#THIS POST WAS AN ACCIDENT. I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED. WHY DID I WRITE THIS. WHAT DEMON POSSESSED ME

[moongothic]

Crocodad AU where immidiately after having left Dragon and his baby boy Crocodile finds an 11 year old Robin. And while he's 100% only recruiting her so they can make a beeline for the Poneglyph and Pluton in Alabasta by the two of them... Crocodile accidentally sorta kinda adopts Robin.

At this point Robin's been running for her life from the Government for three years so her deep trust issues and fear of betrayal are starting to take root in her little heart. Like perhaps they haven't taken fully over yet, and being still a child I'm sure Robin might've still had that genuine hope that she could find a safe place to stay in. But I'm sure the though of "what'll he'll do with me once he gets what he wants?" would be nagging at her at the back of her mind. Meanwhile Crocodile's struggling between the pain and hurt he's already gone through and given him his trademark trust issues, as well as the aftermath of The Dragodile Divorce. But he also has his Fresh Paternal Instincts and probably misses his baby. So when given a small, scared child who is running for her life, being chased by the very same Government that'll want his son dead if they ever find out about him... Yeah that might fuck with your brain a little

You know this post was supposed to be just that first paragraph and just a few footnotes from the following two paragraphs. And then I kept on Having Thoughts. And I kept on writing them down. And oh no what happened when did this post get so long (Look I was going to either kept on writing my Additional Thoughts in the tags or I just put them in the actual fucking post)

Like considder this: based on this one SBS, we can kinda tell that if Crocodile was given a chance to raise a child, that child would be a spoiled little shit, right

So in this scenario, where Crocodile's looking after lil Robin, would he be kind of torn? Unsure how to feel about her?

Because on one hand, this strange child would have the potential to not only ruin his plans, strip him of his Shichibukai Privileges by outing him and his plans to the World Government, but also put his son in grave danger by extension (if she found out about him having been involved with the Revolutionaries and/or having a child). But on the other hand, his paternal instincts could make him want to spoil this poor little girl rotten. But only because he needs to (perhaps literally) buy her trust so she'll behave. No other reason, he doesn't feel sorry for her one bit, no sirree. (But maybe he did feel sorry for her, since his son could very well end up exactly like her. Poor little thing) (Which is why he needs to nuke Marijoa out of orbit as soon as possible, no matter the cost, and this child can't get in the way of Crocodile protecting his son) (But also this is a child. Like how bad could she be. Besides all he really needs to do to win her trust is be nice and make her feel safe, right?)

Of course, while I'm suggesting Crocodile could have some parental instincts, realistically, he hasn't actually spent any time being, you know, a father to a child (looking after his newborn for an unknown though short amount of time aside), so it's possible he wouldn't even know how to parent Robin even if he wanted to, would he? (Like taking care of a newborn and an 11 year old kid aren't the same either) So if he was kind of just emotionally flipflopping between No Trusting Ever and It's Just A Kid for God's Sake, Crocodile trying to be nice to Robin to make her feel safe and then telling himself to stop being so soft and vunerable... Yeah that would make for an absolute mess of a relationship. (Not to mention, let's be real, dude's a scary motherfucker too, and a bloody giant compared to itty bitty baby Robin. He could keep on accidentally scaring the shit out of Robin (who would be On Fucking Edge To Begin With) by just Being Himself. Like for example, can you fucking imagine if he caught Robin trying to cheer herself up with a little "dereshishishi" only to tell her to stop because "it was stupid"? 'Cause I can imagine him doing that, and boy howdy would that make Robin feel bad)

Or who knows, maybe Crocodile was just Born To Be A Dad, maybe he just Fucking Gets It. Like Crocodile is canonically pretty good at manipulating people to do what he wants them to do (see: how he played Vivi like a fiddle), so knowing Robin's position and understanding how she feels, maybe he COULD completely nail how she needed to be treated. Not being too familiar but still making her feel safe and happy, knowing exactly when to be stern and when to spoil her, etc. Dude just goes off and wins the Dad of the Year Award while being a deadbeat dad himself. The only thing Crocodile would have to worry about then would be making sure HE doesn't get too fond of her. And certainly that could never happen, he's so in-touch with his own feelings and so grounded, he's not a softie, get outta here. Or maybe he does but never realizes until it's too late and good luck backpedalling on those emotions now dumbass

Alright so, the reason I went on that whole rmble is just that like. I'm so interested in the relationship Robin and Crocodile already have in canon. I'm so facinated and curious about how the two feel about each other, considdering they did spend 4 whole years of their lives together as criminal business partners, though neither ever trusted the other. A partnership that was only ended because Robin betrayed Crocodile, out of her own trauma. (God, I want to see these two "reunite" so bad, I want to know how they feel about each other now after the timeskip and Robin joining the idiot in flipflops who foiled Croc's plans)

My question here is just that... if they had met 13 years earlier, would things have been different? Especially if Crocodad Real? Because as I mentioned in the begining, Robin would've been on the run for only 3 years by this point, as opposed to 16 years before running into Crocodile. Simultaneously, this would be before Crocodile went onto spend an entire decade all alone, slowly losing his marbles in his emotional solitude. They'd both be emotionally traumatized, yes, but would it have been as bad in this scenario? Like I did start this post kind of joking about Crocodile adopting Robin, and for clarity's sake I don't think they'd have like a father-daughter relationship nececarily. But it would be a strange relationship still, because we'd have two broken people, both struggling to trust anyone. One who had lost her mother and her only friends, leaving her all alone and afraid while running for her life. The other a father who had just given up his son whom he probably missed dearly. Both having these holes in their hearts from loss of family, holes that could not be filled with replacements. But could they find comfort in each other anyway, because they still as people occupy similar roles to their respective loved ones? If they both could just get over those trust issues?

Okay I've been going off on the Emotional Side Of Things for this AU Concept, THERE'S PLOT TOO

So if Crocodile did pick Robin up like 19 years ago, that should be before he set up base in Alabasta, long before he had built is homebase and financial empire etc.

Now the thing is, while we don't know when, where and how Crocodile learned about the Ancient Weapons, Pluton specifically and how the lead on it would be in Alabasta... Considdering Crocodile did once upon a time aim to become Pirate King, it would make perfect sense if he had learned about Poneglyphs during his past adventures, as he would have needed to get the Road Poneglyphs to find One Piece. And while the World Government did bury the truth about why Ohara had been burned down and why Robin had been given her bounty (remember, the WG claimed it was because she had sunken a fleet of battleships, which she had not, it was because she could read the Poneglyphs), considdering this is a Crocodad AU specifically, you could totally make an argument Crocodile could've learned about what actually happened to Ohara from Dragon and co. So, just to make this AU work, you could just assume Crocodile learned about the concept of the Ancient Weapons from Dragon. And who knows, maybe he overheard the truth about why Robin had been given her bounty from Dragon too (maybe Dragon was able to get intel from Garp in secret) or while going to Marijoa himself to attend a Shichibukai meeting or something IDK.

Maybe he learned about Pluton being in Alabasta before finding Robin by accident, and maybe they made a beeline for Alabasta the second Croc recruited Robin. Travelling takes time and the guy would've most likely had to find an Eternal Pose to Alabasta just to get there (also canonically Robin didn't enter the Grand Line until her 20s so they should've met in West Blue probably, since that's where Ohara was) Or maybe Crocodile had to haul Robin around for a few months while looking for That Missing Piece of Information that would lead him to Alabasta. (Imagine the two travelling from like island to island, library to library, Crocodile trying to find that leads while Robin's just so excited about ALL THESE BOOKS (she's helping too with the research) (but to her, research is playtime, so she's just having the time of her life) (Also, notice how Crocodile's Theoretical Child is a fucking loser ass nerd? Yeah Crocodile would encourage Robin reading and studying, surely. And that would be fucking cute))

But like, once they set sail to Alabasta...

Sure, Crocodile could try to do it The Slow Way that we know he tried in canon, building trust and creating his little empire etc. But also, in canon, Crocodile couldn't have jumped into action head first because without Robin, even if he had found the Poneglyph he couldn't have read it and found the location of Pluton. Crocodile choosing to do it the slow way may have been partially because he didn't have much of a choise and it could've felt like the smarter move long-term.

But in this scenario, he already has Robin. Yes, he could do it the slow, secure way.

But what'd be there stopping him from infiltrating Cobra's palace and kidnapping him (in the night, when nobody suspects a thing), demanding Cobra to spill the beans lest Crocodile kills him and/or his pregnant wife* (*Vivi was born 10 months after Luffy so depending on how long it's been between Crocodad leaving Luffy behind and this scenario... Yeah either the wife is there, still pregnant, or there's a newborn Baby Vivi)

Like it'd be a risky move but depending on how ballsy Croc's feeling and how confident he feels in being able to kidnap the king without being noticed... Yeah he could probably do it. And I'm sure he'd have no problem killing Cobra either, if anything it'd be required if he didn't want the Government to find out he was out to find Pluton, and god knows Cobra would tell on Crocodile if left alive. I could see Crocodad being maybe a little iffy about killing Baby Vivi though (it's not like the newborn baby could report him to the WG anyways), but if nothing else, he just needs to be able to pull off the bluff of his life to convince Cobra to do as he's told. And we all know Crocodile's good at convincing people.

The only question is, how would Robin take that?

Watching Crocodile go into Full Murder Mode, hearing him say he'd kill a pregnant woman/a newborn baby if he didn't get what he wanted? Like yeah, I'm sure 11 year old Robin would be fine with that, that wouldn't make any alarm bells go off in her head at all, it'd be fiiiine. IT WOULD NOT BE FINE, SHE'D BE SCARED SHITLESS. That fear of "what will he do with me when he gets what he wants"? Well, Robin may not have found the answer to that question in particular, but she certainly found the answer to the opposite question, and it's not good

So say Cobra, kidnapped (perhaps with Baby Vivi) by Crocodile in the night, guides the two to the Poneglyph under the tombs. Crocodile puts Cobra out of his misery because he's not needed anymore. And he asks Robin to read the Poneglyph for him.

Robin, who has spent the last little while, be it weeks or months with Crocodile, him having become her "guardian", the thing keeping her safe. Crocodile, who has now shown how cold blooded and cruel he can be. Robin, who might be scared out of her mind. Of him.

And the Poneglyph says Pluton, the thing Crocodile wants, isn't there. It's in Wano.

What's she going to do?

EDIT: I wrote a sequel post, enjoy

[a-hazbin-reader]

love the chaotic-ness of platonic alastor and reader of your posts!! the way you write him is more canon compliant but that makes it even more GREAT. can i req platonic alastor (+maybe rosie as a trio?) with overlord!reader. they just talk shit about the Vees and stuff lmao and do it openly on his radio show. hang out at rosie’s. maybe alastor gets reader to support the hotel too and everyone’s to alastor is like THEM?? You know THEM??? alastor’s like yeah lol we blow stuff up every tuesday and broadcast it where you at

OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST-

Alastor X Reader X Rosie Headcanons

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Alastor and Rosie cannibalism

Description: 👆⬆️

The three of you are very busy demons who have demanding jobs so getting together doesn't happen as often as you'd like

But when you get together??? It's almost like you're all a bunch of gossiping old women instead of powerful deadly overlords

Rosie brings the snacks(bring your own if you don't want people meat), Alastor provides the venue, and you pick the topic of discussion

The first podcast was entirely an accident, Alastor forgetting he was on air when you and Rosie suddenly burst in

ALASTOR YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED

He gets so sucked into what you're saying that he forgets about his radio show and everything the three of you are saying is being broadcast live

But a lot of people are tuning into it??? Like everyone is so entertained by the three of you and your conversation

Once you three realize what happened then you all agree that this must become a weekly occurrence

Even the other overlords listen in on it every once in a while, finding it hilarious

Vox is absolutely livid because he's being IGNORED, why is nobody watching tv anymore???

He tries to get you and Rosie on his show instead but the two of you don't even take the offer seriously

The chemistry would be all off without Alastor's sparkling humor anyways

Which makes him throw a huge tantrum that becomes the next topic between the three of you

Y'all are just trashing this man at this point

It's his own fault for providing you three with so much ammo

But nobody is safe

It's just a fun little gossip podcast that somehow blows up and turns into this gigantic thing

But it gives you three an excuse to hang out

Whenever the conversation starts to drift towards the hotel you try to stay out of it for your own reasons

And it does always go back to the hotel, Alastor is running a business afterall

Alastor slowly starts to warm you up to the idea of his hotel, whatever your motivations are or if you believe in it

Rosie also encourages you to at least humor him and go see it

Easy for you say, he's not pressuring YOU

So you give in one day, accompanying Alastor to the hotel

Huh, Alastor wasn't joking when he said that Lucifer's daughter was his partner 🤔

You're not entirely surprised when you see the shocked looks everyone gives Alastor when they see you

WTF ALASTOR WHEN YOU SAID Y/N WAS COMING I DIDN'T THINK YOU MEANT Y/N THE OVERLORD

Who else would it have been, Vaggie???

Everyone nervously watches you and Alastor interact, it's two extremely powerful beings in one hotel

Except for Niffty, she greats you like an old friend, climbing all over you and making maniacal noises

Husk and Niffty are the only ones not surprised by your friendship, knowing that you and Alastor are good friends

They fill the others in on your relationship when they think you two aren't listening

It's almost funny hearing it come from someone else, you had nearly forgotten how you two met

"That's right..! I DID try to kill you! That's so funny!"

"Isn't it? And I do believe I nearly bit your hand clean off!"

You two are fucking deranged

You have a better understanding of why Alastor wants so much support for this hotel now

And you're a little surprised that Charlie seems to believe so genuinely in the idea of redeeming a soul

Regardless of if you're sold in the idea or not, you agree to support the hotel for Alastor

But now you're going to rope Rosie in with you too, if you're gonna go down then the three of you are going down together

But that's unlikely to happen, Alastor wouldn't lead you guys into a death trap

He's never steered you wrong before

This was so fun to write!!

[justporo]

You might (probably not) have seen a post from me today saying I was feeling empty and exhausted. I deleted that because I figured nobody would wanna see me cry on main all the time, so yeah... I feel better now though, don't worry.

Still I had very self-indulgent thoughts today, that I will share because three cheers for turning bad energy into positive stuff:

Headcanons for Astarion comforting his partner

Oh gods, you're almost already crying: your lips are already wobbling and your eyes are dangerously wet. What's a vampire gonna do about it?

Astarion is really lost about what to do, but he knows for sure: he really doesn't want you to cry or feel sad

"What's wrong, love? Did I do something wrong?"

He's definitely worrying and overthinking about if he's the reason behind your tears

The rock dropping from his undead heart when you eagerly shake your head though

So he awkwardly drags you into a hug and strokes your back while you just let tears flow

He holds you as long as you need to, just being there and willing that you'll feel better soon

"Do you want to talk about it, my heart? Maybe putting it into words will help you send it away."

Astarion will get better about this the more he learns about his partner and he's eager to be prepared the next time this happens: for example, learning what kind of hot beverage you love, to prepare it (specially with something fancy to make it even better and he calls it "à l'Astarion" with a wink and it makes you giggle with it already)

Astarion will absolutely try and make you feel better by cracking absolutely stupid jokes: "You know, I really didn't think water elves did exist. But you're the living proof aren't you, my sweet sad darling?" (The jokes are terrible... but that's why they cracked you up so much)

He'll also really listen to what you tell him helps and he'll try his best to make you happy again as soon as possible

Sometimes that entails just letting it all go while he simply holds you, humming a lullaby and swaying you in his arms

He nuzzles his face in your hair, the top of your head

Also lots of loving kisses of course

Sometimes he just talks and talks until you peacefully drift into dreams in his arms and he'll smile at you, seeing how your face has become relaxed again and wrap you in a blanket on the sofa or carry you to bed carefully

And after a good cathartic cry: "Feel better now, love? Then let me run you a bath - and join you if you want..."

Then sometime he'll have it figured out and just needs a bit of input to figure out what will help: "No no, my sweet, you will not just sit here and spiral! Do you want to go for a walk?" You shake your head. "Smash some old mugs and curse all the Gods?" More head-shaking. "Want me to grab ink and paper and write down an action plan with you?" Still head shaking. "Alright, darling, you're making this a hard nut to crack. How about I make you some fresh tea, wrap you in some blanket and read you a Drizzt story?" You eagerly nod your head and wrap your arms around the suddenly flustered vampire, also maybe rubbing your snotty nose on his shirt a little. Entirely on accident of course. "Ugh, and you're also getting some tissues, you nasty little gremlin."

[asdfghjklmals]

ACCIDENTS✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff, angst. no smut. mentions of pregnancy, sex, injury, blood, and abortion. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 4.5k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, boyfriend!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple.

SYNOPSIS: during oc gojo girlfriend's yearly check up with shoko, she finds out she's pregnant. how will satoru act when he finds out? AUTHOR'S NOTE: i did make some changes to the beginning compared to the preview that i posted! thank you @mdnxghtjj for staying up late with me to try to make up scenarios on how oc gojo girlfriend would be pregnant by accident lol my google search probably thinks i'm the pregnant one. here is the official start to my version of dad!gojo and the official start to the baby gojo chronicles 🥹 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions, instead please do!

your least favorite time of the year was when shoko had everyone visit her office for a yearly check up. that was a full examination for everyone.

“here, pee on this.” shoko handed you a pregnancy test. you looked at her with confusion written all over your face.

shoko saw your facial expression and reassured you, “it’s just part of the protocol, (y/n). would you rather pee in a cup? last time you told me you hate peeing in cups because you don't want to accidentally pee on your hands.”

“fine... it’s gonna be negative anyways.” you said confidently. you took the test from her hand reluctantly and went to the bathroom.

as shoko gave you a thorough examination, you couldn’t help but peer at the white and blue pregnancy test sitting in the corner next to the sink. it wasn’t your first time using one, but it was always strange taking one. especially for no reason.

"alright, you're done. have you been feeling better since you caught that cold?" shoko asked as you hopped off the examination able. she went back to the sink to remove her gloves and wash her hands. you had caught some horrible cold or stomach bug over a month ago, and it left you with fever, chills, and non-stop vomitting for weeks. you were so sick that you told satoru you wanted to write a will to leave everything to megumi and tsumiki because you didn't think you were going to make it.

“yeah. i haven’t been that sick in so long. i was vomitting like every other hour. satoru thought he was going to die when i wouldn’t let him sleep in our bed. he slept in tsumiki's old room for two weeks, poor guy. i didn't want him to catch whatever it was,” you chuckled at the thought of your 6’3” boyfriend sleeping in a baby pink decorated room.

“(y/n)…”

“yeah?” you turned to face shoko.

shoko asked you cautiously, “are you on birth control?”

suspicion filled your eyes as you peered at the amber-eyed doctor, “yeah, i’ve been on birth control since i was 21… why?”

“your pregnancy test came back positive.”

you stared at the digital screen. the words “pregnant” screamed at you inside your head. were you really pregnant? this was something you never thought would happen, at least not right now.

“that’s not possible, shoko.” you laughed nervously in disbelief.

“according to the test, you are.” shoko looked confused. as a doctor, she was determined to figure out how one of her bestfriends, who was on birth control, got pregnant. she studied your charts and medical records as she chewed on the tip of her pen.

you tried to retrace your footsteps for the past month. you had a very specific routine, and you took your birth control every morning after brushing your teeth and washing your face. your package of pills sat in your bathroom drawer just below the sink as your daily reminder to take your birth control.

shoko folded her arms and cleared her throat, “uhm, i hate to ask you this because i truly don’t want to know, but when was the first time you and gojo had sex after you got sick?”

you thought it was a strange question because wouldn’t shoko want to know when the most recent time you were intimate with satoru was?

“well…” you looked at her sheepishly, a face full of embarrassment, “we had sex right when my cold symptoms went away.” it would’ve been uncomfortable for your aching body, so you made satoru wait. and yes, he complained about it for two weeks.

shoko massaged her temples as she realized what the problem was, “god, (y/n). remember you were literally throwing up all the time when you were sick?”

your jaw dropped, “does that mean i threw up my birth control…?”

