#coffin dice box

[crownedinmarigolds]

Thank you @grizguts for the care package!!! 😍 I am blown away!!!

Look at this pink coffin dice box for Noa... so cool!!!

[grizguts]

~ Even MoRe VtM Coterie Coffins ~ This time for our new coterie mates; @nosferaboo @diableriedoll @ dippydan4 - and Pat. Shipping sure sent me through a frikkin loop, especially USPS doing some wacky ass shit, but in the end everyone got theirs before our first session all together this Sunday! Eeee!

[steddiehands86]

https://x.com/steddiehands86/status/1698469275063783777?s=12

Come check out a project I’ve been working on :)

[hotluncheddie]

Safe With You.

Ao3 | wc: 4.8k | Rated: E | tags: Daddy kink, under-negotiated kink, hurt/comfort, crying, sub Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart, masturbation

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

The credits are rolling, names passing on the screen of Eddie’s little tv, movie over. 

Steve squeezes Eddie’s fingers where they’re tangled with both of his own. His head had migrated to Eddie’s shoulder around 20 minutes in, all tension seeping from him with one of Eddie’s thighs slung over his own and Eddie’s arm around his waist.

He’d missed nights like this, with someone, in easy closeness, being someone’s boyfriend. Something inside Steve always yearned for it, to be allowed this, something like it. Soft and domestic. 

(He’s been blessed with his platonic closeness with Robin. But she’s less tactile than Eddie, they hold hands and hug but the full body blanket of contact isn’t something she can stomach for long.)

It feels extra special tonight, somehow, after the day they’d had, because the Corroded Coffin boys were over to hang out and talk shop for their characters. Steve had come over around three, after his shift and part way through a heated discussion about trolls. He busied himself with decompressing, puttering around and reading Eddie’s comics on the sofa - leaving them to it. But every once in a while Eddie would call out for him to pick a number between one and ten. Or would scamper over with a box that had a dice in it, asking Steve to roll, kissing him on the head once he had. Steve felt so special; to be allowed to exist in that space, have Eddie want him there, including him as much as Steve was comfortable. It was so nice. 

And then Steve was allowed to stay, the other boys leaving with waves and see you soon’s and it wasn’t even mentioned that Steve would go too. Instead Eddie came and draped himself over him, snuggling into his neck and talking about what they should make for dinner. Those moments seemed to cause another piece of Steve’s burned red insides to scab, peel, and revel itself fresh pink  - on its way to healed. 

After Nancy something had curdled within him. Followed by the long hot summer where the main sense memory he retained on his skin was that of hard knuckles and big stinging palms. Then followed were those long months full of girls, here and there, who would touch his hand or his dick; and it was nice, until the post orgasm haze melted and it was time for one of them to leave. Steve left alone again. His body aching for something else. Something different. 

Now Steve feels syrupy and loose, fuzzy around the edges: a Polaroid that got wet with the lake water it captured. He fiddles with the rings on Eddie’s fingers. Eddie’s other hand having migrated up to his hair, scratching lightly behind his ear. 

‘Want to stay over?’ Eddie asks quietly. 

Steve did. He really really did. 

‘If that’s okay?’ 

‘C’mon.’ Eddie stands, motions for Steve to follow along, grabbing his hand again and holding it behind him as he leads them down the little hall to his room. 

Eddie puts on a record and some old smoky blues song filters through the room. He makes his way back over, swaying his hips, humming softly, taking Steve by the waist and turning them in a slow sort of waltz. 

Steve thinks, for not the first time and definitely not the last, that Eddie, his boyfriend, is so so beautiful. Free and handsome and earth-shatteringly charming. 

Eddie’s hands slip up Steve’s sides, finger trailing over his scarred waist, taking Steve’s T-shirt with them, pulling it up and off over his head, dropping it to the floor at their bare feet. 

‘What’s this?’ Steve asks, smiling, eyes half lidded. Eddie’s lips work their way soft and slow down the muscle of his neck, still humming softly along with the song. Steve’s own hands flutter from Eddie’s shoulders to draping around his neck. 

‘Nothin, s’late, we should get some sleep.’ Eddie says low and lazy. His soft lips make their way back up to Steve’s cheek. All the times in the world they seemed to say. 

Eddie, to Steve, had taken to being someone’s boyfriend even more than he ever would’ve expected. Hopelessly romantic and achingly attentive; it regularly fills Steve’s chest close to bursting. These few months of being with Eddie have been so fun and Steve laughs more than he can remember. It all just feels different with Eddie, he feels different. That things aren’t quite so hard, that it doesn’t all have to be so scary.

‘Sleep huh?’ Steve asks, lips on Eddie’s skin, on his salty temple. His own fingertips grazing shoulder blaze, grazing scar, grazing bone and skin. 

Eddie’s eyes are dark chocolate, his mouth set in a half grin that never seems to leave. Never seems to leave when he’s looking at Steve. ‘Yup, just helpin’ you get ready.’ Eddie says, pinky finger ghosting along the waistband of Steve’s jeans. 

Steve dips his chin forward, attaching his mouth to Eddie’s, lips already parted and tongue already searching. Eddie’s hand comes up into his hair, the other slipping into the back pocket of his jeans, squeezing, gripping. 

They kiss and they kiss and the blues plays on, the air-con rattling and a stray cat meows in the distance. 

‘Tell me something.’ Eddie says between kisses, quiet and deep and Steve feels like there’s whisky in his belly, thrumming through his veins. Drunk on Eddie Munson. ‘Tell me what you like, show me. Let me help baby.’ His hooded eyes pull Steve in, fingers stroking hairs away from his forehead and lips pressing kisses to his cheekbones. 

Steve doesn’t know how to answer, how to ask for something he wants. ‘No, I. Te-tell me what you like.’ He says, pulling Eddie’s shirt up and off, giving himself a moment away from eye contact, away from the vulnerability Eddie draws out of him. 

Eddie lets his T-shirt be tossed away, pulling Steve close and swaying them again gently. Slowing the moment once more. ‘Mmm, I like lots of things. Like making pretty boys feel good, for one.’ He ponders, hand soothing up and down Steve’s back. ‘And you, honey, are the prettiest guy I’ve ever seen.’ He smiles, teeth glinting in the soft lamplight. 

