately clashing. Your noses and teeth and jaws bumped together, feeling violent, as you chased your climax on Steve's mouth and fingers. "Do you wanna cum?" Eddie asked into your mouth and you nodded against him frantically.

He leaned away and you whined pitifully. "What do you think, Steve?" Eddie sounded absolutely breathless. "Should we let our good girl here cum?"

As an answer, Steve revved up his motions and worked overtime, making you wail wantonly into the dark. It only took another minute of Steve's ministrations and Eddie's kisses and then you were over the cliff, free-falling into your climax. Your body jerked as Steve slowed but didn't stop, extending your pleasure, making sure it lasted as long as possible. At some point, you moaned in overstimulation and Steve finally stopped, letting you collapse on the bed and try to get your breathing back. He sat up and put one of his wet fingers in his mouth, and you watched as he sucked it clean, closing his eyes at the delicious taste. If you could've moaned, you would've.

Then Steve opened his eyes and trained them on Eddie, who swallowed slowly. "Here," Steve said simply, and held out his other wet finger to your boyfriend.

They didn't break eye contact as Eddie crawled down the bed to Steve, wrapping his lips around the offering. He sucked eagerly, groaning at the taste, and Steve's eyes darkened in response. And you watched it all happen with half-lidded eyes, already feeling desire pool again within you.

Steve gently pulled his finger away, and Eddie followed it, not wanting to let it go. But then Steve leaned down and pressed his lips against Eddie's. It must've felt good, because then they tried to swallow each other whole, hands coming up to grip waists, shoulders, hair, before they found their spots: Steve's on the back of Eddie's neck and Eddie's on Steve's lower back. They pulled at each other endlessly.

You whimpered at the beautiful sight, and that broke them apart, giving all their attention to you. You shivered under their combined stares, knowing they weren't close to being done.

You were proven correct when you saw the wicked glint that had been in Eddie's eye now shining in Steve's. "Don't worry, my love," your breath hitched at the pet name, "we haven't forgotten about you. Right, baby?" By the end of the question, Steve was looking back at Eddie, who was hanging on by a thread after hearing "baby" fall out of Steve's lips and directed at him. He nodded with a whimper. Steve smirked, knowing he had the upper hand now, and moved his hand to Eddie's hair. He tugged lightly, but Eddie's head fell back like he'd been pushed. "Good."

At that point, you'd gotten some of your strength back, so you sat up and grabbed the hem of Steve's shirt. "Stevie," you whined. He looked down at you with an eyebrow raised and adoration in his gaze. "My turn."

"Your turn for what, beautiful?"

You seemed to shiver anytime Steve addressed you by a pet name, and this time was no different. "To kiss you."

Steve nodded and leaned down, still holding onto Eddie's hair and moving the free hand to cup your cheek. When he was a hair's breadth away, he whispered so the words would fall across your lips, "I've been wanting to do this for so long."

You melted and combusted at the same time. "Me too," you replied, and surged up to meet him. He moaned against your lips as they pressed against his. They were soft and sweet and a perfect fit. You never wanted to stop. All you wanted to do for the rest of your life was kiss Steve and Eddie, one after the other, again and again, that was it. You slid your hands under his shirt and lightly brushed across the skin and muscle. In response, he flicked his tongue across your bottom lip and you opened your mouth to him. His tongue pushed in and started to map your mouth like it had your pussy. You could taste the sweetness he'd loved so much and you dove it to chase it further.

Eventually, Steve broke away. You were all panting, eye contact electric between you. Steve took a breath and asked, "How is everyone?" Ever the most caring boy in the world.

"Good," you replied breathlessly.

"I'm great," Eddie answered eagerly and you shot him a look.

Steve laughed quietly. "It's not a competition."

"But I'm winning, clearly."

Before you could shoot a sarcastic comment in his direction, Steve pulled Eddie's hair so his head went back and his neck was exposed. "Oh?" The dark look was back in his eye. "Is that so? What do you think, angel?"

You hummed, watching as Eddie's stare bounced between you and Steve, desperation growing in his expression, hand going to palm his crotch. "I don't know if he's winning per-say...but I think he's been a good boy for us. Haven't you, my love?" Eddie nodded as much as he could with Steve holding his head back. "Yes, such a good boy, letting Stevie eat me out and letting me cum. Don't you think he deserves a reward?"

You gave Steve your best puppy dog eyes and he sighed shakily at the sight. "Now that you mention it," he replied, voice a tiny bit strangled, "he has been a good boy. I think it's time we give him some relief." You nodded at him. "And since I already got to experience your pretty pussy tonight, I think it's only fair Eddie does too. How does that sound?" He grabbed your chin and pushed your head back to mirror Eddie's. "Would you like our good boy here to fuck you? Make you cum again?" Eddie whimpered at the use of "our" just like you had, and you nodded at Steve desperately.

"Yes, please," you breathed out and Steve smiled sweetly. He kissed you and Eddie before letting go and moving so Eddie could take his spot. He was about to leave the bed when you grabbed his hand. He looked at you and you tugged him towards the top of the bed, motioning for him to sit behind you. "I'm a good girl, remember?" You asked, teasing gently. You turned so you were on all fours, ass high up in the air towards Eddie, who squeezed it hard. That made you arch your back and you gave Steve a coy but knowing look. "Let me be your good girl."

Both Eddie and Steve rushed to get rid of their pants and underwear while you waited patiently, looking over your shoulder at them. Within seconds they were back on the bed, at either end of you. The three of you together—it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Eddie pressed two fingers into you and you keened at the feeling. He leaned down and kissed up your spine to soothe as you got used to the stretch once more. Steve slid in and sat in front of you, cock red and hard and already leaking. You dropped your head and used the tip of your tongue to lap up the white bead of pre-cum. You heard Steve's head hit the headboard along with a loud groan, and so you did it again—this time adding a swirl of your tongue around the head of his cock.

"Fuck," he swore, the sound seemingly echoing throughout the large room, making you wetter. Eddie took the opportunity and added a third finger to the two that were fucking you nice and slow and deep. You moaned around Steve's cock, halfway into your mouth, and the vibration made him jerk his hips up and push it in all the way. You gagged at the sudden pressure in your throat, but he was quick to bring his hips back down. "Sorry, angel," he whispered.

You swallowed the spit that'd gathered in your mouth. "S'fine." Looking up at Steve with doe eyes, you continued, "I can do it."

He smiled softly and kissed your forehead. "I know you can. You're going to take both of our cocks so well, baby. Right?"

You whined and nodded, bringing your head down again and taking Steve all the way into your mouth. "Oh my god," he groaned out.

"No gods here," Eddie smirked, fingers speeding up and curling to hit just the right place inside of you to make you cry out around Steve's cock. "Just a good girl who's about to create the most beautiful spit-roast imaginable." He removed his fingers and before you could whine about the loss, you felt the head of his cock press against your cunt. He dragged it through your slit, hitting your clit now and then, enough to make you whimper but nothing else.

Then he slowly pushed his cock inside you, letting you adjust as he moved inch by inch. "So tight," he praised. "Always so tight for my cock. Such a good girl."

You shuddered at the praise and being filled up. Steve spread his hands in your hair to help move your head so you could keep sucking him off. When Eddie bottomed out and you could feel the press of his hips against your ass, he stopped and just reveled in the feeling.

"You're so beautiful," Steve said as if in awe. "You're both so beautiful." You knew he and Eddie must be staring at each other as they both fucked you and you moaned at the thought. You pushed back a little on Eddie, giving him permission to move. He gradually pulled out and then pushed back in hard and fast. You choked around Steve's cock but didn't stop sucking his cock.

"Look at you, taking us both so well," Eddie cooed in a strained voice. His hips quickened, making Steve speed up your head movement. You were just between them, letting them use you for their own pleasure, and you'd never felt more perfect in your life.

Steve panted hard. "M'gonna cum," he managed, and you wrapped your lips tighter around him and sucked harder. "Oh, fuck, baby." You took him all the way, deep into your throat, and swallowed around him. He jerked and you quickly retreated so you wouldn't gag. His cum shot into your mouth and you did your best to swallow it all, some of it leaking down your chin. Steve slowed and eventually stopped your motion, extending his orgasm as much as he could, and then lifted your head so it was level with his. "That was amazing."

You smiled and used a finger to wipe the cum from your cheek and into your mouth, sucking on the digit while staring at him. He already looked wrecked and that was just the icing on the cake.

And then a hand, adorned with big silver rings, wrapped itself around your throat and pulled you back.

Your back came flush with Eddie's chest and you cried out from the change in position. His cock was hitting deeper now, and rubbing that specific little spot over and over again.

"Hi, princess." Eddie's voice was right next to your ear. "Having fun?"

You nodded.

