#maybe it's just the lack of hyperfixation though

[daylightaftertherain]

it's weird how learning a language out of obligation is that much harder than a language you actually have a vested interest in learning

[methoughtsphantom]

DP x DC

not me thinking about imaginary scenarios of ten year old Tim Drake in the ghost zone (pariah’s castle)

where Tim thinks it’s strangely soothing that despite being the only one whose steps connect to the ground, there’s not that eerie silence that befell drake manor

strange blob creatures chitter softly and nip at his hair and swooshes and wisps of wind betray the presence of an invisible ghost

which after following he realizes it’s almost like he’s trailing after the black dark shadow that is batman again

which gives him the idea that, maybe, just this one time, he can play the part of robin

that in mind Tim makes out a game of sneaking to the side of ghosts that look like they’re brooding and if they can spot him he loses

most just grunt in response (very in character) while others fuss over him and ask questions which Tim uses to infodump

he also politely asks the ghost that always asks him how he’s doing to instead say the word “report”

(the ghost looks at him weirdly but humors him and besides the answer would be the same anyways)

Tim also(!!)

gets on the case of why the walls lack tangibility when he is the one leaning on them (he doesn’t live down the time he wanted to look cool only to fall through the wall)

hyperfixates on how gravity works in the ghost zone because he couldn’t do a skateboard trick he has pulled off many many times and he’s salty about it

tries to figure out where they are getting human food from (cause it’s hot enough to be homemade but also there’s no kitchen —so how could it be) (also he wants coffee)

finds out the dude that often gives him a side eye when he finds that Tim knows how to do something (math homework), is next in line for the throne and yet doesn’t have a single “mingle and talk people up” bone in his body. (despite it his networking is a solid 7/10)

gets a ghost horse to adopt him what

discovers pretty quickly that there are rooms to which he can’t phase through (a.k.a. he’s not allowed entry) to which he begrudgingly backs off even though that stands in his way of doing a very thorough layout™ of the place (robin would)

sulks over the lack of extreme sports in the place

(Danny takes him to the Far Frozen where they go tire sliding in the snow and where tim learns how to use a skateboard skate and also that ghost ice cream is just as good as normal ice cream)

sulks again cuz he caught a common cold

also because there’s no sun or moon poor Timmy’s already screwed sleep schedule gets more messed up to the point no one knows when or where he will fall asleep

(ghosts find him in the most unhinged of places with a signature purple cloak draped over him every. single. time.)

overall, be a menace

see-> the time he threatened to build ghost weapons he’d somehow memorized the blueprints of cause Danny wouldn’t let him visit the radium girls factory but yes the renaissance period

see-> that time he went through the whole ghost energy and how to work with it book section in the library and half an hour later had a prototype of a star wars laser beam made

(note: bribing only works for hot chocolate, not for letting him keep cool-looking guns)

just tim having the time of his life

clockwork being no help at all (the ghost loves being a cryptid)

and danny trying not to get attached while he progressively gets more concerned over this chaos child he emotionally adopted as his little brother

(to fit canon cause i want it to this would just be until Danny finds the dimension little Timmy is from, then they can safely yeet the child back to the moment he first went missing)

anyways before anyone knows it’s been three months

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello! I am SO hyperfixated on the fact that the overblot form CAN be controlled??? That’s the case with Malleus isn’t it? And I guess on one hand I can see how Idia can control it too because of his “curse/blessing” (and sheer will and spite).

Maybe this is foreshadowing that maybe it’s possible for the other OB boys to do so as well???? I don’t know how it’ll work with them but I’m so excited. Overblot cards potential AAAH

I’d love to hear more of your thoughts on this!

[Referencing this post!}

Yeah, I definitely think that OB Idia battle segment opens the floodgates for potential SSR Overblot Troublemaker(s) cards 💀 (RIP to the OB gang fans)

As a refresher for everyone (since it has been a while), alllllll the way back in book 1, Crowley and Cater describe “overblot” as thus: “[… being] overcome by negative energy and[…] losing control of [one’s] magic and emotions,” and “evil berserk mode”.

We’ve seen many examples of these traits in the main story campaign; oftentimes, the OB boy in question is impossible to reason with and has to be subdued via battle. However, it’s important to note that while the OBs may be primarily driven by their emotions, it is not purely rage but rather negative feelings in general. Yes, many OBs (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Vil, etc.) do attack others—but other OBs demonstrate moments of calm (ie when their demands are met). For example, Jamil is tame when he believes he has banished Kalim, secured hypnotized Scarabia mobs, and reigns over the dorm as its new leader. I do believe anger is still a large component of the behavior of one who has overblotted though; that rage most certainly clouds a person’s judgment and compels them to strike out at the slightest thing.

Now, about the idea of “controlling” OBs… I don’t that that can actually be done?? We have to remember that Malleus is a VERY powerful mage—and this alone could give him an “edge” that others don’t when it comes to being fully aware while in OB (though I believe both Malleus and Vil indicate early on they notice their blot building). As Idia’s dad states, Malleus is drawing his magic from nature itself and therefore has a limitless supply it. Secondly, I wouldn’t call Malleus’s OB “controlling” it to begin with. It’s clear that he’s still running high on emotions and is unwilling to hear others out or have them interfere with his plans. These are still traits associated with OB; it’s not as though Malleus is “overriding” the unreasonable thoughts, he is still ruled by them and acts on them. I think what you (maybe?) mean is that Malleus has a much more calculating approach and more precise control over how he wields his power rather than indiscriminately smashing stuff in his path. This, again, could do with his insane power level compared to his peers. Unlike most other OBs, his goal (at least in his own framing) before he overblotted to begin with wasn’t to “take away”, but rather to “gift” happy endings to everyone. This sets him apart just based on interests alone, and that’s perhaps why he acts the most different in the lot.

Now let’s consider the circumstances under which Idia OBs a second time: it’s in a dream, meaning it’s questionable whether or not this would transfer over to real life. Because it’s Idia’s dream, he has more autonomy in it, particularly because he is now “awake”/conscious of the fact that it is a dream. Secondly, Idia bears the Shroud family’s curse/blessing, which allows him to “power up” the more blot is present, as it serves as fuel for his magic. This alone makes him a “special case” which could explain the unusual amount of control he exerts over his OB form. (Again though, I’d wager it’s mostly the dream environment.)

I do see maybe the other OB boys doing a similar “oh, lemme OB to help you guys fight” in a dream situation where there are fewer limits on what they can do, but not in a real world setting. It would put them all at risk anyway, as they lack Idia’s curse/blessing or Malleus’s fae powers. Is that worth the risk, knowing they could all die or potentially turn on their classmates?

I just don’t see OB becoming a “tool” or a magical girl transformation the characters could pull out for combat purposes in the story (though this is possible for like the gameplay outside of the story). I highly doubt OB is like something you could train yourself to control; it’s less like bulking up at the gym and more like pushing yourself to keep exercising while you’re high on adrenaline… Sooner or later, you’d burn out and injure yourself in that overexertion.

If there ever are OB cards, I can easily see them as being the type that don’t come with vignettes because… what reasonable story could you conjure up to explain the OBing again? If there are vignettes, then they most likely won’t fit into the main story canon. You’d have to frame the OB cards as “within the moment” of whatever book they OB’d in, and perhaps go more in-depth about the trauma or something along those lines.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for declining a game someone gifted me with intent to play together?

This probably sounds a bit trivial, but these sorts of situations make me incredibly anxious and I could really use some outside perspectives.

I (24NB) have a small online friend group that was originally created so we could play games together. Over the years since it was first created, some people have come and gone for a variety of reasons (some pretty normal, others not so much), but the overall gist of the group remains: we’re just here to be chill and play games.

The group tends to hyperfixate on games together for a bit, then move on to another when the mood strikes, and sometimes we just have some periods of dead time where everyone does their own thing, etc. Sometimes when the collective hyperfixation strikes, I have absolutely zero idea what the game they’re on is about, and I’m content to just watch my friends get along and have a good time. I don’t mind not participating, and I rarely have the money to spend on games anyway. Additionally, unless the information is presented in a way that *really* catches my interest, I just kind of… don’t care to play it? I tend to experience emotions in black and white, so if I’m not incredibly excited by the premise, I lack interest altogether.

Here’s where I get tripped up: sometimes, my friends will gift me one of these games. I understand they have good intentions, but I don’t really understand the idea behind giving something to someone when they haven’t really expressed any interest in it beyond acknowledging it exists? It’s happened multiple times, and I get so anxious that they’re going to think I’m ungrateful or guilt trip me for not wanting to play (this has happened with someone who used to be in the group, though none of the remaining people have a history of doing it) that I don’t say anything to avoid the issue. But avoiding the issue just makes me feel guilty for not communicating that there is one. There is also the potential that if I tried the game, I would enjoy it, or if I watched someone play, I’d take interest, but once the game is gifted to me, I get this sense that it’s no longer an invitation, but an expectation? I’m not really sure if that makes sense, maybe someone can relate to it, I just know it makes me feel a lot of unpleasant things.

All of this context is to say: I received a new gifted game tonight, a game which I kind of intentionally dodged the conversation on because I was worried someone WOULD gift it to me. WIBTA if I declined the gift, even though I know my friends are well-meaning and want to spend time with me, because of my anxiety surrounding gifts?

[nobodysdaydreams]

More Hatchetverse Theory: Sycamore High and the Timberwolves are connected to the Hatchetmen and the Tree-People

Starkid's Hatchetverse has retriggered my hyperfixation, and by golly if you think I'm not gonna share every unhinged theory...you're wrong. I’ll tag them “#hatchetverse theory” to make it easier. So let's dive in.

One thing I haven't seen anyone talking about is the fact that, based on what we know about canon, Sycamore High School likely shouldn't exist.

Hatchetfield is a "tiny town". There doesn't seem to be a reason for them to have two high schools, especially when Sycamore seems to not even have enough staff and students for most extra curriculars and programs (in TGWDLM, Paul mentions they don't have a theater program).

So why does Sycamore High School exist? Well, one thing I noticed was that SYCAMORE High as well as its mascot, the TIMBERwolves, have tree related pun names. And what a coincidence, trees happened to be big in the hatchetfield universe, particularly when it comes to the hatchetmen and their hatred of the LIB and magic/“the gift” in general. They did plant a forest of magic tree people after all. And, since they hate the LIB so much, they likely wouldn't want their children attending high school at one of the black altar locations, which just so happens to be Hatchetfield High. That gives them a motivation to build an alternative school.

Sounds like a pretty solid theory to me, but then there's also the fact that the residents also seem to have an odd attitude towards Sycamore High. It's not hated by Hatchetfield High with the same level of hatred they give the Clivesdale Chemists, but they still don't like Sycamore, and the students hate the idea of transferring there. Which seems odd. You'd think it would be the other way around since Hatchetfield High is the school with the black altar. Unless being around a black altar makes the students hate Sycamore, and I could probably do a whole different rant on how the LIB's influence is messing with the perceptions and behavior of the people of Hatchetfield, particularly at the altar locations or when someone uses or has used the black book, but maybe I'll save that for later.

However, if you really wanted to take this theory to the extreme, it could be part of the reason why Paul "doesn't like musicals." Musicals and music are the primary way Pokey expands his influence in Hatchetfield, at least in TGWDLM. That might be one of the reasons Sycamore doesn't have a choir or theater program: not just due to lack of students, but strategically to keep Pokey's influence out. Paul went to Sycamore High, which isn't a black altar (and indeed, might even be designed to counteract or resist the LIB), therefore he's more put off by music and musical performances in Hatchetfield, though he doesn't really know why.

I also suspect this isn't the only instance where the name of locations around town have significance. This has already been seen several times, particularly with the black altar locations.

For example:

The Starlight Theater: has a star theme similar to "the Church of the Starry Children"

CCRP (COVEN Communication Research and Power): Literally has the word "Coven" in it.

Lakeside Mall: Used to be the old mill (which would be located near water, also "mall" and "mill" are one letter off).

And trust me, I have my theories about Clivesdale as well, but again, maybe that one is better for another time.

I hope you enjoy Starkid fandom!

[tojisbbg]

𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠

❝i'm trying to tell you something, something that i already said.❞  

♡ nagi seishiro ♡

a/n: if you couldn’t tell, i’m hyperfixating on blue lock rn. 

content: nagi seishiro x reader, roommates au, shorter than my other fics, fluffy, little bit of kissing, not edited. 

