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cypherverze · 1 year

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CHAPTER TWO

Hardest Part of Ending is Starting Again

an avengers x john wick crossover fanfic

You can access the previous chapter here: Chapter One | Series Masterlist Access

PAIRINGS: avengers x teen!reader (platonic) , tony stark x niece!reader , john wick x daughter!reader , peter parker x female!reader

SUMMARY: Deciding on taking a walk around the city to get some fresh air, your feet had brought you back to where your parents are and to a place that holds a lot of memories for you. Abram Tarasov had began making his moves and had an encounter with a few of his men.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i had decided to make this story a series! i’m really happy that i get to share this story with you. there are a lot of exciting things that will happen, and it makes me super excited. the reader and peter’s relationship will be in a slow pace, their relationship will develop slowly as the story progresses, so i hope that you’ll be patient with the development. also, notes and comments are highly appreciated.

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, i had made fictional connections so that my fic would make sense. i don’t own the characters in my story. please do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 4,115

WARNINGS: foul language, gory scenes and descriptions, blood, guns, knives, and violence.

DIVIDER BY: @delishlydelightfuldividers

After two days, you had already been given the clear that you can now leave the med bay. The pain from your wound and injury are still there, but nonetheless it’s getting better slowly. You head to your own room, which Tony had built for you when he found out that you’re his niece, despite of not living in the compound, he had always told you that you are welcome anytime. You also stashed some of your spare briefcase in your room, in case of emergencies.

You decided to take a shower, then change into a plain white shirt, some leggings, and running shoes. You put on a gray oversized hoody over your plain white shirt, never forgetting to place your phone in the front pocket of the hoody, and brushed your hair, putting on the black baseball cap. You wanted to go get some fresh air, maybe walk around the city and see wherever your feet takes you. Before you leave the compound, you dropped by the lab to check on Tony and Bruce.

“Knock, knock,” You knock on one of the table and saw your uncle doing his stuff, together with a boy. “Working with a new partner, I see.”

Huh, he’s kind of cute. You thought.

“Hey, (Y/N). Good to know that you’re already out of the med bay, and yeah. Bruce is currently out right now, so I’m with this underoo,” You smiled at your uncle. He dropped the screwdriver that he was holding and turned to the boy beside him, “Parker, meet my niece, (Y/N). (Y/N), meet Parker.” He smiled at the both of you and quickly going back to what he was doing.

You walked towards them in a slow pace, you reached out your right hand to introduce yourself properly to the boy.

“Hi, I’m (Y/N) Jovanovich, Tony’s niece. Glad to finally meet my uncle’s intern and protégé.” You smiled softly at the boy.

“H-Hello, the name’s Peter Parker.” He shook your hand, but retracted it right after and scratching his nape.

He’s shy. He’s shy and you find it a little bit cute.

“He’s the boy that I’m telling you about, if ever you decide on transferring to his school, you can hangout with him and his friend so that you won’t feel alone at a new environment.” Tony said, still focused on what he’s doing.

“You’ll be transferring to Midtown?” Peter asked.

You nodded and sat down by the desk, checking out the cups that holds a few amount of pencils and ballpens.

“Yeah, but it’s still a pending decision. I have important things that I can’t leave behind.” Peter nodded at your reply, but you weren’t able to see it because you’re too busy on checking out the pencils and ballpens infront of you.

You grabbed a pencil, you noticed that it has been newly sharpened, and twirling it between your fingers. You smiled softly, you remembered when your father had told you that he had killed some guys at a bar by just using a pencil. Young you wondered back then if you’ll be able to do it as well, maybe today’s your lucky day. You had always been on the lookout for new and innovative ways to eliminate your targets, why not try it with a pencil.

‘Anything can be a weapon, Воробушек’

The sudden memory of your father had appeared in your mind, smiling at the memory softly as your stare at the pencil in your hand. It seemed like an unlikely weapon, but you are willing to try anything, it had always been resourceful, and you knew that sometimes the simplest tools could be the most effective one. Like father, like daughter…what can you say?

“Hey, uncle Tones?” You called out.

“Yeah?”

“Can I borrow one of these pencils?”

“Sure, go and knock yourself out.”

With a flick of your wrist, you launched the pencil across the lab. It hit the wall with full force and a satisfying thud, even left a mark, and you nodded to yourself and grinned in satisfaction. Tony was taken back at what you did, he wasn’t expecting it, even Peter.

“The fuck did you just do?!” Tony looked at you, eyes wide.

You stood up from your seat and retrieved the pencil from the wall, you shrugged at your uncle and smiled at both men.

“Just trying out some new stuff. Who knew pencils can be deadly, if one knows how to use it,” You twirl the pencil again in your hand, “Did you know that my dad killed a few guys at the bar with just using a pencil?” Peter’s eyes widened.

“A-Are you an assassin? Like Ms. Romanoff?” You turned to Peter.

“She is,” Tony answered for you, and you turned to Peter, winking at him, “Don’t do that again, (Y/N). If you do it again, I’m banning you from the lab.” Tony sternly said, hands on his hips. You gave him a thumbs up.

The pencil was sharp enough to penetrate the skin, it might not be as lethal as a knife or a gun, but it was certainly better then nothing. Testing your aim again, you saw an empty can of soda, you threw the pencil again aiming on the empty can. It hit dead center of the can, you smiled to yourself proudly. You remind yourself to buy a box of pencil and always have one with you whenever you work, it’ll come in handy if ever you need to write something when you’re not using it as a weapon.

“(Y/N)! What did I tell you?” Tony glared at you, you just smiled cheekily at him.

“That’s so cool!” Peter cheered.

“Stop cheering! At this rate she can end up killing us with a donut, imagine dying from a donut,” Tony said, “Can’t believe that you’re a literal killing machine.”

You and Peter both laughed at his remarks, putting up your hand to give Peter a high five, and he gladly returned the gesture.

“Well, I’m gonna be heading out for a while. Gonna walk around the city to get some fresh air, I’ve become a bit crazy being stuck in med bay for two days, I need to touch some grass,” You retrieved the pencil, exchanged it for a sharper one, “I’ll borrow this for a while, I’ll make sure to return it right after. I’ll be home before dinner, bye! It’s nice meeting you, Peter!” You gave him a salute and went out of the lab.

“You too!” He shouted, “(Y/N)’s pretty cool, Mr. Stark.” Peter smiled.

“Yeah, but not as cool as me.”

Twirling the new pencil in your hand, you walked through the hallways of the compound. You know that you would need to practice more to really master this silly thing as a weapon. You are not your father, he can easily use random objects as a weapon and mastering it quickly. Things cannot be mastered in one day, but your father had managed to defy the saying.

You had been walking aimlessly around the city, not knowing where to go. You remembered that you need to buy a couple box of pencils, and yes, you are damn serious about this whole pencil thing being one of your many weapons. But you decided that you’ll drop by at the school supplies store on the way back to the compound, you’re kind of a bit lazy to bring the plastic with you around.

You continued on walking around, until your feet brought you right in the entrance of the cemetery. A cemetery that you’re very familiar with. It’s the cemetery where your parents are buried. A soft gush of wind passed by as you walked quietly through the rows of gravestones, your footsteps being muffled by the soft grass beneath your feet.

As you approached the plot, where you can see clearly the tombstone of your parents, you felt a lump rise in your throat. It has been a total of six months since you had visited them, and in that six months, a lot of things had happened—including meeting the avengers and finding out Tony Stark being your uncle. But no matter how many months or years had already passed by, the pain of their loss still weighed heavily on your heart. Taking a deep breath, you sat down on the grass, facing their tombstone, you began unconsciously softly tracing the letters that is engraved on it with your fingers, sighing.

“Mom, dad. It has been a long time hasn’t it, huh? Sorry if I’m not visiting you on a regular basis, it’s just work has began being difficult. I sure know that if you guys are still around, I’ll get an earful on how I’m out of my mind joining the criminal underworld.” You let out a sad chuckle.

“Especially you, dad. I know that you had gave up everything just to escape this kind of life, to give me a normal life, but only for me to fall back into it. This is not the life that you wanted for me, but let’s face it, my childhood was never normal while growing up. When I lost you both, I don’t know how to cope up, to deal with the grief. I became so closed off, keeping everything I’m feeling inside of me, I don’t know how to release it. Joining the criminal underworld…I saw it as an opportunity to be an outlet for me, to release all of the emotions that I bottled up. Eventually, it worked like magic. Been doing it all of my life, up to now, and I’m really good at it dad, I know that you’ll be proud of me.”

“You know, Abram Tarasov is onto me, dad. He found out that I’m your daughter, turns out that he still haven’t moved on from you killing his brother and nephew. He decided to come for me, he blew up our family home two days ago,” You scowled, picking off some grass out of anger, “I’m sorry, but I can’t let this one go. It will always be an eye for an eye.”

For a person that knows you’re an assassin, it’s a strange sight to see. An assassin visiting someone in the cemetery, but it was one that brings you a sense of peace. In a place where death lingers, you feel a strange sense of connection to the people that you had lost, it’s as if your parent’s spirit still lingered in the air around you, and as you spoke every word, you felt the guilt. You knew that the life you live is a dangerous one, one that could end in violence and bloodshed at any moment.

You know very well that your parents love you so much. They had instilled it into you ever since you’re young how much you’re loved by them, they would always remind you of how much they love you so much. Despite the person who you became today, they know that they will still love you no matter what. You turn your gaze into the distance, noticing that there are flowers that are placed on the graves, except your parent’s. You chuckled lightly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring any flowers for you, guys. It should have been a walk for some fresh air, but unknowingly, my feet brought me here. But don’t worry, in my next visit, there will be a flower.” You smiled.

You brushed off the dirt from your hands, you placed a kiss on your palms and placed on both of your parent’s tombstone. With a heavy heart, you rose to your feet and brushed off the grass from your clothes.

“That’s the only time that I have for today, I need to be home soon before dinner, but I’ll visit again soon. I love you guys, so so much.”

As you turn to leave the cemetery, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing. The longing of living a normal life, a peaceful one, where death was not a constant companion. But you knew that it was a dream that could never be realized. Making your way towards the exit, footsteps echoing in the silence of the cemetery. You know that the moment you leave this place, you’ll be coming for Abram Tarasov with full force. A personal mission to finish, and you would do it with all the skill and determination that you have. But in the silence of the cemetery, you could not help but feel the weight what you’re about to do, you do this for a living, why are you feeling this way? You are already used to it. Even if you can have a choice, the outcome of those choices will always be your demise.

You decided to go home. Not the compound, but to your family home. You know that your father’s briefcases are still in the house, buried on the ground, and you’ll be needing it. When you arrived, the place had been completely destroyed, but the place had been left untouched. You began searching first for the bracelet that your father had given your mother during their anniversary date, and the watch that your father always use during his work. Those are the things that keeps you grounded, things that gives you sense of comfort, knowing that they’ll always be by your side. As for Daisy’s collar, it was already being used by Koda.

You found the bracelet and the watch in a rubble, you let out a sigh of relief that both of the item were not destroyed, thankful that the watch was not shattered. You put them inside of your hoody pocket, but then out of nowhere, you get this sudden feeling of someone watching you, that someone was with you in the area. You gripped your pencil inside the pocket, slowly turning around.

You stand corrected, there was someone with you. You had always known that a day like this would come. After all, when you make a living out of killing people, it was only a matter of time before someone comes for you. You found yourself backed up into a corner, surrounded by a group if heavily armed men. You are quick to recognize that they are Abram Tarasov’s men, and they were determined to kill you once and for all.

You are not going down without a fight. With a steady hand, you are gripping the pencil inside the pocket of your hoody. It was a waiting game, you waited for the first attacker to make a move. The first man charged forward, wielding an SOG Seal Combat Fixed Blades. You quickly drew out the pencil from your pocket, looking at the scene, it’s laughable. A man wielding a knife against a girl that only has a pencil to defend herself. But with one swift move, you had sidestepped the man’s attack and stabbed the pencil right into the man’s throat.

As the other attackers are closing in on you, you moved with fluid grace, movements that are precise, quick, and lethal. You had dodged all of the bullets that had been fired from their guns, managed to disarmed them, and delivered fatal blows by just using the pencil that you had borrowed from Tony and Bruce’s lab. Talk about luck, you are just like your father when he had took down the men in the club from the past.

It was a brutal and bloody fight, but you are a master of your craft, you know how to stay alive. You moved quickly, using the environment to your advantage, just like what your father had taught you, and taking out the men one by one. When the last attacker had finally lay dead on your feet, removing the pencil from the side of his head, you let out a ragged breath. You had completely forgotten that you have a wound that is healing and you had just fought a group of heavily armed men. You had also sustained a few bruises, but at least won the fight.

“Suck it, Tarasov. You think sending your men against me while I’m injured can stop me? Think again.” You smirked.

You looked around you, it was a carnage. A bloody mess. Some of the blood had managed to stain your hoody, groaning in annoyance because the stain will be difficult to remove. You put the pencil back in your pocket and wiped off the blood from your hands. You pulled out your phone, dialing a number.

“Hello, I would like to have a dinner reservation. Thank you.” You ended the call.

You searched around the house and found your father’s sledgehammer. You had easily located the area in the house where he keeps all of his briefcases, you lifted up the sledgehammer and began hitting the ground repeatedly until the floor cracks. You put down the sledgehammer and began removing the rocks, pulling out the briefcases from the ground. You opened it to check and it’s still intact, stack of gold coins is still there. You heard a sound of a vehicle, you stood up and saw Charlie getting out.

“Good evening, Charlie.” You nodded at him.

“Good evening, Ms. Jovanovich.” He motioned his team to begin with the work.

Charlie’s team had managed to dispose the bodies, and sweep the area clean. With no traces of the carnage that had just recently happened, you grabbed a 12 gold coins, 1 gold coin for each bodies and softly gave it to Charlie as a payment for the services.

“Thank you, Charlie. I’ll be seeing you again soon.” He nodded.

His team packed it up and left the area. You went back to your father’s briefcase and closed it. You are bringing it with you back to the compound. You know that you have to keep moving, you need to remain one step ahead of Tarasov. You winced a little from your body pain, and prayed to God almighty that your wound had remained close. Tony is going to have a motherfucking field day again with you.

You grabbed the briefcases and slipped away from the area, disappearing into the shadows of the night. The drop by the school supplies store will be next time, you needed to go back to the compound since it’s already a bit late and you told Tony that you’ll be home before dinner. You made a quick stop at the public restroom, to check on your wound. You were relieved that it hasn’t been busted with all the fighting that you did today, you need to thank Doctor Cho for the immaculate stitches that she did.

“Ms. Jovanovich has arrived.” Friday announced your arrival.

The team are preparing for dinner, Wanda had been the one in charge in cooking. You came in, carrying briefcase on both hands. Koda was the first one who noticed you, barking in happiness and running towards you. Putting down both of the briefcase, you kneeled down and ruffled his head.

“Hey buddy! Sorry I didn’t take you with me today. I had some errands to tend to, but I hope that you had a fun time spending with the team.” You smiled.

“He had his fun, alright.” Sam chuckled, “You don’t mind me taking him out? I took him out today for a jog.”

“No, it’s fine with me. Thanks you so much for keeping an eye on him while I’m gone. He usually doesn’t like to be left behind.” You smiled at Sam.

“It’s no problem, kid. He’s a fun dog.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s for dinner?” You stood up, you set the briefcases aside.

“I’m cooking paprikash, I hope you’ll like it.” Wanda smiled at you.

“It smells delicious, Wanda. Thank you,” You smiled at her, “Where are the others?”

“Natasha and Clint are still doing their training, but they’ll be out soon. Vision, Tony, and Bruce are currently at the lab. What happened to your clothes? Did someone spill some stuff on you? Hope you didn’t kill the person,” Sam joked. You removed your baseball cap, there are new additional gashes littered on your face, “Yo! Did you really beat up the guy? I was just kidding!” You chuckled.

“No. Someone didn’t spill stuff on me,” You made your way to the couch, where you saw both Steve and Bucky are seated, “I went to visit my parents at the cemetery and dropped by our house to retrieve a few belongings after the fire. Then Tarasov sent a few men after me, knowing that I’ll come back there.” You emptied the pocket of your hoody.

A bloody pencil, which you forgot to clean. The bracelet and watch, and your phone. You proceed on removing your hoody because it’s starting to burn your skin, the blood starting to stain as well your white shirt underneath.

“What?” Steve said, concern radiating off of him, “You should have told one of us that you’re going there. We could have accompanied you, especially that you have an injury that’s currently healing.” He added.

“Nothing happened, don’t worry. I managed to kill them off. It’s kill or be killed,” You shrugged, “I’m glad that I made a little trip at Tony and Bruce’s lab, and borrowed a pencil before I left the compound. I wasn’t carrying a gun or knife with me, just the pencil. So, long story short, I killed them off with just this trusty pencil!” You picked up the pencil, it still has some blood on it and showed it to the guys.

“Remind me not to mess around with you. It seems like anything you get your hands on can be a tool to kill.” Sam said.

You laughed at him, and suddenly out of nowhere, Bucky put out his hands up to you, motioning you to give him a high five. Without hesitation, you gave him a high five.

“Good job, kid!” Bucky proudly said to you, you smiled at him.

“Well, I’ll go get changed, need to wash these blood off of me. It’s beginning to reek,” You put your hoody on your shoulder and grabbed your stuff from the table, “Is the Parker boy still around?” You stood up.

“No, he just left an hour ago. Why?” Steve replied.

“No reason. Just wondering, met him before I left the compound earlier.” You grab your briefcases from the floor, “He’s kind of cool, cute too.” You shrugged. You saw that the team are smirking at you.

“You crushing on the spiderboy, huh?” Sam began poking your sides in a playful teasing manner.

“What?! No!” You whack Sam’s hands away from you.

“Why are you getting defensive all of a sudden?” Wanda chimed in, laughing. Sam still poking your sides, playfully teasing you.

“Hey! Stop poking me! Sam! Don’t make me hit you with this briefcases that I’m holding!” You playfully threatened, causing him to back away. Raising both of his hands in defense.

“Just saying! You look cute together,” Sam chuckled, “Don’t worry though, he’ll be back again tomorrow.” You stepped a little forward in a stance, scaring Sam a little bit, and causing the team to laugh.

“Stop teasing the kid, Wilson. You don’t want to end up in one of those briefcases.” Bucky pointed at the briefcase that you’re holding and laughed.

“If I were you, I’ll follow Bucky’s advice.” You smirked.

You began making your way towards your room, with Koda following you and sniffing the briefcases that you’re holding. When you arrived at your room, you gently placed the briefcases on your bed and Koda jumping right on the bed, resting on one of the briefcase.

“You know who these belongs to, buddy?” You pet his head, “I know, buddy. I know, I miss him too. I’ll take you with me when I visit mom and dad, but it has to wait, okay? I still have work to finish. When work is over, I promise we’ll visit them.” You smiled at Koda.

You sat at one of the bean bag chairs, staring at Koda. Reeling back on the conversation that you had with the team a few minutes ago, you thought about it. Are you really starting to develop a crush on Peter? You shake your head.

