#2 MORE DADS

[dbphantom]

What it's like reading ur old writing and getting to a particularly awful or self-indulgent part

[pppondi]

They're trying.

BONUS

[inkskinned]

the problem is that being single is seen as the consolidation prize, and not the natural neutral state of being-a-person. at the end of the movie or the book or the poetry, there is a person waiting for you at the altar, and they love you. if the play is a comedy, everyone gets married. the metaphor is about how you are not-whole. the metaphor is about how everyone is going to be happily-ever-after. the metaphor is that romantic love is the most important resource on the planet, not just all-love. all-love is not a thing, that is a disappointment. the treasure is not the friends we made along the way. the treasure is the girl you landed.

the metaphor is that you cannot be alone, that means you are broken. are you getting over someone? that is acceptable, you can be getting over someone, but not for long. you must be single because you would rather not be single. you must be single and looking to not-be-single. you must want to date, eventually.

friendship and community are never seen as being equal-to or even-better than romantic connection. that person is your one! you need to find them. you need to hunt through the sand particles until you can shift out some kind of gem. this is regardless to your own experience of the beach and the sun. you need to be somewhere with someone.

if you are taking this time alone to heal, that is so sad. everyone gives you this little pitying look. the understanding is that you are not actually happier than you were before you were single. it is seen as a sort of pity - oh, you are choosing yourself, making yourself the priority? - that isn't quite right. you must mean that you are making yourself ready for the right person. you are just laying the bed better this time. open up your heart. you'll find them, we promise!

what do you mean you're really-truly genuinely-very happy? you are probably misremembering what it was like to be in a relationship. and besides, once you meet your person, that time will look grey and bland and wasted. your person is the only way for you to see in color. so what if you have taken this time - for the first time in your entire life - to actually-for-real do the fucking work. you can be proud of yourself, sure. but the way we need to know that you got better is that you get a partner. you're healed enough for the next bad part!

people don't choose to be single, they just say they're choosing to be single - they actually mean "nobody wants to date me." it doesn't matter how many people you have gently rejected or how many times you've talked it over carefully in therapy. what matters is that you are single, and by all accounts - that means you are something worth our pity. your successes and life all seem pale in the sunlight. sure, you have done amazing things and finally found your way in life. what matters is that there wasn't a person in the room with you while you did it.

you want to tell them - that's the whole thing. i didn't know how to be alone in the room. i didn't know how to handle the silence. every moment was so sharp, and i kept choosing the wrong way to close the door. i have spent my entire life in the empty well, living in the ricochet of someone else's cruelty. for once i have built myself a ladder. for once everything i taste is all mine, every bite of sunshine and laughter. i have learned how to sleep out in the open with my memories. recently, they have started to purr.

your father rolls his eyes. listen. this isn't about you. i just want a grandchild in my future.

[time-woods]

is projecting on a projection too far . . aka the rot is gettin bad yall . .

[brucewaynehater101]

I'm bad at math, but is Bruce theoretically 38 years old when he goes into the time stream?

Hear me out (and canon likes to fluncate their ages, so this is my best guess without trying to account for birthdays):

Bruce becomes the legal guardian of 9 year old Dick when he's 23. That's a 14 year difference.

Jason becomes Robin when Dick leaves at 18. Jason is 13. That's a five year difference.

Jason dies at 15, and Tim becomes Robin at 13. That's a two year difference.

The age difference between Tim and Bruce would thus be 21 years.

Tim becomes Red Robin to find Bruce at 17.

That means that Bruce had to be 38, right? Why was I imagining him closer to 50?

Adopting so many kids must have aged him

[parisoonic]

every nice night at the pub ends in paperwork for Miss Pauling

[mugentakeda]

not even harvards top scientists could understand the complexities of the azula-iroh beef lore that i made up in my head

(silly bonus under the cut)

[stevenrogered]

now that the hunger games is popular again with the new movie out, ive realized there are a whole crop of fans who don't know/forgot these incredible fan made videos exist. they were huge in the fandom at the time for how good they were

haymitch's games:

the story of finnick and annie:

[dykevanny]

from every voice, the same question rings:

[hajihiko]

Family Business

[waterberry-strawmelon]

Henry Oak saying “I’m a polyamorous white guy, of course I know Dungeons and Dragons” proves yet again that Will Campos is the funniest person on this fucking podcast

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

[afewproblems]

Season Two Halloween AU Part Eight

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six Part Seven

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

As always, thank you thank you to the lovely Jess @strangersteddierthings for letting me brainstorm and send spoilers!

