#not only did he promptly start explaining them to me - when he got to the one about 'no tattling' he paused and was like 'oh yeah'

[bonewhiteglory]

today in kindergarten volunteer adventures: one of the kids asked me if I had children, which happens at least once every time I go in; the first time one boy asked me if I had kids and then followed it up by asking if I was in 1st grade, which is possibly the funniest combination of questions I've ever been asked. anyway, until today I thought I didn't have children but this sweet kindergartner revealed to me that I have four kids... ages 11, 12, 17, and 88 :D I don't know anything about them yet but happily the kindergartners love telling me things* so I'm sure ONE of them will be able to help me out here. I can't believe I've been a deadbeat mom for like 90 years now. this is especially enchanting to me bc I'm turning 34 tomorrow LMAO

[mokulule]

A Man has Needs part 1

This will hopefully be a short thing, maybe three or four parts. Silly with a small dash of angst for flavor. Also someone needs to stop me from starting new stories, instead of indulging my insanity.

Ship: Dead on Main (Jason/Danny)

It had been an exhausting Friday, people were out celebrating the weekend and payday both. To top it off it was prime petty crime weather too with no rain. It was a patrol that would never end. Crime Alley had really lived up to its name tonight.

Jason was exhausted. Not because anything had been particularly challenging or dangerous, but it had just been one very long night of constant stupid little crimes.

It was five in the morning and his bed was calling him. He’d already stashed his gear in storage on the roof and he was so close to being home he could practically feel the soft sheets, the promise of sleep. The open bathroom window was a bother when he was this tired. Maybe he should have just gone down to the street and walked in the door, but keys also seemed like such a bother right now and more stairs… No, window was fine, he was in.

Bed. Now.

He bumped into something outside the bathroom door. Fuzzily he looked down to see a moving box - odd. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, he’d deal with that in the morning. Bed, comfort, safe.

He stumbled into the bedroom when it turned out the door wasn’t properly shut just pushed mostly closed.

Okay check list. Boots off. What else? Pants off, shirt off. He’d pick up in the morning. Did he forget anything? Toothbrush. He glanced backwards halfheartedly, he’d already left the bathroom; bed was right there.

The bed won. Tomorrow he would deal with teeth.

Tomorrow…

He crawled under the sheets. Warm and nice and safe and mmmmh he snuggled closer to the source, breathing in mint and something biting like frosty morning air. His nose buried into soft short hair and breathed in deep again. Good. Amazing. Safe. Sated.

Sleep.

Oo o oO

Danny turned and stretched with a yawn. He frowned when something held him into place. Must have gotten himself caught in the sheets again. It wasn’t a problem, he just slipped away intangibly, rolling to the edge of the bed to reach blindly for the night table.

Where was the phone? It took him a moment but finally it connected with his hand.

He groaned when he saw the time, it was nearly midday. Jazz would frown at him for already messing his sleep schedule up, but he’d just wanted to get as much set up in his apartment as possible, that had to be an okay excuse? He turned back on his back and looked at the light dancing across the ceiling from the light breeze moving the curtains. 

Okay time to get up. He had another day of unpacking today.

He got out and stretched absently. He turned around intending to make his bed if only to look responsible for when Jazz would come later to see the apartment.

He turned and promptly clapped his hands over his mouth to contain the frightened scream.

There was a guy in his bed! How was there a guy in his bed?! Ancients, what the fuck?!

Wait.

Danny tilted his head, eyes trailed down the muscular and scarred back, to a well shaped butt, which the tight boxers did very little to hide, and then those thighs!

There was a hot guy in Danny’s bed!

Focus Danny. He shook his head and slapped himself for good measure. That wasn’t what was important right now - though those thighs… Ancients, Danny would happily die again crushed by them.

No!

What was important was somehow there was a (hot) stranger in his bed. Danny had not invited him, of that he was sure. He had been unpacking yesterday, there had been no consumption of ghost zone alcohol yesterday, which could otherwise explain the lack of memory.

Which meant the guy had for some reason entered Danny’s apartment and slept with him - in the boring ordinary sense, Danny lamented this fact quietly for a moment.

Danny wasn’t surprised he hadn’t woken up, he slept, well, like the dead. The only thing that would wake him was very loud noises (like his alarm or his Dad’s inside voice) or occasionally his ghost sense.

It wasn’t even that Danny was surprised to find a bedmate. It was rare that Danny slept alone these days. He was, no matter how you put it, a very powerful ghost and he gave off a lot of good concentrated ambient ectoplasm.

Sometime last year the blobs and animal ghosts in Amity had started to join him every now and then when he slept. According to Frostbite it wasn’t so strange. They fed on the energy he gave off and also benefitted from his presence, which apparently radiated safety.

At first he’d been woken up by his ghost sense every time, but he’d gotten to a point where he just subconsciously dismissed the sense when the ghosts in question didn’t have ill intentions.

So Danny wasn’t surprised he wasn’t alone. He’d expected a bit more time to pass before whatever weak ghosts might be around figured out he was here, but you don’t wake up six days out of seven with cuddly animal ghosts in your bed and get surprised by it.

No, Danny was surprised by the fact that it was a guy. A human. A person. With muscled arms and- Oh, Danny realized cheeks heating up, that probably hadn’t been the sheets he’d been stuck in earlier.

Danny covered his face with his hands and groaned in despair.

Why was there a guy in his bed? Why couldn’t there be a guy in his bed for normal reasons? Danny would have brought this guy to his bed for normal bringing a guy to bed reasons.

He crawled onto the bed intending to wake the stranger, but as he reached out for the guy’s shoulder he turned leaning into the touch and sighed like the weight of the world had just lifted off his shoulders.

Danny was frozen, staring at the point of contact. He could sense it now: the man’s malnourished ghost core.

Danny swallowed thickly, suddenly seeing the many scars on the man’s back in a different light and that pure white streak in the otherwise black hair, it all seemed so obvious now.

The man was a halfa, or halfa adjacent. Because that was definitely warm human flesh underneath Danny’s hand.

So incredibly, unbelievably, absurdly this was essentially the same situation as usual, except not at all, because this was a person. Humanoid ghosts and ghosts with human-like or above intelligence didn’t do this. There were social conventions in place and not to mention they were usually powerful enough on their own to not need the ectoplasm.

But this guy was malnourished. He probably never had a good stable source of ectoplasm to properly develop his metabolism. Also to Danny’s metaphysical senses he smelled like he’d done the ghostly equivalent of dumpster diving to survive. Danny’s ectoplasmic aura had to be like the siren call of a buffet table.

Shit.

New plan. Danny was not gonna embarrass the poor guy. The situation was weird enough as it was. Danny was just gonna act like this was normal. Danny woke up with guests practically every day.

This was a person, not an animal, therefore petting was out of the question, so coffee.

Coffee was normal to offer guests. Also Danny needed coffee. He nodded to himself in satisfaction and floated off the bed to enter his combined kitchen and living room. The coffee machine was the first thing he got set up yesterday, clearly smart of past Danny.

