#and computer = work/writing

[whatkindofnameisella]

can you believe that we have fanfiction. that we have websites dedicated to fanfiction. that there is a place that you can go and read tens, hundreds, thousands and thousands of pieces of writing that strangers have made. people who are not "writers". people who come home at the end of the day and have feelings and say, i am going to put that into words. i am going to share those words. short, long, sweet, sad, horny, funny, wonderful words. we are all just human and we all love to make and remake and share that with others. can you believe that.

[soapcloth]

Corporate office worker!Ghost. The big guy huddled over the computer in the cubicle next to you muttering to himself, fingers too big to reasonably use the allotted keyboard, always in and out of HR because every time he opens his mouth at the water cooler he’s spouting a new morbid joke, but his work speed is unmatched and he’s incredibly competent so they can’t get rid of him— you’re almost sure he’s losing his mind and every lunch he’s staring at you across the break room through hollow, tired eyes like you’re the thing he really wants to eat.

[edwardshundredyearoldspunk]

I love writing so much. what I hate is starting to write

[sp0o0kylights]

"Valentines Day is a capitalistic scam made to sell chocolate and flowers!" Eddie Munson bellowed, leaping to the top of a cafeteria table not even ten minutes into lunch. 

"Do you think he was born like this, or just dropped on his head as a baby?" Heather asked, rolling her eyes as the super senior began waving his arms around, getting way too into  his annual “anti-valentines day” rant. 

Steve, who'd tuned out the dramatics in favor of trying to figure out how he could ditch school, only heard her because she’d begun running her foot up his leg.

Directly in front of Patrick.

As if half the school didn’t know he planned on asking her out after school. 

Long over being a part of these kinds of games, Steve kicked out, forcing Heather’s leg off his. 

He did it harder than he intended and immediately winced, as  if he hadn’t meant to do it at all. Aimed a sad little look at her, softening his eyes in the way he knew ladies loved while murmuring a quiet "sorry.” 

A pudding cup was offered as an additional apology--which Heather, thankfully, accepted. 

Crisis averted, Steve used the movement of handing the cup over to get his legs well out of Heather's range. He had other things to think about today, and getting drawn into whatever drama Heather was trying to brew wasn’t on the list. 

Particularly given the basketball team as a unit had started snubbing him out. 

"Newsflash ladies! Your man isn't taking you to some shitty restaurant because he loves you, he's doing it because he hopes you'll give it to him in your car!" Munson continued, voice growing impossibly louder. 

A crude gesture followed, involving hip thrusts and hand jabs.

 Several of the cheerleaders shot him disgusted looks as he did it. 

"Definitely dropped on his head." Carol said, glaring at Munson as his little group of freaks and geeks cheered him. "More than once." 

Steve hummed an agreement, more on automatic than from actually listening. He knew how to look like he was paying attention, even if his head was deep in possible escape plans. 

If he dipped at the last minute to the bathroom on the way to fifth period, Tommy wouldn't have time to stop him and he could make a break for his car…

That just left making up a plausible enough excuse as to why thee Steve Harrington, whose single status was the current hot topic of the school, left school early on Valentines Day. 

("Candy, sex, the overwhelming affection of all the ladies." Tommy drawled out that morning, practically preening. "Valentine's Day is the best holiday man. Just look at all this!"  

He waved a hand at his locker, which was absolutely covered in paper hearts. 

"The rally squad put hearts on the lockers of everyone on the basketball team, Tommy." Carol argued, rolling her eyes. "Steve’s is practically buried in them.”

Tommy opened his mouth to respond, no doubt with something else teasing and rude, but Carol’s elbow caught him in the gut first. 

“If you keep acting like this you're not getting any sex." She warned. 

"Aww baby, don't be like that. You know you're the only one for me." Tommy teased, with a wink that prompted Carol to smack him on the shoulder.

Laughing, he added: "Besides we can't fight or we'll miss our favorite game. Which poor gal thinks this year is the year Steve will take her out on a date!"

Carol allowed Tommy to put an arm over her shoulder, the two of them turning knowing grins on their friend as a singular unit. 

Even if Steve hadn’t felt like their friend in a hot minute. 

Not in the way he used to. 

"I do love watching them stutter through their little confessions.” Carol admitted, like this wasn’t something they’d loved doing since middle school. “I wonder if anyone will ever top Cindy Komer." 

Steve almost wasn't fast enough to cover his wince--that particular incident had been painful for him and Cindy. 

Steve still had no idea what he'd said to make the then-freshman cry. 

He thought he'd been nice about turning her down, but judging by Carol constantly quoting what he'd said, Steve had a feeling he'd accidentally been an asshole again.

Not that anyone ever thought it was accidental. 

“Steve? Hel~lo? Are you listening?” Carol said, snapping to get his attention and God did Steve hate that.

Never realized just how much until Nancy but after she’d pointed out that Carol treated him and Tommy both like her dogs, well. 

It was hard not to notice--and be a bit resentful. 

“God you keep doing this, you’re turning into such a space case.” Carol continued, the edge back in her voice. The same one she’d been using for a while, like Steve was on her last nerve. “Please tell me you’re not still mooning over Nancy fucking Wheeler.” 

“No.” He snapped, only to know instantly that was the wrong move, and try to fix it before Carol blew up. “No--I’ve just already had to fend someone off today. Like first thing--I was barely out of my car.”

There, that should keep Carol and Tommy both off his back for being “angry” and it wasn’t even a lie. He really had been asked out earlier, though the girl had been gracious about his rejection.  

Of course, this kind of instant redirection came with a price--and in this case, it was being absolutely hounded for more information. 

“Oh shit who!? Was it that Buckley girl?” Carol perked up immediately, like a hunting dog scenting prey. “I swear she stares holes in your head, she’s so weird…” )  

"This isn't about romance! It's about showing who has the most cash, gets the most sex! It's a pathetic social ritual you're all falling for!” Munson yelled, jolting Steve back into the present.  “I bet none of you even enjoy it!” 

"Tell that to all the girls Steve’s dated!” One of the younger basketball guys hollered, prompting a wave of laughter from the rest of the cafeteria. “They seem to enjoy it plenty!”