Too soon.

You had just met the boy, it’s too soon to establish your feelings towards him. Yeah, he’s pretty cool, you can be good friend of his. Yeah, a friend. It’s better to just be friends with him instead of you developing some silly crush on him.

TRANSLATIONS:

Воробушек - Little Sparrow

TAGLIST:

@sirimiripetrichor @nimo-jay

#avengers imagine #avengers x teen!reader #peter parker x stark!reader #avengers x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x wick!reader #tom holland peter parker #tony stark x niece!reader #john wick x avengers #avengers x john wick crossover #avengers fic #peter parker x female!reader

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the-broken-truth · 2 months

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Welcome to the Word Weaver's Void

Greetings there, Shadow Pup. You have entered the Word Weaver's Void - The Domain of the Broken Truth. I'd like to invite you to gaze upon the selection of stories I have crafted during my time here and hope that you will find them interesting and entertaining. Remember that this void is a safe place and there shall be no disrespect or judgment here; however, I should remind you that there are certain things I cannot weave.

I WEAVE WORDS FOR:

Yandere (Romantic or Platonic)

Letters (Romantic or Platonic/Yandere or Not)

One-Shots

Scripts

Mini-Series (If something is requested enough)

FANDOMS

Marvel

Twisted Wonderland (Leona, Jamil, and Idia are my favorites but I will write for others)

Naruto (Orignial/Shippuden/The Last/Boruto)

Inuyasha

Greek Mythology

God of War

Resident Evil Village

Mortal Kombat 11

Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (Hircine is my Favorite)

Mass Effect [BEST GAME EVER!!]

Broken: Please, keep in mind: I do not write Polyamorous Relationships - it's not my forte. If you request a (Character x Reader x Character) Ask, I will only write if one character is a romantic interest while the other is platonic. I will not write two characters being romantic for one reader. Also, I am not a very good Angst Writer; I don't have it in me to write it. If there are bad elements, I will weave the words for a better ending. I hope that is alright.

NOTE: IF YOU WANT NSFW/SMUT/SPICY CONTENT, ASK FOR MASK; THEY ARE THE ONES WHO WRITE THAT KIND OF STUFF. PLACE 'MASK MISCHIEF' IN YOUR REQUEST, SO I CAN LET THEM KNOW.

Mask: Hello, All - Mask is my name and that's all you need to know. As Broken stated, I am the NSFW Writer, however, there are certain things I will not write:

I will NOT write content regarding Pedophilia

I will NOT write content regarding The 'R' Word (You Know Which One)

I will NOT write content regarding urination on another person. (Utter Disgusting)

I will NOT write content regarding Vore.

I will NOT write content regarding incest.

Mask: If you want to request something from me, please be respectful and if you know a subject is too far, do NOT request it. Please, Shadow Pups.

MY PERSONAL LINES

The Mighty Bear AU [God of War 4 - Ragnarök] [Co-Created by @nastyavolk-cp] - Follow the tales of Bjorn the Great Bear & Renva the Wise Raven as they navigate their lives as deities of Asgard and The Children of Thor and Sif while avoiding the past chasing them.

The Hardship Goddess AU [Greek Mythology] - The Goddess of Pestilence and Hardship separates her Divine Soul from her body and lives as a moral, however, without her, the mortals do not experience hardships and can manage without praying to the Gods of Olympus, causing them to lose their power slowly.

Dakota Blake [OC] [MINI-SERIES] [PLANOTIC YANDERES] - Daughter of Bruce Wayne who refuses to take up the Wayne Legacy; Bruce and Damian attempt to force it upon her.

The Young Lords AU [Residet Evil Village] [CO-CREATED BY @snowflakestree] - Follow the Children of the Lords: Eliza Dimitrescu, Diedre Beneviento, Sebastian Moreau, and Kaleb Heisenberg as they protect the legacy of their parents by slaughtering those who speak against them in secret.

#introducing myself

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gierosajie · 1 year

Note

Do you have any genshin relationship headcanons? Platonic ones specifically since I'm not really interested in romance and would like to see more platonic hcs

Here's a few that I probably haven't mentioned all too often

Barbara has a Kaeya sense that alerts her for any shenanigans he might pull that range from silly (telling the firefly souls in lanterns story to the kids) to outright reckless (endangering himself and his men on a mission). It's like they have the younger sibling telepathic link

This used to be a headcanon but Venti and Kazuha being poetry buddies somehow became canon dhchdkgf. I still think they'd also be partners in crime

I really need to draw stuff for this someday, but Moops' Mondstadt Chaos Trio (Venti, Diluc, and Razor) ping pong the braincell between each other, which was very prevalent when they were trying to bake cookies and almost burned down Diluc's kitchen. Venti had taken the tray from Diluc and Razor because they tried to use their Visions but then he went and swirled the fire in the oven afterwards

I know I've said this a lot but Xiao receiving more and more letters over the years as he lets himself open up to having more friends from both in Liyue and abroad. Itto in particular always sending him his festival invitations even if he knows Xiao couldn't come, just to let him know the Arataki Gang thinks of him and will always welcome him with open arms if he ever decides to visit amidst his busy schedule. Xiao doesn't always write back, but he sometimes does, and he always keeps the letters safe in their own boxes in his adeptal abode

Lisa and Venti don't usually talk all that often, but she does let him borrow whatever and he sometimes leaves little gifts on her table for her. They never bring up the thing about Visions and Celestia, but they just kinda know in a silent understanding kind of way.

Faruzan still sends learning materials and resources for Collei even if she refused her offer to study under her because she genuinely just got attached. Sometimes if Faruzan finds something that reminds her of Collei, she also gifts it to her like one of those aunts that always has a pasalubong every time they visit

After everything had settled down, Mondstadters would occasionally find Venti and Vennessa going on strolls together and the two often end up with a bunch of apples by the end of it somehow

While Venti and Zhongli's shenanigans become everyone else's problem, Venti and the Tsaritsa mostly keep it contained. They probably have a lot of inside jokes and are on similar wavelengths when both aren't in work mode, so it really came as a surprise to everyone when they just stopped talking to each other and continued to do so even after Venti woke up

Heizou would sometimes give life advice to Sayu but she doesn't always trust it because he's still short even as an adult BAVDKDGSKGF

Dvalin and Barbara singing a duet. That is all.

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #long post #ask #anonymous #I'm trying my best not to put Venti everywhere I'm not biased I swear-

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strawberry-cowmilk · 2 years

Note

....I think my requests regulates around Mammon and Platonic/Child!MC—

Brothers, Dateables, Angels + Solomon reacting to a Child!MC made by Barbatos' and Mammon's magic out of pure accident, none predicted it.

Im a fan of Barbatos/Mammon friendship so yeah! If you're not comfortable feel free to delete.

Hello! Welcome back to the blog. Somehow this reminds me of the powerpuff girls haha. Anyways, I hope you like this fic!

The obey me cast reacts to Mc's creation

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

important: Just an extra clarification: Mc is a child, therefore there is 0 romance between them and the (legal) cast. It's all purely platonic

let's assume mc is around 5 here

content warnings: accidental child creation

-----

Lucifer

oh he's not happy at first

since he knows he's going to be the one who ends up raising you, or at least do most of the work involved

until lucifer gets attached to you, he won't view you as a 'burden' anymore

Mammon

'oh no, lucifer's gonna kill me'

but fear aside, you do look pretty adorable

mammon's prepared to teach you all kinds of stuff, lucifer has to stop him when he starts explaining how to cheat at poker

Leviathan

he thinks it's funny how mammon and, of all people, barbatos could make such a mistake

he mostly stays away from you until you show interest in hana ruri

now he calls himself 'uncle levi'

Satan

look, he expected this from mammon but not barbatos

doesn't really interact with you much, since he has no idea how to talk with a child

you, on the other hand, like satan and you try to get him to read books to you

Asmodeus

'oh my, you're just the cutest thing!'

I don't know if anybody else watched modern family but asmo likes to dress you up for photoshoots like cam does to his daughter

the only difference is you actually enjoy it

Beelzebub

beel is great with children

he loves to play little games with you, and make food for you

if you don't like the crust of the bread, he'll eat it for you

Belphegor

he's lowkey scared , but beel drags him along with things

forget alarm clocks, you're always waking him up in the morning by jumping on his bed

belphie hated it at first, but now he doesn't mind

Diavolo

diavolo adores little baby you as well

he likes to take you to toy stores, and he secretly buys lego sets for himself too

everyday, he thanks barbatos for accidentally creating you

Barbatos

barbatos turns into dramatos

'my lord, I apologise for this, I shall take care of this right now-' diavolo had already picked you up and spun you around

he is actually a great parent figure, despite how busy he is

Simeon

simeon loves to babysit you when needed

he likes it when he's cooking something in the kitchen and you try your best to watch what he's doing

also, he thinks it's great for both you and luke to get closer to each other

Luke

he thinks it was a bad mistake on mammon and barbatos' part

but, he soon warms up to you and congratulations, you now have a big brother

luke teaches you how to make michael's favorite sweets

Solomon

this man spends a good day laughing at the two demons who created you

mammon almost ended up fighting him but barbatos held him back

solomon wants to make you food, but everybody stops him

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #omswd #gn!mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #belphegor obey me #beelzebub obey me #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me solomon

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ratzmatazz · 7 months

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Welcome to my Studio Ghibli food rant (slash why you keep fucking up trying to recreate it in other anime)

people talk abt how studio ghibli animates food perfectly, but every attempt to recreate that style falls flat imo. and I feel like the reason is because people get too caught up on the "perfect" part and forget the fact its still food????

Like. ok. Howl's eggs and bacon are iconic, but actually look at them for a second. The bacon bubbles with grease. The eggs are wobbly imperfect circles that overlap and slide to the side of the pan. It's the platonic ideal of food, but it also looks like real food you could actually put in your mouth. It's better for its imperfections because it reminds you of the flavor of the real, actual bacon you've eaten, then coupled with the amazing art and animation. Studio Ghibli paints the mundane as beautiful and it makes the magic hit even harder. It's not even particularly detailed bacon and eggs either in terms of the actual food, but the details around it give it that extra flair.

I think the colors are really important as well and honestly could be their own post- the bacon is just slightly warmer than actual bacon, the eggs are just a tiny bit whiter/more opaque. That's where the fantasy part comes in and brings out the charm. A lot of the food in Studio Ghibli is just a liiittle bit warmer in tone than it is in real life, which also helps it come across as cozy and good feeling.

Kiki's herring pie is another example of this too !! Look at the slightly burnt edges, the way the fish has changed shape with the baking and how the edges are a tiny bit uneven. It's just realistic enough to remind you of what herring pie tastes like, but then brings it up another level with the subtle ways the food is exemplified, like the rich color of the brown and tan of the crevices. It's really subtle but effective.

But then when we look at other foods people like to call "anime food porn" (hate that phrase but whatever), it looks,,, kind of off???

I think the reason stuff like the images above fail to capture the same effect is because they think all the love is in how you animate the food itself and not the details around it. Like yeah that's some super well rendered bacon, but it doesn't sit on the plate quite right. The tomatoes are so shiny and red they actually stop looking like tomatoes and just become weird. It looks posed and staged, and it reminds me more of an advertisement than something a real person would make. It's also really apparent when you look closer that most of this food is almost unidentifiable??? Genuinely I have no idea what the yellow and golden blobs are supposed to be besides maybe home fries and eggs???? maybe mashed potatoes?????? The same and more can be said about the second image, I feel like my point is pretty clear here.

Like I said, the actual food isn't always *that* detailed in Studio Ghibli (excluding Kiki's pie honestly bc goddamn), but it's the way it feels so real and at the same time like the platonic ideal of food. Trying to recreate Ghibli food by only caring about the food loses the forest for the trees.

#studio ghibli #anime #howls moving castle #kikis delivery service #apparently pneumonia makes me hyperfixate on anime food. who would've known #if anyone wants to identify the screenshots of the other two foods I would be really grateful #news from the anthill

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cheerfulmelancholies · 10 months

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Masterlist

Profile pic by @annama-art

About me: I love reading/writing and at any given moment I have too many projects circling through my head. I've loved to read for as long as I can remember and I've enjoyed writing things for that same amount of time. I also love video games and motorcycling, so if I'm not working on a wip I'm usually doing one of those two.

I'm not currently published, but I have a handful of original stuff I've been working on as well as fanfic. Some of my favorite tropes to read are found family, action/suspense, angst, horror/supernatural and slice-of-life. I tend to write very light sci-fi, action, supernatural, angst (though usually with a happy, if not bittersweet, ending) and occasionally somewhat comedic stuff. Sometimes, sometimes, I make shit get dark. I struggle with writing mystery and heavy romance, though I've been experimenting with the latter. A lot of my characters have somewhat sad backstories because apparently that's just what I do.

Tag game friendly!

I also love hearing about other people's wips so anyone is welcome to ramble in my inbox about their ocs and stories.

Side blogs: @purefandomonium: my blog for anything fandom-related. @artspace1001: for any art or photography.

Other places to find me: I currently lurk on FFN and AO3 under the username ThisPerson1.

Info about my wips below the cut.

All of my works are primarily tagged under their full titles, the fandom name if it's a fic, "creative writing," "writers on tumblr," "fanfic" and "my writing." Anything extra will be listed.

Original WIPS:

Medical Mechanical: A story about a couple of friends who set out to uncover the truth behind the mysterious mega-corporation that has infested their town and done strange things to their parents. Sci-fi, young adult, and I guess it also sort of falls under action, although nothing major really happens until much later. Additional tag(s): "mm" and "sci fi."

It's the first original thing I began posting about and also my favorite original project. I actually do have tons more than what I've posted thus far, but I got caught up in perfecting it and then sidetracked and kind of just stopped talking about it.

The Set Up: A sort of enemies-to-lovers* story involving two old acquaintances meeting years later and being reminded of how much they piss each other off. After they end up stuck together on a camping trip that was nothing more than a mischievous plan by their respective friends, they're forced to deal with each other until the trip ends. (Very light) Romance*, slice-of-life, humor/comedy, and angst—mostly due to their past trauma.

It's the second original project I'm working on, although this one has taken a backseat to my other works because I'm still going through the process of reformulating it. I thought I had it figured out, and was originally going to have it take place in college and be a forced-by-friends camping trip gone wrong, but I just wasn't feeling it. I don't know, but the way it was coming along just... didn't feel right. So I decided to essentially start over rather than force myself through something I wasn't enjoying and that wasn't getting anywhere. The main theme is that the two MCs initially can't stand each other and butt heads, however, they eventually learn more about themselves and each other and start making amends.

*I'm also at a point where I don't think I'm going to keep it as romance, but instead have their relationship be platonic. We'll see.

Connection: Pokepasta/Glitchy Red fic about a girl who manages to befriend the embittered glitch. In other words, hermit high-schooler gets ahold of the titular Red cart and gets a new friend, and local depressed kids' game may not think life is so miserable anymore. Sci-fi/supernatural (because my version of Red is somehow both just a bunch of code and some digitalized cryptid entity,) very mild angst in the form of bullying, and found family/friendship. Additional tag(s): "glitchy red" and "pokepasta".

Fanfic:

I got the brainrot and just wanted something to write with no worries. I write a chapter and as long as it holds up the story it gets published. That's it. I'm taking a break from serious writing/editing with this one. I've already let it get too out of hand as is. It was supposed to be a two-parter. Now look at it.

Mysterious New Member: Fic about the BF5 gaining a new member under mysterious circumstances. Due to the secrets she seems to be hiding, and the rising tensions of the war, Vert and the others find themselves on edge and at odds over what to do. Takes place during Fused. Sci-fi, action/adventure, humor. Additional tag(s): "bf5," and "hot wheels battle force 5."

Fun fact: This is a fic I started when I was like 13. I recently began rewriting it because now I am not 13 and I was rereading it one day and went, "The fuck did I write it like this for???" So began my tedious work of redoing the whole thing. The original is actually still up on FFN under the exact same name, for the new one I only added rewrite to the title 😅 I'm not mad at myself for the way it came out or anything, as I was literally a kid, but I can safely say my writing has improved immensely and I just couldn't fight the urge revamp it. I'm quite proud of how this new one is coming along, being both an improvement of my original version and also a slightly daker and more interesting take on BF5. I'm actually close to done, I'd say about 75-ish percent. I really just have two more major plot points to go through and the rest is just tying up loose ends as I go along. That said, if you'd like to check out the abandoned original, feel free. Just be prepared for a bit of whiplash when comparing the two.

It's The Thought That Counts: Dead Plate AU fic I started on a whim and, like a lot of things, it got out of hand and became a fun little side project. Rody isn't hopelessly pining after Manon, who's still alive but not relevant to the story, and Vincent isn't a psycho cannibal killer. Essentially gay panic meets bi-denial, Rody attempts to impress Vincent by learning how to bake lemon-themed desserts after he discovers it's the only thing that gives him any semblance of taste. After a shaky start, Vince decides to start giving Rody lessons and they eventually come to terms with their feelings. Romance, humor, angst, slice-of-life.

I've actually never written proper romance before this and am absolutely shocked that it's coming along as well as it is. It's the most fluff I've ever written. For whatever reason, these two dorks are super easy for me to write. I also recommend checking out the game, it's super fun.

There is so much more, but I'm going to stop for now.

If it wasn't already obvious, writing is my biggest passion and I hope to keep improving and expanding what I do. I'm also always open to advice and constructive criticism, and I hope to inspire and help others with their writing. Also, if you write anything with the tropes or genres that I listed, don't hesitate to tag me and I'll check them out! I really enjoy reading other people's works.

So yeah, that's me. If you made it this far, thank you for checking out my blog (and my long ass intro post) and I hope you'll stick around and see what I have to offer. Be on the lookout for more and more to come!

#writeblr #my writing #my proper intro post #writers on tumblr #creative writing #writeblr intro

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themaladaptivewriter12 · 1 year

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Title: Slumber Party!

Part 2 of my “Every Other Friday!” series. Part 1 here.

Parings: Platonic

Summary:

Another Friday passes and it's time for yet another Housewarden meet, so how about a slumber party in the Ramshackle Dorm?

Cw: Light angst but nothing too big

a/n: This was like the second fic I’ve written for this fandom, and it’s been sitting in my docs since last year lol, anyways, enjoy!

Reblogs are appreciated, just use my custom tag, #TheMaladaptiveWriter12, if you do! ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Cross posted from my Ao3: TheMaladaptiveWriter12

It was the Friday after next and this week was “Slumber Party.” What better place to throw it than Ramshackle Dorm. Mirai was excited. None of them, besides the inhabitants of Heartslabyul, had ever been to his dorm, and that was only to help clean, and now it was. There were no more squeaky floorboards, no holes in the ceilings, no torn and dirty wallpaper, no chipping paint, no more water damage, no more flickering lights, and no more dust. Mirai was proud that he was able to host this event, and everyone chipped in too. Trey and Jamil were bringing food, Kalim was bringing blankets and pillows, Idia was bringing board games, junk food, and a movie projector, Azul was providing drinks, and all Mirai had to do was provide housing, since he didn’t really have anything. So Mirai made sure everything was in place. The floors had been swept and mopped, the carpets were cleaned, miscellaneous objects were put away, Grim’s cat toys, or that’s what Mirai likes to call them, were put away, and as for Grim, well, Mirai couldn’t stash him away. But Mirai also wanted to bring something to the table, so he called Jamil, who picked up on the third ring.

