#but nope. nothing but misery for all of them

[ottoline-otter]

i've been getting back into emmerdale lately and it's just made me mad all over again at how tragically robert & aaron's relationship ended

[slytherinslut0]

theodore nott • may i have this dance?

info: smallish blurb for @thatdammchickennugget’s hogmarch challenge. prompt four. (i know im a day late lol sorry mari ily)

summary: theodore told everyone that dances weren’t his thing and decided he wasn’t going to attend the yule ball. when you agreed to go with cormac, he realized that he’d made a big mistake, and was there for you when you needed him most.

tags: soft and fluffy. shitty cormac per usual.

You should have seen it coming.

You should have damn well known that accepting Cormac's half-assed invitation to the Yule Ball was practically signing up for one thing and one thing only:

a one-way ticket to misery.

The sting of his abandonment wasn’t even the worst of it--though it did occur almost immediately, sneaky bloke somehow managing to slither off before Dumbledore even had the chance to make it to the podium to give the opening fucking speech.

Truthfully, you probably could have gotten over that. With enough drinks, that is.

The real kicker came after the bewildering manner in which he vanished into the ether. The moment he reappeared all the same, as if nothing had even happened, accompanied now by your ex-best friend, clinging to his arm like a fucking lifeline.

His smirk, so brazenly triumphant, seemed to stretch wider than the chasm between you, swallowing up his entire face in a painfully irritating display of mockery and betrayal as he shot you an infuriating wink from across the room, leading your friend through the crowd and into position for the first slow dance.

That was it. There was no goddamn way you were staying in that cursed room for even a millisecond longer.

If not for your ironclad resolve, you were fully convinced you would have set the entire room ablaze in a whirlwind of rage as you stormed out.

Yet, as you downed nearly half the flask of firewhiskey you had concealed beneath your flowing emerald green gown, a profound epiphany struck you: that wretched excuse for a human being didn't merit even a fraction of your emotional investment.

What he truly warranted, from the depths of your seething soul, was a resounding void of utter insignificance.

And with that realization burning in your chest, you pivoted on your heels and pushed your way through the throng, feigning ignorance to Pansy's concerned calls and Mattheo's mocking gaze as he reached out to grasp your arm, undoubtedly ready to ridicule you for being left high and dry before the first damn dance.

Your friends had warned you of this inevitable outcome, but your stubbornness had clouded your ears to their warnings.

You live and you learn, right?

"Wrong," Mattheo, Theodore, Enzo, Blaise, and Draco would have most definitely retorted in unison.

You could practically hear it in the recesses of your mind as you pushed through the large double doors and out into the warm spring breeze flowing through the corridor. They would have reminded you that sometimes it pays to heed the advice of someone who's walked the same path, that perhaps they were genuinely trying to watch out for you for once.

Of course, you would have simply scowled and rolled your eyes in response. You didn't need advice from anyone, definitely not them. Although…it certainly would have paid off to listen just this once…

Just then, in that fleeting moment of mental pondering, an intriguing thought popped into your mind;

Perhaps, just perhaps; you were the problem here.

…..No. Nope. Not even close.

You forcefully dismissed that nagging notion the very second it dared to intrude. No, you couldn’t, and simply wouldn’t entertain the idea that you were at fault here.

The reason you were making a hasty exit from the Yule Ball before the first dance had even commenced, the reason the echo of your black heels striking the cobblestones beneath them reverberated throughout the damp and desolate corridor, was solely because of Cormac.

If you were the problem, you’d be the one in there dancing with whomever you pleased, paying no mind to the feelings of others. Your Yule Ball evening was over. And not even the combined efforts of Godric Gryffindor, Professor Snape, Salazar Slytherin and Filch's bloody cat could have kept you from fleeing.

But in truth, if you were being completely real with yourself, you weren’t even all that bummed. A very large part of you didn’t even want to partake tonight.

Perhaps that was due to the fact that the man you longed to accompany the dance with had adamantly declared his aversion to such festivities, and simply decided not to attend.

But that’s neither here nor there at this point.

As you reached the threshold of the courtyard, your gaze fell upon the breathtaking scene unfolding before you: a moonlit evening enveloped in a torrential downpour, each raindrop hammering against the emerald expanse of grass with relentless force.

It was as tragically beautiful as it was suiting.

And as you were lost in the beauty of nature's fury, you were startled by a husky voice slicing through the stillness, calling out your name from down the hall. Nearly leaping out of your own damn skin, your head snapped to the side, your eyes meeting those of a tall, strikingly handsome Italian man striding purposefully towards you.

"Hey," Theodore called out, his voice gentle yet determined, "Wait up."

You rolled your eyes before you could even stop yourself. Force of habit.

“I saw you leaving,” he continued, his steps quickening as he closed the distance between you. “Are you okay?”

You met his concerned gaze with a raised eyebrow, a hint of sass colouring your reply, "don’t I look okay to you?"

Theodore's gaze caressed you, hunger evident in his half-lidded eyes as they roamed over your form with a blend of admiration and concern. Barely audible, a curse slipped from his lips in Italian before he locked eyes with you once more, a palpable shift in the intensity of his gaze.

"You look more than okay, Bella," he murmured, taking a single step closer. “Doesn’t mean you feel it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart quickening its pace in response to his proximity. As Theodore’s words washed over you, a shiver ran down your spine, your skin tingling with the heat of his gaze.

This was the man you’d longed to attend the dance with tonight. The one who swore he’d never take part in such idiocy. Standing before you, clad in an all black suit.

You didn’t even have a thought to question it—to question him—on what the hell he was doing here, dressed like that—because as you stood there, your temperature rising, you met his eyes, a mixture of vulnerability and longing swirling within your own.

“Maybe not,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, “but somehow…you make it hard to feel anything else.”

Theodore's lips curved into a knowing smile, and his tongue darted out to wet them, his eyes locking with yours in silent understanding.

"Then maybe," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, "we should find a way to make you feel everything."

Your entire body froze in place as Theodore slowly extended his hand towards you, the world around you fading into insignificance as if time itself had paused, as if someone had cast a spell on the clock. Almost entirely speechless, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his, the anticipation thick in the air as the distant strains of a slow dance song filtered through the corridor, emanating from the Yule Ball.

With a gentle smile, Theodore broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper, "may I have this dance?"

As your lips parted to respond, a whirlwind of emotions danced across your face, your eyes flickering between his outstretched hand and the captivating depths of his gaze. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of your mouth, your usually sassy self left utterly speechless, and with deliberate slowness, you surrendered your hand to his, relishing in the warmth that flooded your senses as he drawed you closer and into his embrace.

Theodore’s hands found their place on your waist with a gentle yet firm grip, pulling you closer to him as if to reassure you of his presence. You reciprocated by resting your palms on his shoulders, feeling the heat emanating from his body, its intensity seeping through the fabric of his suit jacket, igniting a tingling sensation in your fingertips.

You let your eyes trace a path up his strong chest, taking in the subtle rise and fall of his breath beneath the fabric of his shirt. It was then that you noticed the emerald silk tie adorning his neck, its colour mirroring the rich hue of your dress almost perfectly.

Utterly mesmerized, you couldn’t comprehend the way this man had rendered you so bloody speechless. You’d never have expected any of this in a million years.

Finally, you managed to exhale, your voice barely above a whisper, “you…you matched my dress…”

Theodore’s eyes softened as he looked down at you, a tender smile playing on his lips.

“Only because I knew you’d be wearing it,” he replied, his voice warm, a soft caress against your skin. “Cormac is a fucking idiot.”

A breathy laugh escaped your lips, mingling with the soothing melody of the rain and the gentle hum of the slow dance tune. You blinked, looking up at him through your lashes, finding yourself lost in the depth within the ocean of his eyes.

“You knew he’d ditch me,” you whispered, the words barely audible over the soft cadence of the music. As you watched Theodore’s eyes trace the curve of your lips, a flicker of realization dawned upon you. “You were betting on it.”

“I knew you deserved better,” he murmured, a soft swallow rippling through his throat as he spoke, his eyes shimmering beneath the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the rain-soaked courtyard. “And I was hoping you’d see it too.”

“Why didn’t you try to stop me?” you whispered, your voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

You thought back on the advice from the others. All those times Theo was quiet, just watching. Listening.

Theodore’s expression softened, a rueful smile gracing his lips as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “Would you have listened, Bella?”

You could feel the subtle tension dissipate as Theodore's touch lingered on your cheek, and with a gentle swallow, you met his gaze, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as you considered his question.

"Perhaps not," you replied, your voice as teasing as the grin gracing your lips. “I am quite stubborn, aren’t I?”

Theo chuckled, and you were going to leave it at that, remain silent and enjoy the moment for what it was, but as your eyes found his once more, a surge of honesty flooded your senses, rendering you momentarily breathless. The subtle rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips curved up while donning that devilish smirk of his, the sensation of his thumb brushing against your cheek—it was simply all too much to ignore.

"But, you should know,” you confessed softly, "I truly only wanted to go with you."

Theodore blinked, his gaze flickering with surprise at your admission, as if he hadn't expected you to voice your feelings so openly. But there was no denying the electricity crackling in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken desires that had lingered beneath the surface for far too long. His fingers threaded gently through your hair, coaxing your face closer to his, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin.

"Dances have never really been my thing, Bella..." his voice, a mere whisper, sent your limbs shuddering with nerves. Your fingers trembled slightly against his shoulders, the only anchor keeping you grounded in the intensity of the moment. "But I'd slow dance across the entire castle with you if you asked..."

Leaning closer, Theodore's breath mingled with yours, the warmth of his words sending a shiver down your spine. As he leaned closer, you could hear the subtle hitch in his breath, the tremor in his exhale.

"I was a fool...” as he hovered inches from your lips, you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, the tension between you reaching its breaking point. “…for not mustering the courage to ask you myself.”

You wet your lips, your eyes bouncing all over his face, your entire body trembling with urgency, with need, with hunger. You’d hardly even heard his words at this point.

“Tell me, Bella…." he breathed, the words longing for an absolution only you could grant him. “Will you ever manage to forgive me?”

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you leaned as close as you could possibly get, your lips just barely grazing against his, savouring the moment for every bloody second it had.

"Kiss me," you murmured through a grin, your voice barely above a whisper, "and perhaps…just perhaps, I'll find it in my heart to forgive you."

With that, he dipped low, two strong hands finding your face, capturing your lips with his, and you sighed, lids closing, reaching to forage into his hair. A soft exhale escaped him, the kiss deepening, and he cradled your head, holding you closer, his other hand falling to support your neck, thumb skimming your jaw.

You whined, joy glowing in your chest, and you eased against his body, the both of you melting into each other, melting into the moment, the sound of the rain and the rhythmic tune of the slowdance fading away in the foreground.

And as he slowly pulled away from the kiss, Theodore's eyes met yours again, blue orbs shimmering brighter than the moon.

"I’d spend a lifetime making it up to you," he vowed softly, urging your head to rest gently against his chest. "Starting with this dance."

[newbakerontheblock]

Bucky Barnes 18+

Summary: gym session with y/n’s least favourite avenger

Warning: smut 18+

With headphones, you was hitting the punching bag hard. Sweat dripping and breathless. Completely unaware of her least favourite avenger strolling in.

Bucky plugged in his phone to the speakers and music blared out, making yn jump.

“Seriously Bucky,” she shouts

With a sly smirk on his face he turns around and starts lifting weights. She walked towards him and stood in his view,

“Turn it down,” she said whilst crossing her arms.

“Nope.” He looks past her at his form in the mirror.

She watches him for a few seconds, watching the muscles tense and the veins pop in his arms. She gave herself a little shake of the head and walked straight to the stereo, unplugging his phone.

