#i love this man so goddamn much dude

[katiekatdragon27]

Day 1 of proving I am Goth Teensy’s #1 fan

Was bored so I decided to do a lineup of how he ages through a comic my sibling and I are working on. Rayman: The Fate of the Moons, look out for it >:)

What happens at each stage/ progress photos below:

1-2 He’s a baby. His name was “Gabin” the time but responded better to “Gavin” lol. He had no magical developments, which worried his mom.

3-6 Actively asked people to call him “Gavin”. He was enrolled in the magic school alongside his sister, but ended up doing terribly because of his “lack of good magic”.

7-16 Through a chain of incredibly unfortunate events, he was put in the Livid Dead and left to fend for himself. Luckily, he finds a found family with the fairy of the Livid Dead, the First Nightmare, a teensy doctor, and a Rayman clone. There, he’s just called “Kid”, “Teensy”, and “Buddy” (he doesn’t remember his actual name)

17-/// Being “purified” at the fairy council, he is assigned the Livid Dead Door guard. He would be amazing at his job if he wasn’t so lazy (or trying to fight against the constant urge to drop everything and adventure). Rayman gave him the name “Goth Teensy” for his choice of clothing, and he didn’t object. He goes by Goth permanently now.

Have a lovely day bros, and feel free to ask questions! I love talking about this man :)))))

[spider-man-2o99]

so, then, what IS up with miguel o’hara’s moral backbone?

lol sorry if y’all’re sick of my 2099 soapboxing. anyways.

while i understand where the reading of “miguel is a morally bankrupt evil scientist and his spider-man is just a violent shitheel” comes from, i just... really can’t ever get behind it, based on what we see in the text of SM2099 v1 (1992-1996) itself.

like, don’t get me wrong-- from our first introduction to the guy, we very quickly learn that he has been a cog in the machine for one of the 2099 imprint’s Big Bads, the ruthless megacorporation in charge of the United States’ East coast: Alchemax.

..but. like.

the whole point of his origin story is changing that. the initial catalyst for his Spidering--getting roofied by Tyler when he tries to quit his job--would not have happened if he had no moral compass to speak of.

narratively, it’s less that miguel himself is changed, after he gets his powers, but that his perception of the world has changed.

just-- just bear with me, yeah?

see, for a lot of his life, miguel was a perfect cog in a shitty machine, and he did everything he was expected to without even thinking to stray from the path set down for him by his biological father and by alchemax overall.

and, then, suddenly, that’s all ripped from him in an instant. and miguel’s left floundering in the water.

he’s no longer on the winning team-- more than that, he realizes that he probably never even was on the right side of things, to begin with.

miguel o’hara’s most-quoted line is his response to the infamous “great power,” bit: Great responsibility? No. With great power comes great guilt.

he’s repressed, and he’s a hypocrite, but a guy can only turn a blind eye so far when something he knows is wrong is happening right in front of his face.

as soon as it’s even suggested to him, he immediately steps out of line and tries to put his foot down on absolutely not using a human test subject for his personal spider-man project. when stone brushes him off and makes them go through with human testing anyways, and then the subject dies, miguel doesn’t hesitate to turn up his nose and walk out right then and there on the spot.

his reward for it, of course, is an ice-cold dose of Reality.

from there, his blinders get pulled harshly off his face, and mig realizes that he really doesn’t want to keep being the person that he has been. his life has been wasted sitting idly by and letting bad things happen because all he knows is helpless compliance, right up until he goes and gets himself The Fly’ed into spider-man.

and once that happens, and he Realizes it, he starts to fight back.

that’s how the run is kick-started, in the very first three issues!

the first ten issues of spider-man 2099 (1992) follow miguel stumbling from a very sheltered life, having been thrust head-first into navigating a world that is not only deeply, deeply unjust, but also wants him very, very dead.

he don’t got a dead uncle to motivate him! all he’s got it his own fear and an inner desire to use his new abilities to try and make the world a better place.

hell, the first time he put on the costume, ol’ miggy boy wasn’t even doing so for the purpose of becoming a superhero in his off-time-- it was just an old spare in his closet that he threw on in a desperate attempt to Not Fucking Die as a bounty hunter tracked him to his home.

it’s only later on, after he’s had time for it all to sink in, that miguel realizes that he can actually meaningfully help the people who had been cast aside by the same society that had previously lifted him up above them.

as much as he whines and bitches and moans about it, he never seriously considers throwing in the towel and hanging up the costume for good. he may hate what has happened to him, but he never once seems to hate what he can now do with his powers, vis-à-vis challenging injustice.

mig’s often stuck between a rock and a hard place, what with the kind of world he lives in. it’s why he don’t work well when he’s stranded away from his dimension. peter can get his villains locked up just fine and dandy, but miguel’s world isn’t like ours like that. it’s brutal and it’s very very much established across the imprint that earth-928 (marvel 2099) is a kill-or-be-killed place to live.

despite how people harp on him not having a no-kill rule, miguel honestly hasn’t even killed enough people to count on one hand; the first was completely by accident, even, and the second told him to his face that if spider-man let him live he’d just keep being a cannibal gang-boss because no one else ever has or would try to oppose him.

is killing people the answer? not if you have any other option. but. mig ain’t a friendly neighborhood superhero. he’s just doing what he thinks is right in the moment while scared absolutely shitless for his life most of the time.

now, i don’t mean to defend his every action--miguel o’hara isn’t a saint, and, good god, but he’s made some questionable choices--but. at the end of the day, he’s still shown throughout the run to be trying to be better.

and, i dunno. maybe i’m just a sentimental little sap, but a story about somebody who finally “wakes up” and struggles to build a life worth being proud of after years of having shut down from heavy early-life trauma? that hits, man.

hits real close to home, to be honest. learning to Live after so long simply Surviving is fuckin’ hard, man.

[clowningaroundmars]

listening to rakim and the pharcyde rn and just thinking it's actually kinda weird that more ppl haven't pointed out how much miles' taste in music affects his life and viewpoint in general

and how being raised by his uncle who's into more old school stuff on earth-42 would affect him and his development

i'm imagining 42 actually clowning 1610 for listening to post malone while placing a labcabincalifornia vinyl on his record player while they chill in his room one day lol

42's tastes would probably be more varied and just... like more developed in general bc he has a man who was more than likely a Part Of The Culture helping to raise him. aaron was out on the streets of brooklyn as a kid most likely swapping diy mixtapes and buying local rap cd's with his allowance/summer job money (assuming he was born like around 1978-1980, then he was most likely on the streets in the mid 90's during the Golden Age of Hip Hop).

not to mention that for aaron to even Do What He Does as the prowler, he is still out on the streets til this day, shooting the shit with fellow neighbors and shaking hands with black market merchants. he's dapping up store owners and trying to get on local gang leaders' good sides for intel. he's making connections! he is most def still swapping music recommendations with ppl in the hood and ordering vinyls online if he can't get his hands on them in physical brick-and-mortar stores

and music seems to be a super important thing to a man like aaron. that would definitely influence miles. interesting that i haven't seen more posts mentioning that actually!

[ladyimaginarium]

i swear to g-d im& not even the jealous type but jfc i HAAAAAAATE this feeling when im& just lowkey like. who's :)))))) this :))))) bitch 👀👀👀👀🔪🔪🔪🔪 :))))))

[theswedishpajas]

Do you have any songs that you like and recommend? Related to Beetlejuice or not! 🪲 🧃 🎶

Ooooo!!!!!!!!!!

I’m gonna preface this by saying that I like to listen to a lot of random music with varying degrees of adult content and if you’re a minor or not comfortable with that stuff, please don’t take my recommendations at face value and keep yourself safe and happy. A lot of the music I listen to gets really vulgar and dark and often touch on very existential or crude topics as those are the things my brain latches onto due to my own mental health.

I have so much music I really enjoy but it’s so hard to pin it down cus I either love every song from one band/artist almost equally (and extremely much) or I love random specific songs but to a lesser degree…!

I’m a really big fan of Will Wood in general, prolly my alltime favorite artist!! I don’t even really know an album I would recommend tho as all of them are so very different!!!

It’s kinda on a spectrum of depression and unhinged to somewhat okay and pretty calm, with his first album being on the unhinged&depression side and then in order until his latest album they slowly become more calm and healthier but still sorta struggling? That’s how I think I’d describe his music!!

The topics in the songs are very existencial a lot and get really dark so that’s something to look out for if that’s not gonna work out for you tho!!!!!

