#in which there is a lot of looking and a lot of pining

[munsonify]

shy girl

pairing. steve harrington x fem!reader

summary. steve harrington finds himself entranced with achingly shy, quiet costumer at family video

content warnings. fluff, steve being a flirt, softie!steve, shy&quiet!reader, no use of y/n, pining, unestablished relationship, cutie patootie steve, r finding her confidence

word count. 2970

a/n. we all know ariel is a yapper when she has her voice so i’m writing this where r starts yapping when she isn’t so nervous and shy cause i can

disney princess collection

steve saw a lot of people come and go from family video. he didn’t have a knack for remembering who he’s seen come in, faces eventually blurring together the longer he worked there, the more hours he was given. there were regulars that came in, some of which he remembered vaguely. it’s hard to forget when someone comes in and rents out the same movie for the third time in a row, or picks up a particularly odd movie to watch. him and robin tended to gossip when that happened, so maybe that’s why folks like that were more likely to be committed to his memory.

there were exceptions to that, and you were absolutely apart of it.

from the moment you stepped foot into the store, head hung a little low, beelining your way towards the romcom section, steve was paying full attention to you. normally he wouldn’t pay any mind to customers when they came in, only assisting them in finding a movie if they asked, ringing them up while barely looking them in the face. you caught his eye.

you’re quick footsteps were what drew him in at first, though your looks were what kept him engaged. he only caught a glimpse of you at first as you hustled towards the back of the store, desperate to find the movie you were searching for. it was enough to have him double taking, eyes tracking your movements. steve, as nonchalantly as possible, went back to sliding more returned movies onto the shelves, now a little unfocused. it was only him in the store, so he knew he’d get the chance of a better look at you, to speak to you. a part of him wished robin was with him to see him in action, to prove to her that he wasn’t always striking out.

out of the corner of his eye, steve saw you shuffle your way up to the counter, two tapes in hand. with a deep breath, he turned on his feet, walking behind the counter to ring you up.

“hey beautiful,” he greeted not as smoothly as he planned. steve was fumbling with the scanner when he spoke, tripping over his feet slightly. he straightened up his back on instinct, offering a toothy smile to you. warmth spread across your face at his words, quickly handing him the movies to rent. he noticed the way you became flustered, mentally applauding himself as he gently took the tapes from your hand. “find what you were looking for okay?”

“hi, yeah,” you whispered out, a little unsure what to do with yourself, or how to accept the compliment he’d given you. you wondered if he said that to a lot of the girls that came in, and he was only being nice. when you didn’t say anything else to him, steve’s eyebrows quirked up in confusion. for someone who seemed interested and flustered at his compliment at first, you sure had a weird way of showing it.

after scanning the three tapes you’d brought up, steve gently slid them across the counter, offering up a charming smile. he watched as your eyelashes fluttered at the sight of it, your throat bobbing slightly as you swallow. now, he was even more confused than before. he watched as you handed him over a ten after he told you the total, his hands fumbling with your change as he thought through his next course of action.

“have a good rest of your day, beautiful, enjoy the movies,” steve settled on, the same charming smile as before. you gave him a small smile as you take the change from his hand, skin grazing against his, making you a little weak in the knees. you forced a small smile to him, one you wanted to be natural - a smile you knew you meant -, before grabbing the tapes and turning on your heels to leave.

steve watched as you leaved perplexed. he was glad robin wasn’t here to see that, maybe he was always striking out.

———

three days had passed since you’d come into family video, and you were still on steve’s mind. as pretty as you are, you had confused him a little. he’d gone straight to robin that night, rambling on about the conversation over the phone to her while she was working on her homework. all robin did was brush it off as if it was nothing, despite it plaguing his mind.

“maybe she just wasn’t into you, dingus. not everyone has to enjoy your flirting.”

obviously steve knew that. he’s been turned down dozens of times, and while it bruised his ego a little, he respected that. he let it go, because at the end of the day, it really wasn’t that big of a deal. with you it was a different. he truly thought you were into his compliment, taken aback by his flirting in a good way. he’s usually good at taking a hint. this just didn’t seem like that to him.

the moment steve saw you walk back into the store, his eyes lit up. this was his chance to try and get another read on you, to see if he was completely off base. you were quick to find your way to the front counter, your head on a swivel as you look around for someone to assist you.

you’d worked yourself up all morning to walking back in the store to return the movies you rented. you wanted to have something of use to say, to have any sort of reaction that wasn’t simply standing there awkwardly. all you thought of for the last couple days was the way steve smiled at you, the way he complimented you with such confidence, the way he seemed so casual with his flirting.

your eyes went wide when you watched him approach the counter, slipping back behind it to assist you again. you were hopeful he was working, to catch him at the right time. you were grateful you did. he looked just as handsome as you remembered. steve gave you the same charming smile he gave you earlier in the week, confident to redeem himself from something he didn’t need to.

“hey, i remember you,” steve said, looking you dead in the eyes, soft and inviting. “sixteen candles, right?”

you nodded quickly at his words, surprised he’d remembered you, let alone one of the movies you’d rented. you gave him a small smile as you gently handed him the tapes. you tried your best to make small talk, even if you were a little awkward with it. “yeah, it was good.”

you watched as steve marked the movies as returned in the computer system, before setting them aside in a bin for him to rewind later. unsure what to say, you gave steve a small smile, pointing your thumb towards the door as you start walking away. still without much of an answer, he let you walk out, waving a goodbye to you, before calling out to you.

“can’t wait to see you back in again, beautiful.”

whether he was being polite or he genuinely meant what he said, those words made your heart begin beating out of your chest. you turn your head to look back at him with a small smile, nearly running into the door as you push your way out. the sight of it made steve chuckle, shaking his head as he watched you stumble out of the store. while he may not have much a read on you still, he was convinced you at least liked his compliments a little.

———

four more days passed by between visits, though steve’s mind still stayed hooked on you. something about you drew him in. normally, he wasn’t one to gravitate towards quiet girls. he liked being around someone who could hold a conversation, who could laugh loud without a care in the world, who didn’t shy away from things. but you? you were intriguing, pretty, captivating. he kinda liked how quiet you were, it was different from what he’s used to. he was dying to know more about you.

you’d felt the same way about steve. you liked how outgoing he was, how confident he could be. it wasn’t often, if ever, that you were flirted with. especially not this boldly, not out in public without a care in the world. you yearned for the day you got to see him again.

a horror movie was calling your name as you found your way towards the video store again, a hint of hopefulness in your body as you step out of your car, shuffling your way towards the entrance. a large smile plastered on your face the moment your eyes found steve through the large window. you contained it the best you could as you opened the door, the bell jingling above you to notify him that someone had entered.

he was behind the counter today as you entered, fumbling around with a tape he was rewinding. steve’s head lifted up at the sound of the door opening, back straightening up from its hunched form at the sight of you. he watched you smile small and wave, fingers wiggling slightly as you walk towards the counter. he smiled along with you, eyes curiously dancing across your face, watching you stop in front of the counter.

“hey,” steve greeted, sitting the tape down. he stared down at you, noticing the way your fingers fumbled with each other.

