#i thought writing it from the top down was stupid. still think it actually. its faster to go bottom up

[dreamermonica]

—gender neutral reader x bakugou, just a drabble escalating into a oneshot cause my brain's rotting with mha (mostly katsuki) pls save me from the dump called writing block errr also mild language cuz this is boom boy

“what the hell?”

a very bad word crossed your mind the moment BAKUGOU had entered your dorm room—following shortly is a silence so dense that you swore you heard your stomach drop.

the object that had piqued the attention of your visitor were perched right upon your desk. the very same object that could very well also be the reason you meet your demise.

your dynamight plushies and figurines,

yes. plural.

—were bared in display, to the very man you harbored a big fat crush on.

the silence enveloped your room like a tight veil. a shudder makes its way down your spine when you finally felt a piercing gaze burning onto the back of your head. you are so fucked.

“i—uhm, i can explain!” you break the silence, holding your hands up whilst turning around to meet his crimson eyes—scanning you over whilst you attempt to figure out an excuse.

let's do a quick throwback:

see, you were rather confident in your abilities and quirk—one of the best, you smugly think—but academics were still a great obstacle to overcome, even for an upcoming pro hero. it's a formidable force that's against your dream becoming reality! not really, but you get the point.

damned ectoplasm shouldn't be teaching math! your brain cells were always fizzled out like kaminari's after he used up all his electricity by the time whenever ectoplasm had left the room after a discussion.

a dark cloud looms over your head more often after a particular topic you're struggling to comprehend, the fact that you were called out earlier by ectoplasm and miserably failed to answer didn't hell—and you're sure your god-sent classmates have noticed it.

a few smarties had reached out already—like yaoyorozu and iida, offering their notes with a smile and promising a few tutor lessons if you were to accept. keyword: if.

even though you were tearing up at their kindness and thoughtfulness, you gently declined them before slapping a fist to your chest—

“i shall overcome this by myself! my failure to adapt is a known weakness of mine, and i shall defeat this boss known as calculus with my own strength, no matter what it takes!”

a distant 'how manly!' sounded throughout the room.

it's not manly, you mentally cry out to kirishima. you were just embarrassed to actually get help because you were one of the top students of the class. you need to uphold your image as a capable student, whatever it takes! not so manly now, are we?!

the top one and top two worriedly glance you over, reluctant at your reasoning, but they hadn't pushed it further thankfully, and wished you good luck.

you definitely needed it, you sulk.

your stupid declaration must've spread throughout the entire class, cause now a scowling bakugou katsuki is stomping his way over to you once classes had finished, stopping a few feet away from you whilst you were packing up your stuff.

“oi. i heard your dumb ass earlier—why are you refusing to ask for help?! you plan on getting behind all of us just because of that damn picture perfect image of yours?!” he yells, and you're now sweating, twiddling with your fingers.

you're not surprised that he approached you—he had declared you as one of his rivals (he called you a stepping stone to his victory but same thing!) ages ago and knowing his competitive nature, you surmised he was probably disappointed that you were stumped in such a pathetic way.

“w-what pride do you mean, bakugo? haha...”

“shut the fuck up. you know what i'm talking about,” a finger presses onto your chest as if to emphasize his point, and you just now realize the distance between you.

caramel wafts its way to your nose. heat crawls up your neck as you avert your gaze away from his chiseled face.

he hisses at your dazed look, “i'm beating calculus into your goddamn brain later tonight whether you like it or not, you got that extra?!”

you break out of your stupor when he leans away from you to gauge your reaction. of course he'd say something like that, even if he was just trying to help.

you shrink under his gaze, embarrassed and defeated at his intensity. if even the big bad bakugo thinks you need help, then maybe you really do.

“...okay.” you resign after a few seconds of contemplation, “thank you, bakugo.”

clicking his tongue, he gives you one last look before turning on his heels, walking towards the door.

you look around and realize that you were the only ones left in the classroom. did he offer his help in private so you would keep the image you're upholding? eh, whatever, he was probably the embarrassed one because he never offers help willingly to anyone.

you blink.

wait—he never helps unless someone would beg on their knees for him, so why—

“...you were always the one preaching about lowering my pride or whatever,”

your eyes dart towards the sound of his voice where bakugo paused his steps at the exit, glaring at you over his shoulder.

he huffs as he adds on, “cut that shit out, hypocrite.”

you blink owlishly and he's gone as he turned the corner, his loud footsteps echoing through the hall.

shaking your head, you pack your stuff up and rush out the door shortly after, eager to return to the comfort provided by your bed.

his words ring in your ears as you walked back to the dorms.

—now, baam, we're back to the present.

you're so fucked, if it wasn't mentioned earlier.

bakugou katsuki is now staring at you, silently demanding an explanation on why you have a row of mini dynamights, ranging from the winter version of his costume, to one of him wearing his signature black tank top—he hasn't even debuted yet as a pro-hero, so the amount you have is probably concerning. maybe even borderline creepy.

fuck being creepy—this probably looks horrifying!

“it's—uh...”

you hadn't had the chance to hide them before he so rudely, barged into your room carrying the materials needed for your study session.

“well, you're my idol, because you're so strong and—” inflate his ego! it's not like it wasn't the truth either with how much you compliment him during training, so maybe he'll be distracted enough and let it slide—

“did ponytail make these for you?” he asked quietly, ignoring your praises and walking past your panicked state as he got closer to inspect the tiny versions of him. he slowly took one from the bunch—a plushie of him wearing the suit he specifically used for a mission in otheon. “how the hell are the outfits so accurate?”

“...”

“answer my questions and i'll let this weird obsession of yours a secret, fuckin' creep.” he seems to like the way you took in his words, horrified, a smirk dancing on his lips as he turns away.

this sadist, you swear to all might...

“okay, okay! so uh...” you gulp as he continues inspecting the army of tiny bakugous, “yes, i had yaoyorozu make them. as for the outfits—i borrowed your blueprints, remember? it was to find some inspiration in enhancing my own costume, but i guess it also had some other uses...?”

he grunts in response to your explanation as his eyes move away from the desk and land onto your bed, where a few more plushies of him resided.

your face is definitely burning up by now.

“wasn't aware you were a fan,” you could hear the grin as he spoke, and you're one hundred percent sure he's never going to live this down, “well, i guess it's expected. i am amazing after all.”

“...yeah.” you agree, albeit cautious, trying to sound uneager to avoid inflating his ego anymore than you already have.

he moves to lean over your bed and grabs a plushie of him wearing his school uniform, squeezing it lightly, “but if you want me to be honest—this shit's kinda creepy.”

would he stop you if you just took a swan dive out of your window? should you get him to roast you alive right now? you wish all might would just united-states-smash you at this moment.

your hands shoot up to your face as you crouched down, too humiliated to even look at him even if he wasn't facing you.

“kill me now...”

“i've got plenty of chances to do that in the future, don't worry,” he's oddly calm for someone who's standing in a room practically devoted to him, “this is pretty adorable of you i must admit,”

you freeze. tickle my pickle! no fucking way he just called you adorable!

“you got a crush on me or something?”

ah.

this is it. you hope you've done enough good to end up in heaven atleast.

“well, if you're not gonna kill me, we should probably just study and get it over with—oh, we should also just go down to the commons—

“i told you to answer all my questions, didn't i!?”

“...”

the blonde finally turns, hands free of any plushies, crossing his arms over his chest as you stare up at him through the gaps of your fingers. he raises a challenging brow at your hesitation.

“well?” he urges on, “did you go mute from embarrassment or something?”

you say something underneath your breath and he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

“speak up, you idio—”

“i like you, bakugou katsuki.”

you stand up from your crouched position and situated yourself to your desk, bringing out your textbooks from a drawer as he stared on silently. the silence had grown thicker than the one before.

“let's just get this study session over with so you can go, okay?” you spin around your office chair to look at him with a small smile, as if you didn't just confess, “wanna go down to the commons? my room seems to be uncomfortable for y—

“i was joking about the creep shit, you dumbass.”

you stare at him in surprise when he holds you by the shoulders, gently pushing down to prevent you from getting up from your chair.

“bakugou...?”

“...i'll teach you here. no need to get up.”

“but—”

“shut up. get ponytail to make me a plushie of you so we're even, alright?”

confused, you're about to speak up again and he resolves it by squeezing your cheeks, resulting in only incoherent babbles from your mouth.

“bafhkugou—!”

“ugh, i like you too, if your dumbass hasn't gotten it yet.”

“ohfmayghodf—”

“shut it. no more words from you.” he waits a moment for you to calm down, and lets go of your burning cheeks. a smile grows on his face when you weakly glare up at him, but it quickly turns wicked in the span of a second.

“now...you were so eager to start studying earlier, weren't you?”

he unfortunately wasn't joking about beating the damn subject onto your brain. you could feel a mild headache from all the times he hit your head with a roll of paper.

but nonetheless, you know the hard work and pain paid off when you finally got a question right during ectoplasm's class.

bless bakugou, you'd kiss him right now if you could—

“so,” the boy in question starts as you discreetly hand him a plushie of you in your hero costume, he seems to brighten up at that, taking it nearly immediately, but attempts to appear unbothered as he moves his gaze back to yours.

“are we gonna talk about that body pillow last night or—”

“katsuki—no.”

“pfft,” he snorts, “suit yourself, fangirl.”

imagine your surprise when yaoyorozu snitches and tells you that bakugou practically threated her to make more plushies of you after he received the initial one

[seattlesellie]

not about love. (part 4 & final)

read: part one || part two || part three

pairing: college loser!ellie williams x fem!reader

synopsis: after ellie kisses someone else, you run. then, you run again. at the end? she finally fucking chases you.

warnings: some miscommunication, slight angst, alcohol & weed, mentions of homophobia (d slur), smut (mdni), oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), scissoring, top!ellie, bottom!reader, panties kink (?), mentions of strap, first time w ellie, love love love <3

authors note: i had so much fun writing this. i hope you guys like it. i’m still thinking about a short part five, but well see how it goes ˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:

"(The Party & The After Party -The Weeknd)"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

---˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹---

it's funny, how guilt begins with a subtle tickle. it's delicate at first, ignited like a gentle caress down her throat. it is not like jealousy, that dawns on you with a thud right inside. for her, for ellie, it's almost like a whisper. it glides down her body, maneuvers its way around, and then it lands inside the pit of her stomach, making it churn, toss and twist from the insides out, like an ever erupting ticking bomb.

she shouldn't have kissed that girl, that, she knew. the answer to why, she truly doesn't know— don't ask her no stupid questions. she knew it was wrong when she slid her tongue down her throat, knew it was wrong when she took the back of her neck into her palm, and felt how wrong it was when she looked deep into her eyes, panting, with a ruby blush creeping up on her cheeks. it wasn't because you left, god knows she would have felt how wrong it was even if you didn't, but alas, you did. you did leave. and that's why right at this second— her brain was fuzzy, knuckles colored white, legs moving faster and faster with no control.

truly, what ellie did wasn't wrong, neither was it selfish. you weren't a couple, she didn't belong to you, and neither you to her. she was a free woman, and so were you. and yet, your imaginations told a completely different tale. the truest colors of your thoughts— ready to erupt and spill out of you as if tomorrow never came.

she must have bumped into at least twenty sweaty, inebriated bodies. the outside world seemed to move and twist in a blur, but her mind moved oh so slowly. it was as if walking to the bathroom, took her over two hours. in reality, it took exactly three minutes, until she bumped into one extraordinarily tall man.

he rocked a bleach blonde buzz cut, a red bandana on his forehead, and ridiculously tiny sunglasses.

"yo— williams!" he declared, stopping her right in her tracks. she looked up to face him, and he was much, much taller.

"dude, look" he said, pointing right at her face, grabbing the attention of his ridiculous looking, slightly shorter pal.

"that's the girl alison likes!" he shouted, and she could feel the beer stench creeping up in her nostrils, making them twist.

"bro, you must be something special, she almost bribed the shit out of kyle just to make you kiss her"

ellie looked around the corridor, her eyes darting from his face to the floor. people... want to kiss her? it made her feel proud, inflating her ego and making it swell hard in her chest. a second later, it completely wore off. she didn't give a fuck about people— not about most of them.

"yeah, hey dude" she huffed, her lips curling up to a shy smile.

"so tell me, williams— did you scissor on the floor?" he interrogated.

"really gotta go to the bathroom" she voiced.

"no dude, wait... let me ask, i’m fucking interested" he uttered, blocking her path and leaning against the cream-colored wall with his arm.

"do lesbians actually fucking scissor?" his shorter friend questioned.

ellie always had a short temper. it would creep up on her when she least expected it, jolting inside of her brain and making the vein on her forehead pop. lately, she's been listening to some guided meditation on youtube. angela, was the name of the lady who's gentle voice she would listen to every once in a while. "deep breath in, and let it out... think of the rain, pouring and pouring, tickling down your window... and let yourself breatheee..." ellie took a deep breath in, and exhaled.

"y'all should send me a video when you're done fucking"

yeah, fuck angela.

"move out of the fucking way man, i gotta piss" she raised her tone slightly. maybe angela's voice still rung in her ears, because she didn't even consider punching him in the face.

"not fucking moving, williams— c'mon, we wanna fucking know all about it"

ellie might have been shorter by several inches, but god knows she was much stronger. with a firm grip on his bicep, she exerted her power and effortlessly tossed him to the side.

"fucking dyke" he snickered.

"die asshole" she uttered, and flipped him off.

the bathroom seemed to be closer, and her pacing was steadier. she was going to talk to you, that's it.

she opened the door, and exhaled. she didn't even know she had been holding her breath. the coppery scent of cigarettes, and overwhelmingly sweet, citrusy bathroom incense tickled at her nose. four women stood in front of the broken mirror. a blonde one, a brunette, one with braids, and one with a big cap on her head. they either giggled at each other, or to themselves, ellie truly didn't care.

"is there anyone in the stalls?" she questioned in a low voice. they clearly couldn't hear, her words barely audible over the overwhelming music that blared from outside.

she cleared her throat, and tried again.

"are the stalls empty?"

the brunette turned around to face her, a radiant smile spreading across her face, revealing a row of gleaming teeth.

"i dunno" she huffed, and turned around to face the friend by her side.

"but you can—" she stifled a giggle, and then it erupted.

"piss on the floor" she quipped, earning herself the symphony of her friend's breathless, intoxicated laughter.

"great" ellie muttered under her breath. just great.

she turned around to face the stalls, and began.

one knock, two knocks— she felt that guilt twisting in her stomach again.

fuck it, she fully banged on the door. those girls left, after they side eyed her shameless, and walked off. if you were anywhere to be found in that bathroom, it was just the two of you now.

she propelled her foot forward at the door, it swung open, propelled by the force, creating a resounding bang against the wall, echoing twice. the air caressed her face, and she shivered. It was not the chill of the room that caused her tremor. what if you weren't there? what if you left?

the third stall's door she kicked as well, and she couldn't hide her disappointment anymore.

"fuck" she hissed.

the fourth one must be empty as well. she didn't exactly believe in luck. she kicked it, the door budged slightly, but it didn't fly open. it was locked.

you lifted your legs up to meet your chin, holding yourself together in a hug. you felt absolutely embarrassed. you knew you didn't have any right to get like this. the tears swelling up in your eyes and the mascara running all over your cheeks, clinging itself to the delicate skin, making it itch and burn had no right to even exist. she didn't belong to you.

she knocked on the door again.

"you in there?" she croaked. did you hear the guilt lacing her words? it was buried inside of her stomach, after all.

"no... i mean— fuck" you sniffled, bumping your palm on your forehead. "no?" really?

"open the door" she uttered.

silence.

"please?"

you wiped the tears from your eyes, and grabbed a piece of toilet paper to wipe the mascara running profusely, leaving dark, messy spots on your cheeks.

"i’m peeing, ellie— go away"

"no you're not, open the door"

she must have heard you sniff away your snot gathering on the tip of your nostrils.

"i just wanna talk" she quietly said, her voice just above a whisper. ellie stood there, her arm steady on the door, waiting for you to let her in.

"dont wanna" *sniff* "talk"

she took a deep breath. "im not moving. i could stay here all night" you knew she could.

"well..." *sniff* "so can i" you hiccuped.

"cool"

"cool" you repeated.

ellie turned her back away from the door, and leaned against it. three whole minutes of absolute silence had passed, neither of you talking, but so much left unsaid. when the image of ellie kissing that girl flashed inside of your brain, hitting you like a lighting bolt, you giggled to yourself.

"what's so funny?" she questioned, crossing her arms.

"shouldn't you be with your new girlfriend?"

that was it for you. no more hiding. if hurt was the main feeling your heart held just five minutes ago, it mixed around with the tangy, salty taste of jealousy now, laced with the spiciness of anger. you twisted the doorknob, and let it fly open, bumping against ellie's back, making her jump to the other side.

you truly couldn't care if she knew you were crying. what's the point of hiding anymore? who gives a fuck. perhaps— it was sudden wind of courage washing over you. most likely— it was the plastic cup filled with cheap vodka cranberry emptying out inside of your stomach. you placed the cup on the sink, and washed your hands. you didn't even glance at ellie, who stared at you in disbelief.

"what the fuck are you talking about?" she probed, her arms slapping down on her thighs.

"alison, duh"

ellie swallowed deeply.

"or arielle or... whatever the hell her name is" you glanced at yourself in the mirror, you looked like a mess. ellie thought you looked beautiful, she wanted to tell you the moment you came out of the building.

she didn't even know what to say, her eyes staring at the floor, attempting to keep it together.

"was the kiss nice?" you wiped your hand on your skirt.

"it looked nice. so hot!" you nudged her shoulder. every single word that came out of your mouth sounded like you had just run a marathon. they flowed out quick, and even the dumbest person alive would know you were talking out of pure jealousy. maybe ellie was even dumber than him.

"what's gotten into you?" she muttered.

"nothing! happy my best friend's gonna get finally ged laid.. god knows you needed it, el" you patted her head. oh, you were done for.

ellie's eyebrows rose. deep, deep breaths. she stood mute, letting you finish your little speech.

it was as if someone pinned up the apple's of your cheeks together and forced you to smile.

"how long has it been since you fucked?" you tilted your head. you didn't make eye contact, you just stared right between her eyebrows. if you looked at her, you'd have probably burst crying.

"let alone... kissed somebody"

ellies tongue brushed the side of her mouth, and her jaw clenched.

"why are you asking me this?"

you averted your gaze to the side, your breath caged in your throat.

"because were best friends, and best friends talk about these thing! and... you really needed to fucking get some pu—"

she moved closer. you couldn't not face her now. you looked into her eyes and god it fucking hurt. there it was again. dont cry, dont fucking cry.

"how long..." it was as if her eyes were chasing yours. look at me, look at me. "has it been for you?"

your entire face felt like it was fucking itching. your nails dug little crescent moons into your palms. her breath tickled your nose and you swore, you've never been this close to her. you tried focusing on her freckles, counting them inside of your mind, pretending to connect the dots in a thin line. it hurt knowing that she must have seen them this close up too.

"this isn't about me, so" you whispered. you wanted to sound assertive, and aggressive, but you failed miserably. you just sounded ridiculous and sad.

"i think it is" she whispered, too. matching you completely. her lips were so plump and they felt so close and—

"why did you cry?"

"i did not cry" is it really a lie, if she knows the truth already?

"tell me" god, she smelled like the most intoxicating thing in the world. your ellie. or not your ellie, just ellie.

"leave me alone" you mumbled.

"no"

"m'not leaving you alone"

you could kiss her now. you could feel her lips brush against yours and you could kiss her, and tell her everything she wants to know, because god knows she needs it.

you were a coward.

you left, and she didn't chase you. she was a coward too.

she needed a fucking blunt.

────────────

the air felt crisp and biting against her skin. the moon, obscured by thick clouds, offered only glimpses of its pale light. shadows danced and flickered, and the distant howl of the wind rung in her ears. the blunt was delicately held between her fingers, and wisps of smoke curled and swirled in the air around her. she took a leisurely drag, and sighed.

she wasn't new to being alone. she liked bathing in solace, surrounded by her thoughts. usually, it felt nice, and it calmed her down. you, you were anything but calming. being alone was like a sunny beach day. being with you was a storm. you made her palms sweat and her heart beat faster. sometimes, she swore she might have a heart attack. you were her best friend, but it never truly felt like it. best friends tell each other everything, best friends hug and they hold each others hands. best friends dont disappear when the sun sets because they are afraid of what might happen in the dark, and they certainly don't feel like there's no more air left to breathe when they're around each other. they dont touch themselves thinking of each other, and their world doesn't crush upon them when they show interest in other people.

she wasn't your best friend, and neither were you her's.

ellie takes another hit. then, she remembers that one day in tenth grade. you both walked home from school, and you stopped right in your tracks. you asked her if she feels weird around you, if this peculiar feeling creeps up on her from time to time as well. when she asked you what you meant, you told her that sometimes it feels like she isn't your friend. that it feels like the universe has glued you two together, but not for the reason she thinks. when she asked you what you thought it was for, you shrugged, and told her that only time will tell. she felt her insides turn and her ears burned bright red. then, you sighed, and said; "maybe were soulmates" she had to stop herself from grinning, or fucking exploding, and her heart missed a beat. "platonic ones, obviously... maybe were not supposed to be best friends, just two souls who float around each other. you got any snacks? m'starving"

she flicks the blunt and the ashes fall down on the grass. she brings it to her lips again, and shuts her eyes close.

"ellie?"

she opens them fast and turns her head around. it takes her a moment to recognize, as the high washes over her body, but she finally sees.

alison.

"can i sit with you?" she asks while moving closer, and gives her a timid smile.

ellie clears her throat, and drags her body over to the side.

"sure"

the ginger sits next to her, and she relaxes her face.

they sit in silence for a moment.

"t'was a nice kiss" she whispers, and ellie looks at her from the corner of her eye. she should feel shy, and nervous being around the girl she had just kissed. for some reason, she doesn't.

"yeah..." ellie affirms.

"t'was"

the girl looks at the ground, and then looks at ellie again. she smiles, and breathes deeply.

"i wasn't the one you wanted to kiss though" she remarks, and lays her back comfortably against the bench.

"mmph— what do you mean?" ellie feels it now. the nervousness. it wasn’t there before.

"your friend" she bites her lip. she's not looking at ellie anymore, she's staring at the ground.

"what... friend?"

"the one who ran off"

ellie doesn't speak, just brings her lips to form a tight line. was it that... obvious?

