#but my point is this is a sequel to the show where he was the main villain for the entire second half

[remidyal]

So I'm going to start speculating a little about future D20 seasons, just because we're running out of JY and thinking about that makes me sad.

My guess is that we're getting another four side quests, plus the replays of the Time Quangle live shows, before whenever the next IH season is (probably jan or feb 2025). From Dropout's production schedule, most likely at least two, probably three, and maybe all four are either already filmed or filming presently. The strikes may have disrupted this somewhat, however.

We know the names of two from the 5th anniversary video; we also know from the JY FAQ for a fact that one of these two, called "Never Stop Blowing Up" is next.

In the last few years this has been the slot for a campaign not GMed by Brennan or Aabria; I'm going to actually guess that there's a decent chance Brennan also won't be a player though I'm not at all sure of the timing with paternity leave and all. What the season is from that title could be a lot of things, though social media stars or stuntpeople have been guesses I've enjoyed. I think this is going to be a new setting, rather than something set in a preexisting universe, but I could be wrong there and there's been speculation that it might be something Starstruck (in which case I WOULD expect Brennan at the table).

GM possibilities for this or any other season even just from among people who have played on D20 before are too widespread to even do a complete list; highlights who have played on but haven't GMed for D20 and who I understand have experience (and would be excited to see) include but certainly aren't limited to Jasper, Ify, and Anjali from various side quests. Among the IH, Siobhan has made it fairly clear that she's not interested in GMing. I don't know if Ally has experience or not but they would obviously run something wild and I'd be here for it. Lou I believe has DMed home games but not actual plays; I'm uncertain if he'd be interested in running for a show, but I'd certainly watch if he did. Emily and especially Murph have a ton of experience as well but I think NADDPOD is kind of too much for Murph at least to GM outside that. Zac is low-key the IH I think is the most likely to end up GMing a season; rotating heroes is a thing, of course, but I don't think the workload there is as high as NADDPOD's.

We also know a Dungeons and Drag Queens 2 is coming at some point. The most likely format for this is a straightforward sequel with Brennan GMing for either the same four players or four different Queens, but I would actually love to see one of the players from the prior run step into the GM seat if any of them have gotten deeply into the hobby in the meantime. If they swap Brennan out for another DM here, this would maybe be the one season where I'd be delighted for it to be Murph, simply for the makeup possibilities. (One possibility is simply that he wears Cody Walsh cosplay for the season.)

I also think (or maybe I'm just trying to speak into existence) that we will get another 10-episode Aabria-GMed season this year, probably as the lead-in right before the next IH season for the third time running. Burrow's End and ACoFaF are both out of this world, stellar seasons to me (MiMa is... complicated by how much I want the property it's mocking to fade from memory, but that isn't its fault or hers) and I want to see what she does next.

Last, probably between D&DQ2 and that 10-episode season if that happens, we'll probably have another 4-6 episode original. If Brennan DMs D&DQ2 and Never Stop Blowing Up, this will probably be someone else; otherwise, not much to go off of.

It's possible that the live shows end up filling in one of these slots and are treated as a season until themselves, but I think they're going to be released not all in a row but rather to fill weeks between seasons. This might just be a greedy hope on my part, though! I do hope Brennan sits out at least one season, and I'd love it if the person who GMs who isn't Aabria or Brennan is someone who's done less prominent projects. (I'm actually talking myself into really rooting for a Zac-GMed season, though Ify's been my main hope for a long while.)

One thing that does seem to have shifted lately, specifically in Dropout's marketing - in the past, they were always extremely secretive about seasons past the currently airing one until it was complete, with the names not even known until the release of the season trailers. This changed a little when they teased Matt Mercer gming a season (which turned out to be RavWar) during Never After's airing; it's changed much more in the last two seasons, with a teaser for Junior Year coming out before Burrow's End had even started airing and with the names of multiple seasons being given in advance. It wouldn't surprise me if we continue getting little seeds for future seasons as we move forward.

[stairset]

I do think it’s kinda funny seeing Thrawn fans be like “they’re gonna ruin him by portraying him as a villain” like we are talking about this guy right

[nilesmoon]

infinite wealth if sawashiro said "who gives a shit about ebina im going to hawaii with ichi" and then the rest of the game is a family vacation

[todayisafridaynight]

NOOOO RIGHT 'CAUSE LIKE... the way the Arakawa Family specialize in faking deaths already, I'm sure Jo was so on top of everything. And who better to walk Masato through it right... flight's the perfect time to get started if it's gonna take like fourteen hours...

BUT YES. YEAH. Like The Day Of he's just paralyzed with worry and caught between wanting to do something and not wanting to go against Aoki... maybe at most he chances calling Arakawa telling him to be careful, because that's not too conspicuous given his role in the dissolution, but Arakawa just gives him the old I'll Be Fine Worry About Yourself... and, you know, why shouldn't he; they've always had their enemies and he's Arakawa the Assassin, he can handle himself... he can let himself have that fleeting hope, but deep down... and THEN he finds out and has to act like he didn't mean anything to him and has to go back to his duties like nothing happened... OUGH

Can I just say. Literally such an insane fucking series of scenes in Coin Locker Baby. Because you get Jo's despondence when he's saying he might have killed Arakawa--he's being a bitch to provoke Ichiban into a fight, but it's also an admission his inaction played a part, isn't it... and then you get him expressing that he's familiar with Ichiban's need to protect Arakawa... and then you get the sheer desperation and insistence in his voice when he says he could never kill him... and then you get--I'm not totally sure how clear it is in English--but you get him actively saying his feelings go deeper than Ichiban's without really explaining how... and then you get the tinge of fondness when he's thinking back on the old days when Arakawa lived up to his name... Like. Why Did They Do That. Any Of That.

ALSO. GOD. I've gotten so much shit the past couple days because I said I want to lock Jo, Kume, and Tendo in a room for five minutes For My Entertainment. Reading those tags felt like coming home honestly 😭 Like, even Ichi was ready to kill someone over Arakawa, and Jo was out here threatening to disembowel people [in the dub]. And I Think They Should Be Allowed To. As A Treat. So FOR REAL the biggest "I'm so glad we get to talk" 😭😭😭

On that note genuinely so funny that I took an extra ten minutes re-rendering the video because I forgot to put the "flashback" part in Arakawa's subtitles at first but then nobody read it 😭

But it's also something I've been mulling over because I'm delusional. Getting actors as high-profile as Nakai and Takei back for just A Flashback is kinda crazy to me because Arakawa and Jo's screen-time took up a full four percent of the entire game [over ten percent of the cutscenes] originally. But then if it's multiple flashbacks equivalent to that... what exactly is going on here that the past is so intertwined...

And Because My Brain Is Evil there is the fact that technically speaking, Yokoyama only said that line was from a flashback, and specified Arakawa wouldn't be appearing in the main story. Now of course a normal person would interpret that as him reassuring the audience he won't appear in any present-day scenes, but part of me was like. Oh So A Side Story Is On The Table [<- it's not it's fucking not it will not be in a million years]

JUST. WHAT ARE YOU GUYS COOKING WHY IS THE KITCHEN DOOR CLOSED WHY ARE THE WINDOWS BLACKED OUT

ANYWAYS that's enough from me for today I am [as always] glad you enjoyed One Missed Call and Kyouen, ABSOLUTE bangers

YAYA THATS WHAT IM SAYIN YOU GET IT. UNSURPRISINGLY BUT YOU GET IT ಥ▽ಥ

no but thats what i MEAN like i already was jokin with myself like 'jo and arakawa probably had A Thing right lmao' BUT THEN THE WAY JO TALKED BOUT ARAKAWA AND OBVI THE GENERAL FACT HE COULDNT KILL HIM REALLY JUST MADE ME (。・∀・??) AND REAALLLY LOOK AT EM CLOSER THE SECOND TIME AROUND like genuinely for what. it will fuck me up until i'm dead and gone SOOO unnecessary and yet they did it..

wack that people wouldnt want to see kume and tendo stuck in a room with jo like. from what i know everyone is a part of the We Hate Kume gang so. cmon. kume will be shredded into candy floss within five minutes. it'll be fun (๑❛ᴗ❛๑)

OK BUT NAKAI AND TSUTSUMI'S STATUS WAS A BIG REASON WHY I DIDNT THINK ARAKAWA NOR JO WOULD BE BACK FOR LAD8 THAT'S SO VALID TO CONSIDER THAT its that idea that just has me especially wondering what the plan is. im not expecting them to have MAJOR parts (or in arakawa's case too many flashback segments) but they MUST have a SUBSTANTIAL amount to warrant bringing them back right..

[ceramictooth]

i have a lot of issues with the fortune-teller, many of which are like, bigger overall issues i have with the structural setup of canon kataang? its fine i just… boy is it one of things about atla that makes me go “wow this sure is from the mid 2000s” upon rewatch. which once again i cope with by chanting its integral to the premise its a kids show it was 2005 like a mantra

but man… watching aang single-handedly stop a lava flow knowing that it will later be revealed that it was, in part, failing to single-handedly stop a lava flow that caused roku’s death…… man is that heavy

[lordprettyflackotara]

if u think i’m pretty || chris sturniolo

SMUT. 18+. Minors DNI. tw: hate fucking. lots of it. bickering while fucking? idk you get the gist. finally got around to writing about chris. can you believe i scrapped like 5 fics? 🥴 yeah me either! also, sequel with matt if yall want it ;)

part two w/matt is here :)

“Christopher fucking Sturniolo!”

Your words were laced with venom, the staircase rumbling beneath you as you stomped upstairs. Faintly you could hear Matt call out for you, your mind too filled with rage to hear him properly.

Pornographic moans flooded your eardrums as you reached Chris’s room, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. Your closed fist rattled his door, the dramatic moans coming to a screeching halt.

“Open the fucking door dickwad!” You screamed. Impatiently you tapped your foot, deciding he was taking too long. You grabbed the door handle, (surprised to find it unlocked), and swung the door open.

It was almost comical watching Chris and a girl you didn’t know scramble to get themselves dressed.

“What the fuck are you doing in here? Get the fuck out! Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” Chris spat, shoving his gray sweatpants on. For a brief moment you felt bad for the girl, her waterline filling with tears. She was just one of many you had seen this week. You grabbed a shirt you presumed to be hers, handing it to her. You took a deep breath, containing your anger as you looked at her.

“Please get dressed and for the love of God, find someone better to fuck,” You sighed. The blonde was gone in a flash, practically sprinting out of Chris’s room. You crossed your arms, shooting lasers out of your eyes as you glared at the brunette across from you. Oh, only if looks could kill.

“I’m not believing my phone magically teleported into the dishwasher of all places,” You snarled. Your phone had been missing for six hours straight, your iphones location still saying it was at the triplets house. You had dragged Matt and Nick all around their house, searching from the ceiling to the floor. When you had finally accepted defeat, you had opened the dishwasher to grab a bowl to make a snack.

And to your displeasure, your phone was sopping wet, sitting in plain sight on the rack.

“You have zero proof I did that, literally zero,” Chris argued. Your eyes briefly flickered to his exposed chest, the amount of skin throwing you off. You shook your head, showing Chris your ruined phone. “Really? Because I can’t recall the last time you did dishes but you magically did them last night,” You snapped. Chris shrugged nonchalantly, a cocky smirk creeping across his lips.

“What can I say? I figured i’d help out the household,”

That’s it.

You chucked your phone at him, the brunette dodging the attack by seconds. It was ruined away, even the rice method was unable to save your phone. It smacked against the wall, the sound making Chris jump. “Maybe your phone wouldn’t be ruined if you weren’t having very LOUD phone sex with your boyfriend!” Chris yelled. You threw your hands up in the air, completely dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? Why would I ever-” You began arguing, before it clicked.

You weren’t having phone sex with anyone, that was for sure. But you stayed over at the Sturniolo household frequently, to the point where you were there more often than you were home. As much as Chris drove you insane, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. The concept of the attraction being forbidden, soured by years and years of bickering, did something inside of you.