Steve couldn’t see who had said it, and should have felt the normal wave of smug warmth that the team had his back.  

Except his team had already proven they didn’t. 

Were in fact, siding more and more with Hargrove, just as Tommy was. 

They were rapidly approaching a watershed moment. Steve could feel it, the same way he’d always been able to tell when a crowd was about to turn.

He was losing, but was still on top of Hawkins social spaces enough, had caught it early enough, that he could turn everyone’s favor--if he wanted. 

Emphasis on ‘if.’ 

Munson spun to face his table, hair whipping to smack him in the face. The guy had clearly been trying to grow it out, but right now he looked like one of those poodles Carol's mom loved so much. 

So said Carol, anyway. 

"You sure about that?" Munson challenged, a crazed grin breaking across his face. "Rumor has it King Steve lost his groove ever since Wheeler dumped him!" 

Steve grimaced, though he was secretly thankful Munson went with "dumped" instead of "cheated on" (or any of the other vile words Billy had flung around, spreading across the school in the sick, crawling way rumors moved. 

Hargrove had been positively brutal about the whole Jonathan and Nancy thing, and the only reason he wasn't here now to spin this whole situation against Steve was because the guy always vanished at lunch.)

Tommy's face morphed into an affronted snarl, hands slapping down on the table. He turned expectantly to Steve, waiting for "The King" to get up and "handle" Munson.

Like Steve even cared about this dumb high school shit anymore. 

It took him a moment to realize Steve wasn’t planning on doing anything. Was in fact, going to remain perfectly quiet, other than an eyeroll and half-assed middle finger in Munson’s direction. 

Tommy let out a disgusted scoff in his direction and then decided to handle things himself. 

(Like that had ever been a good idea.)

“Shut up, Freak. The only game you have is in the prison showers.” He snapped, half rising from the table. “Isn’t that why you keep your hair long? So all the boys will actually fuck you?!” 

Whistles and yells lit the air, though Steve didn’t miss how the girls at the table looked taken aback at the sheer vitriol in Tommy’s voice. 

Even Carol looked startled, eyes sliding to meet Steve’s as if to confirm she hadn’t just imagined it. 

The three of them had always been good at this kind of mindless high school banter, but this over the top, crude shit? 

It wasn’t Tommy’s style.

It was Hargrove’s.

(That was its own growing issue. 

The way Tommy was gravitating towards Billy. 

How Carol kept expecting Steve to act like he used to. 

That she blamed his “outbursts” on Nancy, snidely mentioning that Steve had better have learned his lesson about “changing his personality for pussy.” 

Even now Steve knew they were only defending him because Munson was the one saying it.) 

“I didn’t realize Harrington still had his attack dog!” 

Munson put a hand against his heart as though injured, staggering dramatically backwards. 

“I thought you were too busy putting your tongue up Hargrove’s ass to bark at people!” 

Tommy immediately fired back, letting loose an uninspired string of curse words and something about Eddie being queer again. Steve didn’t hear the specifics--didn’t care to hear it, even as things started to spiral out of control. 

All he wanted to do was go home. 

Ideally before Billy got back from lunch and decided to make a spectacle himself, because Steve could feel that coming just as he could everything else. 

He was running out of time to come up with an excuse to get out of here without making a production out of it, and Munson wasn’t someone he wanted to piss off today, given he’d half hoped to buy weed off the guy before he ditched.

…Which was looking more and more unlikely given Tommy had just screeched some insult that had put Munson’s sights back on Steve. 

“You sure? Cause Harrington looks like he’s just gonna sit there and take it, just like he takes everything Hargrove and Wheeler and anyone else throws at him.”

He leered, leaning forward as if to see into Steve’s very soul. 

“I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but our beloved King here hasn’t exactly been defending his crown. If anything, he’s abandoned it.” 

The world stopped. 

This was the first time someone actually called him out on the fact that he often let whatever crap Billy spewed go. That Nancy and him had a few awkward encounters publicly, with at least one of them starting a rumor that she’d told Steve to fuck off. 

(She hadn’t of course, but Carol had stopped running damage control, and Steve was feeling the effects of her ire.) 

Silence echoed, and Steve realized with a dawning sort of horror, that Munson was waiting for a response from him. 

Just as the entire cafeteria was. 

The catalyst was here, brought on early by one Edward Munson. 

With a startling amount of clarity, Steve realized he was done. 

With his so called friends, with  the girls who’d tried corning him all morning, with Hargrove and just--everything. 

He was over it. 

If Billy wanted the crown so bad he could fucking have it. 

(If Tommy wanted to pretend he was tougher than he was by mimicking the dick, then he could have that too.) 

“This is stupid.” Steve announced, dropping the masks he so carefully wore. The ones he kept having to fix, because the Upside Down and its related demons (human and non) kept taking chunks out of it. 

He stood, feeling the weight of the room press down on him as he faced them all down. 

“Yeah--!” Tommy started to pile on, seeming to think Steve was about to unleash hell, and got the surprise of a lifetime when Steve turned and jammed a finger in his face.

“Shut up.” He snapped. 

Knew instantly he only got away with it by the fact that he’d caught everyone off guard.  

King Steve did a lot of things, but he rarely blew up. 

“This is stupid.” He reiterated, voice booming across the lunch room, “ You wanna fight? Fine, but leave me out of it.”  

“The King doesn’t want to play? Why I never thought we’d see the day!” Munson clucked his tongue, and without missing a beat Steve turned to him. 

 “For someone who is always screaming about nonconformity, you sure are happy to attack anyone who doesn’t do what you want.”

Steve’s voice was loud, but he wasn’t screaming. Wasn’t yelling or throwing his arms around.

He didn’t need to. Had never needed to. 

“I heard you going off on that guy whose lunch you're standing on yesterday, because he wanted to watch the Colts play.” Steve continued, voice cold. “Half of your friends are terrified of you, because you’ll scream at them just like you accuse us of doing--and let’s be real here, Munson, you do it more.”

