#mostly sad about stuff getting lost and i have no way of getting it back like pics and other stuff but yeah idk i feel very materialistic

[fivefeetfangirl]

'Babe are you okay you haven't done your 91w posting today'

HSJDHSJDH NOO 😭😭😭😭😭

my phone shut down and wont work so i spent the whole day in the car NOT reading 91w like i wanted to. im not kidding i spent almost 10 hours in a car WITHOUT 91W!!! my hands are shaking i need to read

[fictionstudent]

How to pull off descriptions

New authors always describe the scene and place every object on the stage before they press the play button of their novels. And I feel that it happens because we live in a world filled with visual media like comics and films, which heavily influence our prose.

In visual media, it’s really easy to set the scene—you just show where every object is, doesn’t matter if they’re a part of the action about to come or not. But prose is quite different from comics and films. You can’t just set the scene and expect the reader to wait for you to start action of the novel. You just begin the scene with action, making sure your reader is glued to the page.

And now that begs the question—if not at the beginning, where do you describe the scene? Am I saying you should not use descriptions and details at all? Hell naw! I’m just saying the way you’re doing it is wrong—there’s a smarter way to pull off descriptions. And I’m here to teach that to you.

***

#01 - What are descriptions?

Let’s start with the basics—what are descriptions? How do you define descriptions? Or details, for that matter? And what do the words include?

Descriptions refer to… descriptions. It’s that part of your prose where you’re not describing something—the appearance of an object, perhaps. Mostly, we mean scene-descriptions when we use the term, but descriptions are more than just scene-descriptions.

Descriptions include appearances of characters too. Let’s call that character-descriptions.

Both scene-descriptions and character-descriptions are forms of descriptions that we regularly use in our prose. We mostly use them at the beginning of the scene—just out of habit.

Authors, especially the newer ones, feel that they need to describe each and every nook and cranny of the place or character so they can be visualized clearly by their readers, right as the authors themselves visualized them. And they do that at the start of the scene because how can you visualize a scene when you don’t know how the scene looks first.

And that’s why your prose is filled with how the clouds look or what lights are on the room before you even start with the dialogues and action. But the first paragraph doesn’t need to be a simple scene-description—it makes your prose formulaic and predictable. And boring. Let me help you with this.

***

#02 - Get in your narrator’s head

The prose may have many MCs, but a piece of prose only has a single narrator. And these days, that’s mostly one of the characters of your story. Who uses third-person omniscient narrator these days anyway? If that’s you, change your habits.

Anyway, know your narrator. Flesh out their character. And then internalize them—their speech and stuff like that. Internalize your narrator to such an extent that you can write prose from their point-of-view.

Now, I don’t mean to say that only your narrator should be at the center of the scene—far from it. What I mean is you should get into your narrator’s head.

You do not describe a scene from the eyes of the author—you—but from the eyes of the narrator. You see from their eyes, and understand what they’re noticing. And then you write that.

Start your scene with what the narrator is looking at.

For example,

The dark clouds had covered the sky that day. The whole classroom was in shades of gray—quite unusual for someone like Sara who was used to the sun. She felt the gloom the day had brought with it—the gloom that no one else in her class knew of.

She never had happy times under the clouds like that. Rain made her sad. Rain made her yearn for something she couldn’t put into words. What was it that she was living for? Money? Happiness?

As she stared at the sky through the window, she was lost in her own quiet little corner. Both money and happiness—and even everything else—were temporary. All of it would leave her one day, then come back, then leave, then come back, like the waves of an ocean far away from any human civilization in sight.

All of it would come and go—like rain, it’d fall on her, like rain, it’d evaporate without proof.

And suddenly, drops of water began hitting the window.

You know it was a cloudy day, where it could rain anytime soon. You know that for other students, it didn’t really matter, but Sara felt really depressed because of the weather that day. You know Sara was at the corner, dealing with her emotions alone.

It’s far better than this,

The dark clouds covered the sky that day. It could rain anytime soon.

From her seat at the corner of the room, Sara stared at the sky that made everything gray that day. She…

The main reason it doesn’t work is that you describe the scene in the first paragraph, but it’s devoid of any emotions. Of any flavor. It’s like a factual weather report of the day. That’s what you don’t want to do—write descriptions in a factual tone.

If you want to pull off the prior one, get to your narrator’s head. See from their eyes, think from their brain. Understand what they’re experiencing, and then write that experience from their POV.

Sara didn’t care what everyone was wearing—they were all probably in their school uniforms, obviously, so I didn’t describe that. Sara didn’t focus on how big the classroom was, or how filled, or what everybody was doing. Sara was just looking at the clouds and the clouds alone, hearing everybody just living their normal days, so I mentioned just those things.

As the author, you need to understand that only you, the author are the know-it-all about the scene, not your narrator. And that you’re different from your narrator.

Write as a narrator, not as an author.

***

#03 - Filler Words

This brings me to filler words. Now, hearing my advice, you might start writing something like this,

Sarah noticed the dark clouds through the window. She saw that they’d saturated the place gray.

Fillers words like “see”, “notice”, “stare”, “hear” should be ignored. But many authors who begin writing from the POV of the characters start using these verbs to describe what the character is experiencing.

But remember, the character is not cognizant of the fact that they’re seeing a dark cloud, just that it’s a dark cloud. You don’t need these filler words—straight up describe what the character is seeing, instead of describing that the character is seeing.

Just write,

There were dark clouds on the other end of the window, which saturated the place gray.

Sarah is still seeing the clouds, yeah. But we’re looking from her eyes, and her eyes ain’t noticing that she’s noticing the clouds.

It’s kinda confusing, but it’s an important mistake to avoid. Filler words can really make your writing sound more amateurish than before and take away the experience of the reader, because the reader wants to see through the narrator’s eyes, not that the narrator is seeing.

***

#04 - Characters

Character-descriptions are a lot harder to pull off than scene-descriptions. Because it’s really confusing to know when to describe them, their clothing, their appearances, and what to tell and what not to.

For characters, you can give a full description of their looks. Keep it concise and clear, so that your readers can get a pretty good idea of the character with so few words that they don’t notice you’ve stopped action for a while.

Or can show your narrator scanning the character, and what they noticed about them.

Both these two tricks only work when a character is shown first time to the readers. After that, you don’t really talk about their clothing or face anymore.

Until there’s something out of the ordinary about your character.

What do I mean by that? See, you’ve described the face and clothes of the character, and the next time they appear, the reader is gonna imagine the character in a similar set of clothes, with the same face and appearance that they had the first time. Therefore, any time other than the first, you don’t go into detail about the character again. But, if something about your character is out of ordinary—there are bruises on their face, scars, or a change in the way they dress—describe it to the reader. That’s because your narrator may notice these little changes.

***

#05 - Clothing

Clothing is a special case. Some new authors describe the clothes of the characters when they’re describing the character every time the reader sees them. So, I wanna help you with this.

Clothing can be a way to show something about your character—a character with a well-ironed business suit is gonna be different from a character with tight jeans and baggy t-shirt. Therefore, only use clothing to tell something unique about the character.

Refrain from describing the clothing of characters that dress like most others. Like, in a school, it’s obvious that all characters are wearing school uniforms. Also, a normal teenage boy may wear t-shirts and denim jeans. If your character is this, no need to describe their clothing—anything the reader would be imagining is fine.

Refrain from describing the clothing of one-dimensional side-characters—there’s a high chance you’ve not really created them well enough that they have clothing that differs from the expectations of the readers. We all know what waiters wear, or what a college guy who was just passing by in the scene would be wearing.

You may describe the clothing of the important character in the story, but only in the first appearance. After that, describe their clothes only if the clothes seem really, really different from the first time. And stop describing their clothes if you’ve set your character well enough in the story that your readers know what to expect from them in normal circumstances—then, describe clothes only when they’re really, really different from their usual forms of clothing.

***

#06 - Conclusion

I think there was so much I had to say in this article, but I didn’t do a good job. However, I said all that I wanted to say. I hope you guys liked the article and it helps you in one way or the other.

And please subscribe if you want more articles like this straight in your inbox!

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown! Neglected! Meta! Reader x Yandere! Batfam

Part Four

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven

Warning: Obessive behavior, Yandere tendencies, su*c*de/death.

A/N: Finally adding warning labels. We’re getting somewhere. I’ve had some of this written out, but had to add some stuff in to drive it home. Reader’s coping skills are failing, but everyone’s starting to get obsessive. Also, I’ve been fighting myself on drawing art for this. (I’m a bit out of practice.)

Reader has basically called befriending Damian and Jason a lost cause.

Bruce still avoids reader. And, everyone else is still busy with what Reader assumes is Batwork. (Which is fine, Reader is fine. It’s not like they’re stuck in the manor pacing the halls every damn day.)

Cass and Duke’s get back from their respective missions. They weren’t gone too long, but they’re come back a bit roughed up. They debrief with Bruce and then have to go back to being civilians.

Reader is waiting to comfort them. Not to confront them. Reader’s more concerned with how Duke has a mild limp and how Cass’s knuckles have some bruising than them ditching. Plus, reader is still not completely sure that her family is Gotham’s vigilantes. They need to confirm.

But, Duke and Cass both appreciate Reader checking on them and not asking questions. Cass suspects Reader suspects something, judging by Reader’s body language. But, it’s nice for someone who’s naturally soft to be soft with you.

Duke appreciates how Reader treats him so, normally. In a way it reminds him of his childhood, when things were easier. He has a normal friend now, completely mostly free of Gotham’s crazy.

Reader is happy their back, but disappointed that they won’t be going to the school gala. In fact, a few family members make comments about how it sounds like a waste of time.

Bruce, however, is actually happy Reader is excited. And, Reader gets even more excited when one of their new friends ask to be their date. Reader’s date is so genuinely excited about going to this Gala with Reader. (Uh-oh, that’s not good.)

Some of Reader’s other friends, the more haughty and wealthy ones, tell Reader that they should’ve picked someone more… refined. Which Reader defends that their Date is perfectly sweet and good looking to boot.

But, this leads Reader to decide not to tell anyone in the family about their date. They don’t want to hear the same thing from their Gotham family. Reader does inform BFF, younger brother, and Nana of their date. For some reason, BFF was a bit disgruntled, and even Nana tried to convince them it was probably best not to go. Younger Brother was encouraging reader to have fun. (But he was whispering into the phone, and asking Reader if he could come visit them soon. Please. People are acting weird here. Is everything okay, do you need me to come home. No. No. Don’t— It’s fine. I just wanna come visit you.)

But, reader was committed to going and enjoying their date and wearing their custom made outfit.

That night, Reader was given Bruce’s permission to get ready at one of their friends’ houses. Reader was practically spoiled by their friends, it was almost a bit overwhelming. Their date meet them at the Gala escorting them inside and having a wonderful time. (I hope it last. It’s not going to though. How sad.)

At the end of the night, their Date escorted them home. To end a near perfect night Reader got a kiss. A long and pretty heated kiss. Right in front of the Entrance camera.

Tim had pulled up the camera feed when Reader got home, at Bruce’s request, just to check on Reader. (He was going to do it anyway.) The entire family was winding down from Patrol in the Batcave when the feed came on. Leaving them all to get a front row seat to Reader’s little act of rebellion.

(That’s all this was, right. Just a little act of rebellion. This won’t happen again, obviously. They won’t fucking let it.)

Bruce is livid. It doesn’t help that Jason wolf-whistles to further enrage him. (Jason is making plans to break someone’s leg though. Possibly the Dates. How fucking dare they corrupt you, that’s his job.)

Stephane is honestly impressed, didn’t think Reader had it in them. (How cute! I wonder what we could get up to together.)

Duke, sweet Duke, didn’t want to see that. His (best) friend getting tongued down on camera. He’s going to need bleach and therapy. (Why would you do that? When you can just game with him. You’re his bro. Gross.)

Cassandra is… understanding. Reader has needs. Reader wants affection. That’s fine. But, not that one. Pick someone else. (Llet her pick, actually. You can’t read people like her, you need someone better. Someone you she can trust. She needs to approve of them first.)

Dick is more disapproving, but he understands. Still, this changes how he sees Reader. Sweet innocent helpless Reader has a wild side. (But still reader is clearly helpless, obviously they don’t know what they’re doing.)

It also changes how Barbara sees Reader. Or confirms. Barbara runs under the assumption that Reader is more like Bruce than anyone realizes. (She’s not wrong, but it’s not in the way she thinks.) Bruce is a bit of natural flirt, he just hides it in his ‘Brucie’ persona. Reader apparently takes after that. (Damian sure didn’t.)

Damian, is disgusted, disappointed, and disapproving. He doesn’t doubt Father will scold you, but your date needs to be dealt with and all other suitors as well. (He’ll take care of it. He’s your brother, that’s his job.)

Tim, however, is legitimately jealous. He wanted to see this side of reader first. He got a glimpse of it before, but he wants it for himself now that he sees the full thing. (Also, right in front of the camera? Did Reader know it was there? If they did, would they be okay with Tim filming them more? Just to observe, please.)

Tim immediately starts pulling up all the information he can about Reader’s date. Without Bruce’s prompting this time. Bruce does nod in approval before marching to the entrance. Intent on putting an end to this and giving Reader a firm talking to.

It goes, horribly. Date is forced to leave and Bruce tears into Reader. (What happened to the outfit I bought you? Why didn’t you tell me you had a date? I didn’t approve of this. I don’t care that you’re back on time or that you’re old enough, you’re my child! Mine! You get my approval first.)

Reader stays composed, barely. The good news is that the brutal scolding is the only consequence Reader faces. (Bruce is more upset about Reader not seeking his approval than doing something he disapproves of. He’s your father. He should have a damn say. Would you have done this to D̴̖̞͑̊̓a̷͎͗̇d̸̜͍̩̓̎d̸̪̩̟̆̎y̶̛̼̌? Why are you doing this to him?)

The bad news, Reader’s date’s life is over. With just a few clicks from Tim and approval from Bruce, Date’s family company falling apart. Reported to the government, lawsuits filed by third-parties. Hidden debts needing to be collected NOW. Any misfiled taxes? Found and reported. And, most importantly, all calls and ways for Date to contact reader again, blocked.

Socially and financially, Date’s life is ruined in less than twenty-four hours. Worst of all, Reader doesn’t know. They’re still on cloud nine about the night, despite Bruce’s lecture. But, come Sunday morning, two days later, things fall apart.

