#my brain is barely functioning

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hey! I love your writing so much so I figured I’d send a little request!

Could you doing something like Steve hase always noticed Eddie but Eddie is completely oblivious? With some first kiss/love confession?

OH ANYTIME!!! Thank you :) I am always here for pining and love confessions. The sappier, the better. The more nauseating, the better. The more I want to punch a wall, the better. I hope that happens here for you with this one! - Mickala ❤️

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

Steve Harrington’s bisexual awakening was Eddie Munson.

He was 14 years old at summer camp for the last time because “teenagers just don’t go to summer camp, Steven.” Which was ridiculous because it was a summer camp for teenagers, but whatever, not worth arguing with his father about.

Eddie was there, hair longer than most of the other boys, floppy and curly like he was trying to grow it out but didn’t know how to manage it.

If there was anything Steve could do, it was manage hair.

So he walked up to him and offered to show him his routine.

Eddie laughed, honest to god tears falling from his eyes as he slapped his leg.

Steve just stared at him, not used to being laughed at, only with.

But Eddie seemed to sense that he was serious, so he calmed down, but kept a small smile on his face.

“Thanks man, but I can’t afford the shit you do. I just gotta deal with it.”

“I mean, you can have mine at the end of camp if you want. I’ll just buy more.”

Which felt like the right thing to say, but Eddie just looked down at the ground and shook his head.

“Nah. Don’t really need your charity, dude.”

He walked away before Steve could explain it wasn’t charity, he just really like his curls and wanted him to take care of them.

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

It was hard not to notice Eddie at school. He made sure he was noticed.

Everyone said it was because he was a “fairy” and thrived off the attention, even when he was getting beat up.

One particularly nasty rumor said he liked being beat up.

So when 15 year old Steve heard all this, he obviously knew he couldn’t ever say a damn thing about himself or any interaction he’d had with Eddie.

Which was really just the one time he’d accidentally insulted him.

His hair was longer now, just past his chin. The curls looked a bit better, though Steve could tell he didn’t use any type of conditioner, and he tried not to let that bother him.

He watched him though, secretly, when he could get away with it. In the halls or the cafeteria was easiest since he could always say he was staring at a girl if someone asked.

The way he just always walked with his head high, his confidence unlike anything Steve had seen from anyone that wasn’t a jock, made Steve’s stomach flutter.

He heard Carol say “confidence is sexy” enough times to start believing it was true, and that was before he watched Eddie strut around the school like he wasn’t constantly being thrown insults.

He watched as Eddie formed his own little ragtag group of friends, all outcasts because of one thing or another, only building his confidence more.

He watched as Eddie started driving a beat up van to school, making a name for himself as the guy who would sell liquor out of the back on Fridays.

People still teased him, still beat him up, but they were giving him money for liquor for their house parties left and right.

Steve watched.

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

Nancy was amazing, everything Steve wanted and everything his parents wanted.

She was going to have an incredible future, and encouraged Steve to work hard to have one too.

He loved her. He did.

But he still watched Eddie.

Eddie who was standing on tables in the cafeteria, giving speeches that honestly, weren’t that dramatic. Maybe if he was anyone else, people would actually listen.

Eddie who started dealing weed in the woods behind school a few days a week, admitting the liquor thing wasn’t for him when he saw how many idiot kids still got behind the wheel to drive home after the parties he supplied.

Eddie who was unapologetically himself in all the ways Steve wished he could be.

Nancy was beautiful, she was smart, she was determined.

But Eddie was like a forest fire, a small spark that ignited with just a small fan of the flame, his best qualities hidden behind the smoke.

And Steve wanted to burn.

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

Steve graduated. Eddie didn’t.

He didn’t get into college, so his dad made him get a summer job.

Eddie didn’t really hang out at the mall, wasn’t really his scene, but he did come into Scoops occasionally, and apparently only when Steve worked.

His coworker, Robin, rolled her eyes when Steve insisted on scooping his ice cream into the cone, ringing him out at the register, and watching him walk out.

“Are you poisoning him slowly or something? Are you planning on doing something stupid? What’s happening?”

