#also if Jonathan’s too sick to work | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tritoch · 2 months

Note

Have you got any thoughts to share about Sphene? I saw your post about how misrepresented FFXIV’s female characters are, and I’ve been hoping to see anything more than the typical “Evil AI colonizer etc.” or “Tragic woman who can never change ever” or “Wuk Lamat’s girlfriend”. Maybe our interpretations will differ but I’ll be happy if you can provide anything more complex than those.

Sure! Throwing all this under a read-more for anyone who hasn't finished 7.0 yet. I think I'll probably expand on this more later but wanted to get initial thoughts down. (Note after writing: I meant this to be brief but uhhhh brevity is not my strong suit sorry. This take just sort of ends abruptly because I realize I'm rambling.) Again, spoilers through the end of 7.0 MSQ.

I think Sphene is the sharpest work the game has done yet in casting the antagonist as the noble double of the protagonist (a well it returns to a lot with Emet, and Zenos, and Golbez, and...). But because the protagonist here is Wuk Lamat and not the Warrior of Light, that's also a much more defined and interesting role. To me, Wuk Lamat is, above all, the Righteous Queen, who rules thoughtfully, wisely, and justly, and whose claim to the throne is justified by her moral clarity. Sphene, in turn, is also a wise and good queen, one who undertakes all her actions with her people first in her hearts, a sense of compassion towards all, and a clear eye for the consequences and costs of her intended course of action. And it leads to utter disaster, for her, her people, and the people of Tural. That rocks!

The first half of 7.0 is about justifying the fact that Wuk Lamat's going to be Dawnservant. Wuk Lamat is compassionate, curious, wise, and open-minded. She wins over rebels and malcontents not by asserting her authority or by strength of force, but by taking her obligations to them (as her subjects) seriously. She knows many of her subjects personally and takes a great interest in their lives, and she respects even those who openly oppose her.

And everything Wuk Lamat does, Sphene does to 11. Wuk Lamat respects her subject peoples and is curious about their cultures? Sphene forcibly annexes Yyasulani, but goes out of her way and expends Alexandria's limited resources to enable the remaining Xak Turali to live in their accustomed way if desired (…to the extent allowed by the new permanent lightning storms and the internal conflicts caused by regulator adoption). Wuk Lamat cares about her people not just in the abstract but as individuals? Sphene visits sick kids, knows them by name! Wuk Lamat understands the burden of rulership is too great and cedes half her power to her brother? Sphene recognizes her own weaknesses and makes a deal with the devil to keep Alexandria's culture alive! Wuk Lamat is willing to die for her people? Sphene will forcibly traumatize herself into being a better queen, if that's what rulership demands.

For an expansion that spends the first half being like "wow isn't this perfect candidate for the crown so likable and humble? wouldn't it be nice to be ruled by a good king?," it sure is funny that the final boss is THE QUEEN ETERNAL and she hits you with attacks like LEGITIMATE FORCE and ABSOLUTE AUTHORITY and ROYAL DOMAIN. This, to me, is Sphene's role: she complicates and questions the themes we've developed in the first half. Most importantly to me, she makes us ask: what is devotion to a people or culture even worth?

There's a thing I kept thinking of constantly during Dawntrail, not because I think it directly influenced the game in any way but because the parallels were so stark and startling. It's Jonathan Hickman's New Avengers #18 (2014). Truthfully, I'm not a big comics guy; I only know this sequence because Ta-Nehisi Coates cited it as inspiration for his Black Panther run on Twitter once (I also didn't read TNC's run, I was following him for politics talk). Forgive me, comics people, if I get any details wrong. The parallels are almost comical, though. It goes like this:

A superhuman secret society formed of some of the smartest heroes (and villains) in the land re-forms to oppose an existential threat caused by incursions from other dimensions that threaten to cause literal collisions between Earth and its alternate dimension counterparts. Seeing no other alternatives, they undertake work on a weapon to destroy these other worlds. T'challa—king of a fictional hyperadvanced nation called Wakanda, and also the superhuman Black Panther—meets with his ghostly predecessors, the previous Black Panthers/kings, for he fears the moral stain on his soul and the souls of the people of Wakanda, if they survive explicitly by killing their alternate counterparts, will be too heavy to bear. His ancestors are not impressed.

To them, there is no question at all. A king's duty may be complex in the execution, but it is simple in its conception. Your people come before all others. Always. This is, must be, the fundamental ethic of a good king. To do otherwise would be a betrayal of the social order on which this imagined good monarchy is built. In a situation like this, the only option is to do what you must to protect them. "Will there be a cost? Yes. Might the universe burn? Let it. . . . You will kill them all if it means Wakanda stands. The golden city must never fall."

"I will do what I must" is Sphene's guiding principle. It is so important to her that when she recognizes that her sentimental attachments are making her waver in her duty, she severs them entirely, sacrificing her whole identity to the throne. It is also implicitly Wuk Lamat's position: she has no choice but to fight Sphene because to do otherwise would be to fail to protect her people. In fact, it's briefly even sort of the Warrior of Light's position, as when you tell Sphene before her trial that you understand what you must do, which is shut her down to protect others.

(One quick thought about the Warrior of Light: one cool thing about the antagonist this time being a double in a more exact way than Emet or Zenos is that it means other characters get a chance to relate to her differently than Wuk Lamat. The Warrior of Light, for example, is pressed into her service immediately upon your first meeting as the Queen's Champion, there to defend her if need be against all evil. This role is further affirmed by both robot Otis and Endless Otis, who essentially hand off their role as her knight to you, and reinforced when you flash back to the "might I call upon your aid" moment right before the end. Except, of course, you are loyal not just to her, but to the principles she represents, which her own acts betray, and so your ultimate act of aid is to essentially pass judgment on her and execute her. In a sense, you become the internal safeguard that a political system is supposed to have to protect against this very issue, and which Alexandria explicitly lost when it cast out/forgot Otis. Very Voeburt/ShB tank quests, it owns.)

But really, it's Sphene who embodies this sort of grim logic best. Aside from her transformation into the Queen Eternal, it's also why she suggests you simply become Alexandrians. It's the only way for her to reconcile her values and worldview, which have backed her into a corner where preserving Alexandria has come to mean a maximalist declaration of war on all life outside its borders because the kind of absolutely pain-free life she envisions for her citizens is completely unsustainable.

In this reading, one of Sphene's main beats is to unsettle what has preceded her in MSQ. In nearly all respects, she shares your values. She prizes life, is curious about other cultures, believes in the greatest good for the greatest possible number. But she is also a queen, and therefore irrevocably (in her eyes) tied to her state. Gulool Ja Ja and Wuk Lamat (and Koana) are the mythical wise rulers, thank god--but what if Wuk had inherited a Turali state that wasn't desperately in need of cross-cultural understanding, but one in a state of war? What value would her deep love for the people of Tural have held then? Sphene says, it would have held no value. If the survival of your people means harming the innocent, you harm the innocent. Kingship allows for no alternatives.

But she also concedes, in the very next breath, that she is still kind of wrong. Because what happened here was not inevitable, despite her programming (a brief note: to me Sphene being programmed is exactly the same as Emet being maybe-tempered, it's a fantasy gloss on the idea of social and cultural education. "I was programmed for this" is really no different from "I was trained and educated for this"), because the truth is that this kind of thoughtful, principled devotion to the state and its people is also a form of sentimental attachment, in the end. One that is maintained not because it is natural, and necessary, but because the monarch, too, likes it, and gets something from it.

In so many ways, in so many senses, the monarch is the state. Kings and queens may fancy themselves merely a reflection of their people's needs and desires, but of course even a cursory glance at history will tell you that far more often, states reflect their rulers. Sphene and Wuk Lamat both suggest that their conflict was inevitable, but was it? Or is the truth, as Sphene glancingly acknowledges here, that she turned her own fears and desires into the same policy goals that led to this tragedy? And if so...what does that say of our Good Queen, Wuk Lamat? Perhaps this could be different if they met earlier, says Wuk Lamat. But when? When did Wuk Lamat ever not love her people so dearly that she would not have sacrificed herself for them, or caused mass death for the sake of their survival? When did Sphene not believe the Endless to be people, or the preservation of Alexandria to be the most important thing? Maybe she means "had we met before you met Zoraal Ja," but of course, we the player actually saw their meeting. And we know that Sphene even then was not the hapless naif she'd like to pretend. She always knew exactly what she was doing.

We know the price of this kind of thinking, this Hobbesian view that states are engaged in a struggle of all against all. Living Memory lets you walk through it. To preserve Tural, we exterminate the Endless. We befriend them, learn about their lives, promise to remember them, and then we destroy them and their homes, leaving nothing but a bleak blank landscape and the sound of wind. This is what Sphene would have done to Tural and Eorzea. Indeed, it's what she's already doing to the people of Yyasulani, because no amount of well-intentioned aid can make up for trapping people under the dome for 30 years and systematically eroding their culture through the resonators.

To me, this is what makes Sphene really work, that way she has of forcing Wuk Lamat and the player to commit the same kinds of sins she has. We'd like to think ourselves better than her, but of course, we've already reconciled with and integrated Mamook's brutal eugenicist regime back into Turali society well before we ever met Sphene. At the end of our long "wow isn't having a wise queen cool???" expansion, we are met with "Legitimate Force" and "Absolute Authority" and see them for what they truly are: nothing but tools of violence. No longer does the idea of the Warrior of Light hanging around Tural as Wuk Lamat's advisor have the same attraction, now that we have been reminded of the way the putatively unquestionable logic of kingship can ultimately lock even the wisest and kindest rulers into a path of war and exploitation and destruction.

I think Sphene is FFXIV's most interesting and nuanced depiction yet of a leader. She really, truly, wants nothing more than to save her people and protect them from pain. But even seemingly loving and compassionate goals like these can readily lead us down dark paths. She's a "hard men make hard choices"-type character, a noble but misguided opponent, but as a loving and elegant fairy queen instead of a grizzled knight or extremely sad man. She fucking rocks.