“that could’ve been the case, but if you throw up 1-2 hours after taking your birth control, your body might not have the chance to absorb it. your body was technically missing dosages since you were vomiting almost every day for a week…” shoko explained.

you stared at the doctor. your heart was racing and your mind had a million thoughts running through your head. you couldn’t believe that you were pregnant. there was just no way. as much as you and satoru joked about having kids, you knew deep down that satoru wasn’t ready. and you didn’t think he’d ever be. but you were okay with that. you had spent most of your young adult life raising two kids, so you felt like you weren't missing out on much.

“please, don’t tell satoru.” you quietly pleaded with shoko.

“don’t tell gojo-sensei what?” megumi asked from the office door. he dropped his backpack and his gym bag on the floor, walking towards you and shoko.

your eyes widened as you discreetly shifted the pregnancy test under your thigh, “hi kiddo, don’t tell gojo-sensei that i bought him his favorite kikufuku as a surprise.” that was a horrible lie, you're usually better than that.

shoko cleared her throat to try and change the subject, “hi megumi! you’re early for your exam.”

“yeah, i finished jujutsu practice early.” he replied back to shoko as he reverted his gaze back at you, “(y/n), what’s going on?”

“nothing, i just finished my exam. shoko says i’m as healthy as a horse!” you laughed nervously.

“you’re pregnant, aren’t you?” megumi asked you straightforwardly, “you were complaining about your boobs hurting the other day, you felt sick yesterday morning at breakfast, and you complained about being bloated at lunch today. not to mention, you’re always throwing up in my bathroom at home.”

you stopped to think about the symptoms that megumi just listed. you didn’t even consider that being pregnant was the reason why you were experiencing those symptoms. you always thought you were in the clear with those stupid tiny birth control pills.

you sighed, lifting your thigh to grab the pregnancy test. you showed it to megumi. “satoru doesn’t know… and we’re going to keep it that way.”

“why don’t you want to tell him?” he asked you, “are you guys fighting?”

“no, we're not fighting. this whole thing was an accident because of my cold last month... and to be honest, i don't know if your sensei even wants kids.” you smiled halfheartedly at megumi.

“i won’t say anything.” megumi promised. he couldn't imagine satoru gojo not wanting to reproduce and to have mini-satorus running around to terrorize the jujutsu world.

you warned him, “that means you can’t tell tsumiki either, i don’t want her to rush back home from her study abroad program just because of this.” (read 'wherever you are' here)

megumi reached his pinky out to you and you locked yours with his, both of you kissing your thumbs to seal the seal. he wrapped his arms around you in a warm hug. you needed that comfort right now.

“if i do the math, you’re about 5 weeks pregnant, (y/n).” shoko said, “so stop taking your birth control if you want to keep your baby.” megumi’s green eyes peered over at you, interested in what you had to say about that.

“what if i want to get an abortion…?” you asked quietly. megumi’s eyes now wide in horror. 'how could you even think about abortion?' he thought.

shoko sighed, “i think that’s something you should have a serious talk with gojo about. it would be unfair for him not to know.”

you weren’t sure if you should feel excited, nervous, or scared. you were excited because who wouldn’t want to have a child with the love of their life? you were nervous (and scared) because you didn’t know how satoru would react if you told him. you were scared because your unborn baby would be a target to all rival clans, inheriting all of yours and satoru’s enemies. not only that, but also a target for all intelligent curses as well.

later that night: the gojo/(l/n) household

“how was your yearly check up?” satoru asked as you poked at your medium rare steak that you probably shouldn’t be eating now that you were pregnant. he watched you as you rolled a roasted baby potato around your plate with your fork.

“it was fine. healthy as a horse.” you recycled your joke from this afternoon. satoru furrowed his brows, he sensed something was wrong. you were fine this morning, so what happened between the time you went to work and the time you got home?

“are you sure…?” he started to pry.

annoyance starting to rise in your tone. you kissed the back of your teeth, “i just don’t feel well… and the steak is too rare.” you lied. you always ate your steak medium rare. rareness did not bother you, the cow could still be mooing and you’d eat it.

“i can always put it back on the grill, babe. want it medium?”

“well-done, please.” you mumbled, “thanks, sweetheart.”

satoru picked up your plate, extremely confused on why all of a sudden you would eat a well-done steak. it was very unlike you. he kissed you on the cheek to try to ease whatever it was that was bugging you. you wanted to tell him so badly that you were pregnant. you never kept secrets from each other. you watched him slide on his slippers, opening the door to the patio with catoru following behind him. he slapped your steak on the grill again while looking out at the tokyo skyline.

during this time, you wondered what kind of father satoru would be. you imagined he would be the carefree type of dad. he would be the fun, loving, lenient father while you were the one to lay down the rules. that’s how it was when you were both raising megumi and tsumiki. your eyes started to well up with tears at the thought of satoru possibly becoming a father. was this the pregnancy hormones getting to you?

you quickly wiped your tears as satoru made his way back into the apartment with your steak. he closed the door behind him and sat down next to you at the dining table.

“why were you crying just barely?” he asked softly. he could sense your cursed energy wavering from the patio. he knew every mood you were in just because of how your cursed energy looked to his six eyes.

“i wasn’t crying,” you said adamantly, “my eyes were itchy.”

satoru understood that whatever was bothering you, you didn’t want to talk about it. normally, he would pry and pry until you would finally tell him what was wrong, but tonight, he felt that he shouldn’t. he cut your steak into bite-sized cubes for you, just like how you always did before you started eating.

you caressed his cheek with your hand, giving him a soft smile in appreciation.

“should we go get some ice cream with the kids tomorrow? i promise i’ll treat.” he asked, knowing that ice cream always made you feel better after a shitty day.

“yeah. i need that dairy-free double scoop of chocolate ice cream right now.” (read ‘seeing red’ here)

the next day

you had taken half a day off to meet satoru, nobara, yuji, and megumi in shibuya to grab the ice cream that satoru promised you last night. you and satoru walked next to each together as your spirit birds flew overhead. the students were following behind you with their ice cream cones.

“i still can’t believe gojo-sensei has been dating (y/n)-sensei for over 10 years.” nobara hissed at her two partners as she watched you and satoru walking together in front of them.

“why is it hard to believe? sensei is a pretty good looking dude.” yuji said nonchalantly.

megumi sighed and explained, “that’s not the point, itadori. the point is that (y/n)-sensei is way out of his league.”

“you seem pretty close to her, fushiguro.” yuji pointed out, noticing that megumi always defended you no matter what the topic was.

“i kinda owe her and gojo-sensei my life.” megumi grumbled, “they took me in when i was five.”

nobara looked at him, wide-eyed, “you mean… they adopted you when they were 18?! and (y/n)-sensei is basically like your mom?! oh my god! he needs to put a ring on her immediately for all he puts her through!”

megumi knew the reason why you two weren’t married yet. it was for your safety, not because gojo-sensei didn’t want to. he would’ve married you right after high school graduation if that was the case.

you giggled to yourself as you scooped chocolate ice cream to feed to satoru. he grabbed the spoon from you, licking it clean.

“their conversation is so funny.” you said to him.

“are you listening to them with your shikigami? you’re so nosy.” satoru playfully chastised you.

you called back your birds with your hand signal as they flew closer to you and satoru. they seemed to be flying happily as no danger was around. “your students are wondering why we aren’t married yet.”

“you already know why.” satoru put the spoon back into your ice cream.

“you don’t want to make me a target.” you recited back to him. satoru gojo believed that if you were to marry him, you would be a target and gain all his and the gojo clan’s enemies. that would make you the achilles' heel to the strongest sorcerer known to man.

“it’s not like people don’t know that we’re together.” you rolled your eyes, “i can take care of myself, satoru. i'm pretty sure the kamo clan is out for my head as we speak.” (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

“i know you can take care of yourself. i just think it’s safer this way.” he shrugged.

“but i want to have kids too. i’m not getting any younger.” you inserted, hoping he’d take the bait to talk about having kids.

“what are you talking about? we have two kids, megumi and tsumiki.” satoru said nonchalantly, you wanted to face palm your forehead to how oblivious he was.

digging deeper, you added, “i want kids with white hair and blue eyes running around.”

“hate to break it to you sweetheart, but they won’t be getting blue eyes. there can only be one six eyes in a lifetime, you already know that.”

“what about your white hair?” you tip-toed to ruffle his hair as he laughed, grabbing your hand.

“what about your black hair and beautiful green eyes that i love so much?” satoru grinned at you, “if you want, we can practice reproducing later tonight?”

you threw an ice shard at him, hitting his infinity. “no inappropriate jokes around the students, please.” you chastised him as he winked at you. you scooped another bite of ice cream into your mouth as you frowned.

“so feisty… i’m in for a world of trouble if our future kids ever get your attitude.”

“if that’s the case… you better get ready.” you muttered under your breath.

satoru didn’t hear your comment. “hmmm? what’d you say?” he asked.

“nothing, eat your ice cream.” you replied, quickly shoving another spoonful in his mouth.

"ouch, brain freeze." satoru grimaced.

one week later

time was ticking as the baby in your stomach was growing. you had to tell satoru you were pregnant.

your morning sickness was horrible. you didn’t want satoru to catch onto anything, so whenever you felt sick, you ran to the bathroom near megumi’s room across the apartment instead of your master bathroom. (see the apartment layout here)

“babe?” satoru found you in the guest bathroom, hurled over the toilet, dry heaving. “are you okay?” he crouched down to pull your hair back, “do we need to go see shoko?”

“no, it’s fine.” you pushed him away, “leave me alone, please. i don't want to you see me like this.”

“and why would i leave you alone? there's clearly something going on with your health again.” he comforted you, rubbing firm circles on your upper back.

after your morning sickness session in the bathroom subsided, you miserably dragged your feet back to your bathroom to brush your teeth. satoru leaned against the bathroom door frame, arms folded. you turned to face him.

“don’t you have a mission today?” you asked him, hoping that he'd leave soon.

“yeah, i do. but don’t change the subject. what is going on? are you sick?” satoru asked. the past week you had unintentionally become distant and avoided having deep conversations with him. he felt the cold shoulder from you emotionally and he hated it. he was starting to get fed up.

“no. i’m not sick.”

“do you have some type of terminal illness or something that you’re not telling me about?”

“no, satoru!” you scoffed in disbelief. he was so smart and cunning in battle, how could he not put 2+2 together for something as simple as this?

“do you want to break up with me? is that it? are you tired of me?” he asked quietly.

how could he ask you that after 10 years of putting up with him?

“no!!!” you shouted at him.

“then what is it, (y/n)?!” he finally snapped after a week of trying to be patient, “what are you hiding from me?” satoru’s voice raised an octave as he got more frustrated as the conversation was going nowhere.

you couldn’t handle it anymore. you clenched your fists, water started pouring out of the apartment faucets and showers from your raging cursed energy.

“i’m pregnant!” you shouted back at him.

satoru lifted his blindfold, his blue eyes widened, jaw dropped. it was as if time stood still for him. the only thing he could hear was the sound of your angry breathing and all the faucets flowing throughout the apartment.

“what…?” satoru whispered, “that can’t happen. you’re on birth control.”

“that’s what i thought too. but shoko confirmed it.” you told him as tears started to form on your long dark lashes.

“damn it… damn it. damn it!” satoru hissed. he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing off his blindfold and throwing it at the bathroom counter. “why didn’t you tell me?”

his reaction hurt your feelings, “because i didn’t know what your reaction would be and clearly you’re not happy about it.”

“how far along are you?” he asked, ignoring your comment. he walked towards you to stand beside you, putting his hand on top of yours. you flinched as you took your hand back to wipe your tears away.

“6 weeks. it’s early enough that i can get an abortion.” you sniffled.

“just… don’t make any decisions right now.” he said. it sounded like he was begging you, “we can talk more when i get back from this damn mission.”

satoru leaned towards you. he grabbed the side of your head to kiss your temple, “i love you, (y/n). i'm not mad at you.” he whispered.

satoru’s mission

it took everything in satoru not to leave you behind at the apartment alone after the way he reacted. why did he have to be assigned such a lowly mission? any of the students could’ve handled it, so why did it have to be him out of all people and out of all the days?

he teleported to shinagawa where it was reported that a curse was terrorizing an elementary school. it looked deserted when he arrived at the front gate.

satoru raised two fingers to put up a veil, “emerge from darkness, blacker still. purify that which is impure.”

he walked into the school, his six eyes sensing the curse right away. it couldn’t have been more than a grade 2 or 3. he heard a bloodcurdling scream, leading him to the gymnasium.

“please help!” a woman’s voice screamed and begged as the curse towered over her. satoru teleported in front of the woman and swiftly blasted the curse away with sheer force, exorcising it immediately.

“are you alright?” satoru turned to ask the woman. he stopped dead in his tracks.

she was pregnant.

“please sir, save my baby.” she begged as she was bleeding from her abdomen. her hands and arms shielding her womb protectively. the curse must’ve already injured her before satoru arrived. he kicked himself for his late arrival. he could’ve prevented this if he came earlier.

he lifted the injured woman in his arms, “don’t worry. i’ll save you. nothing will happen to you or your baby.” he promised as he teleported to the closest hospital.

tokyo shinagawa hospital

“it looks like the patient and her baby will be fine. she was close to full term. if she lost any more blood, her and the baby would’ve died.” the doctor reported back to satoru as ijichi stood next to him, documenting everything for the report that he would have to fill out later.

satoru was deep in thought about how this woman begged him to save her baby and not herself. it was the fact that she so selflessly put her baby first that really got to him.

he thought about you and what you would’ve done if you were in that woman’s shoes. he knew that you would protect your baby with your life because he would do the exact same thing. satoru felt his protective instinct skyrocket now more than ever.

satoru’s heart felt heavy. he immediately felt guilty knowing that you thought he didn't want to have kids and how hard this must have been for you the past week. he wanted to be there for you, but he was terrified of the unknown. would he be a good father? would he be able to protect this baby? and were you even happy being pregnant with his child?

“ijichi, can you take care of the rest? i have somewhere i need to be.” satoru asked impatiently.

ijichi complained, “are you sure you’re not just trying to pawn off your work to me?”

“there are two people who need me right now.” satoru waved as he teleported back to the apartment. the two people in question? you and the baby that was growing in your belly.

back at the apartment

you felt satoru’s cursed energy appear as he teleported back into the living room. he walked towards you and hugged you tightly, surprising you.

“can’t. breathe.” you said as your face was squished into his firm chest.

he immediately let go of you, scared he hurt the baby by embracing you so tightly.

“i know what you're thinking, the baby is fine.” you said as you hugged him back even tighter in return, “did you know the baby is the size of a sweet pea according to my baby tracking app? so they wouldn't have even felt that hug.”

“that’s pretty small.” he said, chuckling softly. he paused to take a deep breath, he then looked down at you, “can we talk?”

you nodded as he guided you back to the couch, sitting down in the soft white cushions as he sat on the floor in front of you, holding your hands.

he looked you in the eyes, “don’t get an abortion, (y/n).”

you blinked twice, “well, that’s not what i was expecting. what changed your mind?”

“i never said i didn’t want kids, babe.” satoru said defensively.

you mumbled as you folded your arms, “you made it sound like you didn’t. and your reaction when i told you i was pregnant earlier today doesn’t support that statement.” avoiding eye contact with him.

he grabbed your hands again and explained his point of view, “i was upset that you hid it from me. and i was surprised because you were on birth control which is supposed to prevent pregnancy. and i was really fucking scared.”

“scared? the satoru gojo scared of a baby the size of a sweet pea?” you emphasized. he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“i had a come-to-jesus moment during my mission.” he started to say, “(y/n), i’d do anything for you. just like you would for me. but now… we can’t put each other first anymore. we have to set our priorities elsewhere.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“we have to think of this baby and how this baby will always come first now.”

you were quiet, processing what satoru just said. yours and satoru's lives were going to drastically change. this baby would be your number one priority in life. you and satoru spent the last decade caring deeply for each other and being each other's prime concern, now this baby would come first.

you realized that he was terrified of having this baby be the center of his universe, knowing that the baby would be defenseless without you and him. satoru wanted to protect this baby with his life, just like the mother he saved today who wanted to save her baby's life.

being a parent meant that you would always have your heart living outside of your body, and that would make you vulnerable to extreme pain, but also let you experience indescribable love. and that was something you were willing to risk experiencing in life with satoru.

“you're right, babe. i agree.” you said softly, you held his cheek in your hand. “you really want to do this? you really want to be a dad?”

“hell yes i want this.” satoru said confidently, holding your hand against his cheek.

“how dare you get me pregnant, satoru gojo.” you jokingly reprimanded him.

he kneeled forward into you as he kissed you softly, “sorry, it was an accident.”

EXTRA:

“babe! show me this baby app you’ve been using this past week.” satoru demanded playfully as he pulled you into his lap. you grinned as you grabbed your phone to pull up the ‘what to expect’ app.

“so! baby gojo is the size of a sweet pea or a nail head. and they’re .25 inches small.”

"baby gojo... i like the sound of that." he smiled at the thought. he nodded, a signal for you to continue.

“it says that baby gojo’s face is forming and taking shape! i hope they don’t get your big head...” you laughed as satoru frowned.

“my head is not big!” he defended himself, “moving on.”

“it says that the heart starts to pulse around this time and we should be able to hear a heartbeat at my first pre-natal appointment…” you said with a smile.

“i’ll make sure i request that day off.”

“you better! or i’ll have a word with principal yaga.” you smacked his chest playfully with the back of your hand. “baby gojo supposedly looks like a tadpole with a tiny tail. and i won’t feel any movement for awhile.”

“so you can’t feel it move or anything?” satoru asked curiously.

“no, but i’m feeling these pregnancy symptoms.” you complained, “my boobs hurt, my heartburn is worse than usual, and the morning sickness is killing me.”

“okay, so basically, don’t touch your boobs anymore, carry extra tums for you, and hold your hair for you when you throw up in the morning. got it.” satoru noted.

you glared at him with your emerald green eyes, “please stop talking.”

wanna know how the rest of oc gojo girlfriend's pregnancy goes? read the next chapter, ‘milestones’ here.

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[sanguineterrain]

it's a feeling that's fine - s.h.

Summary: You accidentally climb the wrong fence on the hottest day of May. It turns out to be the best thing that's ever happened to you.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings/tags: no use of y/n, no physical descriptions, etc. reader is in a toxic friendship; she's slightly bullied in that indirect mean girl way, but the toxic friendship ends. reader cuts her finger by accident. drinking and drug mentions. fluff, humor, strangers to friends to lovers, summer vibes, so many princess bride references. steve is super duper sweet!!! post s4 volume 2.

A/N: so if you wondered where i've been for the last two months.... it was in a cave writing this fic. i'm really proud of this one; the reader is a little different than how i usually write, but i hope you'll like her all the same :) if you enjoy this fic, please please let me know through comments/reblogs!

divider by firefly-graphics

Today is hot. 

Weatherman Dale had said this morning that today is a record high for May. It’s so hot, in fact, that Debbie Wellerman had called you this morning asking if you wanted to come swim in her pool. 

You’d asked if you could dig for worms in her yard. She’d sighed and hung up. You hope that means yes. Joan has been in need of some company. Worms would be good for her.

You go around Debbie’s house and stop at the back gate. The Wellermans are kind of mean and they don’t like it when you take too many cucumber sandwiches. To avoid them, you’ve taken to going through the back gate whenever Debbie invites you over. It works pretty well.

Except today, the gate is locked. Which is weird, because Debbie usually leaves it open. It’s how her boyfriend, Brett, sneaks in during the day, and how Brett’s brother, Chet, sneaks in at night. 

You’d asked once why the brothers come over separately. Debbie had gotten mad and kicked you out without giving you any ice cream. You don’t ask about Brett and Chet anymore.

The problem is that you’re wearing flip flops, which are not ideal for climbing fences. Or anything, really. You once climbed a jungle gym in flip flops and skinned both knees. 

You slip off your flip flops and fling them over the fence. They land a second later, clapping against the ground. The fence is covered in climbing ivy and tiny red flowers you’ve never seen before. You wonder how Debbie made them grow so fast.

The street is empty, which is nice. Sometimes people in Loch Nora like to yell at people who don’t also live in Loch Nora. 

The fence wood is hot but not so hot that you can’t touch it. You stick your feet in the little grooves and start to climb. It’s not too high of a fence, but it’s high enough to warn people who don’t belong here.

That’s never stopped you, though.

Getting over is trickier. You expect Debbie to see you by now, but there’s no sound. She must be inside, or maybe she’s out and forgot she’s invited you. She does that sometimes.