“hey,” you responded, staring up into his eyes, still a little shy. normally, you’d go searching for the movie on your own, seeing what catches your eye. you liked browsing in peace. but now that you’d met steve? you wanted nothing more than an excuse to talk to him. “do you have any good horror movies in?”

steve was quick to move from the counter, rounding around it, eager to help you find a movie. he ushered you towards the horror section, making sure you were following him over before he started to ramble on. you stood just a few inches away from him as he began pointing through movies, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him, his expensive cologne wafting into your senses. it had your mind racing.

“we’ve got a lot right now,” he started. “if you’re looking for slashers we have sleepaway camp in, friday the thirteenth, prom night. i’d usually reccomend a nightmare on elm street, but i just rented it out this morning.”

you shook your head slightly, nose scrunching up his words. while you usually didn’t mind slashers, enjoyable at times, you were looking for something different. and hey, maybe you just wanted to hear steve keep talking, but that wasn’t the point. he gave you a small smile, walking over just a few inches to read off more movies.

“no slashers today, got it. we’ve got poltergeist, the shining, hellraiser,” he rambled off, pointing at each of them as he spoke. steve watched as you carefully reach for poltergeist, sliding it off the shelf and into your grip. you show it to him with a small smile.

“good choice,” he affirms, nodding his head towards the counter again, walking first as you follow. you hand him the tape once he finds his way back behind the counter, putting it under your name, before he scans it into the system. steve, as smoothly as possible, indirectly asks you a question that’s been weighing on his mind. “i’m sure you and your boyfriend are gonna love it.”

“boyfriend?” you squeak out quickly, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. the last thing you wanted was for steve to think you had a boyfriend. you were single, very single. you barely noticed the small, smug smirk that graced his lips, head turning to look at you slightly.

“no boyfriend, got it,” he noted in a whisper, though loud enough for you to hear. he handed the tape back to you, skin making contact just like the first time you’d interacted with him. you started to fist out some cash from your purse, only for steve to interrupt you in a smooth, quiet voice. “don’t worry about it, beautiful. it’s on me today.”

you look up at him in surprise, lips parting slightly as your mind starts to turn, looking for something to say. the smug smile that seemed to have a permanent place on his face was still there, his brown eyes soft and charming. he seemed insistent on it.

“you’re sure?” you asked quietly, a small from on your face. as sweet as it was, you didn’t want him to feel obligated to. not that you’d given him a reason to feel that way.

“absolutely,” steve told you, sincerity dripping from every inch of him.

“thank you,” you told him, voice still small, an appreciative smile replacing your frown. you fumbled with your purse while you began your journey out of the store. you gave him a wave goodbye before you exit, the bell leaving him in silence.

you realized quickly on your ride home that you should’ve invited him over to watch it with you. while he might not have been implying it, it just seemed like the right thing to do. steve was sweet, charming, and seemed as into you as you were into him. it would’ve been nice to watch the movie with the man. if only you weren’t so nervous around him. you could barely get a word out, let alone enough to ask him on a date.

———

it seemed your luck has run out on your fourth trip to family video. despite being excited to come back, only a day between trips, you must’ve came in on steve’s day off. up front today was robin, who was rewinding videos just like he was just the other day. you frowned as you not-so-casually looked around the store, slowly walking towards the front counter. the girl offered you a tight lipped smile as you approached her, setting the tapes down, noticing your eyes searching the store.

“looking for something?” robin asked, watching as you give her the same small smile. you shook your head, handing her the tape you’d been so kindly given by steve.

“no, just came to return this,” you told her, hands moving to meet each other in front of you, thumbs twiddling together. there was a disappointed look on your face she noticed quickly. robin was able to pinpoint exactly why the moment she’d taken a glance down at the name of the film. her lips quirked up in a smile, immediately going to search for your name in the computer system.

“it’s his day off,” she informed you without saying his name. you were quick to understand who she was talking about, of course you were. you hummed out quietly at her words, from deepening slightly. you were excited to see him, disappointed that you didn’t get to. so much so that you didn’t realize she knew you were looking for him. not until she continued to talk. “i was starting to believe you weren’t real, ya know. thought he was making you up for fun.”

heat rose up your neck and to your face robins words, one of your hands moving to the back of your neck to scratch awkwardly. you looked over at her expectantly, your heart beating fast. “he’s been talking about me?”

“god yeah,” robin told you, huffing out a breath of air. “he won’t shut up about you.”

you found yourself quoting him as you backed away from the counter, seeing yourself out as you spoke under your breath, words robin just barely caught. “good to know.”

———

the next time you were in family video, you didn’t have a single intention of getting a movie. the only thing you went in for was steve, to see his face, to hear his voice. you practically skipped through the front door when you noticed he was working today, an excited smile on your face as you found your way towards him. he had his back towards you putting away some movies, so he hadn’t noticed it was you who entered the store. not until you spoke to him.

“steve?” you called out in a soft voice, hands behind your back politely as you wait for him to answer. he was quick to spin around on his feet, an immediate smile on his face when he’d heard it was you. your voice was recognizable, especially because of how scarcely you used it. “hey.”

“hey, you,” steve responded, a cheesy look on his face as he sets everything down from his hands, arms crossing as his focus shifts to you.

“you weren’t here when i returned poltergeist, i didn’t get to tell you how i liked it,” you told him, an even cheesier look on your face. you watched as steve glanced between the watch on his wrist and robin, who was manning down the counter. it was a busy saturday, one of the only times there were two people on shift together.

he held up a finger for you to wait, a large smile on his face as he shuffles quickly over to the counter. he rested his forearms against the surface, leaning over to robin to speak in a low whisper. you watched curiously as they spoke together, seeing the girl shake her head in disbelief, a loud, exasperated sigh leaving her lips. steve seemed pleased with himself when he finally found his way back to you.

“convinced her to let me take my 30 minutes early. you can tell me all about the movie over lunch. deal?” he asked full of hope. his round, hazel eyes looked at you expectantly, soft and welcoming and intoxicating to look at.

“deal.”

[spitefulsatanfics]

“Ain’t Nothing Subtle ‘Bout the Way He Loves Her”

Word Count: 4,631

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Setting: Supernatural, Season 2 (set shortly after “Born Under a Bad Sign”)

Tones: ☑ Fluff ☑ Domestic Love (as domestic as hunters get) ☑ Pre-established Relationship ☑ Found Family Vibes ☑ Lovesick!Dean who tries so hard to be cool ☑ Reader overhears how gone he is for her and melts

Synopsis:

⸻

When Dean brings Y/N to the Roadhouse for the first time, it’s just supposed to be a pitstop. A beer, a burger, maybe a tip on the next hunt. But Ellen’s no fool, and Ash doesn’t miss much either—and neither of them can help but notice the way Dean’s entire world shifts a little when Y/N walks in the room. He’s trying to be cool. Chill. The guy. But when the woman you love knows how to stitch a wound, kill a wendigo, and laugh at your worst jokes? Well, you’re gonna talk about her. A lot. Y/N overhears every soft confession, every bashful brag. And when Dean finds out? Let’s just say… the flustered hunter is real.

⸻

“Ain’t Nothing Subtle ‘Bout the Way He Loves Her”

The sun was dying slow and gold behind the Colorado hills when the Impala pulled up outside the Roadhouse. Dust rose soft around her tires like the place itself was exhaling—welcoming, wary, watching. It was the kind of spot that made your boots feel heavier and your shoulders feel lighter, if you knew what to do with a whiskey and had something worth bleeding for.

