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stevebabey · 3 months

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it was supposed to be short n small and now its 3k & its unedited and u all have to just deal with it bcos it was supposed to be SMALL | ao3

The driver's side car window makes a resounding thunk when Steve’s forehead falls against it.

Through the glass, his keys glint tauntingly back at him.

Still tucked in the ignition, locked in on the inside. So close and yet so far from Steve who is, unfortunately, locked on the outside.

I’m such a fucking idiot.

He lets his head raise up a bit just to drop it back against the window again, this time more in punishment. Of course, of course, he coughs up the money needed for a warrant of fitness and then he goes and locks his keys in the car the next day. Like he needed one more cost added to his finances.

Steve steals a glance at his watch. Fuck, if he doesn’t get on the road in the next 10 minutes, he’ll be more than late to work.

His eyes glance across to Eddie’s van, parked beside his own car, outside the trailer home in Forest Hills. Then he looks back at the trailer.

He can ask. He can just go inside and ask Eddie for the lift— and explain that the reason he can’t take his own perfectly fine car is because he’s so goddamn thick between the ears that he’s locked his keys inside, like some kind of moron.

The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like his father.

Something thick grows in his throat. He swallows it to no avail. Embarrassment begins to flush down his neck, hot and uncomfortable.

No, no— he can’t ask Eddie because as far as Steve knows, Eddie hasn’t quite figured it out yet.

Even while Dustin and Mike make their jokes about him being a bit slow, even when Robin says at least you have your pretty face, Eddie brushes them off and laughs. Takes them as jokes with no merit to them. Steve knows though.

So what if he doesn’t want to burst his bubble just yet?

He knows Eddie will figure it out eventually— because they always do. When he asks too many stupid questions and needs things explained twice and— and it’s just inevitable, okay? He knows that.

Fixing his glare through the window of his car at the shiny pair of keys within, Steve wrestles with what would be worse; being late or accidentally tipping Eddie off when they’ve just gotten so close.

Close enough to share a kiss, two nights ago, under the covers. It was barely more than a peck. But Steve knew it had taken a miraculous amount of courage from Eddie to do it— to surge forward and grab Steve’s face, his rings cool against his skin, and press his mouth against his Steve's own.

Eddie’s lips had been chapped but his smile had been pure sunshine and Steve thinks he could’ve stayed forever under that blanket, memorising the shade of pink Eddie’s cheeks turn after a kiss.

They’ve been dancing around it ever since. Each interaction is more charged, more flirty, more gooey. Long lingering looks and pointed nudges that make Steve feel like a 14-year-old with a crush again, in the best way.

So, no. He exactly can’t go ask.

With a heavy sigh and glance up at the darkening sky, Steve is only glad he’s not supposed to pick up Robin today as he begins to walk.

—

One phone call to the auto-shop reveals exactly how much it’ll cost to get his keys retrieved. Which is, to say, entirely too much for one adult living on the wage of a Family Video employee.

And they won’t be able to get anyone out for another whole day.

Growing more and more frustrated with himself, Steve angrily jots the number down into his little notebook, the pen pressing down hard enough to leave indents on the page behind it. Keith is somewhere out the back, snacking no doubt, and leaving Steve to man the front.

Normally, it wouldn’t bother him— especially because he could discretely make the phone call he needed— but now it’s just him, the empty store, and the number in his notebook that stares back at him.

Oh, and it’s raining.

The darkening sky from earlier had transformed into something closer to a thunderstorm, rain lashing against the windows and driving any and all customers away. Which is fantastic— just what Steve needs now, really the fucking cherry on the top.

The phone rings, the noise unusually shrill in the silence of the store. The film playing amongst the aisles has been on mute as soon as he’d gotten his hands on the remote and Keith had disappeared out the back.

Steve stares at the phone, watching it ring once, twice, before he picks it up with a heavy sigh. He dredges up his customer service voice.

“This is Family Video, how can I help?” He greets, putting as much pep into his voice as he can manage—which turns out to be a meagre amount.

“Did you walk to work today?”

Steve straightens up at the sound of Eddie’s voice on the other end of the line. His free hand instinctively smooths down the front of his vest before he quickly remembers Eddie can’t actually see him.

“Eddie?” He asks, instead of answering the question.

“Your Highness, himself,” Eddie responds. His tone is that usual jaunty playfulness that Steve’s come to adore. “Now answer the question, Steve-o. I thought you were one of those smart guys who actually listens when the weather report comes on the radio. Why the hell did you walk?”

