#i remember when i first saw them in the trailers way before the game came out i was like ''aw they'd be a cute couple'' but then yknow. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chronically-ghosted · 5 months

Text

stay gold, baby boy

rating: 18+ (expliiiiicit)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: almost 6K

summary: six months into your friends-with-benefits situation, you institute a new game. A gold star on the board every time Dieter is a good boy. Today, he gets bingo . . . for wearing real pants.

warnings: friends with benefits (with more feelings), oral (m receiving), dom/sub dynamics (guess who subs today!), talks of edging, hair pulling, creampie, piv sex, praise kink, my mother raised me to have better taste in men but fuck it

a/n: remember when i posted this picture? And then this one? Remember how you could hear me yelling from space? Well, @sp00kymulderr has added fuel to the fire – Dieter and stickers. I can’t explain myself except that I was horny and I wanted to take his pants off with my teeth. So I did.

✨gif credit goes to the ever incredible, talented, and enabler of my dieter fantasies @perotovar! she saw me floundering with the header and immediately was like 'hold please i can make his baby cow eyes even better'✨

🤍Masterlist

With your foot on the low table, your ass firmly planted on the middle poofy cushion of the dumpster bin couch at the back of the trailer, thumbnail nibbled between your teeth, you have to admit it’s starting to get a little embarrassing. It’s honestly such a bad look.

Not that he would ever shame you for it. In fact, he’d probably like it.

And it’s not like you waited for him here all day. You had things to do as one of the co-screenwriters on this film. You had things to do and people to see and stuff to organize – all of which had nothing to do with Dieter fucking Bravo.

Okay, so a lot of it actually had to do with him. Lots of scene rewrites, lots of notes from the studio, lots of instances where the two of you had to put your heads together and come up with a solution that made the studio happy and didn’t make you want to claw your eyes out artistically speaking.

Which had led to this.

And the past six months of whatever this is. Working together led to seeing each other (outside of work), to eating with each other, to fucking each other – with the line firmly drawn there.

Whatever you may say about Dieter, the man could compartmentalize in a way that would make Marie Kondo weep with joy. By the way he treated you on set, no one in their right mind would ever have guessed he knew what you looked like naked. Or that he knew your left nostril twitched just before you came.

The same could be said for you too. Out of boredom one morning in the grocery store, you bought a trashy magazine with his face emblazoned across the top – Dieter Bravo and His Lonely Hearts Club. You weren’t one for the gossip rags, but flipping through it, not a single one of his “club members” mentioned his raging praise kink. You bought the damn thing on the spot, giving them all a consolation prize of some sort. Sorry, ladies, guess I win. Ha. Ha.

But, at the edge of the cushion, eyes occasionally flicking between the door and the failing darkness outside, you didn’t feel much like you’d won anything.

In fact, you’d lost. Big time. When all of this had been your stupid idea in the first place.

It had been your idea (and your initiative) to buy a packet of gold star stickers. Like the kind teachers use with their first graders. Actually, exactly like the ones teachers use for their first graders. You couldn’t form words when the woman at the education supply store ringing you up asked, “oh, what grade do you teach?”. You just tossed a twenty at her and booked it, your face painfully hot for a fairly innocuous purchase.

But all of that was his fault for dropping a praise kink and a teacher kink on you all at once the night after you jokingly spanked him with a ruler in front of the director, in-front of his co-star, because he wouldn’t agree to a line change, and he had to excuse himself from the room.

A month later and he forgoes touching himself for a gold star. He agrees to your line changes without argument for a gold star. He picks you up in the morning and drives you home at night for a gold star (you could drive yourself, but there’s always that last minute thing you need to talk to him about so you do it just because it’s easier, really).

He lets you come, over and over again, and keeps nothing for himself – all for a gold star.

Someone is bound to figure it out. They have to. Six months in and you’re getting sloppy. Obvious. What the fuck would you be doing in his trailer at seven o’clock at night after a full day of shooting unless you’re fucking him?

But you, worryingly, can’t find it in you to care.

You had lost your mind, that’s what you lost. Because tonight is the night Dieter gets his final gold star. It’s his reward but you’re about to vibrate out of your skin with want.

(It didn’t matter that you hadn’t seen each other in two weeks and by the third day, an ache had settled in behind your breastbone, one that clutched your phone in your hand, and forced your eyes to the screen every minute, checking for a new text message.

He called on day five, by the way.)

Your neck snaps up when you hear voices outside of the trailer. Laughter, his.

You suddenly feel the need to flatline against the floor in case anyone might see you.

Fuck, and how are you supposed to explain yourself if the someone he is with follows him into the trailer? Too many frightfully bad scenarios and you’re rooted to the floor, unable to make a single decision.

The metal latch clinks and his trailer door swings wide open.

“Yeah, man, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

You can hear a deep, “see ya” from the other side (maybe Daryl from craft services?) and the scrap-metal trailer squeaks, as the lock clicks shut.

Dieter scratches his cheek, surveying the trailer as if some part of him knows something is different, but his conscious mind can’t figure it out.

Until he turns. And nearly leaps out of his skin.

“Fuckin’ – what are you doing in here? Wait – I thought you left town to scope out the new location in San Diego.”

You want to answer him. You know how – open your mouth and tell him the trip’s been delayed for a few days, nothing serious, timeline bullshit – but you can’t.

It’s officially embarrassing.

It’s embarrassing how turned on by Dieter Bravo you are.

Hair in all kinds of directions, skinny cloth bracelet loose around his wrist, he had pushed up the sleeves of his henley shirt, exposing the thickly drawn triangle over his forearm and the clear one near his wrist. His hand with the rings hangs by his side and something inside of you silently whines.

But what really sets you off, what really makes this embarrassing and terrible because there’s no bluffing here, no hiding your cards and folding – nothing you can do to keep spit from flooding your mouth the longer you look –

He’s wearing pants.

Black with loose belt loops. Zipper and all. A silver button sitting between his hips. Fuck. Just like you told him to. Fuck fuckfuck.

You’re briefly aware when he says your name and you have to make a physical effort to tear your eyes away from that glinting silver eye winking up at you.

Dieter’s frowning, knowing silence isn’t really your thing.

“Are you okay? Why are you –,”

As though it had called his name, his gaze drifts from your face to the table between you and him. Where his scorecard rests with four stars in the Good column, and shockingly, none in the Bad.

His mouth parts, eyes going dark, as the realization hits him like a mack truck.

“Delays,” you say suddenly, preemptively, knowing that normal people usually have some sort of preamble before tearing each other’s clothes off. You stand up a bit straighter, tilt your jaw away from him, gaze leveling him from the end of your nose. You have got to get this thing under control. “Frank ran into some scheduling issues with the boat for the lake scene so, until further notice, the trip to San Diego has been delayed.”

He blinks slowly as if he’d been struck over the back of the heat, mouth parted. He has such fucking gorgeous, fucking perfect lips –

“So you’re here?” he asks, his voice low, disbelieving.

You scoop up the scorecard and step over the table, your shoes long since gone. It’s like his vision narrows the closer you come; he is transfixed, gaze on you as if molded at the seams, as you step up to him. You tap him on the chest once with the corner of the scorecard, excitement and nerves and that ache making you tremble despite your confident appearance.

“So I’m here.”

“On the last day of the week.” Words thick, as if all the moisture had been sucked out of his mouth.

“On the last day of the week.”

“When I,” he swallows thickly, “when I should get my reward.”

God, this kind of power trip should not be making you this wet.

You lift your gaze from his chest, taking in his beautifully dumb-struck face.

“You will.” You nod. “And do you know why?”

His breath quickens, lip between his teeth, when you scratch off the final star from the package and stick it to the Good column.

“Because I was a good boy?”

You toss the scorecard behind you, it clatters onto the table, and you cup the back of his hot neck.

“Because you were a very good boy.”

He stumbles back, knees unsteady, when you kiss him. You see his eyes a split second before you close yours and hot electricity swoops down to the pit of your stomach. It would be mortifying if you just fucked him right here and now – he does deserve something extra special – but fuck – you want his whole hand inside of you.

His warm palm slides across your jaw, pulling you into him, and Dieter breathes, deep and long, inhaling as much as he can. You don’t think he realizes that he’s picked you up off the ground with his arm around your back until he opens his eyes, vision hazy and off-center.

“Go lock the door, baby.”

He nods and puts you back down. You slip off your jacket as he bolts the trailer door shut.

Dieter’s mouth drops open when he turns around and sees you on your knees.

Shit, you should have stolen some knee pads from the costume department.

“Really?”

You smile at him because he asks like a kid that just got offered a puppy for Christmas. You reach towards him and he takes your hand, unsteady on weak knees

“For as long and as much as you want.”

You palm him and Dieter groans, mouth-closed at the sensation, the hard ridge of the metal zipper not one he is entirely familiar with. At least, not like this. Beneath the warm press of your palm, you feel him thicken, harden, and you press more, digging your fingers into his thighs. The muscles in his legs tense, his mouth falls open, as his hips cant forward, desperate for the new weight of the zipper.

“And I won’t make you wait, Dieter,” you say, eyes tripping up from where your hand sits, up to the flash of exposed tummy where his pants have ridden down and his shirt slid up, into his almost surprised gaze. “You’ve been very good, wearing this for me, but I want you to learn why it’s important to wear pants with buttons.”

“I-I t-t-thought,” he tries, voice abruptly cutting off when you nuzzle the constrained bulge in his pants. He tries again, eyes slamming shut as if to stifle the sensation of your warm breath so near to where he needs you the most. “I thought i-it was so I d-din’t – didn’t look bad.”

Your face still pressed into his crotch, you briefly massage his calves, then the backs of his thighs. You cup the curve of his ass through the starchy back pockets, which is remarkably prominent now that he’s in something else than baggy sweatpants.

You shake your head, nose dragging along his hot length, against the space between his hip bone and his cock, smiling.

“Baby, you know I like how you look. I always want you to be comfortable.” You look up and meet his eyes. The remaining brown not yet wholly consumed by a blurry, heated darkness softens. Somewhere beneath the hazy, disarming feelings of lust currently filling his head like a bike tire, he’s still your Dieter. Or – well, wait – at least the Dieter you know. The Dieter you have impossibly fun times with. The Dieter who makes you laugh like no one else. The Dieter that can make you fall apart until you’re a gooey, dripping mess and he still manages to stitch you back together. The Dieter that keeps you up at night thinking he might possibly want something more. “But this is so much more fun.”

Grounding your chest against his thighs, holding yourself against him as leverage, you sink your teeth into the corner of the fabric fastening his pants together. Eyes up at him again, you tug and his cock is pushed up against your tits from the force of the pull. He rocks forward, an airy gasp escaping his mouth, and the button gives, the lip of the fabric sliding back as the silver disk slips through the hole. Now your touch is unimpeded by rough fabric when you lean forward and kiss him just below the waistband of his black boxers.

It takes you a second to realize that Dieter Bravo is wearing underwear at all and you smirk up at him.

Something about your gaze makes the tips of his ears go red, as if he had been caught being very naughty. His big hand cups from your jaw to your ear, as if trying to placate you, beg you not to be mad this close to his cock.

