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doomanddead · 6 months

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Dead Cosmonauts Navigate the Wreckage of a Shattered Future

Here at Doom and Dead we shine a light on the underground doom, drone, and psych acts you’ve never heard of. Every month we choose a new release that deserves more attention than it’s gotten. This month’s pick is from the UK band Dead Cosmonauts.

We find ourselves living in dark times. Every day we struggle a little harder in a world that’s more expensive, more hateful, and more toxic than ever. Dead Cosmonauts’ first full-length album, Parasomnia feels like a warning, or maybe a premonition, of how much worse things can get. These songs are constantly in flux, shifting between graceful melodies and dissonant noise. But above all, these tracks are undeniably HEAVY. The album was mastered by Cult Of Luna’s Magnus Lindberg, so expect a sound that’s both haunting and forceful. These Sheffield-based doomers offer up a feast of technical musicianship and audacious songwriting that will keep you enthralled from beginning to end. So strap on your gas masks, and step out with me into the post-metal wasteland that is Parasomnia.

Liminal Space (65 mins REM, vitals = stable) is some moody, chaotic doom. Listening to this track is like dragging your fingertip across a wine glass; the sounds are both resonant and screeching, satisfying and unsettling. The song boasts deadly sharp riffage and decisive drumming, all bathed in a noxious broth of heavy fuzz. The composition shifts into a lower gear as we approach the finish line. Vocal samples from radio presenter Ailbhe Máiréad emerge from the digital snow, painting detail into the post-apocalyptic scene. The weight becomes unbearable, and the song finally buckles under the crushing atmosphere.

Beneath the Choking Sky starts with an ominous drone. Tone and texture form a boundless landscape. In time, the drone gives way to an introspective melody that slowly expands to dominate the space. The track is layered and delicate, but dangerous — a spider’s web that tangles listeners in silvery strands of desperation and despair.

Kenopsia propels the album forward with a digital pulse and an insatiable groove. Odd rhythms and novel drum patterns flare up and burn out rapidly, their short lives leaving stains on the unforgiving environment. The track flirts with intensity, building in magnitude only to pull itself back again. It’s a titillating composition, adroitly and artfully executed.

In Spirals It Took Everything is a palate cleansing soundscape that weighs the noises of nature against digital human chatter. The vibe ranges from safe and cozy, to wondrous.

Swallowed In Dark Waters is mysterious, plush. It exists in a dim expanse with wafting smoke and the cloying aftertaste of plucked guitar strings. Mania descends and the composition is impassioned, even fanatical. Sumptuous bow work from guest violinist Ruth Nicholson adds spice to the experience. In the wake of this outburst, the mood curdles. Chugging, slow passages are interwoven with bursts of frenzied lunacy. Extra notes jostle for domination in the narrow space of each beat. This piece is nothing if not restless. The tide shifts again and again, pulling us into ever deeper waters. This track is not the longest on the album, but undoubtedly one of the most profound.

The final offering, A Vision From The Valley Of Dry Bones, starts out insubstantial and jolly as if tapped out on a toy. A heftier layer of instrumentation rolls over the desert, dropping a barrage of gritty guitar riffs and jolting drum work. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls… dyin’ time’s here! Digital effects whiz by like meteorites. This piece fiddles with sound and texture, but remans melodic at every turn.

Nothing remains stationary on Parasomnia. Everything transmutes, changes behavior, and is continually replaced with something new. The bleak and unforgiving realm the band has conjured feels like a very real omen of things to come. The album oozes with narrative, even if the story is up for interpretation.

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oldmandoomer · 1 year

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The Final Wanderer - ballpoint pen on notebook paper.

BY GB WANDERER

I DRAW AND SKETCH EVERYDAY 💀

My drawings are tagged GBFA

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lucasallencook · 2 years

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https://www.etsy.com/listing/1268885201/lucas-allen-cook-fallen-cathedral

etsy.com/shop/lucasallencook

#art #painting #doom #skulls #doom metal #death metal #thrash metal #black metal #post apocalyptic #fallen cathedral #lucasallencook

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aerikvon · 24 days

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youtube

#trash metal #doom metal #heavy metal #music #aerikvon #aerik #von #aerik von #youtbe #metal #post apocalyptic #apocalyptic #Youtube

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danielhowell · 3 months

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DOOMED MERCH HAS DROPPED!

No this is not a drill - after touring the world (that is ending), probably the coolest merch I will ever release is finally here - we have scoured the corners of the earth to pull together a collection of WE'RE ALL DOOMED! merch to celebrate the recent show (and slit) and bring it online for you.

From the tour date t-shirt, to the iconic DOOMED ambigram hoodie, the black metal longsleeve and ..the 'DanHub tee' - choose what your apocalyptic aesthetic is.

WORLDWIDE: shop.danielhowell.com USA: us.shop.danielhowell.com EUROPE: eu.shop.danielhowell.com AUSTRALIA: au.shop.danielhowell.com

As a SPECIAL (wow) online-only offer - every order of the super limited quantity Vegan Leather Jacket (with rapture art on the reverse) will also ship with a totally unique Polaroid selfie that I took while thinking about death!

I make no promises what I will be doing - it could be a cute smile, or a middle-finger. It's just whatever the vibe was in the moment. Who knows what someone will trade for the rare under-chin angle that some lucky person will get? (I am so sorry)

And it's not just garments - we've also got rare collectors items to snatch including the interval playlist cassette tape, and the 'Tears of My Enemies' water bottle, that I drink out of myself everyday while manifesting people's downfall.

Lastly, look out for the signed Ally Pally London show posters commemorating the final performances, which may come with fingerprints allowing you to perfectly fraud my identity, due to my left-handed sharpie smudging.