Steve’s shoulders curl in, just an inch, and his eyes seek out the open notebook with the quoted amount, underlined and circled, staring back at him. His throat grows a lump at Eddie’s unknowingly poor choice of words.

“Thought I would walk today.” He replies, his voice clipped. “You know, walking, exercise, good for you? Any of these ringing a bell for you, Munson?”

It’s supposed to be a joke but Steve can tell by the end of the sentence, it’s come out way too sour to land that way. He sounds mean.

Steve cringes, clutching the phone a little tighter and screwing up his eyes. He waits for Eddie’s response.

“You know,” Eddie says, sounding a lot duller all of a sudden. “I was calling to maybe offer you a lift through the rain—”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, that-“ Steve cuts in, that same strange embarrassment swelling in his throat. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“—But if you’re gonna be a dick about it, you can enjoy the walk.”

Steve grits his teeth and pinches the bridge of his nose because this feels a little too much like a line from his Dad— but it isn’t because Steve is the one digging this hole all on his own. He’s the idiot who fucking locked his keys in his car and walked to work and snapped at Eddie and—

“No, I’m sorry.” He says, still a bit too tense.

Idiot, idiot, you’re being a fucking idiot, Harrington.

“A ride would be appreciated. Please.”

A pause. This time when Eddie speaks, he’s a little softer. “You off at five today?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at five.”

The dial tone sounds as Eddie hangs up but Steve stays where he is, phone pressed against his one good ear, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. The rain begins to flood the parking lot.

—

Five o’clock comes around too soon.

The rain has let up, just barely, but enough that Steve can actually see Eddie’s van when it pulls up into the parking lot. It rocks about dangerously in the wind and Steve suddenly feels bad for making Eddie come out to get him.

He could’ve stayed here, taken the longer shift. Told Keith to take off early and just walked back home when the rain let up a little more— or just camped out the back on the couch in the employee room if it never did.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

He’d started doing it more and more when his parent’s visits to home became more frequent. It was easy to pull a few white lies out and Steve far preferred answering questions like: Where were you last night? than Why won't you come out to our event tonight? Show face for the Harrington's? It's not like you're doing anything with your life, right?

The only reason he’d stopped, actually, was because he had become good friends with Eddie.

Eddie, who loved his company almost any hour of the day. Who gobbled up each and every morsel of food Steve cooked up, whether it was good or partially burned on the sides. Who told him he had a place in the trailer, day or night, rain or shine.

Eddie who… was waiting outside at five o’clock exactly, pulled up to the curb so Steve wouldn’t have to walk through the rain for more than a moment.

There’s a sliver of surprise, deep within his chest; like he thought Eddie might’ve not shown up and forced him to walk through the rain, just to learn his lesson. It would make sense, Steve thinks. You reap what you sow.

He clocks out hastily, barely murmuring his exit to Keith who doesn’t look up in the slightest. Steve heads for the door and decides then and there, he’ll happily pay the number in his notebook if he doesn’t have to tell Eddie what a fucking moron he actually is.

Water splashes as he dashes down the steps and Eddie’s leaning across, pushing the door open so Steve doesn’t even have to wait to yank it open in the rain. He slides in, sprinkled with rain, slams the door closed, and instantly gets blasted with heat.

“God, you’re a lifesaver,” Steve sighs, sticking his hands out towards the air vents which are working in overdrive. They whir loudly in complaint. Eddie smiles, the apples of his cheeks glowing in the warmth, and twists the wheel, his eyes on the road before him.

The van groans and the bumper dips, kissing the gutter, as they roll out onto the road and head for Forest Hills. For a moment, Eddie focuses on driving straight before he flicks his gaze across to Steve.

“You know I wouldn’t have actually let you walk, right?”

Steve blinks, unsure of what to say in response, because he actually did think that was a possibility until about 2 minutes ago. He shivers as a stray drop in his hair sneaks under his collar, cold and wet.

“Right.” He answers, giving a hesitant smile back.

They’re driving slower than usual due to the rain. Steve lets himself sink back into the worn seats of the van, comforted by the familiar smells. A tang of tobacco, a stronger hint of weed, and that musky deodorant that Eddie swears by— even if Steve has never heard of the brand before.

But, well, it must be working in some sense because when Steve takes a deep breath, he smells it and feels a sense of calm. He doesn’t even notice he’s begun staring.