It wouldn’t be long before his guest awoke with Danny no longer in the room to supply passive ectoplasm.

Maybe his human stomach wanted food too?

Oo o oO

Jason woke up with his head and nose buried in a pillow that smelled wonderful and comfortable somehow. He breathed in deep, catching mint and that biting cold he vaguely remembered from last night. Now, however he wasn’t dead on his feet, he was awake, more rested than he remember feeling for a long time and his brain connected the details into very alarming facts:

This was not his pillow. This was not his bed.

He sat up, quickly taking in the bare white walls and the stack of emptied and flattened moving boxes leaning against the wall next to a built-in closet.

This was very much not his apartment.

There was a noise of a cupboard clanging shut and Jason’s head snapped to the door that was open just a crack; he was not alone.

Shit.

He jumped out of bed, bending his knees upon impact to soften the sound. He needed to leave. Where was his clothes? His gaze darted around and he hurried to pick up his discarded items of clothing as he found them. Somehow one of his boots had ended up under the bed.

Quickly he pulled on the jeans and the shirt, was he wearing a jacket yesterday? He didn’t remember. Boots on and then he was going out the window- except there was the scent of coffee and something in the air. What was that smell?

He found himself moving to the door instead. The door squeaked as he pulled it open and he froze, hand still on the door handle, when the sound drew the attention of the young man in the kitchen.

His hair was black and sleep tousled, he had a slender athletic build and as he walked around the kitchen island bearing two cups it became apparent he was just wearing boxers. Jason’s inspection ended on his legs, which were admittedly very nice. When he looked back up he found the man standing a cautious distance away and a cute pink blush stretched all the way from his cheeks to his chest. Sky blue eyes looked up a him from underneath slightly frowning brows.

“So, you’re awake,” the man opened with an admirable attempt at a smile considering the situation. There was a beat of silence in which Jason grasped for what to even say, then the man reached his hand forward offering one of the cups, “coffee?”

There were many a thing Jason could say or should say. Like, what the fuck? You’re just gonna offer the guy who broke into your apartment coffee? Or, I’m sorry I broke into your apartment (and bed!)? And, why do you sleep with your windows open and unlocked? This is freaking Crime Alley! Or, what is it that smells so good?

What he actually said was a quiet, “yes, please.”

The cup was warm in his hands as he sipped it. And clearly this was enough for the cute guy because his smile turned more real and he nodded to himself and walked back to the kitchen counter. Jason really hoped that didn’t mean the coffee was poisoned.

“Feel free to take a seat. I hope you like pop tarts, it’s kinda all that I have at the moment.” As if summoned the toaster made a swish noise popping up the tarts. 

Hesitantly Jason sat down at the small square table paired with two mismatched foldable chairs. He really should turn and jump out a window. There had to be some kind of reckoning coming. Maybe the guy really cared about hospitality and Jason would be questioned after the food? Maybe that’s what was going on.

But also strangely his gut was telling him he was safe here? He really had no clue what to do with that.

A paper plate with a pop tart was set down in front of him and after setting down his own pop tart and coffee the man joined him.

Jason was supremely aware of the few inches between their knees. This wasn’t a large table after all and if he moved just slightly they would be touching. But why would he want them to be touching? Why was it so tempting?

Jason clenched his hands firmly and stared down at the pop tart, with an intensity born of the fact that for some reason he had to focus on not knocking knees with a stranger.

“You look at that poor pop tart as if you think it’s gonna explode, that’s not actually what pop tart means, you know.”

Jason looked up at the guy in disbelief.

He rubbed the back of his neck, “yeah that was terrible I know.”

Silence stretched between them and clearly embarrassed the guy hastily took a sip of his coffee and a bite of his pop tart avoiding Jason’s gaze.

Guilt twisted in Jason’s chest, not only did he invade his home he was also making him uncomfortable. His only comfort was the fact that the guy clearly wasn’t afraid of him.

Jason started eating the pop tart. For whatever the reason breakfast was part of the script the guy had decided on to make an attempt at normalcy. What else was Jason to do? He hadn’t fled when he had the chance and-

Oh-

The guy had shifted in his chair, one of their knees were touching, there was a spark and it felt like something uncurled inside him, a weight lifted. Jason blinked. This was…Mint and frost was a sting in his nose, a fullness in his chest. Goose bumps ran along his arms, and it tingled all the way to his fingertips.

Jason snapped his head up, but the guy was just looking at his phone sipping his coffee. As if he couldn’t feel the cold electricity between them. There was no way he could sit like that if he felt it? Was Jason just imagining it? He shuddered and moved slightly, just enough that they weren’t touching and instantly he regretted it. The wave of longing was almost enough to make his vision black out.

The guy looked up with a frown. “You okay, man?”

“Fine,” Jason said hoarsely, desperately focusing on the half eaten pop tart and taking another bite.

When the pop tarts were eaten and the cups emptied the man stood and Jason matched him. Jason wasn’t sure what he expected to happen at this point but it certainly wasn’t the guy, to walk over to his front door with a casual, “well I should get ready for the day.”

It was a clear dismissal. An out for the whole strange situation. Jason stood up and walked over to the door.

The guy opened the door letting Jason out with a short electrifying clap on the back and a “Take care, man.”

Jason was left standing outside the door to the previously empty apartment 4A, several floors below Jason’s own top floor apartment. How did he ever mistake it for his own?

What was the deal with the guy’s touch and why did Jason crave it so desperately?

Unsettled. he started walking towards the stairwell. As he moved further away from the apartment the pull to go back lessened. It was still there, but it was replaced quickly by something else.

He felt rested, energized in a way he hadn’t felt in a long while. There was an urge to do something. He felt like he could take on the world - maybe even Sunday dinner at the manor tomorrow.

Jason laughed. Wouldn’t that surprise everyone?

He was so caught up in the euphoria of productivity and social interactions that didn’t go sour for the next couple of days, that he completely forgot about the strange Saturday morning.

-

If you liked this consider telling me your thoughts in the replies or tags, it is motivating. Now to hopefully write a bit on Catnip.

[lettersofalover]

-> break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored | paige b.

paige b x fem!college!reader

genre: flirty, suggestive, smut 18+

authors note: p.b ilysm, this is just a start of a small college themed series about p & readers fun encounters

the bar was crowded but that’s exactly how she liked it to be. paige thrived under the spotlight but she was in a different type of heaven when the people around her were too wasted to care that she was walking among them. nights out were rare - she didn’t have as much time as she used to - but they were always fun. with the sound of the dj scratching his table, he began announcing that karaoke was beginning. and that was paige’s cue to leave and refill her drink. she checked if her friends needed anything before walking with her head low towards her favorite bartender - she didn’t have to even ask for a drink or pay, the bartender and barback both had class with paige and she was happy to have friends in high and low places. she drummed her fingers on the bar and watched her drink being made when felt people crowding around beside her.

