#hi my name is ed and i write some weird shit sometimes

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Some musings on how to write Stede. He's genuinely a tough one to pin down because his voice is very him, he'll say things like "methinks" just as readily as "here's the deal, buckos." But I think I've got a few things nailed down and wanted to share in case they help anyone else.

Biggest thing: if you're struggling with getting Stede's voice right, his voice is a hell of a lot closer to Ed's than it is to the Aziraphale-brand "generic posh British" voice. If he's been surprised, Stede's more likely to say "oh shit" than "good heavens," you know what I mean?

My guy is not going to say something like "good evening! I was wondering if you would be interested in doing intercourse with me this fine evening" unless, and this is crucial, it would be funny for him to say that. Sometimes when it comes down to him using a fancier affect your judgment call needs to be based on how funny that line is going to be. Like, that line isn't in character if it's meant to be an example of just how he talks but if it's Stede trying to awkwardly flirt over text then it's fine.

I think that's important so it bears emphasizing: if you're going to have Stede talk overly-posh and use unusually fancy words, it's okay if it's funny. This seems to be the main rule the show uses, too.

Stede is usually polite but he's not timid. He has very few qualms about being a bitch to someone if he knows them well already or if they were rude to him first. Think about him telling Jim that they're "welcome to borrow [his suit]...or, well, look at it." Let queen bitch over here be a bitch!

Stede is ruthless. This doesn't mean he's unkind; it means he's very good at seeing exactly how to get from Point A to Point B and he will commit himself to getting there. The threat Ned Low posed is already neutralized? Doesn't matter. He hurt Ed, he's going down.

Stede's voice is much more formal and flowery when writing than when speaking. Think about "we're joined to one another, intertwined. We wrote our names on each other in permanent ink" in his letter compared to a more simple "I love everything about you" when speaking.

Let 👏🏾 Stede 👏🏾 Say 👏🏾 Weird 👏🏾 Things!👏🏾 This guy is weird, he's a weirdo, he doesn't fit in. If you're thinking to yourself "why the fuck would you say that" you're probably onto something. Let him make weird choices. Stede, especially after a bit of character development, is very himself - if he's a college professor, let him drag a full comfy armchair up to his fifth-floor office. If he runs a sex toy shop, let him proudly show off his invention called "the Cervix-Slammer 9000" that'll leave Ed very satisfied but also unable to walk for a week. Let him be enthusiastic and weird!

[jacksprostate]

Was just wondering how you manage to replicate palahniuk’s style so well and also obviously write his characters?

Love your blog btw!

There's a few things that go into it!

Firstly, I have the advantage of, according to my friends, before I read any of his stuff my style was already kind of Chuck adjacent. I tend to be very rhythmic in my writing, I do like to have little repetitions, I like fun descriptions — similar to how he focuses on things reading aloud well, and favoring offbeat descriptions, his little ritual words, etc. That's my biggest secret, I just already wrote pretty close to it without knowing, so I didn't have a whole lot to change. Similar dog learning new tricks sort of deal. That said, there IS stuff I actively think about, especially with regard to character voice:

There's some things I'd call window dressing — minor changes that make it more recognizable. This would be things such as: the narrator does not get put in quotes, slips into 2nd person, using a rhythm where the dialogue tag goes in front (generally Tyler says, blah, not blah, Tyler says). That also makes it feel more active and present. I also like to outright include the occasional line from the book as a referential repetition, or a spoof on a line, I think that's the fun of fanfiction. But if those lines stand out glaringly it can be a sign you either need to change your style or maybe you're just trying to stick it somewhere it doesn't belong.

There's some bigger things: sentence variation is another thing I've invested pretty heavily in on my own and something I highly recommend any writer get in the habit of, but in trying to match his character voice I do consciously feel for when something is getting too long, specifically. The key with Chuck is he can have long sentences, but they're made out of short ideas. Long sentences often become grammatically incorrect as they're separate ideas jammed together for rhythm and sense.

He also shies away from adjectives; I kind of ignore this because I love a good adjective, but I've learned from it by making sure each one is impactful in its own way. Avoid superfluousness, keep things moving. He also shies away from stereotypical descriptions, I enjoyed building my confidence making weird ones. It's something I'm keeping going forward.

Another thing with his style is he loves fun facts. Fortunately I also love fun facts. To do those you have to keep it relevant, symbolic/metaphorical, purposeful, and simple. You can totally get complex, but only using simple building blocks. It's not to show everyone you know something, it's to build a little cliff to push the narrator off of. People don't need the detailed rockwork.

He often has little... almost like an aside? The narrator will ramble or think about something else for a little bit before getting back to the present. That shaky hold on the Now contrasts with how action focused everything is and allows moments of rest even if its still action.

As for character voice, the narrator; by following the above, you can get most of it, and then remembering his general view of the world to keep things in theme. He shouldn't be happy. He should have a lot of surpressed rage. Etc. Good character writing starts with a good understanding of the character, and that's real important for whoever your pov is. Always important to check if stuff passes the "he wouldn't fucking say that" test. When I have dialogue for him, it's almost an extension of his thoughts. I mentally read it to myself with the dull affect Ed Norton used for the movie monologue, really that shit was perfect. I usually can't keep a voice in my head like that but that one... yeah.

Tyler on the other hand I have to be pretty conscious about, sometimes I'll go back through the book and read some of his lines. He tends to be very direct. Very rarely uses names, it's tempting to use psycho boy or ikea boy all the time but it's the devil speaking. Tyler is direct, always serious even when he's laughing, his statements are not mitigated at all, if he is saying a pet name it is for its own impact not to soften any sort of statement. Rhythmically I find this directness difficult sometimes, but the 'Tyler says' dialogue tag makes it feel like a religious call and response on the narrators part and serves to soften things — but have that be the narrator's perspective and choice, not Tyler's. It's pretty heavily repeated in the book. Tyler also requires a "He would not fucking say that" test and I think I've gotten better at his dialogue over time (ex: retroactively, Tyler's dialogue in my psychoactive fish story s u c k s. I mean, it works, but I didn't really have a strong grasp on him at the time and while the actions sound like him, the words and delivery don't. Now though I think my snippets and the dildo fic are pretty strong!) A lot of it is just practice and tuning your ear. Reference the original material and try to dissect it.

Hope this makes sense :) if there's anything specific where you're like "how'd you write that" I can try to answer. Glad you enjoy my blog!

[woogly-boogly]

tagged by @radellama for 15 questions so here we go

1 - are you named after anyone?

no but apparently a portion of my extended family didn’t think much of it at the time and it had to grow on them

2 - when was the last time you cried?

i’d been in a weird headspace for like a week where i knew i needed to cry but couldn’t, and then i watched gotg3 and it was super emotional but i didn’t even cry during that. the a few hours later two of my housemates said something that hurt my feelings and that was the last straw so i went to my room and finally broke and then just kept crying because i kept thinking about how emotional the movie was. i’ve cried once or twice since then but can’t remember why

3 - do you have kids?

lmao

4 - do you use sarcasm a lot?

yeah but not in the way sassy teen movie characters use it. like rads said, it’s more towards extreme hyperbole. it’s a different flavour.

5 - what sports do/have you played?

swimming, tennis and soccer when i was a kid, and volleyball when i was 11-18. i miss volleyball. never basketball because i fucking hate basketball. loved space jam though.

6 - what’s the first thing you notice about people?

how they look. sometimes i see someone and go “damn his shirt is great”, other times i’ll go “woah she’s cute as hell i wish i was her”. when you work in customer service you tend to do a bit of people watching from the counter so yeah visual aesthetic

7 - eye colour?

blue

8 - scary movies or happy endings?

i haven’t seen a lot of scary movies, but they’re usually fun. the thing is there’s so many different types of movies i’ve seen that just happen to have happy endings that it’s weird to compare that to a genre. it’s kinda like asking someone to choose between jazz music or songs with a fade out ending. like… there’s no real reason to pit these against each other and it’s not balanced

9 - any special talents?

i don’t think i’m good enough at anything to call it a talent but if you asked some of my friends or family they could probably pick something out.

10 - where were you born?

australia

11 - what are your hobbies?

gaming’s been the top one since i moved out, but i do still indulge in creative stuff every now and then. drawing, music etc. but i need to get back into writing, and also video editing. that’s fun and i don’t do enough of it. also reading but the house i live in is a shit reading environment so i haven’t done that in ages.

12 - do you have any pets?

not right now. my childhood dog died in 2021 and we’ve had 2 dogs in the house i currently live in but neither of them are in the house anymore.

13 - how tall are you?

195cm

14 - favourite subject in school?

outdoor ed. i love camping and rock climbing and kayaking and all that (i just don’t do it very often) so in high school i loved the camps my outdoor ed class would take. skiing on snowy mountains, white water rafting, hiking in rocky mountains and cliffs, it was so fucking fun. made a lot of really awesome memories with a lot of guys i wouldn’t normally have spent time with otherwise. i miss those times.

15 - dream job?

it used to be author. i do still want to write and publish at least ONE book, but i want to do more than that. i want to make movies with my friends, but my thoughts on what part i’ll play in it is a lot more vague than it used to be. acting, directing, i don’t really know. as long as it’s with my friends i guess i’ll roll with it. i don’t know what i really want, but i don’t want a career path that pigeonholes me into just one creative outlet forever.

i have 2 mutuals on this app and rads is one and he tagged the other in his post so this thread ends here lmao

[rotttnapple]

let's talk about Cain:

Cain is, among other things: homophobic, transphobic, misogynistic, racist, aggressive, and highly possessive. He's a great big asshole manbaby, in short, and absolutely deserves a swift kick in the nuts at all times.

but Ed!! you're saying, aren't you trans? Aren't you a big gay?? yes, yes I am, which may make it seem odd that I would actively write and develop a human trashcan like Cain Harris

But two things that really gets my giddie going are human behavior and, lord save my soul, redemption arcs. Cain (along with baby brother Charley) was born into a very religious household, and not the 'accepting' or 'progressive' sort, more or less the kind that would have happily burned a woman at the stake on the off chance that she might be a witch.

Cain was always the Holy Son to Elijah Harris, the heir to the throne, the one who could Do No Wrong. Cain, essentially, grew up on the knee of his father, whereas Charley was more of a 'momma's boy'. This is really the key of what makes these two brothers so different from each other. Part of it also has to do with their inherent nature, essentially their inborn personalities, but much of it has to do with how they were nurtured throughout their respective childhoods.

If you were to take these two and put them in a more normal household, not the witch burning sort, Cain most certainly would have grown up to be a reserved, quiet man, and his brother more outgoing and bubbly. Cain would certainly possess some of the dumb shit views he has today (there's a 'man' and a 'woman' in a homosexual relationship, for instance), but he wouldn't be hateful or harmful, just uneducated, but accepting, and typical of someone who has over time absorbed dumb shit misinformation that has unfortunately spread. He would also be very willing to listen to proper information and change these views accordingly. He would have also very likely come to accept and understand his own homosexuality far sooner in life.

Instead, before he was even old enough to understand he was taught that homosexuals are 'sinful' and 'broken', transgenders are outright freaks of nature, extremely wrong and extremely bad things. He was raised on the knee of a man staunch in his (many, and disgusting) views that a woman's duty in life is to produce children, cook, clean, and shut up. He was taught that it is a husband's duty to 'correct' a willful wife - Cain and Charley's mother, Catherine, was a far different woman before her husband's iron fist.

But ED!!! You're yelling now, you're making it sound like these behaviors should be excused!!

Absolutely not. Such behaviors - products of nurture, should not, and should never be excused, as they are absolutely inexcusable. They may not be products of nature - who one essentially Is - but they should also not be allowed to continue. To carry on being an actual walking turd is just unacceptable, and Cain has been that person for a very long time.

But the difference between Cain Harris and his father Elijah Harris is his willingness to change, his willingness to learn.

As Cain has grown and developed as a character he has come to accept his own homosexuality, something he took and buried deep, deep down inside of himself. His excuse for not 'finding a wife' and 'settling down' is that he hadn't found the 'right girl' - he hadn't found the white, meek and mild Catholic girl of his father's ugly dreams. As he has grown, he has fallen in love with an incredibly willful man of color, Dorian Pavus, who does not, under any circumstances, allow his backwards bullshit to carry on.

Cain has, slowly but surely, come out of the flaming shitcan he has been rolling around in for most of his life and that is why I write him.

Cain will never be a kawaii!!! uwu sweet baby, his history will never change, will never be excused, but he himself is changing, he is trying, and it is very interesting to write. He is fiction, but with a base in very real humanity. I never expected him to engage in the arc he has but I have to admit, it's great. It gives me some hope in a small way that people in real life have the potential for change themselves.

Next time I'll talk about how his relationship with Dorian has brought out things of his nature, because honestly that man is what he's needed since forever.

[alex51324]

Dead dove, do not eat

Here’s an idea for an Izzy fic that I’m not writing, because it is super-fucked up and being in the headspace necessary to write it, for long enough to write, it would be Bad For Me, but have been thinking about a lot.  

It’s season 2 (or post-season 2, whatever); Ed and Stede have made up and begun their happily ever after, and Ed goes to Izzy and is like, “You’re miserable on this ship, and we’re toxic for each other/have grown apart, so here, take the Queen Anne and the Blackbeard name and do your own thing.  I wish you well, & if we bump into each other again we should have a drink, but parting ways is obviously best for both of us.”

It’s a beautiful, heartfelt speech, probably incorporating some material about how Ed understands how Izzy feels about him, and he appreciates it even though he doesn’t feel the same way, and yeah, maybe he sometimes played off of Izzy’s feelings to get him to do stuff, which was a dick move of him, but he does genuinely value Izzy’s devotion for him, however, Izzy will be a lot happier if he can find somebody to give all that to who actually feels it back.  

And then Izzy is just, like, “No.”  

Ed:  “What?”

Izzy:  “No.  You promised that if I was loyal to you, I would be your First Mate forever, and forever ain’t up yet.  I’m not going anywhere.  Fuck the Queen Anne, fuck Blackbeard, fuck Bonnet; if you want me to leave your side, you’ll have to kill me.

Ed:  Izzy, come on, man. You’re being weird.

Izzy:  You fucking promised!  

And then he pulls the receipts on exactly when Ed made this promise and what they said, and Ed is like, OK, yeah, I remember that interaction, but.  Dude.  Have you ever heard of hyperbole?  

Izzy is losing his shit because Ed is saying that this solemn vow that he’s structured his entire life around didn’t mean anything, and he’s just yelling about how Ed promised and he (Izzy) swore an oath and Ed can’t just throw that away.

By now the whole crew has shown up to gawk, because Izzy is making a huge scene, and then someone (like 90% sure it’s Buttons) says, “Oh, Captain, I see what’s happened here.  When a (mythological creature I’d have to research or make up) makes an oath of loyalty to a mortal man, they are bound forever, for the (creature) gains a human soul and will accompany the mortal to his eternal destination.”

(There’s a lot more behind the cut; please be aware that it gets much more fucked up.  It’s theoretically possible that a story could go in a fluffy direction from here, but this is not that story.)

Ed:  Izzy isn’t a (creature).  (lengthy pause, turns to Izzy.)  Are you?

Izzy:  (says absolutely nothing)

Buttons:  If ye spurn him, Captain, he’ll have no choice but to seek you for the rest of his days.  He’s no life of his own, ye ken, now you’ve given him a soul. 

Izzy:  He’s right.  If you leave me somewhere, I’ll come after you. If you beat me and abandon me, I’ll come after you as soon as I have the strength to stand.  If you cut off my legs, I’ll crawl.  If you cut off all of my limbs, I’ll drag myself along with my tongue. 

Ed:  Mate, do you hear how unhinged you sound?

Izzy:  If you want to get rid of me, you’ll have to kill me.  With your own hands.

Buttons:  Aye, but Cap’n, if you do that, the soul you granted him will perish as well--and, some say, your own along with it.

Ed:  Izzy, you are a human being.  (he looks to Izzy for either conformation or contradiction, and gets neither)  I hear you saying that you don’t want to leave, but you’ll be fine.  Stop being--whatever this is.  It’s honestly gross and kind of scary. 

And Izzy is like, OK, fine, if you don’t want me here that badly, kill me.  If you don’t kill me, I belong here.  Those are the options that exist.  Pick one.  

There is a lengthy stalemate over this, lasting several chapters.  In the somewhat-less-fucked-up version, they keep leaving Izzy places (ports, random islands, dinghies in the middle of the ocean, etc.) in various ways (drunk, drugged, tied up, arrested, etc.) and he keeps coming back.  In the even-more-fucked-up version, Ed tries increasingly extreme measures to make “with him” a place that Izzy doesn’t want to be, ending up with outright torture. 

The longer it goes on, the more of the crew become convinced that Buttons’s explanation for the situation has to be right, for Izzy not to have left.  (In the more-fucked-up version, they aren’t fully aware of exactly what Ed’s doing, but they know it’s pretty bad.)  Some of them are collecting lore about (whatever type of creature they’ve decided Izzy is), and keep offering Ed suggestions for how to manage him that is this increasingly obvious and frankly disgusting cruelty.  The situation is obviously uncomfortable; no one want their ex hanging around being creepy while they’re setting up housekeeping with their new partner, but Ed was the one who made a soul-pact with a (whatever); and Izzy can’t help being one.  

And here’s the really fucked up part:  Eventually, it works.  Izzy wins. 

Ed un-chains him from the torture wall and treats his wounds and gives him something to eat and his clothes back, and once Izzy’s reasonably alert, he’s like, “Iz, I really, really, really need you to understand that none of this was a test; I genuinely and sincerely think that you could be happy if you just left and got over me, and I do not believe the soul-pact-thing, because it’s crazy.  But.  I can’t keep doing this.  And I can’t kill you, so if there’s nothing I can do to persuade you to leave, the only option left is to keep you here and try to love you.”  

And then he does.  (I told you it was fucked up.)  Ed puts as much effort into nursing Izzy back to health as he did to driving him away, and Izzy is slowly tamed from being a snarling, beaten, half-starved junkyard dog chained to the wall (which he always was, even before Ed actually chained him to the wall) into a cherished lap-dog.  He eats out of Ed’s hands, and sleeps curled up at the foot of Ed’s side of the bed.  He’s very clearly Ed’s, but he learns accept treats and pets from Stede, too.  Gradually, he’s allowed to take back some of his old duties, and he’s happy.  

