#have this blog my whole teen years

[djsangos]

//who are THESE fresh squids?? (made here)

okay these guys might not get a mention on this blog for a while- if ever- so i'm gonna talk about them now bc i've been rotating them in my mind for a while

these are captain's siblings! the ones they left behind when they were 14 to run away to inkopolis. captain certainly isn't proud of leaving them behind at ALL, in fact the one thing they wish they'd done differently is taking them with them, even if it would've been damn near impossible to take care of 2 younger siblings all on their own away from home when they were already struggling to take care of themself. they have no idea how their siblings fared with their neglectful ass father after they left, but pierce (right) was only a year or 2 younger than them, so they hoped he'd be able to leave soon too- taking harper (left) with him

so yeah harper (left) i think is probably around 16 or 17 now, having been 7 or 8 when captain left. since she was pretty young she didn't really know exactly why they left, and they didn't tell her either, so i'd say she probably resents them for it. she's a hotheaded edgy teen, classic rebel, you know the deal.

and then there's pierce (right), who's around 21 or 22 now, so he would've been 12 or 13 when they left. even if they didn't say a word to him before packing their bags and hopping a train at the asscrack of dawn, he knows exactly why they did. because being a kid and not only growing up, but having to parent your 2 younger siblings in your father's place, is hard. he basically had to take on their role as caretaker of harper when they left, being the second oldest, and that's how he realized. he doesn't resent them exactly, but he does wish they'd at least said goodbye. he's an outwardly chipper guy, and puts on a brave face even at the worst of times.

and they both did eventually get out of that house- pierce didn't leave as soon as he turned 14 like captain did (though cod, he wanted to) but when harper was old enough to be left home alone he got a job and saved up what he could to get himself and his younger sister out of there. and then when harper was 12 and he was 17, he got them both out of there. they might have gone somewhere else first, but i wanna say they probably ended up in splatsville, living in an apartment together with pierce doing what he can to support harper through school, and she does some turfing herself to help with rent and save up her own money so she can get her own place eventually.

i feel like the reason they probably haven't run into captain is that captain lives in inkopolis and only really goes to splatsville to visit rookie, and the last time they saw their siblings, neither of them were fully transformed yet, and they aren't so easy to recognize anymore themself. so if they've happened to pass each other on the street, it'd take more than just a cursory glance to realize just who they're passing. so it could definitely, and likely will, happen eventually. who's to say.

[casiavium]

[vivitalks]

x

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

-

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

[space-station-nursery]

◜ 🍯𓂃 Little Snacks! ‧ 🧃◞

⁺　　◍ 　 . 　 ⁺　　☆　　⁺ 　 . 　 ◍　　⁺

People regress to all ages from infancy to young teen years, check out these snacks ideas and if there are any you'd like to try!

⁺　　◍ 　 . 　 ⁺　　☆　　⁺ 　 . 　 ◍　　⁺

⧼ 1 ⧽ Infancy/baby [0-2]

Yogurt melts teething waifers puff cereal [apple cinnamon ones are my favorite from gerber] puff cheetos dry cereal [as long as its not too sugary!] baby food pouches/apple sause/yogurt pouches finely cut fruit!

⧼ 2 ⧽ Toddlers [2-4]

Soft granola bars apple Sause/yogurt pouches Cheese sticks [string cheese] Crackers/goldfish dry cereal pretzels mini bagels yogurt tubes Graham Crackers Mini ravioli from Gerber

⧼ 3 ⧽ Kiddos [5-9] DO NOT RE-WRITE OR POST AS OWN

Teddy grahams/Scooby snacks Fruit snacks Single serving chip bags Frosted animal cookies trail mix Simple/easy sammiches Fruit slices[apples, oranges]/Whole fruit [berries] Fruit cups veggies and dip Anything you may have eaten during this age!

⁺　　◍ 　 . 　 ⁺　　☆　　⁺ 　 . 　 ◍　　⁺

18+ Blogs|| AB!DL|| DD!LG|| Over age 26 (27+) || Do not interact

Fact OTD: Sharks do not have bones! They are a special type of fish known as "elasmobranchs", which translates into fish made of cartilaginous tissues

[dcxdpdabbles]

If you had to pick one of your stories to redo, either a portion or change the whole direction, which one would it be?

Ohhhhh, this is a good thought-inducing question. Ironically, some of my work results from thinking, "You know what? This would be hilarious if I didn't stick to plan and went off the deep end," and creating a new AU. (How Danny's grill came to be. It was based on The Bakery is a front with the same idea of Tim being undercover at Danny's food-based business, but instead of looking for proof of lawbreaking, he's looking for evidence that Danny is not human, and the bats freaking out about it)

But I would pick Freelance Inventor just to make it all through the Justice League's POV of Batman and his mysterious lover. They talk in the break room around the water cooler about how the Robins all at one point mentioned "B's Not-Boyfriend" and wonder what that means.

The League would see the Gotham heroes casually threaten Batman by telling on him to "Not-Boyfriend" and watch the Batman actually become the "Let's not be too hasty." meme.

They watch as the crazy, controlling Batman shake his head and sigh when he notices that his calendar was changed by "Not-Boyfried" to force him to stop going up to the Watchtower for meetings and instead go to "Photograph Award show, "Zoo day with youngest" "Cook for the father that raised you, you lazy city dweller who lacks respect."

Flash screenshot of the last one because the previous day, it was marked as "Speedster training and combat counters". Flash needed proof for those who would miss the massacre about to happen. He thought that he would witness Batman drag the poor unfortunate soul to dare mess with his Calander app down to hell, and instead saw him googling British recipes because he needs to have a meal plan out now.

It wouldn't just be the Justice League- though it starts with them from founding day to well over a decade- but all hero communities would begin to hear about Not-Boyfriend.

At different times, the Robins would grumble about doing class work on the extended space trips because Not-Boyfriend would be disappointed in them. They don't care if they piss off Batman, but Not-Boyfriend's sad, letdown eyes would haunt the Robins.

These are the same people who would swing themselves at monsters who were sometimes actually gods of myth with nothing but spandex and spite.

The Teen Titans witness Robin leave with his Not-Boyfriend during the Big Fight, which eventually leads to him becoming Nightwing. They start treating Robin like a Divorce Kid. Batman is the bum dad in that situation.

The Outsiders witness Robin go from anger to a protective, gleeful Redhood when Not-Boyfriend calls to check up on him. They are all welcome to stay in Not-Boyfriend's houses—he owns many properties worldwide for his travels—and he becomes the remarkable, safe adult house. They just never speak to him face to face.

Young Justice's Robin has some serious self-esteem issues. They all sort of do as the ones the older heroes forget about. This is why when Robin shows up one day asking if they would do a random fashion blog to trick Not-Boyfriend, they jump at the chance to make a more solid identity besides the clone, the time traveler, and the daughter of Zues. Then Not-Boyfriend, whom they never met and shouldn't care about, starts sending gifts, and I'm so proud of you kids through Robin up until he becomes Red Robin, they realize he's the cooler dad.

SuperSons Robin will respect no one- not even Batman or Nightwing- as he does Not-Boyfriend. They can get him to listen and calm down after noticing his siblings using the "I'm telling Not-Boyfriend on you" trick that worked on his father.

The heroes know so much about Not-Boyfriend but know nothing. He's like Big-Foot. Everyone knows who Big-Foot legend is, but no one can prove Big-Foot.

Of course, over the seventeen years of Justice Leauge's founding, heroes would assume Not-Boyfriend was helping Batman raise his children and, for some reason, couldn't be married (The rise in heroes demanding equal marriage helped legalize same-sex marriage after a bitter sixteen-year fight).

They accept he's Batman's husband, who may be a civilian, a hero, or even a villain.

They accept that Batman and Not-Boyfriend may be divorced and share custody of the children.

They accept that Batman may not be over his partner and is still, to this day, trying to win him back.

They accept that Not-Boyfriend forgave Batman years ago and are back together.

They accept that there was never a split, and the two just argued that Young-Robins blew out of proportion.

The hero community literally accepts any theory if presented well and backed enough with suitable examples. At one point, it was a tradition of trying to decipher what was going on with Batman and Not-Boyfriend.

It's even wilder when Batman reveals himself as Bruce Wayne because he is known for not having any dates despite the number of people who have tried to fling themselves at him. He's notorious for putting a lid on his playboy tendencies- showing growth, and his new persona changed to Ditzy Dad of Gotham- back when he took in Dick Grayson, but now they know it's because he had Not-Boyfriend?

Then finding out Not-Boyfriend is Danny Fenton, the Willy Wonka-esque of the inventing world???????

This man who disappears from the public eye only shows up somewhere in a jungle with an invention that low-key solves the issue of contaminated water? This man, who freelances to anyone and everyone, things that come straight out of sci-fi without a blink?

The same man who people years ago accused Bruce Wayne of sleeping with, only to be told point black by Bruce, "I wish I was sleeping with him. Have you seen him?," and people thought he was joking on live TV?

They lose their minds.

[superblysubpar]

series masterlist | part two ->

chapter summary: A bet is proposed.

the song: honey by halsey

2,563 words | please see the masterlist for general warnings | my blog is 18+

Hawkins, Indiana - the past

  Your fingers tightened around the handlebars, palms damp and grip too loose for your liking. A deep furrow seems permanent between your brows, resting under the cherry red plastic that brought you into this mess. Their words ringing in your ears like a jingle of a commercial - annoying and unable to ignore if you tried. 

  “What a girl - she needs a helmet to ride a bike?”

  And if that comment alone wasn’t bad enough, Steve Harrington had to chime in. Leaning over his own handlebars, smirking, daring you to challenge him. 

  “What you need it for anyways? Not like you were planning to go down the destroyer. Bet you were just going to Benny’s for ice cream.”

  The other boys had snickered, Steve’s smirk grew into a full wattage, cocky, grin. That is until you lifted your chin, kicked up dust directly at him as you turned your bike and said: 

  “Cute you still call it the destroyer. I’ve been biking down that hill for years. How about I show you and buy you an ice cream cone afterwards Harrington?”

  Boys ‘oo’ed’, Steve’s jaw clenched, and your chest filled with some sort of powerful and addicting feeling as you biked towards your lie. 

  Which now sits in front of you. The legend so aptly named by the Hawkins population of thirteen and under due to it’s sheer height and the gravel that sat below it. A hill way out near the Quarry, it took half the day to bike there and back - if you still had your bike after that is. It was the tallest point in Hawkins aside from a grassy hill teens would sneak away to. 

  From the top of the destroyer, you could see the whole town, all the way down to the bottom of the Quarry, the road, and where it turned to gravel to lead to the sort of landing at the base of the pit. 

  It was the point the hill turned to gravel that truly gave the bike killer its name. If one somehow got the courage, or in your case straight up stupidity and false confidence for brains, to decide to go down the hill, your speed by the time you reached the bottom would be too much and the gravel was a relentless enemy. 