“fuck off,” a voice spat out beside her and she turned her head to look at the scene that was unfolding. you were shorter than her so all she could see was the back of your head as you flipped off a man, who, looked like he belonged to a fraternity on campus and for a second, she thought a fight was about to break out. the man stepped closer and pecked you on the forehead and you welcomed it with an eyeroll and a shove. “don’t kiss me, you owe me a drink.” you laughed. paige turned away from the exchange just as you did and you stood square at each other, your eyes meeting hers, before she turned her focus back to the bar. she’s straight, paige thought to herself, they always are.

it wasn’t lost on her that you were hot. it sure as hell wasn’t lost on her that you were built exactly how she liked. it also wasn’t lost on her that you were clearly straight and not at all single. you stepped on the footrest of the bar with both feet and leaned over the counter, yelling at the bartender with a sugary sweet smile. paige was sure she was going to see you get bitched at by being obnoxious but you got her attention and were met with a squeal of delight. the bartender was holding paige’s drink in her hand as she began to gawk at the sight of you - only a few feet away from paige.

“shut upppp, people start studying for the lsat and think they can just ignore their friends.” the bartender teased, placing paige’s drink out of reach seemingly unaware that she was holding it hostage.

“no more studying,” you beamed. “i fucking passed!” you had to shout over the sound of drunk girls giving the most humiliating performance of a sexy back by justin timberlake. paige watched the bartender go on and on about how proud she was of you - while paige’s drink sat across the bar.

paige didn’t want to interrupt and as soon as she worked up the courage to grab her drink, the bartender turned to pour a shot into a rimmed glass. paige was stunned at the size of the drink, if that was a shot she would have choked trying to get it down. she watched patiently as you grabbed a lime from the counter, putting it in your mouth before squeezing it on the back of your hand. the bartender promptly poured salt on your hand before picking up the entire bottle of tequila.

“this is for me,” the bartender explained and pulled the glass of tequila towards herself, “and this, my love, is for you.” she placed the bottle in front of you and you groaned. paige watched as the bartender took the glass shot before asking if you were ready for your pour. you stepped off the footrest and steadied yourself.

“open wide.” she teased and you did just that. paige tried to pretend that she wasn’t watching but was doing a terrible job. the tilt of the bottle poured a straight line of alcohol down your opened mouth. paige was enthralled with the shape of your tongue - the curve of it alongside the eager licking motion you did sent her reeling, a blush forming on her face. it felt oddly intimate. the bartender poured while praising you, “atta girl, taking it like a champ.” which sent a throb through the athletes stomach. how could taking a shot be so sexy. you tapped on the bar signaling you couldn’t do any more. as she pulled the bottle away, paige’s eyes flicked to yours and you grinned at the tall girl. maintaining eye contact you lifted the back of your hand to your tongue, taking the longest, drawn out and exaggerated lick of the salt - sucking it off in one swipe. paige smiled and bit the inside of her lip before turning to the bartender.

“my drink?” she asked and the bartender handed it over with an apology. “ ‘s all good.” paige replied with a glance between the two of you. she took a sip and leaned back on the bar trying to scope the easiest path back to her friends before her head turned right back to your side profile.

“you got a lil something…” paige motioned toward the corner of your mouth where tequila had spilled from the pour. you touched your face, finding the spot then dragged your index finger up your chin and into your mouth. you took your time sucking and pulling out your finger.

“what’s your name?” you stood on your toes to make sure she heard you. she leaned down and into your tilted neck, brushing dangerously close to your ear.

“paige.”

“nice to meet you, i’ll see your around?”

“maybe.” she answered. paige wanted to catch what you were laying on her but she didn’t want to assume that you were into girls. she was tired of being in situationships with women who ultimately were just going through a phase. she didn’t need that kind of drama, especially right now. she just wanted a night of fun. the bartender called your name and chastised you.

“stop trying to fuck my friend,” the girl chastised from behind the bar, which made you giggle and paige lifted an eyebrow, “you’re crowding the bar.” you threw your hands up in mock defeat. you took one more long glance at paige, blew a kiss to the bartender, and made your way through the crowd.

paige turned to the bartender and tilted her chin down without saying a word, getting an eyeroll in return.

“she straight?” paige asked, pointing with the cup in her hand.

“not even a little a bit.”

“she single?” paige continued to inquire as another person stepped up to order a drink.

“now that is something no one knows.” she answered honestly, leaving paige to search for the answer on her own.

—

you had to be single. there was no chance that you would be in the back closet of the bar, with your leg thrown over paige’s shoulder while she ate you out and not be single. she refused to believe it purely because she wanted you so damn bad and she wouldn’t find any fuck’s to give if you were dating someone. she wanted you and got you exactly where she wanted you to be: whimpering and cursing as she used her skilled tongue. paige’s tongue was sloppy and hot against your core and she was so turned on by how vocal you were. you were shuddering, legs twitching, and just falling to pieces all over her tongue. she could feel you teetering on the line of an orgasm so she got off her knees. you began to protest but immediately gasped at her two fingers inside of you, moving them in a beckoning motion as they hit all the right places. you were still gasping as she talked to you, so close to your mouth but feeling so far away.

“you like that?” she asked breathing in your gasps and merely nodded, “can’t hear you…” she went deeper inside you, forcing you to speak up.

“jesus, i love it.” you managed through heaving breaths which she smiled at. paige’s mouth connected with yours, the kiss slow and sloppy due to you being on the brink of your orgasm. “please don’t stop.” you begged with another sweet whimper. it was music to the blonde girl’s ears.

“i won’t.” she promised and proceeded to go even harder, surpassing your expectations of how good this quickie was going to be. you closed you eyes as you rode the rush of adrenaline that came pulsing through your body. you weren’t sure how you were still standing, every part of your body was on fire and weak. you were stunned to say the very least and then paige began talking you through it and you lost your mind. her voice was velvety compared to the ringing in your ears. she kept telling you how “good you feel.” and how “tight you are, baby.” before sending you reeling into the abyss with a final, “are you going to cum for me?”

after getting yourself together and breathing normal, you couldn’t help but giggle as she showed you her hand which was completely covered in evidence of your orgasm. she let out a hearty laugh and said, “that’s a first.”

“what?” you asked as you pulled up your thong and then you jeans with a wiggle.

“you came so hard, i don’t know what to…” you cut her off mid sentence knowing she was searching for something to wipe her hand off. instead of letting her, you grabbed her wrist and licked every bit of yourself off of her, making her laugh even louder. you gave her a satisfied grin as you bent down to pull up your leather pants and wiggled to get yourself situated. she ran a hand through her hair as she pulled out her phone and cursed.

“they better not leave me,” she dialed her friend and put a finger to ear to block out the bass and shouting from outside the closet. she turned to the door to listen to her friend, “i’ll be there in a minute just wait, ok? i’m being so serious give me a minute. don’t fucking leave me.” she argued half joking, half serious. she hung up the phone and stuck it in her back pocket and turned back to you.