“You said I had to dress u-up,” he says, eyes wide and round. God, he’s trying to be so good. One week of the rating system and Dieter Bravo is a trembling mess. Despite your wildly beating heart, you smirk, your thighs shaking briefly at the sudden rush of tenderness you feel for the man in front of you. You hide your own blush by mouthing that open spot just below his tummy and above his cock, wetting the black material with your tongue. Before he can whine about it, you pull back just barely, enough to curl your fingers around both his black underwear and the pants he wore for you. Just as you begin to pull down, you nip the zipper between your teeth and slowly, slowly, rubbing your nose against him, tug the metal teeth apart. His pants open and Dieter groans loudly. He’s already so sensitive.

For a mouthy, ego-driven bastard, he really did have a magnificent cock. Flushed at the base, thickest you’d ever had inside you, and he’s leaking silvery threads from the head. The vein thickly pulsating on the side makes you wonder how he hasn’t passed out from all the blood rushing to his cock.

You lick that vein, that beating pulse, and his knees buckle. His massive hand grips your shoulder and Dieter shakes his head, his mouth wrenching open.

“Please, please — mhmm — don’t tease. I-I can’t – you haven’t – please.”

As if you would be cruel to him. You feel rather dizzy, elated on the idea that you wield this much power over him. That he trusts you with all of him. There it comes again, that arching ache in your chest.

“I’m just trying to get myself ready for you,” you confess quietly. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

Dieter swallows something large in his throat, panic receding from his eyes. His smile is small and his touch on your cheek is light.

“I know.”

And you weren’t lying. You’d never forget the sound of your jaw popping and cracking the morning after you sucked him off three times before you let him come. Dieter is shockingly big, annoyingly only when he uses it against you or makes you tell him over and over just how big he is before giving it to you. For now, you just want to remind him how very appreciative you are that he gives it to you at all.

Eyes decidedly looking away from the warmth on his face, you squeeze the backs of his thighs as you relax your jaw as much as you can. Above you hear him huff with his mouth shut as you start to take him in, your tongue wetting that soft skin on the underside of his cock. One move forward and you’ve wet him halfway, tongue massaging that vein. Another drop of your head and you’ve taken him completely.

“Fuck,” Dieter murmurs, the hand on your shoulder tightening. Your heart pounds in your chest all the harder when he takes his other hand and knots your hair with his fingers. By the twitching of his thighs beneath your palms, you know it’s taking every ounce of his restraint to not buck his hips forward. “That’s it that’s my girl you take me so fucking good you feel so fucking good.”

The thing about your mouth that is markedly different from your pussy: you can’t release your gag reflex to take more of him. But fuck, you want him to fuck the back of your throat – you just might drown before it happens.

He smells surprisingly clean as your nose inches closer and closer to his skin. With each pull, you slide your tongue down the other side, until it pokes through and licks where you haven’t reached with your mouth yet, inches from his pelvis. He shudders when you use the tip of your tongue.

“Oh my god, your mouth, baby, your mouth.” The words dribble out of his slack mouth, fingers flexing in your hair as if he can mimic pushing your head down further. You pull all the way off him, tongue catching the rim of his cock and he drops his head back against his shoulders and moans. The sound of it makes your pussy throb and you breathe out your nose to stifle your own noises. This is about him. He did good. He was a good boy the whole week.

You replace your mouth with your hand. Sufficiently wet from the way you slobbered all over his cock, you use a fist around his flushed head to smear pre-cum all the way down to the base of him. You brush his balls with your knuckles, just as you fit the tip between your lips, sucking – and Dieter bucks, hard.

“Ngh – shit! S-sorry!” His nails dig into his thighs, eyes squeezing shut as silvery threads spurt out from his cock.

Maybe you’d gone too far with the whole sticker thing and he really thought this was another test. His cheeks are burnt pink, his chest heaving and it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

“Dieter,” you cry softly, gently, comfortingly. He still doesn’t open his eyes, not even when you resume stroking him. You lick the soft skin of his balls and his gasp punches the air out of his lungs, his eyes splitting open. He looks down at you, thighs trembling and you squeeze him gently. Not to edge him or punish him, but to make this last a bit longer for him. “Dieter, take your shirt off and sit down.”

He can’t move fast enough. He yanks the henley over his shoulders, the collar scraping his hair up in wild directions. He goes to sit but his thighs are shaking too much and he just sort of tumbles onto his ass. Smiling, you take your own shirt off, hoping to save this particular bra reveal for another time, but fuck, this time is as good as any. Despite his panting and squirming, his gaze rolls from your face to your tits. Emerald green with black lace, this is far too nice for a work bra and it properly communicates to him that you were going to fuck him whether or not he was going to get that final gold star. The realization is visible as it crosses his mind, bleeding hungry black in his eyes.

You take off his pants all the way, before sliding your own jeans down and to the floor. His roving gaze catches the matching panties and the noise in his throat is deep, like a smothered grunt.

“Now, I’m going to suck you off no matter what,” you say as you crawl in between his legs, before leaning back and sitting on your heels. You smooth your hands down his thighs, near his red, stark cock, but not touching. Dieter’s breathing hitches in anticipation, not sure where to put his hands or his gaze. “But I want you to answer one question for me first.”

He nods rapidly, spreading his knees further for you as if to remind you there’s other places he could be fucked.

“Why did you think I was going to punish you today?”

You’ve asked this question paraphrased a dozen times, usually when you both know the answer: he came without asking, or he came by himself, or any of the dozen reasons Dieter liked to push your buttons, only for you to break him as far as he can go. But today, there’s no sultry edge, no double meaning. Your question is sincere and it takes him a moment to understand. He swallows as his eyebrows tug down on his forehead, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes before a look of uncertainty crosses his face.

“We’ve never had sex just to have sex.” He says it like a question. He settles into the floor one hand going behind his head, the linear tattoo on his forearm dark like a third eye. “Not that I’m complaining but it’s always a competition, or because we’re bored, or you wanna work out some personal shit because of the costume department. I know this is my reward, but I figured there had to be some kinda catch to it.”

You frown deeper than him. “There’s no way we haven’t had normal sex.”

Something like a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Define normal sex.”

Now it’s your turn to go warm across the cheeks. “I mean, like . . . outside of . . . our roles. Where there aren’t roles at all. It’s just . . .”

You break off for the third time, the look in his eyes forcing you to snap your mouth shut before you say something incriminating like, just us.

Dieter shakes his head. “No, we haven’t.”

“You’re telling me in six months, that’s never happened once?” You adjust on your heels and cross your arms. “It’s not like you can remember every time we’ve had sex.”

“I do.” This, coming from him, is not a question. It’s an irrefutable statement that you don’t seem able to refute with a no you don’t. There is no room for arguing.

Driving right on through the heat of your cheeks, that ache returning, you shake your head. “Then doesn’t that get old? Having to play games every single time?”

Dieter pouts as he thinks, eyes on the roof of the trailer. “Sometimes, but I don’t mind. Not enough to want to stop fucking you.”

“So, after a week of nothing, you were totally willing to let me edge you within an inch of your life? Let me treat you badly?”

Dieter smirks and it suddenly feels like you’re the one under him. “Sure, but you like me too much to keep it going for too long. And you like watching me come.”

Your teeth grind together at this very bold accusation, your entire face blazing. Weren’t you supposed to be domming him today??

His feet slide out beside you and Dieter is the very picture of arrogance, his arm still tucked behind his head. He drums his fingers on his stomach.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he says, the smirk around his mouth soft, “I like you too.”

It doesn’t. Not really. Not when his words spear through you hot and hard, landing in your chest like a landmine. Fuck.

Fuck.

“Oh, so this is all for me, then?” You ignore the fact that you’ve slipped back into your role in active defiance of talking about this anymore, and crawl forward until your forearms frame his head. That teasing contentment fades from his face as he watches you, eyes following a line that only he can see from your nose, lips, chin, throat and tits. Your hair slips off your shoulder, darkening the light on his face when you straddle his waist. “But what about you? Don’t you want to come?”

He nods, slower than before, but only to keep from breaking eye contact with you. Light as feathers, Dieter trails his fingers up the backs of your thighs, over the curve of your ass, to settle into your hips. His mouth parts in anticipation, pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

“I do,” he says, rolling his neck as if he can see more of you this way. “I really fuckin’ do.”

“What a coincidence.” You shift down, dragging the wet patch on the emerald green underwear beneath your drooling cunt, shift until it slides across his half-hard cock and Dieter’s hands dig into your hips, a groan breaking off in the back of his throat. His eyes slip half-closed, a thick, smoky black enveloping that beautiful brown. “So do I.”

Grinding down over so slightly, you roll your hips once more – Dieter tenses, his hands easing to the tops of your thighs – before sitting back on his knees.

“Now relax, baby, you’ve earned it.”

You drop forward over his hips, open your mouth, and slurp him up between your lips.

The noise that comes out of his chest is broken, knocked loose, split down the middle. You take him all in one, down until your nose is tickled by his coarse hairs, and you swallow. He is immediately, instantly, rock hard and dribbling. You swallow again and his hands dive into your hair, knotting the strands around his fingers, the way a rider draws up the reins of his horse. He goads you down with just gentle pressure, needy and demanding all at once, and you take him, and you take him, and you take him until the blunt head prods the back of your throat and you gag, throat constricting, and Dieter’s eyes roll back in his head.

“Shit, that’s too fucking good.”

You breathe out your nose, pulling up just enough to keep him off your reflex, but instead you hollow out your cheeks and suck, tongue pressing up against him and around that hammering vein.

And here, here comes the sound you’ve wanted from him all night –

Dieter whines, high and keening, his neck straining, your skull pinching from where he pulls. Between your thighs, the emerald green is completely ruined, buffed out dark in the wet.

The vein throbs again and you nearly drop onto your elbows, not caring if you choke or drown or sputter, you want him in your mouth, you want that salty, gooey taste of him that you find you can’t seem to lick up enough. You want him inside you –

With a grunt that morphs into a groan as it rises up his chest, he tugs hard enough on your hair that the pain splits your mouth open, head tugged back enough that he slips out of you, a thread of pre-cum from your puffy lips to the tip of his blunt head.

You lied. This wasn’t entirely for him.

You can feel your lips twist into a snarl. “Dieter, what are you –,”

He kisses you with such a force, that noise in his chest is transferred to yours, a collision that sparks a causal nexus and his own desperation bleeds with your own. The kiss is messy, dizzying, spit and pre-cum smearing across swollen lips and wet tongues. He twists his fingers deeper into your hair, as if he can consume you through the bowl of your skull.

Your name is something that tumbles, falls, drips from him, his mouth tilted a fraction of an inch away from yours. Eyes dark, full, a beast that howls for the moon in your eyes.

He’s going to fuck your brains out on the floor of this rickety-ass trailer.

Dieter tugs you forward, drags you onto your knees over him as he settles beneath you. Your fingers knock with his in a fight to reach your panties first, to shove them down your hips and thighs, get them to the floor.

Dieter’s flushed, pupils dark, big hands grappling against the weight of you as he pulls you onto him. You are so aroused, so sunken into the smoke of lust, you go as you are moved, his cock smearing apart your wet pussy. Dieter sits up, eyes locking onto where you’ve nearly become a single creature, and then he hesitates.

Sanity seems to ring his bell, for just a moment. Without waiting, he sucks two fingers into his mouth, coating them with his spit, and you can see what he’s about to do just before he moves. You shake your head, knees aching from carrying your weight against the flat trailer floor, and sit up off him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Don’t need it,” you mutter before licking into his mouth. He drops his head back to let you sink your tongue between his lips. Both hands wrapped around his jaw, you thumb his earring and he grunts out the side of his mouth. “I want –,”

His big hands settle and it’s like he dropped a thousand pound weight between your ribs. You drop, right onto him, his cock forcibly shoving you apart in a single thrust. Dieter barks out a moan, his hands clutching your spine, teeth going for your shoulder to muffle anything else that threatens to escape him.