Steve ducks his head as his cheeks flush, smiling, hiding in Eddie’s shoulder. 

‘Let me make you feel good, hm? Tell me something you like, something you enjoy, or always wanted to try.’ Eddie asks quiet and slow into Steves hair, hugging their bodies close. 

The first thought to Steve’s head makes him swallow. The first thought to Steve’s head makes him burn. 

‘It’s embarrassing.’ He whispers, face hot and he has the sudden urge to cry. To kick and scream and stomp his foot. To curl up in a ball and not say anything more. 

It’s a word he’s thought about, for a while, secretly. He would think about it with girls - the few who took a little more charge, who threaded their hands in his hair and pulled. Thought about it after he realised boys could be his, could be something he finally let himself feel. Thought about it alone in the shower, moaning quietly, fingers in his mouth, water trailing across his skin. Thought about it and flushed, belly churning, aching. He thought about it once, came, cried, weeped into his pillow for everything it could mean. Everything he wanted along with the word, tantalising and terrifying and wrapped up in ugly puss-filled parts of his past. Who he is, how he grew up. A tangled mess that’s he’s too scared to try and tease apart. 

Eddie guides his face back out, cradling Steve’s cheeks in his palms. ‘Want to look after you, that’s all I’ve ever wanted Stevie. Baby, it’s all I want to do.’ He says, earnest, kissing Steve softly on the mouth.  

‘You, I don’t. Ho-how can you be so?’ He mumbles wetly, losing it, floating away under Eddie’s lips. 

‘Like you so much Stevie, Sweetheart. Always mean it. Tell me what you want baby. What do you need?’ 

Steve bites his lip, feels emotions choking in the back of his throat, solidifying into something that’s maybe not so bitter, maybe not so bad. If the trust unfurling in his heart at the soft press of Eddie’s fingertips could tell him anything, it’s that maybe Eddie can handle it - him - the mix of things that are begging to spill. The word, that means so much somehow. 

‘Eddie.’ Steve whispers, as lips return to his neck. Ringed fingers undo his jeans and they slip down his hips to pool at his feet. ‘Eddie.’ He whimpers, shivering, as Eddie reaches the juncture of his neck and shoulder, biting and sucking and leaving a sweet bruise of promise marked onto Steve’s skin. 

‘Tell me baby.’ Eddie’s thumb presses into Steve’s hipbone, the other hand held firm to the back of his neck, keeping them close. 

‘Eddie, Eddie.’ Another bite, their bodies sharing heat and tears sting the corners of Steve’s eyes. His blood feels molten, he feels sticky and heavy and flush. Eddie’s hands on his neck and shoulders and waist, their legs tangling, toes brushing toes, Eddie’s belt buckle pressing and catching in Steve’s happy trail. Another bite, another caress, his Eddie all over him, holding him, loving him. 

‘Daddy.’ Steve sobs, whines, the damn breaking. All his fears spilling out, fizzing bubbles in the air. 

‘Oh.’ Eddie groans, growls, squeezing Steve in his arms. ‘Oh you don’t even know do you? How precious you are for me.’ And he’s kissing Steve again, savouring and devout. Moaning into Steve’s lips, drinking the word, eating the confession. Taking and swallowing that little part of Steve’s own soul. 

Eddie holds his hips, grinding, seeking Steve out in his boxers, denim rough and Eddie’s length is so hard against his own. ‘Please.’ Steve moans. 

Eddie releases his lips, bringing Steve’s hands up to kiss his palms, nipping his fingertips. His hands wrap around Steve’s wrists forming a solid circle, dwarfing them in his palms, thumb smoothing over pulse point. Something about it makes Steve feel claimed and sticky. Eddie’s hands big enough to trap him like that, hold him. Something in Steve never wants him to let go. 

Eddie steps them backwards until knees hit the bed, pulling at Steve’s wrists so he gets the hint and lays down. Eddie falling with him, crowning him against the mattress, wrists pinned either side of his head. Kissing Steve again and again, licking onto his mouth.

Steve arches into the touch, hungry and seeking friction on his aching cock. But Eddie’s thigh between his leg stays maddeningly out of reach. Steve’s groans turn into whimpers as Eddie bites his lower lip and pulls. 

He’s panting by the time Eddie starts kissing over his cheek and down his neck, hands releasing to instead grope at his hairy pecs and Eddie keeps kissing until he can suck a nipple into his mouth. Steve arching again, whining weakly as he buries his hands in Eddie’s curls. 

Eddie’s fingers follow the curve of his waist down to the waistband of his boxers. Pulling his mouth away from the now red, sensitive bud. His eyes bright and sparkling as he looks up and Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s belly button before sitting up onto his knees. pulling at Steve’s boxers and lifting his legs up along with them. The boxers thrown onto the floor with their shirts, and Steve’s ankles stay resting on Eddie’s shoulders. 

‘Feel good baby?’ Eddie asks, kissing the soft skin of the ankle bone by his face. Steve nods, he feels blotchy and flushed but so so happy. Can’t help smiling up at Eddie. ‘Gonna be good for me?’ 

Steve reaches out for him, Eddie tangling their fingers and squeezing. ‘Who you gonna be good for?’ He asks, cheeky and lovely and light. 

‘You.’ Steve manages, wriggling a little, bringing his free hand up to his mouth. 

‘Who am I?’ Eddie grips the meat of Steve’s thigh, shuffling closer, bending Steve in half. 

Steve looks up at him, Eddie’s face looming over his own, his sweet lovely Eddie. ‘Daddy.’ He whispers, own fingertips tracing his lips, ears hot and cock so hard it’s leaking onto his belly. 

‘Good boy.’ Eddie praises, kissing Steve’s legs that are still around his face. Working his way upward until he can lay them gently back down on the bed. ‘Want you to teach me baby, show me how you feel good.’ Eddie says sweetly, laying down next to him. Crowding in close and kissing Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve lets his knees fall apart. ‘You’re gonna watch?’ He asks softly, waiting for Eddie’s nod before he grips himself. Stroking long and slow across his length, biting his lips. Finally able to touch, his fingers twist and tweak the head, pressing where shaft meets tip. Just the way he likes it. Steve groans. 

