#i fucking hate ed tumblr so much

[starrrberry]

.

[nero-neptune]

i think election 2024 articles that say stuff like "should gretchen whitmer or kamala harris or gavin newsom should replace biden?" really, Really underestimate the number of americans who 1) hate women and 2) hate californians.

and if i could hazard a 3rd point- democrats are picky eaters. republicans can fucking despise a candidate to hell and back, want them dead for personal reasons, think they're dumber than a bag of rocks, know Full well they're in a steep cognitive decline, and Still vote for them bc they want democrats (and the people who vote for them) to suffer by any means necessary and it's witnessing that suffering that fuels them until the next round of voting. also god said so. democrats want candidates to pass some arbitrary, unrealisitc vibe check, and even then they could barely vote in lockstep if you paid them.

i'd say this happens every 4 years, but given the amount of democrat voters that don't even show up for the little local elections in-between while republican voters do damn near Every Single Time, well. and then you wonder why we're here.

[idontdrinkgatorade]

i feel so anxious rn

[yeetyeetchickenmeat]

hate how i go to autopilot when im with other people because it means i have to look back at what i did/said and its makes me want to bury myself alive </3

[pepprs]

um… bad jew moment 💃🏻

[green-thots]

That Fucking Compression Shirt - Ran Takahashi x Reader

A/N - I’ll be honest this took absolutely forever but my absolute obsession with Ran Takahashi overpowered my writer’s block. Also I’m pissed that Tumblr gets rid of my indents every time I take a story from my docs and I’m too lazy to go back I and add it again.

Warnings - 18+ content, smut, reader is thirsty, lowkey choking, use of “good girl”, brat taming, & edging (if I missed any please tell me)

WC - 2782

I used to hate co-ed practice. The gym would always smell like ass and if it weren’t for the combination of my defense and our libero’s, we never would come close to winning a scrimmage.

But, dating a member of the opposite team makes practice just a bit more fun, especially when he decides to wear that oh-so-slutty compression shirt that he knows drives me crazy.

I’m convinced he only started wearing that to co-ed practice because on our first date, after a few too many drinks, I admitted that I would 100% jump on his dick if he ever wore his practice compression shirt around me ever again.

We’ve been practicing hitting lines for the past fifteen minutes and with the coaches on our ass after the last match, there’s no end in sight. My only saving grace is getting to watch sweaty Ran smack the ball about as hard as I’d like him to smack my ass, but he already knows that.

His shorts are shorter and tighter than usual, allowing me the wonderful view of his quads as he jumps into the air to reach the top of the net. But somehow, my view just gets better. His long sleeves make his biceps look large enough to choke me, which they are, and his abs tight enough to ride. I’ve seen his high school pictures, he definitely grew out of his twink look alike phase.

“I can smell the thirst from here,” Yuji mutters, snapping me out of my trance-like state. He’s standing with his hands on his hips with that self assured smirk on his face.

I turn to him with a glare, “I’m not thirsting over him, he just looks good.”

“Oh, you’re definitely thirsting over him. You’ve been eye-fucking him for practically the entire practice.” Yamauchi chimes in, popping into line behind Yuji and I.

“You two are absolutely insufferable,” I grumble, turning back around to the front of the line.

They both let out a laugh before Yuji spits out, “We’re just simply stating what’s true.” Earning an eye roll from me.

“Alright everybody, we’re switching to digs for a bit,” Coach yells, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention, “y/n, you’re up first.”

Goddamnit, this woman is going to be the death of me. It’s almost like she knows my head is as far away from volleyball right now as physically possible.

I walk into the middle of the court as Ishikawa is getting ready to spike at me.

Ran just so happens to be directly left of me so I bend a little lower than I normally would for a dig just to give him a better view of the ass he’s left his mark on. I smirk at him and his brows furrow, a dangerous glint in his eyes. To an outsider, he looks pissed, but I know that he’s just worked up and I’m more than happy to let him take his anger out on me once we get home.

Ishikawa approaches, swings, and slams the ball down toward the ground. Ishikawa is good, but I’ve been perfecting my digs for years. Just in time, I get my arms under the ball, popping it up into the setters box. The impact stings like a bitch but you get used to it when you’ve been practicing with Olympic level players for almost two years.

I walk back over next to Ran, Yuji taking his place next for digs.

“Stop being a brat,” he mutters in my ear. He side eyes me with a smirk on his lips.

“But it’s just so much fun watching you get all worked up,” I reply, narrowing my eyes at him. He glares at me, adjusting his shorts. Yeah, I knew you couldn’t resist me.

“You won’t be having this much fun when we get home,” he bites out, careful to not let anyone else hear our conversation.

~

After a brutal practice, filled with many more lust filled glares from my lovely boyfriend, I’m shaking in anticipation as I take my gear off and get ready to go home.

Ran walks over to my place on the floor, duffle bag in hand, “Let’s get out of here.”

I nod my head, pulling on my crocs and using his outstretched hand to pull me up off the ground.

“We should all go out for sushi,” Ogawa exclaims, murmurs of agreement sounding off around the gym.

Ran begins to pull me toward the gym doors, “we can’t, we already have plans for the night.” Ogawa pouts in disappointment, he’s always been pretty close with Ran.

As Ran and I walk out the door, Yuji shouts loud enough for the entire gym to hear, “try not to leave any visible marks this time!” He really never has any shame, even at the expense of me, his self-titled ‘best friend.’

Ran muffles a snort with his other hand. I throw up a middle finger behind me as I walk out the door.

Yuji knows Ran heavily enjoys marking, since after our last team beach trip, I had forgotten about the copious amount of hickies on my thighs until Yuji started cackling hysterically.

“I’m gonna kill him for that,” I say as we step out of the elevator into the parking garage.

~

I barely even get a second to kick off my shoes and drop my bag before I’m being slammed up against the wall, Ran’s lips on mine. His kisses are hungry and devouring.

Pulling away from my lips just barely an inch, he mutters, “why do you always make me pop a boner whenever we’re around friends?”

Although it’s most likely a rhetorical question and he’s not really expecting an answer, I tease, “Because I know you’ll punish me as soon as we get home and we both know I enjoy your punishments much more than I hate them.”

He gives me a knowing look then presses his lips back on mine, biting slightly on my lower lip. “You’ve got such a dirty little mouth on you,” he says against my lips.

I smile, playing with the hem of his shirt, starting to ride it up over his stomach. I drag his shirt up slowly. Over the entirety of his abs, up to his chest, and over his shoulders, pulling it over his head and outstretched arms, throwing it somewhere across the room. Usually, he wouldn’t even let me get this far. He would pin my hands to the wall before I could even touch him and stop any seductive plan I had my mind set on.

He moves his hands to fondle my ass through my shorts, his lips traveling down onto the sweet spot where my jaw connects with my neck. I throw my head back and let out a whimper. It’s almost like he knows my body as well as he knows his own.

I run my hands through the roots of his thick waves, tugging slightly when I reach the crown of his head. He lets out a low growl, continuing his assault on my neck that is sure to leave marks but looking up at me in warning.

I know I’m beginning to tug at the ends of the already short leash he’s letting me have, but it’s just so much fun when he gets mad.

“Jump,” he growls, his face still buried in my neck. Not wanting to push my limits, I oblige. I jump and wrap my legs around his waist, his hands still planted firmly on my ass, holding me in place.

He quickly moves us out of the entryway, up the stairs, and into our bedroom without much hassle. He throws me down onto the bed and lurks over me. I think this might just be my favorite version of Ran. His hair fluffy and wild from my hands just moments ago. He’s breathing heavily and his abs are glistening with the still-lingering sweat from practice. And to put the cherry on top, there is a very obvious tent in his pants, as if the gray sweats didn’t already leave more than enough to the imagination. He’s a heavenly sight. I would even go as far to say he’s god-like in my eyes.

He leans down even closer to me and swipes off my shirt and sports bra in one smooth motion. My nipples harden at the sudden rush of cold air from the constant use of the air conditioner.

Softly but so demanding at the same time, Ran puts one large hand around my throat. He doesn’t apply much pressure, but he uses my neck to push me down flat onto the bed, chiming, “You’re so naughty, aren’t ya’ babe?”

I try to nod with what little motion of my head his hand allows. If I wasn’t dripping while staring at him during practice then I sure am now.

He glides the hand around my throat down to fondle my chest, using his other hand to prop himself up over me.

“I know how much you love it when I feel you up,” He purrs, his breath hot over my stomach, “but I don’t think you deserve that.”

“You’re just gonna keep torturing me all night?” I whine, threading my fingers through his hair once again.

“Maybe,” he says, pausing to leave a kiss right above the waistband of my spandex, “I guess that will depend on how good you are for the remainder of the night.”