Date is reported dead. Apparent suic1de just the night before. The financial implosion of the family was named the apparent reason.

Reader is distraught, confused, and hurt. What happened? What’s going on? This can’t be happening. I don’t want to lose anymore people I care about. I don’t want to lose someone like Momma and Daddy again.

Reader’s Gotham friends console Reader, saying it’s not their fault. That Date struggled with thought before. Don’t blame yourself. (They weren’t worth your time.)

Surprisingly enough, it’s Dick that finds reader having a borderline breakdown.

Dick clings and coddles and coos, but this time. Reader clings back. Reader clings back tight. Desperate for comfort. Which is surprising for Dick.

Most of the family tends to brush off his attempts at comfort until they hit rock bottom. For once, this isn’t someone hitting rock bottom before they need him. This is someone that’s just genuinely sad and overwhelmed and needs wants him.

Dick also ran under the assumption that Reader was allergic to affection, like Damian and Bruce. But, apparently, that wasn’t the case. It’s a nice feeling. To have someone not fight him when he tries to be comforting. Someone who is happy to take it. Of course, he doesn’t stay long. Once Reader pulls themselves together he’s got to get back to Buldhaven, but this time he leaves a bit slower. (But, him leaving somehow makes Reader feel worse.)

[steddieas-shegoes]

that's what friends are for

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'enemies to lovers' rated t wc: 996 cw: mention of hospitals and injury, mentions of selling and using recreational drugs tags: enemies is more implied than anything, getting together, canon events happening in the background

------------------------------------

Somewhere along the way, Steve Harrington became Eddie’s number one customer.

It was mostly by accident, and Eddie should tell him to get lost and find another supplier, but he couldn’t.

Especially not after the last time they met up in the woods and Steve looked…haunted.

But Eddie wasn’t going to let Steve’s sad puppy dog eyes convince him that he was anything other than the asshole he’d always been.

Not even when he walked up to Steve furiously wiping tears off of his cheeks.

He cleared his throat awkwardly before sitting down, trying to avoid eye contact with the man who seemed to be trying to hide the fact that he’d been having any emotion at all.

“So, the usual today?” Eddie asked.

“Uh, you got anything stronger?”

Look, Eddie knew for a fact he had plenty of stronger stuff that he could overcharge Steve for, and Steve wouldn’t even bat an eye.

But he had a pretty strict rule of never selling the strong stuff to someone who didn’t pass the mental test. Someone who was crying did not pass the mental test.

“Nah, ran out. Got a new mix though, if you’re interested. Might help you sleep if that’s somethin’ you need.”

The dark circles under Steve’s eyes told him that was exactly what he needed, but Steve shrugged and acted like he was just here for fun.

Eddie didn’t care enough to push.

That’s what he told himself, anyway.

—----------

Steve looked like shit.

“You look like shit.”

Steve rolled his eyes. Or, well, eye. The other eye was swollen and bruised, probably hurt like hell.

“Thanks for the update,” Steve said.

“Don’t think weed’s gonna fix that,” Eddie said, not looking away from the cuts and scrapes along his cheek. “At least not the kind I have.”

Eddie looked down to see more cuts and bruises along his hands, and most shocking of all, a dull red line along both wrists.

Eddie’s brows raised as he looked back up at Steve.

“You, uh, you good?” He couldn’t help asking.

Anyone would be concerned to see these injuries on anyone, even the guy you definitely don’t like or have a crush on.

“Sure. Is $20 okay today? I can get you more for next time.”

“$20 is fine.”

$20 was technically $5 more than he would normally charge anyone who isn’t an ex-jock, so it’s not like he was doing Steve a favor.

Eddie watched Steve walk away with more questions than answers.

—-----------------

Robin Buckley was sitting next to Steve at the table, kicking her feet and rambling on about who knows what.

Steve wasn’t looking at her, but he could tell he was listening.

“I don’t usually like to be outnumbered, but something tells me I can handle myself if Buckley decides to throw a punch,” Eddie said as he walked towards the table.

Robin suddenly froze and tilted her head.

“Steve, why is Eddie here? You said we were meeting a friend.”

“Is that what we call buying drugs from someone these days?” Eddie laughed. “Times have changed.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but couldn’t quite hide a small smile.

Eddie tried not to feel flustered about making Steve smile.

“Well, I see you more than most people, so I’d say we’re friend-adjunct,” Steve said, handing over the usual $20.

“He means friend-adjacent,” Robin added, not unkindly.

Eddie nodded once.

“Well, if that’s all, your friend has another friend to meet behind the McDonald’s. All good here?”

“All good. Thanks.”

“Anything for a friend,” he winked.

—-------------------

He was pushing Steve against a wall, broken bottle to his neck.

“This doesn’t seem very friendly,” Steve said breathlessly.

Eddie held him there for a moment, then let out a small laugh, slowly releasing his grip.

“I have to be careful about who I consider a friend right now, man,” Eddie said, ignoring Dustin’s confused voice yelling behind him.

“We’re here to help. As friends.”

Steve’s eyes were big, that look that left Eddie wondering how he’d gone from hating him so much to wanting to understand everything about him.

“Not sure if you can help me.”

“We’re gonna.”

Steve sounded so sure. Eddie had no option but to trust him.

—-----------------------

“Hey, Wayne. Anything new today?” Steve’s voice whispered when he entered the room.

Eddie’s eyes were closed, but he wasn’t asleep.

They’d lowered his dose of pain meds slowly over the last 48 hours and he was barely getting any sleep as he adjusted to the constant aches of the bites.

“He’s tired. Nothin’ new, though. You okay?”

“Yeah. You got a shift?”

“Yep. Should be back by lunch tomorrow.”

“See you then.”

Eddie didn’t know how it happened, but Steve trading shifts with Wayne was an everyday occurrence.

They got to know each other, relaxing more as the days wore on, no end in sight for Eddie’s hospitalization.

“You know, I’m okay alone for a bit,” Eddie said as he opened his eyes.

“Nah, I’d rather be here.”

“Really?”

“That’s what friends are for, right?” 

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.” He frowned. “Is that what we are? Friends?”

Steve slowly reached over and grasped his hand. 

“Is that all we are?”

Eddie thought back to how he used to dread running into Steve at school, mostly out of his own fear that he would harbor a crush on him. He thought about how he wondered why the boy who seemed untouchable in high school looked so fragile last summer and how he could help. He thought about the guy who didn’t have to risk his life to save him from monsters made sure everyone was safe so he could rescue him.

“I don’t think friends sit in the hospital for days like this,” he finally settled on.

“I don’t think friends have crushes on their friends for years, either.”

If Steve didn’t follow those words with a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, he probably wouldn’t have believed them. 

[ladykailitha]

Paper Hearts Part 5

I have no restraint. I have NO restraint. I HAVE NO RESTRAINT!!! So guess who starting writing a SEQUEL to this because she was feeling too sad to write Sweet Home Indiana? Yup! I would apologize, but this story is too cute for words.

We have a mild panic attack about the ending of the chapter from Steve, Eddie's plan, and Steve accepting an offer that made mostly in jest, but also in deep earnest.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

TAG LIST IS CLOSED!!!

But if the people on my list that haven't interacted on my stuff lately don't reply by Sunday slots may open up. So don't despair just yet if you want to be on the list and can't.

****

Steve banged his head on his locker in frustration. Why did he do that? Why did he tell Eddie he was interested in boys, too? Why did he trust the other boy to have his back? Especially when no one else seemed to.

He sighed.

He wrenched open his locker and a little pink heart fluttered to the floor. He frowned as he picked it up.

They weren’t going to hand out the hearts until Valentine’s Day so what was this then?

-Stevie

I like the way you’re kind even when it doesn’t benefit you.

Kas

Steve blinked down at the little heart in confusion. It wasn’t the exactly the same color as the hearts they were going to give out for the holiday. But it was close. He rubbed his thumb over the sender’s name.

Kas.

He knew it wasn’t a real name, having recently poured over the yearbook. So it had to be a reference to something, but what he didn’t know. He stuck it in his jacket pocket and grabbed what he needed for his next class, vowing to worry about it later.

As he sat in his chemistry class waiting for it to start he pulled it out of his pocket to look at it again. The pen was red ink and bold. Steve found himself smiling at the strange little pink heart.

Suddenly it was ripped out of his hand.

His head snapped up to see Tommy H. standing there with it in his hand. “Someone is sending Harrington Valentine’s hearts?”

“Give it back, Tommy,” Steve growled. “It’s none of your business. Not anymore.”

Tommy looked him in the eye before tossing it to the ground and walking off. “Whatever.”

Steve bent over to pick it up.

“Some girl named Kassy or whatever,” Tommy was telling Nicole. “Could be anyone from the younger grades.”

“I suppose so,” she said, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. “But anyone with sense would know he’s the plague now.”

Tina rolled her eyes. “Just because he refuses to suck either of you two off doesn’t mean he’s still not the hottest guy in school.”

Tommy rounded on her and called her a bitch.

She just scoffed and swung back around just as the teacher walked into the room. The tardy bell rang and he called the class to order, effectively squashing all gossip.

Steve ducked his head to hide his smile. He might feel a bit bitter that it was her party that Nancy threw their relationship in his face at, but it wasn’t her fault his girlfriend had gotten so pissed drunk that she lost her ironclad control. And right now he was feeling especially grateful to her for that comment.

He managed to get through his class just from riding that high alone.

His last class was algebra and it really should have been made illegal by now. The way the numbers and letters seemed to float off of the page as he struggled to parse their meaning. He just had to pass one quarter of this shit and he could graduate.

So he put his head down to learn and just suffer through it.

After school, he got to his locker and knelt down to open it.

Again a pink heart fluttered out of it. But this time it had a couple of friends. Steve stuck them in his jacket pocket again and exchanged books. He grabbed his English and history homework so that he could get them done for tomorrow.

He opened the back door of his car and threw in his backpack. He went to open his door when Eddie was suddenly at his side.

He leaned up against the door, preventing Steve from opening it.

“So the king swings for both teams?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Steve looked around, but they were alone for the most part, so he just shrugged. “Some guys are hot and for some reason I can’t fathom, I trust you not have it all over the school by lunch tomorrow.”

Eddie chuckled and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I wouldn’t do that to ya.”

“Yeah and why would that be?” Steve asked turning around and sticking his hands in his front pockets.

“That would be because it would be hypocritical of me to go spreading around the school someone likes guys,” he said, bumping their shoulders together.

Steve looked at him for a long time before he nodded. “You know by now I don’t put much stock into rumors. I did that once and got my shit rocked for it. Lesson learned, man.”

“I heard about the infamous Byers left hook,” Eddie agreed. “That was some pretty major shit rocking.”

The jock rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure he was my first concussion.”

The older boy looked up at the sky as he thought about it and then nodded. “Billy Hargrove would be round two, I’m assuming?”

Steve nodded and then threw his head back. “This year has gone from bad to worse and I’m barely keeping my head above water.”

Eddie hummed his agreement. It really has seemed like Steve couldn’t catch a break. “I feel that. I’m really struggling this year. Last year I didn’t graduate because I so focused on getting out of here, making it with my music that I forgot the promise I made to my mom that I would. Graduate I mean. But this year is just hell.”

“That sucks, Eds,” he agreed.

“You think you’re going to graduate?”

“God, I hope so,” Steve murmured, collapsing against the side of his car. “I just want to get out of this town.”

Eddie chuckled and shook his head. “Where would you even go, man?”

“I’d pick a direction and just drive for as long as I could,” he admitted softly. “I just need to be as far away from this place as I can.”

The metalhead nodded. “If we both graduate we should hop into my van and just run for the coast.”

Steve smiled fondly. “I think I’d like that.”

Eddie pushed himself off the car and then waved Steve goodbye.

The younger boy got into his car with a sigh of relief. Not only did Eddie promise not to out him, he came out to Steve, too. Now it was mutually assured destruction.

Steve smiled and started the car for home. Maybe this year was starting to get a little better.

****

Eddie shoved his hands in his back pockets as he made his way to his van. He didn’t know what possessed him to ask Steve to runaway with him or what possessed Steve to agree but it left a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest.

He hauled himself into the van and sat there for a moment just thinking about it. Of course that meant graduating himself, so he would have to focus on that. His van roared to life and he drove off.

It took him a couple of tries but he finally found the construction paper he needed. He had even found some black construction paper that he was going to use to make little paper bats to tape on the inside of his locker to make it less miserable.

Especially as he was told he couldn’t have his metal band posters up in there. They were too “evil” and “Satanic” and he should be more “Christ like” as if they were epitome of Christian virtue with all the hate they had for anyone not like them.

But Eddie got down to work and started making as many pink hearts as he could. He had thought briefly about adding a couple of red hearts in the mix, but he thought that was a step too far. He didn’t want to get Steve’s hopes up that he had multiple crushes on him if that wasn’t true.

He still planned on giving Steve his one red heart that he had bought. That wasn’t in question. He had already filled it out and returned it to the great big baskets that had been in the main hall.

It simply read:

Stevie,

You make being in this town worth living in,

Love,

Kas

He let out a slow shuddering breath. That was one of the scariest things he had to do since choosing to live with an uncle he had only met twice his entire life over being in the system. He knew his life was infinitely greater being with Uncle Wayne and he hoped this would yield a similar result.

Because he had made a promise and with all signs pointing toward Steve at least being receptive to a date, he had to shoot his shot and hope for the best.

He had made roughly fifty or so of the pink hearts and set about dividing them into four piles. With Jeff, Gareth, and Brian offering to help with the friendship hearts he wanted to make sure everyone got a few of them. Plus it made it easier to come up with things. Because even if they came up with similar ideas, they at least would be phrased slightly different so Steve wouldn’t figure it out.

He also had the idea of using pseudonyms so that it wasn’t all anonymous and initials, though there would some of those too.

But it was time for band practice, so he gathered up his things and the hearts and trotted off to his van, a wave and goodbye to Wayne on his way out.

****

Steve finally opened the other three hearts. Two were anonymous but the third surprisingly was from Tina.

It read it in the tiniest print that was still legible:

Steve,

I know we’re supposed to turn these in or whatever,

But I just wanted to say you’re still A-OK in my book.

-Tina

He blushed. That was nice of her and after she stuck up for him in chemistry, he was feeling a little better about himself.