You swear your nerves are on fire.

He always takes his time with you, for your benefit, and his. He can be maddening and incessant and demanding, right up until this part, the part where he could actually hurt you. Right then, he waits. Lets you come to him. Let you take as much as you want and he holds you tight.

But this, this is you taking all you want and then some.

In the split second you allow for your bodies to recognize the give and the take, the swell and the invasion, you meet his gaze.

No roles. No games. No landmines.

Exposure.

Blistering and brittle.

Safety.

You curl your toes underneath you, grip his shoulders, and slide up on an inhale. On an exhale, you thrust down and you don’t know who cries out louder.

Dieter pulls you to him, arm banded around your back, the other to balance as he leans back to meet your downward strokes with his upward thrusts. His fingers pinch the clasp of your bra and the straps slide off your shoulders, your frantic bouncing knocking those emerald cups loose.

“Oh, yeah, oh fuck yeah.” He mouths at your collarbone, tonguing the sweat that blooms across your skin. Your short huffs have your chest trembling, a shudder disrupting your breath when he uses the blunt edge of his teeth against the soft curve of your breast. His nose against your skin, he turns his head and licks your nipple into his mouth. He sucks, licks, your rapid rise and fall catching your sensitive peak against the tops and bottoms of his teeth. He uses the barest hint of pressure and your back arches. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, repeating that same pattern with his tongue, while his fingers flick your hardened bud.

You think you’re going to melt, fracture and ooze into this hot pool of pleasure that hums between your legs.

“Fuck, Dieter,” your own voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high, cut short every time his hips meet yours in a harsh slap, “I can’t –,”

He rubs up against something truly devastating inside of you and immediately your legs give out. You topple into him, arms around his neck, nose pressed up against his jaw. You feel his overheated skin, a balm, a solidifying force, against your cheek. The whirling inferno in your head soothes. A drop of sweat from his hairline trails down by your eye and you lick it.

“Make me come, Dieter,” you whisper for him, of him, beg in a way that only he can hear. You nuzzle his earring and he keens. “Please – I need it – n-n-need you.”

Open-mouthed, breath hot, flush down to his chest, he slithers the hand against your back between your warm bodies and finds your clit. Drags his thumb across it as his hips pound up into you – you can’t hear what he says in your ear, the edge you’re dangling over loud and pulsing – and then there’s a softness against your throat.

The white spark between your thighs erupts and you come so hard you scream. A release. Controlled and contained brightness now spilling out everywhere, you can feel it as you soak his lap. It drips and winds down, and it drunkenly slides off you. Finally, you curl into him, a muddled tingle radiating out across your nerves.

You sink into your skin again and hear him, still whispering, still talking.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you come it’s okay baby I’ve got you I’ve got you I’m here – I’m gonna – g-gonna – oh, shit,”

His hips thrust up one more time before a full body shudder yanks his words and the air right out of his mouth. You melt as his cum floods your insides, the warm pulses intoxicating in the place he so forcefully claimed for his own. His shoulders curved towards you, his hand pinches the knot of your spine as if to steady himself, palm scalding against your skin. In your exhaustion, your sweaty forehead falls against his.

He doesn’t seem to mind.

Seconds mold into minutes, minutes into maybe hours then days.

Dieter’s trembling elbow finally weakens and with his arm around your back, he tips you both backwards.

His cock rubs up inside of you in a new way and your cunt clenches involuntarily. You both groan when his cum leaks out of you, squeezed out by the contraction. You shift your hips to lay fully on him, and his cock slides out, but his arm around you remains.

It remains long after your breathing settles, long after the sweat dries and your exposed skin grows cold. The longer you lay together, the more you feel he’s going to start stroking you, touching you in a way that a fuck buddy shouldn’t. But he doesn’t. He keeps you close but doesn’t move.

The feeling, the ache in your chest. It’s soothed and hastened by the beating of his heart beneath yours, your ear lying flat against his chest. It beats so loudly for you.

For some unfathomable reason, you glance up at the window. It’s dark out, the sun set and gone. For all you know, you two might be the only two people on the entire lot.

“Dieter.” His name sticks in your mouth. “Dieter, I –,”

“Five stars?”

You blink, lifting your head for the first time in ages, sweat on his skin almost suctioning your ear to his chest. He’s grinning, curls matted and damp against his forehead.

He reaches up to the table behind him and snags that stupid bingo card, along with that packet of shiny gold star stickers.

This feeling, you can contain it.

For now.

Smirking down at him, you peel off one of the bigger stars and with your thumb, you press it into the center of his forehead.

“Five stars, Dieter. Five star dick.”

His smile widens.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #the bubble fanfic #the bubble 2016 #the bubble fic #the bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #the bubble

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gaysheep · 7 months

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now my experiences might not be universal but as far as im concerned you asked far fewer questions about video games when you were a kid. the first time you encountered waluigi in mario tennis or mario party or whatever other mario spinoff you encountered him in for the first time because they only put him in spinoffs you didnt say "who's this goofster stomping around like he's a member of the crew?" you said oh ok that's waluigi i guess.

super smash bros melee the crossover fighting game starring all your favorite nintendo characters (well pikachu was second party but thats pikachu everyone knows who pikachu is) had a whole three characters who nobody in north america knew who the fuck they were, two of which were from games that weren't localized at all and one of which was from a game that was enough of a commercial failure in the united states hardly anyone remembered it a little under a decade later. now to be fair ness was in the one on the n64 also but its not like he'd gotten another game. "oh earthbound's failure was overexaggerated" you say that but my brother lived the super nintendo era and not a single one of his gaggle of friends had even heard of earthbound it was not on anyone's radar come on. but no one said "hey these aren't iconic nintendo characters" we all went "well i guess they can be here too" and now we say "you cant main a smash character if you havent played their game" like we werent saying "thats marth i dont know who the fuck he is but hes like a brother to me" in 2001

youd just go into the store and look at a game's boxart and decide you wanted that one and yknow what it usually worked out for you. i did this longer than you'd expect too i was in 7th or 8th grade and thought to myself "yknow i havent really played any console rpgs lately" so i looked up "rpgs for the wii" and i saw a gamefaqs rec thread or some shit where a guy went "well xenoblade is coming out." and i looked up xenoblade and found virtually no information about it other than that it was coming out and thought to myself "yeah xenoblade... that looks like an rpg i could get into." and you know what i did? i preordered it this may very well have been the first game i ever preordered i thought "well they were talking about it on gamefaqs so it must be a big deal i wanna make sure i can play it day 1" but i didnt need to reserve a copy of fucking xenoblade chronicles the store probably could have given me every copy in stock for no profit loss when i walked in there with my gir t shirt and my little receipt because i was one of all three and a half people in north america who played this game counting the gamefaqs guy. and xenoblade chronicles knocked me flat on my ass it was one of the best games i'd ever experienced i'd played plenty of story heavy rpgs before but this one hooked me in a way none of them ever had.

fast forward around 4 years the 4th smash game comes out but this one was different. this was when we really started to go in on the crossover fighters, character slots were now real estate that potential entrants had to earn the right to occupy as if one game ago they didnt make a failed NES peripheral a playable fighter and give it an emotional subplot in subspace emissary. no longer was it "cool i guess this guy is here" it had become "who the hell is this and what do they think they're doing in smash bros?"

and thus came that fateful night when amidst crazy new character reveals like the fucking wii fit trainer they unveil a cinematic trailer and announce that shulk from xenoblade chronicles was joining the fight. to which the unilateral reaction was "who the fuck is shulk why was this trailer framed like we already have a rapport with shulk i dont know this man why does he say stuff like 'im really feeling it?'"

but i knew who shulk was.

#mine

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mythicalartistx · 5 months

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The real reason Yozora is the way he is and why he looks like Sora and Riku Hybrid...

Yozora is a mysterious character after all and we don't know a lot about him.

He is first shown through Toy Box as a "video game" character that looks insanely close to Riku as stated by Donald and Goofy while Sora mentions he never looked that good looking in belief it is him.

But to Yozora that game world is his reality— the place he came from.

At the end of the game when Sora identifies him, Yozora is surprised because he recognizes him since that is not his true form. And Yozora just knows to save "Sora"

Whether if it is actually Sora or if Nameless Star true name is Sora who knows...

However if it is the Sora we all know, then Yozora could be tasked with saving Sora for the reason that his form is missing and he takes parts of other people's to form who he is.

That's why he looks like both Riku and Sora. He has parts of them within him.

And then there is Versus XIII— a game that never saw the light of day. Tetsuya Nemora was working on it before he was unable to finish the project and it got turned into what people know as FF14 but Versus XIII story seemed different from FF14.

What does this have to do with Yozora?

Well Yozora seem to share some traits from that game.

Quadratum for instance is a place thought of for those who might have died. As we all know, Strelitzia is there and we all remember her death and disappearance from the mobile games Union χ. Now Versus XIII seemed to do with death as well. But that's not it, after the Yozora battle there is an ending clip of Yozora in a car ride.

This car ride is almost a duplicate shot to shot of a scene in Versus XIII with Noctis and his driver. Yozora turns the same way and makes the similar expressions and it's a bit insane how similar it is.

So what does this mean for KH4?

Yozora is insanely mysterious and is probably going to be important. He wants to save or help Sora but he might do it in a way that's not the best. I feel that Yozora wants to get what he want and that means retrieving his form again and "saving Sora" whatever that means to him.

He is probably like a KH1 Riku or even 358/2 days Riku where he is a bit cold, arrogant—"in belief he is right," and just wanting to help Sora. But combine that with Squall/Leon and you get Yozora personality.... Well probably.

In Riku dreams, he feels the gaze of someone watching him— Yozora who he also gotten parts of his form from. The interaction of the two Yozora and Riku could lead to some interesting possibilities. Well they're both trying to save Sora—or possibly a Sora since we don't know if he's the same Sora, given Yozora's surprised expression when Sora tells him his name being Sora.

Riku will go to Quadratum and find Sora and probably Yozora as well. There is even a good chance that Riku will find and speak to Yozora first. And it will be interesting.

We don't have a lot of information, so he is mysterious but that just makes us want to know more. So until we get a trailer, picture, or interview for now he is just Yozora the one trying to save Sora and seems to be connected to Missing Star.

#kingdom hearts #kh4 #kingdom Hearts 4 #yozora #kh yozora #versus xiii #kh sora #kh riku #sora #riku #Yozora is just really interesting #Also his eyes being two different colors #It would be chaos when he and Riku interacts though

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ghenry · 6 months

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Was recently replaying some of the No More Heroes games on Switch, and remembered the hype leading up to No More Heroes III. Do you remember any speculation or theories about the game leading up to it's release? I remember the big one was a leaked screenshot from one of the visual novel segments showing what seemed to be Young Harman Smith.

WARNING: This post contains spoilers for No More Heroes 3 as well as Flower, Sun, and Rain.

I remember that! I don't blame folks for thinking that.

I recall thinking it might be Aramata from Moonlight Syndrome, not that it would make much sense if it was.

Anyway, I recall a few other theories. A lot of people--including myself--were expecting appearances by the likes of Kusabi or Kuroyanagi. This speculation came from the end of the first NMH3 trailer from E3 2019 when Sylvia was calling out codenames at the end.