The strange weather has made Eddie’s hair frizzier than usual and paired with his rosy cheeks, Steve thinks he looks goddamn delectable. He gets caught up in a daydream about having a hot chocolate when they get back to the trailer, maybe even sharing a blanket on the couch and—

And then, Eddie turns and says, “So, wanna tell me why you walked? For real, this time?”

Something shrivels up within Steve. The tightness in his throat from this morning returns. He turns his head and looks out the window.

“I don’t get why you don’t believe me when I say I walked because I wanted to.” He grumbles, almost too low for Eddie to hear over the rain.

Why are they still talking about this? He thinks of the keys through the driver’s side window, thinks of the number in his notebook and the much smaller one in his bank account, and has to hold back from thumping his head against the glass again.

Something metallic jingles behind him.

Steve whips around, his eyes zeroing in on his keys dangling from Eddie’s hand— clearly just retrieved from his pocket. Something ugly and warm wakes up inside him, his stomach knotting uncomfortably, and his cheeks start to burn in embarrassment.

Idiot, Idiot, Idiot.

He knows, he already fucking knows how stupid you are.

Eddie’s eyes dart off the road to look at Steve. “Cos you’re clearly not telling the truth.”

Steve averts his gaze, turning his face back to the window and the wet pavement rushing by beneath the car. He swallows but the lump in his throat doesn’t move.

“Okay, look I don’t actually care that you walked to work,” Eddie continues, placing the keys down in the cup holder between the seats. “I just don’t get why you wouldn’t tell me that they were locked in your car.”

Steve can’t help it, the way his shoulders hike up. His teeth sink into his bottom lip meanly, nearly drawing blood. He doesn’t get it, he doesn’t get it— Eddie’s still trying to rationalise away what everyone else has already figured out.

“I just—” Steve starts, on the defence, but it comes out a bit too wet. He forces himself to swallow again, thankful there’s no sting of tears in his eyes. “I can fix that shit on my own. That’s all.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie agrees.

Below them both, the hum of the van begins to dwindle and Steve realises abruptly that Eddie’s slowing down, pulling over to the side of the road. He looks to the side, at Eddie.

“Please, c’mon, I just wanna go home, man.” Steve pleads, not even caring that he’s referred so casually to Eddie’s trailer as his home.

“Wait, just,” Eddie waves a hand as he sticks the van into park, releasing the wheel and properly turning to Steve.

“I just want to understand. You know I can pop the door to most cars in, like, 5 minutes. Why didn’t you just ask?”

“Eddie,” Steve stresses, turning away with a pointed sigh. He runs a hand through his hair, latching onto the roots and tugging at it. “Just leave it, please.”

“Or asked for a lift!” Eddie continues, his hands gesturing out a bit wildly. “I could’ve given you a lift even.”

Steve's eyes slice across the van and he wills back every emotional outburst that wants to lash out of him, to poke the right spot that will hurt to get Eddie to back off.

But Eddie is just staring at him, brown eyes wide, a little furrow between his brows, and is just confused. Concerned.

“If you keep driving,” Steve murmurs, almost dejectedly. He ducks his head low and turns back to the window. “I’ll tell you.”

It works— the engine rumbles back to life and the wheels roll gently back out onto the road, just a couple more minutes from Forest Hills. Steve watches the road and tries to grasp for the right thing to say, each possibility dissolving like smoke. His eyes squeeze shut tightly. The rain dins loudly on the roof of the van, a song and dance of the elements.

By the time they’re entering Forest Hills, Steve still hasn’t said a word. The van crawls up into its usual spot, next to Steve’s own car, and Steve stares down at it. He can hear the soft click of Eddie’s seatbelt as he releases it.

He supposes it’s too late now, anyway. Eddie already knows. He keeps his eyes out the window as he speaks, his voice flat and dull.

“I just... I didn’t want you to think that I’m an idiot, too.”

There’s a questioning noise behind him, a little noise from Eddie’s throat that slips out, unbidden.

“Too?” He echoes. “Steve? Who thinks you’re an idiot?”

Steve huffs loudly and turns back, throwing his hands up. “Jesus, who doesn’t? Would you like a list?”

Eddie’s face twists into a meaner expression than Steve's ever seen before and for once, he properly matches the dark clothes and spooky tattoos he dons.

“Yes. And I’ll go door to door— wait,” He shuffles, shifting up onto his knees so he can stretch over the console and place his large hands on either side of Steve’s face, directing his gaze towards him.

It’s reminiscent of a kiss not too long ago. Despite all the burning self-deprecation that churns inside, the pleasant reminder dulls it significantly.