#sphene #ffxiv #dawntrail spoilers #dt spoilers #spoilers #overtagging this one lmao #sphene alexandros xiv

312 notes · View notes

morganski-19 · 23 days

Text

The One Where Eddie Gets Another Job

Steve and Robin walk into the coffee house after work. Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle already sitting in their spot. Robin sits next to Nancy on the couch while Steve flops into the armchair.

“How was the first day of school,” Nancy asks Steve.

Steve groans. “I have three Gabriels in my class and all of them want to be called Gabe. And two of them have a last name that starts with H. Then the fire alarm went off because Beverly decided that popcorn was the perfect lunchtime snack. Three moms tried to hit on me when I was doing car line, and I think one of the kids was sick. So that’s about to be spread around my classroom.”

“That’s,” she starts, trying to find something positive to say. “I have nothing, that sounds like shit.”

“I could never be a teacher,” Robin sighs into the couch. “I didn’t like kids that much to begin with. And after the things you tell me, never.”

“I don’t know,” Argyle pipes in. “It could be fun. And very rewarding.”

“I could totally see you being a kindergarten teacher,” Steve suggests.

The group does a vague nod in agreement.

“For anyone wondering how my day was,” Robin perks up. “I had a very nice conversation with this Italian man. He’s opening up a small bakery with his wife and wanted someone to go over the contracts with him. He’s bringing me some pastries as a thank you when they get up and running.”

The conversation about work continues for a bit, each of them sharing how their day was and destressing.

“Where’s Eddie,” Steve eventually asks. He’s normally here by this point.

Nancy starts laughing. “Oh just wait.”

“What,” Jonathan looks up from his laptop. “Did we miss something?”

“Like I said,” Nancy continues to laugh over her coffee. “Just you wait.”

Like speaking of him suddenly made him appear, Eddie walks out of the backroom of the coffee house. With an apron tied around his waist and a pencil behind his ear. He heads over to an empty table with a wet rag, wiping it down.

“Oh my god,” Robin whispers with surprise.

“Is that Eddie, working?” Argyle questions. “Here?”

Nancy nods, her laughter getting louder. “Yes.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Eddie working,” Robin comments. “It’s like watching an animal out in the wild.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Eddie groans. Shoving the rag in his apron pocket and walking over.

Robin smiles. “I meant you to.”

“How long have you been working here?” Steve asks.

Eddie shrugs. “A few days now.”

“I thought you were working on being a tattoo artist,” Jonathan says. Taking a break from editing photos on his laptop to invest in this conversation.

“That I am. But I needed to shut down my Etsy page for art commissions, because people were being a bunch of dicks, so now I’m down one job. So I got another. Because rent is fucking expensive.”

Nancy makes a gesture with her hand. “And that’s with it rent controlled.”

Eddie makes a gesture toward her. “Also, I blew all of my savings moving out here, so I am trying to build those back up.”

“Aw, look at you being financially responsible,” Robin teases. Poking Eddie’s arm.

“You’re growing up,” Nancy eggs on. Feigning wiping away tears.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You guys are the worst. I knew it was a bad idea getting a job here.”

“I don’t think I ever envisioned you being a barista,” Argyle notes. “Bartender, yes. Barista, no.”

“Well, I work the late shift too. So I am both of those things.”

“Oo,” Robin turns around on the couch. Standing on her knees to see him better. “Do you get a discount? Can we abuse it?”

Eddie shakes off her hand. “Yes, I get a discount, no you cannot abuse it. I sort of need this job, so I’d rather not get fired. It says strictly in the rules that I cannot use it for friends.”

Robin falls back down, defeated. “Boo, you’re no fun.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Eddie walks away behind the counter. Cleaning off the counter and starting to make someone’s order.

“I’m going to go get something to drink,” Steve says, standing up. “You want anything, Rob?”

“Just a green tea. Not feeling coffee right now.”

Steve nods while going over to the counter. Sitting down at one of the stools. “So, you work here now.”

“I thought that was already established.” Eddie hands off the drink he was making to the girl further down. Coming to stand in front of Steve.

“Is that why you couldn’t come over last night? You could have said that.”

Eddie shrugs. “I didn’t want you to know, quite yet. Thought you wouldn’t really like how much I bounce around jobs.”

“You’re not though. You have a job, you just needed a second one. No shame in that.” Steve leans further across the bar. “It also helps that I find bartenders to be really hot.”

“Steven,” Eddie gasps. “I am at work.”

Steve smirks. “I know.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Did you want anything, or are you just here to flirt with me?”

“Only if flirting with you gets me a discount. Otherwise, I’ll just take my business elsewhere.”

“Is that really all I am to you?” Eddie starts making Steve’s usual drink order. Waiting for the espresso to brew.

“And Rob wanted a green tea.”

Eddie nods, pouring some hot water into a glass and adding a tea bag. “How was work?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Don’t even get me started. The first day is always hard.”

“Oh, I bet.” Eddie steams the milk, adding it to the top of the espresso and drizzling it with caramel.

“And I just can’t wait until I get to hear all of the single, and not so single, PTA moms throwing their cheap pick-up lines at me.” Steve says that with a leading tone. Hoping that Eddie takes that in the direction he wants it to.

Eddie slides the drinks across the bar. “That something they do,” he says, with a lilt of jealousy.

“Every year. Without fail.”

“Any way I can help with that?”

“Come over later and find out.” Steve gives him a flirtatious smile. “What do I owe you?”

Eddie waves his hand. “It’s on the house.”

“I was joking before. Seriously, what so I owe you.”

“And now I’m being serious. I get a free drink a day that I can give out to a friend, so consider that covering Rob’s, and then I am personally paying for yours.”

“What was it about needing to save up money?”

“That doesn’t apply to you, sweetheart.” Eddie leans over the bar a little bit, palms pressed into the edge of the counter.

“Steve,” Robin yells from the couch. “I thought you were getting us drinks.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m paying next time, no arguments.”

“Whatever you say so.”

He walks back over to the group and hands Robin her tea.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low,

@thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady,

@apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic,

@fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging,

@potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @gregre369

@my2amgaythoughts, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @emmabubbles, @eriquin, @grtwdsmwhr

@croatoan-like-its-hot, @dreamercec, @dreamy-jeans137

#morgan's friends au #<---other parts are under this tag for the new people #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things fanfic #modern au #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #jonathan byers #argyle stranger things #jargyle #steddie #kinda #they're not fully there yet but they are trying #pre ronance #friends au #alternate universe

245 notes · View notes

wynnyfryd · 8 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 45

part 1 | part 44 | ao3

Nancy, Jonathan, and some guy with the longest hair Steve's ever seen are standing in a loose circle with Eddie and his bandmates, talking and sort of dance-nodding along to The Power of Love by Huey Lewis (a fact that Steve absolutely intends to mock his boyfriend for the second he gets the chance), and Steve, like, mentally girds his loins.

He and Jon are cool with each other, and he and Eddie are obviously, uh, plenty warmed up to one another by now, but the rest of them...

One's a stranger, one's an ex who seems drunk as shit and is currently so invested in spinning around to the music that she hasn't opened her eyes to notice him, and the other three are thawing to him at a truly glacial pace. Steve hasn't so much as been invited to watch a rehearsal yet because Eddie's 'still working on them' and needs 'a bit more time, but don't worry, they'll come around.'

They don't openly scowl when he and Robin approach, though, so Steve takes that as a win.

"Harrington!" Eddie calls, bowing deeply to add, "Lady Buckley."

Steve would feel stung by the surname if not for how downright giddy Eddie sounds. God, he loves tipsy Eddie; fucking Disney cartoon boy.

"Munson," he plays along, giving him a sly grin and a shoulder bump as he sidles up next to him. "Didn't know you were allowed to leave the basement at these things."

Jeff interrupts his air-guitaring to glare at Steve, bur Eddie holds out a hand and assures him that Steve's just fucking around. Before Steve can apologize or defend himself, Long Hair Guy leans in across the circle, his eyes wide and intense and bloodshot to hell.

"Dude," he greets. "You have. Such beautiful hair."

Steve barks a laugh. Robin rolls her eyes. Jonathan also rolls his eyes, but it seems more fond and less annoyed. "Can't take you anywhere," he mutters to the guy, then asks them, "You guys met Argyle yet?"

Steve holds out a hand. Confusion washes over him as he processes what Jonathan just said. "Uh." Argyle. "Like the sweater?"

"Yeah, man," Argyle smiles, dopey and slow. Sure. The guy in head-to-toe tie-dye and a neon green fanny pack is named Argyle. Why not? "My parents wanted a sheep, but they got me, instead."

Jonathan laughs like it's the funniest joke he's ever heard. Steve's pretty sure he's too sober for this conversation.

They exchange handshakes, and Robin asks if she can touch the guy's hair, and they all slip into easy, friendly conversation, naturally splintering into smaller groups of twos and threes. Steve's just getting the rundown on all the 'sick new gear' the band got for Christmas when the song changes, and god, this night just could not get better.

"Oh, fuck off!" Eddie groans in the DJ's direction.

Steve has to practically swallow his lips to keep himself from cackling, and then he gives up and does it, anyway, because Eddie looks like he just sucked a lemon while watching a dog die as his bandmates all start sing-shouting along. "We're talking away..."

"No." Eddie wheels around and points a finger at Steve, because Steve's singing, too.

Steve just sings louder. "I don't know what, I'm to say!"

"Oh, my god." He scrubs a hand down his face, dragging the skin down until Steve can see the pale pink of his inner eyelid. "Nobody I know has any goddamn taste!"

"Maybe you don't have any taste!" Robin teases, bouncing around and swinging her arms haphazardly to the music.

Nancy backs her up with a mumbled "Yeah!" but she's still spinning around in such tight circles that Steve doubts she has a single clue what's happening in the argument right now. Which is kind of endearing, actually. He likes how willing she is to stick up for people.