‘That’s it baby, don’t think, just do what feels good.’ 

And Steve looks at Eddie, leaning up on his elbow, head on his palm. Dark brown eyes eating Steve whole. 

He sinks. Some part of his brain slipping away into darkness. Everything a black pool of sensation and need. Soft and warm and floating. ‘Daddy.’ He says softly, slurring and keening and weak. He feels so needy, so good and free and down. 

‘Yeah baby, Daddy’s watching.’ And Steve moans, eyes closing again, fingers tightening, squeezing and teasing and he brings his hand up, sticks his finger in his mouth, tasting the salty slick and letting spit coat his digits, laving at his own palm. 

Gripping himself again he arches at the new glide, hips rolling as a deep moan vibrates from the base of his chest. 

‘Do you ever touch here? That feel good?’ And Eddie’s fingers slip over and past Steve’s balls, dipping into the skin of his taint, pressing and seeking and sharp pleasure spikes up Steve’s spine. Has him writhing on the bed. 

‘Oh you do.’ And Eddie’s smiling, almost awed. ‘Baby likes that. Have you fingered yourself to Stevie?’ He asks. 

The words get stuck, sticking like peanut butter on Steve’s tongue. ‘Yeh.’ He manages, huffy and weak. ‘Sometimes, but, s’hard, to, ah ah, get the angle right.’ And he reaches down, as if to show Eddie, as if to do more, be good, be better. 

But Eddie smacks his hand away lightly. ‘I’ll find you the best angle another night baby, you just focus on showing me how to use that pretty cock of yours yeah?’ And Steve moans, feeling wet and dripping and silken. Eddie’s fingers pressing and searching, a dry pressure on his hole, stroking the course hairs and thumbing that part again. ‘Let Daddy do the thinking, you just be pretty for me. You have such nice hands baby. Do you like it, like playing with the tip most?’ He murmurs in Steve’s ear. He can feel Eddie’s own hard on pressing into his hip. Feels where he’s leaking over his own fingers. 

Eddie’s watching him, rapt, as Steve switches hands and brings his dripping fingers up to his own mouth to suck clean. His eyes feel heavy, his thoughts gooey and slow but he hears Eddie’s sharp inhale of breath, feels saliva pool on his tongue and soak his fingers further. The presence of something in his mouth makes his hips roll and he fucks up into his own fist. 

‘You’re so fucking hot. Baby, oh my god, looks so good when you let go like this.’ Eddie babbles, almost talking more to himself than directly to Steve, his denim clad cock grinding ever so slightly again. 

The compliments sit heavy and squirming in Steve’s gut, make him moan loudly around his fingers, eyelashes fluttering as he tries to keep his gaze on Eddie. Hand speeding up, squeezing his shaft and twisting the head and he feels a fire building inside him. 

‘That’s it baby, let me hear you, s’okay, s’okay to let go.’ Eddie whispers, lips on Steve’s cheeks, kissing up into his hair and Steve needs to feel him, needs to be close, closer, he’s right on the edge. 

He takes his spit soaked fingers out of his mouth, reaching for Eddie’s jaw, feeling the roughness of new stubble against his palm. ‘Can I? Daddy can I?’ He begs, desperate. Turning his head so their eyes lock together. 

‘Let go baby boy, come for Daddy.’ Eddie says nuzzling into Steve’s hand, taking the tips of a finger into his mouth and biting. 

Steve does. He arches, muscles tensing, orgasming long and deep and groaning. He squeezes his eyes shut as he milks himself, shifting until it hurts. Eddie’s fingers ghost back up and over his balls, massaging the goop into his pubes, stroking the hair by his hip. ‘My good boy, so good for me baby.’ Eddie coos, kissing Steve’s crown and his hips are still grinding, slow and sultry and aching. 

Steve’s panting, floating and filthy and he needs Eddie to come too, needs him to finish, needs his show to have been useful. ‘Want. Want Daddy’s come.’ He breaths, whining, panting, feels like he could cry. 

‘Nah, sweet Prince, want you to feel good. Did it feel good?’ Eddie dismisses, circling a nipple with his fingertips. 

And Steve actually might be crying now, he thinks, sniffing. ‘Yeah but, but you need to feel good too.’ He whines. 

‘I did baby I did. Want tonight to just be for you, and you did so well, such a good boy for me.’ Eddie placates, kissing Steve’s cheek. 

Steve sniffles, whines, reaching for the fly of Eddie’s jeans, he can still feel Eddie’s half hard cock pressed up against him. ‘But, but Daddy. You have to as well, make you finish, be good, feel good too.’ He reasons, babbling desperately, slurring and pleading now with Eddie. 

Eddie grips Steve’s wrists, gentle, but firm, making his freeze. ‘Steve, no. I don’t want to, not right now. I just want to take care of you.’ And Eddie’s voice has a hardness to it that Steve knows is final. 

He crumples, the fight leaving him as he curls up into Eddie’s chest. He just, he’s supposed to help, it’s not supposed to all be about him. Before he knows it a sob chokes out from behind his teeth, forcing its way out between his heavy tongue and lips. 

Eddie’s arms wrap around him instantly, folding Steve into his chest. ‘S’okay baby, let it out. My good boy, Daddy’s good boy.’ Eddie breaths, rocking them slightly. And that just makes Steve cry harder. His foggy thoughts tangling together, muddy and thick and why does it hurt when Eddie’s so sweet like this, why does it ache to be held so gently and why does Steve feel like his tantrum is finally being heard. He’s finally being seen and coddled and tended to with kid gloves. Eddie’s here, his Daddy’s here. 

‘It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.’ Eddie whispers, squeezing Steve in his arms. ‘I’ve got you.’ 

Steve bawls. 

-

When Steve wakes the room is dark. He rolls over, releasing the pillow that was clutched to his chest. The only source of light comes from the ancient yellow streetlight out front; peaking through the old blinds and leaving patches of orange across the carpet. 