You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, even though you didn’t want it to. Chris snickered at your loss of words, shooting you a genuine smile. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He teased. In a swift motion you dashed across the room, your palm connecting with his cheek. Your tension with Chris had never gone beyond yelling. He had never crawled under your skin so much before, embarrassment seeping over you as you thought about the whole house hearing what he said.

A long pause silenced the room, the sound of the slap echoing through out your ears. Chris took a moment to process what you had just done, before his sharp gaze meant yours. His hand flew to your throat, gripping the sides as he threw you against the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your body in fight or flight mode. He easily towered over you, his sharp blue eyes filled with rage.

“You’re such a fucking whore,” Chris grumbled. He squeezed the sides of your neck harder, a whimper escaping your lips. His grip loosened, his attention fully dedicated to the sound you had made. The brunette tilted his head to the side curiously, as if he hadn’t believed what he just heard. “Did you just whimper?” He questioned. You shook your head no, Chris’s knee spreading your legs apart. Testing the waters, he brought his face closer to yours.

“You know, your little stunt prevented me from finishing earlier. Perhaps you’d like to help me out,” Chris purred, the glint of lust in your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. You rolled your eyes, your heart beginning to race as his body pressed against yours. “If you’re going to kiss me get on with it before I change my mind,” You said plainly. Chris’s grip on your throat tightened, your airway becoming restricted.

“You’ve always been a mouthy one,” He muttered, roughly bringing his lips to yours.

Chris hated how good you tasted, how good you smelled. He hated how your skin always looked so soft, your lips so plump. He despised how confident you were, always charging into everything in your life head first. What Chris actually liked, was that you challenged him. He knew that his infatuation with you wasn’t actually feelings, just raw and untamed lust. But fuck, with your lips against his, it made him want to change his mind.

The two of you clawed off each other’s clothes, discarding the clothing to the floor. Chris’s tongue swiped across your lower lip, before sliding inside. His kisses were rough and sloppy, your body addicted to the electricity he made run down your spine. You pushed him harshly against the bed, his back hitting the soft mattress underneath him.

You straddled him quickly, attempting to take control of the situation. Ever so slowly you grinded your wet cunt against his exposed shaft, a groan escaping his lips. Chris cockily put his hands behind his head, admiring you. “Go ahead, get yourself off just by grinding on me. You can do it pretty girl,” Chris instructed. You felt heat dash across your cheeks at the sound of his praise, your hips moving seemingly on their own.

Curses left your lips as you threw your head back. “Making me get myself off since you can’t do it? Figures,” You managed to say, your movements becoming more desperate. Chris leaned forward on his elbows, watching your cunt slide up and down his shift. “I’d watch your words ma, i’ll overstimulate you until you’re nothing but a cock craving whore,” Chris warned. His warning felt real, the threat in it seeking genuinely true. Even if you didn’t want to believe it.

Chris bit his bottom lip as you shamelessly grinded against him, every little movement providing pleasure to your clit. “You really think i’d fuck as many girls as I do if I couldn’t make them cum? I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Chris said coldly, mockingly tilting his head to the side. Your gaze landed back on the man beneath you, ignoring his cock in between your folds. “Yeah? I thought I was supposed to be overstimulated by now. What happened to that?” You challenged.

He was quick to change positions, your back landing against the mattress before you could think. He roughly spread your thighs apart, shoving two fingers into your cunt. A gasp of surprise was ripped from your throat, his spare hand resuming its place as your personal collar. Chris’s name spilled off of your lips as his fingers curled inside of you, his name becoming a sinful mantra. “What happened? Not so cocky now are we?” Chris taunted, watching you fall apart on his fingers.

The sight of you was enough to make his cock throb, his body craving attention. Chris remained focused, determined to corrupt you. “Open your fucking mouth slut,” Chris ordered. You so without a second thought, flattening your tongue across your bottom lip. He gripped your face harshly, leaning over and spitting into your mouth. “Swallow it,” He growled, watching you intently. You did as you were told, swallowing his saliva. You felt humiliated as it slid down your throat, the feeling euphoric.

“Thats a good girl, now why don’t you cum on my fingers for me? Hmm?” Chris asked. His words of praise made the rope inside of you snap, your orgasm washing over you without warning. Your vision went white, your thighs trembling as Chris removed his fingers from your aching cunt. You watched as he sucked them clean, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so.

Still coming down from your high, you put every last bit of energy into rolling your eyes. “Are you going to fuck me or just stare?” You asked. Chris’s cocky smile fell, replaced with a frown. “Nothings ever good enough for you, is it?” He replied, crawling on top of you. He brushed the tip of his cock up and down your folds teasingly, enjoying hearing you audibly whine for him. “Why’d you destroy my phone?” You asked, your coherent thoughts interrupted by him shoving himself inside of you.

You both moaned in unison, the unholy sounds vibrating off of the walls. “Why’d you decide to have phone sex in my house?” Chris gritted out, sliding himself further into you. He had more girth than you expected, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I asked you first dipshit,” You spat, fighting back a groan as he slid in further. Chris could feel your walls spasming around his cock, the sensation enough to make him cum right then and there. But he knew you’d never let him live it down.

“Yeah? Well I asked you second,” Chris replied, bottoming out inside of you. The tip of his shaft brushed against your g spot, the slightest movement of his hips making you whimper. “If you must know I wasn’t having phone sex, dumbass,” You said honestly. Chris pulled his hips back at a teasing rate, entertaining the argument. “Yeah? So what were you doing?” He questioned, doubting what you were saying. His hips bucked back into yours, hitting your g spot purposefully slow. He was drawing his thrust out, enjoying the sight of you squirming beneath him.

“I-I was thinking of you, alright? Now are you going to fuck me or what?” You rambled, embarrassed by your confession. Chris paused for a moment, soaking in your words. He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Is that so? Well, I destroyed your phone because I got jealous. You belong under me, just like this, taking my cock,” Chris purred, ignoring the embarrassment of his own confession. He pulled back slightly, allowing the two of you to make eye contact.

Out of breath and desperate, both of you panted as you stared into each other’s eyes. “Well, in that case, you better get on with it,” You said weakly. The same cocky smile that you hated plastered across his lips, his hips bucking into yours quickly. Your nails dug into his back as his hips continued to slam into yours, his cock buried inside of your cunt. Chris couldn’t hold back his own groans, your walls milking his cock dry.

With glazed eyes he met your gaze, relishing in the sound of your groans, chanting his name. “Open your mouth for me,” He ordered, his cock abusing your cervix. Chris enjoyed that you didn’t hesitate, obeying him without a second thought. He put two fingers into your mouth, shoving them as far back as he could. “Now fucking suck them slut,” He growled. With each degrading word you squeezed him harder, your body snitching on your hidden desire.

“You look so pretty like this, when you aren’t yapping that mouth of yours,” He huffed. A painful whine came from his lips, your nails purposefully digging deeper into his back. You pathetically bobbed your head up and down on his fingers, concealing your smirk as you heard him in audible pain. Chris slithered his spare hand down to your cunt, drawing fast and sloppy circles around your clit.

“Go on, cum for me. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are for me,” Chris panted. The extra sensation was enough to make you throw your head back, Chris’s fingers still lodged in your mouth. Your warning of your orgasm was muffled, your thighs shaking violently under him. The sight was going to be burned into Chris’s memory forever, the feeling of your cunt spasming around him giving him an undeniable ego boost. He fucked you through your orgasm, becoming preoccupied with chasing his own.

His fingers roughly grabbed your waist, fucking you rougher. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” He admitted. Chris watched, mesmerized as his cock slid in and out of your cunt. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his hips beginning to stutter. You grabbed him by his throat, dragging him towards you. You put your mouth next to his ear, smirking as you told him, “Inside of me.”

You filthy fuck. For the first time your name fell from Chris’s lips as he came, his warm seed flooding your cunt. In unison you both tried to catch your breath, Chris carefully slipping out of you. The room was silent, besides desperate breathing, a knock came from Chris’s door.

“Yeah?”

“Your uh, doordash is here dude,” Matt said awkwardly. You could hear him place a bag in front of his bedroom door. “Thanks,” Chris replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Hey Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time maybe fuck a little quieter, Nicks pretty pissed.”

You exchanged glances with Chris, watching as he shoved on a shirt.

“You heard him, be quiet next time,”

“Next time? There won’t be a next time. Mr.I lasted thirty seconds.”

The sound of you two bickering made Matt roll his eyes, causing him to walk away. He wondered if you both would ever get married, or if you both would hate fuck forever. He shrugged at the idea, heading back downstairs. All Matt knew for sure, was that your moans made him cum the hardest he ever had. And that, was enough for him.

[cherryredstars]

I'm not done with my break, but....

Imagine Miguel or Price forcing you to take just the tip.

NSFW, 18+, Penetrative Sex with afab!reader:)))

His reading glasses slide down the bridge of his nose, his brows furrowed in concentration as both of his thumbs spread the sticky lips of your pussy apart. They give easily, showing him the wet mess between your thighs as you whine and squirm in embarrassment. It makes him chuckle. You're the one who begged him to stop working and pay attention to you. What's the point of being embarrassed now that he's playing with you? Silly little thing you are.

The cold air against you makes you jolt your hips, bucking them closer to him. He has this dreamy, hungry look in his eyes as he examines your pretty hole. A tiny little thing that clenches around nothing and cries tears of arousal. Sweet thing really was crying f'my attention, huh? He whispers down at you. S'mean of me to keep you waiting, wasn’t it?

The embarrassed nod of agreement you give him is the cutest little thing he's ever seen. He coos down at you, and you gasp when the cold frames of his glasses bump your clit as he gives an apologetic kiss to your hole. No more crying, m'here to make it all better, he reassures when he leans back into his former position. He moves his hips forward, groaning when his heavy tip slaps against the wet paradise between your legs. He rubs it against your center, quickly getting drunk on the thick, wet noise that the movement creates.

The underside of his tip, and then some, becomes glossy from the juice you keep spilling for him. It makes his own slit dribble with precum, and he looks up at you. The sweetest pout covers your face, and you sniffle once your eyes meet his. Your voice is so whiny when you ask him to stop teasing, that you need him inside you right at this very moment. His cute baby, so greedy and spoiled because of him. His sweet baby that he can't refuse, but always knows how to teach a lesson to.

His thumbs holding you open gives him a clear view of how his mushroom tip enters your waiting hole with a pop. The creamy noise of his head brushing against your walls sound divine, dragging a groan from his lips. You expect him to push further in, but instead he pulls out to the point where the two of you are barely connected. What are you-? you ask, only to be interrupted by your own mewl as he pushes his tip back inside of you. The smile he gives you is devilish, shaking his head the slightest bit as he continues the slow fucking of his tip. M'teaching you that it's rude to interrupt people when they're working.

You cry out in both pleasure and despair, trying to move your hips so you can sink further onto him. He sees through you instantly, tutting disapprovingly. His hands pull away from your cunt, a large hand pushing on your lower stomach to halt your movements while the other wraps around your thigh and holds it in place. The muscles of his arm flex around your thigh, and he moans out when he feels you clench around him from the display of power. You're forced to take what he gives, whimpering as he feeds your desperate hole his tip.

The warmth and wetness of your walls drives him mad, his eyes half-lidded as they watch. The stimulation is insane, especially when you clench around him in a sorry attempt to convince him to give you more. He doesn't, but he decides to be nice and extend his thumb down, flicking at the neglected bud between your legs. You sequel the moment he starts playing with it, and he curses as he feels his orgasm building. He swipes hard and quick at your button, trying to get you close before he finishes. When your leg in his grip begins to tense, he knows he's got you right where he wants you.

You cry out when he pulls his tip out. Usually, he would hate having his cum go to waste, but he can handle it just this once. His thumb presses into your clit, but he stops playing with it as he jerks himself off. With a few rough pumps, his thick cum splatters against your cunt. It paints your skin a beautiful milky white, and he wishes he had his phone on him to take a picture. For now, he's content to watch his cum slowly drip down to cover your entire cunt. His eyes sharpen as he watches the way his seed follows every dip and shape of your pussy, loving the lazy path it makes. But he's fucked the moment it reaches your aching hole.

