#no tag ramble today folks!

[hypewinter]

Previous Post

Can I offer you another Danny POV in these trying times?

It had started after his encounter with the costumed people. After that his dad had taken him to the store and bought a lot of strange items. From there, he put the strange items together and put them up all around the house. Ever since then, Danny couldn't go through the walls.

Danny pushed against the wall now but he couldn't go through just like all his other past attempts. But if he couldn't go through, how would he play tag with his dad!? Fat tears bubbled up in his eyes as he tried to desperately push through the wall. He liked playing with his dad! It was the best part of the day.

Tears began to fall freely down his cheeks and he let out a whimper as he tried phasing through the floor this time to no avail. Suddenly big hands scooped him up.

Jack tried to soothe his son but Danny was not listening to his assurances that "this was to protect him" and "it was for the best". He was too busy crying while glaring at the strange items covering it. If only they weren't there.

--------

Danny woke up to voices outside his room. One was his dad's but the other was female. He tensed up in fear, remembering the last female voice he encountered, but this one was different. It was younger and for some reason, hearing it filled him with warmth.

"Now's not the time for that Dad." The female voice said.

"No, I won't have my princess sacrificing her education." Replied his dad.

Danny wondered what they were talking about. He was also curious about who the owner of this new voice was. She had called his dad , her dad. Did that mean they were related. That would make them siblings right? He had a sister?

Suddenly a thought came from deep within his mind. Of course I have a sister, her name is Jazz. But his moment of clarity was gone just as soon as it had overtaken him. Danny was left wondering who is Jazz? as he drifted back to sleep.

--------

Jazz as it turned out was his red-headed sister. And although she always wore a smile around him, it was always tinted with sadness. Danny couldn't help but wonder why.

Everything was going great so there was no reason to be sad. Jazz had now moved in, all the neighbors were constantly cooing at him and giving him treats, and Jack had gotten a job with some red person. Wait, did he get hired by Little Red Riding Hood? Maybe she needed a new hunter to help her fight the wolf.

At that thought, Danny couldn't help but look at his father in awe. Every evening when he left, Danny silently hoped he'd catch a lot of bad wolves.

--------

It took a couple of weeks for Danny to find out that while his dad worked for a Red Hood, it was very disappointingly not Red Riding Hood. Instead it was some guy with a white streak in his hair with some very disgusting ectoplasm circulating his body.

Danny made a face and turned into his sister's hold as he came face to face with the guy at the doorway.

"I'm sorry about that." she said to the guy, "He's not usually like this."

"It's ok, babies usually cry in front of me so this is an improvement." he replied.

"Come on Matt, Jason's really nice if you give him a chance!" His father proclaimed. His trademark loudness making the doorframe shudder.

That was the other thing Danny didn't like about this red guy. He had already seen him twice before, when his Dad had taken him in to grab a few forgotten tools.

The first time the guy wore a red helmet. Everyone acted like he was dangerous and shouldn't be messed with. Even his dad was very respectful in his interactions with him.

The second time Danny had seen not Red Riding Hood, he didn't have his helmet on nor did he go by his previous name. Everyone at the garage treated him as if he was one of their own instead of the dominating presence he had been before. In fact, they acted as if "Jason" was a completely different person all together. It was quite strange to say the least. Though Danny wasn't sure he had a leg to stand on considering every time they were in public, his dad would call him "Matt".

Danny had fussed about it a few times but that didn't seem to have any effect. He had finally decided it was fine since he was at least still called "Danny" and "Danno" when they were home. Now though, thanks to this Jason guy, he was even being called that stupid name within his own house! Danny was quickly deciding he didn't like this weird bad ectoplasm guy at all.

@idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @overtherose @seraphinedemort

[ishcliff]

currently writing a thing about how ishmael and heathcliff parallel angela and roland, and god, i love how PJM writes platonic relationships so much. it feels extremely literary with a focus on the setting as a present entity between them and influencing their personalities and actions.

i always have found it fascinating that PJM does not confirm any pairings romantically. like, not even carmen and ayin are "canon" despite their relationship being one of the main factors of the presentation of lobotomy corporation. that matters a lot to me.

in addition, it's interesting how for the rare romantic relationships that do exist, their development as a couple is cut short. the only three canon romances are roland and angelica, tommy and merry, + xiao and lowell. angelica and lowell die, and tommy and merry... y'know. and then for 2/3rds of those couples, the story focuses on the platonic bonds *after* the loss of the romantic – roland finds a best friend in angela (as well as the game in general just taking place after angelica's death), and miris becomes xiao's sole grounding presence, and their mutual respect for each other is what drives xiao's character arc even more than the death of lowell.

in the project moon universe, romance is only ever used as a tool to explore the nature of intimacy in a setting hell-bent on destroying it. the platonic foundation of community and connections with others take priority – a simpler form of love and adoration. alternatively, the corruptive, deceitful kind gets explored as average people get drawn into the cults of personality that are difficult to resist.

i don't think anything written by PJM is fanservicey enough to be called shipbait, no matter the pairing. and i think moments like heathcliff saving ishmael and getting queequeg's ID were set up enough for me to predict it happening months before the canto released (evidence on this blog, but i was making these predictions even when hell's chicken was live). not because of ship/pairing bias, but because of the specific way project moon writes platonic relationships is being showcased strongly with ishmael and heathcliff.

library of ruina is one of my favorite games of all time, and it just rules seeing one of my favorite aspects of the game (the development between angela and roland) being reflected in my two favorite characters in limbus.

i genuinely haven't even shipped anything in project moon in the couple years i've been into the series, until my URL came on. but even more important than the ship, i just greatly value the spectrum of platonic love that project moon focuses on as a rule. i'm excited for how it'll inevitably develop in canto VI.

[retros-artandstuff]

i found these tallulah drawings from a few months ago while looking through my old journals. meant to post them but i never did so ur getting them now :D

tap for quality (or to see the full picture in some cases)

[pyroshrooms]

Starting a challenge called "Stop clicking on posts you've blacklisted you know they make you upset"

[tvrningout-a]

i'm creating a whole frikkin fantasy world with a conflict and everything, lord help me

[screamingshark]

Rem's death/memory will never fully, truly be about her, and that makes it one of the saddest deaths in trigun

[omgcatboi]

Kinda wanna put this under a readmore. But stuck on mobile. So this is just a lil reminder since it seems to need reminding.

If you want to recommend cishet fat men / FAs / feeders to me, dm me. I do not post any anons recommending ANY blogs that are not strictly pre OP trans folk. I have made it extensively clear in the past how I feel about us pre / no op trans people having NO God damn representation in any community ever, and because of this, I will ONLY give shout outs to pre / no op trans folk. To make my point perfectly blunt:

Name your five fav cishet / cis characters from major corporate media. Cool, I bet you could do that in 0.01 seconds.

Ok, now name one no op trans character from corporate media.

Exactly.

Case closed. I'm cool with recommendations of all kinds, but any that are not strictly pre or no op trans folk should be directed to DMS. I will not ever knowingly post a cishet recommendation to my followers. Because y'all get so much attention as a collective that the rest of us are practically Skelton's watching you gorge yourself on the representation you practically steal from us. Be tht intentional or not.

Feel free to send anons or asks recommending pre / no op blogs , idec if you rec yourself ! As long as you fit the criteria. I will space out these asks as I'm trying to incorporate less asks and more content to my blog. And when I post a recommendation, I want that person to have a chance to get a lil spot light, even if i don't have a great big following.

[pearl-kite]

Thinking about how calling people 'creators' instead of artists makes it easier to condemn dark subjects you don't like and call for what amounts to censorship.

You may not be able to handle a triggering subject in one art form or another, but that doesn't mean that it shouldn't exist.

[the1trueanon]

I CANNOT FOCUS

[celestialmaison]

cw: mentions of non-consensual sex, psychological abuse and dissociation in writing

please, for the love of every fucking thing that exists, CLEARLY AND DIRECTLY TAG NON-CONSENSUAL SEX, PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE AND DISSOCIATION IN YOUR WORK. i read smth today that was slapped with an explicit label and it had all 3 of these things with NO warning. i felt sick and deeply uncomfortable after reading this work. explicit does not mean ‘whatever i want and you can just deal with it’ it means ‘explicit’ as in ‘adult, mature, graphic descriptions of (x), etc.’

tag properly and add warnings in the notes. and do NOT be the asshole that ignores someone who comments and asks you to add a tag that should have been there from the beginning. adding an ‘unsettling’ tag is not enough, either. if you’re going to write something unsettling, tag it like it’s unsettling, not like it’s just two people having really hot sex. i don’t give a damn that it’s just fanfiction. fanfiction reflects the writer and is consumed by the reader. tag. your. works. appropriately.