The chorus kicks in; Gareth air-drums the switch to half time just before Frank does an honestly super impressive falsetto of 'in a day or twoooooo', and Eddie despairs while Steve laughs his fucking head off.

—

part 46

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle stranger things #corroded coffin #my writing #my fic

348 notes · View notes

shineonyoucrazyyandere · 4 months

Note

Which joestar do you think would be the worst yandere? And why

Pick your poison! I like to think the Joestar’s all have their little traits that shine the most based on their personality (so whose the worst can depend on what you’re uncomfortable with). Going to do just the og verse jojo’s for this 1-6.

Jonathan : Very sweet almost intoxicatingly so, but he tends to end up a bit overprotective/just a bit babying. Insisting he does things for you, if you have some issue somewhere else? Why not let him resolve it. Don’t fret over too much he has the means to take care of you. There might be a time or two your room might be locked if you’re a little more stubborn than usual

Joseph: What is this thing called “personal space” ? It almost sounds like a foreign language to this man. He totally didn’t mess certain things up so you happen to meet up with him. Not sure why your date stood you up? He couldn’t possibly give an answer other than they’re not worth your time since they didn’t bother showing up. He should take you to this great place he loves going to after a long day.

Jotaro: Stalking type usually, and mows past anything that he might feel gets in the way of you and himself. He’s used to punks, so he’s not afraid to pummel someone if they don’t get the message to scram. When it comes to classes, he’s glancing at you every so often, maybe there’s a “doodle” or two in his notebook. Need to walk somewhere? He’ll walk with you. If you’re hiding out to be alone, he ends up finding you. You’re probably the reason he learns any building’s layout in the first place. Clubs or class cleaning doesn’t stop Jotaro either, he’ll wait as long as it takes. Being sick at home doesn’t stop him either, usually there’s some kind of hot soup/dish that’s good to eat while sick sitting in your room somehow. (Not to mention potential kidnapping later down the line if you’re not really cooperating)

Later Parts like 4 and 6, he’s pretty similar in dropping you off things even if you never once told him your address. (He has a decent memory of these things). Similarly Jotaro has any phone numbers you have in his contacts, and he’ll have a talk personally with anyone that he isn’t fond of approaching you. He tends to have you in the back of his mind while out on his studies, or writing a paper, and yet again drawings somewhere he’s compelled to place them. Every so often he checks in on you (whether you want this or not doesn’t matter). Broken down car? It’s either replaced swiftly or he’s driving you places himself. Maybe he somehow (forces) nudges you to live with him.

Josuke : He’s head over heels for you, and similar to Joseph he’s going to take any opportunity to squeeze himself into your life. He just so happens to have some leftover lunch from that place you like? You looked sad when they had sold out of your favorite meal there, so why doesn’t he help with that? Speaking of, maybe your eyes are drifting somewhere else. He steals any potential love letters to a crush and rewrites them, making it look like you’re confessing to him. He may also leave one of your favorite treats you like in its place. It’s an enigma to you how he found that out.

Giorno : He’s the don of the Italian mafia, he’s almost constantly worried about you. So if he has eyes on you, it’s almost immediate you lose autonomy whether born in Italy or a tourist. He’s clever in his ways to trap you, whether you’re resistant or not doesn’t matter. (he does think you’re cute with a strong head on your shoulders). There’s some of that charisma he possess all the same just like his father. Even if it doesn’t work on you, it makes others around you to trap you easily. Giorno likes to think he gives you a lot of leeway with voluntarily coming to him. He’ll meet you casually in coffee shops or wherever you’re willing to shop at. The bill is covered without you having to say a word. Any cash you used is miraculously brought back to you somehow. The blond isn’t afraid to get his hands a little dirty however when it comes to you. If he has to take something for you to step into his arms (whether it’s your ability to walk around outside or someone close to you) he’ll do whatever it takes.

Jolyne : Sure she stalks somewhat, but like her father she can be bold in taking care of the competition. She’s not afraid to hold your hand or finding a way for you two to do so. Eavesdropping is something she does occasionally, and anyone that wants to stomp on your heart is going to get stomped themselves. She does delay you with stone free (or outright captures you) if Jolyne doesn’t want you to leave. It’s impossible to shake her off, no matter what you try to do. Of course she made a copy of your apartment key, what if there’s an emergency? Maybe she wanted to make you breakfast. Huh? What do you mean she can’t just walk in unannounced? Don’t be ridiculous.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere jjba #yandere jjba imagines #yandere jjba x reader #jjba imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere jotaro kujo #yandere jonathan joestar #yandere joseph joestar #yandere josuke higashikata #yandere giorno giovanna

204 notes · View notes

cillianhead · 1 year

Note

Hey hey, I just found your blog and I really like your writing - especially Sitting Pretty since I'm a sucker for those Crane fics. :3

Would you maybe be up for some kind of comfort/fluff fic with Crane?

I am always up for some comfort/fluff when it comes to Dr Jonathan Crane. He's so babygirl <3

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.... thank you so much for your request!

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby || Jonathan Crane x Reader

warnings: none really, some brief mentions of violence, crying, angsty but also fluffy and comforting at the end, not really anything that bad to be honest, sort of non-canonical to anything that actually happened in the films.

It had been around a week since you had seen your boyfriend of three years. This was the longest you had gone without seeing Jonathan, without even hearing a peep from him. You even went to his work, he hadn't been there either. You knew what sort of dangerous work he did outside of Arkham and also within it, you knew the dangers and the risks he faced every time he left your apartment. You were still hopelessly devoted to him, despite the bad things that he has done and continues to do. You knew he would never hurt you. Him being gone felt like someone had ripped your heart out... like your soul was slowly being eaten away. Where was he? Was he even still alive? No. You mustn't think like that.

It was only a week, maybe he just needed some time away. Though he would've at least taken time off work, surely? His work told you he hadn't called in sick but he was supposed to be there. But he wasn't.

You hadn't cried. You found yourself growing more and more numb to the absence of Jonathan. It was like your body trying to reject a foreign object, trying to spit him out of your heart. It was painful and agonizingly slow, you knew you could never get over him, especially if you never got to say goodbye. His things lying around your apartment were a painful reminder of the fact he was gone. And he probably was never coming back.

You hadn't slept, at least not very well, in four days. You'd barely been eating either, maybe a stale cracker or two every now and then but you couldn't bring yourself to eat any proper meals. The best you could do was stare at the tiled wall as you stood in the scalding hot shower, trying to burn away the grief.

With the growing hunger and the fact you barely slept, paranoia was also sprouting within you, like some sort of sickly weed. You were worried that if Jonathan had been captured, whatever got him, was coming for you next. Every tiny little noise, every rumble, or car horn outside sent you running to the comfort of your shared bed. The one that smelt like him. You really couldn't sleep. Every shadow looked like some sort of evil horned figure ready to devour you whole, your eyes wide and frozen, helplessly full of fear. You thought about how Jonathan would assess this situation, how nerdy he got when you were afraid, in its own way you found it comforting the way he explained the body's reaction to fear and the way he explained the mind's power over the body.

The sleep you did get would be full of nightmares or vividly heartbreaking dreams. There was one you couldn't get over, a dream so sweet, more like a memory than anything else. Jonathan coming home from work, taking off his clothes and crawling into bed with you. His hands caressed your back softly, arms cradling you like you could shatter at any moment if he held you too tight. It felt so painfully real, that even when you began to wake up you could still feel him there. Still feeling his arms around you.

"Jonathan..." You whispered a sigh of relief, his arms pulled away from you as your heart raced with joy. Sitting up and looking around to find yourself just as alone as you had been for the past week. That's when you began to cry. "Jonathan..." You sobbed into your hands, you couldn't fall asleep after that. It was four in the morning, and the room was pretty much pitch black as you cried to yourself like a baby needing its mother.

Even more time passed. You were hysterical, you didn't pick up your phone when your friends called, you didn't leave the house, you didn't eat, and you most definitely didn't sleep. You were in bad shape, to say the least. It was that time of the year when the rain began to pour, your glass walls showed the bruised sky and the lightning it unleashed upon Gotham. You didn't work, Jonathan insisted on you staying at home, for him to provide for you. You were pretty happy staying at home and doing as you pleased. But now... it felt so different, there was no one to come home to you. You were pretty certain that the love of your life had died and you were going to spend the rest of your time alone. You knew you could never love again.

As if the sky knew how you felt, it only rained harder, it rained for days and it never stopped. You sat on the couch with a blanket draped over you as you lifelessly stared out at the dark sky. It was the middle of the night, and you thought about sweet nothings you and Jonathan shared. You thought about how lucky you were to see that side of him, so lucky you weren't on the other end, seeing the scarecrow, full of fear toxin. You thought about Jonathan humming while he made you pancakes, thought about the way he wrote you love letters almost every morning before he left for work, thought about the way you both were ready to get married soon. You remembered him holding your stomach while you brushed your teeth before bed and saying in that beautiful voice of his; "One day, you and I, are gonna have a bunch of beautiful babies and we'll live far far away from here. Everything will be perfect."

You sobbed and nothing brought you out of it. The pain in your chest was unbearable, no stupid fucking sad song or badly written poem could ever express it. There was no comprehensible word in any language that could truly explain away the agony you were in. You were no longer paranoid that something was going to come and hurt you, in fact, if there was someone or something out there coming to get you, you'd happily let it come in and put you out of your goddamn misery.

It was two soft raps on your bedroom window from the fire escape that caught your attention. You froze and stopped your crying, listening for it again, wondering if maybe you were just hearing things.

It's when you hear them again that you manage to stand up on shaky legs and wander into your bedroom that you see a shadow, leaning its weight against the window tiredly. It was him. With all the energy you could muster up, you ran to the window and slid it open before grabbing ahold of him and pulling him into your bedroom. You felt like you were going to have a heart attack.