"Ah ah ah, I wanna hear you say it. Let Steve and I hear everything," Eddie directed and then bit down on your pulse point.

"Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, yes," you cried. "Feels so good."

Eddie's wicked chuckle tickled your neck. "It does? Well, I think pretty boy here can help you feel even better."

Next thing you knew, Steve was kneeling right in front of you, hands pressing into your waist. He looked exhausted but there was still a hungry look in his eyes. Then he moved his hands up and grabbed at your tits, rolling the nipples in his fingers harshly. You dropped your head onto Eddie's shoulder, keening, feeling like you could explode.

"Look at us, angel," Steve said gently, and you turned your head so you could see them. They leaned into each other and kissed wildly. Both sets of their hands tightened on you and you whimpered. Your orgasm was on the horizon; it was a tsunami and headed towards you fast. Steve took one hand and dragged it through Eddie's hair, pulling him even closer. You felt his lips on your neck, here and there, and you knew he was marking up both you and Eddie, marking you as his. You leaned your head to the opposite side so he would have more space to create his art.

His other hand slowly slid down and then two fingers started rubbing fast circles on your clit. "Oh, god!" You shouted.

Steve leaned away, and Eddie retightened his grip and focused on drilling his cock into you, harder and faster and deeper. "That's it, baby," he said. "Cum for us."

You lifted your head and locked eyes with Steve. He nodded, a half-smirk on his face, and that was it. The tsunami hit and wiped everything out.

"Holy shit!" Eddie groaned as you clenched hard around him. You let out whines as he kept fucking you and Steve kept rubbing your clit, prolonging your pleasure to the maximum limit. Three, four, five hits later and Eddie was cumming too, his hips stuttering but still thrusting as he rode out the high.

At some point, he slowed to a stop and pulled out. You collapsed forward and Steve caught you, moving you so you could lay on the bed. He set you down gently and pressed kisses to your face. Eddie flopped down next to you and did the same as Steve. You giggled tiredly.

You were in heaven.

Then Steve was getting up and walking into the en-suite bathroom. You heard water running and then stop and Steve reappeared, carrying a warm wet towel. He gently cleaned you and Eddie up, then himself, then tossed it into the dirty laundry hamper. He was about to lay back down when there came a meow from outside the door. Steve walked over and opened it, and Sweet Potato emerged from the hallway. He rubbed against Steve's leg before jumping onto the bed, curling up in his regular spot, and falling asleep.

All three of you laughed quietly. Steve closed the door and returned to the bed. He climbed in and laid between you and Sweet Potato, with Eddie on the other side of you. You pulled up the comforter and got cozy.

"I don't know if this actually needs to be asked now," Eddie said, sounding worn out, "but I'm gonna do it anyway. Steve, would you like to date me and Y/N? The both of us, together?"

You looked at Steve and smiled. "'Cause we wanna date you," you finished.

It was pretty dark in the room, but you thought you saw a tear or two shining in his eyes. "I would love to date you, both of you, together."

Eddie sighed. "Thank god."

"I thought there weren't any gods here?" Steve teased.

"Oh, shut up."

You and Steve laughed. You looked up at the ceiling, feeling like you were on cloud 9. "This feels too good to be true."

"Well, it's true," Steve said.

"Finally," Eddie sighed. You felt both of their eyes on you. It gave you indescribable joy to know they were looking at you, and each other, the same way you and Eddie would. Like they were the most important person in the world. Like you couldn't live without them. Like they were the key to your happiness, and you to theirs.

You gave each of them a kiss and then turned on your side towards Eddie. Steve shifted behind you, and you felt his body pressed up against you from behind. His arm snaked around your waist and held on tight. "Is this okay?" He asked.

"Ha!" You yelled, startling both boys and the cat. They all stared at you and you looked back at Eddie triumphantly. "I told you Steve would cuddle me!"

Eddie laughed. He gave you a kiss and said, "You sure did, babe."

You all settled down again, and you covered Steve's arm with your own to keep him against you. "What was that?" He asked, sounding more confused than ever.

You giggled. "I'll tell you in the morning. Promise."

#steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #mine

[copperbadge]

I had a very successful and entertaining day today, as you guys can probably tell from the posts I made. There's a few more queued posts of stuff I didn't get to post in-situ, so enjoy that!

Some anecdotes I did not post about from today:

-- I can't remember the last time I queued for a museum. Mostly because if it's not one of "my" museums, like the Field or the Art Institute where I know the best ways in, I'm attending on a weekday deliberately so that I am not amongst the crowds. The line to get into the British Museum was a full block long, but to be fair it only took me ten minutes from opening to get inside. I was mostly amused by the people who a) didn't understand how museum entry works or b) didn't understand how to stand in a line without also blocking foot traffic on the rest of the sidewalk.

-- Almost got in a fight with someone, a definite first for me in a museum. I got salty with a guy who touched a sculpture when he knew he shouldn't, and he got up in my face, and I think genuinely the fact that I knew what the sculpture was called and he didn't confused him so badly he backed down. So if you're looking to defuse a situation via confusion, the phrase "Hey, don't fucking touch the Lamassu and we won't have a problem" worked for me.

-- The British Museum is great but among other issues (looted objects, weird relics of museum-specific imperialism, etc) it does suffer from poor display design in places. I'm okay with that, I kind of like old museums that are a little fucked up, even as I acknowledge that old fucked-up museums also have old fucked-up messaging. They appear to be trying on that front, but they could use a display placard overhaul. At one point I found an object in a case that appeared to be a carved human leg bone, and while I'm not a Bone Specialist there was also absolutely no placard about the bone at all. (I looked it up in the collection later using other objects in the case as reference, and it's just noted as "bone".)

-- I did have a great time overall; I saw most of the museum and then had a fancy meal, as documented. I was especially pleased to get to sample their coronation chicken since I collect tastings of coronation chicken, and I think they either used molasses in it or the bread had some, and either way it's grist for my mill as I start to develop The Chicken Salad War. After lunch I went on the hunt for a few last things, but I could feel myself getting tired and Becoming Unmedicated so I decided to leave a little early, which was the right choice, and gave me a little time to do some exploring.

-- @neil-gaiman did a post a while ago about stuff to see in London which I saved, and while I mostly planned my own journey, I did stop at Atlantis Books on his recommendation, which was well worth it. The woman working the till left me alone until I was ready to buy my book, then praised my choice (always a good move) and made a few minutes' small talk about my visit from America while she was ringing me up. Also I have never seen such a variety of Tarot decks for sale in my life. It was extremely impressive given the entire shop is roughly the size of my bedroom in Chicago.

All in all an excellent day out in London. Tomorrow I'm traveling to meet up with a friend, so probably fewer photos, but day after tomorrow I'm bound for Amsterdam so expect Rijksmuseum photos! I did not get into the Vermeer exhibit sadly, but I still want to see the museum and I'm on a quest for freshly made stroopwaffels and authentic gjetost, so I'm excited for the journey. I thought this trip might be one small anxiety after another -- would I be okay on the plane, would I get on the right trains, etc -- but I'm feeling more confident now, and I think between my early-bird tendencies and the ADHD meds I kicked the jet lag pretty quickly. I'm off to bed in a few, because tomorrow is an early day, so I guess we'll find out then how much I really kicked it....

#sam travels #the cheese tour #british museum

[slocumjoe]

Love your work, really encapsulates the various companions.

Love to see how the companions should react to a companion who either collects a bunch of prewar stuff or just gives them a bunch of little goofy gifts all the time.

Romanced or not, either is fine I think this works well for all of the companions.

(because some of us show effection like crows and give our friends and loved ones little stupid things that make us think of them.)

This was one of the first requests I got, which means it's been a while, so thank you for your patience 💕

Anyway more of my X6-88 is a grumpy, prickly little asshole propaganda

Companions and an Old World antiques collector/magpie person

Cait; always owned only what she could have on her person, so someone who just...has shit, seemingly because they found it shiny, is alien. Even more so once they start trying to share. That's when she freaked out. People don't give Cait shit unless they're looking for something in exchange. If ever convinced that no, this is a present with no strings attached, Cait is even more weirded out. Over time, will come to understand that this, like, a peace offering thing. Oh, alright, it's like cats bringing you mice. Got it. Might start returning the favor, so long as they're okay with small-scale stuff she can easily find.

Codsworth; Panic. Feels an obligation to take very good care of whatever they give him. Will make meticulous spaces for the gifts. Ends up basically playing Barbie with it all. Puts it on pillows, always dusts them, carefully arranges them in ways that he thinks would make the items happiest. Gets nervous if other people even look at their trinkets, or the gifts they've given him. It doesn't help that everything is an antique.

Curie; One of the companions who's doing the same thing. She's curious, she wants to see all there is of the world. Sometimes that means hoarding little baubles. Loves round and shiny things. Their collecting doesn't faze her, nor does the gifting; it's how many things they find. Curie has trinkets, but they...they have a treasure trove. Where are they finding this stuff? Legally, she hopes?

