#for the reason that ‘that kind of thing needs to be taught in the home’

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

seeing spirit leading the story in the latest chapter was nice, will we learn more about her, backstory wise? afaik, all we know is she was captured by bandits and is repaying reader by helping her, and will eventually see reader as a sister figure. she doesn't speak monkey, so that most likely means she doesn't have a troop right? who did spirit grow up with?

Oho. Now this is fun! Spirit's backstory is mostly a mystery to most people because she is a lone monkey demoness. She does have family, but she never talks to them. (Mostly because she doesn't know most of them)

Spoilers below on her backstory. You know I probably should add these cuts for most questions... eh it's fine.

Spirit is the daughter of a monkey demon and a human woman. They weren't in love, far from it they simply wanted a one night stand (or rather they both got drunk and ended up having a one night stand). So after they were done the demon left and never came back.

The woman Chu Lin gave birth to a single monkey cub, whom she raised with love and care. Being human she had no idea about monkey customs, so she never taught her daughter about it since she didn't know about them. Like at all.

Which results in Spirit, not knowing how to speak monkey, 'properly groom' (she does it instinctively but was never taught so it's not proper) and she was shunned by the village along with her mother.

Because she and her mother were outcasted from their home, Spirit didn't like humans. Except when they traveled she met several who had no problems with her appearances and looks. So she saw people as just that people both good and bad. She knows you can't judge a book by it's cover ever.

Along their travel to find a new home, they came across a forest. One with a very playful six tailed fox demoness named Su. A demoness skilled in fire, lighting, and a few glamours. She lived in the forest for a long while before they traveled through. She played several pranks on the two as they passed through but decided just before they could leave to give Spirit a gift. She taught her how to use glamours, just enough to make her look human.

Because of this, her mother and her were finally able to settle down in a human village for a while. There, her mother met a man that she fell in love with. They got married rather quickly, and Spirit decided that it was then that she should leave. Her mother was safe and taken care of, she was now an adult and could take care of herself too.

She stayed for the wedding of course and got to see them after their honeymoon. After they saw each other one last time once their honey moon was over though, she left. She gave her mother a gift, a small Jade pin in the shape of a monkey and just left. (She did say goodbye and their were tears)

The reason she wanted to leave was to find her father, the man who helped give her life. She needed to learn more about her home and culture. So she set off to learn about her own kind, with a bow and her glamours she was she that she could do this.

However, there was an accident. She ran into a demon who was rather powerful. After fighting for a while, she got knocked out and lost most of her memories. So she doesn't remember anything about her Iife before the fight. All she remembers is that she got into a fight with a golden monkey demon.

She began to travel after she woke up. The demon was long gone by then. It's about two years before she gets ambushed by the bandits, and in that time, she learns several things about life. So that's why she's not running around trying to remember her life because she's already tried and failed. So she wanders the world searching for... something. What was she searching for?

Until she gets ambushed by bandits. She is pissed off by this, of course. They had ambushed her while she was sleeping and stole her bow! So now she has put her mission on hold to help a human. At least she's a very nice human, so she doesn't mind it too much.

Besides, maybe she'll be able to find her memories with the help of this human. After all, she did appear out of nowhere. Though she doesn't get her hopes up with this.

Of course that is until the monkeys cubs get involved. She doesn't mind cubs truly she doesn't. She normally likes them not quite love because she's not good with kids but she likes them. But something about these two... it's just so something... she can't quite put her finger on it. Especially with how they are getting clingyer and clingyer by the day.

She gets annoyed at the two often and at times wants to just toss them aside. Of course, they don't really give her that chance and try their best to hog reader all for themselves. Not that they'll try to do anything to Spirit, she is the provider that gets most of the food for Reader after all.

Eventually, she'll meet her dad (on a certain island) and learn he has a mate, who he got together with after the whole one night stand. And she'll learn that she has two siblings, who are very keen on the idea of a big sister. Her father's mate is even welcoming to her, much to her surprise.

After all if that was her dad, and that was his mate. But his mate isn't her mother than... who is her mother?

I loved this ask! Please send more my way if you want. No pressure it just helps me think on my stories and no I did not just come up with her backstory (I totally did, but I like it so meh!)

Also, if you wanna learn about Su, then send an ask. She's gonna be popping up in the story too later. @sleepingdramaqueen has heard about her before. Hehe~

And yes, I will add more to this backstory, but I just came up with it, so yeah. I'm debating on if I'm gonna mate her ace or give her a love interest. So far, she doesn't have one (if you have any suggestions for one, though send them my way!!)

[exmojoe]

mormon parents signing you out of sex ed in school because “that’s something parents should teach you”:

mormon parents when it comes to teaching you about sex: 🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗 sex = bad 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♂️🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗

[blujayonthewing]

why is learning how to buy and use power tools so fucking hard for no reason

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

He’s staring at him.

Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.

The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.

“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.

“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.

“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”

“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”

Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”

“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”

Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.

Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”

Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”

Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”

Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”

“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.

“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”

Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”

He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”

“To- to prove you’re from the future?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”

He blinks. “What?”

Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”

Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”

Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”

“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.

A ring Eddie already has on his finger.

“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.

His hands start shaking.

“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”

“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.

“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect

[foldingfittedsheets]

The kids. In our complex. Make me so crazy. So there’s like 16 townhome units. It’s a smallish enclosed loop. For this reason we have a ton of kids in the neighborhood who bike and play in the parking lot.

The PROBLEM. Is that they’re almost entirely unsupervised and do not follow any kind of safety rules. When cars come they do not pull out of the way and wait. They just keep riding erratically around.

One little unsupervised two year old just stood in the middle of the lane and held a hand up to stop my car. His parents came out after a few minutes and laughed and I’m like MY GUYS YOU JUST TAUGHT YOUR KID TO BE UNSAFE ASSUMING CARS WILL SEE HIM!!!

A different time a six or seven year old was gearing up to try to outrace my car instead of pulling aside. I flipped my car into neutral and revved until she zipped out of the lane in a panic. Like. Tiny one. You are infinitely crushable. You do not fuck around, you need to get out of the way because you are a tiny thing that not all cars will see.

Another four or five year old was sitting in a place yesterday where we could have and almost did back into him!! Like. Why are you sitting here with the cars and no supervision???? There’s grassy areas behind the units and as much as I loathe the kids staring in my sliding door I prefer it to them trying to get run over.

Today I got home and a maybe three year old girl was riding an electric bike around. When she saw my car she sped up like we were playing chicken until I honked. Then she sullenly got off and left the bike in the lane so I couldn’t go. I was gesturing for her to move it before she finally realized the problem and pulled it to the side. I finally got to proceed toward my spot, driving past her while she gave me a thumbs up.

I found another bike sat in my parking space. I am about to start popping tires.

[homunculus-argument]

Fantasy concept: The standard classic fantasy races, but humans are the species that's living the diaspora spread among other peoples' lands and cultures.

Humans are adaptible, can pick up whatever languages and customs they need to, learn to dress according to climate, are capable of digesting almost anything that the majority race commonly eat, can tolerate magic but don't need it to live, and altogether seem to find a way to live comfortably - or at least tolerably - wherever they can live at all. Many races who have humans living among them have a misconception that humans are some kind of sapient chameleons, that just automatically take the shape of their environment without thought or effort.

In truth, human communities are fairly tight-knit and have strong support networks, and they can and will immediately take in any newcomer stray humans and families, teaching them the ropes of how to live here. Not just out of the kindness of their hearts, but pragmatic reasons: one bad human or family will reflect badly on the whole population of the area. It's better to make sure that a stranger has a job than hear your own neighbour say that humans don't have jobs. It's fairly safe to assume that most humans who live in the same city know each other to some extent, but just because they're allies doesn't necessarily mean that they're friends.

While mixbreeding with the local population does happen - humans, for some reason, tend to be far more open to romantic and sexual relationships with other races than the rest, and the ones to do so have an astonishing knack for locating the one specific elf, orc, dwarf or any other who happens to find humans fuckable - and wherever the hybrid offspring aren't sterile, the human population of the area tends to aquire some majority-species blood and traits, mostly the distinct local traits of the human population of any area are cultural, taught and learned from the community.

Some elvish dialects don't have separate words for "half-elf", "a human born and raised in elvish lands", or "human who speaks fluent elvish and knows the customs", and even some elvish humans are surprised to hear that other cultures consider these to be completely separate concepts. As far as they're concerned, humans living among elves are all the same thing. Sometimes a person who's 75% elvish and only has one human grandparent, but was raised by the human side of their family, is considered human-among-elves.

And sometimes the divide between human poulations of different races and cultures is more stark than between the majority peoples themselves - while an orc clan and an elvish city-state might be willing to temporarily set aside their differences to work towards a mutual goal, the orcish humans and elvish humans among them might not.

While the human minorities among other races do have a distinct identity as humans of their own regions, this does not apply to goblins. Neither goblins nor the human populations among them make any distinction between the two at all. Both will refer to "their" humans as simply goblins, only specifying "a big one" if necessary, but even then you'll need to see the person in question to know whether they're talking about a human raised with goblins or just a particularly tall, physically large full-blooded native goblin. Goblins do not have a concept of personal property beyond "I had access to it and nobody stopped me from grabbing it, so therefore it's mine", and their humans are therefore goblins too.

Being one of the species combinations whose offspring are infertile, there's no goblin blood among their human populations save for the half-goblin individuals themselves, but considering that spontaneous adoption by simply herding unsupervised orphans into one's home is a commonplace, widely accepted practice and not any more unusual a way to start a family than having biological children, the individuals in question are largely unbothered by it.

While the humans-born-among-goblins aknowledge that they are human, they genuinely do not understand the concept of why one couldn't be both a full 100% human and a full 100% goblin at the same time. While humans from other cultures are confused and annoyed by their insistence, they'll have to agree that any person who'll come to your house as a guest (most likely unprompted and uninvited) and will just casually snatch a bug off your floor and eat it right in front of you, and then interpret the look on your face to mean that they were supposed to ask permission first is definitely a whole, entire full goblin.

The goblin-humans take this as a compliment.

[popquizhot-shot]

Magic

Moon Boys x reader<3

summary: you were married to Jake and after the events of moonknight, the boys get to know of jake and of you. Steven adores you but Marc just sees you as a friend. Right?

A/N: okay the timeline is a bit wonky but here's what i thought while writing the fic. Jake dated you for a year and a half before putting a ring on it. And you've been married for three years. You met Steven and Marc a year ago and have been dating Steven for eight months. Marc became friends with you a month after meeting you. please comment and reblog if you liked it!

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

@jake-g-lockley

Marc was a lot of things. Pig-headed, stubborn, horrible at communication, a fighter. But he wasn't arrogant He could admit it when he didn't know something.

But right now he knew one thing and one thing only, that Jake was a prime idiot.

Marc stayed in the background when Jake was fronting around you, most of the time. Not always, of course. He wasn't a perv and one to to intrude between a husband and a wife. But he knew you. So did Steven, and you knew them.

He'd considered you his friend. Maybe one of his best, just months after meeting you. You and him shared many a night after Jake's missions talking and watching movies, when your husband was knocked out. You made him fall in love with chai, something that knocked Steven's socks off and he'd taught you the basics of baseball so you weren't clueless when you watched baseball with him.

It wasn't always so nice.

"You're married?!"

"Yeah, what's your problem with that?" Jake had become defensive, he wouldn't let Marc or Steven breathe a single ill word towards you.

"No, it's no problem at all, pal." Marc seethed, outraged, "except for the fact that I was married to Layla! God what if she almost say you when we were married? No wonder it ended!"

"Fuck off, man. You know full well why your marriage didn't work out with Layla. And unlike her, I told my lady fucking everything. She knows everything, from the cave to the sarcophagus. So she knew what to do and what to be careful of, including you. So don't blame my marriage for the reason yours didn't work out."

This was when Steven had interjected, he was unsurprisingly on Jake's side.

"He's right, Marc. If his wife knows everything then you can't blame him, and it's honestly rather mean and unfair of you to be angry at someone you haven't even met."

It took a few hours for Marc to calm down, and actually, apologise to Jake.

Hesitantly, Jake offered, "Y'know, if you want you can meet her. She practically knows everything about you and uh, Steven's most probably seen her around. She goes to the museum every week."

"Wait a minute! That lady with the Van Gogh tote bag?"

"Yup."

"Oh wow! She's really sweet, and beautiful! Hell, mate. You scored."

Jake had to smile at that, he knew he scored with you. For the longest time he felt like you were too good for him and that someone as kind, clever, intelligent and beautiful as you shouldn't have had to settle for someone like him. But you'd kiss away every ill thought he had about himself and reassure him. Communication was a very, very vital and important part of the relationship and you had helped him learn that it wasn't selfish to voice his thoughts. Especially because he put everyone's needs before his for so long.

"I know, man."

Steven had readily agreed to front and meet you, and Marc was okay with being co-conscious during the interaction as well. So on one fine day, Jake had brought them to the house he considered his home. He worked to contribute to it's rent, and buy things for it and for you. It was home, after all. You were his home.

Marc didn't know what to expect but when Jake had stepped in and hung his jacket on the stand and taken his shoes off, footsteps could be heard running from the main bedroom and he saw you running straight into Jake's arms. Jake laughed wildly, picking you up and twirling you around, much to your delight as you kissed the life out of him.

When he put you down, he could get a clear glimpse of you. Your hair was messy and your t-shirt was rumpled. And when he saw you smile he knew why Jake had fallen in love with you. Why Steven thought you were beautiful and sweet. Verything about you screamed, home.

Your greeting to Jake threw both the boys off, "Who the fuck are you?"

Jake smirked, "The fuck you mean, ma?"

"I mean, who." you poked him once, "are." twice, "you?" thrice and Jake started giggling. Fucking giggling like some little schoolgirl. You laughed too, and hugged him tight.

"Hey, baby." he kissed your forehead and you smiled.

"Hi." you kissed his nose.

"I have two guys who'd like to meet you."he raised his eyebrows.

Your jaw dropped a little, "For real? Wait, you're being serious, you're not screwing with me?"

"Why would I screw with you, when I could just screw you?"

The men in his head and you all let out a simultaneous groan.

Steven met you first, and it went swell, you'd both bonded over history and literature. And a love for Taylor Swift. But that was a secret. You liked him a lot and he positively adored you.

Marc, on the other hand, was much more closed off, he'd be polite, but he'd be curt as well. A combination you didn't know was possible.

After a few weeks of trying to bond with him, resulting in almost a small meltdown. It had taken Jake being knocked out after a mission and being too tired to eat to actually get him to talk to you over a meal.

It was one of the best things he'd eaten in his goddamn life and the groan he'd let out after the first bite brought a laugh out of you.

So yes, Marc would consider you one of his best friends. Steven and you had started going out with each other a few months ago and it was going so well.

But not Marc.

Because he didn't like you like that.

Of course not, you were his friend.

You were his friend who made him laugh because you had the same dark sense of humour. You hugged him when he needed one but was too uptight to ask you. You, who googled the Cubs and learnt everything you could about them just so you could talk to him as well, the way you talked to Steven about Jane Austen and the Indus Valley.

He didn't know when it became something more to him.

And he didn't see how you'd look him at him when he laughed, or when he was focused on the TV, or when he made you tea the way you liked it, Jake had taught him how to do that.

No, to him, you were just his best friend.

And you were currently crying your eyes out because Jake and you had gotten into a huge fight. He'd missed your anniversary because of a mission and he was working with Hathor's avatar. He failed to mention the part where he was forced to pretend they were a thing to prevent being caught and you'd caught him smelling of her perfume and gotten rightfully furious.

Not because of her, but because he didn't tell you that it had been happening for a few days. That the week he'd spent away from you, he'd had to pretend he was someone else's and he was too scared to tell you. That's why you were mad, because you thought he didn't trust you.

You'd raised your voice as he turned his back on you and he turned around, face contorted in rage. Steven tried calming him down as he stalked over to you. You stood your ground, Jake would never lay a hand on you. You knew that. But it was what he said, that broke you.

"You're being a fucking nuisance. Instead of trying to understand, you're being more of a burden by finding shit to get mad at. Grow the fuck up."

That prime ass had the audacity to call you a burden. A nuisance.

And then he had the fucking nerve to leave and complete his mission and give control to Marc. Steven had chewed the fuck out of him and Marc would have loved to as well, but he needed to see you. See if you were okay.

As soon as he stepped in, he saw you on the sofa, rapidly wiping your tears away. You sagged again when you knew it was him. Somehow you always knew.

He furrowed his eyebrows at your disheveled state. Your eyes were swollen and wet with tears and you were breathing very heavily and in quick spurts.

"What do you need?" Marc asked you, sitting down beside you.

"C-can I have" you coughed, "a hug, Marc?" you said in a small voice, looking away.

Marc immediately moved to hug you close. Shushing you when you began to cry again.

What hurt was that he knew, and Jake knew, and Steven knew that you hated being a burden or an inconvenience to anyone. And today, the one man you trusted the most in this world had made you feel like that. And he couldn't even apologize.