"Y/N," Jonathan whispered. You didn't say a word, just turned on the lamp to light up the room. If this was a dream, you were going to try and enjoy every second of it. If this was the only way you could see your Jonny then you would take in every moment. "I... I missed you." And when you turned around, ready to scold him, ready to scream your lungs out at him for being gone, your heart broke all over again. His clothes were torn and covered in dried-up blood. Jonathan's neck was covered in bruises in the shape of handprints and his eyes were tired and void of any life. "Jonathan..." You whimpered, approaching him, he winced a bit as you placed your hands softly on his face. "Where have you been? What happened to you?" You were going to be angry at him before but now you understood... it wasn't his fault. He was soaking wet and you could see he had been crying too.

"I... I can't... really remember... I was drugged..." He mumbled, Jonathan's fingers curled around your waist and pulled you into a bone-crunching hug. He breathed you in, embracing you again was the only medicine he needed. Holding you was the only thing that could tell him was truly okay. "The Batman got me... I don't know how I managed to escape... just ended up here... I've been walking for days."

"Jonny..." You were crying as you sat him gently down on the bed. "I thought you..." You whispered. The strength was not in you to say it. "I thought you were..."

"Dead?" Jonathan croaked out, his voice was hoarse in a way that told you he had spent days on end screaming, from the torture he had been put through. "Yeah, me too." He said dryly.

You helped him undress. The clothes were pretty much useless so you tossed them on the floor in a pile to throw away later. "Let me clean you up..."

"No." He said. "Not right now..." Jonathan shook his head as he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest as you laid down in the bed with him again. "I just need to feel you..." His voice broke and in the process, your heart broke too. You could hear how defeated he was. "Need to feel you there." You understood, not saying another word as you clung to him. You listened to the sound of his heart, ear pressed right against his bare and bruised chest. You heard him sniffle, immediately causing you to pull away. "Oh, baby..." You cooed sadly, brushing a tear off his wounded cheek. The dam gates were open now as he began to cry, wincing at the salty tears mixing in with his busted face. "I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry that happened to you... I was so worried... you're here now... you're here with me... my baby."

"I thought about you every second," He sobbed. Jonathan looked like a helpless little child at that moment, his blue eyes were pitiful. "I thought I was going to die... thought I was never gonna get the chance to say goodbye to you..."

Together you sat crying, both with relief and sorrow as the rain poured outside, the heaven's crying with you. Everything felt okay again, for the both of you, now that you were with one another. "It's okay, Jonny." You tried to console him. Things had happened to him before, he'd been beaten up or caught in dangerous situations but he usually came home shrugging it off, this time you could tell he was severely traumatized, you could tell this was going to take a while for him to get over. Jonathan had that thousand-yard stare, that mischievous fire that usually lit up his eyes had been extinguished and now reflected the dreary weather outside. "I love you, baby, it's okay... nothing's ever going to hurt you again." You whispered, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. You kissed him as gently as you could, knowing his lip was swollen and split open, you could taste the metallic blood from his mouth and the saltiness of his tears.

"Y/N..." Jonathan wept, his face now buried in between your neck and your jaw. "It hurts." The tone of his voice was the most heart-shattering thing you'd ever heard.

"I know, my baby," You hushed as you laid back down again, caressing his hair that was still wet from the rain. "Nothing will ever hurt you again." You reassured once again. "Nothing's going to take you from my side."

You cried your own tears of sadness, relieved he was back in your arms, relieved that you were there to take care of him and nurse him back to health. The morning sun had begun to rise by the time you two had properly nestled into your bed, skin pressed together, legs intertwined. Jonathan slept in your arms, you held him like a baby, you couldn't sleep, too happy to have him in your arms again.

"As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine..." You whispered softly into his hair.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #Jonathan Crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #scarecrow x reader #batman #batman begins #batman dark knight #batman the dark knight #the dark knight rises #the dark knight trilogy #christopher nolan #christian bale

499 notes · View notes

feninina · 1 year

Text

𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙧 *ੈ✩‧₊˚

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

jonathan had a very twisted mind and he knew how to hid it perfectly. he also knew, since the moment your father brought you to him practically begging for his help that he was going to have too much fun with you; shaping you, deconstructing you to craft your mind into something so wrecked, so useless, that your only thought from now on would be him.

you were young, naive, beautiful; all that he could ever want and wish — and there you were, heartbroken and desperate, opening your heart to him maybe hoping he would help you, and, in jonathan’s eyes, that’s what he was going to do, he was going to cure you and make you the perfect trophy wife, to nobody else but him.

you were sick, and he had the perfect antidote for you.

“i know what a girl like you needs”

“you think, doctor? what is it?”

“yeah, to be fucked stupid”

i’m so very anxious and nervous to publish this but i also can’t wait omg 😭 anyways hope you enjoyed that little snippet

#jonathan crane x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x y/n #cillian smut #jonathan crane fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x you #cillian murphy x oc #i hope this makes sense #im so nervous

516 notes · View notes

libraryofgage · 1 year

Note

Please write for 42. Maybe it could be something dealing with Steve overhearing something he shouldn't have,maybe something the kids say, or Eddie says to someone. Whatever it is it makes him feel like shit. He talks to Eddie, or Robin (or both!) about how much he's changed over the past few years and how he didn't end up being the person everyone thought he'd be, but after what hes overheard he's crying because even though he did all he could he feels lonelier than ever.

Anon, I love you

Prompt 42 for this prompt list!

“Who’s laughing now?”

“…Clearly not you. You’re crying, dear God.”

I didn't use these quotes exactly, but I came close. It still fits them, though lmao

---

"I should be right back," Steve says, throwing open the van door before hopping out. The moment it closes, Eddie blasts the heavy metal he usually can't because of Steve's sensitive ears. Steve snorts with amusement and heads towards the diner, the smell of fried food and grilling beef overwhelming him the moment he opens the door.

Steve heads up to the counter, flashing a charming smile at Paula, a woman who's been working at the diner longer than Steve has been alive. "We got your usual almost ready, sugar," she tells him, returning the smile as she grabs a receipt from the turning rack and leads him over to the register.

It's a Friday night, which means the diner is bursting with teenagers hanging out in groups or trying to have a romantic date. Steve doesn't usually see anyone he feels like greeting when he picks up food, but a quick sweep this time reveals a table where Jonathan, Argyle, Nancy, Mike, and Will are sitting. Their table is close to the bar, but none of them seem to have noticed Steve because of their conversation, which is just fine with him.

If he gets dragged into a conversation, he might take too long and make Eddie worry. And if Eddie worries, he'll come bursting into the diner, and there are too many people in here that still blame him for...well, everything, for that to be safe.

"Your total is gonna be $12.93," Paula says, watching as Steve distractedly pulls a twenty from his wallet.

"Keep the change. I'll be waiting over there," he says, nodding to a bar stool somewhat close to where his friends are sitting. He then slides into said stool, leaning on the counter and trying to ignore how sticky it is.

He's close enough now to hear the tail-end of Argyle saying, "--eems like such a nice dude, though."

Mike snorts at him. "You didn't know Steve when he was dating Nancy," he points out.

Oh. They're...talking about him. Steve gets the feeling he should walk away, but he also feels stuck in the stool.

"He wasn't that bad," Nancy says. Silence follows her words, and Steve can imagine the looks she's getting. "Okay, yeah, he was an asshole."

"He smashed my camera," Jonathan says, and Steve wonders if he's imagining a trace of bitterness in his voice.

Here's the thing: Steve apologized for smashing the camera (though, he feels it was still justified) and got Jonathan a new one. A fancy, new one. But it doesn't sound like Jonathan is going to include that detail, too.

"He's a lot better now, though," Will says, and Steve wants to get him a new set of dice for trying to stick up for him.

He then wants to cry and maybe break something when he hears Jonathan and Mike snort and bark out a short laugh.

Steve feels himself grow tense as Nancy and Jonathan regale Argyle with how shitty he was in high school. He keeps waiting for one of the kids to refute or bring up how he's changed, but Mike only adds to it all while Will stays quiet, probably unwilling to get himself laughed at again (not that Steve blames him, honestly).

None of them actually point out how Steve's changed. They laugh at how much of a douchebag he was in high school, and Jonathan tells Argyle to "watch out for King Steve coming through" now that nothing is trying to kill them again.

And Steve feels sick to his stomach. Has...has he not actually changed? Is he really the same King Steve he was in high school? Is he still that asshole who didn't give a shit about others because he was just trying to survive himself, no matter who it hurt? Is this how everyone sees him?

"All right, sugar. Here's your cheeseburgers," Paula says, placing a bag in front of him and jerking him out of his thoughts. "One without tomato but with extra ketchup, and the other with grilled onions."

Steve blinks and smiles at Paula again. "Thanks. Same time next week?"

He waits to see Paula's amused smile and playfully dismissive wave before grabbing the bag and practically running out of the restaurant. He doesn't know if it's good or bad that nobody at the table seems to have noticed his presence or departure.

Steve jerks the door to the van open, not waiting for Eddie to turn the music down before hopping in and slamming it shut. He silently pulls on his seatbelt, holds the food in his lap, and stares at the glove compartment.

"Uh, you okay, Stevie?" Eddie asks, his hand lingering on the volume dial.

"I don't wanna talk about it here," Steve says. Because he's going to talk about it with Eddie, the only other person he trusts to be honest with him is Robin. But this is date night for him and Eddie, and even when he's drowning in self-doubt, Steve doesn't want anyone else to interrupt their date night.

Thankfully, Eddie just nods. "Okay, sweetheart," he says, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.

Steve doesn't say a word the whole drive, too consumed by forcing himself to focus on Eddie's hand on his thigh. There's a warmth that he feels through the fabric, grounding him and keeping his brain from spiraling too far.

When they finally park (a secluded area close enough to the local make-out spot to still see the romantic stars in the sky without getting caught by anyone else) Eddie turns to Steve and softly asks, "Wanna move to the back, sweetheart?"