---

you shoved your hand in your purse, digging around urgently to fish out your keys. after finally getting a hold of the keys, you tried to unlock the door, only to have the keys slip from your grasp. you cursed at yourself, a scowl painted on your face as every single thing in your life was slowly pushing you over the edge. 

you just wanted to enter the comforts of your home as fast as possible, feeling like you could collapse on the ground in a matter of minutes. you didn’t know why you felt like this, an overwhelming amount of sadness and agony washing over you. the only thing you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die on your bed. 

finally, you were able to unlock the door as you kicked off your shoes to the side before locking the door behind. you threw your purse on the floor before plopping on the sofa. it was seven in the evening and the house was quiet, nothing out of the ordinary. 

your roommate, nagi, always came home much later on the day due to his soccer practices. this left the majority of the quiet time in your house as yours. regardless, nagi wasn’t really a loud person, only sometimes when he’d play his games really loudly in the living room on his days off. the both of you rarely spoke to each other as nagi was a pretty reserved person and he didn’t like doing anything that’d require him to do more than breathing, playing games and playing soccer. 

you didn’t mind though, it was actually a relief that you didn’t get screwed up with a pain in the ass type of roommate. nagi wasn’t much of a hassle as he paid his share of the rent on time, did grocery shopping on the days that was his turn, and he was a pretty clean person. 

though you rarely saw him, he had a strange effect on you. at first you thought maybe it was because of his mysterious behavior or perhaps it was the little things that he did. some of which included walking around the house shirtless, working out in the living room with his home equipment, or how he’d look so focused on his games. 

it made you feel funny and you hated it. 

 you were in a relationship with your boyfriend of two years, happily in love until things took a twisted turn. the doubt and lack of trust that your lover had in you because of your opposite gender roommate led to a rise in ridiculous hypothetical conclusions. 

today was the last straw. 

even after explaining to your boyfriend, now ex, that your male roommate was barely home and even if he was that a single human couldn’t have known about his existence; the man was still not convinced. you were a very fluid and transparent person, telling nagi about your boyfriend since he’d come over frequently. the snowy haired male simply shrugged before minding his own business. 

yet your ex’s words were sharp to the tongue and painful to the heart, telling you how all men are the same and women are nothing but bimbos when it came to an attractive man. his words made your blood boil, making you angry that just because he’s insecure about himself he’s projecting his negativity on you. 

and so, you broke up with him. 

now here you are, moping on your couch as you cried an ugly sob. you could’ve sworn that you’ve cried two gallons of your salty tears by now. the noises leaving your mouth were loud and full of agony, as you could barely breathe. 

you were hurting inside and you couldn’t find relief. 

“y/n? you good?” you heard a groggy voice call out for you, making your ears alert as you quickly wiped away your teary face dry. you picked up your head to see nagi by his room’s doorway, shirtless and wearing a pair of sweats as he rubbed his sleep-filled eyes. 

“yeah, i’m fine.” you quickly turned around and blurted out a lie, now feeling embarrassed that he caught you crying like a little bitch when you thought he wasn’t home. you now stupidly realize that it was saturday today, meaning that it was nagi’s day off. you were waiting to hear the sound of his door closing, but instead you heard footsteps inching closer to you. 

suddenly, you felt his fingers grab your chin before lifting your head, forcing you to meet his eyes. you saw him looking down at you with sharp eyes, your eyes widening in shock as your heat began to rise to your cheeks and your heart thumped in your chest ferociously. 

“huh, you don’t look so fine to me. what’s wrong? why are you crying?” nagi asked, his hand now moving to caress your cheeks as you felt the pads of his fingers wipe away your tears. these little actions and gestures stimulated you to cry even harder as you shook your head. 

“i-” you tried to begin your sentence, only to miserably fail as you choked on your tears midway. nagi let out a heavy sigh before taking a seat next to you before pulling you close to his chest. you didn’t even try to fight back with yourself, accepting the comfort that he’s willing to provide you with.

the skin of his chest was so soft in comparison to how hard and well-sculpted his athletic body was. he smelled really good too, a very fresh and manly scent radiated off of him. 

“it’s okay, you don’t gotta tell me right now.” he murmured, rubbing your back as you tried to relax. 

“i broke up with my boyfriend.” you sniffled, making nagi’s hand movement stop. 

“you’re crying over some silly guy? come on, y/n, i know that you’re better than this.” nagi scoffed, making you look up at him with glassy eyes as he gave you a slightly disappointed look. 

“but i loved him.” you quietly whispered, tears still falling on his bare chest and you felt bad, but nagi didn’t seem to care too much. 

“did he love you?” he asked, his question making your brain stop working as you paused, needing some time to think about the answer. 

your boyfriend always treated you like you were some kind of certification for him that declared him as a man who could pull bitches. he never once thought about what you liked to eat, what you enjoyed doing, nor was he thoughtful on planning for dates. 

so, did he really love you? 

“he did.” you thinned your lips, wanting to save your last bits of dignity to not die from shame in front of your roommate. nagi let out a hum in response from your answer. 

“okay, then you were in the wrong. go get back together with him.” the snowy haired male shrugged, his face holding an expression of boredom. 

“how is it my fault?” your eyebrows furrowed in slight irritation from how his words rubbed you in the wrong way. 

“a girl doesn’t break up with a dude she’s been in a relationship with for two years unless he fucks up real bad. but, since you both are in love, you obviously misread the situation then. go kiss and make up.” nagi patted your back for encouragement. 

you scoffed in utter shock, opening your mouth to say something until someone knocked on your door. both you and nagi turned your focus on the door, before nagi offered to open the door as he slipped away from your previously crying form. 

“can i help you?” nagi asked after opening the door, an unfamiliar male that he’s never seen in his life before was at the doorsteps of his home. the guy laughed in disbelief before his face was replaced with an angry look. 

“that fucking slut didn’t even bother to show you who’s the guy she’s been with for two years? what else has she been doing behind my back, huh? actually, how many other guys has she been fucking around with?” the guy spewed out crazy shit in the middle of the hallway, making nagi annoyed. you peaked from the sofa and realized it was your ex, making you jump out of your place as you rushed to the door. 

suddenly, nagi grabbed him by the collar, easily towering over your ex who was inches shorter than the 6′3 striker. 

“you wanna say that shit again, assface? your mama never taught you how to respect women, hm? i hate fighting, but i don’t like the way you’re talking about y/n. so, we could take this outside, if you want.” nagi said in a low voice, his tone was daring and his eyes darkened with anger as you watched in horror. 

“let me go, you fucking freak! this is between me and my girlfriend.” your ex tried to peel himself away from nagi’s tight hold but failed. the tall male snorted at the lousy attempt of breaking away from his hold, roughly grabbing the dude’s jaw as your ex winced in pain. 

“yeah? well, i’m the guy who she dumped your ass for. so, it’s actually between the three of us. but, the conversation is gonna end here ‘cause if you’re not out of my sight in the next five seconds, i’m gonna break your legs.” nagi threatened before harshly letting the guy go, making him stumble back before losing his balance, collapsing on the floor. 

“y/n! i know you’re behind him, you fucking user. give me back all the money that i dumped on your cheating ass!” your ex angrily bellowed, some of the neighbors now opening their doors to watch what the commotion was. 

“for god’s sake, please, go home and i’ll sort things out with you later. you’re causing a scene!” you whisper-yelled at him, eyes begging him to shut up but he was persistent. 

“why the hell would i do that? everyone in this world deserves to know your true colors, you gold digging bitch.” he spat out, making your eyes well with tears as you looked down, not being able to pick your head up while the people stared down at you and gossiped. 

“here, take this and leave.” nagi said in a monotone, reaching inside his pocket to pull out his wallet before throwing hundred dollar bills on the ground where your ex was sitting. the man looked shocked, but still shamelessly picked up all the bills before shoving it in his jacket pocket. 

nagi took a hold of your hand as he pulled you back inside the house, closing the door before locking it. 

“fucking prick.” you heard him murmur to himself before walking towards the sofa, taking a seat. 

“come here.” he demanded from you, patting the spot next to him. his sudden request flustered you as you and nagi never really sat down and do things together. nonetheless, you accepted his little invite and sat down. 

“so, i’m assuming i’m the culprit of this whole situation?” nagi cocked an eyebrow, watching you fiddle with your fingers nervously. you looked up at him with softened eyes before shaking your head. 

“i would never never blame you, sei. anyways, i saw this breakup coming sooner or later. he was too controlling and possessive over me. i guess you were fuel that ignited it.” you joked a little at the end, making him chuckle. 

“good, pretty little things like you deserve better than assholes like him.” nagi said, looking at you with a strange glint in his eyes. you gulped harshly, feeling a little shy. 

he thought you were pretty?

for some odd reason, your heart felt fuzzy and your pulse began to race. you dared not to look at him, afraid that he could read right through you. 

“well, that hope is all gone now.” you let out a heavy sigh, reaching over to the glass table where your lipgloss was. you applied it on your lips since they felt a little chapped from your little crying sessions. 

“why?” nagi asked, confused. 

“he’s most likely gonna go around to every single human on earth and tell them that i’m a cheater and gold digger. nobody wants to date someone like that.” you bitterly laughed, placing the gloss back on the table before looking at him with sad eyes. 

“but that’s not true, you’re none of those things.” he frowned, a cute little pout on his lips. your heart swelled, he looked adorable and it made you wish that you could kiss that little pout of his. 

“yeah, but only you and i know that.” you shrugged, accepting your defeat and miserable fate. 

“then be my girlfriend.” nagi suddenly blurted out, making you choke on your own spit. you looked at him with eyes the size of two full moons, waiting for him to break out into a laugh to tell you that he was just messing around with you. 

but no such thing happened. 

his eyes were trained on yours, waiting for an answer. 

“sei, we ca-”

“why can’t we? i’ve liked you for a really long time and i know that you like me back too, y/n. i see how you look at me and my eyes never lie. so, stop fighting against it and let me take care of you like how you deserve to be.” nagi’s voice was gentle, a hand coming up to your face to sway the loose hairs covering your face to expose more of you to his eyes. 

“okay, then let’s go on a date tomorrow.” you smiled at him and nagi gave you a boyish grin. he placed a hand behind your head before leaning closer to you. 

“sei! my glo-” your words were cut off by the feeling of his lips on yours. you closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck. nagi liked your response to his bold move, trailing his hands down to your waist before he pulled you on his lap. 

you relaxed your muscles, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace as you continued to follow the movement of his lips. nagi liked the feeling of your sticky gloss coating his lips, occasionally getting a taste of the sweet cherry lip product on his tongue. 

you felt his hands go under your shirt as his calloused fingers danced on your spine, sending goosebumps all over your body. your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, so you were forced to pull away. you looked down at nagi, who’s face was flushed and lips shiny with a coating of your cherry flavored gloss as you both panted. 

“why’d you pull away?” he whined, making you giggle before you pinched his cheeks. 

“i had to breathe, sei.” you gave him peck to console him. nagi hummed in content, enjoying how your soft and plump lips felt against his. 

“what should we do now?” you asked him, carding your fingers through his smooth snowy locks. 

“sleep.” nagi shortly answered, eyes half-lidded before he pulled you down with him on the sofa. he placed his head on the cushion while you moved your head on his chest, wrapping your leg around his waist. nagi’s arms protectively wrapped around your waist to make sure that you don’t fall off the sofa while sleeping. 

you could hear the gentle hammering of his heartbeat and it made yours follow the same rhythm. you smiled before placing a quick peck on his chest. 

“sleep well, sei.” you mumbled against his soft flesh, closing your eyes. 

“you too, baby.” nagi responded, midway in the process of yawning. 

then a comforting silence fell upon you both as the room was now filled with soft snores.

[sourw0lfs]

dance with the devil - part eleven

Words: 481 | Rating: E | CW: blood, death, vomit, the usual suspects

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || part eleven || part twelve

When Steve comes to again, he’s not in his apartment anymore. Instead he finds himself blinking as the sun blinds him momentarily. His head pounds, much like it had a week ago, but he know he hadn’t drank anything this time, so he doesn’t know why. He just knows he feels like throwing up.

Groaning, Steve slowly eases himself up on his elbows and looks around, recognizing the alleyway outside his apartment building. It’s gotta a makeover since the last he’s seen it, though, with the wall to his left splattered in a dark shade of red.