  You’d heard stories of bikes skidding, of scratched up, bruised limbs. There was even a tale of one boy who toppled over his handlebars and popped his shoulder out of place. 

  And you’d told Steve Harrington you’d been going down it for years. 

  “Hey.”

  His voice was far quieter than you were used to hearing, like he wanted you to have to lean in and listen to what he was about to tell you. 

  When you turned to tell him you didn’t care for what he had to say, you were shocked to find his cheek pulled between his teeth, wavy hair pushed up at odd angles like he’d run his hands through it a few too many times. Steve wrapped his fingers around his own handlebars tighter, like if his grip was strong enough, yours would be too, straddling his bike next to yours and gulping as he looked down the hill. 

  “What?” You finally asked, fingers toying with the straps of your helmet. 

  “I don’t think you should do this…” 

  As the boys whispered behind you, you frowned and didn’t dare think about how Steve’s voice wobbled a little, like there was some real emotion behind the warning. 

  Like he cared. 

  “I’m truly touched you were able to scrounge up enough brain cells to force a thought, but I have never and will never care what you think Steve Harrington.”

  That same swelling feeling of triumph filled your chest when the other boys laughed and Steve’s ears started to turn as red as your helmet. 

  Steve ignored the laughing, voice a twinge stronger than before as he said, “You’re gonna get hurt.”

  “I’ve done this hundreds of-“

  Steve said your last name, grabbed your handlebars. His golden eyes burning with something as he practically begged you to listen to what he was trying to say.

  “You’re being stupid.”

  From this close, you could see more freckles along the bridge of his nose, see that his eyes weren’t brown but had a little green in them. You could smell lemonade and sunblock and something about it all made you panic. Made you push him off and add extra bite to your tone, hoping your words stung him.  

  “Yeah? Well, you’d know all about stupid, Harrington.”

  And then you pushed off, the call of your name drowned out by the wind rushing past your ears. 

  Hawkins, Indiana - the present

  Your eyes roll almost in time with Harrison Ford’s. A man who’s currently on the suspended screens because he has some weird thing about a movie with him being on while he’s flirting. Like Harrison’s energy is in the store with him, a guiding wingman. 

  What a tool. 

  Eddie’s lips quirk up in a lopsided smirk across from you when your shoulders tense at the shrill giggle to your left. You roll them back, then your head from side to side. Your fingers meet to form the goal post again, elbows sticking to laminated sheets screaming about summer deals and most definitely some sort of residual soda spill.

  “So,” a deeper voice than what you know it to typically sound like catches the tail end of the giggle, “If I were to call this number right now-“

  “I’m not home, silly,” another forced giggle interrupts. 

  Eddie sighs when you straighten up again, your teeth snapping at a red vine as you watch the hand reach forward and tuck a perfect blonde ringlet behind an ear, then linger. 

  “Well,” he leans in, voice stickier than the honey of his eyes, “If you were home…I’d call you.” He taps the tip of her nose with the pad of a finger, then flashes a smile brighter than the overhead fluorescents. “And ask you if you’d be free for a movie tonight?”

  Robin snorts next to your ankle behind the counter. Green vest covered shoulders rising as they shake with somewhat silent laughter and her head hides between her knees, tapes scattered on the floor around her. 

  Your head shakes back and forth in baffled amazement. It’s like an accident - you can’t help but watch  the wreck that’s about to-

  “And if I were home to answer, I’d tell you to pick me up at 7.” 

  The red vine falls from your mouth onto the counter, as you watch a little piece of paper leave manicured fingers and slip into the front pocket of his gray polo.

  A paper football smacks your nose as Eddie sighs out of his. As her hips sway under tight denim, haloed by the bright sunshine when the trill of the door chimes on her exit, the overpowering scent of vanilla and peaches continues to suffocate. 

  Steve Harrington turns to you all with a cocky grin. He pulls the digits scrawled in loopy font out of his pocket and nestles it between brown leather and green bills before returning the wallet to his back pocket with a pleased sigh. 

  “Oh yeah, I’m back.”

  And then he high fives the TV.

  Not just a tool - a whole box of them.  

  Steve turns when you snort, eyebrows raised at you as he takes his place behind the counter again. 

  “Something funny?” He asks, reaching toward your box of red vines. 

  “Real funny,” you admit, snatching them closer, “That you think anything about that interaction means you’re back.”

  Your waist hits the counter as you step out of his reach when he takes another forward with a tilted head. His fingers just miss the red candy when he huffs. 

  “Enlighten me, babe.”

  “Don’t,” you hiss, “Call me babe.”

  The counter digs into your back, Steve leans in closer, mint and cedar beginning to overpower the peaches, and you hate that you don’t mind the difference. 

  Steve’s lips smirk, a freckle just above his top one lifting as he tsks, “Wow. Not gonna even acknowledge my big brain word?”

  “Would you like a round of applause, Harrington, for correctly using the word enlighten?” 

  He grins, he nods, his fingers snatch a piece of the licorice up, “Yeah. Yeah I would.”

  You catch the end of the candy, shaking your head with a scoff. “She called you big boy.”

  Robin, whom you don’t want to admit you’d forgotten was even behind the counter with you, sighs, loudly.

  “Wow. Thanks. I had just forgotten.”

  Steve tugs on the candy between the two of you with raised eyebrows and a look of annoyance. “And?”

  You tug harder, and Steve dares to take another step closer with it, knuckles brushing yours that lay limply next to thighs almost touching. 

  “And, that means you didn’t do a thing except let rumors of what’s underneath your too tight Levi’s spread like the rash you’ve probably given to half this town.”

  Another tug of the candy, though gentler this time, pulls you closer, plastic crinkling against your abdomen as he proudly whispers, “Not rumors, babe.”

  “Call me babe,” you practically growl, “One more time. See what happens.”

  “Okay,” Steve tilts his chin in a challenge, fingers twitching on the candy, “Ba-“

  The red licorice disappears with a flash of silver metal, snapped between white teeth before it’s waved around dramatically.

  “While this is super fun to watch. She’s not wrong Stevie.” Eddie shrugs. 

  Steve takes a step back, red Nike swoosh flashing as he kicks at thread bare carpet. “Sure. She’s never wrong.”

  You have to physically stop yourself from sticking your tongue out at him. 

  Eddie hoists himself up onto the counter, chain tapping and clanking against things as he gets down just as quickly he sits when you snap your fingers and point to the ground. 

  He raises his hands in surrender at you, then waves at Steve with a squint of big, brown eyes. 

  “You’re not back. You barely had to put in any work with that cutie. She was making heart eyes at you from the parking lot, man.”

  Steve holds his arms out at his sides, like he’s innocent. “Just because girl’s know I have a sizeable-“

  “Ew,” you snap another bite of candy. 

  “Appendage-” Steve continues, ignoring you. 

  “You’re sick,” Robin delivers in a monotone from her stack sorting. 

  “And they know I know what I’m doing with it,” Steve talks over Robin in their well-oiled banter, “Doesn’t mean I don’t have to work hard.” Steve dares to place his fingers over his chest and continue with pride dripping from each word, like he truly believes and is proud to say, “I still have to put in the work to look good, to flirt and think on my feet. I have to pull out the Harrington charm. It’s not my fault I have more than other guys to work with.”

  Eddie ponders what Steve is saying thoughtfully, he places his hands behind his back and paces, nodding his head carefully. 

  “Maybe so,” Eddie sighs dramatically, gesturing with a bow to Steve, “We cannot all be gifted with such well-endowment.”

  “I truly hate it here,” Robin says to the ceiling while Steve beams. 

  You tilt your head at Eddie, trying to figure out where he’s going before he gets there. 

  He slaps his hands on the counter, metal clanking against glass displaying candy as he proclaims, “I propose a challenge.”

  Steve snorts, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter next to you, his elbow nudging yours. “What, like a duel?”

  Your eyes roll as you dig your elbow into his, pushing him away. 

  “Intriguing, but maybe another time. I’m fresh out of jousting materials I’m afraid,” Eddie grins. “No, I think, to really know if you’re back, to prove this,” he waves his hands at the entirety of Steve, “All takes real work and you’re not just coasting on what the good lord gave you, you’d need to use it on someone who’s unsuspecting. Someone,” Eddie purses his lips, “Who isn’t already swooning over the mere thought of you.”

  Robin spins, blue eyes alight with intrigue. “Hold on. I’m listening.”

  Steve tilts his head, “You want me to get the number of a girl who hates me?”

  Robin grins like it’s the best things she’s ever heard, but Eddie shakes his head, tugging on a curl. “No. Too easy. I think you need to sleep with her.”

  Your mouth drops open in disbelief and Robin whistles low and slow. 

  Eddie pretends to hold up a scroll, reading from air in a theatric voice, “I, Eddie Munson, declare that Steve Harrington cannot get the next girl to walk through this door of thy Family Video to have sex with him. The rules shall be that Harrington may only pursue said girl after careful consideration of her un-swoonability by yours truly, and will have one week to prove his charming capabilities. The stakes? One hundred dollars. Does Steve Harrington accept such a bet?”

  You scoff, “You’re both not actually making a bet on-“

  Steve’s hand slaps into Eddie’s, both boys smirking as they shake on it. Steve waves his other hand in the air, all nonchalant while confidence oozes out of him. “Next girl that walks through that door, I’m going to fuck. Easy.”

  “Unbelievable, You’re both unbelievable.” Your words are lost on deaf, egotistical ears.

  Eddie nods, he grins with shoulders raised at Steve. “Right. Since you’re back, easy peasy.”

  “Her ass and tits will be squeez-ied.” 

  Robin boos, cupping a hand around her mouth. 

  You gesture to her, “That? That’s what you finally have a problem with?”

  Robin shrugs, grinning, “I’m off the clock in one minute. Then he’s your problem.” She looks at Eddie, “Still able to give me a ride home?”

  Eddie nods, “I am but only the ladies driver,” he turns to you with a snap, “Speaking of, think you left your vest in my van, doll.”

  “Oh shit, thanks,” you bounce around the counter as Robin heads into the back. The door chimes as you squint into the late afternoon summer sun, sneakers kicking pebbles on the way to Eddie’s van, when it hits you. Suddenly. Wonderfully. Beautifully. 

  Your vest is sitting on the counter next to your red vines. 

  You spin, gravel crunching beneath your heels as you look at the front of the store.  

  Heavy steps thud against the ground as you race towards it, meeting a frantic Steve at the set of glass double doors.

  He grips the handles, wild eyes and shaking his head no, as he holds them closed and you tug to open them, grinning. 

  Eddie bows behind Steve as Robin cackles. 

  “What’s the matter Harrington,” you call through the doors, enjoying the way his jaw pulses, “Why can’t I come inside? Enlighten me.”

  Steve’s gaze traces your face, it lingers on your smile before it meets your eyes. 

  A challenge in both sets of glares, neither of you willing to back down. 