For a beginner listener I guess I might recommend the Self-Ish album, mainly because that’s the first album by him that I listened to, but also cus it’s really energetic and fun in it’s existencialism, it’s just kinda crazy more than anything else-!

Other than that…

*flips through youtube real quick to see what I like cus my memory doesn’t work right*

OH OF COURSE

Now, my taste in music is kinda fucked up-

But I’ll give a (much smaller than expected) list of songs (ESPECIALLY WITH THE MUSIC VIDEO) that I really enjoy for that exact reason:

Bring Me All Of Your Teeth by Hot Dad

O b l i v i o n by Ctrl Ult Delete

I am realizing I don’t wanna call songs I like fucked up without them being very specific cus idk what’s normal or not and I don’t want anybody to think a song they like is weird in a bad way or anything but I feel like these two are okay to call kinda fucked up!!! (Affectionate)

UHHHHHH

Man, I really don’t have any good grasp on anything I enjoy at all unless it’s a special interest???

I’d be happy to share the playlists I listen to the most if anybody wants to listen to them cus idk what else I’d actively recommend???

[springcatalyst]

🖊 for any milo and/or reiji details they fascinate me ^-^

YES thank u they live in my brain

Let me go on a tangent before I even get to what this ask actually is cause why wouldn’t I- Milo and Reiji are interesting characters to compare to each other, because despite their entwined storylines, I don’t draw a lot of connections between them as they were designed.  Characters that never interact are fun to draw conclusions with because it’s more obscure out-of-universe things:  Julian and Milo are so different but they follow very similar paths and come from very similar places.  Milo and Brooke (actually they do interact but only like, once) both deal with the results of a corrupted worldview that once questioned, can’t be ignored once again.  Reiji and Diana share an inherently wary, bleak outlook on how the world functions as a result of their own experiences.  And characters that do interact but were designed that way are... designed that way.  Julian and Liliana are the same stuff poured into different molds, impossibly similar and impossibly different, and that drives everything about their relationship- they’re foils.  Diana and Julian start at the same place in the same situation, (for different reasons), and end up wildly different people in opposite directions- they are diverging paths evidenced by truth or lies. 

But Milo and Reiji aren’t connected by anything inherent or anything unchangeable.  Their meeting in the first place is mostly chance and a little bit of give and take of compassion.  They stick together because the alternative is being alone in a world that’s so much bigger than both of them, so much older, and just a little bit more broken.  Their relationship is a choice in a way that really isn’t the case for a lot of other characters. 

And I mean, they do have parallels, but they seem different somehow, because they actually apply in-universe.  They reflect off each other.  They both leave something behind that they wish they could get back: but while Reiji’s was taken from him by circumstance and chance, Milo’s was a culmination of something grown that eventually he had to choose to abandon, though if there was any other way, he would have taken it.  (He tried, before.  It didn’t work.) 

But now they’re both missing something, and with it, their place.  Reiji doesn’t know where he belongs and the truth is that he doesn’t belong anywhere.  He can’t return to the one place he did- (it wasn’t a place, but a people.  They’re long gone, even as they live) -and now he searches aimlessly for someplace he can return to.  He doesn’t find one.  Milo loses everything he’s ever known when he walks away, and even as he makes the decision to, it feels like the admission of some crime (it looks that way to them, and he knows it).  He longs for the community he lost, but even if he gets something close to it, it’s wrong, because it isn’t them, and because the reason he left still follows him. 

They’re both ghosts wandering a vast expanse of unknown.  There is exploration in it- Milo especially does genuinely love the places he passes through, the people he meets briefly, the idiosyncrasies of each town, city, village.  Reiji less so- he’s only ever known the wandering, so it isn’t as special to him.  He’s always looking for something that will change, but even so, traveling with Milo forces him to see things he wouldn’t otherwise. 

The difference between them is that Milo stops being a ghost.  As time goes on, less and less is searching and more and more is exploring.  More is fixed than is broken.  But the opposite is true for Reiji.  As he finds nothing it feels more and more like he is one of very, very few.  That he has found no place to exist because there is no place for him, for those like him.  Reiji is looking for answers in an environment that buried most of them, in a world that hunts the rest.  And it becomes this obsession- a thousand whys. 

Why didn’t his flock look for him?  Why did he even survive?  Why is he hunted?  Why did it start and why won’t it change?  Why is the world sitting on the ashes of an older one?  Why are people broken by something they don’t remember?  Why does every place he goes scream that there used to be more?  Why are his people a part of it?  Why are they here?  Why do they occupy a world that is so clearly not made for them?  Why does he not know where they are made for? 

Reiji asks a thousand whys and they can all be summarized by one what: What happened?

Milo and Reiji cross incomprehensible distances and in the time that takes, a lot changes.  Milo goes from being a ghost of who he was and who he should be to being alive in a way he wasn’t before, genuine in a way he didn’t allow.  Milo looks for an answer in a different way than Reiji, because he is looking for certainty.  He wants someone to tell him, with no room for error, what is true and what is corrupt.  He wants surety and permanence in a way that just doesn’t exist, and so instead must choose which side he’s on- he must decide what to believe, because nobody can tell him black and white.  With that choice becomes an acknowledgement that the world isn’t as simple as good and evil, and the two can very much coexist, that perfect and unredeemable don’t really exist, not here, anyway.  He’s allowed to just be.  Reiji, though, doesn’t get the opportunity to make that choice, to take that answer.  He isn’t looking for the answer to a moral question or a cosmic should.  He is looking for a reason, which is an order of magnitude more impossible to find.  He looks to the past for why and the nature of time is that he keeps getting further and further from it.  He finds very little, which only makes him look harder, which makes it worse when he finds even less.  He starts down an impossible spiral that he can’t get out of until he finds what he wants, but what he wants just doesn’t exist in the way he needs. 

[myriadsystem]

.

[the-girl-who-didnt-smile]

“BIG PAPA” LEGBA

The man, the myth, the legend.

This is the leader of the Loa, who as I mentioned before are just the gods of Hazbin Hotel. Their leader is really fucking strong.

“Big Papa” is my favorite because all of the Loa are complete bullshit, but he’s the most bullshit of them all. 

I think I cooked up something really special with him. I cannot wait to share him with the world.

This man is called “Big Papa” Legba. Everything about this man is completely outrageous.

He is completely batshit insane.

This is how I envision this man gets introduced into Hazbin Hotel:

So you just hear this rumor that there exists a man in Hazbin Hotel who is so fucking strong that he can rip apart the entire universe with his bare hands. And you think he’s going to be this really scary guy. You think he is going to be really serious and that he is going to look completely terrifying, but no.

The most powerful man in all of Hazbin Hotel is just a jazzman from the Harlem Renaissance. 

He’s the jazziest jazzman to ever jazz.

He just fucking waltzes in, he makes a microphone materialize out of nowhere and he just starts fucking singing. 

This happens in a context when it is completely inappropriate for Black Santa Claus to break out into song. He does not care. He’s also got the craziest pipes ever. 

He’s literally got the best voice out of anyone in Hazbin Hotel, which is fucking insane because the cast of Hazbin is so packed when it comes to vocals.

This man can sing. He can dance, and he can play every musical instrument.

He introduces himself with a musical number. His musical number is called “You Can Call Me ‘BIG’ Papa!”

It’s a jazz number. 

This has to be one of the best tracks out of any season of Hazbin Hotel. It has to be the catchiest jazz number ever. 

It’s just a tribute to the Harlem Renaissance, and Alastor’s little musical number in the pilot. He brings that level of mania, dialed up to eleven. Dialed up to a thousand.

I tried to pour all of my mania into this guy, and I can be a little manic at times.

“Big Papa” Legba is just a walking tribute to the Harlem Renaissance and bullshit anime superpowers, especially One Piece. He’s basically everything I love, condensed into one man. 

This guy is so much fun.

He wears a bright red zoot. He carries a magic gold staff with a huge coil in. He can turn the staff into a gorgeous snake that he wraps around his body and he can turn it into any musical instrument. He smokes a pipe, which he can turn into saxophone and other silly things. He can just turn someone a little violin and start playing. He does all of these things during his little musical number. 

The recurring verse in his song “You Can Call Me BIG-” and when he says the word “Papa!”, he slams his magic staff into the ground. Magic gold sparks fly everywhere, and the word “BOOM” appears in pitch black behind him, filling up the entire screen. But that’s not just the word “BOOM”. What he did just there is he tore a hole in the universe in the shape of the word “BOOM”, and then he closed it. Because he can fucking do that. 