Wood dust clings to your fingers and the soles of your feet. When you’re a foot from the ground, you hop down. Then you turn.

There’s no sign of Debbie. There is, however, a boy.

He’s reclined on an inflatable blue ring floaty in the middle of the pool. He wears sunglasses and red board shorts with little white anchors on them. 

He has very pretty hair, both on his head and chest. He also has pretty lips. And arms. All of him is pretty, really. You wish you could see his face properly. He probably has a nice face too. Symmetrical and kind.

The area around the pool is paved just like at Debbie’s—only it’s a lot larger than you remember. There's a patch of dirt next to the gate. You go and crouch at the edge. You don't see any worms. Probably because it's so hot. You'd stay underground too if you were a worm.

You stand and turn to look at the boy again. He looks like he might be asleep. 

“Did Debbie invite you?” you ask.

The boy shoots up from the floaty. The shift in weight makes him lose his balance and he topples into the water a moment later. The floaty flips with him. 

He resurfaces almost immediately, spitting water and rubbing chlorine from his eyes. You squint.

Yes, you were right. He does have a very nice face.

The water comes up to his waist. He pushes his hair back in handfuls, blinking. Then he fishes his sunglasses out with his foot and sets them on his head. 

“Can you swim?” you ask.

He stares at you, blinking.

“What?” he says after a beat. 

“Can you swim?” you repeat.

“Uh, yeah? Yes, of course I can swim.”

"It would be bad luck if you couldn’t.”

His brows furrow.

“Because I can't swim,” you clarify.

“I wouldn’t be in the pool if I couldn’t swim,” he says.

“That’s good thinking.”

You sit at the edge of the pool and dip your calves in. He wades closer until he’s about three feet away.

“How did you get here?” he asks.

“I walked.”

“I mean, how did you get in my backyard?”

“Oh. I climbed the fence.” 

You peer closer. He looks familiar, but you can’t quite place him. 

“Are you Brett and Chet’s triplet?” you ask. “You’re a lot prettier than them. Did their mother feed you extra vitamins?"

His eyes go wide. “Uh… Brett and Chet Kingsley?”

“Uh-huh. Debbie invites both of them over, but never at the same time.”

“Who's—they don’t have a triplet.”

“That’s good. Three’s bad luck.”

“My house number has a three in it,” he says.

“Don’t step on any sidewalk cracks,” you warn.

He tilts his head, tongue poking out like he’s sizing you up. You let him, focusing on his face instead. He has dark, warm eyes the color of black tea. His shoulders are toned with lots of freckles on them. He looks like a boy who’d like Debbie, not you. 

“Is Debbie going to be back soon?” you ask. You don’t want to get attached to a boy who’ll just end up wanting Debbie instead. You've made that mistake before.

“Um… if you’re talking about Debbie Wellerman, she lives on the next block over. I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Oh. You’re the guy who fought the monsters.”

He eyes you warily. “Wh—how do you know about the monsters?”

"Who doesn't?" 

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it. 

“You can’t tell anyone," he finally says. 

You shrug and kick at the water gently.

“I have no one to tell. Debbie doesn’t believe in monsters.”

“She doesn’t believe in giving you a key either, huh?”

“She doesn’t usually lock her gate,” you say. 

“Well, this isn’t her gate.”

“Yeah. I like your shorts.”

Steve’s cheeks flush pink. 

“Are you getting sunstroke?” you ask. 

That turns his cheeks pinker. 

“No, no." He coughs. "I’m fine.”

“It’s a record high temperature for May,” you say. “That’s what Weatherman Dale said. The highest it's ever been since 1923." 

“Yeah, I heard." He nods. "I didn’t wanna run the AC the whole day so, here I am. My friend Robin was supposed to come over, but I guess she bailed.”

“Robin is a nice name. Is she a bird?”

Steve smiles. “No, she’s a girl.”

“Oh. I thought maybe she was a bird you’d made friends with while fighting monsters.”

“Well.” Steve shrugs. “I did sort of make friends with her while fighting monsters.”

“Robins are good omens. They bring luck."

“Huh.”

You swallow. You’re probably talking too much. That’s what Debbie would say. That’s why boys sneak into her yard and not yours. 

"So." Steve puts a hand over his forehead to block the sun. "Debbie Wellerman, huh? You don't seem like the type to be her friend."

"Friends can come from the most unusual places," you say. "Like under a tree or at the bottom of the ocean."

"Have you made many friends at the bottom of the ocean?" Steve asks with a smile. 

You hesitate. Is he making fun of you? Sometimes, you can't tell. The people in Loch Nora are good at making fun of you without you knowing. 

Steve’s hair has already begun to dry, a little crunchy from the chlorine. He doesn’t look like he’s making fun of you.

"Not many. But that's where I found Joan," you say.

"Joan was at the bottom of the ocean?"

"Kind of. I found her in a pond. Then I found her sister, but I lost her at sea and I couldn't swim out to rescue her. It was a sad day. Joan didn't handle it well."

Steve's brows rise. "Wow. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Joan has been on the incline. I think she's finally ready to get back out there. I wanted to find her company, but I didn't want to disturb your dirt." 

“My dirt?”

“Mmhm. I'm trying to make a social club for her."

"Out of dirt?"

"Out of worms."

"Huh."

Steve rests his chin on his arm that's perched on the ledge. 

"Your hair is wavy," you observe. 

"What? Oh, yeah. I didn't put anything in it."

"Like what? Secrets?"

"No, like, gel. Product."

You nod in realization. "Your hair was so big in school.”

Steve winces. "Yeah. Sorry, I wasn't the best guy back then."

"You were in your chrysalis. You needed time to grow. But then you turned into a butterfly. Or a moth, if you prefer."

"Moths are spooky," says Steve. "They look like they have eyes on their wings."

"Yes. But they're actually friendly. Unless you eat them. Some are poisonous." You lean in, deadly serious. "Don't eat moths."

"Will do."

"No, don't. And warn your Robin too. She might think one looks delicious and meet her doom."

A smile creeps onto Steve's face. 

"You're kind of strange," he says. "In the best way possible."

"Thank you."

"Do you want some lemonade?" 

"Is it poisoned?" 

"What?" Steve startles. "No, of course not."

"No, I suppose not," you say thoughtfully. "You hadn't expected me to climb over your gate, so you wouldn't have had time to poison the lemonade."

Steve stacks one arm atop his other, looking up at you. The ends of his hair have begun to curl. You like it so much. 

"What if I pour from the pitcher right in front of you? Will that make you feel better?" he asks. 

"You can still put something in my glass," you say. "Or you might have built a tolerance to the poison for this exact moment. Like in The Princess Bride."

"I'm only twenty-one. I would've had to start very young to build a tolerance. Besides, what would be my motivation to poison you?"

You shake your head. "There's no need for motivation. Violent delights. But you've fought monsters, and Lucas Sinclair says you're a good guy. So, yes, I will have some lemonade."

Steve pushes himself out of the pool with ease, dripping water all over the concrete. You stare at the rivulets that hurry down his legs and chest. He has a lot of hair everywhere. You like that too.

He offers his hand and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Your shoulder bumps his. Steve's skin is warm. He smells like chlorine and something sweeter. Pineapple, maybe. 

"You would do very well as a knight," you say. "If I were a princess, I'd want you to commit yourself to me."

Steve makes a weird noise in his throat. 

"Uh, th-thanks," he says. 

"You're welcome."

"So you, uh, know Lucas?"

"Yes. He lives on my block. His mom gives me rides sometimes."

You step in through the sliding glass door, which puts you directly in the kitchen. The house is at least twenty degrees cooler. You shiver at the sudden temperature change. 

"You don't have a car?" Steve asks. 

"No."

"You walked from your house to Loch Nora?"

"I took the bus part of the way. Then I walked."

Steve takes two glasses down from the shelf. Then he opens the refrigerator. You sit at the large kitchen island while he pours. 

"Debbie Wellerman has a car," Steve says. 

"Uh-huh. A Porsche."

A money car, she'd called it when she got it for her sixteenth birthday. Boys love girls with money cars. Maybe that's why boys don't love you. 

Steve hands you a glass. You take a long sip. Your mouth puckers and you scrunch your eyes shut as the acid coats your tongue.

"Shit. Not enough sugar?"

You swallow and open your eyes. 

"It's wonderful, Steve," you say earnestly. 

"You don't have to lie. I saw your mouth screw up."

"I'm not lying. It's the right amount of sour." 

Steve takes his own sip. His lips pucker, and he shakes his head.

"Nope. Definitely needs more sugar."

You cradle your glass in your hands. "Don't take mine. She's perfect."

Steve breathes a laugh, returning the pitcher to the fridge. He sits beside you on the island. He's already developing a slight tan. You wonder if more freckles appear the longer he's in the sun. 

"Why doesn't Debbie pick you up?" he asks. 

"Why would she pick me up?" 

"Because that's what nice friends do. And it's unfair to expect you to come all the way here when the buses don't go through Loch Nora."

"Debbie always expects me to come over," you say. "So I do. She doesn't like my house."

Steve frowns deeply. 

"I don't mind the walk," you offer, trying to make him smile again. 

It doesn't work. Steve takes another sip. His lips purse, red like cherry candy and shiny with lemonade. 

"She should meet you halfway more often," he says, dumping his lemonade into the sink. 

You trace shapes into the condensation of your glass. 

"I wanted to go rollerblading," you say. "But…"

"But what?" he prompts. 

"She didn't. Neither did Brett. They wanted to make out in the pool.”

Steve grimaces. “Sounds like a drag.”

“They make weird noises. Like goats at the zoo.”

Steve snorts. You smile and kick your legs, pleased.

“My friends go rollerblading,” he says. “The kids love to skate at the park. You could come with us one day.”

“You have kids?”

“No, I—” Steve shakes his head, chuckling. “Definitely not. No, they’re only a few years younger than me, but me and the other people our age call them kids. They’re part of our little monster-fighting group. Anyway, uh, y'know. Open invite. If you're ever tired of goat noises."

You stare at him for a minute. He seems nervous, and you can't make out why. Nobody's ever nervous around you.

"Okay," you say. "I'd like to meet your kids."

"Cool. Well, um, I can give you my number. We usually meet up on weekends, but once school ends, any day is game."

Your heart rate picks up. You know this part. Only from a distance, of course. But you know what it means when a boy gives a girl his number. 

“You want me to call you?” you ask.

“Yeah. I mean, if you want to. I feel like it’s a little forward for me to ask the girl who climbed my fence for her number. So, um, you can call me. Is that cool?”

Steve looks at you and waits. You chew your lip and nod.

“That’s okay.”

He smiles. “Great! I think I have a pen around here somewhere…”

Steve walks around the table to a stationary caddy on the counter and takes out a blue Sharpie. You stick out your arm, palm up. 

"Uh…" He looks at you. "I can find a notepad."

"This helps me memorize things better," you say and wiggle your fingers. 

"I don't wanna give you ink poisoning."

"You didn't poison me before. You're not very good at it."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

You shrug. "Depends on your aspirations."

Steve hesitates for another second. Then he takes the top of your forearm and begins to write on the soft underside. He writes slowly, which tickles, but you remain still. 

He's so close. You're reminded all over again of his hands and warmth and pineapple scent. 

Steve caps the marker. You inspect the writing. 

"Good penmanship," you say. 

"Think so? Robin says it's chicken scratch. But she can't talk—hers is ten times worse."

"It's neat," you say. "But not serial-killer neat. If I were a graphologist, I would give you the all clear."

"Graphologist?"

"A handwriting expert. I would write in my report, 'not a murderer.'"

"Well, that's a relief," Steve says. "I try to keep the murdering to a minimum."

You hum and finish your lemonade in one gulp.

“Thank you for not poisoning me."

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Steve replies through a smile. 

His smile makes you nervous. A good nervous, though, like you're about to sled down a big hill. 

You push yourself off the stool. Steve gets up with you and opens the sliding glass door for you.

“A very stalwart knight,” you say, and walk over to where your flip flops are.

You throw them back over the gate. They land with a clack on the sidewalk.

You find your footholds on the gate and turn to look at Steve.

“It was nice to meet you, Steve Harrington. Don’t fight any monsters by yourself.”

“Whoa, hang on!” He jogs over and lightly touches your arm. It sears your skin like you've been kissed by the sun himself. “I’ll unlock the gate. You don’t need to… climb again.”

Steve pulls the latch next to you. The gate creaks open. You hop off and walk through. 

Steve leans against the gate, elbow bent. His bicep bulges. You've never been this close to a shirtless boy. Your stomach flips. 

“Are you sure you know where Debbie lives?” he asks.

Your eyes dart from his chest to his face. 

“Yes.”

“Really? ‘Cause you didn’t exactly find it the first time.”

“Second time’s the charm,” you say.

“I thought it was the third time.”

“No. Three’s bad luck, remember?”

Steve runs his tongue under his molars, once again staring at you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. You slip into your sandals while he figures you out.

“Well, um. You can come back if you get lost. Or you need help. Or you wanna look for rocks."

You tilt your head. “You’d look for rocks with me?”

“I don’t know how helpful I’d be—all rocks look the same to me. My friends would probably be better at it than me. But, yeah, I would.”

“Okay. Thank you for your hospitality.”

He grins. “Sure thing.”

You take his hand and shake it. It’s warm and slightly calloused. You wonder if he holds girls’ hands often.

"I hope Robin finds your house," you say. "Goodbye, Steve Harrington."

Then you go.

You do find Debbie’s house on the second try. You hide your Sharpie'd arm behind your back when you enter. Debbie doesn’t ask why you’re late. Brett doesn’t acknowledge you, and you wonder how you mistook Steve for his brother. 

“There’s lemonade,” Debbie says as she heads in, Brett at her heels.

You don’t drink any. You know it won’t be the right amount of sour. 

Movies are better in the summer. This is a fact you've learned to accept. 

There's no dread of the cold after you finish a movie in the summer. The tape ends and you can go outside and still love the real world. 

Sorry, we're on a break! the sign on the store window reads in loopy script. You sit on the hot curb in front of Family Video, your yellow shorts bunched around your thighs. Sweat sticks to the back of your neck, and you drag a hand across, then wipe your fingers on your shirt. 

From here, you can just see the cement-filled cracks in the asphalt, where the earthquake split the main road two years ago. Because of the cracks, the bus stops three blocks from the plaza, so you'd walked three blocks in the heat. 

You hadn't been lying to Steve, though. You really don't mind the walk. 

Beads of sweat drip down your forehead. One slips into your eye and burns. You make a fist and press it into your eyelid.

Okay. Maybe you mind a little.

"Hey, neighbor!"

You look up, squinting through the sun. Lucas Sinclair waves at you. You wave back. A girl with two red braids is next to him. 

"Hi, Lucas," you say, standing as they approach you on the curb. 

"This is my girlfriend, Max," he introduces proudly. 

"My congratulations. Getting a girlfriend is no easy feat."

Max studies you for a moment. "I think I should get the credit, considering I said yes." 

"Undoubtedly," you say. 

"Are you his neighbor?" she asks. 

"Yes. Lucas is an outstanding neighbor. You should be very proud of him." 

"I believe it," says Max. 

"What are you doing?" Lucas asks. 

"Lots of things," you say. "Breathing, digesting. But presently, I'm waiting for the video store to reopen. I want to rent The Princess Bride.”

Max snorts. "Good luck with that. Those two take five hour lunch breaks now, ever since Keith moved away. It's barely a business anymore."

"There must be a lot of courses in their lunch," you muse. 

"Yeah… uh, we're going to get ice cream. Wanna join?" asks Lucas.

"Okay." You turn to Max. "Will my presence impede your special plans?"

Max squints. "Special plans? Like what?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you've written Lucas a series of sonnets to profess your love."

"A series of what?"

"Poems."

"Love poems are corny," she says. 

You wonder if Steve would agree. 

"Sometimes corny things are good. When they come from the right person," you say. 

Max acquiesces with a hum. 

"No love poems today," she says. "You should join us."

So you follow a couple steps behind them to the Baskin-Robbins down the block. 

The AC whooshes as you step inside, drying your sweat to your forehead. 

“Wow,” Max says with a scoff. “It’s like Starcourt all over again.”

You follow her gaze and spot Steve. 

Oh. Steve.

He's in a green Family Video vest. A girl sits across from him, wearing a matching vest. She has cropped hair and a bandaid on one knee. 

“Hey, losers!” Max calls. “This isn’t a lunch break.”

The girl flips her off. “The sign says we’re taking a break. It doesn’t specify how long of a break.”

Lucas orders a scoop of strawberry ice cream for himself and a scoop of cookies and cream for Max. 

“Yeah, plus, we’ve had a grand total of one customer today,” Steve adds.

“Well, you would’ve had two if you hadn’t been here on your seventeen hour break,” Max shoots back.

He scoffs. “Oh, really? Who?”

“Can I get one scoop of rocky road ice cream with oreo crumble and gummy worms in a cup?” you ask the cashier. 

She goes to scoop the ice cream. Max proudly points at you. 

“Her,” she says with a smirk. “She wanted to rent The Princess Bride, and now she’s not gonna be a paying customer ‘cause you two are lazy.”

“I would still be a paying customer,” you say.

Max shakes her head at you.

“I’m trying to make a point,” she whispers.

“Oh. You’re doing great."

“Your total is three twenty-four,” the cashier says, sticking a spoon into your cup. 

The sound of a chair being dragged across the floor draws your attention. Steve is up, trying to free his leg from under the table. He finally wiggles free and jogs to the counter, wallet in hand.

"Hi,” he says. "I can pay." 

“But I have money,” you say, brows knitting.

“No, I know. I—now you can save your money. Do you–do you mind if I pay for you?”

“Will I have to pay you back?” you ask.

“Oh my God,” the cashier mutters under her breath.

You shrink at her tone. You've missed something, evidently. You have no clue what. 

Steve glances at her, mouth pinching. 

“No,” he says gently, turning back to you. “You don’t have to pay me back. It’s a gesture. As a friend.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

Steve gives her the money. You take your ice cream. 

“Smooth,” you hear Max say to Steve. He bumps her arm with his elbow.

Steve pulls a chair from another table for you. You all sit down.

"This is, uh…" Steve trails off, turning to you. "I'm sorry, I never got your name."

"You kept calling her Buttercup," the girl says. 

Steve whips his head around to hiss at her. 

"Robin." 

"She's my neighbor," Lucas says. 

"We know," Max tells him. 

"I don't." Robin raises her hand briefly, shooing Steve away. "I'm Robin Buckley."

"Hi, Robin. Watch out for moths," you say. 

She tilts her head and smiles. You look at Steve, who's already looking at you. 

"Princess Buttercup?" you ask. 

"Well." He rubs the back of his neck. "Y-Yeah, kinda. You mentioned The Princess Bride and, uh, I don’t know your name, so…”

You mull that over. 

"If I'm Buttercup, you must be Westley." 

Steve's eyes widen. "Uh…" 

Robin snickers. Max smirks. 

"Interesting shade of red you're turning, Westley," Robin says. 

"Shut—"

He kicks her chair leg. She yelps and shoves him in retaliation. Max rolls her eyes. 

"Have some class, will you?" she says. 

"I'm classy!" Steve insists. 

"Not anymore," Lucas says gravely. "Now you're a glorified babysitter." 

"Childcare is dutiful work," you say. 

Steve grins at you. Your stomach flutters.

“Is that a mud pie?” he asks. 

You nod. 

“Gummy worms?” 

You tilt your head. “How did you know?”

Steve chuckles. “Lucky guess.”

Across the table, the others argue about the classiest ice cream flavors.

“It’s obviously mango sorbet.”

“Sorbet isn’t ice cream!”

“Are they your kids?” you ask.

Steve leans in so you can talk in his ear. His arm is on the back of your chair. If you shift the slightest inch, you’d feel him.

“Minus Robin. Though, sometimes…” He rolls his eyes playfully. “But, um, yeah. Two of them.”

“How many kids do you have?” you ask.

“Let’s see…” Steve counts on his fingers. “Six?”

“Wow. You must be some babysitter.”

“I’m alright.”

You lean in. Steve blinks.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“You have an eyelash.” 

You swipe the hair off his cheek and hold your finger in front of his mouth.

“You have to make a wish.”

Steve’s eyes slide to you. He gently holds your hand in place. Your heart beats faster.

“‘Kay.” He blows the eyelash away, but doesn't release your hand. “Let’s see if it comes true.”