The other two were just as sweet if a tad unusual in their delivery. The first one said:

Steve,

I’m sorry you lost your crown,

you kept the bullies from being their worst selves.

And the other read:

Steve,

You are a good dude.

Sorry people are shit right now.

Steve shook his head. They were well-tended, he had no doubt but they were odd. Like they were trying to find something nice to say and didn’t know how to word it.

Which, fair.

He knew he had a hard time coming up with complements for the twenty girls he’d picked out for his little project. He had to make sure the message wasn’t creepy or would come across as stalker-y.

He smiled down at the messages. He pulled out a little notebook that he had used to collect all the little things that the kids had given him over the past couple years and put the hearts on their own little page. He carefully put the book back, hidden between two textbooks from his freshman year.

“Steven!” his mom called. “We’re home!”

“Coming, Mom!” he cried, hurrying down the stairs.

****

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: Closed

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @slv-333 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

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@ravenfrog @dauntlessdiva @thelittleclare @steddieyourself @dam28lh

[shaunamilfman]

Dating Ghost!Jackie Headcanons

pairing: Jackie Taylor x r note: I'm not sure what this is either 🤷

Jackie being a pain in your ass beyond the grave. maybe not getting on with her super well while she was alive, so while her death was sad, it wasn’t nearly as emotionally devastating as it was for Shauna or someone else. so when you suddenly start seeing Jackie standing behind Shauna and trying to get her attention as she sobs over Jackie’s corpse, you wonder why you of all people would “hallucinate” her.

she finally notices you can see her when you can’t quite muffle your laugh at some petty comment she makes as the girls start carrying her body off to the meatshed. her eyes immediately narrow in on you while you’re just standing like a deer in the headlights.

just thinking about Shauna out there sobbing and crying in the meatshed with Jackie's corpse while Jackie's screaming in your ear because you won’t respond to her and she knows your ass can see her. at the top of her fucking lungs like a damn toddler. keeps switching into songs that give Crystal and Misty a run for their money on being annoying. holding a pillow over your head and groaning to drown her out, and Lottie’s trying to put a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, thinking it's hunger pain or something.

she doesn’t talk as much as she did before—not that she ever really talked to you all that much to begin with. Jackie stares after Shauna a lot, following her around and trying fruitlessly to get her to hear her. she’s quiet a lot now, but if she’s not at Shauna’s side, she’s at yours. 

you finally give up and start answering her whenever you’re mostly alone, claiming it’s just because you’ve accepted that you’re crazy now—though it’s mostly because she just looks so damn sad all the time. she brightens up a lot after this, following you like a lost puppy as you find the emptiest corners of the room to sit in. the other girls sometimes catch you talking to yourself, but with how everyone else is doing, they don’t bother to be concerned about it.

makes it her mission to annoy you as much as humanly possible, commenting on every little thing you’re doing like she’s a game show host. if you have to listen to Jackie narrate the way you eat one more time, you might just join her. always finds the worst time to jump out at you, giggling as she makes you look insane for screaming in shock in the middle of the cabin.

Jackie knocks stuff over whenever the other girls start talking shit about Shauna’s behavior in the meatshed. she doesn’t talk a lot about what Shauna does there, but she always looks strangely flattered when she comes back.

keeps you up to date on all the little drama’s going on in the cabin that you don’t witness. there’s literally no stopping her from eavesdropping on conversations and giving you a play-by-play as they happen. sometimes you just hear a dramatic gasp as her ghostly ass is skipping over to you to tell you about it.

bullies you into giving some of your food to Shauna. Shauna looks at you like you’re crazy but eagerly accepts it all the same. Jackie is standing there looking so proud of herself, like she’s the one that’s going to be starving and not you.

you have weird dreams almost every night. they aren’t unpleasant, just a little strange. they’re always about Jackie, always in places you think she would’ve enjoyed. walking around the mall, passing the ball around on the field, that sort of thing. you don’t think much of it until Jackie mentions something in passing one day about it.

guilt trips you into doing things for her all the time. “Do you remember that time you let me go outside and die in the snow?” and then “yeah, that’s what I thought.” when you roll your eyes and go do it.

thinking about Jackie’s emotions bleeding over onto you. Jackie’s always felt everything so strongly, and this only seems to get worse after she’s died. you can literally feel her longing so strongly that it’ll wake you up in the middle of the night, just to find Jackie staring at you with the softest little look. you aren’t sure how to feel about it at first, but it’s better than feeling her grief.

who’s going to tell the dead girl she can’t have a little crush after all? besides, it’s not like you’re uninterested: Jackie’s the prettiest girl you’ve ever met. it’s a strange dynamic, but it’s not like either of you have a lot of options out here.

just as possessive, even in death. starts getting incredibly jealous whenever you talk to someone who’s alive. Nat’s asking if you’ve seen her headband and the fucking door slams open against the wall. you weren’t even aware she could do something like that. you can feel her eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as the whole room starts to get cold if anyone goes near you besides Shauna.

she always tries to touch you, but most of the time you can’t feel it. the only time you can is when she gets particularly emotional. a hand closing around your wrist and almost pulling you away when she gets particularly jealous about something, a finger brushing away your tears when you can’t help but cry, etc.

Jackie can’t really do much else, so she resorts to a lot of compliments. she compliments your three layers of random shirts like it was an actual fashion choice, and you finally have to draw the line. just thinking about Jackie complimenting you and then sitting cross-legged in front of you like “and now me,” all expectant.

[k0yaz]

UGGHHHH hear me out on toxic Yuri with acheron or Topaz like for Topaz it might be a little hard to see but basically she entered the IPC for her own survival. in a voiceline she said "my survival mattered more than my freedom" and as sad as that sounds, imagine her sweetheart (non binary idk preferably female) is back on her planet and her family was killed by the IPC and she can't stand the sight of Topaz anymore because in their eyes Topaz is a traitor for joining the IPC and they're this sad gay couple anyone would cry and throw up at the sight of like this big sloppy mess.

For acheron, I think we can have like acheron travelling and reader crashing into her no matter whag planet who are at each other's throats all the time (one-sided because Ion think acheron would gaf) but reader hates acheron and acheron doesn't go slicey slicey on reader because she wants to keep them around. idk maybe she gets amusement seeing their hateful eyes.

This isn't even toxic Yuri but I BEG YOU WHAHHWHWHHA

ignore this if your uncomfortable lol

I can’t.

Pairing(s): acheron x fem!reader

CW: mostly js hating and stuff, potential hate love relationship idk im just bullshitting warnings to fill this space, oh and Acheron lowkey scares reader by almost going slicey slicey but she doesn’t even notice it lol

A/N: someone get her google maps anyway I love acheron sm swawswwjsjsjs

Your muscles tensed up as a familiar face entered your view, her deadpan eyes locking onto you the moment she saw you. Using your free hand, you drew your hand to your eyes, attempting to shield the side of your head and avert your gaze from the Galaxy Ranger.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The woman you despise deeply, the one you couldn’t escape no matter where you went.

Who else would it be? None other than Acheron herself.

Without hesitation, you found yourself furiously making your way to her, and your face scrunched up at the sight of her. Acheron stared back at you, her gaze hollow and emotionless as if she was waiting for you to say something. God. That stupid, unfeeling look ticked you off so damn much.

“What the hell are you doing here? Did you get lost looking for your hotel room again?”

You snapped at her, face flushed from how irritated you were upon seeing her again.

Acheron only let out a sigh in response, closing her eyes briefly before resting a hand on her hip.

“I was just minding my own business. I don’t understand what got you so irritated. Do you seriously hate me so much that you have to yell at me when you see me?”

Her tone was nonchalant and insouciant, which pissed you off even more. Why wasn’t she bothered at all? Why wasn’t she matching your energy and at your throat too? The fact that she didn’t exactly care about how much you hated her just made your blood boil, it made you feel so small and petty every damn time. Without thinking, you spat at her again, this time your words more harsh as if they had been laced with poison.

“Well why do you have to be everywhere, huh?! Every time I hope to get away from you I can’t! So why? Are you following me or some shit?!” you almost near yelled, brows furrowing and your eyelids lowering slightly.

You slam a fist onto Acheron’s shoulder, jabbing it slightly as you stare down.

You shouldn’t haves done that.

Your eyes widened, and you felt your stomach tighten as your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes trailed down to the end of her hair, heart pounding in your chest from fear as you saw a small fade of white at the tips.

It was barely there, almost not at all, yet you saw it. No doubt.

That alone made you remember, no matter how much you hated her, she was still an emanator of nihility. She could slice you apart and turn you into nothing but a memory if she wanted to.

However when you looked up, you ended up jumping back and away a good 4 feet from her stunned at what you saw.

Was Acheron- smiling a bit?

Your scornful gaze was still glued to your face as you stared her down, confused as to why she smiled for a moment and why she didn’t just kill you on the spot.

“I don’t hate you, hope you know that. But it’s…slightly entertaining to see your expression.”

She paused, taking a moment to think up of something else she wanted to say.

“And I’d prefer to keep you around, honestly.”

Acheron remarked, turning her back to you as she walked away and out of your sight. You still stared off into the distance with a puzzled expression, before running your hand through your hair and closing your eyes.

What- just happened?

traitor.

Pairing(s): topaz x fem!reader

CW: tragic lovers obviously, reader losing her shit, topaz gets fucking slapped lol idk what else to put here I hope yall know on sfw works there’s usually no warnings, um screaming crying throwing up idk gay ppl wowowow

A/N: meowmoew

“I’m sorry I-“

“stop. Just…stop. Okay..?”

You snapped, bringing your hand to crease your forehead and lowering your fingers down to the bridge of your nose near the corners of your eyes. Topaz could only stare back at you with a dejected expression while averting her gaze shamefully.

“It was for my survival…my love, please. I didn’t mean-“

You cut her off again, fighting back the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. You choked back a sob as you spoke in a pained voice.

“And yet you still joined the IPC? Did you even think to consider how I would feel?”

A quiet sob escaped your lips as your breath hitched and got in your throat. Within moments tears were flowing down your face, crying uncontrollably with your teeth pressed together and small hiccups spilling out as you buried your face into your hands.

“…you didn’t have to see the bodies of your family, knowing that your lover is the reason for it.”

Topaz could only watch, heartbroken by your sorrow—and it was all because of her. She reached out, attempting to place a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t touch me! You fucking traitor!”

You yelled, breathing heavily from your sobbing, along with your nose being tinted red and the dried tear cracks down your face being run over by new tears.

Your hands balled up into fists as Topaz stared down at the ground shamefully, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth as to not cry herself.

“(Name). Please. Let me explain.”

She breathed out, trying to keep her own composure. She stepped forward, placing her hands on either side of your head, her thumb brushing along your cheek.

“You have to understand…my survival mattered more than my freedom-“

A slap echoed throughout the vicinity all of a sudden. Topaz stumbled back, the hand that was placed on your cheek now shifted over to her own, grasping her reddening skin. Her eyes widened for several seconds as she processed what happened, breathing quickening slightly. Her own beloved just slapped her.

It was obvious now. You didn’t want anything to do with her anymore.

Topaz quickly recovered from the slap and sighed, her cheek still a blistering red. She stepped forward, cupping your face again and placing her forehead against yours. She grasped your head firmly, fingers tightening as she tried fighting back her own tears.

“I get it. I’m a traitor. But I’m not a traitor when it comes to us, just know that before you go. I still love you.”

She sighed, pressing herself against you more until your noses were touching, and closing her eyes. You could only gasp from the sobs clawing at your throat in response, barely able to form a coherent sentence until Topaz walked away.

You fell to your knees when she was gone, being able to do nothing but cry. And just like that. The love of your life was gone. You wanted nothing to do with her. The pangs of regret ate away at you as you wanted nothing more than to just forgive her and lay in her arms as you mourned your family.

You still loved her. So much.

But you just couldn’t.

You couldn’t be with a traitor.

A/N: AGAGAGAGSGA UR AN ANGEL FOR SEEING MY POST COMPLAINING ABOUT NOT GETTING WLW OR HSR RAHAHAHAHBDBDBDBD

anyway I have my final tomorrow goodbye yall I’m going back to the dead

@qwnelisa

[realcube]

NEED you to write more for kiyoomi i am BEGGING

SEA STONE ☽｡⋆

synopsis ☀ you're at the beach with sakusa and play a little prank on him!

tags/tws ☀ omi being sassy smh, mentions of drowning, sappyyyy, timeskip but sfw, maybe ooc idk & fluff

wc ☀ 1.4k

you ask sakusa to go to the beach with you and he agrees. it's that simple.

had atsumu or hinata witnessed that, they'd likely think you used some sort of black magic on him or a mind control spell. and in a way, you do have him in an — almost supernatural — trance. he's utterly bewitched by you.

so if going to beach is what it took to see even a glimpse of that pretty smile of yours, it was infinitely worth. although, as one may imagine, he's not a big fan of the beach. sand clinging to body, blistering heat beating down on him, limited space packed with sweaty bodies, amateaur volleyball; it's all just very unpleasant.

but he finds a way to deal with it. he rolls out his towel and umbrella, to protect him from the sun, and settles down with a good book. though he's only partially reading it, he's mostly watching you frolic through the water and mess around with the damp sand. you were so playful and fun, it enchanted him. occasionally you'd run back up to where he is to plant a kiss on his cheek or ask him to reapply sunscreen on your back, that was his favourite part.

you understood sakusa's adversity to the ocean — there's definitely some gross stuff in there — but you just loved swimming too much. gliding through the cool water, the seaweed tickling your skin and waves crashing gently against you. it's a once-in-a-year experience that you had to enjoy, but if sakusa didn't want to do it with you, that was alright, it was already sweet enough that he agreed to come with you. although he never outright said he didn't want to swim, you got that impression from the fact he was wearing an unbuttoned white shirt and matching trousers.

eventually, the sun began to cast an orange glow as it slowly set over the horizon, and many people had packed their things and left by now, so you figure it's about time you and sakusa do the same. as you're walking back towards him, you feel your ring slip off your finger a bit, but you promptly push it back on.

that is, until you have an idea.

a harmless prank, really. you take your ring off and slip it under the material of your top, then you rush over to sakusa with a frantic expression, to which he looks up with immediate concern.