In a dramatic move that absolutely, 100% came from Dustin and his theatrics, Steve shrugged his letterman jacket off and bunched it into a ball. 

“You might as well crown yourself King, because you’re the exact same as the rest of us. Here--you can start with this.”  

Cocking back an arm, Steve let the jacket fly. Watched with everyone else as it  landed neatly right at Eddie’s feet. 

Shell shocked, Munson’s eyes drifted from Steve down to the letterman jacket and back. They were massive, those stupid eyes of his, but at least it meant Steve could see the realization wash over the guy in real time. 

Steve should have felt smug about it. His past self would have.

Presently? 

He just felt tired. 

“You’re welcome to jam it up your ass.” He finished, before giving his own sarcastic half bow to the room.  

The cafeteria was dead silent. Not a fork was scraped, or a loud piece of chip chewed. All eyes were on Steve, some waiting to see if Eddie would let him have the last word, others just  shocked to see Steve lose his shit in front of them. 

Idiot he was, he tried to rally anyway. 

Even Tommy, who’d partly stood up, hands pressed against the lunch table looked shocked.

“What the fuck Steve!?” He sputtered, and it wasn’t long before half the basketball team was muttering similar remarks. 

They were ignored. 

Whispers ripped across the room when Steve turned on his heel, striding towards the exit and making it clear things were over, but Tommy didn’t give up. 

“Fuck you Harrington!” He hurled at his back, Carol now standing and placing a restraining hand on his arm.  “You’re not fucking better than any of us!” 

Steve didn’t even look back. 

"That's my point Tommy." Steve said, loud enough to be heard. "No one is better than anyone else. You lot are all just buying into your own bullshit.” 

Then he was slamming through the doors, and out into the sunlight. 

xXx

He didn’t want to go home.

Not anymore, which was ironic in a way that made Steve’s face screw up in a grimace.  

Here he’d been dying to go to his stupid house all day, and now, after losing his shit and undoubtedly, the last of his social standing, he just didn’t feel like being by himself.

All alone, in a house too big for him, full of nothing but dark corners and a phone that never rang. 

So instead, he wandered, reminiscing on how Valentine's Day used to be his favorite day of the year. 

Steve loved the gesture of it all--the romance, the wooing. The butterflies floating in one's stomach, mixing with fear of rejection and a burning kind of hope towards starting something new. 

Of course, Steve also had always had a girl in mind, when he celebrated. Now, after Nancy…

He did not.

It felt weird to go to Skull Rock--the place he himself had made into Hawkins hottest makeout spots. Likewise all the local restaurants were off limits--too many adults knew how much he loved the holiday. 

Steve didn’t want to face that. The expectations, the knowing winks that would slide into uncomfortable frowns. Any possible advice given wouldn’t be appreciated, and the last thing Steve wanted was to get the “everyone has an off season, son” speech. 

So he’d stayed away from his usual haunts. Explored some storefronts instead, the Beamer parked in front of Family Video as he wandered. 

Had an entirely too peaceful two hours, which of course, meant he had to bump into someone.

At least, Steve thought dully, whole body tensing in preparation, it was Munson. 

Not Hargrove, or Tommy, or hell--the children, demanding he help them fight some other fucked up creature the government had accidentally summoned. 

“Hey Harrington.” Munson said, and it took a moment for Steve to realize the guy was embarrassed. “I uh, I need to talk to you.” 

Steve just stared at him.

“If you couldn’t tell from earlier,” He warned, “I’m a little done talking for today.” 

Or any day, for the foreseeable future. 

“Yeah no--I, I got that.  I--okay.” Eddie stopped rocking on his heels, before giving his entire body a shake, like the guys sometimes did while prepping for a game. “Hear me out, and then you can deck me or leave or whatever makes you feel better.” 

“I’m not going to deck you.” Steve said, exasperated and frazzled and not wanting to do this whole song and dance a second time. 

Not that it mattered, because Munson had already launched right into whatever it was he needed to say. 

“There’s this book right? My Uncle got it for me. It’s a fantasy book all about this big battle and there’s these wizards in it, and--” He stopped himself, shaking out his hands.

Like he realized he was rambling and needed the movement to get himself back on track. 

“I always--I guess I saw myself as a Gandalf kinda guy? Like I was this shepherd herding these lost sheep. A person who intimately knew all the dark forces of the world and could be a shield for them. Do not pass and all that.” 

He chuckled, but it was weak, and he killed it almost immediately. 

“...Okay?” Steve said, knowing he was supposed to say something here, even if he had no idea what. 

Maybe something about how Gandalf the Grey wasn’t exactly a shepard given he’d led the hobbits straight into Mordor, but saying that meant admitting Steve knew what Lord of the Rings was, which wasn’t a conversation he felt like getting into. 

Particularly not because he’d only read the damn things after losing a bet to Dustin and Mike both. 

Munson nodded, as if acknowledgement was all he needed. 

 “I thought that’s what I was doing. I wasn’t and I didn’t realize I wasn’t until you pointed it out. You shouldn’t have had to point it out. You shouldn’t have had to say any of what you did.” He rushed to add, oddly sincere. 

"Is this…" Steve might be confused but catching on, an uptick at the corners of his mouth as the tiniest spark of amusement leaked through. "an apology? Are you trying to apologize right now?"

Eddie groaned, flinging his head back. "No!” 

Then immediately; 

“Actually yes, but--”  

Which caught Steve off guard enough that he laughed, and had to hide it with a cough. 

“I am sorry, man. I shouldn’t have said that shit about you, especially not about you and Wheeler. It's more than that though.” Munson swallowed, before squaring his shoulders. “It’s that you were right." 

“I was right?” Steve repeated dumbly, because fuck, he couldn’t believe it either. 

Not that Munson heard him. Eddie always had been hard to stop once he started, and Steve had been in enough classes with the guy to know the train had left the station. 

"I did yell at Jeff because he wanted to watch that stupid football game.” He began, and Steve got a front row seat to watch as one Eddie Munson word vomited his way through a myriad of emotions. 