The numbers stare at you. Taunt you, really.

You practically have them memorized. You’d written them thirty times on a piece of notebook paper. Then you’d shoved that under your bed. 

Now you have it taped to your dresser mirror. 

You wish you could talk to Joan about it, but she’s bathing in the sink after an unfortunate encounter with a paint can. 

The Sharpie is gone from your arm, has been gone for several days now. But if you concentrate, you can see its silhouette on your skin. 

You get up and peel the paper off the mirror. Then you go down the hall to your phone. 

Carefully, you dial, making sure not to press any wrong buttons. 

The phone rings. You rock on your toes.

“Hello?” Steve says.

You freeze. 

“Hellooo…?”

“Hi,” you finally say. “It’s Buttercup.”

“Oh!” He sounds so happy. “Hey! Hey, how are you?”

“Good.” You chew on a cuticle. “It’s Saturday.”

“Oh, right! Did you wanna go rollerblading?”

Relief floods you. He remembers.

“Yes. If you’re planning it.”

“I haven’t talked to the kids, but I’m sure they’d be down.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “I can pick you up in twenty?"

“I can walk.”

“C’mon, in the sun? You live on the same street as Lucas anyway, don’t worry about it.”

“Well.” You twirl the telephone cord around your finger so tightly, it threatens to cut off your circulation. “Okay… if it’s no trouble.”

“It’s no trouble,” Steve promises. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

You hang up and run to your room to dig for your skates. They’re stuffed under your bed next to a mini gumball machine. You shove two green gumballs in your mouth and race to the bathroom to check on Joan, nearly slipping on the wood.

“I’m going out, Joan. I think he might… he might like me.” You crunch on the gumball shells and shudder. “What a terrifying thought.”

You pull out the drain stopper and set Joan on a washcloth to dry. Then you go down the hall to put on your sneakers. 

Steve arrives five minutes early. You only know that because you spend the whole time watching the road from your curtained window. You shake your hands out, overwhelmed with nerves. 

It’s just a boy. He’s only a boy. 

The two of you meet halfway. Steve jogs backwards, unusually skillful, and opens the passenger door for you.

“Hey. Does Joan want to come?” Steve asks. 

You shake your head. “She’s having a spa day. It’s just me.”

“Well, I’m happy to have you,” he says, sweet and earnest. 

You duck inside the car and shake your hands a little, trying to fend off the returning nerves. Just a boy.

“So, that’s El,” Steve says as he gets into the driver’s seat, pointing to a girl with short curls. “And you know Max and Lucas.”

Max nods at you with a smile. Lucas waves.

“Hi, El,” you say. “Cool hair.”

“Thank you,” she says, voice soft. “I like your skates.”

“I found them at a yard sale. You can find anything in a yard.”

"Okay," Steve says. "Everybody buckled?" 

“Yes, Mom,” Max mumbles. 

Steve catches your gaze and rolls his eyes. You smile.

Briefly, you worry you’ll have to fill the silence and talk about yourself, like people expect you to. But Steve and the kids hold conversation easily. They talk about anything and everything. 

They're more energetic than you're used to; Debbie always prefers it to be quiet. 

But you don't mind it. You don’t feel lonely like you do when you’re with Debbie.

“Alright, please stay within this area,” Steve says when he parks and everyone gets out. “Within—”

“Shouting distance!” Max yells. “Yeah, we know!”

The park isn't crowded. Most of the paths are clear, so skating will be no problem. 

Max gets out two skateboards from the trunk. 

“Max is going to teach me how to do an ollie,” El informs you. “Would you like to join us?”

“Maybe later,” you say. “I want to master my yard skates.”

She nods and follows the others to the small skate park on the other side of the trees. 

You bring your skates to a bench and sit, lacing them up your feet. Steve is a few feet away, swinging his arms slightly.

“Aren’t you going to join them?” you ask.

“Oh, uh, no. I brought my own skates… I thought maybe we could skate together, if that’s okay?”

“Yes, I would like that,” you say. 

Steve beams. “Alright, cool. I’ll go get mine.”

You stand, about to take a step forward—and immediately slip.

Steve reacts instantly, lunging to catch you. One hand grabs your elbow, the other on your stomach. You squeal and cling to his shirt. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, helping you stand upright.

“I’m okay,” you say, breath caught in your throat.

You take a step but your foot wobbles. Steve grabs you again. You don’t try to take another step.

“I thought skating would be intuitive,” you say, rolling one skate to test.

“What?” 

You look up. Steve’s face is inches from yours. His hair is golden in the sunshine. His eyes lock on your own; his focus sends a jolt of electricity down your spine.

“You know, like how babies are able to swim for the first six months of their lives?”

“Uh…” Steve tilts his head. “No?”

“Oh. Because they were in the womb, they have that ability. ‘Cause they float around in there for nine months, you know? But then they lose it. That’s why we have to learn how to swim.”

“Wow. That’s a cool fact.”

Nobody ever thinks your facts are cool. But Steve does.

“Well, I thought skating would be similar,” you say. “I’ve watched other people skate, so I thought I’d just… do it. I guess I lost that at six months too.”

Steve’s smiling. It’s a gentle smile, though. Not a teasing smile. 

“I see,” he says. “I’m sorry for your disappointment.”

“It’s alright. Life is far more than disappointment. No use getting hung up on it.”

“Do you want me to teach you how to skate?” he asks. “I promise I’m good at it. Coach Collins said I could’ve seriously pursued it.”

“So skating for you is like avoiding death for Westley,” you say.

“Actually, I’m pretty good at avoiding death too,” Steve says. “And making grilled cheeses.”

“Triple threat.”

He ducks his head with a laugh, and you feel the warmth of it flow through your own body.

“Sure. Can’t make lemonade for shit, though.”

“I think your lemonade is perfect, Steve Harrington.”

His cheeks are scarlet again. It’s quickly becoming your favorite color.

“I would like it if you taught me,” you say.

“Okay. I’ll get my skates after you get the hang of it. Put your hand on my arm, right here.”

Steve pats his forearm. Carefully, you do as he says. 

“I’m nervous,” you confess. 

“I got you,” Steve says, cheek brushing your head. “I won’t let you fall, Buttercup.”

Saint Aloysius’ parking lot has the best rocks. 

You've never told anybody as much because you imagine the lot would get busy, and you like it empty.

Today, you're searching for a brother for Joan. Ever since that tragic day at Macinaw Island, Joan's been very lonely. It‘s hard being a sisterless sister. 

Joan is smooth and round, so you look for an equally smooth and round brother. Commonality is important. 

Your knees hurt from squatting, so you sit. The rocks poke your butt. 

You hear a car rolling up the hill, engine a soft purr. You stop and turn. 

The car is maroon and shiny, with only a couple slight scratches you can't notice unless you look really hard. You don't recognize the license plate, although you have yet to start your record of Hawkins plates. 

It putters to a stop in front of Giovanni's Bakery across the street. The car doors open. 

"I'm losing my edge, Robs! I made a damn fool of myself. I can't even—"

"Okay, first of all, I feel like we're glossing over the fact that you don't even know this girl. And what she did was technically trespassing."

"Do you know her name?" another voice pipes up. 

"No, Dustin, I don't know her name. I don't even know if she lives in Hawkins!"

Their voices disappear as they go inside the bakery. You find Joan a brother, Jack, and Jack finds a wife named Gwen. Gwen isn't smooth and round; she's sharp-edged and will be harder to clean, but she's a muted salmon color and you think she's pretty. You hope Jack will find her pretty too.

As you dig through the pile of rocks, your finger catches on the edge of a broken bottle. It slices your finger. Blood swells immediately. 

You put your new rocks in your plastic red pail with your other hand. Then you stand, joints popping as you do so. You stick your ribs out and bend your spine in a stretch. 

You cross the street to the bakery, pail in hand. The bell jingles as you enter. You hum the ding-dong under your breath. 

"Can I help you?" the man behind the counter asks.

"Hello. Can I have five baci di dama and five of the raspberry sandwich cookies?"

He goes to the display case with a paper bag. You rest your elbows on the counter, pail handles over your arm. 

"Anything else?"

"Yes. Do you have a bandaid? I'm bleeding."

The man purses his lips. "No bandaid, sorry."

"That's okay. Just the cookies, then." 

"Buttercup?"

You turn. Steve stands before you, wearing his Family Video vest. Robin is beside him, her hair piled into a windblown bun on her head. Another boy, shorter than both, younger, is with them. He waves at you, curls bouncing. 

You wave back. Robin squeals.

"Oh my God, what happened to your finger?" she asks, horrified. 

"There was a broken bottle in the parking lot."

"Jesus," Steve says. He takes your hand and inspects it. He's so close and warm. All you can do is stare at the freckles on his neck. 

“Why were you in the parking lot?” he asks.

“I was looking for rocks. This is the best rock spot in all of Hawkins. Well, after Lover’s Lake. But the pH has been abnormally high there. Probably because of the monsters. So I came here.”

"Hi, I'm Dustin," the boy introduces. “Is your finger okay?”

"Hi, Dustin. I think I’ll survive,” you say. “Dustin means brave warrior in Norse.”

Dustin beams. “Yup. I was named after my grandfather. He served in World War Two.”

"Names are important,” you say. “Joan agonized for days deciding what I should call her. Eventually, I decided for her. A name says a lot about a person. Steve has a warrior and good luck at his side."

"Yep, Steve-o here is pretty blessed to have us. And," he gestures to you, "You are?"

"Hungry," you say, taking your bag of cookies with your free hand. 

The bag crinkles as you open it. You hold it out to Steve. 

"Do you want one? I promise they’re blood-free.”

"Uh…” He glances at your hand. “Are you sure your finger is okay?”

“She’s a trooper. Survived ink poisoning and everything.” You wave the bag again. “Cookie?” 

Steve takes a baci di dama out and pops it into his mouth. He hums as he chews, nodding. 

"'S good," he says after he swallows.

"Baci di dama means lady's kisses in Italian," you say. 

His cheeks turn pink again. 

"You should drink more water," you add. "You turn pink easily."

Robin snorts. Steve holds a hand to his cheek. 

"Uh, thanks."

“You’re welcome. Robin, would you like a cookie?" 

"No, thanks,” she says. “I'm picking up a tiramisu for my mom's birthday."

"I want a cookie!" Dustin says. 

"Dude," Steve hisses. 

You hold the bag open to Dustin. He takes a raspberry sandwich cookie. 

"So," Dustin says, mouth full. "Are you Steve’s girlfriend or something?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you say.

“Du-ude!” Steve says too loudly, voice climbing in pitch.

“What? You talk about her all the freakin’ time. I needed to know.”

You look at Steve. He rubs the back of his neck and half-smiles.  

“Anyway,” continues Dustin. “How do you know Steve?”

"I climbed over his gate by accident on the hottest day of May,” you say.

"By accident?" 

"Yes. All the gates in Loch Nora look the same. Except Steve's gate has climbing ivy and little red flowers. It's much nicer than the other houses. It looks like a person lives there. I mistook it for Debbie's gate." 

Robin tilts her head at you. You don't care what Steve says; she's a one hundred percent bonafide bird. 

Dustin points to your pail, crumbs all over his chin. "Why do you have rocks?"

"They're for Joan," you say.

"Joan? Is she your friend?"

"She's more like my confidante. She doesn't talk much, so I think it'd be presumptuous of me to call her a friend when I have no idea where we stand." 

"Navigating friendships can be hard," Steve offers. 

"Yes," you say. "They can be."

"Being straightforward can help a lot," he continues. "It, uh, at least helped me. That way the other person knows what you mean. No room for miscommunication."

You nod. "That's good advice. I'll have to try that with Joan. Sometimes she can be kind of hard-headed."

You roll up your bag of cookies and reposition your pail on your arm so the metal doesn't dig into your skin. 

"It was nice to meet you, Dustin," you say. "Goodbye, Steve and Robin."

"Wait!"

Steve holds the door for you and follows you out. He still smells sweet, like pineapple, and also a little woody. He touches the small of your back, sending a bolt of electricity down your spine.

"I have a first aid kit in my car. Let me wrap your cut."

"Oh." You'd forgotten about it. "Okay."

You follow Steve to his car. He pops the trunk and rummages. You spot a bat with nails. 

"Very inventive," you say, pointing at the bat. 

Steve laughs shyly. "Yeah, uh, the monsters."

"I definitely wouldn't want to fight you if I were a multi-dimensional monster."

He smiles and takes out a small spray bottle of disinfectant. 

"This is gonna sting, okay? But we need to make sure nothing gets infected."

"An infection would be unfortunate," you say. "I'm quite attached to this finger." 

He sprays and cleans your finger. You wince and Steve squeezes your wrist in apology. Then he pulls out bandaids. 

"Any preference? I have rainbow, Star Wars, 'cause they're all a bunch of nerds, cats… oh, I have flowers! ‘Cause you’re, uh, Buttercup, you know?" 

"Flowers," you say, because Steve's so excited about it. 

He nods and opens the bandaid. You hold out your finger and Steve carefully wraps it. He rubs your knuckle. 

"Thank you," you say. 

"You're welcome. Be careful, okay?"

"I will."

He closes the trunk, swinging his keys on his finger. 

"Sorry if that was awkward, by the way," he says. "Dustin, I mean. He can be… blunt." 

"It wasn't awkward."

“It wasn’t?”

“No,” you say. “I’m happy you tell people about me. I tell Joan about you all the time.”

"Oh." He nods. "That—that’s good. So… we’re both… uh—”  

"Do you want another lady's kiss?"

"What? Oh—" Steve clears his throat. "N-no, that's okay. Thanks."

You take out a raspberry cookie and bite into it. 

"Your hair has product," you observe. 

"Yeah. No secrets, though."

"Everybody's hair has secrets."

"Even yours?" he asks. 

"Especially mine." 

Steve rubs the back of his neck. You open your bag and take out another cookie. He looks like he's trying to find the right words to say. You don't mind waiting. 

"Hey, do you like barbecue?" he asks. 

"I like it as well as anybody else."  

"Well, um, I'm having a barbecue this Saturday. Lucas won a big championship game and so we're celebrating his win."

"That's nice," you say. "Congratulations to Lucas."

"Yeah! So, um, did you maybe want to come too? It'll be at my house. You could bring a friend if you wanted. Like Joan."

"Joan is a vegetarian," you say. "But I'm sure she'd enjoy the company."

Steve smiles. He has such a pretty smile. 

"We're ordering pizza too, so Joan can have some of that."

"You're a very thoughtful host.”

Then you have a terrible thought. But you have to ask it because if you don't, you might be breaking some kind of invisible expectation. You do that a lot. 

"Does Debbie have to come?" you ask. 

Steve blinks. "Uh, no? It's not a requirement."

"Some people ask me to parties because they want Debbie to come." 

Steve frowns. "That's rude. I wouldn't do that."

"Okay. What time does the barbecue begin?"

"You can stop by anytime. But we'll probably start eating around six."

You nod. "Joan and I will be there at five thirty."

Steve's answering grin is blinding. He must be really excited to meet Joan. You get it; Joan's the life of any party she attends. 

"Great, that's great. I'll see you then."

"Bye, Steve," you say. 

"Bye," he answers like he's out of breath. 

Even the way he breathes is pretty.

Every month, Miles Stanwick throws a party. 

Miles is a celebrity in Hawkins, his father being a state senator, and Miles is, according to a drunk Debbie, “the Gatsby to her Daisy.”

You're pretty sure Debbie hasn't read the book. Or maybe she's a living tragedy. Either is possible. 

It had been just you two in her room, without the Other Debbie she pretends to be to impress the people of Loch Nora, when she'd told you what it meant to be in love. 

"You just know," she'd said, her breath reeking of tequila.

You'd turned your head. Tequila made your nose itch. 

"But you love Brett," you'd said. 

"Brett is who I'll marry," she'd corrected. She’d sounded so sad. "Miles is all I've got."

Then she'd thrown up all over her carpet. You'd helped her into bed and made a mental note to find her a friend like Joan to keep her company, for when you weren't around. 

You don't like parties. They're loud and smelly and usually filled with people you don't like or don't know. And at a party, people you don't like and people you don't know are one and the same. 

You would leave, but Debbie is your ride tonight. So you're stuck here until midnight, maybe even later. 

Someone plugs in a karaoke machine and that gets most of the party's attention. The music is horribly loud and is the kind that’s just a lot of synthesizer. 

A guy jumps onto the Stanwicks' coffee table and knocks over the potpourri dish. Dried petals and orange peels scatter across the carpet. 

Debbie appears in front of you, a red Solo cup in her hand. 

"What did I bring you here for?" she asks, mouth curled. "To slump on the couch?"

"No one here wants to talk," you say. 

Debbie rolls her eyes. "Parties aren't for talking. They're for drinking and making out. Someone's rolling a blunt in the den. Go suck on that, will you?"

The people in Loch Nora are so good at making you feel two inches tall. You wish you'd brought Joan. She'd know what to do. 

You've tried alcohol before. Champagne at a wedding. A sip of rum from the Wellermans' liquor cabinet, back when Debbie wasn't so caught up in being just like everyone else. 

Maybe it's your fault, too. Maybe you're too good at standing out. 

You go to the kitchen. It's already trashed. You step over a spill on the floor. Then you turn around and lay down some paper towels so no one will slip. 

There are various bottles of strong liquor strewn across the counters. You decide to try the punch and fill your cup to the top. You sniff it and your nose wrinkles at the whiff of alcohol. 

You so badly want to have fun. You want to know what makes all of this worth it. You want your friendship with Debbie to be worth it. 

You down the punch in one go. It makes you cough and you scramble for water at the sink. You wonder if the punch is poisoned. 

You wobble out of the kitchen a couple minutes later, head already woozy. A girl stands with a drink, one arm folded. 

"Where's Debbie?" you ask. The girl winces and steps away from you. 

"She went with Miles and some other people to the lake."

Your eyes widen. "No, they can't. There's monsters."

She looks at you like you might be an insect splattered on her dashboard. 

"You're Debbie's weird friend, aren't you?"

Weird doesn't make you feel good, like Steve calling you strange did. Weird makes you feel like when a boy in sixth grade stepped on your heels while going up the stairs because he thought it was funny. 

"Debbie would've told me," you say. 

The girl shrugs. "Guess she ditched you. She can't score with Miles if you're killing the vibe." 

Weird tastes like poison in your mouth. 

"Debbie was my ride," you say, but she’s already gone.

Your head aches. You try to think on what to do next. It's nearly midnight. No one is awake, and you have no idea how to call a cab. 

You find the Stanwicks' phone in the hall and dial the only number you know, besides your own, and the local pizzeria. 

"Hello?" 

You lean against the wall, phone in both hands. 

"Uh, hello? Who is this?" 

"H-hi, Westley." Your voice cracks. 

"Hey," Steve says, unbearably gentle. "My favorite rock girl. Jesus, it's… midnight."  

"I'm sorry," you say. 

"No, no, it's alright. I'm just—is everything okay? Are you okay?" 

"Debbie ditched me."

Silence. For a moment, you panic that the line's dropped.

"Steve?"

"Where are you?" 

"I'm, um, at Miles Stanwick's. The address is… well, I don't remember, but I'll go outside and look for the house number—"

"I know it," Steve says. "Stay right there. I'm coming to get you. Don't drink any more."

Your lip wobbles. "'Kay."

"It's okay," he soothes. "Drink some water. Don't take anything from anybody." 

"I just wanted to be fun," you blurt. 

"You are fun, Buttercup. Way more fun than anybody at that house, I guarantee it. I'll be there in ten minutes, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Steve," you say, no longer feeling so small. 

You hang up and go to the kitchen to get more water from the sink. Then you return to the hallway and sit, back against the wall, knees tucked into your chest. 

You doze, lids heavy from the alcohol. The next thing you know are two hands on your arms. 

You jolt awake. One hand cradles the back of your head so you don't thump it against the wall. 

"Hey, hey." Steve kneels in front of you. He brushes your cheek with a cool knuckle. "It's me, it's Steve. Are you okay?"

His hands are cool against your overheated skin. He smells like lemon shampoo. 

"My knight," you say. 

"I thought Westley was a pirate."

“He was only pretending." 

You let Steve ease you up. His car keys dig into your hip.

"Ow," you say dazedly. 

"What? What hurts?"

"Keys."