The bed is empty, but warm and Steve realises he’s clean, with a fresh pair of Eddie’s boxers pulled on. 

He groans, pushing his face into the pillow. Cheeks no longer tacky with tears but his throat is dry from them. He’s tired, and embarrassed. But, while his chest aches, it’s got that familiar lightness that can come from a cry like the one he had. 

He hears the faucet pipes rattle in the kitchen, hears a mug being set on the counter. Steve bites his lip, gets up and pulls on one of Eddie’s old sweatshirts from a pile of clothes strewn across the desk. He takes a deep breath and walks through to the kitchen. 

Eddie is leaning against the counter, curled in on himself and biting at his thumbnail. Staring through the pot of water on the stove. 

Steve steps closer, fingers pulling at a hole in the sweatshirts ribbing, Eddie jumps slightly as he notices him. 

‘Hey.’ Eddie says, in soft surprise. Stepping up close and tucking a lock of hair behind Steve’s ear. ‘Did I wake you? M’sorry, how are you feeling? Oh, do you want tea? I’ll make you tea.’ And he’s stepping away again, flitting around the cabinets and muttering to himself. He gets another mug out and laughs humourlessly. ‘Was already making tea, stupid.’ 

Steve takes the mug gripped too tightly in Eddie’s fingers. ‘You okay?’ he asks, filling it up at the tap and chugging. 

‘Yeah, ‘cause. Are you okay?’ Eddie says quickly. 

Steve turns back, leaning on the counter himself, can’t really look Eddie in the eyes. ‘I’m, yeah. Just.’ He groans, pulling his hand down his face. ‘I can’t believe, I acted like.’ He huffs. ‘I’m, yeah. Sorry.’ He sets the mug down next to him, shifting up to sit on the counter, more of an excuse to still not look Eddie in the eye. 

‘Stevie, I-‘ Eddie starts, but the water is boiling, pulling his attention. He curses gently as he turns the stove off and fills their mugs. He’s made the same tea he’d made that one time Steve came over with a headache and Eddie took the roll of nursing him back to health super seriously. 

It makes Steve smile down at his lap at the memory. But it shifts and he frowns, he acted, he’s so embarrassed. 

‘I, Eddie.’ He starts. ‘I’m sorry for, freaking out. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.’ Steve grips the mug, heat stinging his fingers. ‘I honestly don’t even know what happened, one minute it was like, amazing. Seriously. And the next I got it in my head that it would be like, a huge moral failing, and a, a betrayal or something, if I didn’t make you finish right then and there. It, yeah, I don’t even know.’ Steve finishes lamely, voice wavering. 

‘Steve.’ Eddie says gently, almost sad. His hand hovers over Steve’s thigh, before drawing back and curling it up against his chest. 

Steve can’t hear it yet, can’t stop. ‘You, you were saying no and I, I didn’t listen. I’m so sorry.’ He feels his throat close and his eyes sting. Swallowing it down and scrubbing roughly at his cheeks. ‘I don’t, I never want to make you feel like that, like I’d do something like that.’ he mumbles, sniffing. 

Eddie scoffs, pushing away from the counter and pacing a tiny circle in the tiny trailer kitchen. 

Steve flinches at the noise, upset and, he gets it. ‘I, look, I can go.’ He scoots forward so his feet hit the ground again, resigning himself to a cold drive home and even colder nights sleep. 

But Eddie just groans, burying his hands in his hair and pulling, shaking his head. 

‘Eddie?’ Steve starts, worried. He knows he messed up but, well. 

‘You, you’re just, saying all that like it was your fault. Like you did anything.’ Eddie bursts, voice wet and desperate and Steve’s mouth closes with a soft click. 

He’s stopped pacing, palms stretched out and upwards like Eddie’s begging Steve for answers, like Steve’s knows what’s going on. Eddie must see some of the confusion, the little bit of fear, in Steve’s expression because he draws back in on himself, hands clasping at the back of his neck and elbows pulled in close. 

He looks down at his feet, mumbling sadly. ‘I just, I can’t believe you trusted me with something like that and first thing I go and do is make you cry.’ And his voice sounds wet, and pained and Steve doesn’t even think as he steps forward and pulls Eddie into his arms. Shoulder of the sweatshirt dampening as Eddie clings to him. 

-

Steve leads them back to the bedroom with gentle fingers around Eddie’s wrist. Putting the record they were listening to earlier back on and stepping in close again. 

He drapes his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and his big brown Bambi eyes look so damn nervous it nearly breaks Steve’s heart. 

‘I’ve never done that with anyone before, never said that word.’ Steve starts, brushing some hair away from Eddie’s cheek. ‘But I did today, you wanna know why?’ He asks, trying to keep his voice level, trying to soothe both their nerves. 

Eddie shakes his head, hands migrating to Steve’s hips like a reflex he’s not aware of. Steve takes a deep breath, resting his forehead against Eddie’s for a beat. 

‘Because I felt safe.’ Steve says, eyes wetting again despite himself. He decides to smile through it, pulling back to take all of Eddie in. ‘I had the best day with you Ed’s, how you included me with your friends, and held me while we watched that movie. Cooking dinner together and you kept kissing me on the forehead.’ He brings a hand up, combing his fingers through Eddie’s curls, pushing them over his shoulder. Eyes trailing over Eddie’s red cheekbones and scarred earlobe as the vulnerability of eye contact becomes too much. 

‘And, and then in here you were so sweet, so sweet like you always are, attentive and kind and sexy and, I. I feel safe with you Eddie. You asked and I told you and, like.’ Steve swallows. ‘That word is, it’s really vulnerable for me, I guess. I don’t know why it turns me on so much or why I reacted the way I did but I just think I knew that you’d look after me and you did. You did and it was wonderful, until it maybe wasn’t but that had nothing to do with you, just, something to try. Or like, do different next time, yeah? If, I mean, if you’re okay with there being a next time. Obviously, you might. Sorry.’ Steve looses steam and looks down, focuses on where Eddie’s collarbone peaks out of his old sleep shirt, instead of what might be happening on his face. 