“I fuckin’ lost it on Grant because he missed band practice to drive his sister to some thing. Gareth looked like I was going to hit him when I asked if I had really been that bad--same exact look he gave Hagan and those other assholes that cornered him in the bathroom two weeks ago!” 

“Tommy did what?” 

Steve was promptly ignored. 

(Or more likely, Eddie simply didn’t hear him, too lost in his own voice to realize Steve had said something.) 

There were a lot of mentions of the Gandalf guy. Where Eddie thought he’d gone wrong, and even something about a glowing eye thing that had Steve a little concerned until he realized Munson was talking about Sauron (and also made Steve realize that he’d been pronouncing Sauron in his head wrong, oops.) 

“I called up this friend of mine who graduated. She’s always been no nonsense, so I asked her for her advice.” Munson said, finally seeming to slow down a little. “She told me I might as well eat my own doctrine because I sure wasn’t living by it, and that if I wanted to fix it then I should start by apologizing. To everyone but--to you, first.” 

Eddie took a step back, winging out his hands as if to present himself. 

“So here I am. Apologizing.” 

A pause wherein neither of them did a thing, which caused him to awkwardly add; “To uh, you. Harrington.” 

“Yeah I got that.” Steve said, because what else was he supposed to do here? “Good for you? I guess?”

“Most people either forgive a guy or tell him to fuck off.”  Munson pouted, and mimicked like he was kicking at a rock. 

It made Steve want to laugh again, though he shoved the urge down. 

“Someone once told me,” He said instead, speaking slowly to make damn sure he didn’t let slip this piece of advice came from a middle schooler. “that apologies without actions don’t really mean anything. They’re a start--they let people know you’re aware you screwed up, but no one’s going to trust you if you don’t follow through. So I can forgive you, but I think you’re better off doing this with one of your friends.” 

Someone who would hug it out, or at least tell Eddie how he could be better, at least. 

Rather than argue, Munson just titled his head back, eyes to the sky. Like he was really thinking on the words, before giving a sort of accepting sounding noise.  

“Trying too.” Steve admitted with a sigh. 

“That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?” He asked, head coming back down so he could stare at Steve.

“The thing in the cafeteria was a good start.” 

“Yeah?” 

Eddie grinned. 

“Yeah. Don’t think Hagan’s gonna see it the same way though.” 

“We were falling out anyway.” Steve admitted, and hated how easy it was to say.

That they really were just going through the motions of friendship. Had been, ever since Jonathan had punched Steve in the face. 

“Think you lost more than just him as a friend, to be honest.”  

“Pro tip about the actions thing, Munson?” Steve said with a snort, once again unsure of where this conversation was going, “Nice people don’t typically point out when someone’s turned into a social pariah.” 

“No, I get that. Say,” Eddie’s grin had grown, which Steve would have taken poorly except he invaded Steve’s space with a goofy little hop. “I think you might be in need of some new ones!” 

“New…friends?” Steve hesitated, very unsure of what was happening. 

Munson promptly stuck his hand out. “Yup! So--hello, my name is Eddie Munson, and I am here to apply for the position as your friend!” 

Steve snorted, but the harshness of it was taken away by the grin on his face. 

He took Eddie’s hand, noting how doing so made the older teen’s smile widen. 

“Nice to meet you Eddie, I’m Steve.” 

Excited, Eddie waived their arms up and down, with far more enthusiasm than the gesture required. 

“How about we cement our new friendship by renting a truly terrible horror movie and drowning our woes with my other good friend, Mary Jane?” 

Then he waggled his eyebrows, like that was something scandalous. 

“Tempting me along with weed, huh?” Steve mused back, sticking his hands in his pockets once Eddie let him go. “Guess you’re a little like Gandalf the Gray after all. Just don’t send me on any missions.” 

“Steve Harrington.” Eddie gaped, pure delight spreading across his face. “Have you read Lord of the Rings!?” 

He got a shrug and a sly; “Maybe.” in response. 

It was worth the barrage of questions, even if the rapid fire pace of them nearly gave Steve a headache.

(Just as it was worth it several months later, when Steve was comfortable enough to instigate wrestling matches with Eddie over the dumbest of things. 

One particularly semi-drunk tussle over the remote led to an interesting discovery when Eddie popped a boner, and then frantically tried to escape when it brushed against Steve’s leg. 

 Instead of panicking--or letting Eddie bolt in his panic, Steve just dropped his whole weight down, effectively pinning the slimmer man to the floor. 

“Steve.”

Eddie said it so quietly he almost didn’t hear it, the word filled with desperation.

The kind of tone someone whispered a prayer in, a sort of pleading that Eddie did better with his eyes than his voice. Or would have, given his own were firmly scrunched closed the second he realized he’d been caught out. 

Except--

“Not right now I’m thinking.”  Steve told him absently. 

Which he was. Speed thinking even, if that was a thing. 

Because if two plus two equaled four (which it did) then feeling the exact same, fluttering excitement about Eddie’s boner as Steve had Nancy’s breasts, equaled…

“The fuck? Steve--”

Steve shushed him. 

That pulled a frustrated, embarrassed groan from Eddie that went directly to Steve’s own dick, not that it needed much help waking up. 

“I think I’m having one of those crisis’s Robin is always accusing the basketball team of having.” Steve informed Eddie dutifully, the dots done connecting.

Eddie, still refusing to open his eyes, snorted. 

“Whatever man. Can you at least be decent and hurry up with the beating? This is embarrassing enough.” 

“I’m not going to beat you up.” Steve said, thankful that his brain managed not to add some shitty comment about the entire town being awash in rumors of Eddie’s sexuality. That he’d confirmed it here wasn’t exactly a surprise. 

“I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it, let me know.” Streve added, before screwing up his courage and leaning down.

That of course, got Eddie to open his eyes.

“Wha--” He managed, before Steve’s lips were on his. 

For one single, blissful moment, Eddie Munson’s mouth was too busy to talk. 

“Yeah?” Eddie said, voice wrecked, and oh, Steve liked that. 

“Huh.” Steve muttered, when they broke for air. “Well that’s new.”

