#and then she sees his instruments in his house and wants to learn

[m3talmunson]

Steve Harrington is incredibly smart. It's not his fault nobody believes him. Or, well, maybe it is.

Steve used to be his parents pride and joy, everyone knew that. When he was young, doing his piano lessons, his mother would show him off at their house parties.

"Look at my Steven!" She'd say, and all the other mothers around would parrot something like "What a sweet boy!" and he would just keep playing. That night his father would commend him for keeping the ladies occupied, that he'd grow up to be a real ladies' man, and how great it was that he kept the women out of the men's hair. He'd never said "I'm proud of you," or "I love you," but that was as close as he got.

And for a while, Steve LIVED for it. He'd come downstairs, see his mother in her good pearls, her party pearls, and know that he'd be good for them that day. Be needed for something.

And then it got old. So he learned cello. That kept them entertained for a while, until it didn't. Then he learned flute. That one kept them occupied a little longer, Mr. Harrington could stand the fact that it was a "girly" instrument because it kept Steve's mouth shut. He got too good at talking while he played the other instruments.

Then he tried guitar, and well all the instruments just stopped impressing them, because they stopped having house parties. Instead, they'd started going out to them. Started going out and not coming back, for weeks upon weeks at a time. Steve was determined to give them something to show off, something to praise.

He had always been quite book smart, but he started really putting the effort in. Steve gave it a year and a half of straight A+'s, until he realized that his parents would never care. So he tried a new approach, called 'skating along right above failing'. It didn't get their attention one bit.

Even when Steve came home beaten and torn, from the upside down or a fight, they weren't even there to ever notice.

And sure, people like Joyce or Hopper would notice, check in on him until the black eye went away. But after that, they had lives to live.

So no, the adults in Steve's life didn't really give him much attention at all.

Of course he didn't mind it all that much. Some small part of Steve just figured 'I deserve it,' and he rolled with the punches.

He found solace in his instruments, still. He learned more and more. Piano was his best, but once you had learned piano you could learn just about anything else with some dedication. His guitar he could whip out at a couple of his high school parties. In private, alone in his room with a girl, he could strike a few chords and they would just obsess over it. Got him the companionship he so desperately needed for a while.

Even so, he never showed Nancy. She made it clear to him that she loved watching him swim, loved his muscles. The more masculine parts of him. So he never brought it out. When she asked about the shiny grand piano in his living room, he'd just say his mom played. He stashed away his other instruments in a spare room, so she wouldn't see them.

That's not to say he didn't want to show her one day. He wanted to, but once you get called bullshit once, you're pretty much over the vulnerability.

So he continued to hide it, hide his smarts. He skated through until graduation, nursing the wounds in his body and mind all alone. Then he met Robin.

And he was just too scared to show her that part of himself. His instruments had become his little secret, and he just wasn't keen on sharing.

Not until after the events of Vecna. He had lost enough by then. He didn't lose any friends this time, but he was close. Max regained some of her eyesight, wearing thick glasses that Steve paid for. He'd never let Max's mother do it. Eddie got his new government-supplied trailer, and walked the long road to recovery. And near the end of that road, Steve threw one damn good party.

It was early August. Steve and Robin had already celebrated a year of being best friends (and being free of Russian torture), but Max was having a harder time, so they waited a little longer, until the Byers-Hopper group had settled in, but before school started. It was pretty much a "Hey Hawkins is (Relatively) Safe!" party. Everyone had mostly recovered from the events of spring break, the Byers-Hopper clan had finally put the finishing touches on their home in Hawkins, getting a nice big house that someone left behind in the "Great Escape From Hawkins of 1986". Eddie had finished high school, a little bit with the pity of teachers who were sorry that they thought he was a murderer, combined with the pity that he was nearly killed in the "earthquake", but who's counting? It was his year.

It was all of their years, finally over with this upside-down business. So Steve threw a party.

The adults had left, calling in their bedtime at 9. The kids and the older teens were sleeping over though. Steve had more than enough space, and of course, the moment Joyce Byers closed the front door with her last "Call me if you need anything!" they had to break out the good old party games.

The kids insisted on truth or dare, and they got a couple rounds in before Dustin decided to single our Steve for once.

"You haven't been called on much, it's my turn to fix that." Dustin said. Argyle was the only person who had chosen Steve so far, since he was on vacation from California for the summer, staying at the Byers place after helping them move in.

"Yeah yeah just spit it out kid," Steve retorted, taking the last swig of his first-and-only beer for the night, always playing it safe in case he had to drive one of the kids home unexpectedly.

"Truth or Dare?"

Steve contemplated for a moment. He picked dare earlier with Argyle and it had been pretty simple. A truth might make him spill some of the secrets he was content to keep in his brain. Within the kids group half of the truths so far had been about crushes. It left Will stammering earlier, and he wasn't about to let the same thing happen to himself. He could admit he had... new feelings when it came to romance that he'd rather not let out in THIS room. What's the worst that could happen if he chose dare anyways?

"Dare. Hit me with your best shot kid."

"Damnit, I had only thought of a truth! Give me a second." Dustin fumbled, turning to Lucas and trying to think of a good dare.

"All that talk..." Eddie whispered into Steve's ear.

That was a new habit the older teens had gotten into. Whispered secrets behind flexed hands, like a little kid's game of telephone. Something that made them feel like kids again. Though if we're being honest, it was mostly Steve and Eddie.

"I know, right?" Steve whispered back. Admittedly, something about the whispering made the hair on Steve's neck stand up on end. It made him feel like he and Eddie were the only people in the world.

He always had to come back to reality though.

"I dare you-" Dustin interrupted, " -to show us something you've never shown anyone before. Like a hidden talent or something."

Steve thought about it for a second. Maybe he could finally be vulnerable with the group. He had gone to hell and back with these people, multiple times. Surely he could play some piano.

So Steve got up, passing his empty bottle to Nance who eyed it with a raised brow and set it on the side table next to her. He stepped over the boys' sleeping bags, all of them sticking around in the living room that night so the girls could have the basement. Steve chose to ignore when Mike fussed, saying that he got stepped on.

He sat down at the piano bench and cracked his knuckles, looking down at the keys before snapping his head up and asking, "Any requests?"

"Wait Steve you can-" Nancy started, before Robin blurted out a song.

"Take Me Home Tonight!" Robin shouted. It had become their collective favorite song recently, both of them singing it every day on the drive home from work.

"Yeah, I can do that one. Be my backup Robs?"

"You don't have to ask twice!" She swung up from her place next to Nance, stepping over the sleeping bags the same way Steve had.

When she made herself a comfy spot on top of the piano, swinging her legs back and forth, Steve started the intro.

Steve thought it sounded a little dinky on classical piano with no synth. He winced to himself as he played the intro, looking up to Robin for comfort. He just saw her jaw drop, and her mischievous smile go wider. He didn't have to look at anyone else, Robin's nod for him to start singing was all he needed to look back down at the keys.

Steve had never been a confident singer, always putting on a bit of a show, carrying a tune -but never doing his best- so if someone said it was bad, he could say he wasn't trying. This time though, he gave it his all.

By the first chorus he was throwing his head back and closing his eyes, putting on a show for a different reason, smiling as wide as he could whilst singing.

He took some liberties: embellishing a little on piano, changing "Ronnie" to "Robbie" because, honestly, who wouldn't have. He got to her solo and, playing the supporting chords with his left hand, held out his right hand and his fake microphone to Robin, who took his arm in her hands and let out her most dramatic "Be my little baby," straight from the heart.

Playing the intro to the next part, Steve remembered that there were people in the room besides him and Robin. He looked around at the faces of his friends. Lucas and Max were bopping along on the floor, Will, El, and Erica had been dancing haphazardly in the corner the whole time, El dragging her brother up by the arm. Erica followed; she had recently taken an admiring to the bitchin' girl with superpowers, plus both El and Max enjoyed having another girl at sleepovers. Dustin's jaw was still on the floor, although Nancy was more subtle about her shock, her mouth hanging in a little "o" . Jonathan and Argyle were nodding their heads along to the bass chords, having just the time of their lives. It was Eddie's face that made Steve's heart jump. He was marveling at Steve, and anyone could tell. It was enough to make Steve sing the next verse directly to him. It became all too real all of a sudden, and he wouldn't change it for the world.

Soon after, the game was ditched, all the kids rattling off songs for Steve to play for them, so they could sing along. After some Loverboy, Blondie, Grease, and their more-than-fair share of ABBA, the kids tired themselves out. Will and El made a point to thank Steve for his playing, Lucas, Max, and Erica whooped and hollered after every song, and the rest of them showed their thanks in other ways, in hugs goodnight or simple looks, eye contacts worth a million words. Then all the older teens headed upstairs. Jonathan and Argyle headed to their room early, but Robin and Nancy stuck around in the Steve's bedroom, where he was sharing with Eddie.

"When were you going to tell us you were a musical GENIUS?" Eddie asked.

"I'm no genius, I just- My mom wanted something to show off at parties when I was younger, I started learning when I was seven so I could be their free entertainment."

"Thirteen years, Steve?" Nancy felt pretty awful not knowing about something so personal to him.

"Yeah, this is my first time showing someone who wasn't at those parties though. Well, on the piano at least."

"What do you mean 'on the piano?' Do you play other instruments dingus?"

"Well, a couple others! Cello, flute, guitar, french horn, and drums a little. I can carry a tune on harmonica, but I mainly picked it up to learn Piano Man. Thought it'd be kinda funny."

"You are magical Stevie, did you know that?"

Those words, Eddie's words, bounced around in Steve's head for the rest of the night. Magical. Him? Magical.

"Seeing as we know a girl with superpowers, I doubt that I'm the magical one." Steve brushed it off.

The girls took their leave a while later, leaving Steve and Eddie to stew in their awkward nature around eachother.

"I guess I can give up on being the only cool guitar player in the group." Eddie said, faking a heartbroken look.

"You can still be the only cool guitar player, I'm just a guitar player."

"Oh c'mon Stevie! You know these kids think you're the coolest person on the planet."

"I think you've got that one covered, I'm just their ever-so-giving host and chauffeur." Steve tried to make a joke out of it, gave his best self-pitying chuckle and everything. Eddie saw right through it. Saw the tears cloud the edge of Steve's vision before he blinked them away.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey," Eddie stopped Steve, "You're so much more than a ride home and a place to stay to them, okay? I mean it, they think you're the coolest person on the planet. And they're not the only ones who think it."

"Ha, like you think it."

"I do, Steve. I do think it."

"I mean, come on Eds! There's really no redeeming factor," Steve let the tears fall freely, moving off of his bed where Eddie sat, and gesturing to himself,"I have a nice car, a big house, and a shit personality. I'm not good in conversation, I don't know any of their nerd games. I'm no good at keeping them safe from anything that isn't an interdimensional monster. I'm just kind of here. I'm not smart, or nice, or even funny, or magical like you said. I'm just here."

"Steve," Eddie started, this look in his eyes, trying it's hardest to tell Steve everything he means to them, means to Eddie. But Steve just closed his eyes, bowed his head, like Eddie had some power over him.

Steve just stood there, head bowed, flexing and unflexing his fists.

"Come here." Eddie commanded, patting the bed next to him. And, just like the little kid who learned piano to entertain his mom, Steve listened.

Steve sat down and Eddie immediately scooted him closer, putting Steve's chin in both of his hands. Making Steve look him in the eye.

"You are so much more to those kids. And even if I'm wrong, you're so much more to me. You are smart, you are kind, you are generous, and loving, and you care for each and every one of us more than anything or anyone in the world could reasonably ask you to." Eddie wiped Steve's tears as they fell, but he never broke eye contact. "You've saved their LIVES Steve. Many of them wouldn't be here without you. I wouldn't be here without you. You carried me out of that hell hole, and you've been here for me since. If there's anyone in this world qualified to tell you how much you mean to them, I think it's me."

"You really believe all of that?"

"Every syllable of every word."

See, Steve Harrington is incredibly smart. It's not his fault nobody believes him.

Not even himself.

But maybe, for the first time, he was about to make a smart decision.

So he learned forward, into Eddie. Pressed his lips into Eddie's and didn't doubt that Eddie would kiss back. And when Eddie did, Steve's heart soared. He put all of his gratitude, all of his feelings into kissing Eddie.

After he finally pulled away, Eddie just had to bring some light into the situation. He wiped away one of Steve's tears, and said:

"I hope I don't have to see those pretty eyes cry for that to happen again."

"You don't-" Steve leaned in again.

And if Robin found them suspiciously close in the morning, it was nobody's business but her own.

[scuttlingcrab]

So it's pretty obvious that Raphael would be a massive fan of luxury items. How would he react to Tav being able to make certain luxury items from scratch (such as lotions, massage oils, perfumes, soaps, etc.) and is really freaking good at it.