  He let’s his hands fall from the handles and rest on his hips as the chime trills overhead with your step inside. 

  You bat your eyelashes, you press the back of your hand to your forehead and pretend to faint against the glass. 

  “Good luck, big boy.” 

Tag List - thanks for your endless patience and excitement for this, but please let me know if you'd no longer like to be tagged:

@ash5monster01 @madaboutjoe @foreverinwanderlust @the-fairy-anon @scarletwitchgf

@curlsincriminology @siriuslysmoking @redbarn1995 @starry--sarah @starksbabie

@taccobelle @angst-lasagna @blckburd @crownofdecit

[purple-goo-writes]

OMFG MY BRAIN JUST HAD THE BEST THOUGHT

PHANTOM BEING THE JL'S PROBLEM CHILD/FIRST PROTÉGÉ

like okay okay hear me out.

Danny is just starting out as Phantom when the JL is getting kicked off. This is like maybe six years before Batman even takes on Robin or something idk. But just the JL just formed they are busting their asses off getting Meta Rights when they find the Anti-Eco acts and this leads them to Phantom. Cause you know for shit that the League isn't gonna let those acts stay. Nope that shit gotta go especially so they can get Meta Rights.

One things leads to another

And somehow this leds to them all mentoring this sassy dead teen.

And Danny finds himself with a bunch of mentors and as basically the JLs test protégé. You know he is going to start a blog too as Phantom called My Life as Teen Vigilante. Which also helps said mentors down the line when more teen heroes pop up.

But also the fucking shenanigans!!!

--

Batman: Drop it

Danny: *puts kryptonite in mouth*

Batman: Damn it Danny!

Danny: *running as chews faster!*

---

Flash: Hey buddy I'm here to check-whatcha got there?

Danny: *wearing the crown of rage and star cape whilst sipping a smoothie* A smoothie

Flash: *rapidly reading through Amity News* What happened whilst we were in space?!

Danny: *slurpsss*

Flash: HOW DID NO ONE NOTICE A WHOLE TOWN DISAPPEARING?!

Danny: *big slurp*

Danny: And I'm ghost king now

Flash: YOU'RE WHAT?!

--

Canary: *trying to help danny with new powers*

JL member watching: sooo what power di he get now?

Batman: *headache brewing* he can now level a city with his voice

--

Danny getting ice powers: I am going to cause so may problems with this

Danny nearly freezing to death and causing the JL to freak out: Hello consequences to my actions

Que Batman ad Flash interrogating their ice villains on controlling ice powers cause Some How There Wasn't An Ice Hero Yet!

--

Dan Happens

Danny: Fuck what was Bats plan for evil future self?

Danny: Oh right *pulls out Fenton phone* Call Dad number 5

Batman: you forgot what rhe contingency plan for this was didn't you?

Or alternatively

Dan Happens

JL shows up after case they were off world: What happened?!

Danny: *laying exhausted in crater* Boy Do I Have A Story For You!

So on.

By the time most get their protégés, they've already had a test run with Danny, who likes to claim that he is each protégés big brother for it. The Kids love their Big Brother Danny...the JL doesn't love the new shenanigans Danny gets into with them.

In his defense, they left him unsupervised with said kids.

[creativeashproductions]

Constellations // Wally Clark

IN WHICH: reader is a secret ghost at Split River High School attached to the roof where Wally stumbles onto for solitude. With the new arrival of Maddie Nears a year later a secret comes out.

Warnings: Swearing, talk of a undisclosed medical condition, divorce, angst, and fluff

Words: 2.4k

A/N: Of course it’s a ghost show that revives this blog of writing. Am I surprised? No. Is Julie? Definitely not.

Masterlist

You’d have never anticipated the sound of Luke Bryan’s Country Girl being an okay soundtrack to watching the stars. But you’d also never expected discovering the afterlife so soon. Occasionally, you would hear a mixture of the living and the dead on the ground or through an open window, but you typically stayed on the roof.

It had been the hangout spot for the volleyball team when you were alive. The championship game had been the last time a living foot, other than maintenance, had stepped on this roof.

Most of the team had graduated, and the broken doors that couldn’t hold up against the wind were changed. So now it was only you. Reliving the excitement and stupid teenage decisions. And avoiding Mr. Martin and his afterlife support group because he was unsettling, to say the least.

 “This spot taken?” Your head lolled to the side, finding a fellow dead jock standing above you.

Wally Clark had discovered you on the fifteenth anniversary of his father’s not coming to the Homecoming game. He’d wanted a quiet place and one where Janet wouldn’t follow.

2022 Day After Homecoming Game

The door slammed from the stairwell slammed open, and the muffled sound of sniffling could be heard. Then, the shuffling of sneakers came to an abrupt stop.

“Oh. Sorry.”

Your eyes left the book in your hands to the tall teen towering over you. One of the longer-term ghosts residing at Split River High School.

 “I-I didn’t know anyone used the roof. Are you new?” 

“Nope. Been residing in the afterlife awhile now.” You responded, leaning against the roof’s edge, “Proceed for whatever you were here for.”

Whatever emotional breakdown he was about to have ceased in favour of plopping right down beside you. His head shifting more in your peripheral. He froze when your fingers stopped moving in page-turning.

“Oh, sorry.” He leaned away sheepishly, “Am I annoying you?”

Your brows furrowed, “I’ve read the book a few times. So what brings you to my humble death place.”

“You died up here? Wouldn’t we have heard about-?”

“I didn’t die up here.” You interrupted him to shift to face him fully, “You’re the guy the stadium is named after, right?”

“Wally Clark.” The ghost said, holding his hand out. You exchanged your name in response. Wally slowly repeated your name as if savouring it.

“So seriously, are you okay? You were crying-“

“I died on the football field in 1984. Last night was the first time my dad wasn’t there.” Wally breathed, tilting his head to stare at the sky, “It really hits home that time is going by, and I’m standing still.”

You nudged his knee with your own, “I’m sorry about that. You’re welcome to hang out here to get away.”

“That’d be nice. I feel like all the ghosts expect me to be the outgoing, always happy guy.”

“How was the dance?” You asked as Wally settled on the ground beside you. The ends of his white bowtie hung loosely, and his suit jacket draped across his lap.

“It’s alright. Could have been better.” He spoke, dropping his arm around your shoulders to tug you into his side, “Simon persuaded the DJ to play a couple real hits. One day I’m gonna convince you to go with me.”

Your lips twitched. It was a pastime of Wally’s trying to get you to join in with everyone, especially with the whole drama with the new girl. Thankfully he understood and respected your decision to keep away.

You hadn’t spent years in secret from the support group for no reason. Instead, you existed peacefully in their obliviousness on the roof.

“Nah, I much prefer spending time up here.” You grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Maddie settling in?”

“She’s adjusting as well as she can. Rhonda’s warming up to her. The whole thing she had with Simon is nuts still.”

Maddie Nears, aka the newbie, had shown up suddenly in the afterlife with no memory of her death. Or the events leading up. The pool of suspects is deep, and the desperation to be found alive is strong. 

As he relayed the new development, you tried to think of anything but what you had done today. How do you tell your dead boyfriend something that makes Maddie and Simon’s communication seems like child’s play?

“-What about your day?” Wally questioned, moving so you’re leaning your back against his chest. 

You sighed happily when his arms came to wrap around your shoulders and press his lips to your head. 

“I snuck down to the lost and found for a new book. Mina left a couple things for me too.” 

The friendship you had with the ghost of the stagehand mind boggled Wally. Mina hadn’t left the theatre since the stage light fell on her in the late ’80s. She was eccentric, to say the least, but the only ghost other than Wally that knew about you.

“How? She always screams at us.” Wally chuckled, “Maddie’s the first that cracked through.”

“I got her a script for a production she loves and let her direct me on her birthday.” You hummed, crossing your ankles. Your eyes flinched open in perfect sync with Wally’s tensing up.

“How did you get a script-“Wally trailed off, staring at the stars twinkling under the night sky, “Whoa, wait.”

Wally’s mind flickered to the conversation with Maddie after talking with Mina.

“There’s another ghost. Mina mentioned something about me not being the first ghost outlier. That me talking to Simon isn’t earth shattering.”

Wally’s eyes swept from Ursa Major to your e/c eyes, refusing to lock with his dark brown.

“Can you talk to the living?” Wally demanded, shifting away. The space he created cracks your heart more.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Maddie’s the only one. I can just…sorta leave the school grounds?” You trailed off with a wince. The betrayal is a wicked shattering force to your bubble with the former football player.

“…you can leave the school? And not be slammed back to where you died?!” Wally’s fists went straight into his dark strands. The hair being tugged under his stress.

“Because I didn’t technically die here. I had a health condition and was declared clinically dead a few times. So, wherever my heart stopped, and I escaped, that death destination is a place where I could go. It hurts.”

Wally scoffed, blinking, “We spent the last year, and you kept that a secret. You never told me anything about how you died or this huge thing for over a year. I’ve told you everything.”

Your lips parted to respond, but the door was already slamming behind Wally on his descent back into the building. His long legs eating up half the stairwell by the time you’d opened the door.

“Wally! Wally, wait!” You shouted, sprinting down the stairs, “I swear I was going to tell you!”

The expression on his face was enough to freeze you on the last step, “Don’t you have another place to haunt.”

Your mouth dropped open, watching him disappear in the sea of living students still on school grounds. Your eyes find the blue irises of Maddie Nears. Surprise lighting up in her gaze. Your expression twisted before turning on your heel to flee the area.

The last thing you wanted was to talk with the girl you were assigned to show around on her first day. Stupid school tradition pairing a senior with a freshman.

“Hey!”

Maddie popped around the corner to a dead end where you were nowhere to be found. Instead, you’d slipped into a space where you popped up in a different area of Split River with a sheer scream at the pain.

The fight with Wally kept you from returning to the school grounds. You didn’t know a particular ghost was spending hours on the roof anxiously waiting for you. Instead, you were watching your half-sister playing with her Barbie doll in the backyard of your childhood home.

Your arms tugged your legs to your chest. You rarely visited your family home since you watched the paramedics had arrived at 3am four years ago to remove your corpse from the house. 

“Ava!” 

Your head watched the little girl with piggy tails perk up, hearing your shared father’s voice. Your eyes take in the person you miss most in the world. It always hurt seeing the dimness your death had caused in his eyes.

The streaks of grey in his hair and beard showed the grief of losing you had caused. The guilt he barely masked from your sister. 

“Daddy!” Ava beamed, diving into his arms, “Are we taking Sissy flowers?”

Your lip quivered, hearing the adoration coating each word Ava spoke with that lisp. Speech therapy and growing up making the lisp less pronounced. Ava had barely been two when you died. 

The product of your father finding love again with a wonderful person who loved you and happily stepped into a parent role. You’d lucked out with getting a really great step-parent and a half-sister but a shitty hand for health.