Danse; Doesn't mean to, but ends up treating them as, like...a bloodhound for historical items. Go, boy, go find a pre-historic flipphone from the 2000s! Danse himself is a tip-tappy puppy when bygone technology is involved. Getting presents though...different story. Unless it's tech, something for him to use, he's uncomfortable. Not extremely, like in any other situation where someone expresses affection towards him, but enough he recoils and blinks the first time.

Deacon; Whatever they give him is now a prop for the one-man comedy show that is Deacon Railroadagent. A magnifying glass, and he becomes Nick for awhile. A newspaper, he's complaining about election results and how the taxes are gonna go up. A stuffed animal—Oi, 'e's jus'a l'i'le stree' urch'n, mista, spar'a gohl' coin fah suppah? How could you enable him like this. How could you.

Gage; If you're not pawning it, why bother? Gage thinks like Cait, less is better, easier, not a waste of time and space. Sure, sometimes they scrap shit for parts, but not always. Sometimes they just put it around, decor or whatever. If given anything, 98% chance he is turning around and selling it. If he likes them, will slip it into their bag or personal living space. If very close, he'll keep the damn thing, just...don't ask where it is. Somewhere? Wherever it is, he didn't make caps off it. That's good enough, right...?

Hancock; Will keep precise inventory of their collections and point out if they do or don't have something, when they stumble on a potential new item. Has a surprisingly good idea for authenticity, the goods, as it were. You will never get swindled, buying an antique with Hancock. Sixth sense. It's weird. Why do you know what this one baseball pitcher's favored pen for autographs was? Keeps every present he's ever been given, will make a separate pile for the stuff they give him.

MacCready; Soul. Mates. Always trading shit. Always going off on their own for a certain item they know the other would love, only to run into each other at the exact same item. If they share a home, the only thing keeping it from being a thriftstore is the stickers. Mac is a magpie. He's a collector. He likes having things. Used to satisfy this interest with Hancock as a bro's night, but now. It's like watching penguins throw the same shiny rock at each other over and over.

Nick; doesn't mean to, but flirts hard-core. Got a thing for antiques, huh? You know vintage finery when you see it, don't you? Those hands of yours really know how to handle Old World treasures, don't they? Nick. Nick. Please. He doesn't notice. Will need to be told, hey, you sound really horny. Horrified. He's made those jokes to every mechanic that gave him a tune-up. People who had their hands inside him. This includes Danse.

Piper; Just let her read the newspapers they find, and she's a happy camper. Also not a collector kind of person, but a present is a present. Honestly, though, also on the side of "just sell it." Unless it's historically important, especially sentimental, or useful, the extra caps would be more practical. She's never going to say that, hell no, and she'll find them little trinkets to add to their collection, but internally, wonders if it's a coping mechanism or something.

Preston; Is uncapable of having things after Quincy, always paranoid about needing to be on the move again. Feels lingering dread around magpie types, now, privately considers them Chekov's Gun. Now, Preston understands this mostly irrational and pushes it down whenever he gets a little twitchy about it. Will even enjoy talking about their collection, especially if there's historical shit. But there's always a tiny little goblin voice whispering "this poor bastard"

X6-88; Why are you hoarding garbage? Are you making your own scrap yard? Wait, this is all to keep? All of it? Oh. So, why are you hoarding garbage? Just to have? So it is a scrap yard. It's a neverending cascade of increasingly judgemental questioning. Like when children get curious and are unintentionally Satan's Water Torture. Will try to aid them in their collection by giving them things he thinks they'd like, but is...literal garbage. Gets magnificently indignant if they decline. TRASH IS TRASH. WHATS WRONG WITH THIS TRASH?!

This situation would have even the most incompassionate Institute scientists consider that synths could be people with free will. Because they sure as shit didn't make him like this.

#fo4 #fallout 4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #piper wright #nick valentine #x6-88 #companions react #robert joseph maccready #porter gage #codsworth

[archiveikemen]

『 The Past Records 』 Collection Event: Chapter 3

Jude Jazza & Ellis Twilight

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

Roger: Whatever I know?

Harrison: Or should I say, why didn't you tell us from the start that you knew the two of them since before they joined Crown?

Roger: Because no one asked.

Harrison: YOU…

Roger: Besides, it’s not as if I’m close friends with them.

Roger: I can’t say for certain whether they’re trustworthy or not.

Harrison: … Say, what kind of relationship did you have with them?

Roger: We’re just doctor and patient. Jude has a history of weak bronchi in his lungs.

Roger: My old man’s pretty good, so Jude occasionally went to his clinic for checkups.

Roger: When he was still his patient, we only knew each other by face…

Roger: There was one night where he came in for a knife stab wound. Instead of to my old man's clinic, he came to me.

Harrison: … Elaborate on the stabbing?

Roger: All I know is that he got stabbed out of spite.

– Flashback Start –

Jude: I got myself into this. Don’t ask any questions, I’m not answering any.

Roger: Oh really? Geez, you came to me instead of my old man just because you don’t want the news of your injury to be known to the public?

Jude: Don’t you want a lab rat to practise your medical skills on?

Jude: You can go ahead without a licence.

Jude: In return for that, you'll be quiet about treating me so that your father’s clinic’s reputation won’t be tarnished.

Roger: That benefits both of us. Sounds good to me.

Ellis: … Can you treat him, Roger?

Roger: Yeah, don’t worry about it. He’s a valuable test subject, I won’t let him die so easily.

Ellis: That’s good to hear. It’d be troublesome if he were to die now.

Roger: That’s some way to say it. Then when is a good time for him to die?

Ellis: At the happiest moment of his life… I guess?

Roger: Heh. Keep coming in with wounds like this one, and that moment will just get farther and farther away from him.

Jude: Tch, you stuck the needle in the wrong spot, you quack!

– Flashback End –

Harrison: … You were treating him before you became a licensed medical practitioner?

Roger: Haha. It’s way past the legal timeframe to prosecute me now.

Harrison: What else do you know?

Roger: Ah? Let me think… Jude’s an early bird, and Ellis can eat absolutely anything. That sort of information?

Harrison: Not that.

Roger: Jude can keep up with my drinking pace, but Ellis easily gets drunk.

Harrison: Not that either… I’m getting too much unnecessary profile information of two people stuffed into my head.

Roger: … I already mentioned earlier about their level of trustworthiness.

Roger: The two of them are hiding some things from me too. I heard that they’re involved in some sort of very expensive research project.

Roger: Well, even though their level of trustworthiness is still uncertain, I believe they wouldn't involve themselves in foolish matters.

Roger: Was that helpful?

Harrison: … More or less. At least you didn’t lie in any of the information you gave.

Roger: You’re welcome.

…

Liam: Found you!

Harrison: Mm, … Oh, it’s you. How did you know I’m here?

Liam: Will told me. You’re doing your proofreading work at a cafe?

Harrison: The stuff about the reports flood my mind when I’m at the castle, I need to catch a break from them.

Liam: Ahaha, so I’ll make you think about them again if I give you my report now?

Harrison: It’s fine. I was losing my focus anyway… and you intentionally chose this moment to approach me, didn't you?

Harrison: So, what is it?

Liam: Don’t mind if I do. Hmm, I’ll start with the information I got from Jude~

Liam: Did you know? Jude was enrolled into a public school! He got in through the recommendation of a doctor. Or was it a scholar?

Liam: Surprising, right? Being surrounded by so many children from aristocratic backgrounds must've been tough for him… I wish I could see that for myself.

Liam: Next up is what I heard from Ellis. He said that he didn’t go to school.

Liam: His father was a teacher at a church, but they’ve been separated for a long time.

Liam: … Ah, Ellis and I made plans to go ice skating by the lake too.

Harrison: Oh, that's good information. … How did you manage to talk to them? You’ve been out of the castle for the last two days.

Liam: I made myself invisible and tailed them, observed their every move and usual routes for a few days, then made sure that we'd meet “coincidentally”.

Harrison: … You went that far?

Liam: I just thought it’d make you happy. Also, it’s cat instinct to be curious, so my curiosity simply got the better of me.

Liam: I tailed them and spoke to them directly, but I still think it’s hard for me to say “I can trust them!” confidently.

Liam: I feel like… there’s something missing that's preventing me from making a solid decision.

Harrison: … That face. You’re up to something.

Liam: As expected from my partner in crime! You’re so quick to catch on.

Liam: Shall I put the two through a little test?

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil collection event #ellis twilight #jude jazza

[olderthannetfic]

One time I was on a discord server, I was in my early 20s (I'm still in my 20s tbf), server for the collecting of a certain item type. Some random drama happened with a user claiming to be abused at home, we tried to help. Girl got kicked because people got too sus about it.