Maybe he learns this little fact about Tav when he receives a bundle of custom luxury items from one of his warlocks and it has a note which says, "To: Raphael. From: The mouse. A 'thank you' for the food." (assuming Tav filled a plate of food during the group's first encounter with the fiend)

Thank you for this awesome prompt. I took a liberty with this one, wanted to try something that maybe a writer hasn’t done before re: what luxury item Tav would make Raphael. I also referenced a few characters from my other stories. Marin, the composer from A Night at the Symphony and Dolofina, the warlock, from A Warlock is Born. I couldn’t resist! Hope you enjoy! And send on the next prompt if you haven’t already! :)

Summary: Raphael receives an unexpected gift from Tav.

Warnings: Mild violence/torture

––

A Perfect Fit 

(Image via violadesdragons)

The screams were like music to Raphael’s ears.

The torment that resonated from each shriek, every wail that echoed into his House of Hope, if directed well, could create a symphony that would feed Raphael for weeks. A melody almost as magnificent as Marin’s concertos. Raphael mastered what buttons to push, what minute threads to pull, to achieve perfection.

Every human was an instrument in their own right. They had a unique cord, an unsung talent, that Raphael knew how to excavate and mould. He had spent millenia fiddling with mortals, experimenting with different techniques to inflict pain or even less conspicuous means to really persecute his poor unfortunate pets. 

Nevertheless, Raphael despised it all. Torturing these creatures was so below his station, another idle role he had to play to keep up appearances in this never-ending farce to reach his objective, to reclaim the Crown of Karsus. He longed to see the players of his saga, his glorious ascension, leave the dark confines of the wings and enter the proscenium for all the planes to see.

Raphael listlessly looked up towards his current unfinished task, a withered mortal impaled on rusted spikes. No matter how hard Raphael stared at this rat, how tirelessly he worked his mind to calculate new methods to inflict agony, all Raphael could do was muster an apathetic groan in response. 

He was almost relieved to hear footsteps approaching the dungeon, identifying the bouncy gait of one of his warlocks almost immediately. Dolofina. 

Raphael smiled to himself, letting out a shallow breath as the doors slowly creaked open. He snapped his fingers, and another spike appeared, slowly lifting to meet the others.

“I do hope you have some interesting news for me. And think hard on your answer, or else I might swap you out with poor Boris.” 

Raphael turned to greet Dolofina, the whimpers of the tortured human slowly rising as he approached her. She stared back at him without any emotion, unmoved by the threat. He taught her well.

“Apologies for the intrusion, but a woman was insistent you receive this. She wouldn’t leave Korrilla alone until she confirmed we’d deliver it to you.”

Dolofina lifted the basket in her hands with a sigh, offering it to Raphael. 

“Pah! Which insolent creature is it this time? If it’s that damned–” 

“She only referred to herself as the, and I quote, ‘little mouse.’”

Dolofina seemed perplexed at the name, rolling her eyes as she waited for his response. Raphael’s mouth parted, his eyes instantly becoming more animated at the mention of her.

“Could she be crawling to me already?” So fast, and such a pity. He had been looking forward to a tussle.

Raphael gingerly picked up the basket, holding it in his hands and carefully inspecting every inch as if it was an ancient relic. What a simple little offering, merely a straw woven basket. Its contents were hidden under gold wrapping paper and held together delicately by a red bow.

“Don’t worry, we’ve already inspected it for traps.”

Raphael gave Dolofina a flat stare. 

“Do you think the creature would be so daft?”

Dolofina shrugged.

“I am merely a mortal, what would I know?” 

There was a hint of mischief in Dolofina’s eyes as she smiled back at Raphael, so pleased with herself. He growled, pointing towards the threshold of his dungeon. The skin on his human disguise hissed, verging on transformation. 

“You have overstayed your welcome. And might I remind you, I am your master. I can terminate our agreement whenever I see fit, be it from the smallest lapse in your performance. You know what that means for your future.”

“Yes, master.” Dolofina responded through tight lips. She promptly made her leave, but not without slamming the doors behind her. 

“Must every creature under my employment be so thickheaded?” Raphael whispered, taking a moment to massage the bridge of his nose. 

When Raphael was sure his boiling blood had cooled, he proceeded to focus his attention on the basket, now weighing heavy in his hands. It would’ve been a shame to have accidentally incinerated the gift with his temper, which was nearly uncontrollable in recent months, without even knowing what was inside.

Raphael started with the bow, carefully untying the knot. Once it was removed, he brought it to his nose, slowly taking in its scent. Cloves and roses. Oh how he relished it. Raphael placed the bow in his pocket and removed the wrapping paper. He discovered a small envelope sitting on top of a golden gift box. A sudden jolt of electricity shot through his veins as he opened the letter. 

To: Raphael  From: The Mouse  Thank you for the food. Please accept this gift in exchange for your hospitality. If the measurements are not sufficient, perhaps we can schedule a fitting. You know where to find me.

Raphael snapped his fingers, leaving the letter floating in the air beside him as he continued with the box. His fingers, usually so calm and still, twitched with excitement. 

Raphael gasped, removing a single doublet from the box, its red colour as dark as blood. The silk melted in his hands, the article of clothing sparkling against the roaring flames of the dungeon. Gold and silver markings were intricately embroidered throughout the jacket, infernal designs suiting Raphael’s tastes. The cuffs of the doublet were adorned with devil tails that swished and curled on a constant loop. 

“My, my, the little mouse has been busy indeed.”

And what artistry! It had been ages, no centuries, since his eyes fell on such an alluring piece. Is this what it would feel like once he held the Crown in his hands? 

Raphael snapped his fingers, the doublet now on his person. He sighed, oh it fit him perfectly, as if that creature knew Raphael’s body like the back of her hand. He raised his arms, bowed, did every possible movement that could come to his mind in that instant, and yet could find no imperfections. 

Raphael was a generous devil, perhaps often too generous. He wasn’t opposed to receiving such luxurious gifts on occasion, but it was dangerous to play with his food. He considered for a moment being harsher to his future clients. The little mouse had a long road ahead of her if she was to help Raphael get what he desired. She needed to focus. No more distractions. No more gifts. 

And yet… 

Raphael clapped his hands and a mirror appeared before him. He gave himself a little spin, grinning. It was a suitable doublet. Cursed creature! Perhaps he could make other uses of these tadpoled yet. What was that mortal saying he heard so often? Ah yes, all work, and no play… 

Raphael was pulled from his thoughts at the howls of the tortured mortal, still impaled above him. Raphael’s cheeks burned, he had been sloppy, overlooking that he was not alone.

He angrily snapped his fingers and the mortal combusted. Their screams died with the flames, leaving no signs of their previous existence as the ashes fluttered away. A waste of a soul, Zariel be damned. She’d never even notice it was missing. 

And with that, Raphael stormed out of the dungeon, proudly wearing his new doublet. 

[sitp-recs]

hi liv! do you know of any draco-centered longish fics??? thanks! i just love him so much

Hi anon, definitely! Here are my favourites:

Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 47k)

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.”

“What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

A Room Up There (And You In It) by @the-starryknight (T, 59k)

When Preservationist Draco Malfoy was assigned to work on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he was excited to delve into the gorgeous Black family antiques. His excitement quickly ended when something in the House decided it did not like his presence one bit.

The Trouble with Wanting by waldorph (E, 60k)

Draco Malfoy is cleared of all charges; this is what happens next.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (E, 70k)

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always.

Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters (M, 74k)

Every day, Draco Malfoy tries. With every fiber of his being he tries. But he doesn’t much think about what he’s trying for. In his final term of Healer training, Draco is unfortunate enough to find himself on a plane, the only means of traveling to a small, magical town in rural Alaska.

Super Rich Kids by @thusspoketrish (E, 81k)

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

A Thousand Beautiful Things by geoviki (M, 104k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

Nor All That Glisters by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 110k)

Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (M, 114k)

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym (M, 131k)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion (E, 131k)

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

There Is Always the Moon by @firethesound (T, 159k)

Draco's life after the war is everything he wanted it to be: it's simple, and quiet, and predictable, and safe. But when a mysterious curse shatters the peace he'd worked so hard to build, there's only one person he can trust to help him. After all, Harry Potter has saved his life before. Now Draco has to believe that Potter will be able to do it one more time.

[echo-bleu]

your veins are empty of dust

Nerdanel stays behind and sculpts. Also on AO3. Title from The Amazing Devil's King.

1.

There is no need for statues to remember, in a world that doesn’t forget.

Nerdanel likes to carve birds and rabbits and flowers and leaves. Transitory wonders. When she is commissioned to sculpt people, she shapes new features, never before seen, or she captures the ever-changing fánas of barely-there Maiar.

She has hanged painted portraits and sketches of her children at various stages of growing all over the house, but no marble likeness.

They are right here to look at, after all.

2.

After Alqualondë, Nerdanel retreats from the world.

The darkness and the absence permeate everything. Elves discover the grief of impermanence. In Tirion, there is no court left to appear at, no councils to lead, no strolls to take at the end of the day to admire the Mingling. No news from the ones who have left.

Anairë finds her late one day in her workshop, surrounded by slabs of stone larger than her. She is hammering forcefully at one of them, the barest hints of an elven shape already taking form in the marble. Bitter, stinging tears run down her cheeks and into her collar, and her arms ache with exhaustion.

The body is only barely sketched, but the face is already chiselled, smooth curves and angular cheekbones.

Fëanáro emerges out of the marble, looking like he’s about to take life.

(Across the sea, her sons lead a funeral.)

3.

It’s Anairë again who comes to her, when Arien first sails across the sky. Nerdanel is rearranging her workshop to take advantage of the new light. The windows were designed for the glowing of the Trees.

Anairë nearly collapses as soon as she passes the door.

“Who?” Nerdanel asks her, supporting her to a chair. It’s covered in white stone dust, but neither of them cares.

Fëanáro’s finished statue looms in a corner of the workshop, just out of the light. He looks like he did when she first met him, young and passionate and determined, before the world shrunk around them and suffocated him.

“Arakáno,” her friend weeps.

“Oh, Anairë,” Nerdanel murmurs. “Your youngest.”

“Would you—”

Nerdanel had no intention of ever doing it again. “Of course,” she says.

It was overly optimistic of her, she supposes.

Arakáno looks painfully young and hopeful under her chisel’s tip.

4.

For centuries, there are no news. Nerdanel’s art escapes toward the abstract, great shapes of wind and water and fire coming out of the stone in ways they never had before. Arafinwë crowns himself king, and Anairë busies herself with the day-to-day workings of the court and the administration.

Nerdanel doesn’t think about her sons across the water. She doesn’t wonder how Maitimo looks with a crown on his head. She doesn’t wonder which new instrument Makalaurë has taken up. She doesn’t wonder what new animal languages Tyelkormo has learned. She doesn’t wonder if Carnistir still wants to write his book, or if Atarinke is coming close to the skill of his father, or what little Tyelpë has grown into. She doesn’t imagine Ambarussa running into danger with every new day, so far away from her.

(Except on the days when she can’t think about anything else.)

Somehow, against all of her instincts, life goes on.

There is no twinge from the bonds in her fëa, no sign of any change. She’s almost ready to think them safe, over there, maybe even thriving.

And then Anairë comes back.

5.

Little Irissë used to follow Tyelkormo around everywhere. Fëanáro would watch her childish infatuation with much more indulgence than he ever afforded Findekáno and his friendship with Maitimo, perhaps because neither of them were their fathers’ heirs.

Where is Tyelkormo now, with his little shadow gone? Is Maitimo free to live his love for all to see? Have any of her sons married? Atarinke’s wife didn’t go into exile either, though she wants nothing to do with Nerdanel. The others left unpledged to anyone but that oath they all took.

To the everlasting darkness.

What if they fail?

Nerdanel has never truly wondered what will happen then, too busy missing them and cursing Fëanáro for it all.

Irissë’s marble figure looks back at her accusingly. All the arrows in her quiver are fletched with Tyelkormo’s special technique.

6.

It’s fifty more years before she carves another face, but the question haunts her.

(Ñolofinwë looks grander and colder in stone than he ever did in life.)

7.

Eärwen didn’t come to her when she lost Angaráto and Aikanáro. Nerdanel heard it through Anairë and mourned, but she can’t blame her. Eärwen never forgave the murder of her brothers – how could she – and she avoids Nerdanel if she can help it. She has only recently moved back to Tirion and rejoined her husband.

Arafinwë doesn’t publicize the death of his sons. He could call for city-wide mourning, but he keeps their grief private and personal. Few can see the bags under his eyes as he holds court as normal in the wake of his loss.

But a few weeks after Findaráto’s death, Nerdanel finds Eärwen at the door of her workshop.

8.

The news come with rumours of a great battle, of spouses and parents and children all over Tirion feeling the loss. Anairë’s shoulders are hunched over with the weight of grief.

The white marble makes Findekáno’s skin seem almost transparent, compared to the warm brown of her memories.

She grieves for Maitimo as much as she grieves for Anairë. Her son could never hide from her his devotion for Findekáno, the depth of his feelings. Did Findekáno ever forgive him for the burning of the ships? Did they find some happiness together?

She will never know.

9.

She tried, long ago, at Fëanáro’s bequest, to sculpt Míriel’s likeness from the body resting in the Garden of Lórien. She could never make her look alive.