“I’ll go door to door to anyone who ever made you feel that way,” Eddie repeats, now face to face with Steve, their noses nearly touching. His brows are still pull tight into a furious frown. But it's not at him, Steve realises. “And I’ll do something— I’m not sure what yet, but it’ll be foul and like, maybe I’ll put instant mash potatoes on their lawn and— okay the specifics aren’t relevant but this— this is.”

He searches Steve’s face intently, eyes darting around, making sure the message is sinking in. His expression softens out, his eyes suddenly sweeter than before. “You’re aren’t an idiot, Steve. You aren’t an idiot for making a mistake and I’ve never thought that about you.”

Steve blinks. Swallows heavily and god fucking dammit, is the thickness in his throat ever going to disappear? This time it feels different though. He’s not sure how.

“You don’t think I’m an idiot, do you?” Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head, moving Eddie’s hands with them at the same time. It’s true, he doesn’t. Eddie is… goddamn fucking wonderful. He’s like a warm summer shower through the wretched seasons of Steve’s life. One of the reasons it was worth living through the entire ordeal of 86.

The rain outside continues, pitter-pattering on the roof, somehow softer than it was a second ago.

“Okay,” Eddie says, a small smile on tugging on his lips.

“Okay,” Steve says back. He tries for a smile and it’s easier than expected, though it wobbles at the ends. It doesn’t matter— Eddie is still gazing at him, brown eyes shining and Steve believes what he says.

“Okay,” Eddie says one more time, his smile turning closer to a grin. “Let’s go make some cocoa, yeah?”

He moves to retract his hands but Steve moves faster, his hands darting up to hold them in their place, palms against his cheeks.

“Wait,” Steve murmurs, watching how Eddie stills and keeps his closeness, their noses still a couple inches from touching— and Steve clings to the threads of courage in him tightly.

His hands slide off Eddie’s, grasping lightly at his wrists, and it’s easy to lean forward and connect their mouths in one swift motion.

Eddie squeaks— then melts.

It takes half a second before he remembers to kiss back, equally as enthusiastic and it’s nothing like the first kiss they shared under the covers. The rain dances around them and Steve swipes his thumbs over Eddie’s pulse soothing, feeling the barest jump of his rabbiting pulse.

When he shifts back, breaking the kiss, Steve keeps the closeness, the tips of their noses bumping together. Eddie’s hands feel blazing warm on Steve’s cheeks but when his lashes flutter open, catching sight of Eddie’s glorious pink cheeks, he thinks it might be his face burning up too.

They tumble inside through the rain and with all of Steve’s prayers answered today, they also share a blanket on the couch, ankles linked beneath the rumpled fabric. They make hot chocolate, Steve’s style, and sip it at, making googly eyes at each other over the rim of their mugs— until Eddie laughs too much and spits it down his front.

Steve doesn’t feel stupid again— unless that is, you count feeling stupidly sappy.

(He does not.)

#get it OUTTA MY SIGHT #god this ate up too many hours for the final product #resisting the urge to boo my own work #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #hurt/comfort #technically it is tehe #steddie hurt/comfort #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington hurt/comfort #uhhhhhh that's all folks.#i just need a boost im having a week and its friggin. monday #okie byeeeeee

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 10 months

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Danny had always wanted a brother...but not like this! And not so many either!

It had started when he was fighting Desiree. Everything was normal-well, as normal as fighting an undead genie could get-and then a kid fell out of a portal onto the rooftop next to them.

They both looked over at the kid as he picked himself up. Danny glared at the genie and she held her hands up in a placating gesture, "I swear it wasn't me this time." Judging by how she seemed just as baffled by the situation as him, he believed her.

The kid stared at them through the white outs of his mask. Danny stared down at him and yep. That was a superhero outfit. Complete with mask and cape. He quickly souped Desiree before she could pull anything and floated down to the kid, "Hey buddy-" he yelped and jumped out of the way of the kids sword.

Why does he have a sword?!

The kid didn't seem responsive to anything Danny was saying and Danny spent the next few minutes just dodging sword swipes until he managed to restrain him with one of his parents inventions and brought him home to FentonWorks and changed back into a human (away from the kids line of sight of course)

His friends were a bit shocked that he came home with a living person and he had to explain what happened while Stabby tried to wiggle out of his bonds.

That was when his parents walked in.

Danny had to retell them an altered version of the story from before and they began examining him. The kid was practically feral before his dad exclaimed, "I know!" And ran to the fridge and pulled out some of the Fenton Fudge.