[pacentia]

Title: Forever

Summary: After BG3 events, Astarion and reader feel ready for a child.

Pairing: established relationship fem!reader x Astarion

Tags: NSFW, rough sex, sweetness, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, bloodsucking, kissing, L-bombs

Word count: 1,704

Note: listen up folks. no idea if vampires thralls can make people pregnant. but in my world they can. Pls enjoy. i haven't finished the game, so this is my own fantasy after bg3 events:)). Drabble/fic/headcanon requests about our darling husband are welcome :))

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and eventually months into years, together with your darling Astarion. After the events of tadpoles, mindflayers and vampire masters, the time had come to settle down and live quietly, close to Baldur's gate city. Close enough for easy supply runs, yet far enough to enjoy the privacy of your very own house. Astarion was quick to realize he'd want no one else in his eternal life but you - and asked you - on one knee - to be his forever.

The wedding was held shortly after, with only a close circle of your friends present. Karlach shed a tear from happiness - knowing you two were destined to be together, while Halsin felt just… Bittersweet. Astarion wed a fine woman, although he was secretly convinced that an Druid like himself: alive, warm, and aging could take better care of your needs.

This was often also the subject of certain discussions that popped up in your marriage as you were reading in the garden, or drinking hot tea beside the hearthfire. Worries that washed over him about the coldness of his touch - or the eventual loss he would have to endure somewhere in the far future, when you would eventually lose the battle against time. You understood where his worries came from, but you were always there to comfort your darling husband. You possessed no interest in anyone's touch but his and you pledged to him that you'd always be present in his undead heart.

Of course, the latter made you interested in if his vampirism could be cured or, if you could transform into one. Yet, both choices were frustratingly impossible. Curing him would just mean ending him, heaven's forbid. Transforming yourself would mean serving another vampire lord, a fate that Astarion would never want you to experience.

Though tonight - nothing of that sort mattered and you found yourself intertwined in one another, the soft duvet covering your bare bodies. Your fingers played with his light-grey curls, while his arms were wrapped around your shoulders, ready for bed.

"Say, love," Astarion suddenly spoke up, "I heard you took care of a lost little girl in the city today."

Right. A young Tiefling girl had lost her mother inbetween the packed crowds of the city, and the girl came to you for help. How exactly did Astarion know that?

"Karlach told me of course." The vampire stated as a matter of fact. "She saw you and passed by this noon for tea." You nodded and explained the situation - how you held the little girl's hand right until you found her mother together. The woman thanked you over and over again.

A small silence fell between you two, until the man continued his stream of thoughts, "Karlach then asked me if we'd ever have children and I said that I didn't know what you would think of it and I -" Astarion's gaze avoided yours until he remembered he was probably rambling again, "Sorry love, I just wanted to know if you and I could have that sort of future together?"

Your heart fluttered at the thought of Astarion as a father. He'd definitely spoil his little ones and love them unconditionally.

"A little one to raise in our house." The pale man smiled, lost in his thoughts. "We already have a spare room that we could decorate for them."

Of course those thoughts had crossed your mind. It would be a new chapter in both of your lives, and you felt ready to take it on together with him. Behind his cheeky and often sarcastic banter, there was a sweet and caring man - only revealed to the closest ones he trusted.

"You know they'll be incredibly mischievous and stubborn, right?" You smirked up at him, to which the vampire quickly retaliated, "Darling, you wound me. Besides, that's why you're there to teach them kindness." Astarion sing-songed, nuzzling into your hair.

No hesitation was present in your words, '"Of course, Astarion. I want this with you." You smiled sweetly, gently guiding his cold digits over your belly, making your vampire husband rub it with such fondness.

Something within him stirred, yet another level of deeper protectiveness that he would soon feel over you. Any other man that would come too close to you, would feel his deadly fangs buried into their jugular. Rip them to shreds. Kill them in cold blood. In fact, it made him involuntarily bare his fangs to you, accompanied by a low growl reverberating in his chest.

You grinned at his primal reaction, and whispered as you caressed his chin, "Dear Sir, you know you can't drink anything from me when you've put your little one in me, right?"

He was taken by a frenzy, and rolled his heavy body over yours - his nose buried into your neck, inhaling the delicious smell of your perfect blood. His cock hardened at the thought of drinking from you, his icy tongue lapping over the countless bite marks that he'd decorated your neck with.

"I know, sweet love. Sadly, I'll have to return to …inferior blood." An adorable pout covered his beautiful features - which made your heart flutter.

"You should get to work then, my love." You whispered in his pointy ear, pressing small kisses along his cheekbone, and you wrapped your legs around his strong back. The vampire chuckled at your words, "Oh, darling." He groaned, elated to see you so eager to get bred by him. His hardness teased over your wet and warm folds, making himself slick before he'd slide home. His arms snaked under yours, to completely wrap himself around you protectively, burying his face into your neck. The intoxicating smell of your blood so close to his lips, made him lose control over his pace and bucked his strong core into yours, drenched cock sliding deep in your sex.

"Fuck, Astarion…" You gasped in pleasure, his large cock burying itself deep deep deep within your folds. The vampire watched your features contort into pure bliss, and bit his lips in return - until he was nestled as deep as possible.

"This is what you want, isn't it, my darling?" Astarion whispered, while you clawed at his back - sweet agony from his pressure on your cervix. His way with words was too much to bear. Icy lips found your ear again, dripping with sin, "Completely inside your warm, wet, delicious cunt."

You could only whimper Astarion and nod, your fingers buried in his soft curls, as his hips started to gently, slowly thrust inside you. His cock felt so perfect. Big, firm, as if he was carved just for you.

"Fuck, darling," Your husband growled, losing himself deep inside you, speeding up his pace, shifting his position so that he could hold onto your hips for leverage. His red eyes feasted on your body, the most beautiful creature he'd ever set his gaze on. He could hear your heart beating faster. Blood pumping through your veins. Cheeks flushed red. He was salivating for you.

"Please, Astarion…" You cried out in delicious agony, needy for him to grab and fuck you harder. Impregnate you. Show Faerûn that you completely belong to him.

"What is it, my love?" He growled with bared teeth, sounds of wet, sloppy thrusts filling the bedroom.

"Bite me once more." You begged, holding onto his strong shoulders, "Just one last time, please."

Yes. One more time he could have you. His sanguine hunger kicked in, and he couldn't restrain himself anymore, "Oh my, darling…" He moaned In relief, his thrusts never faltering, thanking you over and over again for your gift - until he set his fangs in your neck.

One last time that sharp, ice-cold feeling washed over your senses - unable to move or do anything. Delicious pain mixed with heavenly pleasure, both of your orgasms were nearing. No combination more delicious for your husband - your fresh blood spilling from his lips and your cunt wrapped tightly around him. Pleasure welled up inside of your belly, enduring your vampire's violent kiss - until you reached your peak while he drank from your neck.

His digits dug into the sheets, pupils dilated as he released from your neck in time, overcome with adrenaline and power.

"That's it, my darling…"

His thrusts became harder, faster - his bloody lips finding yours, tongue invading your mouth. You were absolutely spent already, having lost nearly two pints of your blood again - so you held onto him for dear life. The metallic taste of your blood made you nearly gag if he wasn't lapping it up off your lips like a hungered animal.

"Astarion, fuck… Make me fucking pregnant." You cried desperately against his lips, his big cock bumping against your cervix with each thrust. And like always, he delivered your plea - and with a deep and primal groan he reached his peak. "Fuck, oh - Fuck - darling!" He growled with bloody fangs, his crimson eyes rolling in the back of his head, jets of his release splattering right against your cervix. Filled up to the brim.

Sated with blood and pleasure, he collapsed on top of you, holding you dearly in the afterglow of your pleasure. Sweaty, bloody bodies pressed against each other. His face buried against the side of your neck, lapping remnants of your blood one last time.

"Can't get enough of it, can't you, sweet?" You grinned.

"Never, my love." He smiled against your flesh as his cold hand gently caressed your lower belly - hoping that his love would nestle itself deep inside of you tonight.

"I love you, Astarion."

"And I love you, my darling. Forever."

[patchworkgargoyle]

🩸 A Steddie Big Bang Fic 🌙

Chapter 6

story by: @patchworkgargoyle || art by: @mcdadarts || playlist to come by: @steves-strapcollection || beta'd by: @tboygareth Rating: E || Words: ~6k || CW: blood drinking, accidental to intentional voyeurism, mutual masturbation (kinda) || Full tag list on ao3! Fic title from Wolf Like Me - TV On The Radio We're getting into the spicy shit with Eddie's pov today, folks! Mind the content warnings.

The research crew lasted twenty minutes after Harrington left before they gave up studying. Dustin insisted they’d checked every single musty tome even vaguely related to werewolves already and found nothing, and sitting there going through them all again was a waste of valuable time.