Steve grips the bag in his lap tighter, takes a deep breath, and looks at Eddie. He feels a little bad for ignoring the question, but he can't help his worries and fears bubbling out now that they've stopped driving. "I've changed, right? Since high school?"

Eddie blinks, caught off guard by the sudden question. But then he nods. "Yeah, Stevie, you've definitely changed."

"Jonathan and Nancy were in the diner with Argyle, Mike, and Will," Steve says, trying and failing to seem more nonchalant by unbuckling himself and moving to the couch that barely fits in the back of the van. Eddie follows, sitting closer than necessary to eat the burger Steve hands to him. "They were...talking about me. High school me. King Steve. And Jonathan told Argyle to be wary of me. Do they really think I'm the same person?"

"Stevie-"

Steve doesn't let Eddie get far. He's too wrapped up in what happened, too consumed by self-doubt and guilt and the wish that he'd said something to them. His chest feels tight, he feels like the world is going to cave in on him, and the only thing keeping him steady is the way Eddie puts down his burger and pulls Steve into his lap. "And the worst part is that they were laughing. Will tried saying that I was better now, and they fucking laughed. Like it was ridiculous. Like I could never change.

"And I just....I wish I'd said something. I could have ruined their night so fucking easily, Eds. I could have turned around and asked if they always talked shit behind the backs of people who saved them. I could have asked if Jonathan didn't like the replacement camera I got him, or if he still used it to sneak photos of Nancy."

"Is that why you broke his camera? Fuck, I don't blame you."

Steve manages a slight smile for Eddie. "Thanks. I...I don't know. For all I've changed, it would have been so easy to just turn around and be who they thought I still was. And then I would've torn them down to the size of ants. And...and...I wish I had but I don't but I do, so I could've ended it with who's laughing now?"

Steve's chest feels a little looser, and that's a fucking relief, but then he feels Eddie's hand cradling his cheek. "Well, it's definitely not you, sweetheart. Your crying."

Oh. Eddie is right. He is crying. Steve hastily wipes at the tears before just giving up and leaning into Eddie's touch. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't apologize. I almost wish you had done it. And that I'd been there to see it."

"No, you don’t."

Eddie grins, pulling Steve closer so they're chest-to-chest, heart-to-heart. "Yeah, I do. I love when you get bitchy, sweetheart. Especially when it means we can be bitchy together."

Steve blinks, and he can't help laughing. The words were simple, but they still managed to erase all the doubt and some of the hurt. He still probably needs a few days before he can actually look at Jonathan or Nancy or Mike again, but he doesn't feel so immediately devastated.

"Somehow, that was the perfect thing to say," he tells Eddie, closing the distance between them to kiss his lips, getting a hint of ketchup on his tongue.

"Perfect enough to earn me some fun?" Eddie asks, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

Steve sighs dramatically, pretends to think about it as he actually laments that their burgers will get cold, and then pushes Eddie down on the couch.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington angst #steddie fluff #established steddie #prompt list #my writing #i hope you like it anon!

514 notes · View notes

bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

how people can change

steve harrington x gn!byers!reader

word count: 4,427

warnings: swearing, like one use of y/n, mentions of season one steve's bullshit, mentions of death, enemies to friends to more type beat

a/n: my very first *full* steve fic. look at us. who woulda thought? not me. i've been working on this since february. don't look at me, i know. i know. but i think i've gotten some sort of hold on how i'd like to write steve. some of the dialogue (season 2) isn’t mine. (also the title is a lyric from strange by celeste!) let me know what you think, okay? i love you. steve loves you. don't tell me if it's bad.

————

November 1984

The door slams behind you with a deafening thud, and you take the extra five seconds to lock it. You know, that action no one else in your family seems to be capable of performing.

The house is quiet, and you step over the map of Hawkins sprawling over the hardwoods, careful not to damage Will’s work.

Your keys clang against the table, knocking into your mother’s ashtray. It’s dead quiet again, and you freeze at a subtle interruption in the silence. There’s a muffled sound coming from somewhere else in your home, and frankly you’ve had enough of everything the last couple of days. Which is why Joyce sent you home to get some sleep, to clear your head.

There’s no denying that you have a soft spot for Will. He’s always been your buddy. And you love Jonathan, you do, and he’s got this sick ability to know what you’re thinking or feeling before you do, but he doesn’t need your protection like Will does.

Will is your best friend. And he’s got one hell of a support system with you, Jonathan and your mom behind him. He deserves the world. You’ve always thought that.

You quickly infer that it’s a walkie making the sound, based on the staticky crackle, the slightly muffled voice of whoever’s trying to get through from the other side.

Yours is off—you know it is—so it has to be Will’s. Jonathan was too good for a walkie-talkie.

You step down the hallway, pushing your younger brother’s bedroom door the rest of the way open. You scan the small area for it, listening.

“Code red! This is a code red! I repeat, this is a good red! Shit, is anyone there?”

You snatch up the device, extending the antenna.

“Dustin? Is that you?”

“Jesus christ! Where have you been?” Dustin exclaims, and you swear you can hear someone else interfering with his words.

“Sorry! I wasn’t home. What’s wrong?” You sit on the edge of Will’s bed. It’s so much comfier than yours.

“It’s Dart! He’s, he’s just…you know what? It’s a long story. Where are you right now?”

This time you definitely hear another voice, and maybe even music.

“Dart? You kept him, right? I fucking knew it, Henderson! You’re so not a good liar.”

“That’s for sure.” You can’t place the voice, not over the walkie and over Dustin’s rambling, but you do catch that and it’s enough to leave you curious.

The boy starts to argue back, but you cut him off. “Dustin, who are you with?”

“Uh,” he coughs, “Well you see, um…Steve Harrington. I’m with Steve Harrington.”

Dustin gets a severe eye roll from said partner-in-crime, but he brushes it off.

“What?” You’re so confused. How did that even happen?

“I know! But everyone’s been MIA!”

“Oh my god,” you say, and Dustin can practically see you face-palming.

“Look,” he shoves a handful of rogue curls back under the brim of his hat. “Can you just meet up with us? The old junkyard?”

You push off of Will’s bed, and start walking through the house again, retrieving your things. So much for a nap or eating anything other than hospital Jell-O. What are you gonna say? Fuck no?

“Yeah, yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank god,” Dustin breathes. “See you then. Over.”

You make sure to check the batteries in Will’s walkie before you go, and then you’re back in your car again, backing out just as aggressively as your mother (something you said you’d never do).

————

“Yeah, Farrah Fawcett. You tell anyone I just told you that, and your ass is grass you’re dead, Henderson. Do you understand?”

“Yep.”

“Okay.”

Dustin goes quiet for a minute, watching each step he takes. The train tracks are old, and there are one too many loose nails for his liking. “So what’s Y/N got against you, man?”

Steve adjusts one of the gloves he’s wearing, trying not to think about the fact that he’s gonna smell like raw meat for who knows how long. “Uh, I don’t know, exactly. Never really talked to them before. But I’d assume it’s the–”

“The assholery?” Dustin interrupts.

“Dude.”

“What? It’s true.”

“No, yeah, you’re right.”

Dustin catches the slip in Steve’s attitude almost immediately. “Hey, they’re good, okay? I don’t think you’re a total dick, if that means anything. You’re trying and that’s what matters, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, we will. Thanks, Henderson.”

Dustin gives Steve a winning smile. This kid could rule the world, he thinks.

“Anytime,” Harrington. He lifts his hand up, awaiting a fist bump that Steve returns without a second thought.

————

You wander down the trail of raw meat you’ve found, not bothering to even question what's happening or where the meat came from. Frankly, you don’t really want to know.

At the end of your path, you catch a glimpse of familiar curls, even if they are crushed under the red brim of a hat.

“Dustin?”

The boy practically gives himself whiplash turning around to face you.

“Holy shit, I’m so glad you’re here. It’ll be nice to have someone older than me who’s not a total pain in the ass.”

“Hey, I heard that.”

The voice pulls your attention away from Dustin. When you look up, Steve Harrington is walking out of the biggest vehicle in this abandoned lot: a school bus. He’s wiping his hands on his jeans and pushing the ends of his sleeves up.

Dustin looks at you. “You guys have to be acquaintances at the least, right?”

You nod at him, feeling your face burn. If there’s a word for a less-than-acquaintance, you don’t know it. But that’s probably where your relationship with this boy lies. King Steve isn’t really someone you just miss.

But yeah, you know him. You know he’s a dick.

“Hi.” Steve pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and crosses his arms.

“Hi.”

You only look at him for a moment before your eyes are back on Dustin. The younger boy notices the tension radiating from you, and honestly, he gets it. Steve Harrington wasn’t exactly the person he’d planned on spending his day with, but here he was. Desperate times call for desperate measures or whatever.

“So what are we doing?” You ask.

Dustin puts his thumbs underneath the straps of his backpack, bouncing on the balls of his feet a little. “It’s a long story. Best if we talk while we work.”

You roll your eyes at him, but follow the thirteen-year-old wherever he wants to go. You’re not sure you could deny Dustin Henderson anything.

————

You watch as Max, a young girl you’ve just met, stomps up the steps of the ladder you’ve rigged inside the mess of a bus that you’re camped out in.

Your chest aches because what Dustin just said to her was rude, it was rude, and you can’t believe the two of them. You sit, arms crossed and leg shaking up and down, glaring at Steve.

You find it hard to believe that after everything you’ve learned tonight, about Dart, about Mews—which you’re never going to get over because you only visit Dustin’s house for his cat, never him—that this is what they’re doing now.

“That’s good,” Steve says. “Just show her you don’t care.”

Dustin is pacing, hands deep in his pockets. “I don’t,” he breathes.

Steve winks. Watching the two of them is like watching a tennis match. You don’t even like tennis.

“Why are you winking, Steve?”

You drag your hand down your face, sick of hearing this stupid ass conversation. When Dustin sits, the constant clink of metal where Steve keeps flicking his lighter open over and over starts to give you a headache.

