#gate? yeah sure he has a gate. whatever.

[prommytheus]

bg3 sounds like a game someone made up in a story. ive never seen gameplay of it anyway so as far im aware you guys are all just playing a really elaborate game of pretend

[what-is-it-to-be-pk-esque]

Ok I know I'm heavily biased here but like I kinda love that Astarion's romance is one of the few in this type of video game where you basically end up canonically unmarried and childfree in his "good" ending? Just travelling the world??

Like it's honestly the millennial dream lmfaoo cannot believe i chose what would undoubtedly be my favorite option, first try

[feywildfox]

Mm i left bandom space a long long time ago. I mean I'm not that old but ten years ago is still pretty long. And frankly if i overstep lemme know.

Honestly at this point i shouldnt be surprised so many people are actually still inherently racist towards Ray, but also i think, i should be. Because i genuinely expected better from mcr bandom, but again, left bandom spaces a decade ago...

It's pretty sad? Like. I'll admit, I didn't realize Ray was actually a man of colour when i was younger. I think i realized right around the time i left at 15 or so. Which also really goes to show that racism towards him and making him seem as white as possible which definitely i think was a thing. Like in comparison, I knew pete wentz was mixed long before i figured out Ray was a poc. It says a lot about the space at the time and i had honestly thought it'd be better now.

I've loved mcr for years, but i havent been IN love with them for a while. It happens, relationships and feeling wax and wane. But this tour, the excitement and love recently ignited in not just Gerard with all their gender fuckery, but the whole band, has brought a love and joy back into my life for music that hit me in the heart as a preteen and teenager.

And none of that would be possible without Ray Toro putting his all into the feelings and conveying of in his music. Mikey made the band, but ray MAKES the band. He is absolutely fucking integral and it is disgusting & disheartening to see him treated such a way. What the fuck even, hearing that streamers are zooming in on frank during Rays solos?? Like do the fuck better? I'm honestly disappointed as fuck in that shit. Like I know this whole thing is a little disjointed stream of consciousness type post but really. White people do better challenge! Its literally SO fucking easy. The real camera guys are RIGHT THERE showing what to fucking do!

You can love the others as much as you want but jesus fuck give Ray the same fucking courtesy. Stop ignoring your racism, start recognizing the issues that plague you from being white and growing up in white privilege. I sure as fuck still have plenty of shit to work on but at least i can say i can do the bare fucking MINIMUM of giving Ray Toro the respect and attention he absolutely fucking deserves.

Like I do hope this is understood I am not trying to speak over anyone but simply say from one white to another: you need to do better. If that's how you treat a member of supposedly one of your fav bands, i genuinely fear for the poc you encounter in your life. The harm you cause by staying blind may be incremental but it builds up until it's a mountain. Do fucking better.

[riality-check]

This is not how Wayne was expecting to come home from work.

He had expected, as usual, that Eddie would be asleep, and he’d be free to watch the 5:00 AM news. He’d have a bowl of cereal for dinner (or was it breakfast at that point?), and then he’d be out like a light while Eddie did whatever it was he did before noon. Usually, that was sleep.

The exact opposite of what Wayne was expecting is happening right now. 

He didn’t even get his keys out of his pocket before Eddie whips the door open. He looks a mess: hair tied back loosely, pajamas off kilter, panic mixed with exhaustion on his face.

“Oh, thank Christ,” he croaks. “Wayne, I need your help. I have no idea what to do.”

Wayne can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Eddie panic like this. He shoulders past him into the trailer and is greeted with the sight of Steve Harrington standing in the middle of his living room.

“What on God’s green earth,” he murmurs. He blinks, then blinks again, but Harrington is still there, in pajamas, the tire iron Eddie still keeps under his bed in his hands. He’s breathing real heavy, and he stares out the window, stock-still.

“The hell happened?” Wayne asks, keeping his voice low.

“I don’t know,” Eddie whispers desperately. “I don’t know what happened, but he got up and grabbed the iron and just stood here-”

“How long?”

“Ten minutes, maybe.”

Wayne doesn’t like where this is going. “Has he responded to you at all?”

“No-”

Shit.

“-but I can try again?”

Wayne eyes the white-knuckled grip Harrington has on the tire iron. He’s ready to swing, and Wayne knows he’ll swing hard if given the chance.

No way he’s risking Eddie. No way he’s risking Harrington. Wayne doesn’t know him well, only met him a few times in passing, but he knows he’d never forgive himself if he hurt Eddie.

“No. Don’t try again.”

“I’m not leaving him.”

“Didn’t ask you to. All I’m saying is don’t go near.”

Eddie is very good at following instructions to the letter and to the letter only, much to Wayne’s fond annoyance. So, he doesn’t go near.

Instead, he says, voice strangely soft, “Stevie, sweetheart.”

Harrington doesn’t respond, but he turns a little in the direction of Eddie’s voice. Wayne takes that as a good sign, even if he can see the tension on his face now.

“Will you come back to sleep? Please?” Wayne hates hearing Eddie’s voice crack the way it is right now.

Harrington faces them a little better, and Wayne sees what he was expecting.

He’s staring through them, not at them. Wherever Harrington is, it sure ain’t here.

“I don’t know how much that’s gonna help, Eddie. He’s having-”

“I know he’s having a flashback, Wayne!” Eddie snaps. “I’m not stupid. It’s usually just not this bad, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Alright,” Wayne says because snapping back won’t help anyone. That and because he’s trying to process the fact that Eddie has had to deal with this before. “Let me try.”

He takes a few steps toward Harrington, keeping his hands up and his movements slow.

“Harrington,” he calls, keeping his tone light. “You’re at Eddie’s place right now. It’s almost five AM on a Friday night.”

Harrington blinks, and it looks like his eyes are coming back into focus.

“You’re safe right now. Eddie’s safe right now.”

Harrington shakes his head and lifts the tire iron a little higher. Christ, his arms must be aching by now. “No. I saw the lights flicker, and I heard a thud outside, and it got cold.”

“Stevie, the gate’s closed,” Eddie pleads. “You saw it happen. Nothing got out. You’re safe.”

Wayne doesn’t know what any of that means, but even though it was supposed to reassure Harrington, he just shakes his head again.

He hears Eddie sigh behind him, and he knows without turning around that he’s trying not to cry.

Guess he’s gotta try something different, then. “You just wake up?”

Harrington blinks, and for a minute, Wayne thinks this won’t get them anywhere. But then he whispers, just loud enough to be heard, “Yeah.”

“Okay. I just got off work.”

Harrington stares at him, confused.

“So, I think I’m a little more awake than you. I’ll take what you’ve got in your hands, and I can stay up.”

Harrington shakes his head. “It’s fine. I stay up most of the time when I’m alone.”

Alone. Wayne knows from experience, both personal and witnessing this shit, that alone is the last thing anyone should be when they’re having a flashback. Harrington says it like it’s the only thing he’s ever known.

He dismisses his questions - why is Harrington having flashbacks, why is he alone - and focuses on getting him to put down the tire iron and go to bed.

“You’re not alone this time,” Wayne says. “You’ve got Eddie here, too, and I think both of you would feel better if you were together.”

Harrington looks over Wayne’s shoulder. Wayne doesn’t turn around, but he can imagine the pleading look on Eddie’s face just fine.

Wayne holds out his hands for the tire iron, and after a minute, or maybe a month, Harrington sets it there. Immediately, he looks lighter and heavier.

Eddie walks up next to Wayne and murmurs, “Come on, sugar.”

Harrington goes to him and just rests his head on his shoulder. Eddie holds him there, just standing in the middle of the living room, sunrise just starting to peek in through the windows.

Thank you, he mouths to Wayne.

Wayne nods, but he’s got a hell of a lot more questions than answers - what the hell brought this on, what exactly is Harrington to Eddie. That can wait for morning, though.

For now, he just hopes Harrington will be okay by then.

No, not Harrington. Steve.

After something like this, Wayne has learned, you start using first names.

[cambion-companion]

Baldur's Gate 3 Characters with Virgin Reader

18+ only obviously. Dirty headcanons under the cut. (these are all the "good" endings btw

Halsin would honestly be a little in awed shock when you tell him. He'd treat you tenderly, go slowly and save the more rough lovemaking once you're accustomed to his...girth.

There is a lot of emotional connection that goes into the intimate act and knowing its his partner's first time would mean a great deal to him, he takes the perceived responsibility seriously.

Yall would have to go slow though, to accomodate the guy's size. Has strength as his dump stat yet is built like a brick house.

He's all for the game of seduction, especially if he is still unsure of where he stands with you and your party.

When discovering you're a virgin he acts the part, flirting and using honeyed words to manipulate your heart.

However as the two of you grow closer his feelings also change and he feels anxious about knowing he has your utter consent before taking things further.

He knows what it feels like to be used and wants to avoid causing you the same hurt and feelings of doubt, because against all odds he has begun to care for you.

So much foreplay...SO much foreplay. And you can be in whatever position you want, it's all about your comfort when the time comes to be intimate.

yeah she'd tease you at first, all in good fun, but still she has to get those sharp words in somewhere.

Soon enough the teasing gives way to concerned questions, not probing too deep into your feelings, but enough to give her hints as to how comfortable you feel with her.

We all know Shadowheart is a slow burn romance, so expect a long buildup while your relationship blossoms.

Lots of sweet kisses and witty flirtations, respecting each other's space until the time feels right to take it to the next level.

perhaps it's after one of your many swimming lessons where you Shadowheart takes the reins and becomes the teacher of a different kind of lesson.

She'd be asking questions throughout, listening to your responses and making sure everything is perfect and you're not feeling rushed.

Oh she would be so sweet. You know how Karlach is usually quite boisterous and tends toward the goofy side.

She'd sober up right quick when you discuss something so personal with her and she'd be quite pleased you decided to share this with her.

She promises to take it easy on you, at least at first wink wink, and she has the idea to allow you full control to explore her body as much as you wish.

Feel her heart, or at least where her heart used to be, it blazes hotter under your touch.

She might pop the occasional sweet joke, but her eyes and her care is on you the whole time.

She will ask if now is okay, and make sure to gain your express verbal permission before touching your body herself.

She is gentle at first, as promised, but it becomes hard for her to contain her enthusiasm as your coupling progresses. Remind her if you deem it necessary.

Gale, he'd be surprised but I think pleased.

He would want you to feel comfortable with him, and thus would info dump about his Tressym and the many books he's read about magic and the weave.

It's all about words of affirmation and quality time with Gale, he wants to show you and tell you how much you truly mean to him and reaffirm it is you, not Mystra, with whom is explosive heart now lies.

When the night comes, because he does prefer the romance of a star filled sky, he would ask you if you wish to become one with him.

Maybe astral sex is too soon for the first night, but you can certainly accept when he no doubt extends that offer.

I think it's pretty much canon that she beats the shit out of you when yall have intimate time...that wouldn't change on account of your virginity.

You'd tell her you're a virgin and she might not even know what that means, I wouldn't be surprised. Either that or she truly does not understand why you think it's important to mention.

She would encourage you to take initiative and assume a more dominant role, prodding you (probably with a stick) if you got too shy.

Later on, in her storyline when she becomes more of an individual unto herself, she will understand the softer aspects of lovemaking.

Then she will be more willing to empathize with the feelings that must come with a first-time coupling, and act a little slower accordingly.

Still prepare yourself for the occasional impatient "tchuk".

are you kidding, he'd be the ultimate gentleman.

He'd definitely get you a picnic and take you somewhere that smells better than the party camp and that stew Gale attempted to make for supper.

I feel like he'd be more forward than Gale or Karlach, wanting to feel some semblance of peace that your body and your affection could offer.

He'd for sure be drawn to your inexperience, feeling a sense of protectiveness overcome him. (yes yes I understand this post is full of innuendo)

Might wax poetic about his many adventures but pull him in for another kiss and he'll quickly forget his train of thought.

yes, I made him wait in line, little shit

This cambion knows how to fuck, sit down and block me if you vehemently disagree.

He finds out you're a virgin, and interested in him? Game over.

He plays the long game in all his dealings, and won't be bothered if you choose to play hard to get....in fact he prefers it. Cat and mouse etc.

He's not gentle, nope, but when you're finally in his claws you hardly want him to be.

Doesn't have the bonus of Incubus spittle acting as an aphrodisiac but has had many bedmates and centuries to study how best to use another's body to pleasure his own.

Oh and bring you pleasure of course.

no

Go play DOS2

[astonmartinii]

head in the clouds | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem flight attendant!reader

there's no one more attractive than the stranger at the same gate as you at the airport and sometimes that stranger works on your best friend's private jet.

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 3,105 others

yourusername: violently hungover, don't tell my boss x

view all comments

user1: i need to be her

maxverstappen1: your boss follows you on instagram genius

yourusername: oh yeah lol but i'm still alive and i was still on time

maxverstappen1: you took a nap on the flight?

yourusername: it was about ten billion hours long so spare me the lecture

maxverstappen1: you're so lucky we're friends otherwise i'd fire your ass

yourusername: you love me too much to do that maxy (and i know way too much about you) x

user2: how did you get this job?

yourusername: nepotism babes x

danielricciardo: i think you masked it pretty well for the first three hours

yourusername: THANK YOU

danielricciardo: but i did hear you throw up around hour four

yourusername: nothing like a tactical chunder on your childhood friend's private jet

landonorris: i for one couldn't tell you were hungover

yourusername: well look who's my new favourite, you should fly with max more often

danielricciardo: he's only saying that cause he has a crush, I'M STILL YOUR FAVOURITE

yourusername: whatever helps you sleep at night x

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,034,566 others

tagged: danielricciardo

landonorris: reunited and it feels so good 😊

view all comments

user3: always obsessed with this pairing

user4: they're cute but i know they're so annoying to fly with

danielricciardo: i knew you missed me :)

landonorris: of course i did you big sap

danielricciardo: so you didn't replace me with a younger and sexier version of me?

landonorris: not technically no

oscarpiastri: i'm just gonna take the compliment, thanks dan :)

danielricciardo: massive compliment, i'm extremely sexy

user5: thank the lord daniel is back who was going to make lando blush all the time?

danielricciardo: believe me he doesn't need me to do that when he flies on air max that's all y/n

landonorris: DANIEL?

danielricciardo: she took these photos - look at the blush. LOOK AT THE MATERIAL

yourusername: i think i'm just a better photographer than you two combined so i just capture my subjects well

danielricciardo: nope. i think lando just has a BIG FAT CRUSH

maxverstappen1: LMAO

yourusername: who wouldn't? (i'm shaking)

user6: wtf is going on here?

user7: i think we're witnessing bullying

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 892,330 others

tagged: georgerussell63, alexalbon, landonorris & yourusername

maxverstappen1: getting some padel in on the weekend off

view all comments

user9: max really puts his hyperfixations above his beef because who thought we'd see him playing with george after baku

danielricciardo: how did lando get through a whole session with y/n there he can barely get through a sentence around her

landonorris: why are you so obsessed with exposing me in public

danielricciardo: funny.

yourusername: he did very well, he took a few balls to the face but he took them like a champ.

maxverstappen1: i'm sure he'd rather be the one putting balls in your face. get it? his balls? sex?

yourusername: i got it, you're not funny pal

maxverstappen1: well i think i'm hilarious so

user10: poor lando is going through the ringer rn

yourusername: whipped all of your asses call yourself professional athletes?