What wasn’t a waste, apparently, was sitting in the Harrington’s living room and watching a recorded version of Grease, commercials and all. Not that it mattered, because the kids all talked over themselves during the whole movie anyway. Though, sometimes, Eleven (and Eddie had yet to have that name explained) stopped to sing along under her breath and it warmed Eddie’s cold, sluggish heart so much that he sang Greased Lightnin’ with her. He hoped that would save him from facing Max’s brutal wit being turned on him for being a metalhead singing to a damn musical.

These children that Steve surrounded himself with–or, from the stories Dustin had been telling, it sounded like they adopted him instead–were insanely brilliant and brave, and the way they talked about Steve now that he wasn’t around wasputting even more cracks in the walls Eddie had put up to keep Steve at a distance. Not that it’d been working well in the first place. Steve himself had smashed a hole through it when he offered Eddie his own blood (something Eddie did his level best to Not Think About), despite only knowing Eddie for a little over a week. But Dustin, Max, and El, all so much more like Eddie than Steve was in school, and yet here they were, describing how he’d stopped some kind of lost swamp creature from ruining a farmer’s field, and probably being killed for it, with nothing but his charm and a big bag of compost. What a big damn hero he was.

So, sue him if he’d been rethinking all of his Doctrine bullshit. Steve wasn’t King of Hawkins High anymore; he was grumpy on the mornings he had an early shift, he indulged Eddie’s long-winded ramblings, owned a terrifying amount of medieval weaponry, and he took care of his people. And Eddie had found himself temporarily counted amongst them. It chafed and made him feel special at the same time.

Sometimes he found himself sneaking around the gym attached to the monster hunter library while Steve–no, Harrington swung around all sorts of dangerous and spiky implements in a training regimen designed to put all his rippling muscles on very athletic display. Eddie told himself he was studying up. In the unlikely event that Harrington did turn on him, of course. It was the smart thing to do.

Eddie had zoned out thinking of said training when he heard a car door close outside. Snapped out of his daydream, Eddie's head twitched towards the noise, and when Max’s did too all the kids were on high alert.

“That’s not Steve and Robin,” Max warned.

Dustin looked at Eddie, wide-eyed, and Eddie felt his hands clench in the arm of the couch. “Maybe it’s one of your moms?” he suggested, but Max shook her head. “Fuck.”

“It’s fine, I’ll answer the door, people know me and Steve are like this,” Dustin wrapped his middle finger over his index, “so that shouldn’t give anything away. I’m here all the time!” His nonchalant shrug did nothing to conceal how his voice cracked nervously and Eddie’s confidence sank lower. “Y’know what, maybe they’re just turning around and won’t even knock–”

Three hesitant knocks echoed down the foyer and Dustin winced.

Max glared, unimpressed. “You jinxed it, moron.”

“Shut up!” he hissed. Waving his hands around like a manic conductor, Dustin made everyone sit in silence while he stared at the door. Eddie hoped this would work, just waiting the person out, but his hopes were dashed when they heard slightly more frantic rapping. “Shit. Alright. Time for Plan B. Eddie, prepare for Plan C.”

“What’s Plan C!?” Eddie whispered anxiously. He hid his face in his hands when Dustin copied Eddie’s Dracula pose from earlier. “No, no, absolutely not, Dustin. Wait, hey!”

The kid raced to the door when the knocking came back and Eddie flung himself to the floor to not risk being seen. The sound of the lock was all the warning he got before Dustin opened the door and: “Oh, um. Hi there, you’re Steve’s friend right?” Eddie knew that voice. “Is he here still?”

Eddie popped up over the couch. “Chris?”

She grinned and waved, so Eddie scrambled off the floor and ran to tug her inside, deftly avoiding the sunshine, then wrapped her in a tight hug. Seeing her was more of a relief than he’d thought. Being stuck in Steve’s house without his stuff, his friends, his uncle…

“Oh fuck, I forgot to leave a note for Wayne.”

Chrissy snort-laughed into his shirt. “He called me and I told him you were okay, but I had to make sure.” She stepped back. “You do look okay. Good, actually. Even though, uh,” she trailed off and saw Dustin standing at the closed door wiggling his eyebrows at Eddie.

He narrowed his eyes at Dustin and subtly shook his head, only getting an eye roll in return. “We’ll talk about that later, I think,” Eddie said. “In the meantime, wanna help me babysit?”

After introductions were made–and El made Chrissy giggle when she bluntly but admiringly stated, “You’re very pretty,”–and they’d all settled back in, Eddie found that Chrissy fit right in. Dustin was a little starstruck at first, which Eddie chalked up to the whole freshman nerd kid and senior cheerleader thing, but as soon as she started asking about the summer camp hat he wore he started infodumping like his life depended on it. Chrissy, used to listening to Eddie’s endless speeches, participated like a pro. The way Dustin’s grin kept growing made Eddie think she’d just earned a friend for life. Eventually Max peeled Dustin away from Chrissy with a few well-placed taunts so she and Eddie could catch up.

Chrissy’s life had been going along as normal, though she’d been keeping tabs on Jason just in case, she told Eddie. He wished that hadn’t made her wince with guilty regret, but they’d fought before over her relationship with him so badly once it nearly cost him their friendship, so he kept his opinion to himself. As far as she knew, though, Jason was acting normally.

Eddie had a little more to talk about. Gossiping about Steve with her was a relief; who knew he’d learn so much about the former King in just a few weeks of forced cohabitation?

“You know, he mumbles to himself,” Eddie said, ignoring that he was also mumbling. “He’ll mumble and when I try to talk back he gets in a little snit and says ‘I wasn’t talking to you!’” Chrissy giggled at his very poor impression of Steve’s voice. “What does he expect me to do? He asks himself questions and I answer and he gets all bitchy at me. But I can’t win, because, get this, he’ll bitch at me again when I don’t respond because he’s mumbling in the same damn tone!”

Eyes sparkling with mirth, Chrissy covered her smile with a hand, her knees tucked up to her chest on the couch. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” she teased.

“I don’t like your tone,” Eddie said, eyes narrowed. Her smile grew wider behind her hand, and when she raised an eyebrow he folded his arms. “Don’t get any ideas, Cunningham.”

“No, nope, no ideas.”

He glared at her for a few more seconds before a song came on over the TV that jogged his memory and he pointed at the screen. “And you know what else he does? He sings. Into objects. Like his hairdryer, straight out of the movies like a weirdo!”

A loud snort caught his attention and Eddie’s gaze snapped to Max who was watching Eddie from the corner of her eyes with a smug, knowing expression. He felt like a deer in headlights suddenly, until Max rolled her eyes and went back to talking to El and Dustin.

“Despite all that, looks like you’re doing pretty well here. And you don’t seem, um, thirsty.” She whispered the last word with a curious quirk to her brow, and Eddie shrugged.

“Got it covered, the last time. You don’t need to worry about me so much, Chris, you’ve got your own stuff to handle.”

“Yeah, okay, my best friend being framed for murder isn’t something to worry about,” she said, rolling her eyes before turning sombre. “Eddie, I’m gonna worry until you’re safe. I hate that I can’t do anything about it.”

Eddie shifted in his seat. He was always uncomfortable with people worrying over him, but it’s not like she was wrong. This was serious, the worst scrape he’d ever been in and he didn’t even know why it was happening in the first place. Dragging a hand down his face, he heaved a sigh and looked down at the floor. “Sorry, Chris. You’re doing enough just by being here.”

Her mouth pursed unhappily, but before she could say anything more, car doors slammed outside once again and Max perked up.

“Steve’s home.”

Before he could react, the door flung open and Steve stood there, his eyes darting across the group. When he caught sight of Chrissy, he sagged. Robin, right behind him, looked ready to fight until she also saw that everyone was fine.

Eddie tracked Steve as he trudged up the stairs without a word. He was smeared all over with dirt, his face grim and tense, but the walkway above obscured him from view before Eddie could get a better read on him. Robin drifted into the living room and curled up into the one empty chair, almost swallowed by the plush cushions. Dustin got up and switched the TV off.

“What happened?” he asked.

“‘Nother werewolf,” Robin said quietly, and the words spread like a shockwave through all of them.

So, Dustin’s plan had worked. The killer struck again, proving that Eddie was innocent, but also that there was someone with a vendetta against werewolves. Steve must’ve had to bury the body too, and that made Eddie’s stomach drop to his feet. With a glance up, he saw Max looking more stormy than usual. She, Robin, and Steve were all in danger, then, more so than Eddie himself was, in his opinion, and now he really understood how Chrissy felt. How could he help them, stuck in this house, unable to go out in the daytime, waiting for the killer’s next move? His hands started to shake, whether it was with fear or anger he couldn’t tell, but he stuck them under his armpits and squeezed, ignoring the way his jaw tensed and his leg started to bounce.