Liked the way Eddie looked at him more, hesitant, but with heat in his gaze. 

Steve had always been good about knowing what to do with heat. 

He leaned back down, pecking lightly at Eddie’s lips, and was delighted to find Eddie not only let him, but kissed back. 

“Not bad, Munson, but I think I could give you a few pointers.” Steve muttered, nose ghosting alongside Eddie’s. “Let me show you…” 

One boyfriend, several weeks, and another interdimensional monster later, Steve found himself socked in the arm by none other than his coworker, Robin Buckley. 

In her defense, she’d confessed her love for Tammy Thompson, still somewhat drugged on the Starcourt bathroom floor, only for Steve to tease her that at least his boyfriend could actually sing. 

“God you and Eddie Munson.” She muttered after, smile on her face. “How did that happen?” 

Steve knocked his shoe into hers, returning the grin unabashedly. 

“So remember last Valentines Day?” Steve started, all too eager to finally tell someone who understood about the best thing to ever happen to him. 

Robin of course, would soon also be ranked in that same chart, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. ) 

[radioroxx]

i do not have . the energy or time or motivation to make Whole comes for how scenes and bits would play out in the bonnie in the loops au. this one i did for a lil fun :)

also important note but not really important bonnie was nooooot invited to the loop hangout :/ they came anyway which complicated things but dw about it

[superbat-lmao]

In college, Harvey and Harley would poke fun at being Bruce’s first friends. He’d been so closed off with all those rich kids that it took him until college to really find his people.

But that’s not entirely true.

Bruce would say he had a lot of friends actually, just that none of them stuck around for very long. Meeting each of them was completely accidental. And strange. It has taken him a while to figure out what was happening, but once he got one of them to admit to it, the rest caved pretty quick.

You see, Bruce’s friends were time travelers.

They had crazy suits, some skin tight, others padded like a SWAT team, and all of them made of stuff Bruce had never seen before. They could also do insane tricks they were willing to teach Bruce, like backflips and knife throwing when he was old enough. They promised to teach him more each time they came back through time.

They wouldn’t give him their names, but they all had nicknames for each other and that worked well enough. Didn’t want to blow up the time-space continuum.

He met “Wing” first. He’d felt moronic calling someone that looked like an adult something that wasn’t a real name, but by the time Jay, Red, and Robin turned up, he caught on to the bird theme. The girls didn’t stick with the bird thing and neither did Tom, although the knew that was a fake name, especially because Robin would often try and call him Thomas, so he assumed it was close.

So yes actually, Bruce had friends before he met Harley and Harvey. He was just waiting for the day he would meet them in his time.

[nostalgicfun]

My boss called me into her office to teach me how to use a new platform, but had to take a call immediately after I sat down. So while she was talking, I pulled up a document to take the notes on and got everything ready. I generally make my personal notes tacky/gaudy/otherwise fun to look at since I'm the only one who sees them but may need to occasionally open them up to refer to them.

After hanging up the phone, she turned, looked at my screen, and said "What is that."

And I'm like "whenever I take notes that I know for a fact no one else will ever need a copy of, I pretty them up :)"

She just shook her head and said "Don't worry about doing all that."

"Oh, I know, I do it for me! It makes learning more-"

"Yeah, just don't do that."

Well okay I didn't know whimsy was banned on my personal devices now

[overtake]

Max and Daniel’s morning, pre Melbourne padel (~ 930 words) (also a factual and true account of events)

Max traces his hand along the delicate outline of Daniel’s collarbone. Beneath it, Daniel’s chest rises and falls in a steady, even rhythm, disrupted only by the occasional snore. There’s a thick layer of dark hair covering the place where his heart beats. It’s been ages since he stopped waxing, but Max never tires of the opportunity to see him as he was meant to be.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, in the end. The sun has long risen through the cracks in the curtains, highlighting the bump of Daniel’s nose, the few flecks of grey beginning around his temple, the little bare spot on his beard that Daniel had accidentally shaved when he meant to trim. Max’s fingers are still lightly following the shape of Daniel’s tattoos, halfway through the word ‘love’, when his eyelashes finally flutter.

Normally, Daniel is far more regulated about his sleep schedule than Max is and has usually lived half a day before Max wakes up. It’s the only advantage of Max’s jet lag; when they’re anywhere but home, Max gets to luxuriate in the experience of watching Daniel’s joy-lined face remember there’s a day ahead, before his eyes land on Max and shape back into the sleepy half-smile that’s for no one but them and hotel mornings. Max has watched him wake up a thousand times in a thousand places in a thousand ways, but ever finding it banal would be akin to growing bored with watching the sun rise.

“Good morning,” Daniels says, the greeting low and half lost while his throat remembers how to sound out words. He reaches out a relaxed arm, untwisting it from the cocoon of sheets to grab at Max’s hip. The black rose and tan fingers contrast against the white-pink skin that dimples under his touch, grabbing just enough that Max knows what Daniel is asking for.

He moves out of his cross-legged position to kneel over Daniel’s torso, each leg tight along the sides of his body. Daniel rests his hands on the top of Max’s thighs, moving his fingers tantalizingly slow. They brush the fine hair askew, dip under the tight black confines of his boxer briefs, circle around to the insides of his thighs and just barely graze the slow-growing bulge, before moving almost down to Max’s knees. Max shudders, goosebumps appearing with the lingering remnants of Daniel’s soft touches, before he finally seats himself on Daniel’s stomach and straddles him properly.

Daniel’s not as small as he once was, no longer forced to stay lean and lithe to force himself into a race car. He’s finally able to build muscle in the way he’s always wanted. Max likes him all ways, but he likes it the most when Daniel likes himself. He’s quiet about it, but Max can see it in the way Daniel lingers in the mirror a little longer, appreciating that his workout tops are slightly tighter around the bands of muscle and broader chest.

“Do you still have to be at the shop this morning?” Max asks when Daniel fully wraps his arms around Max’s lower back and lifts himself into a seated position with an exaggerated groan, burying his face into the junction of Max’s neck and shoulder. He nips at it playfully, then nods big enough that Max can feel the answer against his skin.