"i mean... did you at least go after her? she asks, and she says it kindly, like she cares. weird.

ellie takes a second to respond. she considers denying it, running off just like you did. fuck it, she's high enough.

"yes" is all she mutters, and its quiet. she thinks this is the first time she ever talked about it out loud. only her journal knows, her brave soldier holding on to all of her little secrets, and now, alison knows too.

"and... did something happen?"

she wishes something did.

"no she— she ran off. again, so" she takes another drag, and it burns in her throat. she needs a glass of water, a cool one. maybe she needs a bucket to fall on her head too.

"and you didn't chase her?" the girl questions again. ellie feels like she's being interrogated. for some reason she doesn't even begin to understand, she feels relieved in a way, too. who knew talking could be so... nice. maybe its the high, she wonders.

"she clearly... doesn't want me around so— why would i chase her" that sentence carried a sadness to it. her voice broke when she spoke, and she feels like slapping herself across the cheek. she offers alison the blunt, and the girl takes it in between her fingers, and nods.

"so you just... let her go?"

ellie doesn't respond. she wants her blunt back. talking isn't nice, she decides.

"can i ask you a personal question?" alison takes a drag before ellie responds.

"you already sort of did so, be my guest"

"are you in love with her?"

ellie's breath hitches inside her throat, and she feels like digging a hole in the ground and burying herself inside. she knew she was, but it didn't fucking matter. you weren't in love, and that was that.

"people in this college are fucking weird, man" she comments, and in one second she has the blunt right between her fingers again. finally.

"yeah... heard this crazy girl banged up on all of the bathroom doors and started kicking the stalls"

"ah" she huffs.

"touché"

its silent for a second before she asks her again.

"what do you feel when you're around her?"

"are you a psych major by any chance?" she questions, narrowing her eyes.

"yep. so, let me psychoanalyze you. pretend its for my... project or something. i ask you questions, you respond... and then i get a super good grade thanks to you"

she bites her lips, and looks to the side. she considers hiding herself inside of the bush till the girl goes away.

"i'm your therapist, go 'head"

ellie rolls her eyes, and considers. fucking fuck it. maybe writing this shit on paper isn't enough.

"i feel like i can't breathe around her, sometimes. like... there's this fucking thing"

"what thing?"

"fucking... god... thing it’s a fucking thing. i have to stop myself from doing shit... s'fucking stupid."

alison smiles. and she nudges ellie on and on till she speaks again.

"its like— every time i'm fucking around her, it physically hurts me... that I ca— that I can't fucking have her. or that... it like, tingles in my fucking hands. and my fucking heart starts beating and my brain goes all foggy and I feel like I'm going to fucking faint. I want to be around her, I fucking want to— but every time she's next to me I feel like im gonna vomit. and she makes me fucking sick and I just wanna hold her and..."

she's never breathed so deeply in her life.

"that's... a lot" alison mutters.

"yeah..." ellie takes another drag, and barely exhales.

"doesn't fucking matter anyways. she doesn't see me that way."

alison's eyebrows rise up, and she looks at ellie like she's fucking stupid.

"ellie... she saw you kiss me and she fucking ran away. like, she physically ran away. are you blind? or are you stupid?"

"did you just call me stupid?" ellie huffs. was she? was she stupid?

"listen to me" she begins, and forces ellie to look her in the eyes.

"it's like..." the girl takes a peak at her iphone screen.

"1:30am."

"okay?" ellie huffs. her stomach's turning again.

"you're in love with this girl, and if you don't go after her right now it's gonna be too late"

"i can go tomorrow" ellie whispers. she won't. shed go back to her old habits of hiding and pining till her brain burns.

"you won't"

"fuck" she mutters under her breath.

"go!" the girl yells, and nudges ellie's arm.

"okay like— right fucking now?" ellie says loudly, and she feels her feet fucking lifting her up off of the bench, like she again, has no control over her body.

"right now, go!"

she curses herself out under her breath. fuck. it.

ellie starts running, and running, and running, and her shoes are meeting the ground with loud bangs, flopping up and down against her ass. she didn't to track in high school, but if coach charlie saw her now, he'd sign her up and shed get a full fucking athlete's scholarship. she feels her heart thudding in her ears, and she has no time to even think. what the fuck is she doing? where is she going? what if you'll tell her to go the fuck away? what if she's delusional, completely braindead, she wonders to herself for a tiny second, as she catches her breath.

and then— the image of you, mascara running down your cheeks flashes in her brain.

you cried, because she kissed another fucking girl.

"m'not— fucking" she pants,

"delusional"

she's standing right in front of rockefeller housing. brown cobblestone, as if each brick and mortar had witnessed countless stories unfold within its hallowed halls. she gets a hold of herself, before her heart punctuates in her chest, and stands still, chest heaving up and down. she looks up at your room's window, and its standing lit. you're still awake. she feels like she just won the fucking lottery.

she almost whoo hoo's! but she's way too "cool" for that. so she walks slowly, pats herself on the shoulder, and yells a loud;

"fuck yes!"

"shut the fuck up!"

oh shit. she just woke someone up.

────────────

how corny was it to lounge inside of your room, alone, the mellow tunes of lana's "ultraviolence" playing from your antique turntable?

very corny.

but you didn't mind. your tears had dried up already, and you were comfy in pretty white silk pajama's, a bowl of cheddar popcorn and that same goddamn boxed wine.

someone just screamed a terrifyingly loud "shut the fuck up!" from outside of your window. you'd have laughed, usually, but your mind was occupied. you felt tortured, and sickly, and why the fuck did you leave like that? it was embarrassing, truly, she watched you cry, and you interrogated her with bizarre, passive aggressive questions that would make the calmest man alive want to bash his head against the wall.

"breakfast at tiffanys" played on the television, and cat just ran away. you pouted, and sighed deeply. you were too tired now, and your eyelids felt heavy. you lifted yourself off of the bed, and made your way to turn off the lights, and drift away.

knock knock knock.

who the fuck is knocking at your door at 2am? it must be your roommate, jen, returning from the party.

you twist the doorknob, and yawn.

oh god.

"ellie?"

she gulps. she looks down on the floor, and up at you again. she looks absolutely panicked, and her bangs are sticking to her forehead. three of her hair strands formed a sweet little heart shape filled with sweat. her hand is shaking and she would have pounced right on you and fucking kissed you already if she had the fucking courage—

you step back.

"what are you doing here?" you quip, and your voice is so small and sweet that it truly kills her inside.

"i would've—" she takes a small step and enters inside of your room. she looks around, and the candles and the fucking lana playing in the background and she's sure she's gonna be sick because you're so fucking cute and your eyes are puffy and lips all swollen like they had been stung by a bee, and she wants to be your medicine and kiss them so hard you fall on the floor, but all she can mutter is;

"fucking brought you something... but it was all closed— all the fucking stores were closed because its the middle of the fucking night"

"what stores... wha— what are you talking about?" you whisper as you take a step back, you want to offer her a glass of water because she's sweating but you just can't.

"fuck— fucking flower shop or something, or those fucking chocolate covered fruits you like or—“

"what?" you mutter, breathless as if you were the one who just ran a marathon.

"you cried" she points a finger at you. you back away, taking a small step to further yourself away from her.

"you cried because i kissed another girl" she huffs, and her eyebrows scrunch together.

"I didn't—" you try and interrupt, unsuccessfully.

"you cried and that means that you fucking— you dont want me to kiss other girls"

you bite your lip so hard it feels like it might start drawing blood and run all over your chin. oh no.

"you want me to kiss— fuck it"

a supernova. as a dying star unleashes its final act, igniting in like a cosmic firework, it paints the galaxy like a canvas. shades of ruby red, sapphire blue, and shimmering gold intermingle together and create the most beautiful piece of art the universe has ever witnesses.

that's what it felt like when her lips were on yours.

they brushed up against you as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and perhaps it was.

when you imagined your first kiss with ellie, convinced you were indulging yourself in pure delusion, you thought it would be soft, and gentle. it felt as if her lips were running away from yours, and you had to chase them to meet against you again.

this kiss, was anything but. so perhaps you were delusional, but not in the heartbreaking way.

when her tongue first met yours, intertwining itself so perfectly, swirling around fervently inside of your mouth, bumping into your teeth and pulling you in, her lips sucking on it like she'd die if you ever pulled back, gentle was the last word you could use to describe it.

hungry, and ravenous, it was.

her knees felt like the were going to give up beneath her, and leave her a crumpled mess on the floor. if she thought that being around you felt like her heart was thudding out of her chest, kissing you was much, much worse. kissing you made her feel like her heart left her already, and leaped right into your being.

she broke the kiss first, refusing to open her eyes. so did you, you couldn't believe it was actually happening.

"you..." she whispered, and her breath tickled your nose.

"i..." you whispered in response. there were no words you could mutter, they would never come out coherent enough.

"ive..." she huffed.

"wanted to do this for so fucking—"

you brought your lips together to meet again. this time, it was softer, and gentle, but you didn't have to chase her away, because she stayed.

"me too" you whispered, or fully whined, you truly didn't know.

"no you dont..."

"you dont understand" she cupped your cheeks between her palms, she wouldn't even open her eyes, afraid of what she might do if she opened them and realized it was only just a dream.

"i do" you plead. her hands were warm and your cheeks were scorching hot against them.

"i need you"

"you need me?"

"it hurts"

"what hurts?" she whispered as she brushed her finger on your cheek. it was delicate, and soft.

"my heart" you hiccuped, a broken sob escaping your lips. you couldn't hold it in anymore, and a fat tear streamlined down your face, like a little river, rolling down inside of ellie's palm.

she wanted to kiss you again, but she had to hear you say it.

"when i'm... not with you— when i can't... and when you kissed her" you sobbed. "it hurt so bad"

"it hurt me too"

"please kiss me aga—“

so she did. again, and again, and again, till your throat felt dry and you kept seeing stars erupting inside of your brain.

chest against chest, heaving up and down on each other, she caressed your waist, and pulled you closer. when the kissed deepened again, you moaned, and it got swallowed inside of her mouth.

"you can't do that or i won't... fuck— won't be able to fucking stop"

"do what?" you asked, your bottom lip still brushing against her top one.

"can't make those sounds"

"w— why?" your chest caressed her's, and it was ellie's turn to let out a deep grunt.

"because ive thought... ive wa— i think about you all the fucking time like this"

"me too..." you admitted, breathing in her scent.

she wanted to ask you exactly what you thought about. she wanted to hear you say it, in exact, firm sentences. do you touch yourself thinking about her too? that would make her fucking lose her mind. instead, she took you in her arms, and banged you up against the wall.

thud "oh god" you hiccuped.

"yeah?" she teased, breathless. she wanted to do it better, wanted to sound more firm and stern and make you beg and tell her and whine on the floor but she was too fucking desperate for that right now.

"m'gonna— fuck" she hissed, when your tits grazed her's again.

"is this happening?" she whispered, and held your waist so tight in her arms. her body heat against yours made you completely shiver. she traced small circles on your hips but when you bucked forward her hands started shaking. she traced squares, or squiggly lines, or full on octagons.

"it's happening" you whispered back, and every time her lips brushed against yours it reminded you of how real everything was.

"can i touch you?"

"please" you whined, and you felt the saliva gathering and pooling on your bottom lip, mixing with hers.

ellie brushed her forehead against yours. she caressed it up and down, she needed to feel how your skin felt against her's because god knows she's truly spent so much time thinking about it and it didn't feel real, she needed it to feel real, so she begged;

"open your eyes"

you did. they fluttered open as your lashes flickered up and down and she chased you with her eyes again, until they directly met her's.

"tell me how bad you need this"

you gulped harshly, and it made a soft little sound. you felt absolutely limp against her, like you could crush down on the floor at any given moment.

she never thought she'd hear those words, outside of her dreamworld, sound asleep at 4am.

"i need— ellie i need it so bad" you whimpered, and she felt it twitch inside her fucking boxers, but felt it tug at her heart even more. how could have she been so fucking blind?

she opened her mouth, and she almost kept her eyes open whilst she kissed you because she needed to fucking see everything. she needed to see your eyebrows squint and your eyes close shut, your breath hitch and your hand drop from her shoulder, and then go up to grab her shoulder again and squeeze.

ellie, ellie couldn't help it anymore.

she caressed her hand up from the navel of your stomach, slowly grazing her finger up and up and up, till they met your breast and fuck she wanted to ask you if it was okay but the way you moaned inside of her mouth when she gave the cup a little squeeze, signaled her that she could do whatever the hell she wanted because you've always. been. her's.

as her tongue swirled with yours, warm saliva practically running out and streamlining from the corner of her mouth, she grazed her finger on top of your clothed nipple.

she separated her lips from yours, and moved her head back to look at you.

"you know how fucking crazy you drive me?" she pecked your lips forcefully and they made a smacking sound. you smirked, your eyes still glossy from the previous tear that escaped, and she nearly lost her damn mind.

"dont fucking smirk at me like that..." she kissed your jaw, making your entire body clench. "always fucking teasing me" kiss "always making me think..." kiss "i'll never fucking get it" kiss "driving me fucking crazy with those little fucking tops" kiss "those short fucking skirts" kiss

fuck.

"just wanted you to s— see, ellie..."

she tilted her head, and smiled so big and blushed so hard you nearly cried again.

"can i... can i take your shirt off?

you nodded up and down and fervently, like if you didn't show her exactly how bad you needed her she'll never fucking get it. old habits die hard.

she pulled the strap of your tank top off, and it slid down your shoulder. she let out a shaky breath. she's thought of seeing you bare in front of her way too many times than she'd like to admit. she saw the tip of your hard nipples poking out of the material and her breath hitched, borderline on wheezing. she delicately grazed her finger on it, stopping herself from pinching it and twisting and pulling like she always fucking wanted to. she had to go slow, she had to savor this moment.

you couldn't go slow.

you lifted your top off and ditched it on the floor. she was faced with your tits and she nearly damn went cross eyed. holy fucking shit.

"holy fuck" she hissed, her chest heaving up and down. her boxers were entierly drenched by now and she hasn't even touched them, until now.

she grabbed them with her calloused hands and squeezed them together, making them meet and form a natural cleavage. when she exhaled, a soft sound escaped her throat. it sounded like a quiet howl, or a harsh whimper.

"need to fucking taste" she growled, and your panties felt warm inside, and it tingled, that familiar yet completely different feeling washed over your cunt, as soon as her drooling, wet mouth was on your nipples, twisting and swirling her tongue against the sensitive buds, sucking and taking them out of her mouth with plop sounds, and every time she felt you squirm she moaned against them, her mouth fully vibrating on your nipples.

she detached her lips, just to look up at you with a lovedrunk smile adorning her face. she looked absolutely high on your body and you didn't even notice... that you started grinding up against her, bucking your hips inwards and backwards every time her head bobbed up and down on your tits.

"what am i..." she pulled your nipple in her finger, twisting it from side to side, making you nearly scream. you slapped your hand on your mouth, because if you didn’t— you’d fully get a stern note from the other residents tomorrow morning. "going to fucking do with you?"

"i think you know... ellie" you hiccuped.

"say my name again" she groaned, forcefully grabbing your tits now. she shook them up and down, and parted your thighs with her leg.

"ellie..." you whimpered, completely gasping for air.

"again"

"ellie!"

"fuck yes..."

her ongoing imaginations of you whimpering her name had absolutely nothing on the real deal. she picked you up, her hands grasping your thighs, and laid you on the bed. laid, would be a gentle way to say it. she practically tossed you on it, making the mattress jump up and down and creak slightly. she laid her body on top of yours, and her chest felt strong and steady, except for two perky mounds that connected directly with yours.

"please take your shirt off" you pled.

"take it off of me" she hissed, planting another sweet, sweet kiss on your breasts. she was fucking obsessed with them, and she wasn't afraid to show it now. it’s funny, how a only a week ago, she had to contemplate having her eyeballs surgically removed because she couldn’t stop her eyes from darting up and down. she could actually adore them now, and she felt it deep in her lower abdomen.

you tugged at the bottom of her top, hastily attempting to take it off fast because you yearned to see her so bad it almost hurt, but she palmed your hands and stopped you fully.

"nuh uh" she warned.

"slowly..."

you look up at her, doe eyed and begging. your breath caged in your throat, because this is real. it fucking hit you again.

when she saw you look up, it tugged at the strings of her heart.

she kisses you, and it feels like something you've never felt before. it feels warm, and it feels like fucking love. it was as if you became liquid, what was once solid, and hard, melted into a sweet puddle of warm honey.

she wants to take your shorts off already, but she stops herself. she looks you deep in the eyes, and her cheeks bloom red. she's in love.

and she knows you are too.

would it be awfully corny if she told you she wanted to make love to you? it probably would. for some reason, she didn’t need to vocalize it.

now, it was her eyes who turned glassy, making the emerald green glisten and twinkle.

"i need to..." you dont respond, you just do what she needs you to do.

you take your shorts off, and ellie simply stares down, panting, as her heart thuds inside of her chest. the way she looks, like she's absolutely famished, makes your clit pump inside of your panties that it terrifies you if she actually sees.

you shyly cover up, and she smiles gently as she grabs your wrists to peel them off of the soft, now sticky fabric.

"dont be shy..." she whispers, and when she see's the wet patch that formed, that pooled down just where your tight hole is, her face twists and she bites her lips. when she looked up at you, you turned your head to the side.

"look at that..." she chuckles, and it's fucking hypoctirical, the way she's mocking— because she has a spot even bigger on the bottom of her boxers, except she's fucking dressed and youre not.

"need to kiss it..." she desperately says, her voice low and raspy.

"need you to tell me..." she kisses your tummy, softly, as it heaves up and down. "to kiss it..." with every breath that leaves her, she kisses it again, her tongue now poking out of her mouth.

"mm— cant" you whimper. when did you become so shy?

"please" she begs, as her kisses become more wet, leaving little trails and puddles of saliva on your stomach.

"ellie..." you hiccup, feeling as if you could cum just by grinding your crotch back and forth against the air. her words are more than enough.

"say it..." she pleads, and it gets absolutely ridicilous— who's begging who now?

"please kiss— god" she simply palms your cunt, right on your panties, her warmth mixing with yours, and an incredibly loud, high pitched moan, closer to a screech leaves your mouth. the sound makes her groan into your stomach, moving her kisses further and further down. with each kiss, your body grows warmer, a certain tremor adding to your sudden jolts.

when she's face to face with your cunt, directly gazing at the wet spot, she closes her eyes shut, and plants a soft kiss upon the wet material. she's thought about doing this so many times, she has to stop herself from sneaking her hand down her boxers and start grinding up and down on it, and cum simply from just smelling you, as her nose bumps directly on your clit.

she wants to see it bad, those slick beautiful folds she had imagine so many times, the little bud poking on top, but she can't help but notice how greedy and eager you get when she teases you. she can't help but notice those cute little sounds that escape your throat, the way your eyebrows squint together and a small v shaped line forms on your forehead.

she gives a soft, kitten lick over the material, and you completely jump upwards. "ellie! fuck!" you moan, and she swears its the most heavenly sound she's ever heard. "that's it... grind yourself up against me... just like that"

you grind against her eager mouth, her tongue making the fabric transform into almost full sheerness, clinging and sticking to your cunt, every time ellie drools on it a little more.

"fuck m'gonna!— cum... ellie!" you hiccup and wheeze, and she can't help but pull your hips, move you closer to her mouth, as your thighs completely close and clench around her neck. but she doesn't fucking care.

she's going to make you cum all over your fucking panties.

she needs it. she yearns for it.

she bumps her tongue harder and flattens it against your clit, grinding you down, completely controlled by the very movements of her hands, guiding your through it and forcing you to keep moving against her.

it's closer, and closer, the white pleasure taking over your entire body, and you start shaking against her—

"cum for me... that's it" she whimpers, "cum hard all over my— fuck, my fucking face"

you barely even have time to recover, still completely sensitive, your entire body shaking when she takes off your panties, sniffs them shamelessly, and shoves them in her pocket.

"what are you d— doing?" you hiccup.

"dont worry about it" she mutters, and her entire face flushes red.

you dont, so instead, you beg for her to let you come again. she doesn’t, for now, and it was pure evil.

ellie's jaw clenches when she's face to face with your weeping pussy. her breath caged in her throat, and she lets out a high pitched, animalistic moan, followed by an adorable twist to her face. she's imagined it too many fucking times.

she'd tell you, but she's afraid to come off as pathetic.

slowly, agonizingly slow, with the intention to savor this moment, she places a soft, sweet little kiss on your cunt. you jump, and call out her name. she places another one, and another one, right on your achy clit. before she indulges herself in the first taste, she looks up at you.

"you're so beautiful" she whispers. and you know how bad she means it, because it comes out shaky, and you can taste how sweet those words are and really they’re just words.

you nearly die.

"and so fucking wet"

you nearly cum.

"mmph— ellie, please" you breathe. "pleasepleaseplease"

she doesn't need to hear any more of it, before her tongue laps up the sweet nectar of your pussy, starting with your hole, collecting the juice with the bottom of her tongue, curling it, and swallowing. "taste so fucking good"... she mutters. "knew you would"

she truly, truly did.

ellie slowly begins circling your clit with her tongue, in soft, little motions that focus right on your aching bud. one of her hands is squeezing your thigh, as the other creeps up slowly to grab your breast and toy with the nipple. its so fucking soft inside of her mouth that she can't help but grind herself down on the bed, the cream that formed inside of her boxers making it easy to slide backwards and inwards, and she releases sweet, desperate moans inside of your pussy every time it hits her clit.

when ellie feels you clench your hole in and out, she spreads your pussy lips apart, spits a big glob of saliva on top of your clit, making it slide all the way down to your hole.

"need to fill you up, fuck" she growls, and before you know it, her tongue is on you again, and her finger is teasing and begging your hole to let her in.

"baby" she coos, "let go for me"

"c— cant!" you cry out. its all too much, and you feel so embarrassed that you won't stop clenching, till she looks up at you again.

"breathe... it's okay" she whispers, "i'll be gentle, i fucking promise"

when you breathe in for her, she grits her teeth. fucking finally. she slides her finger inside, so slow you regret ever making her think you'd want it gentle, so you grind up on it, bringing your body forward so it swallows her finger whole.