“Hey!” That made Bucky stop, he dropped the weights and come rushing over. “What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s too loud, turn it down. I was here first, have some respect.”

“Oh doll, you need to respect your elders.” He takes a step forward with that annoying smirk across his face again.

YN held her breath as his face came closer, she could feel the pounding over her heart and clammy hands but she couldn’t let him know what she was feeling.

“Just turn it down.” She turned away from him.

“What happens if I say no?” Suddenly his voice was next to her ear and she jumped. His lips grazed her ear, blowing gently causing her to shiver.

“What are you doing?” Her voice came out in a low whisper.

“I’ve seen how you look at me, doll. And I think that you want me as much as I want you.” His finger ran down her arm whilst he spoke.

Yn turned around to face him and looked at him.

“Bucky,” she whispered and leaned forward.

His lips crashed down onto hers with no hesitation, her hands finding their way straight to his hair, tugging slightly and earning a grunt. The noise went straight through her and her pants were getting wet immediately. Bucky pushed yn against the wall and the kisses between them were coming so hot and heavy and she couldn’t breathe. He started making his way down her neck and she clenched around nothing, whining when he reached her soft spot.

“Bucky please,”

Bucky gave a small smirk and carried on. He pulled her top above her head and letting it fall to the floor. Quick as a flash he takes off her bra and mouth instantly finds its way to her nipple. His metal hand teases the other nipple while she writhes around. Moaning and a complete mess.

“Please I can’t,” he took a little pity on her and dropped to his knees. Slowly pulling down her shorts and pants.

She stopped breathing in anticipation, watching every movement he made. Hoping to god he was going to stop teasing and put her out of her misery.

“Oh doll, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” He asked,

She nodded but it wasn’t enough for Bucky so he gave a sharp slap on her inner thigh.

“I said.. is this all for me?” He was stern but his eyes were watching her.

“Yes!” Yn felt like she was on fire and was about to combust.

Bucky attached his lips to her clit and ate her pussy like a man starved. Her knees buckled and he put her leg over his shoulder.

“Fuck!” She screamed across the gym. Hopefully no one planned on coming to the gym right now.

His cold metal finger found its way inside of her and her legs definitely gave out and held his shoulders for support. Another finger entered her and she saw stars, he curled his fingers in a come hither motion and her high came ripping through her so fast.

“Bucky!” She could barely say his name as she was cumming, Bucky never slowed down. Only continuing until yn was squirming to get away.

He stood up infront of her licking his metal fingers.

“Knew you’d taste so good,” he groaned.

He started kissing her again and pushed her against the wall, despite the orgasm she just had she was dripping for him. She’d always suspected he had a big cock but when he undressed in front of her she held her breath. She had no idea how it’d fit inside her, so thick and just perfect.

“Like what you see?” Yn hadn’t realised she was staring.

“So big, I don’t know how you’ll fit.” She admitted.

“Trust me.. jump” she wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her from the ground. The head of his cock rubbing against her clit. They both moaned in unison.

His cock nudging in slowly, and she felt the burn of the stretch. He was entering slowly so yn wasn’t hurting. But when he seated inside her fully she felt like all the air in her lungs had gone.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned against her neck.

“Move Bucky, please move.” And when he made the first thrust she knew she was done for, he’s ruined her for all men now. The intense feeling of pleasure he was giving her right now.

Fucking her against the wall in the gym, she held onto him tight as his cock dragged its way through her walls. She couldn’t speak, only moaning and whining as she felt another high climbing fast.

“You gonna cum on my cock? I can feel you squeezing me. So fucking perfect, this pussy is mine now. Do you understand?” His thrusts never faltered.

“Ye..yes..oh god.. yours!” Her words came out all jumbled.

Her pussy fluttering around his cock was going to make him cum too. He watched how her eyes glazed over with pleasure and mouth open as she let out small gasps each time he fully enters.

“I’m going to cum, where do you want it?” He makes sure to check.

“Inside.. fill me up Bucky..” she whispered.

Holy fuck she was perfect, thought Bucky. He leaned forward to kiss her as they both tumbled over the edge into bliss. Stars floating around her vision and it took a second for her to catch her breath. She felt Bucky push a strand of hair behind her ear and stroke her cheek.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“More than okay.” She gave him a smile and he realised that this was the most content he’s felt in many years.

Finally got round to a Bucky story 🥺

[takami-takami]

Accidents.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. suggestive.

warnings— daddy kink. predator/prey undertones. keigo being a meanie.

You wish the ground would just swallow you whole before his smug look does.

"Don't let it get to your head! Keigo—" You squeak, covering your own face with one hand and pushing his away with the other. Your palm does nothing to quell the mischievous laughing fit that your boyfriend doesn't seem to have the courtesy nor self control to keep to himself.

Don't let it get to his head? His head couldn't be any bigger in this moment.

He seizes the opening to situate himself on top of you with ease, keeping you caged beneath him so he can bear witness to the full extent of your misery. Your hands lie helpless, locked under his hold and pinned above your head to leave you wide open. He wants nothing obstructing his view of your dreadfully desperate squirms.

He considers locking your legs in place beneath his, too. It wouldn't be difficult at all to overpower you, but the butterfly kicks behind his back that ruffle the sheets beneath are just too delicious to watch.

Your bedroom has become a locked box of your whimpers and flails, and he loves it. What he wouldn't give to cage you here and throw away the key.

"Keigo...? Sorry, dunno who that is." His eyes roll in time with his shoulders, while that wicked grin never falters.

"Could've sworn you were just calling me something else," he sings above you. He purses his lips like he just can't catch his thought. Bastard. You'd be screaming into your hands if you had access to them. "What was it you said... What was it..." he hums a devilish, giddy tune, turning to catch your eye.

"Care to remind me?"

"You're an asshole!"

"No, that's not quite what you called me."

You huff in response, opting to stare at the ceiling behind him. Anywhere but that stupid, god-awful, pretty face of his. Maybe if you try to pull your wrists free, he'd take pity on you and— nope, still not giving an inch of leeway.

He notices your weak attempt. Poor thing, he thinks. You don't actually think there's anywhere to run, do you? Your halfhearted flailing underneath him is cute though, he'll give you that. So cute. Almost as cute as your little slip-up that got you into this fucking mess.

This is your mess, you know. You did start it, after all, and who is Keigo if not a man who finishes the job? It'd be criminal to not keep this game going for as long as it'll take to satisfy his instinct to torment you.

He's not a sadist, he swears.

He just knows prey when he sees it.

"Kei', I didn't— can you please just let this go?" You finally look at him with those puppy dog eyes. In another circumstance, they would get him to do whatever you want; but for once, he decides to be selfish. He's just having too much fun.

"Why should I? Don't tell me you're embarassed," he posits, as if you aren't the picture of shame incarnate beneath him. "Nothin' to be embarassed about, doll." He closes the gap between you, nose barely brushing the line of your jaw before he dares to have a taste. "Plenty of people would jump at the oppurtunity to call me da—"

"Hawks!"

"Oooh, yet another name and you still won't repeat the one from earlier. Gonna hurt my feelings, baby." Raptor eyes zero in on the juncture of your neck. When you strain to turn your head away from him, you leave your jugular completely exposed. He sighs. You're fucking helpless. He supposes that's why he's the pro hero, and you're just the little hare captured betwixt his talons. 

With a finality settling in his gut, he latches on and sinks his canines into you. You go limp below with the hitch of a breath, kicks slowing to a halt.

"You know, I think I like this." When his hands release yours, he's sure your muscles won't even twitch. Frozen under his spell, you are the moth to his proverbial flame; the rabbit in his headlights.

"I think that name is already one of my favorites. You'll say it again for me, won't you? Tell me..."

"Who's your fucking daddy?"

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Life goes on. 2994 words.

1986

The calendar looked the same as it had five minutes ago. Yet, you found yourself back in front of it, staring at it silently. If Eddie was home, you would have pretended you were at least there to get something from the fridge the calendar was stuck to. But you were alone to space out and look at the numbers and lines as if they meant something different.

A knock at the trailer door eventually pulled you away from the month of October.

“Oh. Hi!” The boy looked shocked to see you.

“Hi, Dustin…”

“Sorry. Hi. Um. Hi,”

“Hi,”

“Hi. So… How are you? How have you been?”

You looked him up and down. He was as you remembered him, though less sad, but not entirely happy yet either. You stepped aside. “You wanna come in?”

Dustin looked around Forest Hills with hesitation. Neighbours were out enjoying the cooling breeze. The heat of August was gone, September had just finished ushering in just a taste of what October would offer.

“Lots of witnesses seeing you come in. You’re safe,” you told him.

The kid looked back up at you. “Is the…”

You knew what he was asking, but instead of putting him out of his misery, you just raised an eyebrow.

“The vampire. That’s what he is, right? Nancy and Robin told me-”

“He’s not here,”

“Oh. He’s out? But it’s daytime?”

“Yeah. I can turn him into a bat. He’s immune to all that when he’s the bat,”

“Is that a good idea?”

“Are you a vampire expert now?”

“I mean… I am an expert in a lot of the, you know, monster type situations that happen here,” Dustin countered, putting his hands on his hips.

“So I hear. Come on. What do you need?”

Dustin followed you inside the trailer. “I, ah, love what you’ve done with the place,” he quipped as he drew a smiley face in a pile of dirt on the kitchen bench, then picked the leaf next to it up, spinning it between his fingers.

“Don’t touch that!” you squealed too late, grabbing Dustin’s hand and healing him before the Dendrocnide moroides had a chance to take effect.

Dustin’s eyes were wide, the panic sweeping across his face. “What was that?! Am I gonna die?!”

Letting him go, you examined his hand. “No. You just would have been in a lot of pain,”

“Like poison ivy?”

“No, like an excruciating pain that feels like being burned with acid. And it can linger for months. Flare up after years,”

“And you have it just laying around?”

“Well, Dustin, it has no effect on me or Eddie. And I don’t get a lot of visitors.”

He nodded sheepishly. “Sorry… Sorry. I didn’t mean to- I’ll… keep my hands to myself,”

“For the best. But the couch is safe. Sit.”

Dustin sat, picked up a throw pillow and hugged it to himself. He said nothing and avoided eye contact.

“Can I make you a cup of tea?” You added, “Not magic tea,” before he could ask.

He nodded.

You brewed chamomile and honey, took a mug of it to Dustin, and sat next to him with your own. “So, put my mind at ease; no new monsters for me to worry about?”

“No. Nope. Hawkins is… safe,”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

Dustin laughed out a strange cackling sound.

“…Dustin?”

“Sorry. No. No more monsters. Nancy and the others keep telling me it’s done. Finished. Even El says so…”

“But you don’t believe them?” you asked gently.

“I want to. I want to be happy that everything is going back to normal. But…”

“You’re scared. I get it. I really do. I know what it’s like to have the war end and be left to… you know, live. It’s hard. But he’s gone, Dustin. Whatever he was. There’s nothing left here of him. The gates are closed. There’s no way between there and here,”

“But what if there’s someone else? What if there is another way? Not now. But one day. What if we all grow up and have kids and they have to do this all over again?”

Dustin’s hands had begun to shake. You placed the mugs of tea on the coffee table and took his hands in yours.

“If we get stuck mapping out all of the ‘what ifs,’ we never get to move forward. And there are no guarantees. We don’t know if Hawkins gets to be safe forever. We can watch over it. We can hope. But other than that… We just have to figure out how to be okay.”

The boy nodded, tears rolling down his face. You pulled him into a hug.

“I miss them. I miss Steve,” he cried.

“I know. The grief never goes away. It becomes easier to carry though,”

“Can you make it go away?”