***

Eddie pulls gently on the strap of Dustin's safety goggles, trying as much as he can not to snag his curls in the process.

Almost everyone is decked out in their make-shift protective gear, with bandanas over their mouths, swim goggles --hell, even an old diving mask that Lucas found in the Byers basement. Mike won the painters mask, even though it's slightly too big on his little face.

When Eddie asks if all of this is really necessary, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike all glare ferociously at him before shouting over top of one another about how the Upside Down is toxic and that Will had been lucky last year, and to stop being an idiot. 

Eddie looks to Max who shrugs and pulls down her own swimming goggles over her eyes.

"Don't look at me, I'm new here remember?" She mutters, walking towards the pile of various items the kids brought with them. She grabs a pair of rubber gloves and tosses them at Eddie who manages to catch one while the other falls limply into the dirt.

"They went in full body suits last year, on oxygen, to save Will," Dustin adds, his voice slightly muffled by the floral scarf wrapped around his face, "as little exposed skin as you can, it isn't safe".

Eddie can't help but picture the last Sci-Fi pulp story he read in a zine with government conspiracies and men in yellow suits investigating supposed 'crash sites' in the desert. 

He shivers and pulls his own black bandana from his back pocket to put on.

Steve hasn't moved since they parked and hauled everything out of the van for their descent.

He sits in the sliding side door of the van with his head between his knees and the bat between his hands. Steve had insisted on coming with them, despite the fact that he'd only just managed to stop vomiting about five minutes ago and the nausea is still kicking his ass.

Stubborn idiot.

Eddie shakes his head as he turns back to Dustin to find the kid has wandered closer, standing right beside him now.

"He's dating Nancy," Dustin says quietly, tipping his head towards Steve as surreptitiously as he can.

Eddie freezes at the words and tries to keep his face blank in the way he's seen Steve do, he's not sure he's managed it but the way Dustin rolls his eyes. 

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, with what he isn't sure of given the chorus of shitshitshitshitshit playing on a loop in his head. 

Dustin beats him to it.

"But Mike told me they've been fighting lately, if it helps?" 

Eddie just stares, his mind running a mile a minute, his eyes search Dustin's face for any hint of malice or disgust. But there's nothing.

"You don't…care?" Eddie says slowly, softly, he looks around to the other kids to see if anyone else is listening.

They all continue to argue and bicker over the equipment  except for Max who has walked over to Steve to hand him a pair of rubber gloves. She leans down and tilts her head to look at Steve who still hasn't moved from his position in the van door. 

Dustin shrugs, "why should I? I know what people say about it, but you protected us, you stayed," he looks at Eddie with fierce blue eyes, "bullies talk a lot of shit about other people for what they like".

"And you're not bad Eddie, you're good, just like everyone here". 

Eddie blinks trying to ignore the tightness in his chest at the words and the sting behind his eyes. 

'You're a good kid Ed, that's all that matters,' Wayne had told him the day he came out. 'And I'll love you no matter what'.

So that was at least two people who didn't think he was the town 'freak' -- but a stubborn image of Steve's expression that night by the pool comes to mind as he vehemently argued against being scared of Eddie during the now infamous Halloween party.

Three people then.

"If it helps, he wouldn't shut up about Dallas after he and Nance watched the Outsiders last year so," Dustin shrugs again, this time with the slightest teasing grin. 

Eddie is overcome with such a strong feeling of fondness for the kid that he reaches out and pulls Dustin into a one armed hug that's really more of a headlock than anything else. Eddie takes off Dustin's hat to ruffle his hair before putting it back on and tugging it down over the kids eyes, he snorts at the squawk that Dustin makes in response.

"Dallas huh?" he says with a grin before clearing his throat, "I've always been more partial to a pretty boy myself". 

He laughs as Dustin pushes him off muttering under his breath, "everyone's obsessed with relationships," which only makes Eddie laugh harder. 

Maybe it's the hysteria of the situation, maybe it's the exhaustion loosely wrapping itself around his hands, but in this moment Eddie lets himself push away why they are standing in the middle of this field in the pitch dark, and lets himself reach out for what was previously impossible.

He claps Dustin on the back and tips his head towards the rest of the party getting ready. 

"How distracting can you be?" Eddie asks in a low conspiratorial voice.

Dustin frowns, his eyes dart from where Max is struggling to pull on a second blue rubber glove after getting the first one on to where Steve is finally managing to sit up in the van, pulling on the gloves Max left him with, and rolls his eyes again.

"Yeah, yeah, you get five minutes," Dustin drops his voice slightly, and if it's an imitation of Eddie barking orders at the kids earlier, it's pretty good actually. 