I want to say thank you to the tens of thousands of people that tuned into the stream to celebrate my show - without you it wouldn't have been possible to capture for posterity and now the message can live on. I'm going to begin my quest to determine where DOOMED will live forever, and who knows if we'll manage to wrangle any of the other rare itemz🐝 along with it in the future. I appreciate you all and I can't wait to see you all looking gnarly as fuck scaring the normies in this merch. Thanks 🖤 - Dan

#danielhowell #wad #doomedtour

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fortunatetragedy · 27 days

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writeblr intro 2.0

i know i just did one of these but i need to start organizing this shit show of a blog and newcomers deserve to know what they're getting into so this is my new pinned post.

who i am a gender-apathetic homosexual "elder millennial" with one (1) bachelor's degree who types faster than they think and is a good illustration of the "childhood trauma to self-deprecating writer with a substance problem" pipeline.

between 2017 and 2021 i published fiction in the dark fantasy and horror genres under a pen name. i left social media in 2021. other than lurking on pinterest and rejoining tumblr that hasn't changed.

i live with adhd, anxiety, and chronic pain in the form of cervical spine stenosis and trigeminal neuralgia. i am considered disabled, and at the moment my conditions are considered poorly managed. whoops~

on the plus side i'm back to being able to write things that don't SUCK.

where i'm from i am an air force brat. i've lived several places, but i don't have a hometown.

in june 2023 i moved from new york to oklahoma. i haven't run screaming yet.

what i write current wip has the working title DOOM METAL LOVE STORY (not its query title lmao) and is the project i post about the most.

a weird western trilogy set in the 1870s, it follows a cavalryman and his outlaw lover as they escape a time loop to stop a delusional man from summoning an apocalyptic god-spirit.

book 1 | status: complete, 167.5k words (2024/3) book 2 | status: in progress, 27.2k words (2024/5) book 3 | status: slowly becoming an outline

book 1 sample chapters [1, 2, 3] playlist/chapter list here

interested in beta reading? read this post.

i've started posting original fiction on ao3.

among the elements [m:ta] is the story of how my character's mad scientist father conceived her in a lab then had to hide her in his guts. FOR SCIENCE. | status: complete, 10k words (2024/4)

a living machine [m:ta] is the Scientist's life before he became a father. | status: in progress, 13.5k words (2024/5)

final warning if we're mutuals i'm going to get obnoxiously excited about your projects and characters because fiction rules and so do you.

#writeblr #writeblr intro #writers on tumblr #caffeine-addled maniacs #queer writers #i haven't known what the hell i've been doing since 1984 and i'm not about to start now

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saradika · 10 months

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— WASTELAND, BABY

ix. i'm in love, i'm in love with you

[masterlist] | [part viii]

boba fett x f!reader

rated E - 3k

tags: fallout au, post-apocalyptic, canon-typical themes (violence & death), angst, feelings, hurt/comfort, oral sex (m receiving), PiV, praise kink, almost-died sex, multiple POV

Your emotions churn with the agony that his protection brings, leaving you worried about the unknown as you wait to be reunited.

The sounds of the battle are muted, behind the thick walls of the storefront. The windows hastily boarded up by the settlers who had fled there. Grouped together in nervous huddles in the back, where it's the safest.

You pick at a piece of splintered wood on the floor. Eyes downcast and brow furrowed with frustration, as you strain to listen. Furtive glances towards the back door - wondering if you were strong enough to muscle the metal shelf out of the way.

Because if you were out there, you wouldn't have to wonder. Fixating on that moment when you had looked at him. That moment when you had felt your life tilt, and then fracture, when you had made your decision to stand your ground.

To hold them off. To buy him time.

Never expecting him to change course.

Veering off the straight shot towards his Power Armor, a guaranteed victory. Putting himself between you and harm's way, as that board shattered against his arm. The sound of the splintering wood and his bitten-back groan reverberate in your mind.

It's impossible not to read into. Not to wonder that by doing so, he doomed himself.

If he had, it would be your fault. Could you live with yourself, knowing that?

The thought burns at your insides, searing somewhere deep inside your chest. Trying to figure out if you could make a break for it. Claw your way outside, and back to him.

Not that you would make it far, though. Not with Charon watching. Waiting.

Most likely knowing how much you're itching to get back out there. To help them, help him.

Being in here was probably just as frustrating for him. But he's sworn to this task of ferrying you to safety.

And he's too strong for you to best.

You settle, then. Focusing your frustration on the piece of wood, as it snaps off into your hand. Bringing no relief, only a strange sense of regret at leaving the jagged edge behind.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" You ask - some time later, as the minutes drag on. A breath, "I haven't seen anything like this before. It's..."

Charon blinks down at you, his face even more skull-like in the darkened room. The leathers he wears creaking as he leans against the wall, but your words fail you.

A tremble coming now, as the adrenaline begins to flush from your system. Realizing just now narrowly you missed your own end.

If Boba hadn't come - hadn't pushed you aside...

"I've lived through hundreds of days like this one." He tells you, plainly, "Some make it through. Others don't."

It makes your stomach clench, worry like acid in your throat. Your eyes drop slowly, as your chin rests on top of your pulled-up knees. Giving him another quick look, this one appraising.

"You've made it through them all?"

Lingering like a question, though it's clear he has.

His chin lifts, "Yes."

It has you wondering if he'd agree. If you promised to stick close to him.

"Do you wish you were out there, now?"

The look he gives you glitters in the half-light. He's never smiled in front of you but it's as close to a smirk as you've ever seen. Knowing, as the weapon shifts in his grip.

Repeating the words earlier.

"I do as I am bidden."

"Feelings or no?" You prompt.

"Feelings or no." He confirms, leaving no room for argument.

The short, frustrated exhale through your nose is loud, as your head thunks against the back wall. Worrying at the edge of a fingernail, listening to the muted shouts from outside.

Silence lingers in your corner - until he eventually breaks it.

"I've had many employers. He is among the fiercest of them." He doesn't look at you when he says this, his eyes fixed on a flicker of shadow that crosses in front of the boarded-up window.

"I do not think his end will be at the hand of a Super Mutant. Or a Raider, for that matter."

There's comfort in his answer. One that he certainly did not have to provide. Enough to convince you to abandon your plan of finding a way out of here.

Leaving you to wait.

And wait.

All is quiet.

The cracks of laser rifles and moving machinery, the stomping of feet and yells, eventually dwindling to nothing.

You're among the first on your feet, ignoring Charon as you try to muscle the door open yourself. Those worried thoughts swirling and swirling, wondering what you will see on the other side.

"Patience." He tells you - but then he's lifting the edge of the shelf. You've wriggling through the door as soon as it's opened wide enough.