"The Tiger has awakened . . . red, green, dark, black, blood."

In The 25th Ward remake, as well as a few other stories Suda has written recently, many characters were given color codenames to represent them. Midori Midorikawa, a boss in NMH3, went by Green. Kuroyanagi goes by Black, etc. Of course, perhaps people--including myself-- just jumped the gun because now this can basically be a way of describing the alien goons and the multi-colored blood they tend to spill out.

A lot of us were also giving credence to Travis Strikes Again and how so many characters appeared in the visual novel segments, thinking everything was going to merge even more-so in NMH3. Although, Suda has said that he originally was going to have more connections, before they got cut.

I like to think is mostly because Suda can't retain rights to NMH so he'd probably rather wait for an IP he actually owns to encompass what he's established before. Either way, not a lot of this world-merging stuff really makes sense, so these days I'll take it or leave it. Suda has also stated he considers TSA a 'commemorative' title to Grasshopper, hence having so many characters invited to make cameos and such.

Here's one possible example of a removed cameo, the fine folks at believeinthe.net data-mined NMH3 and found a lot of unused emails. Here's one of them;

People that played Flower, Sun, and Rain can think of one particular talking alligator!

Screenshot from AdrianVG's dual-playthrough of FSR

I recall another theory, while not directly related to games outside of NMH, that Travis was going to essentially make amends with past villains like Destroyman and Kimmy in order to form his own team to take on Fu and his cronies. And not only that, but every new friend he'd make would utilize the NMH motel as their home base. This came from early previews showing Bad Girl and Shinobu had their own rooms there as well.

We thought this because one of the taglines from an earlier trailer;

From the first NMH3 Nintendo Direct Trailer, October 2020

"The Hood" as in people from Santa Destroy. Travis' hood. Didn't really happen, as Travis primarily fought everyone by himself. There was no real team-up until the near-end of the game.

I just remembered one last theory, that Tokio Morishima was in the game. This came from the very first piece of gameplay we saw all the way back in 2019.

From the NMH3 trailer first shown at The Game Awards 2019

I understand why people thought this, the spiky hair did remind me of Tokio.

Of course, what people didn't know at the time was that it was Henry, who was redesigned by Takashi Miyamoto, lead artist for The Silver Case and The 25th Ward.

At the very least, we did get to see previously established characters appear in NMH3, such as Midori Midorikawa, who Suda first wrote about back in 2018. Although the first time she was visually depicted was in the manga adapting that original story he wrote about 3 years later, but several months before No More Heroes 3 released.

And Kamui! At least a version of him, that whole thing is kind of finnicky. Also Notorious, from the Fire Pro Wrestling World DLC on PS4/PC.

These were the only theories I could recall myself. There could be more, but these were the ones I was most privy to. Thanks for your question!

#suda51 #grasshopper manufacture #nmh3 #no more heroes #no more heroes 3 #kill the past #The Silver Case #flower sun and rain #the 25th ward #Red Blue Green

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twotangledsisters · 10 months

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🧠 🎞 and 📚 for the tangled ask game

Oh, all of these are so good and thanks so much for asking but I do apologize in advance because that last one may get me rambling!

🧠- Random Tangled Headcanon you have?

Oh, this reminded me that a while back I did an entire post with head canons of all the cast!

It's a bit old, may need to re-visit that sometime in the future but the first on that list is the first headcanon that came to mind for me and one I reference often in my work!

It's the idea that the flower in Rapunzel's hair are hand-picked by Eugene every morning!

It started as Eugene giving flowers to his girlfriend because that's a normal couple thing to do! But Rapunzel being new to relationships didn't think to put the flowers in a vase so she'd start adding them right into her hair, a reminder of Eugene to bring with her throughouth her day!

And Eugene, of course, got into the habit of picking her fresh flowers every morning because only the best for his love!

I just think this is something they'd do!

🎞- Movie or Series?

If I had to choose I guess I'd say series, but honestly they're inseparable in my mind!

I only got into the series because I saw the movie in cinemas as a kid and it was one of my fave Disney films since! I remember that first trailer for Before Ever After on YouTube, the excitement!

I remember the first season which I watched on Spanish television. So excited to see Eugene, Rapunzel, the new characters! Attila! Seeing these background characters get extra screen time!

But if I had to choose, I have to say series because it's what drove me into fanfics, and tumblr and back into the fandom after so many years!

📚- Favorite Tangled Fanfic?

The idea of choosing just one... I don't think it'd even be honest for me to do so because it honestly depends on what I feel like! I don't have a singular fave but I'll try to keep the list short!

If I want some cute kid, gentle, Cassandra content, literally one of @frozenwolftemplar's fics, I can't even name a specific one because she has so many one-shots that are so beautifully written, so adorable, her Young Cassandra series though is my safe space! Lots of them center around Cass' childhood which I love, I have an entire page on my kindle of her one-shots and if I'm not misremembering I was reading her fics before getting back into commenting and interacting in the community. It's possible you could credit her I came to this fandom at all? After all, I needed cute one-shots which would help feed my desire for more tts content and her fics just suck you in!

If I feel up to a longer fics, to nobody's surprise as I've talked quite a bit about it in the past I'd have to point to Tangled: Between The Kisses by @the-writer1988 and @tangledbea. It's a full series re-imagining and it just takes so much time and care in flashing out so many different characters!

Although my all time fave character isn't in it, my other faces: Eugene, Arianna, Lance, they are not just in it but perhaps some of my fave representation of them in any fanfic!

The way they do POVs is so amazing! It's just a really good read, especially if you love New Dream, or any of the characters I just listed!

And having mentioned New Dream and having mentioned One-shots how can I not mention my fave short New Dream fics:

All at Once Everything is Different and Where I'm Meant to Be by @roygbivv

Look, if you love New Dream and haven't read them just do so! They're super short but they're beautifully written and for whatever reason, maybe the prose, maybe how gentle and thoughtful they are, I don't know, they just hit me really hard!

All of these fics are ones that occupy my mind even when I'm not reading, which let me tell you isn't easy! Simply because I have really bad memory so even a fic I enjoy a lot will very soon escape my brain, but these are the ones that outdid those odds!

It took a lot for me to reduce the list down this much because there's just so many amazing Tangled fanfics out there!

I really should post recommendations more often because so many fics do not get the attention they deserve! But I'm really scared I'd end up forgetting some really important ones or something.

For now, I do have my 'fanfic fanart' tag where I post my fanart sketchbook spread (or I should if I tag correctly), and hopefully the posts under that tag will only grow! (I have a few I'm just drumming up the bravery to post while they wait in drafts!)

But I'm always looking for new fics to read! Especially ongoing ones or shorter ones, as I'm a pretty slow reader! So if anybody has recs, please send them my way! (including your own fics, of course!)

And yeah, thank you so much for the ask and I apologize for getting rambly towards the end! It's just so hard to talk about fanfics without rambling because they're so good and there are sooo many!

I hope you're having a lovely day and have a lovely week!

#ask answered

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dailybayonetta · 1 year

Note

Dunno if somebody already came asking you this but, what do you really think about the graphics in Bayo3? They look very bland to me and somehow backtracked, even in the first preview trailer I was like "damn, this is not good". Look at Bayo2, a game from eight years ago, it still looking hella good and pretty, but Bayo3? Not even the hair moves or characters expression are giving that classic Bayonetta visuals. Honestly, for a rich company like Nintendo they should, y'know, gave more dedication on the graphics 💀(also, this is NOT a hate ask towards Bayo3, but comparing to the others two games in the franchise, this is the weakest in both graphics and gameplay)

Nope, actually so far noone talked about it! Yet! And yeah, I agree. Especially coming from someone who now used all three games on my pc by emulating them... Bayo3 is sooo rough. It's doesn't really holds up, even worse on handled mod. The way that wicked waves and wings look. At least it barely has fps problems like some other games (looks at smt5) or Astral Chain (that at least was running 30 fps only) so I guess sacrifices had to be made, so Bayo3 would run mostly 60fps. What also is so weird, not only Bayonetta 2 was literally made for WiiU which is even weaker system, but it runs perfectly on switch, in both handled and docked. And it looks fine in handled, unlike Bayo3 which cuts so many stuff. Thought If I had to guess porting already existing titles (bayo 1+2) is much easier than developing a game from the scratch on hardware? And switch isn't the easiet console to develop on, it's sure ain't no ps4/ps5/xbx1/xbxs and pc and etc. If to defend platinum somehow. But I think it's isn't just the graphic, it's just overall the artstyle (direction of artstyle?). Like, I get it, this game is departure for the series, but does it have to look so unisprised sometimes? So many empty space? Oh wow... destroyed Tokyo I guess. With roofs... REMEMBER WHEN WE WENT TO HELL???? Or visited ancient cities that looked unique and magic? Now we have anicent China and it's burning i guess :/ Oh look, there's an Egyptain lvl that contains three buildings and lots of sand to slide on, rocks and nothing else! Plus, yeah, the movement overall in cutscenes feels unnatural sometmes (my god did i felt so wrong when i saw how bayo1 bayo looks in bayo3 at the start and here i thought that bayo2 version of it was bad), and like Bayonetta cutscenes were always exgatarred, but this time it's not in a normal way? Again, the direction is all ovedr the place? Viola is overly animated, like her movement is so different from the rest of the cast, Bayonetta is mostly stiff I wouldn't say she feels as acrobatic or floaty. And like I said before, the script doesn't saves this mess either, you have this characters talk with each other but instead of having dialogue (hell it doesn't even need to be meaningful it can be just fun) they are like info-dumping or something (guess this also had to do with who's directing english adaptation this time around) To my suprise, I kind of disliked how Jeanne looked in the early trailers, but she actually looks fantastic (except the make up) and probably my favorite this time around. But her treatment is another story. And it's not even really Nintendo's fault, their current console has AND can handle beautiful games, I just think Platinum has quite massive ideas for action game and that requieres hardware that can handle and run it, switch isn't just build for that. Cause at the end of the day - it's handled system.

Plus, add to that, that currently it's quite common thing to go into more greedy / realistic style over the actual artstyle with a fun sense. I'll be forever mad that such good game as DMC5 got stuck in the most basic ass looking artstyle with scanned real people for characters and making it's locations and level design the most boring things ever in comparision to previous titles. Same goes for Baoy3.

#this turned... into a lot of words. sorry!#b3 #spoilers #(? just in case)#answered #anonymous

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cowboysandpilots · 11 months

Note

I saw your post asking for writing advice and as cliché as it may be, I’d love a story of Chrissy learning to play guitar and Eddie learning how to do a cheer.

You can use the fight song from a college and just copy their cheers if you can’t think of one and it would work bc that what most high schools do anyway.

(Omg I think this is so cute and I am king of cliches so I do not mind one bit. ❤️ Thank you for requesting it. I hope you like it.)

It started off as a little bit of a dare, a challenge. Chrissy was still giggling about Eddie's makeshift cheer while he was teasing her with leaves in his hair. That was months ago now, before they were so much more than drug dealer and scared girl who needed an escape.

"I bet you couldn't do a real cheer if you tried." She smirks, taking another drag from Eddie's hastily rolled joint. They're sitting on Eddie's couch, Chrissy with her legs over Eddie's thighs as they play a game of puff, puff pass.

"Okay, fine. I'll do one of your cheers if you let me teach you how to play a song on my guitar." He grins back.