“Absolutely. Do you think Sissy would like daisies this time?” Your grin grew, listening to Ava burst into excitement. 

You watched as the car disappeared around the corner before entering the house. Your room barely had any dust from Riley’s insistence on keeping it clean. Sometimes Ava would toddle in with a toy and curl in your bed to sleep.

Your clothing is still hung in the closet, your computer on your desk and all your pictures on the corkboard. Your phone was already safely tucked in your pocket with the charging cord in your backpack from the first visit back to the house.

The last time you visited your home was Ava’s birthday a few months ago. Long enough, the air freshener in your room had changed to the scent you loved during springtime. So it was time to rotate out a few items of clothing you wore. 

Your eyes lingered on the picture of your volleyball team wearing matching homemade t-shirts. A year after you died, they got together for a volleyball charity event in your name. Last you heard, two of them had become nurses, and one was on the career path to research your condition.

The following photo was of your mom holding you in her arms with a beaming grin matching yours. You hoped the move to Hawaii brought that smile back. You hoped Matthew was everything she deserved. You hoped she learnt how to live life again. 

“I miss you.” You murmured, pressing your fingers against her smiling face. 

The tears obscured your vision and the pacing form of your boyfriend when you opened the rooftop door. Your breathing gasping when his arms wrapped tight around your body.

“I am so sorry.” Wally mumbled in the crook of your neck, “Where were you? I’ve been up here for the last three days.”

“I went home.” You whispered, pressing your forehead to his chest, “I-I don’t leave often. It hurts when I leave a place I died, like the universe or some bullshit forgets this isn’t the only place I died. So it’s like I’m gonna be spit out back in my death place here before I’m in my destination.”

You barely noticed when Wally tugged you to sit in the same spot he first met and talked to you. The roof’s gravel gives the feeling of digging in your jeans; you gave up trying to explain the metaphysical world a year after your death. Instead, Wally listened as you opened up the pieces of yourself you had kept to yourself.

“I was born healthy and lived healthily for a few years before I started getting sick. It broke my parents’ hearts. By the time I was sixteen, I had spent half my life in hospitals and doctors’ offices. Promises of working treatments and possibly experimental trials.” Your gaze stared off into the distance, “It was just noise by the time I graduated. I knew my body had a couple more miles before it would give out.”

“How are you….”

“I collapsed in the gym. I was clinically dead for a minute, but it was enough for this school to be a death destination. The mall once, the hospital twice, and the talk of transplants came around. Finally, I died in my backyard. It was late, and I was alone outside.”

You vividly remembered screaming beside your corpse. Sobbing when you heard your dad break down, cradling you in his arms. Him calling you your childhood nickname and the one you heard in home videos of ‘baby girl’.

“That’s why you love the roof so much. You died watching the stars.” Wally whispered, tilting his head to kiss your temple. His fingers toying with the sweater with the volleyball team logo.

“I did.” You chuckled, “I have a little sister named Ava. She’s five now. She has minimal memories of me, but her favourite thing is bringing flowers to my grave. This past visit was daisies. My dad remarried when I was in middle school, and my mom a couple years before I died.”

“Your parents still live in Split River?”

“My dad and Riley live in my childhood home with Ava. I think they’re talking about maybe having another baby. My mom took my death the worst. Her older brother died in 1995 with his band members. My mom moved to Hawaii with her husband. Split River had too many memories for her. So when Matt was offered a job there, they left.”

“Ava.” Wally hummed, “I like that name.”

“Maddie knew me.” You offered after laying with Wally for a while in comfortable silence. His fingers draw shapes on your bare back under the sweater. His fingers briefly halted before moving again, “When you were alive, did Split River do this thing where a senior was paired with a freshman?”

“Oh yeah. I got paired up with this insanely smart guy. He went on to found this hugely popular website like that Facebook you showed me.”

“Myspace? You got paired with one of the founders?” You spoke, blinking at his grin, “Well, when I was a senior, I got paired with Maddie. Before her dad died, he worked with mine. So, I knew her at work BBQs.”

“Speaking about Maddie…do you want to re-meet her and meet my friends?”

Your eyes narrowed, “This is dues for keeping the secret.”

“Oh, 100%. Secret stays between us, but yeah, you’re definitely meeting my friends. You should check out the support group, Mr. M isn't too bad.”

Tag List:

@websterssrss

[thechekhov]

Hey Chekhov! How do you start converting an AU idea from character sheets and mini comics into a plot outline for a full, continuous comic? Especially if the series you're basing it on isn't complete?

I've been following your white diamond Steven comics for years, and frankly, I love how it builds and continues the scaffolding canon laid to be something that is thematically still the same but also very unique. And I never thought I'll ever say this, but now I'm working on a canon-divergent AU with someone that's I think aiming to do something similar(continue the themes of canon but different). So I'll just like some advice, I suppose!

You might've answered something like this before, honestly, but I tried to dig a little and couldn't really find it.

Thanks, if you do answer this! I just want take the opportunity as well to say also that your comic and blog accompanied me through parts of my late teens, and I'm very grateful for you being a stabilizing influence during that time.

Thank you! I really appreciate you saying that, and I appreciate you respecting me enough to ask for advice.

As for your question...

Well, to be frank, I don't START with character sheets and mini-comics. In fact, for WD!AU, I didn't have any character sheets until I started season 2.

Think of your story as an aquarium. Your characters are fish.

Yes, they're important, but having a whole bunch of fish without any substrate, tanks, feed and WATER..... will not really make for a memorable aquarium experience.

The reality is that all stories should start with an end.

That's my personal approach, anyway.

What I mean is - you need to know the general idea for your story before you begin to write or plan it.

Let's try this:

1.Tell me about your story in THREE sentences!

Just three. Not long ones, just regular ones.

For my AU, @ask-whitepearl-and-steven, it would be:

"A young orphan runs away from home with a mysterious lady who seems more cryptid than human. He realizes that he's not human either - he used to be the ruler of an alien planet! He and the other aliens he meets decide to (REDACTED) (REDACTED) (REDACTED) and he (REDACTED) (REDACTED) (READACTED) (READ ANDCTED) (READ AND FIND OUT)."

YOU should know how YOUR story ends too! Even vaguely.

It helps if you know at what point you plan to lay down the pencil. Because if you DO know, you are always going to know which direction to walk in, even if the end is so far away it's beyond your line of sight.

It's true that when I began WDAU, I didn't have much information about White Diamond and white Pearl, because they had literally ONLY been introduced. I had to guess a lot of the details (like WP being Pink's originally) and what White would be capable of. And thankfully, my original intent for the story's end fit pretty well with what was later revealed!

But don't forget - you could also just fuck around with stuff! It's your story, after all.

And don't forget... to also look back!

2.Tell me WHY the story is happening in the first place.

There's a reason that the beginning of your story happens when it does. If there is no reason to start somewhere, then find a different place to start.

You should be able to tell me "We're picking up the story here because something significant has happened... and that significant thing happened BECAUSE...."

That 'because' is your main background information that should be revealed slowly throughout the story. In WDAU's case, we only have a few pieces of the puzzle. We know Greg's side. He know Earl's side. But there are still little bits and pieces missing! And they're all important for finding out WHY Steven ended up an orphan and WHY he is being followed by White Pearl (Earl) at the very start of the comic!

3.Tell me what the coolest and most interesting things to happen would be....and then write them!

I think this may be something that's rarely said out loud, but I will speak on the behalf of the people...

We should write the scenes we want to read. If you don't want to read the scene you're writing, then DON'T write it!

If you feel like you "have to" do a page and a half of 'lore' because you think it's traditional to have that 'explanation' about the location of your story, or the history of the species or whatever, you're simply wrong. There are other ways to reveal information aside from just forced paragraphs upon paragraphs of information that would make an SAT Reading Section sweat.

Instead, I recommend that you find the most exciting or hilarious way for the characters to discover the most important bits of info. Find a dramatic twist. Shove it into the narrative. Then, figure out what needs to happen to get there.

Ultimately, though, remember this: When you're taking advice from me or from others, don't forget to take advice from yourself, too! It's your story, after all. You know it best, and only YOU can figure out how to get it written.

I hope that helps at least a little bit! Writing it never easy, but it should still be enjoyable!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

too many teens whining for validation, this blog needs more weird and stupid so...

AITA for kidnapping my friend and trapping her in the cheesebarn?

Hear me out:

The story starts about a week before my (20 at the time ftm) 21st birthday. If you live in the US you know this isnt just some lame 7th birthday or 36th birthday, this is one of the big boy birthdays, the special ones. Its when you can legal buy alcohol and are therefore truly an adult in the eyes of the law.

Naturally my friends (20s) wanted to do something Big for our 21sts. So they asked me what i wanted to do and i said i didnt really care as long as I got a road trip somewhere with friends.

Everyone thought it was a fun idea but it was a little short notice for everyone to get time off from work, but my other friend we will call C also had her 21st exactly a month after mine to the day, and the two of us agreed to share our 21sts and not do much of anything on my actual birthday. This is important, bc it was a SHARED birthday road trip.

I agree to let C pick the destination and I provide the car. We didnt have much of a plan as we were going to meet up with C's old roommate who lives in the city we picked to show us a good time.

It was 5 of us total and about a 7 hour drive altogether there with not a whole lot on the way there. We get to the city she picked and meet the roommate and honestly the rest of this part is just standard 21st birthday shenanigans. Its when we start the drive home things really start.

Remember its a long drive with not much to see? Well that was a lie. On our way back we see it, the Real "Happiest Place on Earth" as far as places with a mouse for a mascot go:

Grandpa's.

Fuckin'.

Cheesebarn.

Obviously me and the other people on the trip want to stop and see the magic, but unfucking fortunately C happens to be the only Basic White Girl ™️ in the entire world who hates cheese and isnt even lactose intolerant. This girl is notorious for making "petty" and "I hate Cheese" her entire personality. She would constantly make faces and gagging noises and talk about how gross and nasty cheese is if you so much as eat a grilt cheese near her.

Clearly she made it known that she wasnt on board with it. "NO! FUCK YOU ALL IM NOT GOING TO A PLACE CALLED A CHEESEBARN ON MY BIRTHDAY!!" were her exact words.

But i remembered i was driving, it was my car, and it was supposed to be my birthday too. So I put it to a vote. "Raise your hand if you wanna go to Grandpa's Cheesebarn!"

All hands raise but one. With C out voted we head to the cheesebarn.

Guys. This place is amazing. Its obviously making cheese its main draw, but yhere's so much more, its every shitty midwest tourist trap rolled into one glorious place. There's even a chocolate shop. We even got C's roommate to ditch work and come meet us bc shr heard "Grandpa's Cheesebarn" and knew she had to drop everything.

All in all a good visit, C even seemed like she had fun once we got there (she sure spent $300 on candies and dip mixes anyway). We go home. Things seem fine.

Then C drops off the face of the earth.