“Fuck, Steve, would you quit it already?”

He scoffs, snapping the lid to his Zippo closed harder than he had been before. “What’s your problem?”

“You’re pissing me off, that’s my problem.”

Steve’s brow furrows. He doesn’t really understand the sudden need for aggression.

“Is this really the time for you to be yelling at me?”

“Is this really the time for you to be a dick?”

Dustin jerks the antenna on his walkie down, clearly sick of the two of you. “Would you children stop bickering? This is a life or death situation we have going on here.”

“I’d prefer death,” you proclaim.

Dustin glares at you. “I can arrange that if you’d really rather die, than act civil for one evening.”

“I think all of the civility,” you gesture vaguely with your hands, “went out the window when you asked me to come help fight demo-dogs.”

Steve snorts at your words, and you glare at him, an “oh, is that funny?” look on your face.

Dustin rearranges the hat on his head, stuffing his curls underneath it once again. “Alright. I’m gonna go check on our status, you two…work shit out, okay?”

“Dude,” Steve starts, “I’m older than you. I don’t have to listen to your instructions.” He gestures vaguely with his hands.

Dustin flips him off, and that’s the only response Steve receives, leaving the two of you alone in the bus.

You remain quiet, hoping that if you do you might just disappear or dissolve into the cracked leather of the seat you're sitting on. Then there really wouldn’t be any form of confrontation.

Steve starts flipping the lid to his Zippo open and shut repeatedly again, but this time it doesn’t annoy you. In fact, it gives you something to focus on, and you know that if you had one you’d be doing the same exact thing.

You wonder if he’s nervous. Or just bored.

Your knee begins to bounce when you realize that he’s looking at you, that he’s stopped messing with the lighter. But you refuse to look back, staring instead at the way the moonlight glints off of the metal in between his fingers.

“So what’s your problem with me?”

The way Steve says those words is so unlike the way he’s spoken the rest of the day, the way he’s behaved with Dustin, that you feel a pang in your chest.

He sounds like he used to.

“Did you even hear that? How conceded you just sounded? Like it’s funny that I might have a problem with you, king Steve?”

Obviously the use of his nickname hits a nerve. He shoves the lighter back into his pocket and sits up, tucking his hands under his knees.

“Would you just cut the shit and tell me what your problem is then?”

You sit up, matching his stance. There’s a part of you that wants to piss him off. You ache for it.

“You’re a dick, that’s my problem.”

Steve scoffs.

“That’s it? Like I don’t already know that?”

You roll your eyes, oblivious to the fact that all three of the younger kids you’re with have their heads hung over the escape latch in the top of the bus, listening eagerly.

“You think I’m just gonna put up with you, Harrington? I’m sorry, did you forget the slut shaming you and your shitty friends did publicly last fall? Because I sure as hell didn’t. I didn’t forget that you walk around like you fucking own the entirety of Hawkins because you’re swimming in daddy’s money. I didn’t forget that your girlfriend took my best friend away from me.”

You stop, and Steve just looks at you. You realize how heavy you’re breathing and subconsciously watch the steady movement of his chest, trying to match the pace and calm down. You hadn’t meant to get worked up like that. But sometimes…sometimes shit just happens.

Steve sighs. Honestly he feels a little sick. And he could argue with you some more, say that you don’t know what you’re talking about, that that’s the past, that he’s getting better. But that feels shallow. It feels meaningless. Because he knows it’s true. That in worrying about only himself or getting the girl or impressing whoever, he hurt loads more people than he realized.

It’s such bullshit, he thinks. This life he’s been living.

“You know, I’ve gotten plenty of earfuls about my actions from Dustin, I promise you that much. He can be very mean.”

You snort, considering there’s absolutely no denying that. “He’s a smart kid.”

Steve nods. He’s trying to think of a way to respond. He’s not good with words.

“Look, I-I know I’m a dick, okay?” he starts. You decide to be brave and look at him. He seems to like that. The eye contact. It’s like it lets him know you’re paying attention. He doesn’t get a lot of that, not away from school.

“The thing with Nancy,” he gestures with his hands, looking away from you and at the wall of the bus, like it hurts him to talk about or something. “I don’t know. My solution to not getting what I wanted was apparently to take it out on her. Tommy H. proposed the idea, and I didn’t stop it.”

“You know I cleaned it off, right?” he continues.

You uncross your arms and sit up, criss crossing your legs instead. “No. I didn’t know that.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I broadcasted the information across Hawkins. Tommy and Carol don’t even know.”

Oh. The fact that they didn’t know tells you that he did it without needed recognition. He did it because he wanted to.

“I just—she saw it. And then there was the whole thing…”

You start to grin before you catch yourself, but he sees it.

“It’s okay, you can laugh. I got the shit beat out of me.”

“You deserved it.”

He can’t argue with that. He won’t argue with it. “You’re right. I did. I said and did a lot that day that I regret.”

You nod, and then you’re both just looking at one another. It’s quiet out here, the same quiet you get at home, where you can hear the crickets, where you know there will be lightning bugs in the warmer months, free to roam uninterrupted by human activity.

Steve pushes his hair from his forehead, and though he sees you track the movement of his hand, he doesn’t point it out.

“What did you mean about your friend?”

If you’re being honest with yourself, you hadn’t intended for that to come out, but being in such close proximity to Steve in this moment had just made everything spill out.

You try to wave him off. “That was a whole thing. I didn’t mean to spill my guts like that.”

“No, it’s okay, I want to know. If you want to tell me, that is.”

You nod, chewing at your thumb nail now. Steve has the urge to reach forward and pull it free so you won’t hurt yourself, but he doesn’t. Instead he stays still and quiet, watching you contemplate a while.

Eventually he decides to keep going.

“I’m trying, you know,” he tells you. You look up and it gives him that little push to continue speaking. “To be better. I know you think I’m a total dick, and you’re not wrong, I know that, but I really am trying to be better. To be a good influence on those little shits.” He quirks his head upwards where he knows all three of his charges are eavesdropping, without a doubt.

You take a second and look at him. Really look at him. He seems to carry himself differently, though it’s not something you’d notice if you weren’t looking. He’s not dressed like his mommy picked out his outfit. He looks messy. The mess draws you in.

“I believe you. And I-I know I shouldn’t stereotype you, but it’s just—”

“I am a walking stereotype,” Steve grins. So do you.

“Yeah. I guess so. But I believe that you’re working on it. I suppose some people don’t remain assholes forever.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, though a little distracted. You still haven’t told you what you meant, but that’s not what’s really bugging him.

There’s this pull inside him. This longing for a friend. A real friend. Not someone he knows just because their dads were up each other's asses, or someone he just sits with at lunch because they’re of the same status quo.

And he just feels so alone right now. What with Nancy, this girl he thought he was in love with and everything, but clearly she doesn’t feel the same. What’s he even supposed to do with that? Did he ever actually know anything about her?

It doesn’t matter.

What matters is that he’s sitting here with you, hanging out with thirteen-year-olds and hiding from creatures Steve’s brain can’t even begin to decipher.

“Barb,” you say. Steve panicked a little internally at the mention of her name, considering. But he keeps his eyes on you, focused on each word that leaves your mouth. “She was my best friend, in middle school that is.”

He nods. Oh. Oh.

“We were still close when we got to high school, had a little group and everything, right? And even though high school kinda fucks everything up, I didn’t want to believe that would happen to our little partnership, you know?”

He nods again, trying his best to pay attention. He’s trying harder than he ever has in school. He probably shouldn’t ever say that out loud.

“Anyways, she was my best friend. She was all I knew, and then we got to lovely Hawkins High, and she met Nancy. Nancy and I never really clicked, even when we tried. I guess it’s because I’ve always thought she was a pretentious bitch—sorry, Steve—but I don’t know. We just fell apart after that.”

“So Barb had Nancy and I had…no one. And the way my brain saw it was Nancy took my best friend from me, and then Nancy started seeing you, and so I saw those two from across the cafeteria, lounging with the popular kids. With you. And then she died.”

Steve is looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. Like he’s in awe of you. And it’s not anything negative. It’s warm. Understanding. Like something you’ve said has straightened something out in his brain, sorted something he couldn’t figure out on his own.

“S-so it was like we took her from you, in a way?” he asks.

“Yeah. And you didn’t. God, you didn’t. But it just felt like this…” you trail off, searching for the right words.

“Domino effect?”

“Yeah! Yeah. Exactly. And it’s not your fault, not at all. But I guess I already saw you as some dickish rich kid and that gave me another reason to stay the fuck away from you. And now that I’m saying it out loud I realize how awful it sounds because people change, you know?”

“No, I get it. I’ve been an asshole, and I’m sure I still am—Dustin can attest to that—but there are rich assholes that don’t change or probably won’t ever change. I know a few of them.”

You go quiet again. Steve doesn’t want you to stop talking. He’s starting to think he likes the sound of your voice.

“It’s good that you’re changing, Steve. I’m sorry I said you were such a dick.”

A breathy laugh leaves his throat. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m sorry for…everything.”

“Maybe we can make a truce or something. Start over. It’s not like we really know each other that well anyhow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s cool. Whatever you want.” He means that. He thinks he’d do whatever you wanted him to.

“Okay. Maybe we can just try and figure it out.”

“I’d like that,” Steve says. He stops himself from proclaiming that he wants to try and fix this with you. Because you’re listening to him. You’re not mad. He doesn’t want you to disappear on him after this.

You give him a small smile and he swears he might cry. Not that that feeling lasts.

“Hey!” Dustin is leaning down into the bus, hands clasped together. “I’m so glad we’ve got this handled, but we’ve got a code red, so let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

————

June 1985

The door to the back room swings open, a frazzled boy rushing in. You drop your candy wrapper on the table, and Robin keeps talking about the girl that you missed coming in this morning. She was “such a babe.”

“Hello?” Steve stands in front of the both of you, hands on his hips. You have to fight back a laugh.

