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#Only limited by my imagination
mugwot · 4 months
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lets go gamers
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(part 3 of November Paramedic; part 2 is here.)
When Gareth mentioned a plan to locate Eddie’s paramedic in shining armor, Eddie assumed it'd be him getting into various accidents all over Indianapolis. It's something the little shit would've found funny, okay! But, Gareth's plan is much less hazardous and slightly more logical: lurk around the university until they spot him. Like a pair of drug dealers trying to tempt the goody-two-shoes protagonist into addiction and sin on an 80s Saturday morning cartoon.
It's not the simplest task since they don't know when Steve might be there. Also, other responsibilities mean they can only spare so many hours loitering. So, thirteen days post-hatching plan and nineteen days post-meeting Steve (not that Eddie's been counting or anything), with nothing to show for their ethically questionable behavior, Eddie is ready to give up. Especially since both of them have a rare simultaneous day off. Usually, those are spent jamming, smoking, playing D&D… literally anything other than this.
"This is fucking stupid," he says, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "We're not gonna run into him."
"Sure we are," Gareth says. He drops his butt among the dozens they've chain-smoked and lights another without meeting Eddie's gaze. "We're getting closer. I can feel it."
"The only thing you're feeling is delusional. It's time to give up."
"Eddie, c'mon-"
"Nope." One last drag and Eddie stomps out his cig. "Fuck this; I'm out."
He stalks toward his van at the far end of the parking lot. Gareth curses before running after him.
"Dude!" he exclaims, jogging to keep up with Eddie's longer strides. "You can't just give up! What about what you said-"
"I was being stupid. What was I even imagining? We orchestrate another meeting and, what, I use my freakish wiles and seduce him? And then we'll live happily ever after…" Eddie shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. He'd probably turn out to be a douche anyhow."
"No, listen!" Gareth seizes Eddie's arm and yanks him to a stop in the middle of the lot. "You always do this. Self-sabotage and cut things short, even when there's potential."
Eddie scoffs. "You know what else always happens? I end up liking them more than they like me. It's not fun."
"You don't know it'll be like that this time. You have to try."
"No."
Eddie takes a step back. He's done; he's out. Gareth reaches for his wrist to pull him back in. He jerks away, almost losing his footing and stumbling into the burgundy car behind him. Gareth's arms shoot out to help, but Eddie steadies himself before crashing. For a second, silence reigns as they assure everyone's on solid ground. Then Eddie opens his mouth to once and for all-
"Eddie? Gareth?"
Their heads snap to the side, eyes landing on… Max? Looking unusually dressy in high-waisted shorts and a fitted top under an oversized jacket, and her hair in a high ponytail. She's got her skateboard under her arm, a messenger bag with a textbook sticking out, and a confused furrow between her eyebrows.
"What are you doing here?" she asks.
Fuck. They can't tell her the truth – she'll never let him live it down. Fortunately, Gareth realizes this too, because he says:
"Uh, I go to school here? What are you doing here? The math building is way over there."
She rolls her eyes and leans on the burgundy car. It's a shiny BMW M5 – the limited anniversary edition. Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie almost dented that thing! It's worth more than his life. And Max is slouching against it like it's nothing. He could warn her not to scratch it, but she's unlikely to care; she's always been metal that way.
"Waiting for my friends," she says. "We have dinner on Tuesdays."
Eddie's ears ignite. Dinner? With friends? While wearing what's basically a date outfit?
"Ooohhh…" he says, sharing a grin with Gareth. "And do these friends include someone special?"
She shrugs, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"C'mon, Red! You're killing me! I need to know if he's good enough for you."
His fingers hover over her ponytail, as if to tug at it. She slaps his hand away.
"You're annoying."
He laughs. This terrible day just became infinitely better. He won't rest until he gets what he wants – or until she punches him, which'll probably come first. He's about to tell her so when a voice calls her name. Both turn to look, and…
It's a boy Max's age. He's beaming and waving, quickening his steps toward her. She smiles too, almost shyly, as she waves back. It's the perfect opportunity for teasing, if Eddie's day hadn't just become infinitely better.
His tongue is heavy, his skin is itching, his heart is bruising his ribs from the inside. Sweat is gathering in his pits and it's getting a little hard to breathe. Because walking half a pace behind the boy, carrying a huge duffel with such ease it might actually be stuffed with feathers, is… is…
"Yesssss!" Gareth hisses next to him. He may also be fist-pumping. Eddie isn't looking.
"Hey!" The boy stops in front of Max. "Sorry, practice ran late."
"It's okay," she says, cooler than ice, though her eyes are glittering. "I just got here."
She says something else, or maybe the boy does? It's all background noise, because Steve has caught up. Steve, in jeans and a polo that must've been tailored to his exact measurements because oooooooooohhhh boy. Steve, unshouldering the bag, muscles shifting and straining under his shirt with the movement. Steve, smiling, his golden eyes flying over Eddie.
"Hey! Eddie and Gareth, right?"
Eddie draws a sharp breath. He remembers!
"Y-Yeah!" he squeaks, hands fluttering to either wave or shake hands, ultimately doing neither. "Hi! You're here!"
"I am," Steve says, casual, as if inane conversations with former patients happen on the regular.
(It better not – Eddie doesn't do well in competitive settings.)
Max, keen eyes darting between them, asks, "You know each other?"
"Met at work," Steve says. "Or, I was working and he…"
"Ah." Max taps her temple. "That."
"How do you know them?" the boy asks her.
She points at Eddie. "Neighbor. And that's the guy who dumpster dives outside our apartment building."
Gareth flips her off. Eddie would laugh, but he's busy pretending he doesn't know what Steve looks like shirtless. It's hard (pun slowly growing more relevant) – his gaze keeps dropping to the polo's undone top button. Steve is just as gorgeous out of uniform, and now Eddie's thighs are tingling with want. He could stare at him forever…
Unfortunately, 'forever' is cut short by a woman arriving in a flurry. Wait, no. 'Flurry' implies some sort of graceful whimsy, while this person… she's a hurricane crashing into a house.
"Sorry I'm late! Nielsen wouldn't stop talking and got angry when people started leaving because it's an important lecture so this girl called him out for not keeping time because he goes on all these tangents and he said they're interesting tidbits and she said it's disrespecting our time and-" She pauses for breath. "You don't care, do you?"