Clenching your jaw, you shook your head. “It’s better to remember. You don’t want to forget what love felt like. You don’t want to forget them. If this grief is the price, we have to pay it.”

You held him until he could take a shaky but mostly controlled breath.

“Do you… Do you know if you’re staying in Hawkins?” Dustin asked.

“Ah, yeah actually. Something about being here feels right,”

“If something happens then…”

“I’ll be here. For you and your kids,”

“Are you like, really old?”

You laughed. “Yes. I am. And, I have some other really old friends coming soon too. There’ll be a few of us to keep watch,”

“More witches? Or vampires?”

“Witches. Eddie is the last of his kind.”

Dustin nodded, considering the information. He wiped his face on his sleeve and picked up his mug. He liked the tea; you could tell.

“You can always come here, Dustin. Maybe not literally here here. But to me,”

“Where are you going?”

“Well, can’t have a coven of witches sharing a trailer, can I?”

Dustin smiled wide, toothy, and happy. “A coven?!”

“Yep. My very own,”

“They can come too,”

“Come where?” you asked.

“That’s why I came, actually. But being here reminded me of… Steve…” Dustin fished a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to you.

When you unfolded it, a black cat with bright green eyes greeted you. It was carving a jack-o-lantern. “Black cats can’t wait to meet you… Golden pumpkins agleam… Owls and bats guide you… To our party Halloween,” you read. A place, time, and date were listed.

“Will and his family are throwing it,” Dustin told you.

“To be honest, I’m surprised all your families decided to stay. Long ago, when my kind fought an enemy here, we left once it was done." 

Dustin shrugged. “Most people don’t know what really happened. Government handed out some pretty big cheques,”

“Most towns are built on graveyards, I guess,”

“Well, on that cheery note…” Dustin stood.

“You’re okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I guess… You should come to the party. And your… friends, if they’re here,”

“What about Eddie?” you asked, almost just for fun.

Dustin walked down the trailer’s steps, looking back at you. “He’s one of the good guys, right?”

It could have been a coincidence, but it was far more likely to be Eddie’s sense of drama. He came swooping by Dustin and you, landing on the coffee table between the mugs of chamomile and honey. You rolled your eyes.

“Is that…?”

“Yes. King of theatre himself.”

Dustin looked at the bat. “Um. Hi. You can come… to the party… but maybe… not like that.”

Eddie chittered and you knew the demand. You cast him back.

“Jesus, man!” Dustin screeched, shielding his eyes. “A little warning!”

You and Eddie both smiled stupidly at each other.

“I think that’s a crime! Public indecency!” Dustin continued as Eddie casually strolled naked to the bedroom, avoiding the burst of sunlight from the open door.

“He’s in his own home,” you shrugged.

“Fine! Child endangerment!”

“Yeah, he’s got you there,” you said over your shoulder.

“I’m going now,”

“Bye, Dustin,” you farewelled.

“Goodbye, Dustin! Nice to meet you, Dustin!” Eddie yelled.

Dustin was on his bike and on his way out of Forest Hills before you even closed the door.

“To our party Halloween,” Eddie read, picking up the invitation. “Well, that’s cute,”

“It is. They’re resilient, aren’t they?”

“All humans or specifically yours?”

“All of them, I guess, but these ones in particular. They just keep going,”

“They do… Will you be attending this celebration of All Hallows Eve?” he asked, letting his voice dip into a Vincent Price impersonation.

“I don’t know. Halloween is so far away. I have so much to do before then,”

“Speaking of, I scouted the whole area out near the forest gate. Not a house or paved road in sight,”

“Yeah? Cool. It might work then…”

…

It would have been a harder task if Hawkins had not recently had major groundworks and construction happening.

“We had to map out everything from here to bloody Fort Wayne!” the woman at New City Hall, Nell, had said. “So, you came at the right time. Now, which part did you want to know about?”

“Over here,” you pointed to a map Nell rolled out. “Near this forest, then out beyond that,”

“Oh, jeez, honey. You don’t want to be heading out there. Nothing good out there,”

“What do you mean?”

Nell sighed. “Well, Merrill Wright was all set to buy some of the land. Expand his pumpkin patch and whatnot. But after all that hullabaloo with the poisoning, then the earthquake… Don’t think he’s thinking on expanding. Take a lot of work to make that land good again… But… Looks as though you’ll be wanting to talk to the Klines…” The way her sentence tapered off suggested talking to the Klines was going to be a difficult task.

“They own all of this? One family?”

“Klines have been in Hawkins as long as Hawkins has existed. Guess they just… claimed it at some point.”

You couldn’t recall any Klines from before, when Hawkins was referred to as ‘the flatlands.’ Rightfully, the land belonged to the Native American peoples, those that coexisted with the land before British and French rule. How the Klines came to own the land was probably another lesson in displacement and colonisation.

“Where can I find them? The Klines?”

“Ah, well, Larry Kline is…” Nell covered her mouth and whispered the next part – “…in the slammer.”

You nodded and tried to look scandalised.

“He had some shady dealings with some… Let’s just say… unsavoury characters. Some bad comrades, if you catch my drift,”

“No!” you hissed, as outraged as Nell expected you to be.

“I know! Poor Winnie… When it all came out, she found out he was cheatin’ on her too. With his secretary no less! She moved right after. Not sure what happened with the land… Probably still sitting in Larry’s name… Maybe the government took it when he was locked up?”

Following Nell’s directions, you drove across town to a law firm that had once represented Larry Kline. They confirmed that all the land his family once appropriated now was property of the U.S. Government.

“And that’s a good thing?” Eddie questioned when you returned home and filled him in on the findings.

“It's... good and bad. Either they won’t sell it privately, and we just use some stronger wards and protections for now. Or, they do sell it to us and we can return ownership to the Native Americans and ask permission to base our coven there,”

“Can’t you just… make them… sell it to you?”

“I mean…”

Eddie knew what the debate in your head was. “A good witch wouldn’t make them,”

“Probably not, no… But, I don’t know if I am a good witch anymore, right?”

“Right. You’re better. You don’t tie yourself to archaic notions of a moral right and wrong,”

“Sure… I’ll think about it. They might do the right thing themselves,”

“They? The government? Of the United States of America? Have you fallen ill?” He pressed his palm to your forehead. “Are these visions from another dimension plaguing you?”

You laughed and pushed him away. “The drama never ends,”

“I prefer the term showmanship. The showmanship never ends,”

“Okay, showman, well let’s get the cards out and see what they say about magically forcing land back, yeah?” An hour later you were laughing at Six of Pentacles and The Chariot. “Can’t get any clearer than that!”

…

The room you were led into was sterile but still had a thick air of toxic masculinity. A family photo of the man, his wife, and children was up high on a bookcase. Dusty and never looked at. A crystal decanter half-filled with bourbon sat on the corner of his desk. No artwork on the walls. A pen with a picture of a pin-up girl wrapped around it, when the cam was clicked, her naked form appeared. He said it was embarrassing, claimed was a gag gift from the 1985 office Kris Kringle, yet never got rid of it.

“We received your proposal. That’s a lot of land you’re looking to buy.”

Resisting the urge to say ‘I know,’ you smiled and nodded.

“What’s a girl like you want to do with all that land?”

What, exactly, is a girl like me like? 

“The land is relatively untouched at the moment. There are neighbouring farms and a few private roads, but it is mostly just woodland and open plains. Hawkins has seen a lot of devastation over the past couple of decades. We would like to see the land taken care of. You know, returned to its rightful owners. Any deforestation or development staved off.”

You knew it was risky mentioning the ‘rightful owners’ of the land but you wanted this man, in all his white-collar sweatiness, to have a chance to do the right thing.

“Hmm… And the ‘we’ is you and your…”

“Collective. We are kind of like a non-profit. A charity. We all have other jobs, but dedicate our free time and resources to helping people and the environment,” you answered, reciting the proposal that he very evidently did not read.

“How does a group of…” He flicked through the pages. “…women. A group of women raise enough cash to make this kind of offer?”

“Campaigning… Bake sales. That kind of thing.” You shrugged and batted your eyelashes. It was a stupid and obvious lie but it fit into the man’s preconceived idea of the economics of women, so he brought it.

“Still… We’re more in the business of innovation. Indiana needs to keep up with the East and West coasts, you see. And, we like to see our proposals a lot more financially sound. There’s no clear way for you to make the repayments,”

“You’re not a business though,”

“Sorry?”

“You’re not a business,” you repeated. “You’re the government. Specifically, the part of the government that is meant to do the right thing for the people and the land, by deciding what happens to the land. Your objective isn’t to make money,”

“Right, but-”

“And, as far as you are concerned, the proposal is financially sound. The money to buy the land is there. What we have free and clear, then the rest in loans not owed to you. So… you’re paid. The hypothetical debt we get into and the repayments don’t concern you at all. That just seems like an excuse to not approval the proposal,”

“Miss-”

“No. Absolutely not,” you interrupted again.

“Miss, I’m going to have-”

From the moment you sat down, your hand had been in your pocket ready for the moment. You curled your fingers to your palm, collecting the dust. “Actually, I’m going to have to do this,” and you blew it in his face. The man froze in place. He couldn’t even blink.

“Okay, you can come out.”

You opened the lid of the backpack carefully sat at your feet. Eddie crawled out and looked around. He flew up and perched on the man’s desk.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you with a bat attack or anything,” you told the man. “He’s just here to watch… And don’t worry about not being able to move. I’ll fix that before I go. We just have some business to attend to first,” you said with a grin that would haunt the man for the rest of his life.

It wasn’t dark magic. It was… morally grey magic used for the greater good.

The man felt compelled, entirely committed, obsessively in support of your proposal. He felt like if he didn’t hand over the land at an insanely reduced price he might die. He would die. Everyone could die.

When you freed his body from your hold, tears rolling down the man’s face from lack of blinking, he coughed hard. He looked at Eddie with a frown.

“Who’s this?” he asked.

“Who’s who?” you replied.

“The…” but your face told him that you couldn’t see Eddie… Maybe he was going crazy. It was the cursed Hawkins land. He had to get rid of it. To you. Yes. Yes, perfect. Sell it off cheap. Get rid of it. And to a charity? Well, everyone would think he’s a hero! A true American hero! Maybe he’d even get a bonus. Yes. Sell it. Sell it. Sell it. “I think I can make you an offer…”

On the drive home, you pushed The Head on the Door tape into the deck and sang along with Robert Smith loudly. When the sun set and Eddie swooped through the open window, you turned him back and laughed when he refused to put on pants.

“Out of curiosity, little witch, would that freezing spell work on… say… you… or me?”

You looked over at him and his sly grin. “Is your mind in the gutter again?”

“It’s always got a foot there. Care to join me?”

End Note: Click here to see the inspo for the Halloween party invitations.

Also, I forgot to say this last time: the reason that Mel, the music journalist coven member, is haunted by Steve is because my IRL bestie @kookygranger (who the character is based on) reblogged a chapter and added her own little blurb to it. Kind of like fanfic of my fanfic hehe. You can read that reblog here. She has now expanded it to be its own entire fic (read here). It deviates from what my characters are doing, so it’s pretty much a Burning Yarrow AU. Obsessed.

As always, I hope you are all well and I'd love to hear your thoughts and feelings. xo Rhi

Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner

[acewritesfics]

Pal-entine's Day | Jay Halstead

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Platonic!Female Reader

Request: From anon for last years Valentines celebration. THIS IS A REPOST FROM @/DLMLUFICS.

Prompts: friend valentines, being stood up and surprise. 

Warnings: fluff. “Friendly” kiss between friends. Platonic relationship.

