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ml-fandom-child · 11 months
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Unlocking the Keys of Professional Locksmiths: Whatever You Need to Know
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When it concerns guaranteeing the safety as well as security of our homes, offices, as well as cars, locksmith professionals play an essential role. These skilled professionals have the experience to deal with numerous lock-related problems, from emergency lockouts to setting up cutting edge safety systems. In this article, we will delve into the globe of locksmith professionals, clarifying their crucial solutions, the high qualities to seek in a reliable locksmith professional, as well as just how they can aid maintain your residential or commercial property and loved ones safe.Paragraph 2: Locksmith professionals are not just the heroes that concern the rescue during lockouts; they are additionally educated in the most current advancements in lock technology. Whether it's changing standard locks with wise locks or setting up high-security systems, locksmith professionals can offer customized options to satisfy your particular needs. Furthermore, they can provide beneficial recommendations on boosting the total security of your property, such as recommending the right locks for different doors and also home windows. By recognizing the value of locksmith professionals and their wide range of services, you can make educated decisions to protect your premises as well as enjoy tranquility of mind understanding that your protection demands are in capable hands.
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mariusvalaitis · 11 months
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Unlocking the Tricks of Specialist Locksmiths: Every Little Thing You Need to Know
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When it pertains to ensuring the safety and also safety of our residences, offices, as well as lorries, locksmiths play a crucial duty. These competent professionals possess the know-how to take care of numerous lock-related issues, from emergency lockouts to mounting advanced security systems. In this blog post, we will look into the globe of locksmith professionals, dropping light on their vital solutions, the qualities to try to find in a reputable locksmith professional, and how they can assist keep your property and also liked ones safe.Paragraph 2: Locksmiths are not simply the heroes that concern the rescue during lockouts; they are also experienced in the current innovations in lock technology. Whether it's replacing conventional locks with clever locks or mounting high-security systems, locksmith professionals can supply tailored options to satisfy your certain needs. Furthermore, they can offer useful advice on enhancing the overall safety and security of your building, such as suggesting the right locks for different doors and also home windows. By understanding the relevance of locksmiths and their large array of services, you can make informed decisions to safeguard your premises and also appreciate satisfaction understanding that your safety requirements are in capable hands.
Read more here https://alcatrazlock.com
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bananabuns · 1 year
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Unlocking the Tricks of Locksmiths: An Overview to Their Providers and also Know-how
Understanding the Important Duty of Locksmiths in Today's Globe
Locksmiths are commonly ignored, yet their services play an important duty in ensuring our safety and security and safety. From emergency situation lockouts to complex protection systems, locksmiths are educated experts that focus on the art of manipulating as well as repairing locks. These proficient people have a wide variety of knowledge, making them the best specialists for all points associated with locks and keys.Whether you discover on your own secured out of your residence, auto, or office, locksmith professionals are there to conserve the day. They are equipped with the essential tools and also knowledge to rapidly as well as successfully take care of lockouts, offering a feeling of relief as well as satisfaction to those in distress. Moreover, locksmith professionals are adept at repairing as well as replacing all kinds of locks, making sure the protection of your property.The Diverse Provider Provided by Locksmiths Locksmiths
provide a large selection of services past simply unlocking doors. They can assist with vital duplication, helping you develop spare tricks for emergencies or relative. Additionally, locksmith professionals are well-versed in the setup and maintenance of safety systems, such as CCTV cameras and also security system, to boost the defense of your property.When it involves
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commercial locksmithing, these specialists are knowledgeable in securing services, offering services like high-security lock installment, access control systems, and passkey systems. They can additionally offer skilled suggestions on maximizing protection measures for any industrial establishment.From property to automotive and business demands, locksmith professionals
are the unsung heroes who guarantee our security and also satisfaction. So, the next time you find on your own in a lock-related predicament, do not think twice to get to out to these experienced specialists who are educated to take care of all your locksmithing requires.
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blogjhm · 1 year
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Last time as you remember Rocky and Bullwinkle were about to stop Boris and Natasha from stealing a safe with a special secret inside it.
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redfoxwritesstuff · 5 months
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A Taste of Sugar (Part 1 of 2)
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Alastor x reader (Hazbin Hotel)
Part 1 rated M, Part 2 rated E 18+ for adult content
TW part 1: Light jealousy, trauma related to past food insecurity, trauma recovery.
TW Part 2: Explicate smut, see part 2 for details.
Almost 4k words for part one. Ps- Fuck you Nonny, this is what you get for trying to tell me what I'll write
~<3 Love, Kit.
As you work through the trauma of your life and starving to death, you dismantle your stash of snacks for what you hope will be the final time. Snack cakes, cookies and crackers are given to everyone around you, except one resident in the hotel whom you knew wouldn't enjoy or consume the treats. Then, as the flow of treats tricked to a stop, stash dismantled, small brown boxes containing treats began to appear at your door. Simple, delicious and seemingly homemade treats without so much as a note.
He watched and he waited, each week for your offer. Each week, no offer came and again he left his gift at your door. Why would you not think of him? Why would you not see him? What did he have to do for you to consider him?
~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~~<3~~~~~<3
A Taste of Sugar
You found yourself in Hell after a rather uneventful death that made of for its lack of excitement with lasting trauma. Now, sitting in a circle in a hotel that functioned more like a rehabilitation center and refuge than actual hotel, you were expected to recount it to the fellow residents that had become more like friends. 
It was Charlie’s latest grand idea of how to build trust and bonds between the group and process negative feelings that could hold each of you back from redemption. You didn’t think that was how redemption worked but whatever, it wasn’t your reputation on the line and it got you a safe room to sleep in and three meals a day. 
The others had grand stories of murders, crimes and addictions that all landed them in the grave, one way or another, often taking others with them. They had spoken of dark indulgences. 
Now they teased you, your crimes amounting to nothing compared to theirs. Damned for the simple crime of being born poor and attempting, rather unsuccessfully, to survive. 
You had died fairly young, having lived most of your life on the streets only to starve to death, alone, cold and in the dark. The shelters were full and the food banks near useless without somewhere to cook the food. Stealing food could only get you so far when you had little to choose from. You died dreaming of a warm meal, cooked at home. You died begging to world for a simple snack cake to quiet the pain in your stomach. You died alone, cold and hungry. 
The divine didn’t seem to care that you only stole what you thought you needed to survive. Really, not even that considering you starved to death. Maybe you didn’t pray enough. Maybe you didn’t go to the right church. Maybe you didn’t give away what little food you had often enough. 
Explaining that felt like shining a spotlight on every way you failed. You failed in life and you failed in death. Not good enough to get into heaven and yet you were also not bad enough to have a respected place in hell. Weak, unless and fueled by fear of once again going without. 
“So, that’s why you’ve always got snacks?” Angel pointed out, making you blush hard in shame. The trauma of your life hand a lasting grip around your actions even in death. 
“I’m trying to be better about it,” You felt shame in how you tended to hoard snacks in your room, rarely actually doing more than a little nibbling at them. Charlie did a great job of ensuring all residents had access to three meals a day, though someone was almost always missing from one meal or another. “I know I don’t have to worry about starving here, it’s just hard.” 
In the shadows of the hall, red eyes watched the group. A smile stretched in the distance as they discussed how the traumas of life leaked into the afterlife and the ways you could move past your traumas. 
He couldn’t say why he was drawn to you. You were little more than a lost doe and yet you plagued his mind. He wanted to cast you out so you’ll leave his thoughts as much as he wanted to keep you as a little pet for his own amusements. There was time enough to figure out what to do about the conflicting urges. For now, he can simply watch from a distance, from the shadows.
Rosie had told him that in her expert opinion he was ‘catching feelings’ when he had lamented his inability to settle on a course of action. That aggravated him more than anything else, well almost. The utter glee at the concept was more annoying by just a touch. 
He was above romantic sentiments just as he was above the carnal desires of the flesh. Rosie was mistaken, Alastor decided as he also made the decision that he would do nothing about you. There was no reason to let you plague him any longer. Simply look away, move on with his days and it would pass. 
Without the desire to do anything about this strange draw to you, Alastor settled on watching you from across the room. He watched as you ate, as you threw out the occasional small package of snacks.Turns out, he wasn’t very good at looking away from you. 
It didn’t escape him how you would frown, discussing your decision with Angel. You had decided you would no longer hoard snacks and oh, how proud of you the group was. 
You were growing. Healing. Blooming. 
If you’d talk to him, he’d tell you that very thing. Yes, he decided as you gave away snacks that he would tell you just how proud he was of you when you presented him with a part of your stash. 
He watched and he waited as you gave out cakes, crackers and cookies to everyone else. 
But never to him. No, it was always Angel and the other residents you shared your spoils with. Not once had you sought him out to offer him a cracker, cake or cookie. Not that he indulged in processed snacks or sweets on anything but the rarest occasion but that didn’t stop his shadow from bristling in annoyance behind him. 
He wanted to be offered. To be recognized. To be thought of. To be noticed. 
But he didn’t have feelings for you, he told himself. And that’s what he kept telling himself as the purging of your stash came to an end, drawer empty and flow of snacks becoming a trickle, an occasional treat purchased with the intention of sharing.
Oh, how you’d healed. 
~~~~~<3
The first time it happened, you nearly stepped on it. Someone had left a simple plain cardboard box in front of your room door without so much as a note attached to it. Inside were two equally simple cookies. Nothing large, nothing fancy. 
Setting them on your desk, you debated eating them or not. They looked good but when you had asked around, no one knew where they had come from. 
“Guess you’ve got a secret admirer,” Angel had teased you. “If the cookies are good, you should date them.” 
You didn’t know how you’d pull that off without knowing who left them though. Surely they were safe to eat, it’s not like random people came and left the hotel.
What’s the worst that could happen, if they were drugged? You were safe in your room. If they made you sick you had a private bathroom. You were already dead so what’s the harm?
The cookies were good, it turned out. You had nibbled on them over a few days, spreading out the treat. It seemed as soon as they were gone though, a new box appeared at the door. This time with a handful of crackers, some sliced cheese, fruit and sliced cured meat.