Your little hole can't help but clench and throb, trying desperately to coax some of his cum inside of you. So fucking greedy. He has to grit his teeth, the hand on your leg tightening as he realigns his cock. You squel again when he pushes his tip, and cum, through your hole. Can't let it go to waste.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

I assure you, an AI didn’t write a terrible “George Carlin” routine

There are only TWO MORE DAYS left in the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

On Hallowe'en 1974, Ronald Clark O'Bryan murdered his son with poisoned candy. He needed the insurance money, and he knew that Halloween poisonings were rampant, so he figured he'd get away with it. He was wrong:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ronald_Clark_O%27Bryan

The stories of Hallowe'en poisonings were just that – stories. No one was poisoning kids on Hallowe'en – except this monstrous murderer, who mistook rampant scare stories for truth and assumed (incorrectly) that his murder would blend in with the crowd.

Last week, the dudes behind the "comedy" podcast Dudesy released a "George Carlin" comedy special that they claimed had been created, holus bolus, by an AI trained on the comedian's routines. This was a lie. After the Carlin estate sued, the dudes admitted that they had written the (remarkably unfunny) "comedy" special:

https://arstechnica.com/ai/2024/01/george-carlins-heirs-sue-comedy-podcast-over-ai-generated-impression/

As I've written, we're nowhere near the point where an AI can do your job, but we're well past the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

AI systems can do some remarkable party tricks, but there's a huge difference between producing a plausible sentence and a good one. After the initial rush of astonishment, the stench of botshit becomes unmistakable:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2024/jan/03/botshit-generative-ai-imminent-threat-democracy

Some of this botshit comes from people who are sold a bill of goods: they're convinced that they can make a George Carlin special without any human intervention and when the bot fails, they manufacture their own botshit, assuming they must be bad at prompting the AI.

This is an old technology story: I had a friend who was contracted to livestream a Canadian awards show in the earliest days of the web. They booked in multiple ISDN lines from Bell Canada and set up an impressive Mbone encoding station on the wings of the stage. Only one problem: the ISDNs flaked (this was a common problem with ISDNs!). There was no way to livecast the show.

Nevertheless, my friend's boss's ordered him to go on pretending to livestream the show. They made a big deal of it, with all kinds of cool visualizers showing the progress of this futuristic marvel, which the cameras frequently lingered on, accompanied by overheated narration from the show's hosts.

The weirdest part? The next day, my friend – and many others – heard from satisfied viewers who boasted about how amazing it had been to watch this show on their computers, rather than their TVs. Remember: there had been no stream. These people had just assumed that the problem was on their end – that they had failed to correctly install and configure the multiple browser plugins required. Not wanting to admit their technical incompetence, they instead boasted about how great the show had been. It was the Emperor's New Livestream.

Perhaps that's what happened to the Dudesy bros. But there's another possibility: maybe they were captured by their own imaginations. In "Genesis," an essay in the 2007 collection The Creationists, EL Doctorow (no relation) describes how the ancient Babylonians were so poleaxed by the strange wonder of the story they made up about the origin of the universe that they assumed that it must be true. They themselves weren't nearly imaginative enough to have come up with this super-cool tale, so God must have put it in their minds:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/29/gedankenexperimentwahn/#high-on-your-own-supply

That seems to have been what happened to the Air Force colonel who falsely claimed that a "rogue AI-powered drone" had spontaneously evolved the strategy of killing its operator as a way of clearing the obstacle to its main objective, which was killing the enemy:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/04/ayyyyyy-eyeeeee/

This never happened. It was – in the chagrined colonel's words – a "thought experiment." In other words, this guy – who is the USAF's Chief of AI Test and Operations – was so excited about his own made up story that he forgot it wasn't true and told a whole conference-room full of people that it had actually happened.

Maybe that's what happened with the George Carlinbot 3000: the Dudesy dudes fell in love with their own vision for a fully automated luxury Carlinbot and forgot that they had made it up, so they just cheated, assuming they would eventually be able to make a fully operational Battle Carlinbot.

That's basically the Theranos story: a teenaged "entrepreneur" was convinced that she was just about to produce a seemingly impossible, revolutionary diagnostic machine, so she faked its results, abetted by investors, customers and others who wanted to believe:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theranos

The thing about stories of AI miracles is that they are peddled by both AI's boosters and its critics. For boosters, the value of these tall tales is obvious: if normies can be convinced that AI is capable of performing miracles, they'll invest in it. They'll even integrate it into their product offerings and then quietly hire legions of humans to pick up the botshit it leaves behind. These abettors can be relied upon to keep the defects in these products a secret, because they'll assume that they've committed an operator error. After all, everyone knows that AI can do anything, so if it's not performing for them, the problem must exist between the keyboard and the chair.

But this would only take AI so far. It's one thing to hear implausible stories of AI's triumph from the people invested in it – but what about when AI's critics repeat those stories? If your boss thinks an AI can do your job, and AI critics are all running around with their hair on fire, shouting about the coming AI jobpocalypse, then maybe the AI really can do your job?

https://locusmag.com/2020/07/cory-doctorow-full-employment/

There's a name for this kind of criticism: "criti-hype," coined by Lee Vinsel, who points to many reasons for its persistence, including the fact that it constitutes an "academic business-model":

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

That's four reasons for AI hype:

to win investors and customers;

to cover customers' and users' embarrassment when the AI doesn't perform;

AI dreamers so high on their own supply that they can't tell truth from fantasy;

A business-model for doomsayers who form an unholy alliance with AI companies by parroting their silliest hype in warning form.

But there's a fifth motivation for criti-hype: to simplify otherwise tedious and complex situations. As Jamie Zawinski writes, this is the motivation behind the obvious lie that the "autonomous cars" on the streets of San Francisco have no driver:

https://www.jwz.org/blog/2024/01/driverless-cars-always-have-a-driver/

GM's Cruise division was forced to shutter its SF operations after one of its "self-driving" cars dragged an injured pedestrian for 20 feet:

https://www.wired.com/story/cruise-robotaxi-self-driving-permit-revoked-california/

One of the widely discussed revelations in the wake of the incident was that Cruise employed 1.5 skilled technical remote overseers for every one of its "self-driving" cars. In other words, they had replaced a single low-waged cab driver with 1.5 higher-paid remote operators.

As Zawinski writes, SFPD is well aware that there's a human being (or more than one human being) responsible for every one of these cars – someone who is formally at fault when the cars injure people or damage property. Nevertheless, SFPD and SFMTA maintain that these cars can't be cited for moving violations because "no one is driving them."

But figuring out who which person is responsible for a moving violation is "complicated and annoying to deal with," so the fiction persists.

(Zawinski notes that even when these people are held responsible, they're a "moral crumple zone" for the company that decided to enroll whole cities in nonconsensual murderbot experiments.)

Automation hype has always involved hidden humans. The most famous of these was the "mechanical Turk" hoax: a supposed chess-playing robot that was just a puppet operated by a concealed human operator wedged awkwardly into its carapace.

This pattern repeats itself through the ages. Thomas Jefferson "replaced his slaves" with dumbwaiters – but of course, dumbwaiters don't replace slaves, they hide slaves:

https://www.stuartmcmillen.com/blog/behind-the-dumbwaiter/

The modern Mechanical Turk – a division of Amazon that employs low-waged "clickworkers," many of them overseas – modernizes the dumbwaiter by hiding low-waged workforces behind a veneer of automation. The MTurk is an abstract "cloud" of human intelligence (the tasks MTurks perform are called "HITs," which stands for "Human Intelligence Tasks").

This is such a truism that techies in India joke that "AI" stands for "absent Indians." Or, to use Jathan Sadowski's wonderful term: "Potemkin AI":

https://reallifemag.com/potemkin-ai/

This Potemkin AI is everywhere you look. When Tesla unveiled its humanoid robot Optimus, they made a big flashy show of it, promising a $20,000 automaton was just on the horizon. They failed to mention that Optimus was just a person in a robot suit:

https://www.siliconrepublic.com/machines/elon-musk-tesla-robot-optimus-ai

Likewise with the famous demo of a "full self-driving" Tesla, which turned out to be a canned fake:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/tesla-video-promoting-self-driving-was-staged-engineer-testifies-2023-01-17/

The most shocking and terrifying and enraging AI demos keep turning out to be "Just A Guy" (in Molly White's excellent parlance):

https://twitter.com/molly0xFFF/status/1751670561606971895

And yet, we keep falling for it. It's no wonder, really: criti-hype rewards so many different people in so many different ways that it truly offers something for everyone.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!

Image:

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

Ross Breadmore (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/rossbreadmore/5169298162/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[inkedells]

I have a request if you’re looking for one! Your innocent reader with the plushies has my mind SPINNING. How about Joel making her squirt for the first time? I can just imagine the reader getting all anxious about the sensation she’s feeling and Joel realizing she’s about to squirt. I know he’d talk her through it so good 🥵😩

oh. em. ef. gee. thank you for absolutely blessing me with this request

A/N: sequel to my dbf!joel fic featuring plushies, and now squirting (things get absolutely filthy so consider this your content warning for a joel who's so absolutely obsessed with reader squirting). read the first part to this AU here, but this can also be read as a standalone!

words: ~700

joel masterlist

mdni! | requests open but responses not guaranteed.

Joel sat naked, propped up against your plushies just as you were the other night, his legs splayed out in front of him to make room for you. With the back of your head resting on his chest and your legs intertwining with his, he was rhythmically rubbing your clit as his hard cock subtly grinded against your back.

“You like it when I play with you like this, cupcake?”

Your head thrashing, your hands reached up behind you to find his face and bring it down for you to kiss him. The angle was difficult, but the way it forced the kiss to be nothing more than a sloppy clash of your mouths only made it hotter.

“Wore these stockings just for me, didn’t you?”

You nodded eagerly, biting your lip as Joel’s free hand caressed the lace that hugged your thigh.

“You’re my fuckin’ toy,” Joel rasped, stretching the fabric until it snapped back against your sensitive skin and pulled a whine out of you, “Say it. Say, ‘I'm your toy, Joel.’”

“I’m—fuck—I’m your… I'm your toy.” As Joel continued to rub your swollen clit, an urge began to creep up on you, something you didn’t know how to explain—but you blurted out what you thought it was despite the embarrassment of it all.

“I think I have to pee... oh god.”

Immediately, Joel knew you were about to squirt. But he said nothing, instead playing with you even more strategically.

“Joel, seriously, I’m,” a shaky whine when he let the fingers of the hand which was previously caressing your leg, slip inside your pussy, “I’m not lying, please.”

He didn’t say a word for a few seconds, seemingly contemplating something. “Touch yourself.”

“W-What, no, I have to…” You cut yourself off and began to push Joel’s hand away from you in an effort to get up and address what you believed to be “the issue” between your legs. 

Joel immediately pulled you back against him. "You're my good girl, aren't you?"

Tears prickling your eyes, you blinked them away before nodding and forcing your tense muscles to relax.

"What are you?"

"I'm your--I'm your good girl."

"Then do what I say. Touch yourself, little girl, let me show you what it's like to fuck my face 'till you're dumb."

Whimpering, you shakily began rubbing circles on your clit. You felt extremely overstimulated, to the point where your legs were vibrating with it. With rapid breaths, you felt Joel slip out from beneath you and place himself with his face between your legs.

His eyes never left yours as he gripped your wrist and pulled your hand away from your pussy before licking a slow, long stripe along your seam. A few more licks, and his fingers were back on your clit, this time moving back and forth rapidly as his own hips fucked your sheets. The tingling feeling only grew more intense, forcing your pent-up energy to manifest into actions, actions like your hands flying to his hair, pulling on it with fervor, your convulsing torso, and the opening and closing motions of your trembling legs.

Joel saw all these signs and took it as his signal to give you your final instruction before he stuck out his tongue.

“In my mouth, fuck, please. Put it in my mouth.”

You didn’t understand what he meant until it was happening.