The coppery scent of blood fills Steve senses, and this time he does roll to be sick. “What the fuck?” he all but whimpers as he catches his breathe again.

Blinking hard, he tries to get his vision to focus enough to find the source of the blood, but there’s no body this time. There’s nothing. Steve isn’t sure if that’s better or worse. Because on the one hand, there’s no body, but on the other hand… what the fuck happened this time?

With the state of the area around him, Steve isn’t sure he wants to look at himself, but his eyes move down to his torso before he can second guess the thought. For a second time in a week, his entire front is drenched in blood. The only difference is that this time, he’s awake and aware enough to be horrified by it, to feel the way the fabric of his shirt is sticking to his skin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Steve mutters as he tries to get himself on his feet again. It all feels like some sort of sick, twisted deja vu, but without the annoying guy hovering over his shoulder this time. It’s the first, and hopefully, the only time Steve finds himself wishing Eddie were there.

Once he’s unsteadily on his feet, using the blood-soaked wall for support, Steve takes a moment to catch his breath, eyes squeezing shut as his head spins. This feels different than last time, more serious, more frantic. Maybe it’s the lack of Eddie. Or maybe it’s because Steve feels exposed. Or maybe it’s because he can’t stop asking why this happened again.

Maybe it’s all of the above.

Whatever the reason, Steve is freaking out. He’s freaking out and wishing he’d never told Eddie to leave him alone, that he’d never let Robin go back home after staying with him for three days, that he wasn’t alone.

But he is alone, and even in his dazed state, Steve can feel himself spiraling out of control again. His head is pounding and the world pulses around him. His eyes burn and so does his skin. It feels like his heart is all the way up in his ears, echoing in a rush of blood. Something is terribly, terribly wrong, and Steve is alone.

Tag list below the cut like always, let me know if you want added.

@chaosgremlinmunson @soaringornithopter @hbyrde36 @shares-a-vest @dreamwatch @quevadilla @puppy-steve @penny00dreadful @momotonescreaming @stevesbipanic @dawners @little-birch-boy @steddiejudas @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @estrellami-1 @vthx @lolawonsstuff @gleek4twd @littlebluejane @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lawrencebshaggoth @sadisticaltarts @queenie-ofthe-void @r0binscript @anaibis @hairdressersdoitwithstyle @goodolefashionedloverboi @spookednsaucy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @flustratedcas @mugloversonly @ellietheasexylibrarian @damnpotatoe

[paramouradrift]

Nine People You'd Like To Get To Know Better

I was tagged by @transboyzuko, and it's been a minute since I've done anything like this so here goes:

Three Ships: RMS Olympic, RMS Titanic, HMHS Britannic. The only three Olympic-class ocean liners ever built by Harland & Wolff for the White Star Line. Titanic's story is well-known, of course. Britannic was a hospital ship in World War I until she hit a mine in the Aegean and sank. Olympic's career lasted 24 years before she was retired and sold for scrap. Why do I know this? Because I have a morbid fascination with maritime disasters.

First Ever Ship: Heero Yuy/Duo Maxwell. I grew up watching Mobile Suit Gundam Wing on Toonami, and these boys were my bias. I still hold this fic up as one of the best I've ever read. Although, thinking about it, my first actual ship was probably Sirius Black/Remus Lupin via The Shoebox Project by dorkorific and ladyjaida, which I first read on Livejournal. But that was less something I actively shipped and more a ship I actively enjoyed.

Last Song: Hypomania, by Coping Method. My music taste currently vacillates between dance pop/electronica and heavy metal.

Last Film: Uh. Fuck, I dunno. I don't watch a lot of movies anymore. I did do a double Barbenheimer over the summer, though.

Currently Reading: So This Is Ever After by F. T. Lukens and Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson, but progress has been slow. Just prior to starting them both I devoured the Simon Snow trilogy, though, so maybe I just have poor time management skills.

Currently Watching: myself age by steady increments. I also don't watch a lot of TV or streaming series, although that's less from lack of desire to watch and more from being busy with other things. Well, I have been watching Money, Explained, but that's for work and does not therefore count.

Currently Consuming: I'm between hyperfixations at the moment. I have been working my way through Bret Devereaux's collected blog posts on the Battle of Helm's Deep to cope.

Currently Craving: rice. And the next part of Dog's In Love 2. But I can get rice.

I guess I'll tag some folks. Do I even interact with you people enough for this? I'unno. Let's go with: @chiptrillino, @lizardlicks, @three-lesbians-of-the-apocalypse, @schrodingers-bisexual, @deliciousstrawberrythings, @portraitoftheoddity, @sixseisliu, @persnickety-peahen, and @astrababyy

[gold-rhine]

sub! Albedo x Dom! GN! Reader

Warnings: not sfw, edging, first time, fingering, anal sex, long dialogs discussing metaphysics of human connection. Cock stands for cock\strap as usual.

A\N: Repost bc my previous blog got shadowbanned. very soft, almost didn’t want to tag as as dom! reader, but the dynamic is specifically pronounced. but give it a try even if you’re just into bottom Albedo.

Wordcount: 3k

Albedo might seem like cold and disaffected, but that’s mostly Neurodivergency (TM)

He’s extremely introverted and demi, he’s usually not interested in people at all and so comes off as curt and rude

But rarely, if he does form a connection, he very much quietly and intensely hyperfixates on it

“I used to think interaction with others was a waste of time. But after meeting you, I'd rather spend my time on you than other matters.”

As you can tell from the quote and his general interaction with the traveler, he’s pretty open about his interest. Albedo has a mix of very quiet, shy social awkwardness in some situations, and almost clinically shameless directness in others.

He’s lonely, but he wants very specifically someone who can see and understand him for what he is without flinching, and the people for whom the nature of his artificial creation would not change their demeanor towards him is who he tends to latch on.

While normally very precise and methodical, he can throw logic and principles out of the window when it comes to the person he really likes.

Like remember the last dragonspine event where he turned into an absolute spineless mush in order to fix traveler's ugly doodle without actually admitting that it's ugly.

They even specifically spelled out his thoughts to show that he does think it's ugly, while he's muttering out loud "no, its uh great, i mean i can maybe add a few embellishments if you would like me too".

He becomes clingy, but in an extremely introverted way. He would not initiate contact, but he’d aggressively, though in a very roundabout-way hint that he would like your presence (his story quests, esp the last scene of the latest dragonspine event)

And when you do choose to spend time with him, he’s very open about how he doesn’t really care what you do, as long as you’re together, and that he would like to prolong that time.

He’s also very straightforward about letting you decide and following the lead after he’s already realized he’s into you

“Would you like to have a chat with me?

Albedo: Certainly. Uh... I will let you decide the topic of our conversation.”

(again, the fucking second-hand embarrassment horror of the last dragospine event’s painting lesson)

“Heh, where should I begin...? In your company, I never lack inspiration”

“By the way, after we're done. may I have the pleasure of inviting you to dessert with me? To continue our time together, and to thank you for your company.”

Albedo is not an easy, quick fun type, he's a long time, deep investment only. But in return, he’s very curious and open to experiments, doesn’t have any societal prejudices, very accepting of other ppl’s oddities, artistic, deep-feeling, imaginative, with a quiet, but intense need for acceptance and praise.

He obviously won’t be loud and expressive, but if he’s your type, effort spent on him can be very rewarding, he is the case where you can give the lightest touch and see it ripple through him like a hurricane.

It happens on a seemingly normal evening while you two are drinking tea with desserts in your room. Albedo tells you about his latest research project, or, if more precisely, about how Cyrus from the Adventurers Guild keeps interrupting it with his inane training activities on Dragonspine. For someone who doesn’t know him, he’d sound just politely dry, but you can read sarcastic exasperation in his tone, so you laugh and sympathetically pat his arm. It’s a fairly innocuous gesture, but he suddenly freezes. You immediately take your hand away and apologize, remembering that he isn’t a very physical person, but he shakes his head, says that it’s okay. But when he tries to get back to his story, he’s clearly distracted and still thrown off balance, so you try to clear the air by promising to not do it again.

“No, I’m not displeased. On the contrary,” he says, throwing you an inquisitive glance askew. “It’s a somewhat interesting development on a… matter that’s been perplexing me for some time.”

“Huh? And what is this matter?” you ask, grinning, and are surprised to see Albedo, who is usually very straightforward even with the most direct questions when his curiosity is peaked, frown hesitantly.

“Well, it… depends. Do you see me strictly in… ah, platonic capacity? Because in that case, I would prefer to not endanger our friendship and move on from the subject.”

“Oh?” you smirk, raising an eyebrow and watch his pale sculpted cheeks color slightly as he avoids your gaze. “No, I’d be interested in your other… capacities.”

“Well, in that case I think it’s fairly obvious that I’m attracted to you.”

“I wouldn’t call it fairly obvious, but do go on.”

“The attraction itself does not surprise me, of course. What I find perplexing is how disproportionately strongly my body reacts. If you’re not averse to the idea of physical interaction, I would like to see what direct skin to skin contact would feel like.”

You look over him, a slight blush on his cheeks, but bright blue eyes watching you intensely, and grin.

“Anything for science, my prince.”

He nods seriously, starts unbuckling the clasps on the elbow-long glove on his right hand, but you don’t wait for him to finish, slide your fingers into the gap on his thigh between his high boots and shorts. He startles, almost jumping up, looks at you with wide opened eyes like a deer in headlights, and you lean in and kiss him. He makes a tiny surprised noise, but answers, a little awkwardly, leans into you.

When you move away, he sits there in stunned silence, blushing, one glove half-taken off, and shorts-pant rolled up, really looking like a prince who tries to find an etiquette- appropriate response to being ravished.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

“Yes. But I feel a little dizzy, I’m not sure why.”

You smirk.

“It’s probably a sudden redirect of a bloodflow.”

He looks down at his crotch, blushes brighter, but says calmly.

“Oh. That makes sense, I suppose.”

“I guess this makes an experiment a success, huh?” “Do you want to go on?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “But I would like to have some time to prepare.”

You think that this “time to prepare” is just to mentally catch his breath, but when you walk back into the room after some time, you find him by the bed, completely naked, clothes folded neatly on the nearby chair.

You walk up to him slowly, smile, not wanting to spook him.

“Hey, are you sure you’re not moving too fast?”

“Do not patronize me,” he says firmly, narrowing his eyes. “I am more than 400 hundred years old, I know biology, I know how sex works. The process itself is not complicated at all, it’s simply a matter of stimulating the appropriate organs and zones.”

“Oh, such a romantic,” you smirk, moving to stand close to him, and he looks at you sternly, an interesting contrast to his stark naked body.

“I didn’t involve other people because it seemed too much of a hussle to satisfy basic needs of the body when I can do it myself.”

“Then why make an effort now?”

“Because…” he pauses, looks away briefly and continues more slowly, measurely. “Of the inappropriate reaction of my body to your touch. And because when I touched myself imagining you it felt much better than when I did without thinking of you.”

You raise your eyebrows at his admission, but he goes on, his voice frustrated.

“It makes no sense! It was the same hand and the same gesture, and yet it felt so much stronger. Why? The same stimulation should produce the same results, but it didn’t. And now your touch, even over the gloved hand, which should not even be a desired zone for stimulation, feels that much intense!”

You can’t keep away for longer, lean down, catching his mouth in a kiss. He moans, leans against you, his naked slender body trembling, arching when you run your hands down his spine, his cock already getting hard against your thigh. You push him down on the bed and he lets you, looks up at you with hazy, wide open blue eyes, wet lips half open, pink tongue showing, cheeks blushing, and he’s trying to hide his hard dick behind the half-closed pulled up knees. For a moment you’re tempted to take him right there, spread his legs and ram into him roughly, until he screams and loses his senses.

But it’s much more fun to play with him slowly, so you prop yourself on the bed next to him, catch his cheek in your hand, looking down at him with a smile.

“You have a theory on why, surely.”

He blinks a few times, swallows harshly and licks his lips, trying to stay in control..

“Yes, but I’m not sure I should say it right now. I wouldn’t want to ruin the mood.”

“The mood we started with was experimental biology, I don’t know how you can ruin that,” you smirk, but as he still looks anxious, soften your voice. “Baby, if I didn’t want someone weirdly over-analytical, I wouldn’t go after you at all, don’t worry, you can talk.”