Dean popped the driver’s door, stepping out with his usual lean-and-stretch maneuver. The leather jacket creaked, the air smelled like beer, old pine, and maybe a dash of demon stink from some nearby town they’d just cleared out. But for once, his muscles weren’t tight with mission or guilt. Instead, his eyes flicked to the passenger door where she sat, legs tucked under her, hair wild from the wind.

“Y’ready for the madness?” he grinned, cocking a brow.

Y/N stepped out, slamming the heavy door closed behind her. “Please. I’ve seen you try to eat gas station sushi. I think I can handle your friends.”

Dean laughed—full and unguarded, the kind of laugh that made him look five years younger and a little more like the boy his mom remembered.

Inside, the Roadhouse was alive with the usual hum. Darts clinked. Glasses thudded. Ash’s ridiculous hair bobbed behind the bar as he scrolled something on his ancient laptop. Ellen looked up from a rag she was wringing out, sharp eyes landing on Dean. Then on the woman walking in beside him.

And like a switch flipped, her entire face changed.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Ellen said, a grin crawling slow across her face. “Dean Winchester, bringing a date into my bar?”

Dean instantly stiffened. “She’s not a date, she’s—”

Y/N was already giggling. “Don’t worry, Ellen. I know how hopeless he is with labels.”

That got a laugh from Jo, who popped out from the back room like she’d been waiting for the curtain to rise. “He’s definitely hopeless, alright.”

Dean groaned. “Great. A tag team.”

But Ellen wasn’t done. She came around the bar and sized Y/N up like a general inspecting a new recruit. Her eyes were sharp, measuring—but kind beneath it all. “You hunt?”

Y/N nodded. “My dad started me off with salt rounds and silver before I was potty trained.”

That got Ellen’s respect. She reached out to shake her hand.

Dean, behind them, tried so hard to play it cool. Just nods, casual, stoic. But his eyes betrayed him. Every second, he was checking Y/N’s face. Watching her reaction. Smiling like he’d swallowed the goddamn sun.

And Ellen saw it. Oh, she saw it.

⸻

An hour in and Dean had loosened up. The gang had made room at their usual table, drinks flowing, stories flying. Jo was trying to one-up Y/N with old salt-burn tales. Ash was explaining the finer points of demon detection with his “genius-level IQ,” which basically meant “I drink beer and hack things.”

And Dean?

Dean was floating. One arm over the back of Y/N’s chair, one leg half tangled with hers. He wasn’t even subtle. Whenever she laughed at something Jo said, he grinned like he’d won a war. Every time she reached for her beer, he was already sliding it closer.

Ellen stood at the bar, arms folded, watching the whole damn thing like it was a soap opera.

“You ever seen him like this?” she asked quietly to Ash.

Ash didn’t even look up from his screen. “Never. Dude’s whipped.”

⸻

Later, Y/N excused herself to the bathroom, and Dean got up to grab her another drink—leaving her jacket slung over the chair.

That’s when Ellen made her move.

“You got it bad,” she said, flat-out, wiping down the bar in slow circles.

Dean raised a brow. “What?”

She stared him down like a seasoned gunslinger. “Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. You’ve been grinning like an idiot all night. The only time you looked away from her was when you were blinking.”

Dean scoffed, scratched the back of his neck. “She’s cool. That’s all.”

Ellen leaned in. “You called her your girl three times already. And just now? You ordered her drink before she even asked. You don’t do that unless you’ve memorized someone’s whole damn soul.”

Dean blushed.

Actually blushed.

“Oh, man,” Ash mumbled from the end of the bar. “It’s terminal.”

Dean shot him a look. “Bite me.”

But Ellen smiled—soft now, not teasing. Just… knowing.

“She makes you happy, doesn’t she?” she asked.

Dean looked down at the bar top, swirling the condensation off his beer bottle with one finger.

“Yeah,” he said. “She does.”

And like some cheesy fate-orchestrated moment from a movie?

Y/N had walked up just in time to hear that.

⸻

He didn’t notice right away.

Not until she kissed his cheek when he handed her the beer, still warm from the bottle but even warmer from her lips.

He blinked. “What was that for?”

Y/N just smiled, coy. “Just… felt like it.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “What’d I miss?”

Ellen chuckled under her breath.

Y/N leaned closer, her voice low and honey-smooth: “Nothing, baby. Just glad to be here.”

⸻

Outside, later that night, Dean had her pressed against the Impala, arms on either side, breath puffing warm in the chill.

“You heard me, didn’t you?” he muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Heard what?”

Dean groaned. “You know what.”

She laughed. “That you memorized my whole damn soul?”

Dean groaned louder, forehead thumping to her shoulder. “God, kill me now.”

But she pulled him in tighter, fingers sliding into the back of his hair.

“Not a chance,” she whispered. “I kinda like lovesick Dean.”

Dean grumbled against her neck. “I’m not lovesick.”

“Mm-hmm,” she teased. “Tell that to the three different people you told I’m the best shot you’ve ever seen."

“I stand by that.”

“And that I make better pie than you.”

“Lies. Slander. I was drunk.”

“And that you’d give up the Impala if it meant keeping me safe.” Dean stilled. Pulled back, looked into her eyes.

“I meant that one,” he said, voice low.

Her breath caught. “Dean…”

He leaned in. Kissed her soft. Then whispered against her lips, “Ain’t nothing subtle about the way I love you, sweetheart.”

⸻

Author’s Note:

Thank you for reading, you sinfully sweet sugar demons! If you ever wondered what it would look like if Dean tried not to be totally whipped in public and failed? This is it. Thank you for loving these soft moments with me, for believing in the kind of peace a hunter might dare to touch. Until next time, keep the pie warm and the Impala fuelled.

Love always, Little Devil 🖤🔥

[midnightquips]

That Old Feeling

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: It's been years since you've seen Bucky Barnes. You didn't plan to see him, but he definitely didn't look surprised to see you. Something's different, though. The looks. The heat. Maybe it's always been there. Maybe... you've just been too blind to see it before.

Themes: AU Thunderbolts, teasing officemates, possessive Bucky, friend's ex, Thunderbolts chaos (a consistent theme), friends-to-lovers, college crush so pining

🔴 MINORS DNI 🔴 Warnings: 18+ content, eventual smut, dirty talk, praise kink, soft aftercare, pwp, piv sex, unprotected sex

💫 That Old Feeling Masterlist 📌 Sign Up for TAGLIST

Chapter 2

Part III – What Are We Doing? 

You’re relieved that you managed to avoid Bucky for most of the day. You were almost successful. Until now.

You’re walking across the nearly empty parking lot, tote bag slung over one shoulder, head full of numbers from a late client call, when you spot him. Leaning against your car. Because of course he is.

“Seriously?” you mutter under your breath.

He hears you, then straightens up like he’s been waiting. Which, judging by the look on his face, he absolutely has.

“You stalking me now?” you call as you approach.

He shrugs, completely unbothered. “Saw you forgot your charger at your desk. Figured I’d bring it out. Do the chivalrous thing.”

You had been looking for your charger before you left and wondered where it was. How suspicious it was with him. You had a feeling he did this on purpose. But what bothered you more was how it actually didn’t bother you. 