" 'omi! i think i lost my ring in the ocean and i'm not sure what to do! i swear i had it on me when i came over here the las—"

sakusa hastily places his book down and stands up, resting a hand upon your wet shoulder and quickly interjecting, "don't worry, (y/n). we'll find it."

you nod while clutching your hand, your look downwards, which he assumes is out of shame but really you are trying to hide the evil smirk creeping onto your face.

"do you think it may be in the sand?" he asks, collecting the towel off of the ground to wrap up your poor, trembling figure.

you shake your head, "no, it probably slipped off while i was swimming."

sakusa sighs out of his nose. that is exactly what he didn't want to hear. "alright, honey." without another word, he relucantly starts making his way over to the shore, with you following suit.

just as he reaches it, he bites his lip, standing right before where the sea meets the sand, watching intently as the water spills forward against his toes. you stand behind him, snug in the towel, and prompt, "are we gonna look?"

he looks at you over his shoulder, with a dull glint in his eyes. the ocean is just so disgusting, filled with all sorts of creatures, and he loathed getting wet, it was such an annoyance. but seeing your sweet face, knowing your longing for something, what kind of husband would he be if he didn't at least try to help? he'd do anything to stop you from being sad. though he did momentarily consider perhaps just buying another ring.

without any further delay, sakusa puffed out his chest and rolled up his trousers to his knees and hesitantly stepped into the ocean, cringing at the feeling of sand between his toes. the contaminated water making contact with his pristine white trousers also killed him a little, but it's all worth it for you, to see that smile.

speaking off which, once he was knees-deep, he turned around to look and furrowed his brows when he noticed you hadn't entered yet, "(y/n). aren't you going to look with me?"

you shake your head, wearing a cheesy grin on your face that only confuses him more. "it's okay, kiyoomi. i was only kidding about my ring being lost. look, here it is." you pull it out from it's hiding place and slip it back onto your finger, "i just wanted to see if you would get into the water and help me look for it."

sakusa sighed, again. ususally something like this would piss him off, but you only amused him. "of course i would, (y/n). i'd do anything for you, i thought you knew that."

you blush a tad at your husband's kind words, then motion for him to come out of the water. "you're the best, omi. but you can get out of the water now."

he blinks, looking down at his feet sunk into the sand, "this isn't as bad as i thought. maybe next time we c—"

"no, seriously, omi, get out!—" you try to leap forward and grab his hand to pull him out but it's too late. the big wave you had seen rushing towards you came with such speed and ferocity that it knocked sakusa right off his feet, leading to him falling back into the water.

thankfully, you are able to grab his arm in time to help him upright again, so he isn't submerged for too long. and although some may say you just saved his life, he doesn't look awfully impressed with you after he gasps for air and wipes the salt water away from his eyes, with a single seaweed draped over his shoulder like a very ugly shawl.

fully soaked now, he grits, "let's just go."

rather unbothered by the tide, considering you were already wet from swimming, you nod sympathetically and lock arms with your boyfriend, guiding him back to your stuff while trying your best not to burst out laughing, "good idea."

he huffs and tosses a strand of dripping hair away from his face, "seems like i'm the only one who has those anymore."

"you've been spending too much time with atsumu. his attitude has really rubbed off on you." you titter, gathering all your stuff, "or maybe that wave knocked all the sense out of you."

"that might be true. the ocean does make people stupider, clearly." sakusa raises his eyebrows, watching you take all the stuff while stands with his arms crossed.

"oh wow, maybe i should've left you out there for longer. maybe instead of my ring, you could've found yourself some manners." you throw the blanket at him, since he isn't holding anything, which he catches frantically.

"you're ring wasn't even there to begin with." he turns around to look at the ocean, catch off-guard by how gorgeous it look in the sunset.

"and neither were your manners!" you retort, glancing at him to see his reaction, only to find him staring off into the distance. you follow his gaze and gasp slightly at the ethereal sight.

it's sobering, watching the golden sun lower over the ocean, casting a hue pink and orange over the sparkling water. the perfect end to the perfect day. it made you wonder if you'd ever see something so beautiful ever again, though that's not a thought you shared with sakusa, as he knew he'd wake up next to you tomorrow.

he gulped and turned to you, and you beamed at him, instantly leaping into his arms. he stumbled a little but quickly found his balance and held you against him, close.

"thank you for coming with me today, 'omi. i had so much fun."

he smiled against your damp hair, and kisses your jaw, "you don't need to thank me. going anywhere with you is always my pleasure." his hands run down your arm until they find yours, and they graze the back of your fingers, brushing over your glittering ring, "because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

[wheels-of-despair]

How to Get a Hot Date Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie and Evil Woman run into a little jock trouble… but she'll snark their way out of it. And into something else. Contains: O'Donnell, an assembly, jocks being jackoffs, Evil Woman snark, discussion of dick size. Words: 1.1k

"Everyone, please make your way to the field for a special assembly," the dull voice of Higgins drones over the intercom.

"What now?" you groan, slamming your book shut and looking at Eddie in exasperation.

He thinks for a moment, narrowing his eyes and racking his brain.

"Aw hell, I think it's time for the Mothers Against Drunk Driving to make the rounds." You raise an eyebrow, and he continues. "They come through every year to tell sad stories about kids who drank and drove and died. Then somebody from the fire department tells stories about scraping bodies off the pavement. Real fun stuff."

"Sounds great," you smile. "Would be a real shame if we got lost on our way to the field."

Eddie grins, and you start shoving your stuff into your backpacks.

"Leave your things here," Mrs. O'Donnell instructs. "We're going as a class and returning here afterwards. Mr. Munson!"

"Yes, Mrs. O'Donnell?" he asks innocently.

"Attendance will be taken again when we return. No disappearing."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Mrs. O'Donnell," he says seriously.

She keeps her beady little eyes on him all the way to the field anyway. You settle in on the rickety aluminum bleachers used for sporting events and watch the other classes fill in. If this had been a regular assembly held in the auditorium, Hellfire would have gathered in their usual spot and already been playing cards or something. But you're guessing that due to the serious nature of this one, as opposed to a pep rally or awards assembly, they're going for silence rather than camaraderie.

When everyone is seated and the assistant principal starts the introduction, Eddie starts to fidget. It's a good thing you came prepared. You pull a pen from your pocket and draw a hangman game on the exposed flesh of your leg, thankful that you decided to wear shorts today. Eddie grins, and the game is afoot… eh, a-leg.

Approximately one hour later, your legs are filled with games of hangman (featuring creative phrases such as "Higgins sucks balls" and "we should be fucking in the van right now") and tic-tac-toe. The games take place on your legs. The scoreboard is on Eddie's arm. He's slightly ahead, and being quite smug about it. He smirks and adds another slash to the EDDIE column, making you roll your eyes.

"Do you smell something burning?" you ask suddenly, a strong smoky smell invading your nostrils.

"Just me smoking your ass," he grins.

"No, seriously," you say, looking around. Eddie does too, and pops out of his seat with a yelp.

Eddie's bandana is on fire.

He jerks it out of his pocket and drops it onto the bench, stomping and attracting the attention of everyone in the surrounding rows. They stare curiously or hide snickers behind their hands.

"Munson!" O'Donnell hisses. "SIT!"

Laughter erupts from below. You look just in time to see several green and white blurs streak from beneath the bleachers. The color of sports jerseys and letterman jackets, of course. Eddie sees them too, and his body tenses. He balls his fists.

He takes one step before you reach out and grab him by the belt, tugging him back to you. His ass lands on the aluminum bench with a thump. His face is red. He's fuming.

"Too many eyes," you whisper, wrapping your arms around him.

Eddie huffs out a short breath and reaches for his poor singed bandana. The corner has burned off. He traces the charred edge with a sigh.

"Would you believe me if I told you it looks even more badass now?" you whisper.

He leans his head toward you and knocks it against your own. You keep your arms around him for the rest of the assembly, partially for comfort, but mostly because you're fairly certain that if one of the jocks so much as looks at him, Eddie's going to take a flying leap off the bleachers and come out of it with a murder charge.

The assembly concludes soon after. You manage to get back to class and get your stuff without incident, foolishly thinking that today's drama is over. You're at your shared locker, swapping books and getting ready to meet Hellfire for lunch when something hits Eddie in the back of the head. He flinches, and you both look to the ground.

A matchbook.

"What's for lunch today, boys?" an unmistakably jock-y voice calls from across the hall. You turn to see five of them watching you with nasty smirks on their faces. "Smoked freak?"

"Singed psycho?"

"Charred cunt?"

Eddie's fists clench.

"I wouldn't touch it even if it was charred," one of them laughs. "Even fire can't cleanse whatever Munson's spreading."

Your fingers close around the lapel of Eddie's battle vest. They're trying to provoke him. They want him to get himself expelled before he can graduate. That's all this is. You're not going to let that fucking happen.

"You think she spreads her legs for all of the freaks, or just Munson?"

Eddie's body is beginning to vibrate. Not good.

"Sorry to disappoint you, boys," you say, putting yourself between them and Eddie. "But you must be at least this big to ride The Freak Express." You hold your hand up in a pinching motion, with only a few centimeters between your thumb and forefinger. "I don't believe any of you qualify. I hear they're working on some kind of procedure to help out guys like you, though, so don't give up hope! I'm sure you'll see some action outside the boys' locker room someday!"

"What does that mean?" one of them mumbles to another.

"It means you've all got micro-dicks," Eddie says loudly, his voice echoing through the nearly empty hallway.

"The term micro-dicks seems very generous in this case," you smirk, eyes darting around the hall and planning a hasty retreat.

One of the boys clenches his fists and steps forward, but freezes when a sharp "HEY!" sounds from the end of the hall. All eyes land on Mrs. O'Donnell.

"You two," she huffs, pointing to you and Eddie. "Will be writing me essays about why foul language has no place in Hawkins High this afternoon in detention. And you," she says, turning her focus to the jocks, "have five seconds to get out of my sight, or your coach will be hearing from me."

They scatter. Mrs. O'Donnell gives you each a severe look over the top or her glasses and stomps back into her classroom.

Eddie seethes. De-escalation, stat!

"C'mon, Monster-Cock Munson, let's go get lunch," you say quietly, sliding your arm around his middle. "All this foreplay is making me hungry."

Eddie laughs and slams the locker door shut. He throws an arm around your shoulders and steers you toward the cafeteria.

"Good thinkin'," he says, voice low and lips close to your ear. "Gotta refuel before our hot date with O'Donnell."

[3vln]

Ravens and Stallions: Ch. 1

Pairings: D. Blackwood x Bracken!Reader

Words: 3,800+

C.W.: probably needs LOTS of revisions. lots of time-inaccurate privileges (ladies allowed in taverns?? modern dilly-dallying), lots of cringe-worthy moments trying to add Westerosi/British slang into the mix (would love help on this) OCs, enemies-to-lovers, Romeo & Juliet-esque, non-canon stuff, no smut yet but will have (so MINORS DNI) My Lady Jane-type of banter.

Summary: Someone’s broken heart is how the day got started; for someone else, it was how it ended.

There was nothing special about meeting the Blackwood boy, at first. And he thought the same about you. It wasn’t love at first sight, or anything like that. But it was a gradual thing as you both got to know each other throughout the evening. It was a meeting by chance.

See, your respective friend groups had taken you both out to the nearby town of Harroway for some drinks; for the Blackwood boy, he’d heard talks about war looming, and the time to enjoy his livelihood, and his time being alive… well, he knew it would be short. He needed to make the days he had on Earth count.

And you, you were staying at your aunt’s house in Harroway to accompany your heartbroken friend to get drinks with a few others. While you weren’t someone who usually snuck out to drink, and had a good head on your shoulders, times like these where you enjoyed yourself were few and sparse. It was easier to obtain forgiveness from Aunt Jeyne than to ask your parents for permission.

So, as you were drinking your wine and comforting your distraught friend with the others, you briefly met, unbeknownst to you, the eyes of a rival.

“He had used me! I know he did, that rat bastard!” your wailing friend had choked out, snapping your attention to her. The other two friends made agreeable comments to comfort their hurting friend. In a loud tavern full of bustling noises, no one else had paid attention to her besides the friend group. It drowned out the quiet sobs and prevented any unnecessary attention.

You tried to encourage her with words of affirmation in an effort to lighten up her mood, it pained you to find close ones in pain, especially if it could have been prevented. “Lyanne, you can’t let that boy dictate how you live your life,” you heartened. The others agreed and chimed in with more affirming reflections. You eyed the table’s supply of wine and ale and sighed. “Moon tea will serve you best if it interests you, and please pray to the Maiden. Let’s get you another round of drinks for now; what do you say?” Lyanne wasn’t much of a devout, but she still took the advice to heart; smiling through her sad smile and teary eyes, she reminded herself to thank her friend later.

As you got up, another from the friend group joined you, making small talk about the unfortunate girl’s heartbreak and thanking you for joining them and for bringing fun and reason into the conversation.

“Although, I really think she should look into another man’s arms for comfort,” she mentioned coyly upon arrival to the bar.

“Bellena!” you quietly exclaimed with a smile before turning your back to order. You were too lost in your blush but thought about agreeing. Truth be told, it wasn’t a terrible idea. Not the best and ladylike, but nonetheless. Crying over failures was futile, and it was best to occupy perplexed thoughts with distractions.

An unfamiliar voice behind you tried for an unsolicited introduction between you both with a “Lost are we, ladies?” You quietly exchanged unimpressed looks.

A man with a sly grin had presented himself, mostly towards your friend; while weak of an introduction, yes, you saw Bellena’s gears start to work, most likely thinking of ways to see how she could use this to their advantage.

It was beautiful to see her magic work in real time, as she smiled sweetly, flirted with her eyes, and informed the man they’ve come for sweet libations from handsome men. “I see we’ve come to the right place,” she added. They maintained a bit of prolonged eye contact and, truthfully, you couldn’t fault either.

Bellena, of House Piper, was a natural beauty. Dark, cherry-red hair adorned her, and she truly embodied her house words of “Brave and Beautiful.”

The man before her was tall and handsome, Dornish-looking in a way – dark skin and thick eyebrows. You weren’t sure what house he was from, but Bellena thought it didn’t matter on nights like these. No one was dressed for battle and expressed their house colors tonight. The ladies themselves were anonymous in a way, dressed as common folk or servants having the night off to avoid the attention if dressed in their usual silks.

Banter and flirtatious remarks were exchanged between them, and soon after, Bellena successfully got the man to pay for the next rounds, allowing him and his friends to join your table at the tavern.