‘Stevie.’ Eddie says softly, bringing his fingers up to Steve’s chin, tilting his face back upwards. 

Eddie’s cheeks are flush, his eyes tacky with the remnants of tears. But they also sparkle with something else. Something joyous and lovely and Steve thinks a whole world of stars might exist within Eddie Munson’s eyes, a whole galaxy of possibilities. 

Steve feels love bloom inside him, swelling his rib cage and filling his veins. He moves in just as Eddie does; their lips reconnecting, feeling and seeking. Bliss-filed. And when they pull apart, sharing breath as their noses brush together Steve can’t help but smile. Smile so big his cheeks hurt. He smiles and leans forward and kisses Eddie with more teeth than lips, kisses and kisses and kisses. 

Until Eddie threads his fingers through the hair at the base of Steve’s skull, slowing them, pulling them apart gently. ‘Come on.’ He says, leading Steve back to bed. 

And Eddie pulls them down, manoeuvring until they’re forehead to forehead and knee to knee. Bracketing each other, sharing air and space and skin. 

‘I’m sorry for crying.’ Steve whispers eventually, into their warm silence. 

‘I’m sorry for making you cry.’ Eddie whispers back. 

‘You really didn’t. I liked it, all of it, that word just makes me feel crazy.’ Steve reiterates, threading his calf between Eddie’s. 

‘You liked crying?’ Eddie teases, no longer tense, no longer sad. And Steve smacks him lightly, fighting his grin. 

And their comfortable silence stretches again, until Steve sighs. ‘The crying, it, really wasn’t you. I just like, wasn’t listening and didn’t really get that you could just, uh. Could just want to focus on me.’ He says, fiddling with the neckline of Eddie’s T-shirt. 

Eddie grabs his fingers, kissing them and moves closer, so Steve’s thigh slots between Eddie’s bony knees, their ankles tangling. ‘What about before, the rest of it, did you like that?’ 

Steve rolls his eyes, squirming, pulling Eddie in by the waist. ‘Yeah. Liked it a lot.’ His cheeks feel warm. ‘Did uh, did you?’

‘Sure did sugar.’ Eddie purrs and Steve squirms again. ‘Got so damn sweet for me, letting me take care of you.’ He murmurs into Steve’s cheek, kissing it. 

‘God, you’re gonna give me a complex if you keep saying shit like that.’ Steve groans, covering his hot face with his hands. 

But Eddie pulls them away, hands wrapped around Steve’s wrists again, gripping them, kissing him quick and soft. Steve’s eyelashes flutter, sinking once more into the blanket of loveliness that is being here. Being held by Eddie Munson. 

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Taglist: @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @whimsicalwadewinstonwilson @marvel-ous-m

@chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor

[the-mortuary-witch]

THINGS I ASSOCIATE WITH MY DEITIES

APHRODITE: makeup, self-care, Lupercalia, kiss marks, 50s and 60s music, the smell of the ocean, white birds, vanilla or cherry blossom scented perfume, strawberry pocky, lacy and frilly things, roses, fairies, rom-coms, pastel colours (especially pink and light blue), pink moon, flower crowns, strawberry blonde hair, the number five, pink lemonade, music boxes, classical music, picnics, ballet, and Friday.

ASMODEUS: card games, money, casinos, gambling, fire, Lupercalia, musky and seductive cologne, the number three, dice, rubies, blood moon, the colour red, every Friday the 13th, cats, pineapple, ornate swords, whiskey, organ music, pentagrams, and Friday.

FENRIR: black metal, full moons, black crystals, blood, winter, Tuesday, the number three, anything wolf related, tobacco, the colour black, snow, forests, animal bones, and mist.

FREYJA: ladybugs, battle scars, full and new moons, cats, motherhood, Friday, sunflowers, Mother’s Day, the numbers nine and 12, freshly watered flowers, red lipstick, menstruation, daisies, the colours gold and yellow, orgasms, vintage jewelry, strawberries, floral tea, apples, and self defence.

HADES: dark weather, blood moon, bones, dark wood, keys, whiskey, cloudy days, dark crystals, Monday, black foods, the number three, cemeteries and graveyards, musk, bats, dogs, musky cologne, hellhounds, coffins, grave imagery, Halloween/Samhain, coins, and darkness.

HECATE: taxidermy, the numbers three and 13, phases of the moon, keys, moonstone, Monday, the colours black and grey, moths, full and new moons, Halloween/Samhain, black cats, olives, crows, dogs, ghosts, veils, dark chocolate, and garlic.

HEL: goth music, darkness, Halloween/Samhain, skulls and bones, night blooming flowers, dark crystals, Monday, the numbers nine and 13, horror artwork, mist, crows and ravens, hellhounds, bone hunting, gothic architecture, bats, mold, cemeteries and graveyards, and blood.

LOKI: sweet foods and drinks, April Fool’s Day, knives and daggers, foxes, spiced rum, kids toys, the colour green, Saturday, mistletoe, red hair, fire, masks, smiling, board games, pranks, the numbers four and 13, jokes, laughter, 13th of each month, and doodling.

LILITH: seductive perfume, Victoria’s Secret, red wine, apples, Friday, dark chocolate, snakes, motherhood, black cats, the numbers three and seven, pentagrams, blood, owls, crescent moons, the colour purple, menstruation, horror artwork, orgasms, red or dark coloured roses, clay, and fancy jewelry.

LUCIFER: leather jackets, cigarettes, musky cologne, organ music, the colours black and red, apples, Friday, dragons, pentagrams, snakes, art and poetry, Lupercalia, the numbers six and 13, black animals, flies, Halloween/Samhain, blood moon, red wine, dark chocolate, good quality cigars, and black feathers.

PERSEPHONE: aesthetic Pinterest boards, the smell of spring, deer, lipstick, Monday, pomegranates, bats, pink moon, menstruation, freshly watered flowers, bone divination, picnics, the colour pink, birds (mainly doves and songbirds), floral tea, animal bones, spring water, singing, the number three, planting flowers, gardening, flower crowns, and bone hunting.

[queso-blanco]

Birthday Blues

Read part 2 here.