Word Count: 1,089

Jay Halstead Masterlist

©️ no one has permission to copy, translate and/or repost my works on here or anywhere else.

It's almost 10 o’clock at night and Y/N is laying on her couch, watching some sappy romance movie with a tub of her favorite flavored ice cream cradled against her chest. Just as she stabs the spoon into the ice cream to scoop out some more a loud knocking comes from her front door.   

“Go away,” she mumbles putting no effort into making the person go away. But as the knocking gets more incessant, she sighs sitting up and slams her ice cream on the coffee table. She drags her feet to the front door, opening it and is pleasantly surprised to see her best friend and work partner, Detective Jay Halstead, standing there. She hides her surprise and sadness behind a teasing smirk. “Your date didn’t want to take it back to her place?”  

“There was no date,” he tells her, pushing past her to go inside.   

She only just notices the stuff in his hands after she closes and locks the door behind him and follows him into the living area.  

“Did you get stood up or something?”   

“Nope,” he says, placing the 6 pack of beer, some welted flowers, and bags of food on the kitchen counter of the open plan space. After shrugging off his coat, he hangs it over one of the dining table chairs.  

“What’s all this?” she asks confused and still a little surprised.   

“I didn’t actually have a date tonight,” he admits. “I was going to spend the night at home, watching hockey with beer and pizza but then you texted me saying that jackass stood you up. So, here I am being the bestest friend ever.”  

“You didn’t have to do this,” pouting, she fights the urge to cry. She truly did have the bestest best friend in the world.   

Y/N was asked on a date by one of the patrol officers at the 21st. This guy she has been flirting with and waiting for him to ask her on a date for a few months now. So, when he came up to her a couple of weeks ago, asking her if she would like to have dinner with him on Valentine’s Day, she told him she would love to.   

Tonight, he was supposed to meet her at one of the slightly fancier restaurants along the waterfront. When he didn’t show up an hour after their reservation was made for, feeling hurt and embarrassed, she paid for the couple drinks that she drank and left the restaurant so another couple could use the table.   

As she sat in her car in front of the restaurant, needing a moment to compose herself, she texted Jay telling him what happened. She didn’t expect a reply or a call until tomorrow, while hoping he was having better luck with his own date. What she didn’t expect was for him to show up at her doorstep with some of her favorite things.  

“These are for you, because everyone deserves flowers valentine's day,” he says picking up and holding out the flowers. “I may have stolen them from some restaurants outdoor table. Please don’t arrest me.”  

“Depends on what’s in those bags,” she smiles already feeling a lot better than she had been five minutes ago.   

Jay has always had the knack for making her feel better even when she wants nothing more than to wallow in her own misery. He would never let her do that alone.   

The two friends met when they went through the academy together. They dated for a couple of months but ultimately decided they’re better off friends and have remained that way since. After graduating, they were assigned to different districts but always found time for each other. Now they’ve been working intelligence together for 4 years which has come with many difficulties in their friendship but has also made it even stronger.  

“I know you well enough to know that the ice cream on the coffee table is all you’ve eaten tonight so I brought the best burgers and fries in town with me,” he holds up one of the bags, showing her the logo of her favorite fast-food place.  

She takes the bag from him and opens it, instantly inhaling the smell of her favorite burger. It smells so good her stomach begins to rumble giving away that he was indeed right about her having not eaten a proper meal.   

“I could kiss you right now.”  

“I wouldn’t stop you. It’ll be the most action both of us have gotten today,” he says setting the second bag of food on the table and opens it.   

Y/N walks over to him, taking his face in her hands and plants a soft peck to his lips. “Better?”  

“Much better, thank you,” he smiles and goes back to removing the food from the bags. “I love you; you know that right?”  

“I do. I love you too and I should be the one thanking you,” she says moving to hug him from behind, her hands against his stomach and her head resting on his back. “This is the best surprise I’ve ever gotten and it’s why you’ll always be my number one guy.”  

“I’ve got to make sure my number one woman feels loved and cared for, especially after some loser beat cop breaks her heart,” he says and turns around in her arms. He kisses her forehead as his arms wrap around her.   

“He didn’t break my heart,” she assures him. “I just feel stupid for wasting my time on a guy that I thought actually liked me back.”  

“You’re not stupid, he is,” Jay reminds her. “Now let’s eat cause I’m starving.”   

Y/N chuckles and lets him go. She sits down at the table, pulling the food out of the other bag. Jay sits to her right as they begin to eat. “Best Valentines ever.”  

“You mean Pal-entines,” Jay says as though he’s correcting her.  

“Did you learn a new word?” She teasingly questions him.  

“I had to look it up,” he shrugs. “There was also Galentine's, but I don’t have the anatomy for that,” he adds making her laugh.  

After eating, they move to the couch to finish watching the movie she’d started before he arrived. By the time the movie finished, Y/N had fallen asleep curled into Jay’s side as they laid down to get more comfortable.  

Instead of leaving, he pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over them. He makes himself more comfortable, being careful not to wake Y/N. 

TAGGED: @mrspeacem1nusone - @halsteadbrasil - @allisonargent144 - @cs-please - @alexxavicry - @nicole-19s-world - @mimiteller712 - @qutequeersstuff

[yellowbluemoonshine]

Hi,

I see you finished Monster and are quite versed in Johan. Can you help me understand the depth of his character better? I feel like many people miss the point of it. Also I'd like to know why you like him so much.

Oh, there is so much to say about him but i will try to make it short as possible.

Lets Talk About Johan;

First of all, i heard his character as some 'evil' mastermind so i wasnt really interested in his character until i experience the story by myself. I wondered why this series is popular so i decided to give a chance. I tought Johan was like Afo (from Bnha) but he turn out to be a lot like Shigaraki lol.

What makes a character depth is if they are not one-dimensional, that there is a more than how they seem from surface. And Johan fits well since he is mysterious character who is seen as angel, monster, devil, basically anything but human but they end up failing to understand him because if he was so simple, police would've catch him a long time ago.

At the start of series, he seems like your usual dangerous serial killer which fits the psychological thriller theme of story. And one of the best thing in series is his connection with Tenma. A doctor saves his life and this dangerous killer starts to view him as parent figure. A killer who see no worth in life and the doctor who thinks every life is equal, especially saving Johan is the reason he starts to to be able to live his life as a real doctor. Only to learn the child whom he saved turn out to be serial killer.

Tenma feels responsible for this and goes to journey to kill Johan. During this journey, we aldo discover some hints of what made Johan the way he is. The irony is we get the hints and a lot of characters perspective of him, everyone except Johan.

Is his messages about 'the monster inside of him' serious or not? Tenma assumes Johan is enjoying this at first, then he assumes Johan has multiple personality disorder. And later when he talked with other doctor, he assumes Johan is just playing with him because thats what most serial killers do with police. This is interesting because all of those end up being wrong. Johan doesnt enjoy from killing people. Johan doesnt have DID. Johan didnt write those messages to play with them. We know this because we later learn that he is unconciously imitate the fairytale stories he read as child.

Meanwhile, he has fanclub. A lot of murderers admire Johan because they view him as destruction Buddha. Just like others, he is seen as monster but why though? Its not like he is the only killer in the world. And personally, a lot of characters are more 'evil' than him so the thing about Johan is; he treats human life as nothing. Not just other people but also himself. Thats what makes him so scary to everyone. He doesnt even do it out of joy, money, statue. He looks like the devil in human form. He spreads misery to world. (Thats why he burns library when they said "its humanity's treasure" LoL.)

To people, that is scary. When they look at Johan, his eyes, the see someone who has no identity (nameless world). They see someone who treats life like as a game. Which explains why many people are afraid of him.

Some also want to use him, such as they want him to make second Hitler and he is like 'Nope'.

I think the main reason i love Johan is that he is like a magician. He can create a beautifull illusion. He is someone who can touch people's hearths because how well he understands them. Which is why he is seen as angel when people dont know he kills people.

This is also why he can use other killers for himself. He can see their vulnerabilities. Because even a killer is still human and they might need acceptance, to be understood by someone. Johan can give it to them. And they wish they were like Johan because they think everything would be a lot easier for them to kill others, like some kind of edgy teens. They fail to understand the person they want to be is extremely miserable.

On other hand, Johan can use his skills with curing people. Such as him waking Suk's mother, he made her remember her son again. Though he does things with ulterior motives, same skills can be used for good things. He can make people happy or miserable by little things. With a little magic or just skill.

And even though he is villain, he has very relaxing voice. He is very elegant. He listens other people. This fits perfectly well with his manipulative character.

We also never know when he is sincere or not because when you think he doesnt he actually seem to care, such as when he cried for Karl. Apperantly, tears were real. He is always in his world, its so funny when you think about he is some kind of mastermind.

Also his interaction with kids is so interesting. I think he geniuely enjoys being around them. Otherwise, why would he bother to spend time with them, why would he know so much about child's rights, why would he look for picture book for a friend? This is the same guy who encourage kids to rooftop game (and the scene where he was projecting on Milos) which is messed up. It gives me chills. His nihisilism, him viewing life as game end up resulting him expressing love as twisted.

----

Later, everything changes when Johan finds certain book in library. Basically, Johan's character doesnt necessarely stay same during the series. He changes his motives from unconciously imitating nameless monster stories to find actual monster who ruined his life. Even though he does messed up things, everything about his character makes sense with that scene. Johan geniuely believed that he is nameless monster. Johan geniuely believed that he doesnt exist.

Everything about him makes sense because it explains why he doesnt think death as much of it. Because if someone doesnt exist, they cant be killed. If someone doesnt exist, they cant be responsible for killings. He is detached from reality. Its not that he didnt feel. Its that he doesnt view it as real the way other people does. Because Johan isnt there. This is the tragedy of Johan's story. He doesnt have name. He doesnt have identity. He feels as he doesnt exist.

The famous 'monster' tape everyone after is about a child unable to see the difference between fairytale story and reality. 'My name is Johan. My name is Thomas. My name is Hans. My name is Otto.' He is them but he is neither of them. Johan views Anna as his half, as Anna is the real one and he is fake copy. He killed people as child, not because he is evil but because he geniuely thought that monster is coming after them. He cant even separate his own memories from Anna's. He takes all bad memories both to protect Anna and other reason is to become someone. He wanted to have identity, he wanted to live so bad but he didnt have on his own so he took it from others, just like the nameless monster.

This is also why Johan is also affected by Tenma's saving him. He probably wondered Tenma wouldnt save him, if he knew he was monster. He was kinda right because Tenma regretted his decision but he was wrong because Tenma couldnt shoot him and he saved him the second time. He showed him that he has right to live, he has right to exist, and that he has a name so he is not monster. This is why Johan can open up his worst insecurities. And they really give father-son energy and i think thats cute. I am glad that even after years Tenma visists him at hospital.

And we can guess what happened at the end thanks to Grimmer (one of the characters who deserves better), 'The monster become human at the end'. and Lunge said that if he were not a human being, he would not leave a trace, only humans leave a trace. For the first time we see Johan leave his mark. So Johan is no longer a monster, just a human. Also, his real name doesnt matter, he is Johan to us/all.

I love the messages of story. There is a monster inside all of us, but we can contain/heal it and after all, we are all human, our lives are equally valuable and stealing a person's name is the biggest crime, so having a name is very important. Story still has certain writing issues but generally, it is good story. Johan is well written character because his story is such a journey. We cant even really appreaciate the story without fully understand Johan. Every scene he is in meaningfull. And personally, i think his story is very empathic because of how tragic he is. Also sometimes he looks so funny and weird which makes him entertaining. He is such a good character.

Though you are right, anon. Many people still misinterpret the story, especially his character but anyway, there are still people who makes great analysis about him. Such as this analysis made by @cyanogoth.