This continued for months, treats that were simple, modest and only enough to last for a few days. No matter how quickly or slowly you had consumed the gift, the night you discarded the empty box always brought a new box in the morning. 
~~~~~<3 
You leaned against the counter watching Alastor work. It was late and though you were not hungry, you often found yourself in the kitchen. Just being able to go down and look at the food you had access to had been helping you resist the urge to hoard food in your room when ever you felt that anxiety claw at you. 
It helped too, that you had been able to look forward to the small snack boxes that showed up. 
“Something on your mind, Dear?” Alastor didn’t look to you as he spoke, instead keeping his eyes on ingredients he was measuring out. 
You hadn’t expected to find him in the kitchen. It was late and those who didn’t leave to party were asleep. Husk was even passed out at the bar. 
“Not really,” You said after a moment. 
“The food is all here,” Alastor said with a hum, “If that’s what you’re here to check.” 
“Oh, No! I-”
“We’ve all got our quirks.” Alastor cut you off, pouring water into a bowl and adding yeast. 
“What are you making?” You asked rather than face admitting that he was right about what you were there to do.
“Beignets,” Alastor said, mildly annoyed.
“Those are like donuts, right?” You asked, hoping that you had imagined the sound. 
“Indeed, they’re similar.” Alastor kept his words curt. 
“For breakfast tomorrow?” 
“At this hour, it’s today.” Alastor swallowed his annoyance at the endless questions and lied, “Yes, for breakfast.”
“I’ll go, sorry for bothering you.” You stepped backward as you took the hint, smile falling from your face. 
“No,” He answered too fast, bitter sigh huffing through his always present smile, “I’ll need someone to try the test one.” 
“Oh.” 
You sat, watching Alastor work. He mixed flour into the liquid. This was a way you had never seen Alastor before. It crossed your mind that he probably didn’t let many see him with his coat and gloves off, smile turned soft and flour dusting his dark hands. 
But he was letting you. 
His coat was draped over the back of the chair you sat in, brushing against your skin as you shifted positions. His gloves were folded neatly and discarded on the table. He worked with his sleeves rolled up and a tune filling the air as he alternated between humming and softly singing to himself. 
It was beautiful. You were engrossed watching him work. The sound of his voice seemed to wrap around you, caressing you with warmth. 
You’d never spent much time with Alastor. You knew he was a deer, like yourself but until now, you’d thought his only deer trait had been the antlers and ears atop his head. It hadn’t occurred to you that he would have a little fluffy tail to match your own. 
It should have, you had fluffy ears to match his though with your longer hair, it was more obvious that they were indeed ears. You watched as his red and black tail moved with him as he put the dough in the icebox to chill.
“What now?” You asked, leaning back from him. 
“We wait, my little doe,” Alastor sat front of you across the table, leaning into your space across the small table.
“For how long?” You ask, not sure what to make of spending so much time with him. 
“A while,” Alastor said, “But I assure you the wait is well worth it.” 
“But you don’t like sweets.”
“You know what I like?” Alastor’s dark hand, stained by blood that could never be washed away dramatically rose to rest over his heart with a flourish as he leaned forward even more. “I’m ever so flattered.” 
You stuttered, not sure how to backtrack. Alastor laughed at your flustered stuttering before taking pity on you, pointing a long claw tipped finger so close to you that you swore he was going to stab you with his nail. 
“You, my dear, do enjoy sweets however.”
You didn’t know what to say to that, face warm. He knew that you cared for sweets. You were tired but seeing this relaxed side of him was thrilling. That chased away most of the fatigue, driving you to stay and find someway to push the conversation along. 
“I didn’t know you liked to cook,” You struggled to decide how to fill the silence.
“I’ve always found it rather enjoyable.” Alastor cocked his head to the side as he watched you. “My mother taught me.” 
“That must have been nice.” You weren’t sure what to say, having never really gotten to experience the love of a mother yourself. 
“It was.” Alastor watched as you leaned forward, resting your head on your arms. There was something about you that he couldn’t put down. “Did your mother not teach you to cook?” 
Your ears sagged atop your head at the question, earning a raised eyebrow from the man across from you. “She didn’t teach me much of anything. I was on my own since I was fourteen.” 
“Oh, Dear,” Alastor said as if he didn’t know that already, “How dreadful.” 
“I never really had enough food for learning to cook to be a thing.” You shrugged your shoulders, not lifting your head as you stretched out your arm to use it as a pillow. You shifted, allowing you to face him even as you used the side of the table to lounge on. 
“But you do now.” Alastor pointed out as he sat with you in a kitchen full of food.
“Full of Charlie’s and the hotel’s food.” You said, “I couldn’t risk wasting it. It’s enough that everyone shares with me what they make and,” You shake your head awkwardly against your arm, cutting off the thought.
“And?” Alastor pressed. 
“Someone’s been leaving little boxes of treats at my door. I wish I knew who it was.” 
“Why?” Alastor leaned back now, putting distance between the two of you, “Does the origin of a gift matter?” 
“I-” Your eyes teared up as your voice strangled in your throat. You sat up, not sure why you were being so open with him. 
“You~?” Alastor asked in a sing song tone as a tear slipped from your eye and ran down. His eyes followed it as it cut a path down your cheek. It was maddening to him, what you made him feel. How watching that tear captured his attention, yet he raged at the fact that it was born from pain in your heart.
“I’ve never had anyone give me treats like that.” You said, wiping the tear away much to his disappointment. 
“Never? Surely a suiter gifted you treats while courting for your attention.” Oh, why did saying that raise bile in his throat? 
“I’ve never-” You laugh, not sure why the idea of discussing this with Alastor made you feel uneasy. “There was never any suiters. No boys. No one.” 
“I struggle to believe that.” Alastor laughed as he stood from his chair, “Come my dear, wash your hands and join me.” 
You didn’t know what he wanted but Alastor was a man to be obeyed. While you were both deer, he had far more power than you could ever dream to possess. If he wanted to demand your help, you had little choice but to comply. 
Sure, the hotel offered a sense of safety but if Alastor wanted to squash you like a bug, shared demonic traits or not, there was nothing that could stop him. Well, Charlie would but she was asleep. 
Alastor had the counter floured and a small portion of dough out as you joined him, drying your hands. “Where’s the rest?” 
“That’ll be fried up in the morning, if it passes our test.”
He pulled you in front of the counter before stepping close behind you. It was hard to ignore the overwhelming presence of him looming over your shoulder as he reached around to grab the rolling pin only to pass it to you.
“Roll it out until I say,” He directed as he covered the pin in flour only to place it in your hands. 
As you worked, his hands rested on either side of you against the counter, boxing you in from behind while not touching you at all. It was hard for you to ignore how close he was. 
It was like the man was taking over your mind, something you hadn’t expected considering you hadn’t given him much thought in the months before. The smell of his cologne seemed to surround, making your head light. You weren’t sure why you were reacting to him like this but it left your nerves buzzing. 
Now all you could think of was the way his breath caressed over your ears, the way his hands looked without the gloves, dusted with flour, the sound of his voice as he hummed and the smell of his cologne. 
“There.” Alastor said, taking the pin from you and replacing it with a dough cutter. “Squares, about the size of your fist.” 
Cool air swept around you as Alastor moved away, checking the pot of oil heating on the stove. You’d only just begun to relax under his looming presence and now he was gone and damnit, you missed it. 
There was just enough dough to form two squares with some left over. Alastor scooped them up before dropping them in the oil. You stood next to him, watching as the oil came to life around the dough. 
“How long do we cook them?” You asked over the sound of the violently bubbling oil.
“Not long.” Alastor said from too close behind you once again as inky black shadow imps swept up the flour and crumbs, wiping down the counters.
On the counter, he set a plate with a rack over it and next to that was a sifter atop a container of powdered sugar. You were boxed in by Alastor as he rested his hands on either side of the fryer, looking over your shoulder as he once again boxed you in. 
“Now.” He said softly, “Scoop them out and put them on the rack.” 
You were timid, scared of being burned as you fished for the squares with the spoon made of wire. 
“Hurry, hurry!” Alastor cried, voice carrying a musical note as he only made your nerves worse, “You don’t want them to burn!” 
Finally, you got them out. Oil dripped off the puffed up pastries as they quickly drained the excess oil off. Alastor grabbed the sifter only to put it in your hands. He moved you as if you were a puppet, placing the sifter in your hands over the rack, steam wafting up to caress your hand. You stood still as he poured a few spoonfuls of powdered sugar into the basket. 
“Well, what are you waiting for?” He teased. “You can manage to turn the handle, can’t you?” 
“Yeah,” You stammered over the word, mind buzzing with the anxiety of having Alastor, the powerful, blood thirsty Radio Demon spending so much time in your immediate space. Your hands shook as you turned the small metal handle, causing the wire bar inside the sifter to spin, agitating the powdered sugar and helping it fall in a smooth, clump free shower over a square. 
Alastor used his hand on your forearm to move the sifter over the other pastry when he had decided there was enough dusting on the first. You didn’t know if there was any science to how much sugar each got or if he was simply measuring with his long dead heart. 
Once both were covered enough for his taste, he plucked the sifter from your fingers and set it aside. 
“What now?” You asked, unsure still of what was going on. 
“Now you try one.” Alastor said, plucking a square up. When you went to grab the other, he roughly shoved the rack out of your reach. 
“What? Why did you do that?!” Your brow furrowed as you looked at the rack, now well out of reach before looking back at the man standing too close to you. “How can I try it if you won’t let me grab it?”
“Open.” Alastor commanded as he ripped the corner off the beignet in his hand. 
“Wha-” Your question was cut off by the soft, warm, sweet taste that invaded your mouth somewhat forcefully. 
It was delicious. 
“Well?” Alastor asked as you swallowed the bite. 
You hadn’t noticed Alastor rip off another chunk of beignet but found it pushed between your lips the moment you attempted to praise the taste. This time, instead of retreating, his thumb rested against your lower lip as you took in the bite. 