“Well, it’s not directly correlated, but I think it works on similar principles. See, there’s a difference between just a rendering of something, no matter how accurate, and art including the same object. In fact, an art piece does not have to be accurate at all. I’ve struggled to identify it, but it is undeniable once you feel it. You may call it an inspiration in art, but it’s also that ephemeral and unspoken thing that separates home from the house, an acquaintance from friend, a string of words from poetry.”

“Oh, you *are* a romantic, huh,” you smile and stroke his cheek. He makes a small noise and leans into your palm. You run your fingers slowly, lightly down his neck, over the curve of his collarbones to the beating pulse in the delicate hollow of his throat, and he shivers, arches under your touch, his breath catching. His body, pristine, touch-starved, reacts so strongly to the smallest stimulation, but even as affected as he is, he still watches you sharply.

“Do you enjoy it, seeing the power you have over me now, how disproportionately I can’t help, but react?”

“Of course. It makes playing with you so delicious. Don’t you like it?” you slide your hand down his chest, thumb at the tender pink peak of the nipple and watch him squirm, his cock twitches against his belly and starts to leak.

“It's complicated,” he says quietly, pressing his head against your shoulder. “I enjoy the sensations, I feel excited and anxious about what’s to come, but I’m also acutely afraid to disappoint.”

“Don’t worry, baby.” you draw your hand down over his ribs, tensed up stomach, stroke teasingly at the lovely hipbones instead of finally touching his pulsing dick. He’s just such a fun, responsive canvas to explore. “You can’t disappoint.”

“Of course I can,” he says incredulously, but then you slide your free hand into his fluffy, soft  hair, grip at the flaxen blond locks and pull, making him arch his throat with a helpless whine. You kiss the golden diamond on his neck and feel him tremble and swallow harshly under your lips.

“This mark is not more sensitive than the rest of my skin, and yet when I know you caress my imperfection, it wrecks me,” he’s shaking in your arms, and yet his voice is calm, almost distant.

“Albedo, baby, the absolute most of humans would not look at this mark and think of it as “imperfection.” They would just think it’s cute.”

“Is it a sign of how deep my differences run then if it feels important to me?”

“Being anxious about perceived flaws that no one else cares about is the most human thing imaginable,” you answer softly and he chuckles, leans against you.

“I can’t argue with that, I’ve seen it too often. I suppose there’s no such thing as perfection for a human.”

“No, there is.”

He watches you with a raised eyebrow, and you grin, lean down, finally covering his cock with your hand, catch a tiny, strangled sigh from his parted lips.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it. I’ll make sure of that.”

You stroke him slowly, trying to prolong the pleasure, but he was too understimulated for far too long, too high-strung, he throws his arms around your shoulders, his hips rocking into your hand involuntarily, eyelashes fluttering over the glazed over eyes, and he comes with a short breezy moan.

You kiss him lightly, stroke him through it until his body relaxes under you, frantic breath slowing down.

“Are you okay, little prince?”

He opens his eyes, and you can see him coming to his senses, the focus coming back into his gaze like a bright sharp edge of a scalpel.

“Yes. A little dizzy, but I’m fine. You can go on.”

“Are you sure you’re not too overwhelmed?”

His fingers dig into your shoulders just a little deeper.

“No. And I think I’m forming a theory.”

“Oh? I have to hear this,” you smirk, slide your hand between his legs to circle at his entrance.

“At first, I thought interaction with others was a waste of time, but now I realize I was wrong. Art can’t be created without inspiration, and inspiration has to come from interaction with the outside world,” he whispers, quietly, but with conviction. When you slide your fingers inside him, he presses his cheek against yours, his quick breaths damp and hot against your skin, his disheveled soft hair tickling at your temple. “A transformation can only be achieved through a reaction with a new reagent, and so the same with humans, a person can only change through the experiences obtained.”

You bury your fingers deeper, scissor and massage his walls until he opens up, his hips bucking up and cock getting hard again.

“See, baby, but if that reagent reacts like a human, then what does the origin of it matter?”

He looks up at you with a small, surprised smile, the sweetest and shiest you’ve ever seen on him, despite his trembling nakedness under you, the shameless spread of his legs, your fingers fucking into him and his pretty swollen dick twitching on his belly.

“You really think so?”

“Of course, my prince.”

He arches to press an awkward, fervent kiss against your lips and moans when you slide your tongue against his.

“Please,” he whines when you break up to catch the air. “I need to feel this, please…”

You take your fingers out and slide your cock\strap into him, pressing into him slowly, giving him time to adjust, but even so, he feels so full. He moans, throws his arms over his head to grip at the bedsheets. When you start fucking him, it feels so good, but also like too much, like his body is too small to contain it, and so he instinctively tries to let out the excess of energy, the crystalline flower blooming under his fingers. But it’s not his usual, perfectly structured symmetrical construct, the delicate amber petals sprout wildly, disproportionately at all sides, shutter and form again like waves with every thrust. Soon the pulsing gold flower is covering the rest of the room with a helplessly writhing form of Albedo in the center, and the outside layers start losing the definition, turn into flickering white wings of the crystalflies. He shudders with each movement, small, breathless “oh-oh-oh…” escaping his half-bitten lips, but he never takes his eyes off you, the bright aquamarine of the high, cloudless noon of the Dragonspine skies, sharp glow reflected off the untouched snow and the deep-glimmering ice.

“I can’t take it anymore,” he whispers weakly, barely audible, while the gold and white pulse of his flowers throw the flashing reflections on his body. “It’s too much, maybe I was never meant… to feel…”

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” you lean down, press the gentlest kiss to the corner of his open mouth, while fucking harshly into him, and he watches you hepleslly, intently. “You’re so beautiful and you’re doing so good for me. Just let go.”

He sees the way you look at him, the way you touch him, and finally he gets it, his body overripe, tension rippling on the cusp of revelation. When does a human feel perfect? Oh, but when someone sees them as such.

He arches in your arms and comes with a chocked scream, crystalized petals blooming all at once around you, and just for an endless moment, the chalk under his skin turns into gold.

[tsukasalvr]

hihi I'm starting to hyperfix on tbhk again and the lack of tbhk writers on here is criminally low :,)

sooo could you do teru minamoto x supernatural!reader but the reader is a type of supernatural that's like a vampire but not really like she needs blood and flesh to survive but she can like be in light. maybe she blends into the school to try to regain any type of humanity and teru notices and thinks shes gonna harm a student but when he confronts her she confesses that she just wants to fit in. So teru kinda just drags her around to make sure she doesn't go bonkers and it turns out she actually is nice and not malicious but still seems extremely weak from the lack of blood to maybe teru offers his arm to drink from and he realizes that not all supernaturals are bad

I'm tried while writing this so sorry if the plot seems to complicated or something

also I dont mind if its headcanons or a one shot whichever fits you're schedule <333

AN: FRRRR like the tbhk writers rn are doing amazingggg!!!!!! But there’s literally so few of them and idk if I would consider myself an active tbhk writer cus I’m so inconsistent with my works LMAO but I do have a lot of tbhk works so I guess I’m pretty good

supernatural!vampire!reader

Anime/fandom: Tbhk

Character: Teru Minamoto

Warnings: I don’t proofread

A/n: I love girls and I love girls girls bless all the girls

Tbhk masterlist | Main masterlist

Teru Minamoto

It’s one thing that you’re a supernatural, but it’s another that you’re also a vampire which makes you an even more danger to other students

He watched you sneakily, hoping to catch you alone, but you’re always hanging around other people smiling and laughing that it makes him curious on what’s your motive. Are you getting close to these people so you can feed on them later? But he hesitates on that thought with how real your smile looks, as if you really do enjoy hanging around others and don’t want to feed on them

It’s hard to catch to you alone and is only able to find you alone when it’s the end of the school day, you looked at him worried and explain your situation on how you don’t want to feed on others and just want to be a normal student and how if he wanted, he can watch until he believes her

Teru doesn’t know why he decides to believe and trust you, he’s never hesitated like this. So the next day he never strays far away from you and it isn’t till a week later where he finally believes you but still wants to watch you just for the safety of others, which you agree with

Teru can’t help but want to smile whenever he sees you and even though he knows it’s wrong, it doesn’t take long until the both of you become a couple and he sees how tired you actually are and how you try to hide it but it only seems to get worse every day

He gets worried and without thinking offers his arm and neck for you bite on so you drink some of his blood. But even after he realizes what he said, he doesn’t go back on what he says and reassures you it’s okay and although your hesitant, you agree and at least once a week, Teru lets you feed on him a little and will ask if raw meat will work the same if he isn’t available

Although Teru thinks it feels weird and can’t help but blush whenever you bite him, it’s all worth it to see you better

[rhine-gold-archive]

sub! Albedo x Dom! GN! Reader

Warnings: not sfw, edging, first time, fingering, anal sex, long dialogs discussing metaphysics of human connection. Cock stands for cock\strap as usual.

A\N: very soft, almost didn’t want to tag as as dom! reader, but the dynamic is specifically pronounced. but give it a try even if you’re just into bottom Albedo.

Wordcount: 3k

Albedo might seem like cold and disaffected, but that’s mostly Neurodivergency (TM)

He’s extremely introverted and demi, he’s usually not interested in people at all and so comes off as curt and rude

But rarely, if he does form a connection, he very much quietly and intensely hyperfixates on it

“I used to think interaction with others was a waste of time. But after meeting you, I'd rather spend my time on you than other matters.”

As you can tell from the quote and his general interaction with the traveler, he’s pretty open about his interest. Albedo has a mix of very quiet, shy social awkwardness in some situations, and almost clinically shameless directness in others.

He’s lonely, but he wants very specifically someone who can see and understand him for what he is without flinching, and the people for whom the nature of his artificial creation would not change their demeanor towards him is who he tends to latch on.

While normally very precise and methodical, he can throw logic and principles out of the window when it comes to the person he really likes. 

Like remember the last dragonspine event where he turned into an absolute spineless mush in order to fix traveler's ugly doodle without actually admitting that it's ugly. 

They even specifically spelled out his thoughts to show that he does think it's ugly, while he's muttering out loud "no, its uh great, i mean i can maybe add a few embellishments if you would like me too". 

He becomes clingy, but in an extremely introverted way. He would not initiate contact, but he’d aggressively, though in a very roundabout-way hint that he would like your presence (his story quests, esp the last scene of the latest dragonspine event)

And when you do choose to spend time with him, he’s very open about how he doesn’t really care what you do, as long as you’re together, and that he would like to prolong that time.

He’s also very straightforward about letting you decide and following the lead after he’s already realized he’s into you

“Would you like to have a chat with me?

 Albedo: Certainly. Uh... I will let you decide the topic of our conversation.”

(again, the fucking second-hand embarrassment horror of the last dragospine event’s painting lesson) 

“Heh, where should I begin...? In your company, I never lack inspiration”

“By the way, after we're done. may I have the pleasure of inviting you to dessert with me? To continue our time together, and to thank you for your company.”

Albedo is not an easy, quick fun type, he's a long time, deep investment only. But in return, he’s very curious and open to experiments, doesn’t have any societal prejudices, very accepting of other ppl’s oddities, artistic, deep-feeling, imaginative, with a quiet, but intense need for acceptance and praise.

He obviously won’t be loud and expressive, but if he’s your type, effort spent on him can be very rewarding, he is the case where you can give the lightest touch and see it ripple through him like a hurricane. 

It happens on a seemingly normal evening while you two are drinking tea with desserts in your room. Albedo tells you about his latest research project, or, if more precisely, about how Cyrus from the Adventurers Guild keeps interrupting it with his inane training activities on Dragonspine. For someone who doesn’t know him, he’d sound just politely dry, but you can read sarcastic exasperation in his tone, so you laugh and sympathetically pat his arm. It’s a fairly innocuous gesture, but he suddenly freezes. You immediately take your hand away and apologize, remembering that he isn’t a very physical person, but he shakes his head, says that it’s okay. But when he tries to get back to his story, he’s clearly distracted and still thrown off balance, so you try to clear the air by promising to not do it again.

“No, I’m not displeased. On the contrary,” he says, throwing you an inquisitive glance askew. “It’s a somewhat interesting development on a… matter that’s been perplexing me for some time.”

“Huh? And what is this matter?” you ask, grinning, and are surprised to see Albedo, who is usually very straightforward even with the most direct questions when his curiosity is peaked, frown hesitantly.