“Mirai? Has something happened?” Jamil asked through the receiver.

Mirai tended to see Jamil like an older brother, although Jamil worries too much, which Mirai hated sometimes, but he always was looking out for Mirai.

“No, I’m fine. I wanted to know if I could make something for Kalim if you were there to supervise the process?” Mirai asked carefully.

“Supervise?”

“Well, Kalim always says that he can’t eat anything but your cooking, and I know you being his advisor makes you weary of what he eats, and I wanted to bring a little bit of home to the party, so I-”

“You wanted to make it in front of me so Kalim could eat it?” Jamil finished.

“Yeah. Is that okay?” Mirai asked. “You can help if you want.”

There was a long silence before Jamil made a noise of affirmation, “I don’t see why not, but I can’t leave Kalim by himself.”

“What about Cater or Lilia?”

“Ah, of course. Be there in twenty minutes.”

“Thanks. See you then,” Mirai beamed from his side of the phone.

“You are quite welcome, Mirai.” Jamil said, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“See you in twenty. Later.”

“Good bye.”

Mirai hung up the phone and rejoiced, dancing a bit. He had been racking up some courage to ask Jamil, but couldn’t do it. He really wanted to bring a piece of his home to his new one, and what better way to do that than food.

“What’s got you in such high spirits, human?” Grim asked, walking into the lounge chomping on an apple.

“I’m excited for tonight. I finally have the right stuff to make something from home,” Mirai exclaimed.

“Is it edible?!”

“Yes,” Mirai laughed, “And you’ll get some if you be a good little cat and do not cause any trouble.”

“I’m good! Ima be good,” Grim said eagerly, practically drooling.

“That reminds me, did you want to hang with us tonight, or are you gonna disappear like you always do after eight?”

“I don’t know yet, but you better save me some snacks,” Grim demanded little paws on his little cat hips.

“Of course,” Mirai said, racing down to pet Grim between his flaming ears.

“Hey! Hey,” Grim shouted, “Enough with that sappy stuff! You’re weirding me out!”

Mirai laughed as Grim scampered off to somewhere in the dorm, and went to prepare the things for when Jamil arrived.

A while later, knocking at the door had Mirai jumping from his kitchen cleaning.

“Grim! Could you get that? My hands are full,” Mirai called from the kitchen.

“Who are you to be bossing the Great Grim around,” Grim griped, but did it anyway.

Not long after Jamil was following Grim to the kitchen. It was five-thirty, and the party started at seven-thirty. They still had a good amount of time.

“Hey Jamil! Glad you could make it,” Mirai said, washing his hands.

“Hey,” Jamil chuckled, “It looks great in here.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks man,” Mirai said, quickly busing himself with tying his hair up into a bun, sliding his favorite blue cloth headband over his bangs, “It took a while, but without the help from the guys at Heartslabyul, this probably wouldn’t be happening.”

Jamil was silent for a second but Mirai ignored it. He was used to the stares when people saw the state of the left side of his face.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Jamil said, lifting up a duffel bag in one hand, and a tiered cake tray of food in the other, “But I didn’t know how long it would take, so I bought my stuff with me.”

“No, no, you're fine. Just stick the bag in the foyer and the food can go on the kitchen table.”

Jamil left and came back shortly after, and Mirai just got done putting a glove on his prosthetic hand. Jamil walked up after Mirai finished and washed his hands.

“So, what are we making?” Jamil asked, drying his hands.

“Shoofly Pie,” Mirai beamed.

“Shoo-Shoofly Pie?” Jamil stammered.

Mirai cackled. “Yeah, Shoofly Pie. It’s a pie from where I come from. It’s mainly molasses and sugar, but once it bakes, it’ll have a cake-like texture. Hence why we call it the cake baked in a pie shell. No actual flies needed.”

“Sounds good. What do we need?”

Mirai scurried around the kitchen, preheating the oven, getting out the flour, the dark brown sugar, some cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, molasses, baking soda, and a stick of butter. Jamil watched with amusement, letting the Prefect do as he wanted.

“Oh wait! Bowls,” Mirai gasped.

Mirai raced over to the cabinet where Grim and he kept the bowls and began climbing the counters.

“Woah, woah! What are you doing?!” Jamil yelled, rushing to the Prefect’s side.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” Mirai waved off, setting two mixing bowls down next to his knees, then he closed the cabinet.

Jamil sighed, grabbing the two bowls and set down at where they were cooking, before racing back over to Mirai. “Here,” Jamil said as he grabbed Mirai by his bony hips and lifted him up off the counter, and then lowered him onto solid ground.

The whole moment seemed to slow down time. All Mirai could focus on were Jamil’s large hands, clamped around his waist, and the straight face Jamil seemed to always carry. Even if it was so little, his face still told a whole story, held so much weight, so much emotion.

“I-I was fine, r-really,” Mirai stammered, when Jamil let him go.

Jamil sucked his teeth in annoyance, thinking about a certain white haired Housewarden, “Now you are. So what’s next?”

Mirai walked him through the steps of measuring the flour, salt, sugar, nutmeg, and cinnamon and put them in a bowl.

“Now we slowly add the butter,” Mirai muttered, breaking off bit by bit of butter, mixing it into the dry mixture.

“Is this the filling?” Jamil asked as he mixed up a decent pie crust.

“Uh, no. It’s for the crumble on top.”

After the crumble topping was made, Mirai grabbed their third bowl and started on the filling. Mirai added the light molasses, water, baking soda, and one lightly beaten egg.

“Is that really all?” Jamil asked as he kneaded the pie dough.

“Yep,” Mirai chirped, mixing the filling. “I’ve had it a couple of times for the holidays, it’s quite sweet.”

Jamil didn’t look too convinced, but he kept his mouth shut.

The two continued in a comfortable silence, the two of them doing their respective jobs. Jamil finished the pie crust and started the process of rolling it out. Mirai on the other hand began cleaning up around him, putting things back where they belonged, putting their used dishes in the sink, and cleaning off the countertops.

Jamil was still rolling out the dough when he had gotten a call from Kalim. “I gotta take this. Finish rolling that out for me?”

“Sure,” Mirai said, changing the glove on his prosthetic, “One sec.”

Jamil didn’t say anything as he left the room.

Mirai walked over to where Jamil had been rolling out the pie dough and took over. But as Mirai began to roll out the dough, or in this case, tried to, he realized that he was struggling. He was too short, well, short enough to where he needed a stool to actually get a good push on the rolling pin.

“Give it here,” Jamil said.

Mirai jumped, Jamil scaring him, and allowed the Scarabia Vice to take the rolling pin from Mirai and began rolling out the pie dough like a pro.

“How come you make that look so easy?” Mirai pouted.

“It’s nothing really,” Jamil mumbled, rolling the dough.

“Well, I wouldn't say that,” Mirai said, looking over his shoulder, “I surely couldn't do that, and it looks like you have a lot of experience in the kitchen. I admire that.”

Jamil was silent, but from the way Jamil lost his steady hand, and the way he turned his face to the far left, Mirai could tell he was flustered, but he didn’t comment on it.

Now that the dough was rolled out, Jamil filled the pie tin, Mirai filled the crust with the filling, and once the crumble topping was added, Mirai put the pie into the oven to bake.

“Well that’s done,” Mirai sighed as he stretched his arms over his head.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Jamil said, drying off his hands, “You did good.”

“Thanks.”

“Anything else I can help with?”

“Uh, you don’t have to, but I was gonna make some hot dogs.”

“We still have some time to kill,” Jamil said, looking over to the clock on the wall. “Just tell me what to do.”

Mirai and Jamil spent the next hour making hot dogs, they were the prepackaged kind, but they had to make quite a lot of them. But halfway through, Jamil suggested also making a chili to go on top, and so they divided the work until there were thirty hot dogs and a pot full of chili.

“Thanks Jamil,” Mirai smiled, taking a sip of his water.

“Why are you thanking me?” Jamil asked. “I just helped you cook.”

“You're smarter than that Jamil,” Mirai chuckled, untying his hair, and removing the cloth headband, “I think you can figure it out.”

Jamil looked taken aback, beautiful dark eyes going wide. “I didn’t do anything, really,” Jamil mumbled, playing with his bangs, “I should be thanking you.”

“You’re welcome, Jamil.”

Jamil smirked, before patting Mirai on the shoulder, “You’re welcome, Mirai.”

“Now let's get cleaning,” Mirai whooped, rolling up his sleeves.

Jamil shook his head fondly.

Just as they finished cleaning the kitchen, the oven timer dinged.

“Pie’s done,” Mirai chirped just as a knock sounded at the door, “And just in time too.”

“Human,” Grim called from the lounge.

“I’m busy,” Mirai sang back.

The door sounded and muffed talking could be heard. Mirai checked the time, it read six-twenty.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”

“Cay-Cay,” Mirai cheered.

Cater laughed, opening his arms in invitation, “Didn’t I say it was Cay-Cay if you were cray-cray?”

“Well, there’s your answer,” Mirai laughed, returning the hug.

Mirai snuggled against Cater. He liked hugging Cater. He was warm, he always smelt good, like something fresh and crisp, with a little hint of spice, and he always felt safe in his solid form.

“You comfortable there, Hon?” Cater asked, one hand scratching through Mirai’s hair, and his other was rubbing at Mirai’s waist.

“Yeah,” came Mirai’s muffled reply.

Cater chuckled fondly.

“You just smell really good,” Mirai groaned, letting Cater go.

Cater laughed loudly, and Jamil chuckled from his spot next to the stove.

“You here by yourself?” Mirai asked.

“Yeah,” Cater said, “Riddle is helping Trey, and Kalim is with Lilia.”

“Thank the Seven,” Jamil sighed.

“You know I wouldn’t leave him by himself.”

“Well, we’re almost done,” Mirai said, pointing to the table full of food. “The pie just came out of the oven.”

“Ooh! What kind is it?”

“Shoofly?” Jamil asked more than said.

“You remembered,” Mirai smiled.

“Never heard of it,” Cater said. “Does it come from your home world?”

“Ding! Ding! You would be correct!”

Cater and Jamil chuckled at Mirai’s sound effects.

“We also made hot dogs and chili dogs for those who don’t want pie,” Mirai informed.

“Aww, look at you,” Cater gushed, pulling the Ramshackle Prefect into a hug, “Always so thoughtful!”

A set of knocks echoed throughout the dorm and Mirai perked up.

“I got it,” Cater called, letting Mirai go to answer the door.

There was shuffling from the lounge and shortly after Trey and Riddle entered the kitchen.

“Evening guys,” Mirai greeted

“Evening, Prefect,” Trey greeted, “Where should I put this?”

“The kitchen table is fine! We can fix it when everyone gets here.”

“Sounds good.”

“Evening Mirai,” Riddle greeted happily.

“Hey, Riddle, how are things?” Mirai asked.

“Everything is in order, as it should be.”

“That’s good.”

“Oh, we didn’t know where to put our bags, so we just sat them with the other two. Hope that’s okay?” Trey asked.

“You’re good.”

“Well now that we’ve got more hands,” Cater chirped, “Let’s get this party started!”

Cater pulled his Bluetooth speaker from his bag and began playing wherever he felt fit the mood, and with the help from Jamil, Trey and Cater, Riddle directed from the top of the stairs, Mirai rearranged the lounge so that everything faced the window. The couch that was in front of the window was moved to sit along the rug, the couch in front of the stairs was moved horizontally to the window, the rocking chair was moved to the base of the stairs and the end table and coffee table were moved to sit horizontally to the window. Grim just sat there on the couch as he read, letting them move him about. Halfway through, Vil and Rook showed up and watched it all unfold.

“Evening, Rook, Vil,” Mirai called over the music.

“What fun this looks, Roi du Sommeil,” Rook commented.

“It’s getting there,” Mirai huffed, walking over to the two, “Just set your things there, we’re almost done.”

“I was told to bring fairy lights,” Vil said, holding up the two large plastic bags.

“Fairy lights?” Mirai asked.

“Those are for later,” Cater cut in, taking the bags.

There was a knock on the door, and Vil opened it to let Kalim, Lilia, and Malleus in.

“Hey guys, drop your stuff in the foyer for now,” Mirai instructed, “After we get this situated we can go from there.”

“Okay,” Kalim complied, “I bought even more blankets!”

As Trey rearranged the food on the coffee table, Mirai, Jamil, and Malleus laid out the blankets so that the hard wooden floors were covered and cushioned, then Kalim added the pillows. Cater and Jamil stopped midway through and had a dance break, then Lilia changed the music to something harder, the base loud and booming, which he screeched along to. Riddle and Vil perfected everything, looking as pretty and important as ever as they gave orders. With help from Rook and Trey, Mirai brought another end table down to the lounge just as the Octavinelle trio arrived.

“Little Shrimpy,” Floyd called, “Where are you?”

“Lounge,” Mirai called, “Just drop your stuff near the door.”

Azul, Jade, and Floyd entered the lounge, the drinks in a cooler.

“Oh, that goes next to the coffee table,” Mirai directed, pointing to the space next to it.

“Of course,” Jade said, walking the cooler to the coffee table.

“Shrimpy,” Floyd yelled, tackling Mirai onto the floor.

“Floyd,” Azul chided, “Be careful!”

Mirai grunted as he hit the floor, taking the entire weight of the six foot two eel human.

“You okay, Prefect?” Jade asked.

“Y-Yeah,” Mirai coughed, strain in his voice, “Fl-Floyd, it’s nice t-to see you too, b-but you gotta be c-careful. You might b-break m-me.”

Floyd cackled, snuggling his face into Mirai’s hair, “Shrimpy’s weak.”

“Yes I am, that’s why you gotta get off me,” Mirai laughed, patting Floyd on the back.

“Okay!”

Floyd sat the two of them up, sitting cross legged on the blanket pallet.

“What time is it?” Mirai called.

“It’s seven-ten,” Malleus answered.

“Thanks.”

“Idia’s here,” Vil called.

Idia entered the lounge with his projector equipment, and a long black bag.

“Heyaz,” Mirai waved from within Floyd's hold, “Set it up whenever you’re ready.”

Idia nodded, walking his equipment over.

“We’re setting it up in front of the window, right?” Idia asked guesting to the small blank end table next to the surge protector plugged into the wall.

“Yep. Is that okay?”

“No, no, that’s fine. Just making sure,” Idia said with haste.

“Cool, just tell me if you need something.”

“Here Cater,” Idia said tossing the long black bag to him.

“Thanks,” Cater chirped, “Okay Ima need help from my tall guys for this!”

“For what?” Mirai asked.

“It’s a surprise,” Cater said with a finger to his lips.

Cater left the room to gather everyone else, and Floyd followed shortly after being called by his brother.

“What are they doing?” Mirai muttered.

Mirai turned his body around to look at Idia. Mirai thought he looked cute in his hoodie as always, and this time, he wore his hair in a ponytail, a baseball cap atop his head, and with the light of the golden afternoon, Mirai thought he looked even prettier, ethereal even. And the way he worked with the equipment, he looked more in his element than ever. His hands were working fast as he positioned the projector and his laptop, plugging in cords here, there, and everywhere, his eyes were narrowed in concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking from blue tinted lips, with a flash of his sharp teeth here and there as he muttered to himself. Mirai found the tall gamer all too cute.

“Wh-What is it? Did I d-do something wrong?” Idia asked after realizing the Ramshackle Prefect was staring.

“N-No,” Mirai stammered, “I was just watching.”

“O-Oh. It’s nothing interesting,” Idia muttered.

“You just seem really good at that kind of stuff, and that’s what makes it interesting.”

Idia’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly, as he tried to come up with an answer. Mirai laughed while getting up to leave Idia to work.

“W-Wait,” Idia called, grabbing Mirai’s arm.

Mirai was surprised, but so was Idia, his face was red, hair growing pinker and pinker. He looked like he was surprised with himself, like didn’t mean to do that.

“Leona and Ruggie are here,” Lilia called from somewhere in the dorm.

Idia let go of Mirai and quickly busied himself with the projector again. Mirai took that as Idia wanted to forget what just happened, and got up to greet the last of his guests.

“Oi Herbivore,” Leona called, “Move your dorm. The walk here is too long.”

Mirai laughed. “I don’t think I can do that, but I’ll ask the Headmage and let you know what he says.”

Leona smirked, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips.

“How come we’re the last one’s here, but on time?” Ruggie asked, dropping his stuff next to everyone else's.

“They were helping set up,” Mirai explained.

“Hey Ruggie, come here,” Trey called from somewhere.

“Coming,” Ruggie called back jogging off.

There was a sound of pattering feet from behind, Mirai turned around to catch Trey, Azul, Malleus, and five Caters scurrying into the lounge.

“What are they doing?” Mirai questioned, walking off.

“Hey herbivore,” Leona said, running his whole hand across Mirai’s head, tangling his fingers in thin blonde strands and pulling, “you smell good.”

Mirai made a surprised noise akin to a choking cat, and tilted his head back, bending his body, as Leona pulled him by the hair.

“Good?” Mirai grunted, trying to get Leona’s hand out of his hair, “I’ve been cooking and moving around all day. Ya sure it’s not just sweat?”

“No, like, you smell really good,” Leona muttered. “Like meat?”

“Leona,” Mirai whined, face flushing, “That’s just gross. Even if I was just making hot dogs, that’s still gross.”

Leona chuckled. “Yeah that’s what it is.”

“Ugh! Now I wanna change my clothes. That’s just plain nasty.”

Suddenly there was a crackling sound and then the whole dorm went dark.

“Guys?! What happened?! Are you okay?!” Mirai yelled, wringing himself from Leona’s grasp.

Mirai tripped over the bags as he scrambled to the lounge, thinking of the worse. When he entered the whole room was pitch black.

“G-Guys?” Mirai called wearily.

One by one, strings of fairy lights lit up the room, little balls of light danced around the room like golden fireflies, making the huge blanket fort more and more visible. The top of the fort was peaked, hanging from the chandelier, a side was connected to the fireplace and the railing of the stairs above the couches. And at the front, there was a little pathway leading from the entryway into the fort, and the little door was made of blankets and sheets, tied on the edges to keep them out of the way. Mirai was in awe. He’d never seen anything like it. He just stared at the setting in front of him.

A flash broke Mirai from his stupor, making him startle. Cater was smiling from behind his camera.

“You gonna come in or just stand there?” Cater chuckled.

“Wh-What’s happening?” Mirai asked, voice a little distant.

A push at Mirai’s back had him whipping his head around to Leona who was smirking at him.

“C’mon,” Cater smiled, grabbing Mirai’s hand, leading him in.