Anyway, because I had been involved speaking to her, one of the mods contacted me in the DMs. Told me about the situation, and I was kinda shocked, so I asked a few extra questions. Call them Mod15

Well another mod then contacted me, and told me that Mod15 was talking shit about me, for asking the questions about the situation, and that Mod15 IS 15!!! I had no idea. That mod was really mad at Mod15 because 1) she didn't like that a mod was just 15 years old. 2) the mod had basically bought themselves into the role by buying the server nitro. 3) the admin didn't do anything/incredibly passive. Let's call that mod: ModP

I showed ModP the conversation with Mod15, and showed her that my talk with him was pretty basic bitch. But man did I fucking feel disgusted by this. I never contacted Mod15, he contacted ME. I deleted my entire talk with him. It was basically just "What happened? Is everyone ok? Do you know if she's ok." that stuff.

Side info: When I joined I also asked if they'd have a NSFW channel, just "because" it kinda was the norm to have one if the hobby had a lot of adults, even if it wouldn't contain anything sexually explicit. So it was made, but there was very little happening all things considered.

Well skip forward a few weeks. We had a vent channel, and Idk how it started. (I still have the screenshots from start to finish somewhere on another discord with a friend, but I'd need to look for them.)

But for some reason we started talking about how minors, who're minors entering the 18+ channel should be kicked from the server. The admin only made the NSFW channel "click to confirm" instead of role based, which is something that was discussed later between him and the mods I was told my ModP later. (Or another Mod I got to know.)

And guess whoms't but Mod15 would freak the fuck out and start an entire thing about it. He said we couldn't demand this blah blah. One argument he had was shit like "Well we see things like these on twitter, so why care if we see it here." and like, because this is a closed space. A lot of that kinda logic, that it wasn't a problem finding 18+ content anywhere on the web, and we shouldn't bitch about it.

Hell even some other minor and a lot of adults said that this was not a good point to make, and that these warnings and channels aren't made to "just keep minors safe", but to keep adults safe as well. And that adults have a right to want spaces where minors can't and won't enter. Anyway, this went on for far too long. I mean I think this thing went on for a few hours. Mod15 also freaked out when someone suggested making it role only.

Mod15 admitted to having entered the NSFW channel, which wasn't the great point he was trying to make, and one of the other adults admitted to having shared some bodypillow designs with Mod15. Which also wasn't a particular flex you'd make tbh.

ModP contacted me in that time, and another Mod, ModT, and they were actually annoyed that the Admin refused to do anything, and still wanted to keep Mod15. They had apparently also tried to make some specific roles before, but Admin just didn't wanna do it. You know, roles that give you identifiers such as "minor, male, female, adult" or pronouns etc.

They asked me if I could talk to Admin, and I did try, but Admin was so fucking passive, he said "Well, the problem was that you had asked about the NSFW channel." Not the fact that a minor decided that this was a free invitation to enter, or that the minor decided he had the random right to contact me about something, and then bitch about me to the other mods. That's when I decided I couldn't deal with this and left, if he couldn't even see how annoying it had gotten. At that point the collection discord had also grown considerably in size, because it got the "official (collectors) server" on reddit as well, and I didn't wanna stick around for the shitshow.

Extra info: The server did have an "introduction" channel, but it didn't have roles to give identifiers. And as probably anyone on a slightly bigger server would know, you start muting a lot of channels quickly. Admin tried to blame me for not checking the channel, in his DMs to me, when at that time there were constantly people joining and I had like half the channels muted to begin with.

--

15-year-olds make terrible mods.

[scaryspears]

My rant on ITSV and ATSV

So I've just finished watching the ITSV and ATSV because I'm a late watcher, and when the movies came out I wasn't myself. I'm glad I took the time to watch them, although I had to buy ATSV online because it's no longer in the cinema. This means I got to watch my favourite scenes without issue. With that being said, I have a lot of things to get off my chest regarding both films, mostly with the characters. 

Warning: Long post and slight bashing of characters and terrible screenshots.

I don't want to be one of those people who hate Gwen just to hate on her, and I don't hate or dislike her character, but right from the jump her vibe was just off. She felt like one of those characters that disliked the main character for no reason despite barely interacting with her/him (them). I know that isn't the case but I didn't like the way she was blankly talking to him. I'm using the word 'blankly' because I can't think of another word other than 'coldly'.

During the chase scene where Miles and Peter steal the computer, she comes out of nowhere and helps save the day. I was glad but at the same time what the hell. Anyways, Miles compliments her haircut and she snaps with "You don't get to like my haircut.", referring to when he accidentally got his hand stuck to her hair and she had to get half her hair shaved off, I understand getting angry about that. It was an accident, and Miles could've apologised (I don't remember him saying sorry), but she's acting like he did it on purpose.

To top it all off she knew he was like her, which meant she knew what he was going through as he was transitioning. Getting taller, hearing multiple voices, hands sticky, and all that stuff. So that means she's aware that it was an accident, and there's also the fact that she pretended to be a student at his school and hovered around him. She bumped into him on purpose knowing he was a fellow spider.

When you think about it, why didn't she try to get to know him and investigate with him about what's going on? She just left him to discover his spider side chaotically. She should know how scary and confusing that is, but not once does she attempt helping him out. 

I'm gonna sweep it under the rug because they are teenagers, and even if they were adults they shouldn't be expected to be more sympathetic to each other. But you'd think she'd be a little bit more understanding. (Don't get me started on her going into his artwork and opening his collectable in ATSV)

Now, Uncle Aaron. I love his dynamic with Miles, the true cool uncle. His love for his generation of hip hop and us seeing Miles' taste of music. The graffiti art bonding, loved it. There were small hints that he was the Prowler. The 1610 Peter getting killed near where Miles and Aaron did the graffiti, Miles calling him while he's being chased by the Prowler, and the Prowler appearing in Aaron's home. I'm thinking "Where's Aaron in all this?" dun dun dun, he's the Prowler. I loved every bit of it. This also makes Miles different from other spider men, being the fact that his loved one ended up being an antagonist, and one scarier than Kingpin. There's no "With great power comes great responsibility." instead it's "In a bad person you can find good in them." Also, the inner torment that he was about to harm his own nephew is chef's kiss. Uncle Ben who?

Moving on to ATSV. It opens up with Gwen and her meeting Miguel and Jess. She looked at Jess and said "Will you adopt me?" Like??? Where yo mum at? I know she passed away, but still. You've only had one look at this woman and that's one of the things that comes out of your mouth? You don't know this woman! Jess sounds like one of those women that only talk with attitude no matter what so I had a hard time rocking with her, like what is her problem??? And she's fighting while pregnant... smdh.

Spot. Funny villain, I liked his banter with Miles, but he's a pu**y punk bi**h. He's blaming Miles for what he became, when he's the one that decided to become a mad scientist and work with other mad scientists under Kingpin. I'm pretty sure there's more to it than a bagel. Lesson is: once you become a mad scientist something happens to you. Norman Osborn became Green Goblin, 65 Peter (Gwen's home) became a monster and died, Shang Tsung got Rick Rolled by himself, you get the idea. Spot made himself like that not Miles.

So Gwen didn't talk to Miles for a really long time because of the whole Spider society thing. When you think about it, none of the other spiders he met did, and I get that they couldn't with the exclusion of Peni. But not one visit? Not one letter? Something??? Now Miles has a little short conversation with Hobie and admits that he only wants to get into the Spider society to talk to his friends and help out with defeating Spot. He just wants to hang with his friends, but Peni and Gwen decided not to do that.

Moving on, I'd like to talk about Miles' walk through within the spider society. They acknowledge Gwen and only Gwen, they don't bother saying hi or even looking at Miles. It was like Miles wasn't even there. Never thought I'd say it, but these Spider men are arse holes. I also got annoyed at the way Jess was talking to him, I get that he's not supposed to be there but she needed to chill.

This anger went when Miles bumped into Margo, and she looked like she was about to lose her cool but she lightened up once she saw who it was, a complete stranger. I'm not a MargoMiles shipper, but I don't mind it (granted so long as they are the same age).

So the scene that goes 0 to 100 quick: I watched a bunch of memes and edits that painted Miguel as racist and I didn't understand why, and thought it was like a Millie Bobby Brown situation. Re-watching the scene where Miles meets Miguel I can see why.

All the other spidermen showed up to gang up on Miles.

"You can't ask me not to save my father."

"I'm not asking."

And hit him with this.

While Miles is freaking out at the sudden imprisonment we can hear Miguel say "We just need to hold him a few days." They were treating Miles like a criminal and/or a confused wild animal. And then Miguel had the nerve to say "All he had to do was listen." when Miles escaped them. I don't think Miguel is racist, but the memes I will support.