You reach for it, but he doesn’t hand it over. He simply holds it up between two fingers like bait.

You narrow your eyes. “What do you want, Barnes?”

He pauses. Then: “Dinner.”

Your brain stutters. “What?”

He softens, the smile less cocky now. “Dinner. As in, let me take you to one.”

You blink. “Like… a date?”

“I mean, you kissed me like you might want to sit across from me for an hour and eat pasta.”

“That was…” You trail off, then try again. “That was just—”

“Tequila and nostalgia?”

You frown.

He grins. “I know what you’re gonna say. I just figured I’d ask politely instead of begging on my knees.”

You sigh and cross your arms. “Why?”

“Because I want to,” he says simply. “Because I think we missed something back then. And I’d like to see if we can get it right now.”

It’s annoyingly sincere. You hate how your stomach flips. “I don’t date coworkers.”

“You don’t date ex-roommates’ exes either,” he points out. “And yet...”

You scowl. “You’re really not gonna let that go, huh?”

“Not when I finally have a shot.”

The silence stretches. You shift your weight, glance at your car and finally back at him.

“Fine,” you say eventually. “Dinner. As colleagues. Reconnecting.”

His eyes sparkle. “Sure. Totally professional.”

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t get cocky.”

He smirks. “No promises.”

He hands you the charger and walks you to the driver’s side, like he’s worried the car might disappear if he looks away. You pause before unlocking it.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Not really.” He shrugs smugly

You shake your head, not able to keep the small smile from appearing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re gorgeous.”

You stare at him. His words catching you off-guard. 

His expression shifts and slows. “Can I say that?”

You swallow. “You just did.”

Suddenly, he steps in closer. It was just a few inches but you can feel the heat between you, the memory of his hands on your skin already creeping up your spine.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about last night,” he says, voice low. “The way you tasted. The way you moved.”

Your breath catches. “Bucky…”

“I know,” he says, raising his hands. “Not the time. Not the place. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say I want more of it.”

You try to keep your voice steady. “We said it was just a moment.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “But I want another one.”

You’re quiet. Too quiet. Because your brain is busy screaming danger and your body is saying please.

And then, before you can change your mind, before you can throw logic back in his face, he leans in. You think he’s going to kiss your cheek again. Polite. Safe. But his mouth lands right beside yours again. Like it did yesterday but this time on purpose. 

The kiss is on the edge of your lips. You shift just slightly. Just enough that suddenly it’s a kiss again.

This one’s different this time. Not frenzied. Not wild. Just slow. Deep. The kind of kiss that builds heat in your chest and travels down your spine like a fuse. 

He groans into it, low and quiet, like he’s been waiting all day for this exact moment. You part your lips, let him in, just once. He brings his hand to hold your face, sliding his tongue into your mouth. 

It makes your gasp. Then, you step back. Because if you don’t, you’re going to let him fuck you in the backseat of your car.

He’s breathing harder than before. Eyes hooded.

You lick your lips, but regret it instantly.

“Text me,” you say, unlocking the door. “If you still want to have dinner when your brain’s back online.”

He opens your door for you, still dazed. “I already do.”

You slide in. “Try not to camp out by my bumper tomorrow.”

“No promises.” 

You close the door before you can smile too much. But you see it in the mirror as you drive off. Bucky is standing there, watching you go, looking like he’s already planning what to wear.

Taglist: @enchantingwitchballoon @emilyswortwellen @tellybearryyyy @kiatjuddae @Luannastylinsonlupin @OtterlyCanadian @winchestert101 @bxtchboy69 @biggestfangirl @luannastylinsonlupin @Sebastians-love @fveapplestall @snhoe @ruexj283 @avengersfan25 @in-omn1a-paratus @avengemepercy

[galactic-feelins]

You may have noticed, but I like playing with concepts involving the multiverse. Be it the space between, or the infinite realms, or any other title you may grant it! The multiverse is vast and infinite, with everything that can exist and all those variations. Hell, the whole point of World Hoppers (whenever I finally get around to making/sharing that) is that no one can control the infinite. Yet, in Danny Phantom ghost king aus, it seems like he’s supposed to be in charge of the infinite realms, as if one world wasn't already too much to handle.

Anyway this is to say I like to think the various ghost kings only have jurisdiction over limited territories, which may imply they need an annual meeting to reestablish boarders to account for worlds/realms drifting around. If anyone wants context behind the specific scenario I had in mind drawing this, please let me know, but the point of this was just having fun drawing other people’s ghost kings:

Seen here from left to right is @wanologic’s College AU, @pineconewithapencil’s design from This post, and @jackalspine’s crown cage situation :3

Note that I got permission from Pinecone to absolutely wing it on what the rest of this design might look like, seeing as they don’t have a full design to reference from. Pine’s final design may be entirely different than what’s shown here, but I’d say I’m good at working off of vibes like this.

I haven’t done much style imitation before, and honestly this was fun! I learned some things and got a new trick for drawing ice and gem-like things! Trying to figure out how things are made is fun and interesting, but most of the difference here comes down to coloring styles as my own habits bled through the line art process a lot.

[ghostofmarvel]

voidwalker / sentryagent with trans!Bob Reynolds HC

i swear im going to finish my trans!Bob Reynolds headcannons but i just HAD to write this one headcanon a bit better.

so in this case bob and john are definitely mutually interested in one another. like they’re mutually pining and yearning but too afraid to actually do something about it besides make a lot of small contacts with one another, like having their knees touch when sitting down at meetings. or their whole sides pressed together as they squeeze onto the couch to make room for others. or how their shoulders touch when they stand next to each other, making their morning cups of coffee and tea.

until one day bob’s T medication is switched from injection to gel, which is awesome for him. it makes it a lot easier for him to self-administer his medication without feelings of ~bad~ coming back up. but it does mean he cannot make contact with others after applying his T gel on his shoulder until it fully dries to prevent giving the dosage to someone else.

which means no shoulders touching John’s in the morning during morning cup of coffee and tea.

and this just absolutely breaks John’s heart because he goes to bed thinking about how sleepy bob is in his own bed (even though john would love to have him in his bed). and he gets out of bed thinking about how sleepy bob will be leaning against his shoulder as they wait for the water to boil.

so when john walks into the kitchen, eyes bright and shoulder already tingling to feel bob’s body heat against it, john frowns noticing bob leaning against the corner of the kitchen counter instead of his usual spot standing in the middle of the counter waiting for john to take his spot next to him. bob looked extra tired this morning though as he looked like he was sleeping as he waited for the water.

the next morning john is happy to see bob standing in his usual spot. john grabs his mug and aims to brush his shoulder, but once bob heard the sound of his footsteps he steps away to give john more space, avoiding contact.

john starts to think bob is intentionally trying to avoid him now, so john starts panicking a bit in his brain.

he lasts about 4 days in this overthinking panic state of trying to fix what he thinks could be wrong before just straight up asking bob one morning “did i do something?”

bob looks at him confused, as if non-verbally communicating a bunch of question marks. “what do you mean?”

john sighs “i… i feel like you’re trying to stay away from me.”

bob looks at him confused and john frowns taking a step closer to him, his hand raised to grab bob’s shoulder and trail down his arm to his hand, but bob steps out the way before john can make contact and john’s heart breaks just a little bit

“see? it’s like you don’t want me to…. touch you… anymore.”

bob ignores the other thoughts of john touching him and focuses on his obvious face of hurt.