With your feet planted flat on the bed and your hands shooting to clutch your plushies, your entire body shook with it as clear liquid gushed out of you in pulses, splashing Joel’s tongue and soaking the bottom half of his face. It felt extraordinary, like nothing you had ever felt before, and you knew the pleasure of it all was intensely heightened by Joel’s receptiveness to it; the way he moaned as he drank you down and continued playing with your pussy, eagerly grinding his cock against the mattress, mumbling praises when he could, telling you how good you tasted and returning to finger fucking you in an effort to coax even more out of you.

“Beautiful, god, so beautiful, I need more,” Joel pressured, groaning in frustration when the stream stopped. “F-Fucking give me—give me more.” His mouth closed around your clit and began to suck. As if sensing that you were about to protest his ministrations, he swatted your inner thigh and rasped out in a voice hoarse from arousal, “I’m not stopping until you give me what I want, sweetheart.”

if you enjoyed, see the rest of my works here!

taglist for this AU: @777-wonders, @scarlettstarletts, @pedrosbabygirl , @deathsholywaterr , @devilmademewriteit , @jakegyllenhl

[roosterforme]

Why Not Forever? | Rooster x Reader x Hangman

Summary: The last night on the aircraft carrier should have been bittersweet as Bradley and Jake show you once again how good it feels to be shared by them. But you soon learn that the boys have plans for you beyond this deployment.

Warnings: Smut, anal, threesome, slight hangster, 18+

Length: 1700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake "Hangman" Seresin

This is a sequel to Why Not Both? and Why Not Again? But it can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley loved that fucked out, starry eyed look on your face as you rode him. You were babbling, barely able to focus, but your every movement was smooth and fluid. You were exactly what he needed. But he knew you'd never end up a begging, whining mess for him alone, and he was okay with that. After weeks of sharing you, maybe he even preferred it this way. 

Your pussy was warm and inviting around him as he palmed your tits and squeezed your nipples a little harder. Your body was slick with sweat, only some of it your own. But the best part was the way Bradley could feel Jake's cock shoved up your ass every time one of them thrusted. And he could see Jake behind you on the bed, squeezing your hips and kissing your neck.

"Look at her face, Hangman. She's so far gone." Bradley gently took your chin between his thumb and fingertips and turned your head, showing off your parted, swollen lips and barely focused eyes to the man behind you. "She's beautiful."

"Like an angel," Jake agreed, thrusting a little deeper, making you just that much tighter for Bradley. A long, needy whine filled the air as Jake whispered, "You never had it so good, did you?" You shook your head in a jerky motion, and Bradley watched Jake kiss away a bead of sweat that rolled down the side of your neck. 

You were exhausted, clenching softly around his cock when Bradley coaxed you to face him again. Then you muttered the first intelligible word that came from your lips in the last ten minutes. "Please." 

He knew you needed to come, and you'd been perfect for the two of them up until now. You had taken care of them before they flew their mission and again directly afterwards, and you'd been spending your nights in their bunk on the carrier ever since. It was to the point that Bradley didn't care who knew about it, and he was getting that distinct feeling from Jake as well.

Bradley leaned forward and wrapped his lips around your nipple, earning another, more intense squeeze from your pussy. When you tried to roll your hips faster, he shook his head  "You're close. Let us take care of you."

"Please," you repeated as both men filled you with sharp thrusts, leaving your head rolling back against Jake's shoulder. Bradley was entranced, the sight of your swollen clit brushing his neatly trimmed hair nearly sending him over the edge. He stroked your nipples and smiled as you tried to buck again, only to be stopped by Jake's hands on your hips.

"Easy, Angel," he drawled, and Bradley chuckled. "You'll get there soon enough. We just need a little more time with you first."

"If you didn't feel so fucking good, we'd have been done by now. But you have a way of making us want more and more," Bradley teased. Then he worked his tongue through his own mouth and watched the stream of saliva as he spit where you and he were connected. He ran his thumb through it and said, "But I think you just about earned it," as you whined. 

"Please!"

He rubbed your clit a little with his rough fingers, spitting again as Jake released your hips and focused on squeezing your tits from behind instead. "Yeah," he agreed. "She earned it. She always does."

The relief written on your face made Bradley grin as you looked down at him working his fingers in deliberate circles. When he kissed the valley between your breasts, he could taste the salt of your skin and feel Jake's fingers in his cheeks. "Never thought I'd be sorry to see the end of a deployment," he whispered, licking a stripe up to your collarbone. He nibbled on you as Jake grabbed at your breasts a little harder so you cried out. "Never had this much fun before."

Then you reached behind you with one hand and stroked Jake's cheek while you teased Bradley's hair with your other hand. He knew you loved the way they worshipped you. All the dirty glances and winks across the common areas really got him going, but they sent you straight to your knees as soon as you were in their bunk. And the thought occurred to Bradley that it would never be this good with anyone else. He knew there wasn't another woman who stood a chance.

"Fuck," Jake grunted, and Bradley could tell by the way your body was rocking that the man behind you was about come in your ass. "God damn it," he groaned, burying his face in your neck and whining. 

You were grinning now as you bounced on both of them, knowing Bradley would make sure you got what you needed. But he had to be certain you knew the price you were paying at this point to be allowed to come on their cocks. Bradley and Jake didn't do this with just anyone, and he needed to be sure you understood that. Be sure this wasn't the last time.

"How bad do you want it?" Bradley rasped, pinching your clit and ramming himself deep.

"So bad!" you cried out as Jake's movements became more erratic.

"Say it," Bradley demanded through gritted teeth, sweat beading on his forehead. "Tell me you belong to us. And not just for tonight." He was close now, but he kept rubbing you just right and coaxing you to keep your eyes on him. "We want you in San Diego too, Baby."

Jake's hands roamed the font of your body as he moaned against your skin, and Bradley watched your pupils grow wider as your thighs shook. Your pussy clenched around him as you managed to say, "I'm yours."

You came with Bradley, your lips meeting his as he fucked you all the way through your orgasm. Your kisses were sweet even as you were a cum filled mess for the two of them, and you let Bradley pull you down with him as he eased himself back onto the pillows to catch his breath.

"She's ours," he confirmed for Jake who was kissing your shoulder as you curled up on Bradley's chest. Then he pressed his lips to your hair and whispered, "Our good girl."

Bradley could feel Jake's softening cock on his thigh as he came to rest against your back. You coaxed Jake closer and closer while you kissed Bradley, and then you shared your kisses with one man and then the other until the three of you were kissing. Bradley couldn't wait to get back to California.

------------------------------

You weren't sure what you were expecting when the guys both invited you over to Bradley's place a few days after the end of the deployment. The three of you had spent that last night all curled up in one bed together, sweat and cum and sweet, dirty talk everywhere. You shivered just thinking about the way it felt to be sandwiched between their strong bodies in every position imaginable. They made you feel sexy and safe.

You wanted more from them, but you hadn't dared to dream that it could continue here. That sharing you had become something they wanted as much as you did. You'd never be able to choose between Bradley's effortless allure and Jake's natural charisma. You wanted both, and you shivered with anticipation at seeing them here on dry land.

They'd never seen you in anything except your khaki uniforms and your most basic underwear, but something was telling you that tonight was going to be a little different. As you slowly made your way up the pathway from your car, you straightened your dress over your pretty lingerie. You wanted them to destroy all of it.

Almost immediately after you knocked, the front door swung open, and you were met with two pairs of eyes, green and brown, raking over your body like they'd been craving you for months. "Boys," you said smoothly as you squeezed between the two of them and into the living room. You couldn't help but add, "I missed you," as you spun around to face them with a smile. 

"You have no idea," Jake drawled, kicking the door shut and closing the distance to your lips. He kissed you, wrapping his hand gently around your neck as he said, "We got you a little something."

His smirk matched Bradley's as the other man pressed himself against your backside. "Something pretty for you to wear," he added, his voice a deep rumble. 

"What is it?" you asked, looking up at Jake as Bradley snaked one arm around your waist from behind. When he opened his hand in front of your chest, you looked down at his palm and saw a gold necklace with two charms that made you gasp. 

"You like it?" Bradley asked next to your ear, his mustache sending a ripple of need along your skin when he grazed you.

"Yes," you whispered, your body already clenching.

Jake looked at you eagerly as he asked, "Will you let me put it on you, Angel?"

"Please," you whined, knowing you sounded exactly like you had in their bunk on the aircraft carrier. You watched his fingertips glide along Bradley's palm, and then both of them were kissing you as he clasped the chain around your neck. The cool charms settled against your skin, and you let them lead you toward the bedroom.

You couldn't be sure who was talking to you and who was touching you in your blissed out state, but you could feel fingers tangle in your new necklace chain. You would have to strategically hide the charms that said Bradley and Jake underneath your uniform shirts when you were at work, because you weren't going to be taking your necklace off anytime soon.

-------------------------

Living the dream. We are living the damn dream. I had a lot of fun with this. Maybe there will be more of these three. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[roanniom]

being bold and deciding to make the first move by kissing his rings before you push his hand up your skirt 🤭

Distracted

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

You're a friend of Robin's whose been in his world peripherally for a while. Like you've gone to the same parties and you've hung out at Family Video and seen him when he brought the teens in to see Steve after Hellfire sessions. You've only hung out in groups and your conversations, though extremely flirty, have been pretty surface level.

But you've got a thing for the quirky metalhead. Not only is he a fucking babe, but he also seems genuinely sweet and is very funny. When you bring this up to Robin, however, you aren't prepared for how she lights up, telling you that Eddie's been asking about you, too. Ever the matchmaker, Robin pushes you into a plot that makes it so that you and Eddie end up alone at his place on a Saturday night (initial group plans are bailed on last minute by all the teens who were threatened within an inch of their life not to actually show up).

Eddie seems unfazed by this turn of events and takes it in stride, cracking open a six pack for the two of you to share and throwing on a horror movie.

"If you want to bail, too, that's cool," he lets you know, even as you plop down beside him on the couch, beer in hand. He's got a self-deprecating smile on his face. "I'm sure hanging out alone with the town freak wasn't exactly on your agenda this week."

"Don't presume to know my agenda, Munson," you tsk, feigning a frown that is already curling around the edges into the smile you can't suppress. "You know how type A I am. I won't have you questioning my to-do list."

You apply the innuendo lightly, but the way his eyebrow quirks lets you know that it lands as you'd intended. Eddie runs his tongue over his teeth while appraising you.

"I wouldn't dare get in the way of your efficiency, sweetheart." There's a dare in his eyes, but you lean back against the couch and watch him over the top of your bottle as you take a sip. You've got time.

As the night goes on, the two of you drink and laugh and tease one another. One movie ends and he puts on the sequel immediately. Some slasher where kids are running around screaming in the woods. The two of you discuss what your own strategy would be if you found yourselves in a similar situation. At this point, you're feeling loose and floaty - combination of the alcohol and the sound of Eddie's laughter. It's got bubbles fizzing in your bloodstream. Your bodies have shifted closer on the couch as time has gone on, and as he emphatically describes something, his hand comes down to press onto your knee. Seemingly just as a matter of emphasis and to ground your attention in his point, but you notice that his hand doesn't lift up when he finishes his monologue.

A thrill of possessive pleasure runs through your body at the realization.

"You know, you'd probably die somewhere around the halfway point of the movie," you challenge suddenly and Eddie's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"I'm sorry, princess, but what?!"

"You know because you're all..." you gesture to his body. The denim vest he's still wearing over his band tee even though he's relaxing at home. The tattoos. The heavy rings on the hand that's still resting on your knee. His fingers flex against your skin when you point at them.

"I'm a badass, you mean? What about my badassery makes you think I'm dying at all?"

"The cool guys always die at the midpoint," you argue. "They get distracted having sex with the hot girls and that's when the killer guts them." Exactly as you say this, as if the universe is trying to bolster your argument, a young man on screen is stabbed through the back mid-thrust, falling down bloody upon his shrieking lover. You glance away from the screen and back at Eddie with a satisfied smirk. "Case in point."

"All I got from that is the fact you think I'm cool," Eddie says with a smug smirk. You roll your eyes at him but shift a bit closer.

"I also said you'd die fucking a bimbo."

"No, you said I'd die fucking a hot girl," he corrects, also shifting infinitesimally closer.