This how strong this guy is. He is the man that is powerful enough to rip apart the entire universe with his bare hands, and he loves doing it too. He rips holes in the universe all the goddamn time.

The way this man moves, walks, and talks, you get the sense that he is enormously powerful. You are correct. Everywhere he walks, magic gold sparks are flying off of him, and he sounds like thunder when he walks and talks. He is the magic man in a bright red zoot. This man is just overflowing with golden magic and charisma. His physical form can barely contain his massive reserves of pure magic.

He loves using his powers to do all sorts of crazy shit. He takes off his head and starts juggling it. He makes his arms and legs fly off like Buggy D. Clown. It goes without saying that he can do everything that Alastor can do, but can do way more than that. He has every busted Devil Fruit power, and it’s not like he can’t swim. He uses his voodoo magic to force people to listen to jazz, because he fucking loves jazz, and he forces you to start dancing to it to. 

At one point, he changes the entire art style of the show.

Also, he loves using his powers to do little quirky, mischievous things. One of the little quirky things he does with his powers is dog-taming. He can tame any dog, no matter how vicious it is, and turn it against its master. Dogs are his favorite animal. He’s got little bones in his hat, not because he has death-related powers, but because he just fucking loves dogs and they fucking love him back too. He uses his powers to make bones materialize out of nowhere so he can give them to dogs. He likes to transform the orb at the top of his staff into a bulldog head. He loves to transform himself into a bulldog too. 

On the subject of his staff, he also likes to transform the magic gold orb into a sun. He normally does this when he's about to do something NUTS with his powers, or just for a bit of visual flair.

He likes to shapeshift with his powers, and he likes to transform other people too. Another quirky thing he does is he reverts humans, sinners, and angels back into what they looked like as children during their lives as humans. This has the effect of disarming that person, but also because he’s really good with kids. He probably doesn’t need to disarm you anyways, because he’s probably way the fuck more powerful than you.

He is just a very mischievous, jazzy man.

This man always has a shit-eating grin, but it’s like a really infectious shit-eating grin. The way he smiles, you look at him, and you kind of want to start smiling too. Unlike Alastor, he only ever smiles when he’s actually happy. He’s just happy almost all of the time. He’s just a jolly old man who fucking loves jazz, and he’s here to have a good time.

He’s also just about the most powerful thing that ever existed and ever will exist.

So you might be looking at this guy and wondering “Why is he a One Piece character?” Because, in Voodoo mythology, Papa Legba (as in, the actual deity) is like this mischievous old man who wears a straw hat. He smokes a pipe and he loves dogs. He assumes the form of an old man so you think he’s more feeble than he actually, but he’s actually like the most powerful and most important deity in all of voodoo. He’s a little devious in this regard. That is why “Big Papa” Legba (as in, my attempt to turn this deity into a batshit insane anime character) is just Monkey D. Garp with the most insane voodoo magic you have ever seen in your entire goddamn life.

You cannot convince me that “Big Papa” Legba would not make the greatest addition to the cast of Hazbin Hotel.

“BIG PAPA” IN MY DERANGED FANFICTION

So in my deranged fanfiction, “Big Papa” is 100% the most important OC I have introduced here, because he’s Alastor’s surrogate father figure. He popped into Alastor’s life when he was like twelve years old and filled the void left following the deaths of both of his parents. He fucking loved Alastor’s mom. He taught Alastor everything he knows about voodoo magic. He’s the reason Alastor is as insane as he is. It’s this fucking guy.

Alastor fascinates “Big Papa” because Alastor’s entire existence is extremely improbable. In my fanfiction, Alastor is not just this mixed race Creole dude, he is also FTM trans and the child of the most evil guy and the most virtuous woman ever. He stands at the very crossroads of Black and White, Male and Female, and most importantly: Good and Evil. “Big Papa” is like this ancient, immortal god who has existed for millennia. Human lives are like these little specks flash by him in the time it takes for him to blink. In the time it takes for him to blink, Alastor is just going to be dead, and he will have missed this once-in-a-lifetime chance to study the person who stood at the very crossroads of Race, Gender, and Morality.

Also, as I mentioned, he fucking loved Alastor’s mom. Alastor’s mom was like the most virtuous and pious woman ever. She built up an enormous fortune of goodwill with these uber-powerful beings. These guys who are literally just the gods of Hazbin Hotel. They all loved her, and her dying wish was for them to protect her child. So now the most powerful god of them all is just like following Alastor around and keeping an eye on him and shit. Alastor probably would have died as a teenager if “Big Papa” didn’t have his back.

“Big Papa” thinks that just by tracking Alastor, he can learn about humanity itself. He sees Alastor as a such a improbability that he stands at the very crossroads of existence. For “Big Papa” is the god of the spiritual Crossroads, and he is a very curious god. There is no other god more captured by the existence of human lives than he.

Anyways, the best part about “Big Papa” Legba is his powers, which is what I really want to talk about. They are the most outrageous thing about this very outrageous man.

“BIG PAPA” LEGBA’S POWERS

“Big Papa” Legba’s power level is just completely fucking insane. 

In Voodoo, Papa Legba (the actual deity) is called “The Doorkeeper” and he is the deity of spiritual crossroads. This is my attempt to translate these attributes into completely insane, bullshit anime superpowers.

“Big Papa” Legba wields the powers of Dimensional Manipulation, and “Crossroads”. These are both really good powers. 

Both of these powers are completely fucking broken.

This is what it is like trying to fight this guy:

So he starts the battle by just expanding to whatever size he needs to be. He can just instantly become whatever size he needs to be, but if he is not in danger, he likes to take his time doing this. He is probably going to start dancing and singing while doing this too. Once he’s the size he needs to be, he drills his magic staff into the ground and a huge, pitch black void forms underneath him.

It is important to note that his staff does not need to make contact with the ground for this attack to activate. He’s just picking a point in space-time and choosing to make that the center of his attack.

If you fall into this void, you’re super dead.

So you’re thinking “I’ll just stay out of this void”, but this void has an insane gravitational pull. It’s basically a black hole. 

Even if you can somehow resist the enormous force behind this gravitational pull, “Big Papa” can just teleport next to you and throw you into this void. He can just turn his arm into a rubber hose and throw you in. There are a million different goofy ways this man can force you into this void. And once you’re in, you just die.

This void looks completely pitch black, unless you are standing directly above. Then you can see what is actually happening.

“Big Papa” is just collapsing all three dimensional objects that enter this void into two dimensional space. It’s just “the paper” from the Remembrance of Earth’s Past trilogy. It's actually a stronger version of the paper, because he can literally make it any size he wants and there's no spaceship fast enough to save an ORDINARY HUMAN from this attack! This is a near instantaneous attack! This is his weakest and slowest attack. He always opens with this because just wants to see who can survive his weakest slowest attack, and he loves toying with his opponents.

So you’re thinking to yourself, “I’m a shapeshifter. I’m just going to shapeshift into a two-dimensional object so Papa’s dimensional attack doesn’t kill me.” First of all, you probably cannot shapeshift fast enough to dodge this. Moreover, Papa selects three properties when he uses this attack: a center, a radius, and an angle. The angle is not fixed to the angle his staff makes with the center point of this attack. If you are not perfectly aligned to the angle of this two-dimensional plane he creates, he does not gently rotate you into the correct orientation. You get ripped by this one! The odds that you correctly guess the angle he selects is basically zero (his Battle IQ is REALLY high!!!) This is a really strong attack he’s opening with.

If you can somehow survive getting all your three dimensional matter UNRAVELED and CRUSHED into two dimensional space, now he goes in the opposite direction and explodes your ass into four dimensional confetti. 

You might be wondering what it means to get exploded into four dimensional confetti. So you know how a piece of paper is basically a two dimensional object. If you grab the top of the paper and pull it along the z-axis in one direction, while grabbing the bottom and pulling it in the opposite z-axis direction, you rip that paper in half. That’s what he’s doing to your ass, but in four dimensions. This attack rips every three dimensional object to pieces.

This is a pretty good power.

“Big Papa” can do this because he’s the Doorkeeper of the Dimensions. 