"You got yourself a deal."

—

It takes exactly 3 days for Eddie to take this deal seriously. He was planning on just doing a silly little rah-rah routine like he had in the woods, but that was before he saw how serious Chrissy was. She came to his trailer every day after school and barely said hi to him before she was slipping his guitar strap over her head.

They started with strumming. Eddie stands behind her and plays the cords while she strums along to the beat of the song that's playing over his small stereo. It seems hard for her to keep up, and she keeps giggling, blonde curled strands of hair falling into her face whenever she lets her head fall down. Eddie doesn't mind; he's laughing right along with her.

"Go, go, go." He encourages, through his laugh, for Chrissy to give it her all as the song gets to the chorus, and both of them headbang while jumping up and down. It sounds horrible, and Chrissy misses some cues, but Eddie's never had more fun playing in his life.

Learning to cheer seemed to take Eddie a lot longer. See, the thing is, he wanted to learn how to do a cartwheel, to really show off, and it was terrifying and painful. He dragged Chrissy back out to the woods so no one could see them like they could if Eddie had tried it on the grass in front of his trailer.

He spent days trying to copy the way that Chrissy would show and instruct him on how to do a cartwheel. All in all, he got grass stains on his favourite jeans, and he thinks he may have fucked up his shoulder, or at the very least, bruised it because the next time his guitar strap rested there, it ached. Chrissy felt bad when he complained and told him they could just forget the whole thing, but Eddie refused. He wanted to prove to Chrissy and himself that he could do this.

"Hold up, wait a minute,

Let me put some spirit in it!

Hawkins Tigers break it down,

Knock this team straight out of town!"

Eddie felt so stupid saying that cheer, even in the middle of nowhere, but that was the one that Chrissy taught him, and she was laughing with him, not at him; so, stupid or not, he followed it all the way through to the cartwheel.

For the first, and last, time, Eddie actually lands it, and the way his blood is pounding in his ears drowns out Chrissy's clapping. His reward? A kiss that tasted like nothing but Chrissy's pink bubblegum lipgloss, and he thinks... maybe cheerleading isn't so stupid after all.

—

A/N- Hi, I'm so happy you're here. :) If you would like to support me and my writing, please remember to hit the reblog button, as Tumblr has no algorithm and likes (while appreciated) do nothing to get creators work seen. Since Tumblr is hiding all my posts with my Ko-Fi link, THIS is a list of things I need/want while I'm away at Uni if you would like a commission or just to support me. It is beyond appreciated but, of course, not required. ❤️ If you would rather just donate to my Kofi ($3), you can find the link to it through this link. Again, not required but more appreciated than you will ever know. I only have two and a half months before I can leave my abusive household. ☺️)

#eddie x chrissy #eddissy #hellcheer #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #stranger things #hellcheer fluff #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer fic #stranger things fanfiction #hellcheer ficlet #my writing

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longlivefanfic-net · 2 years

Text

Banished&Bloody: Eddie the Banished

Fic Summary: Post-Volume II. Eddie Munson wasn't dead when he was left in the Upside Down; well, he wasn't dead anymore. Steve Harrington has spent the days since they came back to Hawkins haunted by the idea that he could have saved Eddie--or at least died in his place. It quickly becomes clear that the Hawkin's group has to go back to the Upside Down and, when they do, they find an unfamiliar face. Vampire!Eddie Munson, Grieving Steve Harrington.

Chapter Summary/Content: Chapter 1 of 8. Eddie wakes up in the Upside Down and realizes he has to get back to Hawkins. Mentions of blood, grief, brief suicide mention. Extra angsty.

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: Listen. Listen. I want Vampire! Eddie so fucking bad. But I am also absolutely terrified of him. Also, writing this made me tear up bc this baby boy just deserved nice, happy things and instead he gets?? this?? This fic is going to be 8 chapters (I think), alternating Eddie/Steve POVs, and (should be) smut free (it just doesn't fit!!! idk! maybe I can work something in). I am also planning on still writing a few little smut pieces in between chapters (I have a Steve/Reader and Reader/Robin fic that I'm just waiting on my beta reader's response for before I post it)!!

Chapter One: Eddie the Banished

When Eddie’s eyes opened, the skies above him were black. He thought it was night, at first, then cloudy when he realized he couldn’t see any stars. When he saw the sky roiling overhead, he felt momentarily reassured. This wasn’t the first time he had gone on a bender and ended up waking outside, flat on his back in the woods or on a hill. But when streaks of lightning flashed the wrong way across the clouds, going straight across the throbbing mass of darkness instead of straight down, he recognized that he wasn’t in Hawkins–not the Hawkins he knew. He was somehow still in the other Hawkins, the one Dustin had called the “Upside Down,” like it was part of Hellfire nights instead of…this, this other, terrifying place Henderson and Wheeler and their friends had brought him to. Once he understood where he was, Eddie sat straight up, searching the darkness around him for his newfound group of friends. Surely, if he was here, the rest of them must be too; at least, Harrington or Buckley or Wheeler, the “adults” of the group he had so reluctantly joined, would still be here with him.

He was in the road of his trailer park, the Upside Down version of it, and–as he looked around him–he realized he was surrounded by a circle of demobats. None of them were moving. He sat, breath bated, watching for one of them to twitch, for the whole flock to suddenly jump up and swarm him, but they stayed where they were. He reached out, slowly, and gingerly poked the one closest to him. When it didn’t move, he looked, quickly, his eyes jumping from corpse to corpse, at the limp bodies surrounding him. Surely this was a sign of Vecna’s fall, a sign that Harrington had made good on his promise and made him pay, a sign that they were all safe. But no one else appeared. It seemed like he was alone. Eddie couldn’t understand it–if he was there, in this Upside Down Hawkins, where was everyone else? Had he been taken, grabbed like Harrington in the lake and dragged through a gate? He wracked his memory, still lying on the cool ground while he kept a careful ear out for any hints of approaching bats–or the other creatures Henderson had mentioned, the demogorgons, or dogs, or any of the other crazy shit he had thought only existed in tabletop games two weeks ago. The last thing he could remember–barely, the memory dark and fuzzy around the edges–was Henderson’s face hovering over his, tears running down over his nose to splatter on Eddie’s face.

It was an odd memory. Eddie couldn’t place it, couldn’t link it to anything else. Why would Dustin have been crying? Why did he remember Dustin holding him up, trying to pull him to standing, and oh God, why did he remember a ripping pain through his side when Dustin pulled at his skin? What the fuck was that, that memory of agony splitting through his body as he choked on hot liquid pooling in his mouth? Eddie carefully, slowly, reached his fingers down to his torso and brushed them over his skin, searching out an answer for the question this blurry half-memory created. He found nothing. There were ragged holes in his shirt, sure, but the skin underneath it felt fine, almost hard to his touch. The strange memory must be some Vecna thing, one of those false creations Red–Max, he corrected himself–had tried to explain to him: his skin was fine, his body still whole under his probing hands. He was not choking, his body was not in pieces, he wasn’t being held by Dustin while he promised to look after the kids in Hawkins who were a little too much like the two of them, a little too weird to fly under the radar. Whatever had created that memory of splitting pain through his skin, the fear and pain were gone now. In fact, Eddie almost couldn’t believe how good he felt as he sat in the deserted road. To have woken up here in the Upside Down with no memory of how he got there he would have assumed something was wrong, but his body felt fine–hell, maybe even better than when he first crossed the gate in his ceiling, exhausted and starving from running for his life from Chrissy’s body, from the cops, from Jason and his friends, from bats and creatures he couldn’t even envision. He felt rested, his muscles light under his skin, and his mind was working faster than it seemed like it ever had before, even when he had tried that shit that Rick had promised would help him finally focus on one specific thing long enough to get to graduation. He had been surviving on nothing but the cheap beer and junk food Harrington had brought him for too long, and his body had felt close to giving up even before he had flipped, head over heels, into the Upside Down.

On the thought of his previous days of starving, he did feel a slow sensation building in his core. A hunger was gnawing at his sides, but it was different, not like his normal hunger. Hunger was far from being a completely unknown feeling to Eddie Munson: he had felt hunger when he had still been living with his dad, just a kid who had gone too many days without a real meal; he had felt hunger when he smoked some of the weed he was supposed to be selling, a deep gnawing need for whatever comfort food he could get his hands on. This hunger was different: it was more of a slinking feeling, a physical need accompanied by an emotional sensation he couldn’t put words to. It reminded him of how he felt when he thought about Corroded Coffin breaking out of Hawkins, making a name for themselves with a rush and flush of skin; it reminded him of that sinking pit in his stomach that opened within him every time another test he hadn’t studied for ended up on the desk in front of him and he thought to himself that he should be able to turn in his D&D quests for his writing projects instead of these damn analysis essays; it reminded him of how longing for another person would slide it’s way into his heart late at night sometimes and soak through his frame, filling his head with images of someone wrapping their arms around his neck or brushing his hair smooth against his head. This ache in his stomach, this hunger, made his throat constrict too, made his nostrils flare as he acknowledged it. Mixtures of sadness, of desire, of longing, met with a need through his whole body and, suddenly, he was overwhelmed by the sharp, metallic stink of blood. Eddie suddenly remembered where he was. The smell of blood could be anything, could be a creeping monster coming nearer to finish him off after dragging him here in the first place. Nervous, he slowly, gingerly put his feet under himself and stood up.

Eddie’s body felt different–he felt stronger, lighter on his feet. As he looked around himself in the cool, dark constant night of the Upside Down, he swallowed against the tightness in his throat. The smell of blood seemed to be coming from the slick stains on the ground around him. Patches of darkness spilled over the road, and some of it–closer to savaged remains of demobats–was darker, thicker. Eddie looked down at himself, noting the bright red smears over his clothes and drying along his arms. Hurriedly, he tried to wipe the gore from his slick palms, patting his jeans and ragged shirt but his hands only came away damper, more blood coming from his clothes. It must have been because he was laying in it, Eddie thought, trying to find a single part of him that would clean his hands. In his frantic search, an unbidden thought came to him: that play he had to read his second Senior year, where the wife (or was she a Queen? Whatever) had dreamed about blood on her hands. She had scrubbed her hands in water, yelling “Out, out damned spot!” He remembered because it was the first time he’d ever heard a teacher swear in class, and everyone had giggled. He felt like her now, madly cleaning his hands. “Out,” he hissed between his teeth, finally rubbing his hands on the inside of his jeans pockets. This seemed to work–his hands felt cleaner, at least. Whoever’s blood he was soaked in–his stomach curdled at the thought–had covered him so thoroughly he didn’t know if they would have lived.

He took stock of the carnage around him, trying to put the pieces together to explain the sheer amount of blood under his feet. Fuck, he hoped it wasn’t from any of his friends. If it was Dustin– He couldn’t even finish the thought. He refused to lose that kid. Eddie looked around, searching for even the slightest hint of proof that someone else was still out there with him. When he couldn’t find it, he decided they must have taken whoever was injured–more injured than him, since he was just passed out–back to safety. They must be back at the trailer, he thought. He should get to the trailer. Stepping around the dark, fallen corpses of the bats on the ground, he made his way down the road, keeping to the shadows of the other trailers. He would make it back to the trailer and find his friends, he was sure of it, and then they would go back to Hawkins–the real Hawkins–and he could clear his name, tell the police he hadn’t even been around when Nancy’s friend got killed, and he and his uncle would buy a new trailer and be safe. He could graduate. He could finally leave Hawkins and move on with his life. He felt renewed, a sense of vigor coursing through his bloodstream as he snuck trailer to trailer up to his own.