Eddie huffs and sends Dustin a wink before turning on his heel and making his way to the van.

Steve has managed to finally sit up properly and in the moonlight it appears that the green caste to his face is also gone. He looks up as Eddie approaches, and sends him a wane smile. 

"How you feeling?" Eddie says softly. He crouches down on the balls of his feet so he and Steve are at eye level and reaches out for his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. It's as though a dam has burst ever since he was able to gather Steve in his arms in the van, he can't stop reaching out for him. 

"Like my head has a pulse," Steve answers after a moment, "kinda how it felt after Jon cleaned my clock last year, but worse". 

He shrugs and gives Eddie a small smile that stretches his split lip until a small bead of red appears, Steve winces and swipes his hand over the cut, "I'm kinda hoping it doesn't become a yearly thing, you only get so many concussions ya know?" 

No Eddie doesn’t know, but he was also never a jock, dodging elbows, or balls, or apparently monsters in the woods on the regular.

He looks back at the kids, only to see Dustin pointing at the watch on his wrist; even in the dark Eddie can read Dustin's expression.

Hurry up.

Eddie swallows roughly and turns back to Steve, who doesn't move his gaze quickly enough to hide his own stare.

The wistful pinch of Steve's brow is still there, plain as day, and it cements Eddie's decision.

He leans closer, close enough that his nose is nearly touching Steve's own.

"I need to tell you something, and I need you to let me get through it because we don't have a lot of time, okay?" 

Steve blinks once, his wide hazel eyes search Eddie's face as he slowly nods, his mouth opens but Eddie reaches up and presses his palm to gently cover it.

"You caught me off guard before," he whispers quickly, before Steve can move the hand on his mouth, "when you told me about your Nonna". 

He sees Steve's eyes go even wider and feels him freeze under his hand, but he has to keep going. 

"And I thought, you couldn't possibly be saying what I thought you'd were saying, I couldn't--"

Eddie forces himself to meet Steve's gaze this time, as though he could simply transfer his thoughts directly, save himself the embarrassment of trying to make the words come.

He takes a deep breath in, releasing it slowly through his nose.

"I couldn't let myself hope, not then".

"But when I thought you were dead on the floor, that Billy had broken you into a million pieces and we would never be able to put you back together again and I realized," Eddie moves his hand now, letting it travel along Steve's jaw, to the back of his head. He swipes his thumb along the crest of Steve's cheekbone and tries not to let the way the other man holds his breath deter him.

"That I might not get another chance to be that person your Nonna told you about, if I didn't tell you how I felt". 

Steve blinks again and Eddie halts, letting go of Steve completely as he watches the wide hazel eyes grow shiny in the moonlight. 

Oh fuck.

Steve's nose flares slightly with how rapidly he's breathing and his mouth opens and closes in quick succession as he seems to struggle to find the words to respond.

"I--"

"Steve! Eddie!" Mike calls out from behind them, "we are running out of time! Let's go!" 

Eddie curses under his breath and whirls around; Mike stands at the edge of the cavern, his hands on his hips in a similar position to one Steve held earlier, the painter's mask pulled up to reveal the irritated frown on his face.

Dustin has his own face in his hand but looks up soon enough to offer Eddie a resigned shrug.

He catches Max watching the exchange with curious eyes, her face tilting between Eddie, Dustin, Mike, and Steve, but he can't think about that now. 

Not with Steve pushing himself up from the van on unsteady legs, he brushes past Eddie, reaching up with a shaking hand to pinch his nose. 

Eddie darts a hand out to catch Steve's elbow, halting his path.

Steve lets him.

Eddie takes a step closer, wracking his brain, trying to figure out what he could have said to make Steve so upset, had he read him wrong after all, had he overstepped somehow?

"Steve," he says softly, his grip on Steve's elbow is loose but steady as he pulls him closer.

Steve doesn't turn to look at Eddie but he doesn't move away either.

"What the hell is the hold up assholes!" Mike barks out again and Eddie lets himself throw a dirty glare at the kid, which Mike merely rolls his eyes at. 

The attitude on these kids.

Mike does eventually turn, pulled by Dustin, back to the rope that Lucas is securing to the nearby fencepost, hopefully distracted for long enough to let Eddie figure this out. 

But before he can say anything, Steve is pulling himself away from the grip on his elbow, “Eddie--”

"Please,” the word falls out of his mouth, desperate, louder than he wants, “please Steve, just, promise me we'll talk”.

Steve turns his face slightly, just enough that Eddie knows he sees him. 