“oh… oh! oh god john no i don’t hate you i just- i switched medications. i’m on gel now… for my testosterone. i basically absorb the medicine in through my skin now instead of having to inject it, but others can absorb it too if they touch it when it’s still wet so i can’t touch anyone for like 30 minutes in the morning when i put it on. sometimes it takes longer though i don’t know, i’m still getting used to it.”

“oh…” john can feel his face heating up, now feeling embarrassed that he practically admitted to bob how he missed their little touches.

“wait… john did you switch seats with yelena because you thought i didn’t want to… touch you anymore?”

john’s face turns redder as he looks away to the water beginning to simmer in the electric kettle “well i just, no, i just thought you didn’t want to be near me… anymore.”

bob’s heart aches at john’s faltering voice. his hand reaches to john’s shoulder and gives him a little squeeze before rubbing it down his arm to his hand where their fingers touch but don’t interlace. “i don’t know if that’s possible for me john… i like… being next to you. a lot. you smell nice…” bob murmurs the last part as he stares down at their fidgeting fingers circling around each other to rest on top of the others.

john’s heart flutters as he takes a step forward to stand in front of bob “okay… i’ll ask yelena to switch with me again.”

bob nods his head as he looks up from their hands “and i can start applying it to my other shoulder… i could use my shoulder rest”

john gives a light scoff at that “don’t you mean head rest? you’re practically asleep in here every morning.”

bob smiles big as he lets their hands fall as he steps in to rest his chin in his shoulder before turning his chin down, placing a brief kiss on his shoulder before resting his forehead in john “hm. yeah, you’re a pretty good head rest.”

john tries to ignores the way his heart stopped and then restarted with hundreds of beats per minute when bob kissed his shoulder. though his shirt sleeve covered the sensation of his lips, he still felt the pressure and heard the noise of lips kissing that filled him with joy and excitement. john resists the urge he had to place a kiss on bob’s head and instead chooses to rest his head against bob’s curly hair.

‘okay… not as bad as i thought’ he thinks to himself as bob snakes an arm around his waist.

bonus: bob starts wearing sleeveless shirts in the morning so it’s easier to apply his T gel without worrying about sleeves sticking to it.

john REALLY likes this change in the morning. better morning view he thinks.

[erephene]

— , , 'Summer's Dying Light.'

⤑ Haymitch Abernathy x Fem!Reader. (Drabble)

WC : 1.2k.

Summary : Two days before the 50th Hunger Games, Haymitch Abernathy sits with you in the summer light, the world already mourning him before his name is even drawn. Beneath the sarcasm and stubbornness, he’s scared — and so are you. But fear isn’t the end of the story. Not if you have anything to say about it.

Warnings : Reader takes the place of Lenore Dove in this drabble, some SOTR spoilers, a bit of angst, fluff. Please let me know if I've missed anything else! <3

AO3 LINK HERE!

~

The reaping is two days away.

District 12 is already mourning like it's lost something.

The square is being swept and painted, banners hung like a child’s cruel joke. You hate the silence more than the noise — that suffocating hush that’s fallen over the Seam and swallowed everything golden about summer. Kids aren’t in the streets. Doors are locked earlier than usual. Mothers are keeping their children close, as if any of it matters.

And you—

You’re pretending not to stare at Haymitch Abernathy like you already know he’s going to be taken.

He’s sitting by the fence with his back to it, arms slung lazily over his knees like he doesn’t feel the noose tightening. His blond hair glows in the low light, and a blade of grass dangles from his lips. Smug. Careless. He looks like a boy playing at war.

But you know better.

You walk up without a word, sit next to him, and fold your legs underneath you. The hum of the fence is off, which means it’s safe. Safe to sit here, to pretend. The woods are doused in gold. Crickets sing.

“Sun looks good on you,” he says without looking at you.

“You always say that when you want me to forgive you for something.”

He grins. “Do I need forgiving?”

You pick at a blade of grass, rolling it between your calloused fingertips — hardened over the years by plucking or strumming various string instruments. “Only if you’re planning on leaving.”

He’s quiet for a long time. Almost too long.

You know the odds. Everyone does. There’ll be four tributes per district this year — double the death, double the pain. Haymitch is seventeen. He’s strong. Clever. Already a favorite with the girls and a thorn in the Peacekeepers’ side. That makes him a target. Or maybe just… visible. And visibility kills.

He finally speaks. “I was thinkin’," he says slowly. "If it is me, I don't want you comin' to the train."

You bristle. “That’s not your call.”

“It is if I don’t want to see you cry.”

“You don’t want to see me cry?” Your voice comes out smaller than you’d like. “Too late.”

His head turns then, and he sees it — the sheen in your eyes, the way your jaw clenches like you’re holding back a scream. His smugness drops away like a curtain. There’s just Haymitch now. Raw, real.

“You shouldn’t care this much about me,” he mutters, thumb brushing your knuckle. “I’m nothin’ but trouble.”

“I know,” you say. “That’s why I care.”

He lets out a shaky breath that’s not quite a laugh. “What happens if I go in?”

“If you come back, I’ll marry you.”

He blinks.

“You win,” you say, voice strong now, “and I’ll make you pancakes every Sunday for the rest of your life. I’ll braid your hair when you’re sick. I’ll kiss your scars, all of them. Even the ones I can’t see.”

“That’s an awful lot to promise someone who might not come back.”

You swallow. “Then you better come back.”

Haymitch leans in, rests his forehead against yours. He’s warm. Smells like pine and sweat and something boyish, wild, unruined.

He kisses you, slow and aching. It’s the kind of kiss you give when you’re trying to memorize someone. He tastes like defiance and fear and the end of something good.

When he pulls away, his eyes are glassy.

You’ve never seen him like this — not in the dim corners of the Hob, not under the stars in the meadow, not even on the nights he showed you how sharp his loneliness could be. He blinks once, slowly, like it hurts to come back to the world after kissing you.

“I don’t know how to keep you safe from this,” he says, voice cracked at the edges. “I’ve been running my mouth my whole life, but I don’t have the words for this.”

“You don’t have to protect me from it,” you murmur. “Just let me stay with you in it.”

His jaw twitches. He looks away, toward the fence, toward the woods he’s always talked about escaping to. His throat works around something unspoken, and you see the moment the weight settles — not fear for himself, but for you. For what you’ll carry if he’s gone.

“You’ll remember me?” he says quietly. “Even if they turn me into a monster?”

You don’t hesitate. “I’ll remember who you are. Even if they cut you to pieces and sew you back all wrong — I’ll still know the boy who steals bread just to share it. The one who learned my laugh before my last name.”

His face twists like he wants to believe you but doesn’t know how.

So you cup his cheek, thumb brushing the freckled skin beneath his eye. “Haymitch,” you say, soft and certain, “you’ll come back. And if you don’t, I’ll carry the part of you they couldn’t touch.”

For a moment, he just breathes. Then he leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours again — not with fire this time, but with something quieter. Grieving. Reverent.

“Don’t let them kill the part of you that loves,” he whispers. “Even if they kill me.”

“They won’t,” you promise. “They’re not that powerful.”