“Soon?” Max checks. They have padel plans this afternoon before Daniel has to leave the city, make his quiet exit back to his friends and family and farm and nothing that reminds him of the car that was meant to be his. When the clock strikes midnight into Thursday, they both want him away from the noise of this weekend.

“Soon,” Daniel confirms, adjusting Max slightly on his lap and pulling him impossibly closer. Max will make the brief stop to Perth after this, to feel the last rays of Australian summer as it morphs into autumn, in a place where neither of them have to remember racing and can leave behind the resentment of what could have been.

Daniel’s beard is slightly scratchy against Max’s neck, no doubt turning the sensitive skin pinker than the sun soon will. He smells of coconut shampoo and the slightly chemical hotel sheets.

They should take hurried advantage of these spare moments. Max of a few years ago can’t even fathom having an ounce of time with Daniel where someone’s not frantically getting off. He’s enjoying it, though. He could have intense sex with Daniel nonstop and never get bored of the intimacy, the luxury of knowing Daniel’s touch, but he doesn’t feel sick with the need anymore. Daniel is going nowhere. Daniel has run so many times, away from so much and toward the promise of all that has failed him, but he’s always come back to Max. They have forever to know the sounds of each other’s moans, the changing of their bodies and the years, the pride in knowing exactly what pushes the other over the edge. Even on a day where Daniel is leaving, there’s no urgency.

It starts slow and ends slow, Max rutting his hand against the grip of Daniel’s hand, Daniel rocking his hips under Max. Their release is quiet, a shuddered gasp of relief and peppered kisses. There’s no rush to the shower, either. Max has nowhere to be this morning, and Daniel’s commitments rank second on a day like this. Max rests his forehead against a soft head of curls, strokes the velvet soft skin of his back, and soaks peacefully in the rays of Daniel’s love.

[davonati]

They make love out there in the field, before David has to leave for good. It’s fast and messy, with both of their emotions running so high. Yonatan comes with the taste of David’s tears on his tongue.

He stays lying on his back in the grass until the sound of crunching footsteps finally fades away, and only realizes later that, in their utter desperation for each other, he’d forgotten to take any of the usual precautions. But by then, it’s far too late.

***

Four months later, he goes to see David at Horesh. Even in the dim light of the hideout, David looks at him oddly.

“Something’s different about you,” he muses, and Yonatan has to stop himself from reflexively clutching his belly. He’s not showing yet, not really, but he can feel the life growing inside him.

He expects David to approach him then, to explore the planes of his body as he’s done countless times before. He readies himself to tell David the truth, to finally feel the weight of this secret lift off his shoulders. But David comes no closer. He eyes him for another moment and then turns away, pulling out a large map of the Judean territories as he updates Yonatan on his group’s movements over the last few months.

It’s better this way, Yonatan decides. David has enough to worry about at the moment without concerning himself with Yonatan’s health, and there’s no guarantee that the baby will make it to term anyways: it’s not as if Yonatan is willing – or able – to confine himself to bedrest for nine months. When David returns to Giveah, Yonatan can reevaluate the situation. Most likely Yonatan will never need to reveal his mistake; best case scenario, David will have an heir to secure his lineage as he ascends to the throne.

***

Years later, as Yonatan lies bleeding out under the stars, his last thought is to wish he’d gotten the chance to tell David about their son.

[thewormdraws]

[thaliagrayce]

Jason was headed to the Big House when he caught sight of Nico leading a trio of terrified-looking twelve-year-olds to where Mrs O’Leary lay napping in the strawberry fields. It had been Nico’s idea to introduce some of the younger campers to monsters in what passed as a safe environment. He’d argued that Mrs O’Leary could be a great tool for teaching, and for making the kids less likely to panic when they first met monsters in the wild.

Nico looked more and more relaxed as the group got closer to Mrs O’Leary. She lifted her head to give a sniff, and Nico went straight to her and leaned on her sun-warmed flank. Jason always liked watching Nico interact with her. He looked so much more at ease around the hellhound than he did around most campers.

“Spending a lot of time with him recently, huh?

Jason did not jump. It took effort. Leo had materialized on his left, and he was looking at Jason as if he expected a response.

“Yeah,” Jason said once his heartbeat had returned to normal. “Nico’s really cool, once he gets comfortable around you.”

“Hm.” Leo squinted into the fall sunshine to where an Ares kids had tentatively held her hand up for Mrs O’Leary to smell. It was going well until Mrs O’Leary sneezed, and the kid flinched hard enough to fall on her butt.

Jason could almost hear Nico’s laughter from here, if he focused hard enough. He felt himself smiling in response.

“Should I be, like, nervous?”

Blinking, Jason turned back to Leo. “What?”

“Di Angelo isn’t trying to replace me or anything, right?”

Jason snorted. “Of course not.”

“You sure? He looks like a man who’s gunning for the Jason Grace Best Friend title belt,” Leo joked. Jason rolled his eyes at him. Nico looked like a boy who needed to lean on his SUV-sized dog to stay upright when he laughed.

“Aw, come on. You know it’s not the same.”

“How?!” Leo’s tone was light, so he was probably teasing, but Jason still had a hard time differentiating sometimes. Leo was good at hiding his real hurt behind jokes, but he also told a lot of jokes with no substance to them. Whatever raised a reaction. Jason wasn’t sure how serious he should treat this line of questioning.

“I don’t know, it just isn’t. We mess around a lot, right? I’m usually nicer to Nico—”

“So what I’m hearing is it’s different because you treat him better! I’m too late!” Leo cried out, finally pulling free a wire from the walkie talkie he’d been messing with. He flashed a grin at Jason, showing off the disemboweled gadget.

Teasing, then. Jason felt himself relax.

“You wouldn’t want me to be nicer and you know it. Besides, we both know you can take it.”

“And Nico can’t?” Leo was already turning his attention back to the walkie talkie.

“It’s not that, it’s more like…” In the field, Nico reached out his hand to the kid who’d stayed in the back of the group up until now. Even from this far away, the kid looked scared. Nico supported them as they walked up to Mrs O’Leary, though. He held their hand through something that had obviously scared them. It was such a Nico gesture, Jason couldn’t help but smiling.