"Oh." Steve shifts you to his opposite side, hand on your back. "Sorry, honey." 

"Honey never spoils," you say. "Did you know that? You could dig up honey from a tomb that's thousands of years old and as long as it was stored in an airtight container, it's good to eat."

"I love that you know that." 

"Do you really?" 

"I really do," Steve says. "C’mon, let's get you home." 

Outside, the moon is a dot of cream in the purple sky. The neighborhood is quiet. Most of the houses are also dark. 

"I'm sorry for calling you so late," you say. 

"Don't be. I'm glad you called me. These parties can get out of hand."

"Debbie left. She went to Lover's Lake with Miles—"

The panic returns, flooding your body. You squirm and Steve tries to keep you steady. 

"Whoa, what's—"

"The monsters! There's monsters down there, Steve. I don't like Miles, but I don't want him to be eaten!"

"No, no, no more monsters," Steve assures you. "They can't come through there anymore."

You still. "Promise?"

"I promise."

He helps you into the passenger seat of his car. Steve leans in and pulls the seat belt over you.

"Comfy?" he asks. 

"I like you so much, Steve Harrington."

It's too dark to tell, but you suspect he's got another case of sunstroke. 

"I, um, like you too, Buttercup. You're really cool."

"Me?" You wave your hand. "No."

"Really," he insists. "You are. The coolest."

If you were Debbie, if you weren't weird in the wrong way, if you didn't go to parties to talk, and if you fit a million other criteria you never will, Steve would kiss you right now. Or maybe you'd kiss him. 

But you don't know how to go about that. You don't think it's your right to do such a thing. 

So Steve shuts the door and walks around to the driver's seat. You stare at your flower bandaid.

"Four three's," Steve says as he turns the ignition. 

You turn your head. "Hmm?"

"The house number. Four three's. That's gotta be, like, astronomically bad luck, right?"

"Without a doubt."

Except you're here with Steve Harrington, and he calls you honey and thinks you're cool. And that doesn't seem like bad luck at all. 

"I'm going to a barbecue," you call out. 

There's no reply. You close the door behind you.

Joan sits in your pocket. You've tied a purple ribbon around her head, right above her googly eyes. You don't know what the dress code is for a barbecue, but you hope she's not underdressed.

You haven’t spoken to Steve since Miles’ party. You’re not sure what you should say, and you can’t bear the thought of calling him to hear silence. 

Even if he doesn’t like you the way you like him, you hope he’ll still be friends with you. Steve and his kids have grown on you. You don’t know if you can go back to who you were before the hottest day of May. 

“Material Girl” plays from inside Steve's backyard. You mouth the words as you fling your flip flops over the gate. 

"What the fuck?" someone says from the other side. 

You climb the gate and shimmy down. It's a good thing you're wearing shorts under your dress.

A boy, lanky and tall but probably Lucas's age, holds one of your flip flops. He stares at you and shakes the shoe. 

"Is this yours?"

"Both of them are," you say. "Does Steve like Madonna?"

He grimaces. "Unfortunately."

"Cool."

You spot Steve sitting on one of the deck chairs with Robin and a boy your age with big, curly hair and a Led Zeppelin shirt with cropped sleeves. 

"Venus" plays next and you wobble in time with the music as you walk over to Steve. 

"Her weapons were her crystal eyes," you whisper. The pavement is warm under your toes. 

"Making every man mad." 

Steve turns just as you reach him. He stands so fast he shakes the chair. 

"Hey!" he says. He sounds out of breath again. "Hey, you came."

"You invited me," you say. 

"Yeah, yes." Steve nods. "I did. I'm glad you're here."

"You play good music."

"Ha!" Steve whips his head to look at the curly haired boy. "Suck it, Munson."

"She's obviously biased." 

"Munson," you say. "Eddie Munson?"

Eddie freezes under your gaze. Robin and Steve glance at you. 

"Yeah, uh, that's me." Eddie smiles weakly. "Look, you might've heard some stuff abou—"

"You helped fight the monsters," you interrupt. "You're very brave." 

Eddie's eyes widen. "I—"

"Most people just like to ignore monsters. It takes a really good person to fight them." You turn to Steve. "Do you have orange Fanta?" 

"Yeah, sure. I'll get you a can. Feel free to sit… where are your shoes?"

You point behind you. "Your bodyguard had to screen them after I climbed your gate. You have very tight security."

"After you climbed my… wait, Mike? God, I’m sorry about him. I'll get your shoes back."

"It's okay. Flip flops are dangerous weapons. It's only a matter of time before the airport bans them." 

Steve tilts his head, eyes warm. "Right. I'll be back. That's Eddie and Robin… you know them."

"I know their names, and that's about all you can know about anybody."

Eddie giggles. You look at him. He doesn't seem to be laughing at you, so you sit where Steve was sitting, across from Eddie's chair. You point at his shirt. 

"I like Kashmir."

"Thank God! Somebody with decent tastes."

"I'll listen to anything," you say. "It's important to be a good listener."

Eddie grins. "Words of the wise."

"Where's Joan?" Robin asks. 

"Right here." You take Joan out of your pocket and set her down on the edge of the pool chair. 

"Sick," Eddie says.

You nod. "The ribbon was my pick."

"I like it," Robin says. 

"Thank you."

Steve returns with an orange Fanta for you and a root beer for Robin. 

Robin points to Joan. "Steve, this is the famous Joan we've heard so much about."

"That's a rock," says Steve. 

"Yep."

"Oh." He nods in understanding. "Joan is your pet rock?"

"Confidante," you correct. "’Pet’ is demeaning."

"Got it. And was Joan's sister also your confidante?"

"No. Joan's sister didn't like me much. She thought I was a bad influence on Joan. But we shouldn't talk about it now. Joan gets very sad when I bring it up."

You open your can. The carbonation hisses. It's itchy and sweet on your tongue. 

"I like your hair," you say. "It's fluffy. Like it was on the hottest day of May."

Steve pushes a couple strands behind his ear.

"Thanks. The gel is too much on hot days like these. Weighs me down."

"At least you won't float away." You look at Eddie. "Is your hair full of secrets too?"

Eddie ruffles his hair. "Not as many as Steve's, but I've got a couple in here. 'S what gives my curls volume." 

"Hm. Just as I suspected," you say. 

"Ste-eve!" Dustin whines from across the yard. "You promised burgers!"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You'd think he's never been fed in his life."

Eddie pats his shoulder. "You've got this, Harrington."

"Oh, no. You wanna eat, you've gotta earn your keep. Come on."

Eddie groans, flinging himself off the chair. "Save me, Buckley!"

"Already did that," she says, pulling her sunglasses onto her eyes. "Never again." 

"You should tie up your hair so it doesn't catch fire," you suggest. 

"Well, at least somebody cares about me," Eddie declares, pulling his hair into a ponytail. 

Steve turns to you and smiles softly. 

"Are you hungry? You can have the first pick of the burgers."

"Won't Dustin be annoyed?"

Steve shrugs. "Kid could use some manners. Besides, pretty girls always get the first pick. It's the law." 

You follow Steve and Eddie to the grill, pretty girl echoing in your brain the whole time. 

Eddie's hair doesn't catch on fire and Steve makes you a perfect burger. The sun sparkles on the pool surface. The kids come out to eat and, predictably, Dustin complains about not getting the first burger.

"Not fair. Just 'cause she's your girlfriend," he mumbles as he goes off to search for the mustard. 

You check to see if Steve had heard the comment. He doesn't seem to have; you can't decide if you're relieved or not. 

The chairs are all taken by the time you finish fixing up your burger. Steve stands immediately as you approach.

“Here, take my seat,” he says.

“We can share,” you offer.

Steve lets you take the back of the chair, settling at the foot. “You Make My Dreams Come True” plays on the speakers. 

“Whoever made this mixtape is a genius,” you announce.

“You like it?” says Steve. “I actually made this one. Robin and Eddie think my taste sucks, but—”

“It’s spectacular.”

He hums, ducking his head shyly. “Well, speaking of spectacular: I made more lemonade, if you want to test it before I unleash it upon the masses.”

“I’ll happily drink your lemonade,” you say. “It’ll build my iocane tolerance.”

Steve grins. “I rented The Princess Bride, by the way. I know you meant to get it a few weeks ago. We can watch it tonight, if you want.”

“You remembered I wanted to watch it,” you say.

He nods. “Well, uh, yeah. Do you still want to? If you don’t, I can—”

“I do,” you say. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Steve stands, hand outstretched so you’ll give him your empty plate. “I’m going inside. Anybody want anything?”

“Doritos!” Robin shouts.

“Napkins, please,” El says.

“Cherry Coke!” Mike calls.

“Beer!” Eddie whoops.

“Doritos, napkins, got it. The cooler is right there, Wheeler, and are you kidding, Eddie? No drinking by the pool. Have we not learned our lesson from the last four years?”

“Bold of you to assume I’ve learned anything, Steven.”

“Can you bring us popsicles?” Max asks. “Lemon and grape.”

“Ooh, popsicles sound good,” says Robin. “Bring me one too. Fruit punch.”

Steve sighs, lifting his arms.

“Two hands, guys. Only got two.”

“I can help,” you offer.

“Now that’s a great idea,” Robin says. “The two of you in the kitchen, alone. Really brilliant, don’t you think, Steve?”

Steve glares at her. Then he turns to you, expression softening.

“That’d be great, thank you.”

You follow him into the kitchen. It looks exactly like the last time you were here, except for the food. Steve opens the freezer and digs through the box of popsicles. Then he takes the pitcher of lemonade out of the fridge and sets it on the counter.

“Can you get the Doritos?” he asks. “They’re up there.”

You open a shelf over the stove. The chips are at the very top. You try jumping; all that does is bang your ribs into the counter.

"Whoa, whoa.”

Steve’s hand rests on your back. Your stomach swoops. 

"Easy, Buttercup. I’ll get it, sorry ‘bout that."

You frown. "The Doritos have eluded me."

"They’re a tricky bunch," he says, reaching and successfully grabbing the chips.

"I knew you’d best me and succeed."

"Best you?" 

"Yes," you say. "Like in a duel."

Steve tilts his head, a tiny crinkle forming in the center of his brows. 

"Are we going to duel? Like Inigo and Westley?"

"Not if I can help it," you say. "I'm terrible with a sword."

"I would never try to sword fight you." 

"I appreciate that."

His hand slips from your back. You watch it fall to his side.

“Feel free to help yourself to whatever you want,” Steve says as he takes a glass out of the cupboard. “You can also take food home.”

You exhale through your nose and wiggle your fingers a little, trying to stave off the nerves. You wish Joan was in your pocket right now, but you left her on the deck chair. 

“Buttercup?” 

You look up. Steve has a glass of lemonade in one hand. The top button of his polo shirt is undone. Was it always undone? You can’t remember. 

Anyway, he’s beautiful. And you’re so damn strange.

“Yes, Westley?”

Steve smiles. You don’t think anyone has ever smiled at you as much as Steve does. 

“Everything okay?” he asks.

He puts the glass in front of you. You glance at it, then back at him.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I won’t force you to drink my crappy lemonade if you don’t want to, y’know.”

“You called me strange,” you blurt. “When we first met.”

Steve’s eyes widen. 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he says softly. “But I won’t call you that anymore if you don’t like it.”

“No, I–I know you didn’t mean it in a bad way. But…”

He nods, encouraging you to continue.

“I’m not like Debbie,” you say. 

“I know.”

“I’ll probably never be like Debbie.”

“I much prefer you as yourself,” he says.

“Oh.”

You sip your lemonade. Your lips pucker but you smile all the same.

“Damn,” Steve says with a chuckle. “I really can’t nail that lemonade, huh?”

“It’s wonderful,” you whisper. 

He takes a step forward. You set the glass on the counter.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“I would very much like that.”

Steve’s lips are slightly chapped. You taste like lemonade and he tastes like Coke and God, you like it so much.

You loop your arms around his neck like you’ve wanted to do for weeks. He returns in kind, both hands slipping to your waist. 

It’s not just a boy kissing you. It’s Steve.

The sliding glass door whooshes open and you jerk your head back in surprise. Max and Dustin trod in. 

Dustin shrieks. 

“Seriously? This is what was taking you so long?”

“If you were gonna do that, we would’ve gotten the popsicles ourselves,” Max says with a huff, grabbing the popsicles and chips from the counter. 

“Told ya they were making out!” comes Eddie’s voice from outside. “I warned you, kiddies!”

They clear out, with one last stink eye from Dustin. Steve shakes his head, nose pressed to your cheek.

“Again, very sorry about them.”

“They wanted to check in on their favorite babysitter,” you say.

Steve lifts his head and rolls his eyes. “I need a padlock or something.”

You hum and lean over to unwrap a popsicle. 

“Oh,” you say. “Three left.”

“Three popsicles?”

“Mmhm.”

“Well, that explains it. Astronomical bad luck, right?”

“Actually,” you say, leaning in for another kiss. “I think my theory was wrong.”

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

hi it's the good omens mascot here's some shit about me that might be relevant

I appear to have accidentally caused chaos so I figured you might as well know about me since I'm responsible for it. And also so that you know who you broke, thanks ineffable fandom.

I have been called the prophet by some of you all. This is not entirely untrue, but I would like to add as I did in one post, that Apollo also gave me the curses of art, (very emotional) music, (sometimes good mostly dreadful) poetry, (same parentheses apply, except that the dreadful is on purpose) writing and (used to be good now dreadful) medical knowledge, and so yes, you did accidently adopt a messenger of an ancient Greek god.

Yes, this entire entry into your cult happened from start to now happened in 48 hours.

This will seem less bizarre when I give you context about me and fandoms. I changed career paths (after three years of intense study that cost me my sanity) from science to the arts because I was inspired by drarry fanfiction of them leaving their ministry jobs and following their dreams. Yes I tossed three years and my loss of sanity away in one week of decisions. I'm now a designer. Thanks Draco.

I read so much drarry fanfiction that my mum had to take me to the hospital for injured wrists. I wore wrist and elbow supports and was in constant pain for a few months. I was only later introduced to autoscroll. Yes, I am a fool. Yes, I am unaware of how to human.

I'm broke and cheap enough that I feel guilty buying bottled water, but for Christmas I spent the equivalent of around 150 bottles of water getting a Bakewell tart custom made (they don't sell them where I live). Why? Because in one single fanfiction, it is Draco's favourite food. I would never spend that kind of money on a dessert for any real human being.

That is to say, you all are not ready for when I REALLY fall for Crowley. I don't saunter vaguely downwards for people. I bypass earth and crash into hell, leaving a smoking pit in its infernal ground.

I swear I'm not as dumb as I seem, I just have ZERO general knowledge, and am terrible with faces. I can tell you what the graffiti on the walls of Pompeii from before 70 AD said but I don't know who my previous president was, and personally I think that's very classy of me.

Some of you seem concerned about my sleep schedule. Worry not, I sleep in four installments, night, morning nap, afternoon nap, evening nap. I sleep more than you all, that I can promise. I sleep more than my doggy sister.

About the streams and the timezones, I have no idea how to make it so people can watch, because I frequently mix up east and west and last morning I mixed up the Pacific and Atlantic ocean. I don't know at what point the Eastern hemisphere becomes the Western or how any of it works. I also thought Wakanda was a real place.

But hey fun fact, in 2020 diclofenac sales were dropping in Iceland. I know this because I wanted to make sure to use the correct painkiller in one sentence of a story I was writing. It was completely irrelevant. But hey any of you writers here probably feel my pain. I don't write fanfiction, but I am an author and I write original stories. And honestly what is more useful, Icelandic diclofenac sales from three years ago or timezones?

A career test once told me to be a standup comedian.

Yes that's me Asmi, just your regular dumbass lad who is slightly unhinged, serving himbo twink energy, hello hi nice to meet you all. PS: the poll results are out and Doctor Who won, so tremble, DW fandom.

[cece693]

Sorry (Michael Myers x Male! Reader)

I couldn't help myself. Something about the Halloween franchise just appeals to me. So I wrote another fanfic about the bogeyman himself. It's not my best work but I just wanted to post something quick for you guys. Question: should I write more mature scenes?

Summary: You knew Michael would never intentionally hurt you, but accidents do happen. And how can you stay mad at your boyfriend after he tries to make it up to you?

You knew Michael would never intentionally hurt you, but accidents do happen, and today was one of those times when Michael let his anger out on you. After another failed attempt at bringing back Laurie for a much-needed family reunion, Michael was in a bad mood. You sensed it immediately: his mask still on, knife gripped tightly in his large hand, angry little huffs escaping his lips. You made sure to stay out of his way. Yes, you were his boyfriend, and he loved you (even if he never explicitly said it), but you knew his boundaries. Times like these only reminded you of how lucky you were to have caught the interest of said killer. Standing up from the couch, you slowly made your way towards his, arms in front of you to make Michael see you meant no harm.

"Mikey." you softly whispered, using his nickname to try and soothe some of his anger. "Why don't we—" but before you could finish, your boyfriend suddenly flung you to the left, causing you to hit the wall. Pain surged through your body, and you gasped as the air was knocked out of your lungs.

"Michael." you wheezed, yet your boyfriend seemed relentless. Stomping towards your fallen form, he picked you up by the neck, his hands closing in with an iron grip, choking the life out of you. Panic set in as you scratched desperately at his hands, your vision blurring.

You looked into your boyfriend's eyes, desperately searching for any hint of recognition or humanity. Yet, at that moment, his gaze held nothing but an abyss of emptiness. The final moments of awareness slipped away as the world around you faded into darkness, suspending you in a nightmarish void.

When M/N's body stopped moving, Michael suddenly snapped back to his senses. His eyes widened with terror as he gazed at your unconscious form sprawled on the ground. The realization of what he had just done hit him like a tidal wave, and he recoiled in horror.

He fell to his knees beside you, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch your still form as if to assure himself that you were still there. You were thankfully still breathing, but Michael couldn't believe he'd unleashed his anger on you of all people. Easily picking you up, Michael set you gingerly on the sofa and began to grab all the materials needed for when you awakened.

You didn't know how much time had passed since you fell unconscious, but the first thing you did notice was that you were now on the couch. Pain throbbed at the back of your head, and as you instinctively reached to touch the area, a hand shot out and stopped you.

Michael.

He was on the floor, on both knees, with his mask gone. "Mikey," you uttered softly, your voice trembling with emotion. As you sat up, your hands moved hesitantly towards his face. With gentle fingers, you brushed aside the shaggy strands of blonde hair that obscured your boyfriend's features, revealing those eyes you loved so deeply.

In the depths of his gaze, you saw a kaleidoscope of emotions—pain, regret, and a flicker of hope amidst the darkness.

"sorry."

Your eyes widened upon hearing Michael's voice. Broken, hoarse, and quiet yet they carried a weight that reverberated through the room. With a soft smile playing on your lips, you closed the remaining distance between you and Michael.

[halfagone]

Is Good Parents Maddie and Jack Fenton even possible?

Specifically, would they be able to change their mindset after over twenty years of bigotry and scientific curiosity?

If they saw their human son turn into Phantom, would they still think of him as their kid? Would they love him, accept him and support him?

I, personally, can't see the canon reveals as anything but a kid friendly compromise of giving the viewers the satisfaction of a reveal and keeping the status quo of the light-hearted show going.

But with everything the Fenton parents did, said, and invented... is it possible for them to turn their backs on their research and start from scratch? To admit that they were wrong after decades of being called quacks, crazy and idiots?

The only thing they were right about was the existence of ghosts, but now they endangered the whole world by building their portal that half-killed their son and traumatised millions of people.

So. Is it possible to write a Good Parents Jack and Maddie fic that doesn't shy away from all the awful things they did and how would you go about it?

Thank you for your time!

The short answer: Technically? Yes. Realistically? Probably not.

The long answer: Everyone is capable of change but not everyone will. For all intents and purposes, they are capable of growing as people and learning to recognize their mistakes and biases and leaving those behind... It just likely wouldn't be a simple flick of a switch. At the same time there is reason to believe that the Fentons wouldn't change their minds.

You said it yourself, over twenty years they've acted like this and so logically you would begin to assume that's just how they've always been and always will be. That shows this goes far beyond their parenting style and skills, and has everything to do with who they are as people.

(Buckle up, this one's a long post.)