alexalbon: you were freakishly good what is your trick?

yourusername: only time i'm not playing padel is when i'm asleep or on a charter with max it's the only thing i can be better than him in

landonorris: you're definitely better looking than him and like 10 million times nicer than him

yourusername: you're not too bad yourself norris, you've just bagged yourself an extra bag of peanuts next flight x

alexalbon: romance is dead

f1wagsupdates

liked by user11, user12 and 4,109 others

tagged: yourusername

f1wagsupdates: this is y/n y/ln potential new girlfriend of lando norris. she is a close friend of max verstappen, to the point that after she finished university and was without a job, he financed her education to be a air hostess, the job she now has on max's private jet. as far as we know she's never been in a public relationship but she also lives in monaco, is a padel enthusiast and has exchanged flirty comments with lando. also, she's a real one because she refuses to charter if jos wants to fly on air max - she slays for that one

view all comments

user13: if she's a longtime, potential childhood friend of max, the jos thing probably makes sense

user14: gosh she's so pretty

user15: giving your bestie a job and a life where you get to have her travel with you everywhere is really what nepotism should be

user16: for real where's my friend who will pay for me to learn to be a air hostess so we can hang out all the time

user17: i think her and lando would be cute

user18: and they would also make sense, they'd have a schedule that completely lines up and y/n would understand the sport and the lifestyle

user19: she also knows all of his friends already and they seem to get on with her

user20: "never been in a public relationship" she's just like us

user21: except she's gonna pull lando freaking norris and we're all still lonely

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 17,098 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: THE way to spend your saturday, perks of the job x

view all comments

user22: hey siri play that should be me by justin bieber

maxverstappen1: glad you could take a break from being a tourist to actually come watch me

yourusername: lies i'm always there you just don't know because i sit in hospitality so i can drink ;)

maxverstappen1: is that why my mum looked so happy to see me after sitting with you in hospitality?

yourusername: NO! sophie just loves me

user23: omg y/n and sophie just chill in hospitality? i love them

landonorris: i heard mclaren have great hospitality and actually has a cup of tea with your name written all over it

yourusername: hmmm we'll see if it beats the team who broke the cost cap on catering but i'm willing to take that risk

landonorris: i promise it's worth your time

danielricciardo: @maxverstappen1 look he's finally making a move 👀

maxverstappen1: ugh finally !!!

yourusername: yall mind? ACTUALLY i'm not coming back to red bull you're annoying

user24: has the bullying worked ?

mclarenf1

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 1,093,455 others

tagged: landonorris

mclarenf1: lando is back on the podium with a p2 finish with oscar just behind in p4 congrats papaya boys!!

view all comments

user25: LET'S GOOOOOO THE WIN IS COMING I CAN FEEL IT

oscarpiastri: congrats lando :)

landonorris: your podium will come oscar you're killing it right now

user26: omg faves i can't wait until the double podium

user27: y/n in the likes ..... 🤔 makes you think

yourusername: idk what you conspiracy theorists want to hear but you don't need to know everything that happens in the drivers' personal lives and i can like posts of my friends doing well

user28: so you're not together

yourusername: you people have the reading comprehension skills of a rock

maxverstappen1: congrats mate, try not to get too drunk tonight, air max is scheduled early in the morning 👍

landonorris: i'll be there no worries

danielricciardo: of course he will, his favourite will be there

landonorris: laugh all you will but i have a pack of peanuts promised to me

yourusername: i'll put salt in their drinks don't worry lando

maxverstappen1: i have done nothing wrong?

yourusername: i am in solidarity with lando

maxverstappen1: i'm ur best friend?

yourusername: he's cute :)

user29: you can't tell she doesn't like him back

danielricciardo

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,209,778 others

tagged: yourusername, landonorris

danielricciardo: podiums give you balls. balls get you girlfriends.

view all comments

user32: HOLYYYYYYYYYY SHIT

maxverstappen1: they are not awake yet lol they're going to kill you

danielricciardo: i'd like to see lando try. y/n i am afraid of though.

maxverstappen1: you should be, a girl once threw a drink over me in the club for walking into her and y/n went feral. i was afraid and impressed

yourusername: had to protect your virtue max

maxverstappen1: much appreciated, probably the only time i've been attracted to you

landonorris: AND THE LAST TIME

user33: considering their new relationship just got exposed, they're doing pretty well

yourusername: oh we're waiting until daniel is in an enclosed space where if he tries to escape we all die :)

landonorris: he's going to regret this before such a long flight, esp with a hungover y/n

danielricciardo: is it too late to say i love you guys?

yourusername: free enchante merch and i'll drop it

danielricciardo: done.

landonorris: Y/N???

yourusername: what were we really going to do? plus i've had a crush on you for so long people would definitely know by now if i wasn't dead in bed

landonorris: you had a crush? why was i the only one getting bullied?

maxverstappen1: please refer to my comment about the feral club night

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,237,903 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: on a scale of 1 - 10 how annoyed would you be if someone joined a particular club on your private jet?

view all comments

user35: THE MILE HIGHER CLUB?

maxverstappen1: you're banned from the bathroom now, get a UTI i don't care do NOT shag on my plane

landonorris: so is that a 10 definietly not?

maxverstappen1: i will make sure you will never be able to use it again if you have sex on my plane with my best friend

landonorris: understood 😅

yourusername: i don't know how you did it but you made your first post about me even less romantic than dan's and his mentioned balls TWICE

landonorris: but i love you so that's all that counts right?

yourusername: i love you too but i also clean that plane so no one will shag on it or i'll scrap them

landonorris: i get the message no mile higher 😭

yourusername: but at least you get extra peanuts and the best pillow for life

landonorris: you spoil me too much

oscarpiastri: happy for you mate, it was painful watching you mope around the garage

yourusername: awww you moped ???? that's so cute

landonorris: i moped because i really liked you and daniel made it his mission to embarrass me constantly in front of you

yourusername: babe i've cleaned dan's sick off the floor of the jet nothing he could say could make me not like you

landonorris: thank the lord cause if i didn't ask you out i think i may have combusted

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 30,987 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: the 4am call times and mad max tantrums have all been worth it to meet you <3

view all comments

user36: god i have seen what you have done for others

maxverstappen1: now you're together i can say this, 1) i love you guys and i'm glad you're happy. 2) lando saw you once at a karting competition and had a crush ever since this was not new

landonorris: THAT WAS BETWEEN ME AND YOU

maxverstappen1: and he confessed that seeing you in your uniform is what finally pushed him over the edge

landonorris: STOP WHAT ARE YOU DOING

maxverstappen1: bro don't worry you guys are together, you're set for life

landonorris: thanks for having faith i guess?

maxverstappen1: BRO SHE IS SUPER DUPER IN LOVE WITH YOU

yourusername: he's not wrong

landonorris: hehehehehehehehe

oscarpiastri: he's literally sat in hospitality giggling and kicking his legs btw

landonorris: proudly so, my gf LOVES me

user37: lando got a gf before a win and i respect that

landonorris: i love you, can't wait for the rest of my life with you

yourusername: i can't wait, i'll even play golf with you x

danielricciardo: mate at least wait until the six month mark before you propose

landonorris: no promises x

note: hope you enjoyed, had this thought and i just had to do it. i'm working on requests and mamma mia p4!!

[luveline]

Love love love your writing Jade, I must have reread everything a dozen times!

For a dad!character request, what would you think of Single father Remus signing up to chaperone a school event or field trip? Maybe he meets the newest teacher, who happens to be his exact idea of the perfect person for him…

(Lots of love<3)

“Don’t get– forget your coat, dad.” 

Remus grabs his coat from the passenger seat with a self-deprecating sigh. “I’m s’posed to remember things for you, Lia.” 

Cordelia smiles up at him, her shiny coat and boots already taking on rain. “Okay, so ‘member my lunch, then.” 

Remus turns back to the passenger seat to grab her packed lunch from the footwell. “Thank you.” 

Remus is the kind of parent who writes a list every week, budgeting to the penny and laying out uniforms the night before, but he’s off-kilter today. “I wish your teacher could’ve given me some warning.” 

“She’s new, dad. You have to be nice for new people, ‘cos they don’t know– she’s not used to it.” 

Remus locks the car door, already cold to the bone and wishing they could’ve called off sick. He offers Cordelia her lunchbox (which isn’t a box at all, but a padded fabric zip up pouch in fashion with the rest of the girls her age), and tugs on his jacket. It’s not his, it belonged to Sirius a few years ago, but it got left in his wardrobe somehow and he’s been wearing it since. 

“Okay, lovely girl, what’s the rules for today?” he asks, taking her hand. 

“To be good.” 

“Yeah, and what next?” 

“To stay with my buddy.” 

“Yes, and what’s the last one?” 

She beams at him and waves their joined hands. “To have fun!” 

Remus doesn’t think he’ll be having much of it. He isn’t on the PTA, he had no idea parents even went on these trips, but they’re short-staffed at Cordelia’s school lately and now the year two teacher is off sick, and the phone call was a shock. He didn’t have the wherewithal to say no. 

Cordelia’s class are waiting outside of the school gates near a big red and green bus. Remus is the only parent. Why is he the only parent? There are around thirty kids and only two teachers, the newest of which stands at the front, your hands behind your back and a massive smile on your lips despite the bad weather. 

You’re very pretty, Remus has already thought before, and you dress sweetly, happy colours and cute skirts and pants with flowers and hearts and stars. You’re reaching up into the sky as you say, “So they have lots of energy to grow big and tall like us!”

Most of the kids are listening aptly, though pods of them chatter or fight. 

You see Remus quickly and dodge around the children to meet him. “Mr. Lupin! Hello, hi Lia. I have a packet for you.” 

He smiles awkwardly. “Right.” What’s a packet? He looks down at Cordelia but she’s straining against his hand, desperate to go and talk to her friends. “You can go, lovely. I’ll be right here.” 

“Can I sit with you on the bus?” she asks.

He’d definitely prefer it. “Whatever you want to do. Want me to have your lunchbox?” 

“No, that’s okay!” She leans up for a kiss. Remus suddenly wonders if he’s any good at being a parent, knowing you’re watching, but he leans down for a kiss and gives her a quick pat on the back. “Love you.” 

“Love you.” He clears his throat and stands up. “The packet?” 

You’re looking at him funny. 

“What?” he asks. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you stay, still smiling. He’s ninety nine percent sure you aren’t making fun. 

You load the children onto the bus and have him stand at the front with you, squished together in the aisle. “This is Lia’s dad, Mr. Lupin. Can everyone say hi?” He’s sure he’s beet red. “He’s our chaperone today. You listen to him just like you’d listen to me or Mrs. Davies. If Mr. Lupin tells you to stop talking, to stop running, anything at all, you listen. But today is about having fun and seeing all the flowers and bugs, so let’s have lots of fun!” You touch his elbow gently. He smiles. 

Lia forgets that she wanted to sit with Remus by that time, and you end up hip to hip in the front row. The children are immensely loud, and Mrs. Davies has to constantly ask them to be quiet, but it’s not as though Remus would notice; when he woke up that morning he had no idea he’d be doing this, his schoolyard crush for you feels as though it’s written over his forehead, and he’s more nervous than he’s felt in years. 

Remus is cool. He’s the cool friend, the quiet, collected one, who doesn’t stutter nor falter, but he finds it harder to be that way with you when you’ve seen him pick Cordelia up from the yard and kiss every inch of her face and tell her in baby talk that he missed her so so much. 

“I got you something.” 

Cool, Remus says to himself. I’m cool. 

You unveil an informational packet and a small purple box. “That’s just the stuff I told you on the phone this morning,” you say, “and some emergency stuff you can read before we get there. God forbid something happen, but if it does, you aren’t liable. I, however, will get in lots of trouble.” You offer the box. Even your hands are cute.

It’s a rough day. The kids are rowdy, the weather is wet. Lia’s friend Kory keeps stepping in puddles and Lia herself won’t leave Remus alone. She wants to eat lunch in his lap and half gets her way, the two of them holding hands, Remus a big head surrounded by little girls. 

“What’s that?” she asks in a whisper. 

“This?” He knocks the purple box with his knuckle. “This was from Miss L/N.” He opens the plastic lid to show her the treasure inside, a caramel donut with chocolate shavings. It looks expensive and delicious. “Should we share?” he whispers back. 

“Yes, please.” 

Remus breaks it in half, and Lia breaks her half into half again to share with Kory. He feels eyes on his face and looks up to find you watching him with a soft look, but you promptly flatten it and look down. You pick at your lunch, and choke when someone asks you if you’re alright.

Oh, he thinks, giving Lia’s back a quick rub. Chaperoning really isn’t so bad.

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do - Part 29

WC 2500, Masterpost

A Press of the Button:

An Exclusive Interview with Jason Wayne and Danny Nightingale Following the Infamous New Years Eve Choice

By Clark Kent

“I’m going to throw up.”

I’m sure that I wasn’t supposed to overhear that; it’s not exactly an auspicious start to an interview. Here inside of Wayne Manor’s stately halls the noise of the crowd of press outside of the gate has fallen away and the words from the other side of the door are clear. The voice isn’t one that I recognize, so I place it as the young man at the center of the event: Daniel Nightingale.

“Danny, please, I’ve never liked Daniel,” he’ll introduce himself to me once I’m inside the sitting room. Jason Todd is at his boyfriend’s side, looming like an avenging angel. Or, since we’re in Gotham, a very large bat.

When I was assigned the interview, I hadn’t been sure where it would be held. As readers may know, Jason Todd hasn’t lived at the Manor since his miraculous return from the dead. There were, as he said, too many memories in the Manor for him to return. At the time he had still been struggling to overcome the unfortunate amnesia that he had suffered during his brutal abduction as a teenager.

Whatever trauma is still lingering, it’s clear that both young men are taking comfort being in the manor. The proverbial wagons have been circled inside of the family home. Even cleaned up the sitting room shows signs of a rotation cast of family keeping the pair company: a plethora of blankets, stacked board games, feel-good food, and, of all things, a plush trilobite.

As we take our seats, Danny leans unconsciously into Jason’s space like a flower to the sun. His nerves are clear in the way that his fingers fidget restlessly with the edge of his sleeves. The red sweater is far too large for him and hangs off of one thin shoulder. I have to guess that it’s Jason’s sweater and worn today for comfort. I doubt anyone could blame Danny seeking comfort wherever he can find it.

Less than a week ago Danny was abducted from the Wayne’s New Years Eve party by a Gotham villain known as Two Face. The villain came into being after Harvey Dent, a district attorney in Gotham, was traumatically exposed to a toxic chemical. (More about Two Face can be read in the article ‘A Flip of a Coin’.) Danny had been taken off site while a handful of party goers were strapped to an explosive device.

Presented with the horrifying choice between his boyfriend or his father and youngest brother, Jason had pressed the red button connected to Danny’s trap.

Danny Nightingale had been electrocuted to death.

And survived.

It’s the perfect sort of awful story to capture the attention of the public and press alike, and it’s the reason that I’m at Wayne Manor now.

Hoping to make Danny feel more settled, I start off with some pleasantries before going in with a soft question. How is he doing with all the attention that the event has been getting? It must be overwhelming.