“i’ll see you around?” she smiled down at you and all you did was shrug. paige looped her fingers through the front belt loop of your pants and tugged you closer to her frame. “i’ll see you around, right?” she reiterated with a more serious tone as you looked up at her through your long lashes. paige came to the realization that she just loved looking at you - you were just too pretty for your own good.

“i’ll make sure you see me.”

[whumpback-wail]

06 -  Embrace

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

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IMPORTANT NOTICE: Reminder that this fanfic contains dark and mature themes. The TW/CW are in the masterlist and are constantly updated as I add each chapter. Please reread the warnings, proceed only after you reread the warnings. If you don't like/can't handle the topics mentioned in the TW/CW, please DO NOT read. This work is 100000% fictional and any similarities to real life people and events are purely coincidental, and none of the characters (especially the villains) are real. Again, please DO NOT read if you are not certain you can handle these topics or are in a bad place mentally. Minors are strictly forbidden. I only create content, and I am not responsible for your personal content preference and moderation. If you think you will not like this story, please just scroll away. You have been warned.

The snow fell slowly, painting the streets of Fontaine white. Wriothesley's black jacket a stark contrast that stuck out against the white landscape as he briskly walked towards the hospital.

(y/n)...

The anger had slowly subsided, taking its place was a mix of guilt, worry, and something else he couldn't put a finger on. All he wanted that moment was just to hold her in his arms again, and let her feel safe.

Like muscle memory, he walked straight towards her room, but was stopped by a nurse.

“Your Grace, (y/n)’s room has been moved to a different one, a fire seemed to have started there but we managed to catch it before it caused too much damage.”

He cussed under his breath, “where’s (y/n)? Is she okay?”

The nurse nodded, “she’s alright, just a bit shaken. She told us fire suddenly burst out of the book by her nightstand just as she was reaching for it.”

And we’ve only got the information on vision injections today, what’s with this timing.

“Take me to her room.”

“Certainly, right this way, your Grace.”

The nurse, while explaining to him everything that happened, led him to a different floor from (y/n)’s previous room. He immediately knew which room (y/n) would be in once he spotted Navia’s 2 men in front of the door, who promptly stood up and gave him a salute, to which he nodded politely.

“Oh right,” Wriothesley turned to the nurse just as he was entering the room, “there are some new updates for everyone we rescued from that facility, one of Spina di Rosula’s men will be here soon with a copy of the files. Guys might need them for medical purposes.”

When he entered the room, his eyes immediately landed on (y/n), who he initially thought was asleep, until she opened her eyes. She must have noticed his grim expression, because she immediately sat up.

“Wriothesley? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, taking a seat next to her. He wanted to spill everything and tell her that he knew everything. The things they did in the facility, the experiments, her… assault. But will it cause her to have another panic attack? Does she even want to know, or does she want to just forget? Does she have any idea what happened and how she could set fire to her book? Does she know her vision is still with her even now?

He blinked back his tears, refusing to meet her eyes, but (y/n) could tell from the way he gripped her hand, it was something serious.

“Wriothesley, love, you can tell me,” (y/n) placed a hand on his cheek, to which he automatically leaned into. “I can tell you’re probably worried about my mental state, but hey my therapist told me I’m doing well!”

He recalled, clear as day, the number of times he had tried to bring up questions about what happened at the facility. (y/n) had only managed to explain bits and pieces of information, but had been only the things she knew, she did mention painful injections but didn’t know that it was her own vision that was injected into her. Those sessions had always ended with her crying and panicking. He didn’t want to put her through that.

He smiled bitterly, “I know you are… I just don’t think you’re ready for this.”

(y/n) swallowed, “is it… is it about me?”

Wriothesley nodded, eyes still averted.

(y/n) squeezed the hand that held hers, “I… I think I’m ready to know more.”

Wriothesley looked up, now his steely blue gaze met with her concerned yet nervous ones.

“Are you sure?” his thumb rubbed circles into the back of her hand.

(y/n) took a deep breath, “yeah, I’ll tell you if it gets too much.”

Wriothesley nodded, and told (y/n) everything he learned. The experiments, the vision injections- (y/n) was really shocked at this, although she had a suspicion about it when she saw her book catch fire so suddenly. As he spoke, Wriothesley kept a close eye on her expression and gestures. He’s been with her long enough to know if she’s uncomfortable, or if it gets too much for her. Whenever her breathing hitched, he would stop for a bit and rub her back until she gestured for him to continue.

“That was all we got from the notes left behind at their base,” Wriothesley eyed (y/n) carefully. She was playing with a loose thread poking off the end of her blanket, eyes distant and looking as if she’s processing all the information.

Wriothesley knew he had to keep going. “and now we have Dougier under our custody.”

At the mention of his name, (y/n) visibly tensed up, “oh…”

“I heard he assisted in some of the experi- procedures.”

(y/n) hesitated, “did you manage to get more information out of him? Like how do we reverse the vision injections? How do I control it?”

“Apparently only Arderne knows that bit of information,” Wriothesley sighed, shifting nervously, “and right now he’s still at large. I assure you we’ll get him, and that you’re safe here, okay?”

(y/n) nodded.

The room fell silent for a few tense moments. (y/n) picked up her blubberbeast plushie and held it to her face. It smells like Wriothesley, as he had sprayed his cologne on it. It brings a feeling of comfort to her, as if a reminder that she is never alone and that he’s with her and keeping her safe even when he’s not by her side.

Watching her, Wriothesley hesitated, but he had to- need to ask her.

“(y/n).”

Sensing his change of tone, (y/n) tensed, her hand stopping mid stroke down her plushie’s back. She turned to him.

He seemed to hesitate, looking down at her blanket instead of her face. The silent stretched for what felt like hours before he finally raised his gaze to meet her eyes.

“At the facility- no. uhh… How do I say this.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “How… How often do you throw up?”

(y/n) blinked, confused. “what?”

“Every morning these last few days, you wake up and rush straight to the bathroom. We did think it was a stomach bug, but when I asked the nurses for the diagnosis, it was as if they're hiding the information from me.”

She couldn’t breathe. It felt as if her blood was frozen but it burned at the same time. Fuck he knew. Wriothesley knew. He’s always been so observant how did she think she can even hide this from him?

“(y/n)... Are you hiding- uhh… Are-Are you pregnant?”

It was like a dam that burst. A sob escaped (y/n)’s lips, one that she tried to hold back but failed. That was confirmation enough for Wriothesley, who felt his own tears prickling behind his eyes. A split second later, (y/n) shot out of her bed, and with wobbly steps using her crutch, went straight to the bathroom. Wriothesley had gotten up to help, but was pushed away feebly. Quickly, she threw open the lid of the toilet and expelled the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

“(y/n)-”

“Don’t-” (y/n) sobbed, flushing the toilet and sinking down even lower onto the bathroom floor, “I don’t want you to see me like this. You shouldn’t have known about this.”