He ran back over and popped it into the kids mouth before anyone could stop him. Everyone just stared as the kid calmed down, looking at them with confusion and wonder as the fudge melted in his mouth.

Aka Danny keeps getting Damian clones via portal delivery and his family keeps taming them with Fenton Fudge and adopting them. The League of Assassins have no idea where all thier clones are disappearing to...

#dpxdc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #batman #danny phantom #danny fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #jazz fenton #supportive fentons?#the magic of the fenton fudge #lmao danny keepts getting new brothers but its technically the same brother #the fentons are so excited about thier new sons(s) and cant wait to teach them to hunt ghosts. Amity Park trembles in fear #imagine the bats or the loas response to this though?

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littlecrittereli · 4 months

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Reprogrammed AU Minicomic

Whoever set off that villain alarm better be prepared to get the most brutal Wild Kratts intervention

#wild kratts #reprogrammed au #wk reprogrammed au #chris kratt #martin kratt #wild kratts fanart #technically not spoilers because theres no guarantee this exact scene will happen in the fanfiction #but i thought it was silly #so i wanted to draw it anyways #Aviva proceeds to disassemble the entire alarm system out of rage with a paperclip #they are seriously considering knocking Chris out with a frying pan #mostly kidding.... but it's definitely crossed their minds at least once #Martin's look of “If you wake him I'm going to either kill you or break down crying”#is very reminiscent of a new parent who hasn't had a proper rest in a month and finally put their kid to sleep

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campbyler · 2 months

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OUT OF FOCUS, EYE TO EYE

☼ AN ACSWY COMPANION FIC ☼

“Jesus, how much did you drink?” Mike frowns. He hadn’t been counting them up or anything — he’s not Will’s keeper — but he’s sure it couldn’t have been enough for him to be acting like this. They’d been out on the trail for just a couple of hours, and whatever shitty booze Dustin had managed to wheedle off Steve probably didn’t surpass an ABV of 20% anyway. Will holds up a clumsy hand and, squinting in concentration, puts up four fingers. He lowers one after a moment, frowns, then puts it back up again. “Okay,” Mike says, after four does not turn back into three. “So you’re kind of a lightweight. Good to know.” Will huffs, a sharp, irritated noise. “I’m not that drunk,” he says — a blatant lie.

The Party partakes in Camp Whiteman's (unofficial) first-year counselor traditions, and Mike partakes in being designated babysitter.

#byler #byler fic #byler fanfiction #byler ao3 #byler tumblr #acswy update #<- not technically to the fic but yk. the universe.#acswy companions

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milf-harrington · 10 months

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i just haven't met you (yet)

alright here's your bloody part two, jesus christ ♡

part one

----

The door unlocked with a series of clunking pops before Steve even registered the sound of boots on the porch.

The cabin was too deep in the woods to avoid regular visitors and the area was boobytrapped enough to discourage anyone else, but still, Hopper frowned disapprovingly at the back of El's head when the door swung open before he reached it.

"You're meant to wait until I knock."

She twisted around to see him over her shoulder, blood smudged under her nostril. "Why?"

The police chief sighed, closing the door behind him and re-engaging each lock by hand. A plastic bag dangled from his fingers.

"Because I could'a been anyone- someone dangerous."

"But you are not."

"But I could have been."

It was a conversation they had often, and this time Steve welcomed it, sinking further into the couch and hoping to avoid any possibility of Hop bringing up the walkie incident.

El had spotted the bag, climbing to her feet in a graceless un-piling of arms and legs.

Thanks to the combined efforts of both their appetites, the pizza cooling on the stove was the third of the night, but Steve knew she'd still be gorging herself on eggo's as soon as she got her hands on them. That girls stomach was an endless abyss, apparently.

Hopper didn't even get a chance to put the bag down before El was rummaging through it, and Steve huffed fondly.

Mistake.

Hopper's eyes flicked up to meet his, mustache twitching, and Steve groaned, leaning his head back against the couch and hiding his face in his hands.

"Can we just forget it happened?" He pleaded.

El, bright yellow boxes piled in one arm, looked between them. "Forget? Why are we forgetting?"

Before Steve could come up with a clever diversion, Hopper was already ruffling her hair and heading for the kitchen. "Your brother embarrassed himself on the radio earlier."

El blinked and tilted her head. "What did you do?"

Steve whined, mortification still simmering in his belly. "I asked if the guy Hop arrested was cute, and he heard it."

"Why is that embarrassing?"

"I wasn't arresting him."