He watches you for a long, still moment. Like he’s memorizing you — not your face, but the shape of your defiance. The way you say “they” like they’re something you could one day bury.

Then his lips twitch, just barely. “You always talk like you’ve got a weapon in your chest.”

You nod. “I do. It’s you.”

Haymitch’s smile falters. His breath catches in a way that’s not quite a gasp, not quite a sob. He sits back, elbows on his knees, and stares down at his hands like they’re holding ghosts. Maybe they are.

“You’re too good,” he says bitterly. “Too good to be stuck here. With me. With this whole cursed district.”

“I don’t want good,” you say. “I want real. And I’ve never known anything more real than you.”

He swallows hard. The wind rustles through the grass, the only sound between you for a long, aching stretch. Then, quietly:

“I’m scared.”

It breaks something in you. Not because he said it, but because he’s never said it before. Because he’s always worn his fear like armor — twisted into sarcasm, thrown as barbed wire — and now it’s just here, bare in his lap like something wounded.

You slide closer, curling your fingers into his.

“I’m scared too,” you admit. “But fear’s not the end of the story.”

He shakes his head. “No. It’s just the part where everything starts to fall apart.”

You press his knuckles to your lips, kissing the scraped skin gently. “Then let it fall. And we’ll build something after.”

His brow furrows. “What if there’s no after?”

“There is.” You say it like a vow. “Even if it’s just me, keeping the pieces of you alive. There will be something.”

He closes his eyes.

You think he’s going to cry, but he doesn’t. He just nods, once. Tight. Like that’s all he can manage. And then, in a voice so quiet it barely touches the air:

“Don’t forget me.”

“I couldn’t if I tried.”

Haymitch lets out a breath — broken, grateful, stunned.

Then he leans forward again, resting his forehead against yours like it’s the only place he knows how to find peace.

And in that moment, before the world reaps him, before blood and cameras and Capitol lies, there’s just the two of you. Breathing. Trembling. Alive.

[sneezee27]

Cold Hands

I'm rewatching Stranger Things and my crush on Eddie quickly came back :) Also first fic soo sorry for any mistakes.

Hellfire ran late again as it always does, usually the schools parking lot is empty. Which actually a good thing because it guarantees that practice is over for all the jocks and there are no stragglers roaming the halls or the parking lot. The only downside is that he can't see you after your cheer practice is over but he'd rather not have all of Hellfire know about how hard he is pining for you. Eddie roams the empty halls toward the back since he usually parks behind the school as its closets to the woods, where his usual business route is. So imagine his surprise when he sees a familar white BMW still parked, not because the owner and Eddie are friends -god no- instead he recognizes the car because you are always in the passenger seat. He wished and dreamed that it was his run-down van that you were the passenger of. Eddie thinks about it so much he already has a plan of what he would do if you ended up sitting beside him while he drives. He would park closer to the school so you wouldn't have to walk far from your cheer practice. He would have a blanket on your seat so you wouldn't have to see all the stains or the loose crumbs that never leave no matter how much Eddie cleans. He would make sure that Hellfire would end on time so you wouldn't have to wait because he wouldn't be able to focus being the DM if you were in the room or worse have you wait in the cold especially since you shower after practice. He realizes that makes him sound like a perv for knowing that but he only knows because the very rare time d&d finished on time, he saw you coming out of the girl's locker room with your hair still wet. Back to his dream, he would take you back to his trailer where you two listen to music while you lay in his bed and talk about anything and everything. When it was time for bed you would change into his clothes and since its winter sometimes the trailer heater isn't strong enough so he'll pile all his blankets on you, climb under, then hold you till the next morning. Depending on the type of day he had this dream stays sweet and pure but sometimes his dream ends up being sexual where no one gets a good nights sleep. Just depends on whether or not he sees you in that tight uniform. But since you two are on opposite sides of the social ladder that thought was likely to stay in his dreams forever. Although there is nothing that says he can wish because everytime he gets in his van, its all he can imagine but there is no one besides his empty cups and his work "briefcase" as he likes to call it since that metal lunchbox stocked with drugs does help keep the lights on.

He looks up to see whether or not your are sitting next to that stupid jockstrap of a boyfriend you have. And no surprise you are but you clearly don't look happy. In fact, he has never see you look so annoyed before. You and your boyfriend are clearly arguing and you are so fed up that you get out of the car, slamming the door as you both continue to argue through the rolling down window.

"I said I don't how sorry you are! I told you no!"

"It was one time! An accident and it won't happen again! Just get back in the car, we are not done talking because you clearly don't understand what i'm saying."

"Do you think I am an idiot!? How many times do I have to tell you that i'm done!"

"Fine!" he said as he peel out of the parking lot.

You just sighed and turned back towards the school where you will probably have to find a phone to call for a ride but thats when you see Eddie just standing there by his van.

"Oh! Um hey." you awkwardly smiled and waved.

"Yeah, hey."

"So how much did you see?"

"Not that much." you had a questioning look one your face "okay, well up to the part where you slammed the door and till that jerk drove off" Eddie just scratched his cheek while you laughed.

"Well, thanks for not lying." Eddie watched you pause and hesitate on your next sentence. "You wouldn't happen to be able to give me a ride home." Eddie's heart was pounding because this was exactly what his was dreaming of when he should of been focusing on whatevers going on in english class.

"Sure, um just give me a second." He opened the van door and quicky slammed it. "Actually no! Can you turn around."

"Sure, but just so you know I don't mind." you said, smiling at him before you turned around. Eddie quickly grabbed the trash and threw it in the back seat and threw his leather jacket to cover his seat. He didn't care how cold it was, he wasn't going to let you get crumbs stuck to the back of your legs even if you are wearing jeans now.

"m'lady." he cleared his throat and did a small bow while he held the door open for you.

"Thank you" you climbed in, Eddie closed the door for you and you watched him awkwardly run to the drivers side. You find it so weird that only a few minutes with Eddie is already making you feel a lot less shitty than you did before. You look down to see his signature leather jacket under you legs and you watch Eddie rub his hands against each other in front of the vents once he gets into the van. You make a mental note that Eddie is much more of a gentleman than your ex. He's been taking bettter care of you in this short moment than your ex did during your whole relationship so you decide to grab Eddie's hands and cover his with yours. "Ah they're like ice!"

"You know you didn't have put your jacket on the seat. I told you I don't care." Eddie's stomach flutter when he noticed how big of the contrast was in your tone was in comparison to when you were talking, well yelling at your boyfriend-who he hoped was now your ex. "The winter here is too harsh for you not to wear a jacket, even it its for a few seconds."

"I could have but I didn't want you to see how the maids always miss this spot." he jokingly rolled his eyes.

"Oh." you smiled. "Is this any better?" you ask while squeezing his hands.

"It's perfect." Eddie notices how your body is turned towards him and he looks up to see how close your faces are. You look up and realize how pretty Eddies dark brown eyes are, actually you knew how pretty but you've never been this close to him before. You are starting to forget why you were feeling so angry earlier.

Eddie thought that this was a once and a lifetime opportunity so he was going to make the most of it. He noticed how your eye contact didn't wavier from his -when the usual treatment is dirty looks because the freak is staring- and how tightly you were holding his hands as a good sign. You didn't say anything and you never looked away or let his hands go. So as his heart was pounding out of his chest, as much as he would hate to let your hands go, he moved them out of yours. One hand went to the bottom of the your coat, fiddleing with the zipper while other rested on your knee.