“I’m so sorry, Robin,” Chrissy whispered, and Robin’s head snapped up like she didn’t even realise Chrissy was there, her eyes going wide.

Robin nodded, her surprise quickly eaten away by dread and she murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Were there any new clues?” Dustin asked with an unusual amount of respect.

“Steve and Hopper didn’t find anything, but Jason Carver showed up and said some things. Steve could tell it better but, uh, he should rest. This was… hard on him.”

“Jason?” Chrissy frowned.

“Yeah, I dunno, something about finding the body first but Steve didn’t really wanna talk about it. I think, maybe, we should talk about it in a day or something.” Robin fidgeted with her rings, looking from Chrissy to upstairs to the floor.

Eddie’s eyes were drawn to the upper floor where he could still faintly hear Steve’s heartbeat, the occasional foot fall, like he was pacing but trying to be quiet about it. His lips pursed into a thin, worried line.

“He didn’t tell you anything?” Dustin asked.

Robin gave him an unexpectedly angry look, so Eddie jumped in. “Dustin, man, you’ve been researching all day, give it a break alright?”

“But–”

“Push it and I’ll tell Jeff to kill off your beloved little warlock next session.”

Dustin’s eyes narrowed, but Eddie’s serious tone must’ve gotten through to him because all he did was huff and cross his arms.

“Maybe we should go,” El said, looking upstairs now too.

“I can’t drive, and Eddie can’t until tonight.”

“Shouldn’t leave at all, probably,” Eddie added dourly.

“I can drive you.” Everyone turned to Chrissy. “I’ve got my mom’s station wagon. It’s no trouble.”

Eddie nudged Chrissy with his knee. “You sure you wanna handle these gremlins?” he teased.

“I’ll keep him in line,” Max smirked while Dustin pouted.

Dustin crossed his arms and tilted his head back imperiously. “Eddie said grem-lins, plural, Maxine.”

“You’re pushing it, nerd.”

Robin stood in a sudden flurry of movement. “Okay! Better get all of you gremlins home before Chrissy decides to take back her very generous offer. Come on, shoes on, chop chop!” She clapped her hands in a way that Eddie intrinsically knew came from Steve, and the kids all stood and started towards the door for their shoes.

El, though, stopped beside Eddie. “Can you thank Steve for having us over for us please?” She said it so seriously, so earnestly, that Eddie swore his heart grew two sizes.

“Of course kiddo.” He reached out and ruffled her long hair, and she giggled while leaning away.

When Chrissy got up to leave, Eddie joined her, wrapping her in another hug before she left. “Thanks for taking everyone home.”

She shrugged. “It’s something I can do, at least. And, well, maybe Robin can tell me a little more about what Steve might’ve said about Jason. I’m… I’m really worried, Eddie.”

“I know Chris. I’m sorry.” He squeezed her a little tighter. “We’ll figure it out.”

With the brats corralled, Eddie waved them off from the shade of the doorway. Robin gave him a short, awkward wave, a blush over her cheeks when Chrissy put her hand on the back of her seat to back out of the driveway, and Eddie filed that away for another time. Then he shut the door against the sunlight and returned to the now eerily silent house.

It was something he noticed the longer he stayed here. When Steve was away at work, Eddie left to his own devices, all he had to do was read the books he’d brought, maybe snoop around for some others, plunk away at his guitar and fill the silence with the old records that the Harringtons left to collect dust. But even with the music playing, the house seemed to absorb noise, like a museum. And there were barely any signs of life, except for the occasional bit of mess that Steve left around when he ran out of time in the mornings. Everything that Steve left alone: the whole dining room, entire guest rooms, even the hallways seemed to eat noise and repel clutter that showed anyone lived there, even Steve.

Eddie had, admittedly, snuck into Steve’s room once or twice. He’d left the door open, what was a curious, bored vampire expected to do? There, thankfully, was some personality, though the awful plaid wallpaper did its best to drown it out. The messed up bed that Steve couldn’t be bothered to fix up, a few clothes scattered by his hamper, some magazines–sports, mostly, and some gossip mags, to Eddie’s disappointment–piled on his nightstand. He didn’t bother poking around in any drawers, didn’t want to risk moving too much in case Steve caught on and got miffed.

What did Steve even do in this house all alone? What did he do before he had to cohabitate with Eddie, who, he would readily and sometimes proudly admit about himself, was a rather irritating guest at times. Eddie kinda hated thinking about it too hard.

But right now, the silence was disturbed, just barely. Eddie could still hear the pacing above.

He was torn. Something in Eddie wanted to check on him, but Steve hadn’t come down to even speak to the kids. He would’ve heard them leaving. Would he even want the nosy freeloader in his house knocking at his door?

His feet started to move towards the stairs before he even decided. Each stair he climbed, he tried convincing himself that he was just heading to his own room–not his room, the guest room, nothing in this place was his, jesus–but he passed the door that he should have stopped at. Kept going to the end of the hall, and the pacing stopped.

“Hey, uh, Steve?” Eddie knocked on the doorframe, even though it was completely unnecessary. “You alright in there?”

No response. Eddie could hear Steve’s heart, racing too fast to be mistaken for calm. A few seconds passed. A few more.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbled. Turning, he was about to walk back to his room when the door opened.

“It’s fine.”

Steve had one hand on the door, the other hanging limp at his side. He was still covered in dirt; smelled like it too, fresh soil and sweat, and something distinctly off and Eddie had to fight wrinkling his nose at. It made Steve look pale, and Eddie felt that was wrong. Steve was built for the sun, for being golden, he shouldn’t look pale.

“You should shower, dude,” Eddie said, trying to a rueful smile, but the humour didn’t land. Steve just shrugged it off.

“I guess. I will.” He turned and wandered back into his room, leaving the door open, and Eddie couldn’t find a reason not to follow. It felt enough like an invitation. Walking in, he tried to make it seem like he was seeing the bedroom for the first time, but Steve scoffed.

“I know you’ve been in here, Eddie, I could smell you in here when I got home once, you don’t have to put on an act.”

Eddie stiffened. “Oh. Uh. Sorry dude.”

“Whatever. I kind of expected it.”

“That’s a lot of trust you’re placing in the resident drug dealer.”

Steve shot him an unimpressed look. “You sell weed, Eddie,” he said flatly. Wobbling his head, Eddie mouthed the words back at Steve silently, mockingly, which finally drew a tired laugh from him. It wasn’t the kind of laughter he could get after verbally tearing Frank Sinatra to shreds while they got high on the living room floor, but it was good enough. The sound didn’t last, though, fading like every other sound in this fucking house, leaving a gaping silence where they both stood awkwardly, a few scant feet between them.

Eddie shifted on his feet, stuck his hands in his pockets then took them out and folded his arms over his chest. Meanwhile, he watched Steve, who couldn’t look up from the carpet. “You probably don’t want me lingering around in your domicile, so I’ll just–”

“Are you thirsty?”

Now that, that rang out through the room. “What?”

“You spent all day around the kids, and you haven’t fed since, uh, since last time when everyone was around.” Steve finally looked up from the carpet, something burning in his eyes.

“Nah, I’m fine, pretty good actually,” Eddie stumbled out.

“You said you fed from Chrissy every few days though.”

Truth was, Eddie was hungry. It was sort of an ever-present thing, though easy to manage once he’d learned how to sate it in a way that actually satisfied him. And yeah, it had been a few days since he’d bitten Steve’s wrist, but the way Steve acted around him the next day–flighty and awkward, not sticking around in the same room too long–made Eddie less than inclined to ask for more.

“I can deal, Harrington, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.” Steve started walking closer. There was a determination, a heat, in his gaze that made Eddie feel a little warm and jumpy, and he started backing up. “You should be in peak condition if something happens. And I–”

Steve reached out behind Eddie and closed the door, Eddie having to back up against it, trapping them both in the horribly plaid room that Eddie couldn’t even see, because Steve was right there, in his space, so close Eddie could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Steve’s arm was still outstretched, hand pressed against the door by Eddie’s head.

“I want you to.”

Heat flashed under Eddie’s skin, his sluggish heart beating faster. “What the fuck do you mean, man?”

“I mean.” Steve ran a head through his hair, messing it up worse, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “It makes me feel good–better. The bite. And, you gotta drink, so it’s like. Win-win or whatever.”

“Win-win?” Eddie said, high and nervy, “The hell? How does it make you feel good?”

“Just, please?”

His voice sent a lance of desire and hunger through Eddie’s spine. Steve’s face looked haggard, dirt caked into every worryline, but something burned in his eyes, something needy, and he was so fucking close they were sharing breath. Eddie could see the blood coursing through his neck, the artery so close to the skin, and he must’ve stared long enough, hesitated enough, that it spurred Steve on. He deliberately pulled down the collar of his shirt and tilted his head to the side, baring his long, freckled neck to Eddie.