Your eyes find Steve’s immediately, and you swear they soften, but maybe you’re imagining it. You nudge Robin’s leg where your foot is propped up on one of the supports under her chair.

She stops flailing and looks up, seeing Steve’s hand raised where he’d been about to snap to get her attention. She quirks a brow. “Don’t you snap at me, Harrington! This is important shit.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Could you two come and help me? I’m dying out here!”

It’s one of the hottest days of the year, and Scoops has had a line since it opened at ten.

You look at your watch. “My shift doesn’t start for…fifteen minutes.” He rolls his eyes at you, though the gesture is void of any malice it could possibly hold.

“Yeah, well this is supposed to be my break, so get out there, Buckley!”

She stands, though she’s pouting. “Come on.”

“You took the job,” he says, shoving her through the door. Robin gives him a look that you can’t see, but you can practically feel it from across the small room.

Steve lets out an exaggerated sigh, ripping off the hat he’s been wearing and throwing it on the table in front of you.

You watch him rummage through a bag before he emerges from its depths with a banana and throws himself down in the chair across from you, lifting your leg up from where you’d moved it to occupy the seat Robin had abandoned. His hand is warm on the bare skin of your calf, and he shifts the chair some, laying your leg across both of his.

“Steve.”

“Huh?” He peels the banana, aggressively fast actually, and rips off a chunk, popping it into his mouth.

“Why do you have a banana?”

He meets your eyes. “Snack, duh.” He chews, and then gestures at the closed window. “Been working up a sweat out there I think I deserve a break.”

You grin at him, and he feels like he might hit the floor.

“Want some?” Steve pulls off a chunk and holds it out to you.

“Did you wash your hands?”

He gasps, mid-chew, and forces himself to swallow. “D-did I—yes, I washed my hands, mom, I’m not four.”

“Eh,” Robin’s voice breaks your little bubble. She’s pulled the window open–that way she can eavesdrop– propping herself up on her elbows.

That makes you laugh, and when you smile your cheek is full of banana and Steve swears something is breaking inside of him.

“Gang up on me then why don’t you,” he says, handing you the last piece he’s got left. He tosses the peel in the trash, “what do you want anyhow, Robin?”

“Your break is up, and her shift has started. Let’s get to slinging ice cream, shitheads!”

You wipe your hands on your shorts and hop up. Steve doesn’t move, just looks at you.

“C’mon, Steven. It’ll be lunch sooner than later.”

He grins. His eyes look tired and you wonder if he slept any last night. He told you once recently that he doesn’t always sleep well, that sometimes he has to listen to tapes in order to keep his head from being so busy, to keep the thoughts from being so loud.

Steve has told you a lot since last fall. There’s a significant bit more that you know that’s more than what he’s given Robin, but you know he’ll let her in. He just needs the time.

Though sometimes you think he might be giving you everything. The parts of himself he’s never shown anyone else. Because you’ve been such a good listener, and Steve’s never really had that before.

He wishes he had the balls to tell you more. But he can’t fuck it up this time. Not with you. You’re too good.

Steve is your best friend now. You know that. He knows it.

If yourself from a year ago could see you now, she’d probably knock your fucking teeth in. But he’s just so much more than you thought. You’re not sure you’ll ever forgive yourself for not thinking there could be more in him, though he’s told you not to be upset. You’ve told him the same when he berates himself for not having paid you more attention in school.

It’s the past. You can’t live there. And today, you’re scooping ice cream for pre-sticky kids, for shitty pay, but it doesn’t matter because you have him. You have Robin.

You stick out your hand, and Steve takes it without a second thought. His palm engulfs yours, skin warm and a little calloused.

“We can watch whatever you want tonight.”

He squeezes your hand. You and Robin are supposed to have a sleepover with him tonight. He suggested he sleep in a guest room and you two have his bed, but Robin said she needs to be cuddled. You said you’re not letting him sleep anywhere but his bed.

“I thought you wanted to watch Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

“I always wanna watch that. But you can pick first, Stevie.”

Stevie. His stomach flips at that. You don’t let it out often, but when you do it’s like Steve might just die right there.

He straightens, deal clearly made, and you pull him up–not that you need to.

You push through the door with him, and immediately regret it. It’s like the soccer moms can smell your fear, and you know it.

“Breathe,” Steve says. “Dustin’s here.”

He is. The entire party. That you can deal with.

You think you could deal with an absurd line and angry mothers for the rest of your life if it meant assembling Dustin and Lucas’ weird orders. Even if you have to endure Will’s questioning looks and his pleas that you bring some ice cream home. If you have to listen to Robin’s word vomit.

If it meant spending time with Steve, you’d do it.

God, how shit changes.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x gender neutral reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #dustin henderson #steve harrington x byers!reader #byers!reader #robin buckley #savannah’s fics

475 notes · View notes

justinspoliticalcorner · 4 months

Text

Jill Filipovic at Slate:

Should the very state of being pregnant place women in a subclass of citizen, vulnerable to criminal prosecution or civil penalties for behavior that would be perfectly legal from a nonpregnant person? Judging by their proposed legislation and various legal antics, the anti-abortion movement says: Yes. Pregnant women simply should not have the same rights as any other U.S. citizen. Take, for example, efforts to criminalize the crossing of state lines for abortion. There is a very, very long tradition in the U.S. of allowing people to travel out of state to access medical care, and it’s so deeply ingrained we barely think about it. Consider, for example, the businesswoman who lives in New Jersey but works in New York City and so goes to the dentist in midtown Manhattan, or the dad who lives on the Kansas side of Kansas City but takes his sick kid to a specialist at a hospital on the Missouri side. A great many Americans don’t think twice about crossing state lines for health care. Abortion opponents are trying to change that for one group of people: pregnant women.

Conservative legal groups are already drafting model legislation to prevent pregnant women from traveling for abortions by legally penalizing anyone who helps them, a strategy used by the state of Texas in one of its abortion bans, which allows anyone in the U.S. to sue those who assist women with abortions—and be rewarded with a bounty paid by the state. The architect of that Texas abortion bounty law was Jonathan Mitchell, an anti-abortion activist (and Donald Trump lawyer) who is currently representing a Texas man in his quest to probe into his ex-girlfriend’s abortion, which she allegedly sought outside of their home state. Mitchell filed a petition to learn the details of this woman’s abortion for, he says, a potential future lawsuit. But to be clear, the woman in question did absolutely nothing illegal: Traveling out of state for health care, including abortion, is not against the law in Texas or anywhere else. It’s just that Mitchell and other abortion opponents would like to change that—and are apparently happy to represent controlling (and, in another case Mitchell took on, allegedly abusive) men to do it.

They’re also happy to reclassify pregnant women as a kind of sub-citizen who, by simple virtue of their pregnancy status, are not entitled to the same legal freedoms and protections as anyone else. A Texas woman who goes to a Colorado abortion clinic is being treated differently from any nonpregnant person who travels for a medical procedure—and you can bet that this categorization of pregnant people as suspect, should they travel out of state, will lead to all sorts of investigations and abuses.

Take this hypothetical: Say the anti-abortion movement succeeds and makes it a crime to travel out of state for an abortion. Say a woman in Idaho (where abortion laws are so extreme, they have no exceptions for saving a woman’s health) travels to Washington state, where abortion is legal, and gets her hands on abortion-inducing drugs. Say she’s not pregnant. Say she takes the drugs anyway. Has she committed a crime? Or, to use a more likely legal model, say Texas makes it a crime to help a woman travel for an abortion, and a Texas woman goes to Colorado, gets abortion-inducing drugs, and takes them, despite not being pregnant. Is the friend who helped buy her plane ticket still liable? Presumably not: No pregnancy means no abortion, which means no violation of an abortion ban. But if the two women in these scenarios had been pregnant, the legal calculus would be entirely different.

Or to use a perhaps more realistic scenario: Mifepristone, an abortion-inducing drug, is also commonly used to treat Cushing’s syndrome, and researchers say it has tremendous potential to treat other illnesses, too, from various cancers to PTSD. Under an anti-abortion legal scheme, if a Texas woman with Cushing’s syndrome travels out of state, gets mifepristone, and takes it, she (or those who help her) would face potential legal consequences only if she’s pregnant. It’s her status as a pregnant woman—not the act of traveling or even taking an abortion-inducing drug—that is the problem. And generally, the law frowns on making a person’s status—rather than their actions—the basis of a crime or a lawsuit. That’s part of treating all people equally under the law, and offering all people the equal protection of it.

Preventing pregnant women from crossing into a state for a legal medical procedure isn’t the only way in which the anti-abortion movement is attempting to curtail basic rights and protections for anyone carrying a pregnancy. Earlier this year, abortion opponents argued before the Supreme Court that pregnant patients should be treated differently than nonpregnant ones in cases of serious medical emergencies—that doctors and other health workers should be permitted to give pregnant women a substandard level of care, and to essentially refuse to appropriately stabilize them. If a woman comes in and is very ill, she’s entitled to one standard of care; if she comes in and is very ill and pregnant, that standard of care is lower in states that criminalize abortion.

At issue in the Supreme Court case, a ruling in which is expected early this summer, is the Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act (EMTALA), a law initially written to prevent hospitals from dumping seriously ill patients who couldn’t pay. Pregnant women in particular were often coming into hospitals in labor, only to be refused care; there were stories of women birthing in hallways and cars. EMTALA says that any hospital receiving federal Medicaid dollars (which is most hospitals, both public and private) must provide lifesaving care to anyone who walks through their doors, regardless of their ability to pay. That means that hospitals have an obligation to stabilize ill patients. (If they don’t have the ability to appropriately stabilize a patient, they must move the patient to a facility that does.)

Jill Filipovic wrote in Slate the insidious trend of anti-abortion hardliners making pregnant people 2nd class citizens by enacting laws criminalizing access to out-of-state abortion services (this is also applicable to gender-affirming care).