There's smoke outside. Two buildings in ruins. Figures scattered among the road - hulking and green. Smaller - covered in dark leather and rusted, pointy spikes. Stomped down paths through the razorgrain. Lines of broken trellises, the fruit laying splattered across the ground.

You ignore it, singularly-focused. Watching where the people crowd, before you're off at a run. Checking open doors and peering through windows as your eyes burn, as your jaw ticks.

Until you find him.

Tucked away in the new infirmary, his location noted where Krrsantan lingers outside. The Wookie’s fur matted with mud and gore but no worse for wear. A small nod of his head as you slip behind him, and then into the room.

Fennec is already there - the tension in her face easing some, when she sees you.

Grasping Boba's bare forearm, where there's a twisting of dark, bruised flesh. The town medic covering it up with each wrapping twist of stained gauze - two discarded stimpaks laying on the table next to the bed.

Your eyes rove over him - his armor stripped away to just the black robes beneath. That sharp edge of panic only easing when your worried eyes meet his defiant ones. It's when you realize he's safe that the anger comes back.

Folded in with your worry and the relief that blooms so fervently that you're struck dumb. Not sure what to say, to make of anything.

Brushing away the attempts to check you over - rattled, and dust-covered but no worse for wear. Left hovering in the bustle of the room, your back pressed against the wooden wall.

Simmering, as your eyes linger on him. Seeing a singed mark on his bicep as his arm pressed close against his chest - the glancing shot of a laser rifle. It disappears, under another worn bandage.

You still can’t help but feel like you could have helped, if you had stayed. Held your own long enough for him to reach the armor, where it still lingers in the town, untouched. He wouldn’t have been hurt, if he hadn't seen you.

Deep down, a part of you knows it’s unreasonable - that you should be grateful. That Boba had come to your rescue once again, protecting you like before. That perhaps the Mutant you downed had been luck, that you never would have been able to take that blow from the second like he had.

But the fear of the battle still jitters through you, your anger a conduit for everything you haven’t been able to process. Only able to focus on your small part of the much bigger picture.

The minutes pass, and your teeth clench. His gaze purposely avoids yours, as the tending comes to an end - his arm tucked close to his chest, into a cloth sling. A low groan as he’s moved to one of the bedrooms down the hall, as the stimpak works its magic.

It’s one thing that you are grateful for - the continued advance of modern medicine, the accelerated healing. Mending cracked bones and split, scorched skin in a matter of hours.

He encourages them to leave him once the bandages are tied - to go and check on the others. The room slowly empties, until it’s only you in the doorway, Fennec’s arms crossing as she stands at the end of the bed.

Her eyes dart quickly between the two of you.

Sensing the tension, but she had been wrapped up in the battle - picking off raiders from her perch. Seeing the collision as he had changed course, but too far away to hear.

Fennec makes sure he’s set, before she’s slipping out the door. A touch to the small of your back - nudging you inside.

“You did well.” She murmurs, that hand slides to your shoulder. A squeeze, before the door is closing shut with a click that seems to echo.

The air feels thick, once you’re alone. Your hands pressing against the worn wood as his heavy gaze rests on you. Returning it with your own unblinking look.

Unable to resist the urge to move forward, now that he’s here. Your feet taking you to the edge of the bed he’s resting on, with a need to touch him for yourself. The mattress is thin but soft as you sink onto it, the slightest shift of his leg to make room.

You break the silence first - cleaving neatly through it. Unable to take the silence, his look of reproach, when he was the one who had sent you away.

"Why didn't you go to your power armor?" You hiss, as you reach - your touch feather-light as you examine the bindings. Smoothing a thumb over the rough edges, neatly tucking in the frayed ends, “You could have taken them-”

“Do you really think I would have left you out there?” His words are edged with steel - as hard as his armor, “Why didn't you run, sen'ika?"

There's anger in his tone. Rough and crackling at the edges, and when you finally meet his gaze, he looks furious. Like he cannot comprehend what you were doing out there, why you had begged to stay. Why you hadn't gone inside with the others, keeping yourself safe.

It has you realizing that your reason might just be the same as his.

The thought feels like a lightning strike. Feeling the ache of your devotion, how it has been close to smothering you for all these weeks. Never really, truly thinking that the depth of it might be returned. Not from a man like him.

"You must know." You tell him, your eyes dropping to trace the bandages. The flex of his arm under your fingertips, that now goes still.

He must know that you were trying to protect him. To buy him time - even if you feel so foolish for it, now. That it's become impossible for you not to think of him. That it had been love that kept you there, wishing for him to go to the armor - to safety - instead of you.

He must know that your heart has been his, for ages now.

When you finally look up, he's watching you. With that face he makes so often, piercing right through you. Making you feel so exposed - the flesh stripped from your bones until just your beating heart is left.

Your arms wrap around your chest, protective in their movement. His eyes following, his voice rough and low.

“Come here, princess.”

Spoken low and tenderly, your eyes blinking with surprise. Tripping over that tone that he only uses you when you're alone.

Coaxing you onto his lap, instead of by his side. A careful shift as you move around the makeshift sling, settling on his thighs.

His free hand cupping your jaw, the press of his forehead against yours before you’re tilting forward. A sigh as you meet his lips, the scales of your emotions tipping back towards relief. Desperation.

He’s here and he’s alive and you both are. A close call but he’s solid and strong and beneath you now, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his thighs spread. The smallest rock against your core as your lips part for him.

You want to take care of him. To take things slow this time, to see that parts that have been hidden away for so long.

His dark robes are soft under your touch. Fingers tracing the edges, until you find where the pieces meet - undoing them carefully.

Inches of skin come into view, the hollow of his throat, and then down. Your hands follow, over bare and scarred skin, a chest that rises and falls with his breath.

Achingly careful of his arm with your movement. Your eyes greedily soaking in every detail, as the robes part open like curtains. As you see him, for the first time.

He’s beautiful - a lifetime etched into his skin, scars from battles you’ve never heard of. Hoping that one day he’ll want to tell you about them, that you’ll know him as well as you know yourself.

Unconscious of the way he’s been watching you - dark eyes catching the expressions on your face. A long-held breath escaping when your lips press against his sternum, following the path of your fingers. Stopping at each mark against his skin, taking your time.