He never told her anything, just shrugged in response.

Until the Russians. Until their stupid truth serum made him spill his guts literally and figuratively in the mall bathroom.

Robin listened as he talked about every moment, every look, every doubt he ever had about his feelings. About how he loved Nancy, he did, but she would never be the one he thought of first when someone talked about a future, about love, about a life.

Robin listened as he cried, sobbed really, explained how he knew it would never happen, but it didn’t stop him from wanting.

She listened until she couldn’t anymore.

“Steve, you’re not alone in this okay? I’m…You know Tammy?”

“Thompson?” He sniffled, finally looking up at Robin.

“Yeah. I’ve had a crush on her for like, two years.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah.”

“But why her? She’s kind of awful.”

Robin laughed, a real laugh, not a drug-induced one.

“Yeah, but she’s also kind of not.”

Steve nodded.

“I know what you mean.”

They were trauma bonded, sure, but they were also just bonded through life’s fucked up ways of bringing people with similar qualities and interests together.

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

If Steve knew the next time he saw Eddie Munson would be when he was wanted for murder, a small part of him actually may have believed you.

Not because he thought Eddie was actually a murderer, but more because he knew what the town thought of him, and would have expected nothing less in the face of the unexplainable.

The three-time senior was kind of fucked if they didn’t figure this out, looking at a lifetime in prison for a murder he didn’t commit.

Steve focused on thinking about that anytime his mind wandered to how Eddie held a broken bottle to his neck, his other hand pushing him back, his leg between Steve’s to keep him there.

Robin pinched him when she could see his mind starting to drift. She was the best.

And as they worked to figure things out, and fight their way through Vecna’s curse, Steve managed to have actual conversations with Eddie.

They weren’t really ever completely alone, no one was while they were figuring things out and making a plan, but they still managed to talk.

It was enough for Steve. Enough to know he could maybe be friends with him when this was over and done. Maybe go to his graduation, maybe help him leave the town that was ready to burn him at the stake.

He didn’t expect it to be it. To be all he got.

So when he saw Dustin sobbing over a bloody body, he didn’t waste time. He had Nancy put pressure on the worst of the wounds, made Robin get Dustin out, he needs to go, started begging, pleading quietly with Eddie to just survive.

“You can’t let the fire burn out yet, idiot. Not now, not like this.”

Nancy didn’t acknowledge what he was saying, but he knew she knew.

He was tearing his shirt into pieces, makeshift bandages the only option for holding him together as Steve found a way to carry him to the trailer and through the gate.

It wasn’t easy, but nothing about any of their Upside Down trauma had been, and Eddie was worth it.

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

Steve waited hours.

Then he waited days.

When a week had gone by, Wayne pulled him into a hug and practically begged him to go home and get some rest.

“Our boy will wake up and we wanna look our best when he does, right?”

He couldn’t really argue with Wayne, not when he’d let him sit by Eddie’s bed with him for days.

He didn’t tell Wayne about his feelings, didn’t really know if Wayne was a safe person to tell, but he figured Wayne knew anyway.

When he managed to sleep for a few hours in his own bed, shower in his own bathroom, and eat an actual cooked meal, he found his way back to Eddie’s room. The nurses no longer paid any attention once Owens and his government buddies cleared Eddie’s name.

He walked into the same scene he’d watched for a week now; Eddie asleep, hooked up to more machines that any human should have to, chest rising and falling slowly.

But Wayne hadn’t made it back yet, hopefully getting more sleep than Steve had been able to.

So he took the chair closest to Eddie’s head, gently brushing some of his hair from his face and reaching down to hold his hand.

Even like this, bruises and scars littering his body and face, he was beautiful.

His fire was still burning, Steve could see it.

He managed to fall asleep like that, holding Eddie’s less injured hand in his, head on the bed against his leg.

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

A hand in his hair woke him up.

Expecting it to be Wayne or Robin, he blinked his eyes open and slowly sat up, ready for another long day of waiting.

But it wasn’t Wayne or Robin.

“Eddie!”