That desperate, unnatural hunger that had haunted Eddie since he woke up on a cold forest floor in Chrissy’s arms, ever-present and voracious, grew like arousal in Eddie’s gut. Saliva pooled under his tongue and, unbidden, his teeth began to elongate as his gaze locked onto that pulsing rush tantalisingly close to his face. The longer he looked, the faster Steve’s heart raced, the more tempting he was, the warm scent of his heightened emotions wafting into the air like wine and pulling Eddie closer.

Just a taste, he promised himself. 

Eddie let one of his hands wrap around the back of Steve’s neck, fingers threading through his soft hair, while he grabbed the hand Steve was using to hold the shirt down, pulling it further out of the way. One last glance at Steve’s face, and Eddie saw his eyes had gone heavy-lidded, his mouth dropping open just slightly when Steve caught sight of Eddie’s fangs. Cocking one eyebrow, he tilted his head further, into Eddie’s waiting palm, trusting he’d be held, and Eddie couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

He surged forward, and bit into Steve’s neck. The first gush of rich, metallic blood made Eddie groan and Steve gasp. Instinct made Eddie bite harder, deeper, his teeth sinking without resistance into flesh and muscle.  Eddie’s fingers clenched where they held Steve, pressing him flush against his own body. Steve didn’t even flinch, seeming to arch into the touch, panting. His skin flushed; Eddie could feel the flood of warmth down Steve’s neck from his face as it bloomed against Eddie’s cheek.

Feeling bold and ravenous, Eddie withdrew from Steve’s neck to manhandle him against the door instead, slamming him against it with a bang and pressing against the long line of his body before licking up the rivulets dripping from the punctures. The soft oh he drew from Steve felt as intoxicating as his blood. Clinging to Steve like he was, Eddie didn’t feel his hands move until Steve’s fingers dug into his side, keeping Eddie close.

Steve’s free hand clutched Eddie’s, the one resting on the unmarred side of his neck, twining their fingers together and squeezing, and Eddie’s breath hitched as he squeezed back. He laved the flat of his tongue over the wounds before pressing his lips around them in an open-mouthed kiss and sucked, drawing a fresh flood to the surface. The taste was fucking addictive. Something lurked in Steve’s blood that made the most base, monstrous parts of Eddie sing and snarl with greed, something heated and needy.

It clicked, when Steve’s hand roved down. Grabbed Eddie’s ass though his jeans to hold him still while Steve rocked his hips up, his hard dick brushing against Eddie’s own and making them both moan. And oh shit, Eddie was so hard it was painful.

That taste was desire, hormone-spiked blood, more potent than any drug or liquor Eddie’s ever had. The instant he placed it, he knew he wanted more. More blood, more of Steve. He met the next roll of hips with a reedy whimper, muffled against Steve’s neck as he still drank deeply of that heady taste, let Steve’s hand guide him this time, enjoying the thrill of being led. Until.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Steve groaned, low but loud in Eddie’s ear, and reality crashed down around him.

Eddie shoved himself off of Steve, ripping himself out of his grasp and pressing the back of his hand to his blood-stained mouth. Wide, panicked eyes met Steve’s, still heavy-lidded and dark but growing confused. God, what a vision he was as he leaned against the door, gasping for breath and hard in his jeans, flushed deliciously red despite being drank from like a fucking juice box. It was… it was terrifying. Fear sparked and caught in Eddie’s chest. What the fuck was he thinking!?

Brows furrowed, Steve stepped forward. “Eddie? What is it?”

“Shit.”

Eddie bolted. Dodged past Steve, whipped the door open and ran to the guest room as fast as his unnatural speed let him. He slammed the door behind himself and braced against it, scared that Steve would try to bust it down as soon as he came to his senses. And he would. There was no fucking way Eddie could get away with that.

He knew his bite did something. Chrissy had tried to do research for him, but couldn’t find much without Jason catching on, but she’d told him the bite makes prey less likely to fight back. But she’d only ever relaxed, like getting high, not–not like Steve trying to rub one out on him. Not like moaning Eddie’s name while they were so close together Eddie could still feel how it rumbled in his own chest.

Anxiously, Eddie licked his lips and only tasted Steve, wincing at how that made his cock throb against his zipper. “Shit,” he whispered shakily. A manic laugh threatened to bubble up but he swallowed it back.

That was so stupid. All of it. He should’ve realised as soon as Steve asked to be bitten again that something wasn’t normal about this and put a stop to it. Could’ve called Chrissy; she was coming by tomorrow anyway. Now he had to worry about Steve kicking him out and forcing him to walk home with the murderer still at large. The one who fucking framed him, for a reason none of them have discovered yet. He let his head fall back against the door with a hollow thud, and waited.

Minutes passed, then hours. The sun began to set, and Eddie found himself anxiously pacing around the room, packing his duffel bag then unpacking it, his clothes strewn out of it like a racoon had rifled through them all and found his wardrobe lacking. Yet through his own chaos, Eddie couldn’t stop himself from keeping an ear out for Steve.

He hadn’t left his room, not once. Sometimes he paced, and Eddie caught the occasional frustrated huff. When Steve’s habit of talking to himself kicked in, Eddie resolutely ignored it–meaning, of course, that he listened anyway but felt deeply guilty about it. But nothing he heard made any logical sense. “What did I do?” spat as a frustrated whisper was the most baffling, but Eddie refused to contemplate that it might mean anything other than Steve wondering how he’d gotten suckered into bumping clothed uglies with The Freak.

So Eddie paced and unpacked and re-packed and stewed over the countless stupid life choices he’d made to bring him to this moment until the sun was well beyond the horizon and his hair was a frizzy mess with how often he’d been digging his fingers into it. The carpet, shockingly, didn’t show a single dent with all the trudging around he’d done.

Simultaneously wiped out and still wound up, Eddie flopped onto the bed with an explosive sigh and slapped his palms over his face, grunting loudly. If Steve was debating whether he would kick Eddie out or not, he’d rather Steve get on with it and put him out of his misery before the sun came up. He didn’t want to burn to a crisp before he got to see Wayne again.

“Fuck it,” came another irritated whisper from Steve’s room. Eddie braced himself for stomping down the hall, for Steve ripping the door open, furious, demanding that Eddie leave. Instead, he heard bed springs squeak. It took little effort for him to listen closer, frowning in confusion.

Then, Eddie heard the quiet zip of jeans being undone, and shuffling. A relieved sigh.

What?

Was Steve doing what Eddie thought he was doing? There was no way. No fucking way. Sure, Eddie had been staving off the raging hormones he’d drank straight from Steve’s veins all night with little success, hoping he’d burn through them with his pacing and ignoring how he’d been half-hard for most of it. Steve had to have crashed from the high by now.

And yet. There was a hitched breath from behind the two doors separating them. Eddie swallowed, and dragged his hands down his face, letting them flop to his sides. This might be Steve’s home, but did he really have to do this now?

Eddie didn’t even want to admit what had happened, not that it helped. With Steve apparently jerking it just down the hall, though, the images rose unbidden behind Eddie’s scrunched eyelids anyway. How the blood flowed slowly over the tendon in Steve’s neck to pool in the divot between his collarbones, the dark desire in his blown-out pupils. The way Steve’s fingers dug into the meat of Eddie’s ass to pull him where Steve wanted, right against his cock.

The sound of Eddie’s name in Steve’s mouth as his lips brushed Eddie’s ear.

He swore soundlessly. Wriggling a little and hissing at the growing tightness in his pants, Eddie sent up prayers to whatever deity was listening to make him Not Horny. No thoughts of old people or relatives or complex dungeon traps could take his mind, or his hearing, off of Steve masturbating quietly just a few feet away. Didn’t he realise that Eddie could hear him? Steve wasn’t the only one with super hearing. It was rude, and terrible hosting behaviour, and–

Steve moaned softly, though it cut off like he knew he might be heard–too fucking late for that–and Eddie wanted to scream in frustration so badly he clamped his hand over his mouth. His dick throbbed, though, at the new sounds echoing his way. Wet, slick sounds.

Fuck. Swallowing down a wave of guilt, Eddie let his hand trail over the bedspread, along his hip, and cupped his dick through his jeans with a shuddery sigh. He bit his lips together to make sure no noises escaped as he squeezed himself. It’d been too long. Out of respect to his werewolf host, he’d hadn’t rubbed one out the whole time he’d been at Steve’s. Steve, apparently, had no such reservations. So…

So why not? Why the hell not. Eddie undid his fly and quietly as he could slipped his cock out, already hard, the tip flushed red. He couldn’t help remembering that he had Steve’s blood in his body now. How he’d tasted. Breathing heavily, Eddie stroked himself, thinking of the way Steve’s plush lips parted, the fire in his eyes as he begged Eddie to bite him… how big his cock felt, though it was trapped in his jeans.