There’s a shift of his thighs as they inch wider, hips lifting so you can peel down the cotton. Half-hard from the press of your mouth, twitching as your breath ghosts over his skin.

He groans as you kiss him there, too. Silky-smooth skin that swells against your tongue, as you take him into your mouth. Eyes closing as a hand curves around your shoulder - sliding up to press against your neck, cup your jaw.

Sucking on him until he’s fully hard, groaning at the taste of his skin, swallowing down the bead of precum that wells at the tip.

Your fingers wrapping around his base the best you can. Never getting the chance to do this before - so you take the time now to learn every inch of him. The earlier sentiments fused with each touch.

Let me take care of you.

The stroke of your fist tight and squeezing as you try to swallow him down. Unable to make it far before you’re gagging, slicking him up further as your eyes water.

His thumb brushes under the hollow of your eye. Sweeping the tear away, smoothing it into your skin as he groans. The noise rough and low in his chest as his thighs spread further, a flex as he rocks into your mouth.

A praise gritted out through his teeth as your tongue traces each vein and ridge.

“Gods, just like that. Good fucking girl.”

It makes you moan. The words reflected your way, skittering over your skin.

A shiver down your spine as your thighs press together, as you squirm. Damp from just kissing him earlier - soaked now from sucking him.

Your left hand pressing against the seam of your pants, and then dips under, as your fist works faster - eager to taste him on your tongue, to swallow him down.

The sight must do something to him. An edge to his words, an insistence as his hand leaves your face to grasp at your wrist.

Your eyes open, as you ease off him, the back of your hand swiping against your lips as he hangs heavy and shining between his thighs.

“Up here.” He all but growls, “Now.”

You lift, and then linger. Hands pressing into the bed on either side of his hips, eying the makeshift sling.

“But, you arm-” You’re protesting - but then he’s making a sound like a scoff, his fingers biting into your skin.

“It’s nothing.” It’s not. “I need you sitting on my cock right now, princess. Do you understand?”

The command flirts with desperation. His tone, his words, fueling you. That coil in your belly winding tighter as you strip your layers off - leaving them to pool on the ground.

Carefully climbing onto his lap, his cock hard and slick where it slides against your wet pussy.

It only takes a second to line him up. The hand curving around your hip instead, a sharp look as Boba presses you down.

You feel the last strings that tether you to your anger snap, as he sinks fully into you.

He can’t say it back. Those sentiments - the most tender part of you - fused in your answer. Knowing the true meaning of your words, the way the mirror the ones that he had cut off, that night in the cabin.

It’s in your touch and the tender press of your mouth to his.

But it's there.

It was there in the way his heart has flipped. The fear that had risen - after being latent for so many years. How it was never a question in his mind - how his feet had altered his path without ever thinking.

Yes, he was the Daimyo. Protection had become second nature, in these past few years.

But he hasn’t been thinking about that, when the fence fell.

Boba was only thinking of you. He would have thrown himself in front of you again and again. Always taking that same blow.

Taking worse - if it meant that it would spare you.

It’s there, as he drives up into you, burying himself deep. Your gasp high on your lips as you cling to him, fingernails biting into his shoulder.

Gently coaxing you to ride him - for once, letting you set the pace as your thighs slap against his.

Each of your breaths a soft huff, his eyes dropping to watch the sway of your breasts, the way your thighs split around his waist.

It’s easy for his band to sneak down between you. Fingers part around your clit - pinching down, stroking until he can feel the thudding beat beneath your skin. Proof that you’re still with him, as he feels where you’re connected, unable to help pulling your mouth to his.

It’s there, as he swallows your cries - his fingers circling in patterns that he now knows well. The grind of his hips into where you’re wet and warm and clenching down around him, something like a plea breathed out against his skin when your bury your face into his neck.

Hitching breath, his name pretty and ragged as you moan - a jolt that shoots down his spine, straight to his cock. The ache in his arm where your chest pushes against him - forgetting, as you chase the release he’ll pull from you - is dulled by the pleasure of watching.

Feeling, as you string tight against him. A shallow rock of your hips as you cry out, bucking into his fingers.

Boba mourns the loss - missing the way your eyes glaze over, the press of your kiss-swollen lips. It makes him think about how pretty they looked stretched around his cock.

How good you had been, doing your best to make him moan. How your eyes had fluttered shut, a groan buzzing in your throat at his words.

He remembers what he had said to make you do that, the unconscious jerk of your body, the way you had gazed up at him. An overwhelming urge to hear it again - feel you, again.

“Gods, you feel so fucking good.” His voice sounds ragged, even to his own ears, “Such a good girl, aren’t you? Are you going to come again?”

The effect is instantaneous - he can feel the flex of your muscles, the tremble of your thighs as you ride him. The sharp gasp of your breath, the high hum of assent.

A mumbled warning, as his fingers work faster. Too far gone to bounce on his cock anymore, riding out the pulse of your orgasm with the rutting of your hips as he growls on your ear.

“That’s it. That’s my good girl, come on-”

His own is a bright spark - something about to burst. A leaded weight in his belly, drawing tight where you’ve soaked him. Your slick dripping down your thighs, making a mess of his cock, his heavy sack.

There’s a handful of sloppy thrusts and then he’s there. Still feeling the tight grip of your cunt as the pleasure spills from him in heavy spurts. Your head turning as you lean back, pressing your forehead to his as fills you.

Marking you as his, once more.

It’s there - when his arm wraps around you, after. Tender now, finding out a new way to fit together. Sharing the tiny space. Fixing some layers but still leaving his chest bare, for your head to cradle against.

It’s there as he tells you, "Stay with me tonight, cyare."

Finally tearing at those layers and casting them aside - just like you had.

Cyare - beloved 🥲💖

Thank you so much for reading - the comments and tags and notes have absolutely meant the world. Thank you for going on this little journey into the Wasteland with me! 💚 the final part will be out next thursday, the 3rd!