Hobie was looking out for Miles as soon as he met him, and I love that so much. He knew Miles wasn't like the ones in the spider society, and made sure to tell Miles to be better. Gwen didn't do that. She did, but she didn't if you know what I mean. She followed along with the crap Miguel was spitting.

And then there was the chase scene. Bro had a bunch of spider men chase Miles and not one of them could catch him. That is the biggest L I've ever seen. One 15 year old boy, and he didn't use his other 2 powers until after Miguel slammed him onto his back. Miles was not playing. Also, Miguel was endangering the lives of people who were driving. And yes, Miguel's at fault and not Miles.

They gave Miles crap just because he didn't want his dad to die, unlike Miguel who actively replaced the life of his other self. Gwen was really going to let her dad die, and Peter B tried to justify it by saying their uncle's death made them who they are. Pavitr was just supposed to get over his love interest's dad dying? They knowingly let that happen.

Miguel calling Miles an anomaly is mega projecting. Miles becoming Spiderman wasn't on purpose it just happened, and that's always how the story goes. No one is simply meant to be Spiderman, they just become him/her. It's also funny coming from a man who crawled on all fours chasing down a teenager.

42 Miles. Prowler Miles. Gonzales. Kilo Immorales. I love him already, can't wait to see the next film where we'll see him in full action. I love how we as a fandom collectively agreed that these two would have a sibling dynamic even though we've only seen 42 Miles for like a minute. I love the Boondocks comparisons as well. I need 42 Miles to hate everyone. I need Miles to be full of rage in the 3rd film Adult Gon style. Prepare for double and make it double.

In conclusion, I should've watched these films when they first came out, they are so great. The art, the incorporation of hip hop and correctness of Afro related backgrounds and the storyline. I honestly felt like Miles was a great representation of the new generation. I saw myself in him, and not just being black but the graffiti and finding out that a family member of yours isn't really a good person. I don't do graffiti or art but I do find them beautiful whenever I see them. Also, the Air Forces. Step aside Peter Parker, we have a Spider man with more drip.

#spiderverse #miles morales #spiderman atsv #atsv hobie #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #42 miles morales #aaron davis #the prowler #gwen stacy #spider gwen #ghost spider #pavitr prabhakar #peter b parker #sunflower #spider punk #itsv #atsv

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

A test of faith- Lee Sa-ra x reader drabble

TW: mentions of homophobia/conversion therapy, coercion, mentions of illegal substances, generally a fucked up fic. MINORS DNI PLEASE

Serving God was not on top of your bingo card for this year. But through a long process you were here. Religion was a bit of a taboo in your family. Your grandparents were religious. Your parents, not so much. But the tables turned when they caught you sleeping with another woman. So, off to "curing" you, you were "sick". And the only place that could "help" you was the church. It took a few years, but you were "fixed". Bullshit. Conversion camp just made you a lot sneakier when it came to hooking up with girls. Sadly, it also made you miss a lot of high-school and college. So when you came out of there, you could not land a job. There was no way to explain the gap in your resume. Yeah, my parents sent me away for being too gay wasn't really a catch for employers. So you had to go back and work for the church. You could be a counselor for the camp. Fuck that. You weren't about to scare some poor teenagers straight. So the only other option was working for the church. Cleaning, organizing events, even working behind the counter and collecting the entrance fee, you'd do it all. Though unfortunately the only way you could get a job was by asking in person.

You were terrible at interviews. Generally you were a shy person and you had trouble speaking up. So when it was time to "sell yourself" to employers, you were screwed. You wiped your sweaty palms against your skirt. It wasn't going to be that hard. 30 minutes to 45, in and out, talking about redemption, devotion, just wanting to help out.

They called you in, but instead of a small room with a desk and chairs, they led you into a pretty bare room. Before you could question anything, the door behind you was slammed and locked. And on the other side of the room, you could see the same happening to someone else. Then that person stepped forward and holy shit, it was Lee Sa-ra. The famous abstract painter, who just happened to be the daughter of the church leaders. But what was she doing here? And why were you both alone in a room? Actually, you looked around and saw that there was a bulky man keeping guard at the door. Why would you escape? Just as you thought that, a voice carried over the speakers. It said your name, followed by ''I guess you are very confused, sister. You see, you came here for a job. And we admire that. But you must know that guide lost souls back to the righteous path. But have you earned redemption? Or are you still a sinner? Can you resist temptation? and then cut out. Another message began, this time for Sa-ra. ''Sa-ra, you need redemption too. Though your sin is different. You were always more like Lilith, rather than Eve. So, use that. Earn your forgiveness by condemning others. ''

Then it got quiet. You and Sa-ra looked at each other. ''So, they obviously want us to turn on each other. But I have no benefit to sabotage you. You wanna join the church and press people, giving them the fear of God? Be my fucking guest. Judging from what I heard, you've been through some messed up shit too. So if this is your calling, go ahead. I tell you what, even standing here in your presence made me holly. So, we're free to go.'' she said. Sa-ra stared straight at our guard. He just sighed, cleared his throat, and pulled a large bag of white powder from seemingly nowhere.

''Nice try. I can buy flour too, jackass.'' Sa-ra said.

The guard once again didn't say anything, just went over to you. He dragged you by the hair and forced you to sit as he grabbed his key. He spread the white powder over it and pressed your face near it. Still, you refused to inhale. He squeezed your throat until you gasped for breath and the white powder was in your nose. He did that a few more times and carried you back to Sa-ra.

''Watch her and then tell me if it's the real stuff'' he said. Sa-ra placed her hand on your pulse point and waited for some time. She could feel your heartbeat skyrocket, watching you shiver, and repeatedly bounce your leg up and down.

But what tipped her off was your nosebleed. ''Holy shit'' Sara said. ''You gave her actual coke. ''she continued in disbelief. She knew that her parents and overall the church would never be okay with this, yet here she was on holy grounds, taking care of you, a complete stranger. So that led her to believe that this was some very fucked up revenge plan or blackmail of some sort. Or was it a test of faith?

And here you were, on a job interview, being high as a kite. But the strangeness was far from over. Because the real fun was just now getting started. The voice over the speakers began again. But this time it was different. No longer cryptic and confusing. It was clear as a bell. ''Sa-ra, you want drugs. And the other one here wants a job. But only one of you can make it out of here with your wish intact. There's a certain sin that you have both committed. Timothy 1:10.''

Sa-ra stared at you for an explanation. ''We're both gay. It's one of the 6 mentions of homosexuality in the Bible. Those have been drilled into me since conversion camp.''

''So, we've both been with some women, big deal. But how does that tie in with what we have to do to get out of here?'' Sa-ra asked. Silently you wondered that too. How could you trick her to be more gay than you? How would that be measured? Your brain replayed the previous instructions to you. It had been urging her to tempt you, so did they mean seduce you. So maybe the first one to make a move would lose. Or win. It was a dangerous gamble, but you decided to try it. You leaned it and pressed your lips to Sa-ra's. And it felt good. To your surprise, she kissed back.

Maybe it was because you were under the influence. Maybe it was because she had been your celebrity crush for some time. But you could work with this. You let her deepen the kiss and even let out a soft moan. You were already getting a bit drunk on this. You hoped that this was enough. At this point, you didn't even care about losing the job. You just wanted to go home. You finally thought you were free, as you heard the voice over the speakers again. ''I see both little lambs are on the right track. But what is a mere kiss? Did Judas not kiss Jesus? We want more. And we want it now. So I'll put it plainly for you. Whoever makes the other cum wins.''

You were shocked. But then you looked around the room. The security guard was gone. And Sa-ra was stripping. She was like an angel, you thought. Then it dawned on you how fucked up this whole thing was. Why was she going along with this so easily? Were drugs so important to her that she was willing to sacrifice her dignity like this? But then you had heard the rumors. Her stunts in Paris, with reporters calling her a whore, who sleeps on the streets. Her many dating rumors. There was the scandal of her being a sugar mommy for this college girl while using the church money. You weren't one for gossip anyway.

''Throwing in the towel,'' she asked. Then she kissed you again. You knew that you would be screwed if you also didn't do anything. So you just went with it, hoping to do some damage as well. Both of you slowly went to the floor, kissing each other. There were bits where you almost wrestled. You knew if you took control of her, maybe you could win even though dominance wasn't always your thing. But apparently, you weren't the only one with that idea. And Sa-ra somehow had more experience than you. She easily pinned you down and started taking off your clothes. Your button-down was off. Your skirt was halfway down your legs. It would help if you hated this. You should use every muscle in your body to try to escape her. Or even better turn the tables and get a shot at winning this thing. But instead, you just pulled your panties to the side. Fuck it, you were losing, but at least you'd get a nut out of it. Sa-ra spread your legs and started rubbing your clit. ''You're already so wet. At least you're gonna make this easy for me,'' she said.