Steve resisted throwing himself at him, knowing he would be in pain, but he let his hands hover over him to show he wanted to.

“Hey Stevie.”

God, his voice was so nice. It was like actual music to his ears. He never wanted to go so long without hearing it again.

“How long have you been awake? Do you need the nurse? Pain meds? Where is the pain?”

Eddie chuckled quietly, small smile visible under his oxygen mask.

“I don’t really know but the pain is everywhere.”

“Shit, okay. Let me go get someone. I don’t even know who’s on shift right now. I don’t know how long I slept.”

“Stevie.”

“Yeah?”

“Calm down.”

Steve let out a disbelieving laugh, barely more than a huff of air.

“You almost died, Eddie! And you’re hurting. I almost-” Steve choked on a wet sob, his throat closing up as tears flooded his eyes.

“You didn’t though. You saved me. I’m here right?”

Eddie’s voice was barely above a whisper, and it clearly pained him to even talk, but he was doing it for Steve.

Steve suddenly realized there was far too much space between them, that if he wasn’t feeling the heat of Eddie’s flames against his skin, he couldn’t convince himself he was still alight.

He gently sat on the edge of the bed, taking Eddie’s hand back in his own.

“I almost didn’t make it in time. You were so pale, Eds. So bloody.”

“But you did. You made it.”

Steve took a shaky breath.

He knew he needed to say it. He needed to tell Eddie why he did everything he could to save him, why he hasn’t left his side except at Wayne’s insistence, why he was panicking so much now.

Eddie squeezed his hand.

“Stevie, you think I didn’t see you watching me? I started to think you were gonna kill me sometimes with how often you just stared at me.” Eddie took a few breaths, closing his eyes as he focused on what he wanted to say and not the pain. “I figured it out there. After Nancy. That’s why I came to Scoops so much. Loved that little outfit.”

Eddie was smirking at him and Steve let out a snort.

“I hated that thing. Robin did too.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that Robin never helped me when I came in either. It was always you.”

Steve couldn’t look at him, not while he was being seen so clearly.

“And all this? With the monsters and crazy people in this town trying to kill me? But you were the quickest to believe me. The one making sure I wasn’t going crazy. And then the one who got me out of there alive, even though I didn’t think there was any way I would.”

“Why didn’t you stick to the plan? You could’ve escaped with Dustin, been safe.”

“Because the world couldn’t lose Steve Harrington.”

“It couldn’t lose Eddie Munson, either.”

Eddie shook his head.

“I think you’re the only one who feels that way.”

“Really? You think Dustin could have handled losing you? Or Mike? He’s a shit, but he cares. And me? How was I supposed to?”

“Steve…”

“No! You don’t get to decide that you don’t matter to people. Everyone loves you and everyone would have been devastated to lose you. Wayne’s been sitting in this stupid plastic chair for a week waiting for you to wake up. You think he would have been okay with losing you?”

“Eventually, yeah.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’ve heard.”

Steve shook his head.

“How do you not see how much people love you?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Steve didn’t quite know what to say to that. It’s not that he believed he was expendable, it’s just that if it came down to someone having to die, he’d rather it be him. Not to play hero, but because picturing anyone else dying was too much to bear.

“You’re loved, too. Every single one of those kids love you like a brother. Robin would probably marry you if you had boobs. I was willing to die to keep you safe, Steve. How can you not see it?”

“It wasn’t just me.”

“No. I wanted all of you to be safe. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the thought of you dying that made me cut the rope.”

“Why?”

“Because I watched you, too. All the time. I did things for your attention. I thought that was obvious.”

Steve shook his head. No way he was telling the truth. He constantly ranted about the popular kids, about how much he hated them and everything they represented. The hierarchy of high school continued into life and he wanted no part of it.

Eddie groaned as he adjusted a bit in the bed.

“I may need to continue this later, Stevie.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Let me get the nurse,” Steve muttered as he got up.

The nurse bustled in only a minute later, followed by Steve, who thought through the entire conversation he just had with Eddie.

Did Eddie…like him?

No way. He couldn’t possibly like Steve. He hated the whole King Steve thing. He’d said so multiple times over the years.