Steve straightened up, ignoring El's question in favour of Hopper's reveal.

"You weren't?"

So, he hadn't called a criminal cute?

Hopper didn't look at him, preoccupied with lifting a slice of pizza free from the tray. "You know how those rich types are-"

Steve grimaced in agreement.

"- they think anyone who's not up to their standards is up to no good."

Something settled in Steve's stomach and he picked at the pizza crust under his nails.

He hadn't called a criminal cute.

"So why'd you take him to the station?"

Hopper grunted, mouth and plate full as he dropped it on the table. El remained in the kitchen, watching the toaster with her chin resting on the back of her hands.

"Protocol mainly. I got his statement about what he was doing in that area, then let him call his uncle to pick him up."

The toaster popped and the tv flickered when El startled. Steve cracked a smile.

"Look," Hopper sighed at the ceiling. "Munson is a pain in the ass, and I've hauled him in for possession more often than I'd like, but he's a good kid."

He shot Steve another grin as El settled beside him with her plate of waffles, and Steve got a bad feeling.

"Don't worry, though. I told him you're cute too."

El caught the pillow before it could knock over the salt shaker, freezing it in mid-air before letting it drop silently to the hardwood.

#i actually wrote this ages ago but forgot to post it sdkfhsdkjf #anyway here's your part 2 #i know a bunch of people asked to be tagged but the list is somewhere in my room and i cbf getting up to find it #my writing #steve harrington #jim hopper #eleven 'jane' hopper #stranger things #steve harrington fanfiction #steddie #technically

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the-juno-comet · 4 months

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Some miserable Vox-es to promote my RadioStatic fic I'll be updating whenever the brainrot demands! Also, drawing laying down vox was harder than I thought it'd be

#the horrors of creation #hazbin hotel vox #radiostatic #im not tagging alastor cux he technically isnt here #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel fanfiction #voxal #hazbin vox #staticradio

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t1meslayer · 5 months

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The whole Scarlet/Violet DLC epilogue rules, but one of my favorite bits of characterization is Penny puffing out her chest and pretending to be above all those horror movies she definitely hasn’t watched, only to immediately start freaking out when things get spooky.

Look at how offended she is at Arven outing her.

#Poor Arven #Love Penny tho #And Arven too #The whole crew in this game rules #I know the actual game is a technical mess but goddamn if they didn’t get the writing right here #Carrying a story along three releases actually gives you time to develop fun characters #Who would’ve guessed?#Pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon dlc #Arven #Nemona #Nintendo #Switch #Will this recapture the magic of Kieran post?#Probably not #But a man can dream #Anyway fanfictions coming soon #pokemon scarvi

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txttletale · 10 months

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You've spoken at length about how the Lancer setting is just wildly incongruent with what the authors think it is at length, and I agree wholeheartedly. My question is, largely for the purpose of if I ever want to run a game of it again, how would you make the setting carry that tone the authors think it has without too terribly much rewriting? Say, from the point of 'there was a revolution to overthrow seccom'? I love the 'gallant warriors of liberation in giant robots' and would like it if the game actually was that.

But the more the bureaucratic apparatus is “redistributed” among the various bourgeois and petty-bourgeois parties , the more keenly aware the oppressed classes, and the proletariat at their head, become of their irreconcilable hostility to the whole of bourgeois society. Hence the need for all bourgeois parties, even for the most democratic and "revolutionary-democratic" among them, to intensify repressive measures against the revolutionary proletariat, to strengthen the apparatus of coercion, i.e., the state machine. This course of events compels the revolution "to concentrate all its forces of destruction" against the state power, and to set itself the aim, not of improving the state machine, but of smashing and destroying it.

-- Vladimir Lenin, The State & Revolution

In the heady days after the revolution, the air buzzed with potential. The future was today. Hazy, gaseous dreams of liberation patiently awaited their turn to be forged into something you could touch. But those days didn't last for long. The coalition was already a fragile thing during the revolution, and now that it was faced with the levers of Union's imperial machine each hairline crack became a chasm. The corporate armies, who had marched under the banner of the enormous profits locked away behind Harrison Armory's legal monopolies, had reached their personal horizons and refused to move an inch further. The moderates and high-class intellectuals saw the wealth that Union funneled from its edges being distributed generously to the citizens of the Core Worlds and declared a new economic paradigm of post-scarcity and mutual wealth. The anarchist cells with their mysterious reality-hacking mechs were the first to come to the only inevitable conclusion: the revolution was not over.