The crew can see it: he’s calm, he’s pleasant to them, he’s goopily affectionate with Ed.  Buttons and the others who have appointed themselves experts on (whatever they think Izzy is) point out that this is what you’d expect from a (whatever) that is being properly cared for, and pretty much proves that he’s a (whatever).

(Maybe one member of the crew has heard of Ye Olde Stockholm Syndrome, and tries to say so, but no one pays much attention.)

And--this is important--the story includes equal amounts of evidence that Izzy actually is a (whatever) versus that he is a human being with severe mental health problems.  Is it a fairy tale with a happy ending for mythological!creature Izzy, who is finally getting what he needs, or a tragedy of two co-dependency gone metastatic, in which two people lock themselves into an ever-tightening spiral of mutual abuse, until they both, miraculously, crack in exactly the right way to decide they like it?  

We never find out.  We never get the mental closure of knowing whether what we just read was a gourmet meal or a bag of rotting trash from the dumpster.  Is our enjoyment of the torture scenes retroactively sanitized by them being necessary-but-unpleasant steps on the path to redemption, or are we monsters for fapping to two men’s descent into madness?  No one can say*.  

(*Except, of course, for how it’s fictional either way, so there isn’t any genuine moral weight to enjoying it even if it is a thing that would be horrible-if-real.)

[texanstarslove]

everything has changed

A/N: So this little number is for @hockeynetwork‘s Winter Gift Exchange and I was matched with @bigboigritty​! I hope this fic lives up to your expectations, my dear! I was thrilled to write a fic for Nolan as I had yet to do so up until this point! I also want to give a special shout out to @danglesnipecelly​ for listening to me rant and rave and yell about this fic NON FUCKING STOP. LOVE YOU K! 

Song Inspo: Everything Has Changed - Taylor Swift ft. Ed Sheeran

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, ridiculous amounts of fluff, cheesy friends to lovers trope 

Word Count: 8.5k

*italics indicate flashbacks*

~

They say that opposites attract, like fire and ice or Yin and Yang. Two completely different entities that have no business being together but somehow find a way to connect and create something beautiful.

That was the definition of your relationship with Nolan. 

You were the outgoing one, the one who would talk to anyone like you had known them your whole life without a second thought. You never met a stranger and were friendly and kind. One time while you were waiting for your coffee order at a local café you struck up a conversation with another customer over the most mundane of things: the straws sitting on the counter. That was just the kind of person you were. Always ready to chat with anyone about anything, sincerity in your voice at all times.

Nolan...not so much. He was a nice guy, yes, but he definitely didn’t have the same bubbly, loud, boisterous persona like you. He was happy to keep to himself, never really wanting to go out of his way to make small talk with anyone. Half the time when he spoke, it would come out as mumbles that were borderline incoherent. And although he was sometimes a person of very few words, he also carried an air of confidence. He wasn’t cocky by any means, just someone who seemed to be very sure of themselves most of the time. Some would say he gave off the vibe of someone who was constantly irritated or annoyed, a grump even.

But that was part of the reason he drew you in. He was intriguing to you. He made you want to get to know him better. He could say the same about you, how you made him want to open up in ways he never could with anyone else. The way you carried yourself made that easy, your nonjudgmental attitude made talking to you effortless.

When you first met Nolan, it was in the elevator of the apartment building you had just moved into. You were carrying the last of your belongings in perhaps one too many boxes, struggling to make it to the elevator before the doors closed. It was then, unbeknownst to either of you at the moment, that everything had changed.

“Hey, wait! Could you hold that for me?”

You moved as fast as you could, the person in the elevator holding their hand against the door to keep it open. You huffed out a ‘thank you’ before leaning against the wall to catch your breath, running your eyes over the person standing just a foot or two away from you. He was tall, easily towering over your smaller frame, hair swept under a cap that sat backward on his head. When you were finally able to get a good look at his face, the first thing that struck you were his eyes. They were the same as the sky and sea calming after a storm, swirls of gray and blue mixing seamlessly into one beautiful color. Something about those eyes made you stare just a little too long, your trance was only broken when he cleared his throat and glanced at you expectantly, his voice so much deeper than you thought it would sound like.

“What, uh...what floor?”

“Oh, um,” You blinked, shaking your head as if to bring you back to reality, and glanced at the button display to your left. The button for your floor, the sixth, was already illuminated. “Looks like mine has already been pressed. You headed to the sixth floor?”

The man just nodded, lifting his cap with one hand and running the fingers of his free hand through his hair before settling the cap back on his head. You cocked your head to the side, studying him once more. You immediately picked up on his reserved vibe but you felt compelled to talk to him some more.

“I’m assuming you live here, too?” 

He nodded his head again but turned slightly to face you so it didn’t look like he was ignoring you. You noticed his hands fidgeting in the front pocket of the black hoodie he was wearing as you continued to try and coax conversation from him.

“Do you like this complex?” You asked, “I read the reviews before I moved in and they all seemed pretty good. I figure asking a current resident how they felt about it would make me feel better about my decision.”

One of his hands leaves the pocket of his hoodie to rub the back of his neck. “It’s pretty nice. I just moved in this year and can’t really complain too much about it.”

“Yeah? That’s good to hear,” You replied, “This is the perfect spot between where I work and the university. I figured having someplace right in between would bode well for me.”

“Yeah, that definitely sounds like a good idea.”

You nodded your head, clicking your tongue as you thought of more things to say to keep conversation with him. The way that he spoke intrigued you. It was almost as if he was talking behind his teeth, his voice almost coming out as a mumble. You studied him some more, noticing how he slowly rocked back and forth on his heels, his eyes downcast as if to avoid eye contact. The vibe he was giving off wasn’t exactly standoff-ish, but he definitely wasn’t jumping at the chance to keep talking. You didn’t know what it was, but something about him pulled you in and you wanted to know more about him. The elevator dinging as it reached your floor interrupted your thoughts and you shifted the boxes in your hands as the doors opened. 

“Do you need help with that?” The man asked as the top box began to teeter over the edge of the one it was situated on.

“No, no,” You rushed, “I’ve got it.”

“You sure? It looks like you’re about to..”

Just as the words were about to escape his lips, the top two boxes came tumbling out of the elevator doors, its contents scattering across the floor. You sighed heavily, shaking your head at the scene in front of you before bursting into a fit of giggles. The man looked between you and the mess that had just been created by your stubbornness and sighed.

“Just like a woman,” He mumbled, “Never wanting to accept help.”

You caught on to the teasing in his monotone voice quickly, turning to stick your tongue out at him as you giggled some more. 

“Oh, shut it.” You shot back through your laughter, “You can help me now if you want.”

He chuckled softly, extending his arm out of the elevator as if to lead you out. You shook your head as you walked into the hallway, thankful no one else was around to see what a disaster you had created. You crouched down to begin picking up your things, throwing them haphazardly into the boxes on the ground. The man did the same, only he was a little more careful with your belongings as he placed them inside the boxes.

“God, you must think I’m a hot mess.” You sighed, putting the last few items back in their box. “I swear I’m a little more put together most of the time.”

“Not a hot mess,” He said, “A little talkative maybe but…”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” You cut him off, “I have a tendency to chat people’s ears off. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all,” He reassured you, “I’m used to it. I have a buddy who never shuts up so really, it doesn’t bother me.”

You smiled, nodding your head, grateful that he didn’t think you were a complete loon. It was at this point you realized you hadn’t even properly introduced yourself. “And you must think I’m incredibly rude making you help me pick up my shit when we don’t even know each other’s names.” You offered your hand to him. “(Y/N).”

He gently took your hand, squeezing lightly as he shook it. “Nolan.”

“Well, Nolan,” You stood from where you were crouched down, holding the boxes you could while he carried the others. “I really appreciate your help.”

“If you would’ve let me help you in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened.” That teasing was back again. He stood from his spot as well, a sly smirk spread across his lips.

You playfully bumped his hip with yours as the two of you walked down the hall to the front door of your apartment. Setting the boxes you were carrying beside the door frame, you pulled your keys from your jacket pocket and unlocked the door, gently pushing the boxes across the threshold with your foot before taking the remaining boxes from Nolan.

“This is crazy,” He mumbled, pointing over his shoulder, “My apartment is literally right across the hall.”

“Yeah?” You turned to face him once you set the last of the boxes inside, “That’s awesome! Maybe we’ll become best friends after all.”

Nolan smiled, his already rosy cheeks darkening just slightly, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“Yeah, maybe.”

That chance meeting in that elevator was quite possibly the greatest thing to ever happen to you. Not only had you met your neighbor and actually got along with him, but you also became friends, best friends, almost instantly. It started with the occasional meet up at each other’s apartments, getting to know each other before hanging out almost regularly. Your polar opposite personalities meshed together perfectly, both of you bringing out the best in each other. Nolan felt like he could be 100% authentic, becoming more and more open with his feelings around you. He felt like he could tell you anything and all those feelings he had were reciprocated by you. You could tell each other anything about everything, sharing every aspect of your lives with the other. You were like two peas in a pod, attached at the hip whenever he was home. Eventually, the two of you had exchanged keys, mainly so when he was gone on road trips with his team you could bring in his mail so it wouldn’t pile up. He only held on to yours at your insistence.

“It’d be weird if I had your key and you didn’t have mine, Nolan.” You told him when he tried to brush it off. “Just take the damn thing. Just in case, you know?”

Most of the time, you were the one letting yourself into his apartment. You’d send a quick text of “I hope you’re decent, I’m coming over” before all but barging in, filling his usually quiet space with your over the top energy. It would be a lie if Nolan said it didn’t take some getting used to. He was so used to being by himself, him and his video games or music. And though you always told him he could, he really did not need to ever let himself into your apartment when you weren’t there. He wasn’t like you, always bringing him food or buying little trinkets and placing them in random spots in his apartment. He never complained about the meals but always balked at the idea of new decorations you managed to find for him. You insisted that he needed to liven up his space, that it looked too much like a jail cell instead of a place to call home.

“I like my place just fine, ma’am.” He once told you, poking at your latest purchase, a set of succulents. “Besides, I’ll just kill these fucking things anyway.”

“Then it’s a good thing I have a spare key.” You countered, placing the plants along the window sill. “I’ll make sure you don’t kill my babies.”

He laughed at your comparison of the plants to children. “Why don’t you just keep them at your place then? Why do they need to take up space in my apartment?”

“Quit arguing with me, Nols.” You scolded him, “Not in front of the kids.”

Conversations like that always ended with him chuckling and shaking his head, all but admitting defeat. He would never say it out loud to anyone, but he actually loved how much you seemed to care about his well being. While he was perfectly capable of doing things for himself, if it made you happy, that was all that mattered to him. There was something about the outgoing and sometimes clumsy girl he met in the elevator that made it all worth it. The mood was always lifted when you showed up and though he would tease you about invading his space or being obnoxious, you both knew he never meant a single word.

There were, however, those rare occasions where Nolan would use your key. It didn’t happen very often but whenever he was going through a particularly rough patch, he found solace in you. It could be about anything, the way a particular game went, how he as an individual player was performing or if he was just having a shitty day. Whatever brought him to the edge emotionally, he knew he could come to you. You always knew when it was coming, too. Instead of a normal greeting when he entered your apartment, you’d hear the door unlock before it opened slowly, Nolan trudging in without saying a word before closing the door behind him and flopping on your couch. He’d exhale loudly, a clear indicator that something was wrong, waiting for you to come sit beside him. 

That’s exactly what happened this time. Just as you finished up an online class, you heard the key in the lock. When you closed your laptop and glanced up at the door, Nolan was there with a sullen look on his face. He went through the normal routine, keeping quiet and not saying anything, just a nod of acknowledgment before sitting on your couch with a heavy sigh. You smiled sadly, placing your laptop back in its case before walking to sit down beside him.

“What’s up, Grumpy McGee?” You teased, taking your place on the couch and resting your head on his shoulder. Typically Nolan would huff out a laugh at your eloquent nicknames for him but not this time. When all you got in reply was yet another deep sigh, you leaned back taking in his appearance. His shoulders were slumped more than usual, his posture slouched and head hanging low. He avoided eye contact when you tried to move your head to look him in the eye.

“Nolan?” 

When his eyes finally met yours, you were taken aback by what you found within those ocean-blue depths. You had seen him angry, happy, frustrated; all of the feelings that came with the profession he was in. You had seen just about every emotion in those eyes but this one almost took your breath away. For the first time, when you looked into his eyes, you saw someone who was unsure of themself. Someone who lacked the confidence they so often carried with them, even if it was in a subtle way. 

“Hey,” You murmured, turning your body to face him, “Nolan, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” He mumbled, turning to avoid your gaze once more. “Just had a rough day is all.”

You knew he and the team had been going through a bit of a rough patch. The team had been on a bit of a skid going into the upcoming holiday break. There was one more short road trip before Christmas and you could already tell Nolan was stressing about it. Not just because of the team’s performance, but because of his own personal struggles. The pounding migraines he had been dealing with for the better part of the season had become more frequent, causing him to miss playing in a few games here and there. The way to go about managing the migraines was somewhat of a mystery to team doctors and trainers. While they were doing their best to help Nolan, and he knew they were exhausting every option available, nothing seemed to be working and it seemed that Nolan was finally at his breaking point.

“Are you feeling okay?” You gently ask, your hand running soothingly across his bicep. When he just shrugged his shoulders once more, you gave a light, reassuring squeeze to his arm, smiling softly when his eyes met yours again.

“I feel fine right now,” He sighed, “But these things fucking come out of nowhere. Never know when they’re going to hit me.”

You nodded, wordlessly encouraging him to continue. He needed to vent, you sensed it, needed to let out all of the emotions he was feeling.

“I just…” He trailed off, his fingers running through his hair as he huffed out another breath. “What if this ends my career, (Y/N)? What if these things get so bad I won’t be able to play anymore? I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t…”

“Hey, hey, hold on a second,” You scooted up onto your knees, kneeling next to him on the couch. “You are going to be just fine, Nolan.”

“You don’t know that, (Y/N),” He bemoaned, “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” You insisted, “I do because the whole organization is on your side. You have some of the best doctors in Philadelphia working with them to help you. They’re going to find something that makes this better for you.”

“But what if they don’t?” His voice increased slightly in volume as he sat up a little straighter, “What if there is nothing they can do for me and this team drops me? What if they see there is no use waiting around for me to get better?” He drags his fingers through his hair before holding his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. When he speaks again his voice comes out in a whisper. “What if they give up on me?”

The uncertainty and brokenness in his voice made your breath hitch in your throat. Moving closer to him you gently took his face into your hands and turned his head to face you, making him look you in the eye. 

“They will not give up on you, Nolan.” You spoke with gentle firmness. “I just don’t see that happening. You will get better and you will have an amazing career here. And can I tell you something else?”

You could see the desperation in his eyes as he nodded.

“I’m never giving up on you,” You whispered, “That I know for an absolute fact. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

He chuckled softly at your remark and you smiled, running one of your thumbs along his skin beneath it. His gaze softened as you continued to hold his face, your thumb still gently caressing his cheekbone. You couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face but it made your stomach flip, made your heart rate pick up just a little bit. It was a feeling you never felt being this close to Nolan and it startled you. You swore you saw his eyes flicker to your lips but before you could process that thought, you dropped your hands to his shoulders, giving them a gentle couple of pats before moving back to your previous spot on the couch. “You want to grab something to eat? We can order in if you want?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He stuttered, shaking his head as if he was trying to clear his mind. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Of course it does,” You teased, giving his shoulder a little nudge as you stood from your spot on the couch. “You never turn down food.”

“Busted.” He gave you a small smile as he watched you make your way into the kitchen. You stood at the counter, pulling out a to-go menu from your favorite restaurant and your phone, dialing the number to place the order. You couldn’t see it but as you talked on the phone, Nolan watched you intently. He watched the way you confidently spoke and how you paced around the kitchen, making small talk with the person who was taking the order. You couldn’t see the way he looked at you with complete adoration or feel the way his heart pounded in his chest when he heard you speak. You couldn’t see the smile that spread across his lips, a smile that only you could bring out of him. You also couldn’t hear the voice in his head beating him up over not pressing his lips to yours as you held his face in your hands. He didn’t understand where the intense urge came from at that moment, but he knew he so desperately wanted to know what your lips felt like against his own. 

“You alright over there, space cadet?” 

Your voice brought him out of a trance when you spoke to him. He blinked in quick succession, seemingly willing his brain to come back to reality before he gave a quick nod. “Yeah, I guess I kind of zoned out there for a second.”

“I’ll say,” You chuckled, returning to your spot on the couch, flopping down beside him. “The food should be here in about thirty minutes or so.”

“Sounds good.”

The rest of the night carried on as usual. You and Nolan finished your meals and fell into your normal routine of tv and conversations about literally anything. You tried to keep things light and fun, attempting to keep Nolan’s mind off of the struggles facing him and his team. The two of you bantered and laughed and carried on as you normally would for the remainder of the evening. Occasionally you found yourself staring a little longer at him as he watched whatever was on, studying the angles of his face in the flickering lights of the tv. You had always thought that his facial features gave him an angelic look, a juxtaposition to how he spoke and how he carried himself. You smiled, hunkering down further into the couch as you got more comfortable and got pulled into the television show. You eventually found yourself dozing off as a random Christmas movie played on the screen. You had laid yourself across the couch, your legs swung across Nolan’s lap. It wasn’t until you felt him gently tap your thigh that you realized you had fallen asleep.

“Hey,” You heard his low voice speak, “(Y/N), I think we should call it a night.”

You stretched as you slowly sat up, a soft groan escaping your lips. “What time is it?”

Nolan looked down at his phone, checking the time before looking back at you as he also stretched. “It’s just past eleven. I should go, got an early flight tomorrow.”

“Right,” You grumbled, “Okay. I’ll walk you out.”

He nodded and got up to stand in front of you, reaching his hands out for you to take. He gently pulled you up but even still, being the clumsy person you are, you stumbled forward slightly, hands pressing into his chest and his catching you at your waist. You looked up at him and found the same look in his eyes as earlier when he confided in you. That same feeling you had was creeping back in as well and you held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary. You quickly averted your eyes and cleared your throat, walking with him to your front door.