His nails were long and pointed claws, not the thick claws that encased the fingertips of his gloves, but still dangerous. The sharp point of his thumbnail poked between your lips as he watched you chew for a few moments. 
You were spellbound by the way he looked down at you. What exactly was happening, you had no fucking clue but the air between you and Alastor was thick with something you couldn’t begin to understand. 
His touch left your lip to rip another chunk off the beignet slowly as you watched him. His dark bloodstained hands were covered in the white powdered sugar and flour, softening their appearance.
“It’s good,” You whispered as he slowly brought another bite to your lips. 
This time he offered it, waiting for you to open your mouth and take what he was offering on your own, knowing full well who was offering it. Somehow, it felt like something far more than a midnight snack was being offered to you but what?
“It’s been you,” You said, not asked as Alastor presented another bite that you took willingly as soon as you spoke. 
His thumb again lingered on your lips, sugar damp with oil and sticky on his skin smearing. 
“Yes,” Alastor said after a pause to toss the remaining portion of the beignet on the counter and wiping the hand that had been holding it on a hand towel on the counter, cleaning it of some of the sugar. Yet his other hand didn’t leave you. His thumb remained on your lower lip, feeling every twitch and breath. 
“Why?” You whispered, his thumb slipping against your lip and coming dangerously close to falling into your mouth. 
“You never offered me anything of your stash,” Alastor spoke softly.
“You don’t like sweets,” You hadn’t wanted to waste his time when you had made the decision to dismantle your stash. It had been a emotionally difficult choice, one that you had made before and never stuck to for long until now. “Or junk food.”
“You ignored me.” Alastor’s thumb slipped, running along her lower lip but never leaving it. “I thought if you had better options…”
“I’d share them with you?” Your voice was coming out so soft now, Alastor’s tall ears cocked forward to better pick up your words. 
“But you didn’t.” 
“I didn’t share them with anyone.” You whispered. “I didn’t want to share them with anyone.”
“Why?” 
“I wanted to keep them all to myself. They were too good to share. I-” 
Alastor’s thumb slipped into your mouth, cutting off whatever you had been about to say. Sticky sweetness exploded across your tongue as his thumb caressed it. You could feel the point of his nail against your tongue, a hint of danger coated in sweet sugar. 
Your mind was numb as you caressed the pad of his thumb, rolling the tip of your tongue under his nail softly. You were not sure what he wanted from you. The idea of overstepping Alastor’s unspoken boundaries was terrifying. This was uncharted waters. A side of Alastor you had never seen or even dared to dream of seeing. 
Alastor watched you as you stood near frozen. “Under some circumstances, I enjoy a sweet.” 
~~~~~<3
See part 2 for the smut.
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toomuchracket · 9 months
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Mads I have this concept in my mind. I see it with d word Matty. I think beginning of the relationship, maybe Matty is supposed to be away for a couple of days so girlie is having a self maintenance night. I imagine her with her hair up to have heat less curl, self tan, maybe some pimple patches. And then Matty surprises her by coming back early, maybe she's waiting for her food, she opens the door and it's Matty. She's super embarrassed/self conscious but of course he's super chill about all of it.
this inspired me to write a lil fic! seeing it as set after candlelight, but before any d words or l words were used lol. enjoy! <3
i've been dying to meet you (d word matty x reader fluff)
the doorbell rings just as you're applying your under-eye patches. you don't rush to get it, though - the drivers know to just leave your food order at the door to your flat once you've buzzed them up. god forbid anyone sees you like this, after all, in the midst of your thursday night routine; you probably look insane, wandering around in your dressing gown and slippers, hair wrapped around a pair of tights and clipped up, face covered in sheet mask and pimple patches, respectively.
but you feel good. and you'll look good tomorrow. which is imperative, given that you’ll see your boyfriend (it still feels weird being able to say that, honestly) for the first time in 20 days.
the thought of that has you slightly giddy. humming happily, you dance through the flat towards the door, only pausing in the living room to click play on the next episode of sex and the city and have a sip of your wine. the mouthwatering scent of your dinner seeps into the hallway, growing stronger as you near the door - it's never quite been so potent before, but then again, you’re fucking starving. 
still humming tunelessly, you open the door to grab your food, and come face to face with matty.
your breath catches in your throat in horror - he can't see you like this, so soon into the relationship! - but your heart swells at the sight of your boyfriend in his hoodie and sweats, your (open!) takeaway in his hands. he grins when he sees you, eyes lighting up as he takes in your appearance; you tense up in preparation of him taking the piss out of it.
he doesn't, though. “hi, baby,” matty says softly. “stole one of your prawn crackers - hope you don't mind.”
you blink. “how- how did you get up here? you didn't buzz.”
“offered to hold the door for the delivery guy and just came in after him. and then i offered to bring this up when i asked if it was for your flat and he said yeah. felt like i was 22 again, honestly, in my old job,” your boyfriend smiles. “although i can safely say i never ever delivered a takeaway to someone as hot as you back then.”
“don't make fun,” you groan, stepping to the side to let him into the flat - he kisses your temple as he passes you - and kicking the door shut. “nobody was meant to see me tonight. s'why i asked them to ring the doorbell and just leave the food without me answering.”
“i did wonder why it took you so long to get to the door, darling,” matty calls over his shoulder as he wanders into your kitchen. he furrows his brow when you walk straight past and continue into your bedroom, laying the food on the counter and following you - well, until the door closes before him. “babe? are you… annoyed at me?”
“no, i'm just putting underwear on,” comes your muffled reply, followed by the sound of a drawer opening and closing.
“don't feel you need to do that on my account, sweetheart, i insist. actually, i'm more than happy to also get naked, if you prefer.”
despite your lingering shock at seeing him, you giggle at your boyfriend’s eager tone. “no, it's alright, matty.”
“you're sure? i've already got my shirt off.”
the speed with which you open your bedroom door at that phrase is almost embarrassing. matty - shirtless, as promised - smirks when you do. “i can't believe you had no pants on when you answered the door.”
you frown, flicking him on the stomach; he just laughs and follows you into the kitchen. “shut up, i couldn't put clothes on, i had just moisturised.”
“what, your arse and all?”
“mhmm.”
“interesting,” matty smirks again. “wouldn't mind seeing that process, to be honest.”
“for fuck's sake, matthew.”
“sorry, darling, couldn't resist,” your boyfriend grins. his face softens into a more tender smile. “just missed you, s'all. hope you don't mind that i came over early and interrupted your pamper night - couldn't settle at home, knowing you were only a few miles away for the first time in weeks.”
the sweetness of his revelation goes straight to your knees; you wrap your arms around his neck to hold yourself up, and press your lips to his in a tender kiss. it deepens when matty runs his tongue across your lips, slipping it into your mouth when they open, but that's as passionate as it gets - the overwhelming emotion behind the kiss is just sheer affection.
“i missed you too,” you kiss matty's nose when you pull away. “and you're not interrupting anything, really, s'just my usual thursday night routine,” you pull the little containers of food from the bag and turn to get a plate from the cupboard. “d'you want to split this with me? i ordered too much.”
matty nods, taking the plates from you and grabbing a fork from the drawer to dish the food up. “thanks, sweetheart. so, tell me more about this thursday night thing. you do this every week?”
“yeah, whenever i'm home, just to prep for the weekend. haven't you ever noticed i always look better at work on fridays?” you grin, pouring your boyfriend a glass of wine.
“not really. i think you look beautiful every day,” matty smiles, kissing your hand after you pass him the wine. “although i have noticed your hair is usually really curly during friday meetings. i like it.”
you point to your head. “blame this.”
“serious? i thought you were going to get a blow dry after work or something.”
“nah,” you giggle. “i just go to sleep with this in. feels a bit weird, but i like the end result.”
“so do i,” matty smiles. “you're so pretty, baby.”
your cheeks burn, and you smile bashfully at the floor. “well, when i take all these weird stickers off my face, maybe.”
“no, even now,” matty gently tilts your chin up so he can look you in the eye. “you’re beautiful. my perfect girl!”
he leans down to kiss you again; you giggle as he pulls away afterwards. “oh, you're down bad bad for me, aren't you? still thinking i'm pretty even when i've got pimple patches on.”
“well, yeah, i have eyes.”
“pretty ones, at that,” you rest your hand on his jaw, and he turns to kiss it. “i'm glad you came to see me tonight. would you like to stay over?”
“if i say yes, do i get to be pampered a little bit?” matty giggles.
“oh, i'll take care of you, don’t you worry, baby.”
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werepuppy-steve · 7 months
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february fic rec
a monthly fic rec series where i try to read every fic on my tbr
<- january -> march ▸ more fic recs ▸ my ao3
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steve has nightmares - M, 2.3k, complete @hitlikehammers
tags: established relationship, panic attacks, 54321 grounding method
It’s not like the nightmares are, y’know: something new. What’s new is the way he wakes up from them. It’s still a gasping thing, with his heart shot up past the base of his throat more near his tonsils or some shit, somewhere he can almost taste it like metal and the sour tang of fear as it rattles and shakes and pounds, like his chest’s caving in on itself and that’s all normal, that’s all stuff he knows and— “-ve you,” but now there’s a sound on the periphery of his awareness, sneaking in the almost-nonexistent space between his hammering pulse but he grabs for it, because something in him knows it’s important: the most important. He follows it in between the beating, risks getting crushed if he fails here, too, and— “Love you,” Steve hears more clearly, all of a sudden, and he feels hands on him, running smooth and swift courses up and down his arms; then he also feels lips, he can feel the words as motion against his body almost more than he can pick out the sound: “love you, love you, love you,” and now he knows it, now that his vision clears as it adjusts to the darkness and he sees him: Eddie. - Or: Steve has nightmares. Eddie talks him through.