Arafinwë waited years to commission a statue of Finwë. He put it in his throne room. Nerdanel hasn’t stepped foot in it since.

10.

She feels the bounds snap, snap, snap, only minutes apart. She collapses in the street, and the paint buckets in her hands spill around her, yellow and blue flowing into her red hair like a painting.

She comes back to herself on a couch in Anairë’s bower. For days, she only has the strength to weep until she makes herself sick.

Tyelkormo. Carnistir. Atarinke.

She locks herself inside her workshop. It is no refuge, only pain aggrandized, only grief carved into her soul. She can’t stand it. She keeps going.

When she finally emerges, after her father, worried, has come himself to find her, there are three new statues at the back of her atelier.

It doesn’t feel like it’s enough. It never has.

She doesn’t step inside the workshop again for several years.

11.

When she does, it’s for Anairë, who has now lost everything.

12.

She sculpts her twins together, in each other’s arms, inseparable even in eternal stillness.

(She can barely stand to look at them.)

13.

She knows now what her sons did over the sea. From the young Sinda girl and her strange husband, she has heard how they died. She has wept for their deeds as she wept for their deaths, and she weeps still for the two who live now on borrowed time, hunted and haunted by their own hand and the terrible Oath her husband had them swear.

Arafinwë has gone to war. Nerdanel wonders if Eärwen will come to her, when he doesn’t come back.

14.

Maitimo is beautiful, towering over her, his half-braided hair cascading down his shoulder. She can almost see the colours in the white marble veins, her own bright red reflected in his, the delicate tones of his skin.

Like her husband, he burned bright until the fire engulfed him entirely.

She falls to her knees at his feet. She has no tears left to weep.

15.

“He didn’t look like this, any more.”

Nerdanel turns sharply, to find Findaráto leaning against the door of the workshop.

He doesn’t look like he did under the light of the Trees, either. His face is a study of scars and new lines that didn’t fade in Mandos, and his gaze is heavy with pain. Nerdanel wonders what Eärwen did with his statue.

“He lost his right hand during his rescue from Angband,” Findaráto says, nodding at Maitimo’s likeness. “And he was heavily scarred.”

Nerdanel swallows around the lump in her throat, and runs a dusty hand through her hair. Does she want to keep her son unmarred in memory, as he no longer is?

She takes a breath and hold out her chisel. “Show me.”

16.

There are six statues at the back of her atelier. It is now clear of anything else, clean and aired and unused, her chisels and hammers put away in their racks.

Between the second and the third statue, there is an empty space. And in the middle of the workshop, a single slab of stone, waiting.

17.

It stays untouched.

18.

“Ammë,” her son murmurs as he collapses into her arms, fresh off the ship that brings him over the sea, after two ages of wandering.

He looks nothing like she remembers. He’s so thin that he hardly weighs in her embrace, half-faded, his face marked with age as no elf’s should be. He barely has a grip on where he is on a good day, and he is lost in time more often than not.

She doesn’t care.

And if she finds him in her workshop sometimes, talking to the statues of his father and his brothers as if they are alive, well. People have said that her likenesses look more real than real people.

(Makalaurë, standing still in the empty space that long awaited him, makes a better marble than live body.)

19.

One day, maybe, they will come back to her from Mandos, alive and safe. One day, maybe, Makalaurë will live again in the present more than he is in the past. One day, maybe, she will no longer be surrounded by faces of stones, and she will be able to stop grieving.

For now, she will bask in the presence of her last son and her grandsons – Tyelpë, all grown and only just re-embodied, and Elrond, who brought her Makalaurë back.

And she will wait.

[divineei]

modern!atwow x musician!reader

modern avatar mlist!

desc. headcanons for modern avatar: the way of water teens with a musician significant other who’s in a band. reader plays a different instrument for each character.

a/n. if this flops i’m retiring. real shit.

— neteyam. ( guitarist s/o ♪! )

he sleeps with a t-shirt of your band every. goddamn. night.

gives it back to you once a week so you can spray your perfume on it. you ended up bringing him a bottle of ur fave brand and he sprays the cologne on it every time he washes it (aka ever fucking week)

mans hooked. to both you and your music

listens to your band’s songs at least once a day. either w/ headphones or on full blast it doesn’t matter

his whole family knows all the lyrics

sometimes tuk comes to his room and jumps on his bed while playing air guitar and he absolutely joins

other times tho he closes his eyes to focus and pays special attention to the guitar while having your smile in mind

he once spent like 2 weeks watching youtube tutorials to (kinda) learn one song so he could play for you

was it good? no it was fucking hideous. was it the sweetest fucking thing ever tho? absolutely it was

always tries to pick you up after band practice

my boy would rather miss his basketball competitions than miss one of your concerts

this one time he actually tried to skip a match bc your performance was at the same time and the mf showed up backstage like “hEy🙂”

you had to call his mom for him to leave (u snitch that was kinda foul)

definitely knows abt “the rockstar’s girlfriend” aesthetic and makes it his personality. like he’s so into it

you got him a t-shirt that said “im with the band” as a joke but he actually wears it and its hilarious

— kiri. ( keyboard s/o ♪! )

comes to your house just to hear you play

she brings a book and lays down on your bed while you make new music

ADORES watching you come up with new tunes!!!!!!

you always have that focused look on your face as you move your fingers over the keys at makes her want to take a picture (she actually has a few ngl)

always goes back home humming your new melody

you record covers of her favorite songs on your keyboard and give her a cd that she listens to on her discman (she defo owns old gadgets like that)

sometimes puts her phone down on her window stool, where she has her favorite plants, and leaves it there with your music playing. she likes to think it help her plants grow

lowkey gatekeeps your songs

there was this one time you couldn’t sleep bc she kept appearing on your mind, so you connected your headphones and made your “ode to kiri”

it was 2am when you vídeocalled her to play for her what you just wrote

and kiri being the sensitive person she is, swore she could feel your affection through the music, little tears threatening to fall from her pretty eyes

it was truly a treasured memory in your relationship

until a loud ass knock on your door and an equally loud “FFS ITS 2AM!!!!!” almost made you drop dead

she absolutely laughed at you btw

— lo’ak. ( bassist s/o ♪! )

brings you stickers so you can decorate your bass w/ them

“aye babe i got a new sticker for your guitar” “for the hundredth time lo’ak, its a BASS!!!”

yeah he knows it annoys you and no he’s not gonna stop

his lockscreen is a picture of you on stage with a bunch of lil hearts he drew around you

when he goes to your concerts he tells everyone you two are dating

“you see that one over there bro? pfft yeah, we’re together” “do i know you man????” 💀

when you told him your band didnt have a logo yet he showed up at your door 3 days after, super excited and with a bunch of sketches to show you

i also think lo’ak would be really into graffiti art

so he goes around the neighborhood spray painting your band’s logo on the streets walls

“lo’ak you’re gonna get us in trouble” “oh cmon, its good promo!!”

he messes up with your amplifier when you practice, turning up and down the volume, the treble, etc. until you throw your pick right into his fucking forehead and he’s like:

“ma fault 😨”

the moment he (finally) sits still he actually pays really close attention to how your hands move

“damn, you make it look so easy” “im just good with my fingers ig”

cue the dumbest smirk you’ve ever seen

— ao’nung. ( drummer s/o ♪! )

imma just say it; he is popular. by that i mean ma boy has hella contacts

AND by that i mean he makes sure your band always has a venue to perform at. always first on every list fr

“ao’ stay the fuck away from my drums”

actually a fucking menace. tries to impress you by smashing the drumsticks everywhere.

“nah babe check me out i got it this time srsly”

rhythm left the room the moment he sat down

he even attempts some tricks he seen you pull off during your concerts, like throwing the sticks up or rolling them between his fingers.

they always end up either on the floor or hitting his dumbass head. it’s cool tho, u kiss it better (after a well deserved smack bc what did i tell u)

he’d still insist on learning so you two end up having a chick flick moment where you guide him by putting your hands on his

boy actually blushes. just a smidge

“your ears are red” “stfu no they’re not”

might not know shit abt making music but seeing the look on your face when you play is enough to make him see how passionate you are

loves being alone with you in your band’s backstage lounge

he’s so fucking extra he got his friend outside the door like some whack ass bodyguards. they’re so into it too bro

“aye keep walking man🕴���” “move along bitch aint nothing to see here🕴️”

whenever you’re about to go on stage he stays with you in your band’s room and massages your hands

makes sure you always put some baby powder on your palms before you perform in case you start sweating so you dont drop your drumsticks

— tsireya. ( vocalist s/o ♪! )

she sings along to your songs whenever they play

ao’nung is sick and tired of listening to her and uses ear plugs all the time bc he once told her to stfu and got smacked

you two even make your own carpool karaoke and scream the lyrics together on the parking lot

and she NAILS IT!!!!!

like my girl can sing fr

in fact you’ve asked her to help in a few songs for harmonies and second voices

she helps you out a lot with your vocal practice and your breathing exercises

she sits down with you and counts each second with her fingers when hold your breath and when you try your best to hold a specific note

let’s be honest here. A LOT of your songs are abt her

you really don’t have to tell her, she knows they are. bc when you’re up on stage singing abt the perfect girl, you look right at her. and her heart beats faster every time

sometimes you send her your lyrics like “what do u think of this??” and it’d be a full on poem abt her that makes her smile so goofy. kicking feet and everything

every time you get in the shower and start humming/singing her phone is ready

actually has a video of you freaking tf out bc you had an idea for a new song while showering and you stormed your way out the bathroom, wet and hair full off shampoo

“REYA PASS ME A PEN QUICK” “NAH WHY ARE YOU BOOTY NAKED PLEASEHAhH”

you had to mop the floor after that

— rotxo. ( acoustic guitarist s/o ♪! )

makes sure you are never out of strings to change

but since the strings are heavier from an electric guitar, he knows you sometimes hurt your fingers playing

so he bought you a bunch of finger protectors.

he’s a sweetheart, but those whack ass things he got you looked like this

yeaaah…. no. 💀

actually offensive he’d think you need that shit but you let it go bc he really just wanna be there for you

the actual definition of #1 fan

he’s on every concert

and i mean EVERY. CONCERT. front row, backstage, glowing sticks on one hand, phone on the other and zooming on you and only you

he goes to your house more than you go to his, just bc he always wants you to play smthn. and this way you dont gotta bring your guitar back and forth

when you’re together in your room, you get your guitar and he asks you to play some lofi style tunes

especially loves it when it’s summer and the both of you just lay down with the windows wide open and the breeze goes in and out. has a cool glass of your fave drink with a straw and he holds it up to you while you play

one thing ik for sure is rotxo is lowkey good at making beats/bases

the two of you have definitely made a few tracks purely for your enjoyment (like this)

many many many beach dates where you bring your guitar and he lays his head on your lap while the sun sets

taglist. — @rainbowsocks, @dearstell, @erenjaegerwifee, @neteyamyam, @lvrcpid, @grierpilots, @littlexscarletxwitch, @elegantkidfansoul, @anm3mi, @kachowness, @boilingpots , @lagoonabluebabe, @lethalvenus, @casiia, @liluvtojineteyam, @inluvwithneteyam, @syulangg, @junnniiieee07, @drugs-for-memes, @ilovejakesullysdick, @lovelyygirl8, @neqeyam, @ak-aaa-li, @sakura-onesan, @babyymeme, @gender3nvyy,

© to @divineei on tumblr; do not repost or steal

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙼𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽𝚂 - chapter 7: want some, need some.

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 - as wedding plans continue, you're struggling the avoid the reality of your situation, and a trip to the movies seems to only add more confusion.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 6.2k

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 - bullying, implied/mentioned drug use, angst

As the guys started packing up their instruments, you stepped up to the stage, looking up at them.  “Great job!” you offered— Eddie didn’t turn around from unplugging an amp, but you could see his cheeks rise with a grin.  

Gareth beamed at you.  “Thanks!”

“Where’d you guys learn to play like that?”

“Well, I actually taught myself,” Greg offered with a blush dusting his cheeks.

“Oh my god, really?!” you gasped.  “That’s incredible!  You’re so talented.”

“You know, I, uh—” Eddie stood up and spun around with a proud smirk, sauntering towards you— “I taught myself to play, too.”

“Yeah, uh huh,” you mumbled.  “Jeff!  Your guitar sounds so cool!”

“Oh, thanks— my mom got it for me,” he explained, then cleared his throat.  “That’s super lame now that I say it out loud.”

“Nah, that’s sweet,” you decided, gently colliding your fist with his shoulder in a show of friendly affection.

“I saw you singing along at the end,” Gareth noticed, “if you ever wanted to join in for a show as our backup singer—”

“Oh, nonono,” you shook your head, “I only sing in the shower.”

“That is bullshit,” Eddie pointed at you.  “You sang Wouldn’t It Be Nice with me—”

“That was one time,” you defended.

“— you sang Your Love in my van—”

“I— that’s different,” you mumbled, cheeks warming at the memory.

“And I heard you belting Madonna in your room the other night,” he finished confidently.

“What— you heard that?!” you whined, getting even more embarrassed.