When he swung the door open, he half expected to see the lights on, his friends in a circle around his stained mattress on the floor, all cheering for him like the Hellfire club had when they finished his most recent campaign. His heart thudded against his chest painfully when he saw no one inside. The mattress was gone–he vaguely remembered moving it himself, trying to keep Henderson from following him as he went back to buy Steve, Nancy, and Robin safety for a little while longer. The half of the rope he remembered cutting was still on the floor, one of the old chairs he and his uncle ate dinner in replacing it in the middle of the room. But when he looked up at the ceiling, the undulating vines had been–boarded over? That wasn’t possible. Scraps of wood–wood that looked suspiciously like pieces of Eddie’s uncle’s furniture, his dining table and maybe the end table he kept his alarm clock on–had been thrown over the opening on the right side of Hawkins. His eyebrows furrowed, trying to understand how the chunks of loose furniture could be above him, knowing they would have to be nailed or screwed or supported against the ceiling in the real Hawkins. Eddie stood on the chair, placing his hands against the wood, and shoved. It barely shifted. His body groaned, the unusual tightness in his throat burning again, and he shoved again, bracing his feet more soundly in the chair. However this shit was stuck to the ceiling, it should come loose easy enough but it didn’t move. Whatever had been piled against the wood, likely propping each piece in place in some sort of complicated manner only Nancy Wheeler and Dustin Henderson could dream up, it was there firmly.

Eddie climbed off the chair and looked around the room. If this blockage was in place, keeping anything from the Upside Down from getting back into his world, what did that mean for him? His stomach tightened into knots. Why would they leave him here? His friends were gone–that much was clear–but they had left him behind and, more than that, they had locked him out. How was he supposed to get back to them? Was he expected to get all the way back to the dry field of what was supposed to be Lover’s Lake and swim his way through a gate again? He had never been a strong swimmer, and he felt certain he wouldn’t make it through the watergate a second time without Robin pulling him along. And why were all of his friends gone? Did they–did they not want him to come back? Or…did they think he wouldn’t? Had they left him, passed out on the street, thinking he was dead? Oh God, oh fuck, if they thought he was dead they wouldn’t come back for him. They would go back to Hawkins and tell everyone he was dead; it would be just like when Nancy’s boyfriend’s kid brother had disappeared, the school making everyone going to an assembly to honor his life right before he had suddenly shown up again. His uncle Wayne’s face flashed in his mind, a memory from when Eddie was a little kid and had seen him sitting in the dark at the kitchen table, draining a beer, glimmering tear tracks running down his face and leaving giant, wet splotches along his work shirt. One of his friends, an old buddy, had died that night, had walked in front of a fucking train, but Eddie hadn’t known that then. He had stood in the doorframe between the hallway and the kitchen and watched his uncle sit at that table, lit only by the passing headlights that cut through the wide windows intermittently. Eddie had listened to him sob, had listened to muffled cries turn into heart wrenching choking sounds, and he had felt his own stomach curdle. It had been a relief when his uncle had finally put his head down on his arms, his sobs turning to gentle breathing as he fell asleep. Eddie never knew if his uncle had known that Eddie had watched him that night; he didn’t know if his uncle knew that every time Eddie really, really started to screw up he pulled back at the last second, thinking about his uncle making those sounds over him.

And now that’s all Eddie could imagine. Somewhere, back in the Right Side of Hawkins, was his uncle sleeping on a kitchen table strewn with empty beer cans? Was he choking on his own sadness as it broke through his mouth, the way Eddie suddenly felt like he might? Or did Uncle Wayne think he was just missing, maybe on a bender with some of his friends like he had been before? The last time Eddie had disappeared for a week, Wayne had sat him down in the living room–the same room Eddie was in now, but it was warm and softly lit with lamps and tense with awkward silence–and told him that he was allowed to disappear for a while (“Hell,” uncle Wayne had said, “You’re practically grown now.”) but that he had to check in every three days. He hadn’t seen his uncle since Chrissy died–also in this same room, he remembered with a painful shudder forcing it’s way up his spine–but he had known that Wayne would understand that; would be waiting for him, but would let him do what he needed to keep the both of them safe. Was that what Eddie was doing now? Keeping himself and others safe by leaving those scraps of wood in place where Chrissy had died, keeping himself here? Eddie wasn’t sure. Part of him couldn’t make sense of it anyway–how could they board this up? How could they think he was dead when he was right here?

The memory of Dustin crying over him flashed through his head again. He, Eddie, had thought he was dying then. But surely he was wrong because look at him–he’s alive, right now. He held a hand up in front of his face, pinching the smooth pale skin below his rings. No, not dreaming. This was real, whatever it was. This had to be some weird sort of Upside Down thing; maybe you couldn’t die in the Upside Down. That had to be it, Eddie thought. He should have died but he didn’t, probably because he wasn’t from the Upside Down, he wasn’t like all of those other things out there, rattling in the dark as they searched for their next meal, so he couldn’t die here. An unwelcome thought occurred to him: maybe he had died but he had come back as a ghost. Sure, Eddie had assumed that ghosts wouldn’t be bothered by things like pieces of broken wood over a transdimensional crossing, but it’s not like he knew how that shit would work. He’d ask Henderson, if he could, but he imagined Dustin would roll his eyes and sigh, condescendingly explaining that ghosts aren't real (but, Eddie reasoned, none of this shit should be real. Didn’t stop it from being real, didn’t stop him from being here). Desperate to prove to himself that he really was alive, Eddie wrapped his fingers around his wrist, his grip so tight that the rational part of his mind told him to expect bruises. Nothing. He slid his hands around his cool skin, trying to find the dull beat that he could always feel tingling through his extremities when he had smoked a little too much, but there was nothing there. His hand came up to his chest, groping around over his thin t-shirt. Where the fuck was his heartbeat? He was alive, he knew he was alive, he could feel himself moving and breathing and thinking, he had to be alive. There–in his throat–he had found his pulse. Just barely, the softest, lightest thrum against his fingers. The beat was too slow, but it was there.

He wasn’t sure why his heartbeat was so slow, why his blood felt thick and morose under his skin. He also wasn’t sure why he had been left behind. Shit, Eddie Munson was slowly coming to terms with the fact that there was a lot he didn’t–and never would–know. But, Eddie thought to himself, he had been left behind, and that’s what really mattered right now. He didn’t think of Dustin’s friends as his own–Harrington, Wheeler, and Buckley had all been nice enough but that didn’t mean he expected them to be a band of best friends after this. He had expected them to fight for him; it had been clear from the moment he lowered the broken bottle he had held against Steve’s throat that whatever this was, they were in it together. But they weren’t anymore, were they? Abandoned. Eddie had been abandoned by his temporary friends. Eddie the Banished, really and truly banished, left to rot alongside the vines and the demobats and Vecna. He didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do. Maybe he could find a way around this–he could go back to Wheeler’s house and touch the lights and tap out SOS on every damn surface in this town until someone put two and two together and brought him back. That would work, he thought, that had to work. A small voice rang out in the back of his head: what if they’re not at Wheeler’s house? What if they just think the wiring’s gone bad? What if they don’t want you back bad enough to risk opening the gate again? Eddie shook his head, dispelling the thoughts that threatened to take over, and sniffed, once.

He looked around the dark, empty trailer. Eddie knew it wasn’t really safe to stay here too long–Vecna’s monsters would probably come back here, they could probably scent or sense or whatever they did, the fucking creeps, that he was there already. Dustin’s spear was leaning up against the wall, one of their homemade shields made of a garbage can lid and long nails still stuck to the ceiling. He stood on a chair, prying the shield loose from where he had stabbed it, and took Dustin’s spear in his other hand. It wasn’t much–probably not enough to keep him alive–but it would have to be enough to get him around town. He’d stick to the shadows, take back roads he was already too familiar with in case those fucking monsters preferred sidewalks or some shit, and he’d ruin the electrical grid of the whole damn town of Hawkins, Indiana if that’s what it took to get him home. He was going home, dammit, and not this home, a backwards, Upside Down version of his house. Eddie steeled his courage at the door of his trailer. Taking one last look over his shoulder, he regarded the space that was so similar to the one he had lived in for so long. His guitar was leaning up against the wall where he had discarded it before fighting the bats with Dustin, and there were die with too-many sides scattered over countertops. He couldn’t take it with him; he couldn’t take the memories, the longing for that part of his life again, either. When he swung the door open, stepping out into the darkness, the sky lit up overhead. The roiling flashes of red lighting cast a bloody glow over Eddie’s face as he stared up, blinking slowly. Shouldering his spear, makeshift shield in his other hand, he began the slow walk towards Wheeler’s house.

Chapter two here!

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #my fic #feral fics #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger thing s4 #eddie munson st4 #eddie munsen #Eddie Munson fanfic #vampire!eddie #vampire eddie munson

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drabbles-mc · 1 year

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Okay, so I saw this super interesting ask game and the way I have SO many things I want to submit, but I will BE KIND and go with: BTS: I’ll write a DVD commentary about my personal favorite passage from [Aftermath Part 1 & 2]

Glad to know we are both still going insane over that story 😂🤝 One of my many writing goals for the summer is to go back and write the next installment. So. We shall see.

In the meantime!

Fave snippet from Aftermath Part 1:

You remembered the borderline baiting tone in his voice as he asked, “What do you want me to do about that?”

And you remembered your borderline pathetic response of, “Make me stop thinking about him.”

And he did.

Coming back to the present, you shook your head. “I shouldn’t have done it. It’s not gonna happen again.”

He stepped in closer, making you back up against the side of your car. “But it worked, right?”

You huffed, annoyed because he was putting you in this position, annoyed because he was absolutely correct. “Yes, it worked, but—”

He cut you off by pressing his lips to yours. You knew you should’ve fought against it but you couldn’t. You melted against him instantly, heat rolling over you in waves as his hand came to rest around your throat, applying just enough pressure to have a reason for being there. You should’ve been upset about it but you weren’t.

The commentary: It was almost 1AM by this point when I was writing it and coming almost to the end. Throughout the entire fic I had gone back and forth multiple times about whether or not I wanted them to get found out by Angel. The whole conflict of it for me was whether or not I wanted it to be a multi-part story or a one shot. (which, knowing me, was a fucking joke of a question because I turn everything into more than it needs to be lmao) At first I thought that Angel was going to catch her coming out of the trailer, but I didn't do that. AND THENNN for a fleeting moment I was contemplating having Angel follow them because he just had more shit to talk and ended up catching him in THIS VERY MOMENT RIGHT HERE! But I then realized that I wasn't ready to be done writing bastard!EZ so instead I let reader enjoy her nice little makeout session and EZ have his smug little banter moment before solidifying the fact that the situation was far from finished and that the mess was undoubtedly going to get worse lmao

Fave snippet from Aftermath Part 2:

You hadn’t been paying much mind to the noise of the scrapyard until you heard the sound of voices. It was a mild distraction, a tiny crack in the false reality you found yourself in every time you were inside EZ’s trailer, every time EZ was inside you. It would’ve been something you were able to push from your mind in a matter of seconds if you hadn’t heard Angel’s voice amongst them. You froze, your body instantly locking up as your eyes widened.