But so did Steve.

He zoned out while the nurse asked Eddie questions and checked his vitals, thinking back to all the times he’d been watching Eddie in school.

How almost every time, Eddie had already been watching him.

How Eddie’s theatrics always waited until Steve was in the same room.

How Eddie glared at Nancy, even when she was helping him.

Steve watched as the nurse put a new bag on his IV pole, explaining to him that this would be a morphine drip that would probably knock him out for another 12-24 hours.

He watched Eddie nod along, past the point of caring what was happening and just wanting the pain to stop.

The nurse finally left, and Steve didn’t wait.

He walked over to the bed, leaning over Eddie.

“You are an idiot,” Steve said, leaning in closer to his lips, grateful that the nurse had removed the oxygen mask and replaced it with a small nasal cannula.

“Am I?’ Eddie asked with a smirk, the lids of his eyes slowly getting heavier.

“Yeah. And I can’t believe I love an idiot so much.”

Eddie’s eyes widened for a second before they started to close again.

“You gonna kiss the idiot or make him fall asleep without one?”

Steve rolled his eyes, but leaned in to place a soft kiss on Eddie’s dry and cracked lips.

Eddie smiled into it, but didn’t seem to have the energy to kiss back right now.

Steve pulled away and rested his forehead against Eddie’s, gently, like he would break if he put too much of himself against him.

“You owe me a good one when you’re not high on morphine, deal?”

“Mhm. Deal, sweetheart.”

Steve blushed at the name, but Eddie’s eyes were closed.

Wayne walked in only a few minutes later, eyes wide.

“The nurse said he was awake?”

Steve nodded from his spot in the chair, Eddie’s hand in his, fond smile on his face.

“Yeah, she gave him morphine so he can rest some more.”

“Good,” Wayne visibly relaxed. “He tell you he’s in love with you yet or do I have to keep waitin’?”

“Well, not in so many words, but, kinda.”

“And you? You told him?”

“I called him an idiot.”

“Close enough.”

Steve laughed. It felt so good to laugh.

Eddie’s fire had spread quickly, the smoke clearing away just enough to let Steve be engulfed in his flames.

Steve was burning, and it was everything he hoped it would be.

[the-merchant00]

This morning when I found out Warrior Nun was cancelled the moment I woke up, I wanted to rant, rage, shout Netflix in the voice of Lilith but I had a fuck ton of work and need to conserve my energy. It’s the end of the day and sadly I still can’t do it since I’m already tired and can’t move like Ava when her halo is depleted. SO! I shall imagine myself pulling up to Netflix’s office in this fashion and beating up the homophobic people who keep cancelling our lesbian shows.

[thirty-five-portland-row]

It is the day of my birth 🫣😳🥳🤩👀✨🎉🎊

[soothingmoonlight]

It never occurred to me before that Maglor might have inherited his singing voice from his grandmother. However, as I was re-reading parts of Morgoth's Ring today this description of Miriel immediately made me think of Maglor.

"Soft and sweet was her voice, and she sang as she worked, like rippling water, in music without words." -Morgoth's Ring, The Later Quenta Silmarillion (II), Of Finwe and Miriel

I can easily see Maglor having soft and sweet voice and enjoying singing while he is doing his daily chores. But I think the similarities between grandmother and grandson do not here. It's quite possible that Maglor's melancholic nature/temperament could be another family trait that he got from Miriel, especially considering how each of their stories end. Miriel, after being reembodied, never goes back to the Noldor and Maglor, after casting the Simaril into the Sea, never comes back among the people of the Elves.