She wont respond to our calls or texts and at first we thought maybe she was giing through a rough patch or something and try to just keep reaching out but give her space. But then we find out that not only is she still hanging our with our other friends who couldnt make the trip with us. So clearly she's just pissed at us about something.

Finally one day a few months later i catch her at her job and just tell her "I dont care if you hate us, we'll never speak to you again if you dont want us to, but what the hell did we do to you??"

And she just looked me over and says "Well. You kidnapped me."

lolwut

And she yells (bc this girl loves yelling at people) "YOU KIDNAPPED ME AND TRAPPED ME AT A CHEESEBARN ON. MY. BIRTHDAY!!!!!"

And i just said "Well it was my birthday too," and havent spoken to her since. Its been over a decade and "No ragrets" as we said back in the day, but uts baffled me for years that that was her reaction. "Im just over you guys" i can understand, and its not like she was shy about telling people she hates them and their out of her life ever before. And from what i ended up hearing from our other friends she kept talking with it really was about the cheesebarn and how we "ruined her birthday".

No but srsly AITA??? For making her go to a cheesebarn???

What are these acronyms?

[eddiexmunsonlover-archive]

One Step Away From You Masterlist

(Eddie Munson x Plus Size!Fem!Reader/You)

A Best Friends to Enemies to Best Friends to Lovers Slow Burn fic.

Follow my new blog for future chapters & fics @eddiexmunsonlover

Series Spotify Playlist

Chapters:

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17

You move back to Hawkins after 3 years away to finish out your senior year. Can you salvage the friendship you once had with your ex best friend, Eddie? Will you be able to push down your deeper feelings for him, or will it all come bubbling out in disaster?

Author's blurb/Fic Warnings: Eddie and Reader are both flawed, traumatized babies but they're trying their best! Y/N will only be used in dialogue, and I'll try my best to keep it at a minimum. The events of Eddie's Flight of Icarus book is canon, but you don't need to have necessarily read it to read this fic (relevant parts will be mentioned and explained). There is no upside down in this fic universe. Friendships outside of Eddie with Steve, Robin, and the younger kids will be relevant and explored. Fic will contain mentions of toxic family relationships, substance use (cigarettes, weed, alcohol), mental health struggles (anxiety, depression, etc.), and some fatphobia/insecurities and bullying. Reader is plus sized and overall comfortable/confident in their body, but still struggles with some moments of insecurity. I will go into more detail with warnings by chapter!

Slow burn, idiots in love, mutual pining. There will be angst, but mostly fluff, and a little smut ;)

ALSO idk about y'all, but I maladaptive daydream about Eddie with music a lot, it's where I come up with most of my ideas. I have a whole Spotify playlist dedicated to it with songs from 86' and before that I'd listen to as a teen in Hawkins in 86'. SO, music will be incorporated into the fic. The fic title itself is from Shot in the Dark by Ozzy Osbourne.

If anyone is interested in being added to a taglist for each chapter, just comment, message, or send me an ask!

[scribblesofagoonerr]

Family, not by blood but by choice instead | awfc x teen!reader

I previously posted on another account, however, I didn't realise a second blog wouldn't allow me to follow people, so I am reposting again on my new one.

Let me know what you all think!

You should have known, there was tell-tail signs all throughout the last several years and yet you were so blind about it all.

Your mother was a narcissist, she was manipulative and gaslighted you your whole life, you were always made out to the bad guy and she was the victim.

It was clear as day to anyone on the outside, but your nieve self just chose to always believe different about things.

Looking back on the several years of your childhood, you had always thought you upbringing wasn't completely terrible. It was just the 2 of you, only your mum and you ever since you could remember. Your parents ended up splitting up when you were really little but ever since that day, you had always been made out to be the reason for their seperation.

You had always wonderd how it could be your fault. You was only 3 when he walked out, so how could it really be like that?

"You were always too much to handle. He couldn't cope," Your mum would say, all of them long nights when you would wrap your tiny arms around her and sob your little heart out to her.

"I'm here, you've got me. You've only ever got me," Her words were embedded in your head from the day that you'd decided to try and have an open conversation about the possibility of finding your dad. "Why go and find him? Haven't I been good enough. I'm the one that's looked after you all of these years and this is the thanks that I get in return?" It was always something that like, always a guiltrip and it was something that she knew would work well.

The harsh statement of the most recent conversation with the older woman left a bitter taste in your mouth and make you question every single thing in life.

"Aren't you happy for me? I made it, mum!" You exclaimed, you were happy enough to want to share the news with your mum but you found so dumbfound by her response which left you feeling shame and judgement for even wanting to tell her.

"Yes you have made it Y/N but you know, you only have me to thank for that now, don't you?" Your mum once again found a way to make it about herself, regardless of the situation;  It was always and only ever about her. "I'm sure that you can find some way to thank me though. All of those years and the amount I have spent on football boots for you. You'd be nowhere if it wasn't for me and I think you owe me now, don't you?" she told you.

You remember feeling stunned by her words, there was a lot of emotions that you had felt building up inside as you were ultimately confused how she'd somehow managed to twist this to make it all about herself but of course she was quick enough to make an excuse to end the call when she grew bored of talking to you.

You should have knew better, every phone call always ended up being the same way and it always left you with a feeling of guilt for making a life for yourself and that phone call that night wasn't any different. You had just been so excited to spill the news, however that excitment soon faded and was replaced by confused feelings of upset and anger once you'd told her, you fought to hold in your tears during the initial phone call but you were on the verge of breaking by the time she had hung up.

That phone call was the one you told her about making it into the national team, you had only been a part of Arsenal womens' first team for under a year and it felt like a massive achievement to be selected to represent your country and immediately you couldn't wait to share the news with your mum - You thought that she'd be pleased for you but you couldn't be further away from the truth.

Ever since that phone call, you had tried your hardest to distance yourself from your mum but it hurt to do that. The women was the only blood related family member that you had, it had only ever been the 2 of you, together through thick and thin.

Flash forward to now, the current time where you are sitting on the sofa, you had returned home after a long training session and you couldn't help but think about it that conversation on a constant loop in your head. 

"You were quiet tonight kidda," Leah perched on the arm of sofa as looked at you in concern. "I'm about to start cookin' tea. How's chicken dippers and smiley faces sound, eh?" she suggested.

"Mhm. Sure that sounds good to me," You mumbled as you kept your eyes focused on nothing but the telly.

The truth was that the conversation was constantly replaying in your head; The conversation, the bitterness and manipulation, every time you thought about it it then made you think of every other time that something like this happened.

Maybe your childhood wasn't as great as you really thought?

"Okay then... Is there anything that you want to talk about?" The blonde questioned, hoping for a bit more of an insight on your mood; Returning from her own rehab session, the entire car ride had been quiet compared to normal and the older woman couldn't help but feel something wasn't right.

"Nope," You stood firm in your reply, shaking your head as you kept your eyes glued on the TV screen; You couldn't really say that you payed much attention to whatever it was, the noise was pretty much a blur that was playing in the background.

"Are you sure?" Leah questioned, frowning worriedly as she took note of the tears welling up in your eyes. "Kidda, what's the matter? You look like you're gonna cry." she stated.

"I... I'm fine," You mumbled, fighting hard to keep the tears at bay until you could escape to your bedroom and allow yourself to be vulnerable and alone. You'd always felt complete shame to show any sort of vunterability in front of anyone, let alone the blonde footballer who'd virtually taken you under her wing ever since you joined during the transfer break of 2022.

You'd always been told that crying showed weakness and you refused to be seen as weak.

"Okay," Leah was quick to drop the subject when she realised you weren't going to open and talk about things. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it but just remember that I'm always here to listen. Anytime that you want too, alright?" she told you.

Unfortunately you were stubborn to not give in and blurt everything out in the open. You were just trying to wrap your head around the idea of things and see things for how they really were.

"Uh huh," You mumbled a response as you got up from the sofa and trudged in the direction of your bedroom.

Leah exhaled a sigh as she shook her head, herself heading into the kitchen to make a start on dinner. The woman knew better than to try and get you to talk if you didn't want too.

She'd always been around to witness the moments like this and the backlash of it. Of course the blonde knew this was all stemmed down to one person causing you to be like this and she hated that you were left upset every single time.

Every single time you and your mum fought, you'd always ended up quiet and in a bad mood, often resulting in lashing out at people around you as a coping mechanism.

None of the girls ever took it to heart, they were old enough to realise that none of your anger was directly aimed at them and there was bigger issues to be dealt with.

The Arsenal women all had their own opinions on the teens' mother but they would never voice them out loud to you. It wouldn't be fair on the youngest in the squad even after the countless times they had seen the girl upset by her own mums actions.

Ever since the teen had moved in, there had been several nights where Leah would be the one to comfort the girl and pick up the peices, waking up in the middle of the night to hear the teen's heartbroken sobs and feeling her own heart shatter every single time, wanting nothing more than take away any sort of pain the girl was experiencing.

It was heartbreaking for all of the team to witness and always sought out to comfort the teen no matter the situation. They knew that no matter they say, they couldn't stop her contacting her and she would be able to make her own decision soon enough when she turned 18 and until then they'd be the ones' to pick up the broken pieces when the mum let her daughter down.

They were your family, not by blood but by choice. You'd probably be lost without them sometimes.

"I... I should have realised sooner," You thought to yourself as you lay crumpled up on your bed that following night, it was almost near 4 in the morning and you were still wide awake with things racing through your head.

You couldn't help but think about things, how you should have noticed the tell-tail signs of her gaslighting you were old enough to properly realise, that was your first mistake.

Your second being that you believed her manipulation, she would always twist things to make her seem like the victim in all different situations - back when you were a child and even now as an adult.

How long it had taken you finally realise it after all of these years. Why hadn't you realised it sooner?

Without realising, you were sobbing aloud as you clutched on to your pillow tightly - the pent up anger was replaced by complete sadness and loss. You only ever wanted the approval of your mum about things and you fought so hard for it.

The phone call, the hopeful seal of approval...  Every time it always seemed to be the same type of emotions when you spoke to your mum - It was a vicious cycle of emotional abuse, or so you'd been told from other people and you never wanted to believe it.

Only problem was that you'd not been able to see it yourself, even if it was clear as day. Even if regardless of a psychological therapist telling you this, you refused to believe them words. Nor your team mates, who had realised it the first time they had the chance to meet her and even then you wouldn't listen or hear them out.

It was your mum, your flesh and blood so how could she be like that? You had never been able to wrap your head around it.

The sound of sobs were what woke Leah up, she was quick to pad out of her bedroom and down the hall to where your bedroom was. "Kidda?" The women pushed the door open and her heart cracked to see you looking so distraught and vulnerable.

The blonde was quick to move to be right beside you, she was always the one to comfort you and she wouldn't ever stop doing that as long as you needed her.