Wriothesley paused, then slowly took another step towards her, hands open as if trying to calm a scared animal. Before he had a chance to speak, (y/n) continued.

“I feel so dirty and gross. No matter how many times I showered and scrubbed myself I can still feel his hands.”

He took a step. “(y/n)...”

“I was going to take care of the abortion process myself, and just forget everything that happened. I didn’t want to tell you. I’m so sorry I couldn't tell you. I just feel so disgusting.”

Another step. “Darling please-”

“I don’t want you to look at me or think of me differently, I just want to put everything behind me, pretend none of that ever happened and just go back to how everything was.”

Wriothesley slowly sank to his knees beside (y/n), who scooted away from him, as if by reflex.

“Don’t touch me. I-I can’t… I know you’ll probably feel disgusted and hate me for it, for hiding it from you, for everything-”

On the contrary, seeing (y/n) like this only served as the final trigger that released his tears, which finally flowed freely down his cheeks. All he wanted to do was hold her and keep her safe, tell her he loves her and… She looked so broken he just wanted to hold her. Archons, please let me hold her.

“I’ll disappear from here if that’s what is best. Just say it. You don’t want me anymore-”

”(y/n),” his voice shook, “I’m so sorry that happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to get you sooner. No one deserved to go through what you did. Everyday I hated myself for it, I kept thinking I should have done this, or that. I should have gotten you sooner.”

(y/n) wiped her tears, only for it to be replaced by more. Her vision was blurry as she tried to look at him. Part of her was glad about it, as it probably hid the disgust in his eyes.

“I’m not disgusted by you, no, that was the furthest thing from my mind. (y/n) may I hold you? Please?”

(y/n) just kept sniffling and wiping her tears which seemed to flow endlessly, but made no move to scoot further away, so Wriothesley slowly approached her and took her hand in his. He placed a gentle kiss on it, which only made her cry even more.

“I’m sorry darling, I’m so, so sorry.”

He gathered her in his arms and held her tightly, as if afraid that she would disappear as soon as he let go.

(y/n)’s voice quivered as she asked “y-you don’t hate-”

“Sshhh…” Wriothesley placed a kiss on her forehead, his own tears fell off his cheeks and onto hers. “Something like this can never make me hate you, I promise. I understand why you wanted to hide it, but please know that you don’t have to. We’ll figure out our next step together okay?”

He didn’t know how long they both sat there on the bathroom floor, crying in each other’s embrace. It took a long while for (y/n)’s sobs and sniffles to die down. He kept one hand on her back, and the other stroke her hair, hoping to provide as much comfort as possible.

I love her.

“I wish you can see yourself through my eyes,” Wriothesley whispered in her ea, “it’s gonna be okay. I promise you, (y/n).”

His words were met with silence, as it has been the past few minutes.

“If nothing else I say sticks, at least please let this be the one thing you remember. It’s not your fault. I love you (y/n), you’re still the same old (y/n) I know and love, and Archons, no matter what happens I can’t imagine a life without you. I love you so much (y/n), none of this is your fault.”

He decided to wait a little longer before he noticed that her breathing was slower. Wriothesley peered at her face and saw that her eyes were closed.Tear tracks were still present on her cheeks, which he wiped away with his thumbs, before placing a gentle kiss on top of her head.

Slowly he shifted his position so that he was carrying her in a princess carry, with her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He walked over to her bed and gently laid her down, tucking her in under the blanket, and placing her plushie right beside her.

For some time, he sat beside her, just admiring her features and tracing her cheeks all the way to her jaw with the back of his hand, light as a feather.

“We’ll get through this together, you and me. I promise you.”

[<<< previous chapter] • [masterlist] • [next chapter >>>]

(っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ(ノ_&lt;;。)

If you think reading this chapter is hard, imagine writing it :”D emotional damage

Apologies for the late update, and perhaps a steady decline in writing quality (I’m no writer, just doing this for fun!) as I have been swamped with work this past week after I was down with a bad cold for quite a bit (there’s been a bug around, and so many people were sick :”D) I sincerely thank all of you for your continued support for this series, I love you guys. Hope you all stay safe and healthy!

I hope the next chapter won’t be as hard to write because hoooo BOYE. my bf had to comfort me after I finished writing this chapter.

Taglist: @almosteggs @quuela @tempest1art @yamanaka13-blog @arseneumbra @kimmeaahh @cottonfluffs @randomidk-123 @applejayee @keigo-hawks-takami-simp @mechanicalbeat1 @aribae14 @bforbiblio @supernerdycookietrashblrr @furblrwurblr @chifuyus-kitty @bunnibabe @the-real-fandom-person @idawnghoul

[muddyorbsblr]

slipping between future and past [SAS secret santa 2023]

View the full SAS Secret Santa 2023 Masterlist here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: You give your friend a few pointers on what to know about Yule, and come across a familiar looking stranger in your bookstore.

Pairing: Loki x Reader/OC Talia Williams

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, please leave I'm asking nicely); unprotected p in v sex; cunnilingus; magical restraints; language; possibly wonky interpretation of time travel & timeslipping; possibly wonky understanding of Yule [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship; still written in 2nd Person POV like my other 'x Reader' stories, but this time Reader has a name and it's "Talia Williams"; this is a secret santa request for @acidcasualties

Dick-tionary: smut starts at "the feel of your hands being brought" and ends at "as he marked your skin"

It was uncharacteristically slow today in the bookstore, barely a handful of people walking in, browsing for a few minutes, and then promptly exiting when they see that you didn't carry the middle school dystopia book series all the kids were raving over. It was a colossal waste of their time and yours, considering there would have been less effort had they just taken even a cursory look at the sign by the door.

You didn't carry children's books. Classics, Myths, and Romance only.

Of the number of people that walked through the doors that you could count on your two hands, you could only count those that actually made a purchase with one. Half of one.

The sound of the door chimes brought your attention to the entrance again, seeing your friend Ariadne bounding into the front area of the store with a frantic look in her eye. "Talia," she panted, headed straight for you. "Babes, I need your help. Are you busy? You got a customer back there?"

"Nope. Just me," you called out, stepping out from behind the counter. "What's wrong? What do you need?"

"Okay so…you know that guy I'm seeing?"

"Uhh…I think so? Lee, right?"

"Leif. Think trees, Babes. Anyways, he wants me to meet his family and apparently they're super into the ancient Norse traditions, so I need a crash course on how they celebrate Christmas." She paced back and forth by the table that held the New York Times bestsellers that you did hold stock for, picking up a copy of the stalker dark romance duology. "His sister likes to read, you think she'll appreciate this?"

You immediately rushed over to her, grabbing the book and nearly slamming it back down on the stack. "You gotta let them crawl before they walk. Let alone sprint," you explained, giving her Beautiful Bastard instead. "This should be a good enough in between, just in case she's not into guns being shoved up anyone's vagina--"

Up where?! she shrieked, grabbing the first book again, along with the sequel and the book you were handing her. "Okay I'll take that for his sister, and these two for me."