This, and the little dialogue exchange that happened after it, was my payoff for having to write smut I swear to god 😂 Because as I was writing it I could just vividly picture the entire scene so clearly in my head. Like the split in my brain had half of it dedication to EZ's mindset and half of it dedicated to Reader's. Because you KNOOOOOOW that EZ saw this coming and that was half the fucking reason he had initiated any of it at all. And I love that for him. And to stack that up against Reader's absolute panic and regret??? Unreal. I was thriving. The fact that they're both so willingly making this mess so much worse, and EZ doesn't really give a shit about the potential fallout of it even though that's his brother, and the fact that Reader is riddled with anxiety of it even though that's her ex. Idk I just love it so much lmao

Thank you for these! 💕

(you can find the ask game Here)

#ask #asks #aftermath #withmyteeth

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ericac318 · 1 year

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A Reunion in the Multiverse

Summary:

Batgirl (Haisley Wilson) thought she lost Batman when they fought Reverb together. Things aren’t always the way they seem, though.She learns this when two Barry Allen’s show up in her ‘universe’ looking for Batman to help fix a mistake they made. This story goes along with the new Flash movie. I used all the information available for the movie so far along with all my DC knowledge. Batman x OC

Chapter 1

“Batgirl, you need to get out of here,” Batman instructed as they fought Reverb together, “We can’t run the risk of Gotham City losing both of us.”

The villain continued to open portals, attempting to trap the heroes and they had no idea where they would end up if they got sucked in.

She shook her head, “I’m not leaving you here,” she argued as she flung a Batarang at Reverb, watching disappointedly as he disappeared it with another portal.

“I’ve been training you to take over. We both know that I’m getting too old for this,” Batman responded while summoning the Batmobile to their location to take her back to the Batcave where she’d be safe.

Batgirl was shocked as she heard the roar of the engine nearing their location, “We’re more than crime-fighting partners,” she challenged as she fought back her tears.

“I know,” Batman responded with a nod as he distracted Reverb long enough for her to get in the Batmobile.

The last thing Batgirl saw as the vehicle took her from the scene was Batman falling through one of Reverb’s portals.

Three months later…

“Aren’t you over these games, Trickster?” Batgirl questioned as she disarmed his explosives and made her way to handcuff him. “We do this every few months,” she added with a sigh. Fighting crime wasn’t as fun now that she did it alone.

Trickster shook his head, “Not so fast, bat lady.” He opened his jacket to reveal another bomb strapped to his chest with the timer set for thirty seconds.

Batgirl rolled her eyes as she started to think over how to disarm the new obstacle.

Before she could act, she was distracted by blue lightning taking over the scene.

When the dust settled, Trickster was sporting handcuffs Batgirl had never seen before and there were two identical young men standing before her.

“Who are you two? The Wonder Twins?” she joked as she signaled for the police to take Trickster.

One of the replied, “No, we’re both Barry Allen, the Flash. We need your help to find Batman,” he explained causing her heart to sink.

“I wish I could help you,” she answered, “But, Batman is dead. You’re three months too late. How are there two of you?” she asked, changing the subject once they were alone. “My real name is Haisley Wilson, by the way.”

The same Barry spoke, “I went back in time to stop my Mother’s death and in the process, I ended up on another Earth with this Barry. We’ve tried to fix my mistake, but instead, things have gotten worse. We unleashed General Zod in another Batman’s world. So, we came to get reinforcements to take back. What happened to your Batman?”

Haisley’s head was spinning as she listened to Barry explain what was going on. “Different Earths? Do you know how crazy that sounds?” she inquired, choosing to focus on one thing at a time.

The other Barry replied, “We do, but we can prove it if you join us. We’ll take any help we can get. Do you mind sharing what happened to Batman?”

She sighed as she thought back to the day she never liked to remember, “He and I were fighting Reverb. He can open portals to .. well, we don’t know where. Batman sent me away just before he fell through one of them.”

“Come with us,” the first Barry requested, “We’ll bring you back once the threat is eliminated.”

She shrugged, “I don’t see why I can’t. Try not to make a bigger mess,” she added as the two Barry’s grabbed onto her and started running.

A/N: I know this is all over the place DC wise but I just had to write this story after seeing Michael Keaton return as Batman in The Flash trailer.

#batman #michael keaton #bruce wayne #original female character #The Flash #fanfiction #dc universe #barry allen #batgirl

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miss-lauryn-hill · 1 year

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Good morning/ night Tee! It's your psc secret Santa again. I hope you'll have fun at Vegas ♥️🎄 I don't currently have anything planned for Christmas, but it's probably going to be the usual dining out with friends and family 🍽️

Here are some asks for you so I can get to know you better 🤗 feel free to answer as many or as few as you'd like (also let me know if you want to keep getting these kinds of asks 🫶)

1. How long have you been giffing and what got you started? Or any stories along the way, I love hearing all about people's creative processes ♥️

2. What are your favourite shows/ movies you've seen from 2022 and what are your all time favourites?

3. What is your personality/ personality type (enneagram/mbti/ anything you use)? What are your favourite and/or least favourite part(s) of your personality?

4. Favourite subject(s) in school or just favourite activities you like to do in general?

5. What is your dream job/ occupation if you don't have to worry about anything, like paying rent or whether they would hire you or what would your parents/ others think that kind of stuff? 🤣

6. Any other things you'd like to share about yourself 🫶

Your secret santa ♥️

good time zone friend 🥰 whatever do you mean? that sounds like a good plan to me! do you stick to the basics or does your family try different types of food every year?

oh nah keep them coming if anything i’ll annoy you before you ever will me. reddit ama hours over here.

1. about five years? i started my first blog back in 2012 or something and got heavily invested in atla and then teen wolf. wild times. i liked kataang, maiko and stalia so my blog was like a fucking war zone. i do not mind the alternatives though so don’t cancel me. my gifing process varies tbh. sometimes i try others i don’t and it’s always the sets that i don’t put much time or thought into that get traffic i hate it here so much. as far as the actual steps i do this.

2. this year was a fucking fever dream. i remember nothing. like this event? i had to google what came out and when i saw that moon knight was this year i was fucking floored. and that was like what? a few months ago. all i remember is black panther 2, renaissance, midnights and sos but that came out last night so. all time favorites are atla, insecure, daredevil, punisher s1, jessica jones, beauty and the beast, hercules, gossip girl except for s6. idk her.

3. enneagram type nine. i don’t really have a favorite? like irl people think i’m funny but i’m really just saying shit not really trying to be. like i feel like there’s a difference. oh wait no i like that i don’t take things personally. if that doesn’t count just smile and nod for me. least favorite is that i talk too much. not like telling people’s business or some shit but more of that should’ve stayed in the drafts or delete this. i also curse too much. so let me know if that bothers you and i’ll try to tone down.

4. i feel like this means the basic k-12 but forget that i fucking love psych. i love editing. like you know those fan made trailers? that was my entire personality in middle school and high school. then i found out that you could do that and get paid? game changer. and of course gifing, long-boarding, video games, i’m thinking about getting into glassblowing.

5. a celebrity makeup artist. like imagine picking up your phone and seeing a text from beyoncé telling you she has an event and needs you to do her makeup in london or some shit. OR an heiress.

6. i really want to move to hawaii.

pulling a reverse uno card here on all of these questions to you. but only if you feel like sharing of course.

#psc secret santa anon

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bearpillowmonster · 2 years

Text

RE3 Remake Review

I first saw the trailer for this when it was announced and thought it looked unfinished, I mean it only came out a year after RE2 Remake and there were certain things they rushed (though it ended up being a masterpiece anyway) but I was worried for it. Does that show more in this game?

Let me talk about difficulty. So, it's a short game. With RE2, you had the excuse of playing multiple routes to get a grander ending as well as little differences between the two but this one is kind of just straight to the finish line. I felt the need to play on hardcore mode because of its length, but enemies are bullet sponges. Which is fine for regular zombies because you can dodge them a lot of the time but when it comes to ones you more or less have to fight (Nemmy and Hunters) it's really noticeable, even if I get the fight on the first try, it just seems like it'll never end. And because of that, you use all your ammo.

There were points where I'd get knocked down and not even cornered, just unable to get up because Nemmy kept attacking or I was pinned in such a place where I couldn't press the A button to escape despite being given the prompt. I don't remember if Mr. X was like this or not but I definitely felt cheated with some deaths because the attacks kept coming and kept hurting even if I was stunned, impossible to fight back or dodge. (which is technically realistic but stupid for a game mechanic) This was my main gripe with the actual gameplay.

And we see multiple areas again, (granted we do in the OG as well but there are more areas in the og, though much smaller so it kind of evens out). We mainly just see sections of the hospital and police station again. Which would be fine since we only see certain sections of them but this is already a short game, to fill that with stuff we've seen just makes it seem like an alternate RE2 at times. But here's a fun memory I got out of it. The bathroom was flooded with zombies, I shot about five of them in the shower room, two more in the next room before another walked through the door, one of them bit me to the danger zone so I had to B-Line it out of there (there's a green herb just outside the door) so I hit the dodge button which also acts as a punch button for Carlos, so I try to dodge the one behind me and a Licker pops through the window in front of me (Never got to this point before), so Carlo's punch ended up knocking him down on accident, so I just hit it again. He gets back up and I knocked him right back down. Funniest thing. I worked my way into the STARS office and that was that. Completely on accident after getting stuck on it over and over again.

Speaking of, I don't really get a say in what I want for future RE titles especially since I have a bountiful amount left that are already out but I wouldn't mind if there was never another one where you get chased by something. That was the whole reason I waited so long with this one actually. I heard it was short, it cut content, the story was predictable, and that you would be chased again. But then I heard that Nemmy was just a big baby and I got over Mr. X so I said I'd get the game when it was on sale (plus I saw Jill had a Stars costume). And wouldn't you know it? It's on sale right now for a whopping all time low of $16 on Steam and RE4 Remake was just announced, so what better time?

And because I waited so long, I played that opening at least 5 times across the demo on PS4 and PC, hardcore mode, standard mode and with alternate skins. It's such a kicking opening, I already loved the game at that point.

I didn't compare RE2 Remake to its predecessor because I never played it but I went and watched footage of the whole original RE3 to compare the two, since I heard there was fan favorite cut content. I won't bother listing all the differences because they can be hefty and someone probably already explained it ten times better than I could but I'll give a little bit of a rundown of what I like better between the OG and Remake.

From what I can see, it's action versus horror. It really just matters what preference of order of events you want too. This is purely story, I won't say too much about gameplay. Uh, a few spoilers in this section by the way.

REMAKE PROS: It made things knit together a little tighter and gave certain scenes more meaning by giving them their own action sequence.

I like Carlos, surprisingly. I didn't think I would because I never even heard of Carlos until this remake so I figured he was just a one and done type of character but I actually kind of like how he's nice from the very start and tries to do the right thing all the meanwhile being sent to do the wrong thing and when he comes to find that out, he's kind of betrayed. He's better than the original. I do think Tyrell could've been built up a little more along with him but I understand why he wasn't.

OG PROS: There's a mechanic called "live selection" where you can choose between two choices, one outcomes in a fight, while the other leads to the next area. This can also effect the order of events or the way things happen, for example, you can meet Carlos in a press place or you can meet him in a restaurant. Fight Nemmy early and you get the Stars ID early in the police station.

In addition to that, there are technically multiple endings, with each stemming from what live selection you pick at the very end.

Mikhail and Nikolai are slightly better characters. They're kind of one-note in the remake.