They had to crawl in the little path way, but once they pushed past another set of blankets, the fort opened up. Kalim’s red, orange, burgundy, and purple blankets looked even better from the inside. Fairy lights lit the inside of the fort, and the little balls of light from outside also floated around in here. There were poles situated in the corners, where the fort, keeping it all in place, and in the back, there was yet another doorway, just like the one Mirai had crawled through. Mirai honestly didn’t know how they did it.

Azul and the twins were chatting on one of the couches, Kalim, Jamil, Trey, and Riddle were sitting around the coffee table on the blanketed floor. Malleus, Lilia, and Vil sat on the other couch, Rook sat at Vils feet on the floor, Idia sat next to the projector, and Ruggie sat around one of the other tables. Leona scooted in from behind Cater and Mirai, crawling over to Ruggie, where he promptly got comfortable.

“You can thank Cater for orchestrating all of this,” Azul said from the couch, “It was all his idea.”

“The light’s were from Vil and I,” Lilia added.

“Idia engineered the fort layout,” Malleus imputed. Idia flushed at his honorable mention.

“I bought extra blankets and sheets,” Kalim cheered, raising his hand.

“Rook and I concocted a potion that glows in the dark, mimicking fireflies,” Trey said racing up to a ball of light.

“What’s happening?” Mirai muttered again, still in shock, “H-How, why?”

“Because we wanted to,” Cater said looking Mirai in the eye, “And according to a little kitty cat, a certain Prefect was feeling down, and wanted to find a way to cheer him up.”

Grim poked his head in from the other blanket door, ears flat to his head.

“You weren’t supposed to go blabbing all that,” Mirai chided

“Well you said you were homesick,” Grim mumbled, “And you were all mopey. A-And it was annoying, so…”

Mirai was taken aback by Grim’s confession. Yeah he was feeling a little homesick. He missed the food, he missed the music, he missed the familiarity of it all, he missed not having to try and understand everything that was thrown at him, but he wouldn’t trade this for the world. He now had friends that cared for him, he now had a purpose, even if it was small in the greater of things, he now had a reason to look forward to tomorrow and what was to come. Yeah it was hard sometimes, yeah some of these guys could kill him with their pinky finger, but he was happy with life, more than he’s ever been for a long time.

Mirai threw his head back laughing, mirth spilling from his lips before it boiled over into misery. Tears filled his eyes, and Mirai bowed his head and cried into his hands.

Everyone was everywhere at once. Mirai couldn’t tell who was who, or what anyone was saying over his own sobbing voice. But he was trying to stop the tears that just wouldn't stop falling.

“I-I’m f-fine,” Mirai sobbed.

Mirai was pulled into a pair of soft arms. They smelled sweet like strawberries and something floral, like roses. It was Riddle.

“Ramshackle Dorm Rule by default, Mirai must confide in his upperclassmen whenever he’s in trouble, no matter the problem,” Riddle muttered, petting into Mirai’s hair.

Mirai pulled away, sniffling as he wiped his face with his sleeves, voice wet and raspy, “Thanks guys, I mean it.”

“You’re welcome,” chorused around.

Mirai smiled, wiping at his eyes again, “You guys are the best, you know that?”

“I mean, I already know that,” Leona boasted, a snarky smirk on his lips, “But I don’t mind hearing from you.”

“Please,” Vil scoffed, “If anyone here is the best, it’s me.”

“I think it is I whom he was referring to,” Malleus’ deep baritone voice rumbled.

The three began to bicker, much to everyone’s chagrin and Mirai watched the scene unfold in front of him.

“Ready?” Cater asked, bringing the Ramshackle Prefect from his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Mirai nodded.

“Alright! Party in the Blanket Castle of Ramshackle is a go!”

Everyone filed out and changed into their pajamas, and Mirai found it a funny sight. Riddle was in a red button up pajama set rimmed in white, the cuffs of his sleeves and the hem of his pants lined with white lace, Trey was wearing a green T-shirt and red plaid pajama pants and Cater was wearing a black muscle tank, an orange and white striped pair of pants, and a cardigan that matched them. Leona was in nothing but a pair of yellow pajama pants, Ruggie was dressed in an yellow oversized t-shirt and light blue shorts. Azul wore a purple button up pajama set rimmed in black, Jade and Floyd both wore blue pajama pants with little shells printed on them, and instead of the white tee like Jade was wearing, Floyd wasn’t wearing one. Kalim was dressed in a loose champagne pajama set, and Jamil was in a red tank and loose blank pants. Rook was in a dark blue button up pajama set, and Vil was wearing a flowy dark blue satin gown. Idia was in cyan blue pajama pants and a black graphic tank, and black ankle socks, Lilia was in a large magenta shirt and black leggings, and Malleus was wearing a black satin pajama set, rimmed in a fluorescent green.

“Everyone ready?” Trey asked, from inside.

“Coming,” Mirai called, crawling on his knees, back into the blanket fort.

Mirai was wearing a loose long sleeved shirt, the sleeve that held his missing arm was tied a little ways below the stump. His loose black shorts reached his thighs, and on his feet were black ankle socks.

“C’mere you,” Cater cooed, holding Mirai under his arms, and pulled him into the fort.

“Cater,” Mirai laughed as they both tumbled inside, Mirai ending up lying on top of Cater, both of them giggling.

“Getta room,” Leona hollered.

Cater stuck his tongue out at the Lion Beastman.

“Where’s Grim?” Mirai asked.

“Over here,” Trey laughed.

Grim, who was currently pouting, was dressed in a tiny blue t-shirt and gray pants, and he looked absolutely adorable.

“Aww,” Mirai gushed, “You’re wearing clothes!”

“Well he had to fit the dress code,” Kalim laughed.

“Wait,” Mirai gasped, untangling himself from Cater, and reached up onto the mantel to grab the Ghost Camera.

“Is that a Ghost Camera?” Cater asked.

“Yeah,” Mirai nodded, turning it on, “The Headmage said to use it to take pictures of my time here, to record all the nice moments, and why not use it now?”

“Then allow me.”

The ghosts, Biggie, Smalls, and Rangy, materialized and took the camera from Mirai.

“Good idea,” Mirai chirped, getting into position.

Everyone shuffled around, pushing and shoving here and there. Floyd made a scene about sitting next to Mirai, which caused Kalim to act out as well. Eventually to make it fair, Riddle made everyone sit in height order, shortest in front, tallest in the back, and Grim in Mirai’s lap.

“Everyone ready? On three,” the Rangy said, “One, two, three.”

The camera sparkled and shook, white mist swirled around it before it stopped.

“Thank you,” Mirai thanked them, putting the camera away as they dissipated once more.

“So Jamil says you made something for everyone?” Malleus asked.

“Oh yeah,” Mirai shouted, scooting over to the snack table. He only fell on his face once, but no one commented on it. “I made Shoofly Pie!”

“Fly?” Floyd asked. “Is it made with flies?”

Mirai snorted a laugh, “No. It’s just called that. It’s mainly molasses, and it’s kinda like a cake, well, a cake in a pie crust. But it’s really sweet.”

Trey cut the pie beautifully, serving it to those who wanted some, topping each piece off with the choice of a dollop of whipped cream or a scoop of ice cream. Mirai waited for everyone to get a slice before eating a piece.

“It’s sweet,” Riddle said, surprised.

“It kinda tastes like chocolate,” Kalim said with a smile.

“It's weird,” Floyd laughed. “It’s like cake, but it’s pie.”

“That’s the point,” Mirai laughed. “That's why we call it the cake in a pie shell.”

“You did good,” Jamil said, smiling as he ate.

“Thanks,” Mirai smiled, finally being able to taste home. Mirai felt like crying again, but refused to cry again for a second time.

“Well don’t stop here,” Jamil said, “There's plenty of food to go around.”

And like that, the slumber party was in full swing. Trey passed around cakes and cookies, Jamil dished out a slew of finger foods like fries, wraps, sandwiches, and more. Idia bought out the chips, some dip, and some candy, Azul passed around bottles of soda, water, iced teas, and fruity drinks. Mirai bought the hot dogs and chili out, Ruggie, and Leona were more than happy to have some meat, and Cater and Lilia were more than happy with the added spice from the chili. Once the food was passed out, Idia pressed play on the movie, starting the movie marathon, and apparently it was a series about a magical dark academia. Mirai dug into almost everything. The sandwiches were amazing, so were the chicken and lettuce wraps, he also had some fries and some chips. And before he could forget, he made a plate for Grim. As they ate, Mirai tried not to look at Leona as he devoured the meat in his plate. For some reason, the look Leona had when he bit into his food, Mirai would flush, and he didn’t need to have to go down that route in explaining himself.

“Shrimpy sure eats a lot,” Floyd chuckled.

“I could eat an entire pizza if I wanted to,” Mirai answered, gulping down some cream soda.

“That’s disgusting,” Vil cringed, “Do you know how much grease and fat is in that?”

“A lot, but hey, I’ve eaten worse.”

Vil scoffed, eating his wrap.

“Mirai,” Kamil called, “Try this!”

Kalim was in his face in an instant, in his hand was a plate of spherical pastries, swirled with chocolate.

“Wha-”

“It’s called Luqaimat,” Kalim said, sticking one of the dumplings with a toothpick, and bringing it up to Mirai’s face, “Here, open!”

Mirai complied, opening his mouth, letting Kalim feed him the dumping.

“How is it?! How is it?!” Kalim asked excitedly.

Mirai chewed thoughtfully, eating the sweet dumpling. It was soft and fluffy, deep fried, and smothered in chocolate. It was good.

“It’s good,” Mirai laughed.

“See,” Kalim cheered, eating one himself, “Here, here! Have another!”

Mirai laughed, finding Kalim’s excitement adorable. And he complied, letting the eager Housewarden feed him.

“I want some,” Grim called, bounding over to Kalim.

“Here,” Kalim said, feeding Grim.

Grim’s big eyes lit up at the taste. “I want more!”

Kalim laughed, “There’s plenty!”

Later on Idia, Azul, Trey, Riddle, Jamil, Ruggie, and Lilia played a very intense game of Old Mage, which resulted in a screaming match between Riddle and Idia. Mirai could vaguely hear Riddle saying something along the lines of something being against the rules, which turned into him screaming his little red head off. Trey tried to calm him down but he seemed too far gone to care, Idia started going on about something like ‘you noobs being no match for me’ which resulted in an even angrier Riddle. Ruggie laughed the entire time, and Mirai was pretty sure he was cheating somehow. Cater had a photo op, taking pictures of everyone and everything, Malleus, Kalim, Jade, and Rook were very engaged with the movie and its storyline, Vil sat off to the side, having a very extensive conversation about potions with Rook, and at some point, Mirai ended up lying between Floyd and Leona.

Floyd lay to Mirai’s right, stuffing his face with treats, while he read a comic book, and on the other side of the Ramshackle Prefect was Leona, the Beastman playing with the back of Mirai’s hair as he dozed, his long tail hitting the back of his leg as it swished lazily. Mirai knew he was doing it on purpose, but it didn’t bother him, so he let him be.

But right now, Mirai was internally having a crisis. He was stuck between the tall, pale, lean muscles of Floyd, his shoulder blades sharp, and the tiniest hints of his rib cage showed through his skin when he moved. And on the other side was tall, broad, and bronze Leona, who was pure muscle, so Mirai distracted himself by reading a book he had been meaning to read.

“Will Shrimpy’s arm grow back?” Floyd asked, lightly touching the shoulder of his remaining arm.

“No,” Mirai laughed, “Human’s can’t grow their limbs back.”

“That’s not fair. Azul can grow legs back in his Octopus form.” There a moment before Floyd asked softly, “Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes, but it doesn’t really bother me anymore,” Mirai said, looking up at Floyd.

Floyd was pouting, heterochromatic eyes distant.

“Don’t worry about it,” Mirai giggled, smiling.

“Shrimpy’s too nice to me,” Floyd whined, throwing an arm over Mirai, “I can’t be mean to him.”

He was changing the subject. Mirai guessed he didn’t like, or more like, he isn’t used to genuine niceties being given to him.

Mirai laughed, “That’s called being conscious of other people’s feelings.”

Floyd was silent, a thoughtful expression returning to his face. For a moment, Mirai thought he was gonna just ignore his comment, or worse, squeeze him for it, but it never came.

“Well I don’t like it,” Floyd finally said, pouting. Floyd got up and crawled over to his brother, draping himself around Jade from behind. Mirai could tell he was just embarrassed, and Mirai found it was endearing.

“Is that also where the scar on your eye came from?”

Mirai rolled his head over to look at Leona. He was dreading having to face Leona again, because he didn’t know how he would act having to be totally aware of his state of undress.

“Mn,” Mirai nodded.

The scarring was pretty bad. It mimicked a burning pattern, flesh dark in some spots, light and shiny in others. It started at his forehead, and it traced down over his eyebrow, splitting it in two, down his left eye, over his cheek, and chin, ending a little ways down his neck and shoulder. It was so bad that his once green eye was now mixed with a cloudy white, little flecks of green now only shown through the top of his iris. Only on the worst days did it throb with pins and needles of pain.

“Does it still hurt?” Leona asked quietly.

“Sometimes,” Mirai answered.

Leona reached over, running the backs of his finger across Mirai’s cheek, turning his hand, he ran the pad of his thumb tenderly over the scars across Mirai’s face. Mirai stared intently back at Leona. His eyebrows were frowned a bit, eyes not looking anywhere in particular, filled with an intensity Mirai couldn’t name. When Leona’s thumb reached Mirai’s eye, he closed them. It was too soft, and too intense, and Mirai didn’t know if he could take it.

“What about your scar,” Mirai challenged, sounding too soft, too raw for his liking, trying to revert the attention away from him.

“That’s a secret,” Leona smirked, letting his hand fall, catching the hint.

“Fine, I’ll come up with my own story behind it.”

“Oh?” Leona chuckled, “And what would that be?”

“You are six years old, and stuck in a tree,” Mirai smirked.

Leona growled something deep from within his chest, and Mirai was sure the noise would be engraved into his brain for the rest of his days. But the smirk stayed on his face, so Mirai knew it was okay to continue.

“You’re calling for help as you're stuck, and your brother comes to your rescue. The branch breaks, landing you into your brother's arms, but in your descent, you cut your face in the process.”

Leona laughs, like, genuinely laughs, and Mirai is absolutely smitten. He ends up laughing too. After their laughter dies down, Leona speaks up again.

“You okay?” Leona asked, propping his head up on his hand.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Mirai asked, tilting his head a bit.

“Well earlier, you were upset.”

“Yeah, I’m fine now. Jus’ a lot of stuff going on, and I failed to remember what was in front of me.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s in front of you now?”

Mirai was genuinely going to answer his question, until he noticed the slyness behind it. He knew, Leona knew.

Mirai stuck his tongue out, making a little noise as he did.

“Careful, Prefect,” Leona warned, “I just might have to bite it off.”

“Bleh,” Mirai said, sticking it out again.

Leona growled, and lunged at Mirai.

Mirai yelled as was pushed down as he and Leona wrestled, rolling around in the blankets, pushing and shoving.

“No roughhousing in the Blanket Castle of Ramshackle,” Cater laughed chidingly, even if he was taking pictures of the two.

“He started it,” Leona said, trying to keep Mirai still.

“Did not,” Mirai shot back.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and watched.

“That looks fun,” Floyd commented, “Shrimpy fight me next”

One of Leona’s hands ended up skirting Mirai’s waist and Mirai squealed, pushing Leona away.

They both went stock still.

“You’re ticklish?” Leona smirked.

“N-no,” Mirai denied, panic slowly going on his face.

Leona started inching closer.

“Le-Leona, st-stop,” Mirai demanded, shooting away from his assailant.

Leona lunged forward, legs bracketing the Magicless Prefect below him, his attacks switching their target to Mirai’s waist, fingers skittering his belly.

Mirai laughed uncontrollably, as he kicked and wiggled, trying to get away.

“Say I win,” Leona breathed a laugh, “Say I win. Say you yield.”

“Y-you win, you win,” Mirai cackled, “I y-y-yield!”

Leona stopped his assault and looked down at the boy beneath him. Mirai was panting, face flushed red from laughter, mouth stuck in a smile as he giggled as if he could feel the tickle.

Leona chuckled, “You-”

Leona grunted as Mirai whopped him upside the head with a pillow.

“Now you’re gonna get it,” Leona roared, snatching a pillow from behind him, and started beating Mirai with it.

“Hey, he’s defenseless,” Kalim yelled, grabbing a pillow and whacking Leona with it.

“My turn! My turn,” Floyd cheered, grabbing a pillow, and smacking Leona.

“H-Hey! Why am I getting hit?!” Leona asked, shielding himself as he tried to hit the other two.

Mirai gasped as he was yanked from under Leona by under his arms. Looking up, Malleus was smirking down at him.

“Thanks,” Mirai said, going in to hit Leona again.

“Ruggie, help me,” Leona yelled.

“I don’t know,” Ruggie said in fake thoughtfulness, “You look okay ta me.”

“Don’t worry, Leona! I’ll help you,” Cater yelled, raining his attack on Kalim and Floyd.

Floyd whipped and flung his pillow around, smacking anyone who got to close. On one of Floyd’s backswings, it ended up flying from his hands, hitting Vil in the face.

“Hey,” Vil shouted, picking it up and throwing it back, it hit Riddle.

Riddle yelped, as it smacked him dead in the face.

“You,” Riddle growled, grabbing the cylinder shaped cushion, swinging it by the tassels, flinging it back, it hit Azul.

Azul screeched, picking up a pillow and throwing it back.

The chain continued until everyone had a pillow, attacking each other. Floyd was in no man's land, hitting anyone he could reach, Jamil had joined Floyd's side, tag teaming Riddle and Trey, getting his hits on Kalim during the battle. Malleus joined in some time after, using magic to throw pillows at Leona with a vengeance, and then that was when Ruggie and Lilia joined their charges’ sides. Jade and Azul took turns fighting off a very unpredictable Floyd or they set their assaults on Vil and Rook, who had deadly precision.

“Fl-Floyd! Floyd! Floyd,” Azul shouted at the cackling eel twin, “You’re hitting me in the face!”

Floyd laughed as he wailed on Azul, before turning around and hitting his brother.

“A dangerous game you play there, dear brother,” Jade said, a sinister smile gracing his lips.

Grim kept a stash of pillows at his side, using to hit anyone who got too close. Mirai found it cute as Grim tried to lift some of the bigger pillows and throw them. Mirai on the other hand, ended up crawling from Cater, who made it his mission to hit him, and in the process, hit Idia, who was sitting very still in the corner.

“Oopsie, sorry babe,” Cater apologized.

It was like night and day, one second Idia looked like a cornered rabbit, then next he was a hawk, sinking his talons into his prey. In a flash, he was snatching a pillow from beside him and was wailing on Cater.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Cater chanted, trying to get away from Idia.

“Thanks Idia,” Mirai laughed.

Idia nodded.

Mirai laughed and playfully hit Idia in the arm with his pillow, Idia snickered and hit him back.

Slowly but surely, the pillow fight ended, everyone huffing and puffing as they lied there in a pleasant silence. Kalim giggled, then he went silent, then he giggled again. And like a virus, they were all laughing.