"god damn" she hisses, and her voice is higher pitched because she can't fucking believe it.

she wants to whore you the fuck out, but she needs to be gentle for now. she considers… for just a mere second, to sprint to her room, grab her strap and split you whole, but she stops herself. she genuinely needs to grab her fucking knee so she doesn’t move away and lose control entirely.

she pumps it inside, lost in the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing her in, over and over again, lapping up on your clit, and when she feels you clench again, coming closer and closer to the edge, she adds a second finger.

"so fucking tight... you're so fucking tight" she says, and pushes your thighs up to your chest, your entire body shaking against her. you whimper and squeak and cry, babbling incoherently while she's scissoring them inside of you, grunting deep inside of your pussy every time your moans grow louder and louder.

the mattress seems to bump on her clit harder now, and ellie completely stops.

she hastily pulls her pants down, alongside with her boxers, and before you even have time to react to the sight of her cunt or her thighs or the abs that you're now exposed to (you honest to god, have no idea when she even managed to take her shirt off), she pulls your thigh high up, and places your leg on her shoulder.

"you're gonna cum on me— you hear that?" she hisses, when her weeping pussy meets yours. "yes ellie!" you hiccup, "louder"

"mmm—ellie— can'— need to cum on you"

"you wanna fucking cum on me?" she babbles back, and it comes out so messy and pussydrunk that she doesn't even reply back when you cry out with your forehead against her shoulder, biting on it hard, too intoxicated by your little moans and the feeling of your weeping, sticky pussy against hers, bumping her clit and it almost fucking burns inside of her.

she separates your legs further apart, and her gaze burns through you. her eyes are still green, and its still fucking ellie— but they turn a shade darker. she grinds against you forcefully, making your clit bump on her’s, your love-fluids mixing together and creating the most absolutely obscene noises that little dorm room has ever heard. when you close your eyes, because it’s all too much and she’s grunting and whimpering against you, she takes your cheeks in her hands and squeezes.

“look at me. look at me” she begs, and you keep blurting out tiny little squeals of pleasure that she cant help but let out a breathy laugh, and she wants to slap you and hear you squirm even harder but fuck— she’s gonna cum and she can’t even make her hands fucking work, so she just grabs your tits together as she grinds harder and harder, her ass jiggling up and down as she takes you.

“you’re so fucking— goddamn— so fucking cute you’re so fucking pretty”

"m'gonna cum!" you blabber, you brain entirely empty, only filled with the image of ellie's mouth hung completely open, letting out a beautiful symphony of moans, screaming and grunting your name and begging you to fucking take her, and when the tears stream down your face she can't help but wonder... how needy you'd look with her strap buried deep and when the thought hits her— when she imagined the way your hole would take her right inside, the way it would gape after she'd take it out, makes her cum so hard against your pussy that she almost, almost passes out.

when you cum, a second after she does, you tell her that you love her.

when she hears it, a small whimper escapes her lips, and it sounds almost like a sob.

"ive always fucking loved you"

[thehorrorgirlstyles]

Best kept Secret

Part 2

Billy Hargrove x Harrington!reader

Find P1 here!

Summary: Billy is a dick to everyone and your brother is his number one hater, however, he's so hard to resist.

Warnings: mentions of violence, fighting, sexual comments, blood, swearing, derogatory words, public sex, mentions of kinks

______________________________________________________________

It's been 2 days since you seen or heard anything from Billy. Usually he sneaks into your room at night and you lay together until you fall asleep. You've been having the hardest time going to bed since he hasn't been there and on top of that you feel like shit since you basically said you didn't want to been seen with him. Billy is a straight up asshole, but he has always been good to you. You know that deep down he has a good heart and now you feel like you just destroyed the chances of him ever being nice.

You know he's avoiding you. It's obviously by the way he picks up speed when you try to get close to him.

"This shit is so stupid!"

You've been working on a project, but all you can think about is Billy.

"We just have to write one more paragraph then we're done" Nancy says while grabbing the closest pen.

"I'm not talking about this..I mean this is stupid to, but I'm talking about Billy".

You trust Nancy more than anyone, her being the only one that you told your relationship about. She has been your best friend before she started dating your brother and even after they broke up.

"Oh...well just talk to him" she says giving you a look like its the most obviously answer to your solution.

"I would but he won't even look at me...I saw him today for the first time since our fight and he practically ran the other way like he couldn't get out the hall any quicker".

"Why don't you try calling him or showing up to his house...that way he won't have anywhere to run to?"

You ponder her words, that actually isn't a bad idea you think.

"Whatever you do..I think it might be time to tell Steve..you know you can't keep lying to him, he is your brother after all and you shouldn't keep things from him especially if you plan on being with Billy for a while".

You groan, knowing that she is right, but you don't have it in you to tell him..at least not yet.

______________________________________________________________

You hear the phone ring as you put it to your ear, praying for him to answer.

"Hello?"

It's a girl's voice.

"Um hello?" This is stupid you think, he has a girl over?

"Yeah, who is this?"

"Who are you?!" You grow angry, its only been 2 days there's no way Billy would have moved on that quickly..I mean he couldn't?!

"You're the one calling me?" she replies her voice sounding annoyed. "This is Max" she continues.

Max?! You think to yourself, trying to picture a Max at your school.

"Hello! Are you going to tell me what you want?" Max grows impatience, on the verge of hanging up the phone.

"I was hoping to speak with Billy".

"Billy!" You hear Max yell over the phone and some other movements follow.

"What do you want, who is this?" You hear his voice and you realize just how must you have missed him.

"Billy? I ju-just wanna talk to you..in person" You forgot what you were even going to say.

"Y/n?" he asks. "Look you already had plenty to say, I don't think we need to talk anymore".

Your heart drops, "Wait, Please! Don't hang up!"

You hear him sigh, "What is it?"

"Please, just come to my house tonight..I need to see you, if you still hate me afterwards I'll never bother you again..I promise". Even though it breaks your heart at the thought of losing him, you understand if he wouldn't want anything to do with you.

"Fine" You hear the phone go silent as he hangs up.

______________________________________________________________

You look at the clock, it's almsot midnight and still no signs of Billy coming. You sigh thinking that maybe you should just go to bed, but then you hear a sound. A tap coming from your window. You look over and see Billy waiting for you to let him in. You rush over, opening the window. He comes in and takes a sit on your bed.

"Hi". You look at him, not knowing where to begin. He doesn't say anything and just stares at your floor, picking at his jeans.

"Billy, please just look at me at least". Still nothing.

"Look, I'm sorry, I was so out of line on what I said" You take a breath. "I know what I said was wrong and as your girlfriend I should've known how my words could have affected you". He finally looks at you, giving a look that tells you to keep on going.

"I fucked up..bad and I want to fix it, I want to be with you Billy" You know your apology is half-assed, but you don't really know what else to say, you suck at this.

He stands up, walking over to you. When he's close, he takes your hand. "I want to be with you too princess" He takes a minute and looks at you, "I know what you said was true, I am an asshole" he smirks. You laugh and grip his hand back. "It just was different hearing it come from your mouth, but you can make it up to me somehow" he winks at you.

You slap his arm and he chuckles. "You don't know what you do to me Y/n, how badly its been for me and so hard its been having to not look at you and walk the other way..I don't want to go another day without touching you and hearing your beautiful laugh" he looks at you seriously.

What the hell since when did Billy become a softie? You like it, but then you remember something.

"Who is Max?!" You pull away from him. "The girl that you had at your house".

"Max?" he looks at you and starts to laugh. "My sister Maxine" He laughs even harder. You blush in response, ohh that's right he did say he had a step-sister you remember know, they don't get along really well.

"Where you jealous?" he asks as he grabs you by the hips, pulling you in closer. You swat at his arm, "No..." You trail off. He smiles and leans in. You close the gap, his mouth starting to move against yours.

He guides you back to your bed without breaking the kiss. When you feel the bed hit the bottom of your legs you pull away and lay down on the bed slowly, your back hitting the bed. He follows and gets on top of you, reaching for your lips again. You meet him, grabbing his neck, drawing him in closer. He groans into the kiss and you whimper. You move your hips up to meet his as he grinds into you. The friction of his jeans has you moaning out as you wrap your legs around him.

"Fuck y/n" he groans, trailing a hand down your body. He moves his kisses to your neck, sucking, as he starts to leave marks. You're so lost in pleasure that you both don't hear the front door slamming shut.

"Arghhh~ Billy!" You moan his name, too busy to hear the footsteps nearing the stairs.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" You both jump, halting your movements as you look towards your bedroom door.

"GET THE FUCK OFF MY SISTER HARGROVE!"

You see your brother standing there, rage bubbling up in him. Shit, how were you going to explain this?!

[hotluncheddie]

omg I didn't realize you wanted chubby steddie asks 🙈

as much as we love the babygirlification of Steve Harrington..... I'm obsessed with boyish manly Steve who is chubby and Eddie is obsessed with him!!!! I'm thinking about your one fic with the sweaty tank top!!!!! do you have more thoughts on this??

yesssssss!!! anon yes yesssssssss!!!!!

not me being like 'yeah! sweaty task top fic nice nice' then realising i have like three different posts that have Steve in a sweaty tank top lol

thankfully @scoops-aboy86 came in clutch with a new tank top sciario <3 (and held my hand thru writing the end lmao ty pal)

but i just love an ex jock trope, i love bulk under muscle and i think big beefy hairy guys are hot - and Steve harrington deserves to be all of that, and more

and also, importantly, eddie munson deserves to have all of that too, in and around him, all the time, in the form of Steve Harrington.

-

Eddie had come to accept the wealth of things he could be into, the actual buffet of people and scenarios that could get his dick hard. He's had more than his fair share of knuckle biting orgasms over the ex chief of police Jim Hopper. Before and, maybe worse, after getting to know him.

So he knew what it was to have something of a shame wank. To enjoy a moustache or two and a paunch at a middle.

But nothing, no deep seated daddy issues or fantasy of being held down, could ever prepare him for Steve Harrington.

Post upside down, post eventual college and transition to work. Post two bed apartment with Robin, then two bed apartment with Robin and Eddie. Then actual full blow house with Eddie, and more often than not weekend guest Robin. Dating Steve for as long as has was one thing, loving Steve with everything he had was another, and being loved by Steve was something he still had nights of panic about - silent tears as fear and self doubt gripped his throat, nightmares about it all being an elaborate prank that sneak their way in even with Steves arms wrapped tight around his middle.

but Eddie had him.

Was allowed to love him, and worship Steve for all that he was worth. It was wonderful. Eddie knew that.

But it had its challenges. Nothing past Eddie could've done would help current Eddie for what he was in for.

Like how Steve had bulked up over the years, settled and filled out in a way that made those visions of Hopper, and guys from bars he really shouldn't have been at, all come surging back.

Steve was thick, and strong and still so achingly beautiful. Boyish in his actions at times but also protective and capable in a way that made Eddie swoon. Honest to god. Made him feel like a main character in one of those bodice ripper books he had seen (taken out and read) at the library.

And then Steve made it worse.

So so so much worse.

Because Steve went and got a tattoo.

Well, another tattoo. He added roses to go along with the robin and branch on his arm, adding to its greenery with red petals and thorns that Eddie knew were secretly for him. He’d said, offhandedly, that they were his favourite and he knows, because he knows Steve, that thats something he'd listen to and remember.

He’s a die hard romantic.

And now Eddie is going to die, hard.

Soon, if Steve doesn't put a proper fucking shirt on.

Steves been wearing his stupid, old, cropped, white tank top since the appointment. He's "letting the tattoo breathe", "doesn't like the feeling of the healing skin against the fabric", "wants to do it properly". "hates Eddie and wants him to die of hard dick, big-fat-ball disease."

He glares at Steve from the other end of the couch, and maybe only three of those things are something Steve's actually said, but, he thought them. All of them. Must have.

Because Steve's tank is so old it's nearly see through, the peak of his pink nipple evident and distracting. The cropped end keeps rolling up and exposing his wider bellybutton and soft sides. And, as always, with any tank top, with any tank top on Steve, hit tits are there - hairy and lovely and out.

'Steve, please.' Eddie whines, he doesn't think he can take much more.

Steve just raises his eyebrows, taking a swig of beer and not looking away from the tv. 'If I sweat too much, it'll mess with the healing.' He says.

Eddie just crosses his arms, sinks lower into the couch. ‘Can you put on a normal shirt at least? For my sanity, for that alone, please?' Not wanting to sound desperate, but he is desperate.

Steve sighs, muting the TV. 'C'mere.' He holds his arms out and Eddie crawls into his lap. Still sulking, arms still crossed. ‘Eddie, you’re the one who gave me the tattoo. I’m following your instructions.’ Steve says gently.

‘M’firing Robin for getting you to sign the info form.’ He grumbles.

Steve smiles at him, tucking some hair behind his ears. ‘You can’t fire her for doing her job baby.’

‘Maybe not’ Eddie sniffs. ‘But I’m not sharing my baby blue ink with her next time she gets one of her slutty little lady sailor pin ups booked in.’ He mumbles to himself.

Steve pulls Eddie in closer, hands on his waist as he leans in to whisper in Eddies ear. 'Aren't I being so good though? Following what you said, no strenuous activity for two days right?' His voice a little breathy, soft.

And that makes Eddie pause, makes his insides churn and his heart rate increase. 'Ye-yeah.' He rasps, eyes wide. 'So good Stevie.'

'So we have to wait until tomorrow, like you said, yeah?' Steve asks, eyes all big and sweet, lips in a little pouty.

Fuck. He's right. Eddie dug his own grave.

'Yeah.' He sighs. He can do it, for Steve.

Steve smiles sweetly at him, tapping Eddie on the ass and shifting him closer so Steve can unmute the tv and keep watching his game. 'Good boy.' Steve says, kissing Eddies temple.

…Wait. Eddie scrunches his eyebrows, half hard and confused.

But Steve just holds him closer. Eddie buries his head in Steve's neck, and whines.

[comet-forgot-you]

heyy idk if you're taking requests, but could you write River x reader where she's more dominant?? and maybe reader is more feminine?? I'm obsessed with River...

ofc bae, kinda hard to write for fem reader bc im more masc, so if this is bad im so sorry :[

remember

dealer!river x fem!reader

summary: river loves leaving you hanging, but she just thinks you’re so hot :(

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, strap use, top!river, orgasm denial, marijuana use, fingering, oral, teasing, river takes a picture, rivers a lil mean. like a lot a little. lots of cursing idk, lmk if theres more! do not repost this work as your own.

a/n: this took me so long to write lol, im sorry anon 😭. i kinda dont like this, i tried im sorry. anyway i kept accidentally writing amber instead of river and i literally don’t know why. enjoy :D

the air of river’s room was humid, the sounds of you panting being the only thing heard over the blaring music of the ongoing party outside of the room was the sounds of your pants and river’s endless remarks.

“gonna cum? already? we haven’t even been here that long,” her strap is bottomed out in you as she whispers the words mockingly in your ear. you whine against her jaw, hips struggling to keep up with the quick pace river had set.

"m' sorry," your words are slurred, thoughts jumbled together, the only thing the actually makes sense in the moment is river.

river chuckles, pulling back to get a better look at you. "what? my cock making you feels so good you can't even speak properly?" she asks mockingly, rolling your nipples between her fingers.

“riv.. please lemme,” your sentence is cut off by a shaky exhale. “lemme cum. please, riv.” a knock comes from the door and you hold back the cry that threatens to escape as river halts her movements and pushes herself off of you.

“what?” she yells, head snapping to the door. she glances down at you, your eyes brimming with tears, hips trying to grind down on the strap still nestled inside of you.

“you have a client,” a voice yells from the other side. river holds your hips down, your head shaking “no”

you knew how this would play out. river would be a huge fucking tease all night, hands crawling up the skirt she picked out, whispering dirty words in your ears, kisses on all the spots she knew drove you insane. you knew that if you didnt cum now, you wouldn’t until everyone left.

“please, river, don’t- fuck,” river’s thrust into you, your own moan cuts your words off.

“i’ll be right there,” she yells back. your eyes widen and river’s lips curl up into a mocking smile. “be a good girl, yeah? get dressed and join the party,” she mumbles. she pulls out of you and you whimper out at the emptiness.

“riv,” you whine her name, hoping to draw her back in. her eyes never leave yours, that stupid smile doesnt leave as she tucks the strap back into her pants.

she leans down, pressing kisses from your thighs to your jaw. “cmon, baby, dont wanna make the customer wait forever now, do we?” she pulls back slightly, her face so close to yours, you want nothing more than to kiss her. she grabs something off of her bed, and once she starts strapping it to your thigh, you know what shes about to ask you. “hold this for me, hmm?” its not really a question, though. you know she’ll tuck the lighter into the thigh garter whether or not you say yes or no.

shes off of you in seconds, heading to the door and looking back at you with that stupid smile. you groan. god was it going to be a long night.

—

river’s endless teasing and “innocent” words had you dripping. the cotton covering your cunt was stuck to your folds. you hated how much of a tease she was. every single movement she made had your head spinning with want.

even now as you sat on the couch, room filled with guards that were there solely to make sure things didnt go south, your legs draped across river’s thighs, she was still teasing you. hands trailing against the soft fat of your thighs, that pit in your stomach had yet to cool down, there was no way you could wait until the end of the night for her to fuck you.

river reaches into her pocket, taking out a small cigarette case she put joints in instead. she looks at you for what feels like the first time since you left her room. “you got a light, baby?” its a dumb question, really. she knew you had one, after all, she was the one who had tucked it into the thigh garter. you nod and river wastes no time sneaking her hand under your skirt to fish the lighter out.

she acts as if there werent eyes on her at all times. she brushes against your clothed cunt and it takes everything in you not to whimper at the feeling. she quickly grabs the lighter before removing her hand and lighting the joint hanging loosely from her lips.

you cant focus on the words she says to the client, only on the movements she makes. the way her jaw flexes as she clenches when the man makes a stupid remark, the way she stares him down like hes nothing, like he cant do anything. everything about her radiates so much power and confidence.

as soon as the guy leaves, you press yourself up against river, hand on her thigh as you lean in to whisper in her ear. “need you s’ bad, mamas. need you t’ fill me up again. please? i’ll be so good i promise.” your words are filthy, but every word was the truth. you knew exactly what buttons to push to make river fold. you knew that if you kissed her jaw, or left marks across her neck, she’d do anything you asked of her. so you did exactly that. holding her jaw with your free hand, you leave a cluster of red marks that would soon bloom to a shade of purple. river grips your thigh, a rush of hear spreading throughout both of your bodies.

“god, y’know just how to rile me up, dont you. so fuckin’ needy.” you smile against her neck.

“cant help it, mamas,” you mumble. the name makes her close her mouth to prevent the groan that threatens to escape. but you feel the vibrations against your lips. she stands, guiding you out of the room, leading you through the crowded hallways to her room.

your back is against the door in an instant, her lips against yours as she tries to undo the belt around her waist with one hand, her other eagerly groping at your tit. you whine at her neediness, it matches your own and your hands fly to the belt to try and help her. your kisses are so messy and hungry, its hard to think about much of anything else. you manage to unbuckle the belt and slide her pants off. she makes quick work of undressing you, guiding the two of you to her bed. her strap pressed against your clothed cunt and your moaning against her lips.

“fuck, river please just,” you groan, arching up into her as her lips attach to your nipple, “jus’ fuck me, mamas please. need you t’ fill me up,” you a whining mess. amber pulls your soaked panties down your legs before parting your legs to look at the mess between your thighs.

“fuck, you’re so fucking wet, y/n. were you that fucking needy for me?” you whine, trying to close your legs, but her hands keep them spread. “nuh-uh, you don’t get to hide it now. not when you begged me to fuck you in front of my guys,” she sounds so mean, you swallow thickly, worried you had genuinely upset her. but the way she wraps her lips around your throbbing clit, you know its not genuine. your moans echo off of the walls, you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your sounds, hyperaware of the crowd of people just outside of the doors.

two of her fingers sink into your cunt, her other hand pulling your hand away from your mouth. “don’t do that, let them all hear how good im fucking you. let em know you’re mine.” she laces her fingers with yours, her lips returning to wrap around your clit. her fingers curl up into your cunt and your fingers lace into her hair.

“fuck, river!” your hips are bucking up into her her warm mouth. “gon’ cum, you feel so good.” she squeezes your hand, and your gushing around her fingers. she’s quick to lap up your juices before standing to tower over you. she presses her fingers against your lips and you take them in your mouth to suck your juices off of them. shes rolling your nipples between her fingers, her strap prodding at your entrance. you buck against it, your cunt sensitive after the orgasm river had just given you.

“need you to fill me up river,” her voice is mocking your previous words. “need you so bad, god im just such a fucking slut i just cant wait for you to fill me up,” her words cause tears to prickle in your eyes. did you really sound like that? were you really that needy? her strap pushes into you, her lips wrapping around the plush of your tits to leave marks that she’d be taking so many pictures of later. the familiar stretch of your cunt has any thoughts of insecurity rushing out of your mind in an instant.

“riv,” you whine out at her slow pace.

“riv,” she mocks in a high pitched voice. “what is it baby? not enough for your needy cunt? need me to be pounding into just to be satisfied?” your eyes roll back as she bottoms out. a tear slides down your face. you cant tell if its from the pleasure or from her words. river had never been this.. mean before. you didnt mind, the pit in your stomach growing with every word.

river’s movements speed up. her strap fills you up so good, hitting spots inside of you that have you seeing stars. her mouth feels so good against your body, her hands keeping your thighs parted. “so fucking pretty,” she groans against your jaw, her breathing heavy against your skin.

“feels s’ good mamas, fuck,” your thighs shake against her hands, the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter with every single move river makes.

“yeah? gonna cum again? so fuckin,” she shudders when your fingers brush against her nipples, “fuck, so fucking needy. this cunt is practically sucking me in, shit,” she exhales sharply against your skin. you can tell she’s close to hitting her own high with the way her thrusts get sloppier and her breathing gets shakier

“fuck, river,” your moans are loud.

“c’mon, cum for me, go on,” your high hits just as river’s does. her strap stuffed so deep inside of you, “did s’ good,” she mumbles against your ear. “so fuckin good, shit,” shes rolling her hips against yours, trying to make both of your highs last a little longer. she lifts herself off of you, admiring the sight beneath her. “fuck,” she groans lowly.

she reaches for her phone off of the night stand, snapping a picture of you in your fucked out state. “so fuckin’ hot, baby.”