#Jill Filipovic #Slate #Abortion #Pregnancy #War On Women #Anti Abortion Extremism #Texas SB8 #Jonathan Mitchell #Criminalization of Abortion #SCOTUS #EMTALA #Moyle v. United States #Idaho v. United States #Mifepristone

95 notes · View notes

blorb-el · 6 months

Note

Psssst does the au superbat fic exist bc I waaaaaaaaant it

I want it too 😭 tragically it only exists in about........4.5k scattered scenes which I try to poke at in between working on my main project rn!

misc worldbuilding scraps that are currently rotating on the back burner:

(omegaverse) human instinct relies on scent > hearing > taste > sight to find compatible partners, kryptonian instincts lean on sight > hearing > scent > taste, hence the mating markings

omegaverse humans have a much higher degree of face blindness than we normal humans do lmao

helps clark pass, the more he pulls his scent back the more it fades away, clark kent smells so dull/insignificant/mild that it seems like he's got a medical condition (hypomyrodia). jonathan kent had this. when jonathan and martha found bby kal, he was scared and tried to match scents to the two humans who found him, which caused his kryptonian scent to quickly fade. a hypomyrodic pup would probably face high abandonment rates and low adoption rates, so it was probably a relief that two willing parents brought the pup in

kryptonians all pretty much exist along a relatively smooth spectrum of sexual characteristics and can transition somewhat like clownfish if there's a hormonal imbalance in their community. having zero (0) other kryptonians around does things to clark before he grows the fortress and is able to synthesize hormone stabilizers

humans meanwhile have ten major sexes because betas can be true beta, alpha-leaning, or omega-leaning depending on their recessive genes

poison ivy is x100 more horrifying in any omegaverse world. she only manages to zop clark though bc the pollen is enchanted. however it's enchanted to induce primal alpha hindbrain, which means something very different to lone kryptonians than packbonded humans

it would have been the norm on krypton to have one's facial markings out. kryptonians would pull them back if they were sick, or perhaps terrified... primal hindbrain clark looking around and seeing nothing but non-glowing faces, and it coming across as everyone around him fucking terrified of him

for the first few months of their acquaintance clark is like. im not sure what gender batman is and at this point i'm not sure its ok to ask (he can smell past the concealing patches to bruce's strong omega scent but the patches could also be doubling as, like, the equivalent of binders, could be that batman's gender is null, but he mixes in diluted alpha cologne, but that could just be for concealment/intimidation....???)

sun-powered kryptonians have a strong, distinctively alien but somewhat alpha-smelling scent (when they're not pulling it back) but barely leave any on people they try to scent with, and scents barely stick to them. when clark politely explains this to bb dickie hes just like well i guess ill just have to scent you for longer! and clark goes 🥺

at this early point in the timeline barry is the only known omega superhero so the tabloids are huge into superflash

anyway all that's just kind of fluff/details... the core theme i've been rotating around is overcoming real and genuine barriers to intimacy. the loneliness of knowing you're a square peg in a world of round holes, the necessary compromises of sanding away your corners, the joy of meeting someone who will stretch to meet you where you are. there's a fair few excellent fics of bruce uncomfortable in an omega's role and body, i want to come at it from a perspective where a xenomegaverse clark has to define what gender means to him, in the heightened roles of the omegaverse. we are looking also at layers of passing. when parts of your closet become your armor that protects but encumbers you, and other parts become your exoskeleton, which grow into who you are. we are looking at that comic about the orchid that has the pattern on it meant to appeal to an extinct species of bee. we are looking at compromise made of love and compromise made of fear. and we are looking at tentacles baby.................

#OR WE WOULD BE LOOKING AT IT IF I HAD THE BRAIN SPACE FREE TO WRITE IT DOWN!!!!!#once wsbf is done. and the various pwps. and the kryptonian superbat au..... god that one's been on the back burner over a year lmao.......#reddest-x #thanks for the ask :^)

64 notes · View notes

thehiddlebum · 1 year

Note

prompt 9 and 11 for either johnathan pine feeling burnt out during his shift while working at the Swiss Hotel or james conrad in the aftermath of skull island

also your miss independent fic piece was amazing <3

hello lovely, thank you! this is such a cute one, i chose pine because… well come on he’s my fave 😩 enjoy ! x

Sleepy

Summary: After a very long shift, you help your love get a well deserved nights rest.

Warnings: None, pure fluff, jonathan being a softie

Pairing: Jonathan Pine x female!reader or GN!reader

Prompts: ‘Your lover is snoring quietly and you can’t help but giggle because it’s so cute’ and ‘Laughing at their messy hair in the morning.’

The cold, snowy weather was the perfect setting for the Meisters Hotel in Zermatt, and it was your favourite weather.

You and your boyfriend of five years had recently moved here as Jonathan was needed for work, he was the night manager for the hotel and you worked as a chambermaid.

You didn’t mind it at all as it was good pay, and the fact that you got to see your beautiful man at work.

Every evening he wore the most stunning suits you’d ever seen, the shirts being tight-fitted around his arms and shoulders.

He just always looked so good.

You both usually slept during the day as Jonathan worked night shifts and you were needed early in the mornings, so he would wait for you to finish before driving you both back to your cabin.

However, today had been particularly busy as the hotel filled with guests arriving for their stay.

It was Jonathan’s job to get them checked in and assigned to their rooms, and assisting them with anything else they may need.

You’ve watched him do his job a couple of times and it’s fascinating how effortless it looks for him.

But today you had been at home resting all day (Jonathan’s orders), as he was asked to step in for someone who called in sick.

So that meant that he was covering both day and night shift, and you knew he would be exhausted by the end of it.

He had sent you a quick text saying ‘i should be finished around the same time as you, darling.’

You were due to start at 5 in the morning, and it was currently 4:15 so you headed to the front door and began the short walk to the hotel.

The sky was slowly getting lighter as the sun came up and when you reached the hotel, you walked through the revolving door and saw him.

He was typing on the computer behind the front desk whilst speaking to some guests, then leading them to the bar area as he put their bags behind the desk.

You could tell that he was trying to push through the exhaustion, but then as he looked up and met your gaze, you saw his lips part as he sighed.

You walked over to him and stepped behind his desk, resting your hands on his broad shoulders and rubbing them gently.

You heard him release a quiet ‘mmmh’ as he leaned his head back into your touch, “Not much longer now my love.”

You whispered in his ear and placed a delicate kiss on his temple, to which he smiled softly at.

“Thank you darling, I’ll meet you here in reception once you’re finished.” He said and leaned down to peck your lips gently.

You left him and went to change into your work clothes, and collected the cleaning supplies from the closet and got to work.

It took you about two hours to flip the hotel rooms over, ready for new guests that would be arriving today.

Changing back into your normal clothes that you arrived in, you left your work uniform in the closet and grabbed your handbag before making your way down to reception.

When you got there you saw Jonathan sat on one of the sofas in the middle of the room, scrolling through his phone.

As soon as he heard the elevator ping and the doors open he looked up to see you smiling at him.

You both left the Hotel hand in hand and got in your car, which Jonathan had drove to work the morning before.

Once you reached your cabin that you now call home, you both got in the shower together but you were both too tired to even try anything.

You poured some of the soap into your hands, rubbing them together and rubbed your hands all over Jonathan’s back and shoulders.

He melted into your touch and rested his head on your shoulder as you rubbed his back, and reaching up to grab the shower head and let the water fall down his back.

Then you squeezed some of his shampoo in your hands and ran it through his wet blonde locks, he closed his eyes as you worked your magic and you admired once again just how beautiful he was.

Once you rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, you quickly washed yourself as you knew he just needed to get into bed.

Stepping out of the shower together, you wrapped one towel around his waist and one around your middle.

You got a clean pair of boxers out for him and one of his T-shirts for yourself, and once you were both dry and changed you got into bed.

He collapsed onto the sheets with a big sigh and you scooted closer to his warm body, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his chest.

One of his hands rubbed your back slowly and the other rested behind your head, playing with your hair gently.

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and you felt his breathing calm down, you snuggled closer into him as you could feel him falling asleep already.

Before you knew it, you felt his arms go limp and you smiled as you heard soft little snores escape from his lips.

As he let out quiet snores, you reached up and brushed some of his curls out of his face and pressed soft kisses on his cheeks.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his snoring as it was so cute, and you were just so glad that he could get some well needed sleep.

You woke up hours later and it was gone 2 in the afternoon, and you naturally reached out for Jonathan and felt that his sleeping body was still there.

You pulled him gently into your arms and held his head against your chest, wrapping your arms around him and snuggling under the weight of him.

You heard him groan softly as he buried his head in your neck, pecking your skin lightly and your tan your fingers through his messy locks.

He finally gained enough strength to lift his head and he pouted his lips as if asking for a kiss.

You giggled and granted him his wish, softly kissing those perfect pink lips of his to which he hummed in delight at.

Once you pecked his lips one more time, you pulled away to look at him and when you did a laugh escaped your lips.

“What?” His raspy voice spoke as he furrowed his brows.

“Nothing… it’s just your hair.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and you couldn’t help but chuckle more at the sight.

He went to bed with wet hair so that made it even more messy, but it was just all over the place.

His normal slicked back blonde locks were now all curly and flicked in different directions, but he still looked like a literal god.

“Stop laughing,” He said with a smirk on his face and it only made you laugh more.

You cupped his cheeks with both of your hands and softly kissed him again, resting your forehead on his.

“I’m sorry baby, you just look so cute.” You stroked his hair and he smiled.

“I’ll show you ‘cute’…” He pushed himself up on his hands and began to attack your neck with kisses, slowly making his way down your middle which had you erupting with laughter as he tickled your sides.

A/N: oh how much i wish this was real 😭

#tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddleston smut #jonathan pine #tom hiddleston fluff #loki #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki laufeyson #loki smut #marvel cast x reader #tom hiddelston x reader #chris evans one shot #tom hiddleston

244 notes · View notes