It feels like Jill is on her own mission while in the remake, it's like she's always trying to reunite with Carlos, which makes Jill out to be a little bit of a better character in the OG in my opinion.

The only thing about Carlos that I like more in the OG is that his friend gets infected and he has to shoot him, so it makes it more impactful when Jill gets infected.

I think the remake suffers from an overall "lack" so there's a lack of elaboration, giving you bare bones in some areas. It chalks itself up to needing "more time", whether its playtime or development time. Maybe that's why they gave it the 'greed' theme, because they knew players would want more (which wasn't in the og). First half, great, second half shortcoming. 4 comes out in 2023, which is 3 years from this one (though they had other games in between, those might be different teams though) so I imagine they'll learn from the feedback of this one plus take extra care since 4 is so highly regarded.

I'll round it to a 3/5 or be nice and say a 7/10.

#resident evil #re3 #remake #review #jill valentine #resident evil 3

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sugarywishes · 2 years

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My opinions/stupid rant on Security Breach

WARNING: MASSIVE SPOILERS!!

If you don't wish to see them please scroll past this! I don't know how to make any of those 'under the cut' things so bare with me lmao

This game is...definitely not what I expected. And honestly? Not sure if it's a good sign

I genuinely REALLY wished we had actual cut scenes and stuff,the only ones we had was the beginning segment,and a few of the endings. I don't count the ones with the animatronics because they aren't really but scenes yk??

The plot itself was also a major letdown. We jumped straight first into gameplay,having absolutely no idea or clue about what's happening,sometimes it works in certain situations or games,but with something like Security Breach that was said to have a detailed and complex story,the beginning was pretty jarring (not even sure if that's the right word to say 💀)

Also,the heck was up with Vanny?? I swear I only saw her a few times and then she's gone,she was promoted as the 'ultimate big bad' in the trailers and stuff,but she literally becomes a thing like, 1 hour into playing this game (Was also disappointed in Vanessa's character,thought she would be the cool security guard girl who was also a badass but she's just an ass 😭) and the 'falling off the roof' ending basically confirmed the thing I dreaded most. I HAD FAITH THAT YOU WOULDN'T PULL THAT MAN

Something else kinda strange is the whole voice actor stuff,if you guys remember I'm pretty sure there was meant to be a lotta more characters?? Lemme show you the pic

Unless they were either scrapped mid-production,or for another game,we didn't get an explanation for the roles (But maybe we have and I'm just stupid and I never saw it,always a possibility and likely the correct one)

AND MAN. The animatronics not being on our side from the start was so freaking heart breaking for me,I THOUGHT WE'D GET TO LIKE PLAY GOLF WITH MONTY OR RACE WITH ROXY OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT

Some more major stuff I was upset about

- Gregory in general,I like him he's an awesome protagonist HOWEVER,we don't even know a lot about him,all we know is that he's homeless and probably has no parents,we don't even see how he properly got in Pizza Plex,like did he go all Mission Impossible and snuck in like though the ceiling or did he have to go enter and pay like everyone else lmao?? I want to know more about my boy!! 🥺

- Molten Freddy and Glitchtrap's (Burntrap?) return. THEY WERE SO UNNECESSARY,and before yall go like 'but didn't you want glitchtrap in the game' YEA YEA I DID,but they way they just used him here was...needless to say disappointing, we were all hoping for him to battle us and have a crazy ass ending but nope, Molten really came back and snatched his ass away 🗿 Why even have them there if they were here for one ending? If Security Breach does get a sequel,I WANT AN EXPLANATION AS TO WHY THEY WERE THERE

- we should've gotten cut scenes,I will never stop being upset about that

- No explanation as to why Freddy was even glitching at the start? Was that just there for dramatic effect?? Or did I miss the explanation cause I was an idiot I don't remember

- The Endo Bot level,the concept of them not moving when you look at them is one of the best ones here,but what's not as fun is the constant stress of MILLIONS OF THEM FOLLOWING YOU EVERYTIME YOU GO ANYWHERE , at some point just put a limit on them following you,like every time you leave a room have the doors shut on some of them so you don't have a whole parade following you

- The freakin security bots,THEY ARE EVERYWHERE, maybe it's just me but maybe we could've had more and more security bots everytime we enter a new level of the mall,like the first floor could have only 1 or 2 bots,but as we progress they start to pile up more,and get slightly advanced,the first bots from the first floor could just look at you or whatever,but the upper floor bots could start alerting the robots to come after you,and maybe when we get higher up they can attack you(?) (Also,the robots just teleporting to you was just 😶)

- Obviously several things have changed from when we first saw the original teaser and concept art,and I know this seems very mean to say,but I kind of would've maybeee preferred the trailers and teasers and concept version of SB instead of the actual game?? Maybe the game was meant to be like this all along but...Fantasy is always better than reality.

BUT PLEASE ALSO REMEMBER! This is the opinion of a huge loser who prefers fully detailed lore stuff and stories over just constant gameplay with barely anytime to fully understand the plot,so I obviously don't expect you guys to think that I outright despise SB and the fnaf franchise

There were some things I liked about the game,the visuals were SO GORGEOUS I FELT LIKE I WAS GONNA PASS OUT RIGHT THERE JUST SEEING THEM

The game mechanics,albeit kind of buggy are still very fun! Even if Gregory runs out of stamina too fast or Freddy powers down too quickly,MAN YOU'RE A WHOLE ASS BOT YOU SHOUL-

The chasing parts were so TERRIFYING I genuinely get freaked our whenever the screen starts shaking and I was freaking out everything cause like 'WHERE ARE THEY AT'

Roxanne. That's it just Roxanne I LOVE HER SO MUCH?? she was rude yes but queens have attitudes too 🙄💅

And the bond between Greg and Freddy was so adorable!

All in all,is this game flawed? Very much so,but everything in this world is flawed as well! So don't let my opinion potential ruin the experience for you,if the things I don't like are things that you do,that's great! You found joy in something I couldn't :)

I really hope the DLC , or heck,even a future sequel could help patch the issues I have with the game, but until then, I'll be watching some gameplays (Or maybe just return to reading fanfiction or fanart before the game released)

#SPOILERS FOR FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S SECURITY BREACH #spoilers for security breach #Gregory fnaf #glamrock freddy #glamrock chica #Roxanne wolf #Montgomery gator #vanessa fnaf #glitchtrap fnaf or is it burntrap??#vanny fnaf #will i lose followers over this?? stay tuned and find out!

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im-in-love-with-pizza-bites · 2 years

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Yours, Mine, Ours: Chapter 30

Single-Dad!Chris Evans X Single-Mom!Reader

Series MasterList

List of OCs for this series

Series Summary: Your husband Caspian Richardson Senior died while serving in the military, so you move your three sons to Boston, MA. Where you meet an actor and his sweet daughter.

Chapter Summary: You clean up your house while the kids go to the park.

Series Warnings: Death of a spouse/parent, divorce of parents,

Chapter Warnings:

Chris looks at that article shocked. How did he not notice paparazzi? And what were you gonna say? What if you've already seen it? You're gonna kill him. You guys agreed to keep your relationship private with only family and friends knowing. No fans, and no paparazzi. Anytime the media gets involved in a relationship it ends. He doesn't want media pressure. What if you realize just how pushy the paparazzi can get? So you breakup with him so they don't bother you and your kids. A part of him would understand if you did break up with him.

"Daddy! Caspian is here! He's gonna take me to the park to teach me football! Remember?" June says pulling him from his thoughts.

Now what is he worried about? Paparazzi saw you, Chris and the kids last night celebrating Caspian winning the first game of the season. It was a "great" shot that shows yours, Caspian and Connor's faces. Jace's face couldn't be seen cause he was looking up at Chris. And Juniper has already been seen by fans. Rarely but he'd sometimes bring her as his "date" to premieres and he's posted photos of her. Scott posts photos of her too. It's not a often occurrence and he tries to keep anything that could be embarrassing to himself until she can give permission to post them. But he's not sure how you feel about your kids being seen by press.

"Yeah bug, I remember." Chris smiles and looks down at her. "Have fun, listen to Capsian okay?"

"Okay! Bye daddy love you!"

"I love you too baby girl." Chris watches her run to the door and he sees Caspian standing there texting someone.

"Hey Caspian."

"Hey.." Caspian looks at him, the look on his face is indifferent. It's not his usual smiling expression he normally has. He definitely saw it.

"Be careful today okay?"

"Yeah... Mom hasn't seen the article yet but I'm guessing you have? You should tell her before she finds out on her own." Caspian tells him before June grabs his hand a drags him outside where his brothers were waiting.

He has a point. Chris though as he heard the door shut. He can't let this relationship end because of the paparazzi. He goes to the door putting his shoes on before he walks next door. He knocks on the door, it only takes a little bit before you open it.

"Hey Chris!" You grin before kissing him. "Come on in, I'm trying to clean the house before the boys get home. It's kind of a wreck." You laugh letting him walk in.

"Have any luck finding someone to watch Jace?"

"No Butler is going house hunting and Maya is job hunting I only know so many people here. I don't know what to do though. He's not old enough to stay home alone for eight hours. But I can't take five days of work off." You sigh as start fixing up the couch, moving pillows and cushions.

"I mean I start filming another movie this week but he can come to set with me if you want? I'll have a trailer for him to hang out in." Chris offers.

"You'd do that? Oh thank you so much. You really don't mind? I mean thats your job you don't have to bring him."

"Don't worry I used to bring June when she was two. Jace is way better behaved then she was." Chris assures.

"Okay. Thank you so much babe." You give him a grateful look.

"You're welcome baby." He kisses you before beginning to help you clean up. "Uh I actually came over to tell you something."

"Okay good ahead." You smile at him.

"The paparazzi got a photo of you and Connor and Caspian."

"I know. Ben sent me one of the articles right before you come over." You look at him.

"I'm sorry. My publicist is already on it."

"It's not your fault Chris, it was bound to happen eventually. We've been together 8 months I'm surprised it didn't happen soon." You chuckle putting a hand on his shoulder. "We just have to be more careful."

"You're right I guess... But are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure stop worrying."

———

"Okay June ready throw the ball to me!" Caspian says kneeling down. They were using a small foam football from the dollar store. It was easier for June to hold then Caspian's football. She throws the ball and Connor begins running for him. Caspian dodges him and runs back towards June he passes the ball and tells her to run.

"Yay! Touchdown!" She yells throwing the ball on the ground like she saw Caspian do the night before.

"Good job Duckling!" Caspian grins highfiving the young girl. "2-0." He says the points to his brothers.

"It's not fair why does she get to have you on her team!" Connor argues.

"Cause she's younger then you guys." Caspian chuckles.

"Can we eat our snack mom packed now?"

"Sure it's in my backpack." Caspian pointed at the black bookbag that say in the grass.

Jace and Connor hurry over to it and open the bag. They both pull out a sandwich bag of goldfish. June comes over to get something to eat as well and they hand her another bag. They toss one to Caspian before they all sit down in the grass.

"Who was that girl from last night?" Jace asks Caspian.

"Just a friend, I'll introduce you to her sometime." Caspian assures.

"Is she your girlfriend?" Connor teases.

"No me and Cassidy aren't dating." Caspian rolls his eyes.

"Cassidy and Caspian sitting in a K.I.S.S.I.N.G f-" Connor stops singing as Caspian pushes him.

"Shut up!"

"I thought your song was really pretty." June tells him causing the three boys to laugh.

"Thank you." Connor smirks.

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