[sphylor]

For the kiss prompts, number 21 with Mountaindew if you wanna! Please and thank you 🖤

can i just say thank you so so much for sending this?? i havent been able to stop thinking about it all day KJNFHBS ive been tossing around some ideas in my head for a couple of months now but this helped me turn those into actual writing shjbfd also on AO3

21. …on a place of insecurity. (cw for body dysmorphia)

Dew picked up the pair of jeans he had tossed to the floor before going to sleep the previous night and stepped into them. They slipped past his calves and over his knees with ease as he pulled them up. When they reached the meat of his thighs, though, he had to shimmy them up a little. He did his fly up and turned to reach for a tshirt but paused when he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

Something felt off. He stepped closer, trying to figure out what it was. He looked at where his trousers met his waist and noticed how they dug into his pale skin, causing it to ever so slightly spill over the top of his jeans. He frowned. 

There was a knock at the door and the sound of creaking as it opened.

“Hey, firefly. Are you ready to come help me in the greenhouse?” 

Dew didn’t turn to greet Mountain, he didn’t even lift his gaze to look at the earth ghoul’s reflection in the mirror. His eyes were still fixed on the fat of his waist and his brain was filled with roaring static. His view of the mirror was blocked, though, as Mountain stood in front of him. Dew sucked in a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been withholding and looked up at Mountain

“What’s wrong, droplet?” The concern in Mountain’s voice echoed the expression on his face. 

“I-” Dew faltered. He felt stupid for feeling so weird about it. He looked down at the ground in shame. Except his gaze never reached the ground, it got caught again on his waist. 

Mountain followed his line of sight and smiled softly. “I see...”

“I gained weight, Mount.” Dew’s voice shook slightly as he said it and he felt even more pathetic.

“You did.” Mountain agreed. “I’m guessing you’re not feeling too great about it, though?”

Dew shook his head and Mountain hummed as moved to kneel before Dew.

“I can understand where those feelings might be coming from… May I touch you?”

Dew nodded and Mountain gently placed his hands on his waist. “Do you remember how thin you were when you were first summoned? I do,” the earth ghoul brushed his calloused thumbs against Dew’s soft skin. “Your hip bones jutted out so prominently,” he moved his thumbs to circle the bumps of Dew’s hips, delicately pressing into the small layer of fat between the skin and the bone. “And your stomach looked like it had never been home to a good meal in its life,” Dew shuddered as Mountain pulled a hand away from his hip to stroke down the gentle curve of his belly. “I thought you were the most beautiful ghoul I had ever seen. But I also didn’t know if you were gonna make it-” Mountain’s voice broke slightly as he looked up at Dew, who wiped a tear from his cheek before the earth ghoul could notice it falling. “I still think you’re the most beautiful ghoul I have ever seen. But now? You have never looked more alive.”

Dew didn’t know what to say. He was overwhelmed with emotions that he couldn’t even name. He tried to open his mouth to speak, to tell Mountain how much he appreciated his words, his whole existence. To tell him how grateful he was each and every day to have met him. But he could only manage to say one thing. 

“I love you.”

Mountain smiled, clearly knowing everything that those words meant in that moment. “I love you too, firefly. Each and every part of you.” He lowered his head to press a kiss into the softness of Dew’s stomach, his lips as soft as rose petals. He moved further up and pressed more kisses into his skin. Over old scars and new curves. Looking up at the mirror, he saw every so-called imperfection suddenly made perfect. He wondered if this was how Mountain, how everyone in his pack, saw him every day. Mountain worked his way up Dew’s body with his kisses until he reached his face, where he stood up, planted a kiss on the tip of Dew’s nose then backed away.

“Hey!” Dew frowned.

Mountain laughed lightly. “What?”

“You forgot a spot.” Dew pouted and pointed to his lips.

Mountain raised an eyebrow. “You’re still meant to be helping me in the greenhouse today, remember? I can’t just give you your reward for that now.”

Dew somehow managed to pout even more and Mountain rolled his eyes. He bent down and gave Dew a little peck on the lips. 

“A little taster, then. Just for you.”

Dew laughed and shook his head “I guess that will have to last me all day.” He threw on a shirt and quickly brushed his hair before putting it up in a ponytail. As he turned to leave, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror again. This time he smiled. Only a small one, but it was a smile nonetheless. 

The fire ghoul looked up at Mountain’s reflection in the mirror. “Hey Mount?”

“Yes?”

Dew turned around. “Thank you.” Mountain crossed the room and cradled Dew’s face with a large, warm hand. “Thank you for letting me love you as much as you let me.”

[lostmyremembrall]

📖

love the way you write the prompts <3 may i request prompt 18 ??

📖𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐭

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐻𝑢𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑟, 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑇𝑜𝑚 𝐵𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝐺𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑦 𝐴𝑠𝑠 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐽𝑜𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 1𝐾 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡! Now closed

A/N: Oh my god. I am SO sorry it took this long to get to yours. Please forgive me, and I hope you'll still enjoy this.

You surprise Tom with a cat

Tom’s eyes widened at the sight that awaited him. Four tiny paws. A ball of brown fur. Large two ears. The tiny creature stared up at him, and bared its teeth as it meowed. Tom couldn’t help but jerk his head backwards 

“There he is!”

The enthusiastic voice of Abraxas greeted him when the resident Dark Lord peeked his head in through the doors of the Room of Requirement. His cautious eyes flickered around the room, reminiscent of an uneasy salamander that dared to poke its head out from underneath a rock to survey his surroundings.

“Let’s get this over with,” Tom sighed as he walked towards them, completely ignoring the birthday decorations that you, Abraxas, and Canopus had spent hours putting up.

“Of course. We won’t dare take up your valuable time any more than necessary,” Canopus responded somewhat sarcastically, approaching Tom and reaching up to put the cone hat that read ‘Birthday Boy’ on top of the disgruntled man’s head, knowing full well that he detested it. You might as well say that, for Canopus, seeing Tom in this humiliating hat was the only redeeming aspect of hosting this birthday party. 

“You never fail to make my day, Canopus,” Tom murmured quietly, his eyes coldly narrowing on the black-haired Slytherin. You had to admit, despite the comically small ‘Birthday Boy’ hat perched atop the Dark Lord, his seething glare was still enough to send a shiver down your spine.

  “Well, it’s tradition,” Canopus shrugged with a smug smirk on his lips, a brave reaction worthy of praise from a Gryffindor. You had no idea what it was that Canopus had: courage, stupidity, or simply a warped sense of fear. But, whatever it was, you couldn’t help but pity and admire it at the same time.

“So... Presents,” Abraxas clapped his hands excitedly, contently watching as the group sat around the sofas.

“Here, Tom. Happy birthday,” Abraxas beamed at Tom as he passed the wrapped package that was clearly a book from its size and shape.

Tom did not respond and tore open the paper wrapping.

“Oh. Actually… this is quite helpful,” Tom showed the book cover to you and Canopus; the title read ‘Dictatorship 101: A Beginner's Guide to Regime Change by Khalilah D Smith’. “Thank you, Abraxas. For the thoughtful gift,” Tom even managed a slight curl of his lips.

The blond looked quite pleased with himself, turning his nose slightly up in the air with a proud smile.

“Pshhh, as if our great Tom needs any instructions on becoming a dictator,” Canopus rolled his eyes. 

“I, on the other hand, got the only thing Tom needs on his destined path to greatness: Time,” Canopus added an exaggerated flourish to his hands that gestured to the box on the coffee table, ignoring the clear annoyance that flashed across Abraxas’ elegant features.

“You should know, Canopus,” Tom raised a brow as he opened the box. “Your words bring nothing but anxiety to my already troubled mind.”

You peeked in over Tom’s shoulder to find what exactly he meant by ‘time’, as Canopus dramtically worded. To your surprise, it was packets of energy drink powder.

“Ohh… nooo, Canopus…” you murmured quietly, recalling the Dark Lord’s sensitivity to caffeine. The last time he tried one cup of coffee, he stayed up for four nights in a row. “What on earth made you think this was a good idea?”

“Shush shush,” Canopus silenced your words of terror, not even giving you a glance. “Tom, remember the coffee that you had? Imagine that, but double that.”

Tom’s eyes widened in amusement as he glanced at it. “By that logic, I could conquer the wizarding world twice as fast.”

“Exactly my point!” Canopus’ eyes glimmered wildly. “You don’t trust us with a thing. And you’re right to do so. Imagine how much you could get done if you could do everything yourself.”

Tom hummed, nodding along. “You know what, Canopus? For the first time in my life, you did not disappoint.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “You two are just enabling his unhealthy obsession with power!” You grabbed Tom’s shoulders, and he slightly wobbled from left to right as your seething eyes captured Abraxas and Canopus. “What Tom needs is stability. Emotional support.”

The wincing was visible on Tom’s face as you said the word ‘emotional support’, but before he had any opportunity to protest, you presented him with a medium-sized box. Tom was bewildered by the way the box seemed to shake on its own. But still, carefully, he opened the box.

“Oh,” Tom seemed lost for words. “Oh. This is… rather… unexpected.”

“Unexpected? What is it-” but Canopus did not need to finish his question, as a small tabby kitten poked his head out of the box and pressed his paws against Tom’s eyes. 

Tom grew silent.

“You thought giving Tom a cat was a good idea?” Canopus turned his disbelieving eyes to you. “And here you were, telling me gifting energy drinks was irresponsible.”

You scowled at your friend, not noticing the kitten that had begun climbing Tom’s uniform like it was his life mission. “Well, I, as his friend who actually know him, happen to think that an emotionally volatile person like Tom needs a support animal.”

“Emotionally volatile?” Tom repeated to himself quietly, doubting his ears over the words that came from this supposed friend of his. At that moment, Tom was trying to ignore the kitten on his shoulder, who was pressing his paws against his cheek.

You had to admit, Tom was showing a surprising level of patience towards the kitten, a bitter realisation following closely behind that, perhaps, Tom tolerated the kitten more than any of his human friends. The tabby cat began to incessantly meow by Tom’s right ear, demanding his attention.

Abraxas was watching all of this with intrigued amusement in his pale eyes. “Well… let’s just hope that the cat will survive to see adulthood.”

You found the meowing rather adorable, but it was clear that Tom’s patience was quickly wearing thin. Even for kittens, the Dark Lord had his limits, it seemed. “Look, I only speak snake,” Tom barked, turning his head to the right, speaking directly to the kitten with frustration evident in his voice. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

The kitten only responded by pressing his paws on Tom’s lips, perhaps for the first and the last time the Dark Lord was silenced. Either from rage or being overwhelmed by the kitten’s cuteness, Tom’s cheeks turned a bright red. For the sake of the kitten, you hoped it was the latter.

“Oh hey,” Canopus’ eyes widened at the kitten’s bold move. “What do you know? He might just live to see adulthood.”

Tom growled as the kitten began his climb up Mt. Tom again. “How wonderful,” he murmured darkly, his displeased eyes following the kitten’s tail that swung back and forth in front of his face as he made his way up his head. The kitten was now wrestling with the ‘Birthday Boy’ hat, fighting for his spot on top of his head.

“Not so intimidating anymore, are you Tom?” Canopus snickered as his eyes flickered

between the Dark Lord and the cat that had settled comfortably on top of his head.

Tom’s vehement glare from behind the swinging tail was quite the sight to behold. At that moment, for whatever came over its small brain, the kitten leapt off of Tom’s head and landed on Canopus’ face.

“Agh! What’s happening?!” Canopus tried to pull off the kitten while its claws dug into his face. “Get it off me!”

“Yes. Yes!” Tom’s dark chuckle echoed in the Room of Requirement, while Abraxas watched the scene in terror, his hands elegantly covering his gaping mouth. 

You could confidently say, that for the rest of your life, you would never forget the cheerful eyes of Tom when he turned to you and said, “You were right, dear. Emotional support was exactly what I needed.”

A/N: Ended up writing as a sequel of sorts to 𝒟𝒶𝓇𝓀 ℒℴ𝓇𝒹 ℴ𝓃 𝒞𝒶𝒻𝒻ℯ𝒾𝓃ℯ. Not my best writing, but hope you still enjoyed it!

[whatevertheweather]

Hi hello. I miss y'all. That is my own fault but it's still true, and I'm writing this on saturday night and feeling maudlin about how wonderful and talented and dear this fandom is and how I never join in anymore, so I'm making my little post okay.

I'm going with Musical Chairs again because it's so far past time for that to be done. And I've said this before, but it is approaching done. And I'm gonna get into that, but it'll all be behind the scenes rambling, so it's below the cut, and for those who don't want to delve that far, here is some freshly written Penny POV.

“Ah,” Shepard smiled, “a good deed wasn’t motive enough on its own?” “Not when it’s for a stupid reason.” “What is your un-stupid reason?” “Un-stupid?” Penny repeated. She turned resolutely to her drink. “Nevermind. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” “Hey now,” Shepard said, ducking into her line of sight. “You struck me as someone who prefers being honest.” It was a job not to smile at that, but Penny put the work in.

Now for the mess.

It's a good mess I think. I have a new section in my miscellany document, tucked in between nine (9) sections of ramblings and cut scenes, and the new section is called "we got it this time boys," and I think it's right. I've written a full draft of the scene that's been holding us all back. It's there in its entirety, it just needs to be edited. And I'm so scared to reread it, because every time I think I got this scene right I come back and it's wrong. Which I've decided to be fine with, because so what!!! So what if I got 36k right and there's 5k that doesn't quite hit the way I want it to!!! The earth will keep spinning!!!

Anyway, "we got it this time boys" is 3 pages of what is technically kind of an outline for 5 pages of story, and every time I read the header it's in the voice of someone from some black-and-white hardboiled detective noir, which brings me the joy that might be the only reason I feel I've gotten it right in the first place. The outline is all written about as cohesively as it starts:

I think maybe, and gosh haven’t I said this a million times, I just need to stop trying to go that way. Stop trying to go any way. Like always “how do I get them to this moment” instead of “what would they do in this situation.” Unfortunately, the latter requires I connect with them on a level I’m not sure I can right now. But I guess let’s try. Actually let’s go for a walk, I can see the sun setting on the top of the house across the way and it’s lovely. Okay nice, it was lovely. Relaxing, refreshing. Saw a stump that looked like a beaver. Saw a cat. Thought of the opening to something I’m never going to write. So anyway,

It also sort of ends with:

Oh shit came up on an obstacle immediately. [Redacted]. This does not actually open the door for Baz to say something that can incite “[Redacted].” Fuck god okay whoops already going completely back on all I’ve decided and thinking maybe we could keep some of the new exchange I’d written, maybe he does reveal the ugh no stop I hate this. Just figure out a transition to bring in [...], what would Baz say to that other than what I’ve written him saying to that which doesn’t work for what I’m trying to do. I guess it could just be, like…he murmurs incorrigible. Or something. With a raised brow, a la baz. Sure let’s do that, however, I’ve laid down to do this and learned I’m actually quite sleepy, so let’s do it another time. Hopefully I don’t come up on another immediate problem and despair. Just remember not to start combining things and rereading things yet, okay. Please.

This would be alarming if I hadn't already gotten past this point and written the thing. So I'm going to go into editing it with the mindset that nothing substantial shall change and boohoo to me if I want it to, and once that's done we're pretty much home free.

Now tags.

Gonna dip a toe back into being melancholy and wistful about this fandom k, I really do miss it even though I'm the only one keeping me out. You're all my friends even if that is a surprise for you to hear because we haven't talked in months or maybe ever, but I love each and every one of you x

@fatalfangirl @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @moodandmist @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy

@bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @mooncello @noblecorgi @alexalexinii

@rimeswithpurple @ivelovedhimthroughworse @basiltonbutliketheherb @whogaveyoupermission @facewithoutheart

@martsonmars @iamamythologicalcreature @run-for-chamo-miles @thewholelemon

@forabeatofadrum @youarenevertooold @ileadacharmedlife @monbons

[sorastar6]

David Chiem Protagonist AU- Prologue, part 1

I finally finished something that I was working on for a long time! Yay! This AU is basically going to be a series of fanfics that I write. I may or may not actually finish this and do everything I want, but I sure hope I don't lose any motivation. So, um... Enjoy! I hope this is good!

Have you ever felt like you were stuck in a loop?

That the more things change, the more they stay the exact same? The thought of that is funny, isn’t it? The world is big and new things happen every time, every day.

“All that you have to do is just find new things and new peop-”

Shut it. Just shut your mouth, it’s rude to interrupt others.

Your choices don’t matter, anything you do just doesn’t matter. If everything is just broken at its core, there’s nothing you can do about it. The days will go by, one by one, and your life will just stay miserable as it is.

…

You don’t believe me? Well then, let me just show you. Just look into my life, you’ll see everything you need. Let’s see if you can keep up with that “hopeful” worldview of yours.

I doubt you don’t know who I am, but I'll introduce myself anyway. My name’s David Chiem. I can see that look you’re giving me, I guess you do know who I am after all.

“But David! Your life is incredible! How can you say all of these things? You’re ungratef-”

Shut it. I’m not done.

You could’ve heard about me in several places, but most likely, it was from the Hope’s Peak Academy graduation ceremony that happened a few months ago. Yup, I graduated from Hope’s Peak, amazing, right?

No it isn’t amazing. Not when your talent is something you despise. I’m the former Ultimate Inspirational Speaker. With everything you’re hearing from me, you’re probably doubting that, right? ‘There’s no way that you are the real David Chiem! You sound so pessimisti-’

Hate to it break it to you, but David’s a liar. I AM a liar. I’m 25 years old, I’ve had my career for 5 years, and guess what? Everything is based on lies! Woah, what a twist! A big celebrity is a big liar and is able to make money off of it? That never happened before!

…

That was sarcasm if you were stupid enough to not notice. Open your eyes, people like me are everywhere in this world. Just spitting what people want to hear. And somehow, they are ignorant enough to fall for it. Such stupidity…

People don’t change. And I’m the living proof of it. I hate my fucking job, I hate having to deal with annoying fans, and to top it all off? I was forced into this by someone else! And yet, I don’t do anything to stop this. Why? Simple, I’m a lazy piece of shit. I don’t even have the courage to make a proper meal, imagine having to deal with countless backlash!

Disappointed? Sowwy, don’t care. I don’t have a noble or tragic reason to do what I do. And I bet all of those other Ultimates are all the same. Everything is the same in this damn world, anyone who can’t see it is just plain stupid. There you have it, thanks for coming to my Tedtalk on why this world is hopeless! You can fuck off now. Hate me all you want, then we’ll have something in common. None of you have a reason to stay by my side anymore, goodby███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████

…

Everyone has to pay for their sins one day.

Wake up, David Chiem.

…

That was a strange dream. Even if it was just a dream, it still felt… Odd. It’s not a bad feeling, but it’s not good either. I can’t quite describe it, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Everything from that dream is already escaping my mind, so why bother?

How much time am I going to stay laid down here? I need to get up, I probably have something to do. But my head is killing me, so I want to stay in bed for a few more minutes. Wait, bed? This… Doesn’t feel like my bed. It’s more… Soft? But it still doesn’t feel comfortable like my bed. Maybe I prefer not what’s better, but what’s familiar?

There it goes again, my mind just thinking about random stuff that doesn't matter. I should just get up, but finding the energy to simply open my eyes feels like it will kill me. How pathetic. After some time, I opened them.

I tried adjusting my vision to the lighting of the room. It was dark, very dark. And yet, I could tell that this wasn’t my room.

“Sigh… What did I get myself into this time?”

I sat up on this bed, stretching my limbs until I could hear that satisfying crack. I passed a hand through myself to see the state that I’m in.

No injuries, no blood, but still a mess.

I wasn’t about to tidy myself up. There is a much bigger issue at my hands.

I was just barely able to stand up, my body getting the desire to succumb to this tiredness. But I pressed on to the door. I placed my hand on the knob, looking back at the dark room behind me. Maybe staying here and resting would be a good idea, but that also could lead to me getting chained to a wall. Fuck, second guessing, I hate it.

I just looked straight into the door, knowing very well that if I just glanced at that bed, I would just throw myself in it. So, I took a deep breath.

…

And I opened the door.

And I was immediately pushed down to the ground.

“Ow! What the-”

I couldn’t even finish my sentence before my gaze met a familiar pair of sharp red eyes. Eyes that… looked like it belonged to a cat.

“… D-david?”

“… Nico…?”

[thevoidisvoid]

Writing this because Sexy Dragon Man needs more love.

Adamai x Reader

Also cross-posted on Ao3, along with my NSFW works.

"Will you marry me?"

"What?"

You loved the rain. The way that it cleansed the air sending a fresh scent of pure earthy smells around you.

It was different here, then it had been on earth. Much more calming and relaxing despite all the evil in the World of Twelve. It was times like this that you didn't regret coming back.

Not that you had any control over that.

You'd built your cottage on the edge of the Sadida Kingdom, close enough where you could return in emergency situations, but far enough you remained undisturbed….

For the most part.

You finish the final touches on your painting, enjoying how easy it came to you now. It was simple here, and it was exactly what you needed. 

“______.”

You jump up immediately spinning around before breaking into a soft grin.

“Adamai.”

You hug him tightly, dragging him down slightly to your height. (Not that you were short of course, but he was so ridiculously tall.)

“I missed you.”

You stand there for a good while, enjoying his touch. It felt so good to be alive right now, that it brushed your anxieties away. His tail wraps loosely around your leg as he pulls away slightly to drag you into a kiss.

Everything was perfect.

You hum as a clawed hand comes up to hold your face, and you can't help but lean into his touch. You couldn't ask for anything better, this was all you need.

A few more long moments passed before he let you go. His tail still wrapped protectively around you. 

“I see you've been painting again.”

He sounds amused as he grasps your hands, inspecting the ink and paint splattered up your hands and arms. 

“Yes, and I think this is my best one yet.”

You sit back down on your stool, enjoying how he moved to cradle your body in his arms. You lean back against his chest. You're rewarded by a quiet purr, and his head resting on top of yours.

You both watch the rain fall from the view of your balcony. You didn't think this could get any better.

“We should get married.”

It takes you a moment to process what he said. And it was startling to realize what he had said, when you fully registered it.

“What?”

It's his turn to hum, his tail twisting a little tighter around your leg.

“I know you heard me.”

“Adamai, I thought you…”

You look downward, face ablaze at your shock and surprise. You now knew that you'd made an assumption about him, and had just been proven wrong.

“Thought I what..?”

His voice has a teasing tone as he looks down at you.

“I thought that you didn't want marriage or something…because you're a dragon..?”

There's no way you can't make that sound any better, and to your relief he laughs.