You noticed a camera in the corner of the room. Shit, was it even on. And was it broadcasting this online? You were completely exposed. So you decided you weren't going down without a fight, no pun intended. First, you leaned into Sa-ra's touch, making her think you were on her side. Then, you say ''Sara unnie, you know I feel so good. But I never come from fingers. They just make me feel full and satisfied, but it's never enough. Can you please lick me? ''

She probably questioned this, as she could feel how close you were, how your walls were drawing her fingers in, and how tightly your pussy was gripping her. But she said nothing, just obliged your request. Guess altruism wasn't dead. Either that or she was a really good dom top. And apparently, this wasn't the only thing she was good at. Lee Sa-ra could retire and eat pussy for a living. You were about to show her that you weren't lacking in that department either. Or should we say, eater? As she was getting more and more into it, she let down her guard more. And you decided to strike. While her face was still buried deep in your cunt, you buried yours in hers. Thank God for Sa-ra's love for dresses. You felt bad about ripping her designer clothes. But you were not walking out of this room without a fight. At least this way you wouldn't be a sore loser. You moved her underwear to the side and began eating her out. Shit, she was wet, possibly even wetter than you. Was this whole thing turning her on? You selfishly wished that this whole thing didn't happen and the two of you met in a normal way. If that were the case, mutual orgasms would be a given.

69 wasn't your favorite position. Or at least it hadn't been until now. Your bodies were pressed closely together, so with every move your tits were rubbing against Sa-ra's and hers against yours. Not only that, but every moan she let out was a vibration on your clit. Fuck, you could get used to this. You could feel yourself getting ready to cum, but Sa-ra was also close. So you kept your tongue on her clit and slipped a finger inside of her. And that was all she needed to finish. At the exact same second that you did.

At least this was over. There was no winner, no loser. Until you heard the voice on the speakers announce. ''Round 1, Draw. Please prepare for a tiebreaker.''

#the glory #the glory x reader #Lee sa-ra #sara lee #Lee Sara x reader

[idolish7imagines]

can i request tamaki with a reader who’s a trigger fan and some new limited edition trigger merch comes out and reader is determined to get the whole collection and drags tamaki along (we’re running the trigger new merch drop like the army telling him what to get when we get there how were gonna split the store up etc etc) (cute and fluffy and hes supportive and tries his hardest but also maybe some jealously hehehe)

Yotsuba Tamaki x Reader :: Merch Sweep

A/N: these drabbles are getting longer and longer so if yall read it all i love you

He's pouting and you haven't the faintest clue why. Again.

"Tama, what's with that face? Perk up! We're almost at the store and we have to be on our toes as soon as we get in there." You explain, nudging his shoulder as the two of you walked through the sidewalks and streets bustling with life already even though it was fairly early.

"I hate waking up this earlyy.." He rubs his eyes, there were clearly still crust and tiredness in them since he barely got up despite you shaking him so much to the point you nearly considered body slamming him.

"I'm still sorry but we've been planning this for almost a week so its not like you didn't have time to mentally prepare yourself." Letting out a sigh, you wrap your arm around his lest he think about wandering off to go buy king pudding or something else of interest.

A gasp escapes you, seeing there was already a line wrapped around the corner of devoted TRIGGER fans waiting to get their hands on a limited edition signed CD at a vendor that was outside.

You grunt, but still have a look of determination, counting the amount of people in line in comparison to how many CDs they said they were going to sell on social media a few days ago.

Tamaki just stares. "Couldn't you have gotten So-chan to do this instead.."

"Sogo needs his rest he's got a lot of work this afternoon."

"But he wakes up earlier than I do anyway!" Tamaki retorts, lifting his hands in the air before you shush him.

After a moment of tapping your foot and thinking throughly, you turn to him. "So you remember the plan right? We can come back to this line later when its calmed down, maybe in about 6 to 7 minutes. But other than that its likely gonna go down how I predicted. So I'll take the stores on the left and you take the ones a little farther down on the right. I know you'd hate waiting in line so I'm gonna come back here while you keep shopping, and when thats done we're meeting in the food court."

'Food court' is probably the most reassuring thing Tamaki has heard all morning.

"kaaay." He lazily drapes his arms behind his neck. By now he knows its pretty useless to complain, and that you are gonna turn into a whole animal if he doesn't get all the stuff you want.

-----------

Tamaki understands that you and Sogo are entitled to your opinions. What he doesn't understand is that sometimes you treat TRIGGER like a bigger deal than IDOLiSH7, he's working hard too you know?

Thinking over this for a while has left him with a pout, hand on his cheek while dipping a fry in some ketchup after you bought him food as reward for putting up with your demands.

You on the other hand, was deeply satifisied with the amazing haul you had gotten from both you and his splitting up to buy all your new TRIGGER CDs and merch. Looking over everything, from Tshirts to perfume, a content sigh escapes you, paired with a giddy smile.

"Thank you Tama, you're the best!" You jovially compliment.

He mumbles in response, shoving another fry in his mouth.

"Oh come on, you can't still be mad about being sleepy, are you?"

Another grumble. "(Y/N)-chan doesnt get it at all.." The teen mutters.

You lean in, a sign to inquire on what he meant.

"I don't hate shopping with you, but you always talk about TRIGGER." His cheeks puff a little. "Why not talk about I7 or King Pudding?"

You pause for a moment, blinking a few times in the silence.

Deep down you know what this is about; he wants some praise. And well, you figure you might as well give it to him.

His turquoise eyes widen, suddenly feeling the weight of your hand on his head.

"You're a good boy, Tama." You ruffle his hair. "You're a talented dancer, singer, and a goof, and I love spending time with you."

Tamaki's lip slightly pokes out, not entirely an embarrassed pout, but he does take your hand off of his head.

"Its weird to pet my head when you're shorter than me." He says like an objective fact rather than to put you down. Despite that, he's still holding your hand.

"Okay, I'll stand up while you're sitting down and then i'll be taller." A grin spread across your face.

"Ehh? It doesnt work like that! If you do that I'll stand up too and still be taller!" He says as if its becoming some sort of competition.

You shush him a little so no attention is drawn towards your way.

"No seriously, I really do appreciate you Tamaki. I don't know if it means much from me, but IDOLiSH7 is a great group and you're part of why it is."

The idol seems calmer, smiling at you.

"TRIGGER is good too, but we'll have to pass Tenn Tenn, Gakkun and Ryu-aniki one day."

"Shshsh not while I'm still in hardcore fan mode for them." You shush him again but for your own personal reason.

He gives an offended exclaim. "But you just said-"

Before he could finish, you burst out into laughter, covering your mouth with your hand, but it was hardly masking anything.

Tamaki pouts, but your laugh always had the ability to make him join in, so he did.

#idolish7 #idolish7 x reader #ainana #idolish seven #i7 #yotsuba tamaki x reader #yotsuba tamaki

[teabreakpancakes]

GENSHIN SAGAU Headcanons

hopping on because @mirology explained lmao, why HCs only? too lazy to write rn, ill do it tmrw or some other day, this is the old SAGAU btw, not the one wherein they're the creator n shi

Genre: Fluff

the characters become concerned with how much space the game is taking up so nahida ends up tampering with the code so you have more storage

rlly appreciates the fact that you still do your commissions and farm despite it being 1am alr, especially since you have school/work

you have more crystalflies than usual, not that you notice, but diluc collects the ones at dawn winery for you, albedo collects the ones he comes across in dragonspine and in general, they all just, collect the crystalflies they see

they argue about who deserves the good weapons lmao: beidou subtly flaunts her feats when the claymore users talk abt it, diluc acts like he's done with em but he also acts like he's most deserving of it, eula is indifferent but when they try taking hers, she gets defensive, you gave it to her, why do they get a say in it?. Meanwhile, itto is ranting abt how he obviously deserves it, chongyun is just silent but he does want the weapon too, dori is rich enough to buy anything, xinyan wants it too and sayu is just, tired why claymore? i love claymore

they're concerned abt your health, have you seen how tired you look? they wanna be able to take care of you irl :(

they send their letters even if you don't manage to log in, it's okay, they understand but don't leave them for too long

if you're rlly busy, you still try your best to play, they really love that

you always win the 50/50 or get them and a standard five star character

somehow, your mains rarely come home tho, esp(especially) if they're a four star. like, you've got the others c6 but they're still like, below c3, they're rlly sorry but they can't tamper with their drop rate like the five stars can :( chongyun main here : chongyun was so frustrated with himself when he didn't come home with shenhe to you, he didn't come home, not even once

eventually, when they found out how to watch you from outside the app, they took advantage of that: they save you from rlly awkward situations by playing your ringtone hehe, they're also capable of calling the police if you're in a shit situation

they like to remind you abt stuff you have in your to-do list

the harbingers, including the fatui and tsaritsa, were a bit.. eh with you, at least, until they heard you talk abt them, you wanted to pull for them?? meet them in game?? YOU WERE EXCITED FOR THEM?? HUH? wow, they felt shocked and maybe a bit flustered,, just a bit

man, they rlly wanna taste the food you have in your world, esp xiangling, the food looked rlly nice okay? oh and if you're bad at cooking, ei relates dw, even benny is astounded by how bad it is tbh

zhongli is embarrassed to hear you rant abt how often he talks when he's idle, childe actually teases him abt it no, we won't talk abt how people ship em, they're actually a bit.. eh abt that, like cmon, haven't people heard abt platonic relationship?