"Hey, kidda. Come here," The blonde scooped you up in her arms and rocked you all while she ran her slender fingers through your messy bedhead. "You're okay. I'm here," she reassured you.

Leah was always patient enough to wait for you to calm down before she gave you the chance to speak, she wouldn't ever push you to talk if you didn't want too.

"L... Le," You cried aloud as you clutched onto her. You breath became shaky as sobs wracked your body.

"I'm here, it's okay," Leah spoke calmly, continuing to try and comfort you the best way she knew but she already knew it was going to be a long night ahead of them - An emotional night that would leave you drained tomorrow.

A vicious cycle of on a loop.

"Ready to tell me what's going on inside that head of yours, huh?" The blonde tried to carefully ask.

There was another brief pause of silence, nothing but the quiet sobs coming from you as the blonde continued to comfort you and reassure you that she was here and not leaving you.

To Leah's surprise, you did open up this time around, even if you didn't mean too.

"I should have realised. I should have... I should have realised," You made the mistake to speak aloud rather than think it like you thought you had.

"You should have realised what, kidda?" Leah questioned, confused about what you meant.

You snap your head in the blondes' direction as you bit your bottom lip, debating whether to be open with your thoughts that you tried so hard to keep buried inside.

"About my mum... I should have realised," You repeated your words as you fought the tears from spilling. "She's so... She's so-- Why does everything I tell her, why does it always get turned back around so it's about her?" That was it. You blurted out your own feelings - There was no hiding how you felt anymore.

Leah smiled sympathetically and moved onto the sofa to sit closer to you, wrapping her free arm around your shoulder to comfort you, "I... I don't know kidda," she spoke honestly.

"So many people, so many people have told me-- They've warned me about her but I have... I never wanted to listen," You confessed, the tears openly rolled down your cheeks and you probably looked a right blubbering mess but you couldn't stop your emotions pouring out. "And now... Now I finally realise how it's always been. Why is she like that, Le?" You asked.

"I can't say I know the answer to that one kidda, I wish I knew," Leah replied, exhaling a sigh as she couldn't fathem herself how a mother could be like that with her own child, she felt so much for the girl and always wished she could make the situation better for her. "Listen, I know it's hard but you've got us. All of us girls here at Arsenal and you're so loved by all of us." she told you.

"I... I just want her to love me, and she just... she doesn't even care about my feelings!" You stated, roughly wiping at your tear stained cheeks angrily to the point that you made them red. "Why does she always throw everything back in my face? Everything that I have ever done, she's always made it about her... Always!" you cried.

"I know, I know it hurts... I know it does," You kept your head buried in the blondes' chest as you hiccuped from the sudden breakdown in the middle of the night. "And I am sorry that you have to go through this. It's not fair on you kidda." Leah added, biting her bottom lip.

All of emotion had led you feeling exhausted in the end, you fought it hard to keep your eyes open as you lay slumped against the blonde woman.

"Come on let's get you back into bed, yeah? I mean you're almost falling asleep on me here, kidda," Leah joked with you, hoping for you to even crack a small smile as she gently moved you back to your bed and tucked you in under the duvet. "I'm so sorry you have had to deal with the kidda but you know you have a family here with us. We may not be blood but we really love you kidda." You heard the faint words spoken to you as you felt your eye lids close, completely warn out.

Sure, the Arsenal women weren't family by blood but instead they were family by choice and that was more important. They were there for you whenever you needed them and you knew you felt safe with them around. You truly felt happy with your chosen family.

[michwritesstuff]

It’s Not All In Your Head (Teen Wolf: Stiles Stilinski)

I KNOW THIS IS KIND OF A DYING FANDOM SO IF YOU LIKE THIS PLEASE REBLOG/SHARE/LIKE!! IM CURRENTLY REWATCHING SO IM FEELING QUITE INSPIRED BY THESE CHARACTERS!

this was formerly posted on my blog as “Unexpected” with a 1.5k word count, but I wrote it over two years ago and wanted to rewrite some things and add some more plot. So this really is a different story now, deserving of a new title and song that fits the vibe

pairing: female reader (she/her) x Stiles Stilinski

summary: When you find yourself mixed up in the mysterious supernatural world of Beacon Hills, a town you’ve grown up in your whole life, you find an unlikely ally in the form of Stiles Stilinski. The boy you’ve despised and admired for the last half of your life.

notes/warnings: small mentions of familial death, mention of dead body

word count: 3.3k

Getting out of bed this morning was rough.

Head rushing and pounding with the adrenaline from the night before.

It couldn’t be, right?

Everything you experienced last night wasn’t real, or at least that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

You couldn’t explain how you ended up in the woods in the middle of the night.

Hearing voices in your head, it was almost as if you had been summoned there.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

This was the second time in your life that you couldn’t push the voices away.

It had only happened once before this, right before your grandmother passed.

She had been in hospice for the last few months and hadn’t been doing well.

You begged your mom to let you skip school that day to visit her, but she insisted that the last time she had spoken to the nurse, everything was fine.

You got called out of class early that day, your mother rushing you over to the nursing home so that your grandmother would be surrounded by family in her last moments.

Neither of you had brought up how you somehow knew you needed to be there, but the coincidence never left your mind.

Tonight felt like that day from a few months ago.

As you sat at your desk doing homework you could hear distant muffled voices, the words weren’t clear, but they started getting louder.

You huffed, pushing your chair back as you got up.

Walking down the hallway you expected to turn the corner and see your younger brother blasting the tv at the highest volume, but you were met with the deafening silence of the dark and empty living room.

The voices continued as you wandered around the house, growing louder as you followed them outside into the back yard.

You looked back at your house before sneaking out the side gate.

The streets were empty as you walked down the sidewalk, making left and right turns when they felt right.

It wasn’t until you reached the entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve that you snapped back to reality and truly took in your surroundings.

You barely enjoyed running through here when it was cross country season, you certainly wouldn’t have chosen to come here in the middle of the night.                                                

Walking further into the woods, you reached a small clearing.

A large wood trunk sat in the middle of the clearing, a sizeable figure laying on top of it.

As you got closer you began to make out shapes; an arm, a leg, it was a body.

You stopped a few feet short of the stump, your eyes widening in horror as they focused in on the lifeless eyes of the body before you.

It was a dead body.

You couldn’t do anything but scream at the top of your lungs.

The murmured voices quickly stopped and were soon replaced by a different set of voices.

They grew louder as did the footsteps as they approached.

 “Y/N!” Scott and Lydia exclaimed at the same time.

You turned around quickly, fear painted on your features as you attempted to speak.

“I—I don’t…”

Lydia stepped forward, wrapping her arm around your shoulder as she walked you away from the body.

“Y/L/N?” you heard another voice arise.

 It was the first time you really noticed that he was there.

“Stilinski,” you greeted back.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked.

“You know the usual, finding dead bodies in the woods, you?”

 Hearing his scoff, you smirked to yourself, it was so easy to rile him up.

It didn’t seem like the appropriate time to be making jokes, but with Stiles the sarcasm and witty comebacks were hard to swallow back.

It was almost refreshing to be joking with him in that moment.

Whispering among themselves, you stood quietly looking around, of course your attention still drawn to the body splayed on the trunk a few feet behind them.

Their whispering soon came to an end and Lydia and Stiles stepped forward.

Taking your arm again, Lydia turned you around so that you were now walking in the direction that you came from.

“Y/N, did you walk here?” Lydia asked concernedly.

“Yeah, I—” you were about to explain how you felt drawn here.

“…yeah” you answered quietly.

She turned her head to give Scott and Stiles a worried look.

You know what this might have looked like to your classmates.

Standing over a dead body in the middle of the woods, late at night.

“C’mon, Stiles will take us home. It’s probably not the safest idea to be out now.”

 “What about Scott?” you asked unsurely.

 “Believe me, Scott knows how to handle his own,” Stiles replied while slightly increasing his speed so that he was now walking in front of you and Lydia.

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but you chose not to ask too many questions.

As you crawled into the back of Stiles’s Jeep you didn’t know what to think.

You were terrified about the discovery you made in the woods and the unexplainable feeling that you had that could have possibly led you there.

Terrified at the thought of your classmates, also walking around the woods at the same time and seemingly not as concerned about a body as you were.

The low hum of the radio filled the awkward silence as they drove you home, only speaking up when you had to direct Stiles.

As he pulled up in front of your driveway, you quickly thanked them and got out, trying your best to get to the front door.

Stiles was quick to shut off the car and follow you.

“Y/LN!” he called.

You brushed it off as if you had not heard him, quickening your steps as you got closer.

“Y/N!” he called again.

You rounded on your feet quickly, Stiles stopping abruptly as he almost ran into you.

“What?” you exhaled tiredly, your eyes watering slightly as they met with his.

“What could you possibly say right now?” you asked.

“I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he spoke up.

“No Stiles, I am not okay. None of this is okay.”

He nodded understandingly.

He reached up slightly, so that his hand was barely hovering above your elbow.

You swore you could feel the heat radiating from his body being so close.

As you glanced down, he quickly dropped his hand back down to his side.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he stated matter of factly.

You looked back up to give him a small nod.           

He waited for you to go inside and only turned to leave when he heard the lock click.

You did not see it, but Lydia gave him a pointed look as he walked back to the car.

“Shut up,” he said as he started the jeep.

“I didn’t say anything,” Lydia smiled back.

That night you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Every time you closed your eyes you saw the lifeless eyes of the body staring back at you.

Before you knew it, sleep had consumed your whole body and your thoughts and fears of the night slowly melted away.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

*BEEP BEEP BEEP*

You quickly awoke to the sound of your alarm clock blaring.

Immediately hitting snooze, you debated skipping school all together.

It’s not like you didn’t like school, it was quite the opposite.

You were doing extremely well in all your classes, involved in every club and team you thought would make your college application stand out, and you had a great group of supportive friends.

Thinking about the possible run in with Scott or Lydia and the inevitable run in with Stiles, since you shared so many classes, was more than your anxiety allowed you to handle.

Grabbing your bag, you headed to the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar and your keys from the counter as you said goodbye to your mom.

Walking to the driver’s door you were startled when a car horn honking caught your attention.

Looking up you were shocked to see Stiles and his infamous jeep, windows down as he blocked your driveway.

 “Stilinski, get the hell out of the way. You’re going to make me late for school.”

 “Yup, that’s the plan. Get in Y/L/N,” he replied.

Rolling your eyes, you walked over to his car. He nodded at you to get in.

You stood, looking unamused.

He huffed before getting out the driver’s side and walking around the front of the car.

He brushed past you, opening the passenger door, his eyes silently pleading with you to get in.

“Okay, okay!” you exclaimed, climbing into the passenger seat.

The radio was low, and you quietly hummed along as you passed the houses on your street.

After a few wrong turns you had finally turned to Stiles,

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“I thought you were taking me to school,” you huffed, annoyance clear in your voice.

“I never said that, I said I was going to make you late,” Stiles replied, an attitude in his voice similar to yours.