He can also crush you down into one dimensional space or explode you into higher dimensions. But his favorites are turning you into a pretty two dimensional picture, or four dimensional confetti. This man will literally just instant transmission to an uninhabited solar system, unravel and collapse all of its three dimensional matter into two dimensional space, then shrink that down like a PNG to make his next jazz album cover. He can turn the entire galaxy into four dimensional confetti and put that in his next music video.

If you are one of the few who is completely immune to dimensional attacks, then he uses his next power. This power is called “Crossroads”. “Crossroads” is when “Big Papa” claps his hands and shouts the word “CROSSROADS!!” This attack splits all of your atoms apart because it sends all your protons flying in one direction and all your neutrons flying in the opposite direction. “Big Papa” does not have to shout “CROSSROADS!!” to use the attack “Crossroads”, he just likes doing that. This attack activates once his palms make contact with each other. While he does have to clap his hand to activate this attack, as you can imagine this man can clap his hands very fast.

This is a really fast attack. The center of this attack is the point where his palms make contact with each other, and if it was not obvious, this is a spherical attack (in three dimensional space). He picks the center and radius of this attack and it activates almost instantaneously.

In theory, it is possible to dodge the attack “Crossroads”, but you cannot dodge it by stepping to the side. The only way to dodge this is to back up really fast, or to just teleport. But you probably cannot teleport fast enough to dodge this.

If you somehow manage to dodge this, “Big Papa” just keeps spamming “Crossroads” until it hits you. The probability that you dodge three rounds of “Crossroads” is basically zero. He can just instant transmission to wherever he needs to be to kill your ass with this attack.

If anyone is still alive after Papa’s void attack and three rounds of “Crossroads”, “Big Papa” just turns them into party balloons. He jump ropes with them a little bit, and then goes back to doing whatever he was doing before.

This man is a whole ass problem.

You can send armies full of millions of super-powered men at this guy, and they’re all dead in less than two minutes. And most of that time was just Papa expanding at the very beginning. You can form an army out of every canon character in the Hazbin Hotel universe and he no-diffs this army in less than thirty seconds. I don’t even think he needs to use “Crossroads” to kill all of them. I think they’re all dead after his first dimensional attack.

“BIG PAPA” GETS SERIOUS

Let’s say you can survive Papa’s void, three rounds of “Crossroads”, and getting turned into party balloons, because you are also a god. If you are also unimaginably strong and going to battle with “Big Papa”, then he gets serious.

The real fight begins.

“Big Papa” starts using all sorts of insane dimensional manipulation powers. He does not just wield the power of dimensional manipulation, he is the master of dimensional manipulation. He has completely optimized this power for maximum destruction.

This is like trying to fight a loony toon, but the loony toon is also manipulating the dimensions all around you to move your ass around too. It is basically impossible to land a hit on “Big Papa” when he gets serious. Also he’s just constantly firing “Crossroads” at you while he is doing this.

“Big Papa” can use “Crossroads” in all sorts of creative ways. For you see “Crossroads” is not restricted to splitting protons from neutrons. “Crossroads” is a really powerful magic attack where you target two parts of an object and split them apart from each other. “Big Papa” just defaults “protons” and “neutrons” because this completely obliterates pretty much everything in three dimensional space. But he can modify this attack to work in any dimensional space, and he can change the target to whatever he imagines. The only limit to what you can target with “Crossroads” is your imagination. As you can imagine, “Big Papa” is a very imaginative man. If he is fighting an ethereal, five-dimensional being that is not made out of “protons” and “neutrons”, he can still split its “arms” from its “legs”. He can destroy pretty much anything with this power.

Fighting “Big Papa” means the destruction of the known universe. He just starts tearing holes all over the universe and doesn’t bother to close them back up. You are probably going to destroy most or all of the known multiverse if you do battle with “Big Papa” Legba.

This guy is like Sun God Nika, but I think he’s actually stronger than Sun God Nika. I think he’s actually a lot stronger than Sun God Nika.

He can make himself even stronger too.

This is what “Big Papa” does when he just wants to end the fight. He stops grinning, he closes his right eye and opens left eye really wide. His left eye forms a perfect circle, and you just see this very tight gold spiral form in the center of his pupil. For you see “Big Papa” is not actually jazzman from the Harlem Renaissance in a bright red zoot. This is just the preferred avatar he assumes in three-dimensional space. 

“Big Papa” is actually a near-infinite reserve of extremely powerful magic that exists across every dimensional space in existence. He is the Doorkeeper of the Dimensions - and I mean all dimensions, including imaginary dimensions! The gold in the center of his pupil is his magic. When he opens his eye really wide like that, he is concentrating an enormous amount of his ultra-powerful magic into the one-dimensional point at the very center of his pupil. So his body goes completely stiff and still because he is no longer wasting any of his magic to manipulate his three-dimensional avatar. 

When he does this, “Crossroads” no longer has any limits to it. It just targets “everything” within an object and splits it apart. “Crossroads” is the power to destroy anything within a given dimensional space. “The Doorkeeper of the Dimensions” can also travel between dimensions and rip apart the fabric of any given dimensional space. For you see, “Big Papa” Legba is actually the god of Dimensional Destruction itself.

The best part is that his powers just look so fucking goofy no matter how serious he gets. It’s literally just Black Santa Claus in a bright red zoot. He’s no longer smiling, but he’s winking at you. He can instant transmission anywhere and grow or shrink to whatever size he needs to be. He can kill pretty much anything that ever existed and ever will exist, and I don’t think there is anything that can kill this guy. 

“Big Papa” Legba was just designed to be the most broken anime character of all time. He is so goddamn strong. He is, without exaggeration, the most powerful of the gods. It is almost inconceivable how fucking strong this man is. I think he might be the strongest man in all of fiction.

The only thing more powerful than this man is God. He is the Voodoo King from New Orleans, and he’s got power beyond your wildest dreams. 

He can pretty much do whatever the fuck he wants.

[spider-man-2o99]

Just wanted to say that I have been thinking of you and pre-emptively empathizing with the nonsense you are no doubt being flooded with and the psychic damage it must be causing. Keep stanning the king ignore the weirdos <3

thankg u.,, i feel like ive been trapped in a fuckign . Torture Labyrinth these past coupl days . but. wwe will. We Will Yet Persist onwards w/ our hand on the left wall till we;re either out or at the center i swear 2 fucking GOD,

[incognit0slut]

dude hi love tje work it’s great you’re great so if it’s not too much to ask and you can totally ignore this but can we please have thigh riding with post prison read like the seasons where he gained a little weight i mean goddamn he fills his cardigans, pants, kevlar vest so well. i actually need to feel his dad bod (that term kinda irks me but yes) angwags love u love the work keep it up -!

Spencer asks you to ride his thigh while he finishes work.

Warnings: (18+) Soft Dom Spence, Sub Fem Reader, thigh riding A/n: Apparently being sick does not stop me from being horny for this man (although it stopped me from thinking of a plot, this is just 900 words worth of smut)

You weren’t sure how you ended up in this predicament. You had simply gone to check on your boyfriend who had promised to follow you to bed an hour ago, only to find him exactly how you had left him—still in his work clothes with papers scattered across his desk. 

Spencer rarely brought work home, but when he did, he often became so engrossed that he lost track of time. So you were forced to peel yourself out of bed with the plan of persuading him to join you, although you did not expect to find yourself being the one persuaded.

Because now you were sitting along his thigh, naked and embarrassingly wet, while he continued to work.

Maybe it was because you were so desperate to be close to him that you accepted whatever he could offer. He saw it as a compromise: you could use his thigh while he finished his work, and afterward, he'd give you his full attention.

At first, you hesitated, not just because you were unsure, but because you were surprised he could come up with such an idea.

“Why don’t you ride my thigh for now?” he had suggested simply, in that soft, cool tone of his, as if he were offering something mundane like a kiss on the cheek or a hug—something soft, cute, and sweet, not riding his thigh. You didn't even know he was aware of such a concept.

But your clit pulsed with need, a lump formed in your throat, and your mouth went dry. You had swallowed and licked your lips, not quite used to this sudden authoritative attitude he had adopted. However, you were not complaining, especially with how it made you ache with desire.

So, you stripped off your clothes and climbed on top of him. 

The rough fabric of his trousers created delicious friction against your sensitive flesh, and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan as he placed a steadying hand on your hip. You had been sitting there, not knowing what to do, until you couldn’t hold on any longer.

