#his character sucks but rob? Fucks.

[mortysmith]

I HATE RICKS BACKSTORY SO FUCKING MUCH

[nerdynikki94]

SUNNYBLR: So, I know that if I have a reputation for anything as of late, it would probably be for my Rob-Hating-Rants about how (imo), he's done a great disservice to Mac's identity as a gay man.

This has been misconstrued before, and recently was again with a reblog of one of said posts:

Despite acknowledging 1000 times over that I do understand the humor/satire of the show, often I'm accused of not 'getting the point'.

I get the point, trust me. I've been watching this show consistently for well over a decade (& I'm nearly 30; so, I've always been aware/analytical enough to realize that these characters are objectively awful - it's intentionally written that way). That is not where my issue with the writing lies.

Mac may be my baby, but he's an immensely flawed individual. There really is no shortage of terrible qualities that he possesses: he's arrogant, crass, delusional, ignorant, obnoxious, prejudiced, rude, stubborn, tactless, etc. (We all know there's many more fucked up characteristics to his personality) Still, once he came out, the majority of the focus for his flaws surround his sexuality. (Since S12...)

-Mac making his sexuality his entire personality.

-Mac never sincerely showing honest romantic/sexual attraction unless he is exhibiting the 'predatory gay' stereotypes.

-Mac becoming a spineless doormat who happily takes heaps of verbal (& sometimes physical) abuse regarding his sexuality.

-Mac constantly trying to reduce his sexuality by subscribing to constricting stereotypes.

-Mac's sexuality being a characteristic of his personality that he has to receive gang acceptance/approval for (i.e. Frank in MFHP & FVR).

-Mac struggling with reconciling his religion and his sexuality (even 5+ years later) and continuing to be made fun of for grappling w/ongoing internalized religious homophobia.

-Mac's sexuality being used as a constant punchline to countless jokes. (I.E. S16E1 - Running blowjob joke. Funny in context; still using as reference because no one has ever made fun of Dee for sucking dick - because she's a 'straight' woman.)

As I've said too many times before, I know these characters are fucked up and I love them for it. I've never expected them to become benevolent individuals or upstanding role models. They wouldn't be the gang if they were. However, I do and will continue to have a problem with Mac's sexuality being the focal point of his shortcomings or being the cause for any suffering he continues to withstand.

These characters are meant to be punished for their greed, abysmal self-centered behavior, and detestable qualities; so, why is Mac's character still being punished for being gay? The gang is ashamed of him for it, & as the show only centers on them - their dynamics, opinions, schemes - it consistently carries the tone that it is something Mac should also be ashamed of; as if he hadn’t already spent the first 40 years of his life in self-loathing because of it.

Mac is NOT a gay role model, obviously; but that doesn't mean his character should be settled into being a gay joke.

[shatteredfears-arch]

idk why ppl are surprised. what did they think would happen by supporting j/ames g/unn, who even if you ignore his horrendous jokes n shit bc ‘he apologized for the party!!!!’ STILL insulted R/ichard G/rayson for daring to be drawn in a female gaze, implied if he got to write the i/ron m/an movies, he wanted T/ony to ‘fix’ a lesbian, and that S/tephanie B/rown was his type because she’s a teen mom ‘which means shes easy and has daddy issues’.

[satrs]

OVERLOADED?

SYNOPSIS; 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬.

FEATURING; TOJI FUSHIGURO. SUGURU GETO. SATORU GOJO. YUUTA OKKOTSU.

TAGS; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI! unprotected intercourse. Cockwarming. Nicknames. Grinding. Oral(fem receiving).

WC; 0.7k

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!

TOJI FUSHIGURO

You felt so bad for him, all exhausted and energy robbed from his hard work as a sorcerer killer. You as his lover sure could do something, right?

You already had the perfect idea.

“Yer doing so good baby, fuck.” Toji groaned at the feeling of your tight cunt around him, head thrown back into the pillow, eyes squinting at the lewd sounds your neddy cunt cried out, sucking him dry.

He had an iron grip on your hips, jaw clenching with each thrust of your hips. He found no strength in him to flip you around and pound into you, enjoying himself while his low lidded eyes examine your form.

Your back arched as you felt him hit a particular spot, hand reaching for your clit, circling it. “Just wanna make you feel good, Toji", you wholeheartedly admitted, teeth caging your bottom lip.

His eyes shot up to your face at the sound of your voice, licking his lips at the sight of your features twisted in pleasure, tits lewdly bouncing at your movements, your sinful sounds clouding his mind.

Low-lidded eyes glanced to where you connected, hand on your hip sneaking down onto your ass, firmly squeezing it, earning a mewl from you.

„Such a good girl, my good girl. Right? Always lookin’- shiiit, lookin’ out for me, yeah?“

SUGURU GETO

To be frank, he had a really rough day. A lot to do, day seeming to never find an end. It was like he was stuck in time until now.

The only thing he thought of as he kicked out of his shoes sloppily and removed his tie was cuddling with you. Well, not just cuddling.

“Suguru?” you questioned, voice drenched in sleep, as you turned at the feeling of rough hands around your waist. You felt the man grind into the valley of your ass, hushing you.

„It’s all good, princess, go back go sleep. Just let me feel you, yeah?“ You lazily nodded, slowly drifting back to sleep. But as you felt his cock nudging at your entrance, you couldn’t help but softly moan.

Sleep soon drifted away as you were taken over by pleasure, your hips grinding back against him in excitement, only to be halted by his harsh grip.

He slid past your puffy folds, groaning as he fully bottomed out, his tip dangerously close to tickling your womb. You sloppily grind back into his touch, earning a low moan from the man.

He held your hips in place, thick length comfortably laying inside of you. He buried his head into your neck, breathing in your scent while covering your neck with kisses, sometimes placing a warning slap against your ass when you moved your hips too much to his liking.

He sighed into your neck, goosebumps rising on your skin while his arm wraps around you, comfortably snuggling to your side, ready to drift into sleep.

„Let's just stay like that, yeah? I’m tired too.“

SATORU GOJO

This routine had become like a ritual - every time he had a rough day at work he would come home, plop right onto you on the sofa, face comfortably resting in your breasts, eyes fluttering closed.

"Rough day, hm?" Satoru hummed against your soft tits, earning a soft chuckle from you as he playfully buried his teeth into them. You took his action as a 'yes', cooing at him while petting his head. He purred, almost like a cat, enjoying your pampering. "My poor baby."

He let out a shaky breath at that, head lifting to stare into your eyes. His body moved on its own, hips stuttering into yours, growing bulge evident as it rested heavily on your heat, only departed by some clothes.

You knew he was really exhausted now, too lazy to take you to the bedroom or strip you out of your clothes. A moan left your lips as you felt his tip nudge your clit through your undergarments, one leg wrapping around his hips to draw him near you.

The low groan he let out didn't fly over your head, only edging you on and it was not long until you quickly turned him, straddling his lap as your movements pick up again.

He made himself comfortable on the couch, hand drawing lazy circles in your hips, daring you to go further, a lazy smirk on his lips as his ocean-blue orbs observed you in excitement.

"Let me do the work, alright? Just relax."

YUUTA OKKOTSU

He didn’t have a rough day because of work itself, no. It was because of you. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t help but think of you the whole day, growing painfully hard at the thought of you.

So when he stepped into your shared apartment and saw you in your nightgown, he fell into his sinful desires, picking you up and leading the both of you to the bedroom in one quick motion.

You giggled at his hectic antics, body lightly jumping at the contact with the soft mattress, his dark eyes quickly snapping down to where your nightgown rode up over your thigh, exposing your naked cunt. "What's gotten into you, Yuuta?"

He kneeled down, lifting your dress further up, admiring your glistening pussy before placing a sloppy kiss right onto your clit, startling you. "You baby. Thought about this perfect pussy all day. Need to taste you. Can I?"

A moan from your lips and the grip you had in his hair was answer enough for him, big grin plastered on his face before diving into his long longed meal.

He groaned into your heat once your thighs locked around his head, mind clouded in pleasure, growing dizzy.

Maybe calling in sick tomorrow would be a good idea.

©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[awlayt]

One piece men as house wreckers and how they ended up like that

Characters: Shanks,Rob lucci,Sabo,Doflamingo

Tags: Cheating,blowjob,degradation kink,praise kink,slight breeding kink, slight glove kink,afab!reader, hinted at threesome, Doflamingo part is a red flag ngl

Shanks

He can't help himself with how he picks his fuck buddies; he likes them young and pretty, and for some reason he finds himself enjoying the ones who are already in a relationship, serious or not. It's not something he should be proud of, but the thrill,the whole of wooing a pretty face in an unhappy marriage and tempting them into his arms with sweet talk and pleasure, is addicting to him at this point.

And what a pretty sight to see you on your knees while knowing damn well that your own man can't satisfy you like he does.

he have you between his thighs,your mouth filled with his cock as his hand grip tightly your hair to keep you from choking on his dick,he enjoys how teary your eyes gets as you try to adjust to his size in your mouth ,he let a little groan "ah... aren't you so eager, I bet you are wet from just sucking me off" he says with a little smirk ,he watches you squirm as to say yes,he chuckles softly "well ,the sooner you get me to cum down your pretty throat the sooner I get to fuck that little tight cunt of yours,so keep going "he says as his hand let go of your hair to stroke it gently,he watches you deep throat his girth like a champ (he taught you how to ,your husband didn't even bother to teach you the proper way of sucking a dick,how pathetic) he watches you moan as he cum down your throat with a husky groan leaving his lips "Swallow it like a good girl," he says with a little warning, and you nod as you swallow his cum. He smirks as he sees you still eagerly looking up at him. He looks so pleased with himself as he helps you sit on his thigh. "Well,come up,you want my dick? Then ride it. I want to see you bouncing on it till you earn a good fuck from me."

Rob Lucci

It started at a mission, really. He was supposed to seduce some married woman trying to get to her husband through her to get more information, and oh, it spiraled from there. It's something that fills his ego and pride,the fact that he can so easily just sweep anyone off their feet with a bit of sweet talk. Yeah, it makes his ego bigger than it was possibly before,and he can even offer a good rough fuck that would make anyone forget that they had a partner in the first place, and how sweetly they beg him every night for his attention and touch, and he always comply because there's nothing better than satisfying a desperate little thing.

He says his favorite part is when they let him come over the house and let him fuck them on the bed they share with the sad excuse of a husband. That's what really gets him going.

 

" Lucci..Lucci..Please more!" You moan as Lucci thrusts so deeply into your dripping folds as you lay on your bed. He has your right leg over his shoulder as he pounds into you so feverishly. His mouth is kissing your thigh. "You take me so well. Look at you, begging for more when you already have all of them. Such a cockwhore." He chuckles darkly as his hand traces your lips so tenderly. He continues thrusting his hips harder as he feels himself getting close. He wants to pull out before he hears you plead. "Don't pull out." You plead so desperately. "Please." You beg, and he raises an eyebrow. "You want me to cum inside?" He asks mockingly, and a smirk forms on his face when you nod. "Such a little slut. Of course you want. You want me to breed you, don't you? Your sad excuse is that your husband can't do that for you after all,you must feel so needy to be filled don't you?" He releases deep in you, causing you to arch your back on the bed with pleasure. Luci has a sadistic grin as he pulls away,and letting your leg drop on the bed,he manhandles you so easily as he turns you around, burying your face down the bed with your ass up for his viewing pleasure,he looks down at you with great hunger in his eyes as he says" I hope you are not tired (y/n), because I'm going to breed you like the bitch in heat you are"

Sabo

It started by accident, for sure. He had a drunken night with some pretty lady, and the next day she told him she was married and her husband was coming home, which basically put him in what a lot of people would call an uncomfortable situation,but it kind of left him wanting to do that again. The thrill of it is undeniably hot, and it excites him to no end. Such a thrill, and he can in fact deal with whoever confronts him. He got so many trying to, but all got too beaten up or scared to death when learning it was him fucking their wives,and that feeling really helped boost his ego. He even got himself into an open marriage with threesomes, fucking someone's wife while the husband watched. Those are truly his favorites.

"Ah, don't let a noise out, pretty slut. Come on, suck my fingers like you suck my dick. You can do better" Sabo mumbles as he has sucked on his gloved fingers while his hips are thrusting so deeply into you. You are pretty sure he bruised your cervix up by how harshly he is thrusting. He kisses your forehead as he watches you drool around his fingers. Your fucked dumb face looks so beautiful to him and He can't help but chuckle sadistically

He grins slightly as he glances to where your husband is sitting,with a camera recording everything, looking at you so hungrily. "I don't want you to miss her face when she cum because you are fantasizing about fucking her yourself" he says with a mocking voice, causing your husband to groan as he moves closer to film your face. You moan loudly as Sabo's free hand pinches your oversensitive clit. "Come on, darling, do it for us. I want you creaming around me. Maybe if you're good enough,you will get us both stuffing your pretty cunt by the end of the night."

Doflamingo

He really is just taking people's wives and husbands; he doesn't care if you're married or not. He would be using everything in his power to take the woman or man he got interested in, whether it was for a political reason, a reason to make his own life easier, or just because he felt like it. If he got interested in you on sight, he doesn't take rejection well at all, so you will be stuck with him. Your partner probably knows and is helpless about it. It really depends on his mood,and this man is moody. He has no real morals unless he pretends to have such ones as a way to amuse himself.