“Thank you for tonight, (Y/N).” Nolan leaned against the door frame, half in the outside hallway and half still in your apartment. 

“Anytime.” You grinned, “Always happy to be of service. Someone’s gotta feed you.”

He chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “So, uh, I’ll see you in a couple of days, yeah? Going to G and Ryanne’s for that party?”

“You know it.” You replied, “Have a safe flight, Nols. Text me when you guys get there.”

“Will do.” He saluted you before pushing off the door frame and turning to cross the hall to his apartment. You watched as he unlocked his door and opened it to head inside for the night. Just before he closed the door behind him, you called out to him.

“Hey, Nolan?” He turned to look at you, a questioning look in his eyes. 

“What’s up?”

You smiled softly, leaning your head against the threshold of your apartment. “I think you’re amazing. You know that, right?”

He leaned his forearm against his door frame and smiled. 

“I think you’re amazing, too.”

You smiled as you closed your door, leaning against it when it latched shut, and took a deep breath. Something in the air felt different and you couldn’t quite explain it. It made you nervous, anxious even, but you also couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. Something felt different between you and Nolan and even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, you knew that everything had changed.

~

With the Flyers’ road trip winding down and it going in a way that wasn’t exactly favorable, you knew there was more than likely going to be a bit of a cloud over the holidays. The boys managed to sneak in one win out of the three games played but knowing them like you did, it wasn’t something they were going to tout as a success. You also knew, given your knowledge as to how his mind worked and the existing personal struggles he was facing, that Nolan would be extra critical of himself. He’d try and disguise it, not wanting to put a damper on the upcoming holiday festivities, but you knew him better than that. 

That is how you found yourself in his apartment yet again, only this time decorating it to fit the Christmas theme. You knew it was excessive, you knew it was over the top and ridiculous, but if it would bring any semblance of a smile to that boy’s face it was all worth the complaining he’d undoubtedly do when he walked into his apartment. You had managed to snag some Christmas decorations on the cheap, scouring bargain stores for everything from lights and garland and stockings to even a tree with accompanying ornaments. When you finally deemed your collection enough to decorate with, you let yourself into his apartment and put things in place little by little over the course of the weekend. The guys were slated to be home by early afternoon with the Christmas party at Claude and Ryanne’s later in the evening, allowing everyone a little bit of time to decompress then have a little bit of fun before heading to their respective homes for the holidays. 

Holiday music was filling the apartment, your soundtrack to your latest decorating endeavor. The cheesy gas fireplace in the living room served as the perfect spot to hang some lighted garland and the stockings. Fairy lights adorned every spot in which it was feasible to place them. There were even candles that were purchased, their scent matching the season but ultimately used for the ambiance they provided as well. Decorating the tree was saved until the very last moment. As you danced and sang to the sounds of Andy Williams and Bruce Springsteen, you methodically placed the red and gold ornaments on the tree. You even snuck a small Gritty ornament in the mix, making sure to give a nod to the mascot you knew Nolan loved and adored, hoping he’d find it and smile. As it all came together, you pulled out the last item to place on the tree, it’s topper. You loved how when the little star was placed at the top it felt like the finishing touch to it all, giving finality to all your hard work. You stood back a couple of feet from the tree and looked on in contentment, happy with how the decorations turned out. You chuckled to yourself, knowing that when Nolan walked into the room when he got home he’d instantly know who to blame for Christmas practically exploding in his space.

Admiring the room in its entirety one last time, you smiled once more to yourself, proud of what you were able to accomplish. You knew Nolan would be shocked, and probably bitch and moan about it, but in the end, he’d have a laugh and hopefully feel just a little bit of the holiday spirit. You blew out the candles, their scent lingering in the air, before heading back across the hallway to your apartment. It was nearly lunchtime, meaning you had more than enough time to clean up and get ready for the team Christmas party. You pulled out your phone, seeing you had received a text from Nolan saying he and the boys had just landed and would be back home soon.

You: Happy you guys made it back safely! I’ll be ready for G’s party around 6, that should be enough time for you to nap or whatever, right?

Nolan: Yeah sounds good to me.

The two of you exchanged just a few more texts before he needed to drive home. The extra time before the party allowed you to get a few house chores done before actually beginning to get ready. Not even an hour after your text exchange with him, your phone began to ring, Nolan’s name flashing across the display. You smiled broadly, already anticipating what his reaction to his newly decorated apartment would be.

“You’re supposed to be taking a nap, no?” You tried to hide the giggle threatening to bubble up, knowing exactly why he was calling you.

“Don’t you act like you don’t know exactly why I am calling you, (Y/N).” Nolan’s gravelly voice greeting your ear, “Why the fuck does it look like Christmas threw up in my apartment?”

“You don’t like it?” You feigned shock and hurt, “Come on, Nols, don’t be such a Grinch!”

“Ha, fucking, ha.” Nolan retorted, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “Seriously, you’ve outdone yourself. This is absolutely ridiculous.”

“Mission accomplished, then!” You cheered, “Now hang up the damn phone and take your nap! We have a party to go to tonight and I expect you to be my date.”

Nolan scoffed. “Oh, with this latest stunt I’m taking away your plus one status.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” You gasped, earning a hearty chuckle from Nolan. 

Of course, he never would. It would be like sucking the life out of the party leaving things so much more boring if you weren’t around. Having you at his side to these events and gatherings made it all worthwhile, even if you were just tagging along as his friend. “TK and Hayesy would never let me hear the end of it if I did. And you’d end up bugging me to go all the time anyway.”

It was your turn to laugh now. You know those boys liked to rib Nolan to no end about his relationship with you, asking when he’d ‘wife you up’ or why you spent all your time with a guy like Nolan. It was all in good fun, though. They were never malicious or had any ill will, in fact, they were just the opposite. You two would never know it but the guys on the team, and some of their significant others, were secretly waiting for the day the two of you would get together. Though you and Nolan both insisted your relationship was no more than a friendship, your friends were not convinced in the slightest. You’d both just shrug off the comments and jokes, nothing ever really bothering either of you. 

“Well, you can’t disappoint them then!” You teased, “Now seriously, get some beauty rest and pick me up at six.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He replied through his laughter.

“See you in a little bit, Nols.”

You said your goodbyes and continued with your day, doing the various chores you set out to finish and allowing yourself more than the usual time it took for you to get ready. After showering and picking out an outfit, something festive but not over the top, you sat at your vanity with your makeup spread out in front of you. You took your time, playing yet another Christmas playlist to help set the mood for the get together you’d be attending. Something about the music and festivities put you in a wonderful mood and made you even more excited to see everyone before they all headed back to their respective homes for the holidays. 

As you were putting on your earrings, the finishing touch to your look, your phone buzzed on the countertop as a text came through. You glanced down and saw that it was from Nolan, asking if you were finished getting ready.

Nolan: Your Uber is waiting for you outside the door.

You: Ew, that’s creepy. I didn’t think they did that. 

Nolan: Kidding of course. Can I come in?

You: As long as you aren’t the creepy Uber driver.

You smiled to yourself as you sprayed the last bit of hairspray in your hair and looked over your appearance once more. Satisfied with the finished look, you grabbed your purse and walked into your living room, just in time to see the front door open and for Nolan to walk through.

“Creepy Uber driver has arrived.” He called out as he shut the door behind him. At first, he didn’t notice you had walked into the living room, speaking louder than he normally would, but then his eyes landed on you and they seemed to widen as he took in your appearance. “Wow, (Y/N)..you look..”

“Do you think this is okay?” You asked, “I know they said casual but I didn’t want to just show up in what I normally wear so I-”

“Hey, you look great,” Nolan assured you, “I mean, I thought you’d be wearing one of those ugly Christmas sweaters given how you decorated my apartment so this is a nice surprise.”

You playfully smacked him in the chest before linking your arm with his. “Let’s get this show on the road.” 

The drive to the Giroux household was nothing short of typical for the two of you. There was the usual chirping from you about how Nolan was driving and the incessant moaning and groaning from him about the music you chose to play.

“Any time you’re on the AUX cord, no good music is played.” He complained, attempting and failing to take the cord from you as he drove.

“Nolan, we are on our way to a fucking Christmas party,” You said, “It would be sacrilege if we didn’t play any Christmas music! Now focus on driving before you kill us.”

He shook his head in defeat, chuckling softly at the small little victory dance you did in your seat as you played your music. Every now and then he’d steal a glance at you, watching as you happily sang and danced to every song that played. He’d never admit how much he actually enjoyed the cheesy holiday music, mostly because of the joy it brought you. Everything that made you happy made him happy. Seeing you smile made him smile. Every little thing you did for him, no matter how much he may have complained about it outwardly, made him feel like he was on top of the world. Sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, thinking these thoughts, feeling these feelings at this very moment made him come to a not so shocking realization. 

He was madly in love with you. He was so head over heels for you and it took his breath away. 

He took a deep breath, one that caused his chest and shoulders to rise and fall dramatically and you took notice. As he pulled the car into the drive, you raised an eyebrow at him and cocked your head to the side.

“You alright over there?”

He shifted the car into park and offered you a small smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You gave him a beaming smile, unbuckling your seatbelt to get out of the car and head inside. “Come on, Mr. Grinch, let’s go see everyone.”

He watched as you climbed out of the passenger seat, shutting the door behind you, and walking up to the front door of the Giroux’s home. When he saw you turn to see if he was going to follow, mouthing a ‘Come on!’ as you waved, he sighed once more, climbing out of the car himself. That big, wide grin was still plastered on your face as he walked up beside you, you linking your arm with his once again. Looking down at you, seeing how excited you were as the two of you walked up to the door only solidified his earlier thoughts. He knew in this very moment that everything between you had changed.

~

The evening carried on at a relaxed pace, Claude and Ryanne being the wonderful hosts they always were. The guys with families brought their children along and the entire night was filled with plenty of laughs and entertainment. You always found yourself gravitating to the kiddos when they were involved. That’s how Nolan caught up with you after the two of you were separated for a little while. You were sitting and chatting with Ryanne, bouncing a happy little Gavin on your knee.

“How is it that you always manage to end up with the kids?” He asked you as he came to stand beside you. His finger lightly poked at Gavin’s belly making the toddler giggle excitedly. “What’s up, little man?”

You smiled up at him and bounced your knee, continuing Gavin’s giggles. “I can’t help it. He’s the cutest guy in the room.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” He replied, “Thanks for hosting all of us, Ryanne. It’s been fun, as always.”

“Oh, of course!” Ryanne smiled, “It’s a blast, we love having everyone here.”

Nolan turned back to you as he spoke again. “I was going to get something to drink, did you want me to grab you anything?”

“I’m okay, thanks.” You looked back at the giggling toddler still in your lap. “I just need a few more Gavin cuddles and I should be ready to go soon if you are.”

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded, “I’ll meet up with you in a little bit then, yeah?”

He gave your shoulder a light squeeze before making his way to the kitchen, seemingly making small talk with Kevin.

“He’s got it bad for you, girl.” Ryanne gushed when Nolan was out of earshot.

You felt your cheeks warm, butterflies running rampant in your tummy before brushing her comment aside. “You’re crazy. We’re just friends, Ry.”

“And I think you are lying to yourself.” She countered, “He’s a good guy, (Y/N).”

“I know that,” You agreed, “He’s my best friend, of course I know that.”

Ryanne just smiled, that ‘If you say so’ kind of look that she gives you every time this subject comes up. She, just like all your other friends, never pushed the envelope with you. She respected your boundaries but she was always one of your biggest cheerleaders. She was like how Claude was for his team except in her place in the WAGs group, really in the whole friends group entirely; the momma of the group. She would have your back no matter what and support you with no questions asked. 

“So tell me about how he reacted to your Christmas decorations.” She said, changing the subject, “Did he freak out over it?”

“Oh, god, it was hysterical.”

You indulged Ryanne in all the details of your decorating assault on Nolan’s apartment, telling her about how you almost lost your invitation to the evening’s festivities. The laughter you two shared echoed through the living room and into the kitchen, Nolan of course taking notice of your laughter specifically. He was leaning against the island that overlooked the living room, smiling at how much fun you seemed to be having in telling whatever story you were to Ryanne. He felt a pair of hands land heavily on his shoulders, a hard squeeze being given to both, before that all too familiar Boston accent filled his ears.

“Buddy, come on.” Kevin chuckled, “You have got to say something to that girl.”

Nolan turned to face his friend who had leaned on the island beside him. He attempted to give Kevin a nonchalant, playing it cool response and shrugged his shoulders. “What are you talking about? Tell her what?”

 “Don’t give me that shit, kid.” Kevin told him, “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Nolan sighed, one of his hands coming up to run down his face. There was really no point in trying to play it off anymore. Of everyone in this house, aside from Ryanne, Kevin knew exactly how Nolan felt about you. Though unlike Ryanne, Kevin wasn’t going to play games with Nolan. He had sat back for too long watching the both of you deny, deny, deny and he was ready to at least call Nolan on his bullshit.

“What, no smart ass comeback this time?” Kevin chuckled when Nolan didn’t respond. As he watched him for a second longer, he knew Nolan had recognized his own feelings. “Oh, shit, you do have feelings for her, don’t you?”

“Don’t act like you’re surprised.” Nolan retorted.

“I’m not surprised you have feelings for her, bud.” Kevin clarified, “I’m surprised you’ve finally admitted it. Took ya long enough!”

Again, Nolan sighed, this time in annoyance. “Well, keep it down, you big idiot. I don’t need to spring any surprises on her like this.”

Kevin just laughed, taking a swig of the beer he was nursing. He watched as Nolan turned his attention back to where you were still chatting with Ryanne. He could tell just by the way Nolan was looking at you that he had it bad, just like Ryanne had told you earlier. One of his hands came up to Nolan’s shoulder once more, gaining his attention once more.

“Can I tell you something without you getting defensive on me?”

Nolan raised an eyebrow. “That depends on what comes out of your mouth.”

“Fair enough,” Kevin chuckled, “In all seriousness though, Patty, that girl loves you too. I’m just sayin’.”

“How do you know that?” Nolan scoffed, “I didn’t even say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” Kevin grinned, taking another sip of his beer. “But I have a feeling that if you told her how you felt, I’d be right.”

Nolan looked back at you once more just as you were finishing your conversation with Ryanne. You caught his eye and smiled that big, beautiful smile he loved so much as you stood to walk over to him. Kevin gave him one last pat on the back as you made your way to where they were standing.

“Ready to go, Nols?” You asked, tucking into his side.

He nodded, turning back to Kevin to give him the handshake-hug hybrid thing that men like to do. 

“Remember what I said,” Kevin told him before turning to you and pulling you into a hug. “Have a good night, sweetheart. Don’t let this guy give you any trouble.”

“I know who to come running to if he does,” You laughed, “See you around, Kev.”

You and Nolan said goodbye to the remaining partygoers before heading back out to his car. Per your usual, you snagged the auxiliary cord before Nolan could reach for it, expecting a fight out of him like always. When he did nothing but chuckle at your antics you got your first clue that something was going on in his head. You let it go, however, chalking it up to you just reading too far into his actions. But when the car ride back to your shared complex was quieter than normal, no words being exchanged between the two of you, you knew for sure something was up. You turned the volume on the car stereo down and turned in your seat as best you could to look at him.

“You okay, Nolan?” 

He glanced over at you, still trying to keep his eyes on the road. “Yeah, I’m good. Why what’s up?”

“You’re just quieter than normal,” You replied, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Just tired is all,” He mumbled, reaching across the console and taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze, “I’m good though.”

He didn’t let go of your hand. Even after he stopped talking he didn’t let go of your hand. You tried not to outwardly show how you were feeling on the inside. Your heart rate jumped, feeling like it was beating rapidly in your throat. You felt your face get hot and you were thankful that it was dark out, only street lights illuminating your face as Nolan drove. You tried to calm yourself as Nolan pulled the car back into his usual spot back at the complex parking garage. The two of you walked into your building, your hand still burning from his touch. The silence between you two remained but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You could understand why Nolan would be tired, having flown back home and attending a Christmas party all in the same day. As you went to pull out your keys, Nolan stopped you, nodding toward his apartment door.

“You want to come in for a little bit?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck like he was nervous.

“Y-yeah,” You stammered, not sure where the sudden nervous energy was coming from, “Sure. That should be fine.”

He gave you a small smile before unlocking his door, letting you walk in first before closing the door behind him. You took off your shoes, leaving them by the front door, and removed your coat and scarf, draping them over one of the barstools at the kitchen counter. The only light in the apartment was that of the lights you used to decorate with. When Nolan went to turn on one of the lamps you stopped him.

“This is the best way to enjoy the Christmas lights,” You told him, “Come look at the tree with me, please?”

Nolan gave you a small nod and came to stand beside you. The lights gave off a soft, warm white glow and you smiled as you admired your handiwork. “Did you notice that I hid Gritty in there?”

You heard Nolan chuckle softly before replying. “Yeah, I did. He really makes the tree.”

You giggled, nudging his hip with your own. He smiled back at you, watching as you continued to look over the tree. He knew you were proud of the work you had done and that warmed his heart. He also couldn’t help looking at how beautiful your face looked lit up by nothing but the soft glow of Christmas lights. His gaze lingered for a while and when you felt it, you turned so your body was facing him, giving a puzzled look.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Just…” He shook his head, looking down at the ground before his eyes met yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You questioned, your head cocking slightly. 

“For everything.” He murmured, his fingers coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “For being my friend, taking care of me. For being you.”

“Nolan, you don’t have to thank me…” 

“I know,” He insisted, the hand that came up to your face lingering just a little longer, not yet dropping back to his side. “I know I don’t but I want to.”

“Nolan…” 

“I also want to do one more thing.”