“He could take it, sure, but he shouldn’t have to. He deserves to be treated gently.”

There was silence for a while, and Jason only really became aware of it when Leo slowly leaned forward into his field of vision. His eyebrows had made a migration toward his hairline, and they didn’t look like they were dropping anytime soon. Jason thought back over what he’d said and blushed. When had he started looking at Nico again, anyway? He turned away from the strawberry field to look at Leo full on.

“Dude,” Leo said.

“Shut up.”

“I was joking before, but like, now I’m not sure. Do I legit have to be worried you like him better?”

“I don’t like him better, I just like him different. It’s totally normal.”

It was true, too. Even more than he’d even realized when he said it. Friendship with Nico didn’t feel like any other friendship he’d ever had. It was… quiet. Intense. It felt charged, but relaxing at the same time. It was contradictory and almost addicting, Jason couldn’t really describe it. He caught himself before his eyes drifted back to the strawberry fields and made himself focus on Leo, who looked dubious to the point of being borderline offensive.

“Different, or—”

“Different,” Jason insisted. “Just like I like you and Piper different. Not better or worse, just… Different.”

Come to think about it, though…

“Sure fuckin' hope you like me and Piper different,” Leo grumbled. “You’re my bro, but I don’t want you pulling your Loverboy moves on me. I mean…” Leo kept going, but Jason was too busy spiraling to pay attention.

He’d said he liked Leo and Piper different, but did he? The way he felt about Leo was a lot closer to the way he felt about Piper than it was to what he felt for Nico, if he stopped to think about. Remarkably similar, really. His palms started to sweat.

Oh gods, he thought. Do I have a crush on Leo?

[lloydskywalkers]

Ur back from the depths again!

I AM!! working two jobs at once has been. something would not recommend :'D

[yanxidarlings]

ik i should focus on requests but i just have some ideas

what if the reader from the slytherin x dormmate reader series ended up in ravenclaw? (spoiler alert he now has a ravenclaw yandere harem) will address the slytherin side of this conundrum in another post but for now i present

YANDERE HOGWARTS: RAVENCLAW BOYS X DORMMATE READER

"ravenclaw" the entire hall falls dead silent, m/n l/n, from the famous l/n family? the purebloods that have been in slytherin for centuries? a ravenclaw. the young boy had a look of horror on his face as he sat there in shock.

the sorting hat was taken off his head and mcgonagall ushered him towards the ravenclaw table. "no- but" he squeked out as he was sat with the rest of the first year ravenclaws. he felt himself bumping into someone as he sat down, oh my god did i just touch a mudblood, m/n thought, stealing a glance at the person- boy, who was next to him, merlin help me i'm going to hell.

"names michael corner" m/n heard the faint voice of another boy, his handoutstretched as the prefect led the first years up the ravenclaw tower stairs. do i have to do this walk everyday, m/n thought to himself as he stared ahead blankly. "you alright, mate?" the boy walking next to m/n spoke once again, waving his hand in front of m/n's face.

taking it one step further, the boy poked m/n on the cheek, snapping him out of his thoughts - "get your hands off me you filthy-" "quiet down first years, this is the entrance to the common room" m/n was cut off by the prefect, sending a glare the boy - maxwell?, myles? michael?.

• yeah so homeboy reader was not prepared to get sorted into any house but slytherin. i mean ig ravenclaw is better than hufflepuff or god forbid gryffindor but by a small margin.

• dude kinda misses his slythergremlins sure they were annoying but at least they aren't going to suck the magic out of him like the muggleborns in ravenclaw were.

• so reader doesn't really get off on the best foot with his new dormmates, probably says something offensive, and boom, now his dormmates hate him. not to mention his childhood friends who got sorted into slytherin as expected started giving him the cold shoulder.

• okay so they don't hate him but he does feel like the odd one out. yes his first question when he arrived at the dorms was their blood status's and he purposely moved his bed further away from them just so he didn't accidentally catch half blood cooties but it only took him six months to stop scrubbing down the shower before taking one incase one of them carried a virus that would convert him into a blood traitor.

TERRY BOOT (fancast fionn whitehead):

• terry boot is probably the most offended of the three, the other two take the readers behaviour in relative stride but terry get's pretty bothered. is it because he's upset that reader doesn't like him or is it because he's actually offended? the world may never know

• at some point he started going through readers stuff, just to make sure he isn't trying to poison us, but steals little keepsakes like socks, pins and the l/n family signet ring that sent the reader on a rampage for an entire month before he gave up on finding it.

• the winter break after that, reader came back to hogwarts with bruises all across his legs.

"you fell down the stairs? is your coordination that poor or are you getting an early start on the hereditary alcholism in your family" terry scoffed, arms folded, a sceptic expression on his face as he observed the boys bruised limbs.

m/n scoffed "the l/n house has moving stairs you dimwit" he quickly closed the door to the bathroom "you nearly fell down the staircase on the way to potions last term" he added from behind the door. terry frowned, did he see scars on l/n's arm as well? he reached down into his pocket and gripped onto the signet ring he had taken from m/n's bedside table in november.

maybe i should give it back, he thought as he observed the pattern on the ring. as he approached m/n's bed, he began searching for a place to put the ring - on the table? inside the little cauldron? under the bed.

terry kneeled down, moving the sheet's out the way as the shoved it under neath the bunk. you know what, he called me mudblood last year, he can suffer. and with that, boot took the ring and hid it back in his pillowcase.

• terry is a denial kind of yandere, at least in this case, he justifies his actions in his mind and see's nothing wrong with what he does. stealing their stuff? friends share things all the time, stalking them? no he's just going in the same direction, manipulating them? he's sorry if they feel that way but that wasn't his intention.

• his initial dislike of the reader is what fuels his obsession, he simultaneously hates them, wants to be them and wants to be with them. terry thinks he wants the reader to become more accepting of life outside the pureblood bubble he was raised in but once he does and is able to function without the help of his dormmates, terry becomes abominably jealous.