Danny glances towards the front of the house where outside lies the front yard, the protective gate, and the press. “It is. I feel like I’m still getting used to living in a city as big as Gotham, so all of this suddenly… yeah, it’s a lot.”

Danny grew up in a much smaller city in central Illinois called Amity Park. He moved to Gotham in the late summer of last year to continue his education at Gotham University. It’s a change that he describes as good, even as overwhelming as it is.

“Gotham has been surprisingly easy to fall in love with. I can see why Gothamites are so protective of the city,” Danny explains with the first hint of a smile on his face that I’ve seen since I came through the doors.

When I ask him if he hopes to stay in Gotham long term, Danny glances at Jason and blushes faintly. “I’d like to, if I can find work. There’s a lot here worth staying for and the city is just part of that.”

The words cause the first blush I’ve seen on Jason’s cheeks since he was new to the Wayne family and a little overwhelmed himself. Clearly Jason is one of the things worth staying for.

We talk a little about how Danny likes the Wayne family. He admits that he’s still getting to know them. He’d only been introduced to most of the family at the end of last year, right before finals. Already, though, there are stories to be told about board games and good food. Beyond the Waynes, Danny has someone else very important in Gotham.

“Your sister is in town, isn’t she?” I ask. “I imagine having her here during this has been nice.”

“It is. I was actually supposed to go and see her after New Years, but obviously…” Danny clears his throat and Jason takes one of Danny’s hands in his. Danny instantly relaxes into Jason’s side. “But yeah, having her here is really nice.”

“I take it you two are close then?”

“She was my anchor growing up,” Danny says with a little smile that’s tinged with sadness. “I wish she hadn’t had to be. Now that I’m older I know how unfair that was to her, but I’m so lucky that she did. She could so easily resent me for it, but she doesn’t at all. It makes it really easy to love her.”

“Not that it’s hard,” Jason adds with a chuckle. “I think her and Dick have already made an oldest sibling club and Damian thinks both Nightingales hung the moon, I swear.”

“Speaking of Nightingale, that isn’t your original last name, is it?”

It’s been an item of note in the recent write ups on Danny that both of the siblings had changed their last name to Nightingale from their birth name of Fenton. Their parents, doctors both, still go by Fenton. In Gotham, at least, the Doctor Fentons would be described as mad scientists. The so-called ‘ectobiologists’ have made their life a study of ghosts. In Amity Park, ‘the most haunted town in America’, they’re just part of the atmosphere.

Danny sighs and glances away. “No. Jazz and I both changed our last names when we turned eighteen. Jazz had wanted me to change it and go with her when she turned eighteen, but she had this great scholarship for college and she’d taken care of me enough. I couldn’t put that on her too, so I refused to until I was eighteen.”

“So you didn’t actually emancipate yourself?”

“Nope. One day late for that. But I moved out the same day I changed my name.”

“How did your parents take that?”

A wry smile twists Danny’s lips. “They didn’t notice until months later when the lab had gotten too dirty.”

“The lab?”

“It was one of my chores to clean it; another thing that I get was messed up now that I’m older and away from there. We, um, think that it was my exposure to all those chemicals that made me a meta.”

By all accounts, Danny’s meta status is how he survived the electrocution. It’s a label that he looks slightly uncomfortable with.

“It’s not that I mind being a meta,” he’s quick to assure me. “It’s just that… what actually made me one was an accident in the lab. I was electrocuted.” He raises his left arm up. The overly large red sleeve pools down to reveal a branching network of faint silver scars tracing his skin. “It’s hard right now to think back to it, after what happened. I really didn’t know if I would survive… either time. I’m lucky that all I have are scars.”

“But you thought that you might survive.”

“I did,” Danny says with a little shrug. He seems almost at ease with that question, unlike Jason.

Jason has to take a moment to press a kiss to Danny’s temple.

“After the first time I was electrocuted,” Danny explains, “I became a little more resistant to electricity— little shocks and things. It’s not like I ever tested it out with anything big. I guess it was just a feeling I had.”

When I ask Danny if he’s alright to talk about the night of the party he looks stressed by the idea but still gives a little nod. As he points out, it is why I’m there.

“I was getting some fresh air,” Danny explains. He’s picking at the sweater again. “The night was really lovely, but it’s just not the sort of thing I’m used to, you know? So I just wanted a moment to gather myself. I guess… I guess they were already watching me, because they knocked me out before I even really knew they were there.

“I woke up strapped to a metal chair. They’d taken my shoes and socks off. I couldn't understand why, but then,” Danny has to pause here and take a moment. Jason pulls him closer. “Then I noticed that my feet were in water and there was a wire in the water too. The wire wasn’t live but it’s… I mean it wasn’t hard to put it all together.”

“That must have been terrifying.”

“Yeah.” Danny looks over at the windows and the gray winter day beyond them. “I didn’t know who had taken me or why. I could hear some people close, talking about waiting for a signal, but it wasn’t much. When my eyes adjusted I could see a camera on a tripod and a laptop. I didn’t know what was going on, not until it turned on.

“Two Face was on it. I guess you know I’m not a native Gothamite that it took me a moment to recognize him,” Danny said with a weak laugh. “He explained what he was doing.”

I ask Danny what his first thought was when hearing the plan.

“Worry for Jason. Which I know sounds insane, but I guess… I guess I had already accepted the circumstance I was in. I just didn’t want Jason to have to go through that choice.”

“And then Jason was on the screen.”

“Yeah.”

“Jason, what were you feeling at seeing Danny on the television?”

“What do you think?” Jason asks, frustration lacing through his voice. “I was pissed off. I was scared. I was… I hated myself.”

“Why?”

“Because Danny was only in that situation because he was dating a Wayne. Because he was dating me. And there he was, a few seconds from death, bleeding, and… and telling me that he loved me.”

While Danny sounds almost detached talking about it, possibly a coping mechanism, Jason sounds like every wound is still fresh. It paints a terrifying picture of what it’s like to be the one to die versus the one who presses the button.

I turn back to Danny. “You said something to Jason in the video after that. There's been a great deal of debate about your words. Do you feel alright discussing them.”

Danny nods. I read out the quote: You know what you have to do, don’t you?

“Danny, what did you mean?”

“That Jason had to press my button,” Danny says with surprising ease. It’s clear that the order was one that he still stands by.

I ask about that certainty.

Danny gives a little shrug. He tucks himself back further under Jason’s arm, but I'm certain that the move is more for Jason’s comfort. “It was me or a group of other people. That would have been enough. I would never put myself first like that, but then you add in Damian and Bruce being part of that group? I couldn’t ask Jason to choose me over his family and Jason knows I wouldn’t.”

What about the chance of survival?

“Jason and I had talked about my accident before. Death… it’s something we both get, you know? So we both knew that there could be a chance of me surviving, but there was never any guarantee.”

“Are you going on record that you told Jason to press the button, knowing it could kill you?”

“Absolutely.”

And how did that insistence make Jason feel? Right then it seems all Jason can do is curl up around Danny, as if he can shield him from the past.

“Fucking horrible. Danny just looked at the whole situation and made the choice for me. I don’t know, maybe I should think that was freeing, but I still had to press the button.”

I point out that he could have made the other choice and he just shakes his head. “And make Danny live with that? He had made his choice. He didn’t want to trade his life for theirs. I hated it, but what sort of person would I have been if I didn’t let Danny take control of his own life? I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with either choice, so at least… at least I could listen to Danny.”

So Jason had pressed the button, Danny had been electrocuted (he refused to speak on the experience), and Jason had attacked Two Face. The man had ended up with a broken jaw and fractures in the orbital rim. It was while Jason had been sobbing in his father’s arms that they had gotten the word from one of Gotham’s local heroes: Danny was still alive.

“What did I feel? Hope,” Jason said with an almost despairing laugh. “I don’t… hope and I don't do well these days, but I felt hope. I don’t know if I believed it until I was actually holding his hands.”

“I was a little out of it when they got there,” Danny admits, which seems more than fair considering everyone else would have been dead. “But I’m so grateful to Nightwing and the paramedics taking care of me and letting me see Jason before the hospital. I really… I really needed him right then.”

And now?

“I’d like to say that I’m alright, but,” Danny shrugs, “it’s a lot to go through. But I know I’ll be alright. Jason and his family are amazing and I have Jazz here. I’ll keep healing, physically and mentally, and so will Jason. I know the internet has a lot to say about it all, but I think they need to understand that this turned out the best way that it could have.”

Jason kisses Danny’s temple again with a slight smile. He seems to be in agreement with everything his boyfriend said.

“I suppose I have just one more question,” I say after a moment of looking over my notes. “Why do you call Danny ‘fish’?”

I don’t get an answer, but maybe hearing those two able to laugh so soon after such a traumatic event is better than a story.

---

AN: *flops dramatically* darlings, this chapter is finally done! Thank you to @chromatographic and @mokulule for cheer/beta reading for me. This one was really hard to write since it's out of the normal style wise for me, but it felt like the best way to tell the story right there.

I hope you enjoy it!

I no longer tag, you can subscribe at the masterpost!

[sleepyangelkami]

TOUCH STARVED s.harrington

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.5K

STEVE HARRINGTON X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - you were too shy to speak up for what you wanted, even to your boyfriend for something so simple. fortunately for you, he always seem to know exactly what you need.

 ☆ WARNINGS - mention of pussy whipped, reader has hair, light insecurity, (1) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

walking into family video, steve swore he'd never seen such a glum face.

your expression was saddened, not enough to look upset over something but just enough to tell steve what kind of day you'd been having. and believe me, he'd had his fair share of these kind of days.

"you doofus, that's not how you do it." robin argued, as she always was. nothing steve could do for her ever deemed to be the 'right way' however, before he could give back a snappy argument, he snapped his head towards you, the bells of the store giving a quick ring.

robin looked up confused as she received no snarky comeback before glancing towards you. she could have rolled her eyes, how pussy-whipped was this guy? "hey, y/n." she greeted first, watching as steve stepped away from the counter.

"hi, rob." you gave her a sweet, almost shy smile, she returned it in full. robin was very well used to you getting in these little moods, sort of where you shy into yourself. she'd never mentioned it, though, sort of assuming that was just how you were.

"hey, honey." steve was by your side in an instant, snatching up your bag from you so he could hold it. the sight of him had you leaning into him, almost fluttering your eyes shut. a sudden overwhelming feeling of tiredness fell over you. "you okay?"

he was craning his neck to look at you, you merely nodded. "tired." you answered before making your way behind the counter with him.

technically, you shouldn't be behind the counter and if keith were here, he'd surely have something to say about it. but he wasn't.

family video was having one of them slow days that consisted in hardly five customers an hour while steve and robin argued relentlessly on working the stupid computer that had been around way too long for anyone's liking.

you sat on one of the chairs with steve's arm around you. for as long as you could remember, he'd always been like this. touchy.

and truthfully? you were thankful. some days, all you needed was his touch and you didn't even have to ask, merely hold out a hand shyly and it was in yours. but on days like this, even an arm constantly around your shoulder wasn't enough.

your fingers had trailed up to mess with his. his large hand was relatively big in yours, you could lean against his shoulder all the while. in all of this, you could have fallen asleep.

though, that deemed hard with robin and steve's constant arguing. "you idiot!" steve yelled, pushing buttons at the computer and sort of dragging you as he did so. "you're gonna break it!"

"and what if i did?" she argued back. "not like it's worth anything." she would have kicked the computer, had she been right. unfortunately, the computer was worth something, her job.

steve sat himself back on the chair with a scowl before glancing to you.

even the mere sight of you was always enough to calm him down.

"sorry." he mumbled, knowing he was disturbing whatever peace you were getting. you merely waved him off before going back to playing with his fingers.

a couple more customers came in and fled all the same, renting movies that robin and steve would then gossip about as soon as they'd leave the store. oh yeah, horrible movie. i heard the sequels even worse!

it was best for you to leave them do this.

and by seven, it was time to lock up. you stood outside, waiting for steve who was using the key to pull down the store gate.

robin's head came out from underneath, holding her satchel bag. "night guys!" she called after you without turning around. she didn't even have a drivers license so you weren't entirely sure how she was getting home. nonetheless, you'd learned that it was better not to question robin.

"night!" steve called back before turning to you and rolling his eyes. "that girl." he only shook his head and shut his eyes, concealing his obvious irritation towards his best friend.

you only grinned back sheepishly, knowing they despised yet loved one another dearly.

it wasn't until you were sat in the passenger seat of his car, gazing out the window while your hands fiddled with his fingers that sat atop your thigh that he noticed something was wrong. earlier, you'd shrugged it off as mere tiredness and he supposed he believed you.

the night sky was dark and the hot air coming from the car was enough to lull anyone to sleep. yet still, he had a gnawing feeling that you weren't telling him the whole truth.

you weren't a liar, no. steve would say you were many things, never a liar.

however, you had the tendency to hide things from him. not overly important things like seeing someone else or something or other. you just had the tendency to not speak much about your feelings unless directly asked. you'd shy away and sheepishly shrug, not wanting to bother him.

you always had that fear of burdening him.

as the relationship progressed, he noticed this. he too had the fear of burdening. but slowly, you both began to break out of your shells. him undeniably much faster than you.

the stillness of his house told you it was home. the porch lights were on as he led you inside, hand on the small of your back. a couple lights were left on in the house too.

not the large, centre lights.

the warm lamps illuminating the entire house in a cozy aura.

you weren't too sure how you moved from the door to the couch so quickly. nonetheless, you relaxed into the material as the sound of you and steve's show began to play. a new episode every week. it was a ritual in the harrington house. and by that, i mean just you and him.

steve didn't miss the glances you kept shooting him. whether intentional or not, he could see from the corner of his eye, your head move to look at him and suddenly look back at the screen before he could catch you.

when he did, though, he caught exactly what he needed.

you were looking at him all doey, presumably tired however there was something else in your eye, something that gave you completely away.

a longing.

suddenly, everything clicked.

there was a reason you'd been leaning into him so much today, following him around silently like a lost puppy dog. not that he minded, no, he never minded. but he knew something had been wrong and that you didn't think you had voice enough to speak on it.

"what's wrong with you, huh?" he nudged you, voice ever so gentle. though he knew what you wanted, he sort of wanted you to tell him. "been quiet all day."

you leaned your head against the back of the couch, eyes travelling over his pretty features. and he looked especially pretty in the dim lighting of the enormous living room. "'m always quiet." you countered.

in a way, you were far from wrong. more often than not, steve would have to beg you to speak to more people, try get out there because he knew you wanted to. once again, you feared your voice was much too small. "fair point. but you're more quieter today."

you pursed your lips at him. "just quieter." he hummed in confusion. "it's just 'quieter', more quieter isn't the right grammer."

a roll of his eyes was paired with a pretty grin. "see? there's my smart girl. where was she all day, hm? head cloudy?"

truthfully, you didn't know what was wrong. everything just felt so off, all day you'd wanted to be surrounded by him. his embrace, his words, his scent, his everything. and that was becoming a little too much when the cruel world reminded you that it was, in fact, impossible to morph into another human being by hugging them hard enough. "i don' know." you shrugged, voice sort of small.

but steve had been in the game much longer than you.

it started with the simple feeling of his fingers tracing against your cheeks, grasping a strand of hair and curling it between his index finger. he always thought you looked pretty with your hair framing your face. though you were undeniably beautiful in all aspects.