Its ironic that most/some main villains have the most interesting and sempathic backstories, even though they are supposed to be 'big evil' or something but in reality, they are not really.

Anyway, he is fun to think about, i love him, lol.

[theelderhazelnut]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @aceghosts @nightbloodbix @cloudofbutterflies92 @cassietrn <3

I’m one hour late lol. Okay so this is what I have written so far for the first chapter of “Rise of Villains: The Shadow”. Atoosa (Ombra) has lost everything, and she meets Raiden for the first time. (Güney is a minor character)

Also, this is not proofread!

I had never truly felt it until that night when I was sitting beside the road. I had never wished to be anyone else, even that middle-aged man making tea for his customers, but this lost little girl. What did people do when their parents are suddenly killed in an airpalne shot by two rockets, and when they were suddenly left with nothing but an old luggage?

I stared at my fingers, trying so hard not to bury my face in them because then my life would magically go deeper into this abyss. What was I supposed to do really? A psychiatry student in a foreign country who had lost her financial support last week and her rented apartment this morning.

I went into my pocket to check the time, but remembered that my phone had just died. I took a deep breath to protect my sanity for just a few more seconds until I arrive at the restaurant, the temporary workplace I opt because I wanted to be this independent woman. The money it provided me for working there part-time would never heal any scars, but it was better that nothing. But now it was everything I had left.

I pushed glass door open after walking for fifteen minutes, and dragged my luggage behind me. There were only two couples left out of all the customers. Güney, the cashier, looked at me up and down.

“Where are you going?” He continued chewing his gum while his dark eyes were begging to be shut.

“Can I stay the night?” It was weird to hear my own voice after hours of silence in the pavement. Also when I was trying to hide the pleading tone shaking my voice.

“Uuum-yeah you can sleep in the kitchen, but why? Are you okay?” He raised his eyebrows in concern.

Güney was never the friendliest collaege to me, and I definitely did not need his sympathy right then.

“I-my landlord kicked me out I’ll just stay one night I promise I’ll fix everything and-“

“What do you mean he kicked you out?!”

“Because I didn’t pay the rent.” Even talking about what happened this morning made me feel ill and dizzy. I shook my head and walked up to the kitchen.

“You could stay at my place.” He offered in a low, cautious tone, standing awkwardly in the doorframe. Trusting a stranger I see almost everyday? Nope. Never.

I stared at him dead in the eyes. “I’m good. Thank you.”

He creeped out of the dark room with measured steps. And I was, once again, left alone. I sat on the counter for the next couple of minutes, staring at the distance while the fridge continuously beezed in my ears. I would lie if I claimed that I wasn’t scared to be all alone in a restaurant at midnight. Surely, the doors were locked, but my mind was a bastard who enjoyed visualizing diverse scenarios of a psychopath suddenly breaking in. Fortunately, the knives and axes were at reach, hanging gravely from the rank.

I tightened my grip around the edge of the counter. I could hear the already ruined house of my life collapsing into the deep abyss of misery. I would turn into a poor girl drowning in povert while she carries her dead dreams on her hunched shoulders. I would be useless. I would fail.

A vague, booming sound from afar rang in my ears. I found myself totally frozen when I only moved my eyeballs towards the door. I greeted my teeth as though it would magically create a shield for me. The sound was heard again; now three times in a row like knocking. I held my breath to hear every single noise resembling footsteps.

Knocking again. In utter silence, I picked one of the huge knives, and [walking silently] out of the kitchen. White knuckling the handle, my nails were penetrating my sweaty palm.

Before I knew it, a thunder striked just a few meters away. My eyes went blind and my ears went deaf for a brief moment, my heart skipping a beat. I stumbled, but maintained my balance by holding onto one of the tables. Gathering my mind, I aimed the tip of the knife to where it just exploded. But to my shock, evrything was in its place. Not even a single crack could be seen on the windows.

Instead, there stood a tall, masculine figure. Due to darkness I could only see the blackness of his robe and a triangle on his head. Two balls of blue light were shining intensely where his eyes supposed to be. Even though he seemed to be totally alright, tiny fractions of electricity lit up his fists, and occasionally connected the edge of that triangle to his neck.

My lungs begged to empty themselves, but even a small noise was deadly threatening. Was he an alien?

“Atoosa Aryan?” He called.

My heart dropped down to my belly. My thoughts stuck in a tight knot, and so did my tongue.

“I am Raiden, the god of thunder.” He lifted his gloved hand. “There is no need to be afraid. My mere intention is to save you.”

A few minutes later, I found myself sitting before him on one the tables.

“Do we know each other?” I mumbled weakly, afraid that if I blinked for a second, he would rip my throat out.

“I am certain that you have never heard of me untill this moment.” There was a soothing hint of patience in his nonchalant tone. “However, I have heard about you many times in the past two decades. I am well aware of your iron-bending power, Miss. Aryan.”

My heart skipped a beat. He knew too much about me, even the tiniest bit of control I have over iron which I had concealed even from myself. Was he really a god? No, it would be too stupid of me to believe him. He was probably a very professional thief who had taken his job a bit too seriously. What did he want to steal from me though? I had nothing.

He continued. “I am here to offer you a place among the defenders of the realm.”

If he wasn’t a well-trained thief, the he was definitely a psychopath. But that didn’t make sense considering how everything about him seemed too real.

In the next half an hour he took his time to explain about how those defenders defend our realm which he called Earthrealm. He was a god whose main responsibility was to protect this realm. And seemingly, one of his minor duties was to find miserable people like me - with supernatural powers - and train them to be fighters.

That was ridiculous. But a part of my heart begged my brain to believe it.

Writing Taglist(to be added/removed): @vivilovespink @scentedcandleibex @darialovesstuff @confidentandgood @spacestephh @takiisieju-moved @inafieldofdaisies @carlosoliveiraa @shegetsburned @bloody-arty-myths @zoetheneko @hi-thisiszira @admin-pipes @mitsuko-saito @malewifefirestar @krysta-cross @elderglocks @breakfwest @middlechildwhoescapedthebasement @ninibear3000 @sinclxirx @gavincruikshanksexhusband @voidika @orbitinytheworld @strangefable @bihanspookies @valyrra @simonxriley

[hargrove-mayfields]

Disabled Billy and Steve Week

Day 3- special interests

My prompt: Harringrove- Shared Special Interest

-•-•-•-

One month. Billy and Steve have been living together for one month.

In that time they’ve discovered a lot about each other, things they never expected. Things like Steve hanging his jackets and sweaters in rainbow order in the closet, or Billy placing the cups in diagonal lines in the cabinet.

Only one thing had caused a disagreement, and that was about furniture covers. Billy’s ocd wanted them to avoid touching “sofa stank ass,” but Steve’s autism hated the texture of sitting on fabric on top of fabric.

Their solution was two separate chairs instead of one couch. Close enough to hold hands constantly, but separate enough to enforce their individual boundaries. Sure, it means cuddles are limited to their bed, but Billy’s on bedrest with full body aches and bouts of fibro fog usually once a week, so it works.

However, by far the most exciting tidbit they’d discovered was that they share a special interest. Games.

Video games, board games, sports- they’ve both explored the history, researched the best strategies, and played thousands upon thousands of games. DND had brought them together through mutual friendship with Eddie, while Super Mario kept their relationship on its toes.

Tonight, their choice was a little unconventional for them, a big dusty box fished from the very back of the closet. An inherited, smoke stained edition of Scrabble. If either of them and their dyslexia had realized that making a goal to play every game in the house would mean playing a spelling game, they might not have made that promise.

But, Steve already was dead set on doing it, and his dedication was not to be messed with. They were going to play that game, no matter how long it took.

Currently almost two hours and half a bag of letter chips in, it’s Steve’s turn again.

“Uhhh, I’ll spell… sunset! S-U-N.. S-E-T.”

Every chip is placed carefully, and they both double check it with the help of their Scrabble approved dictionary. At first, he’d placed them in the wrong spot, connected to a D instead of the S on the end that he meant to use, but they fixed it quickly instead of dwelling on the mistake. Billy knows Steve might cry of embarrassment if they keep the focus on his mistake for too long.

But now it’s time for Billy to have yet another go, as Steve reminds him in case he forgot again, “Your turn, Bubs! Got anything good?”

“Honestly? I have no ideas. These letters suck.” Billy grumbles, pushing the small tray that holds the letter chips away.

“You can look it up.” Steve suggests, the only way they ever agreed to go along with this game being shortcuts and technical cheats.

But Billy shakes his head, in deep concentration, “No. No, I wanna do it on my own.”

Steve gives an encouraging smile, “Take your time. I’m watching the TV over your shoulder.”

Something about the way Billy snorts says he doesn’t see that as encouragement, but instead sounds hurt, “I’m that boring, huh?”

Regretting the way he’d put it so bluntly, Steve makes sure to promise kindly, “Nope! I just like the game shows!”

It’s true too. He likes learning new words in a way that doesn’t make his brain feel like it’s on fire. And watching other people fail and struggle, even the best of the best, makes him feel a lot better about playing mostly two or three lettered words in this here game of Scrabble.

Billy’s shoulders relax with ease, satisfied that Steve isn’t annoyed with him. He does, however, quip sarcastically, “We’re so old.”

“Thirty isn’t old.” Steve hums, actually happy to be growing older instead of being trapped in the misery of his teens forever.

Growing up meant growing out of his intense self-deprecation, after leaving behind all the pain and the tragedy he’d gone through. Now in California, playing board games with the love of his life, nothing else matters.

Billy clarifies his meaning, showing to Steve that he feels the same way, and was just using an expression, “I’m not talking about literally, baby. And stop rounding up, I’m only 26.”

It’s lighthearted and they both smile, but something keeps nagging in Steve’s head. One of those old fears of his rising up despite his insistence that they don’t bother him anymore.

“We can do young people stuff.” He offers, sounding kind of upset though he doesn’t mean to let it show, “I mean, I just thought this was fun...”

Even though they’ve got a game set up, Billy leans over the small table on his elbows, and holds Steve’s hands, “Stevie. It’s great. I love these slow days with you. They make me happier than anything. I was just kidding.”

Instant relief floods Steve’s nervously twisted stomach, but just in case he asks, “You’re sure? ‘Cause we can do something else.”

It’s his fault they’re doing this. He said it would be okay. Fun even. He said they can do anything they want.

“I want to keep playing.” Billy promises, and then a real pleased look crosses his face, “I just thought of a word even.”

“What is it?” Steve brightens up immediately, leaning forward in interest.

Billy uses an ‘O’ chip already on the board to spell- “Love.”

Picking up from the look on Billy’s face, it’s not a coincidence that he’s taken to flirting through a board game. Steve blushes like they haven’t already been together for eight years. These slow times between them can be relaxing, but they’re usually days where they check in on their romance too. Rekindling the passion over a goddamn spelling game, that should, by all means, have caused Steve to panic ages ago.

It’s sweet, and it only gets better.

An adjacent ‘S’ in line with Billy’s ‘O’ and an ‘M’ further down the board makes it so Steve can spell the biggest word he’s ever played in this game, “Oh! I can use that to spell Soulmate!!”

“You got that right. I’m yours, and you’re mine.” Billy says all suavely. Steve’s literally giggling and kicking his feet, only to be shown once again through the next move just how much of a romantic Billy is.

“Matter of fact, I can use that new M to spell- Marry.”

For a moment, Steve just stares.

He’s not sure if it’s genuine or just a strategy, until Billy produces a tiny box from his pocket. It’s wooden, looks hand carved. Inside is a ring with a small ruby in a heart shape attached to a band, one he recognizes as being Billy’s mothers.