Stolen - T, 2.7k, complete @penny00dreadful
tags: secret relationship, hospital heist, protective steve harrington
When Steve arrives back at Eddie's hospital room, only to be met by a doctor telling him that Eddie had suddenly died within the last ten minutes, Steve finds that very hard to believe. OR Steve steals Eddie back.
eternity - T, 2k, complete @oh-stars
tags: love confessions, fluff
“I need to come over tonight,” he whispers to Robin. “Eddie wants to talk.”  “Oh,” Robin says, cupping the back of Steve’s head briefly. “I’ll have all your favorites ready for you when you get to my house.”  Steve doesn’t have to say anything or force a smile. She gets it.
Love Is What Makes You Brave - G, 3.1k, complete @penny00dreadful
tags: break-up/make-up, getting back together, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort
Should he be here? No. Was he going to continue to be here for as long as he could take it? Hell yeah. OR Eddie found out Steve is getting married. And now he's idling in the church car park.
Safe Haven - M, 2/2, complete @sidekick-hero
tags: werewolf steve, hurt/comfort, getting together
Eddie finds a hurt wolf in the woods and takes him home. He has no idea that there is more to this particular wolf than it seems.
In Sickness and Health - G, complete @steviewashere
tags: established relationship, older steddie, hurt/comfort, discussions of seizures
Eddie has learned to revel in quiet afternoons, even when he’s alone. The way the sunshine bathes the apartment’s living room carpet—his and Steve’s apartment. Their cat, Poncho, settled heavy and warm in his lap. A chilled glass of southern iced tea and a plate of crackers and sliced cheese. The television volume on low. Book open and set on the arm of the couch. It’s good, the quiet. Yet, it breaks the moment the front door opens. He didn’t hear Steve stick his key in the lock. But he definitely hears his annoyed groans and huffs. The slam of the door, most likely shut with his hip. A muffled, “Damnit”, when he drops his keyring on the floor.
City of Stars (Are You Shining Just For Me?) - T, complete @steviewashere
tags: coming out, love confessions, hurt/comfort
Steve and Eddie’s hang outs tend to land them on their asses at one another’s houses. But tonight, the sky is clear and the moon is out and everything seems to be painted by the soft glow of stars. Because Steve’s parents are home. And Wayne’s got the day off, so he’s asleep early in the living room at the Munson’s. Neither of that will stop them, though. Steve picks Eddie up thirty minutes before the sun has to set, a little Melvald’s bag in the backseat filled with food and a soft throw blanket.
Perfect Timing - G, complete @steviewashere
tags: established relationship, domestic fluff, future fic
It’s funny, Steve thinks, that he knows the way in which Eddie’s emotions express when he comes through the front door of their shared space. They began renting an apartment in Chicago just a year or so after getting together. Tail end of 1986 meant sharing a bed and house by August of 1987. And it’s theirs. Filled with miscellaneous clutter—a bookshelf brimmed with books, coffee table layered with Sports Illustrated and Heavy Metal magazines, dice and keys and Topps baseball cards, and picture frames they dust and drawings from Eddie’s sketchbooks and ‘failed’ art projects of Steve’s that Eddie thought were masterpieces. Point is, they’ve made it their home. And they started their lives with a breath of fresh air. And now it’s 1995, depending on one another’s reactions, this all may just crumble at their feet.
feel the bigger thing - T, complete @hitlikehammers
tags: established relationship, married steddie, domestic fluff, rockstar eddie
“We don’t need a second house,” Steve points out, smooshed against Eddie’s sternum. “We can get the pool,” Eddie added with the audible equivalent of his brow-wiggle and okay, fine, that’s a good point, because Steve may not have really used the one at his parents’ after, well, everything, but he…does kinda miss having one. Now that the memories are distant enough in both time and miles that he doesn’t see standing water deeper than four feet and start fucking hyperventilating anymore. So…yeah. Compelling argument regarding a pool.
fever - E, 3.8k, complete @maxinemaxmayfield
tags: transmasc eddie, first time, virgin eddie, strap-ons, top eddie, bottom steve
“Shit,” Eddie groans, teeth pressing into his bottom lip. His hips buck up, and his imagination runs away with that, thinking about Steve, balancing over Eddie’s hips, riding him as hard and fast as he can manage, delicious thighs shaking while Eddie thrusts up into him.  God, he wants it more than anything. There’s just one problem.  Eddie currently lacks the, uh… Equipment.
so glad i found you - T, 1.4k, complete @steddieas-shegoes
tags: established relationship, steddie dads, modern au
Eddie blinked at Steve, lips parted as he tried to remember how to breathe. He’d been with Steve for just over a year, and while he didn’t technically live with them, he spent more time at their apartment than his own. He was on Sarah’s emergency pick-up list, took her with him to run errands when Steve had to work late, bought her things when the budget allowed just because he wanted to, and would read to her most nights that he stayed over. In many ways, he was her dad.
An Extra Hand - E, 5.2k, complete proprioception
tags: blow jobs, dick piercings, smoke buddies, steve being a slut for eddie's dick
"You have a dick piercing?" Steve finally sputters. "Oh," Eddie says. "Yeah." Steve thinks he recovers pretty quickly from that. (That's the only thing he has going for him in Hawkins: he gets back up.)
take the call - T, complete @hitlikehammers
tags: established relationship, married steddie, rockstar eddie, future fic
“Eddie?” He rolls his eyes kinda automatically, kinda thoughtlessly at the cut of the audio track to let the mic system override from outside the booth. “Okay, so, like, don’t freak out.” “This lady called, and she said she found Lainie’s card inside the case of a phone she picked up,” and okay, okay, that’s…that’s random but maybe it’s about their assistance manger, who just got her contract confirmed and got fancy new business cards for it and has been handing them out to everybody she sees, even gave Eddie extras to pass on to Steve, maybe he can share them at the school as if anyone at even a hoity-toity private 6-through-12 school would have a reason for a card from a record label but she’s excited, and Eddie’s excited for her, and Steve loves the people Eddie works with, and not just because they’re attached to Eddie and he loves the things that come with Eddie as a given—but that’s also true, and always has been, but— “She found the phone at a car crash?” So: the more-to-it. The thing his body already knew. Eddie…Eddie doesn’t even need to know what comes next to know he cannot fucking breathe.
Angel - E, complete @steviewashere
tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, insecurities, handjobs
His eyes track different spots in the room. The lines on the wall. Bowling pin. Car picture. Dresser with the drawers haphazardly still open. Eddie saunters over and gently closes them, even stops by Steve’s hamper and picks up the other thrown down clothes. And then he notices it out of the corner of his eye, Steve’s full length mirror. It breaks his heart. The sheet covering what would be his reflection. And on the top right corner? A little sticky note, reading: You’ll hate what you see. Everybody does. Don’t remove. 
Dream Come True - G, complete @steviewashere
tags: married steddie, future fic, steddie dads
He may have got the quiet life. And Eddie may have lived out his simple dream. He’d been a rockstar for a little bit in the late nineties and early two-thousands, retiring before they got married. But…Steve hasn’t lived his dream. Eddie hates that he thinks it’s being held back from him. Eddie’s determined to heal that hurt inside him.
Have You Done Your Homework? - E, 7/7, complete SameShipDifferentFont
tags: first time bottoming, daddy kink, bottom steve, virgin steve, sex toys
“I…I want to.” Steve admitted. “You want to?” “I-Yeah, I do, I just…I don’t know how.” he flushed furiously, snatching his hand away to rest at Eddie’s open inner thigh. Eddie caught his ducking head before he could hide against his shoulder, smiling softly as Steve met his eyes in embarrassment, but Eddie looked mischievous. “Just treat it like a pussy, baby, can’t go far wrong.” Or...Famous ladies man, Steve Harrington, is reduced to a blushing virgin when it comes to sex with Eddie. He struggles with the anxiety of trying something new, but Eddie is patient, and gives him...assignments. Steve explores his own body, learns what he likes, ways he can please Eddie, until he can attempt his main goal...giving his virginity to Eddie Munson. If he has the nerve to go through with it.
Honey and Tea. - E, 5.7k, complete daggerandrosie
tags: omegaverse, accidental voyeurism, masturbation, omega steve, alpha eddie
It was all just a innocent silly joke, nothing much, Steve just wanted a good easy laugh. It was late, dark and silent at the trailer park, no one in sight and Eddie's nightstand light was on. Steve would just pop he's head up the window and, hopefully, scare the shit out of his friend. But he's the one that ended up being spooked. Maybe you shouldn't be peeping through people's privacy after dark.
fallen king - T, complete @sp0o0kylights
tags: post s2, pre steddie, eddie munson's tabletop sermons, valentines day
With a startling amount of clarity, Steve realized he was done.  With his so called friends, with  the girls who’d tried corning him all morning, with Hargrove and just--everything.  He was over it.  If Billy wanted the crown so bad he could fucking have it.  (If Tommy wanted to pretend he was tougher than he was by mimicking the dick, then he could have that too.)  “This is stupid.” Steve announced, dropping the masks he so carefully wore. The ones he kept having to fix, because the Upside Down and its related demons (human and non) kept taking chunks out of it. 
soothed - G, complete @steviewashere
tags: injury, hurt/comfort, pre steddie, protective steve
Steve moves to drag Eddie inside, but drops his hands when Eddie flinches away, nearly stumbling down to the concrete. He lets go of his elbows, which are now decorated with fine small crescents, and shields himself. There’s a couple smaller, red bruises decorating his wrists. As if somebody grabbed him. Steve fumes at the sight. “Eddie,” Steve breathes, “why don’t you come inside?” He steps away from the door, letting it sit open and waiting. On shuffled, hesitant feet, Eddie comes in. His eyes dart around the room before they land back on Steve. Immediately, some of the tension and fear in his big brown eyes falls away. Instead, a layer of relief and gratitude seems to fill him. Enough that his eyes brim with tears. “Oh, Eds,” Steve can only coo.
pretty pets once were wild - E, 5k, complete kravioli
tags: werewolf steve, vampire eddie, monsterfucking, sub top steve, dom bottom eddie, puppy play, breeding kink
The annual Munson ball has been a celebration of all monsterkind living in Hawkins for nearly 600 years. When Steve is dragged along to this year’s celebration during the full moon, he gets a lot more than he signed up for. or werewolf!steve and vampire!eddie’s mating
i'm keeping you in sight - T, 2.2k, complete teiresias
tags: fluff, pining, taller eddie, getting together
When there’s no immediate reply, he pauses for a moment, seemingly taking in the situation. “D’you want help with that, Stevie?” -- Eddie has the gall to get taller.