'Jake you fucking idiot.' he rocked you a little, 'you better come out and fix this. she may be our friend but this is because of you, fix this.'

Jake remained silent in the reflection of the mirror next to the door. He looked wrecked at seeing you sob, and tears were falling down his own eyes.

'Mate.' Steven spoke up, he sounded mad, 'You made our girl cry. Stop being a fucking coward and fix this!'

When he was met with silence, Steven seethed, 'Marc, gimme the body.'

You knew exactly when it was Steven hugging you, and you kissed his cheek and breathed him in.

"Oh, love." he tried to comfort you, "I'm sorry. You're not a burden, I promise you." he kissed your forehead.

"I know that, Steven. I know I'm not a burden to you. I'm scared I'm becoming one to him. He doesn't even want to look at me!" you sniffed.

Steven glared at Jake in the mirror, who was wiping away his own tears.

Steven and Marc knew why Jake was so worked up. They knew that whoever Jake and Hathor's avatar was after called their bluff. They knew that those people had found the woman's partner and Jake was terrified for you and he couldn't even tell you because he never, ever wanted to be the reason for any feeling you had that wasn't bliss, happiness, content, or pleasure. And because he was sure he could find those assholes and beat the living shit out of them for even thinking of harming you.

But it wasn't their place to tell you, that much was apparent. Jake dug his grave, and then jumped into it. He had to crawl out of it on his own now.

"I just want to be someone he's happy to be with." you whisper and that's when Jake straightened up, heartbroken.

"Give me the body, hermano."

"All yours."

Only Jake scrunched the back of your shirts when he hugged you and you moved to hug him tightly as he whispered apologies in your ear.

"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I made you feel like you were a burden and that I was anything but fucking delighted to be with you." he kissed your nose and then told you everything. Looking away because he was scared.

"I didn't tell you at first because I didn't want to just say that I had to pretend I was dating someone else and then fuck off for a week. I made a mistake in assuming that'd you get mad and it's because if I was in your place, I would be. But you're stronger than me, tesoro, and I failed to see that and I'm so sorry."

"Baby, I forgive you." you replied and he breathed out a sigh of relief, "But please, don't keep stuff like this in, okay? You can trust me, you know that."

He nodded fiercely and then he kissed you. Noses nudging and lips parting as he breathed you in like you were his lifeline, and he yours. He cupped your face and held you tight against him and when he pulled away you smiled at him, your eyes shining.

Steven fronted again with a little smile and you kissed him lovingly with a whispered 'i love you'. He just winked at you and kissed the back of your hand and then your forehead again before Jake took back control and carried you to the bed, kissing you deeply all the way.

----

Marc was fine, no he just needed a glass of water. He'd carefully rolled off the bed, thankful that he was at least wearing sweatpants and padded to the kitchen.

He should have known that you were a light sleeper.

"Marc." you began, your voice raspy.

He hummed in reply and held out his glass to you. You accepted it and drank your fill, giving it back to him.

After a few more moments of silence, you spoke up, "I thanked Steven for comforting me. But I didn't thank you." you cleared your throat, "Thank you, Marc." you said, sincerely, "You're one of my best friends."

Marc smiled at you. Actually smiled. And you smiled back and kept going, "And Jake and Steven know this and are okay with it so I-"

"You don't have to thank me, honey." he patted your shoulder, trying to conceal his tears as he looked away because god he was dumb. Dumb enough to realize now, that he loved you, "I'm glad I'm your friend."

To him, you were everything. You were sunrays and moonbeams and everything that he believed was magical as a boy. Everything he stopped believing in as he grew up. The first time you made him laugh and joined him he felt sure that magic existed after all, because what else could you be?

He tried walking past you but you held his hand and he froze, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You walked over to him and held his face in your hands. His eyes shut as you wipe away his tears. And he whimpered as you kissed his forehead.

"Marc. Open your eyes and look at me." you said softly.

He was terrified. That you'd seen past his mask and were going to let him down gently. Because to you, what could he be? Certainly nothing more than a friend.

"Sweetheart. Please."

When his eyes finally opened, they met yours.

"Marc. I fucking love you." you confessed and he let out a sob. Pulling you into a tight hug.

"I love you. God I love you so much, Sweetheart." he says into your hair, kissing all over your face, but not your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" you asked him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

He nods and your hands travel to his locks and pull them lightly as you bring your lips to his own. Humming sweetly as he wraps his arm around you and licks into you.

Yes, he reasons yet again as you hold his face in your hands and smile at him, magic does exist. And it's in his arms. He loves it and so do the men in his head who cheer for him, albeit sleepily, looking at you lovingly.

And they'd never let you go.

[kakiastro]

4°, 16° & 28°: The Cancer Degrees

All cancers look like bunnies too me. Cute and adorable ☺️

Hey y’all!

Today, we’re discussing Cancer degrees! Degrees in astrology are very important. I refer to them as “Cake toppings” because I think they add an extra flavor to your chart and placements.

If any of your placements have Cancer degrees , then that particular placement has cancer influence.

Each degree has a different level to them from lowest to highest tiers.

4°

-this degree is level one of cancer. You are here to learn about family. Family may be a huge theme. You may not come from a stable family so you are here to learn what that is to you. Even if you did come from a good home, you’ll still come in contact with different kinds of family dynamics that you may find interesting. In past lives, family life may not have been a priority for you so you’re here to learn about it. You may struggle with trying to figure out what your role is in your family(the one you’re born into and you create)Emotions is the 2nd thing you come to learn and experience. You need to learn how to “feel” if you have air placements, you probably just shivered at that word😅 you could’ve been born into a family that lacks emotional intelligence or emotionally detached. You may have been taught to” keep your feelings to your self type of thing.” You’ll be put into situations that will make more aware and you’ll learn to express them as you age and experience life. You may encounter lots of water placements like Scorpio (who feels intensely), they can teach you a lot. You struggle with coming out your shell, you’ll be put in situations that force you too show yourself.

16°

-this degree is level 2 of cancer. people with this degree experience emotional intelligence at a young age. You could’ve been taught at a young age that it’s okay to show your emotions but learned to balance them. You may be close to one or 2 of your family members. People with this degree has an idea at an early age of what type of family they want to have, what they will or wont pass down to their children. You have a sense on what family should be like. You may encounter people with dysfunctional families that makes you appreciate yours a little bit more. Not saying your family is perfect because who’s is but you’ll see that they may had some things right. You may be a tad more outgoing than the 4° natives. You may have been pushed out your confront zone at an early age.

28°

-this is the highest level of Cancer. You are the Matriarch of your family. It doesn’t matter if you identify as she, he or them, you carry strong Mother energy. You came into this world knowing your role in the family and what you’re here to learn. You are the leader of your family, your earliest role models was probably your grandparent(s). You were close to them for a reason, they are here to pass on what they’ve learn, accomplished and failed at. You are picking up that mantle and breaking the curses and traumas, and starting the healing of your bloodline. This degree is known as “the household name” so you can bring lots of prestige to your family name , maybe the first to do so. I’ve seen this in a lot people married into a prestigious or well respected family. Even if your the last living one in your family, it’s your name that will stand the test of time.

Do you have any Cancer degrees? I’m open for readings!

[ellieswrldd]

about you

pairing: spiderman!ellie williams x female reader

summary: ellie is living a double life, one of a college student and one of a crime fighting hero. she wants you more than anything but is scared to put you in danger.

content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, oral sex (r!receiving), scissoring, use of alcohol and weed, ellie is kind of a nerdy loser, a little rushed! not proofread

a/n: writing this taught me that i should never try to estimate when i’ll finish something because “posting this week” quickly turned into “posting sometime this month”….sorry lmao. also this is inspired by the 1975 song!!

8:30 am

Good morning New Yorkers!

This was Ellie’s favorite part of the day. A bagel in one hand, the newest edition of Savage Starlight in her other, and her phone playing the morning newscast. 

Today is April 12th and it looks like another beautiful day…

Moments like these were the only times she felt at ease. Her university classes kept her busy and when she wasn’t studying or in class, she was off protecting the city. 

So, sitting on the rooftop of a building where nobody could bother her was Ellie’s idea of peace. 

It was easy to lose track of time while in her spot and Ellie always tried to keep an eye on the time, but it seemed to end the same way almost every day. 

We’re starting to see some traffic down by— 

The reporter was cut off by Ellie’s loud ringtone. She glanced at the caller ID and sighed softly when she saw it was her best friend Jesse calling. 

“Hey man, I’m kinda busy right now—” She said as she took a bite of her bagel. 

“Dude where the hell are you? Class started fifteen minutes ago and we have that big lab today!” Jesse whispered-shouted into his phone. 

“What are you talking about? I don’t have class on Thursday mornings,” She said. 

“Ellie, it’s Friday, we have class today,” Jesse said sharply, clearly irritated by Ellie’s lack of organization. She couldn’t blame him– he always needed her help during labs, and without her, it was likely he’d get a failing grade. 

“Oh shit!” Ellie groaned and began tossing her things back into her backpack. “I’m on my way right now, I swear.” She stated with her phone pressed against her ear by her shoulder. Stuffing her face with the last of her bagel, Ellie slid her backpack around her shoulders and stood up. 

The streets were beginning to bustle with activity and the sky was bright, New York was awake and ready for the day. Ellie pulled her mask over her face and jumped off the roof, flying towards her class with the flick of her wrist. 

—

10 pm

Going out was the last thing on your mind. You were still coping after a messy breakup, and partying didn’t sound like fun. The only reason you found yourself standing in front of a bustling frat house was because Dina had dragged you here. She had made a variety of arguments as to why you needed to come, mostly consisting of “You’ve been too sad, let’s get you laid!” or “I need you to be my wing-woman, Jesse will be there!”. Despite her nagging and desperation, you somehow ended up following her right to the party. 

“Dee I don’t feel great, maybe I should just go back home,” You mumbled and tugged at the skirt you wore. It was Dina’s and it was far too short for your liking. In the past, you loved partying and going out with friends, but at the moment all you wanted to do was curl up in your bed. 

“Just stay for a little bit, I promise you’ll have fun. It isn’t good for you to rot in bed every day anyways,” Dina linked her arm with yours and gave a soft smile. You sighed and nodded, she had a point. 

You stood in the frat, holding a red solo cup close to you. Dina shifted nervously beside you. 

“What if he changed his mind? Maybe he doesn’t want to see me,” She crossed her arms.

“Dina, he’ll show up, don’t worry.” You reassured her. “Have another drink, you need to chill out,” She shrugged and poured herself a drink. 

“Hey, Dina!” A man greeted your friend loudly, a bright smile on his face. Dina grinned and gave him a quick hug. 

“Jesse! I’m so glad you made it, I was starting to think you weren’t going to show,” 

“Sorry, Ellie was taking forever to get ready, slowed us down,” He laughed and shifted his gaze to you. “I’m Jesse, you must be y/n,” 

“Yeah, Dina’s told me a lot about you,” You glanced past him and looked at the girl standing awkwardly behind him. She was staring down at her phone, her lips pursed, clearly not excited to be there. 

“Oh, this is Ellie,” He turned and nudged Ellie with his elbow.

“Hi,” She offered an awkward smile and stood a little straighter. “Sorry, I don’t come to these things very often,” Ellie looked around at the frat, drunk partygoers dancing and screaming, the floor covered in red solo cups and sticky liquids, it wasn’t really her scene. 

“That’s alright, it’s nice to meet you,” You shook her hand. ��I’m going to go out and get some air,” You shouted into Dina’s ear and she nodded. Waving to Jesse and Ellie, you pushed past the crowds and made your way outside. 

The cool air against your skin was a relieving change. You leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. It was nice that Dina was looking out for you, but it was honestly overwhelming. 

“Mind if I join you?” You turned to look at Ellie, who stood a few feet away with her hands in her pockets. You simply nodded and tipped your head to the spot next to you. Without all of the flashing lights, you could get a good look at the other girl. A red flannel hung loosely around her frame, her short hair was in a messy half-up half-down style, and her face was covered in light freckles.

Ellie’s eyes lingered on you for a moment before she spoke again. “You look stressed,” 

“I guess that’s one word for it,” You chuckled. She dug her hand into her back pocket and pulled out a neatly rolled joint.

“Jesse gave me this, do you want some?” Your eyes lit up a bit at the sight of the joint and you looked back at her.

“How could I say no to such an offer?” Taking the joint, you held it between your glossy lips. “You got a lighter?” 

Ellie’s eyes widened slightly as she realized she had been staring at your lips. “Ah— yeah, here,” She took the lighter from her pocket and fumbled with it a few times before she got a steady flame. You leaned in and watched as the end began to burn. 

“You don’t smoke much, do you?” You giggled softly as your eyes drifted toward her. She watched you intently and shook her head. 

“No, not really,” You breathed out the smoke and offered her the joint. 

“Do you want to try?” Your voice was soft and sweet, Ellie couldn’t help but take the joint from your fingers. “Just breathe in slowly and then exhale,” She followed your instructions, still watching you as she took a drag. Coughing, Ellie passed it back.

The two of you passed the joint back and forth in silence, staring up at the night sky until you were able to drown out the loud noise of the party. 

“Jesse and Dina are definitely hooking up right now,” You blurted and started laughing. 

“Oh my god they totally are,” She shook with laughter. As your shoulders touched Ellie’s and you laughed until your cheeks grew tired, you realized that you were actually having fun. You hadn’t thought about your ex in hours. 

Eventually, Ellie offered to walk you back to your dorm, and you accepted gladly. 

The walk back was full of mindless giggles and seemingly innocent brushes against one another’s arms. Ellie leaned against the frame of your door as you fumbled with the key. 

“Do you want to come inside?” You muttered with a smile once you managed to get the door open. Ellie’s heart pounded at the offer and she could feel heat rush to her cheeks, but she found herself shaking her head no. 

“I—I’m sorry, I can’t,” She bit her lip and looked down at her sneakers. “I’ve gotta be up early tomorrow for work, but I’ll see you around, yeah?” You tried not to look disappointed but Ellie could see it on your face almost immediately. 

“That’s fine, see ya,” You sighed and closed the door with a small smile. 

Ellie could feel her heart sinking, and she almost regretted her words. Almost. She knew better than to get involved with someone while in her position, she could put you in a lot of danger, and it was too risky. 

The next few days were rough. Ellie seemed to be actively avoiding you for some unknown reason and it felt like Dina and Jesse were too wrapped up in one another to even notice you. Every time Jesse came over to see Dina, he used the same excuse to cover for Ellie’s absence. “She’s busy studying, couldn’t make it today.” 

“Hey, have you seen Ellie lately?” You asked Dina as the two of you walked to class.

“Huh? Oh, no, I haven’t, why?” Dina glanced at her phone before looking back at you.

“Well, I thought we kinda hit it off at the party, but I haven’t seen her since.” You sighed and trained your eyes on your shoes. “I invited her to come inside our dorm, but she said she had work and bolted,” 

Dina looked confused. “That’s weird, she doesn’t work in the mornings,” She shrugged. “I can invite her to come with us to that bar tonight, how about that?” Dina bumped her arm against yours.

“Sure, that’s great,” You smiled, relieved to see your best friend was still looking out for you. Her words stuck with you, why would Ellie lie to you? Maybe she was avoiding you.

That night, Dina got ready with you in your shared dorm. 

“Did she say she was coming?” You asked nervously as you stared at yourself in the mirror. 

“She just liked the message,” Dina snorted and rolled her eyes. “What an ass.”

You sighed. “She’s definitely avoiding me,” 

“I’ll have Jesse drag her ass down to the bar if she doesn’t show, don’t worry babe.” Dina pat your shoulder. “Are you ready to go? I think some of the other girls are there already.” 

“Oh, yeah.” You took one more glance at yourself. You wore a sparkly fitted dress, one that had been growing dusty in your dresser. It was pretty, but a little loud for your taste. “Let’s go before I change my mind,” Dina laughed and nodded.

The bar was busy already, filled with college students and their fake IDs, overpriced drinks in their hands. Dina ordered the two of you some drinks and you stood beside her at the bar. 

You couldn’t help but watch the door as Dina told some exaggerated story. You hated this, the feeling of self-doubt and disappointment that coursed through your body every time a girl let you down. It had only been a few weeks since your last girlfriend dumped you, and yet here you were repeating the same vicious cycle with another girl. 

Just as you were about to make an excuse to leave, the door to the bar opened and Ellie strolled in. She was by herself, fidgeting with her hands nervously as she looked around the room.  

You turned back to Dina before you could meet Ellie’s gaze. You had decided that if Ellie wanted to speak, she would have to come to you first. 

“Hey,” Ellie tapped your shoulder and stood beside you at the bar. 

“Hi Ellie,” You gave her a tight-lipped smile and took a sip of your drink. Ellie glanced at her shoes for a moment before speaking again. 

“Can we talk?” She asked quietly. Was she nervous?