With the hand he was using on my chest, he pushes my legs apart. He starts to rub my inner thigh, so close enough to where he knows I want him but so far it’s frustrating the hell out of me. I huff in annoyance and he lets out a short, raspy laugh.

“Well I’m very happy my pain brings you amusement,” I snark, pulling his hair enough to make him jolt a bit.

His eyes are glazed when he looks up at me from in between my legs, “Based on the way your pussy is soaking through your shorts, I know you’re enjoying this.”

Okay, maybe he does have a point.

He grasps the waistband of my shorts and panties, letting his fingers brush against my bikini line. I lift my hips up off the bed, giving Ran the chance to tug them off.

“Motherfucker,” he mutters, just barely loud enough for me to hear, “you must be really worked up.” He runs a finger through the slick that has already gathered at my entrance, a devilish smirk on his face. The sadistic side of him enjoys how much he affects me when in reality he is doing so little.

He leans closer and closer until his nose brushes my clit. He licks a painfully slow stripe up my cunt pulling a moan of both pleasure and annoyance from my lips. He hums in response to my noises, his voice vibrating my pussy in the best way. At an almost torturously slow pace, he circles my clit with his tongue.

“Please,” I beg, “just go faster.”

“Only good girls get to feel good,” Ran hums against me, his words barely even register in my head as he slides a long finger inside of me. He takes it slow but finds my g-spot with the tip of his finger almost immediately.

He thrusts his finger into me, slow enough to tease, but fast enough to keep me from complaining. He slips in a second finger and then a third, keeping pace by upping the speed of the circles around my clit.

I arch my hips closer to him, pressing his face harder into my pussy and trying to get his fingers to go as deep as they can.

With all the anticipation from the day and the yearning from not getting the chance to fuck in almost two weeks, I’m already on the edge.

“Oh my- Fuck,” I moan, squeezing my eyes shut, “I think I’m gonna cum.” Immediately, he stops everything. He stands up, pulling his fingers out of me. They’re slick and nearly dripping. He makes a show out of slowly licking them clean, his glazed over eyes staring so deeply that I’m sure at that moment he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“Now why’d you have to go and stop? We were just getting to the fun part,” I pout, throwing my arms over my head. God, being a brat really is my favorite.

He’s stepping out of his sweats and boxers, “Didn’t I tell you that you weren’t going to cum unless you prove you can be good?” Ran shoots back with a hint of humor in his voice. His cock is rock hard, resting against his thigh and the tip is beginning to drip with precum. I just know he must be itching to fuck me into next week right here, right now but he’s holding back all for the sake of teaching me a lesson when we both know I’ll be right back to being a brat within a few days.

He strokes his cock slowly, letting the tip drag up and down my pussy. He uses his other hand to squeeze my thigh, surely leaving bruises that will be hard to cover up during tomorrow’s practice.

“I promise I’ll be good, babe, just please fuck me,” I give him my best puppy dog eyes as I beg. We both know I’m full of shit but Ran takes immense pleasure in watching me beg for just an ounce of pleasure from him.

He lets out a laugh that I truly believe rivals the epitome of happiness and finally slips the tip of his cock into my cunt, “Lucky for you I might cum in my pants if I don’t, but I haven’t decided if you deserve to cum yet.” He’s fucking cruel but I love it.

He slides all seven inches to the hilt, filling me up so good. Although we’ve been fucking like rabbits almost daily since we started dating nearly two years ago, I’ll never get tired of the way he makes me feel so whole. He starts thrusting slowly, his cock head nearly bruising my cervix with every thrust. His hands now rest on my hips, his fingertips digging into my skin, leaving red marks that are sure to turn black and blue eventually.

A mix of my own moans and Ran’s echo around the room as he picks up the speed of his thrusts. His head is thrown back and his eyes are pressed shut. In turn, I’m gazing at the beautiful sight of Ran in pure bliss before me, which enhances my own pleasure tenfold.

“Fuck, y/n,” he moans, his eyes now open and looking down at where our bodies are connected, “god you feel so good.” By now, he’s pounding me so hard I might just struggle to walk in the morning. He has the mix of fast and deep that we both enjoy perfected to the point where I’m at the edge again after only a few minutes.

“I’m gonna cum,” I stutter out, feeling so much pleasure that it takes too much brain power to form just one coherent sentence.

He’s gazing into my eyes now, “I’m nearly there, just wait for me.” If it was even possible to go faster, then he’s picking up his pace to that point, fucking me so fast that my body is vibrating at a frequency that I didn’t even know was possible until now.

“Ran, please, I’ve been so good” I beg, tears in my eyes from pleasure so intense it’s borderline painful. He grunts, his jaw clenched as he reaches to rub my clit with one hand.

“Come on now then, sweets,” he says. I can feel his cock pulsating inside of me telling me that he won’t last much longer either.

With one more thrust, the stimulation becomes too much, pushing me over the edge. I cum with a moan so loud the neighbors two floors down are sure to file a noise complaint again.

Within seconds, Ran is cumming, too, spilling so deeply inside me. He slows to a stop, his cock still buried inside my pussy. His breathing is heavy and the way he’s looking at me can only be described as love in its highest form.

“Maybe you should start being a brat more often if it’s going to result in some of the most mind-blowing sex I’ve ever had,” He jokes, pulling out of me to rest on the bed next to me.

“Well then maybe you should start wearing that compression shirt around me more often if you wanna get lucky.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

if you want to use me, i could be your puppet

for @subeddieweek day four with the prompt edging

rated e | 2,505 words | please check ao3 for tags

Day one:  ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr Day three: ao3 | tumblr

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Eddie didn’t think this through.

Running from Steve’s bedroom, naked, meant he would have to find a hiding place.

He did not want to have to deal with this right now.

He didn’t need Steve seeing the way Eddie’s feelings would no doubt show on his face, how he’d be quick to brush off Steve’s apology.

How quickly he’d agree to continuing what they’re doing so he had something rather than nothing at all.

The house was quiet, dark, a reminder of how lonely Steve probably was when he wasn’t busy with the kids or Robin or him. No wonder he was always so quick to jump in bed with Eddie; He wanted a warm body to keep him company.

“Eddie! Wait!” Steve’s voice came from the top of the stairs, but Eddie didn’t turn.

Maybe if he locked himself in the downstairs bathroom, Steve would give up and he could sneak out to his van wrapped in a towel or something. He’d done worse.

Unfortunately, Steve was much faster than him, probably due to the whole jock thing. Eddie had no chance.

Steve’s hand burned where it touched Eddie’s arm, trying to make him turn around and face him.

“Please, Eds. Please look at me. Let me-”

“I don’t want you to explain, Steve.” Eddie turned to him, suddenly angry. How dare he ruin what they were doing? How dare he take something that was so precious and send it careening off the road so quickly? “I want to pretend it never happened. I want to go back to letting you touch me and kiss me and hurt me just right. I want to know you don’t mean it.”

“Why?” Steve sounded angry. “Why would you want that? Is it that bad? What is it about me loving someone that makes them wanna run in any other fucking direction than to me?”

And Eddie wasn’t really prepared for that.

He didn’t really know exactly what happened with Nancy or any of the other girls Steve had been with in high school. He didn’t really know much about any of his casual hookups. He just knew that Steve gave so much to anyone he cared about, and many people took more than was fair of him to give.

“Why can’t I love you, Eddie?”

Eddie looked at Steve, really looked at him.

His eyes were watery, red-rimmed as if he was doing everything he could to resist letting the tears fall. Eddie could see his flush cheeks, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to hold back a sob. His hands shook.

Eddie recognized this for what it actually was. Sure it was emotion, and maybe Steve felt it was genuine emotional turmoil.

But it was also the start of a panic attack, one that would quickly escalate to something Eddie wasn’t sure he could help Steve through.

“Steve, hey-”

“Don’t fuckin’ pacify me, man.” Steve’s breathing picked up and Eddie had to shut this down. “I can be upset.”

“Yes, you absolutely can. I’m not gonna tell you how to feel, but you definitely need to breathe, nice and slow.” Eddie put his hand on Steve’s bare chest, forgetting for a moment that they were both still naked, both still sweaty and sticky from everything they did in Steve’s bed.

“I am breathing.”

“You’re panting. You need to sit down.”

“I’m not sitting down-”

“Red.”

Steve froze.

Eddie immediately regretted saying it, hated that he was using this in a situation outside of their agreement.

He just needed Steve to stop and take care of himself for a second.

“That’s not fair,” Steve’s voice was shaky, unsure. He’d never heard it like that, not even when they first started this, not when they discussed the difficult things.

“It may not be fair, but neither is what you said.” Eddie looked behind him at the couch, the same couch Steve had held his hand while they talked about what they’d be into trying together. “Can we sit?”

“I dunno, are you gonna run again?” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, which would be a hilarious image any other time, but was currently just really sad.

“No. I’m not gonna leave.”

“Yet.”

“Yet,” Eddie agreed.