Before you could even process a response, he was stepping closer to you and his other hand joined the first in cupping your cheeks and tilting your head upward, his lips pressing to yours in a gentle but sure kiss. You gasped softly, your eyes a small noise of surprise escaping you and your hands clasped around his wrists. His kiss was soft, gentle enough to not scare you away but it wasn’t tentative. You knew without a doubt that this was something Nolan was sure of and with just a second’s hesitation as you regained your bearings, you kissed him back, and as you did so Nolan sighed into the kiss, relief flooding him. Your eyes fluttered shut, throwing yourself into the moment. You kissed him back with the same gentle urgency, allowing his tongue to tangle with yours when you felt it trace your bottom lip. You don’t know how long the two of you kissed. Eventually, the urgency calmed and you fell into slow, languid movements until you both needed to come up for air. Your eyes remained closed for a moment longer as you felt Nolan’s forehead rest gently on yours. When you opened them once more, you were met with the ocean blue eyes that, though at the time you hadn’t realized it, you fell in love with the moment you saw them. Your hands were still clasped around his wrists, thumbs brushing the tops of his hands as you smiled up at him before he broke the silence first.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” 

You giggled softly, letting go of his wrists and pushing up onto your tiptoes so you could wrap your arms around his neck. “That was nice.”

Nolan chuckled, his hands dropping to your waist. “I’ve had feelings for you I think from the start.”

“Oh is that what that means?” You teased, giving his nose a quick peck. “I thought it was just a ‘thank you for decorating my apartment, (Y/N)’.”

He gently squeezed your sides, eliciting a surprised squeak from you. That soft smile of his graced his face once more before he spoke again. “I’m serious. I think that maybe… I think I’ve loved you for a long time now.”

“You love me?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” He replied, his hand rubbing your sides, “Yeah, I love you.”

You grinned from ear to ear, Nolan’s smile almost matching yours before you pushed your lips to his again, loving how they felt on your own. You were nearly breathless when you pulled away again, speaking in a hushed tone. “Good, because this would have been so fucking weird if this was just your way of saying thank you.”

Nolan quirked an eyebrow, his little smirk spreading across his lips. “So it’s not weird?”

“No, you idiot,” You giggled, “Because I love you, too.”

He pulled you into one more kiss, this one just as slow and gentle as the very first. You couldn’t describe the happiness that was flowing through your veins, but you did know one thing. It was there, in the ridiculously decorated living room of his apartment, beneath the warm glow of Christmas lights, that everything had changed.

[savagetrickster]

Stay with Me | BNHA

request:  Hi! Can I request a scenario where Bakugou thought that reader was starting to lose interest, but in reality reader is just really busy and doesn’t realize she’s treating baku differently and Bakugou confronting her about it then it ends with some fluff fluff. 💖 p.s luv ur work

anime | character:  bnha | bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 1949

themes/warnings: soft!bakugou, insecure bakugou,  college AU

a/n: sorry for not posting a fic in such a long time, I’ve been SO busy. so anyway, okay I kinda went little off-track and ended up writing the way it is shown below but i hope you’ll still enjoy reading this, though i have to say I’m not really fond of how it turned out. this fic has not been beta-ed so pardon me if you find any cringey error.

The city of Musutafu moved as sluggishly as possible for a city of its size and caliber. It was one of those days when the moon was mostly hidden behind the clouds.

Kirishima let his eyes roam the street outside. The inhabitants of the boulevard were constantly on the move despite being a Saturday; it was a startling contrast to the cafe they sat in where a comfortable nonchalance clung to every aspect of the little business.

The slow, sleepy music playing from the speakers.

The casual yet practiced movements of the baristas as they prepared the orders. 

The lazy, idling manners in the way the customers brought their cups to their lips. Carrying every bit of thoughtlessness and indifference in their actions.

Well, almost everyone but them.

A perplexed frown pinched between Kirishima’s brows as he turned his gaze away from the window beside them.

Bakugou Katsuki had been sulking at the window ever since he plopped into the seat across him. 

He had been sitting in brooding silence for what felt like fifteen minutes and the expression on his face hadn’t changed. If there were any at all, it was only that his scowl grew bigger.

“As much as I like hanging out with you, I have to say this is getting a little…weird.” 

Kirishima briefly flitted to the counter to see curious eyes on them, “My colleagues are starting to think we’re dating.”

Tonight was the fourth time Bakugou had come to find him right as he was knocking off from his part-time job this week. 

“Who gives a fuck about what they think?” Bakugou muttered gruffly,  finally looking away from the outside.  

Kirishima had known him ever since they met in middle school to know the scowl on Bakugou’s face was…well, his default expression. 

Long enough for him to tell at one glance that the scowl he’d been seeing on Bakugou’s face was different. This one seemed to come right out from the depth of his fierce vermilion eyes — Bakugou was upset.

And it was about you.

No matter how hard Bakugou tried to hide how much he was a sucker for you, Kirishima could always tell. 

Even though they had matured into college students, Bakugou was still the same stubborn guy who wasn’t the most comfortable displaying his affections openly.

Mere mentions of you would soften the scowl on his face, and the rough edge in his voice. It was easy for anyone else to miss the difference but it was obvious to Kirishima. 

His grumpy complaints about how clingy and touchy you are were one of their common topics in their conversations. The annoyance scowling in his eyes when he did was always subtly soft and warm. 

But something changed, as Bakugou had mentioned, in the recent two weeks.

Nights in his dormitory room were spent alone. He was so used to falling asleep and waking up, to the sight of you curling up right next to him.

The last time he saw you were from afar, watching you rushing off to somewhere. 

Dates with you, even as simple as a meal in the cafeteria was scarce. 

Your replies to his texts were late and sometimes curt. The usual ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ from you, if you didn’t spend the night with him, were no longer…usual. 

Sometimes his messages to you would be left hanging for days before you replied.

The tone when Bakugou was telling him about all these strange distances between them was nonchalant, but the scowl on his face told Kirishima a different story.

Kirishima tried to think of something to say, but all he could think of in the end was the same thing he’d been saying ever since Bakugou shared this with him.

“Stop worrying man, she’s probably just busy?”

Bakugou’s face carried a carefully blanked expression as he raised his eyes to meet Kirishima’s.

“…Or maybe she’s losing interest in me.” 

His arm was tucked between his pillow and his head as his other held his phone to his face. Vermilion eyes stared blankly at the quiet chatroom he shared with you, particularly fixated on your last reply to him.

Two days ago.

The gloom hung over his gaze these days were like the dreary seasons of dull, gray monsoons. 

The hopeful morning sun filtering into his room through the wooden window blinds above him was a startling contrast, and so was the lively laughter ringing out from the basketball court somewhere near the dormitory blocks. 

Probably some idiots shoving snow at each others’ faces, Bakugou thought seethingly as he clicked his tongue in annoyance at a particular spike of volume in the ruckus downstairs. 

It was Saturday and the morning was already—

His eyes flitted to the time written in the corner of his screen.

— halfway to noon.

A quiet sigh left him.

Like on Saturdays, he should be on the way to meet you for your usual brunch. Except things weren’t quite ‘usual’ anymore.

Bakugou released another sigh as he let his phone fall away from his face along with his raised arm, landing on the bed under him with a muffled ‘plop’.

His forehead ridged with a scowl. Just how did he fuck things up?

His memories sifted through the times he called you names and how you would still smile back at him like he was your whole world as if he didn’t just call you an idiot, a nerd, or a moron. 

A bitter taste of guilt entered his mouth.

Maybe he shouldn’t have assumed that you knew he was feeling affectionate when he did?

Perhaps you’ve grown sick of him? And realized that you didn’t need a shitty boyfriend who called you insulting names or would shrug off your affections as if they were annoyances.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth as a frustrated hiss slipped from him.

Shit, maybe he did fuck up afterall. Fucked up big time.

And he was probably going to lose you. Everything that made you…you.

The way you smiled at him with a loving, bright glint in your eyes as if he was the one who put the stars in the sky.

The sweet kisses you love to plant on his lips and forehead.

How your hand would hold onto his — small but warm with your love.

Bakugou felt his throat swell with the presence of forming tears as his heart twinged in his chest.

The idea of losing all that spurred a rush of panic in him.

Bakugou shot off his bed, put on the nearest shirt and jeans he could grab, and hurried out of his room.

The first place Bakugou thought to look for you was your dormitory but his worst fear made him hesitate at your door, with a hand hovering over its handle. 

In fact, he’d thought about doing this for the past two weeks but the wisps of doubts whispering nasty things wouldn’t let him.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth.

What if there was someone else— 

Bakugou shoved the unfinished thought aside; it was unbearable to even think about that possibility. 

His scowling gaze snapped to his hesitating hand and his lips instantly curled into a sneer to a spark of irritation within.

What was with him? He was starting to remind himself of Deku, hesitating outside doors with twiddling thumbs like a wimp.

He was Bakugou Katsuki and he should be announcing his arrival by bursting through one.

Man, you thought you could finally enjoy a good night’s sleep after countless of sleepless nights.

But no…nope. 

The heater just had to break down at an ungodly hour when you were still trudging through the last thesis for your project and you could find no other alternative places to work on them. 

Bakugou came across your mind but again, it was crazy late or more accurately, early to budge into your boyfriend’s room.

Like every other night, you’d been tirelessly working on it so you could finally submit the project you’d been assigned since two weeks ago.

It was the infamous final year project you’ve dreaded ever since you heard about it from your senior — dubbed as ‘the project from hell’.

And indeed, it was a project from hell. It seemed to suck out your very soul. The exhaustion weighing you down like lead ran bone deep, that even lifting your head off your pillow was such a struggle.

With a broken heater sitting uselessly in your room, you’d spent the whole night wrapped in your blanket, with the lingering winter chill prickling at your skin. 

So you couldn’t help sighing at the sudden warmth enveloping your body after spending the night shivering away under your blanket at the mercy of the dropping temperature.

Your arms found their way around the heat source.

You didn’t see the tender curl of his lips when you sighed blissfully and nuzzled into his chest or the softening glint in the usual fierce edge held in his vermilion eyes.

It was like nestling inside a warm cocoon that…

— awareness seeping into your groggy senses pried your eyes open.  

…breathed.

What or rather who greeted you lifted you right out of your morning grogginess and struck you with an overwhelming barrage of emotions.

“…Ka-Katsuki!” You missed him so much.

Along with how the shadows and sunlight filtering in from behind you fell across and highlighted his chiseled profile, there was something about the way his intense eyes looked down at you with his head leaning against an arm. 

This sight gave your heart a fluttery squeeze.

You weren’t sure why Bakugou looked so strikingly handsome like this — maybe it was because you haven’t seen him for awhile?

“When did you come in here?” Words started pouring out of your mouth. 

You’ve always wanted to vent and rant about the dumb project to Bakugou so there was too much you wanted to say, 

“Oh my god, you’ve no idea how much busy I was these few weeks-” but the brooding look that hadn’t left Bakugou stopped you.”…Katsuki?”

You’d never seen Bakugou look this down before, and it didn’t sit right with you.

You hesitated but asked anyway.“…What’s wrong?” 

The cloud that fell over his eyes told you that something was definitely wrong.

“…I’m sorry, (Name).”

You grew concerned as you tried to understand his unreadable demeanor. “What’s this about— ”

“Are you losing interest in me?”

Your next breath was caught in your throat at his strange question and the only thing you could do was blurt out a —“What?”

You watch him exhale carefully with a bewildered look. 

Bakugou didn’t even care how he looked to you now.

“Look, I know I’m a huge fuck-up as a boyfriend and you probably think I don’t care about our relationship cause I act like I don’t.”

There was so much to say, so much guilt brimming inside him. 

“But shit, I do care.”

He was desperate. 

He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t. He loved you but he was an idiot for not showing that to you. 

So he needed to let you know now.

His hand on your waist pulled you up to him and his eyes were pinned on yours.

Your mouth opened, then snapped close at the silent, blazing gleam in his gaze.

Your voice had fled at the way he stared at you. 

Longing and heavy with remorse.

“Stay with me,” His lips brushed lightly across yours as his voice cracked with an aching need.” …please.”

He kissed you and the world fell away.

[mandareeboo]

ok now im curious what your most petty thing is (regarding the dp post)

Oooh boy, here we go! Buckle up fuckers this is gonna be a longer one.

My senior year of high school, I took a creative writing class. Partially because I needed to fill the slot, mostly because I wanted to improve my writing (spoiler: I did not). Now, my high school was a three floor building- first was mostly gym, second was general, and the third was senior lockers and art classes. I spent a good chunk of my schedule senior year on the second and third floor, going between an art class to my earth science (I took that one entirely as filler, but also bc I like science) to my locker and so on.

Creative writing? Creative writing was in the fucking basement. Go to the first floor, go to a corner generally used for health and development classes, to another corner, follow a ramp and some stairs, and boom there it is kind of basement. (Side note but this teacher was REALLY into attendance and would get you in trouble if you were late which was really annoying since basically no other class was in that part of the building).

My creative writing teacher wasn't bad, per se. I've had worse teachers. I had an algebra teacher who delighted in making freshman girls cry and mocking them for it. I had a journalism teacher who would use her class time reporting how Hilary was secretly ill during the election. I had a history teacher say trans people weren't real to an openly gender nonconforming student (I didn't know them well enough to ask for specifics on their alignment, but they were using they/them at that point) and set up assignments just to mock students on the take they were told to make. It was more that she was uncreative and took it out on the kids doing creative writing.

She gave us two books to read. Basically “how I write” by published authors. I don’t remember the first one well enough and I donated it ages ago, but the second was Stephen King’s “On Writing”. It was 3/4′s personal stories about his life and 1/4′s “also write a bit every day”.  I mostly remember the first author bc she had those fake dreadlocks white people do when they destroy their hair and she gleefully told a story about making her son have a meltdown at a party or wedding or something bc he got overwhelmed and she wanted him to learn that “sometimes you don’t get what you want”. So. You know. Not much there.

She also instructed us to write in a journal every day, which she would check every few months or so. It had to be at least half a page. She would leave little comments in every one else’s journals when she checked them, but not mine- I realized pretty quickly she was a bit uncomfortable with LGBT+ content, so I made it my mission to make every journal drabble as gay as possible bc I was bored and she couldn’t mark them WRONG when she just stated we needed to write.

But it doesn’t end there! Through the entire class, we got exactly five writing projects. Stories that follow very specific guidelines that we would then read in front of the class, group proofread, and then have the teacher give final grades for. These things were approximately like a thousand words a piece, and I was writing out my 10,000 word “It Starts off Small” story in class when I got bored, so it wasn’t difficult. 

Our first project was a character going through a difficult decision. Or... something? I honestly forget the criteria. Anyway, I was HYPE. I’d had this idea for a long time now a human choosing between peaceful death or reincarnation, and this gave me the push to write it! I had a whole thing planned with death being a deer and reincarnation being a wolpertinger (bc reincarnation leads to many possibilities, ed boy, so a Frankenstein bunny made sense to me). Anyway I poured my heart and soul into this bastard and, bright eyed and bushy tailed, handed it in. My classmates all thought it was pretty good. Not to toot m’own horn, but there was some pretty bad ones going in, so I thought I’d get a solid B or something.

I got a D. I guess the struggle was too metaphorical, or it didn’t perfectly fit her criteria. I was devastated. Then I was mad. Bc I was a bored senior who thought they’d made something pretty decent for this completely optional class and her refusal to see that really hurt me at sixteen (I was always a year younger than my other classmates, so despite being a senior I didn’t turn eighteen until almost a year after graduation)

Well, fuck it, I decided. I’m going to parody the shit out of this class.

Our next project was a fantasy story. I was bitter and grumpy. The other fantasy stories read aloud were stuff like “yeah this dude fought a wizard and got a girl, then they went home and banged” (this was not hyperbole, he would’ve written and read the smut if allowed, I knew him personally) and “this girl that NO ONE UNDERSTOOD was called CRAZY but this S@!$ cheerleader who Stole Her Boyfriend so she killed them all” (fun fact: the girl who wrote that was my age and a sort of half-friend from middle school. She was a yaoi fangirl who didn’t mind lesbians as long as they, you know, didn’t FLIRT with her or something.) 

So I get up there. It’s the last day of presentations. And I present with a polite cheer. My story is about two magical shepherd type figures who are called Sister Brighten and Brother Dick as they chase down a werewolf who was drunk off his ass and accidentally bit someone else. They then revealed they were basically supernatural designated drivers for the whole town. I made Brighten mention that Dick’s name wasn’t even Richard. I titled it “His Favorite Brand is Grayhound”. It fit every single criteria. I got an A. I could tell she didn’t want to, because there was no comments or anything like everyone else’s, but she had to follow her own criteria.

Our third was a conjoined effort thing so I didn’t pull any fuckery there, but the fourth one was about common myths and spinning them into real or fake. One girl did the hook-handed door handle thing and the boyfriend ended up above his truck hanging (somehow???). I think someone did the age-old adage of a haunted wedding dress? I kind of read through those presentations. 

Now, I’m salty-salty at this point. I wasn’t expecting His Favorite Brand is Grayhound to get me a good grade. I half-assed a lot of it. I am in full Not Happy Teenager at this point. I grab a daddy long leg and settle in.

My fourth story of the year is “Paperskin.”

Paperskin is about a boy named Billy with the thinnest skin membrane ever. Just full on body horror. You could see his teeth behind his lips. Billy gets bored one day and wanders out of his house, tries to kick a soccer ball, and breaks a leg. As he’s laying in the grass a daddy long leg bites him- and his skin is so flimsy the fangs sink in and he dies. I’m actually still pretty proud of Paperskin. It’s a horrifying, Edgar Allen Poe of a monstrosity, but it made people squirm, which was the point. The teacher is clearly a bit unnerved at this point, but she gives me another A. 

I wrote a more “normal” story after that of a contentious objector forced to house kids going to see if any confirmed soldier deaths were any of their parents as my final one and I could feel her spite as she gave me a B.

So, yeah. That’s the story of when I tormented my creative writing teacher with The Gays and my weird ass sense of humor after she called one of my best works at that age a piece of shit.

 Here’s a google drive of these bad boys, because yes I do still have these things. I turned these fuckers in for grades, people.

[littleturtle95]

I just found you on my dash as a rec but can you write a 🦸‍♂️ about the first ship that comes to your mind right now

Of course I can! Thanks for the ask 🥰

You said first ship that comes to mind, so...

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“You’re-” Eddie said, outraged. “Excuse me, what?”

“You’re welcome for saving your life, you know.”

“Oh, of course balloon man. Because it totally worked.”