• oh, you ate dinner all on your own without having to wait for terry and anthony to sit next to you and protect you from actual muggleborns? the audacity.

MICHAEL CORNER (fancast owen teague):

• michael is nowhere near as offended as terry, he honestly finds the readers behaviour kind of amusing if not a bit weird. but all purebloods are weird like that, besides it's impossible to hate someone with such a pretty face.

• his darling might be a bigoted blood supremacist but they're his bigoted blood supremacist. he's not as pressed about educating the reader about equality as terry he just figures that eventually the reader will fall madly in love with him and decide that true love is more important than the bloodline and then they'll have 10 babies together and live happily ever after.

• so please don't burst his bubble and act disgusted or blatantly reject his advances. michael really tries to ease his darling into his affection but doesn't really understand that going from sitting next to each other in classes is not one step below sleeping in his bed with him.

"what on merlins beard are you doing" m/n yelled as he swiftly kicked michael in the stomach, flinging the other off his bed. with an oomph, corner placed a hand on his stomach "ow, what is wrong with you" he whined, shifting to lean on his elbows, staring at m/n with a shocked expression "i should be asking what's wrong with you - have you not heard of personal space"

michael clicked his tongue, his eyes rolling "surely we've known each other for long enough to have sleepovers.. you know what a sleepover is right?" "i've never even seen your family tree and you want me to share a bed with you" m/n let out a scoff "you half-bloods are like cavemen merlin help me" he laid back and covered himself with his blanket.

blinking, michael fell silent for a moment "would you like me to get you a copy?" he finally asked, elaborating when the irritated boy muttered what from under the blanket "i'll find my family tree records and give you a copy if you'd like" he replied surely, a smile gracing his face.

m/n pulled the blanket down from covering his face, "well" he started, furrowing his brows, as if deep in thought "i guess so?"

• michael is the only one who openly pursues a romantic relationship with the reader. the darling can never tell the other two's true intentions but god damn is it obvious that michael's goal is to put a ring on it.

• even in fifth year, when he had a few girlfriends, he could. not. leave. reader. alone. literally invited his darling on his dates with ginny and then cho and made several inappropriate propositions and talked about the reader too much on the rare occasions that he was alone with any of his girlfriends which is why they all broke up with him pretty quickly.

• "m/n" "what" "cho broke up with me can you date me instead" "wtf"

ANTHONY GOLDSTEIN (fancast tarjei sandvik moe):

• anthony is intrigued by the reader the moment they sat next to him on the night of the sorting ceremony. any attempts he made at befriending his darling fell on deaf ears. so.. he couldn't help but want to take a look into his mind. and he was a natural born legilimens so it's not like his darling would notice.

• becomes protective of him almost immediately after. his darling is just so fragile and needs someone mature like anthony to make good decisions on his behalf. anthony is quick to cut off his darling from his childhood friends, so that when they got over their shock over the readers sorting, reader would be too attached to his new best friend to want them back.

• he won't let the darling out of his sight, when he studies in the library so will they, they should also take the same classes as him so he can help them with their homework. will mess with their dreams if they try to distance themself from him.

what a poor baby, anthony cooed to himself as he watched m/n from a distance. his cheeks red and tear stained as he bit his index finger, a sob escaped his lips as he wiped his face with his sleeve.

sure, anthony could have stopped riddle, nott and malfoy from shoving m/n around and calling him vile names, but then he would miss out on m/n's endearing sob session that came afterwards.

in the corner of his eye he spotted malfoy on his way back, and swiftly rushed in, hooking his arms with m/n's and dragging the other off with them "wh-" "malfoys on his way back" anthony picked up his pace "were you were watching the whole time?" m/n asked shakily. anthony pulled them both into another corridor, turning to face m/n "yes" he blinked "and you didn't do anything!" the red-faced boy choked out.

anthony smirked "you.. wanted me to come and defend you from malfoy and his goons?" his heart skipped a beat as m/n remained silent, looking defeated "no- i just- uh... i don't- i just" m/n stuttered, face flushing even redder as he stared at the ground.

• anthony infantilises his darling, treating him as a child that can't do anything right. it gets even worse in fifth year when he becomes a prefect: "dumbledore made me a prefect and not you because he knows you can barely tie your own shoelaces"

• goidsteins a lil condescending towards his darling, he exaggerates their mistakes and downplays their achievements. anything to make them dependent on his constant presence. he feels bad sometimes but when they come running to him for everything, it's all worth it ✨

• unlike other groups of yanderes *cough* the slytherins *cough*, these three don't have much of a problem sharing. they're already good friends, and aren't nearly as possesive as some yandere's (le slytherins) not to mention; at first, it's only michael who is openly pursuing the darling romantically.

• terry and anthony don't realise that they like the darling in the same way michael does until like, fifth year. sure there had been cuddling, shared showers and a bit too much emotional intimacy for 'just friends' but what can you expect from a bunch of nerds 😔✋.

• the ravenclaws foster one hell of a dependant relationship with the reader, becoming the only people he isn't nervous around, convincing him everyone else wouldn't be as understanding and his old friends hate him they want him dead so they promise to look after him in return for.. access to the l/n's private library.

• no they expect affection and loyalty back also as soon as they all graduate readers going to move out of his family home and move in with them dormmates for life right?

• no they aren't the worst yandere's not by a milestone but there's just something so suffocating about them.

• the darling will eventually be pressured into a poly relationship with the three. yes they actually ask him if he wants to date them but it's a rhetorical question it's either yes, or no and they start spiking his water with amortentia - then it's also yes.

• as ravenclaws, they realise that violence is not the answer, mind control is. disobedience, rejection, and provoking jealousy will result in the use of the imperius curse or a love potion.

[nostalgebraist]

Due to recent experiences, I am feeling an urge to make an anti-drug-style PSA except it's warning impressionable machine-learning-curious teens to never, ever try a thing called "Huggingface transformers Trainer"

Not. Even. Once.

[ghost-woods]

river and spider in tuxes at a charity ball making snippy comments at each other about james bond and honeypots before they end up fucking in a supply closet send tweet