“Just because I disprove many of the traditions people have, doesn't mean I reject them all.”

That…made sense actually.

“I guess I just don't see you as the marriage type.”

“Oh really?”

His voice still has a teasing tone to it, and you stifle a giggle as his claws brush your side. 

“Does this mean no then?”

“No!”

You slap a hand over your mouth at that, cheeks flushed at your sudden outburst.

“I mean, ahem, no. I didn't mean it to come out like that.”

“What's your answer then?”

You don't miss how his tail pauses in its gentle movement, and how he remains silent. His whole body tense as he waits for your response.”

“Yes.”

Immediately all tension flees him, and he buries his face into your shoulder. 

“Good.”

You roll your eyes at his response, glad that he can't see how red your face is. He was stupid and prideful sometimes.

But he was your stupid dragon. And in that moment, it was all you needed.

[we-are-maladaptive]

so there's a piece of writing ive been working on and I don't know if its good enough for a full series or not, so I'll put it here and let you guys decide on what you think!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Feel free to send me an ask and I’ll write it for you! Remeber to check the rules first.

⋆୨♡୧⋆Bakugo Katsuki x Reader⋆୨♡୧⋆

The most notorious circus and entertainment show in all of Japan. Known for their overly-wild and downright dangerous performances. What makes them so special, though, is that all of the members who perform.. are quirkless. Proving that even without a quirk, that they are talented individuals with power, a very inspiring motive I'd say.

A good amount of people, though, crave one thing at this circus. The main lady. She is the bravest of them all, pulling some of the most dangerous stunts out there, such fire and passion in her work.Katsuki shouldn't have come to this stupid show. I mean, what's so special about a little measly tricks here n' there? Near the end of the performance, he was a bit surprised by some of the dangerous stunts that went on, but still a little grumpy.

They were now in the large fairgrounds area, a few blocks away from the main attraction of the fair, "The Quirkless". The large tent was peeking above all the visible rides and attractions, it was a very large tent.

"I still don't fucking get why you felt the need to bring me here." His voice was gruff and harsh, and it's not hard to tell who it comes from.

Katsuki Bakugou was now in his mid 20s, and was clearly starting to tone down a bit from his hot-headed teen years. It was still there, though. It would be there for the rest of his life, but not as bad as it used to be.

"Dude, we just thought you could use a break. You're way higher in the rankings then us, so your work is totally more packed than ours. It wouldn't hurt if you took a breather." Eijiro was right, he DID work a lot compared to what he was used to these past few months. Crimes and accidents were at a pretty drastic high, but.. a circus? There were many things his friends knew he had an interest in, and the circus was certainly not one of them. In fact, he had never been to a circus before.

Rather enticing music made Katsuki snap out of whatever daze he was in, and he and his 2 friends quickly started to see the gold glowing letters at the top on the circus tent entrance. Plenty of yelling and shouting could be heard from the inside.

"Yeah man, don't worry though." Denki was the one talking this time.  "This circus is like.. the best in the country, no, the whole world! Especially the main lad-" He was cut off quickly.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. I don't really care, if it can take my mind off work for a few hours then I guess it'd be worth it... say. Is alcohol allowed here?" "I mean it's a young adults and adult only show, so I wouldn't be surprised if I saw booze in here." Denki proclaimed. "I even got my own!"

"Try not to wave it around, Denki. We just got here, do you wanna risk being kicked out?" At Least Eijiro was a bit smarter than Denki.  "Oh... right. Anyways, I'll need A LOT of booze when I see the main lady!" Katsuki's ears perked up a bit at that.

"Oh? Who the hell's that supposed to be?"

Ejiro spoke before Denki was able to get the words out of his mouth, who knows what he would say.

"The main lady is what a lot of people look forward to when coming here. She's the one who does alot of solo dangerous performances. Of course there are more, but, let's just say she's.. very passionate and.. attractive."  

Katsuki immediately felt his eyes roll, they were so hyped up over this show.. for a woman?

"That sounds stupid."

"It's really not! I think the motive of this show is very inspiring, I have been here before, it's so cool!" Eijiro nodded along at Denki's words. "Trust us."

Katsuki had no choice but to follow along. Not that he'd admit it, but a bunch of quirkless people putting together dangerous acts was a rather brave move. He was actually quite interested.

When they walked inside, Katsuki seemed rather surprised at how big the tent actually was. This was only the entryway before they got to the seating areas. Thousands of people were scattered around the large tent, with more to come since Eijiro begged to be at least a little bit early for good seating.

                                                         ...

The show was going to begin soon. By now, Katsuki and his friends had sat in their seats, and had gotten their selected beverages and food.

"God... when is the show gonna start?? This is really starting to piss me off-"  "LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! WELCOME TO OUR SHOW. WE ASK ALL AUDIENCE TO KEEP A SAFE DISTANCE AWAY FROM STAGE TO PREVENT ANY ACCIDENTS. NOW, WE PRESENT TO YOU, THE MOST NOTORIOUS ENTERTAINMENT GROUP OF THE COUNTRY.. THE QUIRKLESS!"

[beesmygod]

today is webcomics day. i am bea and i make "A Ghost Story" - part 3: sketch 1

ed note from the future: this got long. its going mostly under a readmore for everyone's sake. and i didnt even finish sketching, just trying to explain what is going through my mind while trying to sketch. look, if i write down my process in exhausting detail people will realize im completely insane. this is a net benefit to anyone trying to interact with me in the future who thinks i can be reasoned with. community service. thank you for allowing me to post this shit lol

hmmm. giving up on the first few panels for right now. here's what i'm thinking about as i sketch this:

too many of my panels were talking heads or constantly relied on one point perspective. i have been trying to work against this for a while with mixed results. sometimes the result is so bad i have to scrap what i did and start over but sometimes it's "good enough for TV"* and i hit publish on it. no risks, no reward after all. can't get better if you don't try.

in this first panel, i have two people having a back and forth conversation through a weird magic hole in the floor/wall. maxine is laying on a couch with hole right above her head. homestar runner will demonstrate what i mean:

however, there are logistical problems with maxine that homestar runner doesnt have. maxine's right shoulder is dislocated, so she can't lay on that side, or any side that would put pressure on the joint. im realizing i don't actually know what position would be most comfortable in her situation or how she would instinctually arrange her body to avoid pain. i start looking up videos from physical therapists on how they recommend patients sleep for some ideas.

also i start looking up what women look like sleeping on couches. how does the human body fold up. because this isn't it.

anyway, this was my first effort with the first panels.

for reference, the last page ends like this:

the top left of the sketch would have been the hopi clown back on the shelf with the "camera" tilting above it to reveal maxine. while this keeps the relevant object from the previous page in frame as a piece of connective tissue between updates....i'm struggling to fit the second character in. the one talking from the hole. maybe there's still hope for this? it's not terrible. initially i nuked it but maybe i can make this work.

fuck! she needs a pillow or two to make this work. this video is right, that DOES look naturally comfortable compared to the standard fetal position that would pull the affected shoulder inward. i didn't draw any pillows into the stupid establishing shot of the office bc its not the kind of couch you are expected to sleep on!!! this is a man's business office!!! i thought i was so smart!!

basically every couch comes with decorative pillows though, and the shot of the room didn't include the wall the "camera" was up against. my 2-point perspective failure might have paid off here lol. if i can establish that the second character is talking through the hole, he can use his rayman hands to reach across the room and get the pillow for her. it can be part of his personal campaign to show maxine he means her no immediate harm. the pillows were just out of frame. lurking. ok let's try it again. uhhhh after i eat some lunch

---

*my friend kelly had an anecdote from working in animation that im going to retell badly from memory. her boss would take the work she labored over to meet by deadline and would laugh at it, saying "ah, its terrible! but good enough for TV". and while extremely mean, he had a salient point: it never has to be perfect. it just needs to be good enough to be seen. sometimes i seriously think about this anecdote when im dissatisfied with my own art. it's bad. but it's good enough for tv.

[astrobei]

byler 22 for the touch prompts??

22 for touch prompts: falling asleep on the other's shoulder (+ bonus mini soundtrack that i listened to on repeat while writing this)

“Remind me again,” Mike says, as Will climbs into the passenger side of the car, “why we have to go to this thing today?”

Will gives him a look. Or his best attempt at a look anyway. He’s ninety percent sure they fall too flat to ever be effective, or Mike would have stopped saying stupid shit years ago. “This thing?” He struggles with the seatbelt for a moment before it finally clicks into place. “You mean your sister’s wedding? To my brother?”

Mike pulls a face. “If you want to get into the semantics,” he mumbles, adjusting the rearview mirror, and Will laughs.

“You’re ridiculous. It’s their wedding, Mike.”

“Rude to get married on a Saturday night,” Mike says, as if every wedding in the history of the world ever hasn’t taken place on a Saturday night. “Maybe some of us had things to do.”

“Yeah? What did you have going on?” Will asks, smoothing down the lapel of his suit. This jacket is a lint magnet like nothing he’s ever seen before, and he plucks a little piece of it away. “Hot date?”

Mike wiggles his eyebrows, and Will realizes immediately that this was the wrong thing to say. “Yeah,” Mike chirps, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “You.”

Despite himself, Will feels his cheeks turn red. It’s stupid, because he quite literally handed Mike the opportunity to say this on a silver platter, and it’s more dumb than any sort of flirtatious, except the unfortunate truth of dating Mike Wheeler is that he doesn’t even have to try and actually flirt to get Will blushing like a teenage girl. “I had that coming,” he admits, and Mike grins even harder than before. “And we didn’t have a date tonight.”

“We did! We were going to–”

“We can order pizza and watch TV when we get back, Mike,” Will chides, and, when Mike’s lower lip turns downward in something reminiscent of a pout, “this is Nancy’s wedding.”

“I was never Nancy’s favorite sibling,” Mike says noncommittally, releasing the parking brake, “she won’t even notice if I’m not there,” which one, is not true because Mike makes up about a third of Nancy’s bridal party so she will most definitely notice if he goes AWOL. And second, this is also not true because Will knows that Holly is currently in the throes of teenage angst, and Mike is still working on the angst but he’s moved on from the teenager part, at least, which is definitely earning him some points in Nancy’s book. So at worst, he’s tied with Holly. At least for the next couple of years.

And Will knows he’s not being serious anyway. For all of the fuss he’s kicking up, he knows Mike is happy for them. Will checks the backseat to make sure he put the presents in the car earlier that afternoon, and says, laughing, “Cold feet? It’s not even your wedding, Mike.”

“I know,” Mike moans, falling forward until his forehead hits the top of the steering wheel. “And it’s exciting! I’m happy for them! And your brother too, and I know your mom and Hop are so pumped, and– it’s just that I’m not so pumped about spending the evening with my family.”

Will suddenly feels very, very stupid. Jesus, he hadn’t even thought about that– about Mike’s parents being there, and his nana, the one that his mom had totally guilted Nancy into inviting because she might not live long enough to see Mike and Holly get married, Nancy, just let her have this. Which was kind of a depressing enough thought on its own, Will thinks, even without the entire conversation that had followed, the one he’d overheard Mike have on the phone in the living room, loud and frustrated before he’d slammed the phone down on the receiver hard enough for Will to hear it from their bedroom.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, then rests a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Don’t listen to them, okay, Mike? Just– hang out with us instead. I know Dustin’s been dying to break out his new dance moves.”

Mike cracks a tentative smile, then turns his face slightly so that one side of it is illuminated by the glow of the street lamps outside. “I’m scared he’s going to get driven away in a stretcher,” Mike admits, and Will grins. 

“Yeah, probably. It’ll be a good distraction, at least. I’ll tell him to take one for the team.”

Mike nods once, but he doesn’t look convinced. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Will hesitates, then drops his hand to Mike’s and slots their fingers together. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Look at me.”

Mike looks up the rest of the way. He looks incredible tonight, which is something Will’s been thinking ever since they’d started getting ready an hour ago, and at least half of the reason it took him so long was because he’d been totally distracted the whole time. Maybe Will is just biased, which is a little true, sure, but Mike should definitely wear suits more– and he’s officially taking it upon himself to make sure that Mike wears suits more– because suddenly he’s tempted to take Mike up on his offer of becoming a runaway best man and going back inside and collapsing on the couch and kissing him stupid into the early hours of the morning.

“What?” Mike is saying, eyebrows twisting a little self-consciously. “You’re looking at me funny.”

“You just look really nice,” Will says simply, and then, because that comes nowhere close to how good Mike looks in a tie, “no, actually, you look– wow.”

Mike’s lips twitch, but he looks a little pleased. “Wow? Really?”

“You’ve rendered me speechless,” Will nods rapidly, and Mike’s shy smile breaks into something more genuine. “You– look at you, I mean– I can’t even– wow.”

“Will,” Mike says, drawing out the single syllable until it feels big enough to fill up the whole car. “Okay, I look nice! You can stop playing it up now.” 

His cheeks are turning red, slowly, visible even in the dim lighting of the street lamps through the windows, because it’s early fall and it’s started to get dark ridiculously early in the day. It feels like a victory, getting Mike flustered, even after a year of dating. Will smiles to himself. 

“I’m not,” Will says, then leans in across the console. “Come here. I’ll prove it.”

“You’ll–” Mike gets out, eyes going wide in surprise, “–has anyone ever told you that you’re–”

Whatever it was that people may or may not have told Will is apparently a mystery that will die with the universe, because Will never finds out. He kisses Mike with one hand still holding his, threads a hand through his hair and cups his jaw. Soft. Slow. Unhurried, even though they should have left ten minutes ago and they’re going to be cutting it real close– Will can’t be bothered to rush.

Mike hums low in the back of his throat, pleased, and shifts closer. He’s pushing himself up over the console, a hand ghosting the side of Will’s neck, when–

Beeeeep.

“What–” Will jerks backwards, startled, and Mike immediately lets go of his hand. “Did you just–”

Mike rubs his elbow and moves further away from the wheel. “I got a little distracted,” he laughs, but the tension has ebbed from his shoulders a little and his eyes are creasing up at the corners, so Will considers this a mission success, thank you. “We should probably go?”

“Good idea,” Will says, then reaches over to smooth out a stray tuft of Mike’s hair that was– he thinks, a little proud of himself– definitely not out of place before. “And hey,” he adds, before Mike can take the car out of park. “Seriously. Ignore your parents. It’s not their wedding, okay, it’s Nancy’s. And Jonathan’s. And they both want us there. Together.”

Mike’s lips press together into a thin, determined line. “You’re right,” he nods, “I know, it’s just–”

“I know,” Will echoes, and Mike shoots him a grateful smile. “Now let’s go, or we really will miss the ceremony.”

—-

They don’t miss the ceremony, which is good, because having both the best man and the– whatever Mike was– would probably not be a good look for anyone involved.

“I can’t believe you cried,” Dustin says, after the toasts are done and the speeches are given and everyone’s been supplied with enough champagne to go a little loose and maybe a little tear-happy.

Mike scowls across the table at him. “I didn’t cry,” he insists, which is kind of pointless because Will had been watching him the whole time he’d been standing up there, shuffling his feet awkwardly in place at his designated spot in between Holly and Robin Buckley, and he’d definitely cried. Just a little, but he had.

“You did,” El chimes in primly, plucking at her shrimp cocktail. “I saw.”

“Thanks, El,” Mike mutters, sinking back in his chair a little and crossing his arms. “It’s– the vows were very emotional, okay, you’d have to be made of total stone to not tear up!”

“I didn’t cry,” Lucas announces, which is a fucking lie, by the way. Will saw him dabbing at his eyes in the bathroom on the way here.

“I think it’s sweet,” he says, instead of throwing Lucas to the dogs like he maybe should have. He flashes Mike a grin, leans over in his chair to bridge the space between them and squeezes his hand, once. “They were very sappy vows, to be fair.”

Mike blinks up at him from where he’s slumped down to somewhere around shoulder height. “You didn’t cry.”

“Oh, I did,” Will assures him. “I just cried in the back with Jonathan while he was getting ready.”

“Really?” Mike perks right up. “You did?”

“Yes,” Will laughs, “and I can’t believe you’re happy about it,” and then Mike grins so wide that Will can’t help but lean in the rest of the way and press a quick kiss to Mike’s cheek.

“You two are disgusting,” Lucas says, and he’s maybe one strike away from Will speaking up about the bathroom incident after all.

“Maybe so,” Mike relents, looking properly cheered up now. “What about it?”

Mike’s grip on Will’s hand never falters. Will feels himself turn warmer with every slow pass of Mike’s thumb over his knuckles, even with their hands tucked under the tablecloth and out of view. And it isn’t from the champagne. He’s had just the one glass with dinner, which is nothing, so it must be something else that’s making him feel like this. Something–

“You okay?” Mike murmurs as his thumb pauses, briefly, on the back of Will’s hand. “You got kind of quiet out of nowhere,” and yeah, there it is.

“I meant it,” Will says, lowering his voice so their friends can’t hear them from across the table. “What I said in the car, I mean. You look beautiful.”

It’s a little amusing just how fast Mike can turn such a violent shade of red. “You can’t just say that,” he splutters. “Give a guy some warning, Jesus, Will–”

“Mm, no,” Will decides smugly, watching the red creep down the collar of Mike’s carefully starched dress shirt. Then, because the soft lighting of the venue and the way Mike’s hair has started to fall free around his face is doing something funny to his chest and stomach, Will nods to the dance floor and says, “You wanna?”

Mike hesitates, looking over his shoulder. “Dance?”

Will shrugs, then looks over to where Jonathan and Nancy are trying– and failing, quite hilariously and miserably– at a dance of their own. “I mean, it’s a wedding, and people dance at weddings. Not that either of us are good at it, but it might be fun to try?”

Mike chews nervously at his lower lip and nudges Will’s foot with his own. “I don’t know,” he admits. “My mom was eyeing me earlier and I was totally avoiding her by hiding out over here but I feel like the dance floor is fair game for a–” he waves his hands around, “pseudo-confrontation. Nancy’s only three years older than you, blah, blah. When are you going to settle down, blah, blah. Even though I’m here with my boyfriend, which apparently doesn’t count for shit, and–” Mike sighs dejectedly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down, it’s just– I was having such a good day, too.”

Will squeezes Mike’s leg, just above the knee. “You were having a good day? Really? Even though your hot date got canceled?”

“Well,” Mike rolls his eyes. “My sister got married, and now my hot date is all dressed up and sweet-talking me, so I think this is even better than pizza on the couch.” He pauses, contemplating. “Actually, scratch that. It’s not. But it’s a close second,” Mike adds, then grins and picks Will’s hand up again. “Dance– later, maybe? I’m really enjoying this for right now.”

“Of course. Anything you want,” Will smiles, as the music in the background softens into something more mellow. He pulls his chair up so that it’s flush with Mike’s, their thighs pressed up together in one line, and passes Mike a flute of champagne from the table. “You might want to drink this, though, because your mom looks like she might be heading over here any second.”

“Thanks,” Mike groans, then knocks the whole thing back in one go.

—-

Will knows that a big fancy flashy wedding isn’t really Jonathan’s style, and he didn’t think it was Nancy’s either. Which is why he was surprised to get an invite to an event at all, because he’d honestly sort of thought they’d make a courthouse affair of it and then have everyone over for dinner or something. They’d been engaged for, like, three years, because it was career stuff and then more career stuff and then a couple months of long distance while Jonathan was doing some photojournalism thing in London, and Will had figured at some point that they’d get so tired of being engaged that they’d show up the next day with papers from City Hall and that would be that.

Apparently, though, in a not-so-surprising turn of events, Nancy Wheeler takes to event planning like a moth to flame, and Jonathan was immediately dragged along for the ride. He didn’t seem too upset about it, though, when Will had asked. “It’s Nancy,” he shrugged, like that explained everything. And maybe it did, because not too long after that, Will started dating Mike and everything immediately clicked.

Which is maybe the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to him. For anyone else, Will would not even entertain the thought of fussing over seating arrangements, and he’s certain he only knows, like, five types of flowers– if pink and red roses count as two different types. It’s Nancy, Jonathan had said, and Will hadn’t gotten it then but he does now.

Mike’s hand twitches on Will’s bicep, fingers clutching once at the fabric of his shirt. Will’s suit jacket lies abandoned on the chair behind them. Mike had leaned over maybe half an hour ago to rest his head on Will’s shoulder, as it got later in the night and guests started slowly trickling out of the room. And then, maybe fifteen or so minutes ago, his breathing had evened out, fingers slackening in their grip against his arm, and Will doesn’t know how the hell Mike can fall asleep in a room that’s filled with so much noise, but he can’t help but find it endearing– wholly, completely, embarrassingly endearing.

And he gets it, he does. It’s Mike, he thinks, chest flooding with warmth in a strange, hollowed-out way, like there’s nothing left inside him except this feeling. It’s Mike. It’s Mike. It’s–

“Hey, hon,” comes a voice behind him, and Will startles, just a little, then immediately relaxes.

“Oh, hey mom,” he whispers, and Mike’s hand twitches lightly against his arm again. Joyce gives him an amused look, glancing down at Mike, then back at Will.

“Did he fall asleep?” she asks, pulling up a chair next to them. “I’ll be quiet, don’t worry.”

Will feels himself smile before he actually realizes he’s doing it. “Yeah,” he snorts softly, “but I have no idea how.”

As if roused by some sixth sense, like he knew they were talking about him, Mike stirs, lifting his head off of Will’s shoulder and blinking blearily. “What–”

“Shh,” Will says, and Joyce bites back a smile. “Go back to sleep.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Mike says, and then yawns loud and conspicuously. “Shit– I’ve just been so tired this week, sorry, Will–”

“Don’t be,” he says immediately, even though his shoulder and arm are starting to fall asleep, just a little. Will drops a kiss to the top of Mike’s head, and feels him start to smile into his shoulder before stiffening, a little self-consciously, and glancing up at Joyce.

“Um–”

“Oh,” his mom waves a hand, “don’t mind me. You two are so sweet. You remind me of Nancy and Jonathan after they started dating. Jonathan would turn so red, but maybe not as red as you’re turning right now, Will–”

“Mom!”

“Red?” Mike perks up, and then, “Oh you are turning red!”

“Shut up,” Will mumbles, but he’s sure it’s not convincing in the slightest. “Did you come over here just to embarrass me?”

Joyce puts two hands up in the air like hey, don’t look at me. “I was just going to let you know that Hop and I are taking off,” she says, eyes sparkling. “He has the early shift tomorrow, but Mike, now that I’ve caught you– your speech was wonderful. Really. Jim was tearing up and he told me to never let you find out but I figured you’d want to know.”