“Sure, yeah, outside?” Ellie nodded and followed you out. 

“Okay, you wanted to talk so let’s talk.” You crossed your arms and faced her once you stood outside. 

Ellie took a deep breath and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I know this is kind of forward, but I like you, and I want to get to know you better, but—”

“But?”

“I’m just,” She sighed, seemingly frustrated. “I can’t, I can’t be around you,” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” You scoffed. 

Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose as she struggled to think of a reply. 

“It’s not a good idea,” She mumbled.

“You’re still not making any sense,” 

Ellie hesitated. “Can I show you something?” 

“Sure,” 

“You seriously can’t tell anyone about this,” Ellie glanced around. “Like anyone, not a single soul,” 

“Jesus, I get it, Ellie, I’ll keep whatever secret you’re sharing.”

Ellie nodded and took one more look to make sure nobody was nearby. 

“I’m, um, kind of like a superhero of sorts, like I fight criminals and protect people sometimes,” Ellie’s cheeks seemed to burn red as she spoke. “I just— I don’t want you to be put in danger because of it,” 

You stared at her for a moment before you laughed. “Is this some kind of joke? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! You’re a superhero? Forget it, I’m going home, Ellie,” You turned away and began to walk toward the bar. 

Ellie reached out and grabbed your arm. “No, I swear I’m not lying, I can prove it!” She said frantically. 

“You can prove it?” 

“I can,” She nodded. 

“Okay, prove it.” Ellie nodded and offered her hand to you. 

“Let’s go to my dorm, I can show you there,” 

“Are you trying to get me to sleep with you?” Ellie rolled her eyes. 

“Not at the moment, no. Would you just come with me?”

“Alright then, let’s go,” 

The walk to Ellie’s dorm wasn’t long, but the tension between you and her made it feel insufferable. 

“Here we are,” She nodded toward the building and unlocked the front door. Ellie led you up a few flights of stairs before finally arriving at her room. 

Ellie’s dorm room was covered in colorful posters and pictures. A small telescope was leaned against the wall by her window, comic books were stacked high on her nightstand, and some science textbooks were left open on her desk alongside scattered papers and assignments. 

“This is cute,” You muttered as you ran a hand along her navy blue bed sheets and looked around the room.

“Oh, thanks. You can just make yourself at home,” She smiled and went to open her closet. 

You sat on her bed and watched her rifle through her clothes. “How do you plan on proving this?” You asked, slightly amused by this whole situation. 

“Just wait and see, I don’t think you’ll find it funny in a minute.” She said, glancing over her shoulder to look at you. Ellie finally pulled out a hanger covered by a black zip-up cover. 

She held the hanger up and unzipped the cover, letting it fall to the floor. Underneath the cover was a bright red and blue suit. 

“What is that? Some sort of cosplay outfit?” You snorted.

Ellie narrowed her eyes at you. Without a response, Ellie slipped off her flannel and started tugging her shirt off. 

“What are you doing?” You gasped and covered your eyes. 

“I’m just changing, don’t cream your pants.” She said sarcastically. Ellie stepped into the suit and pulled it on. 

The suit itself seemed good quality, it was a shiny, bright red with black and blue highlights, and it fit her like a second skin. With a closer look, you could see the little details of the suit were designed to resemble a spider web of sorts. 

“This is what I wanted to show you,” She said and held out her hands. On each wrist was a complicated gadget that wrapped around her wrist and lay in the palm of her hand.

You reached out to touch the device but Ellie pulled her hands away. 

“Don’t touch them, you’ll regret it.” She said with a small smile. 

“What do they do?” 

“I’ll show you,” She walked across the room to her window and pulled it open. “C’mere,” 

You went and stood by her side, an anxious feeling bubbling in your stomach. Ellie reached behind her head and pulled the mask of the suit over her face. 

“Do you trust me?” She asked, her arm snaking around your waist. 

“Do I have a choice?” Ellie laughed and pulled you closer to her side. 

“Hold onto me, and uh— don’t look down,” Before you had time to ask her what that meant, Ellie flicked her wrist and sent the two of you swinging out of her window. 

As you flew through the air, all you could hear was the wind blowing past you and the sound of your screams. It was then that you started to believe that Ellie could be telling the truth. 

“Ellie Williams put me down right now!” You screamed as you watched the buildings fly past you in a blur. 

“Calm down, we’re almost to my spot.” 

Ellie slowed down and stopped on a rooftop. She pulled her mask off. “This is my favorite spot in the city.” Ellie helped you find your feet and kept a hand on your lower back. From the rooftop, you could see the glittering lights of the city life and the usual noise seemed to be quieter. 

“That’s great and all but I think I might vomit,” You let out a shaky breath and sat down. “You wanna explain what the fuck you just pulled?” You looked up at her.

Ellie grinned and sat next to you. “The nausea will pass, just take deep breaths. As for that,” Ellie showed you the gadget on her wrist. “They’re web shooters, I made them myself. They shoot something similar to spider webs, but much stronger.” 

“So what, you’re like a spider-girl or something?” 

“Well, when you say it like that you make it sound childish.” Ellie chuckled.

“Okay Spider-Woman, why is this stopping you from taking me out?” 

“I’m scared,” She sighed. “I already put myself in so much danger by doing this, do you know how much worse it would be if I had to worry about keeping you safe as well? I can’t guarantee that you’ll be protected from everything I deal with, and I can’t even imagine what it would be like for you if I ended up hurt or worse.” 

You stared at her for a moment and reached out to rest your hand on top of hers. 

“You’re forgetting that I’m my own person, Ellie, I can make those decisions for myself. You don’t have to protect me, I can do that on my own.” 

Ellie, careful not to touch the web-shooter on her palm, squeezed your hand gently. “I want you and I want this so bad, you have no idea,” 

“Show me,” You murmured as you turned to face her. Ellie let out a shaky breath and leaned in. 

Your lips tasted exactly how Ellie had imagined they would. They were sweet, presumably from the lipgloss you always used, or maybe you just always tasted like cherries, Ellie couldn’t tell, all she knew was that she wanted more. 

“Let’s go back to my dorm,” She murmured as her lips chased yours. 

“Okay,” You agreed, every thought in your head was focused on Ellie, and suddenly the only thing you cared about was getting that comic-book-looking costume off of her body. 

The quick trip back to her dorm wasn’t as scary as the first, though you weren’t sure if you could ever get used to the way your stomach dropped every time she swung. 

The moment your feet were on the floor of her dorm, Ellie had you pushed up against the door, her lips traveling down your bare neck. Your hands ran down Ellie’s back in search of a zipper or button to take off the suit, but you grumbled in frustration when you failed to find one.

“How do you take this fuckin’ thing off?” You muttered while Ellie ran her fingers along the hem of your dress. She laughed softly against your skin.

“The zipper is right here,” She whispered into your ear, taking your hand and guiding it to the side of her torso. Hidden beneath her arm and within the detailing of the suit was a tiny zipper. 

Your lips met hers again, and while you slowly dragged the zipper down, you let your other hand slide around her waist. 

And just before you were able to completely unzip the suit, a loud banging on Ellie’s door startled you both.

“Yo, Ellie, you in there?” It was Jesse, and he sounded very drunk. Your eyes widened as you looked at Ellie, waiting for her to say something. 

Ellie held a finger up to her lips and signaled for you to keep quiet. She was sure that if Jesse assumed she wasn’t home, he’d find someone else to bother. 

Jesse banged on the door a few times and groaned loudly when he realized Ellie wasn’t answering. You sighed softly once you heard him shuffle away. 

“Where were we?” Ellie smiled and pulled you close to her. Finally, you were able to pull down that zipper and the suit came loose enough for Ellie to pull off. 

Ellie slid her fingers under the straps of your dress and let them fall down your shoulders. “Can I take this off?” She asked.

You simply nodded. 

As if trying to tease, Ellie slid one strap down at a time, then moved onto the zipper, which she pulled down as slowly as she possibly could. 

After what felt like years of waiting, your dress fell to the floor, pooling at your feet. 

The feeling of Ellie’s skin against your own was everything you needed. She was warm and gentle, even her calloused fingers felt like butter on your skin. 

Hungry for more of her, you reached out and ran your fingers along the waistband of her black boyshorts. Everything about her drove you insane, the sight of her in the simple black sports bra and boyshorts that she wore was enough to make you go practically feral. 

Ellie followed your lead and copied your moves, tracing the waistband of your panties, then going further and dipping her fingers inside. Ellie could’ve sworn that the gasp you let out when she brushed against your clit was enough to make her cum, god she was already completely soaked just by standing there with you. 

“You’re so wet,” She breathed and her fingers slid against your pussy again. 

“Fuck,” You whined. 

Ellie pulled her fingers from your underwear and licked them clean. 

“I gotta have more of you,” Ellie said desperately.

“Then stop talking and do it,” You bit your lip. Your words were the last bit of confirmation she needed. Ellie grabbed your thighs and picked you up with ease.

Just as quickly as you had said those words, Ellie had swept you off your feet and sat you right on her bed. Your legs spread and her head in between them. 

She didn’t waste time taking off your panties, she couldn’t stop herself after she had that first taste. Ellie’s lips brushed against your cunt almost hesitantly but soon enough she was diving into you like she was starving. Your hips bucked up against her tongue as you searched desperately for release. Ellie’s hand snaked up around your thighs and held you down, causing you to whine out loudly. 

“God, you taste so good…” She groaned against your cunt.

“I’m getting close,” You gasped as you felt Ellie swirl her tongue around your clit. 

“We just started, baby,” Ellie chuckled and ran her tongue up along your slit. “Think you can wait a few more minutes? You just look so pretty like this…” She squeezed your thigh and looked up at you with a playful smirk. 

You stared at her, stunned by how she could be so dirty when she was the same girl who had been nervous to talk to you at the bar. How could she look so sexy when her chin and nose were both glistening with your slick and her hair was messy from you pulling on it? Was this the same girl who had choked after taking a drag from a joint?

“Please…” You moaned loudly and let your head fall back against the mattress. Ellie pulled away and kissed the inside of your thigh. 

“Fine, but only because you asked so nicely,” She smiled and stood up, pulling her underwear down and straddling your hips. “I wanna cum with you…” She mumbled as she leaned down and kissed you gently. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips once you felt Ellie position her cunt against yours. Ellie let out a whiny moan and slowly rolled her hips forward, drawing out a loud sigh from you. Your bodies moved together slowly as if you were performing some heavenly dance. 

Her wet folds grinding against yours seemed to stop every thought in your head. You couldn’t recall the last person who had made you feel nearly this good– hell, you could barely form a coherent sentence. You reached out and grabbed Ellie’s hands, intertwining your fingers and squeezing her hands gently. 

“God, Ellie I can’t–” You stuttered and squeezed your eyes shut. 

“I know, me too…me too,” She groaned and tossed her head back. It wasn’t hard to tell by the way her thighs were beginning to shake or the loud profanities leaving her mouth that Ellie was just as close to orgasm as you were. 

It only took a few more moments before you came completely undone. A hot, sudden pleasure overcame you just as Ellie climaxed. As soon as the pleasure lulled, Ellie climbed off you and settled down next to you on the bed. 

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” Ellie whispered and turned to look at you. 

“What?” You giggled. 

“This,” She said and slid her arm around your waist. “I would’ve been more…romantic. Take you out to dinner, maybe show you all my favorite rooftops, I would’ve made this special.” 

You cupped her cheek and ran your thumb along her cheekbone. “I think tonight was pretty special. It was the best night I’ve ever had.” 

Ellie’s cheeks flushed slightly and a stupid smile tugged at her lips. “Don’t say that, it’ll inflate my ego.” 

“Alright then,”  

“Hey, promise me you won’t tell anyone about my–”

“Your secret identity? Trust me, I’ll take your secret to the grave.” 

“Thank you.” Ellie took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back. “I just want to keep you safe,”

“I know,” You sighed. 

On her nightstand, Ellie’s phone buzzed. You passed her the phone without hesitation. 

‘Active robbery occurring at…’ The headline flashed across her home screen. 

You watched as Ellie sat up and started grabbing her clothes off the floor. It had barely been ten minutes since the two of you had finished and she was already getting ready to run off and stop crime. 

“I’m so sorry, I just–” 

“You have to go,” You smiled and watched her slip into the suit. 

“Sorry,” She murmured, leaning down to kiss you before pulling the mask over her face. 

“Good luck and be safe,” You waved as she leaped out of the window and swung into the darkness of the night.

[asidian]

One thing I've spent a lot of time thinking about is how quickly Charles opens up to Crystal, and why it was he showed her things that he's kept from Edwin for thirty years.

The first component is, I think, because she needs him to.

Charles is, at his core, an extremely supportive person. He tries so hard for everyone around him, unfailingly. He's there for Edwin and Crystal, emotionally and physically, throughout the series. He tries to put on a happy face to keep everyone's spirits up, because at his core, he needs to be needed. He desperately wants people to like him, and his always-cheerful act is at least in part meant as an offer of support to others.

Not only that, but he routinely puts his own needs and wants aside in favor of giving others what they need instead. (I go more into how that affects his relationship with Crystal here and with Edwin here.)

So it's interesting to note that the first time he opens up to Crystal, it isn't for his own sake. Crystal is saying that it's hard not to be able to go home.

And what does Charles do? He reaches out in the way he thinks she needs.

He shows her his parents.

It's his way of saying that he gets it. He understands where she's coming from. It is hard not to be able to go home. And won't she let them help?

But it's interesting that this is something that he hasn't shown Edwin.

Not only hasn't he shown Edwin, but he still doesn't want Edwin to know. He specifically asks Crystal not to tell him.

So, why?

Well... just like he thinks Crystal needs to hear it, Charles thinks that Edwin doesn't.

One of the very first things he learned about Edwin is that he escaped from hell. Charles says that Edwin has told him a lot about it. And from the very first episode, it's extremely clear that Edwin doesn't shy away from talking about his time there.

So we've got Charles, a consummate people-pleaser who's desperate for approval, faced with this boy who just did the kindest thing anyone has ever done for him. We've got Charles, who supports the people he cares for as naturally as breathing, faced with a boy he cares dearly for, and that boy is dealing with decades of trauma.

So what does Charles think that boy needs? He needs someone to help him. He needs someone to be kind, and optimistic, and cheerful, because Edwin's time in hell has taught him to always expect the worst.

So Charles stuffs his own issues down somewhere deep because Edwin needs him to put on a cheerful face.

That's the first part.

The second reason why Charles opens up to Crystal so quickly is, I think, circumstantial.

She happens to be there during the Devlin house fiasco, when he's being faced by very visceral, unavoidable reminders of his own abuse. She's literally in the room when he reads Hope's diary, and from what we see and hear about Charles' family life, everything in that diary mirrors what Charles went through.

Hope's father has very strict rules. She's walking on eggshells. She never knows what's going to set him off.

Charles relates deeply to all of those things, and seeing his own thoughts and feelings spelled so clearly out on the page is enough to bring him to tears.

He's looking at this girl who, like him, struggled constantly to be good enough and constantly fell short.

For the first time in three decades, Charles is confronted with a situation that mirrors his own home life, one to one, and Crystal is there for it in real time.

She's able to see him put the mask down because she's there when it cracks.

Which brings us around to the third component.

And this one is a little more speculative, but hear me out.

Picture one Charles Rowland, circa 1989.

His dad beats the shit out of him on the regular. He thinks it's because he can never quite manage to be good enough, even though he's trying as hard as he knows how. His mother never defends him or speaks up for him.

His so-called friends? They'll beat him to death later this same year.

He's bi, but the AIDS epidemic is in full swing, and even if it wasn't, he's busily pretending the part of him that likes boys doesn't exist, because he looked at a boy the wrong way once, or maybe even kissed one, and his father beat the shit out of him for it.

So with a dire home life and the world's worst friends, what's left? Where's this boy who's desperate for a little kindness going to look for it?

Well, the only option that's left.

Charles is starved for approval and affection both, and for most of his short life, he's got exactly one avenue available to get either of them.

Girls his own age are safe.

They don't hurt him. They don't stand by and let his father beat him. They don't turn on him and literally murder him, when they don't get their way.

After he dies, he's got Edwin, and Edwin is everything to him. But for thirty long years, Edwin's sexuality and romantic inclinations are so far under wraps that they may as well be in another galaxy.

Edwin is kind, but he's stilted and does poorly with people. Edwin values Charles dearly, but he's awkward at expressing physical affection. Edwin cares about Charles a great deal, but he shies away from strong emotions. (If you're interested, I talk more about Edwin vs emotions here.)

So of course Charles would miss kissing. That's the only chance he's ever had, as far as experience has taught him, to earn any kind of physical affection.

And Crystal, when she comes along, falls directly into that "safe" category in his brain.