“It looks like you’re pretty much alive.”

“It looks like we’re pretty much tied up.”

“They were going to kill you, you ungrateful prick! And I’m not balloon man. My name is Helyum and I manipulate air. I can do almost everything. I fly, I can make storms, I even can scoop the clouds away if I don’t like when it’s raining!”

“Just for you know, helium is the thing they put in balloons that makes your voice all shitty.”

“It’s Helyum, with the y. And the element is in the air you breathe. It’s science.”

“So you can’t make animal shaped balloons with your power? That’s lame, I thought you said you could do almost everything.”

“You know what? I saved many people in my career but you’re the most annoying after that old lady who gave me expired chocolate to thank me! It expired in 1993, can you believe it? I had to let go of some mugglers that same night because I had to run to the bathroom!”

“I really didn’t want to hear that, balloon man.”

“It’s Helyum!”

“And you didn’t save me, we’ve been kidnapped.”

“Remember what I said about you being the most annoying after that lady? Well, you’re about to take first prize!”

“Why don’t you free us with your powers?”

“Because to use my powers I need my hands. And to use my hands they shouldn’t be all tied up!”

“You’re the lamest superhero I’ve ever seen.”

“You know what? I’m tied up and I’m that into brats, so if you keep doing what you’re doing I’m going to have a serious problem down here.”

“Oh, dear God Richie-” he said, then he flinched and shut his mouth immediately, already cringing for the mistake.

“What? How did you call me?”

“Listen, it’s not what it-”

“Eds, you… you knew?”

Eddie huffed. “Of course I knew! I’m not stupid! You disappeared a lot lately, and this stupid alterego was always on the news! And you do weird shit sometimes, I think I’ve seen you fly when you thought I wasn’t looking. I’m actually more surprised that not every one of your colleagues know!”

“Let me get this straight, no pun intended…”

“Richard.”

“What? I said no pun intended!” he said, defensive. “You insisted on going alone on this idiot mission to see if I was going to come and keep an eye on you?”

“Maybe,” Eddie muttered.

“So basically it’s your fault if we’re tied up like idiots.”

“Well, I thought your powers were less lame.”

“Eds, you could have died! You can’t just pull these stunts to expose me!”

“Well, it worked now, didn’t it?”

20 fics celebrations – that’s actually 50

[the-final-sif]

"i trust you" under the lying quirk oh no that killed me. Imagine the bakugous in the katsuki hakamata au but without anybody realizing whats going on so baby doesnt get adopted (canon?), and Bakugou not trusting adults ohhhh dear

God, Katsuki getting hit by a lying quirk would be super interesting.

I think it’d have to be that he bumped into someone, maybe someone in gen ed or a kid or something. They don’t realize their quirk activated because Katsuki yelled at them afterwards and they thought he was fine.

The rules for the quirk are a bit more complex than just forcing someone to say stuff that’s untrue, it forces a person to try to deceive other people.

As such:

Any form of communication is affected, although to varying degrees.

The quirk compels the affected person to deceive other people on any given matter. This can mean telling lies directly, but it also means the person will dodge questions/refuse to answer if simply lying would reveal the truth.

Speech/typing/writing is all forced to be lies in some form or another.

Body language/facial expressions are somewhat effected, although less so.

The quirk lasts for 24 hours or so.

Katsuki gets to class, and he feels fine right up until a teacher asks him a question. He opens his mouth to tell them the answer, but instead finds himself saying he doesn’t know. He’s extremely confused as this pattern repeats. When Mina asks if he’s okay after their first class, he tries to tell her something’s wrong, only to find himself saying that everything’s fine and to mind her own business.

This keeps up until lunch, by which point, Izuku has solidly picked up that something is wrong with Katsuki. He approaches Katsuki about it towards the end of lunch, only to have Katsuki look him in the eye and say, “Everything’s fucking fine with me, Midoriya.”

Good news; This clearly communicates to Izuku that something is wrong.

Bad news; Izuku has anxiety, and Katsuki has never called him by his last name, so he assumes that he did something horribly wrong and offended Katsuki without meaning to. He tries to apologize and ask what he did, but it’s ineffective and Izuku retreats to try and figure it out.

This means that Kirishima approaches Katsuki, also trying to figure out what’s wrong with him. He asks Katsuki what’s bothering him, and Katsuki tells him that He’s bothering him. Because of the lying quirk, Katsuki sounds so serious that Kirishima is now convinced it’s something that both he and Izuku did, so he also leaves Katsuki alone for fear of angering him further.

Lunch ends with the whole class on edge and trying to figure out what Kirishima and Izuku did. One of the students, probably Iida, informs Midnight whose their next teacher that something seems to be wrong with Katsuki. He indicates that it’s some sort of serious friendship fight/emotional issue. Midnight pulls Katsuki out of class ahead of time to speak to him, telling him that he can talk to her if something’s up.

Katsuki looks at her, and all he can see are images in his mind of being chained up at the sports festival. A muzzle in his mouth, chains on his arms, fucking thousands of people watching, and her part in putting him there. It’s been awhile, but that’s the sorta shit that’s hard to overcome. Particularly after it got broadcast on national TV, and villains decided they liked what they saw.

So, with all of that in mind, his mouth opens and he speaks in a reluctant but oddly soft voice.

“I fucking trust you, and I’ll tell you if there’s shit I want to talk about, but there’s nothing on my mind right now.”

And Midnight buys it. Later, in the staff room, she’ll brag to the other teachers about it. That she was the first one Katsuki said he trusted. It strikes Aizawa as odd, but he doesn’t speak up for fear of being called jealous. Maybe he is, a bit.

In the meantime, a grouchy Katsuki returns to class to suffer through the rest of the day, telling lie after lie of “I’m fine.”. He says a few odd things, like telling Denki that he ‘well and truly thinks he’s a complete moron without even a flicker of light on in that head of his’, mentioning in response to someone that he’s never gotten a nightmare in his life, and pissily telling Uraraka that she’s a total coward who he doesn’t even have an ounce of respect for. Everyone assumes he’s just in an awful mood though, and takes to avoiding him.

At the end of training for the day, Katsuki took a few hits which he blows off any concerns about and stomps his way back to the dorms. Tired, frustrated, and hoping he can just sleep off the quirk. His plan is to hide in his room until it’s over.

Only, Kirishima just can’t let sleeping dogs lie. He knocks on the door until Katsuki opens up, only to be greeted by his friend’s tear stained face.

Kirishima gives a watery, heart felt apology, asking Katsuki to please tell him what he did, because Kirishima has been desperately trying to figure it out but he can’t come up with anything. He promises he didn’t mean to hurt Katsuki, but he knows the other is clearly genuinely upset about it, so for their sake of their friendship, won’t Katsuki please tell him what he did wrong?

And in that moment, all Katsuki can think about is how much he cares about Kirishima. How much he doesn’t deserve a friend this kind and good. His mouth takes hold of that thought, eyes narrowing in anger that isn’t his own, and they start shaping out, horrible, horrible words.

“I hate y-”

Katsuki is cut off by himself slamming the door shut, having wrestled back a tiny bit of control from the quirk to prevent himself from saying something he can’t ever take back. He locks the door and steels himself against Kirishima’s crying, because even though every part of him wants to go comfort his friend, he knows he can’t.

It’s silent for a long, long time after that.

Given that that was such a shitshow, Katsuki’s expecting to be left alone for the evening. He doesn’t think there’s anyone else in the dorms stupid enough to come try to talk to him after Kirishima was sent sobbing.

Surprise though, there is!

Shouto had heard about what happened with Kirishima, after he spent most of the evening trying to console a panicked and heartbroken Izuku. Comforting people is hard for him, and he feels like he’s doing a shit job of it. So instead, he decided to try to solve the mystery of what’s going on. He’s not sure what Katsuki’s deal is, but he’s going to get to the bottom of it, even if he has to break down Katsuki’s door to do it.

To rephrase that a little;

Shouto breaks down Katsuki’s door after he refuses to answer, to try to get to the bottom of what’s going on.

After a bit of angry yelling, Shouto demands to know what Kirishima and Izuku did to upset Katsuki so much. Katsuki wants desperately to say that they didn’t do anything, but again the quirk forces him to lie.

“They know what they fucking did!”

Shouto, whose stubbornness can match Katsuki’s on a good day, shoots back that the two of them don’t know what they did, and that Katsuki needs to explain what’s causing him to behave so weirdly. Again though,

“Those assholes know what they did, and I’m not fucking behaving weirdly!”

And then a thought strikes Katsuki, and out of desperation, he tries something.

“Those assholes know what they did, and I’m not fucking behaving weirdly!”

One more time, red eyes fixed on Shouto now, pleading.

“Those assholes know what they did, and I’m not fucking behaving weirdly!”

He can’t repeat the phrase again, the quirk has caught onto his trick, so now he’s left wondering if Shouto got the message.

Here’s the thing. Shouto can be dense at times. He really can be. But he’s also willing to leap to ridiculous conclusions based on limited evidence, and sometimes, just sometimes, that’s exactly what a situation calls for. Maybe it’s Katsuki saying it three times, or maybe it’s the desperate look in his eyes, but Shouto gets the hint.

“Katsuki, what color is your hair?”

It’s a weird fucking question, but Katsuki is relieved knowing that Shouto’s got it now. He finds himself dodging the question, getting hostile, but Shouto stays patient and firm, demanding an answer and asking other, simple, straight forward questions that Katsuki is unable to answer. After a handful of those, he’s convinced Katsuki is unable to say the truth, and he connects the dots that Katsuki’s been hit by a quirk.

Obviously, he takes this information to Aizawa, who in turn checks the school’s cameras from that morning. There they find the student that Katsuki ran into, and get an explanation on the rules of the quirk. It’s only 24 hours, which is almost up, so really all that’s left to do is for Shouto to go tell the others what’s been going on.

Oh, and Aizawa has to check on Katsuki, because unfortunately he distinctly recalls the kid saying he was fine after training that day when Aizawa asked if he’d taken any hits.

Aziawa has to ask a number of questions to suss out if Katsuki is actually okay. Not to mention trying to get permission to check and wrap Katsuki’s (thankfully minor) injuries from training. It’s uncomfortable as hell for him, but some of Katsuki’s answers give him pause.

“Fuck off, I don’t trust you.“ 

“I don’t want you here. Leave." 

“You’re the last person I want to see right now.”

And sure, it’s not quite the same as hearing Katsuki say that he trusted him or that he wanted Aizawa there, and Aizawa’s not going to take anything said under the quirk at face value, but it still warms his heart a bit. Because he knows what the kid is really saying.

In the afterwards, once the quirk is gone, Katsuki is tackle hugged by Kirishima who he assures he is not mad at. Izuku is still crying, but he’s always crying, and it’s a better sort of crying this time as he joins in on the hug that Katsuki reluctantly allows. There’s some teasing, but mostly the class doesn’t take what happened to heart.

Midnight pulls Katsuki aside again to talk, and after this whole mess, he’s just very tired. After he confirms he said what he said the day prior under the influence of the quirk, she’s hurt, asking if that’s really how he feels. If he really doesn’t trust his own teacher. And Katsuki knows this is when he’s supposed to comfort her, but he’s too fucking done for that shit.

Instead, he gives her an exhausted look and asks her what she expected after the sports festival. It catches her off guard, but he doesn’t relent, saying that he said what he said. The quirks worn off now, so If she wants someone to lie to her to make her feel better about what happened, then she’ll need to find someone else, because Katsuki doesn’t do lying. Then he leaves, because he’s got other shit to do.

And after that Fun Talk, and after this entire experience, Katsuki is emotionally raw, but he still has to talk with Aizawa. It’s a thankfully quick conversation, but afterwards he mumbles out a thanks to his teacher. Then even more hesitantly, he double checks that Aizawa knew Katsuki was lying when he said those things last night.

Aizawa says of course, he understands it was the quirks effects and he’s not holding it against Katsuki. Katsuki replies that that’s good, and then quietly and quickly, he makes eye contact with and says he does trust him, and there’s nobody else he would’ve rather handle that situation. Katsuki being Katsuki, he barely gets the words out before he’s off in a huff with his face red, leaving his teacher in shock behind him.

Somehow, despite all the chaos caused, Aizawa still finds himself secretly glad for that stupid quirk.

[cuttlefishkitch]

hello! i haven't talked to you before, but ron said that i could ask you for some advice on writing eds? (i'd like to know things to avoid/common things that could come up in everyday life that would be good to mention/the sort of aids and stuff they'd have maybe?/anything else you think is relevant)

Hi! Sorry this took so long, a combination of ADHD and chronic pain slowed me way the fuck down. Thank you for being patient! 

EDIT: WEIRD HEEL THINGS I FORGOT!!

So, before I get into this I should probably say I technically haven’t been diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome (EDS for anyone reading) because it’s one of those syndromes that takes forever to get diagnosed with (it took a friend of mine’s mother over 30 years to get dxed). Many doctors, and everyone I know who does have EDS agree with me that it’s probably what causes my chronic joint pain and some of my other chronic issues. But just because three separate doctors have said “Yeah Probably” doesn’t mean I’m diagnosed!! Only a geneticist can do that!! And they had two-three year waitlists BEFORE the apocalypse happened.

I am diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), Small Fiber Neuropathy, and potentially misdiagnosed with Fibromyalgia (once I get properly tested for EDS I might get undiagnosed with this because I don’t have most of the main symptoms of Fibro, but I got diagnosed with it anyway because it’s what doctors misDX you with when they don’t know what’s wrong with you and don’t want to do more tests).

All that said, I’ve done a lot of research about EDS (mainly because it’s the only thing that explains all my symptoms since doctors seem incapable of doing so), and know a few people who have either confirmed or suspected EDS, so I’ll link to some stuff, talk about the symptoms that often come with EDS, explain how the symptoms I have affect me, because just because someone’s not diagnosed doesn’t mean they aren’t having symptoms, and probs elaborate a bit about writing physical disabilities and chronic pain in general because it’s super important to me! 

So RESOURCES aka how to make sure your post never sees the light of day because you’re linking things and tumblr hates it when people give other people information!!

Youtubers! If you want to know about the day to day of living with EDS or any disability or chronic illness I super suggest finding a youtuber that makes videos about their life. My EDS favorites are

Jessica Kellgren-Fozard

Annie Elainey

Amy Lee Fisher

Websites! If you’re asking random folks on tumblr I’m assuming (and hoping) you’ve already done the basic WebMD google searches and looked over the seemingly ridiculous lists of symptoms and related conditions, so here are a few websites that are made more for people than for doctors.

The Ehlers Danlos Society

OhTWIST (That’s Why I’m So Tired)

ChronicPainPartners (the fact that they have an entire section of articles called “Dealing with Doctors” should really tell you something)

Books! If you feel like doing actual reading! I suggest reading books written by people with Ehlers Danlos, to get a feel for how they portray themselves. I’m not saying steal, but it’s probably a good point of comparison to see how your portrayal feels. (haven’t actually read these b/c my ADHD doesn’t let me read)

Ria Ruse by Morgan S. Ray (a superhero book with a disabled super MC!!)

Mysteries of Maybelle by Imani Benfell (Imani is still in high school and has already written and self-published a book cause she didn’t have enough representation for herself how cool is she!!)

Bodies in Motion by Liana Brooks (tw for pregnancy problems and miscarriages in the link, because it’s a blog post talking about integrating EDS symptoms into the story without explicitly naming them as such)

OKAY, now for some rambling about EDS SYMPTOMS!!!

Ehlers Danlos is one monster of a genetic condition in complexity and variety. There are THIRTEEN different identified types of EDS, it often comes with Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) and/or POTS, and can lead to various other conditions like gastroparesis, chiari malformation, craniocervical instability, and/or bad teeth. So if you’re going to be writing a character with EDS consider what other comorbid conditions they might also have. I’m mainly going to be talking about Hypermobile EDS (hEDS) because it’s what I probably have and what I’m most familiar with. That said there is a lot of overlap in symptoms with the other varieties.

I started typing this section and realized I was going to have to break it down even more so we’re going to talk about Chronic Pain, Unstable Joints (Dislocations and Subluxations), Skin Things, Mobility Issues, and Other Weird Shit and how those things get addressed separately.

Gonna get the Other Weird Shit out of the way first. Because EDS is a malfunction of connective tissue it can fuck up all sorts of random things. For instance, I and many other people w/ hEDS have trouble swallowing. Shit gets stuck in my throat, I sometimes choke on and have to cough up food, and pills can be hard to swallow, which sucks cause I take A Lot Of Pills. If it doesn’t cause full-on gastroparesis it can cause IBS or other digestive problems b/c the digestive tract is mostly made of connective tissue. It can potentially cause heart problems even if they aren’t as big of a risk as in some other forms of EDS. Premature osteoarthritis is common because what you need is more joint pain. And Fatigue OH BOY THE FATIGUE. And of course the headaches, can’t forget those pesky migraines can we!

AND piezogenic papules!! I completely forgot!! Piezogenic papules are little white bumps that appear when you put weight on your heel. In some people they hurt, but in others they don’t. They’re technically tiny little herniations of fat peaking through the fascia in the heel. They were added as part of the diagnostic criteria for hEDS in 2017!

Now for Skin Things cause it’s not as big a thing in hEDS as it is in other forms. Basically, in a lot of forms of EDS, the skin is extra stretchy and extra delicate. It bruises and tears easily, people with the extreme versions of this can accidentally scratch something into an open wound if they aren’t careful. My skin is pretty soft and sensitive, I def have the typical velvety skin, and as is pretty par for the course of someone with hEDS my skin is a little stretchy, and sorta delicate. I’m not as tissue-papery as some people get, but I almost always have at least one mystery bruise or scrape b/c existing is hazardous. Most of scars are also pretty normal, unlike the extremely papery and atrophic scars (though I have a few tiny acne scars that are atrophic) that are common with other kinds of hEDS. Something that I DO have is Lots of Stretch Marks, all over my thighs, and even down to my calves. Which wouldn’t be abnormal, except for the fact that I’ve never been over 145 lbs and I’ve never been pregnant. Having a lot of stretch marks or striations in the skin without due cause happens because the structure of the skin isn’t as strong as it is in people with a normal amount of connective tissue.