benny actually feels really upset when you get bad drops or artifacts and he's in the team, tho the others depending on who they are reassure him that the drops are even more bad occasionally even without him

okay, even without you having that five star, you've got their sig dish, like wha-

you like their clothing? man, they wish they could give you some of their clothes, they'll try their best to bring you into teyvat, besides, your world is shit anyways-

okay so, for context, i copied zhongli's red eyeliner thing and modified it to suit me if you copy their makeup look and you like it, they feel so flattered, they're so smug abt it too ahdajkdbkf

if you cosplay one of them, they're gonna B R A G, i mean bro, cosplaying takes so much effort okay

#lawless.writes #genshin.writing #genshin x gn reader #genshin scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin sagau #old genshin sagau #self aware genshin

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

looking back, my experience in this fandom was mostly based on shipping jikook, reading conspiracy theory blogs, and mostly watching their moments, all of that was first for me, and BTS as a whole was secondary. I could say that jikook always kept me in this fandom, and I was waiting for concerts or other content with their "moments". I think that bts' popularity is partly based on the shipping community, just the fact that I knew bts members from wattpad fanfics long long before I joined the fandom

Yeah, that's something that just happens in kpop. 70% of the kpop experience is the content that's not related to music. There are so many groups that would sell only a couple of thousands albums if they were as inactive as Jimin... but I wholeheartedly believe that they sell that much because of their "close relationship" to fans.

The more time passes, the more of these groups exist. I genuinely can't believe anyone listens to stray kidz or NCT and enjoys it😭 but that's another topic. I'm sorry if anyone reading is a fan, but I just can't. They don't really perform well on charts, but still loyal fans will buy millions of their albums just to "support" them, and collect pretty pictures. It's not really about the music, and almost everything is about the fans liking the idols as people or entertainers, more than musicians.

Part of BTS popularity is definitely thanks to ships, and to the "ot7" agenda. The same as it is for literally every other kpop group on earth. After BTS blew up after winning their first bbma social award, they doubled down on the "we're a family we're so close" stuff. I'm not saying it was fake, but it was also a tool. The way two famous people dating will mean pr moves for both of them in spite of how genuine their love might be, BTS started putting their relationship as a group on the forefront of what being BTS meant, and it was also a pr move.

Bighit made a survey for fans in late 2017.

It was a study market but most of the questions weren't about music. There were a couple that were something like "what do you like about BTS" and relationship between members was one of the options.

I don't know if you were around, but here's a link where you can see the questions, since I can't find screenshots of the survey itself.

A moment that stuck with me was in 2018 when news said that Jungkook had bought his own apartment. Before that, there had been news about Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok and Taehyung buying their own places. Silence from the company. But when JK bought trimage, bighit immediately issued an statement denying it. Even though Jungkook did have his own place there 😭 but him being the youngest was sort of the glue that was supposed to keep the family together. Half of BTS lore is how Jungkook was raised by all the other six members. He couldn't possibly be independent.

A lot of that obviously goes under the radar because BTS music is actually good, or at least they had some outstanding stuff.

The 2020 - 2022 period was particularly "worse" in that sense... All there was to be enjoy was ships, and the members interactions or their "relationship" with fans. The music was bad, no tour, no performances in general, and the behind the scenes content was lacking too. The whole "we didn't want to do solo songs we wanted to sing all together 🫶" they pulled for their last concerts.. it was all about the same narrative of "being together". The LA and Las Vegas concerts were a whole other level of fanservice.

[levbolton]

Blue Period Chapter 64

Scans and Rough Translation

Disclaimer: I DO NOT consent to using this translation for scanlation! I am not fluent in Japanese, I use Google Lens and Deepl/Google Translate to translate this, so sometimes stuff can be faulty or unclear. Besides, Impromptu Scanlations do their best with their scanlations. There's a simulpub, but kodansha decided they should keep it to US only and most of us do not live in US (and those that do don't share the translation bruh)

I am translating it this way because no one keeps up with the story and it feels lonely to be the only one reading it. You can obviously take bits form here to discuss, but do not use it for scanlation without my consent. If I see any I will immediately stop translating and you’ll get back to square 1

Scans are here

Translation 64

P1 : Title

You, send.

The blue continues. (Great start I don’t really know what it is supposed to mean)

君を、送る。

青は続く。

Art reference: Un enterrement à Ornans by Gustave Courbet

P2

Kanie: I'm here to collect all of Machiko Sanada's pieces.

Murai: Ha? What?

Murai: I didn't hear anything about that.

Murai: What? What? has the Kanie Gallery finally started doing things this way?

Kanie: ?

P3

Kanie: Listen... are you available?

Kanie: Well, you seem angry, don't you?

Kanie: You know...

Card: Machiko Sanada exhibition. ~ The genius girl painter who became a real deal/an angel.

Kanie: You can come, but don't get violent.

Kanie: Of course, I've already got permission from all the relatives.

Kanie: No wonder you don't know.

P4

Kanie: You're just friends, aren't you?

Hachiro: When did you decide?

Hachiro: When I talked to Sanada-san's mother last week...

Kanie: Let's see, the day before yesterday, or the day before that?

Kanie: Three years ago... The exhibition she was planning on doing before she died went bye-bye. I was about to give up on it, but...

Kanie: But then Machiko's paintings became a hot topic on SNS.

Phone screen: The artist died when she was 18. God takes geniuses with him.

Sound effect: I see.

P5

“Machiko's paintings...”

"They love her so much..."

Murai: ... What? SNS...

But her mother...

“She wouldn't want it to be like this”

“She wants you to be with someone who cares about you.”

(she probably meant she wanted people to care when she was alive)

P6

Yakumo: You're a miser!

Hachiro: Yakumo!

Yakumo: All he cares about is making money!

Yakumo: Are you happy that Sanada's dead and the sale price went up? Yeah?

Yakumo: Fucking hijacker!

P7

Kanie: After ten years, most of the paintings are worth two or three thousand dollars.

Kanie: Idiot.

Kanie: You guys must think you're doing something great, don't you?

Kanie: When you die, you get a fixed number of works for the rest of your life, so the relative value of your work goes up.

P8

Kanie: There are only a handful of artists like that.

Kanie: In fact, they almost always go down.

Kanie: There are artists who get recognition after they're dead.

Kanie: But there are artists who were very successful during their lifetime, have their prices dropping.

Kanie: Artistic value is determined over a period of 50 years.

Kanie: But 50 years...

Kanie: In other words, it's difficult to find a place that will value your work for 50 years.

Kanie: It takes a lot of space and money to store a painting.

Kanie: Even if it's a good painting for the person who buys it, it doesn't mean that the family who inherits it will share its value.

Words: Trend, Humidity, Sunlight, Location

P9

Kanie: incidentally

Kanie: Machiko Sanada's paintings didn't change in price between her life and death.

Guy in the background: President.

Kanie: It's okay, I've got the permit.

Kanie: Our job is to make the work worth the most and deliver it to the people who cherish it.

 Yakumo.

Kanie: Put your feelings aside.

Kanie: Are you going to turn mellow wine into vinegar?

P10

Yakumo: …

Kanie: good grief

Kanie: Galleries don't bring in any money.

Kanie: Fucking kids.

Momo: We’ll be late

Shall we go?

P11

Hachiro: ... Yes ... Yes ...

Hachiro: No, what mother decides is best.

Sound: Bleep.

P12

Yakumo: Maybe if we were a family (as in married I think?)

Yakumo: I'd have the right to tell him.

Momo: But we're friends.

Yakumo: But... But...

Box1: We're friends.

Box2: I feel so powerless.

P13

Hachiro: I see... Sales...

Hachiro: Yakumo will miss her paintings.

Hachiro: ...but I wonder if it will force him to get back on her feet.

Hachiro: Yakumo didn't even come to Machiko's funeral.

Yotasuke: What?

Hachiro: When someone you love dies, it means that one part of your daily routines disappears...

We're here.

Register: Those who have applied to the AOJ, please fill in this form and proceed.

P14

Yatora: Surprisingly ordinary warehouse...