Rolling your eyes, you turned in your seat, resuming the activity of watching the world outside the car window quickly pass.

After about another 10 minutes you had pulled into a driveway of a cute looking house.

“Is this your house?” you asked confused.

“Yeah, now c’mon,” he answered, quickly turning off the car and getting out.

You followed him into the house and to his room.

Your eyes scanned his room, blue walls littered with posters and clothes thrown on the floor with little regard.

Typical, you thought to yourself.

If you looked under the bed you were sure you would probably find playboy magazines covered in some sort of body fluid.

You shivered at the thought.

What was strange was the wall by his desk.

Red yarn creating a maze as it led from one photo to another. Confusing words and maps printed alongside.

You watched as Stiles threw his backpack onto the chair.

“Don’t worry my dad isn’t home, so no one will interrupt us.”

You gave him a surprised and teasing look, insinuating that his words were some sort of innuendo, before he quickly spoke again.

 “Jesus Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that.”

 You chuckled softly, before letting your eyes roam around some more.

“I just meant, there’s some things I need to ask you about, you know, about last night?” he continued.

Stiles noticed you visibly harden at the mention of last night.

He knew why Scott and them were there.

But you?

That was a question still left unanswered.

 Taking a seat on his bed, you sighed.

“What were you doing in the woods Y/N?” he asked more directly.

“I honestly don’t know,” you said unconvincingly.

 “I mean, I could be asking you the same thing. Your dad’s the Sheriff, right? I wonder what he would have to say about you and your friends hanging around dead bodies in the woods.”

This caught Stiles’s attention.

“Ok, let’s not get crazy. And don’t forget, we found you over the dead body,” he reminded you.

“And what exactly were the three of you doing out there? Taking a late-night stroll in the moonlight,” you remarked accusingly.

 “Listen Y/N. This is serious, there’s a lot going on in Beacon Hills. A lot that I can’t really explain right now. So please, let’s try and be honest with one another.”

“I don’t know how to be honest without sounding absolutely crazy,” you confessed.

“I promise you, nothing that you say to me right now will sound crazy. Just try me,” he smiled reassuringly.

He kneeled in front of you, now at eye level as you slowly nodded.

“Well, like you said, there’s a lot that can’t be explained, and I can’t really explain what happened. I was at home all night when I started hearing these voices—I.”

Stiles grabbed your hand as you stuttered, a silent comfort urging you to continue.

“It was like they were calling me. I mean I’ve heard voices before, they’re always different. Most of the time I can convince myself that I’m just imagining things, but this time was different. This time they wouldn’t stop. So, I just walked and walked, and next thing I knew I was in the woods and the voices had stopped. And that’s when I ran into you guys,” you said, finishing your account of events.

Stiles seemed less surprised and confused than you had thought he would.

“Y/N, do you know what this means!” he said, realization settling in his eyes as he started piecing things together.

You got up quickly, dropping his hand as you began pacing his room, the fear and confusion of the night before flooding back.

“No, Stiles, not really. I have no idea what any of this means,” you exclaimed, the fear evident in your voice.

His eyes softened as he took in your state.

“Okay, hey! It’s ok. We’re going to figure this out. I’m going to help you figure this out.”

“Figure out what? Stiles, this really isn’t making sense,” you exclaimed as you stopped pacing to face him.

“You said you’ve heard these voices before, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, once…”

“When?”

“What?” you looked at him confusedly.

“When did you hear these voices?” he pressed.

“Right before my grandmother passed,” you confessed smally.

“This is going to sound insane,” Stiles started.

“More insane than a girl who hears voices?” you interrupted.

“I think I know what’s going on.”

He got up from the bed, motioning for you to follow him to the desk, rifling through papers and a big leather-bound book, before stopping on a page.

Across the top you read Banshee.

You had read about Banshees before when you took a dual enrollment literature and folklore class.

You looked at Stiles with an angry and pointed look.

“Stilinski what the fuck is this?”

He was taken aback by your shift in demeanor.

“Is this funny to you?”

“What? No, Y/N, just list—"

“No, this is just too much. I thought you really cared about how I was feeling and if this is just you and your friend’s idea of a twisted joke, I don’t want any part of this.”

“Y/N I CAN EXPLAIN!” he continued.

You grabbed your stuff and ran out of the room, letting your long strides carry you further and further away from Stiles’s house.

As you walked through the school parking lot, you turned to find that stupid blue jeep following behind you.

Pulling up next to you, Stiles rolled his window down.

“Y/N!”

You stopped abruptly, causing him to slam on the brakes.

“Stiles, leave me alone.”

“Please Y/N, if you won’t talk to me just, please talk to Lydia or Scott. They’ll explain everything.”

You shook your head at him before walking away.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You had gone almost the rest of the day, successfully avoiding Stiles and his friends.

There was a close call at lunch when you saw Scott and Stiles standing on opposite sides of you a few feet away. Your friend was a saving grace as she appeared next to you, demanding to know why you were so late as she yanked you away to a table across the cafeteria.

However, as you sat in AP Government, your luck was wearing thin when Stiles chose to sit right next to you.

You glanced over to him, an annoyed look covering your face. To which he gave a cocky smirk and wave.

You angled yourself slightly so that you were facing away from him while still being able to sit forward in your desk.

As your teacher began the lesson you did your best to ignore Stiles’ constant attempts to get your attention.

From excessively tapping his foot and pencil, nudging the edge of your desk with his shoe, and leaning over the aisle so that he was now in your personal space.

“Y/N, c’mon,” he pleaded quietly.

“I’m trying to learn about our constitutional right to contraceptives, shut up,” you angrily whispered back.

“Y/N—” he continued.

“STILES SHUT UP!” you exclaimed.

Your teacher fell silent as she looked up to see you and Stiles sheepishly sinking into your seats.

“Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Stilinski, am I interrupting your social time?”

“No, Mrs. Thomson,” you answered embarrassedly.

“Right, well if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to teaching. The two of you can catch up in detention.”

You groaned, turning to look at Stiles who had a satisfying grin on his lips.

After a grueling 40 more minutes, class ended, and you were reminded of your unfair punishment as you watched your classmates pack up around you.

Mrs. Thomson wrote an assignment on the board, before packing her bag to leave.

As she walked out of the class, she gave the both of you a pointed look, a silent threat that you would be in more trouble if you did not actually stay to finish the assignment.

You were surprised to find that Stiles remained silent for the first couple minutes of detention.

He seemed preoccupied with whoever he was texting.

Unfortunately, the silence was short-lived when Lydia, quickly followed by Scott and Kira, walked in.

This wasn’t just any detention; this was an ambush.

“This cannot be happening right now,” you sighed, your hands rubbing your face as Stiles chuckled.

“Brought reinforcements this time,” he joked.

Your eyes quickly darted to his, shutting him up instantly.

“Y/N—” Lydia started.

“Look, I’m not sure how you got involved with these two idiots,” you motioned to Scott and Stiles before continuing.

“But I’m not sure what else to say about last night.”

“We understand that this is confusing,” Kira spoke up.

“I really don’t know what you guys keep referring to.”

“Y/N YOU’RE A BANSHEE,” Lydia spoke next.

Your eyes widened at her statement.

“ARE YOU ALL ON DRUGS?” you exclaimed.

“Like me…you’re a banshee like me,” she finished quietly.

They must be on drugs.

“The supernatural, it exists, we exist…” Scott spoke up, looking around the group as he finished.

“We?” you questioned; confusion clearly etched on your face.

“Banshee” Lydia raised her hand, answering with a sense of confidence as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You turned to Kira, her eyes turning a fiery orange as she answered, “Kitsune, it’s from Ja—”

“Japanese culture, I know,” you quickly finished for her. Your eyes softened as you shifted your focus to Scott.

“Werewolf,” Scott answered, his eyes glowing a bright red as he looked at you.

“Okay…so, what are you, a life-sucking vampire?” you asked, turning to Stiles with a mocking grin.

“I’m—I’m nothing,” Stiles replied.

“So, the body in the woods? They were killed by something supernatural?” you questioned.

They all nodded their heads.

“And I was called to it because, I’m a Banshee?” you tried clarifying.

“Pretty much,” Stiles replied smartly.

“And what are you guys, some sort of super squad?” you joked.

“We help people who can’t help themselves,” Scott answered earnestly.

A moment of silence passed over the group as they allowed you to process all the new information you had learned.

“Can I drive you home?” Stiles asked.

You looked around before nodding, a small grin on your face before you spoke up.

“I would hope so, you kind of kidnapped me this morning.”

He rolled his eyes before letting out a genuine laugh.

“C’mon loser,” he said, as he started getting out of his seat.

“What about detention? You are the reason we got it in the first place?”

“Me? You were the one screaming in the middle of class!”

“Because you were bothering me!”

Lydia, Kira, and Scott looked to one another, silently agreeing to leave the two of you to figure it out.

There was a lot you didn’t know about the supernatural world in Beacon Hills, but what you did know was that you now had a group of people committed to helping you figure it out.

check out the rest of my stuff here

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC x DP fic idea: Love Among Fans

Damian Wayne would be the first to admit he had difficulty connecting to others his age. The only thing he knew well was the unforgiving bloodlust of battle and while that helped him fight as Robin it didn't mean it made a well liked Robin.

Civilians flinched away from him, and Police officers stood weary around him. He cares not for the crooks' opinion of him, but he knew it is low.

Worse, other teenage heroes didn't like him around. The Teen Titans had rejected his membership after the three months trial run. Young Justice made excuses after the first two. Even the Outlaws said he was too much to be around, and Todd ran that one.

Of course, his brothers did their best to let him down gently but they could not force the rest of their teams to accept him.

That's why Jon meant so much to him. His best friend had been displeased initially with Damian's behavior, but he had been willing to still get to know him.

Jon had the patience of a Saint. He discovered what worked for Damian and how to help him breach the gaps between them. Damian knew little of what he had missed as a kid, but Jon never made him feel less for it. He carefully explained, opening his world to wondrous new things and Damian tried them all because Jon asked him to.

There was very little he wouldn't do for Jon.

"Have you ever read fanfiction?'" Jon asked one afternoon in the Kryptonian's room.

"No." He grunts, knowing the other wouldn't take offense to the short reply.

Jon smiles, pushing the tablet he had been scrolling on. "You should! This is my current favorite. It's about the show Space Ninjas, you like."

Damian appreciated the show's art and animation, so he took the tablet and clicked on the first chapter. Jon pulled out his phone, and got comfortable on his bed as Damian read.

And read and read and read.

Three days later, he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, unsure how to deal with real life until the author posted another chapter. He been texting Jon about the story and hosting over amazing character interpretation, theories on what the upcoming twist would be and just about how amazing this piece of art is.

Jon sent back multiple reaction gifs and links to the author's blog, where fans had posted art of the fic. Damian scrolled through them, amazed by how well every piece was, and his eyes caught the drawing Tabet Drake given him a year ago that he had ignored for his paints.