"there something you want?" he didn't ask it in an accusing way that made you sheepishly look away. he spoke ever so quietly, as if careful of disturbing the peace of his rarely quiet house.

once again, you shrugged.

"sweetheart." he gave you this look. this convincing, knowing, look. steve always had a way of communicating to you, even just through his eyes. it was enough for your heart to quench.

he looked as though he knew exactly what had been troubling you, like he knew exactly how to fix it.

how is it that steve harrington seemingly knew everything in the world? sometimes, even he made you feel a little silly. i mean, he was more tuned in with your emotions than you were.

the show that was playing on the tv was low, barely heard as his eyes searched your own. "you know you can ask for anything, yeah?" you nodded your head while chewing your bottom lip. because you did know. steve always made it easy for you to come to him with anything. yet even then, your own shy nature still prevented you from saying all the words that sat against the tip of your tongue. the universe tended to be cruel like that. "c'mere, honey."

his outstretched arms looked like the heaven you'd been searching for.

without second thought, you found yourself climbing into them, breathing out a sigh of relief as your cheek sat itself against his sweater-covered chest.

this is what you wanted.

his legs were outstretched, somewhere for you to sit against while your own wrapped themselves against his torso. there was something so comforting about the feeling of him against you.

he let you relax your face against him, lips shut tight as one of your hands came beneath your chin. while watching the animations flash across the television, you could feel his own arms slinging loosely around your waist, one hand gently playing with the strands of hair while the other traced against your back.

you supposed you weren't morphed into him but this was as good as it was going to get.

perhaps, this was all you needed.

he was gentle, soft and welcoming.

everything you'd been hoping for.

"this all you needed, hm?" the shapes he drew against your back began to feel a lot like words, a lot like 'i love you'. you nodded, humming ever so softly. "should've just asked, baby."

"i didn't wanna bother you." you mumbled, suddenly feeling like the whole thing had been just a little silly.

you felt his hand against your chin, gently tilting it upwards so you could meet his eye. "you never bother me." and you could tell by the chocolatey swirl in his eyes. he wasn't lying.

perhaps two hours passed since that very moment. steve watched the show episode until it ended, flicking on the television programme that was simply on. he could feel your soft breaths against the nape of his neck, hands outstretched towards him.

you'd fallen asleep in his embrace.

he often told you not to watch the show so late if you would fall asleep albeit you always insisted that you wouldn't. low and behold, he was right. he was always right.

and when the final programme ended, and he deemed it was late enough, he decided it was time to get you into bed.

instead of waking you, he opted to pick you up, carrying you upstairs and surely almost dropping you a total of three times because he couldn't register where he was putting his feet. yet eventually, he made it towards the bedroom and placed you against the bed. the warm blankets soon were draped over your body.

and after all the rustling, the thing that stirred you was the creek of the door.

he watched as your eyes parted, obviously still slick with sleep, and cursed himself. he thought, who, as rich as him, would own a door that creeks so loudly? and made a mental note to get new hinges.

"you okay, angel?" he mumbled into the darkness of the room, slipping off his jeans and slipping into bed with you.

"mm." you hummed as he grasped your body again, holding you close. your arms hugged themselves around his neck, shutting your eyes closed. "wanna melt into you." you mumbled, obviously too tired to register what you were saying.

"yeah?" a chuckle fell from his lips, knowing you would never have the confidence to say such a thing while wide awake. nonetheless, he took it as a compliment anyway. "we should try turkey then."

"what's in turkey?" you questioned tiredly.

"i don't know. everything? i mean, if they can give you a new set of teeth, surely they have the answer to your problems too. we can like, melt ourselves together." he was talking nonesence, though it was lulling you back to sleep anyway.

the sound of your sleepy giggle had him holding his breath, wondering if this was all real. "let's go to turkey then."

"i'll put it on our bucket list, angel." you nodded your head, without response. "you goin' to sleep on me? hm?"

"can you..." you cut yourself off with a breath. then, you reminded yourself that it was steve harrington, the boy you loved more than yourself. and you could ask him anything. "can you keep talking?"

"careful what you wish for, i might not shut up." you only giggled gently before allowing him to continue. "did i ever tell you about dustin's girlfriend?" you shook your head. "oh god, you should have seen it..."

this, you were sure, is where you could actually die happy.

main masterlist/steve's masterlist

[tiyoin]

I ate your heart

warnings: graphic description of: violence, SA, gore, mentions of cannibalism, murder, reader almost gets graped, alcoholism*, manipulation, ‘victim blaming,’ unhealthy coping mechanisms, dark content - alastor and readers relationship is up for interpretation

dawg imagine you get killed by yan human alastor.🫣

like you’re thinking that you’ll finally be safe in the afterlife, hoping that you got a spot in heaven. (yet apparently, premarital sex would automatically remove your spot in line for a chance at salvation)

blasphemy does those kinda things🤷🏻

doesn’t matter if you lived as a nun. helping sinners see the light and righteousness of god. doesn’t matter if you fed por hand your entire life. or even if you solved the trolly problem.

one toe out of line, and your ass is grass.

so you’re in hell. if you knew you’d be going to hell you would’ve done a lot worse things in your human life for more power.

imagine living on the low, yeah you’ve killed people, maybe even took a soul or two. but it’s nothing to brag about, especially compared to the over lords.

—

very important note at the end.

1-800-662-4357 - addiction hotline.

-

by pressing ‘read more’ you have consented to reading this.

just a few years into your stay they started going missing. one, by one.

there was a whisper in the wind, a chill in the air as everyone had this impending sense of dread as a new over lord would be found almost daily. ripped to shreds, horribly mutilated, with missing limbs and ginormous bite marks that would open the food gates for intestines to spill out and pool around them.

sometimes there were no intestines at all.

or a body.

yet there was always a new broadcast

it wasn’t an exaggeration that everyone has been looking over their shoulders whenever the shadows looked a bit longer than usual. when the air starting churning and crackling. when the sudden sound of screaming ripped through the air. it was a natural hell-born reflex to flinch at the slightest noise of static.

a conditioning technique his radio broadcasts seemed to involuntarily instill on sinners.

you’ve never seen this so called ‘radio demon’ in person before. well, barely have been able to escape him and tell the tale so you weren’t sure what to look for.

or look out for. all you knew is that his name was alastor. and that whenever you heard that name you blood ran cold and your body stiffened.

tour mind would ring and your head would pound as you try to remember just where you’ve heard that name before.

yet your memory always failed you.

but alcohol never did.

seated at a bar as noisy club music blasted, you trace your finger longingly on the rim of your shot glass. eyes already drooping as your wrist which was keeping your head propped up started to ache.

you wouldn’t call yourself an alcoholic per say. more of a,,, continuous connoisseur. which was surprising due to the  hellish prices on everything here.

it’s not eternal damnation unless there’s a 5% sales tax plus gruitivity.

so instead of working your ass off to make a living, you’ve decided: ‘hey, it’s hell! i can do whatever i want (to an extent) and so i choose to scam men!!’

with every new bar came a new rotation of men looking to take up the empty seat next to you. you puffed your chest as you recalled a few women and non conforming folks take the seat sometimes.

you always made sure to… entertain them.

feeling a familiar pit in your stomach, you pause your hand. the coldness of the shot glass cooling your hot lips as the animal man next to you howls with laughter. the alcohol hitting his system like a firecracker.

and like clock work, his hand slipped around your waist, as he whispered filthy nothings you didn’t bother to catch, having heard it all before. even the sweet begging to take out to one of the many sex rooms the club has.

yet he dragged you towards the exit.

and you allowed him.

you thought it comically ironic that you were doing just the thing that punched your ticket down here.

the bitter cold nipped at your skin and tickled your brain. you were always so confused with the temperature of hell. freezing at night, scorching during the day.

even he’ll hated the homeless. who knew 🤷🏻

in the alley next to the club the animal man was biting and clawing at you. panting and speaking gibberish as his clumsy movements seemed to cause a new line of blood on your skin. you couldn’t do much to stop it.

limbs and eyes heavy as you tried focusing on him, on his wandering hands, his filthy mouth.

you wanted to go home.

he favored ignoring your sluggish mumbling and groans to comment about ‘wanting to fuck you nice and hard, giving you a few kits to remember him by.’

your clothes were practically in shreds. the chill in the air adding a faux impression of clarity as your arms started to weakly bang against him.

you didn’t even think he noticed as your fists wouldn’t even make it to his chest. you were so weak right now.

the only reason you weren’t crumpled on the ground as because he were pinning your entire body to the wall.

yet the inconsistent grip he had on you caused you to ping pong a bit.

“s stowp” you slurred, head lolling down as you felt his claws stop momentarily. he let out a cackle that rang through your eyes and rattled your brian stem.

fuck. you hissed. this is gonna one shit of a hang over

the drunk broke your thoughts as he continued his drunken rambles.

“the moment you took the sshhhot” spit flew in your face “i paid for… you were mine” he pushed his face in your neck, the hotness of his breathe sending distressed shivers down your body. urging your body to WAKE UP

yet he kept you pinned. you head looked to the side when tears started streaming down your face and with a big, slimy lick he greedily lapped them up.

you started struggling once his claws moved to your legs.

fuck fuck fuck you fucked up. you fucked up. why did you think this was a good idea, you knew something bad was going to happen. why didn’t you just listen to your gut. why didn’t you just take his watch and turn to the next man. why did you entertain him.

why did you let him buy you that drink.

“angel shot” had different meanings for the orderer.

if a woman ordered it, then security would either beat the shit or kill the demon she pointed out. (whether the staff respected women or just wanted an excuse to get blood on their hands, was a topic you often avoided thinking about)

but, if a man orders it… he wants to take a woman to the heavenly gates of sovereignty himself.

that last part is often open to interpretation.

nothing ever got done about these drinks. you were in hell after all. you think the politicians would ban something they invited?

the sting of his drool on an open, bloody bite mark on your collarbone ripped you from the sanctuary of your minds palace as his glowing yellow pierced into yours.

in an instant you felt nails digging into the flesh of your bruised and battered neck. blood dripped from your neck and onto your body as he squeezed harder.

black spots danced across your vision, followed by white, then purple, then red.

“help” you choked out, head lolling to the alley way as people walked by, not even phased. it was just an average day in hell after all.

the arm that wasn’t trying to put distance between you and him was heavily reaching out towards the street. hoping anyone, anything would come save you from your fuck up.

“get ready to meet god, bitch” he growled, hands-

there was a squelching noise as his breathe stilled. you dropped to the ground, hard. as he let go of you. his clawed hands fell limp to his sides. his face was blank as he staggered back.

“w-what” he stuttered, arms shakily moving to his stomach- well, what used to be his stomach- as a black tendril was impaling him.

you couldn’t move, couldn’t even stand or lift your eyes to see the scene before you. your heart beat was slow, yet thunderous in your ears. it’s thump almost made you miss the pleading, miss the screams of absolute anguish as the sound of flesh tearing and static and laughter filled the air. miss the way his head rolled in your direction before a dark, clawed hand reached from the hands and snatched it back.

it felt like hours before someone came up to you. but realistically, it was only a few seconds before you felt something hard and metal touch your head. only for the oddly shaped stick to wrap around your hair and yank your head up.

you groaned at the pain, eyes droopy as you struggled to stay conscious. you wouldn’t have been able to fight even if you wanted to.

paralyzing fear that washed over you like a tsunami, RUN. a voice spoke. yet you couldn’t even breath automatically. that job becoming harder and harder with each passing second. you couldn’t forget about the possibility of broken bones after… your viscous assault.

so you had no choice but to stay pliant to the new player in the game. 

“well well well” your eyes snapped up, your eyes met the abyss as a ferocious, crazed grin greeted you.

“it seems you carried over that habit of keeping… bad company he mused. although there was a hint of amusement in his radio voice, you knew there was nothing to laugh about.

he sighed before picking up the demons decapitated head by his hair. pushing it toward your face you were forced to smell him.

he pulled his staff- you- closer to the head, your upper body twisted uncomfortably as you were almost nose to nose with you.

a whine left your throat as alastor face came into your peripheral vision.

“what’s wrong? i thought you two were in the middle of something! but all means continue, i would hate to intrude”

he wasn’t talking about tonight. you knew that.

you felt your consciousness slip for a moment, only for a moment as a sharp sting penetrate your skull.

in a moments time the head was gone, but it was replaced by a dreaded sense of dejavú.

your brows widened as the face of pure, unadulterated fear contorted onto your face.

his grin only seemed to widen as his eyes crinkled harder.

“it seems someone remembers something. tell me miss y/n” he leaned closer, some kind of indigenous symbols started to crackle and float around him.

“tell me what you remember” he sneered, radio voice growling as his horn stretched out longer than before.

your mouth was dry, yet your tears were bountiful as your body’s natural reactions took over.

you were petrified. alastor knew this as you inhaled the intoxicating scent of terror that cling to you like perfume as you struggled to speak.

he hummed in what sounded like disappointment. but you were never sure what he was feeling as that damned smile was always glued on his face. even now.

he stepped away as he dropped your head, luckily your arms were positioned as the perfect pillow for your head to fall onto.

“since that cat has clearly stolen your tongue” he mused, briefly looking to the furry body he just… exterminated. he got bigger. horns growing even linger from his head, like branches from a tree, his already deformed limbs cracked and snapped like twigs as they went in all they grew longer, and larger in thr wrong directions.

you hadn’t thought it possible, but his smile grew larger, sharper as more teeth were revealed. pointy, yellow stained teeth with chunks of flesh and fur still in them smiled at you.

you were scared.

scared for you life-

your soul.

you wanted an escape.

giving up on physical escape meant the only place safe was your mind. yet even there he still resides.

yet his limbs weren’t twisted and broken, his voice wasn’t shrouded in statics and his hair most certainly wasn’t red.

you gasped.

alastor.

his face deepened.

“so you’ve remembered…”

you were shaking, visibly shaking as you saw two of him.

one with full teeth and brown eyes and hair… the other…

monstrous, nightmarish. hell-ish

why’d you think you could escape him, why’d you think you’d get mercy in your afterlife, when you didn’t revive any in your past life.

you didn’t wanna die by the same man twice.

alastor, who could practically read your mind inched his face down further

“don’t worry little one, i do not plan on making the same mistake twice.” like a flicker of a candle his demonic form turned into his human form. though you must have imagined or hallucinated it. as the thing was still there.

yet with each passing moment his horns subdued into his head. his grin downgraded into a smile as the symbols slinked out of existence one by one.

“i was quite… emotional back then.” he pet your hair, instantly stopping your shaking. he pretended it wasn’t because you were scared stiff.

“i didn’t know how to react when i heard you had a midnight rendezvous with the librarians son. it broken my heart” he sniffles, eyes slowly turning back into red slits.

“it saddened me, woed me to do what i had to do.” he sighed. you felt a punch to your gut as his personality did a compete 180.

“i never wanted to… yet you left me in a tricky situation” he shook his head sadly, palm against his cheek to empathize his sadness.

“but!” he said, a smile on his face as he pointed up. “i know it wasn’t your fault, that boy had been ogling you far too long so i did the only thing i thought that was fitting.”

his free hand opened his palm, showing you a faux image of smoke and mirrors, a woman and a man.

they looked around before they noticed each other. you could tell what their relationship was by how they ran to each other.

before they could reach each other, he crumpled his fist, nails digging into his glove as his slits narrowed.