[nostalgicmiscellaneous]

I was reflecting on Violet's talk about Colin's sensitive nature and made me think that truly he's a bit of a loner in their home, isn't him? It's like he is the one that needs to keep on trying and when he does something for himself, he's questioned, belittled or ignored. When Colin was thinking that he should marry and forge his own way, to be taken serious, he told Violet exactly that, Anthony shut him down by simply saying he should have taken him to brothels... and there you go, folks, where Colin's example of how a single man should behave comes from. He thought courting a girl everyone wanted was him being taken serious but the brother he admires, told him that, and made he believe that's what a man of their position should behave at his age. So Maybe if he does, if he acts like them, he's going to find his own path & find his own happiness, he thinks. When Colin travels, he keeps writing home, wanting to communicate with his family and loved to hear back from them, and also because he really loves to write - and is good at it -, but they rarely if ever ( some) do. And that's why he was always happy that Pen did, as he was mostly ignored and even mocked for that, they were being quite dismissive of him. We know how he also doesn't truly feel like he belongs and that's one of the reasons he went away, run away. Sure, he loves to travel but we know it's also to free himself of the whole 'Colin Bridgerton' he thinks he should be. When Colin tries to make something, do business of his own, but is something out of his depth as he was never prepared for it - Anthony was the heir to the title and older, likely was taught by his father some things already and maybe Colin and Benedict would too but had no time and Anthony never guided him that way, it seems - he was screamed at and, once again, thought he had truly no purpose. Losing his father way younger than Anthony was a huge trauma too. As much as Violet is a good mother, in that context, losing his father put him without a fundamental support and counsel a young men would need at that time, specially on his late teens and young men years. Still, he's very sweet, a soft guy who worries about his family, just look at every situation that he truly is there wanting to support, a romantic and quite naive in the matters of emotions. A kind guy who always wants to make others happy and defend people when he thinks they are being taken advantage of, were wronged or need his help just to feel happy. And yet the only person that actually has always ever done that for him, in every aspects - attention, protection, love, interest and engaging on his life -, is Pen, his kindred spirit.

[leviathanleva]

Father

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Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader

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Request:

This is kind of a weird req and I want to write something for it eventually but-

Fem! Reader who was frozen but eventually escapes and falls for the Ghoul and they fuck a couple times and for some reason she has symptoms of pregnancy and they're like what the fuck but it just turns out that she was pregnant before she was frozen and the Ghoul's reactions and whatever. Angst or fluff I don't really mind :)

........................

[3.2k words]

[MDNI, Angst, Smut, Fluff]

[ I don't usually do requests, but I wanted to help out a friend who believed they wouldn't be able to do justice to this prompt. It's sloppy, not perfect, but time is limited and I have other projects that need my attention so I hope this suffices. ]

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Freedom.

Freedom was sweet.

Freedom was bitter.

Since the moment you’d awoken in that Gods-forsaken cryo pod in that wasting away vault you’d known there was no other path except the path of freedom. Stepping over mummified corpses, fellow vault dwellers you presumed, you’d lead wobbly legs and a pounding heart to the entrance of the vault. It felt like yesterday you’d first set foot in there. In reality, you had no idea how many years had passed, but from the looks of the rusting walls and thick blanket of dust, it had been a while.

You took what you could, stuffing a stray children’s backpack you’d found along your scavenging mission, anything and everything that would be necessary for a journey into a land you used to call home. A small pocket knife was the best you could get and it wasn’t the perfect self-defense tool, but with no other choice there wasn’t much you could do but stuff it in the pocket of your suit and hope for a miracle if you ran into trouble.

And trouble you found.

Since your first step into the bone-dry, scalding hot, merciless wasteland, you’d found trouble in the shape of a deranged group of people hammering at the vault door with makeshift weapons. You might have been able to fight off one of them, you doubted given how dizzy and out-of-touch with reality you were, but there was a slim chance. Three of them though, all large burly men with enough scars to put a military general to shame? No, that was impossible. You ended up a writhing mess on the ground, face pushed into the cracked soil and screaming and kicking as you were being taunted and tied up like a good catch after a successful hunt. Trafficking, cannibalism, organ harvesting, death. A slew of words so vile they made your stomach churn and your eyes bulge out of your skull because who in their right mind said such things to an outnumbered, weak woman who pleaded in a broken voice and had tears staining her cheeks?

Then he appeared, your guardian angel.

A man so grotesque on the outside, so vicious and bitter and terrifying, and yet he was the one who shot your captors down. He was the one who cut your wrists and ankles free and helped you sit up as you heaved and choked and sobbed. He was the one who checked you over despite the visible revulsion on his gaunt face at the sight of your vault suit. He’d dragged you to your feet, forced some sense into you, given you a stern reality check of the world he came from and never really shooed you away when you’d started following him around like a lost pup.

You loved him since that day.

And maybe it wasn’t the good kind of love because he’d used you as a distraction for his enemies more than once and never shared his water with you even if you were on the brink of passing out from dehydration. But he also let you sit close to the fire at night, told you stories of his bounty hunts, taught you how to handle a gun and always kept you in his sights lest someone thought you were up for grabs. He was a cruel man, but he was also a kind man.

You never overstepped. Always following his every order, whether it was to hide, to strip bleeding men of their valuables, or to get him another drink when his feet were kicked high and he couldn’t be bothered to do so himself. Always pliant, always willing, no questions asked because you wanted to live despite the hellhole reality you were thrust in. Maybe that’s why he grew fond of you over time, you didn’t rebel against him and took what he gave you with a whisper of gratitude. A good dog, that’s how he saw you. He slowly softened for you, split your rations evenly when you sat down to eat, thrust the canteen in your hands when he noticed your lips were dry, and smushed his hat over your head when the sun was too awful and you were too delicate to withstand it.

Cooper Howard, that was his name, a man made ghoul by the sheer toxicity of the surface, a man who gave you enough scraps to keep your love for him flourishing but never progressed things beyond a one-sided infatuation.

That is until he was left struggling on the floor of an old abandoned farmhouse, a feral ghoul looming above him and pinning him in place and snapping its jaws at him as foul-smelling, viscous drool dribbled down its chin. His hunting knife was gripped tightly, but between keeping himself from being bitten to shreds and holding one of the ghoul’s hands at bay before it could sink into his side and tear at his gut, he was stuck.

When the shot rang out and the ghoul slumped against him lifelessly, he saw you. Holding his gun as you shook violently, about ready to piss yourself because you’d never killed anything remotely resembling a human in your life, eyes wide and lips trembling and knees buckling. Smoke leisurely rose from the tip of the barrel and as he pushed the corpse off himself you sunk to your arse and burst into a fit of haggard breaths and disturbed whines.

You didn’t resist when he picked you up with alien tenderness, didn’t protest when he stuffed you in an old rickety couch and crushed you beneath his weight with a handful of sweet praises. You didn’t pull away in disgust when his tongue pushed past your lips in search of your own, twirling, dancing, letting words spill without ever being spoken. He wasn’t gentle, since the moment you heard his belt unbuckling he was all pawing hands and chopped curses, fiddling with your clothes until his need became too much to bear and he simply ripped them off. He threw a weak promise to get you new ones, but you couldn't care less at that moment. High-pitched mewls and desperate grunts bounced off the walls as he took you on that couch, rutting into you like a man possessed and gripping onto you so firmly as if you’d come to your senses any moment now and run away from him.

A radstorm raged outside, clashing against the boarded-up windows as the pitter-patter of acid rain poured against the tin roof. You never even noticed, too drunk on the sloppy sounds coming from the slick mess of your conjoined bodies, on the verge of a climax so raw it would surely knock you out. Blunt fingernails sank in your supple thighs, scarred hips slammed into yours as he fucked you dumb into the couch. His mouth never left yours, whether it was to keep himself quiet in case too many loving words escaped or because he craved your taste like a rabid dog did blood, you didn’t know. When your ankles locked around his waist he snarled, whatever self-control he’d managed to scrape by completely dissipating as he drove himself deeper. The tip of his cock snapped against the barrier of your squishy cervix so deliciously and you screamed his name in desperation and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He released one of your hips to slide a hand between your bodies and drag his rough thumb over your swollen clit. Your back arched, eyes rolled back and mouth agape as you bombarded him with barely coherent sentences that he didn’t deserve. He clutched at your hair when you clamped down on him, milking him for everything he had while he rocked out his release with face stuffed in the crook of your neck.

Something in him changed after that night.

It might have been the unfathomably long time without a caring touch or him finally succumbing to the little voices in his head telling him what he held for you wasn’t simply fondness. He took you every chance he got. In a guest house, against the wall of a bar after one too many drinks, bent over on a chewed-up fence after scavenging another farmhouse. He was relentless and you loved that about him. You loved everything about him. Always needy and ready and he couldn’t ask for more because this was the closest he could get to expressing himself when it came to you.

Life was good.

Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

You wince as the needle prickles your skin before retracting back in the Pip-boy. The green screen whirls, loading up and analyzing your blood sample for a full body scan. You give the damn thing a few smacks when it freezes and stutters.

Now really wasn’t the time for technical difficulties.

“You okay?”

Apparently, no matter how hard you had tried to hide your bubbling panic, it was still evident enough for Cooper to notice. He’s looking at you with a hint of suspicion, attention averted from the steaming can of cram he’d been stuffing in his mouth.

“I’m good, no worries.” you muster up a weary smile and instinctively tuck the Pip-boy closer to your stomach.

When the Vault Boy pops up on the screen with all the information available regarding your condition, you tense up. Your fingers hesitate to turn the cog to the main body scan as doubts and confusion and raw, untamable fear chew at your sensitive stomach and tug you slowly towards the gates of insanity.

“Don’t look okay to me.” Cooper straightens from his slouched-over position over the measly fire and sets aside his food before clasping a hand over one of his thighs. “Was wrong? Was I too rough again?” there’s a teasing scowl brightening his usually stoic expression, he scoffs and shakes his head. “I told you t’ smack my shoulder when I get too loose, woman. You never listen.”

You want to cry and laugh, but you do neither.

“That’s not it, Cooper.”

“Then speak for fuck’s sake!” he grumbles and gestures to you with slight agitation.

You pay him no mind, having delved too deep in the premises of your mind on what you were supposed to do if you read that single life-changing word on the scan. With a huff and a mental pat on your back, you turned the cog and opened the main body scan.

“Pregnant.”

It made sense. It explained the morning sickness that you hid, being forced out of your sleep while Cooper snored lightly next to you, and carefully pulling away before rushing to a safe spot where you could empty your stomach without being seen. You never told him, just jammed RadAway after RadAway, hoping it was poisoning or maybe some sort of flu. When the cravings came, you started second-guessing. You never gave into them, throwing caps left and right for a slice of some nearly impossible-to-get delicacy was unthinkable, you had to survive and there was no room for luxury.

You failed to spot the rugged ghoul as he left his seat and crept closer, spurred by your awkward demeanor, until he was kneeling right next to you and silently sharing the sight of the green graph.

“What in the hell…”

You recoiled at his words, at his realization, and tried to cover the Pip-boy with your hand and hide the thunderous revelation of your condition.

He was having none of it.

He smacked your hand away and gripped your forearm so tight you shuddered, bringing it closer to his eyes as his face contorted.

“What the fuck does this mean?” he spits and looks at you with something vile in those whiskey-colored eyes you loved so much.

“I don’t – ” you swallow thickly, crumbling under his gaze and snuffing out the need to rip away from him and run. You meet his stare for a split second before turning away. “ – I haven’t…Not with anyone except you.”

Lightning strikes into his core and he pulls away like bitten by a snake.

“The hell you mean you haven’t fucked anyone ‘cept me?” he stands, intimidating and cold, berating you with just his visage and nothing more. “How the fuck did you get pregnant then?”

“I’ve been with you since the day I left the vault, you know this.” you reach out for him, desperate for some sort of comfort, desperate for him to calm down because you couldn’t mentally take on both him and the news. “Cooper, please.”

He shoots you down with a snarl and a spine-chilling glare.

“Don’t fucken’ touch me.”

He’s pacing, trotting around like a cornered animal, the spurs on his boots clinking, a sickening cacophony that roots you in place and keeps your mouth shut. You don’t know what to say, you’re not a liar, yet you wish this was some twisted joke and you could laugh it off and confirm it wasn’t real.

A hand is rubbing vigorously at his chin as he tries to think, but there’s nothing in his head except that one single word that means so much and makes absolutely no sense.

He knew you weren’t lying, he’d always kept you within arm’s length, there was no way for you to even sneak past him without being noticed.

It still hurt though, the image of you leaving because he was a rotten man who’d struck gold by finding you. He was no good for you, never would be, and it tore him to shreds because he knew all of this and still he kept you by his side and cocked his gun at anyone who tried to step too close.

Why wouldn’t you bed another man when he looked like a walking corpse and acted even worse? Why wouldn’t you ditch him to be with a nice bartender or a good-mannered farmboy who would treat you like a lady should be treated?

Why wouldn’t you cheat him out of the only happiness he had?

“Is not fucking possible, Sweetheart.” he finally speaks, faltering at your audible sobs. The idea of you slipping past his fingers to sleep with someone else is pushed to the side by the absolutely pathetic sight of you curled up on the floor and crying.

Ghouls were sterile, all of them, 100%, there was no way for him to knock you up even if he wanted to. But the Pip-boy said otherwise and now he was left questioning the very foundation of his existence.

“I know that.” you sputter through choppy hiccups. “But you’re the only man I’ve been with...It doesn’t make fucking sense.” you clutch at your sides, waterfalls streaming down your cheeks and pooling under your chin, eyes distant and jittery. “What if it’s deformed because of the radiation? Or if it’s not even alive? Or – What am I supposed to do…”

His body moves despite his protests.

He kneels in front of you, encasing you between his thighs, his fingers twitching and rising as he drowns in the long-forgotten feeling of being presented with such news. His hands are shaking and he rests them over your shoulders and pretends he can’t feel his pulse rampaging in his throat.

“What do you wanna do?”

It’s such a simple question, but coming from him under such a premise makes your head spin and your heart stop.

“I – ” you press your forehead against the center of his collarbones, arms protectively curling over your belly because despite not showing there was someone in there. Someone precious. “ – I don’t know…I’d like to – I don’t know.”

You stop and start, cutting off words that you weren’t ready to tell him yet and he wasn’t ready to hear either. But life didn’t care if you were ready or not, things happened, consent or not, and now you were both stuck in a mess you’d unwittingly made all by yourselves. There was always the easy route – find a settlement, get to the doc, have it removed, done deal, easy peasy.

But did you really want that?

It wasn’t just your kid, it was his too and him not saying a word, not even mentioning discarding it made things so much harder.

No, he gave you a choice, he put everything in your hands and he was holding you while you fought a silent battle that would dictate the entirety of your future.

“I think – ”

“ – I ain’t goin’ fucken’ nowhere.” he slices through your hesitation like butter, body rigid and jaw clenched because for once he was trying to be a man and not a monster.

Maybe even a father.

You shatter in his arms like glass and he presses one of his palms against the back of your head while the other circles your waist and brings you closer.

“You’d stay?” you ask with such horror and disbelief that it clutches at his chest and he struggles to breathe. You’re no coward, despite how heavy the air feels, you look up at him and you’re so vulnerable and angelic that he forgets every setback that would come his way. “If I kept it…you’d stay?”

He can’t answer, the words refuse to form, but he holds your gaze with calm stability, a good masquerade to hide a mind that was racing and a heart that was pounding so heavily he felt his entire body pulsing. Instead, he leaned in and pressed his chapped lips against your forehead in a voiceless promise.

You suck in a breath like it’s your first and cling to the collar of his coat, disappearing in his form, hiding from the world that was so cruel yet gifted you with something so precious.

The Pip-boy is still lit and waiting, the scan bright and piercing. You skim over it absentmindedly, a simple curious flick, then look again and squint your eyes at the tiny text printed under your pregnancy announcement.

“Four months.”

You’d only been out of cryo for three…

He followed your wide-eyed stare, he was no fool, he could do basic math.

You’d been pregnant before meeting him, before leaving the vault, before the bombs.

You want to puke. You want to rip your skin off and bury yourself alive because for the love of God it couldn’t be just perfect, there had to be some sick underlying thing to ruin everything. It wasn’t his, he was right, ghouls couldn’t have children.

It wasn’t his child.

You look disgusted and utterly pained because the realization makes you mourn at the idea of carrying his baby. You wanted to, you’d give anything for it to be his and not some random bloke you couldn’t even remember the face of. You wanted it to be his…

You search his face for anger or disappointment or anything that would prepare you for what was to come. Why would he stay if the damn thing wasn’t even his? He had his own problems, his mission. You were just an obstacle that had nearly made him believe he was going to be a father and maybe it was his second chance at doing it right.

There was nothing though.

He simply blinked at you, lips parted as he formed a sentence that had you pledge yourself to him for as long as you stood and breathed.

“That don’t change a damn thing.”

Masterlist

Tag list: @bountydroid @v3lv3tf0x @silverose365

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve’s mother was the black sheep of her family.