Max, Steve, and the boy shake their heads.
"Right. Sorry." The woman turns to Eddie and Gareth. "Hi! I'm Robin. And you are?"
"My neighbor and his friend. Steve treated his concussion," Max rattles off, glaring at them. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"
Gareth frowns. "I told you," he says, pointing at the building. "School." He points at himself. "Student."
Max glares harder. "You don't have class on Tuesdays. And Eddie doesn't go here at all."
"I had stuff I needed to drop off."
"Is tagging along a crime? Jesus."
Max doesn't reply, though her glare remains.
Robin hums. "Okay, so this is super-enjoyable, I love just standing around, but I'm starving, so…" She looks at Steve, who nods.
"Yeah, we're going," he says, but neither moves. He glances at Eddie, which makes her glance at Eddie, and then they make a series of eyebrow-movements at each other, ending in a shared smile. Steve asks, "Have you guys eaten yet?"
Eddie shakes his head, pulse racing. Is this going where he thinks it is?
"D'you wanna come with? There's this diner we like…"
Holyshityesitis!
"Yeah!" Fuck, too eager. "I mean, uh, sure, sounds good."
"Cool." Grinning, Steve clicks a remote car key; the burgundy BMW beeps. What the fuck? How high is a paramedic's salary?! "Did you drive here?"
"I, uh…" Eddie falters. Shit, wasn't he supposed to? It's been three weeks and he feels fine – he thought he was in the green!
"Nope! I did!" Gareth says, 'proving' it by hauling his house keys from his pocket and jingling them.
Steve nods. "Should be safe for you to drive again, but the less strain you put on your brain, the better. Even a mild concussion isn't anything to sneeze at."
"Y-Yeah, I've been taking it easy. Basically done nothing. Until now."
Max snorts. Eddie is going to pour coffee through her mail slot.
They decide Eddie and Gareth will follow Steve's car to the diner, since Steve can't fit all of them (the real reason he asked if they drove here, duh). It's good because Eddie gets the chance to panic/gush/collect himself in the privacy of his van. It's bad because Gareth drives, lest their fib be revealed. Gareth spends the ten-minute journey gloating about driving Eddie's beloved girl, interspersed with 'I told you so!'s.
The diner is cozy, all wooden furniture and sepia photographs on the walls. A graying waitress who smells like tobacco directs them to a booth and takes their orders. An awkward silence then falls as they wait for someone to speak.
The boy clears his throat. "My name is Lucas, by the way. I don't think I said." After shaking his hand and introducing themselves, Lucas says to Eddie, "I think Max has mentioned you."
"Oh yeah? I've been dying for her to mention y- Ow!"
Eddie rubs where Max kicked his shin. Her glare is murderous. Lucas is blushing happily, though.
"So, what d'you guys do?" Robin asks.
Right. Time to small-talk like adults. Eddie gets his job as a mechanic out of the way, then gives the word to Gareth, who tells them he's a creative writing major. Robin turns out to be getting a masters in linguistics and Lucas studies biology.
"I don't actually know what I want to do, but biology feels broad enough to give me options, y'know? I can go to med school, or forensics, or, I don't know, paleontology?" he says. Max glows brighter with every word that comes out of his mouth. Cute.
This then segues into talking about their friends, who by the sound of it lead incredibly interesting lives.
"Dustin's at MIT, Mike's at Oxford, Will's in San Francisco…" Lucas says, counting on his fingers.
Max interjects, "El's in Africa building houses and teaching kids English."
"Erica is still at home, finishing high school and drowning in early acceptance letters to, like, every Ivy League there is," Steve says with a look of pure pride.
"Nancy and Jonathan – they're our age – are chasing scoops in Afghanistan… " Robin says.
"... and Argyle is also in California," Lucas finishes.
Eddie whistles. "And here we are, still in Indianapolis."
"Dude, I'm surprised I got this far," Steve says. "Wouldn't've managed without her."
He jerks a thumb in Robin's direction, who preens at the acknowledgment. Robin's cool, Eddie decides. Garrulous but fun and nice… and verrrrrrrrry close to Steve. The kind of close where they're always in each other's space. Where they wordlessly transfer food between their plates. Where Steve unceremoniously wipes a speck of ketchup off Robin's chin after she repeatedly fails to get it. They're comfortable, but not necessarily romantically affectionate. Like they're siblings rather than lovers.
(Dear God, if you are in heaven, let them be siblings.)
Conversation flows. They joke around, tell stories, swap opinions. Robin gets passionate about tonal shifts when stage shows are adapted to film, and Eddie tries not to stare at Steve's mouth as he eats. And then, once their plates are cleaned and they're waiting for dessert, Gareth leans his elbows on the table and fixes Steve with a purposeful look.
"I figured out where I've seen you before."
Eddie stiffens.
Steve blinks. "At campus, right?"
"Thought so, but no. I realized it's actually…" Gareth chuckles. "It's ridiculous, but uh, my mom had this calendar…"
Steve recoils, red flooding his face. Robin, Lucas, and Max shriek in delight, Robin grabbing Steve's arm and shaking it as he hides behind his hands.
"And my mom," Gareth says between bursts of laughter, "she's shameless, all right? She kept it in our kitchen. So during, what was it, November?"
"November," Steve confirms, muffled.
"For 30 days, if I wanted to check the date or make a notation… I saw you."
Tears stream down Robin's face, she's laughing so hard. She and Max have started chanting 'Slut! Slut! Slut!' at the still crimson Steve.
"You don't understand," Lucas says, gesturing for emphasis. "We've been waiting for someone to come up and say 'hey, weren't you…?' for years. Thank you so much!"
"Hey, thank my mom," Gareth says. Eddie's quite stunned he'd throw his own mother under the bus like that. She's a really nice person, too!
"Makes sense," Max says. "Moms love Steve."
"All parents do," Lucas says.
Cackling, Robin pinches Steve's cheek. "Gotta hide your mom and your dad around Steve!"
Steve bats her off, flushed but smiling. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You got your wish, now shut it."
That only makes the three restart the chant to ridicule him for his harlotry. Steve's indignant squawk that 'it was for charity!' merely has everyone laugh more.