Steve hates his birthday.

He knows he may not be the only one who gets "birthday blues" but he feels like it's a lot deeper than just the blues.

When he got closer with Eddie and learned of his own shitty upbringing, he thought it'd be a bonding moment for them. Eddie has to hate his birthday too, right?

Wrong.

Despite Eddie’s mom dying when he was only six, and Eddie’s dad being a deadbeat, leaving Eddie on his own before Uncle Wayne took him in, Eddie loved his birthday.

The Munsons may not have been rich but Wayne always did his best to provide Eddie with new(er) clothes, or dice, or guitar picks. A new album or poster for his bedroom walls. Maybe even his favorite food at the diner--something they didn't do often as they usually survived on box cereal and spaghetti-Os.

And when Al Munson finally rolled into town conveniently around his only child's birthday, well he'd give the sort of shitty, low-commitment gift only a father could give.

And Eddie looked forward to it all the same. One or two shitty presents in six years is better than none when it comes to his father. He'd take what he could get.

So, when Eddie's birthday comes and goes and Steve gets invited to his and Wayne's get together with the kids, and then a later party with the members of Corroded Coffin--well of course Steve goes. And he showers Eddie with love and meaningful but still kinda pricey presents, because he can. And he wants to. Despite the merciless teasing he endures. The look on Eddie's face makes Steve feel like he's the one that got the greatest gift of all.

This, of course, all falls apart when Eddie points out Steve's own birthday must be coming up, and he's right. And because he has no tact he announces in front of everyone who realizes in horror that they've gone years of knowing Steve and celebrating his birthday exactly zero times.

Steve's equally horrified now because now everyone is tripping over their feet desperately trying to make it up to him with cakes and ice cream and movies and handmade cards and weird action figures Eddie probably would have liked better.

It's only after Steve gracelessly accepts all of their gift-giving, and fends off at least three panic attacks and two migraines that he has to put on his bitch voice and scream that the only thing he wants for his birthday is to be left alone.

And like usual, the kids do not listen.

Until Eddie steps in. He makes them go, Robin too, even if she is pissed about it. But they go when Eddie assures them that Steve probably just feels a little overwhelmed right now and needs some space.

He's close to leaving too, knowing he may have made a mistake and should probably get out of his hair... But then Steve starts crying and Eddie has to stay.

It's not loud or ugly, just these little, tiny pitiful things like Steve is trying his damnest to not cry. Like the act of tears falling would kill him.

Eddie cautiously slides next to his shaking form on the couch, careful not to jostle him too much.

He bites his lip as he experiments with placing a hand on Steve's shoulder.

Steve tenses under his touch until Eddie speaks,

"Stevie, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. None of us did."

His parents were hardly around. Never gave him practical toys he wanted, just whatever they thought a boy should have to shape him into a "proper young man", if they thought he needed toys at all. No parties. Ever. He briefly wanted to throw ragers when he realized he was old enough and his parents wouldn't be home, they never were, but those made him feel even worse so he got used to spending the day like any other. All alone in a big, empty house. Not a home.

Eddie continues to rub soothing circles into Steve's back as he lets it all out, explaining his woes as best he can through a sore throat and runny nose. Eventually he pulls Steve into a proper hug-turned-cuddle until his breathing steadies and he isn't shaking anymore.

"I'm sorry." Eddie holds his breath, hoping it doesn’t trigger another panic attack.

"No--don’t be. Thank you."

"For what? Making you cry?"

"For caring enough to bring it up, even if it was a lot. But mostly for being here, after. Just..."

Steve didn't have to finish his sentence. Eddie knew what he was trying to say.

Thank you for staying. Thank you for holding me. Thank you for loving me.

"Always, Stevie. I'll always be here for you."

Steve squeezes him, and Eddie squeezes back once, twice.

He doesn't say it, but Steve understands.

Happy Birthday... I love you.

[vintagerpg]

Another box full of evil. This is Portents of the Degloved Hand (2023). If you don’t know what a degloved hand is, I implore you, do not look it up.

Coffin shaped box. Two dice. Four decks of coffin-shaped cards, one for each hand — death, disaster, disease and destruction (each in its own coffin-shaped deck sheath; as a piece of product design, this thing is one of the best I’ve seen for RPGs). To use the deck, a player sacrifices an omen (Mork Borg’s luck currency) and rolls the four-sided deck die to see where they draw their card from. Then they do what the card says. It can be good, but come on, this is Mork Borg, for the most part they are varying degrees of horrible. Let me pick one now, let’s see…rolled a 4: Death.

Oh, good, I’m still here. I drew Silent as the Grave. “Everything goes black and silent for all creatures within 90 feet, except for you, for d4 turns. Nobody trusts you afterward.” I’m pretty relieved I didn’t turn into a skeleton, tbh.

Fun for the whole party. By which I mean, dreadful and dangerous. Handle with care.

[grizguts]

Inside you there are two vampires . . . Traditional style vampire, and Anarch Bimbo smash the patriarchy vampire. I made some more VtM Coterie Coffins for myself and a coterie member~ @diableriedoll Mug is from Enthralledyet ! Credit for the Altered heart version of the Anarch symbol, designed by QueensCourtsGames !

[aquilacalvitium]

Fun facts from The Giggle Novelisation

Spoilers obvs

The house that the Doctor and the Noble-Temple family are having their garden party in is actually the Doctor's own

Yeah he actually bought and owns a house

The Toymaker's dice do remember how they fell. And they scream.

The Toymaker reads fanfiction

The Toymaker turned the guardians of time into pincushions for a seamstress in Kalamazoo

Charles Banerjee (the bloke who bought Stooky Bill) saw his dad's coffin in a toy horse-drawn hearse

The hallway scene inside the toy shop reads as a choose-your-own-adventure

The Stooky family was once a real family

I'll let you fill in the blanks on that one yourself

The Toymaker explains eternity to the reader using a box of matches

And I'll be honest, it's a little unnerving

The Toymaker wrote Spice Up Your Life

He also turned the Spice Girls into dolls and tied them to toy train tracks

The Toymaker had an argument with a copyright lawyer before his musical number

[thedarkmirrorsworld]

TW: Short mention of tools used for Suicide and a mention Abuse, plus some small Toboso Yana slander.