Stella hated the snow, and the isolation of the small town she grew up in. Hated the bright colors, and sheer friendliness of the neighbors. How everyone was always involved in each other’s business, at all times--and how getting involved meant sharing.

Giving up your time for the greater good.

‘We’re one big family!’ Her father had told her, and hadn’t understood why she found the concept utterly revolting.

Just like she couldn’t understand why they never agreed with her ideas. Things would run so much more smoothly with more rules, better regulations. They didn’t need to rely on magic when they had spreadsheets.

Who cared if some people were upset? If some of the workers where put out of jobs, or “hurt” by her changes?

That was how evolution worked.

The strongest survived, and the business world demanded only the strongest of leaders.

She didn’t regret leaving.

Didn’t look behind her for a second, all too happy to go to college and find herself a rich man to make miserable.

Even had a child, though they were never her favorite things. Her Steven of course, would be so much different from the children she’d grown up among or the ones she helped oversee for her father's work.

He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t shriek or scream or make demands of busy adults. Steven would know his place, and he would stay in it until he had grown into a reasonable adult.

No unrealistic expectations, not from her son.

And absolutely, 100%, no magic.

(Unfortunately for Stella Harrington and her relationship with her son, magic does not obey the whims of one person.

Particularly not that kind of magic, one far older than Stella could comprehend.)

See: Steve knew where he came from. Would never say it of course, outright refused to put a name to it.

Knew better, even when he was young, than to speak it aloud.

Though his mother had long abandoned any powers given to her, Steve was still born with his. When lonely, he often found he could wander into a different kind of woods. 

One absolutely covered in snow.

Steve should have been cold in those woods, but he never was, not even the first time he stumbled into them at the tender age of seven.

These trees never scared him. Not like the ones in his backyard sometimes did.

The whole place felt rather welcoming in a way his own house had never been, and as Steve had stumbled along following the faint glow of lights, he found himself feeling more relaxed.

Happy.

Even at seven, Steve was smart enough to know he needed to turn back, after a while. That his mother would be furious with him if he caused her to miss the meeting she needed to go to.

That he had a responsibility to be where she put him.

He hadn’t crested the hill yet. Hadn’t quite figured out where the glow was coming from, when he realized he needed to go home--but his trip wasn’t wasted.

A baby reindeer distracted him.

It peeked around a tree, and upon seeing him, came dashing his way.

Steve should be scared, would have been scared, but something in him told him this creature was his friend. He held out his hands and greeted it as such.

He was right.

A few more little reindeer came up over the hill, running around him, and together he played what felt like a game as he walked back in the direction he thought his house lay.

Said his goodbyes when the snow started to wane and made promises to return.

Found, sadly, that he wouldn’t get another chance too for almost a full year. He was too busy, signed up for multiple sports, handed over to tutors and taught life skills by a parade of nannies, none of whom ever stayed for long.

He dreamed of the snow.

The gentle way the woods felt.

It was what made him tell the lie that let him go back.

Steve was eight by then, and smart to how his parents and nannies worked. That some of them overlapped their stays when his parents went away.

So it was easy to tell Mary that she could go.

That it was okay, really. Carla had just called, she was on her way.

Just like it was easy to tell Carla that his parents' plans had changed. Let her know she wasn’t needed after all.

What harm would it do if he was alone for a night? His father kept telling him he was a big boy. Soon he’d be on his own anyway.

The snow found him faster this time, when he went for his walk in the woods.

Delighted, Steve kept an eye out for the reindeer, fingers skittering across tree bark as he looked around, once again tracking the soft glow that came up over the hill.

It was a long walk to that light, but Steve didn’t mind.

Not until he heard the crying.

“Hello?” Steve called, voice prim and proper as always. It was a little high--Tommy teased him endlessly about it, but he had been assured it would deepen.

The crying didn’t stop, but things got quiet for a moment, in the way that happens when someone was trying hard not to be found.

(Steve knew exactly how that felt, not wanting to be found. Wanting to cry for a moment, without someone telling you to toughen up, be a man, ‘God Steven you’re too old for all this--’)

“It’s okay!” Steve rushed out, trying to locate where the muffled sounds were coming from before they ran away. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”

Which is right about when he almost tripped over the other kid.

He was hunched against a tree, knees drawn into his chest with brown hair hanging into his eyes. His clothes were a odd--a little like how his teacher had made Steve dress when they’d done a play about the middle ages.

“Who’re you?” The boy asked defensively, wiping his nose with his sleeve.

“I’m Steve.” He said, before kneeling down himself. “Did you get hurt?”

“No.” The boy sniffled. After a moment he added; “M’ Eddie.”

His eyes were large, and reminded Steve of a puppy he once saw. All cute and round and shiny.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” The boy said and it wasn’t an accusation, but it wasn’t friendly.

“I’m not from around here.” Steve told him. “At least, I don’t think I am.”

It was kind of hard to know, given Steve wasn’t sure where here was, exactly--and absolutely knew better than to ask his parents.

“Well then you should go home.” The boy sniffled again.

Steve wasn't put off by it. Tommy had been a lot meaner than this after all, when they'd first met. 

Given their parents made them play together anyways, Steve felt he he could get this kid to like him too. 

"I'm gonna, later. I'm looking for something right now though--you wanna come?" 

Which he felt was a pretty nice offer. Might distract Eddie from whatever was bothering him.

(Steve liked distractions, when he was upset. It made it a lot easier to swallow down the bad feelings.) 

“You shouldn’t hang around me.” Eddie said suddenly. His nose was as red as his eyes, and he refused to look Steve in the eye as he hunched further into himself. “I’m bad.”

“You’re not bad.” Steve told him. 

He got a glare for it.

“How would you know?”

“I dunno.” Steve stopped, brows furrowing in thought. “I just--kinda do. I always have.”

Which was true. Steve was awfully good at identifying who was good and who was bad, from adults to his fellow classmates. It had gotten him in trouble before his mother had sat him down, and told him he just had a good business sense.

That he needed to keep to himself who was good and who was bad, especially the adults, because it wasn’t his place to say such things.

(‘But it’ll serve you well in the future.’ His mother told him, tucking an errant strand of hair back behind his ear. ‘Particularly for business deals.’)

“Well you’re wrong then, because I was born bad.” Eddie scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. “Everyone says so!”

It was dramatic as hell, and Steve couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him.

“I’m sorry!” He said immediately, when Eddie’s face flushed angrily. “I’m sorry it’s just--you look kinda silly.”

He mimed Eddie’s stance for a moment, including a dramatic little huff of breath. It unbalanced him, and Steve ended up dropping on his butt, which made him to laugh even louder.

“No one who does that can be bad.” He said finally, through the giggles. 

“That’s--stupid. You’re stupid.” Eddie said, except he was clearly trying to hide his own laugh at Steve’s antics.

“I’m not stupid--and you’re not bad. I promise.” Steve said, before reaching out a hand, one pinkie extended. “I’ll swear on it.”

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asked him, but he didn’t sound sad now. More curious. 

Curious Steve knew, was a lot better than sad. 

“You wrap your pinkie finger with mine. Then it’s a pinkie swear, which is like--unbreakable!”

That’s what Carol had told him at least, and so far it had held true. Steve figured it must work doubly so, in a place like this.

Cautiously, Eddie reached out, entwining his pinkie with Steve’s. Like any minute Steve would snatch his hand back, and tell him it was all a joke.

Instead, Steve bobbed their hands up and down once, before letting go and asking; “Do you wanna go find that light with me? I wanna see what it is.”

He pointed up the hill, toward the glow that had haunted his dreams.”

“Oh that’s boring.“ Eddie told him, but he had a grin on his face that felt infectious. “It’s just the town. I’ll show you something way better!”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, and let Eddie snatch his wrist, launching to his feet and bringing Steve with him.

In doing so his hair blew, revealing that he had pointed ears.

Steve stared at them in awe as Eddie tugged him further into the trees, until they burst into a clearing filled with gingerbread houses. They ranged from teeny tiny, to large enough that Steve and Eddie could walk in them, and it wasn’t long before the two started a game of tag, broken only by laughter. 

In retrospect, this was his downfall.

Because the little gingerbread houses were really cool, and Eddie was a lot of fun. It was easy to play with him--like the two of them had been made for each other.

Steve had never connected like this with a person before. Never had so much fun with someone before.

Not even with Tommy and Carol, his very best friends.

Eddie seemed to feel the same way, and not even an hour into meeting him, Steve knew he would remember this for the rest of his life.

Remember Eddie.

Steve ended up losing track of time. Stayed so long that his lie was discovered.

The person who came looking for him wasn’t his parents, but looked weirdly like his mom--if his mom were a boy.

He introduced himself as Steve’s Uncle Nick after he called the two boys to him, hands on his hips in a way Steve kind of wanted to mimic.

Steve knew it to be true, in the same way he knew how to find the forest, and if someone was good or bad. A feeling inside him he could tap into, warm and fuzzy in a way that, should he ever be pressed, he might admit to feeling like magic.

“Now how did you get here?” Uncle Nick asked him, like Steve's presence was a surprising little puzzle.

Knowing better than to lie, sensing that his Uncle would be able to tell if he did anyways, Steve told him the truth.

It got him exactly what he expected, which was an upset adult.

Unlike his mom or dad however, his Uncle didn’t yell at him, or grab Steve’s hand in a punishing grip. No nails dug into his skin, no harsh words were hissed. Uncle Nick simply pinched the tip of his nose, before giving a sigh that shook his massive frame.

“Your mom is going to be very upset.” He said finally.

Like Steve didn't know. 

“I just wanted to see the lights.”

“The lights--oh.” Uncle Nick glanced over his shoulder. “Could you see them from your house?”

Steve shook his head.

“No but I could feel them.”

Like a pulse in his chest. A compass, or--a guide.

“He says he can tell who's naughty or nice.” Eddie chimed in, oddly quiet for how loud he had been. “He says I’m good.”

This was said as a challenge, and Steve eyed his new friend out of the corner of his eye. He’d never dared speak to an adult like that, and was both a little in awe of Eddie doing it, and afraid for him.

Something his Uncle seemed to sense.

“Edward, go home.” He said, firm but kind.  Not like how Steve's mom was when she was mad, or his dad when he had a bad day at work.“I’ll come talk to you later. Come on Steve, let me walk you back. I best explain this in person.”

Then he took Steve’s hand in his, while Steve called out a goodbye to Eddie over his shoulder.

“You’ll come back and visit, right!?” Eddie yelled back. 

Steve shouted an affirmative, even knowing it wasn’t likely he’d be allowed.

(Wished with all his heart, that he'd be allowed.) 

“Eddie is really good, you know.” Steve said once he no longer could see his new friend, because it felt important to tell his Uncle that. Necessary, for some reason.

“I know.” Uncle Nick replied gently. “But let’s not worry about him right now, okay?”

“Okay.”

Then they were back in Steve’s woods, the ones that were sometimes unfriendly. In his backyard, and up to the door, and even from here Steve could hear his mother and father screaming at each other, in a tone that made his stomach curl.

“Come on kiddo. Time to face the music.” Uncle Nick told him, and Steve found he really didn’t want to let go of his Uncle’s hand.

He did though.

He was a big boy, and well trained. He didn’t flinch from his parents. Didn’t disobey when his mother demanded he tell her exactly how he got to the fun place, with all the snow--and listened further still when she demanded Uncle Nick take it out of him.

Take what Steve didn’t know--not until his Uncle lost the argument.

Reached into Steve’s chest and did something to him, something that killed that warm and fuzzy thing that had always lived inside Steve.

He cried harder than he ever had before that night. Cried and begged for Uncle Nick to put it back, that he was sorry and he wouldn’t ever use it again if they just let him keep it.

(He promised, he promised, he promised-!)

Sank to his knees and told his parents that it hurt.

They didn't listen, and they didn't put it back.

His father told him to get up off the floor, and then pulled him up when Steve found he couldn’t.

Hauled him to his room, even as his Uncle warned his mother that he couldn’t get rid of it. That he could only suppress it, the same way she suppressed hers, but those words didn’t really matter to Steve just then.

Not when he was hurting, and tired, and found himself wishing for his new friend.

(His mother told him he’d feel better in time.

Steve never did.)

xXx

The hole in Steve’s chest had never filled.

It kept him up at night. The yearning for something just out of reach, tormenting him with a feeling of being hollow.

He didn’t know how his mother could stand it.

Steve stopped fussing about it though--or rather, he stopped the first time his father had slapped him over his complaining.

“Enough, Steven! You’re perfectly fine. Now start acting like it, for fucks sake!” He’d roared, and shocked as he was, Steve had still done what he’d been taught to do.

Toughed it out. Sucked it up. Got over it.

Dumped his entire life into basketball and swimming and other parent-approved activities, even if he felt empty.

He was eight, then ten, then fourteen and soon Steve wasn’t healed, but he'd adjusted. 

Got aloof to the pain as his popularity skyrocketed, and his parents left him on his own while they chased the almighty dollar.

(Secretly, Steve tried to fill the void in his heart with parties and people, alcohol and even the occasional drug, though most just left him feeling worse than before.

It was perhaps how he ended up acting as he did.

Turning from the sweet boy who was always helping others, to someone who was fast with their insults. Popularity was a sharks game, and though he refused to participate in the bullying his friends enjoyed, he made sure everyone knew who the biggest fish in the pond was.

Because the hole was always there, in the back of his mind. The thing inside him that was missing, that made him crave the snow, and the lights, and the boy with pointy ears. 

He might be able to force himself to forget about all of that, if only the hole in his heart would allow him.)

xXx

Five days before his fifteenth birthday, some random guy showed up in Steve’s yard.

This wasn’t unusual--Steve invited a lot of people over.

Tommy and Carol both had a standing invitation to use his pool and Steve often used it to curry favor with the upperclassmen--but even underwater, Steve didn’t recognize the teenager leaning over to watch him swim.

Plus it was a little weird for someone to pop up on a Sunday.

Refusing to be intimidated, Steve surfaced right under the guy, head whipping up to make sure he splashed him in the face.

Laughed as the other guy sputtered.

“Can I help you man?” Steve drawled, hooking his arms on the lip of the pool.

“I’m looking for someone. Steve Harrington?” The guy told him, glaring as he wiped water off his face.

His hair just touched his shoulders, in that awkward stage of growing out that made him look like a pageboy.

Steve tucked that little observation away for later, in case he needed it.

“Congratulations, you found me.” He said, eyeing him over.

Black jeans with holes in the knees, wallet chain and a black shirt with a faded logo of some band Steve had never heard of proudly displayed. A checkered plaid shirt topped the whole outfit, with a red guitar pick dangling around his neck from a chain.

Like the guy thought he was some kind of rockstar, and not in bumfuck Indiana.

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Though I think you’re in the wrong place. The audition for the new town jester is being held at the high school.”

He got a frown, like the guy knew he was being insulted but didn’t quite want to believe it. “I’m not here for an audition.”

“You sure? Cause you’re definitely dressed the part.”

“Okay, you are definitely not Steve.” He said, arms crossing his chest. He had a ring on each hand, catching the light as he clutched at his arms. “Steve wasn’t this much of a dick.”

Which wasn’t the first time Steve had been called out for his behavior--but it had never been by the people he was supposed to care about.

Those people, the people his parents liked?

They loved it.

“Times change.” Steve told the stranger. Kept his tone light and playful, the way that always made girls giggle at him and guy’s listen.

Well the ones he wasn’t making fun of, anyways.

“People do too.”

He rearranged himself, planting both palms flat against the concrete, bouncing once to build energy before rocketing out of the water.

Stood, and watched with interest as the new guy’s eyes raked over his naked torso, before his whole face flushed red.

How he looked away, like he suddenly couldn’t bare to look at Steve.

“You shouldn't have changed that much.” He muttered, but Steve already had his number.

"Why were you looking for me anyway?” Steve asked as he went and grabbed a towel. Wrapped it around his waist, but kept his upper body shirtless.

Idly scratched at his hip and watched as the guy acted like Steve had practically stripped naked in front of him.

Weirdly enjoyed the little spark it gave him, to watch this guy appear so affected by his bare chest.

Defensive, the stranger bit out; “We were friends. I haven’t seen him in a long time, I was just checking up on him.”

That made Steve pause.

Really look over the guy standing before him.

The fidgeting, the blushing, the way he avoided Steve’s gaze.

He opened his mouth, an odd urge to draw this out guiding him when the hole in his chest pulsed.

Like a convulsion, a miniature seizure that took Steve entirely by surprise.

It had been a long time since it had done that, long enough to throw Steve off his game.

Make him feel unsafe, unmoored.

Abandoned.

“Yeah?” He wheezed, before covering himself and the flood of wrong/want/need with a harsh cough. “Well now I know you’re definitely barking up the wrong tree. I’d never be friends with a fucking queer.”

At that, the guy’s mouth dropped open, head whipping around to stare at Steve in shock.