You both exchanged another look - this time, a silent acknowledgement in maidenhood: if anything happened that wasn’t welcomed, you’d all be quick to collect the other 2 ladies sitting at the table, and quickly exit.

This was an acknowledged risk, and for Lyanne above all.

“For the lore,” a phrase you all repeated and clinked your first drinks to.

“Miss?” The bar tender called for you, snapping you back to the present, “the drinks.”

As the man waved for his friends to join you, and as you moved towards the drinks, a familiar face you had seen a moment ago reached out to them before you, “Oh!”

“Let me get these for you,” he offered with a lazy smile.

You eyed him suspiciously, but offered back a polite smile.

“Davos, mate! Ever the gentleman. Follow us,” Aron, you soon learned, called out ahead.

Bellena quickly introduced him and his company, and ensured at least one of you had someone to talk to and talk about - especially Lyanne, whom the girls wanted to see enjoy herself and meet someone new.

Times like today, you weren’t fully mentally prepared to meet new people or anyone outside of whom you thought about spending the evening with. Quickly downing your drink as you sit next to Lyanne, you hope it quickly loosens you up to conversation. But to your surprise, you found that Davos, from at the end of the table, had noticed this quick moment and looked at you with a mix of surprise and, ultimately, awe – nodding his head in approval. You looked away in embarrassment, not expecting the attention.

“What brings you pretty lot out here to Harroway anyway?” one of them asks.

The ladies took a moment to respond, sheepishly looking around at each other with embarrassed smiles, debating if an elaborate story should be told or flat out explain the story in which they’re here for their broken-hearted friend.

“Well...” it was a tricky position. They didn't want to reveal themselves, but the ladies didn't know where to begin.

One of them snickered. “Don’t tell us you’re all out having a naughty night out and running away from home,” Davos joked as he took a drink from his pint. “I’d be quite intrigued if that was the case.”

The cherry-haired girl chuckled at the irony and nodded towards you, “Oh, you’d be surprised. Have you met my dear friend over here? I think you’d be quite smitten with her.”

In this moment, you remembered thinking and wishing for the Earth to open up and swallow you whole, and created a mental note to strangle the girl in front of you as you cover your face with your hands.

“Oh? A runaway, I fear?” he teases.

“Absolutely not,” you shook your head, quickly thinking of ways to explain yourself. “I had only wished for some fresh air and found myself in this tavern before I knew it. I’m sure we’ve all been there before.” Not your finest.

“Oh! Oh, yes!” He teasingly agreed, nodding with a sarcastic smile. “I was out with these lads having a drink, and before I knew it, my feet had taken a mind of their own and found myself here. I’m glad I’ve found my people.”

“Precisely.”

He chuckles as he rolls his eyes and takes another sip from his pint.

-

The rest of the evening was followed by more laughter and banter from both ends, surprised at how well things were going and the ladies having fun and comfortable, the heartbroken girl had even rallied back together from her earlier state; and even though you weren’t contributing to much conversation, you were relaxed as long as everyone else was having a grand time. You looked down at your drink, almost gone, and while you weren’t inebriated, you figured it was time for some fresh air.

Absent-mindedly, you excused yourself from the table, and upon leaving to venture outside, you weren’t prepared to see Lyanne perched up outside against the tavern walls towards a quiet corner, in the middle of a passionate kiss with the man whom she had been speaking with.

Quickly hiding back behind the wall, hand on your chest and the other over your mouth, a peal of laughter creeps up as you try to hold against it, afraid of being caught or heard. You were wondering where she had gone after missing from the table for some time. Now you know where. You made a mental note to hold court with her and the other girls soon to debrief on the day’s events.

“There you are.”

You looked to the entrance of the alehouse and saw the man who had helped you with the drinks walk up. You offered him a greeting with a biting smile.

He seemed amused by your reaction. “I see we’re in need of some fresh air?”

You nodded as you bit your lip, holding back a giggle. “Well, that was the plan. But I see that we’re not the only ones who need fresh air.”

He looked at you curiously until he looked around the corner and saw the offending sight. He looked at you with shock, his mouth hanging in disbelief with his lips turned up, “Seven hells!”

You nodded to reaffirm you were equally as shocked. He looked over again, feigning the same shocked reaction, but this time he furrowed his eyebrows, face growing stern, “Wait, that’s not alright.” He touched your shoulder, as if to excuse himself as he made himself visible to the offending couple, “Ey! Get your vile tongue off her! And treat her like a lady - get a room!”

There was a “Piss off!” in the distance, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the entertaining interaction between Davos and his friend. He let out a chuckle as he ran his tongue over the side of his teeth, returning the response with an offending finger towards the distant man.

“The boldness of that lad, huh?” he returned his attention back to you.

You shrugged, “I hope this doesn’t make me a bad friend, but I’m glad she’s having fun.”

He raised his eyebrows as he scanned you down, “And you call that having fun?” You roll your eyes as you push yourself off the wall.

“Calm down. All I’m saying,” you emphasize, “is that I’m glad that she’s not sad anymore.”

“Hm. Care to elaborate?”

You looked at him curiously, looking at the way he was genuinely interested in conversation as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall towards you. Relaxed eyes looking down at you, dark irises gleaming despite the twilight sky. You thought about how sweet he looked – kind of handsome in a rugged and boyish way, his choppy bangs framing his face. It almost made you uneasy how interested he looked.

Clearing your throat and looking away, you entertained the conversation and started to walk around the alehouse – both attentive to not disturbing the lovebirds – and although you were careful not to reveal too much about yourself, it was nice to talk about your friend groups and your interests with someone who was interesting, of substance, and someone who understood your humor. This was a stark contrast to the suitors that your mother had wanted you to meet. Most conversations had fallen flat, or lacked sympathy, or intelligence for that matter.

Davos was careful to maintain a respectful distance, cautious to not make any unnecessary touches, which was something you appreciated. You began to take a liking to him because of that.

“What about you?” you asked as you both made your way to the distant trees that offered quietness - polar to the noisy tavern inside. “What do you like?”

He sheepishly smiled. A thought formed in his head about whether he should take a bold move or stay conservative. “Not a lot of things, truth be told.” He looked away. “But I know I like something when I feel it,” he finished, his head turning to you with a lopsided smile.

Taken aback, you hope the blush creeping up doesn’t betray you, and silently nod.

A beat of silence follows, and a look of realization falls on his face as he stands tall from leaning against the tree he had just made himself comfortable on. His face, now beet red, distorts with ideas to make conversation out of, “I hope that wasn’t too forward, I’m sorry, it’s just that you’re very pretty with a pretty laugh, and I think you’re a very nice girl and funny too, and I like you and…” strings of words came together to fill the silence, and you look at him in awe and curiosity at how fast he’s able to talk, wondering if he’ll ever catch a breath for talking fast.

As he continued, you made a forward move to place your hands on him in hopes of calming him, holding his face in one of your palms, “Davos… Davos!” you try. His face was warm, you didn’t realize how bony his cheekbones were as you brushed your thumb against his cheek.

Eventually, realizing your hands were on him, he slowed down. “Right, uhh, yes, sorry,” he breathed as he calmed.

“Thank you,” you chuckled. “I thought something had possessed you,” you laughed. A beat of silence. “But that was sweet.”

You forgot your hands were still on him caressing his cheeks until he placed his hands on top of yours, something you were unprepared for, but nonetheless welcomed.

Another beat of silence. “You have very soft hands,” he murmured as he closed his eyes and kissed the inside of your palm, then leaned into it. Oh.

When he opened his eyes, he studied you and smiled, “You are very pretty,” he said softly. Oh!

Something in you grew, your heart, or your chest, or something. It was almost consuming. Was it the way he had kissed your palm? Or the way he outright told you how pretty you look? Or the endearing way his thoughts dispersed and he babbled on? A bit of everything, you supposed. It was too forward, but it was nice, it was a nice feeling; foreign, and a bit uncomfortable from it being all new to you, but you welcomed it with a smile, curious to see how this unfolds.

You don’t remember exact details but you remember thinking about the scar above his lip, touching it lightly with your fingers, and the electrifying feeling of his lips meeting yours. The butterflies in your stomach swelled, making their way towards your chest, and your blood pumping with nervousness and excitement as you ventured into a foreign experience.

It felt good to be wanted, the way his hands snaked around your waist, and the way the kiss had started off soft, innocuous, and tender, and how it lent its way to become more profound, and almost sinful.

He was careful to not make any more offending moves, and that made you want him even more; one of your hands now having a mind of their own, snaking their way to comb his hair behind his head between your fingers. You clocked a small grunt leaving him as you tugged his hair a little, his arms pressing you closer to him, and a heat spreading through you, legs seconds from turning jelly and letting him mold you.

You needed to catch your breath – this was becoming too much, and you weren’t expecting any of what had just unfolded. Still interlocked in each other’s arms, a shy laugh left you both.

You shared a comfortable silence in each others arms after some time. And you, dare say thanked? the gods for giving you a lovely moment to live on.

“You know,” breaking the silence after a while as he held on to your waist, “that was quite a feat what you did back there with your drink.”

You quizzically looked at him as you toyed with the locks behind his ear, “hmm?”

“When you chugged your drink. Faster than the northern winds.”

“Oh, was that what first caught your attention?”

“Mmmm, that and your pretty face.”

You rolled your eyes, blushing. “You never told me what you didn’t like,” you murmured in an effort to change the conversation.

To that, the man bobbed his head side to side. “That may be a longer list,” he grimaced.

You heartily chuckle, “I may have the time for it.”

He smiled, “Well, for the basics, what I despise–”

“Oh, we’re starting out heavy.”

“Hah, mmm, well, maybe…” he grinned, and he indeed shared a long list of things, a lot of it personal things that are beyond surface-level that made him his own unique being; and more minor, funny things that he thought were inconveniences.

You really did admire him for being someone who isn’t afraid of vulnerability. It felt like a breath of fresh air. And the attentiveness!

You brushed your thumb over his cheek, with him leaning into it as he continued to list out the things he passionately disliked. He was a man of passion, you soon found out. To your surprise, you've come to found out you like this trait. And surely he's someone you'd be interested in if he were interested in pursuing you. You just needed to find an opening in this conversation with your parents once you learn of Davos' parentage.

And just as you thought about opening up about your family, he’s beaten you to it, and a part of you shatters.

“… ah! And Brackens.”

Huh? You turn to him, “I beg your pardon?”

A million thoughts ran through your head, maybe you misheard? Were we back to talking about our his likes? Enjoyments? Gods be good, are we family? A horror strikes your face. All thoughts race, all leading to the shared kiss.

You looked at him, warm relaxed eyes looking back at you – unaware, unassuming. A piece of you has broken, you think.

He shrugged, “Aye, Brackens. Cravens, the lot of them. I think they’re a bunch of good-for-nothing–”

Another shatter. “I’d be careful with your next words.” You dropped your arms away from him as you sternly held your ground, ready to bite back and defend your gold-and-red coated family. The worst has dawned on you, and disgust has overtaken. No, no, no, no!

Confused and a bit hurt, he studied you and nodded with a frown, finally piecing the puzzle together.

A pregnant silence takes over before he takes a deep breath. “I take it you’re Bracken?”

“Proudly.”

He continued nodding his head and rested his hands on his hips, “Then we’re definitely in a bit of a situation.”

You rolled your eyes, “there’s no situation.” Definitely not after the revelation. It couldn't be allowed. Wouldn't.

“Oh really? This moment we had–”

“We had no moment.”

“- kinda looked like a situation… Right. Well.”

You scoffed. “Davos, do me a favor, forget this ever happened.” It had to. If he was willing to say something about your family, what were the chances of him treating you any better? This was nothing but a flirtatious evening. It was going so well, until it wasn’t, especially when speaking in the matters of family. You couldn’t allow yourself to think beyond this moment, of the what ifs. You had to ensure he understood that and cut it off before anything more began. You looked him in the eye and stood your ground.

There was a darkness in his eyes now, surely hurt after being told to forget this moment with someone whom he wanted to explore a prospect with. He thought about the possibility of apologizing, asking for forgiveness, and although too soon, he'd thought about facing the challenges that involved asking for your hand from a family that wouldn’t welcome him in the first place.

But upon hearing your words, it snapped him out and brought him down to reality. Of course, there was no future, much less a moment of truce between the opposing Houses. This was a feud as old as time. So he did what he did best, and put up a wall around him that had forced him to spit insults, regretfully projecting his own hurt. “Forget? How could I forget the moment I discovered an almost civilized Bracken?”

Oh. This had turned around rather quickly. “Almost? Coming from a Blackwood, that’s a compliment.” Unexpected, but you saw this invitation to pass insults, and determined to not lose this battle, you wanted to hurt him if he was going to act this way.

“Don’t let it get to you. You might start thinking you’re actually interesting.”

I beg your pardon? “Interesting enough to catch your attention, apparently,” you spit, “Or is your recollection as poor as your judgment?”

He leaned in closer, towering over you. “My judgment might be questionable, but at least I don’t deceive people to have fun.”

Crossing your arms, you looked at him lamely with an arched eyebrow, “Oh that’s rich, I didn’t know Raventree Hall had a jester. Is that a Blackwood trait or just your own special talent?”

He stood mere inches away from your face and your stomach was back to making butterflies, but you refused to showcase anything other than annoyance, you were determined to have the last word.

Giving you a once-over, he chuckled, clearly over this, “It’s called charm, something I’m not afraid to use again,” he murmured.

A sound of disgust leaves your lips as you turn around and march back to the tavern, ���Enjoy your delusions, Blackwood.”

Davos, back to leaning against the tree, smiled to no one in particular as he would enjoy his delusions. “And you, Bracken; enjoy your illusions.”

On your march back, you were too focused on holding back from vomiting and feeling your emotions, bottling them up and storing them far away. Just as you thought you found someone on your own, it had to be someone you couldn’t have and someone who was willing to insult your family.

You collected the rest of your friends, much to Bellena and Lyanne’s chagrin, and marched back home to your Aunt Jeyne’s place before it got too dark. It was then that you fully settled into your emotions, thought about the shared kiss, how sweet it was, and silently sobbed.

You ended the night with a broken heart.

[biteofcherry]

Bumping into Omega's crush🥰😉

I take it's a follow up to this ask? 😊 Meeting Omega's hot crush wouldn't go as you think it would, though it's hilarious in a different kind of way.