The Boy Who Swallowed a Star - M, 9.9k, complete @hitlikehammers
tags: howl's moving castle au, getting together, hurt/comfort, domestic fluff, platonic stobin, robin as calcifer (bc that deserves its own tag)
The Wizard Munson is supposed to inspire fear and awe. A trickster, a devil, a power unmatched. Blah blah blah; Steve only sees the gangly boy who almost fell off the roof of the Harrington’s tailoring shop, trying and failing to be stealthy and mysterious when Steve was not yet ten—so where whispers follow down alleyways about the dreaded terrors of the Wizard? Steve really just sees the goofball. His Eddie. “Come with me, Stevie,” Eddie doesn’t even pause for pleading, dives right in and begs him as if Steve needs convincing; "if nothing else, come with me so I know you’re safe, so I can do what needs doing without splitting half of me always just worrying. Save me from scrying out endlessly, to make sure you’re okay.” Steve’s heart thumps painful, pathetic: pure and unvarnished in a way he thinks is only possible when Eddie’s nearby. Only possible for Eddie, at all. Which means the answer’s wholly obvious—the war’s getting worse, this is his Eddie—only one response was ever really on the table: “Alright.”
crawl home to you - E, 5.2k, complete @steddieas-shegoes
tags: temporary character death, kas eddie, vampire eddie, soulmates, getting together, blood drinking
Steve should never have kissed him. He knew that now. While Eddie was dying, bleeding out on the ground of their version of Hell, the only thing Steve felt he could do to help him was kiss him. It was quick, just a peck on the lips, lingering only for a moment. Their eyes never even closed. Steve wanted to take in every remaining moment that Eddie had. There was nothing else he could do, just hold him, try to whisper comfort that may not have even been heard.
it's not ever what it looks like - M, 3.2k, complete @steddieas-shegoes
tags: modern au, rockstar eddie, established relationship, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, implied/suspected cheating (nobody is actually cheating on anybody don't worry)
There was a picture of Eddie standing with his arm around some guy who was taller than him, both of them laughing, looking at each other like…well. Steve knew that look because it’d only ever been pointed at him, but now he was seeing it pointed at just some guy. The headline read EDDIE MUNSON GIVING UP HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART FOR SUPERMODEL SUPERSTAR?
Feels Good (Oh To Be Alone With You) - E, 1.3k, complete @theheadlessphilosopher | th3d3adboy
tags: transmasc eddie, cock warming, light dom/sub, cunnilingus, handjobs
Steve had never felt the way he did when he and Eddie were together. He'd always considered himself a pretty experienced guy, sexually speaking, but with Eddie things were different.
if devotion is a river, then i'm floating away - E, 6.4k, complete @starryeyedjanai
tags: post-s4, getting together, drummer steve, corroded coffin, semi-public sex
“So when you said someone was paying you to get lessons for the past six months, you weren't talking about some middle schooler interested in doing marching band?” Eddie asks, slamming the fridge door harder than necessary. Sorry, Gareth’s mom. “Nope,” Gareth says, popping the ‘p’ sound. “You’re pure evil,” he says. “Why is Gareth evil and why is Steve Harrington in the garage?” Jeff asks, coming into the kitchen. or, Eddie has feelings about Steve filling in as their drummer
i'm a man (without conviction) - T, 2.1k, complete lateralparallel
tags: hopper pov, established steddie, protective hopper, character study, eddie antagonizes hopper on purpose
Steve Harrington is not his kid. Hopper already has three, and he’s not looking to add any more. He’s sure of this fact about ninety nine percent of the time, the remaining one percent being when he’s faced by Harrington’s big, clear eyes and his perpetually quivering laugh. Hopper is not a great dad. He knows this, and he knows he should remember this, but Steve Harrington has a way of making him think highly of himself in the paternal department.
Drunk Dialing - E, series, WIP FinalMoondragon
tags: drunk bootycall, phone sex, light dom/sub, bratty steve, semi-public masturbation
Steve was drunk. Very drunk. He knew it. Robin definitely knew it. That’s why she was sitting on his back, pinning him to the floor, trying to pry his hands out from under his body. Her pajama pants were bunched up around her knees, her sock clad foot near his face. “Steve! Give-It-To-Me!” she said through gritted teeth. Or: Steve Harrington has a brilliant idea and Robin fails at stopping him.
cassette tapes and ticket stubs. - M, 5.2k, complete @thefreakandthehair | througheden
tags: modern au, mutual pining, fluff, coffee shops, record stores, baseball fan steve, getting together, accidental dates
“Well, you said you’re 90% sure you’re getting stood up. And I’m 100% sure that I’ve already been stood up. I know baseball isn’t really your thing but,” Steve wiggles the tickets between his fingers. “Road-rip?” “One condition,” Eddie says, pursing his lips. “I’m giving you a free ticket and day in Chicago but sure, let’s negotiate,” Steve teases. Grabbing his empty cup, Steve follows his lead as he tosses it in the trash. Eddie spins back around, heart clattering in his chest as he comes almost literally face to face with Steve who’s close enough that Eddie can smell the cologne he’d dabbed on for his date. Warm, spicy, Steve’s signature scent. Eddie hates that he knows that. When he finds his tongue again, he shakes his head and smiles, signing his own fucking death warrant for the day. “If we’re doing your date, we’ve gotta do mine, too.” Or, Eddie and Steve are set up on blind dates by Robin and Chrissy. They both get stood up. Or, do they?
wednesdays - G, complete @steddiealltheway
tags: rockstar eddie, pining, fluff, getting together
Steve stops in his tracks, all thoughts gone from his head as he does a double take at the magazine rack near the checkout. And yeah, he knows that Corroded Coffin is popular. Hell, he’s seen Eddie’s face on the same rack at least five times before. But never like this. The picture on the front page is taken at a lower angle, with Eddie clad in leather pants and a tight mesh black shirt that might be a crop top, but Steve can’t tell with the way Eddie’s guitar is covering his midriff, hands flying over the frets, showing off silver rings glimmering under the stage lights including the one that Steve helped Dustin pick out for him as a celebratory gift. But as Steve’s eyes trace over Eddie’s bare arms and the stark black tattoos, he’s led to wild curls perfectly framing Eddie’s face which stares down at the cords, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows knitted together in concentration in a way that makes Steve feel weak in the knees. And Steve’s suddenly hit with the question: Why didn’t anyone tell him that Eddie was hot???
to die by your side (is such a heavenly way to die) - T, complete @hitlikehammers
tags: limbo/near death experiences, light angst, they're in el's mind palace, getting together, fluff, happy ending
“Oh fuck, not you, too.” Steve looks up—when did he sit down, he doesn’t remember sitting down, he doesn’t remember how even got here, and hey, actually, where is here— “What?” Steve looks toward the voice; familiar. See the wreath of curls around a pale face. “This is death, right?” Eddie’s crossing over to him, crouching just beside; “I’m dead, like, I am very sure I’m dead, but you’re here, so—“ “I don’t,” Steve breathes in sharp—tries to get his bearings, tries to see but it’s just black in every direction, his lungs feel like they’re halved in size all of sudden, everything feels tight and painful and hard like inhaling isn’t something guaranteed, and his heartbeat feels like it’s dragging the carcass of something with it when it pumps, laborious and— He’s is breathing, though, even if it’s kinda half-assed; he’s got a heartbeat, even if it feels like it’s about to fucking give out. That doesn’t…that doesn’t sound like death.
if devotion is a river, then i'm floating away - E, 6.4k, complete @starryeyedjanai
tags: drummer steve, post-s4, corroded coffin, getting together, handjobs, blowjobs
“So when you said someone was paying you to get lessons for the past six months, you weren't talking about some middle schooler interested in doing marching band?” Eddie asks, slamming the fridge door harder than necessary. Sorry, Gareth’s mom. “Nope,” Gareth says, popping the ‘p’ sound. “You’re pure evil,” he says. “Why is Gareth evil and why is Steve Harrington in the garage?” Jeff asks, coming into the kitchen. or, Eddie has feelings about Steve filling in as their drummer
Tearing the Buttons Right off Your Dress - E, 5k, complete @solarmorrigan
tags: babygirl steve, roleplay, steve in panties and lingerie, established relationship
After spending the day celebrating with friends, Steve has one final birthday gift for Eddie Eddie's pretty sure this just became his favorite birthday ever
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Sleeping with Spiders
YellowJewl
Summary:
Your art had caught his eye. It was vile and unsettling and he wanted it. And thieves do take what they want after all. Though you were not so fond of that idea. It was no matter though, he could take care of you and have a little fun doing so.
Notes:
I love Feitan. Like i am down bad for him. Hes just so cute i want him to stab me and call me cute and i hate myself for that. So this is the product of all that Smut in chapter two, chapter 1 is plot i guess or whatever
Chapter 1
Before the two of you met, you were an artist. Not well known in many circles but you were proud of the pieces you had sold.
Your family on the other hand, were not as proud. As if it wasn't bad enough that you had chosen to become a freelance artist instead of going into nursing as your mother wished, your subject matter was a bit less than favorable in their eyes.
"Too grim" your father had called it.
"Were you possessed by the Devil? Whatever could have compelled you to make something so appalling!?" Your mother had screeched, refusing to mince words as your father had.
You see you always had a soft spot for horror. Your eyes would light up whenever a gorey scene played out on screen, you would become immersed in reading countless horror mangas, and while other children feared blood and the monsters that creeped within their closets, you had embraced all of it. You loved gore. There was just something about it, maybe the aesthetic, the taboo, but whatever it was made your heart race.
So of course the prints you sold were painted to be unapologetically bloody and disturbing. Body horror was a favorite among clientele, mutilation, faces and limbs sprouting from severed body parts, and or gratuitous shows of violence. The canvas was littered with blades, blood, and bodies and you liked it that way. You weren't the only one. 