“i ate you heart”

—

1-800-662-4357 - addiction hotline.

*as the author I feel obligated to write this : reader is an alcoholic but they can’t see that they are. due to having friends struggle with this i’m telling you guys straight out. that reader is addicted to alch so that part isn't up to interpretation. it’s very serious and very isolating, please think about your friends and families before you go down this path. voluntarily or involuntarily. addiction isn’t fun or even remotely ‘cool.’ the more serious talks we have about addiction instead of crossing it out as 'something only dirty people do' and start seeing it for the monster it truly is; is the day we will get as a society. although i didn’t struggle with alcohol addiction, i was victim to another kind that plagues me to this day, so please take my advice and make smart choices.

this also extends to self destructive behaviors, like what reader is doing

personally, i think alastor is some kind of ace / demiromantic

out of all the things I was gonna write to come back, I never would've thought it was gonna be a hazbin hotel imagine. let alone an alastor x reader one.

[ryescapades]

genre/warning: hoshina soshiro x gn platoon leader dazai!reader (can be both platonic or romantic), fluff

a/n: had a sudden burst of idea so here ya go :) can also be in the same universe as narumi’s version if you want it to be. up to yall!

narumi | extra

"oh, you're in charge this time too?"

tucking a pistol into the holster on your hips, you turn around at the sound of hoshina's voice, a teasing smile on your face. "you don't sound happy about that at all, vice-captain." you snicker.

your superior rolls his eyes lightheartedly. "last time you were assigned to this, one of the newbies almost blew up her drone," he points out, making you shrug. "not my fault they believed what i said about the kaiju hacking and taking control of our drones,"

"you shouldn't be giving out false information in the first place, platoon leader," he chides, and you give him a mock salute. “aye aye, sir. i promise i will only give away accurate information from now on,”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

the grating sound of the massive gates sliding open fills the atmosphere, the new group of recruits waiting on standby as the kaiju beyond the gates prowl around.

"alright, the monthly evaluation will proceed as usual. neutralize kaiju, assist in whatever way ya can and we'll see how much your combat power has risen up since last time." hoshina says, looking over the recruits as you and another platoon leader from your division stand beside him.

with the ten minutes given as preparation, your eyes glint in a way that has hoshina suspiciously eyeing you as you approach one of the officers.

"how's the prodigy doing?" you greet, causing ichikawa to startle before he turns to you with a quick salute, a faint blush blooming on his cheeks at the nickname. "platoon leader y/n! i'm doing fine. i'm hoping my power release will improve today, since i've been working well with these freezing rounds," he beams.

"that's right! and i'll be right there with ya, reno! my combat power will definitely increase as much as yours, if not more!" furuhashi suddenly appears, slinging an arm around ichikawa’s shoulders with a wide grin. you smile as you watch them interact, before an idea comes to your mind.

"you guys remember the small armory hidden somewhere in the field, right? you see, extra points will be given if you manage to find it and use any of the big guns during the evaluation," you muse, a hand cupping the side of your mouth to not let the others around you listening in.

seemingly engrossed with the ‘hints', the two boys nodded eagerly. "so more points if we use the super secret weapons, huh?" furuhashi cheers excitedly as ichikawa puts a hand under his chin, thinking hard. "but the field is so big though, can we really find it while fighting kaiju at the same time?"

"sure can! you'll know when you see it. just run around near the garage area and it might be there right in front of you guys," you add, sounding all the more convincing. funnily enough, they start discussing several plans on how to quickly find the armory. "yeah, that's right. write it down, write it down." you insist, pleased that they don't notice your mischievous tone as you start to walk away, leaving them to their own devices.

"you'll immediately get zero mark if ya even so much as touch any of the weapons. those are only for your superiors to use,"

furuhashi and ichikawa yelp in surprise before they finally realize what their vice-captain had said. "wait, what?!" the former exclaims. the two of them swivel their heads towards you, looking betrayed at the expression you threw at them from afar; a tongue sticking out, a wink and two peace signs with a faint giggle of "teehee," coming out of your mouth.

"currently, the weapons in the armory are not fully loaded and it's our job— not the recruits'— to make sure they're always ready to be used in case of an emergency. your platoon leader over there," hoshina retorts, nodding his head towards your direction. "they knew fully well yall newbies won't ever find the armory given how hidden it is. although if ya actually do manage to find it and use the guns, it's not like they're going to fail ya. they're in charge of the marking systems this time," he explains.

"then why did they even mention about the armory in the first place?" reno questions, confusion taking over his face. "well, y/n is also in charge of loadin’ up the armory, unfortunately. you guys probably seemed like the perfect victims for them to use in bringin’ those weapons back to base for said maintenance," hoshina further clarifies, shaking his head exasperatedly at the thought of you slacking off at work.

well, technically you did convey the correct info… but still.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

you’re taken out of your reverie when there’s a light bonk on your head.

“stop loafin’ around on the job, y/n,”

rubbing on the spot hoshina had hit, you frown a little. “i’m not loafing around. it’s called taking a rest, vice-captain. something you’d hardly understand,” you mutter, tossing over on the couch in captain ashiro’s office.

the swordsman sighs almost fondly before placing a stack of papers in front of ashiro who has been working hard as ever. “reports for this month’s evaluation.”

“thanks, hoshina.”

“anytime, captain,”

ashiro glances at you from her seat behind the desk. “speaking of reports, i remember you saying you’re working on a new kaiju case, y/n?” she inquires with a perfectly raised brow, spinning the pen in her fingers mindlessly.

at that, your eyes dart over to the coffee table in front of you where a few papers were laid out, paragraphs of dark ink fully covering the surfaces. you’re about to grumble something again when a new voice catches your attention.

“this is all we’ve managed to find about the recent cases, captain ashiro.”

your head perks up, already sitting up as you turn towards the person just behind the couch you’re laying on. “ichikawa-kun! you’re a godsent, you know that? do you wanna write these reports for me?” you implore, eyes shining so brightly that there could’ve been sparkles floating around you with how extremely hopeful you look.

the mentioned officer blinks in surprise, not expecting you to suddenly make such a request. “e-excuse me?” he stammers awkwardly.

“stop makin’ the recruits do your work. it’s unethical. now scoot over,” you pout at hoshina’s scolding tone before doing what he instructed, making space for him to sit on the couch as well.

he pats his (sturdy and thick) thighs, and you happily plants your head on his lap as he reaches over to take your case papers, marvelling at how detailed and thorough your notes are. not a second after, the two of you immediately dive in to discuss about the facts and theories your brilliant mind had thought of.

ichikawa stares at your and hoshina’s interaction with a bewildered expression, sending a questioning look to his captain, which she only shrugs at.

“let them be. they’re in their own world right now,” she says with a small smile.

kind of gave up thinking how to end this so i just let it be at that lol

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[fanficimagery]

Girl in the Painting

After taking a closer look at Xavier's paintings, Wednesday realizes he wasn't having dreams of her at all. But she does know the girl in the paintings and she's decided that this one good deed shouldn't kill her.

Words: 6.6K Author's Note: Wednesday AU. I'm well aware Xavier never had dreams of Wednesday; he just painted her because he'd seen her and "instantly fell in love". For this, however, I'm saying he's dreamt of her, possibly even before she showed up to Nevermore, and she realizes later on she was never actually the center of his dreams. Also, TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of past attempted sexual assault. It's brief.

As the students of Nevermore are packing up and readying themselves for their trips home, a group of girls are sitting around the charred fountain in the courtyard.

"So what are your plans for summer?" Bianca asks, fingers skimming the water. The dark skinned siren smiles when Enid blushes prettily, her gaze immediately darting to the ever stoic Wednesday. She's been wondering, as of late, if Enid's feelings towards Wednesday were leaning towards romantic rather than platonic.

"Going to Wednesday's home," Enid finally says. "Gonna spend a couple of weeks with the Addams' family."

"Yeah? I didn't think our resident living dead girl was into slumber parties."

"It's going to be a blast," Wednesday deadpans. Yoko chuckles, sipping on whatever concoction she's mixed up that satiates her bloodlust. "You two are more than welcome. Apparently the more, the merrier."

"Sorry," Yoko muses, "but the coven's gonna travel all summer. I'm quite looking forward to it."

"Mmm. And as much as I'm loving the new attitude, I got some things to take care of before we come back to Nevermore," Bianca says, her silver eyes glowing just the faintest. She really couldn't wait until she finished this favor for her mother and her new creep of a husband. "Besides, I can't be seen painting the nails of the girl responsible for my break-up with Xavier so soon. I at least gotta make it seem like I've made you sweat."

Wednesday just blinks at Bianca's reasoning, but Enid frowns. "Wait, what? I thought you broke up because Xavier was being his emo artistic self?"

Yoko grins around the straw of her drink. "She wishes."

"I actually found a sketch of Wednesday in his journal before I even knew who Wednesday was," Bianca confesses. "Here. Look." She takes her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through her pictures. "I snapped a pic to see what I could find out online, but shockingly nothing was solved until Wednesday showed up here."

"I find social media to be a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation."

"Yep. Sounds like you," Bianca says. "Look. See? He drew this before you even stepped foot behind Nevermore's gates."

Wednesday takes the phone and Enid leans closer to take a look. Both girls scrutinize the sketch, both equally baffled to see who everyone has assumed was Wednesday herself smiling. But just as Wednesday is about to hand the phone back, something catches her eye and she brings the phone closer to her face to scrutinize it.

"I can see why you thought this was me," Wednesday says, "but I assure you, it is not me who's apparently caught Xavier's fancy."

"No?" Bianca huffs. "Sure as hell looks like you."

Yoko nods. "Could have fooled me."

"I thought it was me as well, but this sketch proves me wrong. Look here." Wednesday zooms in on the picture, focusing on the right eyebrow. "You see that scar? I don't have it."

Bianca stares before rolling her eyes and reclaiming her phone. "So Xavier gives you a flaw and you immediately don't think it's you?"

"It is not a flaw. It's a sign of strength." Bianca, and the ever-smiling Enid and Yoko frown at the tone Wednesday has now taken on and the steely glint in her eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"A couple of years ago, me and my siblings decided to walk into town after a tiring day at school. A group of older teenage boys cornered us down an alley, and they held me and Pugsley back while making us watch as they tore at the clothes on my sister's back. They mocked her tears and promised that whatever they did to her, no one would believe her since even our sheriff hated outcasts like us. They wanted to break her because we were different. But in a bout of bravery that I will forever be proud of her for, she took the small blade our uncle Fester gifted her and stabbed one of her attackers. In return, they hit her in the face with half a brick and fled with their friend."

"Shit." Bianca blinks in surprise. "Is your sister okay?"

"She's fine. They only left her with a scar and a fear of normies. She used to have the social personality that Enid possesses, but now she haunts the halls of our home rather than leaving it. I tried to get her to attend Nevermore, but even I failed in doing so. Xavier's sketch though, it shows her smiling. That tells me she will be okay."

"So… Xavier only thinks he's infatuated with you?" Yoko wonders.

"It appears so. But if I can manage to get him to my home, maybe he'll see for himself it wasn't me he was having dreams of."

Bianca huffs a laugh. "Sounds fun. Now I'm really glad I can't make it to your slumber party. The breakup is still too fresh to see him fawning over someone else. Maybe the time away will do me some good."

"This sounds like my kind of drama." Yoko sighs wistfully. "Too bad I'll have to miss it."

"Yes, well, Xavier did gift me this phone." Wednesday pulls out a sleek iPhone. "Perhaps if I had your number, I could text you updates. Or death threats."

"Done and done. Gimme." Yoko happily takes Wednesday's phone, typing her information into it. Then taking a selfie, she hands the phone to Bianca who does the same, but makes sure Wednesday understands that she doesn't want any updates.

"We're going to have so much fun!" Enid happily bounces in place, accepting Wednesday's phone to type in her own information. "I can't wait to meet your family."

At 001 Cemetery Lane, a gothic looking manor stands tall and proud behind a sentient gate.

With your fingers running through the dust along the wall, you quietly walk down the hallway as your sister's friend can be heard babbling on and on. Enid Sinclair had shown up only a couple of days ago, her bubbly personality breathing life into your usually dark home. You'd have kept your distance had you not learned she was from Nevermore, but upon learning she was a werewolf, you found yourself leaving your room while there was a guest in your home.

Halfway down the staircase, the doorbell ominously tolls and Lurch appears from the next room over to answer it. You freeze, wondering who would dare walk up to your house.

Lurch opens the door and your breathing ceases for a moment at the sight of a teenage boy standing there. He's around six feet tall, give or take a couple of inches, and he sheepishly runs a hand through his chin length hair.

"Hey, uh, is Wednesday home?" He's staring up at Lurch who's towering over him, nervously tugging at the sleeves of his coat which seem to be torn on one arm. Lurch turns and looks up at you, and you startle when the boy's gaze lands on you. His brow furrows before he smiles. "Hi. I, uh, I think your gate tried to eat me."

Your lips faintly twitch and your heart rate starts to slow. If he knows Wednesday and isn't freaking out too much about Gate, there's a good chance he's from Nevermore as well. "He's temperamental. You need to be quick to avoid his swing." Then without waiting for a response, you turn around and call out, "Wednesday! There's a boy at the door for you."

A small weight lands on your shoulder and you grin at the sight of Thing. He trembles excitedly, tapping and pointing and making gestures as you giggle at his enthusiasm.

"Oh, hey Thing! Long time no see." When you glance back at the door, the boy is now inside your home with the door shut behind him and Lurch nowhere to be found. Thing scrambles off your shoulder and rushes towards the boy, and it's not until the boy squats down to fist bump Thing that you catch yourself admiring how cute the boy is. Immediately you shut that thought down and wipe any form of amusement from your expression. Then when the boy glances back at you, he stands tall and smiles yet again. "I'm Xavier Thorpe," he then introduces himself.

"YN," you deadpan. You hear Wednesday's nearly silent footfalls behind you and nod at him before you take a step back up the staircase. "Enjoy your stay here. Don't touch Mother's plants. They bite."

As you turn around, you're unsurprised to find Wednesday looking right at you. Her eyebrow twitches, your eyes narrow, and you clasp your hands behind your back before marching back up the stairs.

At the top of the staircase, Enid is practically beaming at you. "He's cute. Right?"

"Ask my sister. He's her guest."

"What? They're not-"

But you pay her no mind and trace your steps back to your room.

At the bottom of the staircase, Xavier watches as Wednesday's sister disappears. "How long have you known?" He asks.

"That it was my sister you've been having dreams of and not me?" He gives her a deadpan stare and Wednesday nearly smiles. "Only since our last day at Nevermore. Bianca showed me the first picture you ever drew and the scar in her eyebrow tipped me off. You're welcome."

Enid skips down the stairs, sighing as she approaches her friends. "Well you're going to have your work cut out for you, Xavier. She thinks you're here for Wednesday."

"Technically, I am." He shrugs.

"And now you're here for her," Wednesday says. "Protect her heart. You so much as bruise it and I'll dissect yours."

Xavier blinks in shock and Enid giggles, skipping to his side and hooking her arm with his. "Let the wooing begin."

Over the past couple of days, you keep your distance from Wednesday's friends. You've heard them around the house, sure, but only managed to really be in the same room as them when you all had dinner as a family. You always sat between Wednesday and Pugsley, across from Enid and Xavier, but your eyes never strayed too far from your plate.