You began to move, slowly at first, trying to find a rhythm that would bring you relief. Every drag of your clit against his thigh sent waves of pleasure through you, and soon you were panting softly, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. Spencer’s attention remained on his work, but the slight tightening of his grip on your hip and the occasional flicker of his gaze told you he was very aware of what you were doing.

Your breaths grew heavier, mingling with the rustle of papers and the soft hum of the night. The need within you built steadily, each stroke of his thigh against your sensitive flesh bringing you closer to the edge. You leaned forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder, as his voice cut through the haze of your arousal. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his tone still maddeningly calm. “Just like that.”

Your nails dug into his arms as your desperation to be close to him, to feel him, drove you on, even as he remained focused on his work.

“Spence,” you whined, almost pathetically, your hips continuing to find that delicious friction. “Please…”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, rubbing soothing circles on your skin as you struggled. “I’m almost done.”

A strangled cry left your lips as the intensity of your movements increased. Your legs instinctively spread wider as you sought more, and your clit pressed harder against the rough fabric of his pants. The sensation was electrifying, and you could feel your slickness spreading, but Spencer didn't seem to mind. Instead, he tightened his grip on your hips, guiding you with a steady rhythm.

Your fingers gripped his shirt as you buried yourself in his neck, inhaling his scent—intoxicating and arousing. You pressed your naked flesh against his clothed body, pushing against him as if you wanted to be closer, to sink yourself into him completely.

Spencer’s calm demeanor only made your desperation grow. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Just let go.”

The friction, the heat, and his words all combined into an irresistible force. You felt yourself spiraling, your body trembling as you rode his thigh with abandon. The sensation of his muscles tensing beneath you, his hand guiding your movements, was too much. Your moans grew louder, mixing with the rustle of papers and the steady hum of his voice.

You whimpered, the ache between your legs becoming almost unbearable. “Please,” you begged, your voice a breathless plea.

He responded by pressing his thigh against you more firmly, his fingers digging into your skin possessively. The combination of his commanding presence and the friction against your sensitive cunt was overwhelming.

The intensity grew, every touch, every stroke pushing you closer to the edge. You gripped him tighter, losing yourself in the sensation, your mind consumed by the intoxicating blend of his scent, his touch, and the raw need pulsing through your veins.

Your body tensed, and with a gasp, you finally let go. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you shuddering and breathless. Spencer held you tightly, his hand stroking your back as you came down from your high, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips.

When you finally came down, panting and spent, he looked at you with a mixture of pride and affection. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I think you earned my full attention now.”

You melted into him, barely able to support your own weight. He lifted you gently, guiding you to the bed, and as he laid you down and began to undress, you realized that the night was far from over.

[nkogneatho]

okay but pathetic yuji tho?? and sukuna just watching in disbelief at how down bad this dude is

sukuna really be laughing so hard at the way yuuji clowns his own ass all the time. like okay he knew he was a dumb boy but goddamn he didn't know he has no sense of self respect when he's such a simp for you.

you tell him no for a date and he is touching your feet and it's so hard to move because he's gripping them. it is so embarrassing for you too because everyone on the road is watching you, and judging him. he'll throw a tantrum right then and there. you agree to his "date" to free yourself from the dilemma but there you are two weeks later naked on his bed. yuuji loves backshots as you know he's an ass man so he begs you to let him hit it from the back. you've never done doggy so you pause before you answer but then you say yes to put a stop to his nonstop "please"

yuuji whimpers. LIKE HE ACTUALLY WHIMPERS when he feels your walls squeezing him. he grabs a handful of your ass and the pace is irregular because his legs are shaking everytime he shoves it in.

"god! my fucking god. i knew this pussy was good. look at your—ah! look at your ass fucking jiggling baby—fuck. gunna fuck me silly. please, use me. move your ass, or you want me to beg on ma knees again?"

and there's sukuna inside watching it all go down. as much as he's getting the second hand embarrassment from the way yuuji is so desperate, he also can't think straight because the whole scenario has him pumping his cock as he watches.

[milky-crate]

Those kids are gonna be stuck on an island forever!!!!! Perpetually for the rest of my life!!!!! Rip to the wilds man, I’ll never get over this.

Thank god for fanfic

[maokomi]

⠀「 “Dress slutty babe, I can fight,” but can they really? *ೃ༄ 」 

ᥫ᭡ Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

.ೃ࿔*:･「𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬.」 modern au, gn reader, established relationship crack ?? This shit aint serious so don’t treat it like it is lmfao

.ೃ࿔*:･「𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠.」 Xiao, Kazuha, Zhongli, Kaeya, Kaveh, Cyno

Wrote this drunk, no editing, no looking back at my regrets last night. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. 

⠀「 XIAO*ೃ༄ 」

YOU BET UR ASS THIS MAN CAN FIGHT

Tells u to dress slutty with his whole chest !!!

Wear whatever you want to feel good about yourself and to feel comfortable. That’s all that Xiao cares abt tbh. 

If he sees anyone leering at you in your hot outfit though? His munchkin ass is on them in a heartbeat.

Doesn’t matter who. Doesn’t matter how tall they are. He’ll bark up at them like a chihuahua. Scale them like a fuckin rabid cat or smthn.

Xiao said he can fight and he will !!!!!

⠀「 KAZUHA*ೃ༄ 」

Compliments you in your sluttiest outfit !! Hell, mans helps you pick it out!! 

CAN FIGHT Can !! Beat !! Ass !!

Except he chooses not to 😌 because he is a lover💞💕 not 🙅‍♂️🚫 a fighter ☮️🕊✌️😌

But he makes it very very very clear to anyone and everyone who so much glances in ur general direction that !! HELLO HE IS UR MAN

Holds ur hand. Keeps an arm around your middle. Plays with ur hair. The whole shebang baby

But if someone grows the gonads to actually approach you while Kazuha is so blatantly flirting with u right then and there ?? 

Kazuha doesn’t even have to get up.

He fucking ROASTS the motherfucker alive. All cool and suave. Keeps his voice level while he tells the newcomer all the reasons why their parents are disappointed in them.

Kazuha fucking cooks them bro I dont know what to tell u Rest In Peace to that dumbass I guess

⠀「 ZHONGLI*ೃ༄ 」

Bold of anyone to think they can steal u from a man who walks in with this much rizz 🤨

Zhongli wears a whole ass custom Valentino suit & shoes to go to a club no way in hell is anyone gonna try to chat u up baby doesn’t matter how slutty u dress

Esp when ?? Ur slutty outfit matches Zhongli’s fit ? Absolute power couple I rest my case

Sugar daddy Zhongli supremacy I said what I said

I restate my point: No one is gonna think they have a chance against Zhongli. They’re all scared they’ll get murked on their way home if they so much as try. 

Kinda soft but they fr dont even have a chance bc Zhongli just has to compliment u and u light up like an actual Christmas tree, you get so goddamn happy that anyone even trying to fight him is already fighting a losing battle.

⠀「 KAEYA*ೃ༄ 」

Baby, bold of u to assume that Kaeya’s not gonna be dressed sluttier than u 🤨

Hate to break it to you buttercup but Kaeya’s not gonna be the one royal rumbling tonight— nu uh, that’s you.

Have you seen the titty window this man rocks? 

Skip the accessories whenever you go out Kaeya, because you are going to beat some ass, and earrings and necklaces only get in the way 💕

It’s tiring having to keep everyone’s eyes off of ur boyfriend but it’s okay because whenever you go to the bar for a quick time out, Kaeya always has a kiss and a drink ready for u before u go back to fucking people up <3

⠀「 KAVEH*ೃ༄ 」

I love him but you’re on your own honey

Claims that he’ll kick ass— that you can wear whateverrr you want, that you look so hot, that you look amazing and that he’ll fight anyone who comes near u

Hypes you up and hollers and makes u feel like a million bucks because he’s a good, supportive bf

But in the midst of it all you forget he’s some broke ass architect who probably hasn’t taken a solid punch in his life

When someone approaches u he puffs up his chest and stands in front of u with his most intense bitch face, says smthn that he thinks tough guys says like, ‘you wanna fight? Let’s fight.’ Or some cheesy shit like that

The moment the other dude swings tho its over 💀 Kaveh yells and has to hide behind you 

It’s okay tho because he’s cute <3 (even if he’s broke)

Hope you didn’t wear anything breakable baby bc youre the one who’s gotta fight for urself

⠀「 CYNO*ೃ༄ 」

Doesn’t even have to fight bro.

Doesn’t matter how slutty you dress— you could walk into a bar with just the bare minimum on and no one would look your way.