“Billy-“ He chokes. The words he’d been doing so good at freeze up. He’s used his brain so much today and now it’s failing him?

Billy is patient though, leaving the box propped open on the table so he doesn’t have to hold it and lock his wrist up, “Stevie.”

Steve swallows down his nerves as best he can, and starts to ask, “Are you..?”

“I am.” Billy finishes for him, so Steve doesn’t get too frustrated. It’s then that he starts to look nervous too. He chews his lip, a stim Steve recognizes as being an anxious one. Like he’s done something wrong by asking for something so big, “Do you want to?”

But this, this couldn’t be more perfect. A proposal through their shared special interest, a lifelong passion channeled into their love. Of course Steve wants that too. Really, he’s wanted it ever since they were teenagers, but now that they’re in their twenties, they’re finally ready for that dream to become a reality.

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

~~~~~~

For todays disability organization spotlight, let’s talk about the National Fibromyalgia Association.

The NFA is a site which provides health information and resources about Fibromyalgia, a condition that is under researched and often disregarded by medical professionals as not even existing.

The information on their site ranges from self care guides, science explaining chronic pain, COVID precautions for our disorder, medication and treatment suggestions, and emotional assistance for fibromyalgia patients, among other things.

Run by doctors and fibromyalgia patients alike, the websites main goal is to spread awareness and make research accessible for everyone. When I finally received my diagnosis, I spent a lot of time here learning about little things I could do for myself to manage my symptoms. Now I use mobility aids and am in physical therapy, and my symptoms are much more managed than before.

Because fibromyalgia is such a disregarded disability, so are our foundations. The NFA is currently asking for donations, either direct monetary donations or through buying their merchandise in the online shop.

If you would like to learn more about this organization or access their information guides, you can click here to visit the site.

[igotanidea]

We're all broken here: five hargreeves and reader.

Summary: Five is known to say exactly what is on his mind, even if it may hurt someone else. What if he takes it too hard and aim at the one person he really cares about. Will she understand?

A/N: This is just some story focused mostly on family relationships and supporting each other. no romance, just brother-sister stuff. Located somewhere in season 1. no "y/n"s

***

„Shit! Why you gotta be so stupid?!”

This last words echoed through the rooms and hallways of Hargreeves mansion leaving all of the siblings frozen. Despite the fact that Five was the one to use them he already regretted it.

“Eight, I …” he stuttered

“No. You  know what, it’s fine. I’m stupid and you’re mean. Let’s settle here and move on. No sorries, no I didn’t mean it, because for a matter of fact you did mean it.” It took all of her courage and inside strength not to fall apart at this adjective. She was used to being called weak, pathetic, distant, unattractive and plump and that did nothing to her. Aiming at her intelligence however, the only thing she was building her confidence on was just too much. But of course she would never let her idiotic 80somethign year old brother in a kid’s body know that.

“Eight….”

“Save it. We are good. I’m gonna go, but by all means you stay here.”

“Oh, no, honey, wait, wait for me! I’m not leaving you alone with your misery!” Klaus stood up immediately and stumbling a bit followed his sister with a bottle of alcohol in one hand.

“Low blow Five. Really in-style” Alison , aka number three mocked.

“Oh, just shut up and give me a break” Five hissed with clenched fist in his best attempt to teleport back to his room and move on with work and equations that did not make any sense.

“You’re not gonna do this” Diego, number two pointed a knife in his direction. Eight was his favorite sister, always there to calm him down after a fight or to help him with his stuttering or whatever else he had going on and inside he always felt the need to protect her.  She might have been gifted with seeing people’s auras, manipulating their emotions and occasionally getting into their thoughts but she couldn’t use that on herself. And at this moment, surely she had a lot.  “You’re gonna go to her and apologize.”

“I do not have to listen to you, Diego” Five squinted and took a sip of coffee, which was his inherent accessory. “And as a matter of fact, I will not. I’m out.”

“He’s a prick” Luther, number one mumbled with his mouth full when Five excused himself in a flash of blue light. “But that is nothing new.”

“He never was for her” number seven, Vanya shook his head “this whole apocalypse business must have really got into his head if he’s acting like that.”

“Nope” Luther pointed “you seem him differently cause you two always had a connection. But Five is an ass.”

“Hear, hear” Alison nodded

“Hate to say it, but Luther’s right.” Diego stood up.

“Do you think I should check on Klaus and Eight? Don’t know which one will have worse influence on the other.” Vanya was truly the only one who wasn’t afraid to show she cared.

“Leave them be. She can handle herself. In fact, I see Klaus getting advice from her not the other way round. He’s been acting strange lately.”

“Can’t remember the time when he was not.”

*** 

Meanwhile in eight’s room she was sitting on her bed with legs up to her chest, staring blankly into a space. Well, in fact she was staring at the wall bordering her room from five’s but it was not intentional.

“My lovely sister!” Klaus stumbled into her room and fell on the bed making the girl jump a little. “Do not torture yourself with Five’s words. This is unhealthy.”

“Look who is talking about unhealthy” she smirked pointing towards the bottle “care to share?”

“Um…. Sure, yeah, why not? Here you are.” He took a long sip before passing the alcohol to her “enjoy.”

“Klaus?”

“Yes, dear?”

“It’s empty, you ball of fuzz. You drank the last drops”

“Ups. Sorry.” he grinned “I’m sure you can do without, right?” he hid his face in the bed sheet and groaned

“You left me no choice. Anyway, anything I can do for you, brother?”

“Me?” he raised himself on the elbows and looked straight at her, his hair being a mess, confusion all over his face “Oh, no, I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Klaus.”

“Yes.”

“I can see your aura, remember? I can feel your emotions.”

“And what do you see, sister my?”

“Brown.” She raised an eyebrow

“You have to be more specific on that.”

“Well, you are either high, but that’s usual or you’ve been dealing with your ghost powers. I bet the latter.”

“I’m working hard you know, I’m trying” he cried “I even let Diego tie me to a chair so I would keep on track”

“So that’s what it was all about. Cute.”

“Don’t mock me” Klaus fell on his back dramatically “It’s exhausting.”

“Sure is. Ben giving you a hard time lately?”

“Not more than usual.” Number six, Ben, died at 17, but was still showing himself to Klaus and on some occasions Eight was capable of feeling his presence and emotions.

“It’s so good that at least you believe me I see him” Klaus grabbed her hand “He’s terrible. Won’t let me do a single thing.”

Liar.

“Oh, shut up, Ben”

“He’s here now? Where?”

Come on, eight, focus. I’m …. right…. here….

“Sitting on the window sill. You feel him?”

“Somewhat. I see yellow from that side. He’s mad. Not sure if It’s about you being a liar or ….”

The other one, obviously. Tell her, Klaus!

“Yeah, it’s about Five. Now, come here, sis. Let me hug you and make the pain go away. You do know you are not stupid, right?”

“Of course I do. But thank you Klaus.” She was more than happy to let her brother embrace her.

***

There was no denying that this damn upcoming apocalypse had an effect on every one of the siblings. Each of them reacted in their own way, leaving Luther and Alison spending the rest of the time together, Diego doing his vigilante shit, Klaus crying his heart out on Eight’s shoulder and Five going crazy. More than usual. Doing stuff he was not supposed too.

“Eight.” It was his best chance to make things right with her, so he appeared inside her room startling Klaus.

“Ah! Five. Don’t do this.”

“Go away. I need a word with her.”

“I don’t know if she….”

“If you don’t leave in like 5 seconds I’m gonna ….”

“Ok, fine, fine. I’m leaving. Jeez, threatening, Five? Seriously? I’m fragile!”

“Get out, Klaus!”

“Come on, Ben. We’re out.”

Nope. I’m staying. This will be interesting.

“Don’t you disobey me, now!” four yelled at the air making both Five and Eight look at him in confusion. Five more than his sister since she saw a bit of red in the air. Ben was angry for being told what to do. She shook her head not sure what to do with three brothers, one dead inside her room.

“You know what, since you all act like lunatics, I’m gonna go. Whoever has a business with me, feel free to join. I’ll get coffee and wait in the garden. 

And with that she left Klaus bantering with Ben and dumfounded Five behind.

***

“Come out now, blue, I can see you” couple minutes later she was sitting on the garden bridge, legs hanging from the edge, sipping coffee, watching the street.

“Stop calling me that” Five took a step towards her, hands in pockets, his whole posture a little slouched.

“I can’t help you just radiate this color.”

“And what does that mean to you. Sadness? I am not sad.”

“Of course not. Blue is not sadness, it’s more … thinking, considering. I can almost feel the wheels in your brain turning. So, the question is, what is on your mind to leave you like this?”

“Stop playing around. You know damn well what this is about.”

“Guilt?” she tilted her head

“Don’t push me Eight! You can say it to yourself.”

“Maybe” she refused to look at him “but I want you to express it.”

“I never should have called you that.”

“If that’s what troubles you ….”

“No. Don’t interrupt me!”

“How could I. After all you are older than me.” She fixed her gaze on the tree on the opposite side of the road.

“Look, Eight” he sighed in exasperation and rubbed his forehead “I saw you all die. I have lived through the apocalypse, and came back here looking like a kid. Surely you understand it is not… normal.”

“I do. And?”

“And…. This may have some effect on how I behave.”

“I call bullshit, Five.”

“Fine!” he yelled “you are infuriating, you get the craziest ideas, you make me mad and small, you constantly undermine what I do and …..”

“And what?” she finally looked at him. The second she laid her eyes on his face he could not hide anymore. She saw right through him like an open book. Not only because of her abilities, but because she was always the one closest to him. Challenging, yes. Demanding, yes. But at the same time so ambitious that it made him want to do more, to do better. To outsmart her, to impress her and to prove that he was in fact worth her friendship. He sighed, feeling utterly defeated.

“I hate you, Eight.” The boy shook his head in frustration  “But at the same time you are my sister and after some snarky comments and spiteful words I would jump into the fire for you.”

“I know. That is why I did not take what to you said to me personally.”

“It didn’t look like that to me.”

“Well then you are no smarter than me, dumbass. We are family, we are all broken, messy, chaotic and a bunch of individuals. We fight, scream at each other, get mad and even do not talk for … how many years?” she smiled at him “but at the end of the day we resist the urge to kill each other and that is the progress.”

“You want to kill me, Eight?”

“Sometimes, yes. Do you remember that?” she moved slightly so he could see a carving on the bridge.

“Fight” he smirked “Like Five and Eight combined.”

“How old were we when we made that up? Six?”

“Possibly. It’s good to see some things stays the same.”

“You know Five, we may have grown up, but seems like our relationship will always come down to this one words. Fight. Each other or other people, never mind. To me it just mean we are here for one another.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“Good” she raised her cup “but stay away from my coffee. If there’s anything about you I know is that you are an ass, mischievous, spiteful, vengeful …”

“Careful there sister….”

“I’m not done yet… you act on impulse and do not mince your own words, but you are not cruel.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen my fair share of people who wanted to hurt another. Their faces when they told words that were meant to tear each other apart and to cause damage. There were so much viciousness inside. That single purpose on their mind to break and destroy. Whatever you may think about yourself you are not like that, Five. You are not evil. Just a menace.”

“So touching” he mocked  “I think I’m about to cry.”

“Don’t mind my presence than” she took another sip and having finished the coffee put the cup down ”“Now. You got silver sparkling in your cloud. Who are we fighting with today?”

“Have I ever told you about the Commission?” he squinted at her.

“Nope. But it seems like a long story. I’m listening.”

Yes. After all, they were family. And at the end of the day they were up to get rid of anyone who would threat a member of it.

[pixeldistractions]