“‘M tired,” Floyd giggled, still catching his breath.

“As I,” Jade agreed.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Vil said fondly, “You have quite the hit, Azul.”

“As do you, Vil. But you can thank Floyd for that.” Azul laughed, glasses long gone.

That tidbit earned him a couple of chuckles.

“The Great Grim wants a do over,” Grim huffed from where he was spat on the floor, “All you guys did was hit me.”

“You’re an easy target,” Leona gruffed.

“Fynya! Am not!”

Laugher rang out once more.

“I suppose this should be a good time to settle down,” Malleus muttered, looking off to the windows.

Riddle hummed in agreement, “It is already nine-thirty.”

“Then I suppose some cleaning is in order.”

“Then let’s hop to it then,” Mirai said, sitting up.

After the food was cleared out, the tables were moved for the right, to give more space. Mirai helped clean up the best he could before Trey and Cater sent him away. Mirai helped out elsewhere, and in no time flat, everything was cleared out for the night.

It was late, Mirai realized, the sun had long set, making way for the moon and the stars in the dark sky. Everyone was beginning to wind down, the energy from earlier melting into something more calm and cozy. Mirai entered the fort once again, and found Idia sitting by himself, knees to his chest, biting his thumbnail as he watched the movie.

“You seen this before?” Mirai asked Idia as he sat down next to him, shoving a chip into his mouth.

Idia jumped, but settled back down when he realized who it was, muttering, “Yeah.”

“So what’s it about?”

Idia started out small, telling Mirai about the story from its origins as a novel, but once he kept going, he couldn’t stop.

“The film is a masterpiece all in itself,” Idia rambled, flames growing brighter, and larger, his smile turning into a smirk full of sharp teeth, “Like the storyline, totally S-tier, the producers were fans themselves, so they wanted to make sure the movie hit the best points, and it did! The acting is great, although I think Henry’s acting skills are a bit mid. And like, the special effects team totally out did themselves, everything is on point. And don’t get me started on the OST.”

Mirai giggled at Idia’s rambling. Mirai found it cute when he geeked out.

“Like the use of the fog machine in this scene, genius! And-”

Idia suddenly clamped his mouth shut, face flushing a lovely red.

“Sorry,” Idia mumbled.

“What for man? So you like the makings of films that originated as literary masterpieces? We all have our likes and hobbies, so why be embarrassed about it?”

There was a beat of silence before Idia’s eyes narrowed harshly. Mirai was about to ask what was the matter when he spoke once more.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Idia finally asked, tone harsh.

“Why not?” Mirai asked nonchalantly.

“Well you’re not gonna gain anything from this, so you might as well stop your efforts.”

“You just seemed like a really cool dude.”

“Cool? You think I’m cool?” Idia asked, unconvinced.

“Mn,” Mirai nodded.

“What’s so cool about me? Who wants to befriend an introverted trash-tier Housewarden, who won’t leave his room unless he really has to, to only binge play MMORPG’s all night?”

“The introverted trash-tier Magicless Prefect, who never left his room unless he had to, binge playing FPS’s all night,” Mirai deadpanned.

Idia clamped his lips together, eyes widening.

Mirai sighed. “Being here has let me see the other side of things,” Mirai spoke quietly, “Being here has let me make friends. That little Housewarden meeting was the first time I actually felt seen since coming here. Being here has let me cook with someone, for someone, and talk to people who actually care about me. So even if it’s for a little while, why not try and start over and befriend the S-tier Housewarden with the cool flaming hair?”

Idia hid himself, pushing his blushing face into his knees.

“You’re not trash-tier,” Idia mumbled, “Definitely S-tier with some cool DLC.”

Mirai laughed.

“But seriously,” Mirai said, “Next time, if you need a gaming buddy, call me! I need someone who will binge play all night with me.”

Idia laughed loudly, accepting.

“Prefect, come!”

Mirai waved to Idia and kneeled his way over to Vil, who was sitting on the couch with his legs curled underneath himself.

“Sit,” Vil said, gesturing to the space in front of him on the floor with a brush.

Mirai crawled over and sat.

Vil ran his fingers through his hair, combing through the thin strands, starting from the root, manicured nails scratching softly at Mirai’s scalp, as he pulled gently down to the tips. Vil said nothing as he did this, they both sat in a comfortable silence. After a while, Vil ran his long thin fingers over Mirai’s forehead catching the headband with the tips of his fingers, pulling it back and down off his head.

Vil was terrifyingly beautiful to Mirai. He was a force to reckoned with, he let no one in his way, and he let no one tear him down. Mirai loved his presence, his confidence, the way he held himself, he was like a diamond, so pretty, yet unbreakable.

“Your hair is so thin, though it’s soft, like bird feathers,” Vil muttered, “you have to take better care of it.”

“It’s always been that way,” Mirai answered.

Vil sucked his teeth in annoyance as he grabbed the brush and started running it through his hair.

“Rook,” Vil called, “Get that purple bag.”

“Yes, Belle Vil,” Rook obeyed happily, crawling out of the fort.

“No, no,” Mirai stammered, twisting his body from Vil, “You don’t have to-”

“Hush child and sit still,” Vil scolded softly, tapping Mirai’s shoulder with the brush.

It wasn’t long after Rook came back with a travel bag filled with hair care products, and another filled with tubs, tubes, and vials of creams.

“Here,” Vil said, passing the bag of creams, “Do his face.”

Vil busied himself with opening various vials of oil and dumped them into his hands, rubbing them together, then from root to tip, Vil began running his oil hands through Mirai’s hair. Mirai’s face contorted as Vil tugged at his roots, head lolling back every time.

“Roi du Poison’s grip is strong, non?” Rook laughed, mixing various creams into his large hands.

“Am I hurting you?” Vil asked, hands in his hair stilling.

“N-No,” Mirai stuttered.

“Good,” Vil said, continuing.

Rook rubbed his hands together, as he stood on his knees, scooting closer to the Ramshackle Prefect until his knees bracketed Mirai’s crossed ones.

Mirai found Rook pretty. He was strong, yet so soft, it made his beauty even more intense and overwhelming. His jaw was sharp, but his eyelashes were long and soft. His green eyes were a fierce green, while his lips were in a soft smile. It made Mirai’s stomach flutter.

“Head up,” Rook commanded and Vil tilted Mirai’s head back.

Rook got closer, placing his large warm palms on Mirai’s cheeks, using his thumbs to massage the creams into his face.

Mirai winced at his touch.

“Son visage est si rouge,” Rook laughed. Vil leaned forward and looked down, he smirked with a chuckle, sitting back and continuing his work.

“Smells good,” Mirai mumbled, closing his eyes and Rook worked his thumbs higher on his face.

“Which one,” Vil asked.

“Both.”

Vil grabbed a comb this time, and started at the tips, working his way up to the roots, getting the knots and tangles. Rook grabbed another cream, it was pink, and began working it into Mirai’s cheeks and the dark purple bags under his eyes.

“Your freckles are magnifique,” Rook mumbled softly, “Like the stars in the skies of the Savanna. And your scars, they’re like a map, joining those constellations together.”

Mirai could feel his face flush, lips pursing themselves together.

“Beautiful,” Rook cooed, massaging Mirai’s temples.

“Don’t hide your insecurities, you’ll never learn to live them. You’re far too beautiful to hide yourself away,” Vil mumbled, his voice bitter, “Learn to take compliments, learn to love yourself. If you continue to compare yourself to others, you’ll never learn of your own beauty.”

“There’s nothing beautiful about me,” Mirai mumbled bitterly.

He thought he came to terms with himself, with his appearance. But then again he wouldn’t be so beant on hiding his face with his hair, and hiding his prosthetic with a glove, calling a fashion statement. He wouldn’t be holding back the tears that were threatening to fall. He spent his whole life comparing himself to others, indirectly downgrading himself into nothing. It was hard to see himself as anything at all.

“Don’t cry, Roi du Sommeil” Rook soothed with a sad smile, holding Mirai’s face in his hands as he leaned in to place a chaste kiss on his temple, “You’re too pretty to cry.”

“There is nothing pretty about too thin lips, too thin hair, a body that’s too thin, too boney, too pale, too many freckles. There’s nothing pretty about missing an arm, or the scars that burn my face, and the discoloration of my left eye,” Mirai bit out, angry and bitter.

“If you don’t see it, then I’ll make you. I’ll shower you in the love you deserve, until you see it,” Vil threatened.

“Where you see your flaws, I see your assets,” Rook whispered, “Don’t see yourself short.”

“But-”

“Hush, now. Let us take care of you,” Vil chided, lips brushing the crown of Mirai’s head.

Mirai sighed, keeping his eyes down, because if he looked at Rook, he didn’t know if he could take the feelings those green eyes held.

The night waned on and the party atmosphere was starting to dwindle. Vil took up one of the couches, a light-up hand mirror in Rook's hand as he applied his face creams. Leona was asleep towards the back entrance, snoring a little loudly. Floyd was dozing against his brother as Jade, Azul continued to watch the movie. Idia was dozing as well, but continued to watch, even if he had seen it many times before. Jamil and Trey were discussing their vice Housewarden duties quietly, Malleus took up the rocking chair, book in his hand.

“Hey guys,” Lilia whispered, “Come look.”

Everyone looked to where Lilia was referring to, and as Ruggie got up, he stepped on Leona’s tail.

“What is it?’ Leona asked, waking with a snort.

In the far corner of the fort, Mirai and Kalim were sleeping. Kalim was clutching Mirai like a stuffed animal, snoring quietly into his hair, and Mirai was snuggled into Kalim’s chest, legs wrapped around the Scarabia Housewarden like a koala.

“You stepped on me for that?” Leona gruffed, lying back down.

“Oh, I gotta getta pic. Where’s my phone?” Cater whispered excitedly.

Kalim muttered something in his sleep, his body curling over to hold the Prefect a little tighter, and Mirai twitched at the movement, his breath stuttering, but the two never woke.

Mirai woke up hot and sweaty, his shirt sticking to his back like a second skin. He looked up and found Kalim’s sleeping face above him, his lips slightly parted as he drooled into his pillow. Giggling, Mirai shimmied himself out of his grasp, which caused Kalim to promptly turn over and snuggle him into Jamil’s arms. Sitting up, Mirai stretched his back, looking around the room. It was quiet. The only thing lighting the room was the fairy lights at the peak of the fort, and even with that, it was still quite dark. Mirai felt around for his phone, but he never found it, and he didn’t dwell too much about it. The movie was no longer playing, Idia’s laptop closed with a sleeping Idia lying next to it, his giving off a dim blue glow, the flames tame and low. Vil had his back turned to everyone, taking residence on the couch next to the stairs, thin body wrapped in a soft purple blanket, and Rook was below him on the floor wrapped in his own. Riddle was on the one above Mirai, leg and arm flopped over the edge, Jamil was to Kalim’s right and next to him was Trey. Cater was to Mirai’s left, sleeping facing up, and next to him was Malleus, who was facing Lilia who was next to him. In the front, Azul was squished between the twins, their long legs tangled together, Floyd muttering in his sleep, chewing on Azul’s collar. In the back lies Leona snoring like a freight train, with Ruggie at his side. Grim was nowhere to be found, probably in his room.

“You’ll be tired come dawn, Dear Boy.”

Mirai jumped at the deep voice, whipping his head around, a pair of glowing half lidded magenta eyes started back at him. “Lilia,” Mirai pouted, his voice quiet.

“Apologies,” Lilia chuckled quietly, sitting up, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“N-No, it’s fine.”

“Did you have fun?” Lilia asked, tilting his head to the side, a smile in his voice.

“Yes, I did,” Mirai whispered.

“I’m glad. You deserve to-”

Leona’s snoring stopped abruptly, making a sound akin to someone choking. Mirai and Lilia froze. Leona's ears twitched, as he rolled over into Ruggie, throwing an arm over his shoulders, cuddling more into hyena, and a moment later, he was snoring again.

Mirai laughed quietly.

“You deserve to live your youth the way you want to,” Lilia continued, a chuckle in his voice, “You only get one chance.”

“I know, and yet I still asked for a second. That’s why I can’t mess up this one,” Mirai whispered.

“A peculiar child, you are. Come.”

Mirai slowly as he tried no to step on anyone, made his way over to Lilia, who grabbed him when he was within arms reach. Lilia situated them so that Mirai was in between him and Malleus.

“Says the vampire,” Mirai chuckled, once he was comfortable, pulling the blanket over the two of them.

“Is that what I am to you, a Vampire?” Lilia asked mirthfully.

“Are you not? You have fangs, pointy ears, red eyes, and every time I see you, you have a bat next to you. Not to mention that you speak like you’re older than everyone, and when you tell stories, they sound too personal to be just a story.”

“Lilia, sleep.”

Mirai looked up, and Lilia craned his around. Malleus’ glowing green eye cracked open tiredly.

“You too, Son of Man.” Malleus mumbled, throwing an arm around Mirai, fingers brushing against Lilia’s as he closed his eyes once more, “You’ll be tired come morning.”

Lilia chuckled, wrapping his arms around Mirai, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Now sleep.”

And Mirai did.

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katyspersonal · 10 months

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I am feeling so ill. My mental pain keeps translating into physical one, like something that keeps poisoning me from within, and it can last from very morning to very evening at times. I wish I stopped being reminded of the backstabbing, of how much that person has been lying to us, and how she threw away her empathy and common sense in an instant, as soon as she got enticed with the prospect to feel like a """victim""". When everything was explained and even forgiven prior.

For a Christian, she sure is a terrible one, and really should pray to her God for forgiveness. Because that's sin of vanity if I've seen one. Her sorry pro-lifer ass that can't even use they/them pronouns because it is "not correct in English" and has been following Mico herself before he deactivated must be satisfied with people around with whom she has to censor her true opinions, I suppose? She had all context, she had explanation and apology, she faked having accepted that apology too, lied about not really caring about the "drama", faked patience and lied about always welcoming me back - only to latch at the first chance to backstab me and my friends she got. And the way she conveniently ignored how I took my words back, too.. I don't know what is WRONG with people who think that when a person that has been stalked and harassed for a year lashes out upon feeling threatened - they've shown their """true face""". Nobody is more alien to normal human emotions and reactions than Americans. I guess for them you are either physically incapable of anger, fear and fucking up OR you are a vile dangerous monster.

But the real question - what did she want to ACCOMPLISH? She didn't really feel like a star and gain sympathy like a victim of the """horrible mistreatment""" that me lashing out when she defended my STALKER was - that I also TOOK BACK. From my knowledge, she kept herself anonymous. And of course instantly blocked me, because like a coward she could not answer for her lies. She also lost other friends too - one HATES liars and hypocrites more than anything, another has similar emotional problems to mine so no longer feels safe, third straight up was harassed by that person as well.. "They are still lovely people" she says. And I am not a "lovely" person, of course. Because "lovely" people just smile and shrug off being stalked, harassed and talked untrue shit about for a year, I suppose? Because "lovely" people don't become clingy for someone defending them so loud and proud?

My only theory is that she just secretly harbored hatred towards me all along but was forcing the facade of patience and understanding, until one day finally came what looked like a good justification to drop it. But then why sending me all that emotional support when I fell for suicidal road back in spring? Why write at least two essays to Alfred-chan about her right to interact with me and about how I deserved kindness and compassion? Why acting flattered when I said I loved her (platonically) when in reality she was creeped out? Why bothering to explain me how she did not blame me and always would welcome me back in the blog? Following me for a decent time and all that interacting. Was feeling like a poor victim that fell under attack of the "monster" for like 5 minutes without even revealing her name to the world and losing more likeminded people worth it? Was it worth it? How? How mad you should be at someone for getting attached more than """acceptable""" and for lashing out before learning why you'd defend someone that harassed us, that you'd resort to backstabbing and break all your prior promises? She even told me stuff like "ratting someone out is very condemned in my culture and I'd never do that". Then what DID she do, when she showed the moment of weakness I had 40 days ago, to a deranged ableist that has been condoning harassment and canceling for hell knows how long and she could tell wished me harm?

I want to ask whether it was worth it, but clearly she didn't lose anything of value. One of those "but internet connections are not REAL uwu" people.

I so badly want to say that this is my fault for trusting someone who is not only American but also a Christian, double combination of hypocrite and all you know. Because I just want to find a reason. I want to know WHY, even if the answer is something as shallow as nationality and religion. But this is just not fair to people who are one or both of these things but have common sense to not lie and not be cut throats. I guess the real reason is that some people are just too easily enticed with the chance to feel like the "good" guys, to mark category of people that do not deserve any empathy, human bonds and understanding because they are "evil and dangerous". It is just easier. You feel justified to mistreat a certain category of people because they are "bad" - all while the criteria for why they're "bad" is growing progressively absurd. But this coming from a person that preached kindness and acceptance. Yet she sided with the people that punish me FOR having shown that kindness and acceptance to someone else, and never intend to stop. Why following Mico yourself, then?

I have no skill of forgiving people that do not feel remorse, I am not that kind of a person. It just hurts until I forget or find another thing to worry about. I don't know where to turn to, what superior power to pray to for faster healing from this, because betrayal like this is the worst thing you can do to me. It is fine to refuse to forgive someone's mental breakdown, but why not tell me off in private? Why run under the skirt of the person with bad faith that only supports neurodivergence in the form of being quirky about one's special interests and not for what problems it really brings? Does she really think it is victim's fault when they develop bad trust and abandonment issues upon a creepy stalker trying to ruin their life? The cunt would've doxxed me if they could only over the fact that I said I was gonna reblog from who I want - again, something she herself kept getting harassed over. So was that okay, then? She never meant her words, then, and only flexed her "I interact with who I want" for weird flex of herself as a hero, and not for our friends group?

Well, yes. It has to be that. Until she saw an opportunity to switch sides and find a more compelling "enemy" to stand against. The final punch in the gut is that she assumes my friends are okay with the betrayal either, just goes around as though nothing happened, as though having betrayed someone and still writing them down as vile and unremorceful even after they apologised to her two times was nothing. Yeah, why? If a person failed to meet her personal mark of forgiving, tolerating and shrugging off harassment - then they deserve to be backstabbing and thrown to those cultish ableists. That's her logic.

And I just want to vent all this in a sorry effort to remind myself: "See, she is so petty and callous that she doesn't deserve crying and hurting over! People like that are below you, Kat, just forget it and move on!" But in the end, I just can't stop asking myself why. She did not feel like that type of a person. My other mutual also said it was not expected, since she had that 'wise', thoughtful exterior all along and acted as though she was trustworthy. At this rate I was right in my accusation of her being brainwashed, I guess... The only thing I was wrong is the TIME when it happens.

#/vent #personal #honestly she is arguably worse than other two #they are just bad people from the get go #but she? she CHOSE to be bad. like. deliberately.#that's worse.

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curedeity · 11 months

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this is a stick up!! give me your top 5 beyblade platonic relationships!!!