"Fufufufu...look at you trying to take all of me at once ,your cunt is begging for me to fill it,look at it, hugging me so tightly and creaming around me...such a pretty cunt" Doflamingo says with a little taunting tone as his cock is buried deep inside of you. You are trying your best not to cry at how big he feels inside of you. Even with all the preparation you've been doing the whole evening, it still hurts to have him so deeply in you like this.

Doflamingo thumb wipes the tears running down your cheek, or more like he smears them all over your cheek, to enjoy your teary face. "Shh, don't cry. You are taking me better than the last time. Almost fully, my sweet thing." He speaks to you like sweet honey,even though his words are nothing but taunting. If only he could come already so you can leave and go back home like you agreed would happen after this round ends. One more round, and you would be far away from his annoying self.

And suddenly he frowned as he heard your thoughts, or perhaps your face was zoning out, and he did not like your attention anywhere but on him. He thrust his hip hard-earned a loud scream from you as your cunt clenches around his thick grit. You can feel the air stuck in your lungs as you see him looking so pleased at your face.

Doflamingo was enjoying seeing you in pain, and you hated how turned on that made you feel. You arch your back in pleasure as he continues thrusting in and out of your sensitive hole, and you moan and call his name in hope he would finish already, but from his relaxed and devilish grin,you know he won't stop till you are fucked dumb and begging for more. One more round, and you will be done. That is what you will keep telling yourself.

I still hate shanks btw ✨💖

@luffyinlove ,,,I hope u think it's still good

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 58

part 1 | part 57 | ao3

@steddie-island said i wasn't allowed to cut this lol. cw: angst, canon typical horror, mentions of minor character death

“Lucas called me a ghost today.”

Steve almost laughs, bitter and sharp. Sure. Why not? What’s one more ghost in his passenger seat?

He doesn't really want to talk to her right now, if he's honest. It's been fifteen minutes and she still hasn't apologized for trying to rob him, or explained where they're going, or what spooked her, or why this car ride was so urgent that he had to risk his job for it — a job he actually needs, considering his, well, everything. She's hardly said anything beyond the occasional "turn here" or "next left" while sulking with her forehead pressed against the window.

But he can tell she has something she needs to get off her chest, so he swallows his annoyance and offers, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she says back. Doesn't elaborate.

He gives her another minute to gather her words, watches her open and close her mouth a few times in his periphery, but nothing comes out. She scoffs at herself and abruptly changes the subject. “Eddie was being extra… well, extra today.”

“Was he?” Steve asks, his bones itching under his skin. He doesn't want to talk about Eddie. Doesn't want to think his name.

“Yeah, he, uh- he was kinda manic? He was, like, running all over the cafeteria and starting shit with Jason Carver...” And he's only half-listening, anger simmering as she goes on and on, because she promised that Dustin didn't put her up to this. Said that this wasn't some bullshit excuse to get him to talk about Eddie or hang out with Eddie or think about Eddie or kiss and make up with fucking Eddie, and now she's just talking about him, and it-

And it hurts; god, it still just hurts—

"....Then he started rambling about how he can’t wait to get the hell out of here when he graduates.”

Searing-stabbing-burning-sharp. Steve clutches at the flare of pain in his chest, the crushed soda-can feeling where his heart's supposed to be. His head pounds. He follows her next direction onto a winding, tree-lined road, the canopy suffocating overhead, and his skin feels too dry — too tight, too small, shrink-wrapping him inside of it, because he knows where they are now. Knows the tilt of the rusted lamp shade, the shape of the weather brick paths. He's tasted the metal tang of this stop sign in his nightmares.

Fuck. Fuck.

"Cool," he grits out as he drives through the cemetery gates. Past stone and wrought iron, past the empty central fountain. He hasn't been here since July. “Good for him.”

“Steve-"

“Why are you telling me this?" he snaps. He throws the car in park under an old oak and turns to glare at her, barking a frustrated, "Huh?"

Immediately, he feels bad for raising his voice. Feels even worse for the way she flinches away. The naked fear on her face, her hand reaching for the door. He takes a long, deep breath and lets it out slowly through his nose. “Sorry. Sorry. Just-" There's a leak inside him somewhere; some infected, gaping hole, and his stupid heart keeps pumping all his blood into the wound. "Why are you-?”

“Look,” she says sharply, "I know it sucks. To talk about him." She's staring at the rows of headstones up ahead, her face gone steely with determination, her shoulders squared, her big eyes wide and a little wet when she turns to meet his gaze. “But whatever you were— whatever happened, it just… it really messed him up.”

Good. "You sound like Dustin."

"Maybe Dustin had a point."

"Since when?"

She throws her hands up, nostrils flaring. "I'm trying to tell you that I think he still cares!"

“Yeah? He’s got a seriously fucked up way of showing it if so!”

“Yeah, well some of us don’t know how to show it!”

And oh.

Oh.

Silence blankets them like dust. Eyes locked; harsh breaths. This has nothing to do with him and Eddie, does it?

Lucas called me a ghost.

Steve sighs and slumps forward, his forearms on the wheel, his chin resting on his wrist. The late afternoon sun is warm through the glass, and his head gives another nasty throb as he looks out over the hill, at the polished stones glinting in the golden hour rays.

His dad is buried here.

A lot of people are.

“Hey,” he murmurs, rolling his neck to look at her. The skin under her eyes is red. "Sorry for yelling."

She sniffs quietly. "Me, too."

He reaches over and gives her hand a quick squeeze, keeping his voice low and gentle. "You know you can just talk to me, right? Max, talk to me. Please.”

Her bottom lip quivers. “It’s nothing, okay?” She sinks down in her seat, crossing her arms to shield herself. “Shit’s just been… it’s just been weird all week. Like- like bad weird, and I don't know if I'm just going crazy, or— I mean, maybe Ms. Kelley's right, maybe's it's just— but it feels like…”

"Like what?"

She holds a hand out flat in front of her; flips her wrist over slowly so her palm faces the sky.

Steve's blood runs cold. He thinks of his own nightmares: the weird visions, the headaches, the persistent haunted feeling.

"I don't know anything for sure," she insists, rushing to reassure him before he can fully start to panic. "Seriously, don't freak out; I haven't, like, seen any gates or anything, it's just— bad dreams. Nose bleeds. I don't know." She hoists her backpack onto her shoulder. "I thought coming here might help."

He catches her by the arm, raking his eyes over her face, looking for any signs of danger. "Is there anything I can do?"

She shakes her head no and tugs free of his grip, and then she's slipping out of the car, letting the door fall shut behind her, and Steve watches her crest the hill while sirens wail inside his head.

—

part 59

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[lonelypep]

every smash bros character ranked by how good of a cook i think they’d be.

82: piranha plant

eating this dish will kill you instantly. turns out he spit some poison in there while no one was looking. and yeah, that sucks, but if you even accepted a meal from this guy i think you have bigger problems

81: ridley.

let’s be real, if you let this guy into the kitchen, you made a huge mistake. it’s like john mulaney’s horse in a hospital sketch: you never know what he’s gonna do next. you’re too focused on getting him out.

80: king k rool.

king k rool is many things. a king, a pirate, a scientist. but he is not a cook. he’ll try, but he has literally no clue what he’s even doing in the kitchen.

79: yoshi

yoshi will give you a dish and you’ll be like “what the fuck is this” and he’ll talk about how it was made from the finest newborns of his home planet. i’m deciding to ignore it but it’s really nagging at me.

78: sonic

sonic shouldn’t be on this list. because he wouldn’t make you any food. he’ll go to the local sonic and get a burger in about 3 minutes. it sucks. disqualified.

77: pac man

what can i say. it tastes like literal plastic. i don’t even wanna know how he made it. i’ll give it back to him but the nice thing about pac man is he wouldn’t give a shit.

76: bowser jr.

fuck this guy. he rage quit at making a grilled cheese. now there’s a literal canonball in the stove. now no one else can use it!! this is what happens when you spoil kids.

75: pikachu/pichu

these two are in the same category since they’d make the same thing. they’d get store bought french fries and fry them with lighting outside. it’s consistent, it works, just not really filling. and they don’t know how to make anything else.

74. wario

don’t get me wrong: he knows what he’s doing. he’s the burger king of smash. he’s this low because the burger is the most unhealthy shit you’ll ever have. eating it gave you chronic diarrhea, gastrointestinal issues, and permanently damaged your taste buds. but god fucking damn was it a good burger.

73. hero

he gave you a single piece of bread with butter on it. it’s not bad but…really dude?

72: olimar

he didn’t make you a bad meal, in fact it was one of the best here. but that’s because he didn’t make you something. it was the pikmin and he’s trying to pass it off as his own and the pikmin don’t know because they don’t speak english. 0/10: not fucking cool dude.

71: kazuya

honestly? i don’t trust this guy. i was too intimidated to even ask his name. from what i can gather no one even invited him to the party he just showed up and made a mediocre meal. what’s weird: someone came into the kitchen and claimed this guy killed their whole family. we never saw that guy again. needless to say, kazuya wasn’t invited to the afterparty.

70: link (botw)

don’t get me wrong here, link is a five star chef. he’s just really unsanitary. apparently he cut the meat and vegetables with the same sword he killed calamity ganon with. i don’t wanna taste that guy!! have you seen him?? not to mention he pulled the meal out of his pants. i don’t even know how it fit in there.

69: inkling

she made a pancake and i thought it was good! but i absolutely can’t condone this. inkling left so much fucking weird slime and shit all over my house. and got really competitive when she heard i was getting meals from everyone else. i hope they’re all ok.

68: ROB

it was so processed. the most processed food i’ve ever had in my entire life. it’s not his fault, rob is a great guy. but this tasted like literally nothing.

67: ice climbers

when they told me they were making dessert, i trusted them. but i let someone else taste test first. my best friend was sent to the hospital because of tongue frostbite. didn’t even know that was a thing. i made the ice climbers pay for it (they’re fucking loaded)

66: villager

he made isabelle do it. and she made something great! but i’m not giving this cretin credit for having the money to afford a five star chef. you don’t deserve it because you sold a shit ton of tarantulas villager!!

65: lucario.

dude got really mad and destroyed my kitchen. he’s REALLY lucky he got the burger PERFECTLY cooked.

64: male byleth.

like this dude knows how to cook. he can barely make chicken nuggets. he has to eat in the school cafeteria simply because he never learned how to cook a simple meal. but he’s a really nice guy. total himbo. love him.

63: ryu

i asked this guy what he likes to eat. big mistake. he then went on to say that his training regiment doesn’t condone copious indulgence (his words) and he lives off of nothing but protein shakes. you do you i guess.

62-61: fox/falco

these two went into the kitchen and came out with weird alien food. i didn’t eat it but everyone else seemed to enjoy it

60: greninja

when he first came out i was so excited. he came out with the most finely sliced food i had ever seen in my entire life. but it was soooo watered down. everything tasted like celery. how do you make crab taste like celery?? how??!

59-58: simon/richter

these guys both made the same exact fish recipe, came out at the same time, and proceeded to fight each other. i didn’t get to try any 😭

57-49: every fire emblem character.

genuinely, i can’t tell these guys apart. or their food choices. honestly, my bad. i’m sure they’re good. but where do i even start.

48: sheik

she doesn’t know how to cook. she kidnapped someone else. normally i wouldn’t put someone like that this high but a. i have gender envy b. it’s for the greater good (or so she said)

47: cloud

dude made a great sandwich but he kept screaming random noises while he did. personally, i’m just glad he managed not to destroy the kitchen. that’s a first here.

46: captain falcon

he promised he’d pick up some pizza but got into a car crash on the way there. eventually he got there after the car crash was all sorted out, but got into ANOTHER on the way back. i’m honestly kind of impressed

45: steve

steve could cook an absolutely fucking KILLER meal. he’ll even offer to do it for free. but you shouldn’t let him under any circumstances. he took 13 hours gathering materials and while the wait was, arguably, worth it, i never want to experience it again. (side note: we asked captain falcon to get some pizza while waiting which led to the aforementioned entry)

44: sora

sora doesn’t know how to cook but he’s by far the biggest name at this party. everyone fucking loves him. he’s friends with GOOFY. this dude hangs out with GOOFY. this guys has hung out with GOOFY AND jack sparrow. bad food but i could listen to this guy talk for hours about his story. i’m sure i’ll understand it all.

43-40: pokémon trainer

this guys organization is fucking atrocious. if he can actually get his shit together he’ll cook up some nice vegetarian meals, but that’s a big if.

HONORABLE MENTION: sans mii gunner

sans undertale is a world renowned, famous chef. his recipes are simple, but cooked with such love, care, and finess it turns a simple cheeseburger into a masterpiece. sans undertale would easily top this list. sans mii gunner is not sans undertale. he bought the real sans’ cookbook and thinks he’s some kind of cooking genius. and sure he’s got the recipes but none of the skill to actually make it.

39-38: samus/zero suit samus

hooray! we’re out of bad cook options now. samus is a great cook, but she’s so used to her alien delicacies she doesn’t know how to cook on earth anymore. shame, but i trust her to produce something edible.

37: shulk

he is really good at the grill. unfortunately, he refused to put a shirt on and made everyone a little uncomfy. that being said, he showed me the beach boys and i had never listened to them before. so he gets points.

36-35: pit/dark pit

these guys don’t know how to cook but the flew into the sky and killed some mythical bird for everyone to eat. i couldn’t have any, i’m pescatarian, but everyone else loved it.

34: bayonnetta

she opened a portal to a waffle house and a bunch of demons came flying out. she didn’t make anything, but honestly, absolutely legendary experience that was.