Hachiro: There are no regulations on the size of the works, so this is probably all that's needed.

Yatora: Wow...

Yatora: I'm getting nervous now.

Hachiro: What's going on now?

Yatora: I've seen other works and I start to feel it...

P15

Yatora: So this is where I'm being delivered.

Yatora: Come to think of it, Hacchan seems to have finished early.

Yatora: What kind of...

Yatora: !

Yatora: An abstract painting? It looks like he put a brush on a cleaning robot and moved it...

But I don't have the image of Hacchan as a painter, so maybe the cleaning robot did it for real...

…!

Yatora: Yakumo-san...

P16-17 double spread

P18

Yatora: That…

Yatora: I knew right away.

P19

Yatora: It is a floral service.

Secretary:  Okay, we'll be judging in a week's time.

Secretary: We'll be streaming it on TUBE, so please do watch it, and we'll be in touch with the winners shortly afterwards.

P20

Hachiro: Uh-oh.

Hachiro: Mr. Kanie cleaned up the whole place...

Yotasuke: He left something...

Momo: It's a postcard for Machiko's exhibition! They're having a reception party.

Yatora: What's that?

Momo: A party for the people involved in the exhibition, right?

Momo-yota-yatora: The date is... One week later!

Hachiro: Mr. Kanie's been preparing for this for a long time.

P21

Hachiro: Well, I'm not keen on it, but I might just turn up.

Momo: It's been four long years. ~~~~~~

Yotasuke: Yaguchi-san?

Yatora: What?

Yatora: Oh...

Yakumo: Aaah! Aaah! Aaah!

Yakumo: Don't look at me. Go do whatever you want.

Yakumo: I'm watching the AOJ's trial feed.

Yakumo: They don't even know what the work is about. It's just a shitty exhibition.

P22

Hachiro: Well, Yakumo's right... Machiko's work is different from the type of artists Kanie Gallery usually deals with.

Hachiro: Maybe the Kanie’ customers won't be interested...

Sign: Kanie Gallery

P23

Yatora: Are there more galleries in Hiroshima?

Hachiro: Oh, no?

Women: I'm from Wakayama, I saw it on social media and thought it was a really nice painting...

Hachiro: I see.

Momo: I saw it on a social media and thought it was a very good picture.

Yakumo(‘s phone): This year's AOJ has started slowly, hasn't it?

Receptionist: Yaguchi Yatora-sama, isn't it?

Receptionist: Please have a drink from over there.

P24

Momo’s dad: Are you sure you didn't want to go with the others?

Momo’s dad: It was Machiko's big day.

Yakumo: You wouldn't want me to get into trouble, would you, kakinokizaka-san?

Momo’s dad: That would be a problem.

Momo’s dad: When he came to collect the paintings the other day, I got a call from Mr. Kanie. but I wondered if he'd already told you guys.

Momo’s dad: Now, this is Kenji Hachiro's work... (I think he rather meant responsibility???)

・・・・・・

P25

Momo’s dad: Hey, Yakumo-kun.

Momo’s dad: A lot has happened since Machiko passed away, hasn't it?

Yakumo: I never thought the three of us would pass the exam together.

Momo’s dad: Me too. I mean, no one thought so.

Yakumo: What's the matter? Are you trying to cheer me up?

Momo’s dad: Yakumo-kun, getting over something isn't a bad thing.

P26

Yakumo: You don't seem to understand, do you?

Momo’s dad: Funerals.

Momo’s dad: Maybe it's the ego of the living, but it's precisely because we humans can share something invisible that we can all interpret death together, accept it or let it go.

P27

Yakumo: In other words?

Momo’s dad: I mean, you know, I was thinking about moving on away.

Yakumo: ...? A postcard?

Postcard: Murai, I'll be waiting.  Sanada Machiko Solo Exhibition

Bubble: A postcard from the exhibition three years ago, which did not take place, addressed to you.

P28-29 double spread

Bubble: I think she wanted you to come and see it.

P30

Box: Amazing...

P31

Box: Egoistic.

Box: A strong picture that leaves no room for others.

Box: It's much stronger than the one I saw in the warehouse.

? - There you go.

P32

Kanie: So Yakumo didn't come after all?

Kanie: How's it going? It's a nice painting, isn't it? Sold out on the first day.

Kanie: Machiko Sanada's paintings only look good in the exhibition space.

Kanie: I understood the meaning of her persistence in the exhibition through this exhibition.

Yatora: I see…

Box: But for all that...

P33

Women: How could someone who paints such good pictures...

Women: She was... She was young, wasn't she?

Women: God is... really...

Dude: Hey!

Dude: Have you been on social networking sites too?

Dude: Sanada and I went to middle school together!

Dude: Sanada was a weird kid, but she was always really good at drawing...

Dude: Here's my graduation album from junior high school...

? - Hey...

P34

Yakumo: I know who you are, too.

Dude: Uh... friend of mine? You're a friend of mine?

Yatora: Mr Yakumo! You came?

Yakumo: Wow, so many people.

Yatora: Sanada-san's painting is amazing.

Yakumo: Hmm...

Yatora: What's going on?

Bubble: It's even better than when I saw it in the warehouse...

P35

Yakumo: It's a terrible exhibition. ~~~~~

Yatora: It's...

Hachiro: Yakumo ....?

Yatora: This is bad! It's a bad sign!

Yakumo: That woman...

P36

Yakumo: She just liked to draw, and it just happened that she drew good pictures.

Yakumo: Only to die at 18.

Yakumo: So what's this, "a genius girl painter who became an angel/real deal"?

Bubble: Who the hell is that?

P37

Kanie: So Yakumo's here...

Kanie: You can go home.

Hachiro: Yakumo.

Hachiro: Let's not... at Machiko's exhibition...

Yakumo: No, no, no, you can't stand it either, can you, Hacchan?

Yakumo: As soon as she died, they dramatized it.

Yakumo: Her drawings are eloquent, but she was just a quiet person.

Yakumo: I wonder why it's selling so well after all this time.

Yakumo: That's funny.

P38

Yakumo: If you pity her so much, buy her when she's alive!

Yakumo: Then maybe she'd be more...

Yakumo: Whaaaatttt?

Yakumo: Don't touch.../leave me alone

Kanie: You're ruining the mood.

Kanie: Go home.

P39

Talking: Call the police. ....?

Talking: What to do...

Hachiro: Let's go home. Let's go home.

Momo: Hacchan…

Hachiro: We're sorry for the trouble we caused you.

Hachiro: I will tell him to be more careful (something like this)

?- That’s unnecessary…

?- Hachiro-san...

P40

Machiko’s mom: Machiko must have made some good friends.

Bubble: Yes, she did.

P41

ha ha ha (laughing loudly)

Momo: Look! Look at this!

Phone: There was a man who was verbally abusing Machiko Sanada at her exhibition, it was terrible. Arrest him!

Hachiro: Yakumo. He's getting shit on social networking sites.

Yakumo: Hey, stop Ego-surfing!

Yatora: Ah, that middle school classmate...

P42

Momo: I can understand how Yakumo feels! I knew a lot of people who'd never even heard of Machiko.

Hacchan: Even the caption was, "What? Who?" It's a bit overdramatic.

Yakumo: Then, why don't you say so on the spot?

Momo: I'm an adult.

Hachiro: I'm an adult.

Bubble: If I were you, I'd retaliate in a way that wouldn't be noticed.

Yakumo: Oh, shit.

P43

Yakumo: No more paintings by that artist...

Yakumo: I've been drawing ~~~~ for a long, long time...

Yakumo: Every time I draw, every time I aim for something, I can't help thinking of her...

Yakumo: But it was fine...

P44

Yakumo: I've only known her for a few months.

Yakumo: That's fucked up.

Yakumo: I'd rather let my feelings die than be with her.

Yatora: What can you do with a person who draws like that?

Yatora: I’d think they’re too cool.

Yakumo: Ah?!

Yakumo: I think so too!

Yakumo: Right! She's so cool!

P45

Yakumo Oh, well, I'll just watch the rest of the AOJ feed.

Hachiro: Don't drink!

Hachiro: Thank goodness... Yakumo seems to be on the road to recovery.

Yotasuke: Hey...

Yotasuke: Why does he have to get back on his feet?

Yotasuke: .... What? What's wrong with Murai-san?

P46

Yotasuke: It's okay to live with that grief for the rest of your life.

P47

Yakumo: ... What?

Yakumo: I see.

Bubble: I can carry this sadness with me for the rest of my life.

Brush: Sanada

The wounds don't need to heal.

I will not forget you.

End of 64th stroke.

Next time: the results of the AOJ!

24th August 2023

#blue period #yaguchi yatora #murai yakumo #yotasuke takahashi #hachiro kenji #momoyo kakinokizaka #text post #blp vol 15 #blp translation