“Well, it… depends. Do you see me strictly in… ah, platonic capacity? Because in that case, I would prefer to not endanger our friendship and move on from the subject.”

“Oh?” you smirk, raising an eyebrow and watch his pale sculpted cheeks color slightly as he avoids your gaze. “No, I’d be interested in your other… capacities.”

“Well, in that case I think it’s fairly obvious that I’m attracted to you.”

“I wouldn’t call it fairly obvious, but do go on.”

“The attraction itself does not surprise me, of course. What I find perplexing is how disproportionately strongly my body reacts. If you’re not averse to the idea of physical interaction, I would like to see what direct skin to skin contact would feel like.”

You look over him, a slight blush on his cheeks, but bright blue eyes watching you intensely, and grin.

“Anything for science, my prince.”

He nods seriously, starts unbuckling the clasps on the elbow-long glove on his right hand, but you don’t wait for him to finish, slide your fingers into the gap on his thigh between his high boots and shorts. He startles, almost jumping up, looks at you with wide opened eyes like a deer in headlights, and you lean in and kiss him. He makes a tiny surprised noise, but answers, a little awkwardly, leans into you. 

When you move away, he sits there in stunned silence, blushing, one glove half-taken off, and shorts-pant rolled up, really looking like a prince who tries to find an etiquette- appropriate response to being ravished.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

“Yes. But I feel a little dizzy, I’m not sure why.”

You smirk.

“It’s probably a sudden redirect of a bloodflow.”

He looks down at his crotch, blushes brighter, but says calmly.

“Oh. That makes sense, I suppose.”

“I guess this makes an experiment a success, huh?” “Do you want to go on?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “But I would like to have some time to prepare.”

You think that this “time to prepare” is just to mentally catch his breath, but when you walk back into the room after some time, you find him by the bed, completely naked, clothes folded neatly on the nearby chair.

You walk up to him slowly, smile, not wanting to spook him.

“Hey, are you sure you’re not moving too fast?”

“Do not patronize me,” he says firmly, narrowing his eyes. “I am more than 400 hundred years old, I know biology, I know how sex works. The process itself is not complicated at all, it’s simply a matter of stimulating the appropriate organs and zones.”

“Oh, such a romantic,” you smirk, moving to stand close to him, and he looks at you sternly, an interesting contrast to his stark naked body.

“I didn’t involve other people because it seemed too much of a hussle to satisfy basic needs of the body when I can do it myself.”

“Then why make an effort now?”

“Because…” he pauses, looks away briefly and continues more slowly, measurely. “Of the inappropriate reaction of my body to your touch. And because when I touched myself imagining you it felt much better than when I did without thinking of you.”

You raise your eyebrows at his admission, but he goes on, his voice frustrated.

“It makes no sense! It was the same hand and the same gesture, and yet it felt so much stronger. Why? The same stimulation should produce the same results, but it didn’t. And now your touch, even over the gloved hand, which should not even be a desired zone for stimulation, feels that much intense!”

You can’t keep away for longer, lean down, catching his mouth in a kiss. He moans, leans against you, his naked slender body trembling, arching when you run your hands down his spine, his cock already getting hard against your thigh. You push him down on the bed and he lets you, looks up at you with hazy, wide open blue eyes, wet lips half open, pink tongue showing, cheeks blushing, and he’s trying to hide his hard dick behind the half-closed pulled up knees. For a moment you’re tempted to take him right there, spread his legs and ram into him roughly, until he screams and loses his senses.

But it’s much more fun to play with him slowly, so you prop yourself on the bed next to him, catch his cheek in your hand, looking down at him with a smile.

“You have a theory on why, surely.”

He blinks a few times, swallows harshly and licks his lips, trying to stay in control..

“Yes, but I’m not sure I should say it right now. I wouldn’t want to ruin the mood.”

“The mood we started with was experimental biology, I don’t know how you can ruin that,” you smirk, but as he still looks anxious, soften your voice. “Baby, if I didn’t want someone weirdly over-analytical, I wouldn’t go after you at all, don’t worry, you can talk.”

“Well, it’s not directly correlated, but I think it works on similar principles. See, there’s a difference between just a rendering of something, no matter how accurate, and art including the same object. In fact, an art piece does not have to be accurate at all. I’ve struggled to identify it, but it is undeniable once you feel it. You may call it an inspiration in art, but it’s also that ephemeral and unspoken thing that separates home from the house, an acquaintance from friend, a string of words from poetry.”

“Oh, you *are* a romantic, huh,” you smile and stroke his cheek. He makes a small noise and leans into your palm. You run your fingers slowly, lightly down his neck, over the curve of his collarbones to the beating pulse in the delicate hollow of his throat, and he shivers, arches under your touch, his breath catching. His body, pristine, touch-starved, reacts so strongly to the smallest stimulation, but even as affected as he is, he still watches you sharply.

“Do you enjoy it, seeing the power you have over me now, how disproportionately I can’t help, but react?”

 “Of course. It makes playing with you so delicious. Don’t you like it?” you slide your hand down his chest, thumb at the tender pink peak of the nipple and watch him squirm, his cock twitches against his belly and starts to leak.

“It's complicated,” he says quietly, pressing his head against your shoulder. “I enjoy the sensations, I feel excited and anxious about what’s to come, but I’m also acutely afraid to disappoint.”

“Don’t worry, baby.” you draw your hand down over his ribs, tensed up stomach, stroke teasingly at the lovely hipbones instead of finally touching his pulsing dick. He’s just such a fun, responsive canvas to explore. “You can’t disappoint.”

“Of course I can,” he says incredulously, but then you slide your free hand into his fluffy, soft  hair, grip at the flaxen blond locks and pull, making him arch his throat with a helpless whine. You kiss the golden diamond on his neck and feel him tremble and swallow harshly under your lips.

“This mark is not more sensitive than the rest of my skin, and yet when I know you caress my imperfection, it wrecks me,” he’s shaking in your arms, and yet his voice is calm, almost distant.

“Albedo, baby, the absolute most of humans would not look at this mark and think of it as “imperfection.” They would just think it’s cute.”

“Is it a sign of how deep my differences run then if it feels important to me?”

“Being anxious about perceived flaws that no one else cares about is the most human thing imaginable,” you answer softly and he chuckles, leans against you.

“I can’t argue with that, I’ve seen it too often. I suppose there’s no such thing as perfection for a human.”

“No, there is.”

He watches you with a raised eyebrow, and you grin, lean down, finally covering his cock with your hand, catch a tiny, strangled sigh from his parted lips. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it. I’ll make sure of that.”

You stroke him slowly, trying to prolong the pleasure, but he was too understimulated for far too long, too high-strung, he throws his arms around your shoulders, his hips rocking into your hand involuntarily, eyelashes fluttering over the glazed over eyes, and he comes with a short breezy moan.

You kiss him lightly, stroke him through it until his body relaxes under you, frantic breath slowing down.

“Are you okay, little prince?”

He opens his eyes, and you can see him coming to his senses, the focus coming back into his gaze like a bright sharp edge of a scalpel.

“Yes. A little dizzy, but I’m fine. You can go on.”

“Are you sure you’re not too overwhelmed?”

His fingers dig into your shoulders just a little deeper.

“No. And I think I’m forming a theory.”

“Oh? I have to hear this,” you smirk, slide your hand between his legs to circle at his entrance.

“At first, I thought interaction with others was a waste of time, but now I realize I was wrong. Art can’t be created without inspiration, and inspiration has to come from interaction with the outside world,” he whispers, quietly, but with conviction. When you slide your fingers inside him, he presses his cheek against yours, his quick breaths damp and hot against your skin, his disheveled soft hair tickling at your temple. “A transformation can only be achieved through a reaction with a new reagent, and so the same with humans, a person can only change through the experiences obtained.”

You bury your fingers deeper, scissor and massage his walls until he opens up, his hips bucking up and cock getting hard again.

“See, baby, but if that reagent reacts like a human, then what does the origin of it matter?”

He looks up at you with a small, surprised smile, the sweetest and shiest you’ve ever seen on him, despite his trembling nakedness under you, the shameless spread of his legs, your fingers fucking into him and his pretty swollen dick twitching on his belly.

“You really think so?”

“Of course, my prince.”

He arches to press an awkward, fervent kiss against your lips and moans when you slide your tongue against his.

“Please,” he whines when you break up to catch the air. “I need to feel this, please…”

You take your fingers out and slide your cock\strap into him, pressing into him slowly, giving him time to adjust, but even so, he feels so full. He moans, throws his arms over his head to grip at the bedsheets. When you start fucking him, it feels so good, but also like too much, like his body is too small to contain it, and so he instinctively tries to let out the excess of energy, the crystalline flower blooming under his fingers. But it’s not his usual, perfectly structured symmetrical construct, the delicate amber petals sprout wildly, disproportionately at all sides, shutter and form again like waves with every thrust. Soon the pulsing gold flower is covering the rest of the room with a helplessly writhing form of Albedo in the center, and the outside layers start losing the definition, turn into flickering white wings of the crystalflies. He shudders with each movement, small, breathless “oh-oh-oh…” escaping his half-bitten lips, but he never takes his eyes off you, the bright aquamarine of the high, cloudless noon of the Dragonspine skies, sharp glow reflected off the untouched snow and the deep-glimmering ice.

“I can’t take it anymore,” he whispers weakly, barely audible, while the gold and white pulse of his flowers throw the flashing reflections on his body. “It’s too much, maybe I was never meant… to feel…”

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” you lean down, press the gentlest kiss to the corner of his open mouth, while fucking harshly into him, and he watches you hepleslly, intently. “You’re so beautiful and you’re doing so good for me. Just let go.”

He sees the way you look at him, the way you touch him, and finally he gets it, his body overripe, tension rippling on the cusp of revelation. When does a human feel perfect? Oh, but when someone sees them as such.

He arches in your arms and comes with a chocked scream, crystalized petals blooming all at once around you, and just for an endless moment, the chalk under his skin turns into gold.

[bluemoondust]

Can You Do Headcanon Yandere De N, Damian (Pokémon), Atsushi Nakajima, Odasaku And Marrow (RWBY) With A Motherly And Caring Personality Darling?, Thank You And Forgive My Bad English

A good chunk of these men are touch starved so this was fun to write 。^‿^｡ Also, no need to apologize! Your English is fine!

When it came to searching up Damian, this is who showed up so I hope I got the character right! Edit: My dumbass found out that Arven's name is Damian in the Spanish version of the game (plus he kept showing up when I searched up Damian). I hope I got this right so please let me know if I didn't!

✧Motherly Darling✧

✧Currently Playing✧: Lock Me Up by The Cab

Characters: N Harmonia (Pokemon), Arven (Pokemon), Nakajima Atsushi (BSD), Sakunosuke Oda (BSD), Marrow Amin (RWBY)

cw: fem!/gn!darling (implied, no pronouns)

Warning(s): Obsessive Behavior, Overprotective Behavior, Slight Paranoia and Stalking

✧N Harmonia✧

Instantly attached the moment you show genuine care for him. N had already heard from your Pokemon that you were a magnificent person. They would only speak praises upon praises about how you love them as much as family would. It warms his heart to hear such things. So when he interacts with you, learning that your kindness extends to people and not just Pokemon, he immediately wants to keep you around.

The man has never experienced true care outside of his caretakers (Anthea and Concordia) so he is incredibly touch starved. His lack of experience with actual human beings has distorted his views of humanity and the norm (especially with what Ghetsis has taught him), making him socially stunted. N, however, doesn't feel out of place when he's with you. He truly feels like an actual person and not a freak because of your patience and attentive nature. You were able to pinpoint his struggles and aid him when necessary, never chiding him for the habits he has (speaking quickly, his hyperfixations, the ability to speak with Pokemon, etc.). It was an issue he was facing with after Team Plasma dissolved, but now he feels a sense of security because of you.

That's why N isn't really fond of being away from you for too long. He's grown dependent on your motherly nature and refuses to let go anytime soon. As I mentioned before in his general yandere headcanons post, it's hard to say no to this man when he looks like a kicked Lillipup. You feel extremely guilty when you try to refuse his offers to hang out. He doesn't have anyone else and he finds comfort in you...maybe your friends can wait. N needs you right now.