They both sat down on the couch, shifting until there was enough distance not to touch, facing each other.

Steve threw the blanket over their laps to at least make an attempt at being serious.

“I’m sorry I said it like that.” Steve sighed as he put his head back against the couch. At least he seemed to be holding himself together better now. Maybe Eddie could have a turn at a breakdown. “I shouldn’t have said it when we were still…”

“You shouldn’t have said it at all, Steve.” Eddie watched as Steve ground his teeth together. “I know you may think that’s what you’re feeling, but you were on a sex high.”

“I can see why you’d think that,” Steve sounded like he was doing his best to stay calm. “That’s why I shouldn’t have said it then. But I did mean it. That hasn’t changed and it won’t change.”

“Steve, be serious.”

“I am! I need you to be serious! I love you. I’ve loved you for long enough to know that’s what it is.” Steve turned his head and gave him a sad smile. “I know it wasn’t supposed to happen, and I know you don’t feel the same, but I’m glad I said it, even if it wasn’t how I planned to.”

Eddie had to remind himself to breathe as Steve’s words sank into his brain, consumed his chest and stomach, made the nerves in his body spark with a combination of hope and fear.

“How long?” Eddie squeaked out.

“You remember that night when we talked about our limits?” Steve grinned.

“That was…so long ago. What the hell?” Eddie slapped Steve’s knee, but didn’t pull it away fast enough. Steve’s hand grabbed his. “We’ve been around each other almost every day since then.”

“And I thought about it every day,” Steve admitted. “I was gonna ask you on a date first and make it a big romantic thing. I had a plan.”

“Steve, I-” Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to say these things to me to keep me around. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s lining up at my door. I wouldn’t trust anyone the way I trust you with all this. I kinda figured you’d be the one to call it off soon.”

Steve moved the blanket for a moment, tugged Eddie into his lap, and tilted his head to the side.

“I’m not going anywhere, Eds. You’ve got me and I’ve got you.”

How did he do that? How did he sound so sincere, so charming, after such an emotional admission?

“You’ve got me?”

“I’ve got you,” Steve surged forward, lips crashing against Eddie’s as his hands left bruises on his hips.

Eddie would be an idiot to let him go.

He would have to trust that Steve meant it, and he’d have to trust that his heart would be safe in Steve’s hands.

He already trusted him with everything else.

The blanket that had barely been around his waist slipped, half pooling on the couch next to them and half falling to the floor.

Steve pulled away, breathless.

“Will you?” He asked.

Eddie had no idea what he was actually asking. “Will I…?”

“Go on a date with me.”

“Yeah, Stevie. I’ll go on a date with you. You’re buying, though,” Eddie winked.

“Of course,” Steve nodded, leaning up to peck him on the lips. “I was thinking about a road trip. Heard there’s a new record shop opening in Bloomington if you wanted to check it out.”

“Fuck, you really do love me, don’t you? You know I could spend hours in there, right?” Eddie’s heart couldn’t handle the soft look in Steve’s eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll bring a cooler with drinks and snacks. It’ll be fun,” Steve shrugged.

Eddie inched back the tiniest bit and was suddenly reminded that they were very naked. And Steve was getting hard again.

“You know…this house is kinda quiet. Maybe we could…”

“Oh, you wanna be loud?” Steve raised his brow. “Hm. I guess I should give you a reason to be.”

The tone was different, not quite his usual teasing demand, but something that left Eddie wanting.

“Please. God, Steve, I need it, need you,” Eddie had no idea where this begging came from, or why he suddenly felt like he would die without Steve’s hands on him.

“I know what you need, baby,” Steve kissed his jaw, soft for what Eddie knew was coming. “But I need you to tell me your color first.”

“Green, so green.”

“Hey.” There was the demanding tone. “Look at me.”

Eddie had no choice but to look.

“I need you to think about it. Don’t think about how desperate you are. Are you okay with everything we talked about? Are you okay with me loving you?”

Eddie thought about it. Was he actually okay with their short conversation, the feelings Steve admitted to, what that would mean going forward for them? Or was he desperate in more ways than one?

No, no he definitely was okay with this. He’d been so worried that his feelings would never be returned, that he’d be in an endless loop of unrequited love, that he’d do what Steve did and let it slip while he was in space.

Having the guy he loved love him back was a best case scenario for him.

“Green.”

Steve’s lips were back on his, hungry, rough, almost more than Eddie was prepared for, but it wasn’t unwelcome. He sunk into the feeling, let himself drift into Steve physically so he could carry him away mentally.

“Wanna get my fingers in you. Think you can handle just spit?” Steve said as he nipped at Eddie’s neck, leaving red, leaving teeth marks. Eddie wished they could be permanent. Maybe he’d get them tattooed.

“Mhm, please,” Eddie nodded, ignoring the tiny part of his brain that was telling him to be responsible and get the lube. He’d be sore if they didn’t.

The louder part of his brain didn’t care about that, wanted to be sore. He could feel good now and deal with the limp tomorrow.

Steve’s fingers ghosted over Eddie’s lips, pressing down until his mouth opened. He sucked them in, three of them, moaning around them as he made sure they were slick enough to get inside with little resistance.

They were both impatient.

Steve pulled his fingers from Eddie’s mouth only a few seconds later, gently patting his cheek with his other hand when he whined at the loss.

“You’ll have me inside you again, baby.”

Steve didn’t waste another second.

His wet fingers rubbed against Eddie’s entrance, fingertips teasing along his rim and just barely pushing inside one at a time.

It was too much, not nearly enough, and almost exactly what Eddie needed all at once.

He was so close already, teetering on the edge of coming without a hand on him or fingers actually inside him, and it would probably be embarrassing if Eddie could think about a single thing that wasn’t the way heat was pooling in his stomach and chest.

“Close,” Eddie whimpered, bucking up against nothing as if that was even necessary.

Steve’s hands were gone. Just like that. No warning at all.

Eddie whimpered again, reaching his hands out to touch, to beg, to do whatever would get Steve’s hands back on him and finish the job he started.

“No, baby,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Not yet.”

And so it went.

Steve got a finger inside him, barely thrusting it in and out before removing it completely when Eddie would start rocking back into the touch.

Then there were two fingers, and Eddie could just barely feel the pressure against his prostate, begging for more or less or something that would be different from the current hanging by a thread he was doing.

He could feel himself drifting, knew he was mentally checking out from what was happening, but he could still hear Steve’s rough voice soothing him, guiding him.

Three fingers pressed inside him, slower than before, stretching him in a way he never could himself.

He felt full, used.

“Color, sweet boy,” Steve said from somewhere in front of him. Eddie was having trouble centering himself, couldn’t quite figure out where he was physically even though he knew he was with Steve.

The fingers inside him stilled, not working him open further or pushing and pulling until Eddie was naturally rocking back and forth.

Steve needed an answer. Eddie had to give him one.

“Green.”

“Good boy,” Steve praised.

Eddie pretended that didn’t make his heart flip-flop in his chest, but something must have given him away anyway. Steve was grinning at him knowingly, though he didn’t say anything.

“You’re gonna come when I tell you, right? Not a second earlier than that.”

At this point, Eddie was pretty sure Steve was in complete control of his body. He was simply the puppet on Steve’s strings.

“Answer me, Eddie.” Steve pushed against his prostate, making his body shiver and cock twitch.

“Only when you say,” Eddie gasped out, lifting his hips to pull away from the overstimulation, but immediately falling back down when he missed it. “Wanna be good for you.”

Steve groaned, and his fingers pushed in and out of Eddie faster.

He wanted to be good, but he was only human.

“St-” Eddie moaned. “-eve. Can’t-”

“‘S okay, baby. You can come now.”

And Eddie did.

Just like that.

The relief of finally being able to unclench his thighs, to actually feel the last string tethering him to earth snap as his release painted Steve’s stomach.

His fingers slowed, but didn’t leave him, keeping him stretched as he clenched around them during the waves of pleasure still wringing through him. He felt like he’d never stop feeling this deep pulsing, had to try to open his eyes to see if he was still coming somehow.

Steve was murmuring something against his hair.

When had he even fallen against Steve’s chest, face buried in his neck?

How long had he been just whimpering against him like a dog in heat?

“...So good for me, sweet boy. So proud of you for waiting for permission.”

Oh.

Praise like that wasn’t exactly a new part of their aftercare, but it was rare that Steve said it more than once or twice, usually just holding him in his arms in silence while Eddie came back down from the clouds.

He’d think about that later.

For now, he let his body relax, the noises stop, and his breathing slow.

He could sleep in Steve’s arms, feel the love pouring from his words and fingertips, and plant his feet on the ground in the morning.