We don't actually know all that much about the Fenton parents in canon. We don't see any grandparents or relatives other than Aunt Alicia. Although we have headcanons as a fandom that Jack and Maddie have ghost-related trauma, or it's a family tradition from the Fenton side with Jack Fentonightingale, to explain why they've always been like this, that is still no canon confirmation. (Fentonightingale was a witch hunter, not a ghost hunter after all.)

As far as we are aware, for one reason or another, one day Jack and Maddie started to believe ghosts were real and not just real but malicious. I may not be a scientist by career but even I can tell you they've failed in their duties as scientists the moment they chose their hypotheses over the evidence. That is literally something they teach you in high school science class; you ask a question and then research for evidence supporting that question. (Otherwise known as the "if... then" statement.)

Sometimes that means your first assumption was incorrect, but the evidence cannot be changed. So to me, the Fenton parents aren't ghost scientists, they're ghost hunters and those implications have connotations all of their own. And those connotations reflect poorly on them. And this isn't even to mention their general lack of workplace safety.

When we look at their friendships- they have no friends. They had Vlad in college, but they fucked up that relationship and don't even seem too broken up about it. They hadn't spoken to each other in twenty years until the reunion, and they obviously knew he'd made something of himself; Jazz recognized his name from Billionaire of the Year I think the magazine was supposed to be or something.

When Jack explains what happened to Vlad in "Bitter Reunions", he literally mentions how he thinks Vlad has forgiven him now. So obviously he acknowledges that what happened between them was due an apology.

Do you know something that's noticeably absent? A single apology from either Jack or Maddie. Yes, Jack might be more at fault in his accident, but Maddie ignored him for twenty years too. Vlad can talk whatever crap he'd like about Jack, but Maddie is just as culpable in his 'abandonment' as her husband is. We have proof from "Masters of All Time" that Maddie isn't afraid to go behind her husband's back and do what she wants. If she truly cared about him, she would have made an effort and she never did.

But of course, now we have to talk about them as parents. That's where things get... a lot more complicated.

In "Maternal Instincts" at one point Maddie is shown carrying Danny piggy-back style. It's never explained, it's not played off as a joke. Danny isn't injured and neither is he faking an injury. It's literally just something Maddie did, probably with the idea that she's taking care of and protecting him. And Danny isn't embarrassed by it at all, even when he's been shown to be ashamed of some of his parents' other antics.

In "Girls Night Out", Jack takes Danny fishing as a father-son bonding activity. And I mean that literally, he got the idea from a book called 'Father/Son Relationships For Stupids!'. That might imply that he's a bad parent but that also goes to prove that he's aware of his shortcomings as a father and is genuinely trying to do more for his son. Not everyone comes to parenthood naturally, so for Jack to actively search for advice- even if it comes from a book- says that he wants to do this parent thing.

But in my opinion, the episode that best reveals how the Fentons function as a family is "The Fenton Menace" (and no, that's not just because my blog description references it lol). In that episode, we see Jazz's failings as a supportive sister almost from the very start; in her opening narration, she talks about how she knows his secret and yet when he insists through and through that he sees a ghost, she still thinks she knows better/otherwise. We also get a touching moment where Maddie talks about spending quality time with the people you love (which is a line almost word for word from the show, by the way).

However, there are two things that stand out the most from this episode. This is the episode where we get the line: "Whether it's air, land, or sea I won't stop until we capture a ghost and tear it apart. Molecule by molecule." In response to this, Danny gets visibly upset. It is probably one of the most damning pieces of evidence in the entire series that his parents' behavior genuinely bothered him. He makes jokes about them shooting or experimenting on him, but humor can and often is used as a coping mechanism. After that quote? Danny didn't try to hide his reaction until later on when Jazz asked him. And even then he dismisses it with a quip.

The second thing from this episode also so happens to feed into my main point for this entire argument: This is the episode where Jack and Maddie attempt to 'spin the crazy' out of Danny. That kind of behavior is something you'd find in places like Arkham Asylum, which is notorious for their inhumane treatment of its patients. Decidedly not something you expect to see from supposedly loving parents. That absolutely constitutes as cruel and unusual punishment and yet it's not even meant to be a punishment.

They sincerely think that they're trying to help him by doing this. And that's the heart of the issue, in my opinion. Jack and Maddie don't think about other people. They don't think about their feelings or their safety or their privacy. They are so caught up in the idea that they are doing good that they never stop to think that they're part of the problem. Or the entire problem altogether.

The only time that we get some decent self-reflection is during Reality Trip, when Danny's identity is revealed by Freakshow and the Fenton parents and Jazz are taken as hostages. While they're stuck and trapped, they question why Danny had never told them his identity before, which is when Jazz comments about the poor way they used to treat his ghostly side. It's only then that it clicks for them that oh yeah we did that. That's what it took for them to recognize that their actions have consequences and even with good intentions, you are capable of hurting the people you love.

And I think that's one of the best ways to go about it. You need to give them the time and opportunity for that self-reflection and reclamation. Jack and Maddie are- naturally- a shoot first and ask later (if ever) type of people. One way or another, there needs to be a way for them to pull back and sit and look around for once.

There are many ways to address this too and make way for the possibility of Good Parents Jack and Maddie. One of the fics that immediately comes to mind for me is @akela-nakamura's Not Everything Is As It Seems. In this one we focus on Jack's perspective, and this fic made me So Unwell with its quiet gravitas, I can never recommend it enough. But if you want something from Maddie's perspective, then you can read @peachdoxie's incredible Trust Your Instincts fic. It is 36 chapters, already completed, and it's this beautiful journey through Maddie's Outsider POV.

As for me personally, I explored the subject in Chapter 51 of my fic lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood, Interlude III: Dynasty. We actually get two different reactions from the Fenton parents, one that is more from a 'Good Parent' and one from a 'Bad Parent'.

I think the most important part is to never shy away from talking about and exploring all the horrible things they did and have done. It's difficult to discuss, but the subject is complicated and to address it as anything less than complicated wouldn't be fair to those moments where the Fentons genuinely did want to be there for their children.

Does it make any of their behavior right? No. Does it prove that they can change? Yes. Will they? ...That will have to be left up to each individual writer.

If you found yourself in a similar family situation, of course you're gonna want your family or your parents to grow or choose you. Because you love them, and you want to keep them in your life. But at some point you have to think about yourself and your own safety and health. That doesn't mean you give up on them, but you protect yourself from the fallout in case they don't change.

Every person is capable of it, but not every person is willing to. The Fenton parents are no different in that regard.

[slavghoul]

Interview from Rock Hard [FR] Magazine 5/2023

In which Tobias talks about Spillways, Phantomime, how he chooses what songs to cover, the state of the world, why he loves churches, and some touring technicalities.

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Rock Hard: Let's go back to the version of "Spillways" that you recorded with Joe Elliott, the singer of Def Leppard. How did this collaboration come about?

Unfortunately, this story is less sexy than it would have been if I could have done exactly what I wanted. Before Impera was released, I regularly mentioned Def Leppard in interviews because some of the experimentation on that album was inspired by that band, their writing style. […] As I often mentioned Def Leppard, people around me eventually told me that Joe Elliott and Phil Collen regularly spoke highly of Ghost in interviews. Since I obviously thought it was cool, someone suggested a collaboration. A good collaboration shouldn't be forced, it should happen naturally. The best ones are often the ones that weren't supposed to happen. Two drunk musicians somewhere accidentally writing a good song... Crosby, Stills & Nash style. People who, by chance, find themselves together in a different context from the one they are used to and do something together, by accident. Something magical! That's how I would ideally have wanted it to happen. So I said I was ready to call Joe Elliott and see if we had a rapport. We started talking on the phone and texting a lot, me living in Sweden and him in Dublin. As we were both on the move almost all the time, and he was on tour, we couldn't meet. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he tells me that he has recorded some vocals for 'Spillways'! Quite frankly, I was surprised because I wasn't expecting it. I was anticipating a possible collaboration, but in a different way. To be honest, I thought we would create something new later on. But when I heard the result, I thought two things. Firstly, I found it very flattering. Secondly, I thought Joe brought something new and cool to "Spillways".

But you would have preferred to have the opportunity to write a new song with him.

Yes, that's the way I saw it, but I'm happy with the way it turned out. And then I said to Joe, "You know how we post those funny little episodes on our social media?" He replied "Yes, I think I saw that!" and kindly agreed to participate in one of them. Nowadays, many artists are over-solicited to record video clips for anything and everything in order to keep their channels updated: "Come and see us in concert in such and such a city!", etc. etc. The aim is obviously to keep the media space occupied.

By creating "content"!

Exactly! And that's exactly what I don't want to do. That's why, instead of all this crap, we started some time ago to create these little humorous episodes. One day, for example, I came up with the idea of an episode set in 1969 featuring a sort of "pre-Ghost" group. To do this, I obviously had to write a new song, which I did with this psychedelic track, 'Kiss The Go-Goat', which I thought was funny. When we recorded it, 'Mary On A Cross', another song of the same type, came along. So we ended up with two sides of a single that became 'Seven Inches Of Satanic Panic.’ Instead of just announcing the release on our networks, we chose to shoot a new video in which we featured Papa Nihil and explained the origins of this so-called 'pre-Ghost' band. I thought it was a much more clever and fun way of presenting the single. We do the same when it comes to announcing an album release or a future tour. Joe Elliott has a great sense of humour and is capable of self-mockery, so he kindly agreed to play this little game.

Ghost have made a habit of releasing an EP between their albums, mostly, if not entirely, made up of covers: If You Have Ghost (2013), Popestar (2016) and now Phantomime. How is it not just about “creating content”?

For me, it's a kind of exercise. I like analogies. Let's imagine that the place we are in is a theatre, and that this theatre, in order to be viable, has to host performances all year round. At least fifty weeks a year. Daytime rehearsals, evening performances... You are the director of the place and you know that the play that is currently being performed there will end at the end of the month. So you look for something else to program in order to make the most of the place and keep your staff busy. Maybe an old classic like Doctor Glass (Hjalmar Söderberg, 1905), an adaptation of John Steinbeck, or a rereading of Shakespeare's Hamlet that you could revisit by inviting this actor or that director, renting out your theatre for three extra months for the occasion. Working on this old material, even if it means not releasing it if it doesn't work. We do that to keep the team active, enthusiastic, focused. That's my way of working. I worked simultaneously on the Impera album and the demos of the covers that are on Phantomime. One day I could record 'Spillways' and two hours before leaving the studio to go home, I could look at any of the covers and decide which ones to keep. So, as soon as Impera was finished, I was able to concentrate on those covers that the album's producer wasn't interested in putting on the record. Which was fine with me. I spent some time sorting out the covers I had recorded as demos. There were ten in total, but I only kept five. Because with those five tracks I thought I could come up with a really strong rock EP. In my albums, there are highs, lows, really metal tracks, ballads, instrumentals, etc. So I thought it was a good idea to make a really strong rock EP. I felt it would be cool if this new EP was viscerally rock’n’roll. The opening track, "See No Evil" by Television, sounds like the Rolling Stones on methamphetamine! (laughs)

You like the songs you cover, that's a prerequisite. But their lyrics also play a very important role in your choice.

Yes, that's what makes me choose a song or not.

Is that the number one criterion?

Erm... (he thinks for a long time) If I hesitate between two songs, yes, absolutely! Let's go back to Leonard Cohen, for example. For the bonus tracks of Prequelle, I chose "Avalanche" because it seemed to me to have a biblical and existential significance. This was not the case with 'Take This Waltz', another Cohen song that I liked as much, if not more. The latter, with its Viennese waltz feel, would have metaphorically taken us to Austria, which would not have been very coherent, unfortunately.

Should these covers speak about God, the Devil, ask questions about religion?

They must speak about evil, about good. Be existential, biblical, philosophical, but seen from a certain perspective. Or at least tick one of those boxes, like 'Hanging Around' (The Stranglers) which is about Christ. Some of the other covers I've recorded are more specific, such as 'Phantom Of The Opera' (Iron Maiden), which is about horror. I also make my choice according to the humour of the songs I want to cover. It should be close to my own sense of humour.

You mentioned the first Phantomime cover, "See No Evil". It takes on a different resonance today because, on January 28, 2023, we sadly learned of the death of Tom Verlaine, the leader of Television.

When I recorded this cover in 2021, just after completing Impera, it was already a tribute. But obviously, with Tom's death, this song takes on another resonance, that of a final posthumous salute. I've been listening to Television for twenty years, and I love them and have always considered them a great band. In indie clubs they always play the same song, 'Marquee Moon', but Television had many other good songs, especially on their first two albums: Marquee Moon (1977) and Adventure (1978). I like those two best. It's a band that had a huge influence on one of my previous bands, Subvision. So much so that at the time, I thought several times of covering Television songs that I loved: "See No Evil", but also "Elevation" and "Foxhole".

The first single from Phantomime is Genesis' 'Jesus He Knows Me', a scathing critique of televangelist stars like Jimmy Swaggart, Jim Bakker and Robert Tilton. Ugly people who have made their fortune by 'promising salvation’ to naive believers for big bucks. Can we expect to see you wearing a wig in its video, as singer/drummer Phil Collins did in the original video for this song in 1991? 

(Laughs) We've already shot the video for this cover version (editor’s note: the interview was conducted on 11 March 2023) and I'm not in it, but it's a direct nod to the original video. I've always liked this song - except for the reggae part, which I thought was horrible in the Genesis version and which I reworked - and it's funny to see how this 1991 text is still relevant today. Except, of course, for a few "old-time" words, like "phone book". The televangelists are still there on television promising things to people who take their word for it and shower them with money because they are assured of "salvation", they are promised heaven. I also rearranged Iron Maiden's 'Phantom of The Opera' after taking care to contact Steve Harris for his approval.

Indeed, in your retelling of this song, you are the Phantom and not its victim...

Yes, I wanted to be the Phantom. I submitted the idea to Steve, who gave me the green light. I only made some surgical changes. Similarly, I would have liked to have proposed the same thing to Phil Collins so that the text of "Jesus He Knows Me" would have been more in line with the times. Change, for example, "but she don't know about my girlfriend / or the man I met last night" to "or the dude I screwed last night". Alas, lack of time prevented me from doing so. And then, since this was a slippery slope, I thought: - What if Collins refuses? Or what if he gets pissed off? - We could have made these changes without asking anyone's permission - as long as the artists get their royalties, it's not a problem - but there was no way I was going to do it. Neither I nor my label wanted to alienate anyone, obviously.

In 1977, in "Hanging Around" by The Stranglers, which you also cover on Phantomime, the singer Hugh Cornwell sings about several things, but also about Christ "telling his mother not to worry because he's comfortable in the city where he's high above the ground". Is that why you chose it?

Actually, the key thing that made me choose this song from the band over any other is that I grew up listening to the album it's taken from, Rattus Norvegicus (1977), the Stranglers' first release. There are a lot of songs on that album that I would have loved to play because, as a musician, I really like to play those kinds of songs. ‘Hanging Around' was a good fit for us because of the lyrics, but also because it was more in keeping with our style. Ghost are obviously a metal and hard rock band, but also have a strong punk sensibility. Punk, but well played (smiles). For me, The Stranglers have always done "well played punk": this band knows how to play, how to arrange its music, unlike GBH and Discharge, to name but two. Mind you, I also like the latter, but not for the same reasons. A lot of punk bands from the late 70s/early 80s sounded "sloppy". It wasn't for lack of trying to play better. When The Clash and The Jam went into the studio, they tried to do their best and they sounded great! The same goes for The Adverts. Those guys were doing their best. Nowadays, some people think that being a punk is to play badly on purpose, to be messy. No, no, no ! But I digress...

What is the reason for the nod to Metallica's 'Fade To Black' in the solo on 'Hanging Around'?

Just for fun. When I'm working on a guitar solo, I throw things in here and there, like a messy painter. It's like stretching a canvas on a wall and making big brush strokes... But when I start to feel like I've got something cool, I dig in more surgically, a bit like a collage artist would. I interweave little elements, and when it comes time to insert a solo into a piece, I refine things by continuing to add new elements. Generally, a solo gives you a space of freedom in the middle of an otherwise totally structured song. That's when you can come up with different things in terms of melody. So that's the way I do it, even on the demos of the covers. I ask my sound engineer, Martin Eriksson Sandmark, to play me the draft of the solos I've been working on over and over again, and then I try out different things, whatever comes to mind. It's as if I'm drawing a mental map of what the solo will become. Sometimes, if I'm on a part sometimes, if I'm on a bluesy part, I'll let myself play a few notes of Gary Moore’s "Still Got The Blues", or, if I'm tapping, Van Halen's "Eruption". When I was working on the solo for 'Hanging Around', I felt like playing this part of Metallica's 'Fade To Black', just for fun. And it ended up on the demo. I'm a decent guitar player, but I'm not at the level I could have reached if I'd worked harder. I could just record these solos in the studio, where you can always slow things down when you play them and then speed them up and put them on the album, but Fredrik Akesson can play these parts without tricks and with much more finesse than I can. He recorded the solo for "Hanging Around" as I had presented it on the demo, with this nod to Metallica, and we thought it was so cool that we kept it.

Hugh Cornwell, the ex-singer of The Stranglers, said in an interview that, although he was not a believer, he loved visiting churches. Is this also true for you? Are you also attracted to churches?

Yes, passionately! I believe in them like I believe in Star Wars. I've always thought of churches as stage props. Walking into one of them is a bit like walking onto a film set of the original Indiana Jones And The Temple Of Doom. It's awe-inspiring, even though you know it's just cardboard. Churches have magical powers because they are centuries-old buildings and we know that a lot of things have happened within their walls. Not that I'm trying to throw up on these places of worship, but when I go into a church I don't hear God, but the whispers of time. I am not an atheist, although intellectually I can see that there are many reasons why I should be. I believe in a Force, in an Energy. I also believe that we don't know many things, but that there is a balance between these different energies. The white and the black.

Good and Evil...

Absolutely! Right now the world is in crisis, but we're going to get through it. It's a vicious circle. We do ourselves a disservice if we think that if the world were rid of people like Vladimir Putin, Alexander Lukashenko, Jair Bolsonaro and the ayatollahs of Iran and Iraq, we would be out of the woods. I think all this can happen - and I hope it will, in a way - but Good and Evil will always be there. That balance is necessary. But I am an optimist by nature. I believe that there is a future for Volodymyr Zelensky and the Eastern bloc. That there is perhaps a chance to put into practice what was tried there some thirty years ago. And I believe in a free Iran, in a possible return to what this country was in 1978. What a beautiful day that would be! But that doesn't mean there wouldn't be a new war somewhere else in the world. I'm an eternal optimist, but let's face it: history is always starting over. As I said, it's a question of balance, a permanent coming and going. Because I believe in this Force I was talking about earlier, I truly believe that the West can win, that the way we live and the way we have built our society is a step forward that shows progress and can make a large majority of people happy. Not all, but most. But even if we all lived in love and peace for five years, something else would come along to create chaos! An alien or something! (laughs) That's how it works. Our mistake is to believe in the status quo, in nirvana. It's not going to happen. It's always about balance. The Vatican and organised religion... All that crap is just to pick people's pockets, to control them, to take their energy and scare them into plundering them. The same goes for the GOP (editor’s note: the American "Grand Old Party", suspected of having Christian nationalist leanings), which only deceives people in order to take their money! That's all you need to know. It's simple, so simple to understand. All this does not mean that the energy that emanates from churches is not real. When you walk into one of them, you feel - or so I believe - the energy of all those who have gone before you, for decades, for centuries. Their fears, their hopes, etc. So much so, sometimes, that you can feel oppressed, even upset. So I can walk into a church and feel a sense of awe. I love visiting these places, especially from an aesthetic point of view.

On Phantomime, you also cover "We Don't Need Another Hero" by Tina Turner. Don't you think that, given the state of the world today, we do need "another hero"?

I think Zelensky has shown how much we like heroes, how important they are to us. I think back, for example, to how the world went wild when Andrés Iniesta scored the decisive goal in the 116th minute to help Spain win the 2010 World Cup against the Netherlands. I believe in human determination and how it can inspire the world to distinguish between what is important... and what is really important. What is important for our daily lives. Yes, it's cool to have a complete collection of Venom's work, but it doesn't matter if I’m missing the most important thing. In the last ten years especially, the western world has been focusing on tons of unimportant things trying to pit people against each other, cancel culture and all that stuff... It proves that we are spoiled children. Our mentality shows it when it comes to security. Seeing Zelensky defend himself as he does appeals to our most primal instincts: it's beautiful and very inspiring. Nothing else is more important than that. It is the only thing that matters... Otherwise we have to be prepared for a lot of people to live in misery.