The Fashion of The Queendom of Roses

What I imagine the Queendom to be like is a place full of cute, yet obscure, and maybe even macabre, things. Their fashion shows this. According to Dice King, there are several in-depth meanings to the Card Suits. I’m not going to go into the whole quotation, but I will give a basic rundown of them now.

Hearts: Though this Suit may look simple on the surface, the Hearts are more interesting than just “love”. Hearts mean passion, which then correlates to the fire element. When going to it’s roots in the tarot, we see it’s parallel with the cups, both of which deals with emotions.

Diamonds: Like it’s name, Diamonds are more monetary-based. They are down to earth and focus on specific things that interest them. Diamonds in the tarot go towards the pentacles, which has to do with finances and new beginnings.

Clubs: Similar but yet wildly different to Spades, Clubs are your Wands of the tarot. They normally represent death and destruction, but in the tarot, they represent your core, your inner self. What makes you tick and tock. Contradicting, yes, and quite peculiar, but interesting nonetheless.

Spades: And finally, the Spades. Similar to Clubs, Spades also mean death and misfortune, but they are more intellectually based. Swords, the tarot equivalent, means basically the same thing. They are the element of air, which could be either freezing cold or scalding hot. They are also the most powerful suit in the deck.

Now, onto the fashion!

Hearts: Japanese Lolita Fashion

Starting off simple, we have the famous Japanese Lolita fashion! I have to be specific about what type of Lolita I’m talking about thanks to a certain book, but anyway. Due to rising social pressures felt by women, they decided to essentially take back their femininity and create a kawaii (cute) world for themselves. Taking inspiration from Victorian European garments, Lolita is known best for it’s frilly petticoats, lace, and soft colors, with many cutesy elements to top it off.

Diamonds: Ouji Fashion

Ouji Fashion is a subtype of Japanese Lolita. It’s basically the masculine version. From what I can find, Ouji means “Prince” in Japanese and is also nicknamed Boystyle. The main garments of the outfits are shorts or trousers, ruffled blouses, coats with tails, waistcoats, and top hats, with the focus being a dainty, yet refined, boyish look.

Clubs: Yami Kawaii Fashion

Due to the mental illness and disorder stigma in Japan, Yami Kawaii has been born. Directly translating to “Dark” and “Cute”, Yami Kawaii has also come to mean “Sickly Cute”. Thanks to the Menhera Movement (menhera meaning a person with a mental illness or disorder), and figures such as Menhera-Chan, Yami Kawaii has really sparked the people’s interest. The main garments are normally pastel and grey-scale colors, with items such as noose earrings, ribbon tied box cutters, painted pills bottles, and syringes with hot pink liquid.

Spades: Gothic Japanese Lolita Fashion

The darker version of the original, Gothic Japanese Lolita has become just as wide spread as it’s more softer sister. Having the same elements and garments, the Gothic style also incorporates a vampirism or church funeral look with crosses, coffins, rosaries, red/black makeup, etc to match the coordinate (outfit). The style was popularized by a Japanese musician and designer named Mana.

Clock Town Event, Based Off Of The White Rabbit:

As we can see here, Deuce’s hometown is more on the Heart and Diamond side of things, with soft colors and accessories, but more masculine silhouettes and cuts. I believe the reason Deuce and his mother are not Hearts or Diamonds themselves is because of their personalities and possibly even their lifestyle.

From what we’ve heard about of Mama Spade, she’s a single mom trying her best to raise an honest son. She even cries when she hears that her son gets in trouble. This might lead one to believe that she’s just a dainty little thing, but then we see her and go “Hot Damn”. Lady definitely went through a delinquent phase just like her son.

We can assume that since she is a single mother and her job is literally the Wonderlandian version of FedEx, the family isn’t as well off as they wished they could be. Therefore, they literally cannot afford to be Hearts or Diamonds. The coordinate that Deuce is wearing is most likely one only for the Clock Town event. For as a Spade (both in name and in aesthetic), he would also most likely never wear that sort of coordinate if it wasn’t for the fact that he lived in Clock Town. This leaves one question: Why live in Clock Town if, A, you would grow up the social outcast, and B, not be able to afford the lavish lifestyle?

My Theory: Mama Spade chose to be a single mom because of Deuce’s father, or someone similar in her life.

As we all know from Black Butler, Toboso Yana has a knack for making her characters’ pasts as close to Hell as possible. Because of this, I personally believe that if Twst wasn’t a Disney game, she could’ve made it much, much worse (even though some parts already are). It would make sense that she would try to sprinkle as much trauma as she could into our beloved Twst characters. Being so, it would make sense that Mama Spade was either abused by Deuce’s father in some way, or would in some sort of peril if she stayed with him (this can also go towards anyone else in her life that would have to do with baby Deuce). The best thing she could do was leave. Clock Town was, in her eyes, the best option for her baby. And in the most part it was. Deuce grew up safe and sound, just with a phase she could remember all to well. Crying over her son being a delinquent makes more sense now, because she doesn’t want him to have to go through what she went through. But everything turned out fine in the end. Deuce grew out of his phase (mostly), went to NRC, and made a bunch of friends that came back with him for the Clock Town event… Except Ace. Like bro. Even Mama Spade ships those two.

But yeah, that’s my take.

Remember, this is just an analysis, so take what I say with a grain of salt. That’s all for Day One! Bye!

[shitposbyopia]

A Collection Of Things In Stones' Laboratory

A dream catcher in a condenser - gotta collect them dream fumes

A jellyfish in a jar - it's not dead or anything, it's chillin

An empty bottle of vinegar - Reece drank it, Stones is yet to replace

A coffin nailed shut - Has someone's soul inside. Stones uses it as a table.

A collection of sand filled bottles - There's other stuff inside as well, the sand is there to stop that from getting damaged

A hand crank centrifuge - Occasionally just starts spinning until Stones verbally tells it to stop

A box with several nooses inside - all are in various different methods of decay. One has mould, another is frozen solid.