“Hard not to when you were blasting the radio like that,” he rolled his eyes.  “I was halfway across the house and you were singing so loud— at night I lock the doors where no one else can see, I’m tired of dancing here all by myself, tonight I wanna dance with someone else!”

You jumped up on the stage to shove him as punishment for his unflattering impression of your singing voice.  “Shut up!  I do not sound like that!”

“You do!” he insisted.

“Whatever,” you frowned, crossing your arms, and he laughed a little more before getting back to packing up the band’s equipment.

When he walked away to carry one of the speakers out the back to where his van was parked, Jeff gave you a look— one you noticed but couldn’t exactly define.  “So,” he began, “you and Eddie are… bonding.”

“I guess,” you shrugged.  “We might as well try to get along since I don’t know how long it’ll be before one of us can afford to move out.”

“Right,” Jeff nodded.  “I’m glad to see you two are close.”

“Close?  Woah,” you laughed thinly, “that’s a stretch.  You saw him just now— he makes fun of me all the time.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Don’t,” Gareth suddenly interjected.

“What?” Jeff turned to him defensively, but the drummer only shook his head and kept unscrewing the nut to detach his snare.  “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“About what?” you pressed.

“Uh—” Jeff stalled, like he’d forgotten you were right there.  “Nothing— don’t worry about it.”

“Wait, what are you guys talking about?” you frowned.  “Did he say something to you guys?  ‘Cause I thought that kid was joking when he said Eddie talks about me at Hellfire…”

“He was!” Gareth agreed.  “Now can we talk about something else?”

“Dude,” Jeff frowned, “come on, she’s not an idiot.”

“Yeah, and she doesn’t like it when you talk about her like she’s not here,” you snapped.

“Sorry,” he apologized, looking at you again.  “It’s just that Eddie has always—”

“He’s gonna kill you,” Gareth sing-songed quietly as he kept working.

“Zip it!” Jeff warned him.  “You remember taking the club picture in 1983, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Well, even before that, but especially after,” Jeff continued, “Eddie sort of had this… thing for—”

Eddie’s shriek suddenly getting louder was your only warning before he tackled the other guitarist to the ground.  You gasped and stepped back, nearly falling off the edge of the stage, as they wrestled in front of your feet.

“Shut up!” Eddie warned him loudly as they struggled, and Jeff’s laughter made you feel more relieved that they weren’t really fighting, just… being guys.

“Ever since she took that picture you’ve been so—” Jeff started again, but Eddie’s hand covered his mouth.

“What did you tell her?!” Eddie interrogated, and Jeff growled as he fought for the upper hand, making Eddie laugh and push him back down.

You sighed and rolled your eyes.  “Boys,” you mumbled to yourself, glancing at Gareth’s half-deconstructed drumset.  You saw a tom left on the ground and picked it up, carrying it on your hip as you stepped out the back.  It was much quieter there— dark and kinda of misty with a light rain, cicadas singing in the distant trees.

Gareth was standing by his car with the open hatchback, and smiled when he saw you.  “Hey, thanks,” he nodded.

“Sure,” you smiled back, setting it in the trunk with the other drums already inside.  “Can I ask what you and Jeff were talking about just now?”

Gareth sighed.  “I think it’s better if you ask Eddie that question.”

“That won’t work,” you sighed, “he’ll just say something stupid like oh, wouldn’t you like to know, sweetheart? and then distract me by doing the most annoying thing he can think of at the moment.”

Gareth snorted.  “Yeah, sounds like Eddie.”

“Do you know what his problem is with me?” you asked nervously.  “Like, why he tries to drive me crazy so much?”

Gareth looked away from you.  “Listen, all I know is he told us we weren’t allowed to ask you out.”

“Wait— what?!” you sputtered.  You could think of a million questions to ask right then— Was one of you going to ask me out? Did he say that at Hellfire or band practice? Did he make this rule recently? Does he normally decide who you can and can’t ask out? — but in the time it took Gareth to walk across the asphalt to the back door of the bar, you only got out one: the simplest and most important one.  “Why?”

Gareth turned back at you with a smile on his face, calling out so you could hear him across the parking lot.  “‘Cause you’re his sister!” he answered before stepping in and disappearing.

You refused to acknowledge the way that answer disappointed you.

~

“I know it’s pretty casual but—” she began, looking a little shy as she stepped out from behind the curtain, but you cut her off with a sigh as you clutched your hands to your chest.

“Mom, it’s beautiful,” you informed her, and she smiled wider.  

“Really?” she asked, turning to the three mirrors angled around her.  It was short, for a wedding dress, and relatively simple except for the intricate beading around the neckline that followed to the straps over her shoulders.  “I just didn’t want it to drag on the ground, since we’ll be outside.”

Yes, the backyard wedding idea had been finalized— the ceremony and reception would be right at home, which was pretty convenient but also a little intimidating.  The budget available meant that almost every aspect had to be either DIY or some kind of shortcut: you got a deal on catering from Enzo’s because you worked your summer before junior year waitressing there and the owner still liked you; your mom didn’t want you to have to worry about being the photographer along with everything else you had to do, so your classmate Kate offered to do it as long as she got a free meal and could make copies for her portfolio; even the honeymoon was a bargain, an old buddy of Wayne’s had a cabin on Lake Michigan that he would let them stay in for the week after the wedding.

But, you convinced your mom to spend as much as she needed on her dress.  A lot of things can be done affordably, and a lot of compromises can be made here and there, but if she didn’t feel beautiful on her day then it would all be a waste.

“I think it’ll look really nice,” you smiled, “especially with some jewelry— oh!  Maybe a flower crown.”

“You don’t think I’m too old for that?” she worried.

“Mom, come on, you’re not old,” you dismissed.  

“But will I look like I’m trying to look young?”

“You’ll look amazing!” you insisted.

“Well, if you say so,” she beamed, twirling her skirt for a moment— it was adorable, actually.  “Oh!  I almost forgot.  I picked your dress out, too.”

“My… my dress?” you repeated. 

“Yeah!” she announced as she faced you again.  “Your flower girl dress!  You should try it on!”

But when she brought it into the changing room for you, you literally thought she was joking for a second.  When you realized she was serious, you could already see it— Eddie laughing hysterically at the sight of you, your face burning, having to spend the whole night in that abomination of a dress.

“Isn’t it cute?” she beamed.  “It reminds me of the dresses you wore when you were little…”

“I’m… sure it does,” you agreed, swallowing down your hatred for the garment when you realized how much it meant to her.  And yes, it looked just as bad— if not worse— on you as it did on the hanger.  But it wasn’t about you; it was about how happy she looked when you stepped out in the bright pink, puffy, fluffy, lace-and-tulle-drowned mess she picked.

“And can you believe it’s only thirty dollars?” she announced happily as you stood in front of the triple mirrors.

I can’t believe they’re not paying me for the trouble of wearing it, you thought, but you only offered her a half-hearted smile in the reflection.

~

When you returned home from the bridal boutique, as your mom announced she would go hang your newly-purchased dresses in the closet, you heard a frantic shuffling coming from your room; instantly you barged in and found Eddie kneeling in front of scattered photographs, a shoebox overturned nearby that he was trying to scoop them back into— but he froze as you gasped.

“Damn it, Eddie!” you yelped.

“I swear, I was just looking for a flashlight,” he raised his hands defensively.

“Really?  In the shoebox under my bed?” you snapped.

“Well— I was just looking under your bed for the flashlight.  And then I found the shoebox…” he trailed off, and you groaned as you marched across the room and snatched the box away— but he still had the ones in his hands.

You knew already what he’d seen— there were all sorts of pictures in there, nearly six years’ worth of Polaroids with sentimental value, but the ones he was holding were of Jonathan.  He was probably expecting (possibly hoping?) to find pictures of you naked— even though you’d told him already that you don’t take those— but instead he saw all the special moments you’d hidden away… which was almost as bad as seeing you naked.

“You said you and Jonathan weren’t that close,” he noticed.  “When did you take all these, then?”

You got down on the floor in front of the spread of pictures and sighed.  “Okay, we were close.  And then…”

“Then?”

“Then he started dating Nancy Wheeler.”

Eddie paused for a second, then nodded.  “Ah…” he sighed softly.

“And then he moved to fucking California.”

“Wow, Fucking California.  Sounds way cooler than the regular California.”

“Seriously, Ed," you rolled your eyes.  "And he said he would call, but he already didn’t call that much anymore before he left.”

You pulled the pictures out of his hands, stopping when you saw them.  The first one was Jonathan eating a cone at Scoops Ahoy.  He’d told you he wouldn’t be caught dead at the mall, but then you dragged him in to convince him to try their Peanut Butter Pecan flavor and soon he was just as much of an addict to it as you were.  The other photo made you sigh.  It was just Jonathan behind his camera, snapping a picture, but that was how you remembered him: behind the camera.

“This picture…” you trailed off.  “He was supposed to keep the other one that he took, of me taking a picture of him.  I don’t even know if he still has it.  He probably threw it out when he left.”

“Aw, come on,” Eddie tilted his head, “don’t say that— he’d have to be heartless to do that.”

“Well…” you shrugged, looking down, and he let the moment linger for a second before he reached forward and took the photos out of your hands, tossing them back into the shoebox with the rest of them before slamming the lid.

“Wanna do something fun?” he encouraged randomly.

“Uh, no,” you frowned, giving him a look.  “Not with you.”

“Let’s go to the movies,” he suggested anyway, “my treat.  I thought that new movie Legend looked kinda cool.”

“I… really should be studying…” you trailed off.

“Nah, you’ll be fine,” he insisted, “you deserve to enjoy yourself for a night.”

“And I’m supposed to enjoy myself at the movies with you?” you realized, raising an eyebrow at him.

“How do you normally enjoy yourself?” he wondered.  “Lemme guess: bubble bath, candles, and—”

“George Michael on the Walkman, yep,” you agreed, “I’m not even gonna try to deny it because I’m not ashamed.”

“And you shouldn’t be!” he beamed.  “I’m just saying, maybe it would do you some good to get out of the house.”

“I was just out,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, with your mom,” he rolled his eyes, “that doesn’t count.  How’d dress shopping go, by the way?”

“Oh, it was fine,” you sighed, “but you’re gonna laugh when you see me in my dress.”

“How bad is it?” he grinned.

“So bad, I look like a Peep,” you whined.

“Aw, I like Peeps,” he pouted, “so it sounds to me like you’ll look delicious.”

Weirdly enough, that was almost comforting.  “So, Legend, what’s it about?”

He grinned.  “You’ll see.”

~

He opened the van door for you, bowing and swinging his arm out dramatically.  “What’s with the showmanship?” you scoffed as you hopped down and walked past him, letting him shut the door behind you and dash to catch up.

“Can’t a guy just believe in chivalry?” he announced proudly, following you across the parking lot to the glittering lights of the Cineplex.

“I guess,” you shrugged, walking beside him to the ticket booth.  “If you get the tickets, I’ll get the snacks.”

“Now now, wouldn’t a true gentleman pay for everything?” he challenged, and you rolled your eyes.

“Wouldn’t a true gentleman wear unripped jeans?”

“Hm,” he frowned, “fair.  And I’m also kinda broke, so, thanks for the snacks.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we’re gonna have to share a popcorn,” you laughed, “I’m broke too.”

As you approached the box office, Eddie smiled at the gum-chewing teenager behind the glass.  “Two for Legend, please,” he requested as he slid a ten across the counter.

The kid, smacking their Hubba Bubba, glanced at him, then you, then him again, before sliding your tickets back to you.

You got a similar reaction from the guy behind the counter doling out snacks.  He actually stuttered a little when he saw the two of you and asked, "C-can I get you anything?"

"A large popcorn, extra butter, two sodas aaaaand… Sour Patch Kids?" you turned to Eddie for approval of your order.

"As long as you save the yellow ones for me," Eddie agreed.

"Oh perfect, I don't like the yellow ones," you smiled as the employee set the massive popcorn bag in front of you.

"How can you not like the yellow ones?" Eddie scoffed.  

"They're just too sour," you shrugged.  "I like the ones that are sweet on the inside."

"I mean, I like those too," he admitted.  "I like the blue ones, what flavor are those supposed to be?"

"I think they're blue raspberry," you replied, more focused on handling the sodas being handed to you, but Eddie took his and continued.

"You know, I never understood that.  There aren't actually blue raspberries, are there?"

You sighed and followed Eddie, drinks and snacks in tow, to theater number four.  "Not any that I'd wanna eat," you replied.

Eddie held the swinging door open for you, and you walked up the incline to the middle of the theater; he stood beside you, taking it in, looking up and down the rows of seats where some other people were finding their own places.  “Okay, where do you usually sit?” he asked.

“Two-thirds back because—”

“That’s where the sound engineer sits when they’re mixing the audio!” he finished for you, beaming.

“Y-yeah,” you agreed, beginning to smile back.

“See,” Eddie clicked his tongue, “I knew you were cool.”

You scoffed as you climbed the stairs with him up to the right spot in the theater.  "No you didn't," you denied, "you said you were hoping for someone cooler."