The familiar weight of his own cock twitched in his hand, a spurt of precome dripping down, slicking the way. He could hear how Steve’s heart rate picked up now that he’d given up trying not to listen; now that it, too, had become familiar.

Steve made another sound. A groan, deep in his chest. Eddie’s mouth dropped open with a harsh sigh. He was so fucking turned on. The taboo of listening to Steve get off, jacking off to it, praying Steve couldn’t hear him too, made that frisson under his skin rise and burn so fast Eddie started to feel breathless, wound tight.

He stroked himself faster, hips canting up into his grip, desperate to chase the feeling as he imagined how Steve looked sprawled on his bed with his massive hand wrapped around his cock. Eddie couldn’t help wondering what it’d feel like to have Steve’s hand replace his own and that image made him clamp his mouth shut around a quiet whimper. 

Eddie heard Steve swear again, his voice going a little higher, and Eddie found himself nodding, like the other man could see him. He wanted to be seen. Wanted Steve to rush in, see him furiously pumping his dick and know exactly what got him here. Maybe he’d crowd Eddie against the bed and start to take him apart with his long fingers, grind their cocks together, fuck his way inside as they kissed all heated and dirty and chant Eddie’s name–

Steve moaned, then, quiet enough that Eddie almost missed what he said.

“Eddie.”

Shock forced a desperate whine out of Eddie’s throat before he choked it off with a gasp. Oh shit. Oh shit. He froze, could tell Steve had too. Steve heard him. He knew. He felt his heart in his throat, thundering away.

Until he heard it again. A tentative, “Eddie?” from down the hall. Confirming he’d been caught. Why didn’t Steve sound pissed?

There was the distinct click of a cap being opened. Still frozen, Eddie couldn’t believe his ears when he heard Steve start up again, jerking himself off slower now, the sounds slicker, wetter. He… he knew Eddie was listening, could easily guess why Eddie had fucking whined like that, and he was still…

God. Fuck. Oh fuck that was hot. And terrifying. How the hell was this even happening!?

Steve keened, loudly, and Eddie cursed as his hips bucked helplessly into the hand still wrapped around his aching cock. This was insane, absolutely nuts; Eddie had never even thought of something like this despite his expansive and wildly horny imagination. But he followed suit and started fucking into his fist, fast and filthy, past the point of caring that Steve could hear the bed creaking slightly with his movements.

And then Steve did it again. “Fuck, Eddie,” he moaned. Deliberately. Eddie couldn’t hold back the needy cry that rose from his throat, muffled as he bit his lip against the growing pleasure sparking along his nerves. He was gonna come, quickly, felt it barreling closer like a freight train. Steve wasn’t holding back his sounds anymore either, every gasp and groan unconcealed, stroking his cock without any fucking shame.

Eddie was shaking, panting hard, losing his rhythm. Thoughtlessly he started to beg, “Please, please please please.”

“Shit, yeah, do it, c’mon Eddie,” Steve urged, “gonna come too, oh shit!”

Fireworks exploded behind his eyes. Every muscle in Eddie’s body seized as he came, whining so fucking loud as he spilled over his fingers, cum splattering his shirt and soaking in warm and sticky, cock pulsing hard when he heard Steve cry out, a satisfied, guttural thing. Gasping for breath, Eddie went limp on the bed, his mind empty of all thought except for the way Steve moaned his name, how he sounded when he came.

There was no more movement from Steve’s room. Eddie could hear him in there, his breathing evening out along with his heartbeat, but he didn’t get up.

Was he waiting for Eddie? There was no way he’d go over there himself. He was still processing the everything that just happened. What if Steve had still been affected by the bite, and now that he’d gotten it out of his system he regretted literally jacking off with Eddie? More or less.

Eddie’s anxieties swirled through his mind until morning. Steve didn’t leave his room once.

[deejadabbles]

The right parts (Tech x Reader) Western AU

Summary: You have been Pabu Creek's blacksmith for a long while, a fact that the local inventor, Tech, appreciated, since you were more than capable of making his custom parts.

Wild West AU with a gender neutral reader. No warnings, just sweet, awkward Tech, and first-kiss cuteness.

A.N: I've been seeing western AU stuff for the bad batch for a while, but I directly credit @emperor-palpaminty for this, as falling into their western au tag really got me inspired ❤️

If you wanna read more headcanons I have for my take on this AU, I have some here, and this might become a series of oneshots. Also, this has a bit of a steampunk-y vibe, hope you don't mind!

Most in town avoided the workshop. They were put off by the strange bangs and pops and hisses that rang behind those barn doors at every hour. Tech was treated...well enough by the town folk, but most would admit they were more put off by him than the other boys in his family.

Mostly, they just didn't understand him, his ramblings and rantings. They could admire Hunter and Wrecker's strength, Rex and Echo's veteran past, but Tech's mind? All those lofty textbooks and strange contraptions?

It was all just a bit much for the average person.

Still, most knew and appreciated how much their little town had benefited from Tech. His knowledge and inventions had helped many of them, just as much as the crops his brothers grew and the protection his cousins offered. And they appreciated it nonetheless.

But what they appreciated just as much, was the fact that you were one of the only persons willing to brave the infamous workshop.

Your satchel was hefty today, clinking with Tech's newest order, and you adjusted it on your shoulder as you lifted your fist to knock on the iron-braced door.

There was a metallic clatter on the other side, a muffled curse, and the shuffle of feet. In a groan of hinges the door opened, and there was Tech. Soot smeared across his cheek and forehead, sleeves rolled up well past his elbows, and glasses askew.

It was a true testament to how fond he was of you, that a small smile lifted his lips when his eyes met yours.

"Perfect timing," he greeted, eyes darting down to the bag resting on your hip.

Leaving the door wide open, Tech quickly turned and headed back into the depths of his workshop, knowing you would follow.

"Evening to you too," you smirked, stepping in after him.

As you shut the door behind you, you lifted your satchel off your shoulder, relishing the lifted weight. Tech's main set of workbenches (yes, set, not one simple table) sat along the adjoining wall, with blueprints, scribbled notes, broken parts, and tools scattered atop every surface. There was a clear space directly in front of where Tech stood, and that's where you set his order.

He untied the strap with care and tilted the bag so its contents rolled out with ease. The hum of approval that followed made your skin tingle just a little.

"Yes, yes," Tech muttered, lifting the first piece of metalwork to the light shining through the window, "these are just as I hoped. Exquisite work, as always." He looked over at you then, adjusting his glasses, "Then again, I expect nothing less from talent such as yours."

Your face was burning at the compliment, mouth dry even as you gave him a smile of your own. "Well, your sketches are always easy to work with," you said, reaching for the papers tucked into your vest pocket.

Tech repeatedly expressed how thankful he was that the town blacksmith was versatile in their work, as he always seemed to need custom parts for whatever machine he was working on at the moment. You were always happy to oblige, welcoming the challenge and change of pace. One could only make so many nails and horseshoes before they got bored.

While you tossed his latest specs back onto the pile of design sketches, Tech completed his examination of your work. Then, he slid off his round spectacles and grabbed his goggles, another piece of your handywork.

"As I said, your timing could not have been better, my dear," he tightened the strap, "as I'm a hair away from completing my latest project.

"Do you need any help?"

He paused as he reached for his tool set, "Oh, I- yes!" he cleared his throat, "If you don't have anything else pressing to attend to, an extra set of hands would be appreciated."

You waved your hand at the rest of the open building, "Lead the way."

Tech had, many projects. Some with thick layers of dust, some in several pieces, others he came back to often. To the untrained eye, it all looked like piles of junk, but you had been in here enough over the years that you recognized that it was just a result of Tech hyperactive mind. He had trouble staying on one project for long, though sometimes, like this current machine, he managed it.

After leading you to the very back of the barn-like building, Tech set down his toolbox beside the strange contraption. For lack of a better comparison, you likened its shape to a metal bull of sorts, with thin wheels for legs and a large opening where its head might have been. Though, if Tech heard you collating it to an animal, he'd probably raise a confused brow. He cared little for aesthetics, after all.

"If you could hold this," Tech cut through your musings, holding up a paneled section of the machine's side.

You took it from him, holding it up on its hinges so he could all but climb inside.

"Ah, now I get it," you smiled seeing what part he was working on, "you're trying to increase the pressure."

"Precisely, there was too much steam loss, which resulted in slower forward motion, which itself resulted in the wheels getting caught on every minor obstruction in its path."

You let him ramble on as he tinkered with this, adjusted that, working your new parts in one at a time. He did use your hands, asking you to press down on one thing, hold another in place, it all made the process faster.