Day five: ao3 | tumblr

[cosmal]

𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 — 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

note — this is for @sparklingsin spookinktober!! it was queued to be posted on halloween but tumblr deleted it!! so I had to rewrite it :((( so I'm sorry that this is so late and so terrible!! I tried my best to rewrite it like it was fr. i do genuinely hate this now, i’m sorry.

summary — eddie comes back after a week and sees you in your angel costume. he has to fuck you right then and there.

warnings/tags — fem!afab!reader, she/her pronouns, smut, mdni, piv, fingering, needy!reader

wc — 1.8k

“Steve, have you seen Eddie yet?” You stand on your tiptoes to get closer to his face, leaning over the breakfast bar that separates the two of you. 

Steve probably yells too eagerly. The music is loud, but you’re not exactly far away, “Y/N like I said fifteen minutes ago, he’ll be here at 9 o’clock.” 

“What’s the time?” You laugh. Winding Steve up is always fun. 

Steve sighs like he’s annoyed. You know he’s really not, “8:45.” 

“Awesome. I’m gonna go sit on the couch until he gets here.” You tell him before spinning on your heels. The feathers of your angel wings tickle his face as you turn and Steve wrinkles his nose. 

“I’m sure you will, Y/N!” he calls before you turn the corner. 

And you do exactly that. You’ve waited for Eddie to get back all week, what’s fifteen more minutes? By the time Eddie arrives, the wiry angel wings on your back have grown a little itchy. You’d take them off if you weren’t excited to show Eddie your costume. 

Picking at a loose thread on your frilly, white skirt, you don’t even notice the pair of knees in ripped, black denim, hovering over your own. Eddie leans forward to nudge your leg with his and you startle. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Eddie does that signature smile of his, it almost fries your brain and you forget to react. 

“Oh my god, Eds!” It’s a blur of feathers when you leap from the small couch. Pushing your arms over his shoulders and leaning your whole weight into him. He almost topples when he wraps his own arms around your back. “Eddie,” 

Eddie’s mouth finds its home in the juncture of your neck like it always does, breathing in your lost scene and pressing his lips to your skin. “Y/N.”

He pulls away, but not before you give him one last squeeze, holding you out at arm's length. “God, baby. You look so fucking hot,” he groans. 

You turn your hips until your skirt swishes, “You think?” 

Eddie reaches around to fiddle with one of the feathers, smoothing it out between his thumb and pointer. “Shit, yeah.”

“Where’s your costume?” you ask, poking him in the chest until he rocks on the balls of his feet. Heavy boots thump along with the bass of the music. 

“I’m in it,” he laughs. 

“Yeah?” 

Eddie swishes like you did but the only thing that moves is his leather jacket that stiffly flaps around his waist, “Yeah. Your boyfriend.”

You roll your eyes like you’re actually not amused by his answer, “You wear that every day.” 

“Well, you haven’t seen me in it for an entire week.” He leans in to peck your cheek. Twice for good measure. You grasp his jacket in firm hands and hold him close.

You hum, “Yeah. Missed you.” 

Eddie leans in again to snake his arms around to give your ass a squeeze, bunching your skirt in his hands. You’ve forgotten where you are for a moment when he says, “Wanna show me how much you missed me?” 

Pretending to act like you don’t want Eddie more than anything at this moment would be harder than telling him exactly what you want — so you don’t. You run a hand down his chest, over the cotton of his shirt, feeling the bumps and divots tentatively until your reach his waist. Hooking a finger around a belt loop to tug him closer. 

“I think I do.” you smile. 

Eddie groans, “Shit,” 

You can’t even pretend to be surprised at how quickly it takes Eddie to drag you to the nearest bathroom. His insatiable need has you giggling the entire way there. Pushing through strangers and ignoring the pointed look Robin shoots you from the bottom of the stairs.

Once you’re inside, Eddie fumbles with the lock on the door while you tug at his free arm, “C’mon, Eds,” you whine.

Eddie cheers when he gets the door to lock, turning to lift you up and onto the basin. The ceramics are cold where it touches the bare skin on your legs and you gasp. Eddie is quick to catch any noise with his mouth when he leans in to kiss you.

“Fuck,” kiss, “angel,” kiss, “you look so hot.”

Your laughter peels from within you and you’re huffing into his mouth, “I thought I was the one who was supposed to be showing you how much I missed you.”

He pulls away to lift your skirt up so it pools around your waist, tugging your panties down until they stretch over your knees, “Just sit there looking all pretty, that’s enough for me, baby.”

Eddie lets you do as you please, placing a firm grip to stable yourself on his shoulders when he traces the tip of his finger up your slit. Grazing down to your entrance to gather the slick that’s already begun to pool on the counter.

“So messy,” he coos, exploring with his finger to push through your pudgy folds, “Missed this pussy, angel.” 

You lean forward to press the top of your head into his shoulder, wrapping a hand around his bicep. When he finally slips a finger inside you, you let out the tiniest gasp and your hand tightens in its grip until the leather of his jacket squeaks. 

You angle your head up to leave a line of lazy kisses along his neck. Your hot breath and tiny gasps are a whisper against Eddie’s skin. He pushes a second finger in, now middle and marriage, and you hiccup against his skin. Eddie pushes in further, determined to get you to make more pretty noises that get him all worked up. 

“Eds,” you pant uselessly. More tiny gasps. 

“Y/N,” he almost mocks, exploring deeper inside your weeping hole. Slick traces down his palm and threatens to dirty his sleeve. If Eddie has ever cared about that, he’s never shown it. 

You rock your hips against the bench to try and get closer to his hand, his palm pushing into your clit. The stickiness of his thumb and pinky thudding against your skin echo in the tiny bathroom. 

Eddie can sense your neediness, “Slow down, baby.” 

You grip the hair around the base of his neck which only causes him to groan out. “Need,” you pant. 

“What d‘you need, hmm?” Eddie asks, pulling back to check you over. Using his free hand to brush the hair from your eyes. You blink at him slowly. 

“Fuck me, Eddie. Please.” Your eyes are terribly pleading and Eddie stills, deep-seated inside you. “Missed you- need you, Eds.” 

Eddie can see you working yourself up and kisses you on the highest part of your cheek. Pulling his hand from you he says, “Yeah? Need my cock?” 

“Please.” 

“You’re so, very polite,” he coos.

There’s a metal zzz of his zipper unravelling and the shushing of his jeans being pushed down just below his ass, before he’s tugging at his cock with familiarity. A familiarity that has your stomach aching. 

Eddie wraps his wet hand around the fat of your thigh to tug you closer to the edge of the basin and you yelp, bracing yourself on his chest. 

Once you’re close enough, the ruddy tip of his cock presses into your clit and you jolt, head lulling into the juncture of his neck. Eddie wraps his arms around your back and holds you close, dotting kisses over your clavicle. His teeth scrape and nip playfully until goosebumps raise your skin. 

“Ready?” he asks as he runs his cock down your slit to line up with your entrance. 

“Uh-“ you stutter, wrapping your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together, “Uh-huh.” 

Eddie sinks in and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. “That’s it,” he groans, breath trembling, “Fuck.”

You squeeze him closer like it’s possible and gasp when the air is forced from your lungs at the proximity. Your hands tremble around stiff leather and your hips ache when he rocks in to the hilt. Filling you completely. 

“Ah — Eddie,” you gasp, harder when he’s rocking in stronger. 

Eddie starts to move, slow and tentatively, rolling his hips into your wet heat. Spreading your legs further apart and your underwear slips down onto the floor.

“Please,” you plead, “harder.” You dig your knees into his side. 

Eddie grips your thigh to hold it up and closer to him and when he feels as if he’s not hitting the right angle, he hooks his arms under both of your legs to lift you from the counter. 

Gasping, you sink down onto him, keeping your arms and ankles hooked around his body. 

Eddie moves to grasp at your ass, squeezing fat between his fingers to keep you upright. Lifting you up and you help him settle back down until you find a perfect rhythm. 

“So,” Eddie grunts, hard to be heard over the sounds of skin slapping and your pitched-up moans. You’re also lucky the music outside is loud enough to muffle anything. “so wet, sweetheart.” 

You hum what sounds like an uh-huh, trying your best to meet his movements. Eddie’s grip is tight and it stings. Pain turns to pleasure when he starts to hit the spongy spot deep inside you. 

Eddie’s doing his best to fuck you onto him. Especially when your pelvis burns and your arms ache, going limp against his frame. 

His grunts mix in with your Ah ah ah’s, Eddie has no free hands to smother your noises so he plants his lips to yours, catching any sounds. 

“Eddie,” you say against his lips, hot and wet, “M’gonna…” 

“Cum f’me, baby,” he says, speeding up. 

When he’s repeatedly hitting your sweet spot at the perfect rhythm, the coil in your core snaps, bleeding through your abdomen until you’re clamping around Eddie—tensing up in his hold. 

Weak and panty, Eddie throws you back down to the basin, hips stuttering inside you. 

“Fuck, where can I?” 

“Inside,” you say. No, beg. 