"This is exactly why we're friends," you quipped, ringing up her order. "Now about that other thing…you do know that just because I own a bookshop, it doesn't mean that I know everything about everything, right?"

She rolled her eyes at you. "Yeah, but I also know that you live for all these myths and folk tales, so I bet you know a thing or two about Viking Christmas."

"Alright fine. Find a chair and settle in," you said with an overly dramatic wave of your hand. "First things first, it's not called 'Viking Christmas', it's called 'Yule'. Immediately if you wanna get on his family's good side, you say Good Yule because it shows that you did at least a customary Google search before you stepped foot on their property." You handed her a small notepad and a pencil. "You're gonna wanna write this down."

When her scribbling down stopped, she perked up with a question. "Do they have a Santa Claus?"

"Yes and no," you answered her, prepping two cups of coffee and handing one over to her before plopping down on your own seat in the reading nook, your favorite one in the entire shop. "Santa Claus is what we call who the Brits refer to as 'Father Christmas'. The Brits got that from 'Yule Figure' from the Viking mythology and Mr Yule Figure himself is...Odin."

"Wait wait hold up." She shot up her hand like a kid asking questions in class. "So Odin is Santa? He goes around little Viking kiddies' neighborhoods and slides down the chimney to give them wooden axes and swords?"

"Hmmm not quite. The whole making a list and checking it twice to give the good little boys and girls presents on Christmas is...not quite how the Vikings do it. Instead they engage in something called the Wild Hunt, where Odin aka Big Yule Father Kahuna calls on his posse of gods and plays a game of non-consensual hide and seek with the living souls. So us being the 'living mortals', we have to find a safe enough hiding place that Odin and Thor and the rest of the Norse gods don't find us, because if they do…they drag us to the Underworld."

"Okay first of all, yikes." Ariadne made a big show of shuddering in her seat over what you just told her. "Can't it be something a little bit less morbid? Like if Thor finds you he drags you to his den of iniquity and has his wicked way with you?"

"I mean it's all myths and folklore anyway," you shot back with a small shrug as you finished off your coffee. "So maybe when the big girls are off in their own corner, we can smut it up and pretend that if someone other than Odin finds us, we can get some happy fun times." You both broke out into giggles at your wording. "And when we're telling the story to the smaller kiddos, we say that the gods only go after the naughty kids. Keep with the spirit of Christmas and all that." You wagged a finger in her direction, giving her another suggestion. "Or in the case of meeting Leif's family, just think which one's gonna have him more devastated, your soul getting dragged into the Underworld or your body getting dragged to Thor's man cave."

She wrote down some more notes on her little notepad before standing up, brimming with excitement. "Okay I think that's all I need. Hopefully…"

"Babes, you're there to meet the family, not get gatekeeper gamer boy levels of interrogated on what you know about Yule. As soon as you don't say 'Merry Viking Christmas', you're in the clear."

She squealed, rushing over to wrap her arms around you and give you a tight squeeze. "Thank you thank you! You just saved me from looking a total ditz meeting his family. I have a really good feeling about this one, you know?"

You gave her a squeeze back, happy that she was finally in a relationship that felt stable enough to start on that family she'd always wanted.

Maybe one day you could be so lucky with your own love life.

"I'm really happy for you, Aria. Let me know how it goes when you get back, okay?"

You worked on wrapping up the book she intended to gift Leif's sister as she asked you another question. "What about mistletoe? Do they have that in Yule?"

You scrunched her nose and shook your head at her question. "Yes and no again. Yes, they've assigned meaning to the plant but no, you don't kiss under it for fear of spending the next year all alone. They believe it to be a symbol for fertility, so it's been known for couples to hang it above their headboards so that their holiday fun times might lead to a child. It's also seen as a symbol for new life or resurrection because there's another folktale that says that Loki fashioned a weapon from the mistletoe plant to kill Baldur, and Frigga's tears turned the white berries red and resurrected her fallen son. Which if you ask me is a steaming pile of horse shit that's almost more ridiculous than how Siegfried was felled in the Nibelungenlied, but that's a story for another day."

"Hold up, but isn't Loki also a son of Frigga?"

You shrugged. "Who knows what's real and what's not at this point? These tales are thousands of years old. All we know right now is that Thor's real and he's friends with a billionaire that made a fancy iron suit and a soldier from the 40s that doesn't even look like he's hit his mid-20s. And that he dated an astrophysicist. Tell you what, if I ever meet him, I'll ask him myself. Maybe I'll even ask him what exactly goes down in the Wild Hunt if they still do it in this century."

"Ooh, if he walks into the store please text me?" You gave her a questioning look. "What? He's my hall pass. Leif knows all about it. Natasha Romanoff's his."

You handed her the gift-wrapped book. "Pinky promise, I'll tell you as soon as a 6'4 muscular Barbie looking dude from Asgard swinging a hammer and summoning thunder and lightning walks into my shop. Maybe I'll even text you if the Black Widow herself walks in so that Leif would owe a favor or two."

"Hey, it could happen," she quipped, sticking her tongue out at you like you were back in the sandbox. "We're in New York, after all. And Avengers Tower's just a ten minute walk away. You never know, you know?"

"Right," you breathed, waving her off as she neared the door. "Merry Yule."

"Merry Crisis," she shot back, blowing you a kiss as she stepped into the cold New York night.

You started cleaning the store so you could close up for the night when a new voice pierced through the quiet.

"I appreciate your refusal to believe that hokum about the mistletoe, darling. It warms my cold Jotun heart knowing that it's safe in your brilliant hands."

Large hands found themselves at your waist before your new visitor's arms wrapped around you from behind, your body going frigid at the action. "Who--?"

"Oh no..." He immediately released you from his hold, allowing you to come face to face with a towering man with onyx curls and a devastatingly handsome face that seemed vaguely familiar. "I must have gone back too far this time." He took a step toward you, his hands twitching in your direction as if he wanted to go back to where he was just a few seconds ago. If you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn't object. "Sweetheart, who am I to you?"

"What? This time?" You raised an eyebrow at him, confusion coating your words. "You trying to tell me we met before? Because trust me I'd remember meeting someone that looked like you."

"Who am I to you? What do you know of me?" he asked again, his brows upturned at the center of his forehead, his expression reminding you of a baby kitten pleading for affection.

"Not much," you admitted. "You look like the guy that tore up a hole in the sky and rode some space chariot while leading an alien army that laid waste on the city that I call home...and the guy that went up against Iron Man and his friends, including that big green scary monster looking dude."

He hung his head, looking down at the ground as he let out a long sigh. "I don't just look like that guy, darling, I--" He exhaled sharply before composing himself again. "I am that guy. Well, I was. And Banner's honestly not that terrifying once you get to know him." He looked at you again, seeing your hand and beginning to look emotionally deflated. "I went too far back."