"Huh?"

"When we met at that restaurant, right after mom and Wayne got engaged?  You said you wanted someone cooler than me."

Eddie smiled as he motioned for you to slide down the row of seats first.  He didn't respond to what you'd said until he sat next to you; "Well," he sighed as he got comfortable, "I guess I was just trying to match your energy."

"Of relentless pessimism?" you grinned, and he smiled in agreement.  "Yeah… don't do that.  I like it better when you're annoyingly upbeat."

When the movie began, before anything had even happened, you noticed a couple sitting in front of you begin aggressively making out.  You clammed up at the sight, nervous in the presence of PDA, but when Eddie noticed, too, he just grinned and elbowed you to point it out. 

“Yeah, I saw,” you whispered to him under your breath.

“Check this out,” he returned, waiting for the right moment to feign a cough and then “accidentally” kick the back of the guy’s seat.  The couple broke apart and glared at him, and when you got a better look at them, you recognized the girl: Sally… something.  You never really knew her, but she was in your class.  Sally… Carter?  Cartwright?  Something like that.

“Hey man, can you watch it?” the boyfriend grimaced.

“Shh, the movie’s starting,” Eddie held his finger to his lips, and the young couple rolled their eyes and turned away again.

“Ten bucks says his hand’s up her shirt before the end of the first act,” you leaned in to whisper to Eddie, and he snorted softly.

“First act?  Try first five minutes,” he replied.

Let’s just hope she doesn’t still stuff her bra…

As the movie continued, you both were too focused on it to notice what Sally and her date were up to.  Though you weren’t sure what you were expecting, it was surprisingly dark— creepy, and unsettling, in that sort of… titillating way that movies like this could be.

Not that it was sexy!  Sure, the part where Darkness tried to seduce the princess was interesting, but it wasn’t like that.  It just put you on edge, and so did sitting next to Eddie.

You glanced at him every time your fingers brushed against his in the popcorn bowl, but he never reacted— his eyes were glued to the screen, reflecting back every frame that he was absorbing so thoroughly.  You almost had more fun watching him watch it than actually watching it.

Another thing you hadn’t expected was to be scared by the movie; you usually weren’t that affected by scary movie moments, but unexpected violence had you whimpering quietly as you hid your face behind your hand.  You looked down and inward, giving you a decent view of Eddie’s lap with his spread jean-clad legs and his chain hanging down between the chairs, and you almost gasped when you felt his arm wrap around you and pull you in.

“I’ll tell you when the scary part’s over,” he whispered under his breath, and you nodded as your forehead rested on his shoulder.

When you breathed in, you could smell him so strongly— in a good way, for once.  He must’ve sprayed some cheap cologne on before the two of you left the house, but it was nice; you closed your eyes as you took another breath, feeling like his body heat could just melt you, feeling the way his hand held onto your shoulder tightly, feeling his soft t-shirt on your face…

“Okay,” he whispered, and you dropped your hand from your eyes, turning your head to look at the screen again.

For a second, you both lingered, and you wondered what would happen if you just rested your head on his shoulder and stayed there, and he kept his arm around you, and you snuggled up in the dark.  It would be so terrible, for one, because… because!  Just today you were watching your mom try on her dress for the wedding, and now you were thinking about making a move on the guy you were supposed to be related to soon?

You grimaced at your own horrific thoughts and sat up again, leaning back in your chair.

“Thanks,” you whispered to Eddie in appreciation of his… protection?  Whatever it was, you appreciated it.

~

As you walked out of the theater, tossing the last of the popcorn into the bin along with your empty drinks and box of Sour Patch Kids, Eddie couldn’t contain himself.

“That was so sick!” Eddie announced excitedly, jumping up and down a couple times.  “Oh my god, it was just like a D&D campaign!  Oh, hold on, I need to make a campaign based on this movie, like, yesterday.”

“Really?  That’s what D&D is like?” you pressed.

“You wanna play now, don’t you?” he noticed.

“Wha— no!” you denied sheepishly.  “Do girls even play that?”

“Yeah, totally!” he beamed.  “I mean… not a lot, but Sinclair���s sister plays.”

“Oh,” you laughed, “so literally girls play it.  But do women?”

He snorted.  “Yeah, I mean… I assume.  I just haven’t met any.  It’s a small town, y’know.”

“Right,” you agreed.

Eddie stiffened up suddenly as you turned out of the hallway into the lobby, glancing down.  “Speaking of small town…” he trailed off.

“Huh?” you asked, but you were interrupted by a guy in a letter jacket walking up to the two of you.

“No way,” the stranger smirked, crossing his arms, “is this… the freak on a date?”

“It’s not a date,” you corrected, “we’re just—”

You realized mid-way through that you didn’t know the end of that sentence: friends? siblings? mortal enemies?

“It’s not a date,” you repeated again in lieu of finishing your thought.

“Well, that’s a relief,” the jock sighed.  “Would hate to see what happens to any girl that dares to go out with someone like you.”

Eddie just shook his head, but amazingly didn’t say anything— and you leaned in and narrowed your eyes as you examined the stranger’s face and realized he wasn’t much of a stranger after all.

“Oh shit, you’re not— Carver?  Jason Carver?” you realized.  “Gosh, you grew up.”

He looked way too proud of himself, as if he had any control over his own aging.  “Yeah, I did,” he beamed.

“You used to be the most pretentious little pipsqueak of all the sophomores,” you recalled with a laugh, making Jason’s smile falter.  “And look at you now… you’re not even smart enough to be called ‘pretentious’.”

He scoffed defensively.  “Whatever…”

“Let’s go,” you mumbled to Eddie, who took a step with you towards the door, but Jason stopped you with a hand on your arm that you shrugged off instantly.

“How’s your boyfriend doing, by the way?  Gary Thompson?” he asked with a shit-eating grin.  You knew he knew— he wouldn’t ask if he didn’t— and considering his… connection to Gary's affairs, it was easy for him to know.

“Well, last I heard he was cheating on me with a parade of other girls, including your unstoppable slut of an older sister,” you shot back, “but it’s been a while so it’s hard to say.”

“Hey!” Jason barked, stepping up to you.  “Leave my sister out of it.”

“Right back at you,” Eddie sneered.

That seemed to stun Jason long enough for you to grab Eddie’s wrist and drag him out of the theater— he yanked away when you were in the parking lot, rubbing where you’d held as if you hurt him.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he offered to break the silence.  “And I’m sorry he said that shit to you— it wouldn’t have happened if I wasn't with you…”

You didn’t say anything, so he trailed off.  As you got in the van again, plunged into that specific silence that only exists inside a car where two people aren’t talking, you gnawed your lip.

“He normally doesn’t get to me like that,” Eddie continued with a sigh as he started the engine, shaking his head, “it’s just ‘cause he did that in front of you.”

“You called me your sister…" you noticed quietly. 

"Yeah," he smiled.  "I like doing that.  It feels right."

And you knew that this wasn't a date, but hearing Eddie say that made you remember why it couldn't be a date— which made you feel guilty, and gross, for almost wishing that it was.

You started to get so angry, mostly with yourself, and when you got angry you started to cry.  You tried to turn away, to stare out the window so he wouldn’t see, but he did.  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, knowing your voice would break if you spoke any louder.

“C’mon, you can tell me,” he promised, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder— but you shrugged it off.

“We’re not family,” you reminded him.  “Not really.  You’re not my brother.  Stop acting like it.”

There was a long silence, maybe the longest you’d ever been silent with Eddie; or, more accurately, the longest he’d been silent with you.  You wanted to look over your shoulder and see what he was doing— other than driving— see if you could read the look on his face.  But then you’d be giving in first, you’d be admitting defeat.

So you just stared out the window at the town rolling by as Eddie drove.

~

Inspired by what Eddie said the day before, even if the two of you hadn’t spoken much since then, you gave Jonathan a call after you got home from work while the house was still empty.  You weren’t actually expecting him to pick up— you figured it would be his mom, if anything, and that she’d tell you he was out but that he would call you back, and then he wouldn’t.

So you were surprised to hear his voice on the other end when the ringing stopped: “Hello?”

“Jonathan!” you said, suddenly realizing you sounded much too excited.  “Um, hey…”

“Hey,” he replied, “it’s been a while— too long.”

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“I’m… sorry for being quiet,” he choked.  

“No, I can hear you fine,” you promised, leaning against the wall— since it was the phone in the kitchen that you were using.

“I mean, like, I didn’t call as much as I said I would,” he clarified, and you nodded with a silent ‘oh’.  “And I was gonna write, but… it’s been busy.”

“I’m sure,” you offered.  “It’s been busy here too!  So much has happened… I’ve been waiting to tell you.”

“Go ahead,” he prompted, and you smiled— but then you looked down.

“Actually, I meant to ask you something.”

“Uh huh?”

“Do you remember when you first got the Pentax and I got my second Land camera— after the first one got thrown in the lake— and we took pictures of each other?”

“Well, we were always taking pictures,” he recalled.

“Yeah, but— the one where we’re literally taking pictures of each other at the same time.”

“Oh!  Yeah, of course.”

You fiddled with the curly phone cord nervously.  “Do you still… have the one you took of me?”

“What?  Yeah, it’s in my album,” he answered quickly.  “Why?”

You tensed up.  Now you felt bad for thinking he threw it out— and you didn’t want to tell him the real reason that you asked about it, and give away your insecurity.  It might come across as guilt-tripping anyways.

“Do you want a copy?” he asked.  “I still have the negative.”

“Yes!” you said excitedly as he supplied a perfect excuse for you.  “Yeah, we’re doing this, like, self-portrait assignment in one of my classes, I thought it might be good inspiration.”

“Yeah, I’ll mail you one,” he offered.

“Thanks,” you sighed, “that’ll be great.”

“So… h-how have things been with you?” he asked after a pause.

You weren’t sure where to start.  “Uh, well, there’s this guy—”

“Oh?” Jonathan interrupted, before you could add that key step-brother detail, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Not like that— he can’t stand me.  I can’t stand him!”

“Uh huh…”

“Seriously, he’s— ugh.  You don’t get it.  He’s literally making it his life’s mission to irritate me.  He has no respect for my space, o-or my sanity.”

“Sounds difficult.”

“Jonathan, he’s an actual living nightmare,” you assured.

Just then, you heard the front door slam, and the loud voice of Eddie, because of course.  You were about to ask him to quiet down while you were on the phone (even though it wouldn’t work), but then you realized Wayne was with him— and you heard what they were saying.

“How did he even find our new address?” Eddie groaned.

“Well, I gave it to him,” Wayne admitted, and you heard Eddie scoff.  “I thought maybe you’d wanna answer him this time… a lot has changed, he’d probably like to hear about it.”

“You can tell him,” Eddie suggested sharply, “you’re the one that’s getting married, getting a stepdaughter— why don’t you just tell him yourself?”

“Well, Edward, I think he’d rather hear from you.”

“I’m sure he would!” Eddie spat.  “What about me, huh, what do you think I want?  Y’think maybe I want a dad who isn’t a criminal— and an asshole?!”

“Shit,” you hissed into the phone, “I’ve gotta go.”

“O-okay,” Jonathan stuttered. 

“We’ll talk another time, okay?”

You set the phone on the hook and tried to stay quiet and still, not wanting to interrupt Wayne and Eddie… but also not wanting them to know you were listening.

“I know how you feel about him,” Wayne said flatly, “I know you’re still angry—”

“Aren’t you?  He’s the one who got you stuck with me.”

“Hey now,” Wayne warned, his voice somehow both soft and stern.  “You don’t have to write him back.  But would you consider reading what he said to you?”

Eddie scoffed.  “What did he say?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t read it.”

“Well, read it and tell me what it says.”

“No,” Wayne snapped, “he wrote it to you.  You can read it yourself.”

There was a pause, and you heard paper crumpling— no doubt Eddie snatched the letter out of Wayne’s hand.  A few footsteps later and you heard your bedroom door slamming.

Wayne stopped when he saw you in the kitchen, setting down the rest of the mail on the table.  “Oh,” he said, “didn’t know you were in here.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, “um, I was just using the phone.”

He nodded.

“I’m gonna, uh… take a walk, I think,” you decided.

“Okay,” he agreed.

You rushed out the front door and crossed your arms as you strolled on the pavement; you figured it wasn’t worth trying to get into your room right now…

You killed some time, kicked a rock for a few strides, pet the dog in the yard two blocks down, and came back when you figured enough time had passed.  Eddie was gone— Wayne said he went for a smoke, but you didn’t bother to ask what he was smoking: considering the circumstances, you could guess.

When you went back into your room, it was totally trashed; Eddie must have changed clothes when he got home, because he’d left his dirty shirt and jeans strewn out in the middle of the floor.  His guitar was also laying on the floor with the cord dropped carelessly in a pile, his backpack was opened and there were books and folders coming out of it, some left opened on the desk, others just dropped on the floor as well.

Sighing, you dropped down to try to start cleaning up— this was a bi-weekly task now at least, picking up after Eddie if you had any hope of keeping your room in decent shape.