“You sure?” he groans. 

You nod your head, clamping your twitching walls around him and that’s all it takes. Dragging, now slowly through your gummy heat, his own cum sobbing from your hole when he’s finished. 

He’s pulling out, slowly when he watches your face crumple, keeping your legs hooked around his sides. Placing a wet kiss against your damp hairline, he says, “That was amazing- You’re amazing.” 

“I know,” you grin, resting your legs down until your knees click. 

“Mmm,” he kisses you again, “M’never leaving for that long, ever again.” 

“Never,” you agree. 

There’s a beat, that’s not very silent, filled with the party that’s still thrumming. Loud chants and chatter fill the bathroom from the crack under the door. 

“We should really go home,” he says. 

“I think so,” you hum, “I think I heard about ten people knocking on the door.”

“Shit,” Eddie snorts. 

“Shit.”

[sidneypoindexter]

man i love fakeposting what if smurfs had tumblr

0 notes

👓 spectacledsavant Follow

Thank you for being my 31st follower, @hotsexylove72848!

#my brilliant words

2 notes

🌾 farmersmurf Follow

54 notes

🌹 rose-garden Follow

i am simply. pining. yearning. smurfing. when will i have a husband who loves me and who i can love back in equal measure...

#smurf.txt #im too young to marry and boys always seem to love so much more intensely than i do #but i just really wish i could find somesmurf who i can love as much as they love me

1,100 notes

😠 i-hate-usernames Follow

I hate Tumblr.

#I hate tagging.

1,688 notes

💤 slepytime Follow

Life fucking sucks sowmtimes like hwow am i supposed to explain to papa smurf that i want to do work but im too damn tired

#please im so sleepy #im trying so hard

4 notes

🐝 beefanatic33 Follow

Sorry for being inactive these past few days, a family member passed away and I've been grieving.

🔁 prettyasapixie Follow

My condolences, darling! I know how difficult it can be to lose someone close to you. Y'all Smurfs are especially close with each other, too... I hope you're doing okay.

🔁 beefanatic33 Follow

Yeah, I'm smurfing as well as I can. Mary-Anne was a very special bee, and I don't know what I'm going to do without her.

#honey speaks

218 notes

👓 spectacledsavant Follow

I've seen several people on this website confused about the way I smurf, so I thought I'd give a lesson in Smurfic grammar.

Smurf is a language characterized by the usage of the word "smurf." For me, and other Smurfs, it's a psychosmurfical compulsion we can't control- only Papa Smurf has been able to smurf himself to speak in a way understandable to non-Smurfs, and hems had many centuries to learn.

When you speak Smurf, you smurf every so often- within certain grammar rules. Any past participle smurfed with "to smurf" takes an "ed" in the past tense. Smurf can also be used to resmurf a noun, but only one noun in a compound word, and you must keep the prefix and suffix.

For instance, bottle-opener could be smurfed into "smurf-opener" or "bottle-smurfer"- I, personally, prefer bottle-smurfer- but never "bottle-smurf."

Positive adjectives are "smurfy," negative ones are "unsmurfy," but "smurfy" and "unsmurfy" are also words on their own. If you smurf an adverb, that’s "smurfily" or "unsmurfily." If something is better than something else, it would be smurfed "smurfier," and not "smurfer."

These rules are invariable, except in cases of euphony.

More below the cut.

Keep reading

🔁 quartzyy Follow

hey brainy wanna hang out tomorrow. we can go on a picnic

3 notes

🌸 thefairestintheland Follow

looking amazing yet again today, so here's a selfie.

#my face

3,278 notes

[dsm--v]

ok this post probably won’t make sense to a lot of you but.

pinterest culture…?

i’m not talking about the, like, recipes side of pinterest, or the aesthetic photos side of pinterest. i’m talking about the pretty specific subsection of like, tumblr screenshots and badly edited facebook memes, and mentally ill gay teenagers. i myself, am on this side of pinterest, i’ll admit.

there’s some, like, niche pinterest micro celebrities, for example, pickle man, erm what the frick, johnny the mommy, etc etc. whenever they’re seen in a comment section, there’s at least one person saying “omg you’re everywhere!1!!11”

another example, pinterest commenters are special. there’s like…inside jokes, just like on tumblr, but..idk

here’s an example:

(some kind of weird/oddly horny post)

person a: let’s remember our digital footprint guys !

(replying) person b: foot 🤤

(replying to b) person c: i have feelings for you

—

you can probably find that exact thread if you just look through the comments a bit. now, this type of thing is fine, of course, we all love inside jokes.

but, starting off as a pinterest kid, that became like, ingrained in my brain, so whenever im on tumblr my immediate reaction is to say shit like, “i want you” “i have a crush on you” instead of just “what”.

another thing, pinterest fucking sucks. and everyone on there (the gay side of pinterest, i mean) knows it. the ui sucks, especially on the browser version, the dms hardly work, and pins just disappear sometimes. lots of brands (i guess?) will take like ‘memes’ and upload it to pinterest, to get people to click, and take them to some shitty article. this leads to, fuckin idk, a picture of some tumblr post with the ifunny logo, and the title of the pin is like Top Ten Ways Wives Aren’t Satisfying Their Husbands.

pinterest hate culture, is also very interesting. for example, if you mention, say, ed sheeran, or look for ed sheeran pins, it’s so. much. hate. and then there’s troll/bait accounts, that exclusively make posts going against the grain so they’ll get attention. because there’s another thing, pinterest users fucking suck at ignoring bait. the boyfriends comic (? i think it’s called that) has so much hate on there. i’ve never even read it but i know so much from people talking about how shit it is. those pinterest kids are crazy, they talk to the obvious bait accs and tell them to “sayori challenge” (video game character that took her own life). i could go into the mogai/xenogender discourse but that’s a whole other post.

so. pinterest. it’s crazy.

why’d i write all this but i can’t write one fucking science paper oh my god.

[izzyshandz]

I swear if i see one more mf say izzy has been 'redeemed' or needed a 'redemption arc' im literally going to scream into my pillow until i lose my voice.

redeem is such a black and white way of looking at his entire character and dismisses everything hes gone through and yall (izzy haters and others) are just so fucking snob nosed and ignorant to sit there and think hes a villain because of how he acted. theyre fucking pirates. theyre not perfect, none of them are. eds a villain, stedes a villain, if youre doing it like that. ed has killed so many people, stede literally left his wife and kids and also had a hand in killing people; it may be easier for them to change because of the perspective the show gives them and they had love but izzy did not. everyone hated him, ed, his own crew, stedes crew.

normalizing peoples reactions to things as something other than villainy and heroism is so god damn important in a show that's trying to accurately involve our perspectives in this day and age. its a tale as old as time, making someone 'completely in the wrong' because their perspective isnt the one you aligned with as much.

like the rest of the crew izzy had his own bad things hes done, he didnt need this 'redemption' everyones blabbering on about. he needed to be fucking heard, to be seen, and acknowledged-- not thrown aside and abandoned because of a whim. you all can ride up blackbeards ass because oh hes so hot, hes so pretty omg wow; but that wont ever change the fact his character is a fucked up person... youre allowed to love him anyways, why not izzy? we didnt see blackbeard before screen but how hes mentioned it shows he was a shit awful person, the only reason no one cares is because on hes fuckin gay for stede or whatever so the main characters get a free ride. ( i agree they all get a free ride, im just tired of this izzy isolation man )

why does he need to be redeemed in your eyes? just because youve seen what hes done? he was literally a product of his environment in season one he was a product of blackbeard's leadership. only with the loyalty and solidarity of the crew did he really begin to find himself, thats fucking hard to do that late in life. instead of calling it some bullshit black and white redemption arc, lets just celebrate izzy being himself and being fucking loved for once in his god damn life.

hes also way more fucking mature and put together than people give him credit for. love you izzy.

edit: thank you all for the reblogs and insights in every single one, i read them i promise i do. im just so mf heartbroken we have to tag things as discourse when its really just about people not being compassionate. (as a couple people have pointed out) i will said id reblog and comment on every single tag but this is my side </3 EVERYONE PLEASE READ THE REBLOGGED TAGS TOO / / theyre so real ! ive also opened up that ask box thingy i havent been on tumblr in yrs and have 0 clue how any of that works if anyone wants my perspective on anything izzy related. *or otherwise ofmd related

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse part 12

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve. On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3 FYI, I’ve basically imagined that Dustin and Suzie are roughly the same age as the others in this, so in their late teens and early twenties…

Chapter 12: reality check

Five Days later

Steve picked up the phone and dialled Eddie’s number. It rang twice, before the answerphone stabbed him with the same old jack-knife in the gut:

“Hi! This is Suzie.”

“And this is Dustin.”

“We’re not around right now—

“—or we’re having our downtime, together or apart, which is super important to us—” 

Jesus Christ, kill me already.