And Eddie? Well. As he sits beholding this man who works as a paramedic and drives a luxury car, who models for charity and allows his friends to mock him for it, who blushes and giggles when they lovingly call him a whore…
All Eddie can think is that he's in fucking trouble.
Afterward, it only makes sense for Eddie to drive Max home. Steve shakes his hand outside the diner, saying it was nice to see him again. Eddie, not knowing how to ask for Steve's contact info without seeming weird, agrees. He waits until the BMW drives off, then tells Gareth to get the fuck out of his seat. Gareth relocates to the backseat, whining since Max already called shotgun.
The initial minutes, they're quiet. Then Max turns to Gareth and says:
"When were you telling me Eddie is your mom?"
"Huh?"
"You said you knew about the calendar because of your mom. But that's not true."
The warmth drains from Eddie's face; his knuckles crack around the steering wheel. Gareth's expression is the epitome of 'oh shit' when he meets Eddie's gaze in the rear-view mirror.
"Yes, it is," Gareth says.
"It's not," Max says.
"It is!"
"It's not! The calendar was for 2021, and in November '21 you were a freshman and had already moved into the dorms! If your mom kept it in her kitchen, you wouldn't have seen it!"
She scowls at Gareth, mouth pinched and eyes flashing, daring him to contradict her.
Gareth swallows thickly. "It… wasn't for 2021."
"Yes, it was."
"How do you know?"
She puts her hands in her lap and lifts her chin, almost primly. Eddie gasps as the penny drops.
Gareth screams, "WHAT!"
"You have it?" Eddie cries. "Why do you have it?"
She scoffs. "You know why – you've seen his pecs."
"I don't- Okay, how're you so sure it's me?"
"Because you spent all of dinner looking like you wanted to crawl inside his mouth and live there." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I hope it was his mouth you want to crawl into-"
She's cut off by Gareth shouting "I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala-"
Eddie crumples in his seat. He's depleted of blood, air, life, everything. Behind, Gareth is grilling Max for information: are Steve and Robin together? Is Steve single? Is he queer?
Max replies: no, yes, and 'that's not for me to tell, moron'.
Gareth nods, satisfied. "That means he is. If he was straight, you'd say so." He slaps Eddie's arm. "You got a shot, man!"
"You… don't know that…" Eddie wheezes.
Max tuts, shaking her head. "You actually want to hit on my chauffeur."
"He prefers the term 'seduce'," Gareth says.
Eddie smacks his face into the steering wheel at the next red light.
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Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll,
I won't be adding more to the tag list because there are already so many of you. Instead, I'll be tagging the four remaining parts (it'll definitely be seven in total, btw) as #steddie fic: november paramedic. Hopefully, they'll show up in the tags and you'll see them that way.
Thank you for reading 🖤
Part 4
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todayisafridaynight · 7 months
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journalists underestimate the magnitude of my addiction and how far i'll go for the bit
#snap chats#im lying i physically could not marathon this i got school LMAO BUT IMAGINE#my god speaking of school i signed up for a japanese history class. because of course i did#i also needed an extra class and i didnt know what else to put LMAO but i might swap it or somn#thinkin i should get back into theater..... i got like two months to decide anyway#i was thinking about how im gonna play IW during streams... if the lord will let me i might stream for 2~3 hours or so#im putting such a small time limit due to Aforementioned School but also idk if my computer can record any longer than that#when i tried saving the video to my flashdrive it only lasted about two some hours right ? maybe 3 if i remember right#i decided to record to my computer's hard drive instead of the usb since it has more space so maybe i can record longer#ill prob do a test run later today and record a nonsense video. i WILL delete it i just wanna see what the limit is#cause my plan is to just Record One -> Upload It -> Delete OG yk. Lazy Susan type of plan#didnt mean to type out my whole gameplan in the tags LOL BUT HEY I WANTED TO TALK BOUT IT AT SOME POINT#my final message is that ive Hopefully preordered the ichi statue. i say Hopefully cause i am once again doing it through jp rabbit#and i didnt get the confirmation it was successful yet so I Will Simply Wait.#point is it was a lot cheapter than i thought it was going to be <3 yay <3#ok im running out of tags tl;dr im gonna marathon IW until my eyes bleed BYYYE
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avisaurea2 · 1 year
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The Human among The Celestials. Not fitting anywhere, but nonetheless giving meaning to everything.
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jeviiarts · 7 months
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The first few aren’t in the right order but you can watch me get used to drawing on Instagram and lose it in real time
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aka-indulgence · 7 months
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Illithid Kiss
So I caved. Immediately. Mind flayers are hot, bite me
Thanks to @llamagoddessofficial for showing me 1 (one) image of bg3 mind flayer and immediately going AWOOGA
Yes I made an ao3 link, I ‘ve been taken over help
(Mind flayer x Female!Reader
Mind flayer goes by he/him)
Vaussur took you in as his thrall for what feels like a long time ago. Despite being a mind flayer, for his kind, he had surprise you at every turn, acting unlike how you expected an illithid to act- like how the rest of the mind flayers in his hive acts. Lenient and forgiving with you, letting you roam with your mind free (for the most part), you find yourself unexpectedly getting attached to him.
What do you do, when all of a sudden your mind flayer ‘master’ asks you to tell him about human love? When he asks you to show him more directly? And most importantly…
Would you kiss a mind flayer?
Content warning: Mind control involved (consensual), suggestive themes, master/servant romantic relationship
—————
“Tell me, pet. What does it mean to love like a human?”
You’re snapped out of your musings at the voice, echoing both through the room and chambers in your mind. You look away from the window, from the alien society outside. Vaussur was looming behind you, a curious glow in his eyes that looked soft, somehow.
In the shadows of the room he looked ominous, almost spine-chilling. Illithid armour glinting in the faint light, while the rest of his body was merely a silhouette save for his glowing, golden irises. It reminded you of stories people back home used to tell you when you were young: to close and lock the doors at night and close the windows lest a monster sneak into the room. You didn’t know what a mind flayer was, back then, but seeing him now, he fits the stories perfectly.
Yet, he keeps surprising you with his curious mannerisms- his strange questions. You turn to face your ‘master’.
“Why do you ask?”