Eventually, you got the room mostly in order by kicking his dirty clothes aside and reorganizing his backpack, and your last step was the desk.  There were papers in the wastebasket beside it, and the one on top was torn in half.  Maybe you were naive, but you really assumed it was just a homework assignment or something, and you wondered how cruel it would have to be to merit that treatment.  However, when your curiosity got the better of you and you grabbed the two halves to uncrumple and hold together, you froze.  It was so clearly not your business, but you found yourself reading it before you could stop yourself.

Hey there Edward,

How are things with you?  I still read the last letter you sent me all the time, but I wish I had a new one.  Wayne doesn’t tell me much.  Last I heard, you were moving into a new place with him and some woman.  She’s got a daughter, right?  Are you friends?

I don’t blame you for being angry with me, but I hope you write back anyway.  No matter what, you’re always my boy.

Dad

Setting down the two halves, you furrowed your brows and reached in after the other papers.  Your conscience was screaming at you not to do it, but you’d been feeling like a pretty bad person lately anyways.  The first ball of paper unfurled in your hands, but there wasn’t much to see.

Hi Dad,

You can just call me Eddie

It stopped there, scribbled out and crumpled up.  You reached in and unfolded the next one carefully, since it was already partially torn.

Dad—

Stop writing, please, it’s pretty sad 

The next one wasn’t squished into a ball, just folded in half, and you unfolded it with a shaky breath.

Pops — yeah, we’re moving in with Wayne’s girlfriend, and she’s got a daughter, but I don’t know if we’re really friends.  We weren’t before, but it’s getting better.  Remember how I always wanted a brother? Well, I still do. This sister thing is kind of annoying.

Things are okay with me, and I’m actually going to graduate this year— really.  I heard from my hardest teacher, Ms. O’Donnell, that I did well on the midterm paper, so as long as I can actually eek out a 30% or higher on the final exam, I’m golden.  

But that’s not why I’m writing to you now.  I’m only reaching out because I wanted to ask you about my mom.  I didn’t see you two together very often, but you usually argued when I did.  I was just wondering if you ever really loved her?  Please answer honestly.  It’s okay if you didn’t, accidents happen.  But I guess I’m hoping you’ll say that there was something real between you two before you left and before she died.  Did you ever think about getting married?

I guess I’m thinking about it because 

The letter stopped again, right when it was getting good; you sighed, guilt for your snooping making your stomach sink, and shoved the papers back into the trash can.  You hoped that he eventually finished one to send… not because of the whole ‘he’s your dad, you have to talk to him’ thing because that’s crap, although you could appreciate it as someone who would give anything for a chance to write to your own dad again.  Really, you just thought Eddie should write back because he clearly had some unfinished business with him.

But, you knew it was also not even close to any of your business; sighing and shaking your head, you picked up the bin and carried it to the kitchen to dump into the big trash can.  The discarded letters bounced down, but the small papers at the very bottom of the wastebasket fell in last, so light that they fluttered down like leaves on a tree before they rested on top of the rest of the trash.  You sighed at the sight of two ticket stubs for Legend at the Cineplex.

You walked back to your room with the empty bin and, in a masterful show of restraint, waited about thirty seconds before running back into the kitchen and grabbing the two stubs out of the trash and shoving them in your pocket.

[reqxxyt]

talent i never knew

pairings: charles l. x f!reader

warnings: none just max being adorable :)

masterlist requests are open!

[unedited]

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

I grew up around music. Since I was born, my mother would play music for all to hear but not many paid attention so she kept it to herself and her kids. I learned how to play the guitar when I was 10, writing my own music with small vocals but I never allowed anyone to hear. 

My mom tried to get me into the choir group for high school but I refused and settled for the band group pretending to be a beginner. I started to take piano lessons and I began to fall in love with the instrument, the more I played the more comfortable I got with allowing people to hear, starting with my mom too now my close family at small parties. 

I met Charles in my last semester of college and began as friends before he asked me out and we’ve now been dating for half a year. After all these months, I’ve hidden my musical hobbies trying my best to keep them to myself only allowing myself to hum to music on the radio if listening to any. But now, I would introduce him to the family that will never stop talking about my ‘raw talent’ that is being wasted on pursuing a journalism career. 

“Nervous?” the smooth voice walked over to where I had been getting ready in the bathroom, I glanced at him through the mirror seeing him with a small smile. I only shook my head, wondering if I should bring it up before someone else does but I decided not to. 

“I feel as though I should be asking you that” I teased him and he gave me a kiss on the cheek, 

“A little but it will be fine once I adjust to it” he said before leaving the bathroom to get his shoes. I let out a sigh still debating but I dropped it, maybe this will be a pleasant surprise. 

later

“Mija, it’s been too long” My cheeks were pinched and I only laughed it off before greeting my aunt, not forgetting to introduce Charles. He gave everyone the same introduction with a gentle smile and those who wanted a hug were respectful and followed me inside the house still not spotting my mom. 

I heard a squeal and immediately recognized it as my little sister ran towards us giving me a loose hug before running towards Charles embracing him in the tightest hug I’ve seen her give anyone. I smiled at the sight but remembered why I came in here in the first place. I walked into the kitchen and spotted my mom cutting some cilantro and onion. 

“Hola mami” I greeted and she gave me a small smile as I kissed her cheek. Charles greeted her with a side hug offering to help out but of course she refused. 

“Y/n when are you going to show us your new song” my aunt barged in and I immediately froze into place not daring to glance at Charles but could already feel his confused stare, knowing how his eyebrows would furrow and his eyes would narrow not liking the feeling of being excluded but didn’t say anything. 

“Not finished” I shrugged, finally taking in the courage to look over at Charles. 

“The piano is right over in the living room. Give us a sneak peek” my aunt pleaded, I clenched my jaw ready to refuse before my mom encouraged me practically pushing me to sit on the piano. 

Again, I didn’t dare look at anyone as my hand landed on the keys. Before I heard another encouraging chant from my aunt and mom, I pressed on the first set of keys allowing my hands to roam to their designated places whisper singing the lyrics barely audible to a regular audience but considering the only other people in the room were my mom, aunt, and Charles my vocals shined through the room not allowing a sound to interrupt them. 

I finally finished what I had written and let out a breath feeling my chest tighten before I felt a hand on my shoulder, giving me a tight squeeze and sensing the tension in my body. I looked up and saw his usual smile but with glinted eyes, showing encouragement and support. My shoulders relaxed and I gave him a small smile, feeling safe. 

“That was absolutely gorgeous” my aunt complimented, running to give me a tight hug and having to shove Charles out of the way. I giggled at the compliment feeling heat rush to my face. 

I gave my thanks and the rest of the night was spent eating food while Charles kept asking questions about my musical past. I told him everything, feeling the most comfortable and safe near him. The questions didn’t stop after the party, asking me if we should get a piano and I denied knowing how expensive they can be. 

The piano arrived the following week, already built after a tiring day at work. 

“Charles I can’t possibly accept this,” I said shaking my head knowing inside I wanted to play my heart out, using every key imaginable. 

“It’s too late, there is no return policy,” he said and my jaw dropped. “Kidding, your only price is writing a song dedicated to me” 

“That will be all I will be writing” I mumbled as I sat down pressing the first key, feeling the vibration first before hearing it a millisecond later. My heart twirled and flipped, walking back to Charles giving him the greediest kiss as he deepened it. 

I’ll write the song later. I thought to myself as he lifted me up and walked us to out shared bedroom. 

[crushedsweets]

h music moon anon back again

what instruments do u think each creep would play? i think toby would play drums or something as an outlet for his emotions

tim plays an ancient acoustic guitar that’s missing like 2 strings and the wood is literally rotting (he’s had it since like 1999 and refuses to get rid of it)

nina sings. she defo had a yt cover channel at one point

unsure for the rest.. hm

- 🌙

oo. omg. yes. i like this. just a reminder that i really have no experience with instruments but i think its cool. half/most of these characters DON'T play in my au, BUT IF THEY DID....

toby and drums for sure, BUT realistically his parents would never let that happen in their house and he wouldn't really wanna put in the effort to get a drum set to the cabin. but listen. harmonica toby. yeah. not expanding

tim and acoutstic guitar but its fucked up and ugly and he only keeps it because he's attatched to it but its so bad

nina singing is also sooo fucking canon. she'd prob try to learn guitar at some point but then realized she had to cut her nails and callous her fingers, so she gave up immediately LMFAOO

brian... mmm... honestly guitar is pretty fitting for him too. he'd be one of those guys at parties who starts playing and he's so incredibly mediocre at it.

i feel like i could see like. childhood kate playing the piano cuz her mom wants her to. but she was always complaining and whining and getting mad about it, and then her life was ruined by the operator when she was like 14, so.. she couldnt play even if she tried

natalie also wouldnt play anything, but i could see her like having one of those fucked up out of tune pianos thrown in the barn that she found for free on the side of the road and had to get tims truck to move it. idk if anyone knows rio romeo, but how their piano sounds basically.. WHICH I LIKE. i love it.

jack and liek a fucking flute. i legit have no reason to explain this, but jack and a flute. bros lung capacity is crazy

sally and . yall know how lisa simpson is with the saxophone or whatevr. yeah. little sally with a saxophone half her size

ben also would not play shit, but i could see him trying to make music with like. the computer. i really dont know what its called but im sure u guys get what im talking about

NOW JEFF. jeffs parents would have let him get a drum set in the garage (he wouldve bullied his own parents into agreeing to it). he wouldve thought he was sooo fucking cool and soooooo fucking funny when he was so severely NOT.

liu and another like, flute clarinet saxophone type thing.. mayhaps the piano. something classy or whatever i guess

jane and the piano. cannot accept anything else.

lulu and.. the harp... her family was crazy rich growing up...... she plays the damn harp.

ann and a violin. cant explain it. sorry. but ann and a violin.

sadie and something goofy and like playful like a tambourine.. dancing around slapping the thing and her dress is all bouncing w her and aww.

dina and also something like classy i guess. im inclined to put her w the harp too cuz like angel wings and yeah idfk . but theres no way more than 1 of them plays the harp so ill put this bitch on the piano !!!

[chiriwritesstuff]

Random Headcanons from Random Characters in 'The Girl in IT' Pt. 1 - Joel

I'm breaking this into parts because my Headcanon lists are pretty extensive - this doesn't even break the surface for the ones I have about Joel. These are just the better ones, iykwim. Let me know if you would be interested in Sugar's list!

Ever since Joel moved into his new home (that he built himself), he goes to the farmers market on the weekend to buy Sunflower bouquets to put around the house, and he smiles every time he sees them on his dining table. This is the house he builds for Sugar - as mentioned in Pt. 4 "Gooey", to be explained further in 'Love, Joel' Pt. 3.

Joel, a self-proclaimed bad cook, took night classes to learn how to cook. Ellie doesn't like to eat fast food and always wants quality time with The Millers, so Joel made it a priority to learn for her. Sarah teases him about how it worked out for the best - now he can impress Sugar with his culinary skills. He's pretty good at it, because he's meticulous with most things in his life.

He goes to therapy - in solidarity to Sugar, who has gone to therapy for her entire life. It has helped him tremendously and is the reason why he eventually adopts Ellie.

Even if Joel has waited for Sugar for ten years, it doesn't mean that he didn't date - he did, and hated every moment of it. None of the women people tried to set him up with held a candle to Sugar, and he felt terrible for even considering another relationship every time.

He's a boxer briefs kind of guy.

He sings and dances in the shower. He uses a combination of Pandora Radio and Spotify - Ellie curates all of his playlists, including cover art.

The chambray shirt he wore to Sugar's birthday when she turned 26 is the same shirt he wore for her when she turned 36. In fact, he bought it at the TJ Maxx, just for her.

Sugar would write Joel little post it notes when she would give him things like water and lunch when he worked on her family's roof - and he kept every. single. one.

Joel is a reluctant millionaire - even if he worked his ass off, he's still pretty humble with the things he spends his money on (with the exception of Sugar). He drives an F-150, wears the same flannel shirts he's had for years, and uses the first iPad pro model - the big one- to redline construction documents. The one thing he does splurge on is instruments - buying anything Ellie asks for at the Guitar Center without the bat of an eye.

Speaking of guitars, Joel learned how to play Sugar's favorite song - 'Silver Springs' by Fleetwood Mac.

Joel keeps his hair long and curly just because of the one time Sugar commented on how he looks "dashing - like Don Juan" once in passing. The first movie they watched together was "Don Juan DeMarco". He also learned how to play 'Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman' by Bryan Adams and played it for Sugar. This is the moment she realized she loved him.

Joel has one tattoo, a small sunflower on his hand - where Pedro has his bullseye. It's the same place where sugar kissed when he nicked himself fixing their roof.

The song Joel sang for Sugar:

[tipsyleaf]

"I had to talk to you."

Steve Harrington x (Fem) Reader

(2.4k words)

Stranger Things Masterlist

Summary: Steve meets a very new face inside a liquor store and immediately in infatuated.