A sewing kit with a breadknife inside - Long story.

A singular playing card in a petri dish - Changes suits every time you look at it

A portrait that has been slashed over the subject's neck - Leaks a black honey like substance.

A rat-trap with a set of dice used as bait - Put as high as Stones can get it

A kettle - Barley is convinced the kettle is evil, it's just a kettle.

[fandoms-in-law]

Steve knew today’s gift would infuriate the Party as much as they’d love it. That was his intention with it from the moment he asked Eddie, “Help me pick out a dice set?”

Eddie had looked at him curiously, starting to pull something from his bag before pausing, “For you or one of the kids?”

“For All the Kids!” Steve had replied, already resolute on that much. “They’re only a full set when they’re together.”

Eddie had laughed at that comment, shouldering his bag instead. “That’s a bitch move, you know.”

Steve had grinned then, knowing he’d get the help he’d asked for, and he had. They’d gone to some gaming shop Eddie swore by and Eddie had joked about which kid should have each die. Steve hadn’t seen the need to end the jokes by saying he’d already known which die was for each kid, and that he’d found some tiny bags to put each one in and label so no arguments could break out.

Now was the day the kids got the dice and he’d made Eddie move Hellfire to his house for it, just to ensure as many of the kids got their die directly as possible. Steve didn’t want any switches happening before they at least knew which they’d been given by him.

The Corroded Coffin boys were all eyeing the music box curiously where it sat in front of Eddie’s guard. Steve had gone to move it, but got glared at instead. “Don’t move the scenery if Eddie’s set up a Christmas side quest for us.” Gareth insisted.

“Eds? Can I move the music box or are you including the brats getting their gifts in your campaign today?” Steve called, accepting the chide easily, and wondering if there was a reason Eddie had insisted on placing the tin where it was.

Eddie leant out of the kitchen where he’d been sorting out his band’s drinks, “It is the dice today, right?” He checked.

After Steve nodded he grinned broadly, “Then leave it where it is. I added a few bits for CC into it too, all labelled, don’t worry.”

“Okay, tell the kids from the start that that’s your choice just for today. I am not getting lectured by Dustin or El over being mean because they’re in it for just one day.” Steve agreed, hearing the knock Dustin always did before letting himself in.

“As the King dictates, so it shall be.” Eddie laughed, returning to getting drinks sorted.

Soon enough the campaign was underway, kids scolded for reaching for the tin as soon as they arrived and the rest of Hellfire seeming more curious to learn what the tin was than they had been before. Steve was watching it, purely because he wanted to see everyone’s reactions to the dice, but got pulled into the story Eddie span of a village where gifts of all kinds had started vanishing to a curse.

They played for a few hours before coming up to the music box and while Eddie tried to make a riddle or challenge for it, all the kids barrelled through them insisting on just taking the bottom off the tin already.

“A D20?” Erica asked, staring at her hand where she’d emptied the small bag out. “Thanks Steve, I’ll use this for the rest of today.”

“A D6? Dude, that’s boring.” Mike complained next to her, scowling at his die.

Dustin, Lucas and Will laughed at him, before hurrying to open their own bags; a Percentile, a D12 and a D10 respectively were brought out of them and Steve wasn’t surprised to hear, “Wait, why did you give us these dice designations? Is it random choice? Steve, tell me.”

“Nope, What did Eddie put in for you guys? And do you want to let the DM lead the table again?” Steve replied cheerfully, glancing at the cards the last 3 members of the campaign were holding.

Eddie clapped his hands, “Thank you very much, Your Majesty, Indeed, in removing the curse, you all receive artifacts to increase your power. It is permanent but not a level up. Those with cards, apply what they say to your character sheet. Those with dice, make the following rolls and calculations.”

Stepping back from the table Steve laughed. He probably should have expected Eddie to do more than just include the music box after telling him he was getting the party a shared set of dice.

The Advent Music Box

Author's note: Doing this on a whim and the fact work gave me the music box inspiring this

Summary: Steve is sent a care package from his parents at the start of December

/\

It started with a music box.

Steve’s parents had sent him a care package that arrived on the first of December and in it was some snacks, a few items clearly intended as Christmas presents and the music box.

There was a sticker on it saying there were cookies inside it too but he took most of the morning to figure out that instead of taking a lid off like most tins needed, he had to remove the bottom of the music box.

That was what gave him the idea to fill it and challenge the kids to get the treats from inside. Since they didn’t actually go to his house very often he took it into Family Video, sure at least one of the kids would turn up sooner or later.

Perhaps he could even swing seeing them every day if he said he’d fill it with at least something small for them each day.

[probablypiratedrpgideas]

I've been doing arts and crafts lately, here's some stuff I made! The first is a dice box with "Blessing of Luck" written in D-script on the front. It holds a lot, but after I finished it I knew how I could improve. Then I made a dice bag from the "Peaches" mouse pattern I found from @my-darling-boy , I call it my familiar dice bag, thinking about making more with different animals. Lastly I made a coffin dice box with "dungeon masters dreams" written in D-script. I cant wait to ise these at the table!

[rerollwoodwork]

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1504407391/coffin-dice-boxdaft-draft

Finally getting back in the shop here is my latest offering.

[teambleckpowa]

made my partner a huge dice bag cuz his cthulhu one i made last year is too small for all of his. say hi to mama cthulhu :3

[the-bloody-masquerade]

FOR SALE: Coffin-Shaped Dice Boxes

Perfect for Vampire the Masquerade ;) 

Just wanted to let everyone know that I make dice boxes and right now I have a lovely black and silver coffin dicebox available on my shop. I started making the coffin ones with Vampire the Masquerade in mind, so I thought you guys would appreciate them. 

It measures  3" wide x 6" long x 1" deep, so it’ll fit a set of blood dice. I’ve just got the one available right now but I’d love to make them custom if anyone is interested. Maybe for a certain character or clan you’re playing. Just shoot me a DM and pitch your idea to me and we can discuss a commission price, it’ll depend on what kind of detail you’d like for the lid design among a couple of other design choices.

I’m charging $18 for this one here + shipping, so also DM me if you’re interested in this one. :D