Not because you’re unattractive, because that is far from the truth.

No— it’s because of Cyno’s arm wrapped around your shoulder and the absolute death stare he gives anyone who looks your way with even a hint of lechery in their gaze.

Crazy shit, I tell you. Motherfucker’s eyes look like he’ll pounce on anyone who so much as wolf whistles your way. No one wants to get fucked up by a dude who looks like he’ll go blue eyes white dragon on their ass.

[hairstevington]

call me when you get this

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Eddie and Steve are best friends, but even the best of friends have secrets.

WC: 3K

Warnings: Story told through voicemails, mild angst, coming out to each other, secret feelings, friends to lovers, kissing, swearing, light angst very brief, references to Robin and Gareth, drunk shenangians, idiots in love, set in 1991 but it doesn't matter too much, no mention of the Upside Down stuff

A/N: I have like three other WIP's happening and zero time but this idea was given to me by the beloved @tinytalkingtina in the discord and then I couldn't get it out of my head. Ao3 link here for those interested!

Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 12:52am

GARETH hi yes I know it’s late but HAVE YOU LISTENED TO THE ALBUM YET? I need all of your thoughts immediately. Like, all of them. Every thought. Dude, my head is spinning. Ohhh, man. Kurt is a fuckin’ legend. Woooow. Okay, I could talk about this shit for like three hours but I don’t want to run out your tape so just call me back when you get this and then talk to me about it for three hours. Can I come over a little early tomorrow? Yeah, I’m gonna come over a little early tomorrow. Maybe a lot early. Alright, catch ya then. 

Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 3:40pm

Uhh, ha. Hey Steve. Thiiiis is Eddie, obviously. I, uh, I just realized I called you in the middle of the night last night on accident, and - uhh, sorry about that. It was just - ah, screw it. You know what I am. Byeeeeee-

Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 7:30pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Eds, how many times do I have to tell you to change your answering machine message? What if, like, the president calls? Okay, maybe not the president. But an employer or something. Or, like, what if you give the girl of your dreams your number and she calls you and hears THAT? Food for thought. Uhh, anyway, it’s fine. I wasn’t even home when you called me. Robin was, though, and so you’ll probably hear her wrath next time you come over for movie night. Good luck with that. Oh, wait. You’re at a show tonight, right? Damn. I swear I’ll make the next one. Okay, bye, dickhead. 

Wednesday, September 25th, 1991, 1:12pm

“You have reached Steve Harrington. Figured I should say that in case whoever is calling me thinks they’re calling someone else. Anyway, I’m busy right now so I’ll call you back. Bye!”

Ha, ha. You are so funny, Harrington. You ever think about being a stand-up comedian? Jesus, and you say I’M the dramatic one. Uhh, the show last night went well, by the way. Not that you were THERE. Seriously, what kind of friend even are you? I’m hurt, Steve. I’m hurt. Anyway, see you tomorrow for movie night. I get to pick. It’s only fair, right?

Thursday, September 27th, 1991, 4pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

You’re not picking the goddamn movie. No way. Last time you did that we got scarred for life. Also, um. I can’t tell if you’re joking or not about me and your shows. I didn’t realize you - uhh, you’re probably joking. Forget I said anything, and see you tonight. I’m at work right now, so I’m gonna rent some backup options just in case.

Sunday, September 30th, 1991, 2pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Dustin says you were being a total dick last night. Good. That shrimp deserves to be humbled every once in a while. Your answering machine message still sucks, by the way, and yeah I’m gonna tell you every time. 

Monday, October 1st, 1991, 3:21pm

“Hey, this is Steve.”

“And Robin!”

“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”

“We are probably together.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, that too.”

“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”

“Probably.”

“Probably!”

Steve. My guy. I can’t believe you make fun of me for my bullshit message all the time and now you’ve created and advertised THAT abomination?? I’m - wow. I forgot why I even called.

Monday, October 1st, 1991, 3:23pm

“Hey, this is Steve.”

“And Robin!”

“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”

“We are probably together.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, that too.”

“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”

“Probably.”

“Probably!”

Okay, I remember now. I know you said you have that date tomorrow with Heidi or Melissa or Samantha or whoever is currently obsessed with you, but I really do want you at the show if you can make it. You can bring her, if you want. Actually, it might be a good test. If she hates metal, she fails. I only want the best suitors for you, Steve Harrington. Be there or I’ll be REALLY annoying about it forever. 

Tuesday, October 2nd, 1991, 11:45pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Hey, it’s Steve. So, uh - I saw your show tonight. You’re probably not home yet, but I don’t know where you are. Cuz like, I tried to find you after your set but you disappeared. I hope everything’s okay. You sounded great, by the way. I mean, you all did. Remember me when you’re playing at the Garden? Oh also, I heard like three women talk about how badly they wanted you, so…I dunno, just figured you’d like to hear that. Hey, maybe you got with one of them and that’s why you’re not answering. In that case, hope you’re having fun? Okay, now it’s weird. Bye, Eds.

Wednesday, October 3rd, 12:54am

“Hey, this is Steve.”

“And Robin!”

“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”

“We are probably together.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, that too.”

“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”

“Probably.”

“Probably!”

Steeeeeeeeeeeve. You absolute buffoon. You beautiful, oblivious man. Why’dya think I wanted you there’so badly t’night, Steve? T’wasn’t for the girls. Ha, girls. Yeah, okay. I may have had several alcoholic beverages, Steve-o, but you’re still the dumbass. Cuz you’d have to be an absolute idiot t’think I have any interest in those women. ‘Specially yours. Your women, I mean. Sandyyyyy. Ugh, she was perfect for you, Harrington. Juuuust perfect. So perfect I didn’t wanna stick around to see any more of it. I hope you two have beautiful children. Name one after me, will you? Uhhhh I think I might puke. So, I’m gonna go, but - but do you get what I’m saying? Do you - do you get it? Tell me you get it. Steve, I - Oh, hey Gareth. Do you wanna talk to Steve? Wait why are you - Dude, I’m FINE. I’m handling it! Stop! Gareth, don’t hang up the phone, I haven’t -!

Wednesday, October 3nd, 1991, 9:05am

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Dude, did you fucking break into our apartment last night? Robin and I came home this morning and found a broken lock and some shitty note we could barely read next to the answering machine, and - what the fuck, man? You wiped the damn thing clean. Just - call me back, okay? Jesus. 

Wednesday, October 3nd, 1991, 11:36am

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Eddie, come on. We really need to talk. I’m not - I’m not mad, honest to God. Call me back, as soon as you get this. Got it?

Thursday, October 4th, 1991, 3:47pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

It’s movie night, but I’m assuming you won’t be here considering you’ve pulled your magic disappearing act. Thanks for that, by the way. You know you really piss me off sometimes? All the time, actually. I’m getting real tired of you constantly poking fun at me, and then you pull this breaking and entering shit and just take off? Just like that? We’ve been friends for years, Eds. You and me. But you never want to just be serious, not once in your goddamn life, and I’m over it. So, uh, thanks for that, I guess. I dunno what I did. 

Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:12pm

Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!

Huh. You know what? I kind of miss the old message you had. Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m impossible to please, yada yada yada, and now I’m doing the avoiding with humor thing again. Shit. Uhh, hi. Listen, I’m sorry I disappeared off the face of the earth for a while. Really, really fucking sorry, if you can believe it. I was just, like, mad embarrassed, and I didn’t wanna - uh, can we meet up soon? Alone? Like, without Robin even? I know that’s - like, unheard of these days, but I figure maybe you’d make an exception for me. Or maybe you won’t. Just let me know, yeah? 

Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:30pm

Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!

See, I would just hop on over to your place to talk but the thing is, I’m a total chickenshit and it’s not like I did super well the last time I showed up to your place unannounced, so…Uhh, while we’re on the subject, I’m sorry about your lock. If you haven’t replaced it yet, I will. I’ll at least pay you back. In my defense, that thing was like two seconds from falling off anyway. But still. Anyway, I know you always spend Sundays at home, soooo…hellooooo? Come on. At least pick up the phone and tell me to fuck off. I know you’re listening. At least - I hope you are, anyway. Just pick up, man. I - I really gotta talk to you. 

Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:37pm

Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!