Mike blinks. He still looks a little out of it, still a little red from sleep or the champagne from earlier, but he smiles, sudden and pleased. “Really?”

“Don’t tell him I told you,” Joyce grins conspiratorially. “But yes. It was very sweet.”

“Thanks Mrs. Byers,” Mike says, the words stretching into another yawn, quieter this time. He groans lightly, then pushes himself off of Will’s shoulder and sits back up.

Will peers over at him. “Are you tired? You want to head back?”

Mike rubs at his eyes with both hands, blinks a few times in rapid succession, then shakes his head like he’s trying to shake the sleep out of his body, like it’s a physical thing. “No,” he smiles, and it’s a little bit tired, but he looks happy. “No, not yet.”

“Okay,” Will whispers, and he’s probably grinning like an idiot, but he can’t help it. That’s the common denominator here, between every interaction he ever has with Mike– that he’s so happy that he just can’t help it. “You still want to get pizza on the way back?”

“God, yes please,” Mike groans in relief. “Um. No offense, but wedding food is just– like what the hell, man, I’m starving. That was nothing.”

“Pizza it is,” Will agreed easily, mentally making a pros and cons list of getting a large and having leftovers or saving money and going for a medium. “Pepperoni?”

“Anything goes,” Mike is saying, and then Joyce clears her throat.

“Well,” she says, snapping her purse shut and smiling. “Hop and I are heading out but– oh, drive safe you two. Eat a slice for me, actually, I’ve been craving pizza all week.”

“Bye, mom,” Will smiles, craning his neck upwards as she plants a kiss on top of his head.

“You too,” she says to Mike, who barely has time to blink in surprise before his mom is dropping a kiss on his forehead. She rests a hand on his shoulder briefly as she smiles and says, “I’d welcome you to the family, Mike, but you’ve been a part of it for years already.”

“I– bye, Mrs. Byers,” Mike says faintly, eyes wide, as Joyce waves goodbye. He turns back to Will. “Part of the family? Really?”

“It’s what you get for dating your best friend,” Will murmurs, glancing out over the rapidly emptying room before tugging on Mike’s arm until he falls into him with a small, startled noise. “You get smothered by my mom.”

“I wouldn’t call it smothering,” Mike laughs, eyes darting down to Will’s mouth. He swallows, and says, softly, “Plus, I like your family. No complaints from me.”

Will hums, soft. “I’m sorry about– you know. How did that go?”

“Nancy said she survived mom and dad with minimal damage,” Mike laughs drily. “And nana too. And I managed to avoid them long enough that they didn’t have a chance to ambush me, so.”

“Good,” Will says, kissing Mike softly on the corner of his mouth, then again, right over the curve of his cupid’s bow. He’s a little warm, a little loose and pliant from sleep, and he moves easily, tucking a finger into the loop of Will’s tie and pulling him in closer. Their knees bump against each other under the tablecloth, chair legs scraping gently across the polished floor as Will leans forward. “I’m glad,” Will says into the kiss, and Mike smiles.

“Me too,” Mike whispers, tucking his hands into Will’s hair and pulling away, just barely. “Because now they’re gone and all of our annoying cursory invite relatives are gone and it’s just you and me– and Nancy, and Jonathan, and El and Lucas and– whatever. I think I owe you a dance.”

There’s something slow and melodic playing as Nancy and Jonathan make the last of their rounds, most of the tables empty and the dance floor cleared out. Will grins, kisses Mike one more time for good measure, then stands up. “Okay,” he agrees, “but I’m leading.”

“I don’t think it makes a difference, because neither of us can–”

“I’m leading,” Will says again, and Mike chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yeah, sure. Lead the way, Will.”

[sea-creature-things]

Grimwalker things

Chapter 4: Scales, more importantly, shedding

This is my offering to the huntlow shippers. I love those two so much. Writing their crush hell was incredibly fun.

Most people when they see ‘scales of a selkidomus’ they think of boiling water resistance, but I went in a different direction. Have fun lol.

For the next chapter I'm writing about a very popular headcanon about Stonesleepers, its gonna be angsty again :)

Also; TW for blood and description of injury. (It's not graphic but a warning just to be safe)

Read here below the cut or on AO3 with this link:

He remembered thinking it was normal when he was younger. It was just a thing that happened every few months. It was annoying, but not weird, or potentially unsettling to other people.

Until an extremely awkward conversation with Steve.

It was on a mission a few years ago, when he was 14. Hunter was ordered to capture a Snaggleback. The task itself wasn’t hard, but he needed backup for getting it back to the castle. So he’d called in the cavalry, Steve. He was Hunter’s favourite scout, even though he was practically glued to Lilith. Steve was never mean, he never tried to steal credit or gain favours.

On the way back Hunter found out shedding was in fact NOT a normal thing that happened. They were using an airship to easily transport the Snaggleback. His shedding day was very well-timed, he’d been scratching all day and the flight back home was no exception.

“Ugh! I hate it when my scars shed.” Hunter complained as he itched his arm. Steve had been eyeing his scratching for a while, but he hadn’t said anything. Now he turned to him confused.

“What?” The big hollow eyes of Steve’s mask stared directly at Hunter. Who thought he simply hadn’t heard him right.

“The shed. On scars.” Hunter tried to explain, he remembered thinking it was so obvious. “It always feels so weird.”

“Do you mean the scabs?” Steve continued to stare at him, this time Hunter looked at him in confusion. It was suddenly very quiet a thousand feet in the air. Even the Snaggleback had stopped its chittering.

“No?” Afraid that he said something wrong or stupid, Hunter decided to stop talking all together. He even ignored poor Steve when he asked more confused questions.

Since that day, his shedding became something to hide. He tried to find any kind of information about it in books from the healing coven. But that only confirmed that it was unnatural.

At least now he knew why it happened, but he had no idea how it all worked. Maybe the damage to his skin had exposed the Selkidomus scales underneath, or… in between?

He still didn’t fully understand what made him go from lose ingredients, to a fully formed witch-imitation. Maybe the wound had locally deactivated the magic? He didn’t know!

And it didn’t matter, because right now he needed an excuse, not the truth. Since, apparently, he had walked into the kitchen with a bleeding face!

Last night, when he’d gone to bed, the scar on his cheek was itchy. Which probably meant that he ripped his shed while sleeping. He hadn’t even felt the wound, or the blood dripping down his chin. He only noticed after Luz, Camila, Amity and Willow had collectively gasped the moment he walked in.

He was startled and still a little dazed from not being the first one up for a change. Of all the days to start sleeping in. He had actually been sleeping at night recently, for 8 hours even. But this was the first morning that the clock read 6:30 when he woke up. On a week day!

His friends had reassured him time and time again that sleeping in was no big deal. In fact, they wanted him to do it. But he was still nervous when he climbed the stairs that morning. Still, when he reached the top, nobody was impatiently waiting for him. Nobody scolded him or barraged him with an extra long list of demands.

His anxiety seemed to just wash away, and he felt very relaxed walking to the kitchen. He found Luz, Camila, Amity and Willow at the dinner table. They were having a cheerful conversation over breakfast. It was Wednesday so that breakfast consisted of toast and cereal.

He felt completely at ease. They were happy, the room was warm and inviting, the sun shone bright beams through the window. Everything felt just right. But when he walked in, their conversation stopped. They all gasped.

He had stupidly turned to them with a questioning look, like an idiot, a fool!

Amity clasped a hand over her mouth and Camila brought hers to her heart. Willow dropped her spoon in her cereal bowl and Luz pushed away from the table, standing up abruptly.

“What? What’s wrong?” He had asked bewildered. Again, like an idiot. Their looks of pure horror should've been a clue.

“Hunter… you’re bleeding.” Amity was the first to regain her composure. Her voice was laced with fear and her eyes matched it. But she wasn’t making eye-contact, her gaze was locked on his cheek.

“What?” Hunter touched his face in disbelief. Yup, there was definitely warm, sticky blood on his hand. How in the world did he not feel anything? How had he not noticed sooner?

“Oh.”

“OH?!” Luz yelled out mortified, it made him jump a little. Luz’s whole body was rigid with tension, her hands were slammed on the table. She seemed angry, but Hunter knew she was scared by the look in her eyes.

They had no idea what was going on. But… what could he possibly give as explanation?

“This just… happens sometimes.” He said with great difficulty. He hoped his obliviousness of the whole thing helped support his case.

“That doesn’t JUST happen!” Willow shouted even louder than his sister. Her hands gestured wildly above her bowl of cereal. She looked so concerned.

They all looked so worried, he couldn’t stand it.

“It’s fine, I swear!” He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t know how to calm them down. They had rarely seen blood like this. He was freaking them out and he didn’t know what to do!

Hunter rushed over to the sink to wash the blood off his face and hands. He stumbled against the counter and gripped the edge. He could fix this. He had to somehow ease their minds.

The moment he saw the deep red smear on his hand he knew what was happening. And he also knew he could not tell them the truth. Shedding?! Normal people don't shed!

His fingers became fidgety and it took him a few tries to turn on the sink. His heartbeat was already going a million miles a second. His eyes darted all over the place, but he couldn't see Camila out of the corners. Was she still at the table? Did she leave? Was she walking over to him?

Was she worried? Was she angry? And what about Luz, Willow and Amity? They looked so scared.

His hands were shaking and refusing to cooperate. He used to have better hand-eye coordination than this, even when he was injured. The repetitive motion of washing became fumbled. Why wouldn’t it come off?

“Hunter, baby, you are not fine.” Camila said, her voice was gentle but stern. Hunter’s shoulders tensed up. She didn’t sound angry, but he still felt like he couldn’t breathe. At least her voice was distant, which meant she was still at the table.

He hadn’t even registered what she said. He wasn’t ignoring her on purpose! But maybe it was better that way. If he could just get that damn blood of his hands, he could fix his face and everything would be okay again.

“Hunter…” Amity spoke softly. She couldn’t believe what was happening.

"It's not a big deal..." He muttered, he was trying to keep them at bay now. If he could just fix this and show them there was nothing wrong, everything would go back to being peaceful.

"There is blood coming out of your face!” Luz yelled again. She was distraught and frustrated with his attitude. Hunter felt his own frustration rise with how little blood was coming off his hands. He was running out of time.

"I know!” He turned around with desperation, he was trying so hard to calm them down. “But- just trust me, I promise it's normal."

All four of them were still at the dinner table. They had joined Luz in standing up and looked ready to jump into action, but it seemed like they were glued to their places. And Hunter was grateful for it. He could use the kitchen island as a kind of barrier between them.

"Hunter!" Willow said his name like it was supposed to mean something. Like the pure protest she put in saying just his name would make him understand. It didn't. It just made him more nervous.

"That's not normal!" Amity explained. She was right, of course it wasn’t normal. That’s how he’s felt ever since that mission years ago. He knew it wasn’t normal, but-

"It is for me!"

Hunter shut his eyes when he yelled back. He didn’t mean to do it, he didn’t want to. He’s never done that before, not here. He just felt so hopeless.

They all fell silent for a bit, catching their breath. Hunter looked at the ground nervously. The words had burst out in distress, as an attempt to comfort them, but he wasn't ready for what they meant.

Should he just tell them? He could explain it better if they knew- no. No no no, sweet Titan no! This could NOT be their first impression of a Grimwalker. He had to pivot this somehow.

His head shot up to watch their reactions, expecting questioning looks or suspicion. But instead he was met with several intensities of anger. Amity's furious expression was laced with somber understanding. Camila and Luz were sporting a very similar look of rage. But Willow's fiery eyes were definitely the highest level.

“Belos is fucking lucky he’s dead.”

Oh.

Right.

Well, at least he didn’t have to pivot this anymore. They already did it themselves. Hunter wasn’t ready for that implication either. He only felt more uneasy. Even though it was… true.

He turned around again very quickly. The energy in the room had changed, at least he could breathe now.

He heard Camila say something about a first aid kit and someone left the room. Hunter was pretty sure it was her, but he didn’t want to turn around a second time. The blood was finally starting to fade, it didn't used to take this long. Or maybe he never noticed because it wasn't urgent.

Nobody said anything until she came back and he heard her walk over. Hunter steeled himself.

“It doesn’t seem like something normal to me, but we won’t keep pressing you for answers.” Camila spoke softly, putting the kit to the side on the counter. Her presence wasn’t as scary as he expected.

"Thank you." Hunter carefully looked in her eyes, they were full of worry. He nervously looked away again.

Camila slowly reached a hand out towards his shoulder. Hunter did an involuntary step back. Her hand staggered in the air and she let it fall down on the counter. He shut his eyes as shame filled his heart. She was just trying to help!

“And if you need help with this…” Camila paused. She gestured to the first aid and sighed. ”… you only have to ask, okay?”

Hunter was shocked. This experience veterinarian and attentive, caring mother was leaving it to him. She was trusting him to know what to do and do it well. She was giving him exactly what he wanted.

“Okay.”

Camila was truly amazing. But why did she look so sad when she turned away? Why did Luz give her mom such a baffled stare? They didn’t need to worry, he wouldn’t need help. He’s done this a million times before.

Hunter breathed a sigh of relief, he finally felt his heart rate slowing down. He put his head back under the sink. The blood was still not coming off easily, but now he actually could fix it. Everything was going to be okay.

“Hey, let me help you.” Willow suddenly appeared next to him. Hunter glanced up in surprise.

He straightened up when he saw Willow’s face. She had the kind of stubborn look in her eyes that he first saw on the flyer derby field. He wasn’t quite sure what she was feeling right now. Things should be going back to normal, why did she still look so alarmed?

For a second he saw over her head. Amity, Luz and her mom stood a few feet away, in front of the fridge. His sister was hugging her stomach, looking very ill at ease. Amity was rubbing her girlfriend’s back, she shared a worried glance with Camila.

Hunter eyed Willow in confusion. She held the cloth she was holding under the sink. Then she held it up as if to show it to him. When he didn’t say anything she took it as the green light and held it against his damaged cheek. Gently wiping off blood.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her voice so soft and honey-sweet. The motion on the side of his face nearly frictionless. He stared down into her piercing emerald eyes.

Hunter’s brain was silent. It was literally empty up there. Suddenly it exploded back into action and with it his whole face turned hot like fire.

“Uh- YeA- I uhm, I’m okay.” He stammered. He cursed his voice for betraying him.

Willow was unconvinced. She tapped the counter a few times and pouted. The only words that were able to form in Hunter’s mind in that moment were: cute.

The plant witch then decisively tugged a cupboard above her open, taking a big bowl and filling it with water. She put the towel inside and shut the sink off. While holding the bowl in one arm, she took his left hand.

“Come on.” Willow walked passed him and tugged him along. Her grip on his hand wasn’t harsh or demanding, he could slip out easily if he wanted to.

He just didn’t want to.

The feeling was so nice and unexpected. Her soft skin wrapping over his war-torn palm. The determined way she was pulling him along. Before he realised it, she had brought him to the dinner table.

Hunter threw his eyes to the group in front of the fridge, utterly dumbfounded. Luz’s face turned into slight shock before her hand went up to her mouth, failing to hide a smile. Amity followed suit, the corners of her eyes crinkled from her amusement. The fear both girlfriends had was nowhere to be found. Camila also grew a smile, but a much tinier one.

Hunter didn’t feel any less dumbfounded.

“Willow-" Hunter began, his voice didn’t sound nearly as strong as he wanted it to.

“Sit.” She cut him off with a very nice-sounding demand. Pulling out a chair so the back of it was against the table, she pointed at it and looked up at him challengingly.

He turned again to the fridge-group. The girlfriend duo was now sporting full Cheshire Cat smirks. Camila was avoiding eye-contact, her smile slowly growing wider.

Willow set the bowl on the table, wringing the cloth out so it was just damp enough. Then she faced him with one hand on her hip. He searched in her eyes, but saw no way out. So he sat down.

Those forest green eyes, rich and beautiful. They came closer. He felt the heat rise to his face again when she carefully stroked some hair out of the way. His eyes blinked rapidly without permission. She was so close!

Those emerald eyes were brimming with focus. She brought the towel to his cheek again. Incredibly gently she began rubbing the dried blood off. Hunter was almost certain she’d never done this before, but it felt painless.

His heartbeat was accelerating again and his breathing was far from regular. But it was very different from a panic attack. He made slow and tiny breaths, almost like he was scared to breathe. Like expanding his lungs too much would make the moment stop. And his poor excuse of a heart was loud, so loud he was scared she’d hear it, but it wasn’t hysteric. Just loud.

Every time she went away to wash the towel in the bowl, that heart sank to watch her leave. And then it skipped a beat when she put the towel back against his cheek. If that piece of cloth wasn’t there, she would be holding his face in her hand. Hunter’s gulp was unintentional.

Willow’s pretty eyes darted to make contact with his. His heart screamed and begged his brain to come back, but it was gone, turned to mush. He couldn’t look away.

“Sorry if it hurts. I’ll be more careful.” She said and smiled at him. A genuine, sympathetic smile that put dimples in her cheeks.

The boy was too stunned to speak.

He heard giggling from behind him. He hadn’t even noticed that Luz and Amity had moved back to the dinner table. He couldn’t see them anymore, but their presence was palpable. Hunter didn’t know if his face could become any redder. A few shades darker and Willow wouldn’t be able to distinguish his skin from the blood.

A hair strand fell down into her workspace and Willow tucked it behind his ear. Her fingers grazing his temple, creating a tingling feeling on his skin. But the strand fell back down again.

“Can you hold your hair back?” She asked pointing at the now multiple strands clinging to the freshly cleaned side of his face. Willow moved back to the bowl to do the whole rinse again. He still watched her eyes in a trance. When she heard no answer, Willow glanced back up confused and expecting. “Hunter?”

“Huh?” Finally, his brain had returned and his entire body rejoiced. It bursted back to life, or at least back into talking. “Oh! Yes. I can do that.”

Another round of giggling erupted behind him. Hunter’s fiery blush had spread to the tips of his ears. He tried to combat the burning with his much colder hands while smoothing his hair.

“Here Hunter, you can borrow my hair tie.” Luz said. He turned around to find his sister and her girlfriend cuddled against each other. Their chairs pushed close together.

Amity was resting her head against Luz’s collarbone as she hugged her around the waist. Luz had one arm over her shoulders, while waiving the hair tie around with the other. Both of them had that Cheshire smile again. Or rather, still had it.

Hunter glared at them, but he knew there was zero ground to stand on. He just accepted the offer and quickly turned back around. Resulting in another laugh from those two.

His only saving grace right now was knowing Vee and Gus weren’t here to witness this mess. The blood, the panic or… this. Hunter thanked the Titan for that.

Wait, where was Camila? Hunter searched the kitchen and found the Dominican mother in front of the stove. He couldn’t quite see what she was making. Maybe her lunch for work? She seemed relaxed and he was happy she hadn’t left yet.

Okay. Focus. Hair, bun. He could do this.

His jittery fingers complied, Hunter was so glad his brain was back. He popped the hair tie in his mouth as he pulled back his hair. It had gotten pretty long, so the girls taught him how to make a bun.

When he was done he nervously looked at Willow again. She’d been patiently waiting with the rinsed out towel and smiled when they made eye contact. His make-shift heart thundered against his chest.

She got close again and continued wiping his cheek, somehow more gently than before. Now that his brain wasn’t a melted pile of mush, his thoughts were going a million miles per second.

He thought about how close she was. He thought about the complete switch that the morning had made because of her. He thought her cheeks looked more pink than before, but he must’ve imagined it.

Hunter thought she was so gentle and kind. And she cared so much about her friends and family. Hunter knew that he was apart of that too, but now he felt it.

And the feeling was incredibly strong.

Her eyes became too much. He lowered his gaze, focusing on his hands in his lap. There were still some crusted blood smears left on them. He picked at them. Out of sight, Willow hummed as if she was deliberating something important.

"Look up." She instructed, her sugary voice still made demands sound nice. For a second, he thought that she wanted him to look into her eyes, but that was crazy. She was staring very intently at his neck. The blood had probably trailed down on it. He did as he was told without really thinking about it.

Wow, he’s never trusted anyone with his neck before. Wow, that's a weird thought to have.

She went to rinse the cloth out once more, then started cleaning under his jaw and down his neck. Her touch still so soft. Judging from the feeling, Hunter could tell the blood trail reached just above his clavicle.

His heartbeat had quieted just a little bit and Hunter found himself staring at her eyes again. Her gorgeous emerald eyes, they weren’t showing any pity. Just care. And a bit of concern. He had no idea how bad it all looked, he didn’t get a chance to find a mirror in the mayhem.

He could feel her try out a slightly harsher scrub, which he was fine with. His neck didn’t have an open wound. He’d probably do it even harder himself.

He never cared about scraping or scratching his skin, he just wanted the blood gone. Willow wasn’t used to that, and he hoped she never would be.

Just thinking about every time he’d done this alone was making him itchy. Or maybe those were just the other scars that still need to shed. He scratched one on his upper leg, through his sweatpants. Yup, it was definitely the scars. He’ll have to be more careful with the rest, so they wouldn’t bleed.

Titan, he was so weird!

“Alright! Almost done.” Willow beamed at him, dragging him out of his thoughts. She wore a proud smile, giving her those cute dimples.

Hunter’s blush burned hot as he automatically smiled back. A pretty shaky smile at that. Part of him was relieved that Willow didn’t have to take care of him anymore. But a small part of him never wanted this moment to end.

“Just have to wipe this a few more times.” She said as she held the cloth against his face again. Her gentle touch made his heart skip another beat. If it were real, he’d be concerned about how many it had missed.

“I think the wound is pretty shallow.” She wiped once over his scar and stared at it closely. It took him some effort not to shrink away. “And it doesn't look like it’s bleeding very fast."

“Good.” Hunter said, giving in to the reflex for personal space. His poor, fake heart couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up and finally breathed normally. His face had been on scorching hot overdrive for way too long.

Willow took the first aid kit from the table. When had that gotten there? She opened in and searched through the items. He watched her awkwardly. He wanted to thank her, but he wasn’t sure how.

“Uhh I don’t really know how this works though.” She said apologetically. Taking out Azura themed Band-aids and trauma scissors, supporting her claim. Willow chuckled at her items and Hunter couldn’t help but smile.

She put everything back and held the kit out to him. As he took it, his brain screamed at him.