33: duck hunt

you’d think a dog wouldn’t bring anything meaningful. this would be false. that is the freshest duck i’ve ever seen in my entire life. (didn’t eat it: pescatarian)

32: king dedede

he made his legendary homemade mashed potatoes. everyone loved them. so creamy… weirdly perfect. too bad i hate the monarchy. sorry bud.

31: meta knight

meta knight is a great cook and should be higher. but i don’t want him to be. because he’s so fucking pretentious. he sliced all the food in front of everyone and wouldn’t shut up about radiohead. hate this guy.

30-29: daisy/peach

these two put all their private chefs together to make something for everyone. great catering, great food, but they didn’t technically make it. love them.

28: mewtwo

as if mewtwo wouldn’t just read someone’s mind and cook something. but it’s not mewtwo’s food…so…. sorry dude you cheated.

27: dark samus

she really surprised me here. she cooked up the most exquisite alien delicacies i’ve ever tasted in my entire life. should be higher. but unfortunately, i had to get a space parasite removed from my system by regular samus. honestly though… it was worth it.

26: ganon

he was rude to everyone about his cooking skills and wouldn’t stop bragging. asshole am i right? but surprised everyone by grilling his god damn heart out. he’s a bad try hard but like go off i guess.

25: isabelle

she’s trying her absolute fucking best and she deserves the world here. amazing cook, we need to save her from the island.

24: little mac

dude went so hard. brought new york pizza ALL THE WAY FROM NEW YORK. ok, not literally, but he made a damn good pizza

23: snake

full disclosure: snake doesn’t know how to cook. also no one knows he’s an agent. but he has to cook to blend in so you BEST BELIEVE this man is going to COOK like his life depends on it.

22-20: young link, ness, and lucas

all these guys are incredibly mature for their age. surprised everyone at this party. i had deep and philosophical conversations with all of them about appreciating life. i fucking cried. oh and they made everyone sandwiches, and even took my pescatarianism into account.

19: rosalina

she brought weird space ice cream and i felt my mind expanding as i ate it. love her.

18: mr game and watch

he feels like everyone’s dad! and he’s one of those cooks who cooks in front of everyone. dude flung his meals onto everyone’s plates expertly. love him.

17: joker

originally much lower on this list, joker showed up at my house and attempted to make a grilled cheese and made the worst thing i’ve ever taste. then he said something about gru from despicable me and stood in the corner for an hour. originally i had him towards the bottom but then he doordashed five gigantic burgers, ate all of them in one sitting, and then made me an expensive curry that tasted fantastic. dude went hard.

it was at this point i realized i made a mistake with the numbers. like hell if i’m going to fix the whole thing.

22: zelda

she made some weird food but damn was it pretty to look at! crystals, magic power, i mean good vibes all around here.

21-20: pyra and mythra

i feel like i should put them here since they’re confirmed to be good cooks in the game. but between you and me, i didn’t invite them. i’d consider some entries before this to be better cooks but at this point i’ve been working on this list for 8 hours i do not wanna go back and fix things please i mean this whole list is a joke no one should take this seriously

19: banjo and kazooie

these guys can fucking cook. they’ve been living on their own for a while so it makes sense but it still surprises me. they made a really big stew and even brought free puzzle games.

18: wolf

GRILL MASTER. dude knows what he’s doing on that thing. i’ve never seen better spatula work. holy shit.

17: kirby

kirby came in with some weird blonde hair and made some FANTASTIC ribs (that i didn’t have bc i’m pescatarian). weirdly, gordon ramsey went missing the same day…. i’m sure it means nothing.

16: mario

dude made some absolutely spectacular spaghetti. but he kept talking about how great he is and it really off put some people. kinda weird dude.

15: dr mario. dude brought 50 apples to the potluck. guess he doesn’t wanna see anyone in the office. and he didn’t because we ate them all. take that.

14: min min

she brought some soup dumplings which a lot of people hadn’t had! love her. literally fantastic. she had a whole arm for cooking. that’s what we call efficient.

13: ken

he’s kenough. he is amazing at barbecue. he can cook things with his hands, juggle, also he’s just a fun presence. (i made him make fake meat burgers for me)

12: jigglypuff

she showed up with so many pastries. like so many. not only that, but they were decorative!! she put so much work into that. love her.

11: luigi

he tried to make spaghetti like his brother but a literal fucking meteor slammed into his pot and cracked it. tough luck. then he offered to pay and i refused, but went out and got me some really expensive spaghetti anyways! he’s such a nice guy!! shouldn’t be this high… but i love this guy so much. he’s trying his hardest and i respect that.

10: toon link

toon link didn’t actually make anything. but his mom came and made everyone a salad. and honestly! his mom is some great company. she had so many interesting stories about his childhood. honestly she added so much to the function

9: terry

he is the BARBECUE MASTER!!!! literally what the hell how is he so good! everyone at the party kinda stereotyped him but he’s really really progressive with his views which you wouldn’t think for a big barbecue muscle guy in a baseball cap but everyone loved this guy.

8: mega man

the MASTER CHEF!! literally. he was on master chef. he uses thin round blades to slice vegetables, heats things perfectly, has an instance knowledge of spices, just damn. this guy knows what he’s doing.

7-6: bowser and donkey kong

common misconception: everyone thinks these two would have no idea how to cook. but these are FAMILY GUYS HERE!! they’re providing for absolutely gigantic families, these fuckers know how to make a sandwich and they did. initially they started off making separate sandwiches but they have a really similar recipe and decided to work together. and i really respect that. also turns out peach is just bowser’s kids’ babysitter.

5: palutena.

everyone expected her to show up with some absolutely mystical food. naturally, she showed up with the literal ambrosia of the gods. holy shit. unfortunately, she didn’t put as much effort into it as she could’ve.

4: sephiroth.

ok this guy didn’t really cook anything amazing. but his sheer fucking commitment to the vibe is literally legendary. this man has a long as sword he cut 10 veggies at a time with. he heat them with magic world ending fire. when he was done in the kitchen he surrounded himself with fire and gazed menacingly at me. his sheer commitment to the edge lord aesthetic is truly exemplary.

3: incineroar.

THE GRILLING GOAT!! this man is a grill master. he was prepared to grill ANYTHING. and i mean anything. fish, veggies, meat, fucking grilled cheese. love this guy.

2: wii fit trainer

she made the most well balanced and healthy salad i’ve ever had. and she made it taste extraordinary. she can be a little intense about fitness but i’ve never had a healthier meal in my life. it immediately lowered my extremely high cholesterol.

1. diddy kong

he’s about ten. he made you a pb&j. he had homework to do, but he made you a pb&j. he didn’t have to. he wasn’t asked to. he just wanted to make you a pb&j. he could’ve done anything else but he made you a pb&j. what heartless monster wouldn’t accept it.

[tyrantisterror]

I think one of the things that gets lost in the big, endless internet conversation about whether or not heroes should kill their villains is the fact that killing villains off robs you of a lot of story-telling potential. The Joker died at the end of his debut story in Batman - imagine what Batman would be if he stayed dead. No Joker in Batman 66, no The Killing Joke which means no Barbara Gordon as Oracle and no The Dark Knight, no Mark Hamill Joker episodes of BTAS (so many of them were based on his comic appearances, after all - the laughing fish is a direct adaptation of a comic), which means no Harley Quinn and no Return of the Joker, on and on it goes.

Like, you can argue the morality of heroes sparing their villains till you turn blue - god knows this site does it at least a thousand times a day - but on a purely pragmatic story-telling level, the minute you kill ANY character, you kill all the story potential they had. And yeah, it's fiction, you can bring them back from the dead if you really need them, but that's a pretty hard story beat to pull off without hurting your story. You don't want to fill your tale with "Somehow, Palpatine has returned" moments.

And you can just make new villains, sure, but again you have a problem with that - a new villain has to establish themselves and has to stand out from who came before, which means you can't go directly to the storylines you could have had with a villain who stuck around AFTER their introduction. A recurring villain is capable of doing things that one-off villains can't.

I'm going to illustrate this with a character from a fandom I'm not even a part of - I never played the Ratchet and Clank series and am only vaguely aware of it, but one day I saw a supercut of scenes starring one of its recurring villains, Dr. Nefarious, on twitter, and I was like "Oh shit, that's the guy who plays Quark on Deep Space Nine, isn't? This guys a hoot, let's see if we can find more clips on youtube." Which brought me to this hefty video here from one of the more recent games in the series.

And, like, as a person who "doesn't even go here," it's obvious this goofy little fucker has a history. His opening scenes have him ranting about how much it sucks to lose repeatedly - a lampshade on the "flaw" of a recurring villain, i.e. that their threat diminishes the more they come back because, by the nature of their role in the story, it means they've suffered a lot of losses. So how cool is it that as this supercut chugs along you can clearly see this is a theme of the game - that this is a story about the virtue of losing, a story that is enriched by having an antagonist who fans of the series know has lost a LOT?

The true antagonist is an alternate version of Dr. Nefarious who's won every fight in his life so far, apparently with little effort, and I love how they differ on a design aspect. They're both technically mad scientists, but notably, Emperor Nefarious, the winner, has a more imposing and "heroic" build, but a smaller brain-dome for his robot brains. Because winning may make him look strong, but if a mad scientist's real power is their mind, well, which Nefarious is really the strong one here then?

Dr. Nefarious gets this juicy arc about realizing the virtue in his repeated failures that corresponds with the heroic characters struggling to find a way to win against a seemingly invincible opponent, as well as contrasts the true villain, Dr. Nefarious's explicit counterpart and foil Emperor Nefarious, who has never once lost and is a total piece of shit for it. Again, not my fandom, I don't go here, not an expert on Ratchet and Clank, but even as a relative stranger to it who's just watching a big supercut, I fucking love this. This is an excellent story.

And it's one you can only tell with a recurring villain. Without Dr. Nefarious, this story works significantly less. You need a villain with a history the audience has seen to really sell this.

Anyway, I made this post because, ironically enough, I saw another tweet talking about how some fans think Dr. Nefarious should have been killed off in his first appearance, and, like... that's just fucking baffling to me, as a person outside this fandom looking in. Recurring villains deserve more love, man, they give us so much.

[neteyamsyawntu]

Kinktober 20

E d g i n g

Neteyam x Na’vi!Reader

PART 1

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, smut, P in V, edging, slight overstimulation, vulgar language, sub!Nete, dom!Reader, dirty talk.

Heat boiled on the surface of his azure skin, his body decorated in beads of rolling sweat as the overwhelming pleasure robbed him of any and all composure. Neteyam’s chest heaved with heavy pants, trembling to his core while he squirmed helplessly against your hand that had been slowly stroking and caressing him for what his throbbing cock felt like must’ve been for millennia; the tip of shaft growing into an irritated deep plum color, his bioluminescent freckles glowing bright almost as if it were his bodies way of showing just how close he was to cumming in your hand. 

Sitting naked atop his thigh, his soft, needy whines filled your ears, your gentle fingers just barely touching his sensitive shaft, yet even the slightest of contact was enough to make him jerk. You raise your gaze to look at his flushed face, watching as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, a heavy blush shrouding his sweat covered face. Just as his eyelids flutter closed in attempts to compose himself, your thumb pressed against the slit on his cock tip, Neteyam’s mouth falling agape with a helpless groan, “Haah! Hnng- yawne… great mother please…” he whimpers, shuddering aggressively at your slightest of touches. 

“My sweet Nete… look how sensitive you are. I’m hardly even touching you, my love.” You coo innocently, knowing full well that his current state was all your doing. Neteyam trembles at your words, nuzzling into your chest, his hand squeezing your hip while the other fists the ground beside him. “Please yawne… I want to cum… the pressure it’s too much.”, “Too much? But it’s just my fingers, Nete… what if I… did this…?” You tease slowly lifting yourself from his thigh, positioning yourself just over his desperately twitching cock to lower yourself just enough to brush your naked and moist folds over his tip. 

Neteyam bends his neck, leaning his head back and covering his face with his hand, to which you are quick to grasp onto, “Uh-uh Teyam… let me see your face, you look so cute like this~. Lay back f’me.”. You purr gently pressing the tips of your fingers to the center of his chest, guiding him downward, his stiff cock now laying flat on his stomach. With a low hum you position your hips over him, lowering to slowly glide your lower lips up his erection. His breath hitches, tightly gripping your hips, moving his head from side to side aimlessly, wanting nothing more than to hide his flustered state, but resisted, per your demand, “Ohhph..Yawne… please, fuck.” His voice slithers out choked, your cautious grinding leading for beads of precum to build up at his tip, leaking down to his stomach. 

“Use your big boy words, Nete~.” You muse as you stop your grinding, if you could even call it that, seeing as how you were just barely hovering over his shaft, now sitting directly on it, allowing your juices to drip along his ridiculously hard erection, his cock twitching madly against your clit. Gasping for air through his whimpers, Neteyam struggles to find his words, his glossy eyes finally producing tears that flow down his cheeks as you give an experimental roll of your hips, “Eywa… please my yawne, please let me cum, it hurts. Fuck- I don’t.. phew… I don’t think it’s ever been this hard before.”. Neteyam lays his head back staring up blankly into the night sky, a mix of defeat and submission painting his features. 

With a gentle smile planting on your lips, compassion washes over you as you watch him hiccup and gasp as his tears continue to dampen his cheeks, a bit of drool peeking out from the corner of his mouth. Eywa he did look so cute and breedable like this, but you had tortured him long enough, “You want to cum, Teyam?” You repeat his request leaning into his ear, to gently kiss at his jawline. He nods frantically, ears pinned to the sides of his head, mumbling a stream of pleads until you softly shush him, capturing his lips with yours for a tender moment. “Be a good boy and stay still for me.” You whisper, shifting your hips until his precum soaked tip, catches on your folds. Then, ever so slowly you push your hips back, allowing his stiffened cock to force entry into your wetness. 