So, quick update, I called Henderson. He confirmed you are at home, which means you are DEFINITELY listening, and either you’re trying to punish me or a part of you still finds my piece of shit ass charming somehow. Look, I know I fucked up, but - but I can explain. Shit. I mean, I’m not good with words or anything and I’m a total asshole but I - just, please. Pick up. Pick uuuuup. Come on. Now you’re just being a dick. Ha. Figures, I’m apologizing and calling you a dick in the same message. Dude. Seriously. Your tape is gonna run out of space and then what? You stop hearing from me? I’ll find other ways to annoy you, promise. This is a threat. Steve. Steeeeve. Pick up pick up pick up pick upppp -

“Will you just shut the hell up already?”

Eddie dropped the phone and heard it clack against the floor. He would have recognized that voice anywhere. 

He turned around and there he was. 

“Steve, what are you -?”

“You would just be yapping on that damn answering machine my whole drive here,” Steve said with his hands on his hips. “I don’t know why I expected any less. And, thanks to you, we had all the space in the world for you to take up, so -”

“H-how did you get in here?” Eddie stuttered. 

Steve rolled his eyes. “What? You think you’re the only one who’s not afraid of breaking and entering?”

They hadn’t seen each other in five days. Hadn’t even talked, aside from a few voicemails. And those never told the whole story. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie began. 

“Yeah, you should be,” Steve replied, taking a step closer to Eddie in the kitchen. 

Eddie winced, his heart racing a million miles a minute. He just had to get all of the words out, while he still could. While Steve was listening. 

“I left you this really stupid voicemail,” Eddie explained. “That night, after the show. I was drunk off my ass, and - and Gareth told me I’d said shit I shouldn’t have said, and then I panicked, and the two of us went to your apartment and I - well, you know the rest.” He slumped down into the chair at the dining room table, putting his head in his hands. “Which is all just so dumb. And I didn’t wanna deal with the aftermath, so…”

“So you stopped talking to me?” Steve said, taking another step closer. “Because you thought that would be the straw that broke the camel’s back in our friendship?”

Eddie shook his head. “I dunno, I -”

“You’ve done some real weird shit over the years, Munson,” Steve continued. “Sneaking into my apartment doesn’t even make the top three.”

Eddie buried his face in his hair. No amount of boyish charm would get him out of this one. Jesus H. Christ. 

He sighed. “Okay, so I overreacted, what else is new?” 

“I heard the voicemail, dickhead.”

Eddie’s heart went from breakneck speeds to stopping entirely. 

“What?”

Steve sat down in the other seat at the table. “I heard the voicemail. It was 1am, again, so yeah I was at home.”

“I thought you would have been with Sandy,” Eddie muttered.

Steve shook his head. “Nah, Sandy was - she’s great and all, but she isn’t - she’s not -”

“So you heard the voicemail, but you weren’t home when I showed up,” Eddie noted.

“Right,” Steve said. “Because I was headed to your place.”

“What?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I just - I didn’t understand why you never told me you were queer. Like, you know I don’t care about that. You know about Robin…”

As Steve talked, Eddie realized that Steve only heard half of what that voicemail was trying to express. So, it was time for Eddie Munson to face the music. 

“I didn’t tell you I’m gay because I knew that once I did, you’d figure out the rest of it,” Eddie blurted out.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “The rest of it?”

Eddie groaned. “Oh, God. See, drunk me had the right idea saying this kind of shit over an answering machine. Christ, I’m so bad at this, but I’m just gonna say it, because if I don’t I think I’ll lose my shot with you and I - I can’t deal with that. So, here we go.” He squeezed his eyes shut and powered through. “Steve, I - ha, shit. I love you, dude. I’m - I’m IN love with you. I have been since, like, forever.” He opened his eyes, but kept them fixed on their feet against the linoleum kitchen floor. “Which is, uhh, a lot, I know. But it’s the truth. So if there’s any chance -”

“Oh, my God,” Steve interrupted. His voice wasn’t angry, or scared, or anything like that. It was soft and understanding. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Wait, what are you thinking?” He looked up to see Steve staring off into the distance before meeting his gaze. 

“I’m thinking,” Steve replied. “That I owe Robin twenty bucks.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and felt his heart skip back into rhythm. “You do?”

Steve nodded with a slight smile. At some point, his hand had ended up on Eddie’s knee. “Yeah, I didn’t believe her. Told her no way, not possible.”

Eddie didn’t know how to feel about this reaction. It wasn’t the worst possible response, but it certainly wasn’t Oh, Eddie! How I’ve longed for you all this time! Take me now! 

A middleground, if you will. 

“Oookay,” Eddie said. “Well, I don’t really know what to say now.”

“I’m queer too, ya know,” Steve continued.

"Wait, really?" Eddie balked. "Steve Harrington, ladies man?"

Steve chuckled. "Uh, yeah. Turns out, not so much," he said. "I feel like I’m pretty open about it. Guys, girls, whatever -”

“Yeah, but we all do that,” Eddie reasoned. “Me, you, and Robin all talking about how hot everyone is on our movie nights. It doesn’t prove anything.”

“Except that it totally does,” Steve countered. “Because, like, what do we all have in common?"

Eddie thought about it, and he didn’t have any other defenses.

“O-okay, so you’re queer too,” Eddie said. “And the other thing I said?”

Steve took a deep breath and looked Eddie directly in his frightened eyes.

“Eds, obviously I love you too,” Steve admitted at last. “Come on, seriously? After all I’ve put up with? I’ve been waiting around for like five days for you to call, like some lovesick puppy, and the moment I heard your voice I drove here instead of picking up the phone like a normal person. I’ve got it so bad for you that Robin is sick of it, and honestly, I’m sick of it too, because I hate having feelings. It blows, dude. I swear to God, if you try to bolt again when things get tough -”

Eddie lunged forward and cut Steve’s words off with a kiss. Their first kiss, even if it didn’t feel that way. Eddie had cupped Steve’s cheek in the past while he teased him. Steve had curled his fingers in Eddie’s hair in the past the night Robin taught him how to braid. Eddie and Steve had all kinds of physical contact in various ways over the years, and it was as if all of that was just practice for this. 

Eddie broke away from Steve’s lips purely out of necessity, because he needed to catch his breath. “Okay, woah,” he said.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Woah.”

Everything changed after that. But also, nothing changed at all.

-

Tuesday, October 16th, 1991, 4:12pm

“Hey, this is Eddie Munson’s phone. Leave a message and I’ll call ya back.”

Hi, Eds. Okay, I was wrong. This new message you have is, like, super boring. Anyway, I’ll see you at the show tonight, Rockstar. Love you. 

xx

I did have a taglist way back when but the tagging system is super annoying on tumblr, so please reblog this if you liked it and follow me or my Ao3 for other works! Masterlist is the pinned post on my page for those interested. Thanks for reading!

[cordeliawhohung]

Dude shy! Reader and Mafia! Underboss! Simon is giving me major brain rot right now.

I saw you slip in at the end of one of your drabbles about possibly making reader a virgin and I wholeheartedly agree with you.

I can just see his brain absolutely short circuiting so fast when he finds that out. He’d be soooo prideful and comforting to reader if/when she finally lets him take her virginity.

I truly believe that this man has the best aftercare as well. You would have a whole ass spa day after he���s done fucking you.

i love seeing everyone's opinions on this so much ;alksdjf

i'm thinking shy!reader being a virgin fits super well because in my mind she def has the urge to want to be with someone ya know? but she's just too goddamn awkward and overthinking it and maybe a little self conscious that she just never really has the opportunity to?? and i agree with you 100% about simon fucking short circuiting lmao. like just imagine he's trying to initiate something and it gets a little heated and he feels you start to tense up and asks if everything is okay and you have to pitifully admit that you've never really done anything past kissing ):

i think he fixates on it more than he should, too. like he would never tease you or anything but it's certainly on his mind for WEEKS and he's trying to concoct the perfect scenario of what would be best for you and how to make things perfect because you're his girl and you only get the best but maybe it also fuels his ego a little bit cuz he's still kind of a prick lmao

also, for your first time he doesn't let you do ANYTHING. you've seen the vids, and you have it in your head that you're supposed to be performing the whole time but no! he basically forces you to be a pillow princess. might not even initiate p in v sex the first time you get intimate either, he's just totally content fucking his fingers into you and watching the pleasure contort on your face while you're moaning for him ):

and of course the aftercare is god tier!!! he knows he's a big guy and he can get a little rough and into it and so he's making sure you're hydrated, telling you to use the bathroom so you don't get a uti, and just fucking dotes on you the rest of the day/night. like he will rarely let you leave his sight or his arms because honestly you've got him wrapped around your finger <3

god like imagine aftercare in the shower with him??? just washing you up? the tattoos??? you guys need to fucking sedate me actually

[444rockstargf]

so happy your requests are open tbfh, could you write something (for euro, he is so MEEEEOOWWW) about reader being a sibling of one of the other band members and they hate each other and then SEX!!

thats as specific as i can get i fear 😭 i love your work so much thanks for your time girl!!

thank you for the request babe! (this is absolutely scrumptious.)