(0-pressure tags 💕: @spaceydragons, @luladoll, @obiknights, @wingofshadow, @bobathirstaccount, @reluctant-mandalore, @ohheyitsokay, @floral-force, @valentine-tx, @ri-a-rose, @dreamlandcreations, @vellichormybeloved, @writeforfandoms, @winchestershiresauce, @monada43, @thegalaxys-edge, @honeydjarin, @ray-rook, @dumfanting, @bedky, @thirsty-boba-fett-posts, @dukeoftheblackstar, @lifelikefae, @pentaghasm, @izbelross, @margowritesthings)

#boba fett x female reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett imagine #boba fett smut

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melodymunson · 1 year

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About me & Stranger Things & Joe Keery characters masterlist

About me

Moodboards

Masterlist

My profiles/socials

Fanfiction net profile

Wattpad

Ao3

All fics contain NSFW. 18+ only. All fics are oneshots except for the rockstar Eddie x fem!reader series & cheerleader fem!reader x Eddie. Only writing reader (Y/N) x character and character x character now. Open for requests. I write for Eddie, Steve, Robin, and other Joe Keery characters.

Blurbs:

Baron Lamram x fem!reader

Eddie x fem!reader x fem!groupie

Stobin blurb

Tom Grant Makeup x fem reader blurb

tumblr fics

newest fic

Goth cheerleader fem!reader x Eddie Munson chapter 1 of 2

Goth cheerleader fem!reader x Eddie part 2 of 2

Fem reader x Steddie Halloween

Gator Tillman x fem reader Fargo head canons

Kurt Kunkle x fem reader oneshot

Steddie x fem!reader oneshot need u tonight

Platonic Stobin x fem reader oneshot

Eddie Munson x fem!reader x Chrissy Cunningham oneshot

Eddie Munson x Reader x Corroded Coffin groupie

Steddie x fem reader flesh for fantasy

Steddie x fem reader valentines head canons

Rockstar Eddie Munson x fem reader head canons

Other works and ao3 versions of fics

Baron Lamram x fem!reader

Tom Grant x fem reader blurb

Rockstar Eddie x groupie x reader ao3

flesh for fantasy Steddie x fem reader ao3

Steddie valentines ao3

Rockstar Eddie head canons ao3

Steve Harrington x fem reader x Eddie Munson need you tonight

Steve and Eddie are your roommates. They hear you one night talking in your sleep and saying/moaning their names. They come to see if you are alright and find you touching yourself.

Gator Tillman x fem reader head canons I belong to you

Just head canons for Gator x fem reader and their life together

Kurt Kunkle x fem reader rock you like a hurricane oneshot

As Kurt's #1 fan, you go out of your way to meet him and drive Spree with him. You go on to commit violent acts together and depravity. You show virgin Kurt the time of his life and he has all of his sexual firsts with you.

Steve x Eddie x reader Christmas

Steve Harrington, Eddie and you spend an amazing night at Steves's place after a Christmas party and make it an early Christmas to remember forever.

Cheerleader reader x Eddie Munson

3-part series slow burn strangers-friends-lovers. You were dating the hottest jock in school until one day you meet Eddie and your life changed forever.

Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham x fem!reader love my apocalyptic

You were former friends with Chrissy Cunningham. One day she showed up to visit the trailer park to buy some Ketamine from your boyfriend Eddie who you live with. What started as a rocky evening led to a night the 3 of you could ever forget.

Platonic Steve Harrington x Robin Buckley & fem!reader

The reader works with Steve and Robin in the Family Video and already has an established relationship with Steve. When Robin finds out she likes girls and that they have unrequited feelings for each other, they plan a date night at Steve and readers' condo.

Older rockstar Eddie Munson x younger fem!reader (series completed 21 chapters).

Series summary: Corroded Coffin have a reunion tour with none other than doom/gothic metal legends Type O' Negative. Reader recently finished college with a bachelor's degree in the music business. After being interviewed by none other than Eddie Munson himself, you get the job as their touring band manager. What starts as a business relationship grows into friendship and eventually an epic romance. Steve Harrington is CC's bodyguard. Eventual Steddie x fem! reader. Multi-series. Eventual smut.

Pics/selfies/Stranger things related:

Selfies 1

Eddie merch

More recent selfies

More me

More Eddie merch

My fruity four rp/ask blog @fruityfour-rp

My Steve twin/Steve lover and besties: @corneliuswatkins 😊 @keeryatmosphere

My fellow AHS & Michael Langdon lover Miss Dani: @americanhorrorstcry

The Steve to my Robin @koskeepsake😎

Chrissy/My Eddie twin and fellow Billy Lover: @chrissymjstan 😊

Some of my other lovely moots:

@headovaheelsinlove @eddiemunsonfuxks @aleisashortcake @brinasdead @edsbug @haceleyes @lovelythoughtfulcupcake @ofhawkinsandvecna @stevesxyellowxsweater @mrprettywhenhecries @bimbobaggins69 @unholy-church01 @rowanswriting @steveslittlesunflower @emsgoodthinkin @babygorewhore @inourtownofhawkins @haceleyes @ali-r3n @jadeylovesmarvelxo @somethingvicked @tea-party-at-wonderland

An awesome Eddie fan blog @lovemesomeeddiemunson

My Munson Twins @the-munson-twins

My sweet Eddie @hellfiremun

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sicklyseraphnsuch · 8 months

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TW: character death; blood

When Simon regained his wits, he finds no sign of the vampire lady that enthralled him. He also has no idea how long he's been under his thrall. He finds himself waking up to an empty, patchwork room. The walls were made from broken pieces of cement, assembled together like a giant jigsaw puzzle. Thin sheets of tin metal was laid on top of the walls to resemble a roof, and barely managed to prevent exposure. Damp dirt, just dry enough to avoid becoming mud, served as the floor, with layers and layers of newspapers to act as some form of insulation.

Yet despite the lack of proper resources, someone ensured this post-apocalyptic shelter contained personal touches. Crayon drawings and half written lyrics were pinned on most flat surface. A mattress of scrap cloth was laid out beneath him, sewn together with wide clumsy stitches. And lying next to him, as if to keep him company, there sits a stuffed toy - its long, threadbare limbs fraying at the edges.

Simon woke up in Marceline's home. But Marceline was nowhere to be found. His hand automatically reaches up to his head, and his fingers brush the cold kiss of metal. She didn't take it off. Now, what could that mean? And where has Marcy gone? And why hasn't she come back?