Steve had heard this message a dozen times. Dustin and Suzie sounded so goddamn chirpy, like they were going to explode into song. And Steve had endured waaaaay too many chirpy songs the last few nights, courtesy of Robin’s mom’s cassette deck.

He endured the rest of their nail-scapingly annoying message and braced himself for the Ding!

“Hi, this is Steve. Again. Look, I really need to talk to Ed—”

“Answerphone tape full,” recited an electronic voice, the polar-opposite of chirpy.

“Fuck!” Steve slammed down the receiver. 

Why wasn’t Eddie returning his calls?

Okay, Steve had been sleeping a ton the past few days, might’ve missed something. Robin’s leave was over today, and her mom worked really long shifts…

A muffled meeeeow had him looking up sharpish. Resident cat, Fernando, glared at him through the window.

“All right, I’m sorry I stole your couch. I don’t hate you, it’s your fur that hates me. Way to go making me feel even shittier about it.”

He glared back. Trouble was, this was Fernando’s home, not his. Robin had technically moved out last year, and he’d barely got a nickel to slot into the housekeeping kitty.

He was gonna have to sell his watch. Or the guitar. Dammit, he’d wanted to check in with Eddie first, but what choice did he have?

He leafed through the telephone directory for music stores, scraped together some loose change, and caught a bus across the city. On the journey, he missed his old Sony Walkman as never before. Thanks to Robin’s mom, ‘Mamma Mia’ by Abba ear-wormed through his brain. Uuuuuuurgh! He  hugged the glittery guitar case tightly and attempted to pep himself up.

Eddie said he was crazy about Steve. Steve sure as heck felt the same. 

“Yes, I’ve been broken-hearted, blue since the day we parted. Why, why did I ever let you go?”

“Shut the hell up, Agnetha,” he muttered, earning himself a scathing glance from a woman sitting close. But Steve hadn’t been broken-hearted when he left the hotel. He’d been scared shitless over that fact he was losing his memory as well as his mind. He still was. His future with Eddie had been the one thing he’d felt faintly optimistic about, and… 

“Look at me now, will I ever learn?”

No. No way. Eddie was a good person. Yeah, Robin had passed hours bad-mouthing him. No matter. Steve believed in Eddie. Well, he desperately wanted to. He was getting really worried about him—about whether he’d really been ‘cured’ of his agoraphobia, and about his overly sass-tastic and curiously absent friends. 

He missed him so much. Christ, it hurt.

In ‘Jivin’ Jams,’ Steve laid the guitar case on the counter and opened it. The store-owner’s brows shot sky high: “Where did you get this, son?”

“A friend gave it me,” said Steve. “There was a rumor it once belonged to Jimi Hendrix or something.” 

The guy stared at him, mega-intense, which Steve took to be a positive sign. Maybe he should play hardball, get competing offers from a bunch of stores.

“I’m looking for at least two-thousand bucks,” he ventured.

“I got some catalogues out back that should help me figure out what it’s worth. Gimme a tick.”

Steve shrugged. “Sure.”

The dude vanished. Steve waited, grinning when a track he knew—‘Friday I’m in love,” by The Cure—drowned out the Abba hell-loop in his head. He remembered this one. Yeah, he’d been flat on his back on that honking great bed, with his ankles looped around Eddie’s neck. While merrily fucking Steve, Eddie had sung along like an idiot:

“Monday, you can hold your head, Tuesday, Wednesday, stay in bed, Or Thursday, watch the walls instead, It's Friday, I'm in love…”

Christ, he missed Eddie’s dumbass ‘o’ face. He missed how Eddie always needed him to come too, loving it when Steve squirted across those lick-tastic tatts. Yeah, he missed… so much. If he got a decent amount for the guitar, maybe he and Eddie could rent a place together. Get back to fucking every day of the week…

He was still daydreaming, smirking vaguely, when the two policemen walked in. 

“I didn’t know it was stolen!” protested Steve. The son-of-a-bitch store-owner handed the guitar over the counter to one of the cops.

“Where d’you get it then?” asked the other.

“A friend gave it to me.” Steve’s legs started to feel wibbly.

“This friend got a name?”

Steve bit hard into his bottom lip.

“You think on it, and tell us when we get to the precinct, huh?” 

They took his knapsack and turned out his pockets. When the handcuffs came out, the bubble of panic in his windpipe ballooned.

“I didn’t know it was stolen,” he repeated, sort of on autopilot. They cuffed him anyway. Outside the store, the cool air smarted against his burning skin. “C-crap. No, please! Look… I… I didn’t know!”

He was guided into the back of their patrol vehicle and the door slammed shut. He shut his eyes, rested his head back, and battled his instinct to struggle against the cuffs.

OH MY GOD, EDDIE! YOU REALLY WERE TAKEN FOR A CHUMP!  

Unless he knew it was stolen? No. No way, no way. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. Okay… breathe. Keep calm, right? Shiiiiit! 

Steve had been picked up by the police once before. It’d been soon after he’d run from that man, when he was on the streets, and… Nope, nope, NOPE.

His mind grew as clammed up as his body. Which was probably how, breathing fast and shallow, he survived the short journey to the precinct. Still kinda dazed, he was uncuffed and processed. His rescue inhaler, which had been in his pack, was handed back to him. For the first time in a while, he managed to form a coherent sentence: “I need to make a phone call.”

As he was shown to the booth, his worries swerved off in a whole new direction. Dammit, he still didn’t know Robin’s number. He could try calling the hotel, see if he could get a message to her, but…

His unsteady fingers dialled the one number that’d etched itself into his heart. He knew it was gonna go to that ‘answerphone full’ message.

Shit, you are not gonna cry, Harrington, or you’re gonna be eaten alive.

“Hello, this is Suzie.”

“Oh Jesus Christ!”

“No, I’m afraid I’m not Him. This is Suzie Henderson. To whom am I speaking?”

“It’s Steve.” He swiped his knuckles across his cheekbones. “I’m, uh… um… Eddie’s friend. Is he there?”

“No, we don’t know where he is. We’re really worried.” She sure sounded less chirpy than in her message. “I thought Dusty tried to call you back. Have you heard from Eddie?”

“N-no, no. Oh my God. Oh my God, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.”

“You seem distressed, Steve. Can I help?”

What choice did he have? He poured out his story, including how Eddie gave him the guitar he was accused of fencing, right till the call randomly cut off.

…

In the interview room, a tired-looking cop dumped a worryingly thick file between them.

“It’s a simple question, kid. Tell us how you came into possession of Jimi Hendrix’s guitar, and we can cut you a deal. You sing sweet enough, you could skip all charges.”

Steve chewed his thumbnail, stared at the table: “I got it from a friend.”

“Listen to me. That guitar was stolen during an armed robbery at a house in Brentwood. You already got an arrest record. You don’t talk, you’re looking at some serious time behind bars.”

Steve gawked up at the interviewer, his thumb still half-caught in his mouth. He’d go to the prison for the guy he loved but…

This isn’t happening.

“Whoever you’re covering for, are they worth it? You scared they’re gonna come for you? We can put you in witness protection.”

Scared? Of Eddie? It was almost hilarious, and finally snapped Steve from his clammed-up funk. He giggled nervously.

“You think this is funny, kid? You can laugh your ass off in jail. You wanna recall your friend’s name for me now?”

“I… um…”

Eddie would want you to tell him, you idiot! He can probably help clear this mess up! There is also the teensy weensy possibility he’s skipped town, leaving you holding his seriously problematic baby…

“Look, I’m not exactly sure where he—“

The door flew wide and a young woman with fashionably frizzy hair and some serious shoulder-pad action stepped in. “Stop the interview. My name’s Nancy Wheeler. I’m Steve’s lawyer and I need a moment alone with my client.”

The interviewer looked mildly pissed then picked up his files and shuffled out.

Steve slumped back in his seat and blinked at his apparent saviour. Beneath the make-up and the power suit, she didn’t look much older than he was. She smiled tightly, pulled a chair around and sat down beside him.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Steve finally found his voice. “I don’t wanna sound ungrateful, but I can’t pay you anything."

“I’m not actually a lawyer,” she hissed, kinda apologetic. “I’m a trainee journalist. Friend of Suzie’s. She’s sort of into law as a hobby, and she’s clued me in on exactly what to say, so… sit tight, keep quiet. We’ll have you out of here in no time.”

…

Nancy did a lot of talking, and Steve eventually found himself leaving the precinct flanked by Nancy and Suzie. Suzie had brought her checkbook to pay Steve’s bail, though in the end, he hadn’t been charged.

He’d lost track of time during his ordeal, and it was past ten pm and dark outside. Before they reached the bottom of the precinct steps, a Volvo drew up, and its internal light switched on. A guy with curly hair and a ‘Vecna’s Doom Quest’ baseball cap wound down the window.