Neteyam’s abs flex his hips jerking at the sensitivity, just pushing into you felt entirely overstimulating, but he held on until he bottomed out inside you. “Mmm you really are harder… I can feel the difference.” You purr, sitting up on his lap to begin rolling your hips in a clockwise motion against him. His fingers twitched at their place on your hips, fighting against his own carnal need to force you down and guide your hips himself, knowing exactly what he needed to get off, “Go ahead Neteyam, do what you need to do.” You sigh, granting him permission as your eyes flutter closed to savor the feeling of his cock being exactly where it belonged, at home in your tight cunt. 

Without a second thought Neteyam raises his hips into you, his grip now exceedingly firm on you as he grinds you down into him, throwing his head back in pure bliss, his hips still sputtering from time to time from the persistent sensitivity of being edged for so long. Moans harmonizing with one another you drift a hand down to your core, rolling your clit beneath your fingertips quickly, biting your lip as it adds to the sensation, “Ahh~, tell me how much you love this pussy, Nete.” You moan, eyes closed tight as you continue to stimulate your clit. Neteyam whines and moans beneath you, now moving your hips hastily back and forth, feeling the pressure in his cock building faster and faster, “Fuck- ohhphhuck I love it. I love- Ahh, ahhh, AH-!” With his voice climbing in volume and pitch, Neteyam finally releases into you, his mouth fallen open with stuttered breaths, eyes rolling to the back of his head- a brief hold- then releasing an exhausted sigh of absolute relief. 

A warmth of relaxation flowed through his body as his muscles untensed themselves. The only sounds being his heavy breathing and your soft moans as you continued to toy with your clit. Neteyam felt his mind sway, swimming in the peak of his high, gradually coming back down to Pandora at his own dazed pace. You take in his exhausted form gleefully, now feeling more worked up yourself, letting your fingers repeatedly roll your clit in small circles. Biting your lip, your eyes still staring down at your worn mate, you begin to slowly raise and lower your hips, watching as Neteyam’s brows pinch at the stimulation, “…Yawne?” He whispers in a broken tone, slowly opening his eyes to scan your form and its movements, a confused look on his face, still not being completely mentally present yet. 

“Did that feel good, baby?”, he gently nods, "Good… but I didn’t say that I was done.”.

Tag list: @pandoraslxna @dvxsja @jakexneytiri @blue-slxt @neteyamsoare@tiredmamaissy, @neteyamsikran @oceanstar19 @hadesbabygurl @xylianasblog @neteyamssyulang @anonymousailurophile @netyamstruelove @eyrina-avatar @justcaptiannoodles @teymars @neteyamyanw3 @eyweveng

[carolmunson]

carol’s at the laundromat — and a new character appears.

The sun is spilling in just right on the silver dryers on the back wall — whir, whir, whirring their spring cleaning drawl.

“Wait, stay juuusssst like that — perfect,” Robin encourages, pulling out her Polaroid camera while you’re bent over loading in her clothes. The flash glares bright in your eyes when snaps the picture and catches it right when the camera spits it out.

“Rob, my back isn’t built to hold this pose,” you laugh, “Also, why am I doing your laundry?”

“Cause you’re so pretty and the light was hitting you perfectly,” she shrugs, snapping another picture at your annoyed face, “Maybe not in that one.”

Her camera goes back around her neck and the half finished blow pop goes back in her mouth, stretching her freckled cheek. A breeze comes in when the door opens, a whoosh of a warm breeze with the promise of a long summer kisses you both — still in jean jackets and long pants.

“That doesn’t answer my question, why am I doing your laundry?” you ask, closing the door and leaning against dryer, feeling it heat up on your back.

She shrugs, “I dunno, you scooched me away when I didn’t separate my darks from my lights.”

“Well, Rob you can’t just—”

There’s a wrap on the front windows, sharp enough to know that its rings on glass. The sweat on your back from the dryer goes cold, you don’t look up when you hear Robin squeal.

“Finally,” she calls out, bounding out the front door that stays open on its hinge, “Took you forever.”

“Sorry, had to wait for Harrington for some wheels,” his voice sends a pit into your stomach, you stay staring at your sneakers on the dirty linoleum tile.

“Where’s my guy?” Robin’s raspy voice muses.

“Over a block or two,” he laughs, “Doesn’t wanna get in trouble or some shit.”

“Whatever,” you can hear her roll her eyes, but even worse, you can hear the crunch of his boots come into the laundromat, “Let me just grab my wallet.”

You look up to see her hold her hand out for her fanny pack which is tucked into her laundry bag still in your hand. You look down and back up with a quiet, “Oh! Sorry.”

The deal takes ten seconds total, but ten seconds is long enough to make your skin crawl. The scent of his cologne mixed with leather and weed fills your nose; he’s standing too close to you and he knows that.

“What, you don’t wanna say hi?” he drawls. Your gaze slowly rises up from his boots to his jeans to his chest to his chin — that smirk, those glittering eyes.

“Do I have to?” you retort, your body numb with uncertainty.

“Heh,” he lets out, grimacing, “Guess not. Figured you —”

“Eddie Munson!” a shrill voice calls from the back room, “Eddie Munson if you’re not here to do laundry I don’t wanna see your face in my business!”

“Aww Marj, you’re breakin’ my heart,” he teases, turning around to shout back at Ol’ Marj with both hands on dramatically holding his chest, “Can’t a guy come here and launder some cash?”

“OUT!” she yells, “Before I call the chief down here!”

He sucks his teeth, shoulders rounding when he drops his hands, “Welp, see ya later Rob.”

“Bye! Tell Steve I — we — said hi!” Robin waves with her Blow Pop in her hands, the click of it on her teeth obvious when she puts it back in her mouth. A final whiff of him lingers in your nose when he whisks out of the laundromat without a second thought, disappearing down the street to Steve’s car.

“You both really gotta talk things out,” Robin tuts, pulling her sandy hair up in a bun at the back of her head with a scrunchie, “It’s like pulling teeth watching you try to be civil.”

“We broke up,” you shrug, “It’s gonna be weird.”

“I dunno,” she shrugs back, “I feel like you guys either gotta fight it out or fuck it out — whatever happened. Just…I miss my friends being altogether.”

“I know,” you sigh, defeated, “We’ll figure it out.”

“Well you better do it soon,” she mumbles, looking over the baggies in her hand, “‘Cause he owes me another dime bag.”

[harmonictechnicality]

Memory Log: Day 52

part 1 here | part 2 here | part 3 here | part 5 here | part 6 here (ao3 link here)

After seeing his ink-smeared biography all over Eddie Munson’s arm, Steve becomes extremely motivated. Obsessed, even.

He assembles a makeshift army. Eddie’s Memory Soldiers, he calls it. Okay - he doesn’t call it that out loud, only to himself (because even Steve is self-aware enough to know how deranged this all sounds).

Steve compiles a ragtag group of Eddie’s friends to nudge his brain along faster. Band mates, theater dweebs, potheads that can carry a tune. All of them bring mixtapes on their visits. After two weekends, there’s already a fuckload of thrashy melodies for Eddie to choose from.

He lets them take the reins on this music-healing plan because there’s no fucking way Steve will be helpful in that department. It means less visits that include his presence, which sort of sucks, but it’s worth it. Worth it to get Eddie back to where he used to be.

Before Steve heads out for one of his morning visits, Robin interrogates him. Asks him the question he’s been ignoring for weeks.

“Steve… not to sound harsh, but why do you care so much?” 

Yeah. Why does he care so much? 

She quickly follows it up with, “I just didn’t know you two were friends now. So I’m just curious, I guess.”

They’re not friends. They’re lukewarm tolerators - tethered together by monster hunting and Dustin Henderson.

They’ve flirted, sure. But who doesn’t? Steve would flirt with half of the leggy cartoon characters that appear on Saturday Mornings if he could. So that’s a weak argument to assume they’re more than just friends. Tolerators. Whatever.

So he lies. To Robin. To himself. Lies so much that it sits in his stomach like motion sickness.

He answers the exact same way he’s been answering since day one:

“I’m just doing this for the kids, Robs.”

He’s pretty sure neither of them are buying that statement. He tries again. Stamps the words onto his confused brain. Considers writing them on his arm just like Eddie might do.

“I’m doing it for them.”

Eddie is always on his Walkman (Steve’s Walkman) now that he has skyscraper of cassettes on his desk. Pretty much every time Steve returns, Eddie is head banging. Won’t stop until the nurses scold him.

Or Steve. He’ll stop if Steve scolds him too.

“You can’t keep jostling up your brain, Munson.” Steve whips the headphones off of Eddie’s ears. “Gonna undo all of our hard work.”

“Our hard work?” Eddie attempts to grab the headphones back. Gives up as soon as their hands make contact. “And who might be included in this our that you speak of?”

“You know…” Me. “The doctors and nurses and your friends.”

“Right.”

This is how things have been going lately. Eddie teases him mercilessly and Steve bats it all away. Doesn’t encourage it for a second.

Which blows so hard because he wants to flirt back. Steve wants to know what Eddie feels like beyond tubes and bandages and hospital gowns. He wants way too much after watching Eddie fall asleep smiling that night. After finding out that Eddie scams his own mind into remembering Steve in technicolor details every day.

But it feels wrong. Deep down, there’s this part of Steve that worries that Eddie only likes the scribbled notes, the good qualities of himself. The non-prickster qualities.

He doesn’t scribble the bad qualities on his arm. Eddie lets himself forget about those every night. 

So it seems wrong. Unfair to let Eddie only remember the good parts of him and take advantage of his weak mind.

Life was a fucking breeze before Steve cared about not taking advantage of people. Shit, he used the world’s biggest advantage-taker before all of this evil wizard nonsense.

“Quiz me, Harrington.” Eddie insists.

So Steve does. Steve goes down the list of questions. Things that Eddie’s memory typically hesitates to recognize. 

Music helps Eddie remember his childhood memories the best.

That’s the biggest discovery they’ve made over the last fourteen days. Tapes that include songs from the early to mid 70’s have the biggest mental impact on his memory skills. Every day, he recalls more moments from his past.

Winter birthday parties. Recess and tire swings. Nineteen chickenpox. A pet hamster named Sterling.

“Can’t believe Wayne trusted you with a living creature.” Steve sneers.

“Never said he did.”

He always gets fuzzy with stuff from the late 70s though. And the early 80s is just a jumbled-up shit show. That’s when Eddie really starts failing his quiz.

“What year did you get the tattoo on your chest?”

“You mean this one?” Eddie pulls down the wrinkly hospital gown, exposing way too much of his collarbone. “Or this one?” He pulls the fabric down even further.

They must’ve finally turned the heat on in this place. Or maybe Steve’s sweater is just extra itchy, scratching his skin all splotchy red. He rubs furiously at the collar, spreads the flush all over by accident. 

His eyes dart up to the fluorescent lights. Away from Eddie’s chest. “Um… the… creepy guy.”

“You’ll sprain your neck looking up like that.”

“Good thing I’m in a hospital then.”

“Okay - seriously, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure.” Eddie snorts. His heart monitor beeps faster. Steve hates that laughing must be a bit painful for him. “And he’s not some creepy guy. He’s a creepy demon. Please respect the body art and get your facts right.”

“Fine.”

Not flirting back makes Steve feel like he could break out into hives. He has a fucking stockpile of pickup lines. He hoards provocative catchphrases like a horny pack rat. Talking is becoming increasingly difficult when he can’t banter back the way he wants to.

“Don’t remember what year I got it.” Eddie admits. “Sorry.”

Steve pulls his focus away from the ceiling and scribbles that down:

Eddie still can’t remember when he got his tattoos.

“Gee mister,” Eddie imitates a very masculine Shirley Temple voice. “Am I failing the pop quiz already?”

Eddie remembers who Shirley Temple is (weird, but okay).

Eddie does a really shitty impression of Shirley Temple.

Steve just keeps writing. Not even writing words anymore, just moving the pen to stay focused. Stay distracted from flirting.

The energy starts to feel swampy and stiff as he continues to give short responses with lifeless enthusiasm. Steve can tell that Eddie is picking up on the weirdness too. 

He’s so fidgety. Drumming his fingers, twisting the one ring he’s allowed to wear on one of his less busted fingers. Bobbing his knees and kicking off his blankets. 

Eventually, Eddie puts his (Steve’s) headphones back on and closes his eyes. A nonverbal surrender. A borrowed Walkman instead of a white flag. Why does it feel so shitty to see that he is just as defeated as Steve?

Once Eddie is asleep, Steve peaks over at his arms.

The notes are still there. Fading, but there.

It shouldn’t jab him in the heart the way that it does every time he checks, but christ. It’s so fucked up.

Slowly but surely, Eddie is gaining pieces of his past, but never his present. Why the fuck is that? Steve is so selfishly pissed about that because he’s a main role in Eddie’s present life. 

He’s the one that’s here most days. He’s the one that listens to Eddie’s rants and incessant complaints. He’s the one that calls the nurses when Eddie is too prideful to admit when he’s in pain.

Steve should be remembered without smudgey reminders and foggy recollections.

Steve should be un-fucking-forgettable.

After an unhealthy amount of moping, he comes up with an idea. Well, Dustin comes up with an idea, actually. Steve bribed him with nougat and R-rated movie rentals to construct a gameplan.

“And you need Eddie to remember your favorite sweater…why?” Dustin’s mouth is full of chewy candy as he asks.