Content Warning: Heavy flirtation, canon divergence (Eddie's not dead idc what you tell me), Steve's in college to be a teacher (I will die with the thought of this man as a teacher at Hawkins Middle School), Steve just being silly goofy lil guy, Steve has bad eyesight sometimes (imagine him in glasses like Uncle Jesse's in Full House)

October 13th, 1989

Steve sighs, leaning back on the drivers side of his 1983 BMW. Burgundy paint starting to chip on the hood, the car becoming less appealing day by day. Girls passing by not even looking in his direction anymore. He was old news in Hawkins after people found out he had finally started at a college half an hour away in Fort Wayne. Just starting his life like everyone else did 4 years ago just wasn't appealing to most girls.

At least not Hawkins girls.

But at this point he didn't care. He was proud of himself for pulling his life together after all the bullshit he had been put through. With saving an entire town too many god damn times. Cutting his dad off when his parents divorced. Moving out to get a rented house with his best friend Robin. Just what he learned he needed over time.

Getting into a good school by himself with no help was just a cherry on top of the fuck you sundae he graciously served his past problems.

He was satisfied with what he had right now.

Dustin walks out of the new game shop in the newest strip mall to grace Hawkins. Steve looks up, pushing his Ray-Ban sunglasses onto his head.

"You made it out before, Robin. I'm surprised." Dustin glanced at the instrument shop a few doors down, then back to Steve. "You get what Eddie needed?"

"Mostly yeah. She's still getting her trumpet fixed?" Steve shrugs at Dustin's question and slides his sunglasses down in place again.

"She probably got distracted looking at something shiny and new. You know Robins crow brain sometimes." Dustin laughs, looking into his bag, shuffling a few things around inside.

Steve looked over at the liquor store at the end of the strip mall. Looking back at Dustin, he taps the top of the car. His head snapped up, eyes a bit surprised at the sudden noise.

"You want anything?" Steve asks, tilting his head back towards the store.

"Coke? If they got it." Dustin simply replied before getting in the back seat. Steve nods and walks to the liquor store.

The bell chimes over his head as he walks through the door. He takes in the warmth of the store and the radio playing over the speakers on the ceiling. Such a nice contrast to the crisp Autumn air outside.

He turns heading down an isle of assorted liquor bottles and bar accessories before finally stopping at the fridge. Humming along to the song over the radio, mumbling the lyrics to 'I wanna know what love is' absentmindedly.

Sliding his glasses down his nose, he squints at the selection. All the labels are blurry the farther he is, he steps forward rubbing his eyes and sure doesn't help with the florescent lighting blinding him from above.

'God I need to get my eyes checked.'

Opening the fridge, he grabs the 3 soft drinks and a 6-pack for later when he hears a metal scrapping and whoosh next to him. Followed by a muffled but panicked "Shit!"

Looking over, he sees the back of a squatting woman struggling with a metal shelf slipping out of one of the fridges.

Walking over, he quickly puts his things down and pushes the shelf back in. The metal shelf, cold against his warm skin as he reaches into the fridge, fixing the fasteners back into place.

An issue he's all too familiar with working at Family Video. The fridge racks always got loose and every time it happened he was always made to clean them up. He could only imagine the mess a bunch of glasses and beer would have made.

"Thank you so much!" The woman speaks as Steve stands up, slowly closing the door. Looking back, he finally sees your face. His lips slightly part as you continue talking, he can't hear a word you're saying right now.

All he can hear is the very oddly convenient Foreigner song playing over the store radio as he takes in every detail of your gorgeous face. From your shiny hair to your bright smile. The vibrant colored nail polish on your fingers you're waving as you talk. You're unfamiliar, he's never seen you before, but you're an absolute stunner of a woman.

Steve never thought of himself as a love at first sight kind of guy. But right now he was undoubtedly being proven wrong by the spark he was feeling, not to mention the nervous knot in his stomach.

"But really you're a life saver... Thank you." You stop talking, looking at him. Your face falls as he perks up, realizing he's just been staring like a complete idiot this entire time.

"You're welcome!" He spoke, choking almost over how inappropriately loud he was for a second. Feeling the effect of not talking to women for a while really hit him. You look down at his soon-to-be purchases.

"Full Sail Amber. Good beer." You comment, making him look at the floor and nod.

Crouching down, he grabs his things and stands cracking his head on one of the fridge door handles. His sunglasses fell off his face and onto the floor. He stands up wedging his soft drink between his side and arm. Rubbing his head with a hiss.

"You okay?" You ask with a slight chuckle. Bending down, you grab the sunglasses, Steve moves his hand, grabbing the bottom of the door handle to shield your head from injury.

"Yeah, thanks." Before he gets to put his hand out to take his Ray-Bans back, you slide them on his head with a soft smile.

'God she's so fucking pretty.'

"You're welcome. And thanks again for... Saving me from paying for a full shelf of beer." She turned down the isle to another part of the store.

Part of Steve wants to follow you and try chatting you up, but the slight embarrassment of hurting his head just keeps him from doing so.

He turns, goes to the front of the store and makes his purchases. Heading outside, he walks to his car, finally seeing Robin in her usual spot, the passenger seat. Opening the driver's door, he slips in.

"There you are!" Robin looked at him, her trumpet case in-between her legs on the floor of the car.

"What's with the face?" Dustin asks, Steve looking at him in the rearview, glaring.

"Shut up Henderson." He hands them their sodas, moving to close his car door when he hears the bell from the liquor store chime.

Out you walk, starting across the parking lot to a top-down red 86' Volkswagen Cabriolet. Steve freezes, staring again. He really can't help but stare.

"Oooh." Robin and Dustin both taunt him, making him sigh. He needs more friends, fewer annoying friends.

"She's pretty." Robin says looking at Dustin.

"Too pretty to talk to, apparently." Dustin adds, laughing as he looks back at Steve.

"I talked to her in the store." Dustin raised his eyebrows, pushing his baseball cap up a bit.

"You asked her out?"

"No." Steve watches you load your bag into the back of the car and start pulling the top up on your car.

"Not too late!" Robin smiled, taking a sip of her drink. Dustin looked at her.

"He's not gonna do it."

"No, he's gonna do it."

Steve feels like he has a devil and an angel bickering on his shoulders right now. His foot meets the new asphalt of the parking lot as you open your driver's door.

He's quickly out of the driver's seat.

"Holy shit he's doing it." Dustin comments as he shuts the door on them.

He stops at the bumper of his car, hearing your car engine click over. Music pours out of your open windows before you turn it down quickly.

The universe is screaming at him to talk to you when he starts hearing that familiar Tears for Fears song, 'Head Over Heels'.

'Please don't pull away, please don't pull away.'

He nearly sprints across the parking lot out of fear of missing his chance. Upon reaching the car, he knocks on the back window, pulling you from looking for something in the console.

"Hi..." He says awkwardly, approaching the window. Leaning on the door, he smiles as you smile back.

"Hi. You need something?" He gets so agitated that you smirk up at him.

'Why'd you have to be so God damn pretty?'

"Sorry if this is weird, but I had to talk to you." He started, finally being able to say something. Your eyes go half shut with a soft nod.

"Talk to me?" He nods, clenching the door frame for a second. "Go ahead then. Talk."

His eyes go wide in surprise at your sudden confidence. Steve stammered for a second.

"Uh... At the risk of sounding crazy or desperate... You're probably the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life." You can feel your body warm up as he gives the most genuine smile you've seen on a man in a while.

"Mmhm, go on."

"Are you by chance single? Or like... Are you even attracted to men at all?" He asks, sheepishly smiling.

"Yes, and yes." Your smirk slowly turns into a grin as he squats to eye level now, feeling a bit more confident after your answer.

"I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington." He smiles again hearing you reply with your name. "Are you new to Hawkins?"

"I am actually. I just moved here from the city and needed to stay nearby for school."

"Where are you going?"

"Trine University." His eyes go wide, the same school he goes to. What are the odds?

"Really? I actually go there too. Education major." You look him up and down. You never pegged him for the teacher type.

"Software Engineering major."

"So you're smart and gorgeous. Good to know." He smirks, finally feeling like himself when talking as your flush finally becomes noticeable. "You like movies?"

"What kind of psychopath doesn't like movies?" He laughs at your response, leaning in closer to the window.

"Lemme be more specific. The new Halloween 5 movie came out today. You interested in seeing it? Maybe with me tonight at the drive-in theater in Lafayette. We can have dinner after. All my treat, of course." He can see the sparkle in your eyes, that spark he felt looking at you before is still lingering around him.

"What's in it for me?" You playfully ask. He cocks his head to the side, leaning it on his arm for a second.

"A fun night out with a gentleman, I promise I'm fun." You chuckle, rolling your eyes, he knows you want to say yes. "Please?"

He'd never said please before when asking a girl out. It didn't feel embarrassing like he thought it would. You turn your attention back to the console looking for something.

Pulling out a napkin and pen, you quickly write down your number and address. Turning back, you hold it out to him as he takes it.

"I'm free at 8. And dress nicely. You're taking me somewhere decent after the movie."

"I'll take you to the most expensive restaurant I can find if that's what you want. I don't care. As long as I get to see you again." You laugh at his bluntness, it's like music to his ears.

"That won't be necessary. I don't need to be spoiled."

"What if I want to spoil you?" That caught you off guard as you didn't respond right away. He let a soft breath escape his mouth. "You like roses?"

"White roses." You reply, he nods, standing up again and folding the napkin, storing it in his back jean pocket for safe keeping.

"I'll be sure to remember that." You two just stare at each other in silence for a minute. No man's ever looked at you like Steve has right now, it makes your heart race from nervousness.

"I'll see you at 8 o'clock then." You look past him for a moment and back to him. "Tell your friends I said hello since they like to stare so much."

Raising an eyebrow, Steve turned his head. He sees Robin poking her head over the roof of the car and Dustin sitting on the rolled down window frame. They quickly hurry back into the car, noticing they've been caught. He should be embarrassed, but he fully expects their behavior from being friends for so long.

"Ignore them." Steve says, sighing as he looks back at you. "I'll see you at 8."

He turned away towards his car, trying to stay as confident as he was before turning his back. Reaching his car, he pops the door open, clutching it for dear life as he silently collects himself. Robin poked her head across the driver's seat to look up at him.

"You good dude?" She asks, concerned but also excited as he just nods.

You pull out of your parking spot, stopping behind his car and honk once to get his attention. Dustin pops his head out the back window as Robin looks out her open door. Steves head snaps up at you as you lean on your window frame, chin on fist with the most shit eating grin on your face.

"See you at 8 sexy~" You called to him. And then you have the balls to blow him a kiss before peeling out of the parking lot.

Steve silently gets in the car. Robin shuts her door as Steve does his. Dustin sits forward looking at Steve, who's just gripping his steering wheel, the adrenaline starting to wear off.

"Dude, she's so into you, into you!" Dustin breaks the silence as Robin nods.

"And I'd say it's the same for Harrington here." Robin grins as a massive smile spreads across Steve's face.

He starts excitedly thrashing frontwards and backwards. Enough to shake the car and look like he's about to rip the steering wheel from it's column. He lets out an excited yell, causing his two friends to laugh at him.

He let out a long breath, looking at them.

"She says hi by the way."

[moonlightazriel]

Symphonies /// Eris X F!Reader

Summary: The cellist in the orchestra caught his attention, Eris is mesmerized by her and he will do everything to be by her side.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 882

Notes: As my own birthday present, I decided to write, this one makes me happy and I’ll be posting the inspirations for the songs in the middle of the fic.

Main Masterlist

Another useless ball, where his family would just be shown around like a trophy, the perfect family of the High Lord, he hated those, how people felt entitled of him, of his attention and his time, he really rather stay in his house, in his peace and quietness, with the comfort of his thoughts than pretending like he had to do now.

Ladies and Lords would pull him here and there, wanting to talk, wanting to dance, and for the sake of the appearances he did, but he was growing tired and impatient with time, he had successfully managed to get away from a lord that was really interest in showing the good qualities of his daughter, saying she was the best option he would have for marriage.

Eris looked around, the fancy gowns and the soft music coming from the orchestra lull him towards the stage, violinist, pianists and one cellist in the middle, it was like the world had come to a stop.

The female gently playing the cello was beautiful, her hair was cascading on loose curls behind her back, the upper part was held in a braid and she was wearing a crown of leaves. The makeup was shiny and made her look like an angel. A corset hugged her upper frame and the silk skirt fell like a river around her, her manicured and skilled fingers moved up and down as she played the most beautiful symphonies and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Her skilled fingers moved in synch with the others, the music was changing its pace, a more aggressive rhythm, fast, people bumped on him as they danced but he didn’t move from his spot, sipping on his champagne from time to time as he followed the movements of her fingers, and how her head moved with each stroke of her arch. Her eyes were closed as she felt the music.

“Do you want to dance?” A feminine voice brought him back to reality and he turned to see a female dressed in a deep red gown, a smirk on her face, eyeing him up and down.

“No thank you.” He replied, turning once again to look at the cellist, she was the star of the show, he could only hear her and her instrument, the orchestra revolved around her, just like him.