“As you might guess, it’s not something I can speak of amongst other illithids,” he says matter-of-factly, with a bit of humor in his eyes. “But its still something I’m personally interested in, nonetheless.”
You giggle. “What do you mean? Do you study humans?”
Mind flayers don’t have mouths. But from the way his tentacles moved, it almost looks like Vaussur was smiling at the sound of your giggle. But he answers seriously.
“I have been, as of late.” He gives you a meaningful glance. “Of course, illithids are the superior race and our ways of living are equally superior. … But I find myself becoming curious. We don’t have such customs in our society, and what I’m about to say is unbecoming for a mind flayer, but…”
You look at him curiously as he struggles to speak his words.
“I… envy you.” He whispers. “You have no idea how exquisite your mind tastes, my dear thrall. … How tender, the sweetness in every drop of thought in that delectable mind of yours, the warmth and comfort your memories radiate… You come from a world where a small, innocent, kind thing like yourself could flourish and bloom- thrive, even. How can such a world exist?”
The way he describes your mind in frightening and alien detail, reminds you of what he is- an illithid, a being that literally has a taste for brains. But even so, the way he described yours, though a little unsettling, almost sounds like a poem, words woven carefully just for you. Try as you might, it sounds like a compliment to you.
“W-well,” you stutter, staggered by his flowery words- coming from a being that has never seen much of life in the sun. “I think humans are more social than mind flayers. You communicate out of necessity, working together like a hivemind for the elder brain… right?”
“Right. You remembered what I told you? Smart pet, you prove me again and again why you’re my favorite thrall.”
“Um!” Being called a thrall wasn’t flattering, but still you feel your mind spin from the praise. “Thank- thank you. As I was saying, humans communicate and cooperate too, but we don’t do it just out of necessity. We find joy in the comfort of other humans- and other beings too, if they’ve formed a bond. We do it because we like it. We make bonds with people in our families and our communities, for companionship and… sometimes more. We can work alone, but most suffer from being solitary.”
You don’t know what kind of love Vaussur was asking you for, but you thought keeping it general was a good start at least. And the safest option, considering the other possibility.
“Interesting… not unlike illithids.” He comments.
“Really? How so?”
“As a non mind-flayer, you would not know this, but… it’s very unhealthy for a mind flayer to be completely alone.” You raise your eyebrows in surprise while Vaussur continues. “No elder brain, no other illithids, no thralls. Mind flayers are surrounded and connected by thoughts. To strip the familiar away from them… I’ve heard stories where they’ve gone mad.”
“Wait- mind flayers can go mad?”
“Of course. We are superior but not perfect- even I can admit that. Mind flayers can’t thrive in isolation, we must rely on another living being. It’s a disgrace for a mind flayer to accept it, let alone admit it- especially to admit they rely on thralls so heavily beyond labor.”
“I didn’t know that.” You remarked, seeing the illithids in a new light. Most of what you’ve heard from when mind flayers were merely myths and legends, and from what you’ve seen directly from their society indicates that they’re a self-sufficient, self-aggrandizing people. To know they could be attached to anything other than themselves, or at least to their elder brain… and Vaussur had so easily conceded this information to you.
“Wait, if it was a disgrace, why are you admitting this to me right now?”
“Because I’m no different. And it is no disgrace to say that I need you to stay with me.”
Your mouth hangs open at his honest confession, like it was factual. You try to ignore the little flips your stomach is doing, and whether or not it was a good feeling.
“I’ve also heard that there are different types of love. Platonic and romantic, I think they’re called.”
“Yes, yes there is, it’s-” you stop yourself, even as you quieten the excitement in your chest at the mention of the other type of love (to your puzzlement). “How do you know about that?”
“During my time on a ​​reconnaissance mission. I was looking for possibles hosts to implant with tadpole.”
You fail to hide the distaste on your face at the mention of ceremorphosis. If Vaussur saw it, he doesn’t react.
“I heard them talking about it. I think they were discussing whether what they felt for each other was one form or the other. Their discussion about the romantic one became particularly charged.”
He refocuses on you, and eagerly asks, “What is… romantic love?”
He was trying to sound calm and analytical but you could hear it: excitement. But why would a mind flayer be so interested in romance, of all things?
“It’s… like I said earlier,” you swallowed. You don’t know why you felt so bashful about it, like you were in a group of children talking about your parents kissing like it was a scandal. “It’s when people have more… intimate relationships with another. It’s not very different from platonic love, but different nonetheless. It’s…”
How do you explain romantic love to someone who doesn’t know what it is? How is it different from platonic love? Just having to explain what love is to him proved itself quite confusing to you, as the more you tried to grasp the definition of love to you, the more it slipped away.
“It’s like…” you grasp again, “romantic love is when you meet another person, and you feel a, a… a spark. It’s more intense than platonic love, where you just feel this… attraction to the other person, where you want to be as close to them as possible, and just their presence can make you really happy. You do things with them things you wouldn’t do with any other people you have in your life, intimate things. Someone you want to share your life with.”
You feel a little helpless as you clasp your hands together, trying to convey what you think love looks like to someone who’s never experienced it. Even with your loose explanation, Vaussur is rapt with fascination, his luminous glare unblinking. 
“I’m sorry if this is confusing to you…”
He shakes his head. “That’s more knowledge than any mind flayer knows. And… if it proves hard for you, pet, maybe you should show it to me.”
“I… show it?”
You were about to ask how, but as soon as you thought that, a word echoes in your mind.
With a kiss.
Your eyes widen, and unfortunately, it looks like your mind was loud enough for Vaussur to notice.
Without skipping a beat, he asks you, “Can you… show that to me? Kissing?”
Added with his forwardness, you fluster, but you try to calm yourself. Vaussur is a mind flayer. He’s never experienced any kind of love, let alone romantic. He really is just curious, he’s not trying to charm you… right?
You try to explain it to him.
“I c-could, but… kissing you would be more… romantic. One of the intimate things people do together to be romantic.” You said that twice. Your mind is tripping over itself. “You have to- no, you should do it with someone you care about deeply, the one you want to keep in your life. At least, that’s how you make it more meaningful.”
Vaussur doesn’t speak, not immediately. A strange look washes over his face, his brows furrowing. Subconsciously, he brings his hand to a tentacle, stroking it thoughtfully.