He jumps to his feet, storms out the shelter, and runs - runs - runs. The sweet whispers of frost - no, shut up! Shut up! Something is wrong! He needs to go. Where? He doesn't - the Empress. She would know! He reaches into the Crown, pushing past its cold promises and seizes the heart of its power. He summons a howling wind that nearly knocks him off his feet before it carries him up and over and far - further - faster!

The sun is a sliver of orange in the horizon. The stars are already twinkling in the indigo sky. And perhaps, it would have been better if light had completely abandoned him - the whole damn universe already saw fit to forsake him, why not light as well? A shroud of immutable darkness would have shielded him from... from...

Simon never reaches the Empress - never finds her in whatever den of depravity she dug for herself. As a self-styled expert on lost and forgotten things, he is doomed to find precisely what he's looking for.

He spies an abandoned camp - torn tents and tossed supplies. He hears screaming - men, women, children. No, that's not important. No. There - pressed against the trees all broken and bent, there is a little girl. Except, she's not so little anymore. It's been years. He left her. He left her.

She was supposed to be safe.

He lands, soft as if afraid to wake her. But her eyes are wide open, staring sightlessly into the distance. A sharp thing - he cannot look. Her shirt is soaked through - there's so much. Her hand holds a stake - she hasn't let go.

Time stops for Simon Petrikov. His thoughts fade to depthless black. His body becomes a distant memory. The world dissolves around him like snowflake melting in his palm.

It's dark now. The sun sunk a long, long time ago. In the lack of light, he could almost, almost believe that he was looking at someone else - anyone else. This could be another girl with black hair, pointed ears, and grey skin. This could be another daughter of a different man.

The axe damns him. Its sharp blade nestled deep into her chest, sliding straight into the tree. The axe is bright red and sharper than the Devil's tongue.

She was supposed to be safe.

She was supposed to be protected.

She was supposed to have her father.

tHe CrOwn HuMS.

It sears with power, balancing on a precipice, awaiting his command. He only needs to ask. His will be done.

A branch snaps to his left. The bushes rustle as a creature leaps out, long fangs ready to sink into its next meal. Poor thing. It freezes mid-air, neither feet will ever touch the ground again.

Frost begins to sweep and curl across the ground. It swallows whole everything it touches - every leaf, every worm, every creature in its path. It crawls through the veins, solidfying lungs, entombing hearts. The living and the dead and everything else in between - all turn to ice.

No one is screaming now.

Simon grabs hold of the axe. His fingers brush against the embedded strings - her work, undoubtedly. He grits his teeth, letting every curse and cry rot within his throat. He pulls.

How does that old saying go? When hell freezes over? Well.

Simon can answer that one, can't he?

#adventure time #fionna and cake #simon petrikov #marceline the vampire queen #winter is coming

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vykodlak · 9 months

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hi, hope you don't mind me asking you for a music recommendation but do you happen to know any metal songs with pipe organs, or otherwise very strong church-y vibe I guess? :3

You can't get much churchier than Баtushka. I can only vouch for the albums Litourgija and Panihida being good though. The vibes get weaker from hereon out (metal's not known for its earnest love for the church 👍) but here's what else I can think of rn.

Actual pipe organs are kinda rare but you can also find heaps of bands who do keyboards that simulate the sound (or something close to it). Gothic & doom metal in particular loves them. Check out uhh Skepticism (see also Farmakon). Ecstatic Fear, Pantheist (& O Solitude), Atramentus, Quercus, Folterkammer (more operatic). Bell Witch (Shows up in Mirror Reaper too). If you don't mind somewhat of a goofy haunted castle vibe mixed in there's also Abysmal Grief (keys ahoy) & Cultus Sanguine. Conan - Grief Sequence was an interesting tidbit from last year. And I guess, if all else fails, Powerwolf (stossgebet still one of their best songs).

For other misc. stuff there's some Virgin Black, My Dying Bride, Some Isole. Apocalypse Orchestra are more medieval hurdy-gurdy-sounding but I think that fits well with a churchy vibe. Similarly in the medieval vein, Dautha. Ecclesia are over the top, hammy as hell doom/heavy inquisition larpers. Ethereal Shroud's They Became the Falling Ash for something mournful. While Heaven Wept for more ham. Aastral, more chanting (the relentless hammering can get a bit distracting here but there are some cleaner sections). Andvaka for something slow, ritualistic & heavy. Colosseum (keys here), Funeral's Tristesse (+ Demo '99 & Burning With Regret). Omination for something apocalyptic. Am Himmel for something more amorphous. Rotting Christ. For more ''church cemetery'' try Ningizzia, Serenades, Shape of Despair. Abduction's Jehanne for even more medieval vibes. Tristitia (REALLY cheesy, might be of interest due to how heavily they lean into the aesthetic).

Kinda pushing it now: Ulver's Bergtatt is pagan bm, but has kinda 'gregorian chant'-type vocals. Thergothon. Gehenna, maybe, if you want MORE creepy synths.

#sorry you said songs but its mostly full albums lmao;#text

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inbrightshadows · 10 months

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👀

Part 2 of this Inspired by Cass Apocalyptic series by somerandomdude

Which is very cool and you should read it 🥺

Predictably, his brothers are tumbling through the door in seconds, ready for a fight. Donnie looks toward them, hunched over the empty mug hastily repurposed to contain the creature.

“Everything is under control.” “Donnie what happened? Are you okay?” Raph asks as his eyes dart around the room, searching for a threat. “Everything. Is under. Control.”

Leo frowns at the mug Donnie clutches in a white knuckled grip, one hand covering the top. “Um. Donnie… What’s in the mug.” “It’s under control!” Donnie hisses, curling further over the mug. The beast within chirps. “Hello family, Upset? Comfort?” Three pairs of eyes jerk to the cup.

“What was that?” Mikey gasps. “Nothing! It was nothing haha why would you think it was something?” “Donnie… what did you do?” Leo asks, stepping forward.

Donnie scrambles back. “Me? I didn’t do anything. Why would you think I did something? Casey Junior certainly didn’t catch me snooping in my future self’s lab and I certainly didn’t accidentally spill some random substance on him!”

“You did what?” Raph asks, strangled. “I said I didn’t! Annnnd it didn’t turn him into a baby mutant turtle!” “You turned him into a what?” “I SAID DIDN’T!”