Selena was just glad that she had her darling Fabio. The dog has grown so much bigger in a few months, and now wears a long, flowing mane like his namesake. But that was the dog’s great glory, and Selena had nothing going on in her own life at all. Sadly, Andre wasn’t calling as much as she hoped. He wasn’t calling ever. She had initiated every conversation they’d had since August, and she was beginning to feel clingy and desperate. She didn’t like that. She needed to go out and get some fresh air, and her friends were happy to oblige.

The group of them dressed to impress, and they went out dancing. But they all teased her, “If you come out to the club dressed like Pollyanna, you’re bound to catch yourself a dork.”

They weren’t wrong, actually. Was it the plaid, the elbow patches, or the cable-knit turtleneck? Selena’s look did indeed attract a dork, but he was a very distinguished and professorial type of dork. To be honest, that didn’t turn Selena off, and she had no intention of telling him to get lost.

“Does that seat belong to your boyfriend?” he asked.

“I’m here with my friends,” she said. “Nope, no boyfriend. Not here, anyway. We’re long distance. I’m not sure it’s working out.”

“That’s a shame,” he said, looking like he didn’t believe it was a shame at all. “Might I borrow you for a chat then?”

They left the cacophony of the dance floor for a quieter place to talk. His name was Martin Harwood and he was the new visiting law professor at Sierra Nova University.

“I graduated from there two years ago,” she said.

“I just missed you. What did you study?”

“Culinary arts.”

“I admire that so much. I’m a terrible cook. But I suppose it’s for the best that I missed you. If you were still a student, it wouldn’t be right for me to ask for your number.”

His interest in her was nice, after months of neglect from Andre. He was serious, maybe a little smug, or maybe a little smarmy. She had no idea if he was nice or cruel, generous or greedy, honest or conniving. She knew nothing about him at all except that he was thirty-three years old and different from every other man she’d dated before. (Okay, fair enough, she’d only dated two men before.) But maybe she was in the mood to try something different.

Selena was unsure whether months of apathy on Andre’s part signaled the end of this tragic romance they were dragging through the dirt. Maybe she should just put them out of their misery. Except she was pretty sure he wasn’t miserable over it, only she was. She had really wanted Andre to be the one. She wanted him to call her in the middle of the night and plead for her and say that he couldn’t live without her another moment longer. But that just wasn’t happening.

She read too many romance novels, maybe. She’d filled her head with fantasies.

“Yes, Professor Harwood, you can have my number.”

And if he called her before Andre did, that would be Andre’s fault.

— from “postcards from grad school” (4/4)

[bleue-flora]

Couldn’t help but think about this scene (Ch 5 of Misery Loves Another Idiot-) on Saint Patrick’s Day 🍀 so in honor of our favorite green boy on this green themed holiday, here’s the first rendition I wrote that I just found in my notes. 💚 Enjoy! Consider it my late tortureversary gift. ;)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Referenced/Implied Torture, Injuries, Profanity.

The pang of a metal water bucket hitting obsidian infects the air with an ominous promise. Followed by the approaching footsteps of who intends to fulfill that promise.

The noise makes Dream winch and struggle to hold back his trembling form. The desire to flee building up like a mountain inside of him. But he can’t. Can’t so much as crawl to the false safety of the corner with his ankles currently chained to themselves and the floor as well as his hands tied together behind his head, causing an intense pressure on his shoulders. A lingering tingling coats his body in pain from the previous days and even if he weren’t vulnerably bound to lay out on the floor like an animal ready to be cooked, the broken bones in his legs wouldn’t get him very far. That and well he’s trapped in an obsidian box completely covered in lava. There’s no where to go in this accurate recreation of hell. All he can do is wait for Quackity to make the first move and endure the torment that comes along with it.

Quackity takes his place to sit crisscrossed next to Dream’s head a bright and puzzled expression on his face, “Let me ask you something. Why the color green. Why choose that color?… I mean it’s not particularly flattering on you. It’s really not. It’s certainly not an intimidating color.”

In the hopes it gains him more favor with his torturer, he plays along a bit to the temporary non-hostile ambience, exhausted and tentatively he responds, “I don’t—don’t know. What do you want me to say?…“ before shifting to a higher sarcastic tone, “Oh, Quackity, I just love green—it’s my favorite color—it’s obviously the color I look best in—I mean, it makes me feel powerful, you know, like all the good villains…”

Continuing on he reasons, exasperated, “No no no unlike some people, I don’t need anything to make me feel powerful or fucking intimating, Quackity. It doesn’t matter what I wear, it could be—be a Rudolph costume and it wouldn’t make a damn difference. I still have the revive book so, to be fair, am I less powerful if I wore purple instead? I mean, do really think—do you really fucking think everyone would fear me less in pink?”

Nope. It wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t matter at all. No, he just wanted peace and freedom and that made him a tyrant. Pink, purple, turquoise, he could dress in the whole goddamn rainbow and it wouldn’t matter, not once they saw him as the villain. He could wear a fucking duck onesie and they’d still call him a monster and hunt him down to kill him like one. No, color had nothing to do with his persona or villainous facade. If he wanted to be seen as fearsome he wouldn’t wear neon lime green and a mask with a derpy, happy smile on it. No, it’s only because it actually is his favorite. Has been as long as he can remember, long before Tommy declared them enemies and turned the server against him.

Quackity, not amused in the slightest by the answer, replies while dipping a cloth in the bucket and squeezing out the access water, “Do you think you’re funny? You think you’re fucking funny?—huh?… Don’t fuck with me, Dream. I was trying to be nice. I was gonna ease into it today, but you know what? I’ll just cut to the fucking chase. How does that sound?”

[For the actual scene I went with see Ch 5 Bridge Over Troubled Water of Misery Loves An Idiot- linked here and above]

[thychesters]

20 Questions for fic writers

@acewithapaintbrush posted and said "go for it" so here i am! putting this under a cut because it got long lmao

How many works do you have on Ao3?

33

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

303,124

3. What fandoms do you write for?

dc/batman/birds of prey, with some until dawn and uncharted thrown in there. right now it's mostly one piece though.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

ship to wreck. (one piece/zolu)

ocean breathes salty. (one piece/zolu)

ronald mcdonald eat your heart out. (dc/batman/bruce & dick)

the salt & the sea. (one piece/zolu/reincarnation au)

misery loves company. (dc/batman/jason & damian)

5. Do you respond to comments?

yes! i appreciate them a ton. sometimes it might take me a few days but i try to respond to every single one

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ooh that's a tough one, because while i like to include a lot of notes of angst, most of the endings have been on decent notes. maybe if you go out in the woods today (until dawn) because it's a vanishing hitchhiker au.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

probably the salt & the sea. (one piece)! i'd like to think all of that build up to the end and the reunion was worth it. (and it was to me, at least!)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

luckily i have not!

9. Do you write smut?

hehe i have and i want to again!

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you have written?

nope! not really my thing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

years ago i noticed some similarities in ideas, but nothing too major.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i haven't!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have... considered doing so...

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

since i tend to bop between fandoms, i don't really have one! right now it's zolu, but i also really enjoy the dynamics of the straw hats as a whole. i'm rotating them in my mind like a rotisserie chicken.

15. What is a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i think unfortunately the first op fic i started is going to end up being something the buzzards (me) pick at for lines and ideas. or maybe someday in the far future it will see the light of day. (i started it 70 episodes into my watch and stabbed zoro haha)

16. What are your writing strengths?

i like to think i can convey emotions and character interactions. i also enjoy some of the physicality between them, so i hope that shows as well!

17. What are you writing weaknesses?

balancing out dialogue between a large cast of characters and pacing in action sequences. want to keep enough happening to keep things moving, but not repeat myself four times.

18. Thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

why not, if it works?

19. First Fandom you wrote for?

honestly i think my friend and i wrote twilight parody fic when we were in middle school LMAO

20. Favorite fic you have written?

more recently i'm very proud of the zolu reincarnation au i've mentioned above, but i'm also really, really happy with the way the zoro pining fic ode to an ocean. turned out. that one has a few of my favorite lines in it! (also maybe my next wip ... or who knows)

thanks for the tag by proxy ace!

if they're interested in doing so, i'm tagging @lookforanewangle, @beck-a-leck, @sciencemyfiction, @ghostlandtoo, and @microcomets! (hi claire!)

[elvensorceress]

Wednesday is for the WIPs

tagged by @lostinabuddiehaze @dickley-buddie @rogerzsteven @spaceprincessem @fatedbuck @spotsandsocks @prettyboybuckley @confetti-cupcake @monsterrae1 @zainclaw @bekkachaos @deluweil @rewritetheending 🥹💕 I love you all so much!

tagging @messyhairdiaz @swiftiediaz @gaydisasterdiaz @blutterlie @alyxmastershipper @jobairdxx @ajunerose @the-likesofus @ashavahishta @sibylsleaves @fleurdebeton @shortsighted-owl  if any of you haven’t already and want to share something 😘💕

Unless You Ask Me To is way out of my control now. It was not even 20K in the first draft! 🙃 The rewrite is asdjfksl who even knows. But have some more because everything needs more Karen Wilson. 

As soon as Christopher reaches the front door, Eddie kneels and hugs him as if they’ve been apart for years. Chris pats his shoulder in a placating way but also gives him a, “Dad. It was two days,” and wriggles away so he can seek refuge and peace in his bedroom. 

It’s fine. It’s all fine. Because Eddie shuts the front door and reaches for Karen before she can go back to her car. He urgently motions her closer and leans down to whisper to her as if someone might somehow hear them. “He told me he loves me.”

She gives him an odd look. “Who? Chris?”

Eddie huffs. “No.”

“No? Oh. OH.” Karen’s eyes grow wide and then she turned her voice to hushed, conspiratorial tones. “The boyfriend? He loves you?”

The boyfriend. His boyfriend of four months. Who is sweet and considerate and patient and nerdy and fun. And all Eddie can think about is how the only time he’s thought it, mentioned it, felt it— is when he confessed that love? Love to Eddie, for Eddie? Love means Buck. 

“Yes, the boyfriend,” Eddie tells her. “He told me he loves me.”

“Awww,” she smiles proudly like Eddie is a child who’s shown her the messy, scratchy drawing he’s made that she knows is objectively terrible but is maybe subjectively adorable and makes her sentimental. “That’s great, Eddie. Good for you. I’m happy for you.”

At least someone is. 

It’s not that it’s a bad thing. It’s a very good thing. He likes Raúl, he likes being with him. Dating is fun and enjoyable for once, and they just had a perfect, romantic night away together. Unless you factor in the fucking panic attack. There’s that little tiny detail. 

He should be happy. Eddie wants to be happy. He shakes his head and just feels even more guilty and terrible about it. 

“And you said…?” Karen waves her hand— either like she’s confused and wants to know more or like she’s conjuring a spell that will put him out of his misery. He hopes it’s the latter.

Eddie pushes his tongue to the front of his teeth. “He told me I didn’t have to say the same. Or feel the same. I don’t know. He’s very casual and nonchalant about everything. I kissed him and we just—” Eddie shrugs because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how to feel about this because he’s much too busy feeling like a failure for being unable to have sex. 

Feelings and emotions are full today. He’s way over capacity. They’ll have to try again later. Except not. They should not try again later because he’s tired of feeling anything. They can fuck off forever. 

Karen shrugs back. “And you just—? Fucked? Or no, made sweet emotional love because he loves you?”

Jesus fuck. Eddie holds up a hand. “No. Nope. No, because that’s the thing. That is the thing. I can’t— I-I don’t? We haven’t. Not because he’s a man. Just to clarify. It’s not that.” 