✧Arven✧

This is the same case with Arven, but he's not willing to admit it just yet. Unlike N, he is not ready to be fully vulnerable due to the grievances he's faced as a child. As we all know, his mother/father wasn't around often and he became independent at a very young age. He is the type of yandere who will keep his feelings to himself as he admires you from afar. Your immense amount of love and affection was so...unfamiliar to him. Foreign. He didn't know how to deal with it at first.

Though one thing is obvious to him is that he can't get enough of it. You're always reminding him to take care of himself and helping out when you can. It was odd since he's used to doing everything on his own. It...it feels good to rely on someone else for once. Was he...missing out on this for all his life? Arven reflects on things before he becomes attached to you. It's somewhat subtle but at the same time obvious. He's always by your side and doesn't go out of his way to befriend others (not like he was trying to do that in the first place).

Arven is so protective over you. It may seem endearing at first, how he stands by your side whenever you're speaking to your own friends. He's like your guard dog or something like that. Holding your hand as he squeezes it gently (you've made it a habit to hold his hand and he certainly didn't object after a few times of it happened) as he glowers at your friends. You insist to yourself that it's just his usual expression, but it really isn't the case in this scenario. He can't fathom why you even need these people when he could obviously provide you with so much. His insecurities eat at him slowly everyday. Aren't you satisfied with having him around? You don't need them...

✧Atsushi Nakajima✧

From the moment you showed your unconditional affections and compassion, Atsushi couldn't believe you actually existed. Not only are you such a warmhearted person, but you don't even expect anything in return. His heart strings are pulled with every kind action and word you take/speak. Coming from a place of hardship and pain, Atsushi had to take some time to process the way you were. It was something he clearly wasn't used to but...he couldn't help but be drawn to it. It's odd to admit it but maybe, deep down, he craves this sort of treatment. Something you just can't get enough of once you have a taste.

Then there comes the fear. You're so precious and ever so kind. It's the perfect set of traits that horrible people like to ruin. The world is just like that; where awful human beings like to destroy the beauty of it all. You're no exception and Atsushi would be damned if he allowed you to meet the same fate. He becomes protective, and why wouldn't he? You're living in a city where danger seems to lurk in every corner. You...understand why he insists to walk you home, right? Not only to make sure you're safe, but also for peace of mind. Though, sometimes he finds himself searching (and following) around for you in secret whenever his paranoia strikes him.

Atsushi can't help it. He simply cannot lose you, a person who has shown his genuine care when no one else did. You are literally the light of his life. The very person who keeps him going. He'd do anything to ensure you are never in any danger. The thought of you dying out there frightens him to tears. Always holding your hand when when it's just the two of you, just to make sure you're still with him. He feels like it's his obligation to do all this. Otherwise...what good is he to you? There might be better people in the world for you but...but he wants you!

✧Oda Sakunosuke ✧

Congratulations, darling! You just earned yourself a protector who will stick by your side no matter what. Oda immediately could see how much you hold your heart on your sleeve (unless there's more to it as he observes you). He admires your personality and has no doubt that you're a light that shines brighter than most. You have his deep respects. The tenderness in your eyes and voice when you aid others is very evident. You're definitely too good for this world. He wonders if you ever have struggles of your own. Oda doesn't mind your care or concern for him, but do expect him to return the favor, no matter how much you protest against it. The two of you are both an adorable sight, honestly.

Still, as a yandere, Oda can be a bit protective but he isn't going overboard in his actions. He does work for the Port Mafia, so he does make sure you're under some form of protection in case of anything. I will say that he is the least yandere to concern yourself over due to many variables that keep it that way. His ability is incredibly useful if anything were to go wrong. However, even then, it doesn't get to that point unless someone really wants to seriously hit him where it hurts. Also, Oda doesn't get jealous often. He has faith in you, your kind hearted self, but he worries about how others can take advantage of your kindness. Oh, and he's honest about that. He sits down to talk to you about it and knows you'll listen, taking his words to consideration. What a lovely man he is.

Oda definitely introduces you to the orphans he's taken in. He knows you'll love them and in turn they'll love you as well. He believes they really do need someone with a motherly presence, given how they don't have that anymore. If he wasn't already obsessed with you before, watching you play with the kids certainly made him want you even more. You've been a lingering thought, a dream to be added to the one he already has. More than ever, Oda wants to be a novelist who writes with a view of the ocean...and you by his side with kids of your own (if you'd want that). His drive to leave the Port Mafia is stronger as he makes sure nothing from that organization reaches your senses. Don't worry...You two will have the life you always wanted.

✧Marrow Amin✧

Marrow is an open book when it comes to how he feels about you (for obvious reasons). However, he won't admit that outright. He has a reputation after all and he can't get mushy on the job. This is what he insists as he quickly grabs his tail to stop its wagging. A dead giveaway of course. Even if Marrow is an open book, that's only half of what's going on. He deeply appreciates your kindness and it's evidently in the way he looks at you when he believes no one is around. Unlike some of the other yanderes in this post, he doesn't have much insecurities. Sure, with his background as a faunus and the potential discrimination he had faced, it could brew about self esteem issues. However, Marrow does not dwell on all that, especially since he's made it this far in life. Even so, he really enjoys the way you treat him.

The man doesn't even have to ask for anything as you go out of your way to assist him. It's cute to him, but he presents his response as a smooth, "Oh, I had that covered" just to dismiss how much he appreciated the help. It's not like Marrow is undermining your actions...and he really does feel bad when he's alone with his thoughts. Especially when you're offering your help to others instead. A sense of guilt washes over him, but also jealousy. He honestly can't stand watching you give so much attention to the newcomers who General Ironwood made official huntsman and huntresses. Like, sure, they're young and impressionable (and he likes them too!) but aren't you supposed to be aid him? I mean, he's the rookie and all (something he doesn't say out loud a lot...). Marrow can't help but watch you longingly from afar.

He's come to be accustomed to your attitude, praise, and warmhearted behavior so it was a matter of time before Marrow became completely attached. He is now sticking by your side more, giving you puppy eyes for his morning coffee, insisting you check him for injuries despite the fact that he only got hit once while fighting some Grimm and much more. Heck, he even hopes you're watching him when training or fighting off Grimm so he can hear from you how amazing he is. It just feels special coming from you...There are times where you feel like all you see in your day is Marrow. It was if your schedule only revolved around being assigned to assist him. You don't question it too much, especially since Marrow was still new to the Ace Ops. He needed guidance and all the help he could get. Is that really true though?

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @estrellami-1! Most of their works are on tumblr, but they have three on Archive of Our Own in the Stranger Things fandom. You can find all of their tumblr works here.

@finntheehumaneater recommends the following works by @estrellami-1:

If I Should Stay

(Push Away the) Lonely Times

Soft Touch Baby

I’m nominating them because they are just a delight to talk to, and such a creative writer. Honestly, the way they describe things is beautiful and I can see it so clearly in my head. Any character they write is written to PERFECTION. They’re one of my favorite tumblr mutuals…ever :) - finnthehumaneater

Below the cut, @estrellami-1 answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Short, funny answer? Hyperfixation. Longer answer… it just works in a way I don’t see many pairings work. Maybe I’ve just got blinders on, I don’t know, but nothing about their canonical personalities have to change in order for them to be together.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

This is like asking who my favorite kid is… I like SO many, it honestly might be easier to ask what I don’t like! I tend to like the softer things, though; hurt/comfort (emphasis on the comfort), found family, fluff, things like that. I’m a sucker for anything soft and slow, which @ghosttotheparty does an AMAZING job at.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Again, anything soft and sweet! I tend to read what I write and vice versa… though I’m also an avid smut reader, and I’ve only felt brave enough to try writing it more recently. I think writing smut isn’t really my thing, but I am glad to have tried, just to say I’ve done it. But hey, never say never; it could happen one day!

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

I can’t possibly pick just one!! @pukner has some AMAZING things, specifically the two series off-script and always burning, world keeps turning. I’m also obsessed with anything by @ghosttotheparty, as stated earlier, and anything by the amazing @steddieas-shegoes.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Honestly, probably 70% of what I write never sees the light of day. Not for lack of want, but because I lose inspiration halfway through. So with that being said, I think I’ve written all the tropes I’d like to; I just haven’t published all of them. Fingers crossed, though; I still have all those docs, and I do go back to them sometimes, so hopefully inspiration will strike again!

What is your writing process like?

In all honesty, I don’t really have one. I tend to start at the beginning and let the characters take over, which means even I am surprised by some of the things I write! One such example is the relationship between Steve and El in If I Should Stay. I never thought they’d get that close, but here we are!

Do you have any writing quirks?

Unless it’s considered a quirk to write alone in my room at night, in complete darkness, with only my phone screen for light… then no. I don’t think so. Although I have definitely noticed I make the faces the characters do, to make sure I’m describing the right thing! 😂

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Since most things I write never get posted… I honestly don’t know! Probably on a schedule, considering I’m not finished writing If I Should Stay yet, but I’m not super picky; nothing else I post is on any sort of schedule, though that may be just because I mainly post one-shots.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Honestly, it’s a tie between If I Should Stay and Falling. If I Should Stay because I never expected to stick with it this long—I’m working on part 61 right now—and I’m exploring a lot of things I haven’t before. Falling because to this day, nothing I’ve done has come out like that. It was effortless in a way I never expected it to be, in a way I’ve never experienced before, and I think the results speak for themselves; it’s one of my most-liked fics, clocking in at just over 4k notes on Tumblr and 6.6k hits on ao3, most of which happened in the first week of it being posted!

How did you get the idea for (Push Away The) Lonely Times?

In all honesty… I don’t remember. Probably a combination of “what if Steve had Good Parents” and “what if Steve and Eddie were childhood friends” Tumblr posts!

When writing If I Should Stay, what was something you didn’t expect?

Like I said earlier, Steve and El’s relationship was a surprise. As was Alli, actually; I had no plans for a sister, but then I saw a “Steve has younger-brother-to-a-sister-energy” Tumblr post, said, “you right,” and proceeded to write her into that very next part.

What inspired Soft Touch Baby?

I swear I’ve got the worst memory… I honestly don’t remember. It was one of my firsts, and at that point in time I hadn’t even seen the show yet, so I wasn’t super confident in the fic, but damn if I didn’t have the balls! Looking back on it now, it isn’t my favorite, but I think it’s important to know where you came from, if only to see that it’s not all in vain, that even I can see how much better I’ve gotten.

What was your favorite part to write from (Push Away The) Lonely Times?

Probably the entirety of parts 3 and 4. I love Jim and Hopper’s banter, and I love Jim’s internal monologue in 4 as he’s taking care of Steve. I love exploring characterizations like this!!

How do/did you feel writing Soft Touch Baby?

As I said earlier, I don’t love it now, but I do like it for the starting block it is. I do remember, though, while I was writing it, I was feeling so smug; I thought I was writing the equivalent of the goddamn Mona Lisa. Laughable, really, which is another reason I don’t delete/orphan it. It helps keep me humble, to an extent.

What was the most difficult part of writing If I Should Stay?