A fallen crush

Grain of Truth Masterlist

alpha!Steve Rogers x omega!female reader

warnings: none really; Steve being possessive; mention of sexy stuff; also alpha Steve is a warning, since he drives a girl stupid 😜

Steve's eyebrows drew in a confused frown as he watched a faint scowl twist your beautiful face, which just seconds ago shone with a bright smile.

This was not the reaction he would've expected.

No, quite the opposite. There should be that glow and sparkles in your eyes, like when he first told you about taking you to the movie premiere and post movie VIP party.

A movie with your annoying star crush, Ari Levinson.

He'd gladly not do it; not only to avoid watching you drool over some actor (even if Steve himself considered him a good one), but because Steve wasn't a fan of big events where he had to dress up.

But he knew it would make you happy and no force - even his possessiveness - could stop him from making your dreams come true.

So when Natasha landed the gig as a fight choreographer for the movie, which then allowed her a VIP pass to the premiere, she offered it to Steve, knowing how much you liked Levinson. Steve was certain she did it mostly to annoy him, surprising you was an additional bonus.

You were so excited to go that it melted away even Steve's own grumpy approach.

Then you were introduced to Ari Levinson and Steve watched, in preparation for having to fucking fight an A-lister, as you shook hands with him and exchanged smiles.

However, when Levinson finally moved away to talk with someone else, your pretty face lost the brightness Steve expected to see at least for the whole night.

"What's up, sweet brat?" He asked, tugging you closer to him.

"Nothing," you shrugged, pretending to look around in curiosity.

"Nothing, sure." Steve was having none of it. "You're at a movie premiere, which you were very excited for. You met your stupid celebrity crush, who held your hand far too long and I didn't even rip his head off. Shouldn't that make you happy?"

"I am happy!" You huffed, but your tone and your glare said otherwise.

"Mhm, yes, you're radiating a happy hissy fit." Steve snorted and pulled you with him a few steps back, into a darkened corner of the party hall.

"So what is it, really?" His voice softened slightly.

"Nothing, just-" you bowed your head, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth- "I just thought it would be different."

"How so?" Steve wondered if there was something about this event that bothered you, or if you felt disappointed that your crush didn't fall head over heels for you.

Which, on one side, was good, because otherwise Steve would beat the guy. On the other side, Steve himself didn't get how someone couldn't see how perfect you are.

When you lifted your head up, it wasn't to confess some sad discomfort, but to snap at him in annoyance:

"I thought I would want him!"

Steve blinked. Now completely confused, but also sensing a wave of possessive anger that threatened to grow if you ever mentioned wanting another man.

"Excuse me?"

"Ugh! It's all your fault!" You poked at Steve's chest.

"Ari Levinson was the hottest Greek God. And yeah, he's still fucking hot. I admit that. He is attractive." You ranted in a heated, though hushed tone.

"But I wanted him. I used to imagine him. And now? Now there's zero lust. Absolute zero. Like my pussy is dead for anyone that's not you, you stupid bossy alpha!"

Steve stared at you for a long moment; at your eyes sparking with the force of a lightning, your cute nose scrunched up in a scowl, your lips parted and teeth bared.

A thin line of propriety separated you from being bent over the nearest table and having the attitude spanked out of you.

Steve's hand moved up your back, until he gripped the back of your neck. He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"It better be dead for anyone that's not me, or they're dead."

A shiver trickled down your spine at his growl. You went pliant in Steve's hands, knees going weak.

"You have bad movie lines," you snorted.

"I don't need any lines to have you begging for my knot." Steve's other hand slipped along the slit in your dress.

"Now," his fingers dipped beneath the fabric and between your thighs, "do you want to do it somewhere here, at the party, so your fallen crush can hear it? Or do you want to be a good girl and scram for me at home?"

[journey-to-the-attic]

3rd anniversary req 21: [DDVD] levi, satan, beel / babysitting

ao3 link

note: i tried to incorporate most of what the request form said - hope you're happy with this, anon! this one's just precious <3

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

“Behave,” Lucifer says sternly, and shuts the door.

Levi exchanges a look with Satan. For some reason, he gets the feeling that Lucifer was talking to them, and not the toddler clinging to the back of Satan’s leg.

He cranes his neck down. IK is already staring wistfully at the door. Satan would probably compare her to a lost kitten; Levi thinks the look is more akin to a sad Lotan.

“Beel’s in the kitchen,” He says to Satan in an undertone, and the two of them hastily adjourn to three-sevenths of a family meeting.

Couldn't Lucifer have picked any other day for whatever fancy reservation he's made for their date? It's clear he doesn't entirely trust the only three babysitters available. He knows this because Lucifer added all three of them to a hastily-made, very secret group chat a few hours ago - to warn them of what would happen if anything went wrong. 

The three of them sit silently around the kitchen table for about five minutes. Finally, Satan clears his throat, and looks at Levi.

“You’re the oldest here,” He says. “You should know what to do.”

Levi grimaces. “Well, I don’t.”

The three of them look to IK, who is sitting solemnly in the head chair. None of them know where Lucifer keeps her booster seat, so she can only just about see over the edge of the table. (IK usually protests about having to use it, so she seems happy with the situation.)

“It can’t be that hard,” Satan mutters, mostly to himself. “If Lucifer can handle it.”

Usually that means no one else can, Levi thinks, but wisely chooses not to say this out loud. But it can’t be that different to what we usually do… right? I mean, I guess we don’t really do the proper care stuff. That’s Zhao’s thing. We just hang out with her…

“Pom-pom,” IK mumbles.

Satan blinks, then tilts his head to the side and leans forward. “Sorry?”

“Pom-pom,” IK repeats, louder this time.

“I don’t… what’s ‘pom-pom’? Is it one of your toys?”

“Hmph,” IK says, then hops down from her chair and toddles out of the kitchen with such authority that none of them think to stop her.

It takes Beel’s phone going off to bring them back to reality. Lucifer has sent them, rather aptly, a parenting book. Satan decides to stay behind to read it while Beel and Levi are sent to wrangle the kid - and figure out what she’s actually after.

IK hasn’t made it far. She still can’t get up the stairs on her own, nor can she open any of the doors without full-body ramming into them, so she’s only managed to make it a little way down the corridor.

“Pom-pom,” She insists when they catch up with her.

“We don’t have pom-pom,” Levi says a little breathlessly, even though he really didn’t go that fast. “Can’t you just tell us what you want?”

IK cannot, apparently. She leads them on a merry chase in about five circles around the ground floor (she kicks every time they try to pick her up) before finally sitting down in a huff in the middle of the living room. Levi’s secretly a little grateful for the chance to rest his legs - this is the most he’s moved in the last month.

“The floor’s cold,” Beel says patiently, attempting to pick her up. IK manages to wiggle cleanly out of his hands and goes straight back to the ground. “Come on, let’s go sit somewhere comfy, okay?”

“Pom-pom,” IK mumbles, beginning to look a little tearful. The look on her face makes it clear: if Lucifer was here, he’d totally know what to do by now. 

It’s, quite frankly, unfair. He’s already good at everything else. Levi had really expected childcare to be the one thing to trip him up.

Situations like these really call for Asmo. Once again, Levi finds himself wondering why in hell he’s here.

“IK,” He tries - unable to muster one of Asmo’s many pet names and resorting instead to sounding as pathetic as possible, in hopes that she’ll take pity on him. “IK, c’mon. Wanna come see Henry? You like Henry.”

Beel tries to pick her up again. IK gives him a severe, uncannily Lucifer-like look, then stubbornly slips down until she's lying flat on her back.

“We need some blocks,” Satan announces, walking into the room with far too much confidence. “Do we have blocks?”

“Of course we don’t,” Levi says miserably, about two minutes away from lying on the floor himself. “Why would we?”

“Then I will go find some blocks,” Satan says decisively, and walks straight back out again.

IK stays on the ground, staring blankly up into the ceiling. She doesn’t look as if she’s throwing a tantrum so much as she looks like she’s lost all hope in the world. It kind of hurts his heart.

He glances up at Beel. His brother’s brow is deeply furrowed in thought. After a moment, he sits down, and carefully pushes his palm underneath IK’s head. If she won’t get up, at least he can give her a pillow.

Satan comes back with a crate that he says Lucifer’s been keeping in his study (which is supposed to be locked right now, but that’s on Lucifer for not using a strong enough charm), and produces a set of patterned blocks that he attempts to gently encourage IK to play with. All IK does is hold them limply.

“Maybe she needs a nap?” Beel suggests, but IK doesn’t seem to like that idea. In fact, after hearing the word, she appears to start deliberately keeping her eyes open for as long as possible out of spite.

Satan looks something up on his phone - steadfastly refusing to call Lucifer - then abruptly hurries off again. He comes back with some cardboard, a ball of wool, and a pair of scissors. IK lifts her head to watch him with interest as he sets about snipping and tying. Finally:

“There you are,” Satan announces triumphantly, and presents IK with a little green ball of fluff. “A pom-pom.”

IK sits up and holds it blankly. Then she shakes her head.

The dismay on Satan’s face would be funny if Levi didn’t feel terrible for him. “No? Is it the wrong colour?”

“Pom-pom,” IK says sadly.

“Fine…” He reaches out to take it back, only for IK to snatch the pom-pom-that-isn't-the-right-pom-pom back. “Hey. I thought you didn’t want it.”

“Mine,” She mumbles stubbornly, and dodges his next grab as well. “Mine!”

“But it’s not your pom-pom, is it?” Satan asks, now beginning to grin. “Come on, give it back.”

“No!” IK scrambles to her knees, then shuffles to hide behind Beel’s broad back. “Mine!”

“I made it! Give it back!”

“NO!”

Clutching the pom-pom, IK jumps to her feet - and, wobbling unsteadily from side to side, full-on sprints out of the living room.

Satan reacts first, almost as if he were expecting it. Hauling himself to his feet, he practically gallops after her, leaving Beel and Levi in stunned silence, still sitting helplessly on the floor.

“I didn’t know she could go that fast,” Levi says after a moment. “Do you think Mammon’s been teaching her?”

“We should probably go after them…” Beel glances down at the crate. “Should we bring the blocks?”

Satan has cornered IK in the library when they catch up with them. Even as they sidle awkwardly through the door, she looks sharply around the room, spots the still-ajar door to Lucifer’s office, and promptly zooms inside. Satan, of course, doesn’t hesitate to do the same.

Levi follows just in time to see him double-evade her around the desk, then shoot forward and sweep her cleanly off the ground - “Got you!”

“No!” IK insists, even though she’s giggling so loudly that the word is barely discernible.

“No? Certainly looks like you’re— ow!”

Something has flown out of Lucifer’s desk and propelled itself directly into Satan’s face - so hard that he’s shoved backwards into a cabinet and knocks a bottle off its stand. IK does not help things grabbing a fistful of his hair to keep herself steady.

“What the—” On closer inspection, the thing that came out of the desk appears to be a little stuffed pigeon. As Satan spins around, attempting to regain his bearings, it folds its wings and jabs its little felt beak at his eyes.

“What do we do?!” Levi yelps, hands braced to do something, though he hasn’t the faintest idea what.

IK isn’t giggling so much as she is wailing now - Satan, though still reeling, has enough sense to pass her off to Levi before attempting to wave the pigeon off. His arms windmill around so wildly that it’s only a matter of time before he—

“Oof!” Levi manages to shield the back of IK’s head with his hand, but his own nose isn’t so lucky. “Watch where your hands are going!”

“I’m getting attacked!” Satan snarls, and looks one peck away from zapping the pigeon into dust. “Do something!”

“What am I supposed to do?!”

Beel, at this point finally stepping into the situation, clearly has more wits about him than either of them. He surveys the situation, steps forward, and plucks the pigeon cleanly from the air.

It goes straight to ferociously attacking its fingers. Without the momentum of flight on its side, though, its blows are virtually harmless. At this, Levi hesitantly lowers his hand from IK’s head.

“This definitely has Lucifer written all over it,” Satan grunts, a hand pressed over his eye. “Smug bas… ahem. Am I bleeding?”

Levi leans over and peers at his face for a moment. “Nah, you’re good.”

He lowers his hand, but he doesn’t look any less mutinous. “Who gave him the idea of putting toy security in his desk?”

“I don’t think it’s security,” Beel says, holding the pigeon’s head still with one hand and reading its label with the other. “I think it’s a toy for IK. See?”

The company name does check out. That doesn’t explain why it comes to life and attacks people, though.

“Well, it’s not a spell I’ve seen anywhere before, so don’t look at me,” Satan grumbles.

Beel inspects the plush pigeon for another moment, then (still carefully holding it still) holds it out to IK. She looks frightened - but, under his reassuring gaze, slowly reaches out, and bumps a little fist to its beak.

The pigeon immediately stills. Levi would’ve thought he’d just hallucinated the whole thing if it weren’t for the red mark on Satan’s forehead.

“Oh,” says Satan himself, realisation dawning. “He enchanted it. That’s…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but clearly he isn’t angry anymore. Beel gently presses the pigeon into IK’s arms, and it comes briefly to life again to tuck its head lovingly against her cheek.

“That isn’t an easy enchantment,” Satan murmurs, wiping his brow. “He’s probably not done testing it.”

“Looks like it works fine to me,” Levi says, watching IK attempt to feed the pigeon her green pom-pom. “Do you like it, IK?”

“Mmm,” IK says, flapping the pigeon’s wings. The pom-pom falls out of her arms and lands softly on the floor.

She notices its absence after a moment and makes a sound of dismay. Satan huffs, then stoops to pick it up for her.

“At least you like it,” He mutters, passing it back to her. “Are you sure it’s not your pom-pom?”

IK shakes her head seriously. She gazes at him for a moment, then mumbles something and makes a gesture in his general direction. Levi obligingly leans forward.

“What now?” Satan sighs, but ducks down to her level anyway. “Are you going to hit me, too?”

Far from it. IK pats his cheek until he stops frowning, then stretches up to the red mark on his brow and gives it a kiss.

“...oh.”

If Levi didn’t know better, he’d say Satan was dangerously close to tears. His brother clears his throat and offers a slightly shaky smile. “Thanks.”

IK hums, then pulls both pigeon and pom-pom tight to her chest, and tucks her head under Levi’s chin. Before he can stop himself, he lets out a sharp squeak, like a poorly-oiled door.