IT IS TIME IT IS TIME

1. Madoka and Gingka

This has to be first like im sorry but have you seen their qpr energy? They are literally the modt solid and consistent dynamic of the show, and while underutilized, theyre just genuinely sweet. I love how their relationship continues with them frustrating or annoying each other sometimes, like how youd imagine from a roommate youre comfortable with, but having that same genuine trust and care. Theyre a powerful team that just gets each other normally, and helps each other do a bit more, a bit better.

I genuinely love that theyre just so comfortable around each other with no romantic teasing. Gingka just gets to casually sleep on her couch and stuff.

And from a fanon perspective it gives me a lot to do. Both these characters end up being flat at my points through the show, and digging into their dynamic is one of my easiest ways to add depth to them.

I love having Madoka and Gingka turn to each other to manage the whirlwind of their team in masters. Traveling this far is something new for Madoka, and she clashes with the team a fair bit. Gingka, on the other, struggles to actually work as a team and could use Madoka there to remind him.

I love fury aus of these two, or roleswap aus, i think their dynamic in general has a lot to play with when them working together is placed at the forefront

To mention i love writing my post fury interpretation of the characters where, after being together for so long, they now live separately and have to learn how to manage that.

Basically, i think there are a lot of stages of their dynamic to explore if i dig into it. And theyre just genuinely solid.

2. Gingka, Hikaru, and Ryo

This is the only dynamic that could challenge for top spot and absolutely none of you are surprised to see it. I love this dumbass family dynamic, and it is genuinely sweet to me how Hikaru, even in canon, just gets welcomed in so easily and naturally.

I also think theres a lot to explore from each perspective (if you cant tell from my fanfic archive). Hikarus emotions about her mom and getting a new family, both her reticience and eagerness. Her different interactions with both Ryo and Gingka, because at least canonically its clear to see shes closer to Ryo, so discussing how that affects her rivalry and friendship with gingka is interesting.

And Gingka, post fusion, just got his dad back in a tumulteous way, so exploring that dynamic is interesting. Along with how his perspective on Hikaru would change as Ryo basically adopts her while hes traveling.

And Ryos perspective on these two? Phenomenal. The guilt over not being there for Gingka, the way he helps Hikaru and tries to grow close to her?

All three parts of this dynamic are very strong and unique with interesting aspects to explore, and ultimately just a strong family dynamic where they all really care for each other.

3. Yuki and Madoka

I care about these two being a qpr wayyyyyy too much for canon but like. Im correct and i should say it.

While Madoka and Gingka are interesting for how their priorities wildly differ but how they form a team anyway, Yuki and Madoka have this instant understanding of each other and agreement of whats important.

Not to mention how isolated Yuki is, and how a lot of his arc (or the semblance of one they gave him) is about him opening up to others and becoming more confident, i think him forming a bond with Madoka really works with that. He really deserves someone who understands him, and Madoka deserves someone with common sense.

It also leads to interesting post fury interactions. Madoka and Yuki, as much as they would be friends from fury, probably werent super close, and madoka just opened her house up to yuki as she does to everyone. But then they really have to get to know each other, because no way is Yuki going back to that observatory. Madoka has to learn how to coexist like this with a person who isnt Gingka, like, just a reminder of how different people are. And Yuki has to really come to trust Madoka, to not just be getting along because the world is ending, but to truly accept his place there.

Theyre just lovely. I love them

4. Yu and Tsubasa

Im not gonna write much about them here. Theyre just good. Look at canon, theyre perfect. I didnt want to put them here cause their so obvious. But itd also be a lie to not put them here.

5. Hikaru, Tsubasa, Kyoya and Ryuga

Putting these all together even though i ship tsubasa and kyoya, but in this case i have a separate platonic dimension for these interactions that center around Hikaru. This sort of dynamic is really one that emphasizes how what happened at the end of fusion affected each one, and how they all have different reactions to it and how to deal with it.

Choosing this sort of dynamic lets me use them to foil each other as a group, and gives unique individual interactions. Idk if i wanna detail them all, bc i have fics doing so, but ill take a second to justify Ryuga and Hikaru.

I think Hikaru is the only person who could really challenge Ryuga in how he hurt her (and maybe hyoma). Her life really, really changed from what he did, in a way that sets her apart from the rest in a way that would take ryuga out of his comfort zone the most.

Hiakru, similarly, is the only one of the trio that cant really deal with ryuga, and i like hurting her. Having to interact with him would force her to confront things she might not want to confront.

Tsubasa and Kyoya with Ryuga is just them bitching off at one another.

Honorable mentions!

Gan Gan Galaxy: they didnt get on here bc i highlighted two individual dynamics from this team, but id like to point out as a whole unit their dynamic is very strong. They really carry masters, each having a unique feel in the group and causing so much chaos. They really managed to make a great group with these characters, and im still immensely attached to all of them

Team Wang Hu Zhong: Theyre just perfect. I love the way their all supportive of each other, even if they snipe at each other sometimes. Just strong, nice characters.

Lera and Nowaguma: I like these two cause they remind me of me and my brother. Not that my brother is shy like Nowaguma but he doesnt talk a lot. And i talk A Lot. And am Very Loud. Its a good dynamic, i love it.

Team Starbreaker: Oh these guys are so fucked up. Theyre so fucked up together. Most would kill each other for a cornchip. I love them. Its especially fun to write their team interactions as a focus and try to figure out the ways they foil each other, when they were normally used for foiling specific gan gan galaxy or other cast members.

Maru, Ren and Zyro: all headcanon baby! I genuinely like the sort of sibling relationship most of the cast forms with Maru. I think we see it with Zyro the most, but i also think Ren would quickly ingratiate herself in the dynamic to be one of Marus women role models. I think Zyro and Ren have a strained relationship from how Ren is treated, but the way she learns his moves and challenges him is interesting, and I really wanna see him respect her similarly. I think theyd get along well and have similar chaotic energies.

Hyoma and Ryo: fucked up disappointed mentorship. What can i say? Hyoma has Issues and Ryo is a dumbass.

Lastly, Hikaru and Teru. I think they should be besties

#i love exploring platonic dynamics soooo much and qprs are giving me life to write #these were so hard to choose and i probably have so many more i could detail #beyblade #beyblade metal fight

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collidingxworlds · 7 months

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This is just a sum-up of the main rules of this blog. For the full version, please check out my Google Doc. Please make sure to read at least this before interacting with me.

# This is a selective and mutuals only blog, which means that I can be picky about whom I choose to write with. If you post too much stuff unrelated to the main themes / characters of your blog or make too much OOC post, I might not follow / unfollow you. On this note, I follow only blogs that have rules pages and at least a skeleton of an info page for their muse(s).

# This blog is low activity and runs mostly on queue, so replies usually take about 2-3 weeks. Feel free to send me a reminder if I don’t answer for more than a month, but don’t spam me. If you instant reply to me / reply fast (meaning in less than 4-5 days) I might take longer to reply to you, because I'll queue your replies more spread out than the norm. This is nothing personal, it's just for the sake of my mental sanity.

# While I don’t strictly practise reblog karma, this blog is not a meme dump, so I’d really appreciate if you sent in an ask before reblogging memes from me. Otherwise, please reblog the meme from the source (when available).

# This blog is a drama-free space. I don’t reblog callout posts or the likes. If you do, please tag them accordingly so I can blacklist them. Same goes for vague-posting and negativity towards others. If I see you reblogging / posting this sort of thing regularly I won’t follow you / I’ll softblock you. Also, if you think that bullying and sending death threats to people over the fictional content they engage in is right and just, don’t follow or interact with me. Bullies are not welcome on this blog.

# After you follow me, or when we become mutuals, please remember to fill in my interest checker! It will help me have an idea of what has drawn you to my blog and what muses of mine you’re interested in. It will also let me know which muses to use when sending memes. Alternatively, you can let me know your preferences through IMs.

# I’m a descriptive RPer (I mostly write multi-para / novella). No pressure to match my length! I’m good as long as you give me something to work with (so I would really appreciate it if it was at least a couple of paragraphs!). Short replies are good for casual threads / casual back & forth, but I like my plotted threads to have more content.

# If you wish to drop a thread, for any reason, you’re more than free and welcome to do so. Please warn me, though, so I can cross it off my list and we can discuss starting something new (if both parties wish to).

# Due to the nature of some of my muses (and the mun’s personal preferences), this blog will deal with dark themes, as violence, gore, murder, blood, cannibalism and more. Let me know if you have any triggers or things you’re uncomfortable with before we start, so I’ll be sure to avoid it. Also, if you wish for me to tag something specific, please let me know!

# When RPing I strictly ship with chemistry, which means that I don’t jump into it, even when it comes to ships I already like. I usually prefer having some sort of OOC connection with my shipping partners, also to make sure that we’re both on the same page and fully comfortable with what we are doing.

# As of November 1st 2023, this blog has mains. While this does not considerably affect my reply speed towards mutuals, They are the blogs that get most of my attention and effort (and I expect to receive the same treatment) and the occasional edit / moodboard / etc. They also have priority on plotting and shipping (romantic and platonically). Their muse is the version I refer to whenever said specific character is mentioned in a thread. Up-to-date mains’ list:

@imprvdente / @hvbris

@omniishambles / @uselessdevice

@rapxir

@kingofthewebxxx

Please, hit the like on this post if you've read it! Thank you!

#(( mun scotty's personal log ::ooc:: ))#mobile rules #rules

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collectcr · 9 months

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🌞🌗🌟RULES AND INFORMATION!🌟🌓🌞

⭐HELLO THERE! The name I go by online Kris, and I'm an Aspiring Filipino roleplayer! I use She/Her pronouns most of the time, and I've been in the RPC for a few years! I have ADHD, and a bit of a hard time remembering things. Please do also excuse any spelling and grammar mistakes in our RP threads! My interests are cartoons, anime, video games and a lot more! Right my interests are placed in: The Owl House! ⭐

🌞INTERACTIONS🌞

• If I seem to 'ignore' you, I might just be busy or out of the house! On the occasions I don't respond after a few days, please remind me because I might have forgotten!😅

•This is a Multi-fandom blog, so crossovers are welcome! And I will be interacting with different fandoms that interest me for that reason!

•I will be mostly roleplaying as close to canon as I can, but aus are welcome too! I will include AU's and other timelines we could use down below.

•English is not my first language, so I apologise if my wording or way of speaking is a bit too bland.

•There will be no smut on this blog. There might however be other mature content like violence and stuff like that! Though maybe it'll mostly just be mentions of it.

•Feel free to point out any spelling/grammatical mistakes! Sometimes I don't spot them before responding-

•If something I do or say makes you uncomfy, please do tell me!:)

🌗SHIPPING?🌓

•The Collector is Child-like, and looks like one too, so I won't do shipping on this blog, but please feel free to reach out to me if you want to do a platonic ship!

• Though for the RP, if other characters come into play, then you're welcome to add ships! Just not for The Collector themselves!

🌠ABOUT THE COLLECTOR🌠

//OOC: I just copy and pasted most stuff from the wiki- ;w;

• The Collector is a former antagonist of The Owl House, acting as the secondary antagonist of the second season and one of two central antagonists of the third season. A mysterious, god-like entity known as a Collector, he was originally trapped inside the In Between Realm where they spent centuries awaiting their release. When assistance arrived in the form of Emperor Belos, The Collector helped the emperor with the Day of Unity in exchange for his freedom. Once the event proceeded as planned, Belos went back on his word and abandoned The Collector in his prison, only to be freed from it later by King. Upon his release, The Collector took over the Boiling Isles and turned it into his personal playground, with King as his bound companion.

•During his takeover, The Collector resided in the Archive House with King, together partaking in a game with the transformed citizens acting out the adventures of King's life. After Luz helps them understand their wrongdoings, they help protect the citizens during Belos' attack and help fix the Boiling Isles, including reversing the puppet spells he placed on the Boiling Isles citizens. He chooses to return to his home among the stars for introspection, occasionally returning to the Isles to visit his new friends!

💫THE COLLECTOR'S APPEARANCE 💫

•The Collector is a short humanoid being with childlike features. He has tan-yellow skin, bushy white hair and eyebrows, an upward-pointing nose and a large pale blue blotch that eclipses the left side of his face, giving the right side the appearance of a crescent moon shape. The Collector's eyes are yellow and have narrow pupils with scarlet irises. His left leg also appears to be pale blue.

•The Collector wears full-body clothing resembling robes or pajamas with an oversized collar and sleeves. His clothes are split between dark blue on the right and periwinkle-gray on the left. The sleeves have these colors switched, with the right sleeve being periwinkle with blue suns and the left sleeve being blue with periwinkle crescent moons, as well as a magenta border on the rims of the cuffs. He wears a dark purple nightcap with magenta trim and light star-esque spots. He wears dark blue shoes with light gray pom-poms on them. Additionally, he wears a light pink pendant with a purple crescent moon face around his neck.

•The Collector has three small, dark blue stars on his left cheek. On some occasions, usually if he is using magic whilst experiencing strong emotions, such as anger or excitement, his eyes emit a bright glow.

🌃THE COLLECTOR'S PERSONALITY🌃

•The Collector is depicted as a childish and mercurial entity. He is motivated by simple desires, wanting to have fun and play games with others, which he shows in his interactions with Belos, but much like a child, he gets quite emotional and impatient when his wants are not met. He partakes in theatrics often, speaking riddles and rhymes, although he will quickly give up on harder words. Despite his childlike attitude, The Collector has proven to be cruel and heartless when crossed. With a temperamental nature and great power at his fingertips, The Collector is a dangerous and unpredictable force that will not hesitate to punish those who upset him and terrifying others into obeying his demands.

✨AU'S AND TIMELINES WE CAN USE✨

• Shadow or Trappes Collector! A timeline where ((RP-er's muse)), found The Collector's tablet before Philip did.

•The Collector's reign timeline! A timeline where The Collector meets ((The RP-er's muse)), just as they were turning people into puppets in The Boiling Isles!

•The Collector goes back to the stars/Wandering Star timeline! Takes place in space, or another planet, and The Collector meets ((RP-er's muse)) when traveling!

•Human Realm and adopted AU! An alternate universe where The Collector didn't leave, and instead stayed. They live in both The Owl House, and with Luz's family in the human realm!

#Muse: The Collector #the collector #the collecter toh #toh rp blog #toh rp #the owl house rp #the owl house #toh #rp blog

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schrijverr · 1 year

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Life Is Ours, We Live it Our Way 3

Chapter 3 out of 18

Genderqueer Stevie with platonic soulmates Robin and Eddie living their best queer life.

In this chapter, Eddie, Robin and Steve visit more of the city, ending up at a queer meeting space. There Steve is fascinated by the drag queens and gets pulled into their circle, given a little makeover and is invited to a show.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: vague AIDS crisis mention, Steve's childhood mention, brief smoking mention, nightmare and a panic attack

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bisexual?

Robin and Eddie come spilling back into the room with breakfast right as Steve is finishing up his hair. Happily, he takes his coffee telling Robin she is an angel as he gives her a sleepy kiss on the cheek, only for Eddie to demand: “Hey, I’m an angel too! I was there ordering you coffee right alongside her. Where is my kiss?”

It’s obviously a joke, but Steve kisses his cheek anyway, deciding to fuck it. Eddie gapes at him for a second, before grinning widely and proclaiming: “You have broken my curse! I shall not be a frog any longer, but a prince.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve shakes his head fondly. “It’s too early for your dramatics.”

They sit on the bed to eat their donuts and drink their coffee, making plans for the day. Eddie had asked around in the club for places to go and had gotten an address of a common meeting place where people organized themselves and hung out. He asks: “Did the girl, who gave you her number have any places?”

Before Steve can answer, Robin exclaims: “You got a girl’s number? We went to a gay club and you got a girl’s number?”

Again someone else speaks before he can, because Eddie is grinning: “No one is safe from the Harrington charm, are they, Stevie?”

“She just thought I looked lost, which I did,” Steve pouts. “She was nice and she explained stuff to me. Besides, I just accidentally washed her number of my hand, so unless we bump into her again, she’s not gonna be of much help.”

“I still want to visit the Museum of Art,” Robin notes.

“So, museum in the morning, queerness in the afternoon,” Eddie suggests, making Robin snort as she and Steve agree.

Museums have never been Steve’s thing, but Eddie looks interested and Robin is rambling along, so he is happy to be there. They spend most of their time in the gift shop looking for the perfect post card to send Vicky, making fun of Robing all the way. Though they do help come up with a killer text on it.

Steve also decides to send one to Dustin, Max and Mrs. Byers, while Eddie writes and sends one to his uncle.

Then they go and try to find the address, getting lost three times, before they find the hidden away book store. None of them are sure this is the place, but they go in anyway.

There is an elderly lady behind the counter, who eyes the three of them when they comes in. Steve feels a bit like he’s being judged and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to pass her test. For a second they stand there awkwardly, then the lady asks: “Can I help you?” in a kind voice.

“Yeah, uhm, I was given this address by someone named Darren?” Eddie tells her, for once not his boisterous self. “Told me to ask for a Diana Scott.”

Immediately the lady drops the tentative, almost uncertain look, for a big smile as she says: “Well, you found her. Come on in, dearies. Through here.”

She ushers them through a door at the back and they enter a sort of community center style area where people are painting signs, drinking tea and playing games or doing other stuff. It looks homey and very queer in a good way, Steve thinks.

There is a relaxed atmosphere that doesn’t change with their arrival, though some look up. The people here are dressed more flamboyant than Steve is used too, though they remind him of people at the club from yesterday.

All of them are a little tentative, but the people are welcoming enough. One guy comments on Eddie’s tattoos and Eddie tells him he designed them himself. So, they quickly loose him to a table making big signs. While Robin rambles herself into a card game with a few elderly ladies, leaving Steve on his own.

Steve knows that the normal thing to do is join Robin and try not to be in the way too much. But his eyes keep drifting over to a table in the corner. There a group of men (or he thinks so at least) are sitting and chatting. A few of them are combing wigs, spraying them with hairspray, while another one is behind a sowing machine, pulling a lot of tulle through it.

And he can’t help, but be fascinated by them, drawn to them.

He doesn’t even realize how close he’s gotten until one of them looks up and meets his eye. The person is on the fat side and has no eyebrows, though a kind face. In an interested voice, he asks Steve: “What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here?”

“Uhm, I-” Steve blushes at the question, before finding himself answering honestly: “I was here to support my friends, but I'm starting to think I'm here for me as well…”

“Oh, a baby gay, don't worry, honey, we've got you,” the drag queen exclaims. “Here, sit. I’m Madame Tucker.”

“Steve,” he replies. “And it’s okay. I don't want it to seem like I'm hijacking their weekend,” he tells him, then asks: “Sorry, is that stupid?”

“Ahw, not at all, doll,” Madame Tucker assures him. “Just sit down, we won’t tell your two little friends. Here. Come on. Sit.”

Without thinking about it, he sits on the empty chair next to Madame Tucker, who is brushing through a wig. It’s huge, reminding him of the beehive his mother has in pictures from before he was born.

“It’s for my next performance,” Madame Tucker tells him. “Me and the girls got a couple of gigs in the clubs around town.” He is gesturing to the other drag queens, but the word ‘girls’ doesn’t feel out of place, even if some of them have a beard. “You ever been to a show?” he asks Steve.