"You know you in the van of the local freak. Shouldn't you be running away?"

"I think you're more of a nerd than a freak."

"A nerd? What makes you say that?" the distance between each other never changing.

"Playing D&D, alone makes you a nerd but also the fact that you know a lot of facts about the stuff you care about like metal music. Thats nearly textbook for a nerd well I guess a uncover nerd"

"And just how do you know that?"

"You're not very quiet at lunch and..." he feels you grabbing on to his hand that was fiddling with your zipper. "I might of had a crush on you since we had math together."

"Are you messing with me?"

"No."

If Eddie was thinking straight he wouldn't have just blindly believed you but that was all the conformation he needed. So he finally grabbed your chin and softly pushed his against yours. You smile into the kiss and grabbed his face because he was kissing you as if you'd break. Eddie moved his other arm off your knee to bring them to your face but it awkward fumbling made him hit his elbow on the horn which makes you both jump away from each other. At least you two are still in the empty parking lot so no but you two noticed.

"Of fuckin course." you laugh and he just sighs then starts laughing too.

"So Eddie, are you coming home with me?"

[guillotinesandroses]

Artistic Expression; Vil Schoenheit + Genderfluid Reader

He has always valued fairness above all else, in every sense of the word. You have always been a little more of a rough-and-tumble kind of person. Perhaps it is true, all that they say about opposites attracting. In spite of all your differences and occasional arguments, you find yourselves back by each other's side before long. Together you are completed, simple as that. 

His brows furrow as he scoffs, adjusting your uniform once again. You roll your eyes as his hands work near your chest. To anyone else, the pining glances and softness between your glares would have been obvious. Even so, you continue the same way as always. He comments on your rough appearance, a disapproving frown on his face. 

A harsh retort falls from your lips, calling him out on barely being alive. Over time, these jabs have grown crueler and crueler. Still you stumble back together, whether by fate or loneliness. Now as you stand in the rain, a particularly bad fight from yesterday lingering in your mind, you wonder why you bothered to go to NRC to begin with. It is a prestigious school, but since your friendship with Vil is already so strained, you cannot help from wondering whether it was such a good idea after all. Being stuck on the past lights a flare of irritation within you; forgetting should be easier. 

A choked sob snaps you out of your thoughts. You blink, having thought you were alone. Much to your shock, you find Vil sitting in the mud with dirtied clothes.  

"What are you doing here?" 

"None of your concern, potato." He wipes his eyes, but it is not as if you could have discerned tears from the raindrops anyway. His makeup remains smeared nonetheless. "I was meant to search for potion ingredients before the rainstorm, then I fell. Not as if you could understand why I'm in such disarray." 

"I guess that's true." For a while you stand in silence as he collects himself. Wondering how you could distract him from this, you smirk. "Hey, I got an idea. How about we have a good old mud-fight, like we used to?" 

His nose scrunches in repulsion. "Have you lost your mind?! There's no world in which I'd partake in such nonsense!" 

"Your makeup and clothes are already ruined, aren't they?" You chuckle, offering your hand to him. "C'mon, be alive with me for today, won't you?" 

He stands muddied in the pouring rain. His purple, painted lips hang open in utter bewilderment. No words fall out as he gapes like a fish out of water before he finally sighs. Expensive robes shift as his shoulders relax. Your brows raise in surprise and excitement as his manicured hand reached toward yours. 

You pull him in, then immediately slather mud over his cheek. He seethes as you dart backwards with a cheeky grin. Thus begins a familiar back and forth of hiding and striking. Eventually, he gets the better of you and puts a stop to the game. Vil pins you to the dirt, gold and violet, wet locks of hair framing your face.

Your breath catches in your throat, he looks like a masterpiece as usual. Face heating up, you avert your gaze. He picks up on your mental absence. "What is it, potato? Had your fun already?" 

His breathing is the one to pause as you brush a strand of his muddied blonde hair out of his face. Absolutely enamored by his presence, you realize you have not looked at him like this in a while. "You really do work yourself to the bone. I've been... worried. As of late it seems like it's gotten a lot worse." 

"I don't want you to lose yourself because you feel like you aren't doing enough. I know the standards you hold yourself to. Though I... admire it, I can tell you're tired, mentally." 

"Your worrying may be sweet, though it is unnecessary. I can take care of myself, thank you very much." 

"I know. I just... miss this. I miss moments where everything didn't need to be picture perfect." 

He falls silent for a while. You get up when he indicates he is going to stand. About to turn away, you are suddenly tugged back. 

"I'm not letting you slip away this time." He grabs your wrist with a so firm it surprises the both of you, acrylics unintentionally digging into the skin. He offers no apology aside from an ashamed look cast to the side before locking eyes with yours again. "I entertained your immature desires for once. You will partake in what I wish to do now." 

You sigh, but agree to his demand. For the most part the both of you remain awkwardly silent as he washes your hair and cleans your face. The bath was relaxing, but your eyes avoid each mirror. You enjoy being around him, but cannot stand seeing yourself next to him. Only when he sits you down to remove your face mask does he talk again. 

"It isn't only due to keeping up appearances that I enjoy taking care of my own. I find it enjoyable and relaxing." 

"Each to their own," you mutter.

"Perhaps in terms of makeup, but it shouldn't be with self-care." 

"What do you mean? I do take care of myself." 

"Barely." He scoffs. "You always assume no one could see you as beautiful. That's why you let yourself rot, and you refuse any help. It's infuriating to watch such potential go to waste, you foolish thing." 

"Compared to you, what am I?" You huff. He pauses as you continue. 

"You're an actor, a model, a celebrity. You have been long before we reached adulthood. All these years I've watched you become more and more."

Taking in a breath, your chest weighs heavy as your frown deepens. "I know I should be happy... inspired, but nothing I try ever works or sticks. I can't become anything... so at least I can be happy and take it easy." 

"That sort of perspective is precisely why you stay stuck in place." He grabs you by the chin, squishing your cheeks. "You claim to be happy? Oh please, you may be free but 'happy' is not a word I would describe you with." 

You blink before he forces you to face the mirror you have avoided. "Look at yourself. All I did was clean out your hair and moisturize your face." 

You barely recognize yourself, reflection glowing with beauty. Eventually you chuckle, which turns into a short laugh, "...we should have had this conversation a while ago." 

"I must agree. Though I take it this means we understand one another better now?" 

"It does. Thank you for inviting me. I'm sorry for yesterday... and everything before that." 

"Likewise. I will be more considerate of your feelings in the future as well." 

"Pinky promise?" You hold out your finger with a goofy grin. 

He sighs, but the exasperated smile reveals his true thoughts. He connects your fingers, speaking in a soft tone. "Pinky promise." 

[klaissance]

ok um i have done it i've created a thing

pls enjoy

[paintedcrows]

Preparing for your first holiday season with your griblings is hard. Especially when your grand niece insists on celebrating Every. Single. Holiday.