One morning, you have the urge to visit what used to be your favorite part of the manor.

The sunroom towards the back of the manor used to be your space- filled with vibrant flowers, plants, and vines and even a small fountain in the corner. But ever since the incident, you've tried to find solace in the one place you loved, only to have everything you touch wilt right before your very eyes. And now- now the sunroom is filled with black and gray and brown plants.

Finding what used to be a rose, your mother's favorite flower, you pick it up and gently cradle it in the palms of your hands. One of its petals crumbles beneath the pad of your thumb and it takes everything in you to not cry.

"I was wondering where you've been sneaking off to." The voice startles you and you turn to see Xavier standing under the archway of the entrance. His hair is pulled back into a small knot at the back of his head, a few strands left loose, and you quickly squash down the thought that he looks really cute like this. "Sorry," he then apologizes. "I thought you would have heard my footsteps."

"...no worries."

You turn back around, gently laying the dead flower back down. Exhaling softly, you then move towards the door leading outside, unsurprised when you hear footsteps following you. "So this place is… awesome."

You huff a laugh, stopping just inside the door and only peering outside towards the family cemetery. "Believe it or not, it wasn't always like this. I used to be able to breathe life into this room."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Now everything I touch seems to die."

"Oh I wouldn't say that."

"Really? Take a look around, Mr. Thorpe. I did this." Xavier takes a look around, frowning and trying to understand you. Exhaling softly again, you paste on a friendly grin and turn to face him. "If you're looking for my sister, she and Enid have Uncle Fester in the electric chair up in the attic."

He barks out a surprised laugh. "What?"

"He loves it." You shrug. Then as you're walking away, you say, "Fair warning; if Uncle Fester tells you to pull his finger, don't."

"Why? Because his farts are killer?"

"No. Because he'll electrocute you."

You leave Xavier chuckling in your wake, finding it a little easier to be in your sister's friends presence.

Then two days later, it's your turn to find Xavier in the sunroom. His hair is back in the little knot that you couldn't stop staring at, dressed in paint splattered clothes as he stands in front of an easel.

When he catches sight of you, he offers you a smile before he focuses on his canvas once more. You continue walking closer and when he doesn't say anything, you walk around to see what he was inspired to paint. Surprisingly, it's a black and white portrait of your sister sitting behind her cello mid-stroke.

"Oh wow," you breathe in awe. "Xavier, this is amazing."

"You think so?"

When you chance a glance at him and notice the faint pink surrounding his cheek bones, you smile genuinely at him. "Of course. You're really talented."

"Glad you think so." Xavier steps back, looking at his work as he stands side by side with you. "Wednesday, uh, she played the cello one night and it was amazing. No one thought her capable of it."

"Why? Because she's death incarnate?"

Xavier chuckles, bashfully averting his gaze. "Something like that." Then looking at the painting once more, he says, "Your mother saw one of my pieces at Nevermore and asked if I could recreate it so she could hang it here."

You nod in understanding, unable to tear your eyes away from the way Xavier has captured your sister. Then right before your eyes, the painting slowly comes to life- Wednesday's bangs blowing in the wind, one hand pushing and drawing the bow across the cello strings as the other holds down certain strings in a muted song.

You quietly gasp, eyes widening in surprise. You watch in awe before turning towards your companion, only to find him holding his hand out towards the painting with his eyes closed. "Oh." You utter in realization. "You're gifted and then you're literally gifted."

Xavier's eyes open and he nods, eyes sparkling. "I have the gift of animation."

"Marvelous."

You continue staring at the painting, finding the foundation of your walls quaking and feeling a bit more comfortable in the presence of the boy who has decided to share his power with you.

You're so used to sitting between your siblings at dinner that you're thrown for a loop when you find Enid in your usual place. Your eyes narrow suspiciously, but Enid and Pugsley merely smile while Wednesday arches an eyebrow at you.

Xavier fidgets nervously in his chair, smiling sheepishly at you. "Come on. I don't bite," he muses as he gestures to the empty seat.

Against your will, you blush.

"Pity," Wednesday drawls. "I think my sister would have quite liked that."

"Wednesday!" Your mortification makes Enid giggle. You nervously take your seat before your father takes your mother's hand, pressing kisses to the back of her hand and all the way up her arm where he then proceeds to mockingly bite her. "Oh my god. You're all so embarrassing."

"They're cute." Enid beams at your parents' affectionate behavior.

"Someone drown me," you mumble.

"Only after dinner," your mother says.

Xavier snorts and you briefly flash him a grin before fiddling with your utensils.

Lurch brings the food out, everyone having a pasta dish with the exception of Enid who'd been brought out a medium-rare steak. You quietly dig in, gaze darting from person to person as the conversation flows around you.

Eventually, when the dessert is brought out, Enid addresses the younger crowd.

"So the cinema is playing a werewolf movie and I really want to go see it and make fun of it. Is anyone else interested in going?"

"Sure." Xavier shrugs. "Sounds fun."

Wednesday sighs. "If I must."

"I have plans with Thing," Pugsley says, smiling apologetically at Enid.

All eyes turn towards you and you fight the urge to shrink in your seat. You gulp, but before you can come up with an excuse to not have to leave your house, your mother is urging you to go. "It sounds like fun, sweetheart. Surely you'd love to go with your sister and friends."

"I-"

It's been years, darling," your father says. "I think it's time to get back out there. You're not that naive little girl anymore, mija."

You let your mouth close, everyone ignoring Xavier's, "Am I missing something?"

Wednesday's giving you her usual deadpan stare whereas Enid is smiling and nodding, encouraging you to go. Both your parents are smiling, anticipating your answer, but what makes you cave is the fact that a part of you actually wants to go. You want to be somewhat of a normal teenager, being out and about with your sister, Enid, and a cute boy.

Reluctantly, your shoulders sag and you give a nod. "Fine. I'll make an attempt."

"I'll take it!" Enid blurts.

Wednesday looks pleased with your answer and you finish the rest of dinner without uttering another word.

Then the next evening, you're being picky about what outfit you should wear. You'd taken to wearing different shades of black and gray, but tonight you want to look good. All your dresses and skirts are out of the question, and eventually you settle on a pair of burgundy plaid leggings and a black sweater crop top. You fix your hair to your liking and then slip your feet into a pair of black combat boots before lacing them up tightly. Then deeming yourself ready, you shove your phone, cash, and ID into a miniature backpack that is adorned with skulls and crossbones.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you finally make your way downstairs.

Wednesday, Enid, and Xavier are waiting for you, and when Wednesday sees you… a smile slowly blossoms as she takes you in.

"What are you-" Enid turns around and her jaw drops. Then she beams and practically hops in place in her excitement. "You're wearing something other than black!"

Xavier turns, his gulp very obvious. "Wow." You think he must've wanted to keep that to himself because he blushes and nervously runs a hand through his loose hair. "You, uh, you look nice."

You arch an eyebrow at him, grinning. "Thanks."

Walking past them, you walk outside to where Lurch is waiting by the car to drive you into town. He hums when he sees you and you wrinkle your nose at him as he opens the back door for you. You climb in to sit on the bench seat directly behind the driver's seat, holding in your surprise when Wednesday and Enid shove Xavier in right behind you. He practically falls into his seat, righting himself as smoothly as he can, and Wednesday and Enid take their seats across from you.

Enid and Xavier keep the conversation flowing with you and Wednesday occasionally humming in response.

After several long minutes of driving, Wednesday is instructing Lurch where to drop you all off. It's a couple blocks away from the cinema, but your sister apparently wants to go for a brief walk. Though the second your feet are on the pavement and Lurch drives away, you freeze.

"Hey. You okay?" Xavier asks.

Your hands are gripping the straps to your backpack and you gulp, subconsciously stepping closer to him when he gently touches your elbow. "Y-Yeah."

"Come on. Wednesday will leave us behind if we linger."

"Mhm."

Gently pulling on your arm, you stiffly follow Xavier. Your eyes are peeled for anyone staring, hands tightening on the straps of your bag. The only time you feel yourself exhaling with relief is when Xavier puts himself between you and the street, letting you take the part of the sidewalk that's closest to the buildings.

Enid and Wednesday are walking in front of you, elbows linked, and occasionally Enid giggles over her shoulder when she glances back at you. But you're too paranoid to pay her any mind and try to focus on the silent strength that Xavier is unknowingly offering up.

At the cinema, Enid asks for four tickets to the latest werewolf thriller, and she happily claps when Xavier pays for everyone. At the snack counter it takes everything in you to not bolt or hide out in the bathroom, but you shakily manage to retrieve your own cash to pay for some nachos and a drink.

So far no one's stared or shouted and you find yourself relaxing, especially when you take a seat in the movie room and everyone is paying attention to their people that they showed up with.

Sitting between Xavier and Wednesday, you find yourself breathing a little easier.

Enid has several hot dogs balancing on her lap, Wednesday is chewing on black licorice, and you and Xavier had the same idea to get nachos. He, however, also nabbed several boxes of candy and a bucket of popcorn.

"I hope you choke on a kernel," Wednesday says as she watches him stuff handful after handful of popcorn into his mouth.

You giggle, licking the cheesy goodness from your fingertips and sipping on your drink.

And halfway through the movie, you hear Xavier actually choke. A laugh slips out of your sister before her lips are pressed closed once more, and you offer Xavier your drink. Sharing a straw doesn't bother you, so you nod in reassurance as he stares at it.

For the rest of the movie, you and Xavier share your drink. And when you run out, he quickly leaves the darkness of the room to get you a refill.

After the movie, you're standing outside in front of the cinema as Enid talks about the horrible cosmetics they used to portray a werewolf. Wednesday is tapping away on her phone before she puts it away, cutting Enid off mid rant and giving her a nod. She squeals and happily claps her hand, and you stare at them in confusion.

"There's a fair going on," Wednesday says. "Enid wants to go."

You slowly tense up. "Oh."

The bubbly werewolf's smile falls. "But if that's too much for you, we don't-"

"No. It's fine," you assure her. Your hands are back to gripping the straps of your backpack. "We can- we can go."

Enid is back to happily clapping, but Wednesday curiously studies your demeanor. And when she sees you're not about to have a meltdown, she turns and follows after her friend.

"We can always hang out front of the fair if you really don't want to go in," Xavier says. You startle, somehow having forgotten he was there. "I don't mind waiting with you."

"It's okay. Really." Your smile is shaky as you look up at him. "Just, uh, maybe don't leave me alone in there?"

"Stick by your side. Got it." Xavier grins as he offers you his elbow and you're quick to latch on. "I'll even win you the ugliest prize we can find if you're up for it."

You chuckle and let him lead the way, occasionally glancing up at him. "Christ, I forget how tall you are sometimes."

"I'm not tall, you're just really small."

"Ha. Ha."

When you eventually make it to the fair, Xavier hesitates with you as you warily glance around. Then taking a deep breath, you press on and practically make yourself flush against his side. You walk around for a bit, smiling when you see Wednesday and Enid pass you by, Enid already holding tightly to a stuffed unicorn.

As you're walking around, your eyes are drawn back to a green and black dragon that's about half your size. Xavier must notice because he decides to try his hand at basketball in order to win the prize and it takes him four tries to win it.

You don't know what it is about Xavier that makes your guard start to drop, but you find yourself smiling and laughing a bit more easier. He tries winning a panda next, but in between his dart throwing, he notices as you keep your back to the game and are staring from side to side.

You're too distracted to notice he's watching you, your arms wrapped around your dragon as you nervously chew on the bottom corner of your lip. He sighs a little dejectedly, turning around so he can see where you're staring off to. "So who's the lucky guy… or girl?"

"Excuse me?" You look up at him, brow furrowed in confusion.

"You keep glancing around." He faintly grins. "Are you waiting for someone?"

You study his features, eyes subtly widening when you notice something. Was that- was that jealousy clouding his expression? "Wednesday didn't tell you," you then mumble in awe. You for sure thought he knew why you never left your home. After all, Enid did.

"Tell me what?"

You gulp, glancing at the carnie listening in to your conversation. "Let's go for a walk. I'll fill you in." Shakily exhaling, you gesture for Xavier to follow. Side by side, he walks with you with his hands tucked away in the pockets of his coat. "A few years ago, Wednesday, Pugsley, and I were attacked by a group of normies. It… wasn't a pleasant experience for me and it's actually how I got this," you say while gesturing to the scar on your eyebrow. "They were ripping- uh, they were ripping off my clothes, so I stabbed one of them." Your breath hitches and when you chance a glance up at Xavier, you find that his jaw is clenched. "I stopped them from doing that to me, but they managed to hit me with a brick before they ran away."

You make it a few more steps before you're being tugged to a stop and then Xavier is walking to stand in front of you. Gently cupping one side of your face, you manage to hold back a flinch when his thumb brushes over your scar. "You're safe with me. You know that right?"

"I'm starting to realize that."

"That was a shit thing those normies did and I'll be damned if they do anything on my watch." When you meet his gaze, he offers you a small smile. "Now let's go win Wednesday the brightest stuffed animal we can find and make her take a picture with it."

Slowly smiling, you chuckle. "Okay."

And by the end of the night, you and Xavier have won the most terribly bright and fluffy stuffed animals, shoved them near Wednesday's face, and had Enid hurriedly snap a picture of your glaring sister.

You're smiling and skipping alongside Enid towards a waiting Lurch, laughing with all the stuffed animals crammed between your arms and bodies before crawling into the idling car.

For once, in a very long time, you've had fun and didn't worry about any normies looking in your direction.

Xavier's just got off the phone with his father when a familiar song being played on the cello draws him towards Wednesday's room. The door is open, the room is empty, but there's another door that leads out to a balcony.

Following the music, he's not surprised to find Wednesday playing Paint It Black while Thing turns the sheet music for her. Gomez, Morticia, Pugsley, and Enid are also on the balcony, staring at something down below.

"What's going on?" He asks, stepping closer to the railing.

Enid glances at him, beaming. "Take a look for yourself."

Xavier glances down, gaze falling to the gazebo that's been strung up with white fairy lights. But what draws his attention is the twirling figure inside the gazebo, adorned in a black leotard and a multicolored tutu. His jaw subtly drops. "She dances?"

"She dances." He looks over at Morticia Addams, tears glistening in her eyes. "It's been years since she's put on her slippers though."

"This week and a half with you and Enid have brought our daughter back," Gomez says. "Thank you."

Paint It Black fades into Nothing Else Matters and a majority of the white lights darken into purple. Xavier is entranced by the way you twirl on the tips of your toes, the stretch of your neck whenever your head is thrown back, and the long stretch of your leg when you twirl on the tips of your toes only on one foot.

As the music fades out, Enid breaks out into applause.

Your head snaps up at the sound of clapping, chest heaving, and your face burns when you see everyone watching you. Your little brother whistles as he claps too, but it's your parents' beaming and tearful expressions that keeps you from fleeing. Well them and Xavier who looks more than a little awed.

So before you do take your leave, you give them a little bow and then rush back inside the house.

Sitting on the floor in the middle of the sunroom, you're staring at the lockscreen on your phone. You never saw when the picture was taken, but apparently Enid had been keeping tabs on you and Xavier when you were at the fair, and now it was one of your favorite pictures.