Steve slowly shakes his head no, as if he’s afraid of disappointing Madame Tucker. And when he thinks about it, he kinda is.

“That’s alright, we can’t all be perfect,” Madame Tucker tells him with a wink. “But we can rectify it. Here, we preform tonight at this address.” He is handed a piece of paper. “You and your friends should stop by.”

“I’ll try to convince them. Thank you,” he says softly.

“God, you are a sweetheart,” Madame Tucker coos, taking his chin between his- her? fingers and pinching his cheek. Then she tilts his head and says: “God, you’re gorgeous. Look at your bone structure. Oef. What I couldn't do to you with a bit of gloss, some lashes. You could make a splash, honey.”

And Steve knows that comment should be weird. His face is practically being cradled by a drag queen in the backroom of a random bookstore as she tells him he would look good in makeup. That he is pretty. That he has good bone structure. Yet, he can’t help the way his eyes go wide and he softly asks: “Really?”

Madame Tucker’s features soften and she assures him. “Really.”

“Oh,” is all Steve says and he doesn’t think that encompasses what he’s feeling, but it’s the best he can do.

It seems like his reaction is telling Madame Tucker something, though he doesn’t know what that would be. But she lets go of his chin and makes him shuffle closer so that she can explain about what she’s doing to the wig.

More of the people at the table join in, telling Steve about makeup and costumes and playing with their expression.

Steve can only take it all in. Everything they tell him is so new and it should be scary – it is scary – but it’s also fascinating. They tell him about being free of expectations, of expressing themselves, of celebrating something that society tells them shouldn’t be. How it’s about transformation. About feeling at home in their own skin after years of being made out to be different. To be wrong.

What is most curious to Steve is their language. It’s not that they don’t talk English or anything, but the way they throw around names, pronouns, words. Somehow it makes him ache. Because they use drag names, normal names, girls, he, she and none of it is made clear and it all feels natural. Like they don’t have to explain, because it can all exist.

The old definition of bisexual echoes through his brain alongside Brook’s words. These are exactly the people she was talking about and he feels jealous of them, but also awed.

At some point, he meets Eddie’s eyes across the room. He had almost forgotten the two he came here with, too caught up in his own conversation. However, he is forcefully reminded when Eddie mouths ‘you good?’ at him.

He sends him a smile and a thumbs up, which are enough to get Eddie to turn back to his own conversation. But the reminder makes him feel a bit watched.

Still, it’s hard to cling to that feeling when the group turns their conversation towards makeup and how hard it can be to feminize their faces. One of the other drag queens turns to him and sigh: “You would have it so easy. Already those big pretty eyes and cheekbones. Girl, I wish.”

A pleasant tingly feeling goes through him at the words and he stumbles: “Oh, uhm, thank you, I think.”

“You truly are a doll,” the queen tells him, patting his cheek.

“And great hair too, you might not need a wig, if you grow it out a little,” Madame Tucker says, curling a strand around her finger.

“Thanks,” Steve says, this time a bit more proudly, because he puts effort into his hair.

“Can I do something?” Madame Tucker asks, looking mischievous yet sincere. Steve seriously contemplates it.

On one hand, he is aware of Eddie and Robin sending him glances, unsure how jock-y basketball captain King Steve ended up near the drag queens and, despite knowing how stupid it is, he feels like he must maintain something for them. It’s their weekend. Their chance to explore themselves and surround themselves with people like them. It isn’t about Steve and he shouldn’t do anything to take away from them.

However, on the other hand, he is so fascinated with the people and how they live. He wants to touch a part of that. He wants to know whether their comments about his bone structure and eyes are true. He just wants to know.

In the end, the want wins out, because Steve is a selfish person (Robin says he isn’t, but it’s hard to believe sometimes). So, he softly asks: “Nothing drastic, right?”

“No, honey, you can still walk the streets after without fear,” Madame Tucker assures him and he feels very safe under those words.

“Alright,” he says then and it feels like he did something right when she claps her hands excitedly at his decision.

It’s like with his words, the group has been activated. Madame Tucker gets handed a brush and she lightly dusts some blush on his cheeks, before uncapping a gloss and telling him to stay still. She grabs his chin again, holding it lightly. The lip gloss feels tacky and it’s a different feeling than when he kissed girls with it. She unscrews another tube and asks: “Are you going to flinch if I come near your eyes, doll?”

“Maybe,” he squeaks, quite unsure of what his reaction will be.

“Well, try not to. And look up,” she tells him cheerfully, before removing his glasses and bringing the black brush towards his eyes. It’s terrifying. Steve desperately wants to blink to get away, but he is also still. Frozen by fear and anticipation. He wonders what he looks like.

“There you go,” Madame Tucker says when she’s done. “You’re a natural at this, dear. Can I touch your hair? You obviously put work into it, I won’t change it if you don’t want me to.”

And again Steve is glad she recognized it without making it into a dig about him being vain. He might be a bit vain with his hair, but doing his hair is calming and it reminds him of when he was little and his mom still cared enough to help him. It’s nice.

Still, he can’t help but be curious what the people around him will do to it and Madame Tucker promised she wouldn't do anything too crazy. He trusts her, for some reason. So, he shrugs: “Sure, why not.”

“That is a good attitude,” she grins, before getting up to stand behind him.

He had forgotten how nice it is to have his hair played with. Not that this is exactly playing with it, but Madame Tucker is gentle as she styles his hair. It’s nothing like his mother harshly combing it down and lathering it with gel in the hopes it’ll do what she wants it to. The process is gentle and he feels cared for. It’s a strange feeling, but a nice one.

Once she’s done, he is presented with a mirror and his glasses. His heart leaps to his throat as he puts them on views himself in the reflection.

The person that looks back from the mirror feels a bit like a revelation.

His cheeks are dusted pink and with the mascara it gives him a slightly innocent look. Big eyes and a blush. His lips have a shine to them, making them appear plumper, almost giving him a pout like those girls who flirted with him.

And then his hair.

Steve has always known how to style his hair. He liked doing his hair, he spend years trying to craft a routine for himself in that large empty house that had nothing better to do. He looks at current movie stars, at people on TV for inspiration and he found something that works for him. This is nothing like that.

Madame Tucker didn’t do anything drastic like promised. But, if possible, his hair has even more volume and it’s- well, it’s hard to describe, but it’s fluffier and has more swoosh.

With big eyes, he looks at himself. Tentatively reaching out to the mirror, before stopping himself, because it’s stupid. Though, he can’t help, but touch his own cheek, wondering if it’s real.

It’s real.

Fuck.

He can’t believe he’s looking at his own face right now. The changes are subtle, but he can’t deny his face is more feminine. He looks softer. It has opened up his face, made it more welcoming, kinder. And he can’t deny how much he likes it.

Steve has never liked how he carries the sternness of his father in his face. How easily he could turn his face angrily and intimidating. He has never liked the sharpness of his mother he carries in his features. How easily his eyes judged.

But with the makeup he looses a bit of his harshness. In his face he sees the welcoming aura he tries to give off to the party when he hosts their DnD nights or keeps vigil by the pool so that they can swim when it’s hot.

He sees the title of mom they gave him, which is mostly a joke to them, though it slips out in emotional moment too. And even though he knows it’s a joke, he can’t help but try to be better than his own mother. To be warm and understanding like Joyce is to her boys. To be there like Mrs. Henderson. To encourage dreams like Mrs. Wheeler. To be funny and kind like Mrs. Sinclair. To keep trying like Ms. Mayfield. To be what the kids need him to be.

Not only that, but he looks more innocent too. Like he hasn’t seen the world ripped apart with only the ugly sides showing. Like a girl never disappeared from his garden while he was oblivious. Like he didn’t watch his friends almost die. Instead, it’s like he has a bit of his obliviousness back, even if it’s only in his face.

It’s nice even if it isn’t true. Steve knows he can never go back to unknowing the Upside Down, but the look lessens the blow. Softens the nightmares he has and the days he hates himself for all the ways he falls short. Like a bow on a badly wrapped present.

And yeah, even if he could, he will never remove those experiences, because he likes the person they made him. He likes being who he is now. How he is coming closer to finding himself. To being a person.

Steve likes being a person, who might not be the smartest and might not have all the answers, but who is there open and sweet. He looks like someone you can talk to.

He likes being the person people talk to. Whether it’s because they need company, advice, help or just to flirt. Steve has always been social. It’s what made him great at the social events of his parents even as a child. He likes being approachable. He never liked how King Steve had to have that air of untouchable around him.

Because Steve wants to be real. He wants to know that he’s here and like all the others. That he can be innocent, playful. That it doesn’t have to be all his responsibility, but that it is still known that he is there for those who care to talk to him. And that is what this look gives him.

In short, he looks in the mirror and sees himself looking back.

“Wow,” he breathes softly and he knows it sounds underwhelming, but he doesn’t know how to put in words what he is feeling right now. All he can do is stare.

“There she is,” Madame Tucker says at the comment anyway sounding proud and fond, like she was waiting for exactly that response. And he finds truth in her words, because there he is. That’s him, like a very real him.

After all the talks of the afternoon, the pronoun doesn’t really register, just the feeling of rightness that comes over him. Though he has no clue what to do with it.

He feels like he is meeting himself, which is stupid, because he’s known himself all his life. Yet here in this backroom with people who are practically strangers he has learned a lot about who he is, who he can be and, most importantly, who he wants to be.

It’s a lot to take in and he still knows he’s going to have to turn it all over in his mind some more later. Maybe even talk about it. Though he hopes that won’t be soon.

As if trying to curse him, Eddie appears right next to him in the mirror, nearly making Steve jump out of his skin. He takes Steve in as Steve holds his breath, unsure of the reaction he wants Eddie to have to him.

“Looking good, princess,” Eddie smiles, it isn’t sharp or teasing, just kind with dimples. “Robin said she wants to check out this diner recommended to her, but we can wait a bit if you’re still busy, no problem.”

Relief loosens in his chest. Eddie didn’t ignore it, but didn’t make a comment that expects an explanation. Steve just smiles, looking at Eddie via the mirror. He has never cared much about his own reflection but now he can’t seem to look away. He blinks, then says: “No, I’m good to leave now. It’s okay.”

“Alrighty, I’ll go save Robin from herself with the way she’s eyeing those books out there. She really needs to read first before buying more,” Eddie says. “See you out front?”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve easily agrees, before Eddie walks away.

“That’s a good one right there,” Madame Tucker whispers in his ear as they watch Eddie go. “I would keep him if I were you.”

Steve blushes at the comment, but he can’t deny it either, he can’t imagine a world without Eddie in it, just like he can’t imagine a world without Robin. “I’m trying,” is all he says.

“Good,” she nods. “Now, you can keep these, alright?” Madame Tucker hands him the gloss and mascara. “I know that look. You need a start if you ever want to try again.”

“What? No. I- I can’t take these,” Steve splutters, trying to hand them back. “I can buy them myself if I really want to. You don’t just have to give them to me.”

“I know, but I want to, honey,” she tells him gently. “It’s hard to walk into a store and buy these things for the first time. I’m just removing a hurdle. If you wanna make it up to me, you can tip me generously tonight. Is that okay, doll?”

“If you’re sure…” Steve trails off, not really wanting to give the makeup back now that he has permission.

“I am,” Madame Tucker smiles kindly. “Do you still have the piece of paper with the information about the show?” He nods. “Can I see it again?” she asks and he hands it over without hesitation. She quickly scribbles something under it, before handing it back. “Call me if you’re in a crisis. We help each other here, honey. I’m looking out for you now.”

It’s almost embarrassing how close to crying Steve comes at the words, so he just nods and whispers a small thanks, clutching the piece of paper tightly.

He is always the one looking out for others and though he loves being that person, it can be quite hard sometimes. To have someone offer aid so unconditionally makes his head spin. Before he can think better of it, he hugs Madame Tucker, then reverently folds the piece of paper and sliding it in his wallet. He’s not loosing another phone number this trip. Especially not this one.

Then he takes a deep breath and waves goodbye, before going to join Eddie and Robin in the bookstore front.

What he doesn’t know is that Eddie has frantically whispered his perception of the events to Robin when he got there, warning her to be nice about and not make it a big deal. So, Steve is filled with apprehension as he comes closer to her, trying to act casual as he greets her.

“Hey, you have fun?” he asks her, tasting a chemical imitation of cherry as he nervously bites his lip.

“Lots,” she smiles. “You looked like you were having fun too. Looking good, dingus.”

“Oh, well, yeah, it’s-” he begins unsure of how he wants to end. “They were nice. It was interesting and I didn’t want to be in your way, so you know.” He shrugs again.

“You’ll never be in our way and you can always talk to us,” Robin tells him gently. “But you don’t have to.”

Besides her Eddie nods. “We’re just happy that you’re here.”

Warmth flutters through his chest as he smiles at them. He isn’t ready to talk about it, but he knows he doesn’t have to, he can just figure it out and they’ll be there if he needs them. It’s a comforting feeling. “Thanks,” he says softly, before clearing his throat. “So what have you got there?”

Robin looks at the book in her hands, seemingly reminded, before pleading: “My favorite dingus, you have to help me. Please tell Eddie that I can buy this book. It’s about a lesbian vampire. It’s a gothic novel, I have to have it!” she pleads.

“Robbie, don’t you think you should read the other books you bought first?” Steve asks her, knowing how much she loves buying books and how she procrastinates on reading them.

“I know, but where in Hawkins, Indiana am I going to find a lesbian book, Stevie. I need to buy it now,” she tells him.

He regards her for a moment and her eyes grow wide in that way she knows he isn’t immune to and it’s all unfair. With a sigh he slumps and holds out his hand. “Just give me the damn book, Rob. It’ll be a birthday present and only if you finish one of your other books, or I’m saving it for Christmas, you hear me.”

“Loud and clear,” she grins widely as she hands him the book.

Eddie slides up next to him and says: “So much for me saving her. I was getting so close in denying her. You coddle her.”

“Oi, I’m right here,” Robin protests.

“Yeah, and you know precisely how hard I find it to say no to you,” Steve huffs. “You’re playing me like a fiddle and it’s unfair.”

“Ahww, you poor thing,” Eddie teases. “How can we make it up to you?”

And Steve knows it’s teasing, but there is no better way to bring it up really, so he says: “Well, I have been invited to a show tonight, you can come with me?”

“A show?” Eddie repeats and Robin is on his other side, her curiosity obviously piqued.

“Yeah, uhm, a drag show. I had never been, so they invited me and I thought we could go together, you know. Find a new spot than the club we went to yesterday. But you don’t have to if you think it’s stupid,” he quickly backtracks.

“No, I’d love to that sounds great!” Robin immediately says.

Eddie nods vigorously. “I’ve always wanted to go to one. It’ll be fun!”

A knot loosens in Steve’s chest and he grins: “Great, then it’s a plan. Now lets buy this book so we can go find food somewhere.”

Diana is behind the counter smiling at the trio. When Steve comes with the book, she rings him up and says: “I see some of the girls got their hands on you. I hope they were nice to you, they can be a bit overwhelming. But you look very pretty, dear.”

“Oh, thank you,” Steve says, feeling a bit shy. “They were very nice to me.”

“That’s good,” Diana tells him. “Everyone needs some people to lean on. Here, that’ll be 10 dollars.”

Steve pays, trying to ignore Robin and Eddie, who heard the entire interaction. He knows they have already commented on it and said they were fine and not going to mention it unless he does. But he feels a bit vulnerable and shy about it and the compliments are making him happy, but also a bit bashful. Though the positive reactions are very helpful, it also makes him wonder if it’s not too obvious.

He wants to inspect himself again in the store window, but pushes down the instinct. He doesn’t want to pull attention to it. He’s just being dramatic. They just saw him before, that’s just how they know.

Besides, he doesn’t want to scrub it off. He feels nice, maybe a bit unsure, but also comfortable, confident. He doesn’t want to give that up yet. Furthermore, he’s been winning fights lately. He’ll be fine.

Luckily, before he can spiral again, Robin has hooked her arm into his, Eddie doing the same on the other side, as Robin dramatically exclaims: “I have been tipped off about a diner where they sell the best burgers. Now I don’t know if that is true, but I want to find out.”

“We shall help you on your burger journey, brave adventurer,” Eddie exclaims with a dramatic flourish and Steve is laughing at their antics, worries already forgotten.

The burgers are very good and they get an idiotic picture out of it with Robin being smushed between Eddie and Steve, holding the camera as they all try to get into frame. Eddie has two fries in is mouth to make vampire teeth, Robin is using a piece of lettuce as a tongue and Steve is holding a slice of pickle up as a monocle.

Back at the motel, they clean up and rest a bit before the show later tonight. Steve takes the time to call back to Hawkins.

“Hi, this is the Byers residence, Dustin speaking,” Dustin greets him.

“So you can have manners,” Steve teases.

“Steve!” Dustin grins.

“That’s me,” Steve smiles at hearing his kid happy. “How are you all doing? Nothing bad happened, right? Why are you at the Byers house?”

“Dude,” somehow that makes Steve cringe, “we’re having an epic sleepover. You’re really missing out, the new Byers house has a fire pit. But also we’re in boring Hawkins, I wanna know about your adventures.”

“Well, we went to a museum and a bookstore today, yesterday we just dicked around. We had a burger adventure,” Steve shrugs, not wanting to out his friends. “Most of our adventures are not for your young ears, however.”

“Gross, man,” Dustin exclaims. “I don’t wanna hear about your sex life unless it’s with Robin. I still don’t get why you two won’t just date.”

“Dustin, I’m not starting this with you again,” Steve sighs. “We’re friends. Do you know what a friend is?”

“Of course I know what a friend is, Steve. You two just mesh so well.”

“We also ‘mesh well.’”

“Iew.”

“Exactly. Now shut up about it and give me Joyce,” he rolls his eyes.

Dustin complains a little more, but eventually calls out Joyce and tells her that it’s Steve, who wants to talk to her. She presumably takes the phone, because soon he hears her say: “Hey, Steve. How are you, dear?”

“Hi, Joyce, hopefully I’m not interrupting something,” Steve greets her pleasantly. If there is one thing he’s good at, it’s getting parents of other people to like him. It’s just his own that he never figured out how to please.

“Not at all,” Joyce assures him. “Social call or did you want to ask something?”

“Just checking in,” Steve tells her, suddenly blushing. “It’s a bit stupid, but I just wanted to make sure nothing bad was happening to you and the kids. I’m not used to not seeing them for more than a day.”

“It’s not stupid,” Joyce assures him in a kind voice. “God knows how often I check in with Will after everything.”

The reassurance is nice and settles something in his heart. He smiles. “Thanks. Are all the kids alright? Dustin mentioned a sleepover. They’re not too much trouble, are they?”

“Don’t worry, they’re their usual amount of trouble,” Joyce laughs. “I don’t know how you always do it, driving the kids around everyday. I love them, but I’d go crazy.”

“Ah, they grow on you,” Steve deflects, not wanting to tell her how he prefers their lively bickering over the deathly silence that hangs over his house, making it feel like a tomb.