"Don’t deny it, I can tell. You’re practically drooling over there.” Steve smiled with all his teeth, even as he struggled to keep his breath even. “It’s disgusting.”

“You know what, fuck you. I thought you were different and you’re not.” The stranger spat, with far more venom than Steve was prepared for. “You’re the same as all the rest.”

He scoffed, before whirling on his heel, middle finger high in the air as he stormed off into the woods.

“Have fun with your sad, beige fucking life!” He yelled, voice a little choked up.

“I will!” Steve yelled back at him, oddly heated.

Rubbed his chest when he was gone, before sitting down to try and figure out what the hell just happened--and why the hell his chest hurt so much.

xXx

Steve’s life remained completely and painfully normal--until Nancy Wheeler.

Nancy and her smile, Nancy and her reminder of what it felt like to be loved. 

She didn’t fill the void inside him, but what she did came close.

Felt similar.

Steve found he’d do anything for her, looking at life once again through the lens he had back when he was seven.

It was great.

Better than great--it was the best he’d ever been.

Then Barb went missing.

Shit hit the fan so fast that in retrospect, Steve still doesn’t understand it. There was Jonathan and his camera, with the background of his missing little brother. Tommy and his insults, grabbing Steve up by the collar. Nancy being weird, Nancy ducking him to hang out with the guy who took photographs of them having sex.

Steve's brain tracks it all in little snapshots. The way he realized that maybe Nancy was right--he was way more of an asshole than he thought. How he decided to clean the theater, and then apologize to Jonathan.

(Creepy shit or not, Jonathan’s brother was gone. Steve had never had a brother, but he understood how it felt when something important was taken from you.

How it made you act after.)

There was a shift inside him. Not coming from the void, but from how Steve dealt with it.

And then there was a fucking monster coming out of the ceiling.

This is how Steve learns the magic he once had wasn’t special. That it’s not the only supernatural thing that exists in the world.

Only unlike the snow and gingerbread house and boy with pointed ears and an Uncle that looked a hell of a lot like Santa Clause, this version came with evil government laboratories, the Upside Down and his girlfriend holding a gun.

It was kind of a lot, really.

Particularly because his parents weren’t home.

(They still came home of course, but it wasn’t with the same frequency as it used to be.

The business trips went from once a month, to every other week, to long stretches of away periods. Long enough that Steve spoke to them over the phone more than he did in person, and knew more about business mergers than he ever cared too.

Also his fathers love life, courtesy of his drunk mother.)

Steve didn’t exactly handle it well.

Doesn’t think any of them handled it well, really, even if Nancy blamed him for trying to pretend he was okay. But right as their relationship blew up in Steve’s face, shit started happening again.

Flickering lights and freaky monsters. A group of kids Steve found himself in charge of, who were doing their level best to commit suicide.

(“We’re helping El and Will, idiot!” Mike Wheeler protested in the back of Billy Hargrove’s Camaro when Steve brought up that this was not what being benched meant, and Steve let him have that one given the way the world was spinning.

God that asshole hit like a train.)

Another snapshot, full of fear and fury, and things were over once again. 

Steve was telling Nancy it was okay. She could go with Jonathan, that he could tell it was what she wanted.

It hurt him to do it, but he wasn’t going to be like his own parents.

Realized with a weird amount of clarity, that he wanted to be the very opposite of his parents.

Late in the night, feeling every ache and pain in his body but knowing everyone was safe, Steve finally started the long trek home. 

He didn’t have his car (he hoped that was still at the Byers place) and he didn’t have his keys (no clue where those went but he was praying it wasn’t in the freaky tunnels) and was well into the middle of his walk when his chest started acting weird. Really weird. 

Steve ignored it.

He kept ignoring it, focused on getting back to his bed, and his bed alone.

(Maybe he had been thinking more than that. About how the last time he had truly been happy wasn’t with Nancy, but with Eddie. That he’d give anything to go play in the gingerbread houses again.

Maybe he was even thinking of how warm his Uncle had been, the way he was so gentle when he held Steve’s hand.

How he’d argued against Steve’s parents, when no one else ever did.

It was probably just the head injury.)

Unfortunately--or fortunately, depending on who you asked later--the weird feeling didn't stop.

It grew and grew, until it felt like something was breaking out of him.

Like a cough you’d long suppressed that crawled forcefully up and out of your throat, it both hurt and felt amazing, a pang echoing out through his very core--

Then suddenly there was snow on the trees and Steve was stumbling into a teenager with fluffy hair.

“Sorry.” He muttered, right before he went down on his knees.

“What the hell---” Fluffy haired guy said, spinning around and looking at Steve like he was a ghost. “Oh shit, are you okay!?”

“I’m fine.” Steve lied, even as he gave in and laid down.

Man, this snow was nice.

Comfy and soft, and cold on his face.

There was a string of curses coming from above him, and Steve made the effort to twist his head so he could watch fluffy hair kneel frantically next to him.

“ What happened!? How did you get here!?”

“S’long story man.” Steve slurred, feeling bad and looking worse. His head fucking hurt.

“Don’t suppose there’s a guy named Eddie around? He has uh,” Steve fumbled, hands trying to point to his ears. “Pointed. You know.”

He gestured to his own ear again.

(Figured he might as well ask, given all the snow.)

The Fluffy Hair pulled said hair back at that, revealing his very own pointy ear. “Dude you’re in the North Pole, all us elves have pointy ears.”

The North Pole.

The words Steve had only ever dared to think, and never said out loud.

“Cool.” He said instead, not really feeling like he was inside his own body.

“Just--stay there, okay? My name's Gareth I’m gonna go get someone.” Gareth the elf (an elf, wasn’t that a trip. Did that mean Eddie was also an elf?) said, hands hovering awkwardly in the air, before he darted off, out of Steve’s sight.

“Can you get Eddie?” The question came out in a whine, the hurt in Steve’s chest overtaken by the pain in his head.

He didn’t get an answer.

Which was okay, he thought.

He didn’t really need one.

He had the snow, and the woods that weren’t straight out of a fucking nightmare, and, he could just sleep right here…

“Steve!”

He blinked, and found he must have passed out.

“There you are. Stay with me.” A blurry face was saying. A couple more blinks brought it into focus, and Steve knew this person, even if he couldn't put a name to a face.

The hair was longer, and there were more rings on his fingers, ones Steve could both see and feel as a hand ran along the back of his head.

Worried doe eyes met Steve's own, and just through the curtain of curls, he caught the outline of a pointed ear.

“Ed--ie?” He croaked, unsure.

“Yeah Stevie, it's me. You're okay, we brought you back to my place. Gareth is getting help.”

He was trying to sound reassuring but he mostly just sounded worried.

Not that Steve cared, because he finally figured out why older Eddie was familiar.

“Oh.” He managed, the words feeling like he had to push out. “It was you. By the--pool.”

“What?”

It felt like eons ago. The weird guy, asking after him. Back when Steve had been doing anything he could to fill the void his magic had left behind, and turned into a raging shithead as a result.

“M sorry.” Steve slurred, voice cracking in its honesty. “I was--asshole. M'sorry.”

The look Eddie gave him was wild. Like he couldn’t believe Steve was here, and definitely couldn’t believe Steve was apologizing.

Which was fair. Until last year Steve wouldn’t have ever apologized, to anyone, ever. 

“Yeah you were, but we can talk about it later. Right now I just need you to stay awake.” Eddie said instead. It was gentle, a lot more gentle than Steve felt he deserved.

It made him want to explain, more than anything, what had happened.

“I was tryin to fix…the hole. Inside.” Steve needed Eddie to understand. Needed it more than breathing, just then.

“I know, big boy.” Eddie soothed, and his hands were back in Steve’s hair.

It felt nice.

“S’not an excuse, promise it's not. I was hurt--hurting, and--I was mean.” Steve continued. It was getting harder to think, the world swimming in and out of focus, but this was important.

Perhaps the most important thing he’d done in a long time, sans saving the kids from the demodogs.

“It’s okay, Stevie. I didn’t get it back then but I understand better now and…”

He might have said something more. Steve thinks he was, but then Eddie was shaking him harshly, and Steve realized he might have tried to pass back out.

“Come on Stevie, sweetheart, you can’t sleep right now. You have to stay awake for me, okay? Steve?”

Steve tried to shake his head and hissed when he found out how much that hurt. Breathed in and out through the pain, before his brain connected back to what he’d been trying to say.

“Not jus’ to you.” He panted. “Wasn’t mean just to you.”

That was important too. That Eddie knew he hadn't been targeted. That Steve was a dick to pretty much anyone he came across.

“I know. I've uh, been watching you, from here."

“Yeah?”

“We have this giant globe. Like a crystal ball, but it’s set deep into the floor so you can only really see half of it. It can also connect to snow globes, and it can let you see places. Watch people.”

Eddie’s voice was soothing, the deep timber of it echoing through Steve’s chest. Belatedly he realized his head was in Eddie’s lap.

That felt nice too.

“I was real mad at you but the Bossman--uh, your Uncle, he kinda showed me you once or twice and then I started watching you myself. Sorry I know that’s weird--”

“Least you didn’t take pictures.” Steve wheezed and then tried to grin because that was very much supposed to be a joke.

(He definitely had felt more put together when he dropped the kids off in Billy's Camaro--so what the hell was happening? Had the shock worn off? Adrenaline?

Fuck maybe he should have just driven Billy’s stupid car back to his house, instead of leaving it at Max's house.

Asshole deserved to not know where his car was anyway.)

Then suddenly there was a lot of noise and light and fuck did that all make his head hurt. Hands went all over him, people barking orders, and a girl Steve was pretty sure was his age was peering at him.

“Steve?” She asked, but it sounded distant. Echoey and unclear.

“I can’t keep him awake!”

That from Eddie, who sounded much clearer, if not utterly panicked. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got him.” The girl said, tight but professional in a way that typically belonged to someone used to medical emergencies. “You can let him go now.”

“Are you kidding me, Buckley you’re an apprentice medmage-!”

Steve frowned at that, but found something was drifting over him. A weight, like an invisible blanket pressed down gently, and he had a second to recognize that this too, was some kind of magic before sleep tried to take him.

He fought it for a moment as a thought occurred.

One last thing he needed to say.

“You’re still good. Eddie. You’ve always been--”

The magic took him away.

xXx

It smelled like cinnamon.

Cinnamon and sharp hints of peppermint, the kind that tickled at Steve’s nose as he slowly rose back into consciousness.

Steve winced as he sat up, head itching like ants were crawling all over it. Idly he tried to scratch at his forehead and found himself touching a thick bandage, at about the same time his body seemed to catch on that he was awake.

It reminded him that he had had a hell of a night in the form of an onslaught of aches and pains.

His fingers traced the edge of the bandage as he took in the cheerful red walls surrounding him. The room was the exact kind of kitschy his mom hated, little twirls of white here and there making the place look like the inside of a candy cane.

The center piece was the full size window, taller than Steve was and twice as wide. Fat, fluffy flakes of snow drifted lazily outside it, some sticking to the window panes as they floated on by.

It was a little like being knocked out and waking up in the Wonka factory, but given all the shit that he had been through the past twenty four hours, Steve didn’t mind it.

Snow was infinitely preferable to the weird ash that came out of the Upside Down.

As if sensing he was awake, the door opposite the window swung open. A tray came through, positively stacked with a stupid amount of pancakes and oozing with maple syrup, the type Steve could smell.

“I,” Eddie announced, head just visible above the good, “had a very embarrassing meltdown when they tried to take you away from me. So suck it up Harrington, because you’re stuck with me now.”

Steve stared at him, mildly concerned he was a hallucination.

“I brought you pancakes.” Eddie added, pausing as he approached the bed like he hadn’t actually thought through to this point.

“I see that.” Steve said, just to fill the sudden, awkward silence. “There’s…kinda a lot there, man.”

So much so it was threatening to escape the confines of the tray and drip down onto the carpet.

“You play sports things don’t you?” Eddie defended, making the executive decision to put the tray down on the bed. “Kinda thought you’d need like, a lot, especially if you're healing." 

Steve snorted, but didn’t bother to hide the smile that crept onto his face.

Even if it hurt.

Dragged his gaze from the pile of pancakes now laid before him, to the man fidgeting awkwardly by his bedside.

Realized belatedly, that Eddie hadn’t changed much.

Not since Steve had last seen him, though he never in his life would have thought one of Santa’s elves would wear so much black.

(Frankly Eddie looked just like every other teenage metalhead Steve had ever met, sans the pointed ears. One of which was now pierced and had little metal hoops threaded through it.)

Eddie realized Steve was looking, and bashfully twist a strand of his hair in front of his face.

It was cute.

It made him look cute.

“You might as well sit and help me with this, it’s way too much.” Steve told him.

Which was the truth--Eddie had brought him a shit load of pancakes and Steve wasn’t exactly sure he could chew all that well right now, considering his left cheek was so puffed out it felt like a chipmunks.

Didn’t want to turn down a gift though--or rather, turn down a gift from Eddie.

Who he absolutely still needed to apologize properly too.

“I guess I should start off with a thank you.” Steve began, as Eddie dropped onto the bed. “I think you might have saved my life, though I swear I wasn’t doing that bad off before I got here.”

“Robin said the shock wore off.” Eddie told him. He didn’t wait for Steve to dig in, grabbing a pancake and rolling it up like a sausage before stabbing one end in syrup. “She also said you had a hell of a concussion, two cracked ribs and a literal boatload of scratches,”

Which sounded about right, considering.

“Still though.” Steve frowned, looking at his hands. “I mostly just fought off Billy, the demodogs never got me.”

Something he was incredibly thankful for, given the sheer amount of teeth.

“I think you’re downplaying your injuries here, handsome, you gave Robin a hell of a fright. She cursed in four languages." Eddie talked fast, just like the little boy Steve remembered him as.

It made him grin. 

“Handsome, huh?” Steve teased, and regretted it the second it slipped out of his mouth.

He hadn’t meant to call attention to it. Not just yet anyway. Wanted to work his way up to his apology and then the things he had kind of realized on his walk home (and possibly before that, though he thinks he might have…repressed it.)

Given the way Eddie froze, Steve figures he’s got about two seconds to talk himself out of it, before Eddie rightfully shut him out.

“I like it. The nicknames.” He said, which is also not what he intended to come out of his mouth and God he was really blowing this, wasn’t he?

“Steve,” Eddie started, sounding a little strangled and nope, no, he was going to fix this dammit!

“I’m sorry.” He said honestly. “I know I was an ass when you came to check up on me, and I know I said some terrible things to you. I regret it. I regret it a lot, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

“You weren't wrong.” Eddie cut in, twirling a ring on his finger, eyes firmly on it. “I am gay. I am flamingly gay. And I understand if after today, you don't want me here.”

Which apparently answered the question about whether or not elves gave a shit about such things.

(Or maybe they did, and it was humans who cared, and Eddie was giving him an out for it.

Steve figured he’d ask later.

After he had finished groveling.)

“I want you here.” He said, as seriously as he’d ever said anything. “I think the real question is why you would want to help me?”

It was the one thing that didn’t add up. Why Eddie had been so nice, when he’d shown up.

Sure it was one thing to be a good citizen or whatever, help out a guy who was passed out on the ground, but Eddie hadn’t just gotten help.

He’d stroked Steve’s hair. He’d kept him awake.

Hell he called Steve sweetheart.

And now he was here again, right by Steve's bedside, checking up on him.

You didn’t do that for the guy who was a downright douchebag too you, even if it had been a few years.

Eddie bit his lip, before he chanced a look back at Steve, up through his bangs. “Because you said I was good Steve. You were the first person who ever said I was good.”

Quieter he added “And because we were friends once.”

“I'd like to still be friends.”

“Even if I'm gay?”

Steve took a deep breath, and let out a truth that he’d maybe been ignoring for almost as long as he’d tried to forget about the hole in his heart.

“Cards on the table Eddie, I’m not sure I’m not gay Or whatever both is." 

He'd heard the word once from Chrissy, but hadn't cared to remember it.

(Regretted that a little bit.) 

He got a mighty frown in response.

“Don’t do that. Don’t--joke, like that.”

“It’s not a joke.” Steve said slowly, feeling the words as he spoke them. “I think this is part of the stuff I always just--ignored. Didn’t want to deal with it, because my--”

Steve couldn’t bring himself to say magic, and so, aborted the sentence entirely. “I couldn’t deal. So everything connected to this place, to the rest of my family, to you, I just pushed aside. Pretended it didn’t exist.”

Pretended that he was normal.

Just like his parents wanted.

Then he’d met Nancy.

Realized what he felt about her, he’d always felt about Eddie. That the way she looked at Jonathan wasn’t the way she looked at him--and even then, in the love he had for her, Steve hadn’t looked at her like that either.

Steve had been attracted to her for her yes--but initially, maybe, because she’d looked a little like someone else.

Admitted to himself that he the reason he could clock Eddie so fast back when he was fourteen, wasn't because he was that good at reading people, but because he recognized what it looked like to get caught checking out a guy.