I don’t have to worry as much about my skin but people that do are usually very careful with adhesives because they can irritate or tear the skin, which sucks when you need a lot of bandaids cause your darn skin won’t do its job.

Now on to the meatier stuff and since I’m mostly working backward let’s do Mobility Issues!! These can happen in loads of ways, but a lot of what causes these in people with EDS are the other two things I wanna talk about. Unstable joints lead to increased risk of injury when doing stuff people with fully functioning joints can do.

For context, I’m an ambulatory wheelchair user, meaning I can walk, but a lot of the time it’s better if use a chair. Mine is mostly for my POTS symptoms, but the fact that my legs aren’t also in absolute agony is a big plus. I use a custom manual wheelchair with a SmartDrive (b/c I’m very fucking fortunate and have good insurance) whenever I leave the house and have to be “walking” for more than a few minutes at a time. I can’t fully self-propel in a manual chair because it would be damaging to the joints in my arms and hands, but the smaller chair is easier to maneuver in less than accessible spaces (like almost everywhere). There was about a month-long span where I used a very cheap and very bulky electric chair while I was waiting on the ideal set up I have now. Before that, I also briefly used, and sometimes still use, an up-right posture cane.

People with EDS have widely varying mobility issues because of how uniquely it can manifest. My cane only gave me a little help with balance because if I used it in any prolonged capacity any pain it took away from my legs was relocated to my arms, and as an artist, my arms are more important to me!

If you’re going to write a character with EDS having mobility issues as a result of their EDS the best thing to do is to narrow down their specific needs. Are their knees complete and utter garbage but their shoulders and wrists strong? Maybe they can get away with using a cane. Can they not stand for longer than 5 minutes because of the vertigo from their POTS? Maybe they need a manual wheelchair. Would propelling themself damage their back and arm joints? An electric chair might be necessary! Plenty of people with EDS use all sorts of combinations of these aides to get around their life, consider how your character’s good and bad days would be. Do they have back up plans if they overestimate themselves? There can be a lot to manage, but don’t let it scare you off! Sometimes I try and make it into a resource management game (because I’m a game designer and that’s what I do), to make evaluating my energy and mobility needs more fun!

But now let's tackle some of the reasons those mobility aides might be needed. Unstable Joints.

Ever stepped wrong and rolled your ankle? It hurts for a few steps and then kinda fixes itself, or maybe it bothers you for the rest of the day and you put it up and ice it when you get home? When I was walking around outside my house that would happen AT LEAST once a month, usually more. Some times I’m sitting wrong and when I get up my knee isn’t a knee anymore and decides to just give out from under me. My knuckles are made of unruly popcorn and they Don’t Want To Stay Home!! Oh! And my shoulder is more often out a little out of its socket than it is fully in.

Unstable joints lead to Dislocations and Subluxations of varying intensity, and some people get them more frequently than others. Some can be severe enough to necessitate hospital visits and even surgery, some subluxations are so banal (like my fUCKING SHOULDER) that you just learn to live with the pain.

If a character is going to be in high action, combat-heavy scenarios, chances are they’re going to be popping out joints left and right. Hell, depending on the severity of their joint laxity they could be doing the same sitting at a desk. Again, it’s incredibly varied. I’d suggest setting some sort of baseline for yourself, of what a character’s joints can and can’t stand up to, and maybe do some research on which joints are most likely to pop out in general (hips and shoulders are big culprits being the wacky ball and socket motherfuckers they are). Then maybe have something pop out or hold up every so often when it shouldn’t cause hey! EDS is kinda just like that! Unpredictable!

Some ways people manage joint laxity is with braces, KT tape, and physical therapy. Braces come in many different forms, since I’m currently getting pretty much no treatment for my shitty joints I use mostly compression braces made for sporty people. It really is amazing how much a bit of tight fabric can do to keep my wrist in place.

More specialized braces often have solid parts to prevent the joints from hyper-extending (bending the wrong way) and causing further damage. If you ever see someone with what looks like diamond shaped rings around a bunch of their finger joints, chances are those are Ring Splints, and are there to keep the finger shaped like a finger. I want to get my hands on some and get some on my hands Very Badly, because my fingers hyper-extend SO MUCH when I type, and it makes my hand pain way way worse.

KT tape is another thing people often use. It’s stretchy tape you put on your skin and it basically functions kinda like a second ligament as well as reinforcing the joint and keeping the bones mostly where they’re supposed to be. The problem with this is a lot of people with EDS have very sensitive and fragile skin like I mentioned before, so KT tape can cause allergic reactions, chronic skin irritation, or just straight up take the skin with it when someone goes to remove it. Hence a lot of folks are really careful with it.

Physical Therapy is kinda the best (and only) treatment for joint laxity aside from Very Invasive and sometimes Highly Experimental surgery. It focuses on strengthening the muscles around the joints so they can do the work all those bone ropes made of body glue can’t. The problem is finding a physical therapist that 1) knows what EDS even is, 2) knows you have it, and 3) knows how to treat it without doing stuff that’ll Phucking Hurt You Worse!! Because exercising wrong with EDS can do Permanent Damage!!!

Again most folks use a combination of all of these things, or have next to no access to them b/c healthcare sucks.

Anyway, on to one of my favorite topics, Chronic Pain!! One of the reasons this post took me so long!!!

Chances are if your character has chronic pain as a result of their EDS there are gonna be some things they hate, including stairs, rain, thunderstorms, stairs, hills, uneven terrain, oh and did I mention stairs??? It’s going to vary person to person, but almost everyone I’ve met with pain from EDS has complained about their knees. For me the most debilitating pain is in my fingers and wrists. They’re by far my least stable joints but I use them constantly for stuff like drawing, typing, and sewing.

Because my joint pain is so wide spread, like most people’s with hEDS, it effects every single part of my day to day life. I can’t carry a heavy ceramic plate, open a bottle, or even use my computer without pain. It’s practically impossible for me to get comfortable in any position be it sitting or laying down, and as you can imagine that makes it hard to sleep a lot of the time. Moving too much hurts, but so does sitting still. I’m constantly taking braces on and off or cracking/stretching my joints so they pop back into place and hurt less.

Also being in pain makes everything else That Much Worse. I get tired way faster than I did before my pain was this bad (I had chronic pain for a while before actually realizing it wasn’t normal to not be able to walk down the block without feeling like your foot bones are trying to escape). My sensory issues and anxiety disorder are more easily aggravated because my base level of comfort is way worse. It fucks with my depression. And OH BOY does it make my ADHD worse because being in pain is fucking distracting as hell and makes it harder to make decisions and switch tasks. Also my ADHD often makes my other symptoms worse cause I forget to take my meds, don’t drink enough water, or can’t find my fucking braces because the item eating black-hole that comes with ADHD stole them. The intersection of mental and physical disabilities is probably a rant for another time though, so back to chronic pain.

Does it suck? Yes, undoubtedly. Is this incredibly debilitating? Of course it is, I spent the last several months unable to feed myself without assistance because there was a staircase between my room and the kitchen and I could only manage to climb it once a day. Is it overwhelming? Definitely, I’ve frequently broken down crying from a combination of pain and frustration because I’m having a bad day and there’s no relief to be found. Am I able to predict when it’s going to rain with uncanny accuracy because any change in barometric pressure makes me feel like every bone in my body is trying to kill it’s neighbors? You bet your fucking ass I am!! Does it sometimes make me irritable, angry, and occasionally dismissive of when abled people get cold or a temporary injury because the stuff they’re complaining about is my life every single day and all avenues of treatment and recovery I have could take years and still not entirely solve my issues? Yeah, and while I deserve a little extra patience I also have to be sure to check myself because I don’t want to turn into someone who’s nasty to be around. Do I sometimes need to sleep for 17 hours straight because it’s raining, I have migraine, and I’m in too much pain to be conscious? Yup, sometimes a few days in a row. Does living in constant pain mean I’m unable to do all the things I want to and does that sometimes make me wanna curl up in bed and never leave? Yeah, it happens.

But! And here’s the big important but, that’s not everything! I still write, draw, and talk to my friends!! It might take me a little longer but I get there. I’m still happy and excitable and make the time to write out five page long posts about EDS because it’s something I’m passionate about! My chronic pain doesn’t stop me. I refuse to let it. I never really wanted to go mountain climbing anyway, so I’m perfectly happy being able to make it up and down the six steps in my house, even if sometimes I have to sit and bump down them on my ass, or crawl up them like a cat. Chronic pain isn’t all I am. It isn’t a fate worse than death. It isn’t the only thing your character should talk about (though I do talk about my pain a lot cause I’m a complainer about almost everything). You can have your character be hindered by their pain, realistically they would be. You can have them seek comfort, support, and relief. Other characters can commiserate and be sympathetic, but it doesn’t mean their whole life is going to be one big pity party, that would be incredibly fucking boring. I know I’d be bored out of my mind.

All that said dealing with chronic pain, especially from EDS, is Complicated. Physical Therapy is the gold standard, but like I said before it can be a long and difficult process, and isn’t always accessible. Stabilization methods like I talked about before can help prevent pain, or reduce it by keeping bones mostly where they belong. Heat and cold help joints, relax muscles, and reduce inflammation but keeping them applied is rough and the relief doesn’t always last. Doctors prescribe anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, and sometimes even anti-epileptic medication to help manage pain, but everyone’s mileage with those varies. And I’m not at all qualified to talk in-depth about narcotics or other heavy duty pain-meds, but suffice to say the war on drugs fucked shit up for people that legit need that kind of help BIG TIME.

Now for my closer/bonus rant about EDS and Disability Writing in General!

Everyone always says write what you know, so if you really want to do disabled people justice, get to know disabled people! Make friends with disabled people, get involved with advocacy groups, consume content made by disabled creators both about disability and not! Disabilities are so fucking diverse, even EDS is such a complex disorder, and comes with so many potential co-morbidities, that practically everyone with it has a unique experience. There’s no way I can fully explain everything in a tumblr post. Hell, even if I could talk to you for hours probably couldn’t give you enough info to answer all your questions (especially since I’m still in diagnosis hell :,) ), so talk to a wide range of people with EDS and other disabilities!! I know it sounds like a lot of work but trust me, disabled people are some of the strongest, raddest, coolest, people you will ever meet that it won’t feel like it.

And don’t be afraid either, the fact that EDS and other disabilities are so wildly varied means that you have a little bit of wiggle room with your character’s experience. There’s so little disability rep out their I think people are WAY to scared to try their hand at writing it. So long as your character is a fully developed person in addition to being disabled, you give some logical thought as to how it would affect their life, and you don’t make their disability the butt of any joke it isn’t difficult to avoid ableist writing. PLEASE WRITE MORE DISABLED PEOPLE AND PEOPLE WITH CHRONIC PAIN/CHRONIC ILLNESS!!

Okay that’s it, again sorry it took so long for me to get back to you! My fingers were being little pests about it, and my ADHD (which is honestly more disabling than everything else a lot of the time lmao) was being an asshole! Hope this helps, and feel free to ask me more questions if you need clarification! It might take me a bit but I do love talking about this stuff.

[sebastianshaw]

In one of the X-Men Discord servers that I’m on, there is a section for the internal thoughts of the characters that you write. Naturally, I use this to be COMPLETELY HORRIBLE with Shaw. Here is a compiled list of things he has thought there. Read at your own risk, and trigger warning for. .  . honestly I don’t know how to begin, but if you follow this blog I figure you know I ENDORSE NONE OF THIS. under the cut for your sake

-  if you didn’t want to know about picking up a Filipino bar girl why would you ask how my day was it’s like screaming at a sushi chef for undercooking the fish -  they bring me back to life but can’t give me a new goddamn back?! -  Note to self, petition to Council to resurrect son Note to self two, remember his name and which one he is this time -  so there’s just an indeterminate number of telepathic teen girls here who look almost exactly like Emma before her nose job? I don’t even want to know at this point seriously though how many are there I can’t tell they’re goddamned identical--- -literally just going to hire this girl to scratch my back she's good at it JESUS THE RELIEF -  Aloba Dastoor is a sweet, well-mannered young man. I think I'd like to rearrange his intestines with my--- -  why does every gay man into pup play have a dead mother he didn't get to come out to what is the connection here IT'S EVERY TIME -  by damn why does no one discipline their children, you may think this is cute but everyone else is looking at you to sort your little crotch debris out or SOMEONE ELSE WILL -  that boob job is so bad she looks like a Hasbro knockoff -  you just can't be sure about a person until you know what they think of  the fall of Constantinople in 1453 by the Ottoman forces led by Mehmed II -  they're NOT bongos they are CONGAS they are the SAME SIZE -  This is less an ingrown hair at this point and more of an ingrown wig -  such a lack of decorum, I have bad days sometimes too but it hardly ever results in murder -  his arm looks like a big veiny cock never thought I'd get hard just seeing an arm -  wish you really could get oil from babies -  gold plated bare breasted - Wait so who was in the trunk - thinking about how this island doesn't have taxes is better than opioids -  It’s gonna be a closed casket funeral buddy -  it looks rather anal -  organizer my ass that fool couldn't organize a blow job if he was in a Nevada brothel with a pocket full of a hundred dollar bills -  I'd rather put up with a candiru than these people -  some people are impossible to underestimate -  cannot sit down without a beautiful woman trying for my wallet I'M FUCKING WORKING JESUS F---- -  -- wait which one is my kid fuck which one do I take maybe both maybe just say my kid wanted to bring a friend home fuck fuck fuck maybe I should just ask the daycare they have to get fathers asking that SOMETIMES should also ask if she’s free tonight --- -  fucking PLASTER in my mouth need to learn to close my fucking facehole when I barge through a wall--- - Cannot BELIEVE that woman asked me if I dropped Shinobi on the head as a child, that's making a very bold assumption that I EVER HELD HIM AT ALL -  another morning where I can’t seem to piss quite everything out, is this a resurrection issue or do I have another kidney stone - -  -not that I am complaining about the view but why don't hippies wear bras do they think it kills trees is it the rubber in the elastic since rubber comes from plants or maybe it's the metal underwire do they not like metal is that why they don't shave--- -  it's a paradox. I believe a man is responsible for his own mistakes. This means Shinobi alone is to blame for his failures. At the same time, he is -my-mistake. -  note to self, if a mother asks "but what if the baby remembers it?" the correct answer is not "then he'll know how to please a woman" -  how was I supposed to NOT laugh when it slipped out of the slave?? -  do me this, flog me that, sometimes I just want to sleep. it's been a long day. it's been a long life. - oh god I'm stuck in her like the Suez Canal -  Nope, don’t do it old boy. She’s crazy. Not typical clingy co-ed with daddy issues crazy, this is wake up with your cock in a jar crazy. I know we love that. But we love our penis more. -  I'm not handsome but jesus his teeth look like he was breastfed through a grease nipple - Even a shotgun wouldn’t shoot its load on THAT face - I’ve seen bigger breasts in the chicken meat aisle -  Looks like the kind of guy who would call his grandmother to change his flat tire -  Why does no one listen when I warn them "hold on tight, this will hit you like a tank" WHY DO YOU THINK I INSTALLED THE HAND RAILS YOU IDIOTS -  why do I even take the triple espresso shots overthinking keeps me awake enough - I'd rather shit in my hands and clap than spend ten seconds in these Council meetings -I don't see what the fuss is, there shouldn't be any fluid left on it -  It’s all fun and games until somebody loses a penis -  ok, plan is to suck a lemon first to mitigate the taste, then bypass my tongue with a boba straw -  note to self: tub of lard, rubber fist, strip of cloth. tub of lard, rubber fist, strip of cloth. tub of lard, rubber fist, strip of--Message #internal-thoughts -  how the fuck am I this drunk and STIll have a headache? besides Shinobi that is - that man’s penis is a deadly weapon -  It’s alive you can see it’s mouth open up right before it gets deep throated -  This is why I keep a dozen fresh eggs in my car at all times. -  You see anti-homeless spikes, I see free seating for hundreds -  Well, I suppose him calling me a "bootlicker" was TECHNICALLY not incorrect but--- -  in fairness to her, if I were covered in fingers, I would be doing that too -  I am not a squeamish man but "genitalia turns into a blood hyperbeam cannon" was not a power I was prepared to very LITERALLY face - The amount on the ceiling is mind-boggling -  her gag reflex is as absent as her father -  I'd tell @Roberto Da Costa  he's a disappointment, but I'm afraid he'd call me daddy - God damn, he still ate it?? Go buy new lettuce you weird fuck - Wait, are they gay racists? Gaycists? BROKEBACK BIGOTS?! - It burns, but that's how you know it's working. - How was HE the fastest sperm? Must have been like a goddamn Special Olympics swim

[snowdice]

Goblin Brain Study Session Fic 1 [Day 54]

Because I don’t want to just have walls of text for my Goblin Brain Study Session posts, I’m separating them by days. If you want to read the previous chapters, click the links below. Chapter 21 and what’s done of chapter 22 is under the cut.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 My Master Post

See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. Also, if you’re interesting, don’t forget that I am constantly updating the timeline as I write. :)

I have a zoom meeting in about an hour. Not sure if it will take long because it’s just supposed to be an organization meeting, but the time slot is for 2 hours. So... I’m not sure if there will be a random 2 hour break in this or not... But, anyway, time for Janus to murder his Virgil’s dad.

Chapter 21

Emile’s car, of course, did not have a built-in button that would let him into the bases outer gates like Remy’s would have. Instead, Remy had to get out of the car and put his face in front of the security camera. He waved and someone must have seen and recognized him because the gate swung open to let them through.

Remy climbed back into the car and Emile drove up towards what appeared to be an abandoned factory.

“Since you’re not an agent they’ll want us to go inside the shell building instead of down to the parking garage for security,” Remy told him.

 Emile had never actually been to the base. He usually met with Logan at another location or sometimes Emile’s office and he met any patients in his office as well. Thus, he had absolutely no idea what parking garage he was talking about or where on Earth it could be, but he could figure out where Remy must want him to go because there was only one building in sight.

He drove down the driveway towards what looked like the main entrance.

“Weird,” Remy said as Emile pulled up in front of it. “There’s another car here.” They exchanged a glance.

 Remy mumbled something that sounded like “damned kid,” under his breath. Then they were both scrambling to get out of the car the next moment. Remy went ahead of Emile because he knew more about this place and also Emile would not be able to stop him.