“Is your trip good?” she asks. “The break you needed?”

“It’s great,” Steve tells her, glancing to where Robin is reading her old book, because she wants her new book, while Eddie sketches as he hums a random tune. “We’re having fun, you know. Not all things we can tell the kids, but nothing bad. Feels nice to be a stupid teen for a bit.”

“You guys earned it,” Joyce says. “And I trust you all not to do anything too stupid.”

Steve remembers Madame Tucker’s steady hands on his face, the makeup still on there. The realizations about himself he’s semi-ignoring. The culture they’re emerging themselves in and what the general population thinks about it. He wonders if Joyce will classify this as stupid, or if she’d be okay with it all.

Thickly, he swallows and tries a smile, though he’s unsure if it’s successful, as he replies: “We won’t.”

“That’s good to hear,” Joyce tells him and in the background he hears some yelling. “Oh, I have to go, sorry. Good to check in.”

“Yeah, no, of course, tell them I said hi,” Steve replies.

“I will, you too!” Joyce says goodbye and they hang up.

Steve turns to Robin and Eddie and says: “The kids are doing fine, they’re having a sleep over at the new Byers house. Joyce says hi, by the way.”

“Well, I, for one, don’t mind the babysitting break, those twerps can get on your nerves. But I’m glad they’re doing okay,” Eddie shrugs, then peels himself off the bed. “Now, I am going to get changed. If I’m going to a drag show, I’m doing it right.”

“What is right in this context?” Robin asks the question Steve wants to ask as well.

Eddie turns around dramatically, lit from behind in the bathroom door as he strikes a pose and says: “Flamboyantly.”

Robin giggles at his antics and Steve smiles.

The three of them get ready after that. Eddie keeps true to his word of flamboyant, in his own way. He is wearing a white wife-beater that’s cut so low you can almost see his nipples, his leather jacket and leather pants filled with chains. There are also an abundance of chains around his neck and his fingers are filled with rings.

While Robin has decided to lean more masculine, practically wearing a full suit, even digging out a small top hat, which she bought on their first day in town. She looks good and Steve makes sure to tell her that, Eddie wolf whistling.

Steve himself isn’t sure what he wants to wear. This is the chance to do something daring, see how he likes it, but it’s also scary. He has pulled out his nicest pants that make his ass look great, but all his shirt options are bad and it’s too hot for a sweater.

He sighs and goes over his shirts again. It’s stupid, he tries to tell himself, there’s nothing wrong with the shirts and you shouldn’t have to dress up for a fucking show. But the shirts all just stare back at him with their straight collars and stupid buttons.

Just when he’s about to give in and pick one, Eddie is at his side, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looks back and Eddie looks both determined and unsure as he asks: “Do you trust me to fuck up one of your shirts? You don’t have to wear it if you hate it.”

While fucking up a shirt doesn’t sound promising, Steve just wants something else to wear. So he gestures to the pile and says: “Go nuts, right now I hate all of them anyway.”

Eddie doesn’t comment on his, lets be honest here, whine and just plucks a shirt from the pile. It’s one he doesn’t wear often and he’s sure he’ll appreciate it later as Eddie digs out a pair of scissors to go to town on the shirt.

“How insecure are you about your scars?” Eddie asks, when he’s done with the sleeves and collar.

“Why?”

“I wanna crop it – it’s all the rage, you know – but I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable,” Eddie answers.

“Oh, that’s nice. Thank you,” Steve says, surprised by the caring words and realizing why Eddie is probably wearing a deep neckline, instead of a crop top himself. “I’m good with my scars. They’re not too bad.”

“Nah, everyone has their story,” Eddie agrees, before cutting off the bottom of the shirt, before turning to the rest of it. Once he seems satisfied, he holds it up with a flourish. “Tadaa!”

The shirt now has shorter sleeves with a slight slit down the middle, the whole collar is gone too alongside the few buttons in the front, giving it a V-neckline, and it’s cropped. All in all, it’s nothing like anything Steve is used to wearing, but he can’t wait to try it on.

“Thanks,” he smiles and takes it from Eddie, handling the shirt with care, as if it’s fragile or precious.

He retreats to the bathroom, first wanting to see for himself before Robin or Eddie saw. Maybe to give himself a way out, too.

So, he doesn’t face the mirror as he slides his old shirt over his head, inspecting his chest. The scarring could have been much worse and all he really lost were his abs and his pecs. He mourns for his pecs mostly, but he can live without the rest. Alright, so confident about that, cool, good to know he hadn’t been lying to Eddie just then.

Cautiously, he slides on the shirt, closing his eyes as he turns around, even if it makes him feel a little stupid. He takes a deep breath, heart beating loudly in his throat, then he opens his eyes.

The shirt looks good on him. Without it being tucked into his shirt, it’s wide enough to flare out, giving him a different silhouette. The slit in the sleeves ensures that he looks softer while still having his arms on display. It’s nice.

In the tiny bathroom is also his toiletries bag, within which he had shoved the mascara and the lip gloss. While eating the burger, he’d lost most of the gloss and he knows he can reapply it now if he wants to.

Still, he hesitates. It’s probably weird, right? It’s weird for him to put it on. He knows Madame Tucker thought he would want to and he can’t deny he liked how it looked. But he knows he shouldn’t. What would his father do to him if he ever saw? It isn’t who he’s supposed to be, so he should just throw both items away and chalk it up to wanting to be nice.

‘You can do whatever you want and be whoever you want with whomever you want’

Brook’s words ring through his head again and he feels sad that he washed off her number. She was nice and confident. He likes that. He’s also a bit jealous.

He realizes then that he can be her right now. Confident. Being who he wants. So, he takes out the lip gloss with shaking hands. He has no clue what he’s doing and by the time he’s done, he needs to wipe around his mouth with a piece of toilet paper. But he did it. His lips have that gloss again and it makes him smile at his reflection.

“Hey, Stevie, did you OD in there?” Robin asks with a tentative knock.

Apparently he’s been in there for longer than he realized and he feels bad about worrying Robin, but he is also happy with how he looks. He hasn’t been this happy with himself since that first time Robin gave him a comfortable sweater. He doesn’t even mind the glasses anymore.

“I’m good,” he grins as he throws open the door, deciding to ride this high and just step out before he can overthink it.

Eddie wolf whistles for him, just like he’d done for Robin, while Robin gives him a wide grin as she says: “You look amazing, dingus!” and hugs him closely.

“Yeah?” he asks shyly.

“Course, we wouldn't lie to you, sweetheart” Eddie assures him, slinging an arm over his shoulder.

“Uh-huh,” Robin agrees. “I’ve always told you when you look like shit,” and that’s not a lie, she can be brutally honest. No filter, you know.

“Thanks,” he grins, shaking the feeling off. He doesn’t want to talk about it yet and they seem content to put his mind at ease without demanding explanations of his inner workings that he himself doesn’t really grasp either. “Lets get this show on the road.”

The club Madame Tucker is preforming at is slightly different from the one they were at the day before. It’s a bit smaller and has a podium in the back. It feels more homey, more intimate, but in the end still like a club.

Steve is driving again, after the Russians, he doesn’t care much for getting wasted anymore, so he lets Eddie and Robin enjoy themselves.

Though, unlike last time, he doesn’t stay on the sidelines. He isn’t really looking to get laid or anything, or flirt for that matter. He’s too confused about himself right now to want to try anything new, but he wants to be part of it anyway.

So, he dances with Robin and Eddie again, much like they had done before. It’s silly and fun and this time he isn’t busy with thinking about how he might look to others.

Then the music shuts off and a drag queen comes onto the stage. She is breathtaking. She doesn’t necessarily look like a woman, more an exaggerated idea, or an art piece about what society thinks a woman is. But Steve is mesmerized.

He stands in the crowd, watching with big eyes as she introduces the night and talks about the lovely performances they’re gonna see. She makes dirty jokes, funny comments and is overall very charming as she explains about tipping for the newbies in the crowd.

Steve loves her.

The whole evening is filled with a wide variety of drag performers. There are drag kings in exaggerated top hats with mustaches made of gems, who perform numbers from gentlemen in musicals, hopping around the stage as they go. It’s both a mockery of what expected of a man and a celebration of it. It tugs at Steve in a different, but good way.

However, it’s the drag queens that make his night. They have pretty furls, big wigs, bold makeup, exaggerated shapes and huge presence. They prance around the stage like they’re the great pop women of their age.

They move their hips, wink over their shoulders. They interact with the crowd flirtily and shake their padded asses, while also performing athletic marvels with splits and flips. He can’t deny the masculine shoulders and arms on them, but the way they act makes that it falls away in the grant picture.

He can’t tear his eyes away. He knows he must look a little stupid, because he stands near the stage with wide eyes as he stares up. But he can hold out the ones he made sure to pick up to tip the drag artists and makes sure to hold them out when they come to collect, because he might not have the most after his parents made him responsible, but he knows he has enough.

When Madame Tucker takes the stage, he almost doesn’t recognize her. However, the beehive wig he saw her work on is pretty recognizable. Then she introduces herself with a joke, before I Will Survive starts playing.

And as she preforms, she looks like a true queen. At least in Steve’s opinion. She practically stomps over the stage, lip syncing to the song with defiant rage and triumph. She owns the stage, the crowd cheering like she’s a god.

The fat on her cheeks is harshly contoured to carve out feminine cheeks and her brows are thin and high. Her lips are a bright red that enhance every word as she spits it out. Her movements are large, the costume intensifying each dramatic moment.

When she plants down her heeled foot, her thighs jiggle. When she turns around, her boobs move with her. When she throws back her head, her wig stays in place though the big hive shifts precariously.

She is beautiful.

Steve both wants to be her and part of her crowd. He wants to be part of the energy that is feeding her, wants to catch her attention and have her smirk and wink at him. But he also want to know what it’s like to be so uniquely herself, to stand there with confidence and an innate understanding of who you are and where you came from.

In the end, he gets part of his wish, because she does spot him in the crowd. She looking up at the heavens as she scream-lip syncs: “Oh no, not I, I will survive!” then looks down and spots him, her lips curling into a smile as she continues: “Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive.”

She walks towards him, leaning over as he holds up money. It’s the most he’s given all night, but he knows not a million dollars can return the favor, so he doesn’t care. As she leans close, she cups his cheek, the crowd cheering, as she continues: “I’ve got all my life to live. And I’ve got all my love to give and I’ll survive.”

The money is taken out of his hand and seductively put into her bra, before she’s pulling away and dramatically going: “I will survive!”

If Steve hadn’t stopped believing the second time he was dragged into this Upside Down bullshit, with the kids, who shouldn't have to face this, the experience would have made him holy, he’s sure of that.

Steve has no clue what Robin or Eddie did during the performances, just that they were somewhere near him. Robin later talks a bit about making out with a hot girl and how she is so correct about girls being the best option, while Eddie mentions he’s been hanging around him. Yet, everyone has disappeared for him.

He is not alone, but part of something more. Something that he melts into until it feels he’s by himself.

They spill out the club in a daze. Or maybe that’s just Steve. Robin is giggly from the alcohol, but you won’t know that Eddie is unfit to drive with his tolerance. So, Eddie is carting Robin along, indulging her weird rambles, while Steve’s mind is on the show, grin splitting his face as he practically drifts into the car.

During the drive he comes back enough to hear Robin go: “I mean, I think I wouldn't like being a building, you know. I hate sitting still and I could never shut up. Not to mention that I’d hate the idea of people walking around inside me.”

“Even if they’re hot girls,” Eddie teases.

“Oh shut up,” Robin blushes.

Steve laughs at her, before adding his own two cents: “At least as a building you’d be sturdy. I don’t know how you’re not knocked over every time the wind blows.”

“Har, har,” Robin pouts. “I am the pinnacle of staying upright.”

Now both Steve and Eddie send her unimpressed and disbelieving looks. Just today Robin had nearly fallen over multiple times in the museum. It seems like with the looks, she realizes what she’s just said, because she snorts then laughs: “Yeah, okay, I deserved that.”

They pull up to the hotel and Robin can walk a bit more normally again. But since they have established that’s not the best, Steve hovers around her just in case.

Inside, he makes sure she drinks some water and changes her clothes before crashing, since he knows she hates sleeping in her day clothes. She pouts and complains and Steve rolls his eyes before helping her undress. He pulls a shirt over her head and reaches under to unclasp her bra, sliding it off, before helping her into the sleeves.

He practically carries her to the bathroom where she pees, before Steve brushes her teeth. She is already falling asleep as he does. So, he carries her back and tucks her in.

Sleepily, she mumbles: “You’re my hero, Stevie,” planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek, before falling on her pillows and drifting to sleep.

Eddie snorts: “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re dating. I don’t know why you two are so confused about why Dustin thinks it.”

“Hm,” Steve shrugs. “It’s just that we can never imagine dating. Like, I want her in my life forever and I’d do anything for her, but dating? Nah. So, it’s strange to see things not meant as romantic be seen as such. Plus, Henderson can be annoying about it.”

“You got that right,” Eddie smirks. “Anyway, since it’s not romantic, would I be able to entice you to give me the drinking babysitter special treatment?”

Steve raises a brow, then asks: “It’s not that believable with your tolerance.”

“Ahww, don’t you love me, Stevie?” Eddie pouts.

And the truth is, Steve does love Eddie. He’s not yet sure how he loves Eddie, but he knows the other has become very important to him. They went through a lot of shit together, they recovered together and now Eddie is being so nice about him discovering… things about himself. So yeah, he loves the guy.

So, he gets up and hands Eddie a bottle of water, before kneeling down and undoing his laces. Eddie stares at him for a few seconds, before swallowing and quickly uncapping the bottle, looking anywhere but Steve as he drinks.

Eddie has already chucked off his jacket, but his pants are still very much skinny and on. Steve gives them a calculating look and says: “I don’t know if I can get those off. Hell, I don’t even know how you got those on.”

“Very unflattering jumping,” Eddie grins, before sobering up. “I might actually need the help in getting them off. Wait a sec.”

He undoes his own belt and shimmies them down until they’re under his ass, before sitting down and holding up a leg, asking: “Can you pull?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugs, before getting to work.

It takes some effort, but eventually they get the pants off. Eddie thanks Steve, who replies: “Don’t worry about it. I’m even more impressed about getting them on, now.”

They both laugh. Then Steve throws a shirt in Eddie’s direction and changes in pajamas himself, before they brush their teeth together. By the time Steve has peed, Eddie is already under the sheets, so Steve slides in and turns off the light.

Next to him, Eddie shuffles around again. His eyes are closed and his breathing even, so Steve assumes he’s asleep. It’s calming background noise and he falls asleep listening to it.

However, the universe in done extending its kindness towards Steve and the night is not peaceful for him. Nightmares return with a vengeance. He can’t save his kids from dying, hears Robin scream and sees Eddie bleed out.

When he wakes up, it’s with a start. Flying upright as he heaves deep breath, barely stifling a scream. He desperately tries to breathe and convince himself it was only a dream.

Suddenly there’s hand on his back and before he can react, he hears Eddie’s voice: “It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re alright. It was just a dream. It’s okay. Just breathe for me. In,” he inhales, “and out,” he exhales. Eddie keeps repeating it, intertwined with soothing comments as he rubs Steve’s back.

The commotion must have woken Robin, because she stumbles over to them and takes one look as Steve, before sighing: “Oh, dingus.”

She also knows how often he struggles with nightmares and how much it can fuck him up. So, she grabs one of his hand and puts in on her chest so that he can feel her heartbeat and how she breathes. Her presence warm next to him as she sits on the other side.

They keep sitting like that until Steve isn’t gasping for breath and his tears have dried. Now that’s over, he feels embarrassed about it, usually managing to keep the two asleep if this happens when they’re near.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Don’t be a dingus,” Robin scolds him. “You’re always fine with us waking you up if we had a nightmare, so don’t you dare think we would find you an inconvenience if you do the same.”

Eddie immediately backs her up. “You deserve to have people to lean on, princess. We’re here for you.”

“Thank you,” Steve chokes out, overwhelmed with emotion. He takes another deep breath and pushes it away as he tries to get up, saying: “I’ll let you get back to sleep now. I’m good. Thank you.”

“And what are you going to do?” Eddie asks with a quirked brow.

“Uhm, I- I don’t know. Maybe a read or something?” Steve shrugs, knowing that his plan is to just sit and wait until the sun comes up, maybe sneak a cigarette even though Robin hates it when he smokes.

“No, na-ah, not happening,” Eddie shakes his head. “If you wanna clean up a bit that’s fine, but you’re coming right back to bed, sweetheart.”

“What? No.” Steve frowns. “I can’t go to sleep again. It’s fine, I swear.”

“I said nothing about sleep, princess,” Eddie grins as if he’s won something. “I just won’t let you mope all night, so you’re gonna come back to bed and me and Robbie here are going to cuddle the shit out of you. No sleeping required if you don’t want to.”

Steve looks uncertain at them, but Robin is picking Eddie’s side as she nods frantically. “Come on, dingus,” she whines. “You never say no to cuddles.”

And she’s not wrong, years of not getting much affection means he now gladly leans in whenever it’s offered. But he doesn’t just want to give in, so he says: “I thought it was too hot to share a bed, remember?”

“The words of a fool,” she smirks. “Now come cuddle!”

So, he abandons his escape to the bathroom and gets back on the bed. Tentatively sitting down, not sure what the plan is.

Eddie has much less hesitation. He just grabs Steve and drags him down, forcefully spooning him from behind. For a moment, Steve is stiff as a board. Then he realizes it feels kind of nice. Like someone literally has his back, protecting him. It’s new, but comforting, so he relaxes.

Robin clambers under the sheets as well, taking Steve’s hands into her own as she faces him, sharing his pillow. Her leg is thrown over both of theirs, all of them tangling together.

Steve is determined not to sleep again, afraid of what his mind will show him. However, it’s hard to keep his eyes open. Surrounded by the warmth of his friends, safely cocooned between them, is one of the most comfortable places he has ever been.

As is customary for him, he looses the fight and falls asleep.

A/N:

Not me coming face to face with the fact that I don’t have many words for my own experiences even as I try to project them onto characters. All I have is good gender vibes with certain things, yet that will not stop me from making it y’alls problem <3

Also, there is a kind of love in staying silent, especially about someone figuring themselves out, and I’ll stand by that. It’s deeply personal and while support is great, sometimes you’re not ready to be pushed and that’s okay. Taking your time is okay.

Confession, I have not yet been to a drag show. I really want to, but I’m anti-social and don’t have many friends to go with me lmao

Btw, I am an agender lesbian, but I am a little bit in love with Madame Tucker, ngl. I hope my writing conveyed how much I love my OC drag queen, bc I will lay down my life for her

#rr writing #tw: nightmares #tw: panic attack #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie lives au #eddie munson #eddie munson & steve harrington & robin buckley #robin buckley #platonic steddie #platonic stobin #steddie #stranger things fic #Life Is Ours We Live It Our Way #Life Is Ours We Live It Our Way Chapter 4 #OCs

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