"Oh, so you were listening," you tease. Your hand rests on top of his hand on your knee and you start fiddling with his rings.

"Yeah, and I guess that means you should be concerned," he says flippantly, his fingers splaying out on your knee so that yours have more space to move between them. You're now distracted by the attention you're focusing on his hand.

"Why should I be concerned?"

"Because the hot girl getting fucked by the cool guy dies next," he says, nodding his head towards the tv you had all but forgotten about just as a young woman running topless through the woods, her breasts swinging and covered in her dead boyfriend's blood, is cut down by the killer. You both laugh.

"All I got from that is the fact you think I'm hot," you say turning back to him and mimicking his prior comment. His face lights up with a grin.

"Guilty as charged, sweetheart."

The moment feels right. The electricity between the two of you is palpable and you lift his hand up off your knee and towards your lips.

"They only get got, though, because they get distracted," you posit, pressing a kiss to each of Eddie's rings. His eyes are trained on your lips, his own parted to let his suddenly shallow breathing pass through. "Do you think you could keep from getting distracted?"

"Uh...yeah," Eddie says, running his tongue over his bottom lip. "Yeah I'm sure I could stay focused. Vigilant."

"Oh yeah?" you ask, smiling at how he's already so distracted. Suddenly you're lowering his hand and bringing it to the top of your thigh, right at the hem of your skirt. He takes a sharp inhale. "What's that? Losing focus?"

"No. Never, sweetheart," he says with a laugh, though it's shaky. Without even losing a beat his fingers flex in your hand, the pad of his thumb caressing at the skin of your thigh that he's never touched till now.

"What about now?" you ask, abruptly pushing his hand up your skirt to rest on your clothed pussy.

Before you can even process the next heartbeat, Eddie is on you. His mouth is capturing yours in a soul searing kiss and you can't help but gasp into him. Taking in his taste and scent all at the same heady time. Your hand abandons his on your mound and you bring your arms up around his neck to pull him as close to you as possible.

"If I die, I fucking die,” Eddie practically growls against your lips. “Distract me, baby.”

You laugh but he dips his head down to nips at your collar bone and it turns into a moan. Eddie’s hand starts rubbing blindly at your slit through your panties and you find your hips moving against his fingers of their own accord.

“Do horror movies turn you on?” Eddie teases. You bite your lip and shake your head, looking him dead in the eye.

“No, you turn me on, Eddie Munson.”

Suddenly you’re being pushed back down against the couch. The abruptness of his manhandling has you squealing and you lock your arms around his neck, being sure to keep him close and bringing him down with you.

His kiss arrests your lips again, his tongue invading your mouth. It’s everything you ever wanted. It’s what you’d imagined each time you’d watched him from the other side of a party or listened to him joking around with your mutual friends.

All of his attention. All of his focus on you.

What you don’t realize is that it’s always been on you. At those parties and those hang outs, as much as you’d watched him, he’d been watching you. Learned to love your smile and how quick you were to laugh. Catalogued your stories in the back of his mind as you told them to a riveted audience of all the teens.

He’s finally getting to touch you the way he’s always wanted. And it’s working him up faster than he’d like to admit.

You shift on the couch and it gives him more room to slot his body between your opened thighs. When his hard, denim-covered bulge presses against your thigh, your hips buck, pushing up into the palm which has been applying pressure to your pussy.

“Remember that agenda?” You ask with a tremor in your voice. His hand slips under the elastic of your panties, fingers making direct contacted with your slick core for the first time. You both groan.

“Um…yeah.” He says, shaking his head as if to clear it in order to comprehend your words. The tip of a finger circles your clit before sliding down to push into your hole. You gasp. “Your to-do list.”

“You’re at the top,” you gasp out.

There’s a moment where a Eddie doesn’t react. He’s so focused on pumping his finger in and out of your tight pussy, feeling you around him. Watching your chest rise and fall. But when your words make sense he throws back his head and let’s out a bellowing laugh. His laugh makes you laugh and then you’re shaking in one another’s arms. Trying to calm down. The shared vibrations of your joint hysteria seeming to wreak havoc on all of your nerve endings.

Eddie lunges forward and begins sucking at your neck and the tops of your breasts exposed by your low neckline. Just as he adds another finger to your pussy.

“I can be efficient, too, you know,” he says before worrying your skin between his lips.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you be efficient with your shirt off?” You ask, fingers scrabbling at the hem of the garment. Eddie sits up quickly and yanks the shirt off with unnecessary, theatrical aggression, tossing it away as if it’s offended him. You reach out and trace the tattoos on his chest and he moves to lower himself back over you.

“Mmm, cool guy,” you hum, your fingers passing delicately over his inked skin. Eddie quickly unbuttons your blouse and pulls it open, gazing hungry down at your bra-clad breasts.

“Hot girl,” he responds, pressing his face juvenilely between your tits. You grasp at the hair at the back of his neck and laugh until you feel him beginning to suck on you. Then your hips are rolling into his hand. The hand that’s started to fuck you in earnest. “You look like you’re more distracted than me right now, sweetheart. Maybe you’ll be dying before me after all. That petite mort, huh?”

You’re laughing and gasping all at once. His French accent is atrocious but he’s referencing a conversation you’d had with him and Robin about orgasms the week prior. You hadn’t thought he’d been paying attention since he’d been half in argument with Steve at the time, but now you know otherwise.

“You we’re listening to that? Was - fuck - pretty sure you were focused on whatever Harrington was saying.”

“I’m always focused on you, sweetheart.”

You feel heat creeping through your body as fondness mixes with arousal. You’re impatient and you both push and pull at him all at once.

“Ok I just need you to fuck me, ok? Can we jump to that?”

“Nuh uh, I’m making you cum first.” His thumb presses harder circles into your clit and you cry out. But you shake your head dramatically side to side.

“No I want you inside me now.”

“That’s a bit pushy of you, isn’t it?” Eddie teases, but as he does so he eases his fingers out of you and brings them up to lick off your slick. You’re already unbuckling his belt and pushing down his jeans.

“No, I’m efficient. Type A, remember?” His cock springs free of his boxers and you’re ready to drool. He’s practically edible, and if you weren’t so fucking on the edge right now you’d swallow him while immediately.

“How could I forget,” he responds, voice full of gravel as he grabs his cock and pumps one twice. You lay back against the couch, legs splayed and waiting for him, divesting yourself of your bra and cupping your breasts to keep yourself worked up. “Fuck you’re a pretty picture.”

“Gonna just stare or are you gonna do something, Munson?”

“See? Pushy,” he says, even as he lowers himself on top of you and pushes his tip right into your entrance.

The teasing stops as you both come together with rolling hips and gasping breaths. His thrusts are hard and definitive and you find yourself holding on for dear life. He feels so good and right and heavy and strong and you’re so close so soon.

“Eddie…Jesus Christ I’m…” your eyes are squeezed shut and he kisses your eye lids, paradoxically sweet when juxtaposed with the harsh way he’s pounding into you.

“You gonna cum, baby?” He asks, and there’s playful mocking in his tone. If you couldn’t feel his muscles shaking, proving he is equally close, you would have felt more shame.

“Y-yeah…gonna cum.” You admit it on a whine. He feels so good and then suddenly his finger is between you, swirling over your clit again.

“Already? I guess that’s efficient of you,” he says and you clench hard when you laugh, making him let out a loud moan.

“Stop - fuck! You can’t clench like that,” he admonishes.

“Stop making me laugh then, asshole,” you say with no bite. He, however, bites your neck and laves his tongue over the skin.

“Mmmm, you’re sexy when you’re mean.”

You’re not sure what does it - his thrusts, his finger on your clit, his teasing - but one moment you’re rolling your hips into his and the next you’re writhing beneath him, cumming harder than you ever have before. You practically black out calling his name, so much so that you don’t even notice when he cums along right after you.

You come back to your senses to find him still inside you, trailing kisses up and down your throat and chest. You take a deep shuddering breath and grip weakly at his back.

“You gotta get up,” you say, pushing weakly at him with not intent behind the motion. Eddie shakes his head and buries it into your neck.

“Never.”

“I gotta get up and cross you off my checklist.” You tease with a breathless laugh which he returns.

“You can’t. We were so distracted the killer got us. We’re dead, remember?” His grin is so wide one of your trembling hands lifts automatically to trace his dimples.

“Fuck. The downside to being cool and hot is pretty disproportionate to the upside.”

“Speak for yourself,” he snorts, letting his hand come up to cup your jaw. “I’m staring at a pretty big upside.”

~*~

Tiny tag list (will come back later and add more people): @sacklerscumrag @theoncrayjoy @millenialcatlady @xxcatrenxx @cowboy-kylo

[solarmorrigan]

( @nitro502-the-sequel​‘s tags on this post made me ugly laugh and then I had to write something, I hope that’s okay??)

Wait, no, this is hilarious, hold on

Steve drops Eddie off at home later that night, where Wayne is awake and puttering around in the kitchen making what might possibly be lunch (he tends to keep overnight hours even on his days off, so as not to completely fuck his sleep schedule, but hell if Eddie can keep track of what time of “day” it is for him).

Wayne gives Eddie a nod of acknowledgement and turns back to the pan he’s stirring on the stove. “How was your–”

“HE CROCHETED ME A SCARF.”

This was a little louder than Eddie had meant to be, but Wayne, to his credit, doesn’t even flinch. He turns back to look at where Eddie is standing in the middle of the living area, clutching the ends of the aforementioned scarf like it’s a towel at the end of the world.

“Who did?”

“Steve.”

“Huh,” is all Wayne says. “Is crocheting the thing with the…?” He holds his fists out in front of him, rotating them at the wrists like he’s rowing a very tiny boat.

“No, that’s knitting. Apparently, they’re different,” Eddie says, brows raised and hands held up in front of him, like he can fend off the ghost of Steve’s surprisingly enthusiastic lecture on the subject. “Crocheting is with a hook, like–” Eddie holds out one curled fist, trying to demonstrate, but it mostly just looks like he’s either stabbing something or failing to pick up some invisible spaghetti. He gives up and flutters his hands in front of himself, clearing the image. “He showed me – never mind, it’s – you’re missing the point!”

“And I’m sure you’re gonna tell me what that is,” Wayne says, turning back to the stove before the beans (Eddie’s pretty sure it’s beans he’s smelling) start to burn.

“Steve crocheted me a scarf,” Eddie enunciates, because putting the proper emphasis on certain words will definitely solve the problem.

Wayne just hums. “Well, that was nice of him. Lord knows I can never get you to wear anything warm.”

Eddie groans, clutching at this scalp and then running his hands through his hair. He’s at least seventy-five percent certain Wayne is being obtuse on purpose.

“But what am I supposed to do about it?” he laments.

“Wear it, I’d say,” Wayne replies. “Can I see it?”

Eddie hesitates for a second, because it’s his scarf and Steve made it for him, and he doesn’t want anything to happen to it when he hasn’t even had it for twenty-four hours, but then he decides he’s being ridiculous, because if he can trust anyone with his stuff, it’s Wayne. He unwinds the scarf from around his neck and passes it over.

Wayne’s brows go up as he looks over the close, even stitches, running his fingers over the little ridges Steve somehow made with yarn. He nods appraisingly. “It’s nice,” he says, handing it back.

“Right?” Eddie tosses it back around his neck with a sigh.

“Did you say thank you?”

“Yes,” Eddie says, before thinking back over the moment when Steve had told him that the scarf was for him. “…more or less.”

Wayne shakes his head, turning back to his food with some unfavorable mutter about Eddie’s manners.

“Okay, but I think you’re still not seeing the problem here,” Eddie insists.

“Looks like the problem is that you’re having a conniption over a scarf in the middle of the damn living room,” Wayne shoots back.

“No, that’s– well I mean– no,” Eddie sputters. “Okay, look, what would you do if a girl made a scarf for you?”

Wayne pauses, and Eddie loves his uncle with his whole shriveled heart, but it is always funny watching him try to shift gears when he realizes they’re talking about gay things now.

“Well,” Wayne says slowly, “pretty sure I’m a little too old to have any girl knitting me a scarf.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie groans. “Fine! A mature woman, then. Work with me here!”