Now that the old order had been surgically deposed, the new order was finding itself fitting comfortably in its throne. Humbled and stripped of its previous privileges, Harrison Armory was welcomed back into the halls of power under the smiling auspices of free enterprise. Groundbreaking legislation was still being written in the halls of ThirdComm--guaranteeing the right of worlds to self-determination, the rights of clones to live freely, even radical and heretofore-unthinkable proposals laying the groundwork for an end to NHP-shackling. But the old revolutionaries had grown weary and cautious (and, of course, had begun to personally experience the economic benefits of Union's vast hegemony). To enforce this legislation, they argued, would be a de facto redeclaration of war against the corpostates, a disaster for the trade networks on which our wealth depends. To those who still harboued the hopes of revolutionary change, this was a loud and clear signal: the war had not ended. The revolution was not over.

The All-Galaxy Revolutionary Front as it exists now is a set of strange bedfellows. The disciplined combat battalions of the Communist Party fly in perfect harmony, distinguishable by their red battle flags, mass-produced in collectivized forges with reverse-engineered corpo tech. The motley individual oddities that the anarchists call their mechs, their open-source physics-bending HORUS peculiarities, strike unpredictably, in and out of ThirdComm's sight. But the one thing which binds them all, as they fight for the liberation of the peripheral worlds, for the wealth of mines and factories to enrich the people of the planets they're built on instead of fueling ever-replenishing consumption in the distant Core, is that they still have those old revolutionary dreams.

This is what it means to be a Lancer: to be willing to struggle. To acknowledge that the revolution is not over.

#ask #scrumpledorph #ttrpg #is this technically lancer fanfiction? yeah

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ashanimus · 1 year

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For @lollytea, fanart of her fic The Atlas and the Avid Reader!

#toh #the owl house #the owl house hunter #the owl house willow #willow park #hunter wittebane #toh willow #toh hunter #huntlow #hunter noceda #ash art #I've been ranting about her work for ages to people who don't even read fanfiction #she has an emotional and technical mastery that is seriously impressive #thank you for sharing your work lollytea its wonderful #illustration #toh fanart

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sherbetstudios · 5 months

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Honey, I’m home! [LFLS animation meme/PMV]

⚠️ blood cw

+ the yt thumbnail

this will also be premiering at the same time this is posted!

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geraskierfanficprompts · 2 months

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Prompt 12

Geralt has a thing for biting. Jaskier has a thing for not looking like a mauling victim the day he performs at a very prestigious court. Geralt agrees he'll hold off on the biting for a few nights, so Jaskier is "presentable." But now he looks unclaimed. He looks like he has nobody that loves him and watches over him. Nobody that can bite him in the heat of passion. Geralt sucks it up and decides that he'll just have to come along to make sure nobody gets any ideas about doing anything to his bard. And so what if he spends most of the night staring longingly at Jaskier's neck like some kind of starved vampire? Who says you get to judge? *grumpy witcher noises*

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rocksalt-and-pie · 2 years

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shout-out to the makers of NBC Hannibal for (clearly) reading all four books about Hannibal Lecter by Thomas Harris and going "hmm. actually we will make the gayest possible version of this" going on to COMPLETELY disregard the other main character and (canon) ?love interest? of the series and never even MENTION Clarice Starling. Like it's so funny to me that she never even appears on the show when book!Will Graham literally fucks off after The Red Dragon and wants nothing to do with any of this anymore and book!Hannibal is obsessed with Clarice in the same way that tv!Hannibal is obsessed with tv!Will. like they really took a whole book franchise, picked out the cherries, and made it their own personal little gay AU. that's so refreshing and should be a leading example in television adaptations. in this essay i will

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #Clarice Starling #thomas harris #nbc hannibal #mp #i actually like clarice as a character though #but i do think that the red dragon is the best book of the series and they get worse and worse #also they have nothing to do with the show when it comes to aesthetics #they're literally just action filled crime thrillers. they feel very to the point‚ very technical and practical and sober #whereas the show is literally just art and poetry and emotions and meaning and simply beautiful #i also love that the show treats its female characters so much better than the books #the books feel very masculine which is just due to the time of publishing i guess #i feel like a lot of books written and published by men in the 80s/90s have this very brutalist straight forward no emotions style #but yeah. the people who made the show really went all out with it and i love how their interpretation is kinda just high scale fanfiction #like i respect that so much and also: goals

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 8 months

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Halloween prompts year 2 day 14

Tim was the best thing to ever happen to Danny.

He didn't mean that just because how much of a sappy romantic he was to Tim, but because he literally saved him from his own mind.