"Then the fëa of Miriel was released and came before Manwë and receivd his blessing; and she went then to Lorien and re-entered her body, and awoke again, as one that cometh out of a deep sleep; and she arose and her body was refreshed. But after she had stood in the twilight of Lorien a long while in thought, remebering her former life, and all the tiding that she had learned, her heart was still sad and she had no desire to return to her own people." -Morgoth's Ring, The Later Quenta Silmarillion (II), Of Finwe and Miriel

"And it is told of Maglor that he could not endure the pain with which the Silmaril tormented him; and he cast it at last into the Sea and thereafter he wandered ever upon the shores, singing in pain and regret beside the waves. For Maglor was mighty among the singers of old, named only after Daeron of Doriath; but he came never back among the people of the elves." - The Silmarillion, Of The Voyage of Eärendil

[iamthecomet]

I would offer my firstborn to see mean!Dew out-mean Rain. Maybe Rain doesn't expect it. Getting a taste of his own medicine. He doesn't expect it to be so hot.

Mean!Dew. My favorite.

~~

"Kneel," Rain orders. Dew's barely in the door to his own room. Rain hot on his heels. Rain kicks the door closed hard enough that the window rattles. He glowers at Dew’s back. Persona sliding into place. Dew wants a firm hand—he’ll give it to him. He’ll give Dew exactly what he’s been hinting at all day—he’ll ruin him.

Dew looks over his shoulder, and Rain catches a glint in those copper eyes that makes his stomach twist. Apathy. Annoyance.

Oh.

Dew waves a hand, the embers in his fireplace roar to life. He shrugs his jacket off, tosses it over his desk chair. Busies himself with the buttons on his shirt. He doesn't look at Rain again. Rain says Dew's name, harsh. Another command. Dew ignores him.

Rain feels like the world tilts under his feet. Dew ignores him a lot. Turns his nose up at Rain's orders in an attempt to make punishments worse. He's used to disobedience, at least initially. But this isn't the same.

Dew's, loose, relaxed. Flippant when he shrugs his shirt off and finally turns to look at Rain. Shirtless, uniform pants slung low on his hips. Nipple rings swaying as he takes a step toward Rain. Dew cocks an eyebrow. He looks amused, like he's cat with a mouse between his paws. But then that makes Rain the--

"Dew--" "Shut up.” Rain’s words die on his tongue. There’s no argument in Dew’s voice. No desperation, no question. And Rain is grappling with what's happening. It’s unexpected. He doesn’t know what to do with the way his cock kicks in his pants at the tone of Dew’s words. At the way Dew looks through him. Past him. Like Rain is a nuisance, a burden. All he knows is he never wants Dew to stop. Rain doesn’t know what to do now. Knows if he opens his mouth he’s going to sound unsure, hesitant. And that isn’t going to work. Not if he wants to keep the upper hand. Though, he’s starting to realize that maybe he never had it. Dew's been playing this game all day. Lulling Rain into this comfortable place where he calls all the shots. But really, Rain's walked right into this. He's let Dew play him. He doesn't want to admit how much he loves it. From the minute Dew dragged his hand over Rain’s chest and up to his throat in rehearsal, Rain’s brain has been racing to catch up. And Dew’s been one step ahead of him. Making Rain chase him, making Rain do all the work just to get here. Where Dew is looking at him like he's an idiot and Rain's cock is twitching to life in his pants because of it. “Why don’t you kneel for once?” Dew says. Satanas, he sounds bored. Rain’s stomach twists again. Is this how Dew feels when Rain treats him like this?