“Get in!” he yelled.

“Love you too, Dusty-bun.” Suzie headed around to the front passenger seat. 

Steve hesitated. “Uh, look, I appreciate the cavalry charge and all, but you’re, like, complete strangers.”

“Get in, Dingus!” Robin had rolled down the backseat window.

“What the heck are you doing here?” He climbed in, and she folded him into a clumsy hug. Nancy climbed in on his other side.

“Are you okay?” asked Robin.

“Jesus, what do you think? I got arrested, and.. I’m so confused.”

Robin launched her story, as Dustin drove off. When she’d discovered Steve AWOL, she’d freaked out. Then she’d called Dustin’s number, which she knew Steve had been trying all week. While garbling madly at each other, she’d learned from Dustin about Steve’s arrest. Dustin, meanwhile, gleaned that Robin had heard from co-workers that day about an incident at the hotel.

The same incident that Dustin, Suzie and Nancy had spent the last few days trying to get to the bottom of.

“What happened at the hotel?” asked Steve.

“We’re not entirely sure,” said Nancy. Steve wasn’t sure why they'd gotten a rookie journalist in tow. So much baffled him right now. “What we do know is that the police have charged Eddie with assault and battery. His disappearing act doesn’t exactly help his case.” 

“What? No way!” Steve couldn’t buy it. Eddie was one of the gentlest guys he’d ever known. Okay, there was that one time he busted his own knuckles, but…

"It's a pretty serious business," Robin was saying. "The only witness was Doreen. She swore that the so-called 'victim’”— Robin spluttered the word out like sour milk—“was blind drunk and walked into a pillar, but the police didn't buy it.”

“We’ve got to find Eddie before the cops do,” chipped in Dustin.

“Yeah, well, LAPD are the least of Eddie’s troubles,” snapped Robin. “I’m gonna gut him over this whole guitar business.”

Too fucking much.

After the rollercoaster of the past few hours, Steve felt basically punch-drunk. He groaned, rubbed his brow, then shaded his eyes from the dazzle of the streetlights. “Please just someone tell me you’ve got a clue where Eddie is.”

“It’s a work in progress,” said Suzie. “He never picked up his ride from the hotel. We’ve exhausted our leads locally, so we’re heading up to Oregon to see his uncle. Wayne won’t talk over the phone—”

“He won’t talk to us, period,” interjected Dustin. “But I think he knows something.”

“We’re going to Oregon?” Steve emerged from beneath his fingers. “Now? The cops told me to not leave town.”

“Dustin said he’d drop us home first,” said Robin. “I’d be delighted to wash my hands of Jon Bon Jovi’s evil stoner cousin for good.”

“He’s not evil.” Steve gave an enormous yawn, then zoned in on the one thing he knew for sure. “I need to find him. You go home, Robin. Fernando will scratch my eyes out if I spend another night on his couch.”

She bitched a bit more, including about how yuck and sweaty he was. Then she refused to leave him. He curled up against her—he couldn’t risk drooling on a complete stranger—and hunkered down for the long drive.

....

Part 13 on Ao3 (tumblr link coming soon!)

promise we’ll get back to Eddie in the next chapter. I needed to get a few more characters into play so we can finally get steddie on their path to healing and HEA… soon (ish!) 

Thank you for reading. Likes, reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3

[farfromcorrect]

WELP! TIME TO FACE THE MUSIC! AGAIN!

The critical community are just as much of fragile, egotistical little snowflakes who cant commit to their principles as much as vivi can (Aka. "we dont hate viv even though we call her a racist pedo transphobe on a routine basis who treats everyone under her like dirt to cynically advance her own career! WERE BEING CONSTRUCTIVE!!! WERE HELPING!!! YAY!!!) and you wonder why i feel like none of you are giving her a single reason to give a single flying fuck about what dirt you have against her. people stopped giving a shit about what you tumblr folks say sense Donald Trump was elected specifically to SPITE you for your fruitless peal clutching that distracts from real bread and better issues that people in the REAL WORLD actually care about.

the bottom line I'm getting at is, sadly, Her fans will defend her no matter what, because thats how idol worship works, putting personality ahead of principles and will double down on their support out of spite and to feel like they are part of something that validates them in a world that neglected them or looked down on them for being outside the neo-liberal overton norm. NO DIFFERENT THAN MAGA IN BOTH SPIRIT AND DEED! and vivziepop is basically a female Donald Trump at this point. letting allegations slide right off her from the sheer force of her no nonsense attitude and sheer charisma.

second, If you people actually studied your bible enough to do your silly rewrites, then you would know that idolatry is a sin for a really good reason and how blind loyalty to any person is basically selling your soul to them and how you are no longer in control of your own actions and judgements at that point. every fandom revolving around a person over the work itself is a cult. some more dangerous than others.

third, people didn't call themselves Tartakovsky or Antonnuci fans back in the days were fandoms were so hyper polarized, they were ed edd n eddy fans and Samurai Jack fans, the personality behind it didn't really matter because there was a great deal of respectable distance between them and us before social media created the scourge of parasociality thats driving both stans and haters batshit insane.

Trying to reason them into leaving will not work, because the deed has been done and they are hooked like any other addict. No different than Angel Dust himself.

The only real way to get vivziepop to care is to go for her bottom line, appealing to peoples better nature is just a naive strategy that doesn't get to the heart of WHY people are so adamant about defending this train-wreck of a show and WHY they feel the need to defend Stolas?

Nope. best to just bang the cancel culture war drums until you can extort concessions from her instead of getting a real job like any shady inner city construction union, as if thats not already getting increasingly old and ineffectual when you have been crying wolf most of the time with nothing to really back up your claims outside screenshots of tweets you dont even have the courtesy of providing hotlinks too just so people can corroborate what you shared outside of screenshots and anecdotes.

At the core of this all i see is the same crab bucket mentality i have been seeing ever sense tumblr became a thing, nothings really changed, and just because the person deserves the hate, doesn't make the way you are going about it any less pathetic and sad in your attempt to tear someone down just so you can cynically elevate yourself in the hegalian dialectic heiarchy of the progressive stack, not because you actually CARE, and i am calling all of you motherfuckers out because i actually DO CARE about the people shes harmed and stepped on to get were she is today.

Believe me, I knew her as far back as her 2012 zoophobia days! she was a petty, egocentric SVA grad snot rag then and she only got worse when she finally got money to her name and i have been waiting for years for other people to finally come forwards and vindicate what i have been warning people about her for a decade and a half, but only now are just beginning to recognize,only for the people to bring it to light being the worst possible people to do it: THE WOKE CROWD who hate everything that moves!! Lo and behold, the law of diminishing returns rears its ugly head to bring the whole woke train to screeching halt as it barrels into reality at top speed.

Well this will probably be my last tumblr post before all you fuckers try to get me banned off tumblr for being one of the only few people left online with the gumption to blow a gaping hole in your echo chamber. But unless we can hold ourselves accountable, then what place at all do we have to hold anyone else accountable for their shit?!

Oh well, it was a good run, see you all in hell! HAHA!

[newts-frogs-toads]

Things I hate about my fandoms

(I will probably make posts about each of them later going more in depth)

⚠️These DO NOT apply to ALL members of these fandoms⚠️

Cartoons:

Miraculous: mischaracterisation of Kagami as a bad person who just want to ruin the love square. But at the same time they love luka because he's just a sweet little baby boy 🥺👉👈

The owl house: Hunter and Ed interacted once and people started shipping them while they complain about Hunter and Willow for having a 1 year age gap. Also people acting like everyone is siblings

Amphibia: they care about the main trio too much to care about any other character at all

Gravity falls: where do i even start

Steven universe: The Su!c!de incident (dont worry she survived)

The ghost and molly mcgee: they hate Ollie for no reason even after his redemption arc for getting in the way of Molly x Libby or Andrea. They say he and molly look like siblings but their eye colors, skin colors and hair colors are different. (Tbh they cant take it when both characters in a pairing are Asian).

Dwampyverse: Too many NSFW art of children

Ducktales: I like them. Nothing bad about them other than they just ignore canon sometimes but hey, so do I.

Hilda: same as the Dwampyverse

Tangled: pretty chill but please dont ship Varian who's 16 with Cass who's 25.

Infinity train: Saying Lake, Ryan and Min aren't queer coded. Like are you blind? Its fine if you don't ship Rymin or use She/her for Lake but remember cartoon network Stopped the creator from putting those in.

Lego monkie kid: pretty ok fandom. Nothing bad to say about them.

She ra: im pretty late to this fandom so I haven't seen anything bad but as a DT megafan the fandom doesn't give them enough attention to them lol

Dead end: too small

Kipo: WAY too small

Live action movies:

Heathers: (see Musicals)

Dead poets society: ITS DYING WE NEED MORE FANWORKS

Games:

Undertale: the needle cookie incident (they're ok now don't worry. Dont take food from strangers kids)

Stardew Valley: Toxic arguing over the Bachelors and Bachelorettes. Acting like Haley and Alex are some irredeemable monsters. like, have you tried befriending them?