Steve chucks a raisinette at his dumb hat. “I thought we agreed this was a no questions asked request.”

“You suggested that.” Dustin points at Steve. “I never agreed to it though.”

This is the part Steve despises. If he admits it to others, he has to admit it to himself. And while he’s come a long way since that first day with Eddie, he’s not there yet. His pride can only take so much vulnerability before it fractures completely. “Just… I’m testing a theory I have on his newest memories.”

“Right. And what theory would that be?”

That he thinks about me in kissable ways. “That he remembers more than he gives himself credit for.”

Dustin chugs back his soda and scrunches the can in his grasp. “Okay. Well, the mixtape theory is working decently well with older memories, right?

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“So maybe it can work with newer memories too.”

Steve is lost already. “Meaning?”

“Find songs that relate to you.” Dustin shrugs like duh. He must sense Steve’s hesitation, so he sputters back into his brainy explanation. “Think about it: you’re there all the time -”

“Not all the time, but -”

“Shut the hell up. You’re there all the time, so he must remember the essence of Steve Harrington.”

Steve fake gags. “Don’t say essence, that’s fucking gross.”

“Will you stop interrupting? Jesus christ.” Dustin yells, scrunching the soda can even more with his irritation. “Just make a mixtape with stuff that relates to you. Get his current memories to stick with lyrics and shit.”

Steve twists his mouth to one side. Then the other. “That’s…”

“Genius?”

“I was gonna say worth a shot, but sure.” Steve agrees. “We’ll go with your conceited analysis.”

Dustin finally picks up the raisinette from earlier. Throws it back at Steve. “You should be nicer to me. I possibly just solved your dilemma.”

“I should be nicer to you?” Steve tosses the raisinette into his mouth, despite its questionable duration on the floor. “Dude, you’re never nice to me.”

“Yeah, but it’s affectionate hostility.”

“And that makes it better?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Fine.” Steve rolls eyes, offers a hand to Dustin. “Thank you for the hostile affection.”

Dustin accepts the handshake. He’s overly smug about it too. “You’re very welcome.”

Memory Log: Day 53

Right away, Steve determines it’s a Kathy Day. Eddie is a verbal nightmare already, whining about the dead batteries in his tv remote.

“I’ll get Sam to grab some batteries when her shift starts.” Steve reassures the bitchy entity possessing Eddie Munson’s body at the moment.

“Why don’t you just get the damn batteries?” Eddie bites back. “You have legs, don’t you?”

“You have eyes, don’t you? Of course, I have fucking legs.” Steve can play it this game. Doesn’t want to but he can be just as obnoxious if Eddie keeps going with his attitude. “Please don’t pull this Kathy shit today.”

That simultaneously shuts them both up for a while. Steve begins flipping through one of the outdated magazines on Eddie’s desk, avoiding the escalated atmosphere. At this rate, there’s no fucking way Steve is going to bring up his mixtape. Kathy/Eddie will probably smash it. Roll over it with the wheels on his imprisoning hospital bed.

Eddie clears his throat, speaking softer than he did at Steve’s arrival. “You know… you were sort of a Kathy yourself yesterday.”

Eddie remembers Steve’s weird mood from the day before (needs to check Eddie’s arm notes to make sure he didn’t write that down).

“Yeah well… I’m allowed to be the pissy one sometimes.” Steve doesn’t look up. He just keeps pretending to read the fossilized magazine in his hand.

“Whatever you say, Harrington.” There’s another pause. Just as awkward as the last one. Their dynamics today are clashing harder than their music styles. Eddie breaks through the awkwardness once again. “So… what’s on the brain agenda today?”

Eddie remembers their pop quizzes.

Right. The quiz. The quiz that Steve has no intention of administering today because he’s supposed to give Eddie this stupid mixtape. 

And look, Steve is pretty good at avoiding shit - homework and phone calls and extended family members. He’s good at dodging shit too, like the relentless one-night stands that can never seem to take a goddamn hint.

But this situation is different because Steve would clearly like to avoid the potential weirdness of giving Eddie Munson a gift. However, he’s innately aware that this particular gift could be helpful. Maybe more to himself than to Eddie, but who knows? If Eddie gets his memory tank back on track and Steve gets someone that reciprocates his affections? 

The payoff might be worth the weirdness.

“I actually wanted to contribute to your…” Steve gestures apathetically at the stack of tapes.

Eddie looks over at them and then back to Steve. “Oh you mean, Munsonopolis?”

“Boooo.” Steve heckles him immediately for that.

“You think of something better then.”

Steve thinks about this way too hard. “The Ed-pire State Building.”

“Boooo.” Eddie imitates Steve’s heckling.

“Better than yours.”

“Says who?”

“Says anyone with a sense of humor.”

“Brave of you to call that a sense of humor.”

“What can I say?” Steve clicks his mouth twice and does the most douchey finger-gun bit, blowing out the nonexistent smoke from each index finger. “I’m something else.”

Eddie bites down over his lip, hard enough that it goes white for a second. Doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve while he bares down.

“You sure are, Steve.”

Oh shit - did they just mindlessly segue onto Flirtation Boulevard without even trying? Is it really that natural with Eddie? Damnit, Steve needs to get his mind on the task at hand.

“Here.” He walks over, lays the tape on Eddie’s lap.

“Is this another one from Gareth?” Eddie flips the tape over, studies the back. “Cause I already assured him that I remember the concert we went to back in ‘84.”

Eddie remembers one of his closest friends.

“No, this one is actually…” Just fucking own up, Steve. “Well, I made it.”

Eddie’s eyes do that sequin thing again. Almost turn into disco balls. “You made me a mixtape?”

Ugh. “Don’t get too flattered, Munson.” 

“Too late.”

Steve was afraid that might be the case. So he does his damndest to channel Dustin Henderson. Provide a scientific explanation to his crush-driven theory. “It’s just an extension of our little music experiment. Some stuff that will help you remember me.”

“And why exactly do you want me to remember you?” Eddie does the same lip biting thing from before. He bites harder, and the color stays white even longer this time.

Steve involuntarily glances down at Eddie’s arm, giving himself away.

“Oh.” Eddie stops biting his lip, swiftly lifts the blankets over his arms. Hiding what Steve already knows is there. “Look… that’s just -”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, really.”

Eddie looks down, nodding in agreement. “Right. But it’s not-”

“Eddie.” Steve places a firm hand on Eddie’s shoulder because he can’t. He can’t listen to whatever Eddie is about to confirm or deny. “It’s okay. I mean it.”

He’s not ready for it, for whatever barricade that’s between them to come crashing down. Steve didn’t bring the proper tools to shield himself from raw emotions or desperate declarations of true feelings. And from the way Eddie goes breathless and tense under Steve’s shoulder-grip, he doesn’t think Eddie has the proper tools for that either.

“So you uh…” Eddie peers down at Steve’s hand. Catches a glimpse then abruptly looks away again. “Do you want me to listen now or…”

God no. Steve releases his grip at that thought. “Wait till I leave.” 

“Got it.”

The rest of the visit goes both fairly smoothly. There are only a few lingering particles of awkward tension left behind. It doesn’t bother Steve, not necessarily. The whole day has been kind of all over the place, just like Eddie’s Literary Behavioral Scale. So this uneasy atmosphere is to be expected.

They talk about movies while Steve packs up his things to leave. Eddie asks about all the new movies that have come out since he’s been in the hospital. Steve tells him to make a list of the ones he’s interested in seeing. Tells him that they’ll have a marathon at his place once they’re released to vhs. Eddie says he knows a guy that sells bootlegs before the vhs release date, but Steve shoots that idea down so fucking fast.

It’s not their usual banter, but that’s okay. At least they're talking. Getting along. Tolerating one another at a lukewarm temperature again.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve is met with the most anxiety-ridden face. Eddie’s whole forehead is covered in wrinkles, like that one fancy dog breed that his next-door neighbor used to have. There’s no shimmer in Eddie’s eyes, no disco balls. It’s all just dull. Fearful.

“Sorry if the arm thing made you...” Eddie trips over his words. He pinches the skin between his eyes, makes his even more forehead wrinkles. “I don’t know what’s the word I’m looking for.. Uncomfortable, I guess.”

“Don’t worry. It didn’t.” It made Steve a lot of other things: gutted, determined, confused, sulky, smitten. But no. Worried did not make Steve’s grocery list of Feelings.

“Don’t forget to tell Sam about the batteries on your way out.”

Eddie remembers bitching about the batteries.

Yeah, Steve’s memory isn’t the faulty one here. Even so, Steve reassures him:

“I won’t forget, Eds.”

Day 56:

Wayne had a couple days off from work and took over Steve’s Wednesday and Thursday shifts in the hospital. It’s probably for the best - especially since Steve decided to do the most high school shit ever, and gift Eddie a fucking bouquet in the form of radio hits and plastic.

He’s breaking out from the stress, just marinating on what Eddie’s thoughts might be of the mixtape. It can’t be good. None of the songs are his typical riffs of eternal damnation or whatever. But it certainly sounds like Steve Harrington in a Speaker. So it better help him picture Steve dressed in the tackiest, most burnable sweaters imaginable, goddamnit.

But like, why is he breaking out from thinking about Eddie Munson? Absurd. All of it. The feelings and the acne. His weird little crush is making him regress into adolescent woes and it’s pissing him off.

After popping the zit and crossing his fingers that it’s not outrageously noticeable, Steve sucks in a deep breath, and heads into Eddie’s hospital room.

“There’s my favorite Material Girl.” Eddie lowers the headphones, smiles bonus-level wide.

Steve’s gulps. His face feels like a fucking toaster. “I take it you listened to the tape?”

“I didn’t just listen to the tape.” Eddie picks up the Walkman and smacks it against the side of his head. “I practically absorbed that bubblegum bullshit. Think some of it is still stuck in my teeth.”

Steve plays along, hoping that his face will return to its usual complexion. “You should see a dentist about that.”

“With what insurance?”

“That’s fair.” Steve slides his hands into his jean pockets. He’s so rigid. “So?”

“So?”

“Final conclusion?”

“Oh, I hated it.” Eddie says bluntly. “In a very stick-that-syringe-in-my-neck kind of way.”

“Shocker.” Steve actually expected a meaner response than that.

“Why did you put so many songs on there that use Girl in the title?”

“Hey - it’s not my fault that all of the rich poster child songs are about women.” Steve gets defensive about that one. Honestly, it’s true. There needs to be more music about wealthy guys with genetically flawless hair. Somebody needs to get on that shit so Steve can have more songs that apply to him.

“Whatever you say, man.” 

“So did it…” Steve is still standing. Hovering a bit. “Did it help?”

Eddie sticks out both of his arms, flipping to reveal his forearms to Steve.

They’re blank, besides the usual tattoos and contusions. They’re as blank as Eddie’s arms can be at the moment. No more Steve Cheat Sheet to be found.

Steve exhales all of his relief. “And you remember me?”

“Remembering you was never the problem, Steve.”

“It wasn’t?”

Eddie shakes his head. “But if I ever allowed myself to forget, I…” He taps rapidly over the Walkman. Steve’s Walkman. “I just didn’t wanna risk starting over.”

“Oh.”

“With you.”

The metaphorical arrow, the one Steve has alway seen on department store Valentines Day cards, goes straight through his chest. Eddie aims the words with you directly for Steve’s heart. Punctures that wall he built up after Nancy Wheeler.

The monitor connected to Eddie is beeping faster again. It’s not like that day Eddie was writhing in pain. No, it’s a different tempo.

It sounds like his nerves are conducting the pattern. He’s nervous. Steve is making him nervous.

Or Steve’s lack of response is making him nervous.

But how does Steve respond? Is this Eddie giving him permission to flirt back again? To keep driving down the detour of attraction, take the scenic route?

Eddie’s heart monitor is screaming, ‘say something, Steve.’

But Steve’s archive of failed relationships is screaming, back, ‘don’t fuck this up, dickhead.’

Steve tries to meet the two in the middle. Say something inviting yet keep it simple.

“So… do you wanna make fun of the shitty soap operas together?” 

Steve puts a little emphasis on the together part, hoping it’ll tame the monitor. Make the tones evenly paced. He lets his hand tap once against Eddie’s arm. Right over his newly blank wrist. So clean. No more scribbles.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to check my schedule.” Eddie teases with his words, sure. But his hand lifts up. Tapping Steve back. Twice. “I’m a very busy man, you see.”

Steve shoves him away, laughing as he does it. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re not wrong.”

His monitor is ballad again.

One of Eddie’s (many) doctors walks into the room during their third hour of mocking the Home Shopping Network. Eddie has developed an elaborate backstory that they’re all cyborgs who are taking civilian money to grow their army of killer robots. Steve is surprisingly on board with this theory after the second hour. Some red headed lady twitches her eyes way too much to be human.

The doctor runs a few tests, looks over Eddie’s chart, the typical procedure. However, at the end of the visit, he decides to put Eddie on a new medication for his headaches. 

Headaches…

Steve flips back to that first day he started visiting Eddie. Finds the note he passive-aggressively took back then:

Eddie has a headache (that’s not a memory thing - he’s just told Steve a thousand times now).

He fans through the other pages as well. At least two-thirds of them mention Eddie complaining about headaches. How did Steve miss this? How could he be so stupid? He was too busy fantasizing about Eddie’s chest tattoos and making shitty mixtapes, that he glossed over something so significant.

Dustin wouldn’t have missed this. Robin wouldn’t have missed this. Nancy definitely wouldn’t have missed this - hell, she would’ve already cracked the Case of the Missing Memories by now. 