"You know who else you look like?" you asked him, a smirk playing at your mouth as you reached for the chain around your neck, showing him the ring that hung in its center, closing the distance he put between you. "You look like my future husband."

The relief was written all over Loki's face as he eyed the ring he'd given you, a brilliant smile gracing his features when he pulled you into his arms and laid his lips on yours.  You melted into the kiss, pressing yourself against him as the god's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer.

"My darling little mortal," he mumbled against your lips. "Somehow managing to fool a trickster god, for any amount of time, is a feat in and of itself." He kissed you again, lifting you off the ground and spinning you in a circle when you put your arms over his shoulders.

"Well you said it yourself, I'm brilliant," you answered him back when you pulled away, your fiancée keeping your feet off the ground. He adjusted his hold on you to hold you up by a single arm, making you giggle when he started walking toward the front door and made your keys materialize in his now free hand. "What're you doing, Mischief?"

"You're finished here for the night," he stated simply, all the lights turning off, along with the doors locking closed, and the sign in front flipping to "Closed" to indicate you'd retired for the night, with a simple wave of his hand. "I'm taking you home, little mortal. Close your eyes."

A breeze flew by your face and the next thing you knew your back was pressed against the familiar wooden column of your kitchen area. Loki crushed his lips to yours in a desperate kiss, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as he pressed your chests together, hands traveling down the sides of your body to wrap your legs around him.

The feel of your hands being brought above your head despite the god's hands still roaming and grasping at your thighs had your eyes snapping open, breaking the kiss with a little squeak from the back of your throat as you looked up. A thrill shot up your spine seeing a thick glowing ring of Loki's seiðr fastened around your wrists and keeping you tethered to the column behind you.

"I could not decide whether to reward you or punish you for getting the better of me earlier, my love," he rasped, latching his lips to your neck and sucking a bruise into your skin. He smirked against you when you started whimpering and arching into his touch within seconds. "So I shall do both."

You let out a whiny sound that had him lightly grasping your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip to coax it into a pout. He kissed you again, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. Then another ring of his seiðr appeared at your hips, keeping them flush against the column as both rings began to lift you up, your feet soon leaving the ground until he was eye level with your pelvis.

He made a motion with his hand and suddenly you felt a breeze all over your body as he bared you to him, your clothes disappearing in a flash of green.

"Loki…" you whined, squirming under his predatory gaze as another ring of seiðr went around each of your legs, just above your knee, and opened you to him.

"I've not been home in ages, my darling mortal," he rasped, not taking his eyes off of your arousal as he licked his lips. "And I am famished." He took a step closer to you, lightly running his fingers up your inner thigh.

"Let--Let me down, then," you said shakily, feeling your walls quivering and clenching around nothing as he traced up your inner thigh again, only this time with the tip of his nose before pressing a tender kiss to your skin. "I can fix us something to--"

"Oh no, sweet Talia." He kissed you right below your belly button, groaning into your skin. "I do not crave food, my love." He continued to press kisses to your stomach, faintly chuckling when you tried to close your legs and his restraints kept you from moving even an inch. "Your reward is that I will not deny you any ounce of pleasure tonight. I have longed for you too much to deny you much of anything."

He moved his head lower, and you let out an obscene moan of his name as he ran his tongue along the length of your slit before slowly circling your clit.

"Your punishment…" he breathed, pressing slow lingering kisses and laving his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. "No touching."

"Loki, wait--Oh f-fuck!" The room filled with your moans as he proceeded to alternate between long licks at your entrance and close his lips over your clit for what felt like a blissfully torturous eternity. He kept his word on not denying you anything as he brought you over the edge over and over again.

Your throat was raw from your constant moans and screams of his name and various expletives, already having lost count of how many times you came for him when he slid two devastatingly long fingers inside you and curled up, brushing against the spot that had you seeing stars. "One more, sweet girl," he mumbled around your clit, the vibrations from his voice already bringing you to the brink of orgasm yet again.

He moved your legs to rest your thighs on his shoulders, moaning against you when your entire body tensed as you came for him again, your pussy quivering against his mouth as he lapped at your release with languid strokes of his tongue. The restraints around your wrists and hips moved you down the column until your face was level with his, a weak whimper slipping from you when you saw how his lips glistened with your juices.

You barely registered the sound of the zipper as he kissed along your chest, biting and sucking more bruises into your skin. He lined himself up at your entrance, sliding into you in a single effortless thrust and eliciting a staggered sigh of relief from the god. "I've m-missed this," he whimpered between thrusts. "Missed you." Thrust. "My precious mortal." Thrust. "My wife." Thrust.

He threw his head back, letting out a decadent moan when you clenched around him after what he'd just called you. It had you desperately longing for your wedding day. Desperately aching to touch him. Just desperate for him.

"Please…" you whimpered, feebly fighting against the restraints again. When the rings holding you to the column finally disappeared, you could only let out a sharp exhale, your hand immediately clawing into your fiancée's back, the other weaving into his onyx curls.

Loki pressed you harder against the column, driving himself deeper inside you, his hands roaming and grasping wherever he could, as if he couldn't get enough of you. Couldn't touch you enough. He slanted his mouth over yours, moaning into the kiss when your tongues tangled together and you could taste your release on him. He adjusted his hold on you, letting out another muffled obscene sound into each other's mouths when the motion caused you to bounce on his cock.

Once he held you securely in his arms he started walking you further into your home, each step making you bounce on him and further weakening you in his embrace. He eased you down onto your bed, breaking the kiss and rendering you completely speechless watching his clothes melt away and baring his godly physique to you.

All you could do was breathe his name as he moved to hover over you again, pressing his lips to your cheek as he picked up the pace. He wrapped his hand around your knee, raising your leg to wrap it around his waist so he could drive into you harder. When you felt his fingers rubbing over your clit, the only sound that came out of you was a sharp moan, your body weakly arching against his hand before squeaking out, "I can't--"

"Just one more, dear heart. For me," he grunted, latching his lips onto that spot between your neck and shoulder as he kept on rubbing tight circles on the over-sensitized nub. Your legs shook and your walls convulsed around him, bring him to his own release as he marked your skin.

Once you both came down from your high, you felt his seiðr wash over you as he pulled you into his arms, putting the covers over you both with another wave of his hand. "I gotta be honest with you, sweetie, that felt a little pent up," you exhaled, a tiny part of you finding it unfair that he'd already resumed his regular breathing as if he didn't just fuck you senseless.

Damn Asgardian endurance.

"Because it was, precious mortal," he told you simply, tracing his finger along your cheek. "How long has it been since last you saw me?"

"Three months…give or take a week?" You braced yourself, already dreading what he'd say next.

"I have not seen you for over a year, my love," he confessed, pressing another kiss to your lips. "At least not like this. Every time I had seen you, you were yet to know me. There were worlds where you even outright feared me, scurrying away once you'd realized where you recognized me from. When I got to your shop earlier, I nearly believed I landed in another iteration of that world."