When he was done there, Tech threw open the barn doors in front of the machine, giving it somewhere to go when he as he ran his final test. Then, he asked you to help him load the fuel source to start that test run. The thing seemed to roar to life the moment it had its food, and the gears Tech had commissioned from your last week began to turn- before stalling almost instantly.

"Oh no no no no!" Tech ran his fingers through the tight curls of his hair as he looked about, "That should have worked! Why isn't it working!?"

"Tech," you grabbed his arm and pointed to the ceiling, "you still have it chained up!"

His eyes went wide as he looked at his suspension rig, which he often used to lift machines for easier alterations. Without a word, he leapt onto the would-be bull, climbing onto its back and began working at the chains, worried something would break from the strain.

The moment the machine was free it lurked forward, gears cranking and turning- and throwing Tech off its back as it took off. Your heart leapt into your throat as he came soaring down, and your arms flew open without another thought.

With a great thud, Tech's body collided with your own, sending you both tumbling down to the dirt floor. You could smell the coal and tang of metal that clung to Tech like a cologne, being that he was laying right on top of you. He drew in a shaky breath, nose brushing against your cheek as he propped himself up on his elbow, which also just so happened to be on either side of your head.

He fixed his goggles, which had gone askew, and blinked down at you, "My apologies," he breathed, "I did not mean to-"

"Tech," you cut him off, cupping your hands on his face so you could turn it in the direction of the doors, "it works, your machine works!"

Indeed, the large contraption was grinding and lurching down the open field surrounding his workshop with great power. He let out a laugh, turning his head back to you.

"It does indeed! This is wonderful, Wrecker's next harvest will go much more smoothly now."

You were sure the way you smiled up at him was soft, too soft to be just a friendly smile, but you didn't stop yourself from saying, in an equally gentle tone, "Your brilliant mind never ceases to amaze me."

You saw him draw in a sharp breath, and thought something in his eyes...shifted. "And you, my darling, never cease to amaze me with your handiwork." Was he..was he leaning in closer to you? "Not many people can understand me, and you always do so without fail."

His eyes were half-lidded now, as he placed one of his hands over yours, which was still holding his face. You couldn't help but hold your breath as he just looked down at you, thumb caressing the back of your hand.

"Your palms, they're...rough," he whispered rather absent-mindedly.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, "So are yours," you grumbled back, and watched his eyes widen.

"Oh! No, I like them- your hands, I mean. I like that they're rough."

This time your eyes held interest, and you leaned up ever so slightly, "You do, do you?"

He gulped and this time, you knew he was moving closer to you, "Yes, very much so. I dare say, I love everything about you, my sweet."

And then his lips were on yours.

They were chapped but moved with an unexpected grace. The hand that had been placed over yours moved to cup your cheek. You responded in kind, taking your own hands and sliding them back to curl into his hair. He let out a moan, a moan that caught in his throat when you tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

It was then that you were fully reminded of the fact that he was laying atop you. His leg moved seemingly of its own accord, pressing between your thighs in a way that had your chest stirring with something new.

Unfortunately, a sound echoed from across the field, and you pulled yourself out of your heated haze long enough to pull back just a little. Tech was not discouraged, his mind fixated on the task before him, and he simply moved his mouth to your jawline.

"T-Tech," you all but moaned, and the deep hum he gave in response had your mind spinning. He must like it when you say his name. "We- need to go catch your machine."

His breath was hot against your ear as he nuzzled your skin, "Do we have to, my dear? I am far more intrigued by my current project."

You didn't have time to unpack whether or not you liked being called his project, because you were untangling your finger from his curls to gently push on his chest.

"We can always continue this later, mr beautiful mind, but for now, I'm pretty sure that thing is heading for Cid's saloon."

Again, Tech's eyes went wide, any aforementioned lust vanishing. "Oh, dear!"

[thechaseofspades]

DT17 Anniversary Posting

So I've heard around the cafeteria that there's a theme for today centered around people's favorite episodes. Well, I don't have [a] favorite episode. But I can narrow it down to 1 per season, so let's go with that.

(P.S. if you were tagged in this post it's because I gave you cool people a shoutout at the end.)

S1: The Last Crash of the Sunchaser!

When I first watched this show, this episode was the one where I realized things were serious. This wasn't just a funny duck show. It's definitely still funny and a duck show, but it's so much more than that.

On Disney+, this episode comes right after Lena is possessed by Magica, so my mind was 100% on that heading in. Instead, we got the resolution to Dewey's arc and the mystery of Della Duck... or so we thought!

Sure, we found out Della's fate, but that was almost secondary to the family drama, especially between Dewey and Scrooge. It's very intense, and even when we get the answers we're looking for, the questions all change.

I don't need to explain why this episode is good. It just is. The fact that I picked this episode, and not a Lena-centric one, shows how good it is.

S2: A Nightmare on Killmotor Hill!

Alright fine. One Lena episode.

After Lena was brought back in "Friendship Hates Magic!", the question was, where do we go from here? I think they handled it very well, integrating her back into the kids' friend group while still letting the effects of Magica's abuse linger on.

I really enjoy the idea of characters' dreams showing their deepest fears and desires. The kind of stuff they would otherwise stash away when they're awake. This episode took that concept and sprinted with it.

I still think we ought to have had more sleepover episodes with all of the kiddos. When everybody is fighting for screen time in Season 3, this episode shows how you can balance several characters at once, even if Lena was the one getting the majority of the attention. The "Swanstantine" episode is another good example of this.

I mean, come on. We got Webby dressing herself up as Scrooge McDuck as soon as she realized she could do whatever she wanted. It was foreshadowed from the beginning!

S3: Astro B.O.Y.D.!

I've talked about this one before. It's one of my favorite pieces of autism rep. Boyd's journey in this episode really resonated, as well as his relationship with Huey.

In my opinion, the best part about it is how Huey relates to Boyd. Specifically not because he's a robot, but how Huey sees him as just a kid, just like him. The robot part is more of a neat quirk than anything. He's wired differently, literally, but they deserve a chance to be themselves.

And I appreciate how "Astro-B.O.Y.D!" gives Boyd a purpose as a character. I thought the bit in the Doofus episode where the villains try to pull the same con as Louie was fun, but Boyd didn't feel like much of a character, or at least no more of one than Sharkbomb was.

So "Astro-B.O.Y.D!" takes a character that very well could have had a one-off bit role, and made him something special. Made him somebody that a viewer can relate to, just as Huey did in the episode. Even just for 22 minutes, Boyd felt special. I felt special. I felt seen.

So yeah, that's my three. The fact that I can sit here and ramble about a half-decade old show that ended before I found it, is really cool. I'm so glad to have the chance to hang out with everybody here, whether we're discussing the best show in the history of time or doing literally anything else.

Shoutout to the people rallying the troops for today's anniversary... @secret-tester @justaboot @alexcanine @boingodigitalart @yeyeducks @cookieruby @the-richest-duck ... and to everyone else who's participated not just today but any day. We wouldn't be a community without the fine folks in it.

[wallpaper-inside-my-heart]

💛Smoshblr December Asks Final Day💙

IMPORTANT NOTES (that I forgot to include in todays ask):

If you aren't done with answering all your questions yet, but want to; then don't feel any pressure to do this today 🤗 Just bc it says december on the tin, doesn't mean I will appreciate getting your answer any less, if it's in late january or smth 🫶

also: I promise I will get around to looking at & interacting with everyone's responses! I promise I did not forget about you, I have just been/still am incredibly busy irl 🙈

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alright, buckle in folks, this is a long one 😅✨

(Split into three parts like the other asks; No pressure to any of you to do the same tho, I just really like this format and it suited my thoughts/organizing needs)

My favourite smosh related memories of 2023 (chronologically):

Tldr:

1.) Joining the smoshblr community 💚

2.) Spommy nation 💜

3.) Smoshblr December Asks 💛💙

now for anyone who is interested in me rambling way too much:

Joining the Smoshblr community 💚

I got into smosh at the start of this year bc of the Reddit stories videos (I watched a couple smosh vids over the years before, but never consistently followed their releases). They became smth I looked forward to every week and lead me to check out more smosh videos in general! I also remember checking the tumblr tag for smosh back then and being a little disappointed, that the fandom was fairly inactive, barring a few exceptions <3

And then the reunion happened and it took me like 3 whole days or so to actually realizewhat went down 🙈. Bc I saw the thumbnails for the interview and the 2t1l vids and was just like “Aww, it’s so nice that they are friends again and doing a collab! 😊 (I’ll watch these later tho…)” Little did I know that finally watching them would turn my year around in a way that I could have never seen coming!