“But I could never forget about you.” Steve added because well. “I’ve never been able to forget about you.”

He’d already said cards on the table, hadn’t he?

Might as well reveal his whole hand.

“You were the last thing I thought of, when I was trying to get home. I wasn’t thinking about my house, or my parents. I was thinking about you. I’ve never been able to come back here, not after Uncle Nick,” He cut himself off again, frustrated that he couldn’t just fucking it, but made himself take a breath.

Continue.

“--but I could, last night. I could get to you.”

Technically he’d gotten to Gareth, who Steve probably also owed a thank you too, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

Gareth had found Eddie anyway, in the end.

“I absolutely get if you want nothing to do with that, considering I think I’m just now accepting this about myself but. I wanted you to know. You’re important to me, Eddie. You always have been.”

It was weird--Steve should have felt laid bare. Vulnerable now that he’d laid out all these things he’d suppressed, that he thought taken away alongside his magic.

Instead he felt lighter than air.

Like the weight had finally been lifted and he could breathe deep once again.

For a long moment no one said anything and Steve figured this was it, he’d gone too far, when Eddie darted in, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek.

He pulled away just as fast. Wide eyes searched Steve’s face, as though expecting Steve to change his mind. 

If anything, it just solidified it.

Steve reached out slowly, gently grabbing on of Eddie’s hands. Brought it up to his mouth and kissed the back of it, while maintaining eye contact.

Enjoyed the way Eddie’s face went bright red.

“You’re important to me too.” He managed, voice awed. “You’ve always been important to me. Stevie.”

Finally feeling like he knew where he belonged, Steve grinned back. 

xXx

Bonus

“When I said let him sleep Munson, I didn’t mean with you!” Someone screeched a few hours later, jolting Steve awake.

“He was awake when I came in!” Eddie protested, shoving himself up onto his elbows when the women from yesterday--Robin, Steve thought her name was--stormed in. “We fell asleep together after Robbie, I swear!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Hi.” Steve said with a little wave, before the two of them could screech some more. “I’m Steve.”

“I know, Dingus.” Robin told him, eyes narrowed in fury. “You’re a member of the Clause family, everyone knows who you are.”

“Oh.” Steve said, though it felt less cool and more weird that someone had finally said it out loud.

That he, Steven Harrington, had an Uncle, and that Uncle was Santa Clause.

‘Dustin is gonna freak.’

“I’m sure Mega-Idiotson here hasn’t told you, but I’m the medmage that saw you last night. Or kinda--see I’m an apprentice medmage, but my teacher was kinda out with the Boss seeing someone a town over and time was tight and we couldn’t exactly wait--”

“Breath, Buckley. In,” Eddie teased, before demonstrating a deep breath on himself, hand sweeping into his chest before he loudly exhaled. “and out.”

“Shut up, Eddie, I’m working up to something here!”

“What is it?” Steve said, feeling like if he didn’t interject Robin would take a while to get to the point.

“I might have accidentally undid whatever was on your magic?” Robin rushed out, so fast Steve nearly didn’t catch it. “Like I can tell that’s the Boss’s magic, and that he did--whatever that was, but I couldn't figure out how to heal you with it there and it was kinda already leaking out so I just--took it off?”

Steve gaped at her.

“You fixed me?” He managed after a moment, hand darting out to squeeze at one of Eddie’s.

“Um. Yes?” Robin cautioned, like she wasn’t exactly sure that’s what she did.

“Oh my god. Oh my god!” Steve laughed, then felt absolutely stupid for not checking in with himself.

Because Robin was right.

The hole was gone--and his magic was back.

How had he not noticed that his magic was back!?

“Eddie, Eddie she’s right--I have it back!”

He turned in bed, dropping Eddie’s hand so he could cup his face and kiss him instead.

“Okay, I don’t need to see this--” Robin complained, but Steve didn’t care.

Could only laugh delighted into Eddie’s mouth, before Eddie deepened the kiss.

(“Guys seriously I am still right here! Can’t you at least wait until I’m gone!?”

“No. Now get out Robin, you’re ruining my moment!”

“It’s okay, Eds. I’ll give you as many moments as you want.”

“Ew, ew, ew-!” )

This whole ass thing on A03 if you'd rather read it there!

[sexyapostate]

Auntie Ethel's Race-Specific Vicious Mockeries

Because of this post by rpgchoices, I figured I'd compile all the other Vicious Mockery lines Auntiel Ethel can hit the player with. These don't include the origin companion specific ones. You can find those in the linked post.

DROW ELF

Filthy underscum!

Just another of Lolth's pretty harlots.

Slaver. Sadist. How dare you judge me?

DROW ELF (MALE)

Bare your throat, spider-bait.

Kneel, boy. Just like the matriarchs taught you to.

Bow to your betters, boy.

HALF-ELF DROW

Even the Underdark doesn't want you, half-breed.

Surprised you show yourself in public, abomination.

A half-drow? How grotesque.

DWARF

More beard than brains, the lot of you.

Bet you'd trade your friends for a trinket or two, gold-eater!

I'll squeeze that stone heart until it bleeds, dwarf.

DUERGAR DWARF

Bow your head, slave. You remember how, don't you?

Grey and useless as a stone comb.

Need a new master, illithid lover?

DRAGONBORN

Aww, where's your clan? Bet they'd exile you for that brainworm in a blink.

Bet that honour of yours shatters easy as your scales.

You foul-breathed little lizard!

GNOME

Disgusting burrow rat.

Bet your clan's happy you're gone!

Try laughing after I rip your throat out, gnome.

ELF 

Fancy yourself immortal? We'll see how long that lasts.

I'll show you what a true fey does, dearie.

Elves are so pretty. Pretty worthless!

HALF-ELF

I wonder which parent regrets you more, half-breed.

How revolting. Another thin-blooded mongrel. Half-elf. Half-human. All useless.

HUMAN

Another human rat infesting Faerûn.

A human! So desperate to be special.

Pity. That tadpole actually made you interesting.

HALFLING

No flabby dwarf's a threat to me.

Come closer, little softie. You'll be tender.

A tiny, sweet morsel. Just for me.

HALF-ORC

Come now, tusks-for-brains! Doesn't this make you angry?

All that bloodlust. A little tap, and I bet you won't know friend from foe!

Lumbering half-orc. Twice as ugly as your parents combined!

TIEFLING

I'll burn you alive and everyone will celebrate.

You're everyone's punching bag and no one's favourite.

I see the Hells spit out another tragic little tiefling.

These were included in the dialogue document and the races listed are exactly what's in the dialogue's trigger flags.

PLANAR (githyanki, warforged)

What kind of botched portal brought something like you here?

Are you lost, little one? Maybe your soul will make it back home.

I'll banish you for good, outsider!

RARE (aasimar, dragonborn, firbolg, genasi, githyanki, half-drow, half-orc, tiefling, triton, warforged, yuan-ti pureblood)

I'm one step closer to wiping your kind off Faerûn for good!

Freakish thing. I bet everyone stares when you walk by.

Not a lot like you. You'll be my prettiest trophy.

BEASTIAL (aarakocra, kenku, lizardfolk, tabaxi, tortle)

Think you're a person because you're walking on two feet? Adorable.

Can't wait to throw a collar on your neck and make you my familiar.

I'll tan your hide, beast!

BONUS: MINSC? FOR SOME REASON? I don't know why there seem to be unlabeled Minsc-specific Vicious Mockeries. Maybe Ethel played BG1/2 and just really hates him.

How quaint! The hamster has a pet.

Only evil here is what's inside you, ranger.

Go rub your rat, soft-skull.

[yummymitzy]

No one noticed

Summary: You loved undercover missions, they were a breeze, but what you encounter afterwards definitely switched up your mood. What happens when that encounter sends you back into an old habit?

WC: 5,205

A/N: Slightly inspired by the song, but I didn’t know how to go about it😞 ANGSTY?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Pyrokinesis! Reader

————♡————

Receiving the chance to be an Avenger was incredibly shocking, not expecting such an offer for somebody like you. Not like you were poor or anything, you had a crap ton of money, but you didn’t necessarily have a clean record.

You partook in street racing, that was definitely one thing that didn’t make your record any cleaner. Having also helped your friend, Brian O’Connor, while he was on the run from law enforcement. You both raced together, the two of you were reckless, inseparable, always feeling the need to do dumb shit.

You weren’t so sure what he’d gotten himself into that led him to evading law enforcement, where he used to work. But later on, you assumed that the situation was brushed aside as he was recruited into the FBI. You were proud of him. 

You always admired Brian, he was always so focused on the task at hand but always left enough time to do stupid things with you.  You eventually started assisting him with his tasks assigned by his peers, the both of you catching fugitives as you raced.

You told him everything, there wasn’t any filter between the two of you. He even knew about the fact you were enhanced, and yet his attitude towards you never changed one bit. As a kid, you were transferred from multiple foster parents, which lead you in the hands of one couple.

They looked nice and sweet, pretty old, but once they knew got a good impression with you, they started experimenting on you. They even started sending you to their other scientist friends to use you as a lab rat. 

One day, one of the tests pushed you so far, you don’t remember much from that day. You heard screams, your screams specifically, but then you went unconscious. Once you woke up, the room was charred, the scientists nowhere to be found other than their black fragmented lab coats.  

You insanely thankful for that part of your life being over, especially to the couple that took you in right after. The couple that you now call your parents, they helped you thick and thin and always understood you.

Since you were always traded around throughout foster homes, you taught yourself to be more behaved in an attempt to stay in that home. Not like those cases where you say “you don’t cry,” because you do, everybody does, you just were more silent. 

You always shut down whenever you had a lot of shit going on, long periods of silence as your mind raced. The couple were the ones that you found solace in when you first discovered your powers. 

They were panicked at the first glimpse, but immediately consoled you, soon calming down the once bright flames that cascaded up your arms. They helped you stay on the low, it practically made you tear up with how kind they stayed with you.

But after college was when you really got into street racing, you met Brian. But there was one specific race that didn’t go well, there was this one irritating drug lord that you decided to track down with Brian. 

Trying to reason with the drug lord really didn’t end out well for you two because a fight broke out. The fight was nasty and blood was shed, the drug lord brung out guns that you or Brian didn’t even expect he’d have in his grasp.

You were shocked to say the least when he pointed the barrel of his gun towards Brian, but that quickly wore off. And like the brawn you were, bright flames flared up your arm, your eyes a golden hue as you lunged at the man. 

It was as if the fire was dancing as it burst away from your arm, traveling to the other men in the room, engulfing them in the fire while you rushed towards Brian. 

That was the first time you had ever killed someone, hell even a gang. It was dreadful, the memories clouded in your mind the next few weeks after the incident. But you knew one thing, you’d do it all again if it was for Brian.

————♡————

All of that brought you to where you stood today, an Avenger and street racer. A lot has changed once you got settled in the hero life, you even more proud to say that Natasha Romanoff took an interest to you.

It was embarrassing to admit that you admired Natasha ever since you joined the Avengers. She was incredibly wary of you the first few weeks, but quickly warmed up to you. In her words, you were like a “golden retriever puppy,” you weren’t honestly sure if it was a compliment or not.

That friendship that you built with Natasha blossomed to be more, and soon enough, you found yourself to be at her doorstep. A bouquet of flowers grasped tightly in your hold as your other hand held a neatly wrapped gift bag with her favorite perfume.

You were so glad Natasha took an interest in you, because that first date turned into three, soon with you two becoming official. You two obviously wanted to take it slow and learn the grasps of a relationship together.

That was three months ago, you and Natasha are still together happily. You were proud to say that you loved her, she knew stuff about you that you would never dare to tell a soul. Same with her, she confided in you about her past in the redroom, especially with her nightmares.

Natasha was the sweetest soul you could have ever came across, she has a hard exterior, similar to a rock. But have the right tools and it will crumble into pebbles, that’s what you loved about Natasha.

Were you rambling too much? Hah, maybe.. You were sent out on a solo mission just a few hours ago, the details of the mission in your lap as you read through them. Don’t worry, the jets on autopilot, why would they send you on a mission if you’d crash the quinjet?

The objective wasn’t difficult for you to complete, it was a simple undercover mission, you could probably do it with a blindfold on. You were supposed to get a hit on a man named John Adams.

His files could be written as a book with the amount of felonies he had under his name. You couldn’t really care less, who were you to let your emotions get in the way of your objective? 

The files stated that he would be attending an auction, buying off a very illegal weapon. Statements show from his recorded phone calls that he had specific plans to enhance the weapon, making it more “deadly.”  

Well that was a very lovely file, wasn’t it? Setting down the folder, you stood up, grabbing your duffel bag as you walked over to the medical bed. You unpacked a very revealing yet elegant dress, it was your favorite color. 

Well actually your favorite color to wear, not actually your favorite color, you get it? Yeah. You stepped out of your skin tight suit once you had unzipped it, the freezing air of the jet causing goosebumps to form on your arms. 

The moment you got the dress on, you took a few steps in front the mirror, actually taking a closer look at the dress. It had a deep V cut as the slit of the dress was incredibly high on your upper thigh. 

You squirmed of the thought of having to be all over the man with this revealing dress on, but you really did have no choice, plus you didn’t pack any other dresses. Rolling your shoulders, you head back towards your duffel bag, pulling out a small makeup bag and setting it down near the mirror as you unzipped it. 

Doing your makeup was like a fun hobby for you, you didn’t know how to describe it. You just really like doing it when you’re bored, but this is different since it’s for a mission. 

You don’t know how long you took on your makeup before your phone dings, the familiar ring echoing the jet as you rushed over to your phone. 

Flipping over your phone, the time immediately greets you. 6:45, the party starts at 7, but you need to be early in order to spot John. Skimming through the notifications on your lockscreen, one in particular catches your eye.

Natty🤍:”Goodluck on the mission, detka.” 

The first one said, it was sent a few minutes after you boarded the quinjet a few hours ago.

Natty🤍:”I miss you already. I’ll be waiting when you get back. :)” 

Your eyes drift toward when the message was delivered, an hour after her first message.

Awe. Her smiley faces were so cute. You quickly unlocked your phone and darted to Nat’s messages with you, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you typed up a quick message. 

Y/n/n🔥: “Miss you too, baby. Movie night when I get back?” 

Your attention quickly caught when you felt the quinjet land, you instantly shoved your phone in an extra holster you had on your thigh. 

What? It’s a perfect fit. Plus you’re wearing a dress with no purse, and you were practically forced to keep your phone on you. Fury always made sure to text everybody ominously.  

You rush over to the other side of the jet, where the weapons were held. You pause briefly to browse through the weapons before your hands instantly grab what you wanted.

Yeah, you had powers, so why would you need a weapon? Well the short answer to that would be incase he was aware that you would be attending, even more aware about your powers. So you weren’t going to take any chances.

The weapon that was held gently in your grasp was a ridiculously sharp sword, it was your favorite. If you had the chance, you would be rambling on and on about this exact sword. 

It was retractable, easy to conceal if you were undercover, but your favorite part was that it didn’t melt from your flames. But, that wasn’t the only thing it could do, it isn’t a one trick pony. 

Since the blade doesn’t melt from your flames, it bursts into flames, as if it were another part of your body. You found it fascinating because it truly was. It takes you back to when Bruce called it boring, you quite vividly remember telling him to fuck off. He did have it coming, didn’t he?

You retracted the blade and gently placed it into your other holster as you walk back over to the medical bed, slipping on your heels as you spritz generous amounts of perfume on your neck. 

Swiftly pulling out your phone, you check the time, 6:50. Damn, only five minutes passed by, you assumed it had been ten. Shoving your phone back into its holster, you check yourself once more as the ramp starts to lower.

Walking out the quinjet, you look over your shoulder once more and watch the jet conceal itself. You’ll honestly never get over that.

It took you a quick minute to find the fire escape stairs but soon enough you found yourself in the alleyway next to where the auction was supposed to be held. 

You straightened your dress again as you began to strut towards the very obvious entryway of the auction. This looks like it would be a very easy mission.

You huff to yourself as your gaze meets the bouncer, his gaze scanning you as he crosses his arms over his chest as his posture straightens up.

“Danielle Jones.” The fake name flowing out of your mouth with a silky tone as you show him your fake id. Your other hand lands on his bicep, slowly rubbing it as he immediately handed you back your id, his face flushed a deep red. 

Your fingertips trail up to his shoulder before pulling away as you stepped behind him and into the auction. The place was alive, there was a ton of people dressed beautifully, some clad in masquerade masks. 

You walked straight over to the bar, yeah, it was bad drinking on the job. But you desperately needed to blend in, and it wouldn’t make your case any better if the target saw you just wandering.

As you were scanning the area, your eyes snap to a familiar figure slumped at the bar nursing a drink. Dirty blond, curly hair, well you’ll be damned. 

You huff out a laugh as you approach, your hand gently resting upon his shoulder as you called out to the bartender for a whiskey.