Steve is the wrong man for this job. Not enough brainpower to fix a broken brain.

“Uh oh.” Eddie says. “Where you’d go, Harrington?”

Steve glances up to see Eddie pointing his finger at Steve’s head. “Just.. thinking.”

“Share with the class, please.”

Steve struggles to make his voice sound causal about this. “I should’ve known about the headaches. Paid better attention.”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asks. “Because if you are, we need to work on your delivery.”

“Not joking, no.”

Eddie’s tone is mildly annoyed, still gentle though. “Stevie… that guy gets paid a shitload of money to figure out my problems. Truly - the reason there’s no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is because it’s going straight into that guy’s pocket.”

Steve snorts. It’s even funnier to visualize because the doctor is kind of short.

“What I’m saying is, it’s his job to have a big brain.” Eddie’s eye contact is sharp. Broken bottle to his neck sharp. “And your job is to be my eye candy. Sit there and look cute while I try to not hack up my dinner.”

Steve’s hearing went crackly at all of the compliments. “Eye candy, huh?”

“Pretty much.”

Steve no longer has an excuse not to flirt back. Eddie has his mixtape; his arms are bare. He’s obviously encouraging it, even with the knowledge that Steve is a spoiled brat. He likes Steve, not just the good stuff. Eddie is still willing to pursue this even with Steve’s bad qualities.

So fuck it. Steve is gonna delve into his stockpile of pickup lines. He’s gonna rummage around his hoard of provocative catchprashes. Be the horny pack rat that he was born to be.

“Is the sitting part of my job description mandatory?” Steve leans forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“Oh, I’m very lenient on that detail.” Eddie’s voice drops lower. “The cute part… not so much.”

“So you’re only keeping me around for what? My great hair? My symmetrical bone structure? My biceps, maybe?”

“Definitely not your humility, that’s for damn sure.”

They share a smile as Steve gets up, inches closer to Eddie’s bed. He reaches out and pinches the sleeve of Eddie’s hospital gown between his fingers. He cautiously rubs it over a few times, waiting to see Eddie’s reaction to this droplet of affection.

Eddie catches Steve’s wrist with his other hand. Mirrors the rubbing motion Steve set in place with the material.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Steve nudges Eddie lightly. “Is this okay?”

And before he can even get a response back, Eddie’s face starts turning grayish-green. 

This happens. Eddie throws up biweekly, so it’s not a big deal at all. It’s just that Steve is usually not laying on the moves when Eddie is about to blow chunks. Honestly, it knocks Steve’s astronomical ego down a few notches.

He probably deserves it.

Eddie is really sick. He pukes three more times, and he starts running a fever after the second time. He’s all clammy and curled into a pillow, clutching it with shaky fingers.

It’s all side effects from the new medication apparently. Yeah, Eddie’s head is no longer splitting open, but his body is rejecting all of the cardboard hospital food.

Steve keeps an eye on him, not that he can do much about it. He gets a styrofoam cup of ice chips so Eddie can chew on it whenever his temperature spikes. He wipes the sweat off Eddie’s temples because one - it’s a nice gesture, and two - it gives him an excuse to be nearby.

The shivering is driving Steve crazy though. He’s so on edge just watching Eddie like this. Eddie keeps making jokes like ‘at least I’ll remember your stupid worried face in the morning’ or ‘damn, my past better be worth all of this.’ And Steve will chuckle halfheartedly each time.

The heart monitor is all jumpy now. Even, uneven, even, uneven. If Steve focuses on it for too long, it starts to sound like he’s driving by a highway collision. A pileup of beeps and tones.

He gets another cup of cafeteria coffee. Hopes the bitterness and chalky creamer will be enough to muffle his hearing. Steer his mind to an empty exit lane.

“What? No coffee for me?” Eddie is under an extra blanket now.

Steve scoots his chair even closer to Eddie’s bedside. “What’s the point? You’d just puke it all up.” He’s pretty lousy at supportive words, isn’t he?

“Aren’t visiting hours almost over?”

“You trying to get rid of me, Munson?”

“Never. Just figured you needed to catch the bus or whatever.”

Eddie remembers Steve taking the bus.

“Robin finally gave me my car back.” Steve conveniently leaves out how he demanded  for it to be returned to him. “So, I’ll stay until they kick me out… if that’s cool with you.”

He places his non-coffee holding hand over top of Eddie’s open palm. It’s sort of instinctual. Doesn’t give his mind a moment to wonder if this is crossing a line. 

Holding hands in a hospital doesn’t mean romance. It never has. People do it all time, no one bats an eye at them either. It’s just a gesture of helpless support. It’s what people do to signify, ‘I can’t heal you with medicine, but I can warm your under-circulated skin just a little.’

But when Eddie’s fingers curl around his own, Steve’s stomach swells like its romance. It swells with hot air, helium maybe. It swells and stays swollen. Stays thermal and full.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to pay my eye candy overtime.” Eddie’s face rushes all pinkish-red. Almost as if he’s trying to combat his blush with humor, but it’s not working. He’s all the colors now. And with or without them, he’s attractive.

“You don’t pay me at all.”

“You got me there.” Eddie shakes a frizzy curl in front of his cheek. A poor effort to hide his flushed face. “I’m a terrible employer.”

Steve traces the grooves of Eddie’s palm lines. Pretends that they form a railroad track. “The worst.”

Once his fever finally breaks, Eddie falls asleep. His body unfolds, his fingers uncurl. It’s a heavy sleep, one that makes him all languid and soft. Any traces of bones are questionable now.

And even though Steve is about to pass out from exhaustion, he doesn’t move his hand from Eddie’s. He’d rather give up his whole arm than move it.

Sam peaks in just before Steve nods off. She lets in the bright hallway light, not too much though. Not enough to wake Eddie. Honestly, not a lot of things wake Eddie up these days.

“Sorry.” Steve yawns. “I overstayed my welcome.”

She shrugs, checks the fluids in one of Eddie’s IV bags. “You know, you can stay the night, if you’d like.”

“Really?”

“It’s pretty late… you shouldn’t be driving on the highway at this time of night.”

“Won’t I…” Steve reworks the phrase. Tries to be less selfish about it. “Won’t you get in trouble for letting me stay?”

“Oh no.” She winks. “Because I never saw you here.”

Steve smirks. “Got it.”

“But if I did see you here,” She gestures her head to the door on her right. “I would tell you there’s extra pillows in the linen closet over there.”

Sam deserves a fucking raise. Steve would become a goddamn patron of this hospital just to give her more money. Let the godsend of a woman retire early for christ’s sake.

“Thanks, Sam.” Steve whispers.

“Thank you for keeping him company.” She whispers back. “He’s lucky to have someone like you.”

Steve doesn’t know if that’s true, if Eddie is lucky to have him, but he nods anyway. Gives a gentle wave as Sam heads back out of the room.

He sets the pillow next to Eddie’s leg, keeping their hands connected as he dozes off. Steve falls asleep the same way he used to fall asleep in class. All bent over in his chair, one cheek flattened out on the desk. It’s very reminiscent of that.

Only better because he’s with the guy that makes his chest swell, even when he’s being sarcastic or melodramatic. Even when he’s cobwebbed himself into a maze of cords. Even when he’s bitching about batteries and Steve’s vomit-inducing fashion sense.

Steve thinks maybe he likes the undesirable traits of Eddie Munson just as much as the desirable ones.

And once he’s knocked out entirely, the rhythm of his heart matches the beeping monitor hooked up to Eddie’s chest.

Day 57:

It’s been a long time since Steve has had a decent dream. And this dream he’s in right now? It’s fucking luxurious.

He’s at the hair salon, because of course he is - it’s his home away from home. 

His head is reclining back in that giant sink thing. The one that’s like a soup bowl for hair or whatever. The stylist is shampooing his scalp, scrubbing all of those foamy products into his roots. This is Steve’s favorite part of getting his hair done, he always feels blissed out of his mind afterward.

They keep washing it for the whole dream, digging their nails into his head, dunking water over his hair every so often. It’s downright perfection. A dream he could stay stuck in forever. 

The scenery of the dream flickers out, but the sensations linger as he gains consciousness. His squints both of his eyes open, immediately greeted by too much brightness, too much sunlight. Steve shuts them again, soaking up the remnants of his dream. The hair scratching that’s ongoing even though he’s awake.

Awake.

Steve is awake and can still feel all of that salon paradise. His brain finally wakes up enough to realize it isn’t a dream. It’s Eddie’s hands in his hair, combing it thoroughly.

Fuck, it feels so good too. Steve wonders if Eddie is aware of what he’s doing or if he’s also in that suspended place between awake and asleep.

It doesn’t matter, not really. It all feels way too incredible to care about the logistics. Steve nuzzles deeper into the pillow to hide the happy little hums that keep escaping through his mouth. 

Eddie doesn’t stop. He keeps moving his hand around. Twirling strands and releasing them. Ruffling strands and smoothing them. Massaging the pads of his fingers in all the right places. Every bit of it is dreamy. Better than the dream Steve initially believed to be unbeatable.

Being Eddie’s own personal petting zoo is way better. Miles, light years better. Is there any form of measurement longer than lightyears? Because it’s bigger and better than that too.

Eddie tugs a little harder, just once, but once is all it takes to make Steve melt. He open-mouth sighs into the pillow, hoping the fabric mutes the neediness of it. There’s drool on the pillow and it’s unclear if it’s from when he was asleep or if it occurred just from that one hair tug. 

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice still sounds coated in sleep. “Is this weird?”

Steve shakes his head no, still unable to lift his face from the pillow.

“Should I stop?”

Steve shakes his head much faster. Absolutely not. Stopping should be banished from Eddie’s vocabulary. The word ‘stop’ should be homeless as far as Steve is concerned.

Eddie tugs again, more firmly this time. The tug goes straight to Steve’s dick, which yikes. Humiliating. Yeah, it’s morning and this shit happens, but not this kind of boner. Not one brought on by hair salon fantasies and a metalhead with magical fingertips. This can’t be the reality of Steve’s life right now but somehow, it is.

“I think I combed through all of that cake-up hairspray.” Eddie talks as his hand continues to roam around Steve’s scalp. “Feels like cashmere now, so you’re welcome.”

Steve sighs again, pretty sure it’s much more audible this time because Eddie laughs.

“Embarrassing.” Steve mumbles. That’s all he can muster out without becoming a puddle of humiliation.

“The sounds you’re making?”

Steve nods.

“Oh that is not the adjective I would’ve gone with.” Eddie claws his fingers all the way down to Steve’s neck. “Not even close.”

Steve is all hormones now, all slurred speech and thoughtless words. “So good, Eddie.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie whines, sounds breathier than Steve. “You cannot say my name like that when I’m in a tissue-thin gown.”

Steve wants to sneak a peek, see if what Eddie is suggesting holds any truth. He resists, only because he’s trying to sort out his own tent-pitching problems at the moment.

He gradually lifts his head off of the pillow, back cracking as he straightens his spine out after hours of being shaped like fucking tetris piece. It’s the last thing he wants to do because it means Eddie has to take his hand out of Steve’s hair. But as Eddie pulls away, his knuckles brush against Steve’s ear, awakening this newfound urgency to not let this moment fizzle out.

Steve hops up onto the bed, sitting side-saddle next to Eddie. He looks through Eddie’s eyes, the ones that remind him of shimmery dresses and the backseat of his car on prom night. He looks through to find a reason to stop his actions. Stop his need to touch Eddie’s jawline or thumb over his lips. He’s searching for a reason to stop and finding none whatsoever.

“Do you remember me?”

“You’re Steve Harrington.” Eddie kind of stutters as he says it. “Hometown Slut extraordinaire.”

The nerdy bastard is never going to let that one go.

Steve gives a quiet laugh, leaning in to his impulses. He slides his thumb over Eddie’s bottom lip, curving around, mapping invisible outlines. A blueprint for his imagination when they’re apart later. “Am I reading this wrong?”

Eddie’s gaze is glued to Steve’s lips as he shakes his head no.

“Good.”

Steve uses his free hand to lift himself up, get closer. Breathing in the same stale oxygen, sucking up the same early morning courage, existing in the same dizzying climate.

He can feel Eddie exhale softly over his skin when there’s a knock at the door.

Steve has never stood up so fast in his damn life. Gets a head rush that’s so overwhelming that his vision speckles out momentarily. 

It’s Sam. Thank god it’s only Sam. But also, screw god for interrupting what almost happened just now. Not cool, sky man.

“Just a heads up,” she starts, shutting the door behind her. “You have another visitor that just arrived.”

Right. It's the weekend.

Steve and Eddie say it in unison. “Dustin.”

Sam hums in reply. “I can stall him for a couple minutes. Give you time to sneak out the stairs that are tucked in the back hallway.”

“You’re the best.” Steve says. “I’ll be quick.”

She leaves, cracking the door on her way out.

Both of them just look at each other for a moment. There’s no time to even discuss the events that just took place. No time to recover the kiss that is already sneaking out the back hallway stairs.

Steve nervously whistles. “So…”

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“Monday.” 48 hours apart seems insane. “Yeah.”

Steve hurriedly makes his way to the door - refusing his horny impulses the opportunity to kick back in and ruin everything. “See you later, Eds.”

Eddie licks over his bottom lip - the one Steve mapped out with his thumbprint. “Later, sailor.”

Um. What?

Steve’s eyes go large. “What did you just call me?”

“Go.” Eddie flashes the wickedest grin. “We’ll talk all about your ocean of flavor on Monday.”