Danny was never going to leave Amity Park so long as the portal was open.

The portal would always remain open between his parents practically treating it like thier third child and thier ability to simply make another if anything would have happened to that one. Not to mention the super creep named Vlad.

So Danny would have stayed in Amity forever, cleaning up after his parents and being miserable.

Or ya know. Until they managed to kill him.

But then Tim came into his life and fixed everything. He befriended Danny over nightime rooftop rendezvous and groaning at his dumb (read awesome) puns.

As they got closer Sam and Tucker seemed to get both anxious and angry. Were they jealous? What right did they have after the Gregor incident?! Its true that they'd both been to busy to hand out with Danny for the past few weeks, leaving Danny with only Tim to turn to for company.

Tim pointed out that they may feel threatened knowing someone else knows his secret and Danny couldn't help but agree.

Tim pointed out that Danny was going to be stuck here cleaning up after his parent the rest of his life if he didn't find a way to stop the portal. Danny had nearly broke down at that and admitted he didn't know what else to do, so Tim devised a plan with that big beautiful brain of his.

They created a machine that ran on ectoplasm and magic that could wipe information from both technology and the human brain. They could remove all traces of ghosts ever existing in this town and erase 20 years of knowledge and research from Vlad and the Fentons minds, but it would come at a cost as magic usually does.

They would have to forget Danny existed as well. Tim offered that they could run away together.

Danny decided that was okay. The only person he had left in this town who had cared about him was Jazz and she was better off without him there to get her hurt.

Tim also had a plan to strip Vlad of his powers as well as his knowledge, and Danny was looking forward to not having to deal with him anymore

It was the day after everything went down, Tim was driving the GAV while Danny flew in the Ops Centers Jet form. They had made sure to swipe everything they could from the labs as well as everything the thought they needed to travel to Tims home dimension.

Danny had promised to help Tim uncover the secrets of his past and who he really was and to do that they essentially planned to travel around the Earth being wandering criminals.

Between Tims intellect and Dannys powers they were undefeated and unnoticed. They stole whatever they wanted and did whatever they pleased, making sure no one had to get hurt unless there was no other options.

Of course they stole cash from bank vaults as well as whatever else was in there. They couldn't stop Phantom from entering since anti-meta tech didn't affect him and couldnt track Phantom due to him being whatever he was plus the collar Tim had helped Danny design that covered up his ecto-signature.

They lived like this for over a year, breaking in to abandoned places, having waterfights in large city waterfountains (and running when they heard police sirens), tagging some of the places they'd hit when they wanted to leave a message, long romantic walks at night, lots of laughter, going on dates to restaurants (they never dine & dash. Some places make the wait staff pay which is bull and they might want to return to that establishment at some point), that one time they stole a $900 wedding cake from a homophobic bakery owner, lots of Fake out-Make outs to avoid getting sent to jail, ect.

They were having the time of thier lives up until they stopped in a little 24 hour diner in Bludhaven. They were doing what they usually do, flirting and laughing until the waiter takes thier order, when a guy approached thier table. Tim and Danny exchanged worried looks before the guy held up his hands in mock surrender, "I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise, I'm Dick Grayson." The man held out his hand to Tim, who hesitated before shaking it, "Tim," he answered honestly.

Danny nudged him with his foot under the table.

The man smiled wide, "Like Tim Drake?"

Tim and Danny looked confused, "Like who?" Danny asked and Dicks smile faltered

#halloween prompts #dpxdc #prompts #danny phantom #danny fenton #tim drake #clone tim drake #criminal tim drake #technically #criminal danny fenton #fanfiction prompts #batman #red robin #partners in crime #clone tim has no memories from before waking up in a vat or glowing green water and doesnt know hes a clone #clone tim was super angry when he saw how poorly danny was treated by the people he loved and vowed to free him #they ran away together #danny is mentally planning thier wedding #dock is trying to figure out the situation #the bats think either danny is some kind of demon manipulating clone tim or that clone tim is evil and manipulating danny for his powers #i was planning for the plan with vlad to go wrong and them having to kill vlad. they talk about it in a room the bats had bugged and they #fight about it cause they both want themselves to take the blame if anyone in this dimension finds out so the other can escape #the bats rethink the manipulation angle and consider that this might genuinely be two teenagers being runaways and just acting out #*tim* is supposed to be a clone in this but its also good if this is Tim drake who lost his memories and ended up in another dimension #just for his friends and families responce to him turning to crime

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