Eddie gets a raised eyebrow at the mature woman comment, but Wayne lets it slide. He tilts his head consideringly as he spoons some beans out onto a plate by the stove, where he’s already got toast waiting. He tilts the pan at Eddie, wordlessly offering, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I suppose I’d have to get her something in return,” Wayne finally says. “Or make her something, if I was the creative type.”

Eddie gets another pointed look at those last two words, and he groans again, letting his head fall back in defeat, because he’d been afraid that would be the answer.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to make. It’s not like I can make him warm clothes or do anything useful,” Eddie says, so caught up in the sudden and dramatic realization that all of his hobbies are entirely useless that he doesn’t manage to duck in time when Wayne gives him a not-entirely-gentle smack on the back of the head as he passes by into the living room.

“Stop that. The things you make are just fine. It doesn’t have to be useful, it just has to be thoughtful,” Wayne says, settling into his chair. “So quit standing around whining and go come up with something you can make to woo your boy.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie covers his face, even though Wayne will definitely already know he’s gone red. “You’re actually the worst. I don’t know why I talk to you.”

“You’re welcome for the advice,” Wayne drawls.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand at him, but the quick “thanks” he throws out afterwards is entirely sincere.

He retreats to his room after that; apparently, he has some thinking to do.

[Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue | Ao3]

[mypoisonedvine]

I am literally BEGGING you to write more perv Eddie I was stunned by the last one 🥵🥵🥵

okay okay just because I had so much fun with it!

warnings: smut (18+), oral m receiving, grinding but no penetration, coming in panties, implied/described tickle fetish, slight foot fetish, verrryyy slight/implied watersports kink (nobody actually DOES anything it's just discussed and it's more of a holding kink anyways...), more dacryphilia, choking (with dick not hands), very slight degradation, reader has a thing for balls (we've established she's a perv too okay)

sequel to this drabble

Eddie knew he was a pervert, it was something he learned about himself in his mid-adolescence and had only grown into since. What he hadn't known until that day was that you were an even bigger perv than him!

Yes, you were still innocent in your own way; your experience was limited, in part because of your slightly off-color interests like his. But your mind was impossibly dirty-- you put him to shame, really. And he didn't mind it at all.

"You thought about this a lot, didn't you?" you purred as you rubbed your foot against his crotch-- the white sock moved up and down over the bulge in his jeans, and Eddie had to fight not to buck his hips against you.

"Y-yeah," he choked out.

"Such a dirty boy," you scolded playfully. "I want you to show me how you jerk off to me-- you know, what you think about and stuff..."

His cheeks were turning pink, but he was already hastily opening his belt for you as you giggled happily.

"Mm," you hummed and licked your lips as he pulled out his throbbing cock, gripping it tightly in his hand. "How do you touch it?"

"Um, I-I do it like this for a while," he explained, demonstrating long, slower strokes from base to tip and back, "and then when I'm close, I just do this..."

You watched with half-lidded, dilated eyes as he moved his fist quickly over the head, and his whole cock flexed under your gaze. This felt so different with you watching him. "So, what do you think about?"

"Well, it depends," he breathed, struggling to focus while he was doing this. "Like, there was that day you came over and I, um, tickled you?"

You raised an eyebrow. "You tickle me a lot, you'll have to be more specific."

"R-right, well, I just do it 'cause you're so cute when you can't stop laughing and you're too weak to push me away..." he sighed. "But, um, there was one time where we were right here on the couch, and I was... on top of you and I... I tickled your feet first--"

"Of course you did," you smirked.

"But when I tickled your ribs," he recalled, "you were laughing so hard you started to cry a-and you said you... uh... you said you were gonna pee."

His face was burning hot as you started to laugh. "Oh, you were into that?"

"I-I mean, I wasn't gonna make you, I just... I liked that I could, if I wanted to," he explained. "Don't you think it would be kinda cute? If I tickled you until you-- until you wet yourself?"

You didn't say anything, and something about the silence made his throat all dry and his cock bob in his hand. "What else?" you pressed, and he shuddered as he started to stroke his cock faster.

"Uh... do you remember when we all got popsicles on field day?" he continued.

You smiled and bit your lip. He was already getting closer...

"You, uh, you got cherry..." he trailed off, groaning and shutting his eyes as he recalled the memory. "Kept thinking about your little tongue o-or your lips on me like that..."

"Yeah?" you encouraged with a grin, pointing your foot and using your toes to toy with his balls; his eyes rolled back in his head.

"Yeah, fuck," he grunted. "I couldn't stop thinking about your w-warm mouth... shoving my cock down your throat, and making you-- god-- making you choke on it--"

He was cut off with his own gasp when he felt you suddenly lean forward and wrap your lips around his tip; his eyes shot open and he stared in disbelief down at you as you gently sucked him, his hand still holding the rest as you bobbed your head a little lower with each movement.

"Oh my fucking god, baby," he breathed, "you're so-- fuck, look up at me?"

You leaned back slightly and your eyes met his-- those big, pretty eyes that were far too sweet and innocent to be looking at him like this while your mouth was trying to suck the life out of him.

"Th-that's it, god," he groaned, stroking your hair for a second before pushing your head down a bit. You hummed around him, and he pushed you more-- the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, and he moaned as you gagged. "I knew it'd be too big for you," he grinned proudly, "fuck, I don't mind, I-I like feeling you choke. Can I do it again?"

You blinked at him and he took that as a yes-- of course, he would've taken anything as a yes.

He shoved your head down, over and over, occasionally letting his head fall back in pleasure but always coming back to meet your gaze; you were way too fucking pretty with cock in your mouth. Bet you look beautiful with cock in your pussy...

His nostrils flared and his lips snarled as your eyes started to water, and just as you blinked and those tears fell down your cheeks, you sniffled a bit.

"Oh fuck, baby, are you crying?" he sighed. You couldn't answer, but you didn't have to, and more tears ran across your face. "That's so fucking sexy..."

He swiped a tear up from over your cheekbone with his thumb, bringing it to his lips to taste. You whined slightly around him, and he caught the way your hips wiggled-- you were trying to hump the couch, like the needy little baby you were.

"I bet you're so wet from this," he groaned, "aren't you? Little button's all swollen and sensitive, just from choking on me?"

He let go of your head so you could pull back with a gasp. "Yes," you breathed, licking the underside of his cock, "yes, fuck-- can I taste your balls?"

Well, he wasn't sure what he was expecting you to say, but it wasn't that. He honestly could've busted right then, hearing you say something like that... especially between little sniffles as your eyes watered still from the irritation in your throat that his cock had induced.

Obviously, he nodded, and you leaned in deeper to his lap as he spread his legs wider for you. Your face was buried in his crotch and he felt your nose and lips right up against his skin; you took a deep breath in and hummed happily. "They smell good," you said suddenly.

"Jesus H. Christ," he hissed, catching your devious smirk as you looked up at him from under his erection. "Baby, you're not talking to me about how my balls smell right now."

"I've been thinking about them for forever," you admitted, "wanted to suck them so bad, wanted you to rub them all over my face..."

"Dirty," he announced proudly. His smug grin didn't last long when he felt your tongue lick him down there-- again, again, again.

"Mm," you hummed proudly, rocking your hips again, "taste so good..."

You sucked one into your open mouth, hollowing your cheeks, and he groaned loudly. Letting it out with a quiet pop! you switched to the other and reached up to grasp his cock, stroking it a little for him. "You like this?" he pressed. "Fuck, you like s-sucking my balls?"

You nodded and he couldn't take much more of this; and as fun as it would be to come in your mouth (truth be told, he almost wanted you to hate the taste) or all over your face or even in your hair while you had his balls in your mouth... he had better ideas.

You whined a bit as he pulled you off of him and he smiled. "I'm gonna help you, baby, I'm gonna get us both off," he promised.

He guided you to stand up and turn around, placing your hands on the counter in front of you. As he came up behind you, flipping your skirt up, he groaned and got a nice handful of your ass. He couldn't help himself, he had to give you just one little spank, and the way you jumped and quietly yelped when he did it made his cock throb again.

He grabbed your panties and, when you must have assumed he would pull them down, he yanked them up and pulled the fabric tight between your ass cheeks, glancing down to see the strip of pink lace was now pulling tight between your swollen lips; he groaned and tugged again, watching your hips shiver as the fabric rubbed over your clit. "So fuckin' cute," he grunted as he let go of the panties and you sighed in relief; he stepped up closer and pressed himself against you.

At first, he just rubbed his cock on your soft, smooth ass, but then he pulled the soaked crotch of your panties down just enough to slide his cock in. Not into you, just against you, slowly sliding his cock through your lips and letting your cunt soak his dick. "Oh," you breathed, already rocking back against him; he grabbed your hips tight.

"Let me do it," he ordered. "It's gonna feel so good..."

He thrusted forward and back, the tip of his cock rubbing right on your clit, and he caught the way your legs were shaking like your knees might give out. "Eddie," you moaned, dropping your head limply.

"You're so sensitive," he observed with a groan. "Think you can come before I jizz in your panties, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, m'close," you admitted, "right there, Eddie, fuck..."

"Right here?" he repeated, pushing his cock against you harder as you whined. "Right on your cute little clit?"

"Yes," you whimpered, tightening your grip on the counter before you. He groaned and slipped his hands under your shirt, tugging your bra out of the way so he could grope your chest. "Fuck, play with my nipples, please," you begged.

He moaned and did what you asked, thrusting faster against you as he toyed with your hard nipples, pinching them between his fingers. "Such pretty tits," he groaned, "been thinking about them for so long-- you wanted me to touch them, didn't you?"

You nodded and he felt his cock starting to flex.

"God, baby, come all over my dick," he instructed gruffly. "Want that little slutty pussy to soak me, c'mon, do it--"

You moaned his name loudly and he was done for, he gasped as he started to spray his load right there inside your panties. His eyes fell shut while his mouth fell open, and his head tilted back as he soaked the lace even better than you had.

He jumped when he felt you reach one of your hands back and squeeze his balls. "Fuck, baby--"

"Want all of it," you explained breathlessly, "want all your come, Eddie, please?"

"F-fuckin' Christ," he choked, but he kept thrusting erratically until every drop was in your cute panties.

Stepping back, he pulled them up again to make sure all that come was right up against your pretty folds, though the excess was already beginning to run down your thighs. "That was so hot," you breathed.

"You know you have to wear these for the rest of the day, right?" he smirked at you, pulling his jeans and boxers back up as he buckled his belt.

"You know that's all I ever wanted, right?" you replied with a wink.

[greenfiend]

The Significance of Lover’s Lake and Byler (Theory) Part 2

Sequel to this post

(Warning: mentions of sex and drugs)

Okay so first of all, if you haven’t seen my previous post on my theory involving Lovers Lake and Byler, please read it first. I go over my theory and predictions for Byler and the heart shaped lake. This is a secondary post to it, outlining some VERY interesting details involving the owner of the lakeside house, the lakeside house itself, and all the romantic and sexual elements present. I’m saving the best for last here.

Let’s start with the owner of the lakeside house.

Reefer Rick

So I recently made a silly post arguing that the most queer coded character in Stranger Things is not Mike nor Will (nor Robin, Henry, Eddie etc), and I stand by this statement. The most queer coded character is: Reefer Rick. Now, I know we never see the guy, but literally all the information we have on him is either queer coding or drug references.

Synonyms of his name are literally f*g Dick, with a shared last name with the famous tea company founder who so happens to have been a homosexual: Lipton.

We know he doesn’t have a family, thus he’s a single man who occasionally has his buddy/fellow dealer Eddie stay over. Hm, not very heterosexual of him.

Then we have his movie list.

Now, as many of us know, the movie “Fast Times” is used within Stranger Things as a way to gage if someone is attracted to women or not. We have Steve, Dustin, Lucas, and Vickie all confirmed to have enjoyed this movie… specifically for that shot at 53 minutes and 5 seconds. Sure, Reefer Rick rented the film, but why is it the only movie he rented that was returned on time? For context, he’s the only character who had films listed as “late” returns. So, he obviously enjoyed Cheech & Chong a lot more. Two guys doing drugs is more interesting to him than a sexy lady. Okay, noted.