“Thank you!” He blurted out, a little too loud. He clumsily pointed at his face. “F-for everything.”

“You’re welcome!” Willow smiled so brightly she could’ve just as easily been the sun.

Hunter sifted through the first aid kit, laying the things he could use out on the table. Disinfectant wipes, dressing, gauze and tape. Oh yeah, this’ll do nicely. As should be expected in the house of a vet, Camila was very keen on their health.

He’d have to use disinfect it first. Hunter absolutely hated this step, but it was necessary. He wiped down to remove any new blood and as expected it hurt like hell. He hissed through his teeth and balled his fist, trying his best to suppress the reaction.

“Are you sure you’re okay? It looks painful…” Willow said, noticing it anyways. She was about to sit down next to Amity, but paused when she heard him.

“What? Pffft no! I’m fine!” Hunter laughed awkwardly. Her eyes squinted and he knew she didn’t believe him. His wonky smile probably wasn’t helping either. He coughed a few times to get a grip on his voice. “Don’t worry. This is supposed to hurt.”

Willow crossed her arms. Why was she so hard to convince?

“He’s not wrong,” Luz said, forever his saviour. “How are you gonna bandage your head anyways?”

“Are we getting mummy-Hunter today?” Amity laughed. Their amusement seemed to convince Willow to take her seat.

“Ha-ha,” Hunter rolled his eyes, “that’s not necessary.”

He threw the dirty wipe away and turned to Luz. He was eager to actually teach her something. He could give her useful knowledge. Of course, he hoped she’d never have to do it.

“First, you put a 4x4 dressing over the wound.” Hunter opened one of the packets. And draped it over his face, making sure to only touch the edges. He could see Luz’s smile growing and before she could make a joke about sauce, he explained further. “Dressing is a sterile piece of gauze that helps to stop the bleeding.”

Luz closed her mouth in disappointment, but she still seemed intrigued about his process. A tiny feeling of pride filled his heart, which he knew shouldn’t be there, but he couldn’t help it.

“Then, you put a strip of normal gauze on top of it.” Hunter continued, taking said gauze and cutting about 6 inches off. He also took the tape and ripped a few pieces off with his teeth.

“Like this.” He let muscle memory take control as he taped the gauze just below his eye. He pulled it taught and taped the other end on the underside of his jaw. He repeated the process for a second strip, just for good measure. He secured it all with two more pieces of tape on the vertical sides.

“Tada!” Hunter did jazz-hands, which he regretted instantly. He dropped his arms awkwardly and put all the first aid stuff back in the kit.

“Huh, it’s like a makeshift giant band-aid.” Luz said amazed. Amity, who was still cuddling close to her, hummed in agreement.

“Exactly.” He smiling as much as he could with that band-aid so close to his mouth. “Once it’s closed, you can leave it exposed to air. No need to exchange the bandages.”

“Oh cool.” She was impressed, though still a little uncomfortable. He understood his knowledge had… implications. But he’d rather her know how and not need to use it, than not know how when she needed it.

Well, he’d rather just crawl into a hole and never come back out. But it was a little too late for that.

Hunter dared to look at Willow again. She was stirring her bowl of cereal. It had turned into a mushy porridge and judging from her expression, Willow didn’t find it very appetising either.

She suddenly looked up and their eyes met. She smiled and gave him a thumbs up. He could feel heat rise to his cheeks again. He really thought he was over this by now. At least half of his face was hidden.

He knew without looking that Luz and Amity had that stupid smirk again. But screw them! Willow was just being nice, that’s just her thing. And he was just embarrassed about everything. He was just flustered, because…

It doesn’t matter! It’s over now and everything can go back to normal.

“Here, cariño.” Camila said as she put a plate down and motioned for him come closer. “Eat up. You need something better than cereal to replenish the blood you lost.”

The plate had two pieces of toast with a generous amount of scrambled eggs on top. She also put a bowl of fruit and a glass of water down. It looked amazing.

“Wow… thank you.” Hunter said perplexed. He hesitantly walked over, looking a little too surprised for Camila’s liking. He looked up at her, he wanted to say something else, but changed his mind and sat down.

He glanced at the girls on the other side of the table. All three of them were watching him impatiently, Amity even gestured at the food like ‘eat already’. He took a bite out the mountain of egg on toast. It was absolutely delicious. He realised how hungry he was, quickly going in for a second bite.

He hummed in delight and Camila was very happy to hear it. She smiled lively and exchanged thumbs-ups with her daughter. A sudden noise made Hunter stop in the middle of his third bite.

There were thunderous footsteps in the hallway. Gus appeared, grabbing the doorway so his momentum swung him into the kitchen. He screeched to a halt in the middle of the room.

“WHY IS THERE A TRAIL OF BLOOD IN THE HALWAY?!?”

Damn it.

Amity was watching Vee and Gus flock around a very worn-out Hunter. They had barged in one after the other, with the same reaction when they saw his bandages. They gasped and ran to him, inspecting every inch of his face.

Hunter tried his best to assure his buddy he was okay, but Gus wasn’t having it. And when Vee joined in, the conversation started all over again.

Now they bombarded him with barely intelligible questions. Vee even checked him for a fever, practically facepalming Hunter who was beginning to look annoyed.

Amity was sure they weren’t actually worried at this point, but they showed no signs of stopping. Still, she didn’t see a reason to step in. This was payback for scaring them so much.

Judging by the relaxed way Willow and Luz sat beside her, they felt the same.

“If you two are trying to play nurse you’re a little late for that~” Amity said in a sing-song voice. She smirked at her friend. “Isn’t that right Wi-“

“HAHA! Yeah cuz Hunter already patched himself up!” Willow exclaimed nervously. Then she leaned in to whisper threateningly. “You’re so funny Amity~ eat your breakfast.”

Luz tried to stifled her giggles when Willow gave her a menacing look as well.

Amity had no idea why she was so worried. Hunter’s crush on her was so painfully obvious, she didn’t need to hide anything. To be honest, Amity was still a little shocked that Willow liked him back. But this morning was undeniable, her beautiful best friend likes the blonde dork.

Luz swore up and down that she even saw Willow blush when Hunter put his hair in a bun. Amity didn’t see it though.

Gus hugged the older boy tight, yammering as he pushed his cheek against Hunter’s chest. Hunter seemed to resign to his fate, patting Gus’s back with a peeved expression.

“Veeeeeee~” Gus cried out with way too much theatrics. Turning to her while shaking his friend. “Hunter’s dying!”

“I’m not dying!” Hunter yelled irritated. He tried to wriggle out of Gus’s hug. “It’s just a wound, a shallow flesh wound, I’m okay!”

“But what even happened?” Vee whined frantically.

“Nothing- I just… Guys!” He turned to the girls with desperation. “Tell them I’m okay.”

Amity looked from her left to her right, sharing a silent agreement. They weren’t letting the entertainment end just yet.

“Well,” Amity placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on folded hands. She leered at Hunter. “you never told us what happened.”

Hunter tilted his head and stared at her with a look of pure betrayal. His mouth hung open from disbelief. He kept staring at her while Vee and Gus circled around him, poking and prodding. Willow bursts out laughing, quickly followed by Luz.

"Ugh!” Luz exclaimed after her giggle-fit died down. She was looking at her phone for the time. “I have to get ready for school."

Amity watched her girlfriend get up and walk away. She was surprised to see her eyes so sad. She jumped up to follow Luz while she got ready for the bus. Her girlfriend had literally just laughed her butt off, what was going on?

“That was a pretty weird start of the day, huh?” Amity said as she followed Luz upstairs.

“Ha, definitely.” Luz gave her an exhausted look. They entered her room, which was now just ‘the girls room’.

It was a bit cramped with the extra beds, but they made it work. They tried their best to keep things tidy. Although, Willow’s bed was a constant jumble of blankets that no one could untangle.

Amity’s own bed looked pretty inviting right now. She needed a nap, and it wasn’t even seven-thirty yet!

This morning had really been something. First, her friend was bleeding from his face. It had plunged the room in a state of panic. But then, out of nowhere, Willow had saved the day by playing nurse.

It was kind of impressive how easily Willow got him to sit down and cooperate. After sharing a shocked look with her girlfriend, which quickly turned into giggling, her and Luz sat down to enjoy the moment.

It was such a nice domestic moment. Watching the flustered mess form afar, side by side with her own source of tomato-face. It was almost nostalgic.

She walked over to Luz’s desk, which was a bit of a mess. The books they got from the library, all their drawings, and anything interesting enough to bring home were all be dumped on the desk. Luz’s egg palisman was also there, under a lamp. Nobody knew if keeping it warm like that was necessary, but it couldn’t hurt.

“So… what do you think happened with Hunter’s scar?” Amity picked up her pencil case from the desk, she knew Luz would forget it otherwise.

“I don’t know.” Luz answered quickly. She gathered her books in her schoolbag

“Hehe, maybe he couldn’t see where he was going through that hair and bonked against a wall. I swear his hair is growing faster than mine.” She held her own, now faded-pink hair up from the sides, but Luz wasn’t watching her. She didn’t really react at all. Amity decided to change the subject. “When does the bus get here?”

“I don’t know, soon.” Luz said, starting to feel a little antsy.

“What’s it like in there anyways?” Amity handed her the pencil case before she closed her bag.

“Boring- I don’t know…” She shook her head. Again, her eyes looked so sad. Amity still wanted to cheer her up, but she wasn’t sure how. Maybe she could tell Luz a story about the flying bus back home.

“Ya know, in the Boiling Ilses-“

“Yeah! Um...” Luz interrupted her, she looked a little alarmed. She pointed to the window. “Sorry batata, but I gotta go.”

“Oh. Right, of course.” Amity stepped aside, receiving a kiss on the cheek before her girlfriend practically sprinted away. She stared at the empty doorway.

The room fell silent and cold.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest, as she descended the stairs again. She tried not to feel so dejected, but it just wouldn’t go away.

It had been 6 weeks since her entire life turned upside down. That’s 1 and a half months. Or 42 days. Amity spared herself from calculating the hours. She didn’t need to count those.

Who’s counting anyways? Not her. She’s fine. She’s perfectly fine. She’s strong. She didn’t need to know. She didn’t need to think about it.

She didn’t need to think about her siblings or her dad. Or her home. Or her entire planet. Or how her girlfriend had become a little distant, hadn’t asked how she was doing in a while, hadn’t opened up to her lately.

Hadn’t comforted her about all the things she didn’t need to think about.

It was strange. Even though they had been living together for 6 weeks, and constantly saw each other, they barely had time to talk. Actually talk.

It wasn’t Luz’s fault! She can’t read minds. Amity just missed her bubbly girlfriend.

But it was fine! She is strong. And if Luz couldn’t be optimistic right now, she’d be strong enough for the both of them.

Starting with a portal to the demon realm.

She gathered her friends from the kitchen and they went to work in the clubhouse. They were close, she could feel it. They had a plan for a new portal door, which used palismen magic as substitute for Titan’s blood. They just needed to figure out a good set up.

Which was apparently impossible!

Especially if no one was helping her! Gus was busy teasing Willow, while she made magic flowers in the corner. Something about ‘livening this place up’. As if that mattered right now.

Hunter and Vee were in the other corner talking about a stupid old chair that had probably been there for centuries. She could hear Hunter fussing about ‘fixing it up with a sewing machine’ or something along those lines.

That was not important right now!

Not only were they doing nothing, they were also distracting her. Gus’s endless questions about Amity’s earlier nurse-comment, was making it very hard to focus.

She was trying to draw a schematic for the portal, but she couldn’t hear herself think.

And the scratching!

Oh sweet Titan, the constant itching from Hunter. What on earth was that guy doing? Did he decide to wear a sweater made of Griffin fur? Or whatever the human equivalent of that was!

“GUYS!” Amity yelled to get everyone’s attention. It worked, because 4 very surprised faces turned to her. Good. They better listen up. “Can we please focus on making this portal?!”

“Sure, we just-“

“No! Because we finally have an idea that might actually work, but you guys aren’t doing anything!” Amity watched her friends eye each other.

“Vee, you go back to the house and gather the portal-ingredients we bought yesterday. Willow and Gus, you guys go to the store and buy those metal cables. Hunter, you get over here and help me make a schematic - and stop scratching!"

"Alright! Damn!” Hunter threw his hands in the air. He gave her an incredulous look. “What is with you today?"

"Nothing!” Amity looked around at her friends, all of them seemed bewildered.

Okay, she may have overreacted just a little bit, maybe. She had the tendency to explode when something was annoying her, and then she’d just keep going. Like opening the floodgates.

“Good luck bro.” Vee slapped Hunter on the back. She slithered to the door faster than Amity had ever seen her slither before. She transformed in her human disguise and disappeared.

“Quick, let’s get outta here.” Willow elbowed Gus in the side and they also made a break for it.

Amity looked down, feeling her face warm up with embarrassment. She had definitely overreacted.

“Okay…” Hunter walked over to join her at the round table. He sat down carefully on the mini-cooler and breathed out loudly. “I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.” Amity said exasperated. He slowly reached out for the pen she was holding, giving her a look like she’d bite his head off. She slapped it down in his hand.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence. Hunter drew possible idea’s on how they would generate palisman magic. Amity monitored closely.

“Soooo…” Hunter began, clearly testing the waters. The death glare she gave him didn’t stop him though. “What is with you today?”

“Nothing.” She said again, knowing he wouldn’t buy it. She looked at his encouraging smile, which was lopsided thanks to the bandages. She sighed. “I wanna go home.”



“Of course.” Hunter said with sore understanding. He waited for her to continue.



“And I can’t do that unless this works.” She tapped her schematic repeatedly with her index finger. Those half-scientific drawings, held together with hopes and dreams.

“Yeah, but… those have kind of always been the stakes right?” Hunter said cautiously. He was on guard for any signs of Amity getting mad again. She was only surprised. He was seeing right through her. “Did something else happen?”

Amity looked at her hands, picking at her finger nails. For some reason, the way Hunter asked felt familiar. Sometimes he had weird instincts about these things.

“Have you noticed that Luz seems more sad lately?” She said, trying her hardest to not sound completely heartbroken.

Hunter took a deep breath. He averted his eyes and hummed in a way that showed how big a deal it was. For both of them.

“I don’t think she expected it to take this long.” He fumbled with the edges of the schematics.

“I wanna talk with her, help her. Cheer her up, you know?” Amity asked and he nodded. “I just don’t know how.”

“Why don’t you go on a date again?” Hunter suggested. “You can talk with her privately, but also cheer her up.”

Amity stared at him. It was so simple, he’d come up with it so easily.

“That’s perfect.” She was shocked.

“Well it’s not portal science.” Hunter laughed and she rolled her eyes. Then she remembered something and her face grew an evil smile.

“Maybe you should take your own advice.” She kept her voice sweet and innocent. She was plotting a perfect comeback, the poor boy had no idea. He only turned to her puzzled. “With a certain plant witch?”

Her scheme worked exactly as she wanted. Hunter’s confusion turned into wide-eyed recognition for a split second. Then his whole face lit up with a blush just as bright as that morning.

“D-Didn’t you wanna focus on the schematics?” He stammered. Amity cackled, happy with how her plan came together. Hunter hid his face in his hands until he calmed down.

They eventually went back to work. The idea flowed more easily. Funny how such a simple idea could mean everything. Amity felt a lot lighter now that she had a plan. Her brain was already busy designing a perfect date. She bumped Hunter’s shoulder.

“Thanks by the way.”

Hunter was sitting in the basement, sewing a pink armchair cover with the machine. Vee had helped him sneak it out of the clubhouse.

He really wanted to fix it and this seemed like the perfect time to use the sewing machine Camila had given him. She was delighted to find out he like sewing and taught him how to use the machine. It was very fun, she was a nice teacher.

Flapjack was snoozing nearby on the table. He had made a tiny nest of fabric scraps. Every now and then, he’d wake up to check Hunter’s progress. He’d compliment him when he did a good job. Or when he did a bad job. Flap still didn’t really understand sewing.

Like when Hunter accidentally stitched his sleeve onto the fabric. After telling Flapjack that, no that really wasn’t a good thing, he flew upstairs to grab a pair of scissors. He also suggested to wear something with short sleeves for the time being.

Hunter was a little paranoid that someone would come downstairs and see his scars. Which usually wasn’t bad, but some of them were still… shedding. Flapjack, being the hypocrite that he was, told him it was fine and went back to sleep.

He might be cute now, but Flap wasn’t as peaceful earlier. The little bird had gotten the shock of his life when he saw Hunter with those bandages. His ears still hurt from the loud chirping.

But explaining what happened to his own palisman was a lot easier. He already knew all his secrets.

Selkidomus scales, of all things.

He had read a lot about them when he’d lived at Hexside. The Selkidomus was an strange creature, an amazing representative of the Boiling Ilses’ standards. But they were difficult to study, thanks to them slowly going extinct.

As much as they still didn't know, the bestiary was quite extensive on the demon. There was a lot more information than there was about Grimwalkers. Hunter had felt a strange comfort reading about their traits and life history. It was easier to latch onto something he could actually learn.

He also felt a familiar pang of guilt whenever he thought of the creatures. He knew he was to blame as well, even if he technically never killed one. For days he had been hiring pirates, casting tracking spells and sailing the ocean.

He was hunting his own kind... in a way.

Was it normal for him to feel connected to those creatures? Is that why Belos told him to capture one? Did Belos make every Golden Guard hunt a Selkidomus? Were they all just collecting the ingredients for their successors?

Hunter shivered, half involuntarily and half in an attempt to shake those awful thoughts. Such a barrage of questions was painfully common nowadays. He tried to not fall into a spiral. Again.

“Hey bro,” Luz’s voice startled him. She was halfway down the stairs and hung over the railing. “Watcha doing?”

“Oh hey,” Hunter relaxed when he saw she was alone. “I’m fixing that old chair from the clubhouse.”

Luz jumped over the railing and landed on the couch. She sat down beside him and came way too close to the sewing machine, blocking his view on purpose.

“Ooooh cool!” She laughed.

“It is cool.” Hunter said as he shoved her head out of the way. Flapjack woke up from the commotion and went to greet Luz, who gave him all the head scratches he wanted.

While she was busy with Flap, her expression seemed to fade a little. Her smile was still there but her eyes looked somber. Hunter was reminded of what Amity said earlier in the day.

“Are you okay?” He asked worried. Her head shot back to face him.

“I’m fine! H-how are you?” Hunter raised an eyebrow. Luz grimaced, she heard it too. She just hoped he wouldn’t-

“Rough day at school?” There it was. His kind expression was nothing but a trap! He’d be all understanding and nice, and then she’d tell him all her problems.

“Yup!” She admitted just to move on quickly. She was here to check on him, not the other way around. “Anyways, I was thinking about this morning.”

This time it was Hunter’s turn to feel uncomfortable. They both had something they didn’t want to talk about. But he had literally been bleeding this morning, so his thing would have to go first. He sighed and checked the stairs to see if the coast was clear.

“Is it a Grimwalker thing?” Luz whispered after following his gaze.

He nodded, but didn’t explain anything just yet. A big part of him wanted to explain it to her. To ease Luz’s concerns and have her mediate with the others. Another part of him felt guilty that she was constantly the only one he wasn’t lying to. It seemed like they were always sharing secrets in the basement.

He also just didn’t want to admit it. The demon realm is weird, witches are weird, Luz herself is weird, but Grimwalkers are on a whole different level. It was embarrassing.

“My scars… shed.” He finally managed to spit it out. He looked back over at Luz. Their eyes locked for a solid minute of silence.

“I’m sorry, what?” She finally said after blinking a few times.

Hunter groaned and he let his head fall on the table next to the sewing machine. It was nice and cushioned from all the fabric scraps. Flapjack flew from Luz’s hands onto the back of his head.

“There, there kid.” He chirped and rubbed his beak over Hunter’s hair in way of patting him. Luz did the same thing on his shoulder.

“I’m gonna need a bit more information, bud.” She was trying to be supportive but that was hard when she was utterly confused.

Hunter sighed and moved so that he was laying on his chin. He checked the stairs one last time. Flap climbed up to nestle on the top of his head. He chirped a few encouraging words and Hunter sat up. He just wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

“So, I’m made from Selkidomus scales. And the Selkidomus goes through a shedding phase every now and then. So…” He made a motion with his hands to put two and two together. Luz seemed to get it. “When a shed isn’t ready to come off yet and it gets ripped or whatever, it damages the skin underneath. That’s happened a few times before. So I’m guessing I ripped my shed in my sleep and that’s why I was, uh… bleeding.”

“Huh.” Luz stared at him blankly and the basement entered another uncomfortable silence. It was definitely not the weirdest thing she had seen in the Boiling Ilses, but this was also definitely not what she expected. “So it really is just something that happens sometimes?”

“Yeah.”

“You shed.”

“Yeah.” He showed his upper left arm, where the scar was a little flaky. Luz had a befuddled expression. “But only on my scars.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” He threw his arms up with sudden misery. He dropped his hands on Luz’s shoulders and held tight as he looked her directly in the eyes.

“I don’t know! There is zero information about grimwalkers. Nothing! The only thing all the books can agree on are the ‘ingredients’. I don’t know anything about me!” He whisper-yelled the avalanche of his feelings. The sudden misery turned into hopelessness and a tiny hint of crazy.

“Oh right, that-”

“You know what I do know Luz? I know that the locals on The Arm collect the scales, because they believe it brings luck. But I don’t feel lucky!” Hunter shook her back and forth. He was being dramatic for the bit, while also meaning every word he said. “I don’t feel lucky at all Luz!”

“Okay, okay, calm down!” Luz laughed as she grabbed his arms to stop the shaking. Her brother slumped over his sewing machine, fumbling the loose threads with a grumpy expression.

He had forgotten Flapjack, who slowly slid off his head. The cardinal made an undignified chirp before remembering he could fly. He landed on the table in front of his witch and whistled anxiously.

Hunter patted him to let him know it was okay. He was dead serious, but he wasn’t seriously upset.

“It’s really not that bad.” Luz said. Hunter glared at her, thinking she was lying to make him feel better. “No really. I’m just glad you’re okay. This morning was a lot.”

“I’m sorry.” Hunter’s guilt was having a field day with this entire situation.

“No,” Luz playfully chopped his head. “it wasn’t your fault.”

Even if that wasn’t what she meant, it was true. He's gone too soft, too relaxed. How could he just forget about his shedding? How could he ignore the signs? Just because he was tired?