“Hiya, Brian. What’cha doing here?” You smile at the bartender as a thanks once he handed your drink before turning. Your back leaning against the counter as you sipped your whiskey, your eyes trained on Brian.

“Meeting a friend.” His blue eyes travel from his glass towards you, meeting your stare. 

“Cut the shit, Brian. You’re here for the auction, aren’t you?” You raise an eyebrow at him, a smile tugging on your lips as you took another sip of your whiskey, setting it down on the counter behind you.

“You aren’t? The cars they got are practically calling our names.” He smirks as he leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his curls. 

You roll your eyes as you leaned back further into the counter, before your eyes snap towards him once more, a smile played on your lips.

“What’d you say for another task?”

“I’m listening.”

“John Adams, drug lord, wants to do stupid shit with one of the weapons being sold here.” You mumble under your breath, your eyebrow raising in question to confirm that he heard. 

Seeing his slight nod while he processes the information, your eyes trail away from him, spotting the target across the room from you two. The sight making you nudge your knee against Brian’s.

Brians eyes shoot up towards yours, before he slowly turns around to look in the direction you’re looking in. You assume he got the memo as he downs the last of his drink, his fingers slightly grazing the gun on his belt to make sure it’s in place before he gave a subtle nod to you.

Your gaze doesn’t break from John as you made your way across the room, rounding through the tables that stood in your way. As the distance closes between you and John, you whisper underneath your breath, enough for Brian to hear.

“Wait for me at the door of the bathroom, have your gun ready.” Before he could respond, you were already off towards John, your hips swaying slightly as the golden hues hit you.

The moment you passed by John, you heard a gruff voice call out to you. You smirk slightly before turning around, John was turned around in his chair as his arm was outstretched towards you slightly.

“Hey! You! Yeah you, come ‘ere, darling.” Your nose crinkles slightly at the pet name, you didn’t mind it. But you definitely didn’t like it when it came out of his mouth.

You walked towards the chubby man, your hips swaying more noticeably. Once you were stood right in front of him, his hands shot up to rest on your hips. The action made you clench your jaw in disgust.

“You’re such a pretty ‘lil thing. Did you come here with anybody?” His words came out slurred as you could practically smell the stench of beer flowing out of his mouth.

“No, I came alone.” 

“What’s your name, pretty girl?” His grin grow by the second as you feel his hands traveling from your hips to your waist.

“Danielle.” You husk out, the disgust washing over you, but you brush it aside. It’s for the mission. You repeated in your mind over and over.

You move forward a step from where you stood, your hands resting on the armrests that resided on either side of the man. You feel John’s hands slowly tracing down your waist before harshly groping your ass, making you gasp.

“Well, Danielle. What’d you think about coming back to mine?” He purred, his hands now massaging the flesh of your ass, your face contorting into a subtle wince.

“I can’t just go home with you. I don’t even know your name.” You husk, your face turning into a slight pout, one of your hands raising to trace his sternum.

“John, John Adams.” You felt one of his hands trailing up towards your lower back, attempting to push you down onto his lap. 

You grab his hand before tugging him up from his seat, leading him towards the bathroom. You can feel the harsh stare he has on your ass while the two of you walk there.

Once the bathrooms come into view, it took you a second you to Brian hiding in the room across the bathroom, the door slightly ajar. 

The two of you finally reached the door of the bathroom as you wrapped your arms around the mans neck in a hug. As you felt one of John’s hands holding you back, the other fiddling with the door, your eyes met with Brians.

Brian got the hint and you soon saw the barrel of his gun poke out slightly through the gap of the door. A muffled shot rung out at the same your flames burst out your hands, burning the flesh of his neck. You felt John’s body slump against yours, his hands falling down to his sides. 

You grunt as you shove him off of you, rolling your eyes and smiling as you saw Brian pop his head out before he opened the door fully and stepping out.

“That was quick.”

“Wish it was quicker, he was irritating.” You hold the bathroom door open as Brian swiftly kicks John’s body into the bathroom. As soon as you two quickly clean up the area, the two of you find yourselves back into the alleyway, making your way to the quinjet.

“Anyways, what’re you thinking for a snack. Shawarma?” 

————♡————

You and Brian were approaching the door that lead to the living room, where FRIDAY told you Natasha was. You didn’t plan on texting Natasha about your arrival, deciding that it was better as a surprise. 

The two of you hushed each other once you were finally stood right in front of the living room door with Shawarma takeout in your hold. But a precious sight graced itself the moment you both opened it. 

Another presence FRIDAY forgot to mention was Bruce. Your shoulders slump slightly as your arms tense at your sides. From the corner of your eye, you could see Brian’s jaw tightly clenched.

Brian was very fond of Bruce Banner, he really had it out for the scientist, even if Bruce wasn’t aware of that fact. During one apparently small mission, Bruce happened to be in the same place as Brian.

And you could practically guess what happened, Bruce turned green. You don’t know what the hell pissed him off but you didn’t give a shit. Hulk was destroying building after building in a tantrum, soon enough he reached the streets where Brian, you, and the rest of your friends were. 

Like expected, he demolished your cars, he was honestly so lucky he didn’t hurt your friends or you would have honestly blasted his brains out. But that wouldn’t change the fact that every single one of your cars were crushed, nothing to preserve.

To this very day, Brian still has a terrible grudge against Bruce, and you understood. Because not only did those cars that he crushed help you get money, they costed a crap ton to even own.

But this sight of him perched on the couch with Natasha was not pretty, at all. What made the scene even uglier was what you noticed to be Natasha’s hand on his chest, leaning her whole body into his side, practically cuddling into him.

You didn’t notice your flames flaring up the length of your arms before you felt Brian nudge you, the action making you glance at him. He sent you a subtle shake of his head, mouthing the words “It’s not worth it.”

As your eyes were trained on Brian, you heard a familiar giggle echo throughout the room, the both of your heads snapping to the origin of the sound. 

Natasha’s other arm was now wrapped around his neck, the both of her arms now encasing Bruce in a hug. Your eyes trail down towards her phone, next to the arm of the couch, discarded. From your place at the door, you could see your last message on her lock screen. 

That’s why she didn’t reply to your message. Damn. She could have at least read it, or hearted it. Your heart ached, yearning for comfort, comfort from the person that was sat a few feet from you.

Your eyes glance towards Brian once more, his eyes now hardened, before he nods to you, giving you the affirmative. 

Taking quiet steps behind the couch, you were now stood behind the two cuddled individuals. Your eyes gleaming a dangerous gold as the veins in your forearm shone a deep red, sparks threatening to blow.

“Uht. Uht. What the fuck is this?”Your eyes narrowing as the two individuals before you jumped from their place, scrambling away from each other once they saw the golden hue within your eyes.

“It’s not what it looks like, milaya.” Natasha struggled to get up as her knees buckled from beneath her, before she shot up, rounding the couch with her arms outstretched to you.

“Cut the bullshit, I’m not dumb. Cuddled up with Banner while you couldn’t even think to text me back?” You hissed, the glow in your eyes intensifying as you can hear the springs of the couch springing back into place as Bruce attempted to stand up.

From your peripheral, you could see Brian unholstering his gun from his waistband, immediately holding the barrel to Bruce’s forehead in warning.

“Everybody else was called on a mission, we were just passing time until you got back.” She pleaded as her hands reached out to cup your face, to which you immediately recoil and drop the takeout.

“You’re funny. You call that passing time? Might as well fuck if you were just “passing time.” You laughed as you leaned back on your heels, your face hardening once more, arms crossing over your figure. An attempt to cover up the fact that tears were slightly welling up in your eyes.

“Listen, I’m not up to hearing your excuses, especially when I just got back from a mission. Just...” You sigh, your knuckles popping as your hands formed into tight fists, crescent moon shaped marks taking shape on your palm with how tight your grip was.

“Just..Make up your damn mind, alright? Come back to me when you do.” You take a deep breath, the glow in your veins dispersing once you composed yourself.

“But I choose you! Y/n, it’s you..” She pleaded once more, her voice hushing into a whisper as she takes in the reality of the situation.

“So all we’re doing is just telling jokes today, huh? If it really was me, then you’d still be waiting for the movie night, and not be on the couch with Slimer from fucking Ghostbusters.”

“I promise you-“ “Don’t. You wanna tell jokes? I got one for you. How about…Hm.. That green booger almost fucking ruined my career that me and Brian spent so long trying to build. How’s that for a joke?”

Your nose crinkles as your hands stretches out to point towards Bruce. Sighing, you run a hand down your face, rolling your eyes in annoyance. You take one last deep breath as you straighten yourself up.

“I want you to really think this through.” You deadpan, before your gaze meets Brians, your eyes giving him the memo that this altercation was done as he holsters his gun.

The two of you slowly walk back to the door where you walked in from, you looked behind your shoulder once more, analyzing the room before it slowly meets Natasha’s.

Natasha held a pleading look as tears welled up in the corner of her eyes, her nose beginning to turn a light shade of pink. The sight made you turn your head away from her, you could practically feel the intensifying cracks in your heart. 

Once the door finally shut behind the two of you, the silence rattled Natasha, her shoulders shaking in quiet sobs. The tears falling down her cheeks as she cried, unsure whether it was stress or the loss of you.

♡ 

You don’t know how either of you found yourselves here, it was a closed off track near the ocean, and somehow the two of you thought it was perfect to race against each other.

At first you brushed off the idea, deeming it stupid at a time lime this. But the more you thought about it, you loved night races, the view was always beautiful. 

Soon enough, you gave in to Brian, shuffling the keys out of your pocket as you both head to the garage with your treasured cars. You ended up picking a random car, it wasn’t too shabby. 

It was a car that Suki gifted to you, you happened to be good friends with her alongside Brian. To be frank, you forgot all the context to why she gave you the car.

The car was cute though, it was your favorite color, the interior of the car had LEDS you assumed and it also lit up your favorite color. You wondered why you never used this car more often.

Once you notice that Brian finally picked out his car, the two of you drove to the start of the track, smirks played on your faces.

“Don’t get dusted, bullet”

“Now you know damn well.”

The two of you laugh before you rev your engines, your eyes locking onto the track ahead of you as you leaned back into your chair slightly.

1.

2.

…3

And you two were off, you both drifted your way through the track. Taking a quick glance to your left, you see Brian with a cocky smirk on his face, the sight making you roll your eyes before you floor it.

The distance between you and Brian starts to increase little by little. Once you start to approach the corner, you drift into it, effectively dusting Brian as your view of him disappears, smoke filling the air and blocking it .

Quicker than you expected, the two of you were approaching the end of the track, and stood there was a figure not too far from the track. The minute you got closer, the striking red hair was the first thing your eyes saw.

You immediately brake once you reached the end, slouching in your seat slightly as you waited for Brian to catch up, which didn’t take long. Stepping out the car, your nose slightly scrunches up at the smell of smoke but you shake it off.

You met Brian half way and shook his hand, his eyes holding a playful look as he shoves you lightly, you roll your eyes at his action.

“Warned you about being dusted, gotta deal with the repercussions.” 

“You cheated.”

“Cheated where?”

The both of you close your mouths at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Taking a deep breath, you turn your body to face Natasha, a confused expression plastered on your face as she stood there with her arms crossed.

“Can I talk to Y/n? Alone?” She gestured towards Brian, making him turn his head to look towards you with a concerned look. To which you nod with a soft smile gracing your lips. 

“Wait in the car, I’ll meet you there, bullet.” Brian hesitated for a moment before patting your shoulder, walking off in the direction of his car. 

Once he was out of earshot, your gaze falls onto her, a questioning look in your eyes as you mimic her movements by crossing your arms.

“Okay look. Y/n, I’m sorry. I..” She lets out a deep sigh, her hands rubbing over her biceps in a form of comfort as she musters the words to speak.

“I wasn’t sober. I was in the kitchen at first, had a glass of wine, but then he came and conjured a conversation while slowly urging me to drink more.” The words practically left you shellshocked, but you knew better than to believe so quickly.

“That’s when we ended up on the couch, originally there was space between us, but he pulled me towards him.” 

“But that doesn’t explain why you didn’t pull away, you stayed like that until I walked in and said something.”

“Because I wasn’t sober! Y/n. You’ve seen me reject him so many fucking times so why can’t you believe me on this?” 

“Because it’s so easy to lie with words, Natasha. But actions never lie, they never do.” 

“I promise you, detka. I’m not lying. He made moves onto me while I was drunk. Please believe me.” She practically begged as she stepped closer and closer to you until she was directly in front of you.

“It’s so hard to believe you, Natasha.. You never answered my text, hell your phone was across the damn couch. You were giggling at every single word that he said.” 

“I-.” “See that’s my point, Nat.”

“Baby, he took my phone.” 

“We playin jokes again?” Your eyebrows furrow as your eyes narrow at Natasha, either it was true or it’s some wack ass excuse.

“No! No. Babe. I promise. It was at the table. I was gonna text you after my first glass of wine but he snatched it, threw it to god knows where. That’s why I had no choice but to talk to him.”

You sigh, shutting your eyes as you raised your hand to run through your hair while you were deep in thought, your eyes flickering beneath your eyelids. There was a few minutes of silence between you two as you pondered.

Your eyes shoot open as you slowly check the time on your phone, it was midnight. You zone out for a minute before blinking back into reality, your eyes shifting towards Natasha’s pleading ones.

“I believe you. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow once we’re rested, but you’ve got a lot of making up to do.” Your voice drops to a soft yet stern tone, trying to soothe Natasha before she actually cried. 

“Thank you, malyshka. I love you.” She mumbles before pulling you into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. You froze for a moment, not sure if you should forgive her that fast. 

But you gave in, your arms wrapping around her midsection as they gently rubbed her spine. You were going to have a long talk with Bruce before you could forgive Natasha, but it was best to at least assure her that you don’t hate her.

“I love you too, baby.” You mumble into her hair. Bruce was definitely going to hear from you, maybe you might let Brian get some words in. You weren’t sure. That was all a plan for tomorrow.

[moondirti]

i accidentally deleted the ask i received yesterday (like an idiot) so im dumping the rant i left underneath it for archival reasons

what i love most about big ugly brute simon is pairing him with girls who get a little too close. perhaps they catch him staring in public and smile politely, a little daunted but attributing what they can to innocent intent over malice. who treat him with basic decency, or perhaps extend a little extra kindness if they take the dead look in his eyes to be consequence of a rough day. the one's who hold doors open for him, or let him skip in line because he looks like he can really do with the coffee. the maybe he's just misunderstood, never judge a book by it's cover, treat others the way you want to be treated type.

kind, polite, genuinely good girls, who live life by the please and thank you handbook they were given in kindergarten, and were never taught when to keep it to themselves. well-meaning always, yet either foolish or curious when they give a beast the benefit of the doubt.

because while their courtesy is just that in the eyes of conventional society, it has an absolutely foul effect on one simon riley.

say it's because hardly anyone is ever keen on him. certainly not pretty birds, with pretty wrists, and pretty hair and clothes and easily corruptible smiles. at the first sign of warmth, he'll pounce. all animal, blinded hunger. cruel passion he knows you're not built to take, your heart pulpy like saccharine fruit. cruel passion that he will inflict anyway; trailing behind you all the way home, choreographing meetings, pushing your courtesy to its limits by being nothing but a rude brute. he bullies his way into your life, making a man-sized hole where he was uninvited (though he'll contest that. what does a smile mean if not lay over me and print yourself on my womb?). bullies you into submission, weaponising that tenderness to suit his real needs–

not coffee, or a good morning, or anything but a warm cunt and meal to come home to.

i don't think he'd ever ease up the intensity, either. even if you acquiesce or are flattered by the distasteful attention. though simon might soften up to you (in the only way he can: lending his ear while you talk about his day, or walking blocks in the rain to fetch takeout from that specific greek place you've been craving), he's still mean about it. presses you where you're weak, isolates you from your friends. hones derision when you continue to be just as amicable to everyone else. you must be asking for it, see, if you had been asking for it with him. is a big dick about it, callous and nasty as he can be – because you allow him to be, babbling tearful apologies into his chest instead of standing up for yourself.

doesn't believe any of it, of course. he knows you're too sweet for your own good. but he can't help but love seeing you get all desperate when you cry. makes his knees go weak. his head itch. you'll hold on to his arm – soft and wet and repentant, pure silk against his gnarled edges (a point people will always latch onto. how'd he land that? right minger he is) – until he growls something about making it up to him.

which you jump at. good, good, generous girl. will seat yourself, fine china between thighs that could crush you, and choke on his ruddy cock. maybe he holds you down on it, stuffs your nose onto the untamed mess of his pubes until your little legs kick for breath. or, maybe he'll lead you to down to fit your tongue in his ass, tugging himself over you until cum mats your hair. whatever the most vile, debased thing he can conceptualise at the moment is fair game. not necessarily because of the deed itself, but because he lives for nothing more than watching you do it despite not wanting to. to please him :(

sorry im a little crazy about this