Next August, you will tour in the USA with Amon Amarth. I noticed that they will not accompany you on the last date, in Los Angeles, on September 11, 2023. There is no opening act, you ask the audience not to use their phones, etc. That sounds like a live DVD!

Yes, we are indeed planning to film this show, but it won't be the end of the Impera era cycle, even if we will not have so many dates left after this concert. There will still be a few shows in South America and Australia.

Nothing in Japan? A country that one might think Ghost was made for.

At the moment, it's not very clear. We had a lot of discussions with the Japanese promoters, as there was talk of us appearing on the bill of a Japanese festival scheduled for this month. Unfortunately, the festival was postponed... and then rescheduled for March! I think they originally had a big headliner, but the headliner didn't show up. So they cancelled, and then considered a smaller edition with Pantera. With all the back and forth, we ended up dropping out because it was too risky for us to play one date there after six months of inactivity. Our team is currently taking a break, but we preferred to use this time to rehearse for our next shows. The first one will be in Rouen on May 21st. We learned a good lesson the last time we played Hellfest. It was so hot that day, the conditions were so extreme, that we almost had a storm. We really had to fight against the elements and it affected me (Editor's note: the last encore of the show was not played, as Tobias was suffering from vocal problems). It was a very tough show. What really pissed me off was not the fact that I lost my voice, but the fact that the festival-goers who were there were not treated to our entire production. It was indeed difficult to foresee these extreme conditions. This summer we have to play festivals again, so we have reworked our production, which will be better adapted to the complicated weather. On this tour we will play in Spain, Finland, Norway, Greece, all within a few days of each other. So we'll be touring with two identical stages, so we can do all these shows without too much downtime. It's not very ecological, I'm sorry to say, because sometimes we'll have to take a plane to get to these cities in time. Not great, but it's the only way...

Will you play any of the Phantomime covers live?

One thing is for sure: we will play 'Jesus He Knows Me' because it's the first single from the new EP. As for the rest, we'll see during the rehearsals how the set evolves - because it's going to evolve a bit from the 2022 set. We're thinking of playing some songs from Impera that we've left out so far.

[gotham-daydreams]

Hey there! I love your work so so much! I check your blog every day and get excited for every new post, I think your ideas and your writing is just spectacular!! I have a quick question to ask if that's alright. I was wondering what the first aid kit in this part of Not Here was implying?

"Like an airsoft gun, some glass beakers, various ties, a pair of shades, a glasses frame, and a sewing kit next to a first-aid kit? Bruce didn't want to think about how the first-aid kit both looked used, and was empty."

Is Bruce upset in a "he wasn't there when the reader was hurt" way, a "how often did they get hurt" way, or is it something else?

Also, if I recall there are some hints/notes about the reader being hurt in fights before but the family never came to help or aid them, which would make sense if that was why it would be empty. Though it does make me wonder if that means they were handling it entirely on their own, did Alfred know/help or did the reader hide it?

I think my first thought about it was a bit darker (iykwim), but I didn't want to jump the gun and assume like that so that's why I've decided to ask (just thinking out of my own experiences with depression) I don't mean to be so dark on purpose though! And I think the other possibilities are more likely anyway.

All in all I'm just a bit curious since the physical hurt the reader has endured hasn't been too expanded upon yet (at least not as much as emotional hurt) and I want to know more about it, what's happened and such :)

That's all! I hope you have an amazing day! Please take care of yourself, you're the most important thing you have!! Peace!!

Hello!

As with a few other things, I really just left it up to interpretation! Since the med kit being empty can honestly mean all of those things- even Alfred persuading the reader to hide it in some way (but that most likely didn't happen, I'll say that much). Though some injuries will be mentioned later :]

After all, the reader did a lot of activities, and participated in various sports during their time in the manor, and basically crammed in everything they could into their schedule. One way or another, they're bound to get hurt. Since even if the sports and activities they've done don't hurt them, then just the sheer amount of stuff they do in a week most likely will.

Accidents are bound to happen, mistakes will be made, and that can lead to injuries one way or another. Maybe from the action of the mistake/accident itself, or from how the reader takes it, along with their own experiences away from all of those things. Like their situation at home, or things that happen to their friends.

I will say that Alfred has helped the reader with some of their injuries at this point, especially ones that were more serious and severe. Though he isn't aware of every single injury that the reader has had. Especially if they were smaller, or just easier to hide, but there have been moments where someone else outside of the manor would notice that the reader is injured instead. Which may or may not lead to a hospital visit, and such records may or may not be mentioned later.

As for Bruce and how he thinks/feels when he first sees the kit? I'll be honest, it's a mix of what you said and some other stuff.

I mean, you come into your kid's room, and not only are they gone, but you're basically shown that they lived their whole life without you through the achievements they've earned. So when you look for them and find that used, empty med-kit? You start to think about what the walls don't show. To think about the journey your kid went through to get to those points, where they were earning awards for the things they did. Bruce was anyway, and I suppose that, just something as small as the med-kit, was already causing him to think about that a little too much.

After seeing the med-kit, the fact that awards only show the end of one's journey to get that particular achievement, won't stop nagging at Bruce. He thinks of the possible hardships you've had to face, and what on God's green Earth has caused you to not only have a med-kit in your room, and hidden away, but also have it be used and empty.

It makes him wonder if it was the only kit you've used, or one of many. And as much as he doesn't want to think about it, the ladder makes sense seeing everything you've participated in, and just how messy you're schedule must've been from running around, and trying to do everything to the point where you got an award for it.

He knows accidents can happen, and where mistakes can lead someone. So just as he's about to think about it- he pulls away. Deciding that now isn't the best time to wonder about something like that, so he refocuses himself.

Though for that brief moment, he does wonder about how often the reader has gotten hurt, along with that fact that he was never there- but also never even knew about it. The possibility never crossed his mind until now, and like the awards and medals on the walls, he's only seeing the end result. The med-kit being used, empty, and possibility one of many you've gone through.

And he saw none of it. Wasn't even aware of any injuries you've had in the past or present, until he started searching for you.

Instead, he finds out through a small little kit, that was tucked away to the far end of a closet, as if trying to hide itself. It tries to pull him in with it's implications, but he pulls away before much can be done, before he can think of it anymore. Before he can realize that Alfred hasn't told him much about injuries the reader has gotten. How that could imply that the reader hid them, and took care of their injuries instead. Which would then bring on a whole new kind of worry, regret, and panic to Bruce.

The thought would eat him alive if he hadn't pulled away. He knows that much.

So generally, it's a mixed bag! The med-kit alone makes Bruce wonder about what you mentioned, along with how he wasn't told that the reader got hurt, and what that could mean.

How the reader has gotten hurt is left up to interpretation, but certain injuries they've gotten in the past from certain things will be mentioned- however! If anything happened inbetween such events, or beyond what is mentioned, is up to you! :]

Alfred has helped the reader with their injuries before, but isn't aware of every injury they've gotten. Though, that sometimes did lead to other people outside of the Manor noticing instead, which may or may not have landed the reader in the hospital sometimes. Which also may or may not mean that the reader has a record of some injuries they've had in the past.

Though, yeah! The med-kit was implying that the reader has indeed gotten hurt before and such. :]

I hope this answered your question!

[pandorasfavorite]

I live for your writing literally supporting my delusions ❤️❤️❤️ But anyways I think you’ve already written with this idea before but hopefully this request is a little different. So a fem reader and Dominik have been dating for a couple months but the reader beings to get annoyed by Dom’s close relationship with Rhea. The reader kind of starts giving him attitude about about this and Dom takes matters into his own hands with him showing the reader that he only wants the her and saying some stuff like “Do I kiss/touch Rhea like this?” and then proceeds to show her😝😝

Pick a Side

AN: Requests are coming as fast as I can write (don't give up on me). And keep a look out for your request mixed in with other posts.

It's not in Dominik's hands how he is supposed to do things. I mean he did choose to join the Judgement Day but the close relationship with Rhea was essentially pushed on him for more attention and heat. You were not a part of the Judgement, instead you stayed solo and stayed away from factions. You weren't with Dominik until 3 months after he joined The Judgement Day. But he grew on you slowly but surely; the way he was constantly in your life and that adorable smile and crazy hair; he was irresistible. You knew who all was in The Judgement Day too; you knew he liked Rhea as a friend, so he said, though lately the jealousy has gotten worse.

When you liked Dominik it didn't hurt as bad to see them paired together in the center of the ring acting like a couple. Yet the longer your relationship carries on, the more you love him, seeing him hug her and hang off her shoulder was slowly killing your nerves. So yeah you've been moody towards him lately, he should know by now anyway. On the other hand, Dominik was getting a little frustrated with your little mood. But he wasn't dense; it was clear as water that you were being pissy about Rhea. What could he do other than show you how he only wants you? Just finding the right time was the tricky part.

Well, the tricky part was over because you were blowing up on Dominik for touching Rhea's hair. In his defense, it really was an accident, but anything that had to do with them being in contact was ticking you off effortlessly. So now you were pacing in front of the king-sized bed (where Dominik was leaning against the headboard with his arms crossed), and you were going on a rant about the ridiculous events that have happened recently.

"You know it wouldn't matter if you at least acted like you didn't mean to do it. And then you want to throw your arm around her shoulder- or wait NO MY ARM, what's yours is mine, and your mine. So what I guess I'm really asking is why are you throwing my arm around another woman?" you spewed with your hands flying around to emphasize your point. Dominik was so fucking flabbergasted; somehow you managed to not only call him out for an accident but also claim his arm as yours. But he listened anyway and tried to act normal because if he smiled at your insanity; you would say he was making fun of the problem. So with a straight face (one that was about to break), Dominik patted the bed beside him.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him with apprehension, yet your body still went and sat beside him. Dominik turned to look at you with soft loving eyes while you turned to look at him with fire burning behind yours. He did the first thing that came to mind, kiss you until gasped out his name. His lips slipped against yours in a wet kiss and his whole body moved with the kiss. Every smack of your lips against his was followed by Dominik moving on top of you with ease. One of his legs was slotted between both of yours and your mind felt a bit foggy at the unexpected sensation. But the fog wasn't thick enough to distract you, that much Dominik already knew, his thigh pressed against your clothed cunt and he began pulling your clothes off one by one.

First start with your shirt and then your bra right after. The moment it slipped off, not even on the floor yet Dominik's hands were playing with your tits and his lips were sucking dark marks onto your sensitive skin. Each movement of his hands was directly followed by his thigh just barely pressing against you. He pulled back to taunt you, "Do I touch Rhea like this? Kiss her like this?", he rasps but you grit your teeth at the name alone.

"Don't say her name right now", you huff and grab the back of his head like you are about to push him back down onto you. He grins and pushes his hair out of his face, "Yea, I rather hear you say my name instead". You held back your surprise when Dominik ripped your pants completely off your body and slid your panties off. He looked at them with the same cocky smirk and showed you the prominent wet mark right in the middle. He smacked your pussy lightly; you felt yourself jolt and moan at the same time. "No surprise there", he commented and threw them off the bed all the same.

His hand splayed down your body; only for his tongue to follow the same trail, just barely dipping down to lick the inside of your thighs teasingly. You wither from above and try to wrap your legs around his head like you always do. Dominik never went a day without tasting your cunt. It was his favorite way to relieve stress; it was almost like a routine for him to come home with you and get on his knees to slide his tongue into your wet pussy. Though tonight he only glided his tongue against your clit for a split second before just barely letting his teeth graze over it. Your body reacted before your mind processed the new action. You gasped and raised up off of the bed to see what the fuck he just did and why the hell did it feel so good. "Like that mami? I thought you would, I know this pussy in and out", he sticks his tongue out playfully but he was still so low the tip of his tongue hit your pussy all the same.

You moaned his name and glared with impatience. You had never claimed to be the patient one in this relationship. Dominik took that as a sign to hurry up and pull his cock out to slip inside of you. After all this time you thought you'd be used to the stretch of his cock, but each inch sent you reeling and gripping the sheets for support. The way his cock filled you up, made you feel full it was unexplainable; really only your intangible moans could begin to explain it. "Fuck you feel so good", you whined and convulsed around his cock.

Dominik let you scratch down his cock and throw your arms over his shoulders while he just barely rocked into you. But he couldn't help but reply, "Oh yeah?" he asked but knew the answer based on how much you were pulsing around him already. "Fuck you", you grit out without meaning, though in reality, you wanted to pull his face down to slip your tongue into his smart mouth. He looks at you from the curtain of his long hair, "I can't wait" he said back. And he meant it with his entire being. Dominik loved you on top, roughing him around, and shoving your panties into his mouth.

Now Dominik was practically abusing your cunt with each harsh thrust that hit your g-spot with no effort. Each thrust made a smacking sound of his hips against your ass and then the squelch of him pulling in and out of your pussy. Dominik was now holding the headboard to better fuck you and the sight you got to see was better than any other. He was panting and licking his lips while watching you moan and work through the up-and-coming orgasm. His muscles were convulsing and his hips were ramming his cock inside of you. The quirks of Dominik being so athletic really paid off in bed.

Dominik pulled out and barely gave any time for you to whine out complaints. He grabbed you by the hips and flipped you over, he pushed your knees up and pushed your back down so you were arched in front of him; ass up and ready. Dominik slipped inside of you effortlessly this time and groaned at the sight in front of him. He grabs your hips again tightly this time and slams you back on his cock while he thrusts into you all the same. "Why would I want her when I have you taking my cock like a whore? God, I could fuck you forever Mami", his words are sloppy and dirty. You pulse around him and moan into the sheets he pushed you into over and over again.

"Dom please", you mumble from the sheets; that was the best way to tell him you were about to cum. And in this case, it was going to be the best one you've had in weeks. Dominik groaned as your pussy got tighter with each pulse and now one of his hands moved to the arch of your back to keep you in the right position. "Just a little longer princess, my good girl can do that right?", you only nodded into the sheet and Dominik felt his body constricting with each long pull. But you not speaking wasn't nearly enough for him. "My little cock slut can handle it hm?", he moved his hands down to grasp and pull at the plush of your ass. Smacking and pulling to make his cock drive even further into you. The degradation and praise mixed together always had you gushing around his cock and stilling while you cum. Already knowing Dominik would have no problems with fucking you through it.

Your ass pressed against him and his cock was as deep as it could go when you squeezed around his cock tightly. So tight he could barely pull out or stutter his cuss of praise. But of course, he managed, "That's my girl"

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Reading that post about Eclipse confuses me because my mindset about him hasn’t changed even with the tragic backstory (mainly because we were shown his bad actions first). Yes, it was sad that Moon left him in Sun’s head, but it does NOT excuse what he’s done after that. And I know he also said, “So why do I still care?” when he had slapped Lunar (which almost made me want to root for him to change), but he shoved that feeling down and continued on his dark path.

Honestly I never thought Eclipse was that big a threat.

Maybe it's the nature of a VR RP show, but all Eclipse did was monologue about how much Sun and Moon suck and he wants them to suffer.

The only real crimes he actually did was, idk, abuse his two creations and cause everyone in the Pizzaplex to think Sun and Moon were bad guys.

Other then that, his real crime is monologuing for too long and everyone panicking about what he possibly COULD do, rather then what he actually did.

Eclipse is kind of the reason that the Killcode thing became a problem and that Moon had to wipe his memories. But that was more of an unintended byproduct of anything. As we find out, Eclipse got big sad when Moon didn't know who he was.

Eclipse is also the reason July 16th massacre happened, but again, that was more of an unintended byproduct of him building BloodMoon just for the sake of having company and someone as "evil" as him.

To me, Eclipse read more as "Team Rocket" evil, rather then Marvel evil, like they were trying to go for.

Everything that is true evil he does, is always on accident.

And everything that is evil with intent, isn't that bad in the grand scheme of things. Not that I'm justifying his abuse to Lunar, but realistically, that's about all he did. (Well, and the maternity chip with Roxanne...which in retrospect, is kinda a subplot that went nowhere. But I don't like how they write Roxanne in the SBshow verse anyway)

Maybe I am way older then the target demographic for this silly YouTube show,

But I never understood Eclipse as a threat in his own show. In a narrative sense, and how other characters perceived him.

He was just a Cheeto who liked listening to himself talk at the end of the day, that everyone perceived as a threat cus he liked to burn ants for fun.

@ayyy-imma-ninja @twinanimatronics

[hollowed-theory-hall]

what's the one harry potter pairing u like that u mentioned in the tags of your hinny post?

Anonymous: Can I ask who that minor character you ship with Harry is? For some absurd reason my mind jumped to Stan Shunpike lol but it's probably not him.... Or is it?

Okay, so this is kind of a funny story. Like, my pipeline through hp pairings was a weird one. Like, I used to read a lot of Harry pairings, still do on occasion (some make more sense than others). None of them were ones I would point at and say: "that should've happened in the books"

One day, I was innocently writing a fic (canon divergence of GoF), and it was just for me, for funnsies, never posted it anywhere and not planning to. And I planned to pair Harry with someone there (honestly, I don't remember who because I didn't write the plan down) but when writing, Harry ended up with a different character. And it was so strange to me because that never happened.

Like, how do you write a ship accidentally?

But I did. I wrote Harry into a ship by accident. So I went back to the books to try and figure out why the hell would my subconscious decide that's the way to go.

I'll also preface it by all this being my subjective opinion and I do read other Harry ships in fics, this one just quickly became my favorite to write (and the only one I write). Also, I don't actually think this is a pairing that should've happened in the books, it's place is in fic and that's where I like it.

So, the character I accidentally shipped with Harry is... *drumroll*

Stan Shunpike!

Not really, it's:

Theodore Nott

Now, you might look at the name and go: "Who the fuck is that?"

And you'll be correct. Theo has 0 speaking lines in the entire book series. His name appears twice. He, himself, as a person, only appeared on page, like, 3 times in the background. The scene that gives the most information about him is other characters talking about him. He isn't even present.

That being said, I'm very good at extrapolating a lot of information from very little evidence. So allow me, to walk you through who is Theodore Nott and why I ship him with Harry.

Basic Information

So, let's start with the most basic overview before I pull out the quotes and go any deeper.

We know Theo is a Slytherin student in Harry's year. So he likely shares a dorm with Draco, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Theo's father is both at the graveyard at the end of GoF and in the Department of Mysteries at the end of OotP, so we know he is a Death Eater. We also know Thoe's father was one of the first and closest Death Eaters to Voldemort, who waited for him during his interview with Dumbledore in 1967:

“Then if I were to go to the Hog’s Head tonight, I would not find a group of them — Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, Dolohov — awaiting your return? Devoted friends indeed...”

(HBP, page 444)

We also know the Nott family is "as pure-blooded as the Malfoys" according to JKR in an interview. We also know Theo's great-grandfather (maybe? the family relation isn't clear), Cantankerus Nott, is suspected to be the one who wrote the Pure-Blood Dictionary, the book that coined the term "Sacred 28" and made that list (which the Nott family are on).

The name Nott is potentially to be derived from the name Nótt, which is the personification of the night in Norse Mythology. So it has been theorized the Nott family have a Nordic origin. Possible, but it doesn't really matter for this post.

What does, is that he comes from a dark, Death Eater, blood-purist family similar to the Malfoys. Even so, Theo never took the Dark Mark and never joined Voldemort in the books.

Now, that we have the basic information out of the way, let's look at Theodore as a person.

All the details I could gather from the books

Alright, now we get to the fun part. That is, me going through all the relevant scenes that mention Theodore Nott and actually creating a character psychoanalysis out of basically nothing.

So, the quotes aren't organized in a particular order. I'm just going to explain Theo and then explain why all this makes me ship him with Harry.

“Well, I pity Slughorn’s taste. Maybe he’s going a bit senile. Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his. Slughorn probably hasn’t heard I’m on the train, or —” “I wouldn’t bank on an invitation,” said Zabini. “He asked me about Nott’s father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he’d been caught at the Ministry he didn’t look happy, and Nott didn’t get an invitation, did he? I don’t think Slughorn’s interested in Death Eaters.” Malfoy looked angry, but forced out a singularly humorless laugh.

(HBP, page 150)

This is a part of the conversation between Draco, Pansy, and Blaise, Harry overhears when he is hiding in their compartment at the beginning of HBP. I have a few things to note regarding this scene.