“I don’t see the problem. That describes how I feel about you perfectly.”
Everything goes quiet for you.
… “What?”
Vaussur doesn’t skip a beat.
“That’s how I’ve felt about you since I took you as my thrall. That is not a strange concept. I’m intimately familiar with that feeling.” He pauses. “Unless this is hesitation because I’m a mind flayer.”
“I- no that’s not it,” you say, the ice freezing your tongue melting. “It’s, I just- do you… love… me?”
“Perhaps. If that really what love is, then yes. But illithids don’t have ‘romance’ or ‘love’. So I need you to show me what it is.”
You shake your head, you can’t believe the situation you’re in, looking at the floor. The mind flayer that’s called you his thrall might very well love you- even be in love for you. People have described mind flayers as soulless, one of the defining characteristics they were often associated with, something you’d accepted as fact, until you were captured by one. Despite his illithid tendencies, the air of superiority, lack of care for non illithid lives, and strange fascination with brains; for what he is, Vaussur’s acted with more humanity than what you imagined a mind flayer was capable of.
You’ve noticed that most of your favorite qualities in him come out when you have his attention.
Though he’s always been imposing and quite frightening, you can’t believe that you’ve… thought what it’d be like to kiss him. At times when he seems to go against his natural instincts, like keeping you away from the feedings, how he praises you when he defends you from other mind flayers, how you were precious to him, and the way he held you protectively whenever you needed to cross their domain.
You’re amazed at yourself when you answer him with “... Alright.”
When you pick your head up from your musings, you startle from how close he was to you. You could see the patterns in his illithid armor, the intricate swirls and spirals, turning to complicated geometries as they reach the edge of the armor, extending from what looks like a mind flayer skull in the middle of the collar area. Long, dark purple robes extend from underneath, covering most of Vaussur’s skin. You withhold the urge to trace your fingers over the shapes.
You look up, way up. You were no stranger to this- even among mind flayers, Vaussur was particularly tall. He loomed over you, your head only reaching somewhere in the middle of his chest, and you’d have to crane your neck whenever he commanded you. But now, with the prospect of… kissing him, he seems all the more imposing. The closes thing you could to kissing him properly would probably be on one of tentacle.
“Um…”
Vaussur makes a strange sound, a sound that tickles your brain. A laugh…?
Before you could worry about what you were about to do, you feel a magic presence all around you, like someone was holding you. Your feet lift off the floor as you’re picked up by his psionic energy, bringing you face to face with him. There’s expectance in his burning gaze, something that makes you feel small and defenseless. You feel his thoughts seeping into your mind, mixing with yours: the want to be closer, of warm affection… and something possessive. You’re not sure if he’s trying to make you feel the same things for him, or if he’s simply communicating with you the way a mind flayer would with each other. It scares you a little, especially feeling his more foreign emotions- but whatever it is, you know he’s being genuine. You don’t sense a hint of malice in all the rush of feelings he’s emanating.
Despite your timidity, you can’t say those feelings were wholly unpleasant. You find you’re actually leaning into it, closing your eyes to try to feel it coursing through you. When you open them, you find the courage to brace your hands on his plated shoulders. Brilliant citrine eyes glance down at them, and you realize how small they must look to him.
Your brows furrow a little as you look for a good place to… kiss an illithid. Your fingers curl, and you try to position your head a bit to the side. You could feel him watching your every move, and you swallow.
You lean in. You could smell him, somewhat like vanilla and something else, and you’re surprised that you like it. Your lips press to the side of his face, above two of his tentacles, and kiss him. Vaussur closes his eyes and hums- you could feel him physically and mentally relax. His skin was strange, smooth and slick with a thin film of something; but you didn’t dislike it.
You pull back, parting with a little cup! as you did. Vaussur looks a little more… floaty, like he was dreaming.
“... Can you do that again?” He murmurs
You purse your lips together, hands letting go to twiddle your fingers, not quite knowing where to look.
Apparently Vaussur takes your hesitation negatively.
“I feel your nervousness, puppet. What’s the matter? … Did you not like it?”
You didn’t know mind flayers could even sound hurt, but he did, though he tried to hide it from you.
“No, no!” you stressed, “I’m just! It’s! … I’m just… shy.”
His eyes widen. You know what he must be reading from your mind right now: curiosity, interest, maybe even… fondness.
When you look at his mouth you feel a mix of emotions. Were you afraid? Were you excited…?  … No you don’t want ot think of what that meant, it’s too much. You stare for his mouth a moment longer while you try to gain the courage to kiss him.
You decided to work up to it.
Your hand reaches for a tentacle tentatively.
“Can I…? Touch your..?”
The tentacle flexes. Vaussur seems clueless as to what you want to do with it, but he lets you have it.
You give it a feather light touch, tracing a finger down its length. You realize how… sensual this feels, and you wonder if mind flayers ever enjoyed the pleasures of the body…? If they could? Vaussus gasps quietly, the tentacle reacting to your touch, twitching closer to you.
You’ve found yourself imagining what it was like to stroke his tentacles, of what would happen. Vaussur closes his eyes, letting you run your hand down. It’s smooth and slick with illithid mucous, cool to the touch, almost slippery. You think you like it. The other tentacles start to curl and sway closer around you, as if looking for your attention. You feel a sudden sense of pride fill you, at the effect you had on this mind flayer, just by touching him lightly.
His tentacles start their own exploration of you; timidly at first, but they quickly gain confidence and start to lavish you with tender caresses. One prods and brushes your cheek. Another traces along your collarbone curiously. The third free tentacle slides behind your back and holds you steady. The one you’re holding- clearly enjoying what you’re doing to it, curls around your arm.
You tittered. It’s like they had minds of their own. You wondered… what would happen if you kissed him on the tentacle?
You lift it up to you and give it a gentle peck.
Apparently, they were sensitive because as soon as you did, claws closed around your back and hips and pulled you flush against Vaussur’s chest, squeaking as he did. He lets out a deep, pleasurable sigh that turns your cheeks red while he grips you tightly, wantingly. You’d always assumed that a mind flayer’s body would feel cold, but even though his skin was covered in fluid, he was warm. Very warm.
So were you.