“I just-“ Luz continued. “I’ve been thinking about this all day. I couldn’t focus!”

“Is that why you had a bad day at school?” He saw an opportunity to change the subject and took it. He wanted to move on before they even started talking, but now he was really eager for a new topic.

“Ah, I see what you did there.” Luz grimaced again. There had to be a way to avoid this. Apart from making Hunter feel guilty. More than he already did, at least. “Yes, but also no! There was something else this morning…”

He waited for her to continue, looking at her expectantly. He had told her about his thing after all. Now it was her turn.

“Everything in due time.” Flapjack chirped at his witch.

“He says you gotta say it.” Hunter translated falsely. Flap looked at him bewildered and Luz smiled at it.

“Did he now?” She asked as she propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. Flapjack chirped indignant. He tugged hard on Hunter’s hair-noodle.

“Well it’s only fair!” Hunter defended as he tried to escape his bird.

Luz laughed at their antics. Hunter seemed to feel better after telling her. She knew the same would probably be true for her, but she was ashamed.

“I was mean to Amity this morning.” She admitted after contemplating for a while. She knew he was the last person who’d judge her.

“Mean?” Hunter’s face scrunched in doubt. That’s not what Amity had told him.

“She was just trying to be nice and I was being blunt and rude.” She hugged herself around the middle, looking at her brother for any hints of disappointment. But suspicion was still written on his face. “It’s true!”

“Okay, okay.” He sat back upright and put on a more serious expression. Flapjack made a soft trilling sound, making Hunter look from him to Luz. The tiny cardinal nodded encouragingly and the witch turned to his sister a little unsure. “Why were you being rude?”

“I don’t know.” Luz responded in surprise. She hadn’t expected that question, but it was definitely the right one to ask. Flap really was a wise old man in the shape of tiny bird. “Stress?”

“Why?” Hunter was glad Flapjack’s suggestion worked. His own instincts were to just comfort Luz, tell her that she couldn’t have been that horrible. Now he realised that wouldn’t make her feel better.

“Because!” Luz yelled, but more words wouldn’t come. Why was she stressed? She groaned. “Everything?!”

Flapjack flew onto her shoulder and chirped faintly. She couldn’t understand them but it sounded comforting.

“Again, not your fault, but this morning was a rollercoaster. And then I was scared I was gonna miss the school bus. But I also just didn’t want to go at all.” Luz became more anguished as the truth spilled out. “It’s already been 6 weeks! I have to go to school now. I’m wasting almost the entire day, while I should be making a portal! I should be getting you guys home!”

Luz’s feelings-avalanche was just as miserable as his own. Hunter wasn’t sure what to do know, so he resulted to following Flap’s lead. His palisman was still on Luz’s shoulder, gently rubbing his beak against her face. Hunter patted her head awkwardly. Luz laughed weakly.

“School is not a waste.” He tried jokingly, still coming up with something better to say.

“Human school is.” Luz pouted. She knew it was important, but it definitely didn’t feel like it. Hunter shrugged.

“I know it’s taken longer than we wanted, but you can’t lose hope.” He ruffled her hair and Luz ducked away. Flap jumped down to the table again, chirping his support for those words.

“I know and I’m not.” Luz said honestly, then she sighed. ”But I gotta get that portal working before I lose my girlfriend.”

“Calm down drama queen.” He laughed. “You and Amity are fine. The Boiling Sea would freeze over before you two break up.”

“But I don’t know how to apologise.” Luz whined. This was a big deal to her. She hated disappointing Amity like this. “I’ve been avoiding her since I got home.”

“Well that’s not smart.” He admitted, Luz gave him a grumpy look. He tried to ruffle her hair again, as he thought of a solution. A plan hatched in his brain. “You could take her on a date, to make it up to her.”

Luz lit up. His idea was absolutely perfect. The first time she’d taken Amity on a date in the human world, they both loved it. It was exactly the mundane, slice of life date she promised her. And it was awesome.

“That’s genius!” She looked at him excited. She would make this the most perfect date ever.

“I know, right?” Hunter said with a cocky smile and his palisman rolled his eyes.

She jumped up and sprinted back up the stairs, on all fours of course. She refused to use that thing like it was intended.

“Alright, bye!” He called after her. He laughed and shook his head as he went back to his sewing. Flapjack flapped his wings happily.

After just about 40 minutes, the armchair cover was done. He went upstairs to find Vee, so they could go to the shack and fix the chair for real. He found her in the living room. She was watching tv with Willow and Gus, all sprawled out on the couch with some snacks.

Their mission to go into town alone and buy those wires had apparently been intense. Gus had told him about something called a ‘plastic bag fee’ they didn’t know about. Which meant they didn’t have enough money. They had been scared to death about going to jail.

The poor cashier had tried to talk with Willow, but she insisted that they’d take the bags back. Gus had carried all the wires himself while Willow frantically pushed the money in the cashier’s hands. Then they escaped at breakneck speeds.

Hunter could only imagine the breakdown he’d have if he was in that situation. They had acclimated pretty well, but sometimes it was clear how foreign they really were. Luz was dearly missed on those missions.

“Hunter!” Gus greeted after hearing him approach. Willow and Vee turned around too and waved at him. “Welcome back to the upstairs world.”

“Hey guys.” He greeted back. He held up the fabrics he’d been working on for the past hours. “I’m done with the armchair thing.”

“Woah you already fixed it?” Vee slithered off the couch and over to examine his handiwork. She showcased it, so that the others could see it better.



“It looks great!” Willow commented and Gus nodded impressed.



“Thanks” He said sheepishly. He knew he still had a lot to learn, but it was nice to get compliments. Especially from her.

“Can you help me put it back on the chair?” He said to Vee. He was eager to complete his task and didn’t want to hang around for too long.

“Sure.” She agreed and they moved towards the hallway.



“Hey wait,” Gus stopped them in their tracks. “How’s the… uh- cheek situation?”

“It’s fine.” Hunter told him. All three of his friends looked at him with utter disbelief. “No really, I’ll probably take the bandages off soon.”

“If you need help, you know where to find me.” Willow said with a caring look in her eyes. Hunter could feel his ears catch fire just thinking about it, or just remembering this morning.

He was saved from having to form a response by Amity and Luz walking into the room, hand in hand. Hunter was happy to see it. Although, it seemed like he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

“Looks like the lovebirds are back to normal.” Willow said as she propped her arms over the back of the couch for a more comfortable talk.

Amity and Luz looked a little flustered, surprised that their friends had noticed. But they were also very happy to have overcome their brief awkwardness.

“I have a sneaking suspicion that Hunter had something to do with that.” Vee pointed finger guns at him. It was hard not to notice that both girls felt better after a conversation with him. The boy had a gift.

“Yeah, you might call me a relationships expert.” Hunter said sarcastically. Many people rightfully scoffed.

“You told a couple to go on a date.” Gus pointed out with a deadpan expression.

“Exactly, who could’ve thought of that?” He responded jokingly, grinning from ear to ear. Or ear to bandages in his case. It earned him a few laughs, but Luz saw her own opportunities.

“Fangs.” She pointed at his mouth, evil smirk and all.

“Stop!” Hunter covered it on instinct. His fear was short-lived, turning into annoyance as he glared at her. “This joke is getting old!”

“It’s not a joke, Hunter, it’s the truth!” Luz yelled passionately. Vee nodded in agreement. She used Hunter’s shoulder to jump up and ruffle his hair.

“Embrace your fangs!” The basilisk yelled with the same enthusiasm as their sister.

“They are teeth!” Hunter escaped her claws and made a break for the hallway. He was going to fix that armchair with or without her help. Vee decided it was with her help, changed into her human disguise, and went after him.

The girlfriends joined Gus and Willow on the couch. Cuddling as they settled, like the cuties they were. Gus was very glad they were back to normal as well. Besides, it reminded him of something. He turned to his bestie.

“If you need help, you know where to find me~” Gus repeated her words with an over-the-top sweet voice. Holding his hand elegantly under his chin and smirking.

Willow’s cheeks went pink. Her eyes dashed from the tv to her friend, completely caught off guard. She pushed Gus away as she tried to cool off her face.

He just couldn't pass up an opportunity to tease those two.

Willow had told him everything about this morning. She had been very flustered and he practically had to drag it out of her, but it worked. Gus knew all. And he was extremely salty that he had missed it.

[star-girl69]

I Loved You Like the Sun

a/n: the way that this is actually the cringiest thing i’ve ever written. enjoy everyone!!

reminders my requests are open!!! please send for rhaenyra specifically i wanna write for her so bad omg

warnings: mentions of death, violence, knife, injury, swearing, incest, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Nine- Fire Made Flesh

—-

“Rhaenyra, I’m not so sure about this.” The carriage shakes as you wind down the paths of King’s Landing. “What if Syrax does not like me?”

She turns from the window with a smile, sun hitting the side of her face. She is beautiful, and she is yours.

“Come here,” she grabs your hand, draws you towards her with a kiss on your cheek.

When she decides you are close enough, practically on top of her, she rests her head in the crook of your neck. You’re sitting sideways to face her, and you frown at the movement. You love the feel of her skin upon yours, but thoughts of burning alive in dragon fire are filling your mind.

“Dragons…” She whispers, and the rest of the world fades away. “Dragons and their riders have a special bond. Not like how a horse bonds with its rider, or a hunting dog to its owner. Sometimes, in fact, I swear Syrax can feel what I feel.”

“That’s beautiful, Rhaenyra.”

“And do you know what I feel?”

You shake your head, and she pulls back to look at you.

“I feel love for you,” She places a hand on your face, as involuntary as breathing. She tilts her head, smiling softly. “You’re so beautiful. And I love you. Syrax will know that I love you, and she won’t hurt you.”

And you do not have to scramble for a poetic answer, because Rhaenyra draws you in for a sweetest kiss. You do not burn. You are sun-touched.

—-

You are not sure how to feel when the man runs past you, barring the door before you even realize what’s happening.

Faintly, you realize you are still screaming.

“Shut up! Shut up!” He yells, and all you can do is stare at the knife pointed to your chest. You run out of breath, and he slaps you across the face.

When you fall, it is not graceful. You feel like a chicken thrown from a tower, stupid and dumb for thinking that your husband would not do this. You know it is him.

You land on your knees, palms spread wide onto the floor.

“Fuck,” the man whispers, and you whimper. “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you? Shame I gotta do this quick, or else we would have lots of fun.”

“Daemon! Daemon, please! Rhaenyra! Rhaenyra!” It is no surprise when he kicks you, hissing more curses, but you lose your breath anyways. You are rolling around on the floor, unladylike and you are a stupid, stupid, naïve girl.

Your eyes flick to the open window, and you wonder if it would be more of a mercy to throw yourself out of it now.

“Shut up, you stupid slut.” And he is hauling you to your feet, and suddenly the tears are falling fast and quick.

“Please- please do not, I do not want to die-”

He cuts you off with another press of his knife into your chest, and you scream when he punctures the skin. Blood stains starts to stain your nightgown, turning it from gold to red, like a flower blooming in the light of the sun.

He slaps you again, but you do not fall this time. His grip is tight.

You swear you can hear the wing beats of a dragon.

“Syrax?” You mutter, and you are losing blood and growing woozy with each second. The man glares at you, and you finally see his face.

His face is clean shaven, olive skin, and dark brown eyes. And there is a knife in his hands.

He looks at your questionably, but straightens as you both hear the yell of your name.

“Y/N! What’s wrong?” It’s Daemon, you think, or maybe Rhaenyra. You cannot tell. There is cotton in your ears, and blood is falling and your stomach hurts and your cheek stings and you are scared.

“Fuck. Gotta- gotta do it quick.” He murmurs, pressing the knife to your throat. You do not know what to think. But you do not have to, because the door is thrown open with such brutality you are surprised it does not fly off its hinges.

Daemon flies through the opening, and you suddenly realize it was not wingbeats you heard. It was the sound of him pounding on the door, desperate to save you.

“Daemon!” You try to run forward, but are pulled back against the assassins chest. Daemon’s eyes flair and you let out a sob.

“Let her go.” His voice does not betray any anger, only the promise of something dark.

The man behind you does not answer, only sizes Daemon up.

His hands are tight around Dark Sister, and his hair is unruly and has slipped out of its tie. He’s wearing only a shirt and slacks- not proper attire to fight at all.

But he seems not to care, as he takes a step closer.

“Stay back!” The assassin yells, and Daemon stays where he is. “I’ll kill her, I will!” But his voice shakes, and you can tell he was not expecting resistance.

Daemon’s eyes darken, and as if by some invisible command, guards file in from around Daemon.

They circle you with their swords pointed, almost like tendrils surrounding the sun. You are the sun.

You cannot see the man behind you, but you can feel his heart thundering and his grip on you go slack.

You can only stare at Daemon. He is your savior, your God, and you know instinctively that with him here, you will not die tonight.

Daemon’s eyes meet yours, and flick down quickly to your feet. His lip curls inward, in some cruel sort of smile, and you know what he is saying.

When the assassin lowers the knife, you slam your foot into his own as hard as you can.

“Fuck, fuck!” He screams, and let’s go of you. You do not know what happens to him, because Daemon brings you into his arms fast.

—-

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” he whispers, and you sob into his neck. He presses his hand to the back of your head, and does not tell you to stop crying. He urges you out of the room quickly, and you faintly hear the sounds of someone screaming.

“Y/N?” You cannot help but turn at Rhaenyra’s voice.

Her hair is unbound and her skin shines in a sheen of sweat, and tears fall down her face. Daemon hisses at the guard holding her back, and she runs forward.

Being in her arms again- the rest of the world fades away.

She pulls back, places a shaky hand on your face.

“You-you’re bleeding.”

“I think it’s superficial.” She nods, not quite believing you or herself.

Daemon is yelling at the guards in the distance, but you are too focused on Rhaenyra.

“Where’s- where’s the maester?” She murmurs, and the both of you are undone. “My- my Y/N…” She looks around, and you try your best to hold her together while you are falling apart as well. “Guard! You- you go get the maester. Please.” He gives a curt nod, and Rhaenyra’s eyes fall back on you again.

“Rhaenyra, I… I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She smiles, and it’s fake, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care.

“Don’t be, my sweet girl. There’s nothing to…” She trails off and takes a step back, smoothing out her nightgown. “I-I’m sorry. I just- I cannot lose you. And I am almost did, and I-” She stops, staring into your eyes. “Your eyes have a piece of the sun in them. Did you know?”

“I love you, Rhaenyra.”

A tear falls down her face.

“I love you too.”

—-

It’s much later when you sink into their bed again, no longer caring about any semblance of wrong or right, of honor and duty.

Your chest aches and your cheek sings, and you just want to be held and comforted.

You lay with your head pressed to Rhaenyra’s shoulder, her heartbeat slow and steady under you. The wingbeats of a dragon.

Dragons are fire made flesh, and Targaryens are fire and blood. They are a rolling mess of it, fire and blood and the sound of dragon’s roaring, the memory of fire and blood encased in their sigil.

It is not secret that dragon’s have a quick temper. They have fire in their throats, why not use it? But Targaryens are the same. They are closer to gods than men- closer to their dragons than men. Daemon and Rhaenyra have quick tempers, and when they do break, fire and blood reigns.

But you can tell Rhaenyra is pushing aside her anger, if only for your sake. She recognizes that you are in a precarious state- your mind wrestling like a storm and while she cannot calm the storm in your head, she can distract you from it.

So Rhaenyra wraps her arms tight around you, hums into your head. It must be a Valyrian lullaby, as you have never heard it before.

When the door opens- you admit you are too tired to look. Rhaenyra has succeeded with her sweet voice and soft touches, and sleep calls to you. Your mind quiets, and you feel the sudden urge to kiss her senseless as a thank you.

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra whispers in greeting. You feel his presence behind you, brooding and angry, and hear his soft pants rent the air.

“I was making sure the guards were settled.” You feel Rhaenyra nod. “I doubt they will send two assassins in one night, but…”

And Daemon’s words remind you of that horrible encounter.

“I- I’m so stupid.” At first, the two seem to be confused. You cannot see them, your eyes screwed shut in embarrassment, but Rhaenyra grows tense and the air changes. “I thought he would leave me alone. Why- why would I ever- I’m so naïve, so stupid.”

Daemon’s hand winds in your hair, and he tugs to get your attention. You cannot face them.

“You’re anything but,” Rhaenyra whispers, pressing kisses to your head. “You’re so brave, you know. The bravest girl.”

You would be lying if you said your heart didn’t warm at their words, didn’t flutter, didn’t squeeze. You bite back something threatening to tear through your throat- a sob, perhaps.

The bed dips, and Daemon presses up against you.

“You’re none of those things. I promise. Rhaenyra is right.” You nod, and although you don’t quite believe it, all of you recognize that it is a start.

“Sleep, my love,” Rhaenyra whispers.

“We won’t let anything happen to you,” Daemon finishes.

And you let these two people, these two dragons, fire made flesh, hold you while you drift off. You have never felt more safe.

Your days yearning for Rhaenyra are long gone- your memories only filled with them. You find you cannot remember your time in the Riverlands quite clearly, everything seems covered in a haze.

Only Daemon and Rhaenyra occupy your mind, and whatever storm was in the fades.

Your dragons curl around you, and you are the sun.

—-

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[dross-the-fish]

what do you think of the 1994 Frankenstein movie?

I'll be honest, I hate on that one more for its wasted potential than anything else. I feel like it tried to adapt the book but then it kept adding stupid shit and missing the mark.

Let's start with it's biggest crime. Kenneth Branagh, our director.

Oh Kenny Branagh my beloathed. We meet again. I've had it out for you ever since I had to stomach your ridiculous Shakespeare movies in high school drama class. I've watched as you brought your overwrought hammy sensibilities to Agatha Christie's Poirot and now here you are, injecting all of your overblown histrionics into Frankenstein.

I didn't think it was possible to be too dramatic for Frankenstein. But by god you've done it. There is so much scenery chewing, screeching, writhing and sweating in this that I actually started to feel fatigued and clocked out mentally about half way through the film.

Kenneth cast himself as the lead and I hate this version of Victor so much.

Wtf is this? Why does he have abs? Why is he in his mid 30's? Where is my sickly waif who gets feverish at the drop of a hat? Why have you done this?

Also I know they're canonically engaged but I really dislike for Victor and Elizabeth to be horny for each other especially in this movie because they keep bringing up their relationship as siblings and it's just eugh, please don't talk about her like that and then remind us that she's your sister you fucking weirdo. Their relationship in the book comes off as super uncomfortable to me and I swear Victor is way more into Robert and Henry than he is Elizabeth. Naturally this movie decided it should have next to no homoeroticism.

"How do brothers and sisters say good bye?" - start aggressively making out. No I'm not joking this movie goes out of its way to remind you that they are siblings.

.... And then it goes there with it.

Victor actually proposes to her and then asks her to come to Ingolstadt with him or offers to stay in Geneva with her and it's at that point where I'm like: did you read this book? Victor dodged their semi-arranged engagement like the woman had cooties and didn't write to her for two years because he's an obsessive, neurotic wreck.

Oh yeah and Henry Clerval is in it.

Oh were you hoping for more of him? That's a shame because so was I.

I've mentioned that this movie is over dramatic. But that really can't be understated. It's like a mac truck crashing through an English garden. No subtlety at all. If a character has to feel something they're usually screaming at the top of their lungs. Victor screaming at the creature to live, the creature literally ripping Elizabeth's still beating heart from her chest and showing it to Victor. They decided the bride should be Elizabeth and that there should be weird tension between her and the creature. Then after she's brought back to life she sets herself on fire and starts running down the halls of the manor.

I should probably have found that more tragic than I did but I just found the whole thing silly.

Justine's death in particular should have been more heavy and somber. She gets dragged off by a mob and hung. The scene is violent and cruel but it lacks the tragedy of the book. We have none of Justine quietly giving up and Elizabeth vehemently refusing to believe she's guilty. It's one of the few character building moments Elizabeth gets and this movie takes what should be a touching, somber and heartbreaking scene and turns it into a spectacle.

Everyone's reaction to everything is to do the most extreme thing possible but they never actually earn it because moments were the film SHOULD have emotional weight are kind of glanced over. The book has a lot of themes of grief and isolation but the film doesn't really explore those aspects effectively. It never stops to have a quiet or thoughtful moment. Almost like it's afraid the audience will get bored if someone isn't shrieking at the top of their lungs and some action heavy drama is going down.

The pacing in this film is jarring. Kenneth Branagh has a love for lavish sets, beautiful scenery and his films, if nothing else, are opulent spectacles, there are moments in this film where the cinematography is actually quite beautiful but I always feel that it's wasted by clumsy execution.

There are also scenes that come so painfully close to working, like early on in the movie Elizabeth and Justine drag Victor away from his work to go on a picnic and he only goes because he's hoping for a storm. He puts down a lightning rod and has everyone get down so they can observe the strike. I thought that could have been really neat and a good way to set up Victor's obsession but the execution was so clunky and the moment the lightning strikes and the four of them feel the static isn't allowed to sit and breathe. It jolts to the very next scene with no transition.

There are things I like about Robert De Nero's creature.

I like his design, even if it's not book accurate. I don't inherently like the idea of him being a resurrected cadaver of a specific criminal but I do, at times, almost like what they do with it, like having him wonder who all of his various parts came from. De Niro is a strong actor and I feel like there were the makings of a good performance here and it was stifled under bad writing and directing. I actually like most of the scenes where the creature speaks to Victor and the line "What of my soul? Do I have one? Or was that a part you left out? Who were these people of which I am comprised? Good people? Bad people?" is spoken with such poignant suffering that you really see how lost the creature is and it drives home the tragedy of the creature's condition. The creature is begging Victor to see him as human and Victor cannot or will not.

But these rare moments of something good peeking out are few and far between and the movie devolves again into it's predilection for overblown bombast. Even the final scene where the creature finds Victor dead on Robert Walton's ship isn't allowed to have the gravitas it deserves because Victor's funeral ends with the ice breaking in yet another tedious action sequence and the creature floats out to sea on a chunk of the broken ice setting himself and Victor's corpse on fire.

This was a moment in the movie that should have been handled with dignity and regret and I got this:

There's really not much else to say about this film. I went into it hoping for a good Frankenstein adaptation and I tried to find salvageable scraps but there just wasn't enough good to make the movie worthwhile for me.

Anyway, sorry this turned into a whole review but I was bitterly disappointed in this film and ended up having a lot to say.