It was a cold October night when you were having your first gallery show in a long while. You assume that as everyone neared the "spookier" season as it were, they were a bit more comfortable viewing your work. You weren't one to complain, business is business.
You stand next to the craft services, never wandering too far away so that you can continuously stuff your face with fancy cheese and cheap crackers. The show seemed to be going quite well so far but unfortunately it didn't look like many buyers were out tonight. 
"(Y/N). Pst!" A gallery worker waves you over towards them and you reluctantly leave the safe haven of your charcuterie boards. "Do you see that man over there in the suit? The short one, black hair?" They say pointing towards a gallery patron standing in front of one of your larger pieces, staring up at it. "He's been looking at it for a long time. I think he might buy it, you should go over there and seal the deal." They say giving you a little nudge.
You give your shoulders a shrug, a bit reluctant to speak to anyone tonight. "If they buy it, they buy it. If not, that's fine."
The gallery worker furrows thier brows at you, "(Y/N), all night you have got nothing but people wandering in here like it's just some haunted house attraction. You finally have a potential buyer and you don't even care? Do you want to sell tonight or not"
You let out an exasperated sigh from the stern talking to, knowing that they're right, and begin to trudge over towards the man.
As you grow nearer, you are able to better make out his appearance. His raven black hair falls just above his shoulders in length and frames his pale face. You're a bit surprised at just how short he actually is up close. Probably just below five foot if you had to guess. But despite his stature he possesses an almost lethal aura about him and when his sharp grey eyes dart to meet yours, fear itself almost makes you turn tail and run. But you don't.
"Ya like it?" You say sticking a thumb out at the peice.
"... It's vile." He answers after a short pause. 
"Thanks," you drawl out sarcastically, it wasn't something you hadn't heard before. At least he was honest, though. Sleeping with Spiders was one of the largest pieces in this collection with a height of seven feet and depicting a lifesize woman laying across the canvas. Or rather strung up by her ankles. From her ankles to her throat the nude was wrapped up in silver thin spider's thread that was pulled tight against her skin, binding her and leaving cuts where the web was too taught. From her mouth a hoard of spiders erupted in waves of black bile, covering the woman's face but leaving room to reveal her cold dead eyes.
"I like it a lot." He said as the two of you stared at it in silence.
You don't know if it's the way he said it or just the cadence of his raspy hushed voice but the tips of your ears grew red hot at the praise. "Thanks", you muttered again, this time a bit quieter and more sincere.
"You painted it?" He tilts his head at you, his sentence structure is a bit choppy and you wonder if this isn't his first language.
"Y-yeah… I did, I painted everything in here." You stutter out feeling a bit flustered as his icy eyes pierce through you.
"And that's you?" He asked, pointing at the piece. 
In a way it did resemble you a bit. You shared the same skin tone, though the painting's was more muted and drained. You wondered if you had subconsciously chosen to paint your hair. Heck, even though most of the face was submerged in insects, even the cold dead eyes resembled yours. "I guess." You said as you studied it a bit closer. It hadn't even occurred to you that you had put little pieces of yourself in the work.
The silence between the two of you was thick but not in a suffocating way. You were used to gallery snobs that would march in and talk out their asses to fill the quiet and make themselves sound smarter than they actually were. This was different. It was nice. Welcomed. And it actually made you want to talk to him more.
"Have you read Trevor Brown?" He finally asked, turning to you once more.
You shrug, "I've seen his work, not really into fetish art. Junji Ito and Katsuhisa Kigitsu are pretty cool." 
"What are you? A weeb?" He sneers
"So what if I am? You got a problem with that shorty?" You bite back
"Just not very realistic. Transformation Gore." He says as he gestures towards another piece across the room depicting a man hunched over as multiple arms erupt from his back like an explosion of limbs.
You give a light chuckle, "Well, with a little bit of ingenuity and a lack of morals, anything is possible." He quirks a brow at you in question. "I mean it doesn't take Dr. Frankenstein to cauterize some wounds and sew some limbs onto some new interesting places." You snort out a laugh at the mental image of your own dark joke. You look for the man's reaction, only to see his face turned away from you. Had you gone too far with that one? You thought you had been keeping the conversation pretty tame.
"Are you any good?... At sewing?" The man asks as he turns back to you, his expression now twisted into a wicked smirk. 
Your eyes widen and a faint blush takes to your cheeks. You aren't sure why, it wasn't like he had said something romantic, maybe it was the insinuation of his words that made your heart beat so fast. You laugh off the feeling as you flash him a smile and answer, "I'm not as good with a needle as I am with a paint brush but, I can get the job done." And as if your heart wasn't beating enough, he hits you with another amused grin.
You try to recover as you remember why you came over in the first place. "So um- Uh, were you looking to buy?" You ask, gesturing to Sleeping with Spiders . 
The man's face returns to that of boredom when he answers, "Not sure yet. Show still happening tomorrow? 'Might come back to buy it then."
Your face falls, "Oh. I probably won't see you then. Tonight's actually my last night in town. I'm supposed to be leaving early tomorrow morning and if the gallery sells anything, they're just going to mail me a check or something."
"Moving?"
"I guess. Don't know where to yet, though. Been thinking about just dropping off the face of the earth for a bit, get a cabin in the woods and just paint. You know, revel in that total isolation."
Beside you he clicks his tongue as he shakes his head, "what a shame." You wonder if he's really upset that this may be your first and last time seeing each other. It's odd, but the prospect of never seeing this stranger again, kind of twists you up inside as well. 
You nod, "Yeah. What a shame."
The two of you stare ahead at the piece in silence. The quiet music playing from the gallery speakers in the background and the chatter of the gallery's other patrons, seem so distant as you two stand stagnant in your own little world.
Finally you dig through your purse and pull out a small business card. Handing it to him you say, "Here. I don't know if I'll even get cell reception where I'm going but, if you don't buy this piece, maybe I can do a commission for you sometime. Or um- you know if I'm ever back in town maybe we can catch a movie sometime. I obviously love horror but I'm open to any genre." He gingerly takes the piece of paper in his hands as he stares down at it. "That would be nice, right?"
He doesn't say a word but the small nod of his head says a thousand. You were quite excited at the prospect of seeing this man once more one day. What you didn't know was how soon that day would come.
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djs-den · 2 years
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i’ve been wanting more canine posts lately and someone once told me “if something doesn’t exist yet, create it” so heres my 10 tips on how to feel more doggy like
hold things with your mouth - make sure the thing your holding is clean ofc. i always hold my phone in my mouth when my hands are full but i occasionally hold clothes and light bags. makes me feel like a good boy fetching my stuff
eat treats! - im a domestic dog so treats to me look more like biscuits and crackers but jerky is also a great option. i like to make my own and shape it like little bones. if anyone wants some easy recipes just ask. i like to reward myself after doing a task by eating a cookie
wiggle wiggle - i dont have a tail so i like to wiggle when im happy. it doesnt look too strange to strangers and gives me species euphoria. i like to wag my foot when i sit down and shake side to side when im standing.
wear affirming clothes - im not just talking about collars and tails. anything that makes you feel more like yourself. i have this brown fleece hoodie in the colour of my fur and wear a bandanna around my neck like a collar. anything that makes you feel happy
make sounds - i like to make a little ʷᵒᵒᶠ under my breath like a sigh. some people find vocalisations weird so i like to blend it in a way it sounds natural like whining a bit when im feeling sad or bored or bark my words out by saying it loud and quick like HEY!!
walk near nature - i live in a city dense area where theres not alot of (safe) parks nearby. so i always hang around near trees and grass to feel more connected with nature. if you can go to a park or forest then thats amazing. taking time to admire nature feels good
act playful - this is more for puppies or domestic dogs. i like to walk around my friends when we talk and move around. i cant exactly play-bow in the middle of a busy sidewalk so i usually lean on a surface or wiggle around.
ask for affection - im lucky to be surrounded by people who like to show their affection. either by verbal praise or physical touch like hugs. if you dont have access to acts like this then ask (if its safe). sometimes i just ask my parents for a hug or show something im proud of. you can also write down some affirmations on a note and remind yourself that you are perfect the way you are ◡̈
sleep dog-like - most ppl cant roll themselves into a ball but you can definitely hug a pillow. i like to sleep in a fetal position and with my back to the headboard but thats cuz im smaller than my bed. just be careful and make sure your in a comfortable position and not straining. making your bed nest like also fun.
eat out of bowls - sounds like a silly thing to say but i always feel puppy like when i eat from a bowl and not a plate. small things to make you feel more in tune with your true self
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ghostradiodylan · 6 months
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Hey it’s the anon who sent in the ask for sick headcanons-thank you so much for the headcanons i really love them and i agree 100% with them!!!
I also can see Emma owning those overpriced touchland hand sanitizers that are in Sephora lol-Kaitlyn thinks Emma is wasting her money but she doesn’t care
I saw another post with headcanons about Nick being a stoner and I think it’s worth mentioning that marijuana works wonders for stomach pain and nausea! I can see Nick having tummy issues 100% and I feel like he would be lactose intolerant too and would drink almond milk instead
Jacob turns into an ASPCA commercial whenever he gets sick and Kaitlyn is so over it lmfao
And I feel like Ryan would be a huge germaphobe. Idk why but I can see him wearing a hazmat suit if Dylan got sick and he had to take care of him xD
YW anon! Thanks for the ask! These check out to me too, if Ryan wasn't in a hazmat suit he'd at least be aggressively sanitizing everything. You get used to sharing some germs with a partner but not sick germs!
Good point about the marijuana. Nick’s just taking his medicine! That and a buuunch of Lactaid pills!
Cracking up at ASPCA commercial Jacob!
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Sarah McLachlan voice: Every day, helpless jocks near you suffer horribly from the Man Cold. For just a few dollars a day and several hours of your life, you can coddle your giant manchild friend in his hour of need. Your donation will provide soup, crackers, Gatorade, so many tissues, and a long-suffering friend to sit through his favorite comfort movies for the thousandth time, at a safe distance.