“I think it’s time for a nap now,” Beel says, watching her with a little smile. “Let’s go.”

“Okay,” He agrees, voice quivering, and follows him out of the office. Satan stays behind briefly to shut the drawer the pigeon flew out of, but doesn’t bother re-locking the door.

The crate of toys is still sitting in the middle of the library. Levi gingerly lowers himself into an armchair and lets IK figure out how she wants to sleep; Beel sits down on the floor directly opposite him and contents himself with watching her.

Satan stands silently for a while, then settles beside the toy crate and starts methodically stacking the blocks himself. Levi watches him, too afraid of disturbing IK to move.

“She’ll probably be hungry when she wakes up,” says Beel, setting his chin on his knees. “I think there are some strawberries left in the kitchen.”

“We need something more substantial than fruit.” Satan sets the final block on his tower, then promptly knocks the whole thing over and starts again. “Sandwiches, maybe…”

IK isn't asleep for long before she abruptly startles awake again. Levi opens his mouth to say something sappy that'd usually come out of Asmo - then quickly realises that something's up. 

"What?" Satan asks, sitting up. 

"I don't..."

IK is practically ramrod-straight in his arms. Her eyes are open, but she stares directly ahead of her, far into the distance.

Beel lifts his head and rises to his knees. "Give her here."

Levi can't do anything but acquiesce. IK doesn't respond at first, but almost as soon as she leaves Levi's arms, she takes in a sharp breath, and begins to whimper. 

"Wait—" Instinctively, he tries to snatch her back, but Beel holds firm. "Why... what's wrong?!"

"Nightmare," says Beel shortly. "Belphie used to do the same thing. Can you go get some water?"

It might be the fastest Levi has ever gone to do something. Beel doesn't get IK to drink it - instead, he dips a finger in, and draws a streak across her forehead. At this, IK pauses, eyes wide. 

Satan darts to pick up the pigeon from where it's fallen to the floor. It begins to move as soon as he presses it to IK's face - fluttering its wings and gently grazing its cheek against hers. Levi imagines he hears it coo. 

"Hi," Beel murmurs, doing the same trick with the water again This time, IK makes a sound of protest. "Don't worry, it's gone now."

IK mumbles something and twists away, attempting to wipe her forehead. Beel smiles and does it for her. "...there. That's how you know she's awake again."

"Bad dream, huh?" Satan clicks his tongue sympathetically, then leans down and kisses her forehead - returning the favour from earlier. "Are you still tired?"

She blinks slowly, then makes a quiet noise of affirmation. Beel nods seriously. "You can sleep again, then. We'll keep you safe, okay? Your dad will be home soon."

"Okay," IK whispers, and closes her eyes again.

———

Some time later, Belphie gets home. By that weird twin-sense he shares with Beel, he comes straight to the library. Since IK went back to sleep, Levi's taken a turn on the building blocks, for want of something to do. 

“Do you know where IK’s pom-pom is?” Satan asks without looking up from his book.

“Huh?” Belphie drops his bag with a loud yawn. “What d’you mean, where?”

“She wouldn’t stop asking about it.” Levi precariously sets one tower on top of another. “We didn’t know what it was.”

“Oh, she wants pom-pom? That’s easy,” Belphie says with infuriating nonchalance, then wanders across the room, where IK is beginning to stir in Beel’s lap. “Hey, twinkle-star.”

The three of them can only watch in dawning realisation as Belphie crouches down, shifts seamlessly into demon form, then offers the end of his tail like it’s some kind of toy. IK blinks at him, then scrambles up and makes a grab for the fluffy bit at the end.

“Oh.” says Beel a little weakly. “You were talking about Belphie’s tail the whole time?”

“Pom-pom,” IK says happily.

[angy-grrr]

more than repressing feelings, I think Izuku tends to not think about himself in general -about how others could actually be interested in him romantically for example- and usually keeps many things to himself, sometimes out of necessity. Its like he is completely clueless, truly unaware, and knows to put his feelings to the side in order to be good at heroics, but doesn't suffer from this decision as he lets himself feel those emotions.

To compare, Ochako did suffer from her feelings because they were dictating her career and decisions, who she was, and prefers to pretend she directly doesnt feel them at all; Izuku suffers from them when something really hurtful happens and becomes way too much to handle. Maybe Ochako's feelings arent that big, but they grow out of her repression; Izuku feels his feelings freely, but they are so big already he has trouble handling them.

But who is Izuku outside of it?

There's this misconception, out of translations and not understanding the clues of the original Japanese text, of him repressing and thinking his feelings for Katsuki are gross however turns out he likes them, he doesnt reject them at all. He knows others would see Katsuki's behavior as gross and inappropriate, and yet he acts like him instinctively. This is what he held back when he fought for the second time with Katsuki, and the reason why he lost.

When he had to stop thinking about Katsuki's death, it was the best decision to ensure he would fight against ShigAFO without losing control -it wasn't a negative thing from him, just the best option. This is why Katsuki told him in the memories ep to not think about unnecessary stuff, because he can't stop thinking about those; this is also why he had to get away from the Himiko Ochako Tsuyu fight, because he wouldnt be able to ignore those things.

Katsuki on another hand is able to fight while thinking of emotional memories, and while he died in that moment

I believe there's something going on with Katsuki tho, the little smiles he has given were strange in my opinion, like melancholic, and we still need to know what's going on with his heart just. Being able to handle so much when it exploded.

Idk if we will get a word about Izuku's reaction towards his corpse -sometimes mangakas and comic writers do that, using the rage moment on its own to explain what the character feels when a loved one is hurt instead of giving time to explore the MC's sadness.

Izuku is a hopeful character, but he has a big heart full of emotions and there's something he hid from Katsuki as we saw in their second fight, and I have no idea if this will be brought up. He seems to be focusing more on heroism at the moment -he is sending the message to Spinner like Shigaraki wanted, he talked with Ochako about the topic focusing mostly on a hopeful future more than expressing internal conflicts, and asked mentors and figures of authority about what could be done.

Some people pointed out these chapters are going back to the beginning, and I believe it would be a nice detail to go back to All Might and Izuku and, finally, to Izuku and Katsuki.

I would love to see a more "simple" approach with a bkdk scene; with this I mean to go to the beginning beginning, outside of heroics, just them and the river.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - First Birthday

I am back at it again! :D The no chill train continues and I want to enjoy the thing that I like so here we go! @spotaus get in here friend :D

First Drabble/Prompt Prev Drabble Next Drabble

We are here to win and winning is having fun! :D

*--------------------*

Cross nods his thanks to Ellie as he takes the box with a very nice looking cake over "You two really didn't need to."

Dani snorts "Are you crazy? Of course we do! Also don't forget his presents." and she rises three boxes.

Cross takes them with care and puts them under in the bag before putting the cake carefully on top.

Cross still feels bad "You really didn't need to. I am sorry we didn't invite you two and stuff but we are just worried it gets too much for him and-"

Eliie giggles and waves it off "We get it! First birthdays are a big deal especially with you guys getting him back not even a year ago!"

Cross nods before frowning and shooting the two a look "What... do you mean?"

Ellie looks shocked before smiling guilty and looking away. Dani smiles "We don't know know... mostly because you guys don't relaly tell anyone details and we aren't going to search for answers that could mean trouble... but well... how you guys act and how Nightmare acts tell a lot about the story you guys are not sharing... you know?"

Cross looks away and tries to push down the annoyance. This is good. Their backstory is being believed and people are coming to the conclusions they want. Yet Cross is still was immediantly afraid they figured out more for some reason even if that isn't possible...

Cross is getting lost in his own skull again.

Ellie looks sad as she rubs her hands together "Sorry... we didn't mean to make you feel bad or unsure or anything... We just wanted to reassure you that we get it and understand why you guys are private about stuff! And that we aren't hurt about not getting invited!"

Cross gives aslow nod and mutters "It is fine just... worried... about what people know and talk about and stuff... in case the wrong people hear the right things you know?" that is the best way he can explain.

Dani nods and looks determined "We know. and know that if you ever need a place to hide, either you guys or just a place to hide Nightmare, you can always come to us. We have a large place and can easily find somewhere to tug you guys away untill stuff blows over."

Ellie nods and grins widely "You can count on us!" then she nudges him, whihc really does nothing to make him move but it doesn't seem to bother ellie "Now do to your boyfriends and kid and have fun with your party!"

Cross sputters as he knows he is blushing "We aren't! No wait we are but it is new and-" both girls giggle and cross glares at them "Stop it!"

Dani grins "Sorry sorry. and relax cross. You guys will be fine."

Ellie nods and gives him the thumbs up "Exactly! Relax and enjoy your time together!"

Cross mutters and mumbles his goodbye and quickly makes his escape. He rushes back to their car and gets in before lying his skull on the wheel. trying to will the blush away.

After his moment he puts the car into reverse and gets back to the road. It is easy enough to ride to town and pick up the last few groceries.

Cross takes a moment to mentally check his list before checking it on his phone as well. Then he starts their truck again and goes home.

They only one they hadn't told that today was Ngihtmare's birthday and party was Error. But that is on Error. If that guy wants to learn stuff he can ask them instead of creeping on them like the antisocial outcode he is.

He returns home to see Killer and Horror moving around the living room as Cross carries the last few things in. He checks around before speaking "Dust and Nightmare?"

Killer grins "Garden! They are checking the grapes as we speak. Nightmare knows we are setting up so he doesn't have to be nervous or stressed."

Cross nods and relaxes "That is good." he places the cake the Danielle's made on their table and smiles. It is little skull decorations in bright pink and cherries all along the top.

Killer whistles as he leans on his shoudlers "cake looks good." then Killer grins widely at him "Not as good as you though" and he winks.

Cross blushes and rubs his cheek. fighting the need to hide at the compliment and obvious flirt. Ever since they admitted their feelings for each other and they started dating Killer had cranked up his flirting and compliments to eleven. Cross didn't even think Killer could flirt more yet he was proven wrong.

Horror leaves the kitchen and snorts at Killer "Back to decorating." then he places more snacks on the table.

Cross smiles and waits "What can I help with?"

Horror thinks for a while as he looks around "Can you get the presents?"

Cross nods as he leaves the food wiht nightmare and rushes up to their attic. quickly finding the presents and he carries them down carefully.

By the time he returns Killer had finished with the decorations and putting books and things away. Horror has food in the oven and put six candles on the birthday cake.

Right with Ngihtmare not ageing they just decided to keep calling him six until he recovered enough to truly start growing. Just to make sure that Nightmare didn't feel worse about the fact he hadn't grown yet. Their baby had had enough stress abotu not being good enough or being wrong. They will not add more to it!

That is another thing that changed since the kidnaping. Cross just gets to call Ngihtmare their baby now! Obviously before they also did it but it also felt dishonest in some way. Not anymore luckily as Nightmare also called them dads!

Cross snorts to himself. if his past self could only see him now. Cross remembers how unsure he was about even taking care of NIghtmare. Look at him now!

Killer rushes off to change as Horror quickly cleans himself up for the party. Cross looks around the living room and smiles. All ready! Cross goes to the door and shouts for Dust that everything is ready.

They wait with excitement as Dust brings Nightmare inside. nightmare glances around at all the decorations and the small pile of presents and the snack table. sockets wide and eye lights so so bright.

Killer grins as he opens his arms wide "Happy Birthday!"

Cross quickly joins in "Happy birthday nighty."

horror nuzzles their babybones and mutters "Happy birthday."

Nightmare looks between them all and looks down with a tiny blush. Shyly he mutters "didn't need to be big and stuff."

Killer grins and waves it off "pppfffft of course we make it a party! How could we not for our little baby~" Killer taps his teeth against the tiny skull in a kiss before skipping over to the cake "come! lets start with the cake before it becomes a fire hazard! Dani and Ellie made it for you and they both wished you a great day as well!"

Cross watches as Dsut brings nightmare over to the cake and nuzzles his skull. Cross listens clsoely as Dust mutters "make a wish Nightmare." and he helps him stay stable to enable him to blow out the candles.

Nightmare glances around befor elooking at the cake. He leans closer, trusting Dust to keep him steady, and blows out the six candles.

they go out together and Killer cheers loudly which Cross joins. Dust just nuzzles Nightmare as horror gives a few claps. It is great and amazing and-

he is crying.

Cross feels terrible and is by Dust and Ngihtmare right away as he gently cleans the small face "It is oaky nighty. deep rbeaths. what is wrong?" did they go too far? trauma response?Bad flashback? Cross tries to think of more reasons but Nightmare sniffles again and shakes his tiny skull.

Dust frowns but it is Killer who knows what to say as he leans close "Hey it is okay. what is wrong? Too much noise? Too many scents? Too bright or something?" They are doing this in the middle of the day but maybe the combination of the bright fire of the candles and the natural sunlight was too much for his sensitive sockets.

Another shakes of the skull.

Cross and Killer share a look as they both clearly try to think of more posible problems.

Dust however watches Nightmare and pulls him closer "big feelings?"

a moment of silence before a tiny nod.

Dust nods himself as if that makes sense and he mutters again "Sad feelings?"

Nightmare clearly thinks for a moment before shaking his skull.

Dust hums and nuzzles him "very big happy feelins then?"

another nod.

Cross isn't sure how any of that makes sense and looks helplessly at Dust for an explanation.

Dust see sthe obvious confusion as he speaks "It is... hard to explain..." he looks at Ngihtmare and Ngihtmare clearly has the same issue.

horror however steps closer and gentle rubs the tiny skull. Horror is always so careful with Nightmare and even when is is so big and strong clearly always knows how to move to never harm Ngihtmare. Cross respects him so much for that.

Horror speaks softly "It is new. and the happy feelings you are feeling are very strong aren't they?"

Ngihtamre glances at him and nods.

Horror smiles as he continues rubbing the tiny skull "and before... before it was easy. You had powers to help you filter emotions and feel it all. Now it is you and all yours."

Ngihtmare relaxes a bit and sniffles before speaking "no... no one really..." he rubs his socket with a sniff "No one was ever... happy i was there... Well dream was but dream was happy anyway... i doubt it would have mattered if i was there... but now.. instead of it being for him... it is for me and i never... no one ever..." another sniff as he looks helpless at them.

horror smiles and rubs his skull "You are happy and relieved but it is a lot and you aren't used to it. it is okay. a birthday can be overwhelming."