This can’t be happening. “Ocean of -”

“Get out of here already!”

Steve flings himself out of the room, sprinting down the hall. Does Eddie actually recall Steve working at Starcourt? How can that be possible? Steve doesn’t remember seeing Eddie outside of school ever. 

Plus, they’ve never even talked about his job at Scoops Ahoy. Family Video? Sure, that’s more recent. But Scoops? Steve tries to forget just about everything from his time at that seaside shithole.

Goddamnit, this is confusing. The hair foreplay. The almost-kiss. The nautical nickname. Confusing is an understatement. Steve needs to go back to high school and learn a better word for what this is. Confusing isn’t cutting it anymore.

If Steve can make it till Monday without spiraling into a bucket of nerves, he deserves a fucking trophy.

And a kiss on the lips.

Mostly the second option (although a trophy would be nice too). 

[zhongrin]

drunk (on you)

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, diluc, ayato, kazuha, xiao, al haitham

◇ tags ◇ afab!reader, edging, orgasm denial, oral, overstimulation, masturbation, somnophilia (?)

◇ a/n ◇ pure filth. 'nuff said. sorry not sorry

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

patience might as well be another one of zhongli’s many names.

he’s so patient with you, even as you try to squirm away from his grip, claiming how you can’t cum anymore or how you’re so sensitive. he’s so patient and gentle as he swipes away the hair sticking to your sweaty forehead and cheeks, crooning at how you’ve been so good and how he wanted to spoil you tonight, that you asked for it and he’s just trying to deliver what you want, because that's what good lovers do, right? yes, you’re so lucky he’s so patient, thoroughly making sure you’re ready before guiding you to his cock, for not being a mindless brute and instead entering you inch by inch, for waiting until you adjust to his girth, to the point that you're whining like a bitch in heat and begging for him to move.

he is forever oh-so patient as he fucks you languidly, dragging this burning sensation longer and longer until you’re pleading, praying, crying for him to go faster, harder, deeper.

hmmm. well, he supposes if that’s what you really want, then he can certainly provide….

...... but you never mentioned you wanted to cum, didn’t you?

diluc is always so gentle and aware of his own strength, but seeing you so eager always tests his resolve.

he’s mesmerized as he watches your beautifully divine form bounce on top of him, the way your cunt sinks onto and swallows his hard length, the obscene sounds it makes, the way your expression contorts to the picture of lewdness… you’re so pretty and so good to him, he can’t stop himself from meeting your movements with his thrusts.

a shaky gasp falls from your throat and you still for a moment before going back to work on your sore hips, and your lover grunts in approval as his grip tightens on your thighs. your eyes twinkle under the dim lighting and the adoration in them robs diluc’s breath away, chips his self-control, and overflows his chest with warmth.

as you continue to ride him in a perfect picture of sensuality, he repeatedly urges himself to not flip you over and fuck you to oblivion like what the devil in his head is compelling him to.

but who knows when will his foolish determination snap?

kazuha thinks you must be an expert temptress when you’re kneeling beneath him like this, fully naked while he’s still fully clothed, with his aching cock wrapped within your fingers and your doe-like eyes staring up at him innocently. an ironic description, since there’s nothing innocent about the sinful swipes of your tongue and the hallowing of your cheeks, the sound of you sucking him off mixing with the squelches of your other hand that’s also playing with your own sex.

he wishes he could have done this on the bed, so he can pleasure you back as you deserve, but with the crew potentially lingering right outside the room, he would rather not take the risk of getting caught.

his weeping head hits the back of your throat in a sudden motion, and your adorable boyfriend’s head hits the wall with a loud thump. you look up to him through teary eyes, humming around his cock to ask whether he was fine, but it merely makes him grit his teeth harder, the grip on your hair tightening before he’s shooting his load down your throat.

your mouth releases him with a pop, and kazuha can only watch in half-lidded eyes, ecstasy still making his brain lag, as you stand up slowly - the little wobble of your legs makes him chuckle in his half-dazed state - before pushing him onto the wall further with mischief written all over your face, pressing your crotch against his.

the ronin groans. it seems like there’s no chance of you relocating to the bedroom anytime soon. hopefully, the crew won't be looking for either of you anytime soon...

ayato loves it when you’re being especially obedient, putting on a show for him at his request after a long, tiring day at work.

he watches with bated breath as you remove your clothing piece by piece, letting your hair fall free, tucking your obi to the sides, slipping off your kimono sensually to reveal the lacy garments which are barely covering your hardened nipples and the darker shade of your panties that’s showcasing how needy you are for his attention.

and since you’ve indulged him, it’s only fair that he indulges you, too.

he’s chuckling in amusement when you're reduced to babbling a resemblance of his name, breasts long since freed from the pretty lingerie and bouncing in time with his thrusts. you’re folded underneath him, pliant and mind emptied out of anything that’s not his name, just the way he likes it.

one of your trembling arms reaches out, making a vaguely grabby notion, and he hums before leaning forward, hips slowing to a slow roll as he gives you a sweet, loving kiss, a contrast to his previous actions.

and yet the moment he pulls back, everything is back in full force, your toes almost cramp as they curl from the overwhelming pleasure, lips falling open to continue to worship your husband’s name.

seems like none of the people sleeping at kamisato residence are getting any sleep tonight.

xiao might adore you to death, but he also thinks you're a fearsome entity. the way you move and tease him all day, the sly looks and shy glances thrown his way, how your cute lips curl so enticingly as if it’s asking to be bitten, bruised, lavished with love and attention.... you don't need to spare any real effort to bring such a powerful being to his knees.

yes, fearsome truly is a fitting word, he thinks.

but conquering demons and powerful beings are the things he does on daily for most of the millennia he's lived, and he’s determined to level the playing field.

the first time he tried to eat you out, he was clumsy - he had yet to know your likes and dislikes, unfamiliar with the chart of your body like a clueless sailor on his first sailing journey. but just as he had tirelessly honed his skills with the spear before being proficient enough with it to wield the weapon with his eyes closed, he quickly learned to create a mental map of your body within his head.

and just as how all hard workers eventually reap the fruits of their hard work, he’s rewarded with being buried within your thighs, your soft fingers scratching his scalp as he sucked on your oversensitive clit. four of his trained fingers are relentlessly stirring your insides, his arm already drenched with your cum as he worked tirelessly to help you reach yet another climax. your legs are twitching uncontrollably, lewd moans ringing within his ears along with the indecent sounds of wetness that's gushing out of you the more he grinds against your sweet spots with his fingers.

your walls seize and convulse around his appendages and he gives you a harsh suck, pace slowing as he helps you ease down the mind-numbing orgasm clouding your senses. golden eyes peek up from your shaking abdomen, and xiao's hand holds one of your thighs before leaning onto them, waiting until your eyes find his longing gaze, "… more?"

al haitham thinks of himself as a rational and collected man. no, scratch that - he thought he was a rational and collected man.

but the moment his gaze falls onto your sleeping form on your shared bed, bare expanses of skin shining under the moonlight, all his rationale seems to have deleted itself from his brain.

curious hands paw on the plump of your thighs, slipping behind hiked up shirt - fuck, is that his shirt? - and there goes his composure out the window.

he’s rutting onto you like an animal in heat, strong arms wrapped around your slowly stirring form, and it’s a miracle that he managed to slip his hard-on out of his pants. your lover greets you with a kiss as you wake up, disoriented and discombobulated from the sudden spike of pleasure of being filled again and again with his aching cock.

as you sob and loop your arms around him to bring his closer, he’s growling about how much of a seductress you are without trying, hissing about how you’re practically leaving yourself open like a clueless rabbit in the grassy plains of sumeru’s hills, waiting for a hawk to come and snatch you away.

teeth nibbles and grazes against your neck, legs spread open and held down by his arms, your high hits you unexpectedly, tearing sobs and moans of your darling's name. al haitham sighs, gives you a short moment of respite as he feels your walls spasm and tries to suck him even deeper. he can see that you’re tired and you’re about to fall back asleep. he should be the caring lover who pulls out, cleans you up, and tries to relieve himself in the shower.

amidst the lust consuming his being, he feels you squeeze his hand three times. your agreed gesture for ‘green’.

a curse left his lips, his hips automatically returning to the brutish pace it was before, his sensitive tip grinding against your cervix.

“hah- always so good for me, fuck-”

he’ll spoil you rotten tomorrow, but for now, he’s going to relish being intoxicated by your body, since you’ve so nicely relinquished it to him.

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @paintingsofdragonspine | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @niverine

ps. if you want to be removed/added from the taglist, just send an ask!

[heavenlymorals]

The Deeper Meaning of Loan-Sharking

Warning: spoilers for both Red Dead games

The complexity of RDR2's story blows me away every fucking day because oh my god- the characters, the themes, the symbolism, the call backs to other medias and so on and so forth.

But here is one thing that stuck with me when I realized it for the first time-

The deeper meaning of the loan sharking missions.

The main purpose of those missions were obviously to show a change of character in Arthur Morgan- from a heartless enforcer, a plague to the down-trodden, to a heartbroken man, ashamed of his actions, and trying to remedy what he can without the hope for forgiveness because he knows he doesn't deserve it.

The loan sharking missions are the most obvious and in your face representation of Arthur's redemption arc.

But at its core, it felt like a nod to criticisms that the 1800s romantics and naturalists had towards the concept of civilization, a direct call back to Dutch's philosophy all throughout both RDR and RDR2.

What do I mean by this?

All throughout the game, the gang tries to fight civilization in an almost Robinhood esque way- these American knights wrecking havoc for the dreams of their outlaw king. They rob the rich, who Dutch sees as the reason for America's moral failure, and those who protect these rich men because they add to those men's power. It all sounds very noble but it's a useless and bloody fight.

Mac and Davey get killed, Jenny gets killed, Sean gets killed, Kieren gets killed, Hosea and Lenny get Killed, Molly gets killed.

This gang life for a dream that'll never be realized kills people and consumes them until there is nothing left but husks of people who had dreams of their own.

The romantic dream will only be a dream and the only place it can be a reality is in books and philosophies. Civilization is the truth- it saves humanity from the hell that is anarchy or so it seems.

The gang fought against the encroaching civilization that threatened to devour the West and Arthur followed Dutch and showed the same sentiments regarding civilization- and by following Dutch, he followed that same ideal, even if his heart wasn't fully in it.

The gang life- coming to an end and no longer sustainable- showed the impossibility of this beautiful dream as it destroyed everything but that wasn't the thing that killed Arthur in the end.

Tuberculosis killed Arthur. Tuberculosis from loan sharking.

"It's legal work, Mr. Morgan." Strauss to Arthur.

The legal work killed Arthur in the end, not the shootouts or gang feuds. The civilized work killed Arthur in the end. The civilized world beat Mr.Downes, a poor, dying man trying to do his best for his family. The civilized world killed Arthur Londonderry.

The civilized world and this legal work sucked the life out of the poor so rich men can get richer and take everything they can around for their greed can not be satiated.

The civilized work, the legal work killed Arthur Morgan.

The hypocrisy of it all is so heartbreaking because despite all the bad things the gang did, the philosophy, the too idealistic and romantic philosophy they fought for, that could never be realized in the world they lived in, held truth.

And that small monocum of truth kept Dutch fighting and fighting until he no longer could by commiting suicide.

Good God I love this game.

[lakesbian]

brian is Such a funny fucking character btw. i love brian. sometimes i think about him too hard and just randomly start laughing. he’s introduced as the nice handsome strong love interest with a boyish smile and by the time the story is over he’s suffered more than jesus. it would have genuinely been kinder to crucify him. brian is the literal poster child for “fate worse than death.” brian is like if the long-suffering older brother archetype was a guy. if his life is a peaceful drive down a highway his girlfriend is the bug-covered freak who gets into the car, throws him into the passenger seat, grabs the wheel, and rams the entire vehicle directly through the wall of the nearest police headquarters at 129mph. and then she gets out and becomes the new police chief (previous police chief died when the car hit) and just fucking leaves him there. he’s not even normal but everyone else is so much worse than him that it ends up being his job to make like he’s the normal one anyway. you try to rob one gas station so your absolutely horrible little sister whom you love doesn’t go to juvie and then the next thing you know Taylor Fucking Hebert is calling you to inform you that she just killed wonder woman. he HAS had bugs on his dick before and he’s just going to have to live with that. Wouldn’t even notice with the type of shit he’s got going on. He emanates darkness to cope and it does not fucking work. his life sucks so fucking bad man. I love him. 

[myths-tournaments]

Awful Characters Round 2 Part 1 (5/8)

Propaganda under the cut!

SHEN JIU

YES he abused a child and killed an entire manor of people, but it was probably only one child and allegedly the people sucked. Surely this is not behavior deserving of being turned into a human stick or having your body possessed by a weeb. I love him because sometimes mean people are fun and also who can resist a good redemption tale (he deserves one).