Now, how is he perceived by the people of Hawkins?

Oooof. Okay. He’s not well liked it seems. He apparently is causing some fear and anger amongst the Hawkins residents. Kind of similar of a reaction these people would have towards an openly gay man during the 1980s.

Also I have to include @/conflictofthemind ‘s excellent point that injectable drug use and unprotected sex (specifically between two men) were both commonly associated with HIV/AIDS… a major epidemic during the 80s and a major subtextual theme within the show.

Now, where’s this guy live while outside of jail?

I don’t blame the guy for “hiding” when the town is not too fond of him. Of course he is a drug dealer so there’s that as well. But interesting they used the word “hide”, which has been associated with queerness within the show already (plus this line was said by Robin (featured in the middle of the shot!!!) who is queer herself).

(Both of these screenshots are from 1x02 interestingly enough.)

Wouldn’t it make sense for these two “hiders” to hide out in “a perfect place to hide” together? Seeking refuge in a fellow gay man’s secluded house?

I will say it’s also worth noting that he does not have any women featured on the walls within his house. Also, he has a phallic shaped bong (we’ll get back to that soon).

Phew okay so that’s Reefer Rick. Are you still with me? Hopefully I didn’t bore any of you with this. I promise you this all leads back to Byler.

So, moving on to his house.

So as @/therainscene kindly pointed out, this poster with the smiley face can be related to rave culture and ecstasy in the 1980s. So a drug reference, in a drug dealer’s house… shocker I know. But I gotta say, ecstasy is also a term often related to sex. I also have to add this little tidbit from one of our favourite directors of Stranger Things, Shawn Levy. Keep in mind, he knows what’ll happen in the next season… and he’s directing episodes after 3 and 4…

Interesting word choice, no?

So, back to the symbolism within (and near) the house.

Let’s talk about the phallic symbolism that appears in pairs in these shots. It’s a choice, isn’t it? With two males in each shot. We know the Duffers love details and foreshadowing… I doubt it’s a coincidence. Also, anyone else notice that phone in the background? Just had to mention it, since our boys are frequently associated with phones and calls.

Then, of course, I gotta bring back this shot.

The bed. Blue meets yellow. You know it! We all heard it a thousand times by now. Let’s look at what else is in the shot. A closed closet. Another reference to our boys. To the right, you’ll see a toilet paper roll. Now, if you have a brother, you might see the same thing in his room. Sure it can be used as a tissue for your nose but let’s just say there’s usually another use for it. I’ll call it “self love”. So, basically, another sexual reference.

To sum up this house: lake/water, drugs, and ecstasy/smiley face. Now, let’s go back to a scene featuring our boys with all these elements in the background.

Makes you wonder doesn’t it?

I must also point out the “Paris” poster in the background. City of love, anyone? Plus the fireworks. They’re really trying to tell us something here.

Also, @/foodiewithdahoodie pointed out how Paris specifically was one of the first places to decriminalize sodomy.

You know, I also wouldn’t rule out every aspect of Murray’s prediction here.

Shout out to the Hylers out there!

Perhaps after a lot of stressful days of fighting interdimentional demons, these boys want to wind down and de-stress in their hiding spot. I can see Reefer Rick as a fellow Nintendo player, leaving his console behind, as well as his weed, for our boys to use. I also wouldn't be surprised if Eddie left a few of his beers behind. I mean… Murray has a pretty good track record for predictions. This would also really double down on the message that Mike and Will “aren’t kids anymore.”

Also, wouldn’t it be fun to look back at Murray’s predictions and realize that they’ve all come to be?

Okay, now let’s finally get to the romance elements!

First thing I want to start with is this shot:

So… they had to show us a mailbox, didn’t they? With that name “Lipton” which as I mentioned in my previous post… is associated with Thomas Lipton who had a lover named William Love.

1 point for #lettergate

And…

“Hope Our Love Lives/Lasts And Never Dies”

WWII solders used the acronym H.O.L.L.A.N.D. to convey a love message in a letter. The whole love letters association with Mike and Will never end, do they?

2 points for #lettergate!

As for the “2121”, I think it’s possible that it’s referencing multiple things… number references are tricky like that in my opinion. But I will say that @/thestrangestthing89 brought up the fact that “2121” could be a reference to “Twin Flames” which is yet another reference to romance.

Continuing on with the romance…

Let’s return back to the scene where Reefer Rick is first mentioned. After Max mentioned him, we are cut to Steve talking about a movie.

A movie filled with action and romance, you say?

So… Doctor Zhivago.

Basically a tale of two people in love during a difficult time (Russian Revolution) being separated, with other people, then finally reunited. Not completely unlike our boys. Notice how the “adult” sign is noticeable in the background. Not kids anymore.

He mentions action, which I’m sure there will be some of as well at the famous lake.

Okay enough with the silly details, let’s stop and look at the bigger picture.

Our beloved lake. Look how gorgeous it truly is. Plus the fact that it’s a literal heart? You can’t get more “on the nose” than that.

Now, who else is known as a heart? (Tough question I know…)

This boy is, without a doubt, narratively tied to the lake. He is “the heart”… he is THE LAKE (symbolically).

Thank you to @/everaster for bringing attention to the fact that after Mike was pushed to deliver that monologue to El by Will, Max “died”, then the gates opened WIDE. One of those gates, as we know, is located within Lover’s Lake… known was “watergate” (term coined by Dustin).

So, as of now in this story… Lover’s Lake is literally broken in two. A broken heart in need of mending.

Who better to accomplish that task than the boy who has known him for a decade and loves him completely and selflessly?

💌📬❤️‍🩹

Hope you enjoyed these posts as much as I enjoyed making them! It’s honestly so much fun looking for evidence and finding such interesting stuff. Some of it may be reaching, and that’s okay because it’s all in good fun! That’s what fandoms are all about.

The level of attention to detail in this show never ceases to amaze me! There’s so much depth and clues to look for and play around with. I hope to have sparked some inspiration and creativity for some people! 💛💙💚

As always, would love to know your thoughts!

[writerswall26]

First Time In Years

Synopsis: Y/N is an action star who's dubbed as Tom Cruise Jr. she was in a relationship with Jenna for a while before the two of them broke up due to Jenna's uprising status in the industry. The two of them happened to bump into each other at an award show and time stopped when they saw each other again.

Warning: Bad writing, Feels.

Words: 1.1k

Masterlist

A/N: I was feeling a bit bored then this popped in my head so I thought I'd share it to you guys. Happy Reading!

You've been away from the entertainment lime light for a couple of years because of an accident that happened in a production you were doing a few years ago.

During those times you were down and under, one person stuck by your side and supported you, from recovery, to therapy, to getting back in shape. You'd never ever forget that person, she was the one for you, you believed that. But fate had something instilled for the both of you. She was an uprising superstar, you did not want to hold her back. So you did what you thought was best at the time, you broke up with her.

A few years back, you were not so sure you're gonna be back into doing action films due to an accident you had on a set that left you bed bound for at least 3 months. You thought your time in doing actions was done by that point. But here you are, leading a sequel from one of the best action films of all time, Top Gun: Maverick. Your Godfather pushed you to be in this movie, quoting "you're gonna be my successor, I want you in this movie". So yeah, what Tom Cruise asks, he shall get. And today, you're back in an award show with your castmates.

Today, you're gonna have to face that person again. You're not entirely sure what would happen, or if anything would happen at all. You haven't seen her since you two broke up, but you did follow her activities. Watch her series, movies, anything that would update you of what she's been up to. And you couldn't be more proud of what success she'd had. She was becoming a household name and she's still getting bigger and bigger as the time goes by.

So, when you saw her being interviewed wearing a wonderful dress, you could not help but stare, you're shameless about that, but can you blame yourself? She was looking beautiful. She looked more mature now, her long hair cut shorter, she looked more of a woman now, it's crazy what time did to her. She looked more beautiful, she's always been beautiful in your eyes.

"Stop staring and start approaching, kid." She heard Miles whisper in her ears.

Y/N turned to her castmate and gave out a chuckle. "I don't think that's a wise idea."

Miles looked confused. "Why is that?"

Y/N shrugged. "Let's just say we want to leave it where it was left." She said before she walked on. Miles was still confused as he followed her inside with their team.

"So, who's that girl you were looking at lovingly outside?" Glen asked as soon as they got to their table.

Y/N groaned, not wanting this topic to be the talk of the entire night.

"She's just... some I used to know, okay?" She told them, pleading for them to stop asking questions.

The older men and women got the signal as soon as they heard her frustrated voice, and thankfully, they did not continue to ask.

The entire show, Y/N would steal glances to look at the girl she's watching outside. She couldn't help it. It's been so long. Of all the places, she never thought she'd be seeing her here, with a guy she knows has been linked to the girl.

"I'm gonna go to the toilet real quick." Y/N told her mates and went without waiting for a reply.

She did her business and was about to leave when she stopped on her track as she was face to face with the girl she's been eyeing the entire time. She looked as shocked as Y/N, her eyes widened.

Should've tried to hold it in. Y/N thought.

The two of them stood there, in the middle of the comfort room, staring at each other with wide eyes. No one made an attempt to move, or even to speak. It's like they're stuck in a dimension where they're just there, standing and staring at each other.

Y/N was the first to move, to get back to her senses. She gave out a small chuckle, thinking how dumb they probably look inside the toilet room, just staring at each other.

She cleared her throat, getting the attention of the girl in front of her. "Well, you look extremely lovely." Y/N said genuinely, smiling.

The girl in front of her giggles as well, her dimples showing. Y/N always loved those cute dimples, and she most definitely loved the sound of those cute giggles.

"It's so weird that the first time I see you after so long, we're in a comfort room." Jenna said, giving out a giggle again, lowering her head, shaking it lightly.

Y/N laughed with Jenna as well. The two of them looked like madmen inside the comfort room.

"How have you been?" Y/N asked when they finally calmed down.

Jenna's smile never left her face. "Good. I've been good. You?"

Y/N nodded. "I'm getting by. Trying to get back on my feet."

Jenna nodded, then she looked at Y/N from head to toe. She never thought she would see the taller girl again. Ever since they broke up, Y/N seemingly went under the radar, like she was hiding, not wanting anyone to find her. But here she was, standing tall and healthy.

"I saw the film. I thought you weren't gonna get back to it. Was afraid I'd heard on the news that you broke something again." Jenna admitted, making Y/N's heart jump at the thought that Jenna was still worried about her after all these times.

"I wasn't expecting to get back in action as well. Just tried to bring back the old me, but did not expect to get back."

Jenna nodded. "What made you take the film?"

Y/N grinned. "Tom Cruise."

Jenna giggled again. "Ah, of course. Can never say no to the godfather." She said, causing the both of them to share a small laugh.

"You realize we're really catching up inside a freakin' comfort room, right?" Y/N said, giving Jenna one of those weird looks she loves to give.

"Yeah, I know it's weird, and disgusting."

Y/N just shook her head. She stared at Jenna for a moment, taking all of her in. She's still as beautiful as before, maybe even more. But one thing's for sure, she's still the Jenna she knows, nothing has changed.

"Congratulations on everything you've achieved. I'm extremely proud." Y/N turned serious, but the smile on her face never left.

"Congratulations on getting back to the screen, I'm extremely proud." Jenna replied.

The two of them stared at one another, before Y/N broke their eye contact.

"I'll see you around, Jenna." She finally spoke.

"See you around, Y/N."

And they both left it at that. Their hearts are full knowing the sacrifice both of them made blossomed into something bigger than they both expected. That would stay in both their hearts forever.

[strawhbrrries]

Cowgirl

pairing: dbf!southern!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: a trip to the store with your dad’s best friend ends in a lack of a swimsuit and the feeling of his beard scratching you forever engraved in your mind.

warnings: age gap (reader is 22, frank is 52), use of pet names, dirty dirty thoughts!!!, mention of a divorced dad?, fingering, no real sex, bearded frank <3, no mentions of y/n, no descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 2711 words

author’s note: the line “ride cowgirl” in pyramid by frank ocean inspired this whole fic, which i kinda wanna make into multiple fics?? a story if you will?? anyway, i think this is a huge step up from my last writing piece so please enjoy :)

read the sequel ride, cowgirl !