In the picture, you and Xavier are walking side by side, one of your arms wrapped around your stuffed dragon with the other arm looped through his. You're looking up at him and he down at you, both of you smiling. But what made you grin at the picture the most was the height difference between you and Xavier. Enid was spot on when she described you two as tall and smol.

Hearing approaching footsteps, you block out your screen and climb to your feet… and speak of the devil.

Xavier walks in, smiling. "Knew I'd find you here."

"Did you now?" Walking over to a bench seat, you gesture to the space beside you. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to see if you were up to going into town. The cinema is showing this new cheesy horror flick and I thought you might be interested in going before my time here is up."

"Oh. Uh, yeah." Your heart starts to hammer in your rib cage. Could this be a- "Just us or are Enid and Wednesday waiting for us out front?"

"Just us?" His answer is more of a question, his cheeks tinting pink the longer you stare.

Eventually you grace him with a bashful smile. "Sure. I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You laugh. "Are- are we leaving now?"

"Yeah. We can, uh, window shop and all that fun stuff before the movie."

Warmth surges through you, at the thought that Xavier wants to spend time with just you. You're not sure if this is actually a date, but you're looking forward to one on one time without a family member lurking around the corner. "Alright. Let me just go get a bag." As you stand up to leave the room, a vine falls over the entrance. But not just any vine- a vibrant green vine that hadn't been there moments before.

"Huh." Xavier huffs. "That's the first colorful plant life I've seen in this room."

Your eyes widen and you glance all around the room, taking notice how the dead plant life isn't looking quite so dull anymore. "No way," you breathe in awe. Turning towards where the fountain sits, you rush over and pick up one of the dead water lilies. Cradling it in the palms of your hand, you notice a couple of changes in the once dead flower. Feeling Xavier walk up beside you, you ask, "Remember how I said I used to be able to breathe life into this place?"

"Yeah."

"Watch." Bringing the water lily closer to your face, you let your eyes fall shut as you inhale deeply. Then slightly pursing your lips, you blow out slowly and you can feel the water lily coming back to life right there in the palm of your hands.

"Wow." Your eyes open upon Xavier's exclamation. "And here I was thinking you had a green thumb or something. Not that you actually breathe life into them."

Huffing a laugh, you blink your tears away and gently lay the water lily back in the fountain. "I haven't been able to do this for years. I guess I had a mental block and then you- you and Enid show up and I feel more at peace than I have in a while." You step up on the side of the fountain then, turning towards Xavier as you smile. "Thank you." Then leaning in, you press a kiss to his cheek.

He suddenly turns bashful, angling his face downward so his hair shields his blushing cheeks. "I never realized how small you were."

"Shut up. You're just freakishly tall."

As Xavier glances at you through his curtain of hair, you wrinkle your nose at him and then hop off the fountain siding less you do something to ruin the moment.

Like kiss him on the lips rather than the cheek.

Spending the day with Xavier alone goes so much better than you had expected, so much so that you find yourself incredibly sad the day he is set to leave. It was clear to your entire family that something had shifted between the two of you when you'd come back home, hand in hand with a never-ending blush staining both your cheeks.

Enid was more than ecstatic and Wednesday took to sharpening her short swords whenever possible.

You're in the sunroom, clipping roses with your mother when Xavier walks in. In hand, he has a covered canvas.

"I have something for you," he tells you. "But I'm sure your mom is going to take ownership of it after she sees what it is."

You smirk at him, setting down your clippers and walking over to him. Your mother isn't far behind. "Did you paint me something?"

"I did." His hands dig into his pockets after his hands are free when you take the gift from him. You stare at the covered canvas, trying to figure out what it could possibly be. "You inspired me the other night and I just had to capture the moment."

You glance up at him, eyes narrowing though you continue to smile, and pull the cover off your painting. Your mother's delighted gasp is what makes you glance down and you're struck speechless.

The painting… is of you.

Specifically you dancing in the gazebo with the only color in the painting being that of your tutu.

"Xavier, this is…" You trail off, staring in awe. A moment passes and he brings the painting to life. Your mother starts to clap, even more delighted now as the miniature version of you dances away. "This is amazing. Thank you."

"I must show your father. This is just splendid." Your mother takes the painting, but not before gently grazing her nails along Xavier's jaw and smiling at him. "Thank you, young Mr. Thorpe."

"Y-You're welcome, Mrs. Addams."

Your mother sighs wistfully before glancing at the painting and then leaves the two of you alone. As soon as she's out of your sight, your hands are reaching for the lapels of Xavier's coat, his hands are clinging to your waist, and he's leaning down to meet you in a kiss.

You giggle when his hair falls forward to tickle your face and it makes Xavier smile.

"We really should have started this sooner," he says as he hesitantly straightens himself out. "I'm gonna miss you while I'm at Nevermore."

"What if… what if you didn't have to miss me?" You ask, your hands smoothing down the wrinkles you'd made on his coat.

"What?"

"What if I came to Nevermore?" He's quiet a little too long for your liking and you start to feel like maybe you read too much into whatever you two were. "Or not. I just thought-"

"Are you kidding me?" You barely manage to hold back a wince and Xavier's sudden laugh has you wanting to crawl into a hole. But when you chance a glance up at him, his expression is not what you were expecting. He's actually excited! "You're going to Nevermore?!"

You shrug, grinning sheepishly. "Mom's been talking to Principal Weems. I have a meeting with her in a couple of days to see whether or not I'll be a good fit."

"Hell yes." His smile is boyish and you can't help but giggle. "You'll make it in. I know it."

"I hope so. I love my parents, but they're not the greatest of teachers."

"You're gonna love it. I can introduce you to my friends and show you all the cool hang out spots. We can-"

"Xavier. Xavier!" You laugh, trying to talk over his excitement. "We don't even know if I'll get in."

"I'm telling you, you will. And if Principal Weems denies you, I'm pretty sure Wednesday will bug her until she grants you a place at the school."

"Oh. I forgot what going to school with a sibling was like." This time, you do wince. "People are going to dread another Addams roaming the halls, aren't they?"

"Some will." He grins. "But once they get to know you, they'll grow to like you."

You sigh but end up shaking your head in amusement. "If I do get in, how shocked do you think everyone will be if Wednesday's sister shows up dressed like Enid?"

"You'll confuse the hell out of everyone. Do it."

"I will. Now come on. We got away with one kiss. I have a feeling if another happens, a dagger will whiz by out of thin air."

"Xavier." The boy in question flinches as your sister pops up out of nowhere. "Your ride's here. Stop sucking my sister's face and go home. You'll see her soon enough."

He rolls his eyes, even as you laugh in the face of your sister's glare. "Always a pleasant encounter, Wednesday."

"Not really."

He huffs and glances back down at you, his gaze falling to your lips. But before he can get carried away, Wednesday's grunting and dragging him away. "Okay. Okay!" He laughs.

"You're gross. I never should have introduced you two."

You follow after them, trailing behind until you're standing under the archway of your front door. Wednesday pushes him down the steps and he walks to the car that Lurch is putting his suitcases in. He offers you one last look, one last smile, and one last wave before climbing into the vehicle his father had sent for him.

Once the car drives out of the gate, Wednesday turns towards you. "Are you happy?"

"Uh, yes?"

She quietly groans. "And here I was preparing Enid to hide a body in the family cemetery. She'll be let down that all that studying was for naught."

You bark out a laugh. "Stop corrupting Enid, Wednesday."

"Never." Her lips twitch in amusement. "Now come on. Let's go visit Principal Weems."

"But my interview is still a couple days away."

"So? She needs to be kept on her toes. She'll have to grow used to having two Addams' in her school."

"If you say so."

"I do."

[peachesofteal]

Mother Peaches you. You are BLESSING us with content. And I am an ungrateful heathen stepping into your home to throw out a thought that if you by chance were stumped on something to write or wanted to throw a scrap out into the void as a warm up writing piece or cool down or whatever the writer equivalent is. May I propose the idea of Simon and Johnny boy taking care of darling when she has a cold? The sniffles, if you will. For I fear that I am on deaths doorstep and this cold will actually take me out. My dying wish, if you please, dear peach. May those two beefy boys take me to the gates of heaven.

Here is some comfort and fluff for everyone before Chapter 11 goes up. Consider it a gift. Hope you recovered well, dear anon! Ghost/Soap/female reader - Dead Disco verse Warnings-tags: sickfic, loss of consciousness, hospitals.

"Ye're sleepy this morning." Johnny hums, palm smoothing over your forehead. "Ye feelin' okay?" A yawn stretches your lips wide, and you shrug.

"Yeah, just tired." Your head hurts a little, an ache reverberating behind your skull, spreading out from your eyes to your ears, so you bury your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of his skin. "Don't wanna get up."

"Well, ye dinnae have to. But I thought we could have breakfast while we wait for Si." He murmurs. You blink up at him, sight a little bleary, and he frowns, brow wrinkled in concern. "Darling?"

"Yeah, breakfast is fine. Good." your lips smack, dry. Crusted. You snuggle closer, chilled, and Johnny wraps his arms around you, rubbing a palm down your back.

"Are ye sure ye're feeling alright?"

"Mhmm."

"Breakfast in bed, then?" The proposal carries weight, memories, of past meals in bed, ones that ended with you being the meal instead of whatever Johnny whipped up, but instead of it exciting you, you relent to your weariness, sinking back into the sheets with a sigh. Johnny kisses you, sweet lips on your brow. "Go back to sleep, love. I'll bring you something in a bit." And well, who can say no to that?

You wake some time later to the bed shifting, blankets being moved. The air is heavy, thick with heat even though you're freezing, the throbbing in your skull much worse than it was before.

"Darling?" It's Simon. He's in bed beside you, trying to peel you free from the pile of blankets. You open your mouth to respond, but instead of words, a dry heave wells in your chest, rough, sputtering cough wracking your body. "Fuck, okay. I've got you, c'mon. Up we go." He heaves you into his arms, supporting your weight, back to his chest, your breathing labored.

"She's gotten worse." Johnny grimaces, thumb stroking your temple. "Didnae have a cough this morning." This morning?

"What time is it?" You croak.

"It's nearly twelve." Twelve? You've slept the whole morning. You fidget, trying to shift off the bed, but Simon stills you with an arm across your chest, palm flat over your heart.

"Jus' take it easy. You're not going anywhere."

"I slept the whole morning." You protest, but let them lay you back, settling you against the pillows.

"You're sick, darling. You're running a fever, and I don't like the sound of that cough." You shake your head, trying to protest, but when you take a breath, it gets stuck in your chest, and your eyes widen when your lungs heave. "Alright, you're alright." Simon soothes, voice low in your ear. "Just breathe, that's it." Once the bout finishes, he resettles you, and then trades places with Johnny, tucking him in alongside your body, working the blankets in around you both.

"Simon's goin' get ye some tea, and I'm goin' hold ye for a while."

"We had plans today." You moan, and he clucks.

"We can reschedule. Ye're what's important." Blue eyes full of worry watch you, and his brow crumples. "Ach, poor darling girl. I'm sorry ye're feeling so bad." He's so sweet, so kind. So loving, even when you're sick as death, it still makes you feel so warm and tingly, all through your body.

"Love you." You whisper, and he holds you close, nose in your hair.

"Love ye too."

Everything is dark. You feel like you're swimming in a murky pool, blackened, sticky tar that weighs you down, your arms and legs trying to fight to propel you up to the surface for air, working to break through so you can breathe.

In the water, in the deep, someone calls your name. Someone yells it, shouts it, and you try opening your eyes in response, to no avail. I'm here, you want to scream. I'm right here. Your body shakes, like you're being dragged, tossed around like a doll, and you try to speak, use your voice again. Nothing comes, and the dark swallows you whole, filling your mouth and nose with it's pitch black water, pushing you beneath it's swell once more.

The next time you wake, you're not in the bedroom. The ceiling is white, world too bright. There's something on your face, in your arm, and you whine at the feeling, skin pulling taut beneath tape.

"Hey, hey. You're alright." It's Simon, Simon's voice around you, pulling you closer, and your vision focuses, to see the two very concerned, very frantic faces of your boyfriends hovering over you.

"There she is." Johnny breathes.

"What..." You look around. This is a hospital. Why are you in the hospital? "What happened?" Just being in a place like this makes you anxious, sends your pulse rate higher, and they both glance up at the sound of the hurried beeping coming from the monitor.

"Ye're okay. It's alright, darling. Take a deep breath."

"We couldn't wake you up." Simon explains from your right, sitting back in a chair that's been pulled to the side of the bed. He clutches your hand, kissing your knuckles. "You were wheezing and it-" He stops abruptly, swallowing. He looks scared, you realize, and when you look at Johnny's face, you see it too. The fear. The worry.

"Ye sounded like ye were in pain." Johnny says. "We called for an ambulance and brought ye here."

"Am... am I okay?" You whisper, and they both smile, gently. Sweetly.

"You're okay, darling. You're going to be fine. You're on a strong course of antibiotics and we're going to take you home tomorrow." Simon assures, still holding onto your hand. Johnny perches on the bed by your hip, leaning over to kiss you, lips on your cheek for a lingering second.

"They said we can stay with ye tonight." He gestures to the little pull out bed by the window, and a recliner that has a pillow and blankets stacked on it. "Hospital sleepover. We're all goin' eat jello." He thumbs your cheek, and you both smile, eyes wandering to where Simon sits like stone, severe expression on his face. "She's alright, Si. See?" Johnny murmurs, and he nods.

"I know." He clears his throat. "I know she is." You squeeze his hand.

"Everything's goin' be alright." Johnny continues, and Simon's eyes shudder for a second, slipping shut when he takes a deep breath. When he opens them, he looks calmer, more steadfast, and you smile at him.

"How about that jello, then?"

[fangirl-writes]

Small Spaces

JJ Maybank x Reader; John B. Routledge x Routledge!Reader

Warning(s): claustrophobia, anxiety attack, swearing

Request: jj maybank dating jb’s twin sister and her joining in on their adventures but she has severe anxiety so just him being super sweet and loving to her?

Notes: This is totally based on another fic I read that I can't find rn but it's my spin on it so I hope you like.

Fuck this, you thought. Seriously, fuck this.

You were squeezing yourself through a small hole in a mausoleum that had "Redfield" written across the top, just to see what was inside.

For John B., of course, because he was your brother, and he needed to find this clue almost as much as he needed to be breathing.

But god damn it, this was all you needed.

Between the near visit from child services, the hurricane, the dead guy's boat, the guy's gun, getting shot at, and surely more to come, you were due for a panic attack.

Your feet hit the ground with a loud smack and you winced at the noise.

"Still alive?" John B. asked.

"Oh my god, shut up,"

"Yep, she's alive."

You rolled your eyes and took the flashlight that Kie was offering you.

You shined the light around the space, bigger than you were expecting, but the fact that your exit was so small and that it would be a struggle getting back to it was making the anxiety stir in your stomach.

"Y/N? You okay?" JJ asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you replied. "What exactly am I looking for?"

"You'll know it when you see it."

"Real helpful, JB," you mumbled, shining the flashlight around and trying to focus on finding whatever it was rather than the darkness and the walls that felt like they were going to close in on you.

You gasp when a flash of white catches your eye.

"Y/N? You okay?" JJ asked

"Oh my god," you whispered.