BENNY GECKO

The first thing that happens in new vegas is that benny fucking shoots your character in the face, steals your shit and leaves you in an open grave. Benny is by all accounts a bastard. He kills you, steals from you, he killed his last boss, he is the single most duplicitous man around. His gang are all about honesty- except him. He's a lying, cheating bastard. The guys who helped him catch you? He skipped on paying them and left them to get shot to death. His new boss, mr.house? He stole his robot, broke it open, got someone to reprogram it and decided to use it to TAKE OVER THE WHOLE OF VEGAS. Benny literally kills people, lies to people, steals their shit and takes charge. That's all benny does. He gets fucking CRUCIFIED if you don't help him out just because so many people fucking hate him. And yet. And yet. Benny is the single most compelling character in the whole game to me. He's just a little guy! He's just there! You can get shot in the head and come back and he goes "what in the goddamn" and then if you try and flirt with him he's like "uhhh sure? Okay?" And leaves you a polite note in the morning. He's fancy. He wears a stupid suit. He has a tiny gun with shitty bullets. He's catholic. He talks like an old timey news presenter. Literally nobody else in the entire game does that. He's got an intelligence of 3. He's my funtime boy. My silly little man. He's so funny. The antagonist in this game is a guy dressed like a tablecloth who looks at all times like a confused dog who doesn't understand what a tv is. And like. He's compelling. He robs from you, shoots you, but…. he never seems to actually wish you harm. He kills and robs and lies but like. He apologises for doing it to you. When he sees you again he doesn't attack you, he's just… confused. He tries to defuse the situation. You can convince him to talk to you, alone, with no guards and it's not that hard. If you spare his life, he doesn't go after you, like. Even if you sleep with him he doesn't take advantage of that and kill you, even if you try to. He… he just leaves. He gives you an apology. If he gets kidnapped by Caesar He just… apologizes again. He tells you his whole plan to take over the city, too. He thinks he'll die, and he wants something of him to survive. He's happy that you made it. And if you let him free, he just… leaves. He knows he's beat, he doesn't want to cause any more trouble. He walks out and leaves. The NCR will kill you if you cross them. The legion will crucify you. House? He'll blow you the fuck up. But benny, the guy who lies and cheats and schemes, he's honest. He's polite. He's… harmless. You can kill him with a single shot if you want. And he can't kill you. He doesn't kill you the first time, and he'll never really hurt you again. Benny just wanted to win. When he knows he's beat he just leaves. No lingering, no harm, he's off, off into the desert heat, and never seen again. Isn't that just insane? like have you ever known an antagonist so polite? He just leaves!! He offers you a drink!! His plan is genuinely probably the best one for the people of new vegas!!! He's. Benny is Benny.

Anyway if you want to see some REAL propaganda go to the blog @letmebegaytodd and look in the #benny tag. You'll Understand < https://www.tumblr.com/letmebegaytodd/717051175751614464/in-another-life-i-wouldve-really-liked-just> <- look at this shit man

[pluckyredhead]

Character Profile: Rose Wilson (Ravager)

By popular demand, the next member of the Lost Titans: Rose Wilson!

Rose was introduced in Deathstroke the Terminator #15 in 1992. She is the daughter of Slade Wilson, a.k.a. Deathstroke the Terminator, and at the risk of rehashing stuff everyone knows, I have to give you the basics on Slade, too.

Slade Wilson was a soldier (originally in Vietnam, though that's obviously been updated since) who was so good at soldiering that the army gave him a super soldier serum that made him faster and stronger than any normal human. After leaving the military, he became an assassin - unbeknownst to his wife, Adeline, and their young sons Grant and Joey. When Slade's secret assassin-ing and ego caused Joey's throat to be slit, rendering him mute for life, Adeline left him.

The Wilson family first crossed paths with the New Teen Titans years later when Grant became the supervillain Ravager. When Grant's own janky powers got him killed, Slade decided this was the Titans' fault somehow and vowed revenge. This involved sleeping with a fifteen-year-old girl for some reason. Slade is a terrible person.

Meanwhile, Joey grew up to become the superhero Jericho, and became a long-standing member of the Titans. However, he got possessed by like a thousand ghosts at once, like you do, and went crazy and evil, and Slade had to kill him for his own good.

By this point, Slade had become such a popular character that he'd shifted from villain to antihero. (Never mind all the attempted child murder and statutory rape.) It was in this context, fresh after Joey's death, that Rose was introduced.

Rose is the daughter of a woman named Lillian Worth, a.k.a. Sweet Lili, a Cambodian woman who Slade once helped escape from the Khmer Rouge. Lili set up a high-end brothel in the States, and she and Slade became essentially fuckbuddies (this was after Slade's divorce), which eventually led to Rose. Lili didn't tell Slade about Rose because of his...everything, and Rose had a happy childhood, growing up with the other sex workers' kids in the brothel.

Unfortunately, Slade's enemies eventually came for Rose. Specifically, Slade's evil, shitty half-brother Wade LaFarge. (If you're thinking "Wait...Slade Wilson has a brother named Wade?" then yes, Deadpool was in fact Rob Liefeld shamelessly ripping off Deathstroke. Liefeld's collaborate Fabian Nicieza named him Wade to acknowledge this, and joked that he was Slade's brother. So Marv Wolfman gave Slade an actual brother named Wade, who sucks so bad and who nobody likes. I don't think Marv was happy about Deadpool.)

Anyway, Wade became the fourth Ravager (don't worry about the second or third, they don't matter) and kidnapped Rose. Slade...basically decided not to try to rescue her because he was busy, leaving the job to Lili and his best friend Wintergreen. Rose, who had been trained in martial arts by her mother, managed to partially escape on her own...at which point Lili showed up and tried to kill Wade by hitting him with her car...and driving them both off a cliff. This is usually described as Wade killing Lili, which...okay. (She died, but he secretly survived, because of course he did.)

Slade refused to take any responsibility for Rose, afraid of putting her in even more danger, so this extremely traumatized tween was placed in the care of the Titans, who at this point were led by Roy Harper. She was still a civilian at this point, although she did spar with the team, and she also showed she was not to be fucked with when women and children were in danger:

This is when Rose's powers first manifested: she has precognitive abilities, which originally involved lengthy visions of the distant future but quickly became flashes of what is about to happen, which makes her particularly good in a fight because she can predict what her opponent will do.

Also! During this period she became friends with Grant and also developed a brief but adorable crush on Kyle Rayner, while Bart Allen developed a brief but adorable crush on her. Babies!

She later shows up in the 1999 Titans series, considerably older (I'm assuming she's at least 18 here), when Roy hires her to be Lian's nanny, a job she takes very seriously:

But then the 1999 series was canceled. Then the 2003 Teen Titans series began, and very quickly it was revealed that Joey Wilson was alive, that he had been possessing his father, and that that was the reason for Slade's turn as an antihero, not any actual desire on Slade's part to be good. A newly freed Slade decides he wants a do-over with one of his kids.

Meanwhile, Rose has been placed with a foster family, because I guess she's somehow underage again? But said family is then murdered by Wade LaFarge - remember him? - who then kidnaps Rose. Who is rescued by Slade:

Rose, at Slade's encouragement, kills Wade and becomes the new Ravager. It's later revealed (to the reader, not to Rose) that Slade anonymously hired Wade to kill Rose's family because he wanted exactly this setup: for Rose to become completely emotionally dependent on and devoted to him.

Rose spends the next few years by her father's side, attacking the Titans and saying "Yes, daddy" in a sexy baby voice a lot. It's...tiresome. She's so determined to prove her loyalty that she even stabs her own left eye out, because we're in the mid-2000s now and it's peak edgelord time, baby! It's later explained that she's behaving like this because Slade drugged her with the same super soldier serum that gave him his powers (???), so Rose is now also extra strong, fast, etc.

Slade blackmails Dick (in his "villain" era) into briefly training Rose, and I have to include this panel because it kills me every time:

She's trying to be mean and scary but she loves the Harpers so much. I'm cry.

Anyway, Slade has only involved Dick as part of a convoluted plot to kill Superman by putting kryptonite in Rose's empty eye socket (sure), and when Dick reveals that kryptonite causes cancer in humans and that Slade knew that perfectly well and just didn't give a shit about Rose, Rose decides to go back to the side of good and join the Teen Titans properly.

It...does not go smoothly. Cassie hates and distrusts Rose and makes that very clear, and Rose responds by being as obnoxious and antisocial as possible, constantly accusing the other Titans of not trusting her, and basically causing problems on purpose. Like slipping naked into Tim's bed to surprise him problems:

I want to be clear that the writing here is absolutely abysmal. Johns and later writers (and artists) were trying to make Rose sexy sexy jailbait and also going for some kind of reductive Madonna/whore dichotomy with her and Cassie, and it's all very sexist and boring. But if you look past the, uh, actual comics, I do think that a lot of Rose's characterization here makes sense. She's a very traumatized teenager who expects people to dislike her, so she ensures that they dislike her to maintain control of the situation. She sees sex very much as something transactional and rooted in power exchange - which makes a lot of sense, since she was raised in a brothel! Plus she likes starting shit for fun. The comics are bad, but the idea of Rose is so, so good.

Another thing that is good in concept but shitty in execution: Rose/Eddie. As I mentioned in my Eddie profile, Eddie is utterly smitten with Rose pretty much immediately and he is both not at all subtle about it but also not at all a Nice Guy - his feelings are his to deal with and he never puts them on her to manage for him. Rose, for her part, doesn't seem to know how to handle just...a sweet boy who adores her, and so she alternates between flirting with him, being extremely mean to him, and being fiercely protective of him.

That last comes into play when Eddie is abducted by a villain team called (sigh) the Terror Titans. Rose fights her way through a gauntlet of them to rescue him, which is SO DAMN ROMANTIC even if the comic looks like shit. But she's so ruthless about it that Cassie and Tim discuss kicking her off the team, which she overhears - so she defects to the Terror Titans. Her plan is to go in undercover and take them down, but during the storyline she starts to wonder if maybe this isn't where she belongs after all.

Rose. Honey. Baby girl. The Terror Titans are led by the fucking Clock King, a loser in clock glasses who likes to sleep with teenage girls and is making other teenage superheroes fight each other to death in a ring. No, this is not where you belong.

(During this period Rose also becomes addicted to huffing adrenalin. I truly do not know how I made it through the late 2000s, y'all. The comics were abysmal.)

Somewhere in there Joey Wilson comes back as a hero, and he and Rose quickly bond, which is as touching as it is heartbreaking. But Joey is still deeply unwell, and despite Rose's best efforts, he goes villain again, and she has to help the Titans take him down. After butting heads with Cassie again, Rose decides to leave the Titans, again. She tries to convince a depowered Eddie to come with her, but he declines. She then stars in her own backup feature where she travels to a remote Canadian village and saves a bunch of women and children from trafficking; while she's gone, Eddie is killed. Rose then returns to the Teen Titans for the fifth time and remains on the team until Flashpoint.

New 52 Rose is...honestly I'm not even going to try to explain her, because most of it is just incomprehensible nonsense. She shows up as a supporting character (with two eyes) in Superboy and The Ravagers, but it really feels like Lobdell just used the character name (and a worse design, which is saying something) for an OC. She's basically hired muscle for an evil lab, and there's no mention of Deathstroke for ages.

Eventually over in Deathstroke's book, it's revealed that Rose's mother is Adeline in this universe, not Lili, which means that Rose has been completely whitewashed. Of course most art of her has always depicted her as white, but this erased any possibility of her being biracial. The Wilson family's New 52 adventures culminate in Slade killing both Grant and Joey by sticking a sword through their heads (?) while Rose watches in horror, which is so awful as to be actively hilarious.

Also the New 52 is of course where we got the first hint of a Jason/Rose relationship, when she appears in Red Hood and the Outlaws as his ex. This has nothing to do with any of her other completely contradictory appearances during this era. The New 52 was a goddamn mess.

Rebirth erased all of that mishegas, thankfully. Rose is once again Lili's daughter, and Lili is specified to be Hmong, meaning Rose is too. In a change from the pre-Flashpoint continuity, Rose was conceived while Slade and Addie were still married, meaning Slade was cheating on Addie with Lili. In fact, Slade was out of town saving Rose's life when Joey's throat was slit, so Addie viscerally hates Rose even though obviously none of that was Rose's fault. Despite this, Rose and Joey are quite close and love each other fiercely, which is nice, even if the astonishing toxicity of the Wilson family means they can't really do anything in a healthy or functional way, including love.

Here's an example of what I mean: during this period, Rose became possessed by an ancient Vietnamese warrior princess who occasionally took over her body. During one of those times, she killed Joey's fiancee (who was also sleeping with Slade) (and who Joey was cheating on with Slade's friend, a man at least twice his age). Joey forgave her. So that's...nice? I guess?

Both of you need so much therapy and also to go no contact with your father.

As of Infinite Frontier, Rose's original history seems to be pretty much intact, except that she has two eyes. (Her missing eye was restored by the New 52, although she was wearing an eyepatch in Death Metal. Maybe just for fun?)

She next appeared in Robin, hanging out on Lazarus Island with Damian, partially to keep an eye on him but mostly because she was trying to figure out what the deal was with one of the other competitors in the assassin tournament, a kid named Respawn. Eventually Respawn was revealed to be a clone of Talia and Slade, so basically Rose's younger half brother. Rose tried to take him under her wing, but she made the mistake of introducing him to Slade, who was like "Yes! A third chance to have a son and not fuck it all up entirely!" Rose was like "Hey maybe don't hang out with Slade" and Respawn was like "No this seems fine" and then Respawn was almost instantly murdered. So. That was a bummer.

Should've listened, Grant 2.0.

These days, Rose is a member of the clandestine team Stormwatch for some reason, and is appearing with them in Batman: The Brave and the Bold.

Rose is one of those characters who is a fan favorite of gross dudes and so a lot of the writing (and art, oh god the art) around her has been truly abysmal. But she's so popular that every so often she's in something really solid, and even when the comics are bad, she somehow shines as a really fascinating, heartbreaking, lovable character. Maybe someday we'll get a really good Ravager and Jericho miniseries, that would be nice. In the meantime, there's always twelve thousand shitty issues of Teen Titans!