No wonder he likes it so much. Dew gives him every opportunity to back out. Questions him with his gaze in a way only Dew has ever managed to do. Like telepathy. Never breaking character but Rain knows this is his chance to bow out. To go back to the old script or something different entirely. Instead, Rain nods, just a little, just enough. And Dew is on him. Long fingers curling in Rain's hair and pulling until Rain yelps. Dew drags him down to his level, so their noses almost touch. Copper eyes boring into Rain's. "Are you too stupid to follow simple instructions?" Dew spits. "Kneel." Rain does. Isn't sure if he actually decides to or if his legs just give out. His body following Dew's orders long before his brain catches up. He hits the floor hard, pain jolting up through his thighs. His hands fall to his thighs, palm down and useless. Rain won't move them again unless Dew tells him to. They might as well not exist. Rain's already dipping. Static crowding into the edges of his brain. He's never fallen so fast. God he wants to sink into it and never come out. Dew never lets go of him. Unclenching his fist in Rain's hair to shift his grip and curl around one of his seaglass horns. He drags a hot claw over the place they connect to his head, oversensitive all the time. Rain's eyes flutter closed, he whines. Leans into Dew's touch. It's a mistake. The sting of Dew's slap is sharp on his cheek, hot. Rain's eyes snap open. The pain goes straight to his cock. Fully hard now, tenting his uniform pants. He can feel himself dripping already--unable to hide what this does to him. How much he likes it. "Don't look away from me again," Dew demands, and Rain promises himself he won't. Doesn't want to. Rain doesn't want to disappoint him, but he knows that he will no matter what he does. It doesn't stop him from trying. Dew nudges Rain's clothed cock with his boot. Rain hisses, hips canting toward the pleasure-pain he knows that boot will provide. Too eager, he knows, he'll never get it if he acts this way. His cheeks burn, delicious shame flashing through him at his own desperation. He can't help it. Rain knows the game but can't catch up. He's falling into traps he knows how to set. Letting Dew bait him into them. It doesn't matter how good he is at this game from the other side--on this one, he's helpless. He loves it. Dew laughs at him. A low chuckle, dark. The promise in it makes goosebumps break out over Rain's skin. "Fucking pathetic," Dew sneers. He pulls back on Rain's horn, tipping his head back. Dew leans down and spits. It hits Rains' cheek in a thick glob. Burning hot and slick as it slides down Rain's face to his jaw. Rain wishes it had been in his mouth. He wants to taste it. Thinks about sticking out his tongue, trying to catch an errant drip of it. Anything to get a taste of Dew--a piece of him. "Please," Rain murmurs. He doesn't know what he's asking for. The word breaks from his mouth unbidden. He digs his teeth into his cheek to try to keep more from escaping. "You want something, water lily?" Dew says, too soft, a trap. There's something in his tone--dangerous--sing-song, that makes Rain throb. Rain knows better than to nod. He keeps his eyes on Dew's face, keeps his head and hands still. "I want whatever you want," he offers and hopes it's good enough. Dew grins down at him, predatory. Fangs sharp. Rain hopes Dew digs them into his throat. Hopes he draws blood. Rain hopes he wears the evidence of Dew's debauchery on his body for days. Dew reaches for his zipper, fingers tightening on Rain's horn. "Right answer. Open up." Rain does, sticks out his tongue for good measure. Eyes still fixed on Dew's face as Dew pulls his cock free and smacks the head on Rain's cheek. Smearing a trail of salty pre over his cheekbone. "You think you're so fucking pretty," Dew chuckles, mocking. It hits, hard. Rain's cheeks flush darker. He wants to look away, he forces himself not to. Dew strokes himself, tapping the sticky head on Rain's tongue. "You won't be when I'm done with you."

[heliianth]

“You should quit your job,“ Sonic tells him every time he climbs into the window of Rouge's office to bother Shadow while he works. Shadow's only occasionally there, but he knows its so consistent because Rouge regales him with threats of pest control when he isn't. Like he has any power to stop Sonic from going where he wants to.

He takes back what little he can by trying to ignore him. By now he has plenty of practice, but its hard when Sonic's head is close to his and he's spying on what Shadow's doing from over his shoulder with peeping eyes and a discerning expression.

Omega had the usual mishaps with a few mechanists today, but it escalated until Shadow was left filling out a witness report to Tower in order to not have him shopped. Its not terribly interesting, just something that didn't get nipped in the bud in time. But without context, he supposes the words on the page look bad. He's not surprised it prompted the inevitable, he'd almost been counting down to it.

“You know I can't,” he gives up and turns his head to scowl at him. ”Rouge needs it for immunity and I need it for citizenship.“

Sonic leans back, plopping his ass into a rolling chair and spinning across the room.

“Don't do that.”

”They're blackmailing you, Shadow.”

He huffs, “I'm aware!”