Musicals:

Heathers: Acting like Heather McNamara is some sweet little angel. Like no. She is sad and deserves better but that doesn't mean shes nice. (In other words: she is damaged, far to damaged, but that does not make her wise)

Hamilton: the HIV incident (just search Hamilton HIV to know the context). Also harassing anyone who isn't the OG cast.

Ride the cyclone: Acting like the characters are so pure and innocent. Like, im against NSFW of the kids too, but the whole point of Ricky is that hes not so sweet and innocent as a disabled person. Or the whole point of Noel is that he wants to be "fucked up". The tiktok fandom is also super biased to the original cast (meanwhile tumblr loves it)

Six: Saying Jane isn't a powerful woman because she wants to get married and have kids

[nidmightcookies]

Know what I'm sick of? I'm sick of a few fans posting every other fucking day about how some other fans are fandoming wrong, because those fans don't like the same character/in the same way that they do. And somehow it becomes an issue of racism, because fuck if they'll allow stanning of a white guy (funny enough, the only time I've seen race mentioned), not on their fucking watch, nosirree.

And somehow it's the wrong-fandoming-fans' fault that you fine, upstanding citizen fans have to post about this shit AGAIN because it happened AGAIN and you know, I can't remember the last time I saw the outright racist posts in the tags, so I must be curating Tumblr extremely well in that regard (wait... is it ON Tumblr, or is it somewhere else on the internet, but you brought it HERE?), at least. But I still see the regularly scheduled "Fandom was mean again" posts, so. Maybe not that good.

I'm fucking sick of it, and I don't care if this upsets them/you too, so allow me to be specific. I've read too many hypocritical essays on how Izzy fans/Canyon are doing it wrong/never shut up/missing the point/bad people who should feel bad/promoting oppression of insert-group-here (FYI, I belong to some of those groups, so - fucking don't even start it with me) ... yet those essays always have dozens of notes of agreement on them. We all know -ism is bad, we all fucking know that, but I swear some of you act like you're getting points for how many times you point it out.

Judging by the dozens of notes, maybe you are.

I know mine is not going to be the popular opinion, I know I'll get shit, I know you'll dismiss me as a troll, I don't care. I'm not having fun in Tumblr OFMD fandom anymore. You've helped to make it not fun. This constant infighting has got to fucking stop.

As you(generic policing fans) like to point out: it's a SHOW. With characters written/acted to entertain us. Some of them are going to be your favorite, and some of them are not ( I fucking hate Calico Jack, some people love him, that's okay) .

Canyon? Same to you.

Is there another group, non-Ed-non-Izzy, that needs to hear this message? Listen the fuck up:

LIKE WHAT YOU LIKE.

LET PEOPLE LIKE THE SHIT THEY LIKE.

Believe it or not, these two things can be done simultaneously. Stop reading shit into what other people are doing/saying, fucking ignore/block them if they bother you so goddamn much, and get the fuck on with enjoying the fandom the way you want to enjoy it. Let's all just fucking love us some gay pirates. It's what we're all here for.

...and if the way you want to enjoy it, is to ruin other people's enjoyment, then you can just fuck right the hell off. Thank you for your cooperation.

[unolvrs]

— FAQ AND KEEPING UP!

so, i'm alive, and this is honestly long overdue. here, i'll be answering some frequently asked questions (just five because i barely have time for this) along with some rundown of what had happened to me recently, and why exactly i was inactive. and some of the expectations/things i want to change when it comes to this account and my ao3 account because guysss, i'm 20 years old! that's crazy.

as always, this will be obnoxiously organized. if you know me and you've been following me for a while, i hate messily-organized things. (which is hypocritical of me because my tumblr is a mess. tbf, when i started this, i had no idea what was going on.) some trigger warnings to take note of: there will be mentions of SA, p/dophilia, harassment, ED, and so. you can use this as a warning for whatever college experience you'll have.

— keeping up with uno

YOU CAN SKIP THIS PART AND HEAD OVER TO FAQ!

as many of you know, i'm currently in college and now, i'm a—yey. one of the many reasons why i was inactive is because i'm very grade conscious and my first semester in college didn't go over so well because i was adjusting. anyway, my liver is definitely fucked. unfortunately, i've taken to smoking too but not to excess because i don't like doing anything at all to an excess.

that's a brief what's going on in my life and health updates. now you guys know i'm becoming just like my father 😇 but it's fine because i have, in the gpa equivalent, a 3.8 to 3.9, something along that range. so my academics are doing amazing!

but, as some of you may know, i studied in the same school since i was in elementary to high school in a somewhat 'exclusive' school that handpicked students. college opened me to so many people in a horrible way because in a span of barely a year, men have ruined my friends and i's lives.

let's start with the rough part: i keep on seeing these two guys i was once involved with around the campus, each known to have SA'd someone/attempted to have SA'd someone after we were involved. which fucks me up every time because the other guy is apparently still asking about me. crazy. and i have no idea what to do about that so i will simply rest in peace. (to others who may ask about why someone who SA'd someone would still be in a prestigious college and roaming around, they were apparently forgiven by their victim. allegedly. i don't know much.)

and a lot of the men i became friends with in college are elitists, socially unaware, privileged, and lowkey sexists. i'm just astounded. in shock. of course, i met some of the best guy friends in college too, of which i'm very thankful for.

HOWEVER, the worst thing happened a few months ago. my close friend was dating this guy in her college in a rather questionable manner. but that's not the point. anyway, i became close friends with the guy too and we integrated him in our friend group, became really, really close.

but there were red flags, of course. i scolded him often for it. and then my friend began telling me stuff about their relationship and i insisted for her to break up because so many bad things are happening already involving his ex. but she stayed with him still (i won't go to details because they were awful) and then it was revealed right before he moved to another country (they planned to do LDR) that he liked kids. he SA'd his ex multiple times. his alleged 'crazy' ex was a victim. he and his friends are awful human beings. they exchanged cp when they were in high school. large amounts of cp. and you guys don't even wanna know what else happened and for that, i'll keep them to myself.

my friend stayed with him for a month or so, until they broke up; he said she was awful for not realizing he's changed...

anyway, that's the context of my deleted post concerning my friend being a ykw. i have cut him off, blocked him everywhere, and he said he hates me lol. we can't do anything about it as his parents are government and law enforcement-affiliated. another day, another win for the elites.

also, some time before that my ED kicked in again but i'm kind of okay now. i'm mentally healthy atm. i'm doing great in school. i'm going for orgs. i have good friends. 😇 i have cut off smoking and drinking since the 10th of august. i don't think i'm gonna go back to smoking some time soon because my mom has a hound's nose for that. but unfortunately, drinking is part of the experience.

— FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS!

when are you updating frog in a well?

you should've heard the scream i let out just now. i have honestly grown tired of jjk and especially bnha, which i never really got into. jjk sucks now, guys... the constant mischaracterization of the characters by the fans, whatever is going on with sukuna, literally everything. at least nobara is alive.

but i want to finish froggie, honestly. it would be an achievement if i finished froggie and that's only my motivation for it. froggie will be updated whenever. that's basically the answer but i want to finish it, promise.

2. when are you updating rain on my parade?

look, i have 3 chapters on it already. completed. edited. ready to be posted but i just can't. i haven't been writing the past few months and i feel like anything i write is absolutely disgusting and just awful. so i can't post anything and i keep on re-editing everything: the commissions, the other things i've written and are just on stand-by.

3. any wips?

yes, a lot. i have posted a bit of details about them. they will be posted when i stop being insecure about my stuff.

4. what have you been doing recently?

watching lots of movies. i'm a film bro now, a letterboxd type of person. drinking, shopping, contemplating about my future.

5. others.

an advice for you guys in college or going to college, please PLEASE be careful with the people you meet, especially the men. i'm sorry to say but it's better to be careful and use as much connections you have to figure out what kind of person someone is. and just because a person seems nice, doesn't mean they're really nice, guys! the p/do guy called me a SISTER.

anyway, also, i want to change "unolvrs" or "uno". so if you suddenly see my username changing in all platforms, sorry. that's all i have to say. thank you.

i'm very excited to go back to writing. but i have these backlogs:

but i have many completed drafts, including commissions, some done in private and will be posted in private as well. i will no longer be posting any comm on ao3, but will have a gdrive for all of them.

and i'm starting to move past the "i can't update any chapter of other fics unless i update froggie". i've been going through that, which some of you may have noticed as i post chapters in bulks. anyway, that's it, i think.

TLDR;

i went through a lot last year and this year.

i will be changing my username from unolvrs and my penname uno to something else.

some chapters, including comms, will be posted on: SEPTEMBER 27.