Firstly, throughout this conversation, Pansy, Blaise, and Draco all call each other by their first name. This shows closeness, they are all friendly and familiar enough to use their first names with each other. Theo, though, is referred to as "Nott" by all three in the compartment.

He doesn't actually sit in their compartment which is in itself a sign about how he isn't really friendly with Draco's group. Considering the group is most of his year from his house, Theo is likely very lonely, and it will be apparent from other scenes I bring up later.

Secondly, Theo's father is in Azkaban. We know Draco is bothered about his own father's predicament. He mentions it to Harry and bothers him over it, Theo doesn't though. Theo doesn't seem to be bothered by Harry or his father's incarceration.

The only conclusion I can draw from this is that the relationship between Theo and his father is not a good one.

(I know some fics like to have Lucius be abusive towards Draco, for some reason. But the books really don't back this up. Lucius loves Draco and Draco adores his father)

Theo, though, Theo seems to be the one with a very strained relationship with his father. Strained enough that he isn't bothered the man is in Azkaban. What I'm saying is that Theo's father likely abuses or mistreats him in some capacity.

If anything more was needed to complete Harry’s happiness, it was Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle’s reactions. He saw them with their heads together later that afternoon in the library, together with a weedy-looking boy Hermione whispered was called Theodore Nott. They looked around at Harry as he browsed the shelves for the book he needed on Partial Vanishment, and Goyle cracked his knuckles threateningly and Malfoy whispered something undoubtedly malevolent to Crabbe. Harry knew perfectly well why they were acting like this: He had named all of their fathers as Death Eaters

(OotP, page 583)

This is a scene at the end of OotP after Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and Theo's fathers were caught at the ministry and sent to Azkaban because they are Death Eaters. There are a few important notes about this scene.

The first, Hermione knows Theo, while Harry and Ron don't really. This means she likely knows him from the classes she takes and Harry and Ron don't — Arithmancy and/or Ancient Runes.

The second, he is sitting with other Death Eater children, but I don't think it's by choice. I mentioned in the previous quote how he isn't close to Draco and his crew. He sits with them here mostly because he doesn't have another choice. Theo doesn't seem to really have any friends, so he sits with the closest people he has to friends — kids he has known since he was young because their fathers were in the same circle.

The other note about this is that Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco are all mentioned as being threatening and malicious towards Harry because they don't like that their fathers are in Azkaban. Theo, though, Theo doesn't threaten Harry, he isn't part of their whisperings. As I mentioned above, he's likely happy his father is in Azkaban.

A pair of blank, white, shining eyes were growing larger through the gloom and a moment later the dragonish face, neck, and then skeletal body of a great, black, winged horse emerged from the darkness. It looked around at the class for a few seconds, swishing its long black tail, then bowed its head and began to tear flesh from the dead cow with its pointed fangs. A great wave of relief broke over Harry. Here at last was proof that he had not imagined these creatures, that they were real: Hagrid knew about them too. He looked eagerly at Ron, but Ron was still staring around into the trees and after a few seconds he whispered, “Why doesn’t Hagrid call again?” Most of the rest of the class were wearing expressions as confused and nervously expectant as Ron’s and were still gazing everywhere but at the horse standing feet from them. There were only two other people who seemed to be able to see them: a stringy Slytherin boy standing just behind Goyle was watching the horse eating with an expression of great distaste on his face, and Neville, whose eyes were following the swishing progress of the long black tail.

(OotP, page 445)

“The only people who can see thestrals,” she said, “are people who have seen death.”

(OotP, page 446)

The stringy Slytherin boy mentioned here is Theo. This scene proves that:

He takes Care of Magical Creatures

He saw someone die

Let's explore the second one for a moment. The fact Theo can see Thestrals means he watched someone die and was old enough to comprehend what he was seeing. We also know Theo's mother is dead. So it's likely the person he watched die was his mother.

I also want to draw attention to Theo's distaste towards Thestrals. He could likely see them carrying the carriages every year since 2nd year, it's not his first time seeing them. But it doesn't stop his displeasure with their sight from showing. Which says something about him. It means he likely recalls his mother and her death whenever he looks at the Thestrals. and these are memories Theo rather not experience.

We don't know how his mother died, but I'd hazard a guess it wasn't natural. After all, wizards have long life spans, they are more durable to illness and injury, and don't usually die from accidents unless very extreme or magical. And there was no epidemic of dragonpox (a disease that does tend to kill wizards) in the time since 1980 and the books. So, she was more likely killed at some point between 1985(ish) and 1991.

“No, I don’t think so, sir. I’m Muggle-born, you see.” Harry saw Malfoy lean close to Nott and whisper something; both of them sniggered, but Slughorn showed no dismay; on the contrary, he beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry, who was sitting next to her.

(HBP, pages 185-186)

First, Theo is an O student in potions since he is in the potions NEWT class, and was probably meant to be there even if Snape was the teacher.

Second, again, Theo doesn't really have friends. He sits next to Draco as the only other Slytherin in the class. Also, they share the circumstances of being sons of Death Eaters currently in Azkaban. Although both of them seem to deal with it quite differently.

Third, Theo joins Draco in making fun of Hermione's blood status, but he does not initiate it. Considering the environment he was raised in and is in, it makes sense he would make fun of it. Whether he's a blood-purist or not, he would want to keep his image considering he doesn't have many allies. Hanging out with Draco is survival, not friendship. They aren't even on a first-name basis with each other.

“Amortentia doesn’t really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room — oh yes,” he said, nodding gravely at Malfoy and Nott, both of whom were smirking skeptically. “When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love. . . .

(HBP, page 186)

The final quote I have about Theo is from the same potions class as above. Both he and Draco are portrayed here as underestimating amortentia and its potential damage. It makes sense for their upbringing in the Wizarding World, which has no real laws or regulations regarding love potions that are seen as harmless fun more often than not.

I'll add Theo likely didn't witness a healthy romantic relationship. Considering his father is a Death Eater who is likely abusive and may or may not have killed his mother. With this as his reference to a marriage, it's clear why he'd look down on love and love potions.

Why I think Theo and Harry have potential

Okay, so now that we know who Theodore Nott is, let's talk about why I ship him with Harry.

I think Harry, in general, would get along best with a clever partner with the ability to be ruthless (Slytherins or Ron fall into this category). Because Harry isn't some golden savior; he casts unforgivables, and is very willing to poison Umbridge or Crocio Snape if he could get away with it. He needs a partner that won't be horrified by these thoughts.

Also, Theo literally never speaks on page. Even when spoken to, his reactions are silent. I think this quiet and no need to talk, the ability to be comfortable in silence, is something that would be comfortable for Harry. Harry in the books finds himself annoyed with Ron and Hermione's constant banter on occasion, so I think it fits well.

Theo would also be comfortable around Harry without a need to play a certain part. Because Harry wouldn't care about that. He would honestly rather Theo forgo the pure-blood Slytherin act.

I feel like Harry and Theo, have a good potential to understand each other. Theo lost his mother and likely experiences abuse from his father. It makes them very likely to trauma bond over their crap life and shared experience. Two out of three only ones who could see the Thestrals in the entire class.

The other thing I feel they could connect over is being lonely. Harry spent all his childhood until Hogwarts basically being on his own. Theo stayed on his own. Draco at least has his parents, he has other students he's closer to, not that he shares everything with them, but he has some support network. Theo has none. And this is something Harry knows well.

Theo, I think, wouldn't expect anything specific from Harry. He doesn't even interact with him, not to mock him, and not to idolize him, he doesn't care at all. And we know how much Harry appreciates being thought of as Harry and not as the Boy-Who-Lived. Theo would allow Harry to be himself without some mold he wants him to fit in.

The fact Theo never becomes a Death Eater, even though he was in Draco's year and his father was a Death Eater before Lucius (and in better standing than Lucius with Voldemort) is so interesting. It's somewhat surprising Theo wasn't marked. It means he didn't want to be. It means that Theo Nott didn't want to torture and kill muggleborns or blood traitors, or anyone really. And he didn't want to swear his allegiance to Voldemort. This is just a fascinating fact to me and something I enjoy considering. What life experience made him come to that conclusion? Was it just his dislike of his father that pushed him away? Could he have been another Sirius Black (Gryffindor in a Slytherin family) under slightly different circumstances? I mean, Voldemort likely wouldn't force him to become a Death Eater, but would his father? I don't know what at all went down there, but I like that potential story.

We also know he wasn't part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad, even though some minor Slytherins were mentioned to be part of it. He just seems to be an actually decent guy (I don't care what Cursed Child says about him, I know he's there but I avoided almost anything to do with Cursed Child so I barely know the plot).

Finally, this is a character Harry doesn't have as much drama to get over with. Yes, sometimes I want to read overcoming drama between characters before it becomes a romance, but sometimes I want something chiller than that. And Theo is a really chill, safe, Slytherin option for Harry.

[lulucutie2nitexd]

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.From the House of Hearth

Lyney x Reader Angst

Requested but I accidentally posted the draft instead of saving it D:

★

Warnings: depression mention, cheating, kinda self harm

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Requested by @sailorstar9 I'm so sorry for deleting the original on accident. The Gorou one should hopefully be out by tomorrow if I don't need to go back to the hospital.

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Request: Lyney watches reader walk down the isle with their new husband after He tossed their relationship aside to have a 2 week fling with Lumine.

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I love this request so much I might write a part 2 / two way ending like a fluff and angst yk

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

｡･ﾟﾟ･　　 ･ﾟﾟ･｡

.

.

.

He who gave her rainbow roses. He who left his siblings to be with her. He who put her on the VIP list of every show. He who only wanted to be with Her. He who loved her popularity and fame. He who tossed aside everything, even You just for the almighty traveler. And Yet he has never given You a rainbow rose. He has never left Lynette or Freminet to spend time with you. He replaced you on the VIP list.

You thought you could trust him, I until the night of his performance at the Opera House. Swinging open the door, excited with a gift for him and ready to give him a good luck kiss. But it wasn't meant to happen. There the two where, in each others embrace kissing each other's cheeks and laughing happily together. Just as You and him once did.

Upon him noticing you, he did not even bat an eye. He simply did not care. He started at You, not smiling, no interest or loving expression that he used to hold when he looked at You. You could see it when he looked back at her, how his eyes lit up, how he smiled and came alive. But his next words are what truly broke You. The words that broke him too.

"My sincerest apologies, but I'm afraid it doesn't matter now does it?"

"oh please don't cry now, I don't want to deal with you. He said confidently. Lumine looking at him with confusion and guilt on her expression. He turns back to her "do not pay mind to my mistake." Lumine looking at You in an apologetic way before she pushed Lyney away and walks out of the room instantly. You did not see a face expression on him before you too turned around and left the room.

It's such a shame he threw away years of his relationship to be with her for only two weeks.

Years of healing, trying to trust again, was a very difficult process. But eventually it happens, when You meet your now significant other. The true man of your dreams. Better than any of your exes could ever hope to achieve. And now here You are walking down the isle, most beautiful and elegant clothing on. Flowers decorating the beautiful isle that You will walk down.

You and Lyney are still friends, yes. But he can only think why You would even consider torturing him so much by inviting him. Surely you know this pains him in the worst way possible right? His every regret flooding back to him, the way he misses you. The way he misses your affection, your voice, your scent, your quirks even your flaws.

Ever since his mistake that day, his fling with Lumine. The worst day of his life, his reason for his loss of motivation, his loss of happiness, his loss of light. He is completely dull, like a burn out lightbulb. He's tried so hard to win you back over, but he knows he's failed. He knows he's failed you, failed his siblings, failed himself.

Every night to ensure he can get away from his emotions he picks up a bottle. Ruining his health too.

Lumine in her dress, elegant and sweet, after the incident he lost her too. Lumine, who left Lyney after she realized her mistake. Lumine who apologized to You and became close to You. Lumine who did the right thing compared to Lyney. She's a bridesmaid.

He stares as You as You walk down the isle, ready to call yourself officially married with your significant other. Lyney's chest aching, he can feel his heart beat in his chest. Sounds being lost to him as he tears up. Aching stomach and the inability to stop himself from acting out.

"Does anyone have any objections?"

"WAIT! Please.. I object." Was all that could be heard.

★

Finished

Thinking about writing a part 2 like mentioned earlier

REQS OPEN AS USUAL SLOW RESPONSE DUE TO HEALTH ISSUES

[auncyen]

and another little scene THIS IS THE LAST ONE I'M POSTING UNTIL I UPDATE ON AO3 JUST BECAUSE I REALLY SHOULDN'T SPOIL MY OWN FIC THIS MUCH but like. I'm also just excited that I'm writing. And the mental image of this scene has been in my head for way too long lol

-

"You're…real this time, right?"

Siffrin has always been on the quiet side, but this question could have been whispered by a mouse. You nearly miss it; Isabeau reacts first while you're still parsing it. "Sif? Of, of course we're real! Can't you tell??"

Siffrin flinches away, shrinking into their cloak with a faint "sorry", and you know.

They can't. They can't tell. Not well enough to be sure.

Have they been hallucinating? How long, that they're doubting their own sight right now? "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry," they whisper. "I'm sorry, I lost you. I'm sorry, I have to make sure you're fine, I have to be sure, I have to loop back--"

"Siffrin," you say loudly, just as their hand lights on their dagger. Why is he reaching for his dagger if he's going to loop back? No, no, that's not the issue right now. The issue is that they cannot loop back. You'll forget everything. He won't tell you again, not if this is how things end. You cannot have him looping. "If--If you can't trust that you're seeing us," you say, thinking quickly. "What if I touched you?"

Your question works in that it distracts Siffrin. His eye widens as they stare at you, the surprise clear as crystal on his face. "Huh?"

His hand falls away from the dagger.

You don't like that it was there to begin with, but you need to convince them while you have their attention. "If you're doubting sight and sound, touch would be the next logical option. It may be distasteful to you, but…" You raise your left hand with a deliberate slowness so that it's clearly in their vision. "If I touched you, would that be enough reassurance?"

He stares at you for a moment. The 'no' is already ringing in your mind. If he goes for the dagger again you'll need to use your Craft to slow him down and grab him--or hope Isabeau grabs him--but why would he reach for the dagger? He said he was going to loop, he said he was going to loop last night, how does he choose when to loop when he's made it clear he can't control the looping itself? The only answer coming readily to mind is abhorrent--

His hand moves up, further away from the dagger. Both of his hands reach up to the top of his head, snatching his hat off to hold by the brim as he stares at you, light eye unblinking.

"You want me to put my hand on your head?" you guess, trying to make sense of the silent response. The question elicits a nod, and it seems…logical enough--their cloak and gloves would mute any touch on his body, and the face and neck would likely feel too vulnerable--so you move your hand toward the bird's nest of hair, still slowly, not wanting to alarm them. He's so tense. "Breathe, Siffrin." You don't want them panicking, and you certainly don't want them fainting, either.

He breathes deeply in a familiar way. In and out. He still stares at your hand as it approaches, but at least he knows it's coming. Both his hands are occupied with the hat and won't make a Craft sign by accident. He has time to object, either with words or a gesture, if he realizes it will be too much.

You lower your hand into his hair in a waltz count, one-two-three. Immediately you encounter tangles and take care of where your fingers go in his unkempt hair. He tenses up even more, his breath hitching, but otherwise doesn't move. You hope that means they trust you.

"I'm real, Siffrin," you tell him, putting all the self-assurance you can muster into your voice. "As are Isabeau, Mirabelle, and Boniface. We're fine. We were only separated for a few moments."

"…Anything could have happened," they whisper.

"Nothing did. And even if it had, we're a bit hardier than that."

He winces. "I'm sorry I lost you."

You can't help the dry exasperation that creeps back into your voice. "Then don't storm off again. Straightforward enough, don't you think?"

He quickly nods several times, the motion frantic under your hand.

"We're here, and we're okay. You're…" They're not fine. You can't bring yourself to say that they're fine when it's plainly untrue, especially after how often they've misused that word in the past day, but you need to reassure them somehow. "You aren't alone. We're here with you. Do you trust me?"

The nods are less frantic this time. He seems to be calming down. He's still rigid, though. Touch has done its job and now it's only making them uncomfortable, so you start to take your hand away--

And then they bunt your hand with their forehead. Their eye darts up to look you in the face before it widens in horror. Siffrin takes two quick steps back, his gaze dropping back to the floor as he jams his hat back on. "Sorry! Sorry!" With his shoulders hunching up, his cloak and hat eclipse his entire expression.

"Siffrin?" Mirabelle asks. Isabeau and Boniface are both looking at you, likely trying to gauge what Siffrin did that they're apologizing. You're trying to figure that out yourself. The way he moved…certainly, you're not harmed. They tapped against your hand with only a little bit of force; if anything, it reminded you of how one of Ka Bue or Poteria's many friendly stray cats, comfortable around people, would sometimes ease up to you as you were reading in the open and bunt your hand to signal they wanted to be pet.

You doubt that was anywhere near Siffrin's intention. They hate being touched. Still… you wonder what that expression meant. Before he'd gotten scared, the expression he'd given you had been almost…

The only way you'll figure it out is if you ask. And if, hopefully, you get a straight answer. "What are you apologizing for this time?"

[neko-loogi]

Heeeyy, I'm back with a new Helluva Boss opinion post thingy

Okay so, the Mammon episode- it was alright I guess? Tbh it didn't strike me as super awesome or anything, it's just kinda there?

Anyway, let's talk about it a little bit!

So I wanted to start off with Mammon himself, I'm gonna be honest I don't hate him but I don't like him either. I'll admit I do actually like his voice, I'm sure y'all might find it annoying but I dunno, I like his accent and the way he talks is kinda funny. His design tho? Eh, it could use some work.

For instance, his eyes are weird, like every time he was on screen my first thought was always: "Wow, he looks like Robin from TTG". I also hate how he's shaped like your typical "fat" character from cartoons. But for some reason they decided to give him skinny arms but a round body. He's weirdly disproportionate, which is disappointing because they definitely could make a better plus sized character design. But oh well, knowing Viv, she wouldn't even try.

I will admit his true demon form is kinda cool, except that I actually thought he was going to be a caterpillar or something but he's a spider? I swear, Viv has some weird design choices.

Moving on, the episode was cluttered as hell. It had way too much stuff in it, which made the episode feel eternal. Not only that but the episode has 4 songs.. FOUR FUCKING SONGS- When will Viv realize that not every HB episode needs a song? Like is this shit an animated series or a fucking musical? Make up your mind Viv-

Anyway, I'm glad this episode focuses on Fizz, but his character did feel a bit off in certain scenes, but aside from that everything else was fine. (I found that scene of Fizz talking to the deaf imp child while using sign language to be very endearing).

Alright, I'mma point out a few other things real quick:

Ozzie's relationship with Fizz is absolutely adorable and I love them so much. However I don't understand why they portray their relationship as a bad thing? Like, fucking Queen Bee is dating Vortex (who's a hellhound, and they are a lower class than imps) and nobody says anything and she's a sin- so why can't Ozzie do the same??

I also happen to noticed that Fizz and Mammon's relationship is similar to Angel Dust and Valentino's- I just hope they don't completely butcher my boy Fizz, because he's the ONLY character I genuinely like from this god awful series.

Edit: I find it outrageous that Fizz apologized to Blitzo in the previous episode for the accident and claims that yes, he was affected by it but he's gotten over it. Yet here, he's super insecure about it and seeks approval from Mammon. It doesn't make sense- I swear it's like the characters are evolving backwards (as in the character development just resets and they act like nothing happened).

I also just wanted to say that this character made me feel super uncomfortable throughout the episode (which I guess is the point, but honestly they didn't need to add him.) Like, was it really necessary to include this Reddit mod, Discord user incel with an obsessive personality to the episode? He doesn't really contribute much other than to probably trigger people who have dealt with some form of harassment like this, and to make Fizz look super helpless so that Blitzo can defend him.

Blitzo didn't contribute anything to the episode, they didn't need to add him either. Like we get it he's the main character but that doesn't mean he has to be in every fucking episode doing absolutely nothing other than saying a bunch of curse words or shooting someone.

In conclusion, I didn't like this episode that much. I was expecting more to be completely honest.

Sorry if this post was a little long- I wanted to write more stuff but I don't want to burden y'all with reading a lot of shit lmao. Anyway, that's all, love ya <3