“I'm telling you to loosen up my buttons, babe.” You sang along to the song blaring from your dad’s speaker, you hijacked it when he went inside to get more beer for him and his friends, swinging your hips and slowly spinning in a circle. Your music was way better than his divorced dad rock music, which you secretly enjoyed, and if you were going to enjoy the get together he was throwing you were absolutely going to play your own music. 

“But you keep fronting.” Tiffany, your long time best friend, sang back into the imaginary microphone in her hand as she pranced around you in a circle. The two of you putting on a performance to the imaginary crowd in your backyard, or so you thought. Twenty feet away, sitting in perfect position across the fire to watch you swing your hips around, was your dad’s best friend Frank.

Frank was only half listening to the conversation between the men around him, he was more focused on the way you danced and how it was making him rethink every decision he ever made and was about to make, his knuckles going white from the grip he had on the bottle in his hand. Sure, he’d always known you were a gorgeous girl but something about tonight was different. The fire barely illuminating your skin softly had him wanting to slide behind you as your hips moved in time with the song, his lips dragging across the skin of your neck before moving to your ear where he whispered promises of what he’d do to you later. He took a sip of the lukewarm beer, watching you for a second more before turning back to whatever bullshit conversation that was going on. It paled in comparison to you. Currently, everything did. 

The summers in Texas were your favorite, the air was never too humid and warmed you up when the wind came through at night, the lightning bugs never failed to show up every night and lit up the trees if you paid enough attention. Truthfully you were biased, but the thing that made them truly the best was having no true responsibilities again and you would always enjoy that, especially when your beloved dad bought your alcohol for three months. One of your favorite perks was the swimming pool, you were either swimming with a few of your friends or tanning on the side but you were almost always found by it. The swimsuits you typically donned weren’t the slightest bit modest, and now wasn’t any different. You were barely covered in a green bikini, the top consisting of two triangles and a string, and the bottoms high cut and covered with a mesh skirt. 

“Castle, how’s work been man? Ain’t heard much bout it ‘n normally ya don’t shut up bout it.” Goddamnit is all Frank thought as your dad dragged him back into the conversation, ruining the imagery in his head. If looks could kill, the one he shot your dad would’ve murdered him beyond recognition. “‘s alright, busy. Always picks up in the summertime. Ready to have some more downtime, spend it with family.” More like with your daughter. 

“I hear ya. Promise ol’ girl over there we’d do some family shit this summer, if business keeps the way it is I ain’t too sure how well I can keep that promise.” Your dad responded, pointing you out to the guys as if Frank hadn’t been oogling you all night. You and Tiff had stopped dancing to the music and instead opted to sitting with your legs in the pool, gossiping about town drama and Tiff’s newest boy of the week. 

“Understandable, if ya’ll need anything just holler at me.” Frank responded, ready for the conversation to be done, ready to continue watching you like a creep from afar. He’d be a creep if it meant staring at you all night, he’d be a creep if it meant a chance to feel your hair wrapped around his hand while he-

“Dad, Tiff and I are going to get snacks from the gas station!” You called out happily, ripping Frank out of his delusion with the angelic smile of yours, walking over to the group of men surrounding the fire. 

“C’mere, I’ll give you my card so you can get some more drinks.” You happily grabbed the card from your dad, bending over to give him a small hug. Frank was no better than the next man, he scratched at his scruff as he admired the way the green of your bikini complimented the tan skin threatening to spill from the lack of support. 

“Frank, can you drive us? It’s dark and neither of us wanna drive.” It was like the perfect opportunity fell right into his lap and he’d be damned if he wasn’t taking it. The smile you were flashing him made him want to get down on his knees and beg, a god he wasn’t sure existed for, forgiveness for what he was about to do. 

“Course darlin’, let me get my wallet.” He looked at your dad who seemed to have no qualms about the situation before getting out of the chair, placing his mostly empty bottle of now warm beer on the ground and following you into the house. 

“I’m gonna go put a shirt on, give me a second.” Up until tonight, much like Frank with you, you hadn’t noticed how attractive he was. Older men had always excited you but this was different. Frank was big, strong, rough around the edges but had that southern hospitality you loved. You couldn’t help but think about how his scruff would feel rubbing against your skin, would it leave redness in its wake? would it help spur your orgasm as he fucked you with his fingers? 

You picked up some oversized t shirt that probably once belonged to your dad and put it on, shaking your head as if it would get rid of the thoughts. 

“Hey, I’m gonna head out. Horrible timing I know! But y’know, boy of the week is calling.” Tiff spoke, her expression clearly apologetic, giving you a hug and promising to make plans for later this week before grabbing her things and leaving.

“So for taking so long, got caught up in my thoughts.” Of you. You smiled softly, suddenly aware of how the sun had brought out freckles you didn’t know he had and how muscular he truly was.

“‘S alright, lets get goin’ ‘for your dad starts wonderin’.” He matched your smile, placing his hand on the small of your back as the two of you walked out of the house and to his truck. You were painfully aware of how big his hands felt, triggering your mind to think about his fingers. You rubbed your thighs together to relieve some of the tension aching at your core, it felt so taboo to lust after a man your dad’s age. Not just his age! His own best friend! 

The trip to the gas station was uneventful, unfortunately, the two of you exchanged conversation like the tension wasn’t thick enough to cut. Like Frank’s jeans were getting uncomfortably tight and your bikini bottoms uncomfortably wet. Like neither of you wanted to jump the bones of the other person.

“Hey, Frank?” You asked softly, trying to gain the courage to ask the question you wanted the answer to.

“Darlin’?” He put the car in park, looking over at you expecting you to call him every disgusting name under the sun for his thoughts about you tonight.

“Do you, uhm…”

“I’m not a mind reader, baby.” At first you thought you imagined the word, that he didn’t actually say it but it was your imagination fueling the growing fire you had for Frank Castle. But he did say it, and he did it on purpose. Testing the waters, seeing how far he could go without making you uncomfortable. 

“Have you ever been with someone younger?” Not the fucking question, idiot. You scolded yourself, you didn’t want to know the answer to this. What if his answer was yes and you were imagining his interest in you, that you weren’t special. 

“No, I uh haven’t. Not yet, anyway.” There he went again, saying things that made you think you were imagining it. Maybe you’d wake up any minute and none of it was real. He could see the wheels turning in your head, you were a smart girl and he knew that. 

You, timidly, leaned over the console of his truck and experimentally ran your fingers through his scruff. You’d never been with a man, much less a man with a beard, you’d only been with what your father classified as boys. Frank leaned into your touch, placing his hand on top of yours and dragging it to his lips. Placing kisses on your palm, keeping eye contact with you. You were having trouble breathing, he was going to kill you. The beautiful hunk of a man was going to be the cause of your death, you’d make sure Tiff had it written on your tombstone. “Death by Frank Castle.”

Frank let your hand drop into your lap, threading his own hand through your hair to grab the back of your head and pull you closer to him. He leaned forward to meet you halfway, eyes scanning your face just taking in your beauty. His lips were made to fit yours, you were convinced, moving in motion with yours. His beard scratching your skin deliciously, his fingers wrapping themselves in your hair, his scent. He was everywhere, he consumed you. 

“Need you, Frank please.” You breathed, pleading with him. “Need you so bad, need to feel you, your fingers.” You carried on, your voice sounding like you were on the verge of tears. 

“Baby, not here.” He spoke softly, committing the way you sounded to memory for him to reference later when he was alone, “I’ll get you off though. Make you cum, all over my seat.” 

His words eliciting a whimper, you’d take anything he was willing to give you. It didn’t matter that anyone could see into his truck at any moment, made the situation so much more intense. He tapped your thigh, signaling he wanted you to open your legs. 

Frank let his fingers dance over the exposed skin your lack of pants left, dragging them up your thighs slowly. Painfully slow. He left open mouth kisses down your neck, occasionally biting and soothing the bite with his tongue. What felt like a decade later his middle finger traced your clothed folds, chuckling into your neck at how wet you were. You bucked your hips at the stimulation, earning another chuckle from the man in the driver’s seat, you were dying to receive some more stimulation from him. At this point, you’d sell a kidney and probably your soul to just have a singular finger inside you. You’d probably sell his soul too.

He dipped a finger underneath your swimsuit, groaning at how wet you truly were and that he was the cause of it all. His dreams were, partially, coming true and he needed to thank the heavens and the stars. Your moans and whimpers were music to Frank’s ears and he’d do anything and everything to keep them coming, to keep those angelic noises from leaving your pretty mouth. The truck was silent except for your noises and the squelch of Frank playing with your pussy.

“‘S wet, pretty girl. All for me? Did I do this to you, baby?” He taunted you, sliding his finger through your folds and swirling your clit as he waited for an answer.

“All for you, promise.” You whined, leaning your head against him, sweat beading on your skin as the car started to heat up from the summer air and the actions being performed. 

Your pleas were answered when he finally plunged a finger inside of you, pulling it all the way out and admiring how it glistened in the light provided by the street light in the corner of a parking lot. He did this a few times, thrusting his finger in and pulling it all the way back out before plunging it back inside of you. His lips found your neck again, moving your head back to the original position it was in, kissing every spot of open skin he could reach. As if he read your mind, he inserted another finger alongside the one already inside. The stretch burned in a way that made you feel alive, made you feel on top of the world. All because Frank’s fingers were inside you. God, his fingers were big. So big it made you think about how right your dad had been to call everyone else a boy and not a man. So big all you could do was think about how big his cock must be, if his jeans were any indication you were in for a real treat. Not here though, stupid stupid gas station stupid truck. Your thoughts soon turned to mush.

His fingers curled right against the spongy spot inside of you, hitting it over and over again, he readjusted his hand to put his thumb on your clit.

“C’mon pretty girl, let go for me.” He spoke low, trailing kisses back up your neck and nipping at your earlobe. 

You could feel the warmth growing in your stomach, the knots forming into bigger knots and then even bigger knots. Could feel the heat spreading throughout your body, your orgasm so close you could taste it. It was right there, his fingers hitting all the right spots and his thumb working wonders on your clit, his scruff scratching your skin and his mouth kissing everywhere. He was suffocating you in all the best ways possible. All you could see, hear, smell and taste was Frank fucking Castle.

Stars. Your vision turned to stars as your orgasm washed over you, your body shaking in the passenger seat as he fucked you with his fingers. Those damn fingers. You couldn’t see anything but stars, for all you knew you had gone to heaven and it was thanks to the magical orgasm given to you at the hands of your new god. 

When you came down from your high, Frank was whispering how well you had done and how pretty you were. He was caressing your thigh and placing kisses to your head. 

“Did so good, gonna get me addicted.” He reached behind your seat and handed you a water bottle, opening it and holding the lid so you could drink it.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him, that killer smile that got him here in the first place. He truly was going to get addicted to you and he had no complaints about it, could die a happy man tonight if fingering you in his passenger seat is all he gets to do to you. His phone ringing in his pocket brought him back to the situation at hand.

Shit. Both of you thought, remembering what you were supposed to be doing and how it was now an entire forty-five minutes later.

“Hey, ah yeah we’re good. Small fender bender, yeah….to make it all worse the gas station was closed when we got here.” Frank spoke to your dad on the phone, coming up with a lie like his life depended on it and he hadn’t just fingered you to the edge of your life. “Should be back soon, don’t worry man. I’m keepin’ her safe, precious cargo.”

You chuckled softly at his sentence, relaxing completely in the seat and taking a few sips of water, thinking about the future of your relationship with him. Or whatever it was, you made out and he had his fingers inside you but that didn’t mean shit. What if he regretted it and now didn’t want anything to do with you, what if he was too worried about his friendship with your dad?

“Quit thinkin’ too much. We’ll figure out whatever this is, all I know for sure is I need to see you again. And you to ride me, like a fuckin’ cowgirl. Ya hear?”