The door had been left slightly ajar and Emile could hear voices as they approached.

Emile heard Virgil’s voice (and thank god Remy was right about where he’d been going) say “you know my dad?”

An unfamiliar voice responded with a shocked. “Remy’s dead?” which was right when Remy made it to the door.

 Without missing a beat, Remy threw open the door and said, “Quit telling everyone I’m dead!” Now Emile loved a good animated movie reference usually, but today he couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

There were a few seconds of silence before the one figure he didn’t recognize finished the quote by saying, “Sometimes I can still hear his voice.”

“Dad?” Virgil asked sounding all types of vulnerable and confused.

“Kid,” Remy said, “you are the bane of my existence. I’m dead for 5 minutes and you skip town?”

Emile watched Virgil’s face as he quickly adjusted to the fact that his father was not in fact dead, but simply an emotionally constipated idiot with a flair for dramatics. He narrowed his eyes.

 “Yeah, and where have you been, old man?”

“Running after you once the wrist tracker said you’d booked it 50 miles away by the time I knew you were missing! Which then stopped tracking.”

“Yeah, well I threw it out a window because I thought you were dead and I’m not stupid.”

“Well your lack of stupidity has made my life a living hell for the past few hours.”

“Right back at you not-dead dad.”

Remy snorted a bit. “Come here pipsqueak. Your old man deserves a hug after you nearly gave him a heart attack.” Virgil still looked a bit sullen but went in for the hug anyway.

 Virgil caught sight of Emile over Remy’s shoulder and drew back from the hug. “Uncle Emile,” he said, sounding relieved. “I tried to call you.”

Emile turned to glare at Remy.

“Oof,” Remy said. “Yeah, that one may have been my bad too.”

“I,” Logan interjected. By the look on his face, Emile could tell that his willingness to let Remy and Virgil have a moment was wearing thin, “also tried to call him.”

Remy just shrugged. “Yeah, well, boss, someone drilled it into my head not to give out secret critical information on unsecured lines and I am definitely critical.”

 Logan gave him an unimpressed look and Remy shrugged and winked at him after a moment. He dug the flash drive he’d stolen out of his pocket and tossed it at Logan. “Oh, and also this.”

Logan caught it and raised an eyebrow at it. “What is this?”

“Enough information to want to kill me for it,” he paused. “Of course, that’s not a high bar considering she tried to kill me before I stole it.”

Logan put the flash drive in his chest pocket. “I’ll decide if I’m going to kill you after I look at what’s on this.”

 “Fair enough,” Remy agreed.

“So, you’re a secret agent?” Virgil asked.

“Yep,” Remy confirmed. Virgil looked over at Emile.

“Don’t look at me,” Emile said. “I’m just a run of the mill psychiatrist.”

“Who gives therapy to secret agents,” Remy pointed out.

“Even secret agents need therapy sometimes,” Emile said, “and I already knew about the organization.”

Virgil turned back to his dad. “I’m mad at you,” he said.

“Ah,” Remy said. “Yeah…”

“Teach me to shoot a gun, and I’ll forgive you.”

“NO,” both Emile and the man he didn’t know said at one.

“Trust me,” the other man continued. “He doesn’t need to learn how to use a gun. He does just fine with a knife.”

 Remy considered Virgil suspiciously for a few seconds. “What did you do, you little shit?”

“Remy,” the other man chastised.

“He’s heard a lot worse,” Remy waved him off. The other man frowned at him, but Remy just turned back to Virgil. “Now, what did you do?”

“I needed a ride,” said Virgil.

“What about a knife?”

“The knife… helped me get a ride.”

“Did you kidnap Patton at knife point?” Remy asked. Virgil just shrugged. “Kid!”

“And you allowed that to happen?” Logan asked, Emile presumed, Patton.

“He wasn’t exactly scary,” Patton said.

Virgil looked almost affronted. “I was terrifying!”

 “Sure, you were kiddo,” Patton said. Virgil pouted at him.

“From what I understand, he also incapacitated one of Nelson’s men with pepper spray,” Logan interjected. He eyed Virgil. “We should have a conversation at some point in the future.”

“Logan,” Patton chided. “He’s 15.”

“I’m aware of his age,” Logan said.

Virgil looked at him. “Would you teach me how to use a gun?”

“Hey, if anyone is going to teach my child how to use a gun, it’s me,” Remy insisted.

“No one is teaching him how to use a gun,” Emile said. “He doesn’t even have his driver’s license yet.”

 “If I agree to take drivers ed… then I can get a gun?” Virgil asked.

“Maybe,” Remy said.

“No!” Emile exclaimed.

“Okay, but Janus is not allowed to teach me to drive. He’s the one who told me the gas pedal was the break on that golf cart. I don’t want to crash another vehicle into a body of water.”

“Wow,” a new voice said from the door. Emile looked over to see a group of damp people walk into the building. Emile did not recognize four of them, but he did recognize the fifth. The speaker turned to Janus. “You must be cursed.”

A woman in the group turned to Logan. “We found your kids,” she said.

  Chapter 22

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Janus did not respond to Roman’s quip about the car. Instead, he shoved past Roman the second he heard the boy’s voice. Roman recognized the kid immediately from the pictures he’d been sent along with his mission directives.

“Virgil,” Janus said, crossing the room to get to his little brother without regard to anything else. “Thank god. Are you alright?” He grabbed his face and titled it as though to look for injuries. Nothing about what Roman had learned about Janus in the past few hours would have prepared him for the way he descended directly into mother-hen mode, cupping the boy’s face with delicate fingers.

He was even less prepared for when Virgil shoved his hands away with an eye roll and a “I’m fine, Janus,” and Janus immediately started to cry.

Janus pulled Virgil into a hug, and Roman winced in sympathy for Janus’s injured ribs when the kid hugged him back tightly. They should really get that checked out as soon as the two of them had their moment. “I’ve been worried sick about you,” he said, voice all types of wrecked. The past few hours of worry that Janus had kept careful hold of lashed out suddenly, and it was even more than Roman had anticipated. “I showed up to the house, and you were gone, and the window was broken.” Virgil was getting a bit wobbly lipped himself, and Roman couldn’t exactly blame him with how gutted Janus sounded. “Where did you go? How did you get here? How did you know to come here? Did Logan send someone else after you?”

“Dad let the name slip,” Virgil explained, “and Mom sent someone to pick me up, but I’d already accidently heard that she’d killed him with the radio Dad keeps in his room. So, I really didn’t want to go with the man, and he was mean especially when I said no.” His voice cracked a bit as he spoke and he too started crying. “I didn’t know where to go or what to do. At first, I just wanted to get out of the city so Mom couldn’t find me. Once I was out, I decided to try to get here because dad said he worked with the owner, and no one was answering their phones.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Janus said. “That was my fault. I broke my phone. I should have thought about you wanting to call me.” He pulled back to kiss Virgil ever so gently on the forehead.

“Hey, what gives,” another man said, and Roman blinked because that was Remy Gates and Remy was definitely supposed to be dead. “I was dead, and I didn’t even get that much of a heartfelt reunion.” Janus seemed to freeze for a moment and then turned to him.

[xx-autmnlvr-xx]

Is this embarrassing? Chapter 1

PAIRING: KEVEDD (Kevin x Edd) [Ed, Edd n Eddy]

Rating: T (for cursing and violence)

This is really exciting because I have been working on this story for almost a week now and I didn’t want to post the first chapter until I finished the whole thing. I’m so happy to finish such a long fanfiction! I hope you all enjoy!!! If you like it please feel free to reblog so others can read it!

    It was a cool autumn day and peach Creek high was out at the football field for a pep rally. The Ed's, who are now in 10th grade, were on the top of the bleachers. Edd shifted in his seat in discomfort. Eddy was sitting, leaning against the back railings and Ed was laying down beside Eddy.

    "so, I said to Rolf 'I know where you should stuff your salami' I mean, it wouldn't have hurt for some of it to be sold! I was gonna give him 25 percent of the profit!" Eddy yammered in a huff. Edd shook his head with a slight smile before looking out at the football field. His eyes raked over each player until he saw him.

   With the number twelve spread on his uniform, Edd knew that underneath was a tall and slightly muscular Kevin. Kevin has grown a bit since they were 12. He began talking more to them in a friendly way and has stopped the bullying. He still calls the Ed's dorks, but now it's in a kinder way. Double D's smile widened as he watched.

   "Hey! Earth to sock head! Are you listening?" Eddy yelled, waving his hand in front of Edd's face.

    Double D snapped out of it and looked at Eddy, "o-oh I'm sorry, Eddy. I must have dozed off."

    "Are you fawning over shovel chin again?"

    "Wh... what? No! I was... just thinking of quantum physics! Very intriguing!" Edd claimed, a blush spreading on his cheeks.

   Eddy rolled his eyes, "why don't you just talk to him, Edd?"

   "Oh no no no! I would never!" Double D's cheeks grew redder.

   Then he sighed, looking out at the field, "Kevin would never go out with me. I mean he's obviously straight."

"So?" Eddy asked, "why don't you convert him? Isn't that what people like you do? Make straight people gay?"

Edd glared at Eddy, "sometimes I really wonder why I'm friends with you."

"Oh, I know! It's because we all have the same name and have been hanging out since we were kids!" Ed said loudly, smiling wide.

Double D smiled and ruffled Ed's hair, "yes. That is a few of the reasons, Ed."

 Suddenly the conversation was cut short with a loud voice, "Okay, peach Creek high! Pep rally is over so get your asses home!" Sarah screamed in a megaphone at the students.

"But be sure to come by tomorrow at 6 for the football game!" Nazz cut in with her own megaphone, "Let's come show support to our team!"

Eddy stood up, "come on, guys! Let's get going." The three made their way down the bleachers and began trekking back to the cul-de-sac. Edd glanced behind him and saw Kevin looking at him. As their eyes met double D made a flustered noise and looked in front of him. When the Ed's made it to the cul-de-sac, Eddy yawned.

"Well, boys, I would say let's hang but that stupid football rally wore me out."

"Aww but Eddy! I wanted to show you my new 'poinder monster blood' movie!" Ed pouted.

"We can watch it tomorrow, Ed. I promise." Eddy patted his shoulder.

"Yeah I agree. Today was most strenuous! I'll see you both tomorrow!" Edd smiled and waved as he went up to his house. Double D closed the door behind him and sighed, looking at his home. It was just as he left it with no sign or hair that his parents came home that day.

"It must have been another triple shift." He muttered to himself.

 He walked to the kitchen and drunk some water. Double D put his bag on the table and looked through his books. He whispered a mental list of all that he must get done that weekend that includes two essays, a page of math equations, and a thesis on ancient Aztec inventions. he began to head upstairs when someone knocked on his door. He checked the time, it was 5 pm.

"Weird. Who could that be?" Edd made his way to the door and opened it. He nearly passed out.

"M-m... Marie! What are you doing back in peach Creek?" He asked, his knees shaking slightly. Marie kanker and her sisters were taken away back in 8th grade when May came to school with multiple bruises. The human resources department found out the kanker sisters were being beat by their fathers and found multiple signs of malnutrition. Marie still had her blue hair, cut so one of her eyes were covered up she wore a black crop top with some Jean shorts. She had on some fingerless gloves. Marie rubbed the back of her neck.

"Our mother got custody of us and talked to us about where we wanted to finish school. We all chose peach Creek. We're living close to the shops."

Edd nodded, "Oh. I see." He was a little confused. Why is she acting so different?

"Do you... Want to come in?" He asked, moving aside for her.

She nodded, "yeah, thanks." She sat down on the couch and looked down at the rug.

"Would you like something to drink?"

She looked up, "do you have any sweet tea?"

"Yes, I certainly do! One moment."

 Edd came back and handed Marie the cup and sat down in a lounge chair.

"Thank you, Edd."

"It's no problem. You seem different than last time I saw you. What has happened?"

She took a sip, "well after the people took us away, they tried to put us in a foster home. Lee made a fuss and we shanked some of the kids there. They called us a danger to society and threw us in a mental hospital. While we were there, they talked to us about internalized obsessive disorder and abuse. They gave us medicine and had us talk to so many therapists. I didn't even know what we did as children was wrong. I guess that's what happens. We all began to listen, and I found out something about me. I realized that my love for you was false. I didn't love you I loved your sensitivity. I wanted to be as hopeful as you. I should have realized that I wasn't straight when I started sneaking to look at my dad's magazines."

"You mean you're...?"

"Yeah, I'm a lesbian. I didn't realize because I honestly thought that I NEEDED a man."

She took another sip and put down the drink, "but that's not why I'm here." Marie looked at him. He looked back at her.

"Double D, I want to apologize. How I acted two years ago was very ridiculous and I understand that you must have been very scared. No one should be forced into any kind of romantic interaction. I understand that now. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I just want you to know that I am working to improve myself."

"Oh... oh wow, Marie. That is very admirable of you! I must admit I never expected this. I accept your apology." Edd smiled.

She smiled back, "I hope we can be friends."

"Of course!" Edd nodded. Suddenly, Marie's pocket buzzed. She took out her phone and looked at it.

"Oh shit. I have to get home. I'll talk to you later?"

 After Marie and Edd said their goodbyes, she left his home and ran down the street. Double D watched for a moment and closed his door.

"Isn't that interesting. I never would have thought that someone like the kankers would work to better themselves. I'm happy for them." Edd said to himself as he walked up the stairs and into his room.

He took off his clothes and slipped on his pajamas. He even completed most of his homework. Edd laid on his bed and looked at the ceiling. He thought about how he should come clean to Kevin but at the mere thought of confessing made him shiver.

"Eddward this is ridiculous..." He told himself aloud, "what do you have to lose?"

He thought about it and bit his lip, "he could laugh at me... Distance himself... What if he starts beating me up?" Edd felt tears well up and he made a noise of desperation. He suddenly got an idea and went over to his desk.

"Of course! I'll just write a love letter and just never give it! I'll have the emotions released and I won't get rejected!" Edd sat at his chair, grabbed a pen and blue paper and started writing.

'my dearest friend, Kevin,

It may come as a shock, but I can contain this no longer--' double D began. He smiled and kept writing the letter, letting out all his hidden desire. After he completed the whole thing he felt better. He folded it up and put it in a tin can. He debated throwing it away, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, so he decided to put it in his pants. He slept well that night.

Edd awoke at 10 am that Saturday to the sound of his alarm blaring. He sat up with a stretch and turned it off. He groggily went to his closet and grabbed his toiletries before going to the bathroom. After his shower he was brushing his teeth while trying to avoid looking in the mirror.

'why hasn't it gone away? I've tried everything but the scar is still there.' Edd thought. Finally, after he rinsed his mouth, he looked up in the mirror. There, in the middle of his head, with a haphazard pattern was a large scar. No hair grew around it so there was just a bald spot. The scar is a constant reminder of the worst point in his life. He sighed, rubbing a pea sized amount of cocoa butter lotion on the scar before putting on his hat.

Eddward left his house after doing his chores and locked the door.

"Hey, double D! Finally, you came out!" Eddy yelled from across the cul-de-sac. Eddy and Ed began bursting into a fit of laughter. Edd rolled his eyes and chuckled, walking up to them.

"You know, I may stop hanging out with you if you keep up with the gay jokes, Eddy." Edd teased.

"Aw puh-leese sockhead you know I'm just teasing." Eddy smiled, lightly nudging Edd.

Ed lifted the other two and hugged them tightly, "guys are we gonna watch the movie now?"

 Ed was sitting cross-legged in front of his couch, his eyes glued to the TV. Eddy was spread out on one side of the couch, typing on his phone. Edd was on the other side of the couch with his ankles crossed, watching the movie. After Ed's parents bought a new couch, they threw it down the basement for Ed since double D and Eddy are always over.

Edd tilted his head, "so the monster is literally a sentient glob of blood? Who comes up with these things?"

Ed turned toward double D and smiled happily, "I know! Isn't it awesome?? It could roll and wobble and gobble everyone! And it would grow each time!!! What if it happens?"

Edd smiled and patted his shoulder, "it's highly impossible, Ed. They said in the movie that they made it using 'a vial of hubirous' and there is no such thing as a hubirous. You have nothing to be worried about."

Ed nodded, "yes! You're right, double D! If it was real Godzilla would probably eat it anyways!"

Edd shook his head and smiled, "you're so imaginative."

Eddy stretched, "if I had that vial, I wouldn't waste it on some stupid experiment. Science is lame. Oh! Hey, guys, that new game came out last night! It ended up being free! Do you wanna play it sometime this week?"

"Ooh ooh yeah! That sounds cool!" Ed said, jumping up and down in his seat. A loud noise came from the television and Ed went back to watching it

Edd rubbed the back of his neck, "I don't know, Eddy. We have a big test coming up this week. Maybe we can do it next weekend."

Eddy groaned, "sockhead, you're too uptight. One test won't kill us."

Double D raised an eyebrow, "Eddy, you didn't pass the practice ACT two weeks ago. You NEED to take school more seriously."

"School is for chumps! I'm gonna make a NAME for myself! I don't need no damn geometry!"

"School is the beginnings of all business and careers. You won't last."

"WATCH ME, SOCKHEAD!" Eddy huffed, crossing his arms. Edd rolled his eyes and continued watching the movie.

 After a while Edd remembered something.

"Remember the kanker sisters?" At the mere mention of them, Ed and Eddy looked at Edd with wide eyes.

"W-what... What about them?" Eddy asked nervously.

"They came back to peach Creek!" Ed was about to scream but double D covered his mouth, "BUT they aren't like they were before! They changed!"

"How do you know?" Ed asked behind being muffled. Edd cringed and took off his hand, wiping it off on his shorts.

"Marie came over to my house last night and apologized for what happened when we were in jr. High."

"Woah you serious?" Eddy asked, shocked.

"Yeah! They got help and now they aren't obsessive or aggressive like they were."

"Cool!" Eddy and Ed said in unison. The movie ended then, and double D looked at the time. 5 pm.

"I should take my leave now."

Ed pouted, "aww but why?"

Eddy smirked, "isn't it obvious? He wants to go see Kevin throw a ball around."

Edd's entire face went red, "n...no I'm not! I just have homework!"