Honestly? Posting the first part. I thought it was a throwaway thing, something that came a dime a dozen, something that everyone and their mother had already written. I posted it far too late at night (or was it far too early in the morning?) because I decided I didn’t give a shit, and woke up to an overwhelmingly positive response. To this day, I’m blown away by the attention it got! My taglists hit 100 people in just 4 days!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

Honestly, pretty much the entirely of Falling, and to a lesser extent, Because of You. In the former, it’s the whole Apollo/Dionysus banter, the way Eddie says Steve’s eyes are hazel and his hair has gold, the way he calls Steve sunshine boy, and the not to me, not if it’s you line. In the latter, it’s Steve saying, “…Because I trust you. I feel safe with you. I believe you’ll take care of me, because you’ve already proven you will.” I imagined him almost upset when saying this; louder than normal, very emotional, just trying to get Eddie to understand. It’s a very raw line, Steve’s being very open, and in the context of the fic, it’s kinda groundbreaking for him, and Eddie knows it.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I think I’ve shared something about most of the ones I’m excited about… all of this will be after I finish writing If I Should Stay, but I have a fae!Steve fic that I’m working on, one where Steve goes deaf (very heartbreaking and emotional and real and so, so much love and family), and I’ve got a lavender prom idea I’m working on, in which Steve and Robin are Platonic soulmates, Steve has an unfortunate crush on Eddie, and Robin’s got an equally unfortunate crush on Vickie. It’s a No Upside-Down AU in which Steve decides to host the first(?) lavender prom at his house. It’s not called a lavender prom, obviously, but I do have something of an idea for a nod to the name. Here’s a snippet, if you want, because I actually am really excited about this one:

  Robin dramatically drapes herself over the foot of Steve’s bed and sighs. Dramatically. He quirks a brow, but otherwise doesn’t react, just keeps trying to focus on the same page he’s been trying to read for what feels like the past ten minutes.      She sighs dramatically again. Somehow it’s even louder than before.      He drops the book and looks heavenward for a moment. “What’s wrong?”      “Prom’s coming up.”      Steve’s nose wrinkles. It’s all anyone’s been talking about. “I know.”      “I’ll have to dance with a guy.”      “You don’t have to.”      “There are rumors, Steven. Rumors,” she hisses, rolling over to stare at him.      “Okay, so dance with a guy.”      “And what happens if he tries to make a move?”       “You reject him? Politely?”      “Steve.” She says his name like he’s an idiot. He’s used to it. “The entire reason for a girl to dance with a guy is because she likes him. I’ll be back at square one.”      Steve sighs, thinking. Truthfully, he isn’t really looking forward to prom, either. After his fall from the social totem pole, he puts a lot less stock in what people think of him, but even he has some societal norms to adhere to still. Societal norms like dancing with a girl when there’s a certain guy who’s been circling his mind instead.      “Okay,” he says, thinking. “Do you know anyone else who has the same problem?”      “Besides you? I can think of a couple of people.” The way she looks at him makes him think they’re thinking of the same person, and he’s suddenly struck once again with gratitude that she’s his friend.      “If you talk to him, I’ll talk to Vickie.”      “I will kiss you. Very platonically. On the forehead.”      He laughs. “Okay. I’m thinking, what if I host something here, the same night as prom?”      “I’m thinking there are a few people who would be really grateful.”      They share a smile with each other before Robin grabs the book. “Okay, where are you, I’ll read, you listen.”      “I love you,” he tells her seriously, moving to lay next to her and look at the page she’s looking at. He points to a section and she nods, tracing her finger down the lines as she reads.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

A VERY big thank you to whoever nominated me!! And a great big thank-you-I-love-you to anyone who’s stuck with me and my writing thus far. I appreciate each and every one of you! ❤️ And, if you’re someone who’s waiting on me to answer an ask, I swear I haven’t forgotten! I’ll get to them all… eventually!

Thank you to our author, @estrellami-1, and our nominator, @finntheehumaneater! See more of @finntheehumaneater’s works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[earth-7103984]

Amelia 'Amy' Miller - Venom of Earth-7103984

Unlike Venom in most realities, the symbiote itself never bonded with Spider-Woman in this universe.

Amy is an orphan girl around the same age as Spindel who developed a very unhealthy obsession with Spider-Woman, after being saved by her once. Always being alone caused her to hyperfixate on her new idol, building a relationship in her head, obsessing over her new beloved, despite never even seeing her face. It was this obsession that led to her starting to take as many pictures of Spider-Woman as possible. Eventually, she got pretty damn good at it and actually managed to score a job at The Daily Bugle. She certainly didn't like what they had to say about her adored Spider-Woman, but this was the only thing she could do better than anyone else, and it paid the bills.

Despite Spider-Woman being her specialty, she was also sent to take pictures for other stories, though she often lacked enthusiasm during them. She had been sent to take pictures at Oscorp, where they had apparently discovered some sort of alien lifeform that they couldn't yet understand. Much to Amy's delight, the whole press conference was interrupted, as Spider-Woman crashed into the place, being chased by the Green Goblin. After having to rescue civilians, fight off the villain and all that, the whole area was left a mess and, the black goo that was the lifeform was nowhere to be found. It had actually stuck itself to Amy's clothes during the chaos of the fight, fully bonding with her once she arrived home.

Even though she now finally had a friend, the symbiote certainly didn't help her obsession with Spider-Woman. In fact, it made it even worse, with the poor girl using her newfound abilities to get close and personal with her beloved, sometimes to the point of causing trouble just to get her attention.

Personality wise, Amy used to be a quiet, shy and very depressed girl. In a way, her obsession with Spider-Woman saved her from a very dark place, though this wasn't the best way to cope with it. She still became a much happier person, even if her happiness now depended on someone else. The symbiote only made her obsession and personality more extreme, with Venom wanting to help its host to achieve her romantic goals, clearly having a distorted view of the supposed relationship between Amy and Spider-Woman.

From a non in-universe story... I thought if Amy shortly after coming up with Spindel, maybe a couple of weeks after. I initially thought of naming her Ellie Brock, but ended up deciding to make her a completely new character, seeing as the differences between her and Eddie were just too big. A big influence for her backstory, as I'm sure it's obvious, was Electro from The Amazing Spider-Man 2, though Amy never really got to the point of hating her spider.

Art commissioned from @Angelesrevill_ on Twitter.

[eternal-armin]

ii. SO, HOW SHOULD i begin this?

part two woo. hopefully i'll be able to catch up on this and maybe publish some other stuff now that i'm home a lot more often (yay pain and mobility issues), maybe some arcane stuff since that would be fun, branching out into my last hyperfixation again lol. i've proofread so it should be good :>

pairing : five hargreeves x male/transmasc reader [he/him pronouns]

─────

where : after trying and sort of succeeding to get on the hargreeves' good side, five and [y/n] try rationalizing the situation and figuring out something, anything, to do about it.

─────

warnings : mentions of trauma, threats [of physical violence and murder], reader is still totally exhausted because how could he not be, depression, dissociation, pain, bits of shouting, not necessarily a warning but viktor is always viktor in the multiverse because the boy deserves it okay, existentialism, philosophical nihilism, family issues.

five adjusted his clothes in the mirror. although he wouldn't be able to have a proper retirement, he could look like a retired old man, couldn't he? who would've thought that someone could get so excited for beiges and tans. he got an amused look of subtle approval from you. beyond that, it wasn't very hard to look past your façade if he was being honest, you looked hesitant; though could he blame you? there were probably millions of worlds where his family fucked you over or just straight-up killed you. and yet, you also looked too tired to care. he couldn't blame you for that, either.

he touched your shoulder again. in a flit of light, which once again made you feel horribly nauseated and woozy, you were downstairs. surprised exclamations roused from his family.

"anyone know where vanya and allison are?" five asked, glancing with narrowed eyes across the lacking table.

"nope." and after that short reply diego went back to finishing off his meal—for someone who often scarfed his meals down, he seemed to be taking his sweet time. either that or your fun conversation with five had not taken as long as you'd thought; either possibility was equally likely at this point, really.

"nuh-uh... sorry."

"not a clue, unfortunately. something wrong, tiny dancer?" klaus asked.

"well, we have a new problem."

"who's this guy?" luther pointed at you wish his thumb, not caring to cover his mouth; your nausea was worsened to see someone talking whilst eating. diego looked at you then, and you hated how his glare bore straight through your soul. he really, really didn't seem to appreciate your presence. how both of them could so willingly ignore the phrase 'we have a problem,' especially from five, was unknown to you.

"this is [y/n]. he's one of the sparrows."

you waved once to everyone. whether the sluggishness of the motion, and the weak smile which accompanied it, was due to shyness or exhaustion was incredibly murky and unclear.

"so now we're getting all buddy-buddy with the enemy? do you know how stupid that is?"

"i'm sorry, diego, did you not hear me say that we have a problem?"

"well, you say that a lot, little brother!" klaus leaned forward to see you clearer, giving you a smile. it didn't really placate your anxieties or your strong desire to run, however it was appreciated. he waved, and you again waved back politely, still feeling very... guilty for your earlier flub. it wasn't a new thing, either, and that made you feel even worse. "hello, little enemy! how do you look so young? do you use those, like, '10 years younger' face creams? i didn't know they worked that well—"

"that is not a relevant question, klaus, now can someone please tell me where allison and vanya are?"

you cleared your throat slightly. "vanya is most likely getting a haircut. allison is trying to get to claire, but she's... not going to find her." it left a bitter taste in your mouth to refer to viktor in such a disrespectful way, but you couldn't take that from him. upon receiving suspicious stares from the younger hargreeves brothers, you mumbled a quiet "maybe."

"mind telling us what the hell is going on before i deck this mini-muffin across the lobby?"

"hey, hey, do not use mini-muffin as an insult! those are beautiful things, there's nothing better than mini-muffins when you're on a bender at, like, three in the morning!" klaus got a confused and heavily judgmental look in return for that... beautiful insight.

"[y/n] has the ability to see all other timelines, so he can usually find out the most probable events. okay? good. now i need to find allison, so can one of you fetch vanya, please?"

"no, not good, and no thanks! after all we've gone through, we deserve a proper explanation!" klaus objected. after a second or two of awkward silence, and a scowling glare from five, he gave in with a curt sigh. it sounded more like a groan. the brothers looked at you; klaus was the only one to seem patient, showing the approval of a parent understanding a kid's fear of giving a speech; luther stared at you with a puzzling mix of intrigue and subtle impatience; and diego stared at you with a raised eyebrow, leaning his head in slightly as if to say 'i'm waiting.' five's glare, although still quite characteristic, was a bit softer when aimed at you. you could never feel more put on the spot.

"you've gotta say something, little man, we can't read your mind," klaus encouraged.

"well, uh... i don't know exactly what it is yet, but something is wrong."

"aren't you omniscient or some shit? you can see literally every reality!"

the shouting scared you quite a bit and certainly made your headache worse. you put one of your hands to your head, mumbling, wishing you could just get some painkillers. if only five had given them back.

"don't shout, for fuck's sake," five grumbled, annoyed in his own right.

"i'm not omniscient. if no other worlds know something, then i can't, and... no other world knows yet. but something is wrong." your quiet voice was juxtaposed to diego's, still loud and stubborn like back in the academy. around 79.4 percent of every single alternate world which had diego in it found him like this, angry and short-tempered; it was very interesting. "you aren't supposed to be here. you guys, as you are, don't exist here. i don't think reality appreciates you showing up all of a sudden. and if versions of yourselves already exist in this world, then something will need to... iron out the wrinkles, i guess." you pursed your lips for a second. "not to be too brash or anything, but, to really, really dumb it down, you're a mis—you're mistakes."

"seriously? five, i thought you said that this timeline would be safe to stay in." luther looked like a scolded puppy. you felt bad. he was far too sweet—naive? yes, naive—for this kind of life.

"yes, that's what i thought, but second opinions are pretty valuable in my line of expertise. turns out it was sorely needed." his brows pricked up a few times while he spoke. "but, like you said before, it may be a problem we can solve."

diego remained, unsurprisingly, unswayed. "you better not be including this wad of chewed gum in that 'we,' five."

"what is with you and insulting him? he wants to help. jesus christ."

"last time i checked, his entire family just kicked our asses out of our own house, i have a right to be pissed, and he's lucky i'm in no killing mood."

"i don't agree that he should be killed," luther began in solidarity, "but we have a reason not to trust him, right?"

you took a little breath and exhaled it in a quiet sigh. "i know my family can be... extreme. and bad sometimes. trust me. and i totally understand how you can be angry with them and with me and think that i'm not honest. but i never hurt anyone, and i want to help you guys. you're eccentric yourselves, but usually you're good people. you're, like, an actual family," you added, trailing off, "not a group forced to stay together for monetary gain."

five squinted at you slightly. was that one of the reasons you chose not to grow up? you couldn't be associated with the sparrows if you were half their age. throw on a pair of sunglasses and nobody could recognize you.

jeez. didn't that sound nice.

"you guys really deserve a place to rest. a stable place to live, even. and if we can figure this out, then maybe you won't have to live in constant fear of coming into contact with your doppelganger or something. live, like, normal lives. as normal as they can be, anyway."

diego, much to your surprise, seemed to listen to what you were saying. sure, he still looked quite ticked-off and impatient, but you couldn't really ask for too much from him, could you?

"and you're sure that this is a problem we can actually solve? for good?"

"i'm not exactly sure what the problem even is yet. all i know is that something is wrong. but every problem has a solution, even if it seems impossible sometimes." there was a twinge of sage, melancholic hopelessness somewhere in there, some subtle disbelief. "five is quite the expert in timelines and time travel-related problems and paradoxes, and i'm an expert in alternate realities and manipulating reality itself. if anyone can figure it out, i'm sure we can. and i have no doubt that all of you will also play large parts."

luther's face was screwed into an expression of brazen confusion. "so... we're, like, completely blind, and need to fight an enemy we know absolutely nothing about."