Suddenly the Smoshblr community exploded with activity and so so many lovely ppl joined and started sharing their thoughts and feelings about the reunion. And while I wasn’t an OG fan by any stretch, it really felt like there was magic in the air/ on this platform! 😹💕

I’ve been into fandom for more than half of my life by now. But I’ve never really gotten “personally” involved in any active communities. Just someone hovering on the sidelines and simply liking & reblogging stuff from time to time.

But with this community smth just started to click for me and made me to get “more out of my shell” or whatever idioms might apply here. And this allowed me to meet so many awesome people!! 💖 Special shoutout to @wiggog-y-hecox 💜, who was literally my first friend in this community! I still so fondly remember our talks about your cool smosh AU concepts! 🤗💙 And also to @swiftllama 🩵 for discussing so many taylor swift lyrics and ianthony with me (+occasionally good omens too 😹💕) And also @japhan2023! 💚 I know we’ve been chatting on and off since the beginning, but I am also so so happy that this month in particular allowed us to grow even closer!

2. Spommy nation 💜

So we’re moving into the middle/end of summer now on the timeline for this one. I was in the middle of writing my bachelor thesis and really going through it mentally bc of that. Getting deeper and deeper into the Smoshblr community also lead me to check out more smosh fanfics in general. Which is how I discovered the fic the right side of my neck (still smells like you) - jovenshires (imdeansgirl) - Smosh [Archive of Our Own] by our beloved @jovenshires 🩷.

Now I’ve told Katie <3 this story before so I’ll keep it brief here; but basically smth about this fic was incredibly comforting to my overworked brain. And I’ve reread it more times that I’ve ever read a fanfic in my life before that. And I truly think it has forever changed my brain chemistry, and also made me very attached to this ship (aside from the fact, that spommy is genuinely such an amazingly adorable ship with incredible amounts of potential, like!! I don’t wanna downplay that bc of the chemical reactions in my brain around that time 🙈) Some more stuff happened which eventually lead me to become friends with Katie, who is truly one of the ppl I treasure the most in the world at this point 💖

But I also wanted to mention Spommy nation as a whole, bc this subsection of the fandom is filled with so many kind, creative and just generally amazing people!And I also just love all of us freaking out whenever we get new crumbs for this ship lmao 😹💕

Special shoutouts to @soupy-girl 💛, Kit! @hoohoobeanie 🖤, Mer!!! @tommybowefuneralattendee 💜, @ancientvamp 🤍 & Snel @blondeforyou 💙 for being some of spommy’s nations strongest soldiers 🫡 and also absolutely lovely and incredible people in general, who I adore so so much🫶🥰

3. Smoshblr December asks 💛💙

I doubt anyone didn’t see this coming 🙈😹

So, I had been meaning to do smth inspired by the “Shayne guesses” series for a while now (also the fact that the official smosh compilation of those vids dropped this week, near the end of this challenge, is so funny to me for some reason). But I never quite figured out how to do it, since I knew guessing for eachother would be difficult. And if I just started randomly messaging all the blogs I’ve followed with an onslaught of these questions, it might get a bit weird or overwhelming 😅…

⚠️slight too personal ramblings ahead, that I don’t wanna force on anyone without warning⚠️

And then, towards the end of November, I gotta be honest, I was really not doing well, especially mentally. (First masters semester and I was still sorta dealing with the damage I caused to my brain while writing the thesis and barely getting two weeks between defending it and starting the new semester to truly recover from it all) And I knew december would get worse, bc I still hadn’t finished all the Christmas presents for my family, assignments were piling up & I kept on catching way too little sleep.

So all of these stressful thoughts made me think “You know, a lot of other ppl are probably struggling with similar stuff rn, especially during these dark & cold times of the year. So why not try to do smth that might bring some joy or fun into other ppl’s lives?” And that’s how I literally typed up that initial post, two days before December started without having planned it for more than a literal day or so 🙈😹 (I did already have a long list of questions, bc I started doing the top 3 stuff in my friendgroup, but rearranging everything to fit the sorta 3-day cycle I wanted to do, still happened up until last week lmao; tho I always knew that this would be the last question <3)

(end of rambling ⚠️)

And I was genuinely, positively overwhelmed by how many people wanted to join in for this silly little game!🥹 I love and appreciate all of you, whether you stuck around for the whole month, might still be catching up on some of the questions (which, no worries, I know there were a lot 🤗) or just answered a few of them! 🤗💖 And as I am currently fighting the urge to tag every single person who participated in this activity, I cannot help myself but atthe very least tag the ppl that I feel like I have grown closest to/gotten to know a hell of a lot better, over the course of this month (some of which I may have known/followed for a while now, but some I also got to know mainly bc of them joining in on this journey with me in the first place: @ceilidhasworld ❤️, @fantasticduckchaos 🩶, @notthatalex 🖤, @natashasbitxh 🧡, @shaynetopps 💜,  @only-frann 💛, @smoshmonker 💚, @smoshidiot 🩷, @craintheodora 🩵, and so so many more of you guys! I just don’t want this entire post to become a taglist or send this to too many ppls notifications 🙈🫶

Note:

I know that I am super behind on interacting with everyone's responses! 🙈 And I promise that I will get to each of them eventually! 🤗 I am just super busy with assignments and exam prep atm. And also get very easily overwhelmed by talking a lot to people, even if it's just online 😅 (I love and appreciate ppl reaching out, asking questions or otherwise trying to have a conversation with me tho! It might just take me a good while to respond in some cases, which I promise has nothing to do with how much I value any of you 🥹🫶💞)

PS: The month might be over, but I do have something special planned in honor of this event and everyone participating in it 👀🫶

💚 Smoshblr December Wrapped 💚

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

Is it me or do other people find it jarring how Taika's haters try and distort reality and act like everyone loves him and they are the only one? Or that everyone acts like he's perfect and heaps him with praise for doing the bare minimum when from what I've seen no one who actually likes him does that.

I've seen people like 'if you're cancelling the last of us cancel ofmd cos Taika is zionist scum who supports genocide'.

Hi Anon! Oh interesting question. I don't know if I've personally seen a lot of that specific situation where they think everyone is blindly supporting him (I do tend to block after a certain point so maybe that's why?). If I'm understanding you correctly it sounds a lot like they're seeing any support of Taika as "HE IS PERFECT AND NO ONE SHALL CHALLENGE HIM" when most people who support him know he's not perfect (as no one is) and we accept him anyway.

Which is one of the things OFMD really drives home-- you're not perfect, that's okay! You can do better if you mess up! You are deserving of being forgiven!

Which I mean, in general I think that really points to your first point, that folks who are mad at him are kind of living in this distorted reality. But also too... I've seen this a lot in my personal life with ... various folks that some people see the world in a very black and white state. They see things as "if it's not this, it MUST mean THIS" -- in this case "If people support Taika, it MUST BE BECAUSE THEY THINK HES PERFECT", same with "If he asked for hostages to be released, HE MUST BE SUPPORTIVE OF GENOCIDE".

--- sorry long post is long, I'm in a rambling mood today sorry!---

Which.. to be fair there's a lot of cultural training for that.. as some folks have put in tags of other posts, it's lack of critical thinking and questioning skills. I know where I grew up they were super big into us questioning everything, but when I talk to some friends who grew up in other states here in the US, they didn't get the same focus on critical thinking in public school, and got more of it in college (and not everyone can afford to go to college). I had a really cool 11th grade English teacher who showed us a video in class one day. It was a parody of a documentary and was explaining how the earth was flat (which we didn't know at the time, they didn't tell us this wasn't real). It was weird because it didn't come out and say "the earth was flat" though, it came out with kind of vaguely reasonable sounding arguments from people with "Dr" in front of their name.

I remember looking at my friend who was really confused too and saying something like "wait is this for real?" and them shrugging at me. It wasn't until this part of the video where there's literally cows running around Antarctica that a lot of us were like, "wait this is totally not real". That English teacher.. after we got done with the movie started asking us when it was that we started questioning the validity of the video, and then went into this whole lecture about how especially when we're young, we're so used to just being FED information that sometimes we get fed completely false information and we just DONT know it. The whole exercise was all about questioning and critical thinking skills and how not every "teacher" or "doctor" is going to be as qualified as they try to tell you they are.

I found that whole exercise really eye opening because I had never really thought of people purposely trying to bias my education like that before. I'm sure there's thousands of ways that people learn these kinds of skills (and I know mine aren't perfect) but I found that one to really hit home-- so imagine never being taught that. Never being taught that if you start feeling like the thing being said doesn't sound quite right to question it.

Now of course, some folks are purposefully ignorant and that's a whole other issue, but I do think we need better critical thinking education all over the world (but especially in America what with the vastly different education depending on which region you're in).

ANYWAY omg im sorry -- I dont know if I even really addressed your point, so I apologize if I didn't (the ADHD is strong today I tell you)-- so if I didn't please let me know and I'll try again!

I hope the trolls aren't getting to you too much today, sending love anon <3