Ngihtmare nods again adn relaxes. Cross smiles at him and rubs the tiny cheek "Hey it is okay. the first time these guys threw a party for me I also dind't know what to do or say or how to act. Just relax okay? This is to show we are happy you are with us." and that he exists and is with them and that they love their tiny grumpy child.

Ngihtmare relaxes more into the hold and nods.

Killer grins and cheers "There we go! Ready to try the cake Dani and Ellie made?"

Nightmare gives another nod adn they give him a tiny piece. just to make sure his magic handles it alright but from the looks of it they had nothing to worry about. Cross tastes it and gets why immediantly. the cake is light and fluffy and while sweet it isn't overpowering so. Clearly the ladies tried their best to make something that wouldn't be too heavy or powerful for the babybones.

After the cake they sit in the nest and let Ngihtmare open his presents. The first on he opens is the sets of Dani and Ellie and it are lego sets.

The next present is from Crop and Straw and after opening it they find some art supplies. the present also holds a note that says that while they know Ink is a sensitive spot they both believe that this should not stop Nightmare from the ability to get to draw and play with these type of things.

Cross needed a moment to think about it but he found himself agreeing. Yes Ink is a very sensitive matter but they are right. There are so many things that you can do with art and drawing and just ahving fun and to not have nightmare explore these things as a child just because one asshole they knew was an artist seemed stupid. No pressure of course but the options is there now.

Then it is time for their presents and Cross is a bit more nervous. Nightmare looks curiously at the presents and Dust mutters that these are from all of them combined. Ngihtmare opens the first one and it is a new book set of a very popular book series for thise universe. Nightmare looks excited at the nice cover and Cross relaxes. it took them ages to hunt down the limited edition art cover boxset but it was clearly worth it.

Next present is opened and it is an empty journal and a pack full of colourful pens, with bats on them obviously. Dust nuzzles Nightmare and explains that it would maybe be nice for Nightmare to be able to keep a journal. Just to help himself wiht his thoughts and feelings and what he learns. To be able to write down the thoughts or memories haunting him. To get i tout of his system and mind.

Killer reassures him that while they are all nosy they all already agreed they would not read his journal. that is his for his private thoughts and secrets. That they will obviously listen to whatever worries him but Nightmare gets to decide what to share.

Cross had found Dust's idea perfect. With how close they all where it gave Nightmare very little privacy. This was a way to give Nightmare some privacy and to give him his own personal space to do with whatever he wanted. To reteach him that it is okay to have private thoughts and things that were only for him.

The nest present is another book. a large history book of the country they live in now. As expected Nightmare immediantly opens it and scans a few of the pages before smiling brightly. Clearly it was a hit!

Their last present is a movie. a documentary on bats and Nightmare looks shocked at it. Killer grins and winks "I figured that after the presents we can get comfy and watch this movie together?" Nightmare nods and looks excited at the movie.

And as they said it they got comfortable in their nest and put on the movie. Nightmare hugs his bat plushie close as he watches the movie.

They watch for quite a while until Horror tells them it is time to have a breka and eat a bit before they continue. They stretch out and roll their shoulders. only to turn around and find another present and a card on top.

Ngihtmare blinks and takes the card before grinning widely. Cross looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. Error writes how he is annoyed they didn't leave him a message about the party but that he wishes Nightmare a happy and healthy first birthday and that the present is for him.

Nightmare opens the present and grins at the giant knitted blanket with a cave motive and bats in there. He nuzzles the blanket and purrs up a storm.

Cross grins and wraps their baby up in the blanket before carrying him towards the table to eat a brithday dinner.

*--------------------*

First Drabble/Prompt Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[suffersinfandom]

I feel for the Izzy fans, I really do. It sucks to have your favorite character killed off, especially when you feel like their death serves no narrative purpose. It genuinely hurts to lose a character that you identify closely with, and it's okay to be sad and grieve. The character might not be real, but the grief is. Let people mourn. Don't be rude to the ones who are just being sad in their little corners of the internet, yeah?

That said.

Some of the stuff I've seen in the OFMD fandom today? Worst shit I've seen in a fandom that I love and care about, and grief is no excuse. I know I'm a no one in this fandom and I'm mostly typing into a void, but I've got to get some things out:

The show doesn't deserve to be canceled. None of the creators, producers, or writers deserve to be canceled. Nothing queerphobic, homophobic, or ableist happened.

Izzy's death was not an insult or a cruelty or a targeted attack.

David Jenkins and the rest of the writers did not gaslight and abuse anyone (yeah, those are take I've seen).

It wasn't "objectively" a cheap or meaningless or badly-written death. You can hate it and that's okay, but that's still subjective!

Izzy was not the main character or the "heart" of the show. The heart of the show -- the show itself -- is Ed and Stede's relationship. We have been told as much.

"Ed hasn't faced any consequences for his actions." He has though? He didn't gaslight girlboss his way back into everyone's hearts. Izzy is not Ed's hapless and helpless victim. He was almost beaten to death and ran around in a penitence onesie with a catbell on; I think those were consequences.

"How do you feel when gay characters are randomly killed off to help a straight couple progress their narrative? Not good, huh? That's how disabled fans feel." It's okay to feel that way, but don't make any sweeping assumptions about disabled fans. I'm disabled and I'm gonna say that's not what happened here.

"How dare you kill off this character who's abused, flawed, suicidal, disabled, and queer!" Ed is still right over there, yeah? Check, check, check, check, and check. (Little note: I've seen a lot of "he's not disabled!" Even if you don't buy the kneebrace ((Ed Teach with bad joints is so important to me, shhh)), what about invisible disabilities? What about mental health issues? I'm not here to diagnose a fictional character, but it's clear to me that Ed has mental health problems that dramatically impact his life.)

"It's sick that Izzy died in the arms of his abuser apologizing to him." I don't even know where to start with this one, but I get the feeling that some parts of the fandom only consider physical abuse valid. Mental, verbal, and emotional abuse are pretty fucking damaging and I think it's sick that some folks think they aren't actually abuse.

People who enjoyed the last episode of season two aren't media illiterate. People who love Gentlebeard aren't abusive narcissists.

I just.

I really, truly feel for Izzy fans for I too have lost a blorbo. I'm giving a huge hug to the Izzy enjoyers who aren't out there making threats and calling everyone abusers and being outright hostile to anyone who had the nerve to enjoy this season. Like, I genuinely hope you guys are doing okay, and if you need an ear, I'm game.

[yousaydisco]

THIS GOT SUPER LONG WHOOPS

I can't stop thinking about this post (TL;DR it is about how Kim's life is almost as sad as Harry's due to how he has lived his entire life as horribly repressed, not allowing himself the freedom of his own silliness which is why he is such a good pairing for Harry, since they are both silly) and I started thinking about thoughts

specifically how this knowledge would fit into a swap AU

like a lot of other people here, I really like a swap AU and I think it allows for a fun way to flip each character on its head and examine a Harry who is more cleaned up vs a Kim who is more of a disaster, and how Harry would fit taking a more patient role to a Kim that lost his memory. But! A problem I have with a lot of swap AU's is that Kim just. . . would never be allowed to be a disaster like Harry is.

If Kim was like Harry, who was brilliant and highly capable and basically the perfect detective except for substance abuse problems, explosive personality, narcissistic traits (looking at you, Superstar), and overall impossible to control, he would get fired. He wouldn't be given 500 chances like Harry (presumably) has. So in his swap AU, Kim is still his highly controlled self and Harry is slightly less of a disaster. Enough so that he doesn't drink himself to amnesia at the start of the case, but he is still a mess dealing with all his stuff.

So how did Kim lose his memory? Probably a car accident. Had to get dragged out of his precious Kineema and its completely totaled, he was hold up at the Whirling-In-Rags as he healed and woke up with just. No memory.

And no reason to repress anything anymore.

Some scenes:

Harry arrived at the crime scene days late because he was avoiding work to get drunk, which is also why Jean Vic isn't with him either because he's sick of babysitting him so when he gets to the Whirling and hears that the other officer hasn't been picking up the slack and instead is horribly injured he's like. Fuck!

Kim doesn't remember shit. Not about him, not about the world, but after some time wandering behind Harry all dazed and confused he finally sees Harry's car and GASPS and rushes over. He examines this thing top to bottom and spouts off trivia facts a mile a minute at Harry, who is just standing there like 'I thought this guy had brain damage' but he listens. So patiently.

He eventually does have to stop him though. He says its for the case, but it's really when Kim starts looking at the interior and he doesn't want him to see the mess in there. Or how badly he's taking care of the car.

Harry isn't sure why he's suddenly so insecure about being seen as messy in front of his guy. Whatever.

During the field autopsy Harry, who is horribly hungover, still throws up. Kim still comforts him by rubbing his back, probably went ahead and pull his hair away from Harry's face, and then pats around his pockets for the handkerchief.

Kim gets an inkling of a feeling that he's missing something (his notebook, though he doesn't know that yet) but Harry doesn't notice what is going on in Kim's head yet, when he probably normally would, because his highly highly repressed bi-sexuality is rearing his head because there is this guy just casually touching him lovingly and he can't think.

(Kim probably also lost his gun and badge, it fell out of his jacket when he was being dragged from the car, but Harry told him that in their first conversation. He wouldn't know that Kim is also missing a notebook)

Kim is also putting in all his effort into the field autopsy. He's like, I'm a cop? Okay, let's solve this!

When Harry suggests that Kim get on his shoulders to get the hanged man down he's like, hmm you look strong enough to carry me alright let's try that, and Harry barely has time to register that this guy called him STRONG LOOKING before Kim is climbing on him and he has to try and appear COMPLETLY 100% STRAIGHT.

He succeeds, but mostly because Kim is too focused on getting the corpse down. If he looked at Harry's face it would be very obvious.

But the actual autopsy = Kim probably approaches it mostly fearless. And he's trying to be really observant to make up for his eyesight not being all that great, and he's probably talking out loud about everything since he can't write it down. But it would still be Harry who noticed the bullet. Kim probably compliments Harry on his ability to see it and, again, Harry loses it a little bit.

Kim's interactions with Cuno and Cunoesse helps him unpack a few sense memories of going undercover with juvenile delinquents and he thinks the best way to talk to them is to relate to them. Somehow. All he can remember his trivia facts about Pinball and the best strategies to get a high school, and in between his lecture on it he sometimes breaks into rants about how Pinball sucks actually, and he hates it, and it makes him feel bad for reasons he doesn't know.

Harry tries to make Kim seem less weird by throwing in facts about Contact Mike.

More than anything it just baffles Cuno and Cunoesse.

When Kim hears that "Welcome to Revachol" for the first time he doesn't remember that its racist, but he does know how it makes him feel, so he's instantly pissed off. Harry, who is overall a good guy but has absolutely said racist stuff while drunk and probably the day before, goes off as well and stands up to the racist so Kim doesn't do something WORSE and get in trouble. It's not that Harry is socially aware enough that has a white guy he can get away with more stuff, he wants Kim to like him.

You know how at the end of day briefing in the game has Harry calling Kim so cool, and it feels like that is the moment where Kim is really endured to Harry? In this AU, Kim will say something like hey. We should hang out once the case is over. And Harry, who has a whole thing about feeling like he's terrible and horribly unlikeable and just wants someone to see him as a mess worthy of their time rather than just a fucked up person, finally admits to himself that he cannot repress this anymore and he might have a crush on this super cool weirdo.

(that doesn't mean Harry feels any better about himself, really. He's now just convinced that he has to Fix Himself Completely overnight so that he can actually help this guy regain his memories.)

(OH ACTUALLY! No, Harry doesn't want to help Kim regain his memories. He's not going to actively try and stop it if it happens, but he will secretly hope that he never remembers the world in case they met while Harry was blackout drunk and Kim won't like him anymore.)

A scene where Kim fiddles with Harry's radio and it starts playing disco. He can't help but let out an audible "ew." before switching it to Speedfreaks. Harry is offended to his CORE and they have a playful but still loud/heated argument about music.

THE BOARD GAME SCENE! Harry still gets Suzerainty and when he starts popping out the cardboard pieces Kim just SNATCHES it out of his hands. No apology. And he's having such an obvious blast just poking out the pieces and then taking out every part of the board game so he can see all the components (classic autism moment) that Harry impulsively (classic ADHD moment) buys multiple more board games just to give Kim more fun little pieces to poke out. And Kim loves it, and Harry thinks "I'm winning at making friends. I'm going to win a prize at making friends and the prize will be a friend :)"

They do eventually find Kim's badge and gun and Harry is very happy at that, but Kim is still like. Hmm. Something is missing.

When he finds his notebook he's just. SO HAPPY! He thinks its like being reunited with a friend. Probably hugs it/clutches it tight to his chest. But when he opens it he's like "god damn my handwriting is awful."

Harry asks to read it, mostly joking around, fully ready to steal it when Kim isn't looking, except Kim just. Hands it over. And doesn't stop Harry from reading it. And of course Harry does.

Kim doesn't really KNOW about homophobia so he probably just. Says gay shit all the time. And Harry can't deal with it. The scene with the smoker on the balcony is still really funny but it's less of Harry having a bi-panic moment (he still has elements of it though) but when Kim starts flirting back in earnest Harry is just. Jealous out of his mind. Puts a stop to it ASAP he's like "OKAY WE WILL TALK TO YOU LATER. ACTUALLY ONLY I WILL TALK TO YOU LATER. KIM LET'S GO!"

When Jean comes into the picture and starts arguing with/berating Harry, he's about ready to turn it into an all out brawl right there in the cafeteria, but Kim is like "HEY! You ass! He's been very helpful this whole time! Just because he's a drunk and he smells bad doesn't mean shit!"

Harry has heart eyes.

The tribunal has the injuries reversed, Kim gets shot and Harry gets the concussion and needs to keep Kim alive. Harry, who has been trying to sober up during the case for Kim's sake, takes speed to allow him to stay up to monitor Kim's health and as soon as Kim wakes up he's like "great! fantastic!" and passes the fuck out.

The whole thing with the Phasmid is the first time where Harry nerds out over something and not Kim. And Kim listens. And Harry probably cries because like, it's something he's allowed to like that isn't related to WORK and someone actually cares about what he is like when he isn't DETECTING and it helps him feel like a person rather than the Superstar Cop.

(Right after his rant on cryptids, Kim goes on a tangent about his cool camera and tells Harry every little thing about it and they just. Nerd out together).