Sonic pauses his homemade carnival ride to peruse Rouge's bookshelf. Shadow returns to his work, thoroughly irritated by the redundant and useless interruption. They've had this conversation so many times, he doesn't understand why Sonic keeps speaking on it. It distracts him from his work, it pockmarks his confidence. He's invading his space and his brain, and it's unappreciated, but he can't bring himself to tell Sonic to fuck off like he would in any other circumstance. He started nearly 6 months ago and now Shadow's skin crawls when he has to wear his work jacket.

After a few minutes of blissful quiet, Sonic opens his mouth again. “You know, the islands don't have all this citizenship passcard stuff.”

“Passport.“

”Whatever,“ Shadow's ear flicks at the sound of a book closing. He looks up again in time to see Sonic plop an atlas on the desk. ”They can't get you if you move south. And you can see the stars easier without the light pollution."

”What about Omega?“ Shadow accuses.

A shrug. ”There's been Egghead activity over there recently.“

Shadow shoves the book off the desk to watch Sonic jump out of the way. It hits the floor like a boulder. “I'm not moving to your islands.”

Sonic gives him an annoyed, mean face. One only Shadow sees with any frequency. He bares his canines at him in response, but quickly smooths out his pricked quills and exhales. They can't beat the snot out of each other in here, even though they both need to.

"I don't understand," Sonic says, sounding put out.

Shadow sniffs, returning back to his paper work. ”Of course you don't.“

He hears a scoff in the background, then shuffling as Sonic picks up the mess. Another few minutes pass. Shadow is nearly done with the paperwork when his companion says, in a quieter and more earnest tone, ”I know it would be hard when there's so much stuff in it. But we'd—me and my friends—we would help if you asked. Or if anything happened. Why do you stay?"

The change in approach makes him pause, even as his face scrunches. Sonic knows this disarms him—the juxtaposition. The gentleness.

"You hate humans anyway. And you're clearly not happy. None of you are. Why don't you leave?“

Shadow picks up the pen again, hunching over in an attempt to refocus. If Tower is lucky, he'll be able to handle the incident without much interference from his peers, and they won't be separated. They're lucky he's on their side. It's a good thing, this is a good thing. They have work and benefits and people who like them. He's repaying his dues for Finalhazard, for Westopolis. And he's protecting his... his... from...

He hates it.

He hates G.U.N. He hates the way they hold Rouge's freedom over her head. He hates the way they don't understand Omega. He hates the way they threaten to revoke Shadow's personhood like he hadn't fought tooth and nail for it.

Team Dark is constantly followed by buzzards, and any upturned belly however brief is a potential corpse.

He hates that Sonic is right.

Shadow signs his name on the form. “Because they're like me."

[madameoni]

I'm spending my short holiday off irl work by playing Divinity Original Sin 2 and trying to kiss the skeleton.

Let's see how it goes- if I succeed you might expect some skeleton loving shit besides the vampire loving shit.

[antirepurp]

im gonna love putting him into frontiers and discovering 170 vertices with shit-tier weight painting that float above his head

[ace-alastor-official]

The Titan is refered to as "He" and the Boiling Isles' equivalent of MF is "Mother Titan"

Does this suggest that witches and demons are aware of Papa Titan being genderqueer or am I reading too deep into it

[phantomtwitch]

Chapter Twenty-Eight is up! We've got one more chapter after this one and then it's the epilogue.

Summary:

There was something wrong with Danny Fenton.

Nearly eighteen months after a lab accident left him hospitalized, his friends and family assumed he was still recovering from the side effects of his near-death experience. But after witnessing Danny do something ghostly, they begin to suspect something much more sinister is afoot and set out to save their friend from the clutches of the evil ghost possessing him.

[lovesomehate]

Kevin said :D

[austerulous]

Going through it right now.  I’ll be laying low until the new blog is set up.  Look after yourselves. ♡

[euphoricfilter]

that epic relatable moment when you give your opinion in class about the film you watched and now you regret speaking because what if your opinion was bad even though that’s subjective and everyone probably hates you and thinks your dumb because you just have silly brain and will never be able to fully articulate your thoughts into words so they will never understand the whole point you were getting at

[x-itzzzzzz-x]

i don’t feelike a real person but what does that even mean

i want to be better i want to bev different