His golden eyes were glowing brighter than ever, his tentacles caressing you and start to float and curl languidly around you. His mouth is open before you, and your breath mixes with his.
You don’t feel fear.
“Please, my human,” he implores, “teach me. Teach me how you love.”
You didn’t hesitate this time. You felt naturally drawn to him. Willingly, you lean into him, his body, his feelings. You wrap your arms around his neck and somehow, your lips found his mouth and you started to kiss him.
As you expected, kissing Vaussur was nothing like the kisses you’ve experienced with other humans, or even other humanoids. You aren’t sure how to describe it, it felt you were kissing all around you rather than on one single spot, he surrounded you. His tentacles start to wrap you more tightly- around your head and neck. Though the thought of how vulnerable you were in this position with a mind flayer- that he could eat you so easily- did cross your mind, it only did so briefly. You were worried earlier that kissing a mind flayer with their mouths that opened four ways accompanied by lamprey teeth, meant to suction and grind into skulls might feel horrible but… you’re delighted that that wasn’t the case. The sensation of having him surround you and hold you so lovingly tightly was quite pleasant.
He hums, the sound vibrating around you. He starts floating backwards with you, slowly settling into his bed, his hands wandering, feeling you. You could feel him in your mind again, but he wasn’t intruding. It felt more like he was asking for your permission. You happily let him in, and you feel yourself cradled by his thoughts: soft, warm adoration for you.
Despite what the natural order tells you, you felt safe with him.
Vaussur had seemed confused earlier, not knowing what to do with himself while you spoiled him with your kisses, but he’d started becoming more confident, evident from the way he holds you and the tentacles’ affectionate touches. He starts taking control, sitting up a little and folding you backwards, reciprocating your kiss with new fervor, deepening it. His claws start to dig into you possessively, and you squeak, his power overwhelming you.
A flood of satisfaction floods your brain, and it isn’t yours.
I like those sounds. Vaussur’s voice purrs in your mind. Give me more.
You gasp and mewl, squirming in his hold, which only excites the illithid more, tentacles winding around your head tighter. One hand manages to stray from the tangle of limbs, only to quickly get reclaimed by his slender fingers, entwining with yours.
Don’t be scared, sweet human. He teases diabolically, I promise I won’t eat that delicious mind of yours. You’re safe with me.
You don’t know how long he kept you like that, hungrily taking your mouth while his hands and tentacles wander. When he was finally sated, Vaussur gently pries his tendrils off your face, and lets you go. You take a gasp of air, the blood in your head slowly draining away, and you cool down. You could feel warm imprints on your face where his tentacles and mouth were. Already, you find yourself missing the closeness you shared, his warm mouth on yours.
It felt like he was sucking your face in the best ways.
… You feel scandalized by your own thoughts, and you cover your mouth bashfully.
“I felt that.”
Damn it!
Vaussur chuckles, his eyes flickering with smugness. His gaze wanders over your face, like he was admiring his ‘work’.
He looks happy, eyes crinkling at you.
“Just like I promised. Your mind is still yours, untouched, undigested. Though… there are marks on your face. I rather like it.”
You don’t know how red your face is right now, fingers scrambling on it as if you could see it better that way.
“W-what?”
He chuckles again, and your frantic thoughts stop when a finger brushes your cheek.
“Thank you. For showing me that, puppet.”
Slowly, you smile, small and demure. “Your… welcome. Thank you for keeping my mind safe. I…” you swallowed, laughing nervously, “I liked it.”
Oh. Oh, he liked that.
“I did too. Immensely. You’re… incredible.” He praises you. “I would not be opposed to it if we did it again.”
You’re suddenly intimately aware of the fact that you were on his lap, practically straddling him, his arms keeping you close. He’s just invited you to another kiss, and you… like that idea. Sheepishly, you say the same.
“I… I wouldn’t either.”
You’re hoping you’ll get to kiss him again soon. Maybe more.
He lays you down beside him, and as he presses the top of his tentacles to your head, you realize it was his attempt at giving you a peck. You smile, and you instinctively curl into him, tentacles floating around you protectively.
Rest, human. He urges. You’ve done a lot today. Sleep.
You let him mentally compel you. It was nice, being able to sleep whenever you wanted without having to toss and turn before hand. You feel sleep quickly take you and your eyes fall close.
Vaussur stays up a bit longer after you, admiring his pretty ‘thrall’ that he feels lucky to have found. His fingers comb through your hair and behind your ear.
You’re… extraordinary.
You smile in your sleep as response. He thinks that might be the prettiest thing he’s seen in his illithid life: you being happy while you were with him.
He doesn’t think these soft, tender feelings are natural for a mind flayer. He wonders if he inhabits a human body.
You curl a little, trying to escape the chill, and Vaussur pulls a blanket up to you, and covers you. He needs to rest soon too, to shed his armor and sink into bed with you by his side.
His small… cute… vulnerable little human.
Whatever he may be in his previous life before the ceremorphosis, one thing is clear to him now.
He loves you.
And no one else can have you.
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ruvviks · 5 months
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Mikhail and Vitali were inseparable; when they weren’t studying or getting into fights, they would hang out at Mikhail’s place to smoke and get drunk on cheap rum and vodka, to then pass out in each other’s arms and sleep most of the next day away. They promised each other— no matter what would happen— they would never leave each other’s side. Yet after starting university and college respectively, they did not see each other for a little over six years, leaving them both heartbroken and wondering what went wrong.