After a moment of thinking, he picked it up, hooked up his computer, and tried to draw the one scene that made the whole fic his newest obsession.

It took three days before he was satisfied with the results. He showed Jon who gushed over it for hours. He convinced him to open a blog to post it and when Damian couldn't bring himself to, Jon tagged the writer in it.

The writer sent him a heartfelt message equally moved by his drawings as Damian was by his writing.

It was the start of his second friendship.

Over time Damian drew more and more. His fanart blog grew in followers as his skills sharpened with practice. He made more pieces of other fanfiction he read, but he always fell back to making unique fan art for GlaxeyAstronaut.

He and GlaxeyAstronaut chatted for years. He didn't know his real name- he could find it easily enough with the Batcomputer but felt it would ruin things if he did- but he knew about him. His online friend was the same age as, Damian, who identified as male, had an older sister and two scientist parents, lived Minnesota and dreamed of being a astronaut.

Damian likewise told him things about himself, mindful never of revealing anything that could pinpoint him a Wayne. And that's how their relationship was for two years.

The writer and his artist.

At one point, Jon had pointed out that Damian messaged GlaxeyAstronaut daily and talked about him just as much. He pointed out how Damian's heart beat raised whenever he saw that silly icon on his notification. He pointed out how flustered he became when he read GlaxeyAstronaut's messages.

But Damian ignored him beacuse surely he was only excited to have two whole friends now.

When they turned fourteen, things changed. GlaxeyAstronaut stopped replying to his message for a week, nearly causing Damian to go find him as Robin until his friend returned to the chat room with a short "I had an accident in my parent's lab. Electric accident. It was bad. It is bad. I may not be able to get on here as much"

His friend became somewhat distant after that, replying three or four days after. Damian figured it was because he was recovering from his accident. Still he tried to be there for him and one day, almost a year after GlaxeyAstronaut's accident he received the message.

"I can't be an Astronaut. My heart will always be too slow to apply"

Damian stared at the words feeling ice cold. Being an Astronaut had always been his friend's dream since he was five, and he could point at the glowing dots to his parents on a camping trip. The fact a medical condition acquired from a lab accident ruined it just left Damain feeling cheated.

He had no idea what GlaxeyAstronaut must feel but he guess far worst.

He had sent a message asking GlaxeyAstronaut if he wanted to call him and talk about it without much thought . They had never done a voice call before, never wanting to breach that uncharted area of online and real life friendship.

But GlaxeyAstronaut agreed, and hesitantly, Damian sent him a link to a chat room with a call option.

The call connected, and the two spoke about the writer's condition how the electricity had run amok in his body, slowing his heart and killing him for a few seconds until his friends were able to bring him back using CPR.

When that became too heavy, they switched to their favorite shows, then brainstormed ideas for collaboration and everything else under the sun.

Damian felt like no time had passed when Father came to warn him to get ready to head out soon, and GlaxeyAstronaut told him he should get started on his homework anyway.

"My name is Danny, by the way," the voice from his speaker said softly. "You don't have to tell me your name. I just....thank you for listening. My best friends and sister hear me but they don't listen to what I saw about.....the accident. It means a lot to me."

"You are most welcome" He pauses for a few seconds before he tacks on "My name is Damian. It is a honor to meet you Danny"

He heard the other boy laugh before the call disconnected any Damian was left staring at his ceiling like he did three years ago.

Back then, Damian's life had changed upon discovering fanfiction and fandoms. Today his life changed upon the startling discovery that Jon had been trying to tell him since he was twelve.

He had a crush on Danny.

How would ge deal with this?

[lucozadehulahoop]

Star-crossed. Lo'ak x fem!human!reader

This was originally posted on my side blog @thankeywa. It's a brand new blog and tumblr thinks it's a bot so it's not giving it visibility. Please go give it some love, I want all my avatar!related stuff to be on there.

PART 2 HERE PART 3 HERE PART 4 HERE

I know that literally nobody asked for this, but I've noticed a disturbing lack of Lo'ak fics out there, so I've decided to give my input. I've had a story in mind for a while now, and I needed to get it out there. It will be a reader insert to make it more accessible, but it's somewhat based around an original f!character, so I apologize for that in advance if it gets too specific.

WARNINGS: Lo'ak is 20 years old in this and so is the reader, I do not write about minor characters. There will be eventual mature themes in this so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK.

For everyone else, if you like my writing, please let me know if you want to be on the tag list for future installments and SEND ME REQUESTS (head canons, imagines, sfw/nsfw, ecc.) ! I love that shit.

words: around 1.200

summary: reader is a human left behind on pandora, she grew up with the remaining humans who'd been aloud to stay on the planet after the war and has been friends with the Sully clan her entire life. She and Lo'ak were best friends until he began to pull away from her in their teen years for seemingly no reason. This story is about them reconnecting on the day of her twentieth birthday, and dealing with the feelings they have for each other and the obstacles that come with them being from two different worlds.

TW for this chapter: angst, smoking (don't do it, ever), brief mentions of alcohol, brief mention of war and death, brief mention of child birth, reader can breathe on pandora.

Y/n looked at the 'birthday cake' made out of cookie rations that Norm and Max had made for her. No matter how many years would pass, her dads always knew how to get creative.

"I'm twenty years old, you guys don't have to keep throwing me a birthday party." She reprimanded them softly, though her heart was filled with joy. Y/n was so thankful to have people in her life who cared enough to make her day special every single year.

"Considering you spent most of your early existence tied to test tubes to stay alive, we're merely celebrating the scientific marvel your continued survival has been." Norm joked, raising a beer, and y/n shoved him, before blowing out the single candle that had been meticulously re-used each year. It was a wonder how there was any wax still left on it.

"What did the birthday girl wish for?" Max asked, reaching for a dried-up cookie and cringing slightly at the taste as he chewed on it slowly. "The whole point of a birthday wish is to keep it to myself... or it won't come true. Honestly, I question your two's knowledge of Earth's traditions." y/n shook her head, before taking a celebratory sip of alcohol.

Norm and Max left eventually, back to the main base. They were more than capable of piloting a helicopter those days, and y/n was all grown up. More than capable of living by herself. What once had been an avatar lab, smack dab in the middle of the forests of Pandora, had been converted into her home. Pandora's rapidly repopulating fauna had surprisingly left her residence alone, well... mostly. There were still some creatures who couldn't help but keep themselves away. And by creatures, she meant Spider. Y/n was also friends with actual people like Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk, and... Lo'ak. Truth be told, she didn't know whether or not she and Lo'ak were even friends anymore. They'd been thick as thieves for as long as she could remember, always getting him out of trouble and fixing him up after a scuffle with his siblings. But then, around her sixteenth birthday, he'd started pulling away, and y/n had never understood why. They'd had a big fight about it, bottom line, he hadn't wanted to be around her anymore and y/n had to accept it.

"Open up! It's fucking freezing out here!" Came Spider's loud voice followed by an incessant banging on the door that immediately pulled y/n out of her reverie. "Alright, alright..." she laughed a little as she went to let them all inside. The Sullys were always insisting on spending birthdays together, even though some of them were now getting too big to even fit inside her 'home'. Neteyam had to walk around with his back bent forward, and Kiri knocked over quite a few things before they made it to y/n's main living space, which was more or less Na've-proof. "Happy birthday!" Tuk hugged her and y/n struggled not to feel crushed by the embrace. Even the littlest Sully was now nearly as tall as her.

Y/n let them all inside, already giving them dirty looks at the sight of gifts. "I told you guys not to..."

She stayed on the doorstep a little longer, gazing out into the night, desperately hoping one last uninvited guest would turn up. She felt Neteyam's hand on her shoulder. "He's not coming. I tried to talk to him but he was being a skxawng as usual..." Y/n blushed, not really wanting Neteyam to know she was pining for his younger brother. "Oh, right! I was—just checking you were all here..." she closed the door and they both went back to join the others.

___

"Alright come on, your mom is going to kill me if you get back late and I don't have enough space in here for all of you. Spider would have to sleep outside." Y/n teased, trying to let Tuk understand it was time to go. "Hey!" Spider protested at her lighthearted jab, but knew it was time for them to get going. Nobody wanted to get on Neytiri's bad side. Y/n hugged them all goodbye and thanked them for the presents: Tuk had made her a lovely drawing, and the others had collectively made her a rather beautiful necklace, which she immediately wore. Y/n waited on her doorstep till she could no longer hear the sounds of her friends chatting, and then proceeded to do two incredibly dangerous things: she sat outside of the protection of her bunker, all alone in the cold Pandora night air, and lit up a cigarette.

She'd discovered a terrifyingly endless supply of cigarette cartoons back at the base almost a year prior, and as soon as she'd tried her first one, she'd gotten addicted. Y/n hadn't told Norm or Max, of course, as it would have broken their hearts, especially because of how fragile she was. Y/n's mother had gone into labor in the aftermath of the battle for Pandora between the Na'vi and the Sky people. The soldier had lost her life giving birth, but her baby had survived, taking her first breath in the inhospitable Pandora air. Norm was convinced Eywa herself had kept her alive, had given her the ability to take in the air that hadn't previously failed to kill any other human. Sure, it had come at the price of being particularly fragile her entire life. And how was y/n repaying that gift? By cutting her miraculous existence short more and more each day. Thankfully, it was a while since she'd been used as a test rat, or had check ups of any sort. As far as the Sullys were concerned... they were way better off not even knowing what she was doing to herself.

A sudden rustling in the trees instantly made y/n alert and she didn't waste any time getting back inside. She showered, and shamefully hid her smokes somewhere her dads or the Sullys wouldn't look. When she had nothing else left to do, y/n forced herself to crawl into bed, placing a hand over her necklace. Her wish to see Lo'ak hadn't come true in the end, and while not surprising, it still hurt like hell.

"A pack of viperwolves? Seriously, Lo'ak?" Y/n groaned in frustration as she cleared her table for her best friend to lie on.

"I thought I could take them." He hissed as she doused him with disinfectant. "Yeah, well, you know human medical treatment hurts like a bitch, so it's either my way, or you're going to have to fess up to your parents about what you did." Y/n tried to sound cold, but she'd always been too soft on him.

When they were younger, and Lo'ak still hadn't grown to be double her size, they would often fall asleep together in her bed. "You don't have to keep doing this shit to prove something, you know?" She whispered to him one night, turning over to look at him and gently touch his face. "Your parents love you. And so do Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk and Spider. Lo'ak, I— we— don't want to lose you."

Y/n was almost asleep when a loud 'thud' coming from outside woke her. Something was moving on her roof, or rather, someone... Y/n didn't show whether she was dreaming or not as she looked out the window and locked eyes with Lo'ak, because the second she did, he seemed to slide off the top of her bucker, falling down into the grass below with a loud groan.

He'd probably just woken up half of the animals on Pandora.