"Y/N?" JJ asked again. "I'm gonna need some word confirmation that you're okay."

"Yeah, I-I'm fine," you replied. "I think I found it."

"What? Really?" John B. said, peaking into the space you'd crawled into.

You pulled out a long white envelope from a small space in the crypt, the words "FedEx" and "Bird" written on it.

Thanks for including me, Dad, you thought before taking the envelope over to the space and handing it to John B.'s outstretched hand.

"That's not gold," Pope said, a little disappointed.

But John B. was looking at it like it was. "Holy shit."

"JJ, a little help?" you said, reaching a hand through the space.

"Yeah, yeah, I gotchu, babe," he replied, helping you out of the crypt.

"This is from our dad," John B. said, looking around at the group.

"Yeah," you said, trying to catch your breath. "To you."

"Code red. Code red." JJ warned, the smoke from his joint fluttering up into the air. "Square groupers! Square groupers!"

Your stomach drops as the five of you start moving, JJ's hands grabbing your arms rougher than he probably meant to.

"It's the guys who robbed your house," JJ said.

Fuck, you think. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You guys hide on the side of the mausoleum, turning off and tucking the lights under your shirts.

You can feel it start to bubble up, your breathing becoming unsteady.

"Hey, I see something!"

"Do you think it's them?" Kiara asked.

"Homie's got a gun," JJ said as he and John B. peaked around the corner.

"Screw this," Kie said, taking off. The others followed her, including you, who was on the verge of breaking down.

"Right here!" One of the men shouted.

JJ's hand was on your back the whole time, but it did nothing to calm you down.

You each scaled the fence with little trouble except for Pope, who got his pants stuck on the gate.

It was funny until you were in the van and that anxiety attack had caught up with you, the adrenaline fix going away.

Your hands shook. Your chest tightened. Tears began streaming down your cheeks.

You were starting to hyperventilate, and your head was spinning. Even though you knew you were safe in the Twinkie now, you couldn't help the dread that was washing over you, the fear for your life that coiled around you like a snake.

"Hey, hey, hey, Y/N," JJ said, quickly catching on to what was happening. "You're okay, you're okay."

He made you look at him and took a few deep breaths for you to copy, which you did over and over.

"Shit, get this joint out of here," JJ said, handing it off to Pope.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" he asked.

"Throw it out the window or something, get it outta here. It only makes her worse."

You'd tried that anecdote before, and, as he said, it really did only make the panic attack worse. Through trial and error, JJ and John B. found the only things that helped you through a panic attack were calming words, help getting your breathing back to normal, and hugs.

So, JJ did just that. He held you close and whispered in your ear, rocking you back and forth slowly.

John B. checked your state in the rearview, feeling bad that he'd brought you along at all, even if you had insisted. Then he looked at the envelope sitting next to him and knew that, somehow, it would be worth it.

[celandeline]

I'm thinking about Carl being insecure about his eye. y/n found a way to comfort him. Imagine what comic Lydia did, LOL. But just write whatever you like

i got a little carried away with this one, so it's going to be a two-parter (sorry)

also- comic Lydia sticking her tongue in his eye socket haunts me like the plague because i can't decide if it's disgusting, or i too, would do that given the opportunity

Believe Me

Carl Grimes X Reader [part two]

You always make a point to see Aaron off when he’s about to leave to go recruiting. You know that he can handle himself, that he’s done this a million times before, that Daryl would never leave him behind, even if things got sticky - but you never know. Coming back alive is never guaranteed. 

You hold his bag for him while he fumbles with the car keys until it unlocks. “You’re sure you don’t want to take anything else? Another water bottle? More protein bars?”

He turns around to take his pack from you with a smile. “We’re only going to be gone for two days, I think I’ll be alright with just this.”

The rumble of Daryls bike announces his presence before he rolls up beside the car, stopping. “Y’ready?” He gruffs. 

“Almost.” He tosses his bag into the passenger seat before turning to back to you with open arms. “Give me a hug.”

You squish yourself into his chest, and squeeze him as tight as you can. “Bye Dad. Be safe.” 

You feel him swallow, and hold you a little tighter. Calling him Dad is still a little new, and it makes him tear up a little more often than not. He’s not your biological father - no, your biological parents died years ago at this point - but he has become a father to you, ever since you started living with him and Eric. 

“You too.” He says, pulling back to look you in the eye. “And make sure Eric doesn’t try the stairs alone again please. He’s not as good at maneuvering in that boot as he thinks he is.”

You grin, and jokingly salute. “Yes sir.”

He slips into the driver's seat, and then he and Daryl are pulling away, heading towards the gates. You watch them go until they round the corner, and try to put your nerves to rest. The sound of plastic wheels on the sidewalk is a welcome distraction, and you turn around to see Carl pushing Judith along in the stroller.

He smiles when you turn around, and you return the gesture. “They’re going out again?” He asks, nodding in the direction your dad and Daryl went. 

“Yeah.” You say. “Only for a couple days this time, but you know.” You never really know when you’re coming back. If you’re coming back. 

He nods, and Judith gurgles happily in her stroller, reaching for the hem of your shirt. “You wanna join?” He asks. “M’ just taking her around the cul de sac before I bring her home for her nap.”

“Sure.” You say, welcoming the distraction from worrying about if this is the time that Aaron doesn’t come back. You fall into step beside Carl as he pushes the stroller along, following the sidewalk, passing by the houses of friends and neighbors. It’s quiet, the middle of the day with most of the adults at work - whatever that may be. It almost feels like you, Carl, and Judith are the only people in this whole town. 

“You think you’re gonna do that?” Carl asks. “Go recruiting with Aaron when they decide we’re old enough for real jobs?”

“I don’t know.” You say, honestly. “I mean, I guess I wouldn’t worry so much if I was with him, but then Eric would worry twice as much. And I don’t have a whole lot of experience out there - I was only on my own for a couple of months before Aaron found me and brought me here. You’d be good though,” You glance over at him. “I mean, you’ve got loads of experience out in the real world.”

He shakes his head. “Nah- I mean, yeah I’m experienced, but I don’t think they want the kid with the mangled face being the one to go make first impressions on new people.” He grins, halfheartedly joking, “Don’t want to scare ‘em off.”

“Huh?” You laugh, looking over at him. “What’re you talking about?”

He rolls his eye. “C’mon.” He says. “I know what I look like. Sending the ugly guy out there to try and recruit people probably isn’t the best image for our group.”

“Carl.” You say, brow furrowing. “Do you know what you look like?” You’re so confused - sure, he’s missing an eye, but he’s still the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. The eye that he still has is the kind of blue that makes you think of the sky on a sunny day, and you’d kill for hair like his - long and silky and a dark brown that makes his blue eye stand out even more. He looks like a fairy tale prince. 

He glances at you. “You’re looking at me like I’m stupid.”

You laugh. “I mean how could you not be, when-” 

“Wow, thanks.” He snarks, cutting you off. 

“Shut up.” You say, knocking your shoulder into his. “I was trying to say that you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen, before you interrupted me.”

You words hang in the air, and he looks steadfastly ahead. The only sounds are the plastic stroller wheels rolling on the sidewalk, and Judith’s occasional little noises. You can see a blush rising to his cheeks, and bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling, lest he think you’re making fun of him. 

“You’re just saying that ‘cause we’re friends, and you’re trying to be nice.” He says. 

“‘M not.” You insist. “It’s true - you’re really pretty, Carl.”

He still won’t look at you. “Half my face is just a hole.”

“Which just makes you look cool and badass.” You say, trying to peer around his curtain of hair to get him to look at you. He still won’t look at you, and the redness on his face has only gotten worse. “You still don’t believe me.”

He shakes his head, slowing as you reach the steps up to the porch of his house. He walks around to the front of the stroller to unbuckle Judith and lift her out of the seat. She slumps against his shoulder, obviously ready for her nap. “Um.” Carl looks down at the stroller. “Could you-?”

“Gotcha.” You say, folding up the stroller and carrying it up the porch steps after Carl. He opens the door and you follow him inside, gently kicking it shut behind you. “Where-?”

“Uh, we usually just leave it by the door.” He says over his shoulder as he starts up the stairs. “Let me just put her down-” He disappears around the bend in the landing, and you prop the folded stroller against the wall next to the door. You loiter at the bottom of the stairs until Carl appears at the top again, still a little pink. 

He comes down the steps and leads the way into the living room, towards the couch. You plop down onto the sofa, turned to face him next to you. “So-”

“Can we talk about something else?”

“No.” You grin. “Not until you believe me.”

He rolls his eye. “Fine. I believe you.”

“I mean really believe me.” You say. “What’s it going to take?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fine.” You say. “Where’s the nearest mirror?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

He pauses for a moment before responding. “I have one in my room.”

You get up from the couch and creep upstairs, careful to keep quiet so as to not wake Judith, Carl a reluctant half step behind you. He points you in the direction of his room, and you slip inside, holding the door open for him before shutting it quietly. The mirror isn’t anything special, just a rectangle of glass hanging above the dresser, but you grin at the sight of it anyway. 

Grabbing him by the shoulders, you steer him in front of the mirror, watching over his shoulder. “See?”

“Yup.” He says, unenthused. “I see this every day, actually.”

“Apparently not.” You say, moving a hand from his shoulder to gently play with his hair. “I mean, look at this.” You hold the lock up in front of his gaze. “Your hair is gorgeous. And-” You drop his hair in favor of softly holding his jaw, turning his head so that his jawline is more prominent. “This.” You run a finger along the line of his jaw. “This too.” You turn his head again so that you can sweep your touch over the bridge of his nose. “And of course,” You thumb over his cheek, tapping each of his freckles. Your hand still on his cheek, you grin at him in the mirror. “You’re blushing.”

“What are you doing?” He asks, soft. 

“Showing you.” You say. 

“Why?”

“Because you should know.” You say. “And it’s personally offensive when you say you’re ugly, because that means you think the guy I’ve been flirting with is a total dud.”

It takes him a minute to process it, and you can see it in his eye when he puts it together. “You’ve been flirting with me?”

“Maybe you are stupid.” You muse. 

You didn’t think it was possible, but he turns even more red. “I don’t- really? Me? Why?”

“Jesus Christ Carl, how far am I going to have to go before you believe that I like you.” You laugh. 

He makes eye contact with you through the mirror. “As far as you want.”

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 58

part 1 | part 57 | ao3

@steddie-island said i wasn't allowed to cut this lol. cw: angst, canon typical horror, mentions of minor character death

“Lucas called me a ghost today.”

Steve almost laughs, bitter and sharp. Sure. Why not? What’s one more ghost in his passenger seat?

He doesn't really want to talk to her right now, if he's honest. It's been fifteen minutes and she still hasn't apologized for trying to rob him, or explained where they're going, or what spooked her, or why this car ride was so urgent that he had to risk his job for it — a job he actually needs, considering his, well, everything. She's hardly said anything beyond the occasional "turn here" or "next left" while sulking with her forehead pressed against the window.

But he can tell she has something she needs to get off her chest, so he swallows his annoyance and offers, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she says back. Doesn't elaborate.

He gives her another minute to gather her words, watches her open and close her mouth a few times in his periphery, but nothing comes out. She scoffs at herself and abruptly changes the subject. “Eddie was being extra… well, extra today.”

“Was he?” Steve asks, his bones itching under his skin. He doesn't want to talk about Eddie. Doesn't want to think his name.

“Yeah, he, uh- he was kinda manic? He was, like, running all over the cafeteria and starting shit with Jason Carver...” And he's only half-listening, anger simmering as she goes on and on, because she promised that Dustin didn't put her up to this. Said that this wasn't some bullshit excuse to get him to talk about Eddie or hang out with Eddie or think about Eddie or kiss and make up with fucking Eddie, and now she's just talking about him, and it-

And it hurts; god, it still just hurts—

"....Then he started rambling about how he can’t wait to get the hell out of here when he graduates.”

Searing-stabbing-burning-sharp. Steve clutches at the flare of pain in his chest, the crushed soda-can feeling where his heart's supposed to be. His head pounds. He follows her next direction onto a winding, tree-lined road, the canopy suffocating overhead, and his skin feels too dry — too tight, too small, shrink-wrapping him inside of it, because he knows where they are now. Knows the tilt of the rusted lamp shade, the shape of the weather brick paths. He's tasted the metal tang of this stop sign in his nightmares.

Fuck. Fuck.

"Cool," he grits out as he drives through the cemetery gates. Past stone and wrought iron, past the empty central fountain. He hasn't been here since July. “Good for him.”

“Steve-"

“Why are you telling me this?" he snaps. He throws the car in park under an old oak and turns to glare at her, barking a frustrated, "Huh?"

Immediately, he feels bad for raising his voice. Feels even worse for the way she flinches away. The naked fear on her face, her hand reaching for the door. He takes a long, deep breath and lets it out slowly through his nose. “Sorry. Sorry. Just-" There's a leak inside him somewhere; some infected, gaping hole, and his stupid heart keeps pumping all his blood into the wound. "Why are you-?”

“Look,” she says sharply, "I know it sucks. To talk about him." She's staring at the rows of headstones up ahead, her face gone steely with determination, her shoulders squared, her big eyes wide and a little wet when she turns to meet his gaze. “But whatever you were— whatever happened, it just… it really messed him up.”

Good. "You sound like Dustin."

"Maybe Dustin had a point."

"Since when?"

She throws her hands up, nostrils flaring. "I'm trying to tell you that I think he still cares!"

“Yeah? He’s got a seriously fucked up way of showing it if so!”

“Yeah, well some of us don’t know how to show it!”

And oh.

Oh.

Silence blankets them like dust. Eyes locked; harsh breaths. This has nothing to do with him and Eddie, does it?

Lucas called me a ghost.

Steve sighs and slumps forward, his forearms on the wheel, his chin resting on his wrist. The late afternoon sun is warm through the glass, and his head gives another nasty throb as he looks out over the hill, at the polished stones glinting in the golden hour rays.

His dad is buried here.

A lot of people are.

“Hey,” he murmurs, rolling his neck to look at her. The skin under her eyes is red. "Sorry for yelling."

She sniffs quietly. "Me, too."

He reaches over and gives her hand a quick squeeze, keeping his voice low and gentle. "You know you can just talk to me, right? Max, talk to me. Please.”

Her bottom lip quivers. “It’s nothing, okay?” She sinks down in her seat, crossing her arms to shield herself. “Shit’s just been… it’s just been weird all week. Like- like bad weird, and I don't know if I'm just going crazy, or— I mean, maybe Ms. Kelley's right, maybe's it's just— but it feels like…”

"Like what?"

She holds a hand out flat in front of her; flips her wrist over slowly so her palm faces the sky.

Steve's blood runs cold. He thinks of his own nightmares: the weird visions, the headaches, the persistent haunted feeling.

"I don't know anything for sure," she insists, rushing to reassure him before he can fully start to panic. "Seriously, don't freak out; I haven't, like, seen any gates or anything, it's just— bad dreams. Nose bleeds. I don't know." She hoists her backpack onto her shoulder. "I thought coming here might help."

He catches her by the arm, raking his eyes over her face, looking for any signs of danger. "Is there anything I can do?"

She shakes her head no and tugs free of his grip, and then she's slipping out of the car, letting the door fall shut behind her, and Steve watches her crest the hill while sirens wail inside his head.

—

part 59

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