by lucas expedidor // catch me if you can; eden // clementine von radics, from 'courtney love prays to oregon' // sam sax, cruising: a broken tiara // 'ceramic home' by heavensghost; quote from john murillo // 'something's changed' by laiikastears // i don't want to watch the world end with someone else; clinton kane // fortesa latifi, from 'the truth about grief' // audre lorde, the evening news // frank o'hara, biotherm (for bill berkson) // heading home; ruben // 'preface to a dream' by alessandra casini // tokyo; caroline kole // langston hughes, poem // haruki murakami, norwegian wood // julie buntin, marlena // by lute // by aleksandr popov // anyway; noah kahan // christa wolf, cassandra: a novel and four essays
#cp2077#edit:mikhail#edit:vitali#nuclearocs#nuclearedits#happy birthday to my two boys :^) yes they share the same birthday what about it. it's essential to their whole. thing#whatever it is. they're like soulmates but also they are NOT dating. i need you to understand that. because it makes everything funnier#you guys remember when i first introduced them here and people thought they were together. good times honestly#but yeah no vitali is officially dating vincent and mikhail is just their eternal third wheel. their relationship can't be defined#they also reunite of course but i LOVE emphasizing their grief. they didn't know they'd ever see each other again#and they've known each other since around age 12. imagine spending almost every day with someone who CHOSE you#and then suddenly not seeing them or talking to them for YEARS. what do you do with that grief. that pain#sure they've found each other back but what do you do with that. where do you put it. it makes me insane!!!#they both were so lonely in their own way. vitali getting lost in vices and crowds but ending up all by himself at the end of the day#and mikhail drowning himself in studying and pushing himself far over his limits just to distract himself from the hole in his chest#night city in my head is much more massive than what it feels like in game. like yeah it feels big but not. BIG big#and i think mikhail and vitali's story and them losing contact while only a district apart really emphasizes how like#how HUGE this city is not only in terms of actual land it covers but also just. how overwhelming it is. how it can swallow you whole#anyway if you've read all of this hi. wanna make out
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killemwithkawaii · 3 months
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Alright, the kewk classic 'face hole' design it is~ 📊✅
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"Ain't he a doll?" 💋💦💕
And now while I fuck with this anatomy sketch 5ever, we gotta decide on a background! I'm thinking Sal would prefer to do his love-sick swooning in the privacy of his bedroom, but where, exactly? 🤔
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'The bed'-
Perks: seems more routine, sowft snuggly nest to daydream and swoon in, [darling] collage on the wall, '... okay, what have you been doing with that pillow...?'
Drawbacks: Limited space, have to take stability/sinking into account with props, perspective is Hard and I will make that headboard look good or die trying
'The floor'-
Perks: seems more impulsive, more yan/NEET clutter potential (more room to spread out), a glimpse under his bed (and at all the [darling] stuff he's got shoved under there)
Drawbacks: That carpet is UGLY, I will probably (definitely) bite off more than I can chew trying to fill all that space with props, it hurts my Everything just thinking about lying on the floor like that for too long
'Secret third thing'-
....???? idk you tell me lol
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mishy-mashy · 15 hours
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THE CONTRAST OF THE ONLY TIMES WE EVER SEE BRUCE SMILING????
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lemongogo · 5 months
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can i ask.how u guys practice ur creativity <3 how u practice ur imagination or like.. how u experiment with ur art, how u come to ideas and how u develop them.<3 pretty please <3
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#smthing i have always struggled w.is feeling like i can only draw things that r handed 2 me.#as in.an idea or concept that already exists#chara or conflict that already exists.Scene that alr exists.#and i think it can be soo limiting bc when i have that sort of creative desire but nothing 2 reflect off of it#i feel like im unable to do anything/get anywhere bc im unable to do that mental legwork myself ykwim#like comic artists r SOOO JAW DROP INSPIRING TO MEE bc not only are u envisioning ur own sequences/situations#but u are able to imagine even the most MUNDANE interactions within those scenarios u know#like the transitory panels and the quiet moments and the every day stillness#and i feel like.its not even a poor attempt on my behalf its like.i cant Even attempt it.like my brain is soo empty#and soo static and noiseless that i am like gauhh......#i can practice lines all day long and practice colors and practice anatomy or Whatever bc its something concrete#and its in front of me and i can pry apart the physical technicalities until i understand it better#but my MIND???ABSTRACTION>? THOUGHTS .ough its so hard#and i really want to push past that but i dont know how and its so .. demoralizing to think that ill get there One Day but i feel#one million and two days away.and not making active process towards it.#i know the first step is to build ur visual library and i feel liek. idk i FEEL LIKEEE theres more 2 it that im missing#but also im depressed as hell n my job is killing my creative drive and the seasonal stuff isnt helping#so maybe i just need 2 give it time (true) but i also like.man i dont know. i want 2 do something w my hands#but everything ive been doing so far has felt soo .hard and fruitless and i definitely dont want 2 turn art into such a stressful thing#fruitless as in like.i dont get any personal satisfaction w it.idgaf abt monetization or algorithms or any of tht#but smtimes thats just what happens and i have 2 weather through and know ill be more equipped 4 this some other time#SAWRYYY IM ALWAYS GOING ON AND ONNN im nromal im normal<3 i just rly like art and it sucks balls whn it feels out of reach#sigh cry fart scroll.(:salute:)
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stacytea · 5 months
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okay, lemme just say: Gil-galad, who hated being the king Gil-galad, who had never wanted to be the king in the first place Gil-galad, who was crowned anyway, because there were hardly any finweans left around and the noldor in Beleriand needed a king, just so they can hold onto something, have some semblances of normality in the apocalyptic post-nirnaeth time Gil-galad, who became the high king when he was only 13/14 if we convert to human years, who was barely able to hold back tears in front of crowds as the crown was being placed upon his head Gil-galad, who had been raised by Círdan on Balar, among Teleri, and now he was the number 1 person in a culture that he didn't even feel like was truly his. A culture that so far he had only been taught about, had never participated in. Gil-galad, who politically hardly ever got to make his own decisions, whose role as the king was mostly limited to signing up whatever the parliament needed to validate and who was ascribed the blame whenever an idea backfired Gil-galad, who always wished he could've just lived a simple life on Balar, alongside Teleri, worked on a fishing boat and stuff like that, but instead he was manoeuvred into politics and bureaucracy, and an office that everyone at this point already knew was cursed, overall an enormous amount of responsibility, when he was basically still a child Gil-galad who was handling it all quite well until the third kinslaying happened Gil-galad, who was something like 15/16 in human years when the third kinslaying happened, who then had to face the reality of his reign, which was: he held little to no power. He was just a teenager, put on a throne, so the noldorin power in beleriand didn't seem to be crumbling as badly as it actually was. And he definitely wasn't able to protect his people Gil-galad, who was still doing his best after the third kinslaying, but also he started turning