His eyes are no longer wet, but still red rimmed, his nose slightly pink, the same way he looked that night at the halloween party sitting on that rock in the dark. 

“Okay,” Steve whispers into the night air, quickly and quietly before he presses forward. 

Eddie lets him go, his empty hand drops limply at his side as he watches Steve make his way back to the kids. He snatches an unused pair of goggles from the nearly empty pile on the ground and checks the post where Lucas had secured the rope. 

Eddie watches from the sidelines as Steve seamlessly moves back into Babysitter mode, and while some part of Eddie is relieved at this, he can’t help but miss the way it felt to hold Steve, to put him back together again. 

Even if it was just for a moment.

Part Nine Now Up!

Tag List:

@eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @steveshairspray @hellfireone @eddielives1986 @sunswathe  @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson @queenie-ofthe-void @rainbowsaw @sp0o0kylights @littlebluejane @hi-im-eff  @phantypurple @just-ladyme @thoroughlycollected @justrandomfandomstm @swimmingbirdrunningrock @finntheehumaneater @dynamic-powerm@nightmareglitter @genderless-spoon @zaddipax @thebiblesays @pyrohonk @emly03 @geekymagicalpotato @sidebarre @lemon-astra @cipounette @discreetapple @starlitlakes @saphhicwitchbitch @marvel-ous-m @lingeringmirth @honorarybrit81 @bookbinderbitch @finntheehumaneater  @lololol-1234 @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @monsterloverforhire @gaydrieeen @starlight-archer @homosexual-having-tea @devondespresso @rennnnon @my-hyperfixations-hell-blog

And a few people I think may be intersted!

@steddierthings @steddie-there @stevesbipanic @henderdads

[dirtytransmasc]

the Sully kids' reaction to Jake saying Spider "knew everything" breaks my heart.

they knew him better than anyone else, better than their parents. they knew his love for Eywa, for Pandora, for The People, for the clan, for their family. they knew he would never tell the RDA anything... not willingly at least.

they knew they were leaving because Spider would be tortured for information, he'd be forced to reveal their home, their plans, their numbers, their weaknesses. their brother would be tortured and they were being forced to leave him behind.

they knew they were being forced to find a new home, without their brother, because their dad knew he would be tortured.

[gophergal]

Behold, a silly AU I've been yapping to @cursed--alien about for... A week? Or two? Idk. Either way this is what they called Nine Mercs And A Baby, in which Medic creates a test tube baby (using his and Heavy's genetics) to develop an artificial womb then gets really attached to the resulting offspring. I'm not much of a fankid or kidfic person (kids weird me out), but this AU has really grown on me despite being a joke at first

(more details under the cut)

Before their "birth", Medic refused to acknowledge the question of what he was planning on doing with the baby if it survived. After it was born he claimed that he was only keeping it to study human growth and development first hand

Medic is extremely weird about fatherhood. He's simultaneously really anxious and distant. He knows he's not cut out to be a primary caregiver. It's just not something he's capable of, and he thinks himself too old for this nonsense. However, once he realizes that he really does have the support of his dysfunctional found family, he allows himself to learn to be a better father

The kid was raised relatively gender neutral. Ever read the book "X: a fabulous child's story"? They're not quite that neutral, but they're not really forced into gender roles or expectations. They have two first names (one feminine, one masculine), but no one in their family uses them. Most of the time they're just called the Kid, but everyone has a nickname for 'em. They don't care about pronouns all that much. (C'mon, they're my OC and I headcanon Medic as transmasc. There was no way they wouldn't be some flavor of nonbinary)

Heavy treasures his child and is so fucking protective. He's wrapped around their little finger. Though everyone helps out with their needs, he's his child's primary caregiver and no decisions are made about them without Papa Bear knowing

They're born in 1968 and spend the first four years of their life living on the base. MvM doesn't happen in this AU, so once the Gravel Wars end, Red Team goes their separate ways... At first. After a year or so they start trickling back together because nothing feels quite as right as being A Team. Kid only had about a year of their life where they didn't have a big family to rely on

It's not all sunshine and rainbows, but the only Major Issue in the family (at least for Kid) is how distant Medic is despite being their actual Legal Father. He tries, but he's afraid of smothering them or pressuring them into following in his footsteps. Had he been younger when they were born, he probably wouldn't have cared. But having the opportunity to form strong bonds has made him a softer man. Regardless, they still love each other, and Kid feels lucky to have a dad like him

[egophiliac]

this started as a reply to someone but got out of hand when I remembered what Trey’s unique magic does, and therefore what the cutest solution to white queen Riddle would be 🌹

and then it very quickly spiraled out of control