[Cut to Kaitlyn, sitting on the other end of the couch, wearing a mask and squinting at Ethan Suplee in Remember The Titans: “Huh. I'm pretty sure I kicked that guy in the crotch.”]
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trivialbob · 1 year
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Last night Sheila and I went to a little fundraiser for some foundation. It was bingo at a brewery I've never tried before.
Actually, I did once visit this brewery but left without ordering anything. There is a food vendor with a counter inside the brewery. I'd read that its smashburgers were amazing. However, the day my dad and I went there the burger people were somewhere else. I had not realized that it was more of a food tent operation, not a permanent resident of the brewery.
Last night the burgers were available. And they were amazingly delicious. They were so good that this vendor was busy last night despite itself.
There was always a short line to order at the self-serve tablet, which of course suggested a 20% tip for... waiting in line, placing the order myself, walking back when I received a text that the order was ready., and me bringing our food to our table. Other fees that weren't suggested but automatic (and not disclosed up front) were the 7.53% fee earmarked for the brewery and a nebulous 3% "service fee."
I got the feeling the burger people were cooking patties one at a time, after orders were placed. It seemed busy enough that they could have safely had a dozen or so on the griddle at any time, allowing for faster service yet not risking ending the night with cooked but unsold food.
When our order was ready it looked so good I nearly took a bite right at the counter. But I showed some restraint and waited until I was back at our table. That burger lived up to what I'd heard about it.
Our table was near the burger counter. The employees weren't surly, yet I never saw one smile or engage a customer. Maybe I missed the "eye contact" 1% surcharge.
At one point someone pushed a cart of burger trays out to the counter. A few of the uncovered trays were about six inches off the floor, next to feet and ankles. Not appealing.
But the burger was so good I'd be tempted to go back, except the vendor is moving the quasi-permanent counter somewhere else.
The beer was fine. Sheila liked her amber ale with graham cracker and honey. The rim of the glass was coated in graham cracker crumbs. I thought that was a nice touch. Tasty too.
Sheila knew a number of people there. Her sister wasn't at the fundraiser but also is in the same circle of people. One person called Sheila by her sister's name, as Sheila predicted would happen. This isn't uncommon out that way. Which surprises me because I don't think Sheila and her sister look alike at all.
Neither one of us won at bingo. The prize I had my eye on was one of those little stainless steel Solo stoves, sized for a table top. It think they look cool. REI Coop used to have the larger ones, for camp sites, but they didn't seem to sell well. REI had them steeply discounted at one time and now doesn't carry them anymore.
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ninacytosis · 3 months
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new farmer girl being a menace
ummm hey i might be writing a KENT one shot ???? it's four am bye
anyways this is a little part if anyone cares. the rest will be on my ao3 profile soon
summary: The farmer and Kent get drunk and silly. Maybe freaky. don't think about it too hard about the morality pls it's just me ovulating
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There was no particular reason for you to be there. The sun was setting and there wasn't much to do in your cottage, so you decided to take a walk in the forest. The sound of the river had a mitigating effect on all of your worries, and you felt safe after texting Leah you'd be near her house. You brought a bottle of wine and some crackers, in case you wanted to stay over at her place and chat.
    You were passing Marnie's ranch when you saw a familiar shape. It was Kent, leaning over a road sign. At first, he probably didn't realize you were then. As you got closer, you noticed his hands in his pockets and his head looking at the sky. He was so still, you felt slightly scared.
    Kent and you weren't close, but you knew his family pretty well. They sent you gifts regularly and you gave them jelly every time you went to their house. Once, Jodi invited you to dinner so you could taste one of her dishes. You also knew he used to be in the army, and he's struggling to reintegrate into the town. With the bottle in your hands, you decided that this could be a chance to bond with the man.
    At first, you could sense he felt uncomfortable, as if he wanted to talk but didn't know what to say. You got two cups out of your backpack and his hand reached for one. 
"Fancy, huh?" he mumbled after seeing they were plastic cups from your kitchen.
"Don't be ungrateful!" you joked. "It's more practical for traveling"
"Fair enough," he smiled.
    Both took a couple of sips. You felt a phone notification and remembered Leah. Her text popped up.
Hey, is everything ok? :)
    You told her that you found Kent in the woods and decided to talk to him.
Tf?? Jodi's wife?? And I thought I was an extrovert lol. Text me if you need anything, I'll probably stay working on a painting til four.
"Sorry. Some hours ago I told Leah I was coming and she just wanted to make sure I'm ok" you explained.
    He nodded. His eyes were focused on the ground as if he was planning his response in his head.
"Are you from the city?" he asked, after a minute or two.
"Yeah, I was raised in the city all my life" you replied.
"I guess I've always wanted to move to the city," he confessed. "But Jodi and the kids like it here. And don't get me started on how expensive it is to live there".
"Well, I see the appeal of city life, but I barely had time for myself. Ever since I moved here, I feel like I have way too much free time" you said. "I have like... fifty hobbies currently.".
    Kent laughed. You poured more wine into your cups and decided to sit down. He followed you and sat on the dirt. The lantern illuminated the path enough to see his eyes. Maybe it was the wine, but they seemed almost black. A  lock of hair covered part of his face, but you could notice he was loosening up.
“Maybe there are certain things I hate about the valley,” he commented. “For example, this damn forest! It’s so eerie and silent, it gets me on my nerves all the time”. 
“Then why did you come here?”
“You got me there,” he answered. “I don’t know”.
    He put one of his hands over his eyes. You pulled out your crackers, just in case the wine was too intense for him.
“I don’t really know what I’m doing these days,” he told you.
“You’re doing what you can,” you took a sip. “I might not know you well, Kent, but everyone knows that you’re a good father”.
“Might not be the best husband, though”.
    You gulped. For a moment, you started to rethink the whole situation. At this point, it was almost midnight and you were alone in the woods with a married man. On the other side, Kent was alone in the woods with a girl half his age, while his family was probably sleeping. Oh, and if that weren’t enough, both of you were finishing a bottle of wine. Tipsier than you would be proud to admit. 
.... Suscribe for more 👅
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impostorsshow · 4 months
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I'm thinking about my 7 year old oc again
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My "little" rant is below the read more so I don't clog up your feed and there's descriptions for the art with a bit more information in the alt text thingy. I add alt text with personal comments to most of my posts but I saw a post somewhere saying most people don't even realize the feature exists, so I'm just. I'm stating it here it exists I use it
While Jessica was experimented on by an entire institute, there was one main person overseeing the experiment, and that was the guy up there. The original experiment was to see what happened when you combined animal DNA with human DNA, since in this fake world genetic science is a bit farther than ours today, and this particular facility had successfully given animals different attributes, such as a rat gills and and chicken a tail like that of a cat. Despite both those creatures dying within hours, this corrupt motherfucker decided to try and get a human subject, and Jessica's family needed the money. Thankfully, not only did the test of giving her dog dna [idfk I'm a cat person give me a break on the breeds] worked, it turned out she was much harder to kill, and had not grown as expected from a 14 year old girl who's going through puberty and in turn growth spurts.
Anyway yada yada she broke out find out she's immortal whatever. Other notes :
She has a brother. I forgot his name but he did have a name, and was later submitted to the facility before her family found out she was missing at the age of 19 and survived, but he gained a compromised immune system and I might give him mobility aids. His color scheme is mainly green and yellow and I always think of those aesthetic pictures of the shoreline when I think of him. Jessica meeting her brother [now technically 23] is a very big help to her recovery, and while her brother is accepted and loved in their home town, Jessica can't bring herself to come back and usually asks him to visit her on the edge of town or at her house, usually bringing along friends. Eventually the main scientist dies by her hands and she covers it up ["cmon gromit, we have to hide the body! There's not cheese and crackers in hell, gromit!" /ref], and a few years later the facility is shut down due to malpractice and Jessica slowly starts to actually visit the town and her parents. They never have the same relationship they used to, but her parents are just happy she's safe and sound and being taken care of.
Jessica will eventually outlive Flora and inherit her belongings, as Flora lived alone her entire life, her photography career and later Jessica being more than enough to make her happy. Jess would start managing her social media when she got older, and never had the heart to delete anything, inviting her distant family to the funeral and arranging for her to be buried in the woods near her home. She's still visibly 14, and would simply live later with her brother in Floras old home and take care of it the best she could. Her story is about moving forward, and as such, you could say she has an infinite epilogue, rather than my other ocs who never get an ending, and the ones that do are frozen at the very end of it, not meant to go any further.
Jessica isnt meant to be aroace, but I heavily imply it because her never aging causes complications, and this isn't really a vampire example. She and her brother are the only one of their kind, and her brother is still destined to fall at some point, aging slowed dramatically rather than completely stopped. I used to consider giving her a love interest for hours on end, but eventually her being 14 would interrupt it and I just gave up. Flora however, is aroace, sex adverse and is the reason she chose the lifestyle she did.
Speaking of Flora, dispite living in the middle of nowhere in the woods, she's quite the extrovert. She loves nature, and used to be a wildlife ranger before her photography career took off, and often travels around the world to capture wildlife. When she found Jessica and found out she had run away from home, and didn't ask any questions after until they had more trust built up between them, simply providing shelter and care that eventually became a permanent roommate situation. She slowly worked up to taking jobs around the world again, but now that Flora had someone to come back home to, she booked her flights to make sure she could be home as much as possible. I think if Jessica was a normal girl and somehow found her way to Flora, they would spend weeks in Paris and Britain together, Flora never leaving Jessica behind on her trips. Unfortunately, werewolf science experiments would never get past TSA.
I don't know if I've ever said this but hey I'll say it again she used to have actual wolf dna, hence werewolf, hence Jessica Winterwolf, but I learned to draw wolf ears from gacha life and I genuinely didn't know what to do about it and couldn't think of another way of drawing them without them looking like cat ears, so I just made them floppy like a pug. Also Winterwolf is because winter is Jessica's favorite season.