One short wrestling match later Raph is the proud holder of a mug full of baby mutant turtle. Well. Full is a bit of an exaggeration.

Casey is a bit too small to do any filling of the mug, being about the size of a particularly ambitious quarter or perhaps an under achieving kumquat. But he’s perfectly capable of chirping loudly for attention and reaching grabby little hands for the sides to try and climb out. Thankfully, he’s too small to reach the edge.

“Raph stop crying over the mug, you’re going to drown him!” Leo says, hovering over the mug himself from his perch on Raph’s shoulder. Mikey, perched on Raph’s other shoulder, rolls his eyes. “He’s literally a turtle, he’d be fine!” “Okay, well he’s a freshwater turtle not a salt water turtle so it can’t be good for him.”

Raph sniffles, making a valiant and doomed effort to stop crying. “He’s just- he’s just so small.” Raph sticks one finger into the mug and strokes over Casey’s head. Casey immediately latches on and starts climbing. Raph is delighted. Donnie is not.

“NO!” Donnie lunges, grabbing the mug and sending an arm from his battle shell to gently snatch the beast off his brother and put him back in his containment unit. Casey, unbothered, chirps cheerfully and nips at the metal limb. “Do not free the beast.” Leo glares at him. “Donnie, he’s a baby.” “He bit me!”

Said baby chirps again. Tiny fingers briefly wave at the edge of the mug before vanishing again. There’s a muffled thud and a soft clink before they reappear followed by another thud and clink. The repeated failure does not discourage Casey from continuing to jump for the edge of the mug no matter how many times butt and shell hit the bottom of the mug.

“Raph used to bite when he was excited! Or sad. Or hungry. Maybe he’s hungry? I could cook him something.” Mikey hops off Raph and tries to take the mug from Donnie. Donnie holds it as far away as he can, putting all his skill as an older brother into evading Mikey’s grabby hands.

“Hungry for flesh.” “Well red eared sliders are omnivores. I could make him something and then maybe he won’t try to eat Donnie!”

Raph leans over and snags the mug again. Donnie refuses to let go, letting Raph simply hoist him into the air with the mug.“I don’t think he was really trying to eat Donnie. Mikey’s right, he’s probably just an excited widdle baby- yes you are! Yes you are!” Donnie, dangling from the mug he refuses to let go of, pretends to gag. Raph freezes. He looks over to find that Donnie isn't the only one judging him. At least Casey Jr and his happy little baby chirps isn’t judging him.

Raph coughs and tries to pry Donnie off the mug “…But we probably should feed him anyway. He’s a baby right now so he’s probably hungry too.”

Donnie hisses and refuses to let go, swinging one leg up to latch around Raph’s arm for a better grip. Raph rolls his eyes. “C’mon Donnie there isn’t even a mark!” “So? He still bit me!” Raph stands, holding the mug over his head and swinging it gently back and forth, making Donnie flop about.

“Careful! You’re shaking him!” Leo gasps, clambering up Raph’s raised arm to peak into the mug. “Yay, climb on Raph time!” Mikey flips up onto Raph’s shell and perches there, crossing his arms over Raph’s head and resting his head on them.

Donnie stays firmly attached to the mug and Raph. Raph puts his other hand over Donnie’s chest and pushes until Donnie loses his grip and falls on his butt.

Leo balances precariously on Raph’s outstretched arm, peering into the mug. “You all right in there Case-” Raph drops his arm and Leo slips, tumbling gracelessly to the floor. Mikey snickers. Leo makes a rude gesture at him. Raph gasps. “Leo! Not in front of the baby!” “He can’t see! Plus he isn’t actually a baby!” “He is right now! And Mikey is here too!” “Hey!” “Rude gestures fall under the no cursing rules, Mikey,” Raph says, frowning up at Mikey as best he can. “I’m fifteen,” Mikey grumbles, but settles down. “Ok, ok, how about we all just head to the kitchen and get the lil’ man something to eat?”

“I call dibs on baby duty while you two cook!” Leo scrambles up to hitch a ride on the Raph express. “Wait. Do we have anything safe for baby red sliders to eat? Donnie what can baby red sliders eat?” Donnie groans. “I guess I’ll make sure you three don’t accidentally poison him-” “Is that a possibility?” Leo squeaks. “- or something equally undesirable even though you’re all letting his adorable exterior lull you into a false sense of security.” “Donnie.” all three of his brothers say as one. “What? He’s vicious and he has you all wrapped around his finger!”

Donnie’s brothers ignore his perfectly reasonable dramatics to let Raph carry them to the kitchen while Raph chrrs back to Casey’s tiny chirps. With a final roll of his eyes Donnie rushes after them, clambering up on Raph’s free shoulder.

[Part 3]

#turtle baby casey Jr #cass apocalyptic series #rottmnt #hahaha he's so cute and sweet and not the bringer of chaos at all :)#*pets casey's mug* shhhh soon you will be unleashed upon the unsuspecting city #he is going to give so many uncles/father figures heart attacks <3 #my writing #there will be a part 3 #it technically already exists‚ i just want to stay ahead of what I have written #i will probably eventually put this up on ao3 too im just being lazy

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cedar-sunshine · 21 days

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writer intro!

making a real one this time! I'll probably pin this one haha

Me!

My name is Sunny, I use he/they pronouns primarily, and I'm a queer writer. I'm 15, AuDHD, and a little chronically in pain. If you're reading this, tell me to drink water and stop doom scrolling so I can actually write like I want to, please

What I write!

I mostly write fantasy, although it very much ranges from urban to high and all the in betweens. My main WIP, Star, is technically not fantasy, but it IS apocalyptic, which is my second favorite genre. Technically, everything I write has an element of romance or is a romance, but the romance is never the forefront of the plot and is rarely only romantic (aroace romance writer time).

My current WIPs are

Star, a post-apocalyptic queer romance starring Mental Health Boy and Mental Health Boy #2. It's atmospheric and deals with a lot of Things. I like it a lot! It's my main WIP and I have the most done in it, the cast includes Tristan and Orion. I've described it as grumpy x sunshine vs cult and that's still accurate

The comic I keep referring to as '🔆', a queer fantasy comic with lumberjanes vibes. Some guys at a summer camp mess with magical stuff, it's very soft and sweet and escapist. I could call it sunset island? Or sunflower?