When a calmer part of the song came, she opened her eyes, looking directly at him like she felt that he was already staring at her, those beautiful eyes, shining like the lights hanging above her head, they made his knees weak, and in that moment he knew he had to at least learn her name.

The aggressive pace came back again as the song came closer to its end, and a sweet smile adorned her lips as she closed her eyes again, too focused on her magic, he could drown in the sight of her playing for the rest of his life. She looked like a goddess and he was ready to be her most loyal servant.

Through the night, people tried to get him to dance or talk, but he was rutted in place, not daring to miss anything from her. Every once in a while, she would look at him and smile, making his chest warm and his blood boil in the best of ways.

One by one, people started to clear the ballroom, until the only ones standing there were him and the orchestra. They were starting to pack their things when he approached them again.

“Can I ask for something special?” They turned to him, and the female approached him.

“Whatever the High Lord’s son needs.” He nodded to the rest of the orchestra, they had been noticing how the lord looked at Y/N the whole night, so they sat again, whispering to each other, and the pianist started to play a soft melody.

“Will you dance with me?” He asked her, a red blush spread across her cheeks as Eris extended his hand to her, she shyly nodded, placing her warm and calloused hand on top of his.

He pulled her close, his other hand resting on her small back while she rested her other hand on his chest, the music moved the two in a silent dance through the empty ballroom. He spun her around, in a dance that every autumn member knew, the way they fit against each other, it couldn’t be a coincidence. Her friends watched as she danced with him, proud gazes turned her away as they watched the big grin involuntarily take place on her features.

“A beautiful lady must have a beautiful name.” He said as they moved around the room.

“I’m Y/N.” Her voice was sweet, like a late in the night breeze. He nodded, repeating her name like he would forget if he didn’t do it. She liked how it sounded coming from his lips.

“Y/N, would you give me the honour of meeting you again sometime?” He asked, feeling suddenly nervous, something about her made his whole body shake in anxiety.

“I would love to, Lord Eris.” The way she spoke his name, that was the moment he knew he was destined to be with her, for the rest of his life.

[never-gonna-danse-again]

favourite DCR songs

Because here, we think about the important stuff.

(fyi these are for the base game permanent companions, but if you want to hear about any others let me know :)

Cait: Whole Lotta Shaking Goin' On

I can't actually think of a reason she'd like this it just speaks to me. You can't deny that Big Maybelle would start playing and you'd suddenly look over to see her having a tiny dance and humming along. At higher affinity she's ask you to sing with her; a true honour

Codsworth : Way Back Home

Let's be real, Codsworth is a robot made to serve who has been stuck in the same house for two hundred years, all alone. When Sole starts bringing people back to Sanctuary and renovating the whole town, it was the best thing that had happened to him since pre-war life. He can help people, he can fulfil his duty as a Mr. Handy, and this song lets him reflect on how far he's come

Curie: Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

She loves Ella Fitzgerald's voice, deeming her an angel (in a french accent, this will sound cute idk) and always asks questions to Sole about how they played the instruments, an art that has since become almost extinct after the war. Sole promises one day they'll try and find a guitar and learn the song for her

Danse: One More Tomorrow

This was him and Cutler's song. Back in Rivet City, they shared a flat somewhere in the complex, and they found a record left behind from the previous owner (one of the tiny ones with like two songs on). Other than the Muddy Rudder, there wasn't too much to do, so One More Tomorrow was often played on repeat. Cutler taught him how to dance to this song, and it remains as his favourite because it helps him remember how he used to laugh and smile back when they were younger

Deacon: Sixty Minute Man

100% hears this song come on the radio and proceeds to give Sole the most childish side eye known to man. He knows full well what the songs is about, but always manages to put some stupid spin on the lyrics and has danced his way away from a super mutant suicider to it.

Hancock: I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire

One of the few memories he still recalls from his childhood is him and his mother playing while this songs plays somewhere in the background; it makes him feel happy, though after so much chem abuse, he can't really understand why. He doesn't remember her face, but always imagines her voice singing along with him to every line.

MacCready: The Wanderer

Absolutely vibes with it, and though he hasn't been around with as many women as the song details, he's been roaming the wastes all his life. He's not quite ready to settle down because he's still trying to recover from Lucy's loss, and The Wanderer speaks to him and his nomadic spirit, letting him know it's okay that things turned out this way.

Valentine: The End of the World

one of his pre-war favourites inherited from his namesake, who attended ballroom dances with Jennifer every Tuesday evening; they loved the slow sway of this song, and even now Nick can't seem to shake the urge to turn it right up from Sole's Pip-Boy whenever it comes on. Can be heard humming it if you listen closely enough in Sanctuary

Piper: Personality

She's always been a great judge of character, even since she was a girl, so understandably, personality's pretty important to her. Her and Deacon duet it while travelling/ in a bar and have gotten surprisingly good at harmonies; Shaun's been trying to fix up an old karaoke machine for them so they can grace the whole of Sanctuary with a personal concert.

Preston: Good Rockin' Tonight

his old Minutemen buddies made a whole routine to this song after he told them he liked it; there's a lot of sentimentality attached to it for him, and doesn't hesitate to make new drunken mistakes to the song, if not just for them.

Strong: Butcher Pete

Strong likes Butcher Pete because he eats people. Butcher Pete is one of his number one idols because of this fact

X6: he claims to hate the station and insists that he much prefers the Classical Station, but really, he secretly loves Pistol Packin' Mama. How does Sole figure this out? They walk in to see him bobbing his head along with the music and singing the odd chorus while he mods his rifle. Most embarrassing moment of his life, but hilarious for the rest of Sanctuary.

[the-six-that-thrive-if]

ok ok ok i read the phrase “lovebug” in that pet name ask and SPRINTED to the askbox to kindly request some fluffy facts abt the ros im obsessed 🤲🏼🤲🏼🤲🏼

CUTE FLUFF FACTS WITH LIs

THE ANGEL often sings for you or with you, because she can play a range of different string instruments. She loves simply sitting in the gardens and singing to you.

THE WARDEN knows how to play the piano and cello, and has a grand piano in his bedroom that you'll hear him late at night, since he doesn't sleep.

THE DEMON [DANTE] cannot cook. Could burn down a house trying to boil an egg. But he doesn't really care, since he hasn't ever needed to cook until he met you. He wants to cook food for you—he so badly wants to be a househusband for you—so he's been secretly trying to learn.

THE ARMADILLO can't read. He can speak and talk like 3 different languages, yet he cannot read. And no one knows that he can't read, he's done well to hide it. But he loves listening to people read, so if you're ever reading, he'll get real close and peek over your shoulder. (He's just so cute. Ugh)

THE DRAGON has a long ass tail and if you ever sit next to her, she's casually wrapping her tail around you and having the end of it rest on your lap.

THE KING [RO] loves making sure you look your best. From fixing the ends of your shirt, to your hair, to your makeup, anything and everything. And before you leave, he'll cup your face and press a gentle kiss to your nose or lips, before saying "see you later." He tries to not say goodbye.

✦ DEMO ✦ PATREON ✦ DONATE ✦ DISCORD ✦

[reotacchii]

hello!! may i request gepard x child!reader?? (platonic ofc) reader is around 13-14 years old

From Me to You

pairings : gepard landau x child!gn!reader

genre : headcanons, platonic, FATHER AND CHILD BONDING !!!

a/n : dear anon, i'm truly grateful for this request. As my motivation were about to drop, this somehow bring me back to joy and happiness to write more 💗. If this isn't met to your likings, always feel free to shot another req on my askbox, can't wait to see more req in the future 💕

"A child was never apart of my plan, " the Captain exclaimed. A child with a look of purity and innocence stares at their so-called father confused, unexpect with such of a response.

"But with you, I would like to learn how to love"

★ - The captain, Gepard, found you near at one of the Silvermane Guard post. A child yet teenager-like figure that seem lost, unknowingly the exact fact of their own location.

★ - His first instinct were to ask you where's your parent and your house located, but you refused. You have your own reason to not telling due to the past on that house so you left by running away from it.

★ - It became a small arguments between the guard of what to do with you, but worriness took over Gepard and so he decided to taking care of you.

★ - You weren't that exact innocent type of a child as your age itself lands on a rebellious phase (supported by the mark of puberty). You completely wary and aware of who's taking care of you, you are more than worried that the one who's taking care of you would be so strict and uptight just like your own parent.

★ - Or moreso, as the Belobog's citizen, you heard once or two about the Landau family so you are afraid you might get opposed or being another outcast.

★ - but those thought soon crumbled into pieces, Gepard fully taking care of you, so caring, yet protective on his own way; the complete opposite side he is from work.

★ - whenever he's back from patrolling or mission, he'll makes sure to bring you some gift; each day differs to see which one you like the most. That way he learnt your likings

★ - Also your food schedule, you refused to open up to him about kind of food, but with his previoud kindness, you can't help but to tell him the food you've always wanted to eat ever since you are a kid.

★ - No further a do, he'll run like a speed to go to the store that sells your favorite food.

★ - Each time you feel sad, he'll always be there to support your back by giving you a plenty of hugs.

★ - He might also keep a track of each hobbies you do during his free time, and he'll makes sure to also involved in it so you both could have a quality time together

★ - Maybe he wasn't a bad person like you thought at first.

★ - As the time progressed, you'll clinging onto his back or his feet if he came back from patrolling. He's also willing to give you a piggyback ride across the Administrative District so he could always hear your giggle and little laughs whenever he jokingly speds up his pace.

★ - Whenever he was patrolling, he began to comfortable enough to entrust you in Serval workshop, he put a lot of faith in his sister to babysits you instead of passing it on other hand. He can't bare to have you missing to someone else so he trusted the babysits on someone he knows the most.

★ - Oh! Did I mention before that Serval is genuinely the best aunt right there, she taught you how to connect a couple of devices, basic mechanic problem fixes, and she even got you into musical instrument! You also got to learn on how to singing from her.

★ - Gepard is completely in shocked when he got to know you doing all these in his sister workshop.

★ - But soon his fazed would turn into a proud feelings in his chest, you have a good future and thats what his goal meant from being a Silvermane Guard Captain; to protect the Belobog generation and future.

★ - You both exchanging a lullaby before you sleep; though Gepard isn't the exact best at singing, you always loved it and that gives Gepard an exact confidence to always doing it with you.

★ - "Hmm.. Hmm.. Hmm.." you hummed along with Gepard lullaby, fighting the urges to sleep but a yawn continued,

★ - "It's the little y/n need to sleep?" he warmly said, putting a blanket and ensure you are wrapped warm, safe and securely.

★ - "*yawn* mhm.. Good night, dad," the word 'dad' wasn't intentional, but your subsconcious made you blurt the word out. You weren't realizing this because you doze off to sleep after, but Gepard — oh boy, at that exact moment he feel like the proudest and happiest man alive.

★ - watching you fell asleep, he'll grabbing your small hands on his hand, somehow it made him feel so comfortable and it makes him sure that you always feel safe with him.

★ - giving you a kiss on your forehead, you'll smile lightly on your sleep.

★ - "good night, sweetheart"

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Reasons why I think paramedic is a really valid alternative universe career for Tomura/Tenko:

His mom spent many years comforting him through healing in a house that was slowly killing him. He loved and admired her, so if they hadn't died I think that Nao would have fought Kotaro for Tenko's right to become a paramedic.

It's canon that AFO gave him only half of a quirk, the destructive half. I think the scratch comes from the unease of his body rejecting the decay, so why not give him an urge to heal and protect people that he doesn't/can't understand?

He used to care for everyone, including the ones that rejected him. That's a great trait to translate into healing because he would do so without exceptions— I mean, if he learned for the right person and not AFO.

It'd be very good for him if he was able to see his hands as something that helps him save others. They're more than just an instrument of destruction. He heals with them, no quirk required.

It follows the main theme of social rejection he has in bnha. A kid with a destructive quirk that wants to be a paramedic????

It also parallels Deku, a quirkless kid wanting to be a hero. The idea is to break social norms by making "the impossible".

I think bnha needs to highlight more the health professionals btw. I miss Recovery Girl so much. She was an amazing character and she had an amazing perspective of the hero society.

Tenko/Tomura is special, the chosen one in so many levels. I love the idea of him getting a support role and accidentally becoming a main hero/player in the current events.

Tenko is very familiar with both physical and physiological wounds. I think it helps some people relax when they realize that the one taking care of them doesn't judge them at all because he is "a freak" too.

I love the trope of the caretaker that is not beyond hurting people if necessary. Tomura decided to take the hard road, because he can kill in a matter of seconds. He could, he just decided not to.

HEALING OUT OF HATRED!!! Tomura can be also very cruel, so making sure villains, heroes and vigilantes alike stay alive to deal with the consequences of their actions is petty of him. He reaaally hates people who bail out of their responsibility by dying. Dying is kinder, living is the hard part.

I think he would look amazing in the uniform.

He was the one who trained a dog to work with him. The dog helps him find people and then helps them calm down by staying by their side as Tomura heals them.

Your honor his will was enough to keep AFO away from taking control of his body for so long, don't you think he's capable of working his way on a health care program???

The end ;)