completely self-destructive in his free time. Like, there wasn't a single weekend he wouldn't spend at some party, drinking until he blacked out, taking whatever drugs he could get, getting involved in all kinds of reckless/precarious sexual behaviours Gil-galad, who just wanted someone to show up and take over the kingship , but was aware that all hopes for it had been wiped out when the feanorians attacked Sirion. That any hopes were gone along with Eärendil and his little sons. Gil-galad, whose role was mostly representative, so he had to be present at all kinds of events, no excuses. ,,What do you mean you need a day off? You're the king, ffs!!! Get your hangovered ass over there, it's not like you're going to work'' It pretty much resulted in young Gil-galad quite often showing up in public hangovered/ still lightly drunk/drugged/ overall messy af. And aside from the toll it took on his reputation, like- the king who has some serious troubles with substance abuse is probably easy to be influenced on many matters; it's also the fact that he was crowned to raise the morale among noldor, to message: ,,Look, we still have a king, it's not that bad!" How does it impact the Noldor when they repeatedly see their king barely able to stand upright or retching in some darkened corner? Not well, to say the least. Gil-galad, who felt trapped by the kingship. Gil-galad, who knew there was no way out of it for him, other than by suffering a painful death like basically every one of his predecessors Gil-galad who was being self-destructive and he didn't care about getting hurt because ,,hey, I have no control over my own life anyways :)))'' but also Gil-galad, who grew out of his teenage years and in his early adulthood had some ,,I can't keep living like this" moments , especially after waking up somewhere on the cold ground, feeling like shit and covered in vomit and all other kinds of fluids either his own or someone else's or both
Gil-galad who was in his early twenties (again, converted to human years) and decided to get his life together, because if he's trapped anyway, he can as well try to make it a little less horrible for himself
Gil-galad, who had maybe never got quite the amount of support he needed from Círdan, but Círdan had definitely taught him a lot and enough for him to be able to get by in life and politics
Gil-galad, who started getting his life together in his early twenties, and even if he stayed dangerously close to alcohol/drugs addiction and kept his inclination for partying for the rest of his life, he was actually doing fine
Also sometime after the War of Wrath began, it turned out that Eärendil's sons had made it out alive after all, and maybe it wasn't fixing all Ereinion's problems, but it sure was SOMETHING
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swordmaid · 4 months
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we managed to resolve the tiefling-goblin conflict before wyll turns into a devil (we’ve even recruited karlach too) and this is what he says in the party…! interesting I think
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binch-i-might-be · 8 days
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when I was in my late teens I got really heavily into doctor who (I would watch like seven episodes a day after school lol) and Ten was my ABSOLUTE favourite. it was my comfort show in every way. then one night when I was really down I started a new season.... but unbeknownst to me, the site I had been streaming the show on didn't have the last couple episodes of the last season. which meant I skipped straight over Ten regenerating into Eleven. and then when I saw Matt Smith in that tardis I fucking LOST it. I literally said "who the fuck is that" out loud and started sobbing uncontrollably. they just took him (David Tennant) from me..... and for what
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feluka · 1 month
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COC Coptic Orthodox Church
COC Combined Oral Contraceptive
coptic orthodox contraceptive (today i learned that some married coptic couple abstain from sex during lent. i hope they mean the 55 days of great lent and NOT the 240 days of all total coptic fasting periods became damn!!! i don't even think the church said to do that 😭 why 😭)
combined orthodox church. combined with who? that's for the reader's imagination <3
coptic oral church. uhhh
combined orthodox contraceptive. um.
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arolesbianism · 7 months
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Some concepts for the siblings
#keese draws#rain world#rain world survivor#rain world monk#just impulsive slug cat practice mostly but I also have been wanting to draw them#I wanna try my hand at making fun designs for some of the others so I needed to get my baseline first#I wanna go for more rodent vibes than cat but not too much so#I also wanna draw some of my other slugcat biology hcs but no promises I’ve been going thru it lately#oh yeah and I do imagine most slugcats as completely hairless so no fluffy arti sorry y’all#she does get the closest to having actual teeth of all of them tho so that’s a win for her#well ok all slugcats kind of have teeth but they’re more like small spines that line the front of their mouths#they don’t chew on food tho the teeth are for tearing bits of food off of things#carnivorous slugcats have bigger spines that more so resemble teeth but only in the sense that they’re much larger and easier to see#they also very much hurt more although usefulness in combat is often limited#as getting a good enough grip on a moving target ain’t easy#in fact these big ol teeth are more meant to be used for trapping prey while they like beat them to death or smth#but with larger prey becoming most carnivorous scugs main food source they don’t get used that way as often anymore#in my minds eye way way back slugcats used to be egg predators but as more and more dangerous predators started being common they adapted#a much more omnivorous diet with most of their protein coming from bugs#and hey now they eat bug eggs full circle Babey
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clouds-of-wings · 27 days
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Mandy's father is certainly right in some regards when he says that Mandy and her mother are very similar people - they are both strong-willed women who want things to go their way. But the only reason why her dad sees that as the defining trait of both is that he spends so much time being SitcomDad and avoiding conflict with the women in his life. If you look at it from a different perspective, it's very clear that they are not similar at all. They go about getting their way in very different ways - I have not seen Mandy be anywhere near as manipulative, judgemental and just straight-up backstabbing as her mother. But since the father wants to avoid confrontation above all, that doesn't make a difference. Fair or unfair, reasonable or manipulative, principled or impulsive, all he sees is an angry woman who needs to be placated.
The way her mother treats Mandy has been consistently horrible from the beginning while Mandy has not been similarly horrible to the people in her life - most notably, she has been the only one who has given Missy some respect and has even mentored her when the older women in her own family have only neglected her, especially once she became a teen. Mandy does not pass the emotional abuse she receives on to the only younger woman in her family. Also she has been right to try and put some distance between herself and her mother and is only tolerating this treatment at the moment because she doesn't have any other options, which is a pretty shitty situation to be in. She's handling it as well as can be expected (aka not well), and with almost zero support from the people around her. She certainly can't depend on the spineless and two-faced men in her family, though I have at least some hope that she can establish a better relationship pattern with Georgie. But if she can, it will be almost entirely due to her insistence on it, because while he is willing to live up to his financial obligations to his family and is certainly a hard-working guy who cares for his wife and kid, he likes to go the path of least resistance in arguments just as much as his father-in-law.
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