The shepherd/shapeshifter romance that I also don't have a name for, some political and cultural allegories along with a very strong dose of Cool Magic Bullshit and also Sheep. Starring a dog that used to be a person but is now literally just a dog, a person that used to be a person and is now a person who has grown as a person, and a shapeshifter who's like if a manic pixie dream girl was a gay man with no impulse control and strong emotions.

Science fiction Australia situation! 100 criminals get (consentually) sent to a superhabitable planet to prepare it for a human colony, the trip should take 150 years but something goes wrong and they end up making an emergency landing (read: aimed crash) on a smaller habitable planet leaving only 9 alive of the original 100. And humanity's already forgotten about them after nearly 120 years, so... found family queer bullshit, I think a majority of the characters aren't fully human including 1 squid person with bright colors, weird eyes, transparent skin and very strange hair, 1 robot made of pieces of magnetic metal so small they're basically magnetic fluid, 1 Guy with synthetic parts and a cool tail, 1 mildly mad scientist-esque dude that can only be described as if a person was a seal with maned wolf hardware, lots of microplants around a natural frame who is a hacker and diplomat, a mix between a fossa/civet type thing and a human, and a Guy with cool ears and a non-human genetic disease. Only two people bit don't worry they're cool too (autistic mechanic who likes engineering more than people and space pirate emo boy with a lot of grief and anger at the System). Most likely includes a polycule because I can't choose who should be dating who (if you have an opinion, look for my poll a while ago)

#writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #ocs #my ocs #writing blog #writerscommunity #writeblr intro

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bucketinyourwalls · 1 year

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2!Postal Dude Headcanons <3

Summary:

With this version of 2!Postal Dude consists of a mix of my own projections, random stuff I thought of whenever bored, and just how I generally see him. Based on my first run with him, and a mix of the wiki. Anyone that wants to add these to their own lists feel free! :D

General:

Goofy as hell. Still just as insane as the others, but takes it all less seriously.

Either has a list or small journal he carries on him all the time just filled with one-liners, also carries a pen so he can write down any new ones he thinks of.

Fucking dumbass.

Not the smartest guy around, but also not the dumbest. Decent knowledge with some things.

Sometimes pretends to be a full on moron just to annoy the person, or piss them off depending on if it's someone he likes or hates.

Knowledgeable in some subjects, but only if it’s something he has a genuine interest in.

Random hyperfixation on things. Tries to keep himself focused on one or two things at a time and tries to balance everything out, but always fails.

Favorite aesthetics consist of cyberpunk, post-apocalyptic, feralcore, bastardcore, and post-punk.

Feral bastard.

Bites people. Started out as a joke but was slowly integrated into his life.

Humor’s all over the damn place. Mix of whatever he can find on Tumblr and shows like South Park and Beavis and Butthead.

Has a Tumblr and Twitter account. Both just so he can watch everything unfold and doesn’t bother to post anything.

Following list for Twitter mostly consists of gimmick accounts, some of it wholesome, and others being shit he just decided was funny.

Personality built around others' perception of him, whether people he actually knows or just those on the internet.

Personality changes often, but keeps certain aspects for each one.

Bit of a people pleaser.

Mood is always randomized for each day. One day he could be the most calm and patient man in Paradise, and the next he could go on a massacre.

Mood really depends on his morning. Slight inconveniences do have the potential to fuck it all up if there was a major one before, but not on their own.

Very patient with people when younger, but that patience has slowly degraded over the years.

Would never snap at anyone when younger, maybe a few passive aggressive comments.

But now with the degraded patience, much more prone to snapping at people.

Animal lover. Always making sure Champ gets pets and food before he goes off to do his errands and will do his best to take care of strays.

After the beginning cutscene near the start of the game with him kicking Champ for pissing in front of him felt a fuck ton of guilt for the rest of the day. After he got home made sure to do his best to make it up to Champ through whatever means necessary.

Type of video games that he plays is a healthy mix of horror such as Silent Hill and Resident Evil, indie games like Cult of the Lamb and Hollow Knight, and of course shooter games like DOOM and the Call of Duty series.

For Cult of the Lamb he definitely named the cult after himself. Once tried to mod the game himself to add in or replace the decorations to better fit himself but that never ended up happening.

Just about grew up with horror. During highschool he had a fake ID so he could see the Rated R movies without having to bring an adult with him, or would just sneak in (and get caught).

Holds the DOOM series close to his crack-filled heart, with his favorite being the 1993 DOOM as a mix of nostalgia and everything that could be done. Always discovering new secrets on every playthrough.

Probably plays Call of Duty a bit less than the others, and mostly consists of him playing online and just insulting everyone since it’s fun to see their reactions. Barely pays attention to any of the campaigns.

Bisexual and Pangender <3

Age being 27 during the events of Postal 2 (no clue if he has a canon age so for the time being I’m sticking to that).

Music:

Mostly metal and rock.

Korn, Avenged Sevenfold, Rob Zombie, Dope, Limp Bizkit, Skillet, Seether, Slayer, etc.

Favorite songs with them consisting of: “Y’all Want a Single?” by Korn, “Rollin (Air Raid Vehicle” by Limp Bizkit, and “6 Gun Quota” by Seether.

Also has a few other songs in there that seem much out of place, either because he thought it’d be funny or just from him genuinely enjoying them.

Few examples being the “Bisexual Anthem” by Domo Wilson, “Material Girl” by Saucy Santana, “Masquerade” by siouxxie sixxta, ect.

Sings in the shower, most of the time keeps it quiet but will sing loudly as hell just to drive people crazy.

Cannot be trusted with the aux cord.

God help you if you’re on a road trip and he gets a hold of the cord.

Credits:

Credit for both dividers go to @kawaii-lau, after a bit of scrolling finding some dividers saw that they had some cool stuff, so check them out! <3

#postal #postal 2 #postal dude #running with scissors #rws #postal 2 dude #headcanon #just random shit I thought of instead of thinking of headcanons for Phillip Graves #I know he does say that he doesn't like video games but I'm willing to ignore that <3 #and sorry for this writing being incoherent as hell

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