“Oh,” she says wisely, knowledgeably. “Is it because you were Catholic?” It sounds like it’s a tragic disease he used to have. The way she says it. And… well. Maybe it was. But that’s still not the problem. “No sex before marriage? No marriage that isn’t a man and a woman? God will cry, you’ll burn in Hell, all that bullshit? Is that it?”

“No. Nothing like that.” Although he can’t say it’s very helpful to think about? “I just…” He looks around even though there’s no one who can hear them, no one near his front door, his neighbors aren’t out taking walks or doing yard work, and there’s no way for anyone to know what he’s going to say. But he has to make sure. “The last time we talked about love? Was when I told him that I’m in love with Buck.”

Karen’s eyes widen so large, they just might pop right out. And then she has to glance around, too. Like she’s also wondering if anyone was around to hear what he just told her. “You told him you’re in love with Buck? You’re in love with Buck?”

Why the fuck did he think it was a good idea to bring this up? What in the hell was he thinking? He pinches the bridge of his nose and then tells her. “It was months ago. I had feelings before I even met Raúl and I told him about it because I didn’t want to be dishonest. I was expecting to break up, but he basically said, of course I was in love with Buck and he already knew, from the beginning. But it wasn’t a dealbreaker because we could still build something together if we wanted to because— because I know Buck doesn’t—”

Karen raises an eyebrow and gives him a narrowed, suspicious gaze. 

“Even if he feels something. He’s not ready. He doesn’t look at me or think of me like that. He doesn’t want a relationship right now.” And Eddie would fuck up not just everything for Buck and Christopher, but the strongest most necessary support beam relationship in his whole life. Because that’s all Eddie ever does is fuck up every single potential romantic relationship he ever has. “I don’t want to fuck that up. I can’t ever fuck that up. Love doesn’t mean it will work. It doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. I can’t… I can’t.”

“Okay…” Karen seems to accept that. For now. 

“Anyway, the point? I like him. Raúl. I like him a lot. I love being with him. I really do. I’ve never actually really enjoyed a relationship. And I told him the thing that I told him months ago. Because I had to be honest. And I’ve been trying to commit. I am committed. I am. I want to be with him. But— but the last time I talked about love, it was, ‘I love Buck.’ And— and—”

Karen tips her head to the side like she can decipher all the secrets of the universe just by looking. Who knows. She’s a literal rocket scientist. She might have that power. “And you still love Buck. How could you stop loving Buck.” 

It’s not a question. She doesn’t even say it like a question. It’s a fact. And it will always be a fact. 

[tonberry-yoda]

Casino Party - Donquixote Doflamingo

Pairing - Donquixote Doflamingo x f!reader

Warnings - none! i mean, there's kinda suggestive stuff, but nothing mentioned intensely. if you've ever been to Las Vegas, it's kinda like that lmao

Word Count - 1,172

Notes - crocodile and doflamingo are casino dudes.

And don’t forget, REQUESTS ARE OPEN! So if you want to request any writing, please don’t hesitate to ask, but please read my pinned post before requesting! Please enjoy!! Don’t forget to stay hydrated! <3

“You’ve told me a lot about Doflamingo, but I haven't actually met him, believe it or not.” Crocodile turned to her, shocked. “What?!” “Yeah. It's actually pretty weird,” she looked over her outfit, fixing her giant fur coat. “It's like I know every little thing about him, but I couldn't put a face to his name if you asked me to.” “Oh, believe me, you could.” Crocodile adjusted the collar of her coat and turned her towards the mirror.

“You look great.” “You think?” She ran her ring covered fingers over her waist and hips, feeling a little out of her comfort zone wearing something so… tight. “I do. But to be honest, I'm still baffled.” Crocodile helped lead her out of the room, towards a large boat that was to take them to their island getaway. “What? That I haven't met Doflamingo?” “Yes! I could've sworn I introduced the two of you.” “Nope! I don't even know what color hair he has.” “Now I'm all scared for you.” “Why?” “It's going to be your first time meeting him. I would've liked to have you meet him sooner, not at some party.” She sighed, already feeling her pearl necklace itching her collarbone. “Pray for me, Croc.” “I'm sure you’ll be fine. He just… has a little problem when he’s around everyone. His ego shoots up, like he’s better than everyone. And with you dressed like,” Crocodile looked at her dress and back at the ocean. “That. He might take it the wrong way.” “Take it the wrong way? How?” “Let's just say that he and I have been working in the casino business for a long time. We’ve seen a lot of different women in our lives. So make sure to stand your ground. Feel free to bring me in if need be.” “I'll be fine. You still treat me like a child, Croc. You don't have to act like my protective older brother all the time.” Crocodile giggled, grabbing a drink from someone who walked by. “I just get worried about you sometimes. Especially around someone like him.” “But Croc, I-” “I know, I know. You’re on your way to becoming a warlord too. I understand that you’re strong, and believe me, not a lot of things scare me when it comes to you. But Doflamingo? That guy scares the shit out of me.”

Crocodile set down his drink and took a puff of his cigar looking out at the ocean that was shimmering a dark blue, the moon reflecting in the ripples of the small waves. “We’re almost there. Are you ready?” She stretched, seeing an island up ahead with neon lights and spotlights shining to the stars. “You bet I am. And don't worry, Croc. If you need anything, I'll find you.” “You better.” She squeezed his hand, heading for the exit. “I will. Promise.”

---

Her feet hurt like hell. Those heels were the worst idea she had yet. She needed to sit down. God, it hadn't even been an hour and her feet hurt and she already lost Crocodile. No matter. She would find Doflamingo. It was her goal, after all. She needed to put a face to that crazy name he had made for himself.

How did this place have no empty benches? Everywhere was full or nonexistent and she could just feel her feet developing blisters. “Screw it.” She found the emptiest place she could and took a seat on the ground. Whatever works. At least her feet weren't in misery anymore. Plus, it gave her a fun view. Girls running without shoes, the bottom of their feet stained black from the cigarette ash covered ground, laughing together. Drunk men trying to flirt with sober women who were just teasing them for the thrill of it. Couples making out left and right. It was a crazy party. She was a little frightened she might get stolen sitting on the floor like that, but there weren't too many people around, so she felt safe for the time being.

“Hey,” she looked up to find a tall man leaning over her, a giant smile on his face as a toothpick stuck out from his lips. “You okay down there, missy?” Women clung to his arms and she stood up in shock. This man was taller than Crocodile, and he was eight foot three! “I-I'm fine.” She took a step back as he looked at her with slight concern in his eyebrows. She couldn't tell what his eyes were saying, however, since they were covered by giant cateye glasses with pink lenses. It couldn't be…

“Is your name Doflamingo?!” She couldn't help it. It just slipped out. The man tilted his head and shooed away the women who were clinging to him. “How do you know my name?” He kneeled down to her level, which was a lot. He was so lanky, it took his full power just to get down to make eye contact with her. “I… uh… I'm a friend of Crocodile’s.” “Gator boy?!” The mood immediately changed as a bright smile appeared on his face as he flicked his toothpick away. “Well goddamn. You shoulda told me sooner, little lady. Just saw the bastard moments ago! So, you’re the little chick he always hangs around, huh? Nice to meetcha sweet pea.” He stuck out his hand, his long fingers encasing her entire hand as she shook it. “I hope this isn't weird to say,” Doflamingo put his hand on the small of her back, listening to every word she had to say as he led her away from the corner. “But I've heard a lot about you, Doflamingo.” “Is that so? Is Croc talkin’ about me?” “A lot actually.” “Of course he is, that son of a bitch. I've heard bits and pieces about you, but I wasn't expecting you to look like… this.” He looked at her, as if in awe. “Oh, stop.” She blushed, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Believe it or not,” she giggled, walking out to the courtyard with him. “You are exactly what I was imagining.” “I figured. I do give off ‘Doflamingo vibes’, don't I?” “Yeah. And it doesn't help that you wear that giant pink jacket.” “I suppose it doesn't.” He gave her a loving look as she sat on a swing that was hanging from a tree. “Who were those women you were with, Doflamingo?” Doflamingo blushed. “Uh. Not important. They’re no one. Uh… I was hoping you wouldn't ask that.” He nervously giggled, sitting on the ground next to her, but somehow being at her level. “Why not?” “I was hoping I could take you out on a date… but uh… that might’ve made me look pretty bad, huh?” She giggled, jumping off of the swing, sitting next to him on the grass. “We can go on a date. But those women won't be in the picture,” she looked into his eyes as his glasses fell, her eyes making him fall in love immediately. “Got it?”

[tatteredxsails]

@vocesofmd continued from here

A cat could re-learn to walk silently with a bell around her neck. It was a formality, a reminder to the creature that it should forego its nature for the sake of the little warm-bodied creatures it shared the world with. It was a reminder that the cat's nature was something to be altered if it wanted the stroke of a sweet and familiar hand.

Or some shit.

Edward had learned how to walk without ringing the thing, but for the moment he just held it clasped in his hand to muffle the sound. He was still wearing it out of a courtesy to Stede and the rest of the crew. He was well aware, even if they weren't, that it was less about their comfort with him and more about humiliating him. Someone would probably say humbling. Whatever it was, you didn't dress a man in rice sacks and put a bell around his neck if you gave two shits about him retaining a sense of humanity.

He'd made them hate him, not intending to stick around and face the repercussions. Not that it had been hard to make them all hate him. He'd had a talent for that his whole fucking life. Came with the territory.

Edward had been thinking about the end of things long before Stede Bonnet had come into his life. Back then it had just been one of those... "oh well. We'll see what happens" kind of things. Then the world had dropped out from under him and that "oh well" became a "please".

He'd been trying to outsource the big job, again. He drove the crew from raid to raid, hoping that the next one would free him. And if he didn't die like that, well. You could only drive a crew so far before they finally turned on you. Best way to get rid of a viciously shitty captain? Kill him. Tie him to something heavy and throw him off the ship. Push, push, push and something would eventually give.

He'd started with Izzy. Tried to end with Izzy, too, and ended up having to accelerate the situation. It made sense to start with Izzy. The man was practically indistinguishable from him. He could turn all of his self-loathing and intentions of harm on Izzy and it would just... be easier. It would be fitting. Izzy would understand what he needed and he'd eventually have to give it to him. Edward had a breaking point, so Izzy must too. He'd gotten the idea when he'd had his hand around Izzy's throat and had felt the brush of his leather glove against his cheek.

There he is.

There he was.

The problem with the whole thing was that Izzy just... didn't fucking break. Not how he expected. Edward took a toe and the man had run to his heel, ever the eager hound. He'd barked and snarled at the crew in Edward's stead, driving them on through raid after drug-fueled fucking raid like he was obeying the will of god.

Even when he'd finally broken, it hadn't been what Edward had expected. It had been a soft refusal, a question, and an unwanted affirmation of, what? Love. It felt rotten and Edward had pressed his fingers into it like a bruise he greedily needed the pain from.

He'd shot Izzy in the hopes that it would do the trick. Nope. The crew rallied around him and tried to save his life. So Ed had gone down into that stinking room. He'd taken a gun with him and had hoped.

Hearing the shot after he'd left the room had just made that rotten spot inside of him worse. Izzy was gone and the shot hadn't taken him with it.

Except... Izzy wasn't gone. Neither was Edward. He could sit and think about that. Were they both here because Izzy failed? ... Technically, but there was nothing mystical behind that. Nothing fated.

Edward let go of the bell, letting it ring softly, as he moved to sit down within the man's radius of misery -- close enough to feel the alcoholic heat of him. They hadn't spoken or directly interacted since Edward's resurrection, but he'd still known there was something underneath Izzy's seemingly restored state of being. After all, there was something underneath his own.

The gun in his lap, finger against the trigger, said it all.

"Wanna give it another shot?" Ed asked him, dropping a hand to rest over his on the pistol.