Similarly with Jessica's ears originally being gacha life, I actually conceptualized her fully for the first time with a designed I liked in there, and one of the bits that stuck was the fact that she has crescent shaped pupils that are a lavender shade.
Her existence was heavily inspired by a series named "Harrowed Past" which has now been taken down by the creator, but the characters still live on, you can probably find it if you search up "pip and twitch thedragonhat" which I think is who made it?? Oh well I'll edit the post later if I'm wrong. Twitch was actually the first piece of art/fanart I ever made with the purpose of getting better at art, and I really wish i still had it, but I can't even find a picture i took of it or anything. Unfortunately, the character is really hard to find since his name is shared with the giant streaming site Twitch. I haven't watched the guys stuff in a long while but I think he uses twitch as his main vtuber for streaming nowadays which is cool.
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I've spent a couple of months having a near nervous breakdown due to type 1 diabetes (which I've had for 20 years), unstable blood sugar levels, water retention, and everyone around me getting skinny when I have to sit here pretending to give a shit about my overall health.
I think I've figured out a way to slowly drop weight and water without losing control of my illness or letting the ED win but it's so difficult. I want to see instant results. I want to let my body fall into ketosis and see 2lbs drop off me a day but I can't do that.
My current eating/workout plan is as follows:
Breakfast
Black coffee with 1 sweetner
20g of carb so I can have insulin
Lunch
Water (500ml)
A salad with enough crackers to make up to 20g of carb (again, just for the insulin)
Dinner
Water (500ml)
Salad or grilled veggies (no oil). Insulin to correct my blood sugar if needed
If i want something sweet, a small bowl of sugar free jello
I'm trying to go on a 3-5 mile walk every day, if I can't do this for whatever reason I will spend a good hour on the exercise bike. I also constantly play with resistance bands to try and gain muscle and tone by body.
I'm trying to not focus on weighing myself because if I start focusing on my weight it will consume me but I have noticed a 2in reduction in size off my waist and 2in off my hips. I started this in February.
It is so painfully difficult to be an outwardly "normal" woman in your 30s when inside you are a mess. I have a decent job, a reasonable life, I just dream of the day I'm tiny again but I refuse to once again make myself desperately ill to get there. The desire never leaves, I'm just trying to take charge and do this as safely as I possibly can.
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nyxknocks · 8 months
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This. Movie. Made me. SO. Angry.
I just finished it and I'm hoping this comes across as coherent and cohesive because boy, did this movie piss me off. It was honestly genius. With the first movie, I didn't get why this guy was so well known and well loved but I'm happy to say this movie changed that opinion but also like in the worst way because ow.
Strap in because this is gonna be A Lot.
Shige is possibly the worst person I've ever seen and that includes Hannibal the Cannibal like I hated her. Violently. Koichi and Keizo also suck. Basically everyone but Tomi, Shukichi, Noriko, and Kyoko suck like. massively. Selfish, arrogant, prideful people. Like, parents or no parents, you treat people with common respect? Decorum? But its made worse by the fact these are your parents! And you treated them like the biggest burdens when they traveled so far at their age to come see your ungrateful self in Tokyo!!!!!!! Oh my god I'm fuming. "They're fine with crackers", "Use my old slippers", "Oh can I have her summer kimono". !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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I need to stop. Like, I had a doc open of my running commentary so I wouldn't forget and 90% of it is me absolutely ranting and raving about these awful, awful children. Not Noriko though she's perfect, precious, incredible.
ANYWAY.
Obviously, the terrible children was the point Ozu was trying to make. It's very obviously a "this generation vs. the older generation" type of movie. The parents are shown most often in traditional garb instead of the more corporate "western" (if you could really even call it that because that feels reductive and near-sighted as an American) outfits. They make a point on the way to Tokyo to show the smokestacks that come with industrialization that counteracts the image on the way back to Onomichi of the traditional palaces, clothes on the line, "clean" air. These felt extremely on the nose, but you could also argue that the shipping boats in the water that they show while home at Onomichi are those industrialized/capitalism views essentially encroaching on the once clean or safe area and thus clean and safe ideals. So, I definitely see that anti-capitalistic approach in this movie, but I don't feel like it's the most important aspect that he was trying to show? Would likely require a second watch for me to expand on this thought further as much of the movie was spent of me swearing at the screen because I hated these people so much.
There is also this metronome/ticking sound throughout the entire film that I didn't really pick up on until the scene with Shukichi visiting the Hattori's, where it was almost overwhelming how fast it was. My initial reaction of that was a sense of mortality, because it added to what Tomi was saying basically from the jump. From the moment she got to Tokyo it felt like she knew something was up and that time was running out for her, because the moment she was alone with her youngest grandson Isamu she talks about how she'll never live to see what he can become. You could argue that's a normal thing grandparents would say even at 68, but it feels more important when you take into consideration how she acts and what she says throughout the film. Even before she felt dizzy at Atami, she would often touch her left arm, and then of course after that it was pointed out by Noriko. She even told Noriko that after she left Tokyo she wouldn't see her again, and reiterated that with Shige by telling them not to bother visiting because Onomichi is so far away. It's like she knew for sure she would not see her children again.
This is clearly intentional because its reinforced at the end when you hear the ticking again right before/while Tomi is in a coma (I believe I heard it here, honestly I don't entirely remember. It might've been just at the end in general), and then again by both Kyoko looking at her watch as the train with Noriko on it leaves Onomichi as well as the watch that Shukichi gifts Noriko on Tomi's behalf. Time is a looming presence from the beginning because the first few lines of the whole movie is about what time their train leaves. It was actually genius how Ozu went about showing this because it felt so subtle until it fully slapped you in the face.
Another brilliant thing he did was opening at the close, as I like to call it. The ending scenes mirrored the opening scenes nearly identically only with the obvious difference of Tomi no longer being alive. Noriko takes the place of Tomi packing, Kyoko is still packing up and leaving for work, Noriko replaces Koichi's wife Fumiko's cleaning as she cleans up the home before she leaves, etc. Even the neighbor coming to say her piece. It reminds me of Hadestown and how they do the reprise. The scenes are essentially the same with added context that makes it devastating. Brilliant. I might be gushing a little bit.
The cinematography was also excellent (for the most part) [I say for the most part because sometimes the cuts between close ups + line delivery felt like an old 90s rpg game]. Knowing that Ozu is known for the stationary shots made it a little easier to digest, but as a modern viewer it is so unsettling how still the shots are, especially because throughout most of them the actors/characters are spiking the camera and looking right at you, full eye contact. It's unnerving and really puts you into the middle of the story. It makes you feel like you are physically apart of it, every awkward scene. It forces you not to look away. The choice of long silence stretching throughout enhances this feeling. You have to bare witness to the travesty that is going to befall this poor couple because their children are the worst. There is even a part where they consider themselves lucky still but the awkward silence and the way their faces fall after kind of tells you all you need to know. They know their children are selfish and shitty.
It's also dynamic. Most of the "action" takes place either off to the side of the camera or out of sight because of the angle (re: the hot spring game table scene. You can't see any of the action. Most of the dinner scenes there is a back to the camera. Fumiko walking in and out of frame cleaning). It makes the world feel 3D with the layering that adds to that sense of you being physically present within the world. It's really impressive how he managed to capture that sense with such little actual camera work.
The final song is extremely on the nose about how the new generation is selfish. Still a nice touch.
I could keep going. Noriko and Kyoko are perfect. The rest are awful and selfish and don't deserve anything good. Shige is a vulture. Ugly (in the heart), nasty, and hunting and pecking over her mother's dead body for free stuff. And has the audacity to criticize Kyoko and Noriko for not having mourning clothes? They're grieving, you wretch! Oh I hate her fr.
Also the fire escape/stairs scene when Noriko was taking Tomi and Shukichi around Tokyo (because their awful terrible biological children refused to make time for them omgihatethemsomuch) just reminded me of the Penrose Steps. I have no idea if that's intentional but it just made me a little uncomfortable.
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The Pennyworth Family
Alfred has a family outside of the Waynes. Well, technically. He is the godfather to a meta woman who got married and now has kids. These kids refer to him as Alfie, or in Morina-his eldest granddaughters- case, Papa A. Alfred lives for his family, but they don’t live near Gothem so he rarely sees them… ish.
You see his family are meta humans with unusually strong powers. So strong I face that Duke once caught a glimpse of one of them and claimed it looked like he was staring at the sun. So sometimes Morina- who had spatial/cosmic and mental/soul manipulation powers- would teleport her family in for a few days to hang out.
But you see, the Wayne family didn’t know that Alfred had another family. They knew he had an apartment in Gothem where he would occasionally stay, but most of the time he was in the manor. And he never really asked for off days so they didn’t believe he had anyone else.
So imagine Jason’s surprise when he climbed in the window to Alfred’s secret apartment because he was shot, only to see a tall, tattooed, black haired, Hispanic woman standing in the kitchen with a mug filled with green tea. He was about to sound the alarm, someone had broken into Alfred’s apartment, when she set down the mug and started rambling.
“God damnit, Papa A and his stupid obsession with helping super heroes and offering safe places and food. He can’t just adopt every stray he sees.” She walked over and grabbed his shoulder slightly, moving to lay him down on a plastic covered couch before getting a kit and cutting the fabric away from the wound.
“And of course it causes me to work off the clock,” she said, digging for the bullet with tweezers. The projectile came out surprisingly easily all things concidered. “Because I of course shouldn’t experience rest.” She took out her materials and began to clean and stitch up his wound. After she was done she stood up and Jason, mask still on, followed her until he felt something holding him down.
“No, you sit down and rest, I may not have my mothers healing but I do have her cooking.” She moved back to the kitchen, taking a pot off the stove that I didn’t see before and stirred it a few times before grabbing two ceramic bowls and ladling the soup into them. She grabbed a sleeve of crackers from the pantry and moved next to him again.
“Hi,” she said, giving him a bowl, “I’m Agent A’s granddaughter- call me Neutron in the field- and I’m typically open for late night stitchings and soup. Like tonight. It’s clam chowder by the way.”
Jason, for the first time in his life, understood what love at first sight meant.
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