"pretty much," you mumbled.

"surprisingly poetic way to put that, luther, i'm impressed," five mused rather sarcastically. "unfortunately, however, it seems we're gonna have to do something terrible and unprecedented." perhaps for dramatic effect, perhaps to quell his own annoyances, he paused and sighed out a breath. "we're going to have to work together." he did not need to specify the parties specified in 'together.'

"well, personally, i think this is a splendid idea. perfect opportunity for family bonding, i'd say! we're surrounded by decent chinese food and competent beds and cable television. decent music, too! and diego can finally figure out some self-discipline by not constantly threatening to kill [y/n]! marvelous idea little ones." admittedly, klaus's unique way of talking and gesturing was quite calming to you. you were very grateful for him. oddly enough—maybe you should've stopped saying that when it came to the umbrellas—klaus seemed to be that pillar of tranquility for you. viktor as well.

"calm down, calm down. you know that he won't turn against us or whatever? you're sure?"

the question was directed at five but you answered for him. "i'm not strong and i've never been in good health. even christopher, without his powers, would be better at fighting you than i would."

"the fucking cube?" you nodded. he plastered a grin over a pouting scowl. he sighed, giving into the plan. perhaps some remaining distrust still lingered, however, he could deal with it. "we've gotta clue allison and vanya in now. i'll go get vanya."

"finally," five huffed, shaking his head. "i'm going to find allison. you said she's going to try and find claire? i'll go to her old house." and then, the next second, he was gone. a few seconds of... incredibly awkward silence passed, where luther was staring at you whole-heartedly.

"go on and take a seat, young whipper-snapper. do you have any dietary restrictions? or allergies? we've probably got something here you can eat, if you want."

you had asked to walk back home with five.

"why with me?" "it's a little bit selfish, but i really don't want to be alone right now, and you're the number one person i trust right now." "flattering," he muttered. "then why walk?" "i think better when i walk."

admittedly, walking was taxing for you right now, so it may not have been your brightest idea, but after this entire day you needed a nice break; the picturesque city sunset was nice, the breeze was subtle and sweet, and it smelled like food out there on the streets. viktor had offered to talk with marcus and try to make a deal; you'd asked him to be very, very careful. "i don't know if purposely seeking out the anomaly would be more effective, or if allowing it to reveal itself would be better. maybe we should seek it out."

five nodded slightly. "allowing it to reveal itself could mean that it becomes too powerful to stop."

"that's kind of what i was thinking. we don't know how it would reveal itself. what if it destroys something, or changes something? what if it hurts people?" your voice was quieter with that last proposition. it was the worst possible option in your mind; buildings could be rebuilt. changes could be undone, with enough time and patience. but people could not be undamaged, and they could not be brought back to life.

well, not permanently, anyway.

five's pace slowed a bit and he peered at you, strangely, for a moment. you avoided his eyes.

"surprisingly enough, i don't think this is the... worst outcome." "forgive me but i don't really believe you. we've got jack all on either side. essentially, we're alone." "you're used to it, five." "hmph. and you aren't?" "not in this way, i guess." there was more he wanted to say but you would not give him the opportunity to dig too deep. "there are worlds where your family is on board. trusts me, even, after some convincing. and there are also some where we narrow the options down. i'd love to be in one of those. but at least we aren't at each other's throats again, or diego's choking me to death." your voice soured. if you got too close, you could feel that pain. there your mind went then, trying to save your other selves out of some ethereal desperation you could never claw yourself away from.

"ow!" you hissed, clapping a hand to your neck where it had stung, sharp and sudden. "what was that?"

"you were seriously so spaced out you didn't see me?" five asked, though it barely sounded like a question. he sounded just barely concerned. you had looked like a glove without a hand. "jeez," he scoffed, shaking his head. "did you see anything helpful, at least? anything at all?"

your mind was still seared and shattered across uncountable realities and he could see that struggle to ground in your eyes. hear it in your breath. you had little mental fortitude left to respond. "sorry? can you repeat that?"

five didn't roll his eyes. unfortunately, he knew dissociation. he carefully took your hands in his, rubbing your knuckles like he'd seen you do before, and that seemed to give you... some amount of usable energy. it was also sort of difficult not to notice him, of all people, doing it, even while he sported an expression of general distaste for the situation; you couldn't tell if it was falsified or not. slowly, you were returning to your body, and it felt heavier than ever before. "what did you see?" he repeated, just as you asked, meticulously annunciating each word and using a decent pace.

you nodded slightly. "i saw a few other timelines. less fortunate ones." you didn't need to elaborate for five to understand what you were referring to. the broad strokes, anyway. "nothing really useful, though," you added after a second in total defeat.

"shit. well, that's alright." and though it clearly wasn't, you didn't say anything.

"how long have we been standing here?"

"... a minute or two."

"oh, great," you mumbled, shaking your head to yourself. your record was around two hours, sure, but it still sucked. "the... we should seek it out."

"wow. you remembered."

"we were having the same conversation a whole lot. given i was still alive and actually grew to trust you." it was a half-joke but it succeeded in getting a bare grin out of five. "we can't risk hurting other people."

"or destroying something," five added.

"or destroying something," you agreed, then furrowing your brow slightly. a cafe nearby was playing pleasant music; that was something keeping you tethered to this world in particular, as if five wasn't enough, but even he was quiet sometimes. "the only problem is we don't know where it is."

"or what it looks like. if it even looks like something at all. it could very well be invisible or incomprehensible." he scowled for a second, though not out of irritation, thinking rather loudly to himself. "we should start where we appeared, i think." you nodded in agreement. "if your... 'family' decides to work with us, all of us, then we can search a whole lot more. but we should get the basics out of the way."

"the beginning is always the most logical place to start."

"quaint way to put it, did you write the sound of music in another universe?"

"what part about 'literally any possible, feasible universe' do you not understand?" you joked, managing a small smile of your own, and five would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little bit relieved to see you humoring yourself again.

"i deserve that." he paused for a second. "i know you said that walking helps you think, and you definitely need to do that more, but you look like a dead man standing right now. i'd rather just drop you off at the academy and get back to my own family. are you okay to teleport?" you did not respond at first, taking careful account of how you felt and how you may feel after. eventually, and rather subtly, you nodded.

"my room is klaus's old room back in your universe."

"wow, that... makes it easier. safer, probably." that was the closest you were going to get to 'thank you' so you took it. you shut your eyes tight and breathed deep through that half-second nausea-bomb. you were happy to see your room when you opened your eyes; smelling like home, looking like home, feeling like pure comfort. five glanced about your room. somehow it looked exactly like what he expected from you, which was a compliment. it was cozy. well-lived—especially the bed. there were many blankets and pillows and a few stuffed animals, unmade, probably because you barely left it. he couldn't blame you, either.

looking at you, you seemed totally relieved and excited to be back home.

"are you going to let go of my hands now?"

five stiffened for a second, mumbling a hushed apology before letting go, shoving his hands in his pockets. you couldn't help but grin a little, tiredly, and he scoffed when he saw it. "don't look at me like that. i was helping you ground, since you evidently can't do it yourself sometimes." not that he could blame you, really. he couldn't imagine what it would be like to be... you.

you ignored the jab. "i'm surprised you're willing to wait to take care of this," you mumbled, hanging up your scarf and sweater, lazily rifling through your dresser to find something decently comfortable to pass out in. "you always insisted on getting things done quick. if not immediately."

"i'm desperate for one damn moment of peace. the world isn't being decimated just yet. i just want to sleep decently for once."

you smiled slightly. no one could work while exhausted, especially not when it came to your quandary. "go on and sleep then. i'll meet you at the obsidian again tomorrow."

"yeah. oh, uh, just remembered something. close your eyes for a few seconds."

"why?"

"just do it."

you scoffed, though without any sort of animosity or annoyance, shutting your eyes tight like he told you to. you heard the familiar sound of his blinking once, twice. "alright. you can look. here." he held out to you your bottle of painkillers. "nearly forgot to give them back."

"oh, sh—thank you." the relief on your face was quite plain and sort of comforting as well. he mustered a slight hum in response.

"good night."

"night, five. sleep well."

"hmph. we'll see."

[stuckyfingers]

I'm just thinking about autistic Steve...

(I'm not as well educated about autism as I'd like to be so do correct me if I'm wrong)

Like, he's always been 'weird' even apart from his physical disabilities. He's felt a kind of self hatred over how sensitive he is to little things that are wrong but he can't explain why.

He hated talking but also loved talking about one specific thing that noone had any idea why he liked. (If someone can headcanon his hyperfixation, that'd be great). Either way, it didn't make him very popular among his peers. As a child he'd get bullied for just about anything because of how many faux pas-es he made.

He'd try to get home as soon as possible from school and shut himself into his plywood cabin of a room and cry. Bucky theorized that he was a vampire because of how much he liked fabric lined dark places.

He never guessed it wasn't normal to hate wearing clothes, so he continued living in constant discomfort and caution. Sarah had caught on to the specificities of how he needed his food and tried her best to get his safe foods on the table despite being poor. (Yes, she even called it that.)

Did I mention he also starts crying when he can't predict his day. And when things get more and more uncertain with the Depression swinging in, he gets so stressed that his heart problems worsen.

But having Bucky as a friend helps them both survive the times. Bucky was the only person who seemed unconcerned and unjudgmental about Steve's 'moodiness' and 'fidgeting'. He tried to understand when Steve described sensory overloads to him, and though he couldn't relate he accommodated Steve as much as he could.

Steve was frighteningly smart and picked up on every social cue he found, organizing them into a mental flowchart, assuming that this was what everyone did. But for most of his childhood he saw himself as less smart because Bucky seemed to be able to tell him things that he somehow still missed.

"Well how the fuck am I supposed to know that if they don't give any indication of being sarcastic?"

"Because it's not sarcasm, Steve... It's just- talking shop. A fake nice word, just because."

"How am I supposed to tell the difference?"

"Well, you just do. I don't know how you could... consciously do it."

By the miracle of God (and Bucky) he pushes through Eugenics era until 1943.

The Serum brings color to his eyes and more sound to his bad ear.

And he hates it.

But what's new is how much more physical energy he has to mask it.

It feels comparatively better to be able to mask without getting exhausted so fast, so he assumes his 'weirdness' has been cured and goes to war. In his line of work, however, he never gets a day's rest for his brain that craved routine, and because of how he's now able to push the feeling deep down and cover it up, Bucky can hardly recognize him.

And when he's out of the ice, his brain is turned to mush at having to learn new cues along with being autistic but anyone in that situation would have found it as difficult, so he passes it off.

One day he sees one of the people at Sam's VA talked about how their autism shaped their experience of PTSD differently, and Steve did the customary google search to learn more about it.

It said 'can't make eye contact'. But he knew the correct ratio of eye contact / looking away and what part of the eye he could look at so that it wouldn't drive him mad.

It said 'sensory issues' and he felt bad for those who actually had it because that must be horrible.

'Black and White thinking' okay but that doesn't mean- but see, he did know that illegal things weren't necessarily bad, right? He was ready to accept the criminality of something if it was a means to a moral end. And maybe there were some things that he could not see any nuance in but there were so many things he could. He couldn't have believed in Bucky if his thinking was Black and White right?

'Lack of empathy' No. Steve didn't understand people's feelings immediately, but he always logically guessed when they needed help. He kept note of the things that people found comforting so that he could be of comfort when they were down. He was empathetic, right?

He knew he wasn't autistic. (spoiler alert, he's just reading the symptoms from an outside perspective)

It's when he starts following more and more autistic creators that he felt less wrong for those weird things he did as a kid. He chuckles nervously scrolling through the tiktoks like "Ha ha why are ya'll so relatable"

He's not immune to the stigma but comes to terms with it. It feels a lot like how he came to terms with being queer. He's even surprised when he realizes that he was also wrongly assuming that it was gone because of the serum when it just became more manageable (for others) when he did.

Bucky listens like he always did when Steve explains things to him. And after a long while of living his truth with Bucky, Steve gets more comfortable describing himself as autistic to other people as well.

He starts experimenting with stimming, which already feels MILES better than forcing himself into a 'calm' and steady Captain's body language. Once he retires after Endgame, he surrounds himself with comfort and accommodations in his apartment and builds a routine he can finally be at peace with.