[blae-kitta]

Sketch page! Margaritabille au by @kerink with Bill making a caesar, Ford in the outfit I'm living in rn, a joke post I've already posted of where Ford loses a bet, and an interaction that been lodged in my frontal lobe for ages and was gonna make a proper comic for and then didn't

[imaredshirt]

Post Weirdmageddon, Stanley continues to recover his memories. It's a gradual process, one that he sometimes gets frustrated with, but he's surrounded with a support system of friends and family that are more than happy to help.

Every so often, Stanford checks in with Fiddleford, who's a few steps ahead of Stanley in the memory recovery process and is an invaluable resource of knowledge and helpful tips. The fact that he invented the memory gun also helps, of course, and although he won't ever rebuild the thing, he has been studying the old one and just how it affects the mind.

During these calls between old friends/colleagues, Fiddleford will casually ask after Stanley's progress and general wellbeing, and Stanford will relay a summary of Stanley's most recent recovered memories.

One day over the phone, Fiddleford says, "So we know Stanley's recovered much of his childhood memories, some of his early twenties, and he's able to recall quite a bit of the past several years. Has he, ah, mentioned anything 'bout his time in the '80s? When he first started runnin the Mystery Shack and workin on the portal?"

"Not that I know of," Stanford answers. "I'll ask the kids. If he's mentioned anything to them, then Dipper's already added it to his notes." He frowns. "Should we be worried that he hasn't recalled anything from that period in his life, yet?"

"No, no," Fiddleford says. "At least, I don't think so. This all seems to be a sort of non-linear recovery process. Sorta like a stack o' cards that's fallen on the floor all mixed up and on top of each other, and he's pickin up the ones on the top layer, completely outta order. For all we know, this could be the card he picks up last." He pauses and clears his throat. "But if he does start mentioning anythin from that time - anythin at all from events to sensory memories or, uh, people - you be sure to let me know. I'd like to add it to my notes."

He sounds almost too casual. Stanford doesn't want to doubt his friend after all this time, but he vividly remembers what Fiddleford sounds like when he's trying to be sneaky, and he sounds like it right now. So much as he doesn't want to be, Stanford's suspicious.

He's just not quite sure what to be suspicious of.

He files the suspicion away for later. "You got it, old buddy."

"Well alrighty then! I'll call again tomorrow to check on today's progress. And why don't you order him an egg and sausage omelet from Greasy's? The one with all that cheese on top - but no mushrooms. He hates those. His favorite foods might jog his memories a bit."

Stanford blinks. "We were actually thinking of doing that. But how do you -?"

Fiddleford hangs up.

Stanford's still blinking at the phone, frowning, when Stanley walks up behind him.

"Hey, who was that?" Stanley asks. "Why do you look like someone just gave you a math problem you can't solve?"

"There are very few of those left in the universe," Stanford says, only half joking, and smiles when Stanley rolls his eyes, chuckling.

"Yeah, yeah, my brother the genius - whatever. Look, since you're on the phone already, why dontcha call up Fidds and tell him to pick up some pizza. If the kids are hungry, then you know I'm starving."

"Alright, but no broccoli pizza this time, I --" Stanford freezes. "Wait. Fidds?"

"Yeah, he's not in the shack or out back, so he's gotta be out in town, right?"

There's only one person that "Fidds" can be, but Stanford hasn't heard anyone use Fiddleford's nickname since college. He raises an eyebrow at Stanley, who's relaxing back in his recliner.

"Fidds, Stanley?"

"Yeah," Stanley says, raising an eyebrow back at his brother. "You know, your nerdy buddy? Scrawny guy with an accent? Helped me out with the portal right after you got stuck in it--"

"What?" Stanford's never heard about this. From either of them.

Stanley goes on, "Can't fight off a gnome to save his life but builds a giant crazy gnome robot anyway - whaat? Why're you looking at me like that?" Stanley sits up and his confusion becomes anger, almost startling Stanford out of his shocked state. "What, now that I'm getting all these memories back, you're uncomfortable?"

Stanford has no idea what he's talking about. "What? Uncomfortable with what?"

"With your college buddy shacking up with your twin brother," Stanley snaps. "We've been together for years. Maybe you should get over it, huh?"

"Get over it?" Stanford's reeling. Fiddleford's strangeness suddenly makes sense. "Stanley, I would never - I would accept you however you - I'm not straight, either, you know, and - wait." He holds up one hand and pinches the bridge of his nose with the other. "Before we even get into that - WHAT?"

Stanley blinks. "What??"

"You - you and - when did you-" Stanford throws his hands in the air. "He doesn't live here!"

"What?" Stanley snorts. "Yeah he does. I told him to move in."

"When?"

"Back in the '80s," Stanley says. "I just started remembering this morning. Where's be been, anyway? Why hasn't he been doing nerdy shit with you in the lab lately?"

Stanford's leaning against the sofa's armrest, mind racing. He answers distractedly, "We haven't been in the lab together since before you came to Gravity Falls, Stanley."

"Bull. You expect me to believe you two aren't cooking up some science project already?"

"Stanley..."

"What," Stanley says. Then he grins. "Are you the one with messed up memories now or what? Jeez, I got a better memory than my genius brother - and I've been hit with the memory gun twice!"

"Twice?" Stanford turns a sharp look on his brother. "What do you mean, twice?"

"Yeah. That one time when you used it on me, and then back in the '90s when Fidds . . ."

Stanley trails off. He blinks and then frowns, gaze falling to the floor as he mutters, "Back when Fidds . . . when he used it on me the first time, and. . ."

Realization dawns on them both at once, and Stanley looks at Stanford with an odd mix of emotions.

"Stanley," Stanford says in an effort to calm him. "What exactly do you remember of-"

"Who cares!" Stanley jumps to his feet, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "He used that thing on me! When I told him not to - when I asked - begged -" Stanley punches the wall and glares at the splinters littering his knuckles. His voice is shaking. "After everything we went through - he just took off 'cause he was, what, scared? Do you have any idea how much I've forgotten? Who knows if I'm gonna remember any of it? I didn't want him to leave! And after he did and used the gun, I - I was so broken and angry I didn't know why, couldn't remember why--"

With a growl, Stanley grabs the car keys from the little bowl by the TV and stomps towards the front door. "Get in the car. I've got a bone to pick with your old college buddy."

Stanford grabs his journal and hurries after his brother, calling for the kids as they head to the car. They're all likely going to be at Fiddleford's new mansion for some time.

He certainly has a bit of explaining to do.

[scribeofmorpheus]

new wheel of time trailer dropped AND WHERE IS MY GIRL NYNAEVE?! Where is Lan Mandragorian's "wisdom"?! [she was in one frame. one!] *chews glass*

but also the mythal/solas/lavellan parallels in moiraine/lan/nynaeve are actually crazy--like i didn't think about it till now, but of course i'd find inklings of robert jordan's influence in my favourite fantasy game series too

[past-hale-powiyewe]

Holy shit the last post sucked the ever living life outta me so all y'all are gonna get for the next few weeks are badly colored drawings LOL

[mildmayfoxe]

the fun thing about playing make-believe with your friends is that sometimes instead of playing your regular dnd session you instead end up playing a convoluted speed dating game in-universe where you all get so excited about the npcs you’ve made specifically for this purpose and the dates you’re going on in the game in the game that you make plans to play two times in the same week instead of the regular once or twice a month you usually manage

[focsle]

If I was wealthy I would sweep marine auctions, man….