Eddy raised an eyebrow and shrugged, "whatever. It's your life. But you know you don't have to keep denying it, it's pretty obvious. Even lumpy can tell when you're drooling."

"Yeah! It's as clear as the little ant trying to sneak off with my cheese!" Ed chimed.

Edd looked down at his hands and fumbled with them, "you guys think it's that noticeable? Oh, my what if Kevin knows? Is he going to start avoiding me?"

"Dude, it's not that deep. My father always says, 'sell it quick before they notice' which basically means 'just go for it or you'll miss it.'" Eddy said. Double D nodded and said goodbye before climbing out Ed's window.

 The autumn wind whistled past Edd's ears. The chilly air causing fallen leaves to land near his feet. Double D looked at the ground as he walked, thinking about what Eddy said.

'maybe he's right. I mean we have lived by Kevin for years. Maybe he would accept me?' Eddward smiled a little and imagined what it would be like. Kevin pulling him close and kissing him behind a tree, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

Edd wasn't looking where he was going and bumped into someone's back. He fell backwards onto his butt.

"Ngh! Oh, how humiliating." Edd groaned in pain, rubbing his lower back.

"YO, NERD!" A voice yelled. Edd looked up at two stocky-built guys in football uniforms.

Double D's face went pale, "I'm sorry! I... I didn't mean to--" The one on the right got close to Edd's face. His name was Kyle, he had bushy eyebrows and an Auburn colored buzz cut.

"You didn't mean to WHAT, loser?"

"I was- I was deep in thought and I didn't know you was there. I'm sorry."

The one on the left smirked and went behind Edd. He was named Larry and he had blonde wavy hair with a goatee. He pulled double D to his feet and locked his arm around Edd's neck to prevent him from leaving.

"What were you thinking about? Were you thinking about math? Hey, Kyle, do you think if we bust his head open, we will get a cheat sheet for school?" At the mention of a busted head Edd started squirming, gripping Larry's arm that was nearly choking him.

"Plea... please just let me go! I'm sorry!"

"Oh, you'll be sorry alright." Kyle smiled, he punched Edd in the nose. Edd screamed in pain while the two laughed. They spent the next five minutes punching and kicking him. Edd felt himself starting to pass out from the pain. The last thing he remembered was being shoved in a trashcan and them digging in his pockets.

"Shit! Doesn't the nerd have any money? I thought his parents made a lot of money!" Kyle grumbled. Double D only saw black as he passed out completely.

[lothioriien]

richie tozier and his zoomer teen: headcanons

A/N: I tried keeping this as gender neutral as possible, but idk it’s a lil implied that the kid’s a girl. i’m trying to learn how to write gender neutral stuff :”)

By teenager, I mean around 16-17! High school age!!

Enjoy!

Sometime in the early 2000s, famous comedian Richard Tozier went to a party and came home with a woman.

oh yeah they deffo got it on that night

But that was a one night stand kind of thing, and Richie didn’t have any contact with her until about a year later.

He got up the couch one early evening to the ringing of his doorbell, and found a basket and a bag filled with baby food, diapers, and clothes perched on his doorstep

And in the basket? A small child, an apology note from the mother, and a birth certificate with his name listed as the father.

Oh boy did his life completely change after that.

It was him and the child, against the world.

but let’s skip the details on him struggling to take care of an infant first and move on a bit to when the kid’s older.

You, of course, are the baby that was left on his doorstep, and Richie tried to be the best father he could be despite his touring career as a comedian.

He’d bring you to the shows, even if you didn’t understand a thing that went on, though eventually when you’d help him write some material when you were older.

Constantly touring with him as a kid meant you were homeschooled. But that didn’t stop you from having a social life. You’d be friends with a lot of his fellow comedians, and John Mulaney was your ultimate favorite friend of his.

you just loved the very tall and gangly twelve year old looking man named uncle john.

Your academic life though was not too bad. You’re pretty intelligent, but when it came to maths, oh boy.

As a kid, you’d ask Richie constantly about math. He’d hate the school curriculum you had because math was different back when he was younger. He’d always help you, but it was mostly the internet just teaching you both.

You’d introduce him to vines (through iconic vine compilation videos), but mostly because he was so confused with this new language you were speaking.

Eventually he’d say some vines back to you and it’d come off so weird cause he’s a 40 year old white dad. You love him, nonetheless, and appreciate the effort

A lot of your instagram stories or snapchat stories are you filming him as you sing “You are my dad! You’re my dad! Boogie woogie woogie!”

He found it cute at first, where he would smile at you hiding behind your phone and hug you after cause dang he loves his kid so much and would die for you

then later, he’s evidently so annoyed because you do it constantly. As in he takes off his glasses, puts his head in his hands and just sighs so loudly.

When tiktok became the new vine, you were on the app every single day, making it a goal of yours to become tiktok famous.

You’d force your dad to do tiktoks with you

“I love my daddy. he is my superhero”

“Famous relative check!”

BUT THE PERFECT AUDIO

“Don’t look at me like that.” “YOU’RE MY DAD. BOOGIEWOOGIEWOOGIE!”

Gaining some clout because he is a pretty famous comedian 👀

Saying “ok boomer” to him when he’d annoy you

But then he’d clap back by being like “What the fuck Y/N. I was born in 1976, i’m not that old.”

“Yeah but sometimes you think like a boomer.”

“Ok, zoomer.”

“Dad. No. Get out.”

He’s really chill with you swearing. You definitely got that habit from him.

“What the actual fuck, Richard.”

“At least have the fucking decency to call me dad, Y/N.”

He got you into video games at a young age. Every time there was a new console or a new interesting game out, you’d both be up early to go out and get the said console/game.

And in each game you’d play, there would be hilarious commentary.

it’s basically that video with bill hader playing god of war with conan but imagine that and a zoomer’s feral energy combined.

He also got you into becoming a cinephile. Though unlike him, you read the books before watching the movie.

Marathoning a bunch of tv series together and you can never watch any new episode without him. Friday nights were reserved especially for it.

Richie can’t fucking cook for the life of him. Growing up, it was always take out, pizza, instant noodles, or mac and cheese.

He tried learning how to cook, he really did. But it was just so bad that eventually you’d learn how to do it. Then you’d try to teach him how too.

But did he get better as a cook?? Not really.

He once accidentaly set almost the whole kitchen on fire when he tried making pasta when you were 15.

“DAD, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PUT WATER IN THE POT FOR PASTA.”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT? I JUST WANTED TO DO SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR YOU!”

“I APPRECIATE THE GESTURE BUT PLEASE DON’T EVER TRY TO COOK AGAIN.”

The following morning, he got up and learned how to make pancakes with sausages, bacon, and eggs.

It was damn good, and by far the best thing he ever made.

So his pancakes became a regular thing.

On casual dinner nights at home, he’d let you have a drink with him and be drinking buddies. He taught you how to drink and be safe with drinks (cause we stan a protective father amirite)

Speaking of protective father, he’d be so picky and open about the people you’d date

“Really Y/N? That person? They’re fucking trash and you know it. You deserve better, sweetie.”

“But dad. They’re hot.”

“That’s still a no from me, kiddo.”

Having the most random, yet somehow meaningful conversations with Richie, yet roasting him at the same time.

“Y/N, do you think I would be classified as a papi by people.”

“No. You still wear hawaiian shirts over a t-shirt. You’re too tacky for that. You’re a papa, not a papi.”

But somehow, you also adopt his fashion style?

Cause hawaiian shirts are pretty cool? Very John Deacon ala 80s aesthetic?

And then he roasts you back from the time you called him tacky.

“Respect the drip, Richard.”

Even though you always poke fun at each other, you guys are actually so open with each other and just talk about anything and everything.

Oh no when you first got your period, he was panicking and nearly bought the entire aisle of pads and tampons because he was so clueless

Meeting the Losers Club was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. You didn’t know what to expect of them or what they’d expect from you.

You clung to your dad the whole time, watching him reunite with his childhood friends. Each one of them had a look of surprise and confusion the moment they laid their eyes on you.

They found you to be like a mini-me of Richie, as both of you were clad in printed/hawaiian shirts and glasses.

“Jeez, Richie. Why’d you decide to bring a fucking clone of yourself?” asked Eddie.

“That’s my kid, you dumbass! Eddie, this is Y/N.”

“No shit, you have a kid! You got married, dipshit?”

“No, uh, it’s just them and me.”

You decided to butt in jokingly, “Joe was in the picture for a while too,”

“Joe? Who the fuck is Joe?” The minute Eddie asked this, Richie knew what was coming next.

“Joe mama.” Thus receving a high five from your father and a groan from Eddie.

at first, everyone else would not believe Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier had his very own kid, but the minute you started to get comfortable and joke around, it really clicked for them.

“There’s no doubt they’re Richie’s kid. Look at them! They’re basically a carbon copy of him!” Eddie would have exclaimed.

You‘re very liberal and open-minded, supporting the LGBT+ community and such, but you didn’t really know Richie’s stance on it.

Perhaps it was because he’d been surpressing his feelings for a specific boy from his childhood for almost his entire life, and he didn’t really talk about that topic so much.

But when you saw the chemistry between your dad and Uncle Eds, you sensed a little something there on both ends.

always saying a specific vine under your breath when you see them “two bros, chilling in a hot tub, five feet apart cause they’re not gay” (thank you to for this hc)

OKAY UNCLE EDS LIVES IN THIS AND HE’S DEFFO A BIG PART OF YOUR LIFE AFTER ONE SPECIAL TRIP TO DERRY, MAINE.

You’d say the vine so much, Richie eventually heard it and pulled you aside.

“Y/N, I- how did you know?”

“Know what dad?”

It took a little while for him to come up with the proper words to say. How was he gonna break this to you?

“Y/N..honey, I’ve had feelings for your Uncle Eds ever since we were kids. I-i don’t know, it really scared me as a kid to feel that way so I never talked about it. I guess what I’m trying to say is, kiddo, I’m gay.”

“Huh? I thought you were American?”

the man was basically on the verge of tears. He was so tense, he almost forgot to breathe. But the moment you hugged him and told him that it’s okay, that you love him so much, and that you’re so proud of him, he wrapped you in the biggest bear hug and cried. You cried too.

A/N: Imma end it here for now :)

So sorry it took forever!! I hope you enjoyed!!

Let me know if you want a part 2! 🤪

[tired-college-student-writing]

Here we go Loopty Loo

Summary: Graduation was supposed to signal the final time they all spent time together at UA, to show they have all grown into the Heros they dreamed of being.

It was supposed to be, but when has anything ever been easy for class 1-A?

Pt1 (HERE)

Pt2

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Loop #82

___________________________________________

Aizawa blinked sluggishly as he pulled his head from his podium and gazed across the classroom with critical eyes. The entire class appeared to slowly be waking up, some at their desks, some from the positions on the floor that they had collapsed into when their sudden lapse of consciousness hit.

Now, Normally, Aizawa would be on high alert in a situation like this, especially on the first day with his new first years, but this was different.

“I get to start with you guys this time,” Shinso piped up, staggering to his feet from where he had been laying in front of Momo’s desk, “Look like all 20 of us are here so no Gen Ed to worry about, or trying to hide anything from someone.”

“That’s a relief,” Mina sighed leaned back, in her seat, “Last time it was such a pain trying to act surprised at the LOV crashing things for Mei’s sake.”

“Momo,” Aizawa cut in, “If you will.”

The girl simply nodded and turned her back to the class as Sato and Shoji moved to stand with their backs to her, blocking her from view entirely as she pulled her shirt up and created the usual items, a large collapsible whiteboard and an array of colorful markers.

Deku silently handed her his lunch in exchange for the items as he and Iida quickly set up the offered materials.

“We all know the rules,” Iida started, writing a large 82 at the top of the board and quickly listing off the rules below, “but I’ll restate them anyways if you would like to complain about this take it up with Sero who forgot to inform us that he was a descendent of All for One in Loop #24 and ended up leaving the LOV quirkless after they tried to kidnap Denki.”

Aizawa simply zoned out at this point, knowing he’d be called in to inform the room of the changes he could recall at the end. It was ritual at this point, though they still could not figure out why they were looping.

When they had first started no one had said anything. Confused past their limits on why they felt like they were doing everything over again, trying hard not to change anything. It wasn’t until the third loop did they realize that while the rest of the world seemed to run as it always did, the nineteen teens and teacher were reliving the years the hero’s spent at high school over and over again.

Mineta seemed to be the only student in 1-A not to remember their previous loops, which made it easier kicking that annoying little grape to the curb the second he could justify it. Luckily during the third loop, Midoriya outshone his original first assessment making it easy for Aizawa to expel the lowest ranking member of their class. When Shinsou had made it into their class before the Sports festival that loop the boy had looked nearly sick.

On the fourth loop, they realized why when he was placed directly into their class at the beginning of the year and he nearly had a panic attack. Not that they could blame him, they had all gone through a similar fate earlier in the loops. Since then they rarely saw Mineta, but having the exact same class every time was never a guarantee.

In fact, there seemed to be very little rules to this whole looping business they have found themselves in.

The class was often the 20 that they had currently, but not always, sometimes having one or more of them fighting out from the Gen Ed classes, or even having another student placed with them.

They were often awoken on the first day before the first Quirk Assessment, but sometimes they wake up earlier, though rarely do they wake up after the assessment. While they had awoken as early as Aizawa’s third year in UA, leaving all of the students forced to grow up from age two with teenage memories, the latest they had ever woken up was after Deku and Bakugo’s first fight.

They almost always were planning their respective roles as students and teachers in UA training to be heroes, quirks, and appearances intact, but every once in a while…

“The Bakusquad have all switched quirks,” Mina called once the rules were listed, “I have Electrification, Denki got Hardening, Katsuki got Acid, Hanta got Explosion and Eijiro got Tape.”

Tenya nodded, “I believe that the Dekusquad is the same, with the exceptions of Tsu and Izuku, seeing as I have zero gravity.  Shoto and Ochaco?”

“Endeavor was very mad when my exhaust pipes popped out,” The still split haired boy said with a slight grin, “He was sure I’d be his perfect child with my appearance.”

“How pissed is he going to be when I use Half-Cold Half-Hot during the SPorts festival?” Ochaco asked, letting ice and fire form on her hands, curiously on the opposite sides to Shoto.

“Enough that we’ll want all the pictures,” Izuku chimed in, “I still have One for All, so no need to worry about that. Anyone else switch?”

Turns out that yes, this was a quirk shuffling loop. Shinsou, Kyoka, Ojiro, Momo, Toru, and Sato all kept their quirks the same, but while Koda and Shoji had kept their appearances, the tall boy now possessed Anivoice while the shy boy could transform all his limbs and even spout additional limbs if he wished.

The other switch that made the entire class start laughing however was when Dark Shadow made an appearance, only for the source not to be the blushing emo bird-like they all expected.

No, the shadow appeared from Yuga, the boy still twinkling with mirth as Fumikage mumbled the confirmation that he possessed Navel Laser.

Slowly the entire classroom came back to each other, after all this wasn’t the oddest thing they’ve had to deal with during the loops. No other relevant information surfaced, as the students voiced other minor changes they could remember.

Finally, they turned to Aizawa with a single question on their mind. He decided to draw it out some.

“Seems like I’m dating Tensei this time,” He hummed, “I also have a ring stashed away, but worried it would be weird to propose with Tenya in my class.”

Iida snorted, “Interesting, We’ll talk about how to ask him later. Now answer the question, sensei.”

“What question?”

“Oh come on Sensei,” Denki groaned, “Do you still have erasure?”

“Ah,” He hummed, scratching his cheek in thought, “Nope,”

Before his students could start pestering further, the door swung open and All Might popped in, “I AM HERE!”

“Yagi!” The teens cheered as the hero powered down, his thousand-watt smile not dimming in the slightest.

The skeleton of a man had apparently been looping with them from the start, even though it took them much longer to notice then it probably should have, even if the kind man had forgiven them entirely too easy for leaving him on his own until they all noticed in the twelfth loop. Now he was practically Aizawa’s co-homeroom teacher, encouraging all of the students to call him Toshinori, though they usually stuck to his family name as they did with Aizawa.

Izuku squinted at him, always the first to notice the difference with the older man, “You’re not quirkless.”

Heads snapped up as the blond man let out a full belly laugh, “Nope, it looks like the previous users shuffled quirks around a tiny bit, my boy.”

“Neat,” Aizawa said from behind the current #1. The man yelped, coughing blood slightly making the excited whispers from the students cease as they slowly turned back to where Aizawa still leaned against the podium on the other side of the room.

“Oh shit,” Shinsou mumbled, only to jump as another copy appears behind him, smacking the back of his head lightly.

“Language.”

“Copy,” Iida hummed, jotting it down, “Though it seems to work different then Ectoplasm’s clones. Anything else we should know?”  

One copy of the homeroom teacher shrugged, “Hizashi named me Agent Emulation this time.”

The one still leaning on the podium gave a slight smile, “I like Eraserhead better, but oh well.”

“Oh you’ve almost finished,” Toshinori said reading over the list, “This should be an interesting loop.”

“Just need your contribution, Toshi,” The clone next to All Might hummed, “So which of the six or seven quirks do you have on top of One for All?”

Instead of answering, the blond wrapped an arm around the clone and started floating towards the ceiling, earning a startled yelp as the Aizawa wrapped around him in shock.

Midoriya smiled sadly at the display, “Float, Nana’s quirk.”

After so many loops, there wasn’t much the group didn’t know about each other, so no one commented on the late-mentor, as Yagi slowly sank back to the floor with a chuckle as the clone dissipated in his grip with Aizawa pouting at the front of the room.

“Anything else to add?” he grumbled with no real heat.

“Oh!” Yagi said as if remembering, “I’m married in this go around!”

“Ooooh,” Toru cooed, “Who is it? Is it David or Tsukauchi this time?”

Yagi laughed a little uncomfortably, “Actually it’s Atsuhiro Sako, better known as Mr. Compass. It seems neither one of us is aware of the others… activities.”

“WHAT!?”

___________________________________________

So this is just a fun little story I’m gonna have fun with. Each chapter will be a loop or multiple loops exploring similar topics and just being all around fun and slightly cracky. 

Feel free to suggest an idea if you have one!