"big, bad, naughty rock star." | euronymous

big bad wolf. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp@auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart @imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt

female!reader x r!euronymous

word count: 1.6k

contents: brother's best friend type relationship, tension, drinking, unprotected p in v, implications of masturbation, creampie, overstimulation, not proofread!!!

heavy metal music tore through the thin walls of your house, the noise from the basement sounding as deafening as ever from your bedroom. you were lying on your bed, eyes closed as vibrations filled your body.

you groaned, rolling off your bed as the pounding sensation in your head grew more intolerable by each passing second. truth be told, you had no problem with death metal. your brother was into it, so that automatically meant that it would rub off on you. but what you didn’t like was attention-hungry guitarists who didn’t know when to give the ear-piercing riffs a break.

you stormed down two flights of stairs, making your way to the source of the racket. you swung open the door, causing the music to come to an immiediate halt and all eyes to turn to you. euronymous’, or rather oystein’s gaze caught your eye first. it was icy and cold and bitter like the depths of the arctic.

you placed your hands on your hips, your friendly eyes turning to slits as you met his glare. “can you animals keep it down in here? i’d hate to fall asleep to your music and suddenly wake up in the pits of hell.” jan axel, your brother, smirked at your comment with a little chuckle. “no problem. we’d hate to interrupt your beauty sleep.” you swatted him off, turning and walking away from the atmosphere.

you felt a pair of predatory eyes on you the entire time, probably studying you. you had shown up in a lacy camisole top, tiny black shorts and white thigh-high socks with little pink bows on them, an outfit that would now be engraved in euronymous’ mind for the rest of time. he watched you walk up the stairs as his band continued playing, watching your ass jiggle with each step you took.

then he turned to your brother.

“why the fuck do you let her walk all over you like that? she bitches and whines like a goddamn 12 year old.” jan scoffs. “c’mon man, that’s my little sister. and you know she’s 18. you were even at that big birthday party of her’s, remember?”

oh yes, he remembered. the night you got blackout drunk and tried to lead him on, leading to a very sloppy hookup that also happened to be the night he lost his virginity, to you. but you didn’t remember any of this, and that was probably for the best. so all you viewed him as was that weird guy that hung out with your brother. 

euronymous rubbed a hand over his face. “she’s a fuckin’ brat, dude. and she dresses like a damn hooker. you can’t just let her do whatever the hell she wants around here. one way or another, it’ll ruin our band.” jan brushed him off. “whatever, man. she’s her own person. she’s a woman, so it’d be pretty fucked up for me to be bossing her around.” he flipped over his sheet music. “from the top.”

euronymous placed his guitar on it’s stand. “i’m grabbing a beer.” he muttered, making his way to the stairs and bolting up them. that’s when he saw you in the kitchen, squirting whipped cream into your mouth from the can. he felt heat pooling in his core from the sight. “oh, fuck me…” he muttered under his breath, making you turn your head to him.

“the grumpy old troll crawled out of his cave, hm?” you taunted. he rolled his eyes, spitting back a snarky response. “why don’t you crawl back into whatever fairytale you lept out from.” you snarled, the expression on your face making euronymous’ knees weak. you opened the fridge, putting the whipped cream back and grabbing a bottle of beer. the last one.

you started heading back to your room until you felt a calloused hand grip your wrist, pulling you back. “i was gonna take that.” his eyes bored into your soul, but you put on a fake-pout. “well that’s too bad.” you licked around the tip of the bottle, claiming your territory in attempt to disgust him enough to leave you alone. but his pupils dilated when he saw your pink tongue smear saliva across the bottle, awakening something primal in him.

you hopped up the stairs, giving him a view of your legs in such innocent yet provocative clothing. without thining, he followed you up, walking into your room behind you and pinning you to the door by your chest. your eyes widened as the door shut behind you, your heart hammering inside of your chest.

“what the hell are you doing, oystein? jan would murder you if he saw you doing this.” euronymous didn’t have anything to say to that, so his mouth gaped open slightly as he studied your features. you looked like if your brother was crossed with a cute little child’s doll. your eyes shimmered with intense emotion, and he imagined what they’d look like as they rolled to the back of his head while he fucked you. 

he watched the top of your breasts rise and fall with each heavy breath you took, feeling a very familiar sensation in his jeans. one that he always felt whenever he saw you. he shook himself back to reality, plucking the beer out of your hand. “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be drinking this. besides, you’re a kid.” your cheeks puffed up with anger. “you’re like 6 months older than me, asshole.”

he shrugged, leaning against your wall and taking a large swig of beer, looking around your bedroom. as pink and girly as it was, it all became much more lewd the longer he looked. there were bras and panties slung across almost every surface, smutty books filling your bookshelves, and a pretty pink vibrator that failed to be hidden underneath your pillow.

euronymous smirked, walking toward your bed and picking it up, switching it on. “well what do we have here?” your breath left your lungs as he held it, quickly rushing up to him and snatching it. “dont touch that!” he laughed bitterly, looking you right in the eye. “so turns out princess bubblegum’s a fucking whore.” you felt your cheeks heating up as he continued to speak.

“did you get to cum, dolly? or was the sound of real music too much for your pretty little ears?” you opened your drawer, tossing the vibrator into it and slamming it shut. then you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist, picking you up and throwing you onto your bed.

everything was happening too fast for you, but the next thing you knew euronymous was on top of you, your faces less than an inch apart as his tone turned into one of lust and desire. “i asked you a question, angel. did that stupid toy make you cum?” you gulped, your core starting to drip from the words he spoke.

you shook your head, causing him to smile. he pushed your legs apart, letting himself in between them and pressing his burning erection onto your clothed pussy, making you gasp. he trailed his hand down your body, his fingers slithering under the waistband of your shorts and stopping at your panties, feeling the sopping wet mess underneath the thin, lacy fabric.

your limbs turned to jelly as a moan slipped from your lips. he began to rub slow circles onto your hard clit, feeling it’s throbbing response.he used his other hand to slip of your shorts, then your panties, taking off your clothes layer by layer until only your socks were left. but he left those on. he thought they were a nice touch.

one thing led to another, and he was pounding into you from behind, his fingers shoved down your throat as he stretched out your tiny little pussy with his monstrous cock.

your back arched as he pressed you into the mattress, feeding on your desperate moans and whimpers like a starved beast. “like that, doll? is that the spot?” he cooed, obviously mocking you. you were a sobbing mess, your mascara running down your face as you drooled around his large fingers.

he looked down at you from where he was, watching your ass bounce with each hard thrust. he watched the curve of your back as his dick made you lose all control of your senses. you would never admit it to him, but he made you feel much better than that stupid vibrator did.

“i-im cumming, oystein..!” you managed to cry out, his finger muffling your words. you had gushed and creamed and squirted around him so many times by now that you had lost count. but body was weak beyond its limits, but he refused to stop. he just kept on pushing, his deep, hoarse groans eoching through your bedroom walls.

he landed a harsh slap onto your bruised ass, making you yelp. his thrusts began to lose their composure as he spoke, his voice breaking. “c-can you cum f’me one more time, baby… can you do that for me..?” you nodded frantically, tears rolling down your face and staining your bedsheets.

his cock throbbed inside of your pulsating hole, creating a wet and sticky mess as cum poured down your thighs and stomach. and then he began to shout, his voice coming out as a booming roar. “goddamnit!” he forced himself all the way in, making your heart stop for a moment as he filled you up with his molten hot cum. he gave you a few more lazy thrusts, his groans turning into little whimpers before he pulled out, shooting a few last ropes onto your arched back.

you laid there, panting like a dog as the realization hit you. your brother’s best friend had just fucked you. the one that you had never gotten along with. the one who swore he’d kill himself if you ever got a man to touch you. the one who longed for the day that he’d finally get to claim a pure soul like yours as his own. and now, he’d finally done it. again.

author's note: i ran to write this as soon as I got the request. goodnight yall :))