Suddenly your 'prank' from earlier left a sinking feeling in your stomach. "Loki, I'm sorry, I didn't know." You wrapped your arm around him, pressing yourself even closer to him if that were even possible, resting your head on his shoulder. "I just thought it'd be a bit of fun--"

"You have nothing to apologize for," he reassured you, brushing the tip of his nose along your own before softly kissing the spot. "But I have missed you terribly. Getting to hold you, to love you. To simply be here with you and enjoy a moment with my wife."

"Future wife," you pouted. "We're still in the planning phase, sadly. I take it the last time you saw me was sometime in our…future? I'm sorry this still gets confusing for me." He nodded his answer, pressing his lips to  your forehead. "Well then the timelines better fucking behave because I refuse to let you go anywhere. I get that you're a big powerful hero now, and knowing that you're out there making sure that everyone's safe and gets to come home to their families? I couldn't be prouder. But you should get to come home, too." You pressed a kiss to his chest, just over his heart. "Preferably for longer than a quickie with your fiancé."

His brows furrowed, shaking his head at your sentiment before pulling you to lay on top of him, chests pressed together with his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace. "I've come from a time where we were married and I called you my wife. Regardless of our pending ceremony, that is what you are to me now and what I will call you moving forward. No more of those semantics."

You nudged his chin with your nose, a giggle escaping you when he pulled you up to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Tell me about it. The future…"

"When I found you, you were a force to be reckoned with. Planning your friend Aria's wedding--"

"Ah, so she and Leif really are headed for the fairytale happy ever after?"

"No no, you were planning the wedding in Asgard." You eyes widened at the new information. "She was set to marry Thor."

"Wait she what?!"

A/N: I'm so excited to participate in this year's Secret Santa again! This has been so much fun to write for both times around, and hopefully the story did justice to the request 🥹💖

The request from @acidcasualties:

secret santa 2023 taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

[stffed]

promise me - yoichi isagi (prev. reo mikage) x male reader

warnings: comfort, angst (reo)

a/n: to that one commenter on reo’s post, alright bet (tried tagging you but it didn’t work lol)

you don’t understand why you got picked for the blue lock project at all: your skills were nowhere near as high level as reo’s or nagi’s. you only played football so you could hang out with reo more after he decided to spend all his time with nagi. somehow, someway, some higher being deemed you a great enough player to be part of the blue lock project.

at the first meeting, you saw reo. he was stood with nagi - all of his attention was focused on nagi. you wanted to walk over and be with him but you stopped yourself. this project meant you could show yourself - show reo what he was missing.

and so you became part of team z. it was a colourful team with an angry blonde who wanted to play sexy football, a ginger superhero with a mean left foot, and lemon. there was no sense of teamwork whatsoever for the first few matches in the round robin but that didn’t mean it wasn’t any less fun.

but there was also isagi.

the two of you clicked straight away. while bachira brought out the monster in isagi, you managed to round out his weaknesses. and he did the same for you. if he couldn’t score a goal, isagi knew that you would be able to do it. it was seamless teamwork which transferred off the pitch.

both of you trained together, ate together, your futons were placed next to each other. no one else in team z could deny that there was something going off between the two of you. the connection between you and isagi was magnetic. it was almost as if you were made for each other.

two strikers that brought out the best in each other.

isagi listened to you as you told him of your history with reo and nagi. he had bumped into them in the canteen before the team was told of the final match against team v. isgai saw how you tensed up seeing that they were the top two scorers in the stratum and he followed after you when you promptly walked out. he sat down with you in the training room and held your hand as you told him how reo ignored you for nagi despite your history with him.

“don’t think about them anymore,” said isagi. “you are your own person and i can say with confidence that you’re a better striker than both of them combined.”

you chuckled. “not hard for you to say, mr monster. you’ve not seen how reo controls nagi. the hold he has on him. i’m nothing to him.”

isagi held your hand tightly, rubbing comforting circles. he let you lean against him, let you use him to calm down.

“when we beat them,” he started, “promise me that you won’t think about them anymore - that you’ll only think of me.”

the confidence in his voice made you smile. you couldn’t explain why but it made you feel better. isagi always made you feel better. that was something reo could never do - he just left you to fester in your own emotions while he went off with nagi. isagi, however, let you talk and did what he could to make you feel better, as you did with him.

“guess we better not lose then.” you stood up, isagi following after you. he smiled widely. both of you headed back to the team room.

you held each other’s hand tightly, not separating until you needed to.

the day of the final match came. you and isagi stood side by side, opposite reo and nagi.

reo could only stare at you with wide eyes as you breezed past him, focusing only on isagi. he tried to talk to you, tried to get a word out at least, but he couldn’t. his heart clenched as did his fist.

after starting blue lock, reo realised how much he missed you - how much he needed you. he swore that when he next saw you, he would apologise and do whatever he could to win you back. but seeing your smile directed at isagi made him realise that there was nothing he could do.

he had already lost you.

[user4207292926282]

growth spurt pt.2

summary: teenage boy - 0 ┃boobs - 1

mike wheeler x fem!reader

part 1

it was only two weeks into school and mike was already hardcore avoiding you. he was thankful he only had two classes with you, but it was still too much. he spent most of the classes he had with you hiding in the bathroom. the rest of the party had already figured it out, easily taking notice of his behavior around you.

eddie was the first to notice, just happening to catch wheeler’s face when you walked in the first day with a short skirt swaying atop your thighs. mike would’ve fainted if eddie hadn’t subtly caught him and swept him away into an empty classroom nearby.

‘are you kidding me wheeler?” eddie whisper yelled holding mike by his shoulders against the wall, ‘you can’t even look at her in a skirt without your knees buckling?’

mike just stared wide eyed, a part of his brain still thinking about your silky thighs

‘jesus christ kid. you gotta get it together.’ eddie let go and started to leave the classroom. ‘you are in for one hell of a school year kiddo’ and with those wise words of wisdom bouncing around mike’s head, eddie left for his first class.

but that was ancient history. now everyone knew about mike’s major feelings towards you. now you were seated next to him at lunch, wearing that skirt again, your plush thighs pushing up against his. mike was shooting daggers at the rest of the group who had coincidentally taken up every chair except for the one closest to him, leaving the seat for the last one at the table. which was always you.

mike thought everything would be fine, he could ignore your thighs. yeah it might take all of his brainpower to do it, but he knew he could.

then you asked if he could help you with the latest math homework, his strongest subject. your worst.

he reluctantly obliged, happy to help you- just afraid of embarrassing himself. he sat and watched as you reached over to pull the work out of your bag, giving him the most perfect view of your tits sitting so pretty in your tiny shirt, threatening to spill out. he quickly looked away, not wanting to be creepy, trying to push out the dirty thoughts that began to fill his brain… oh the things he could do to those perfect fuckin tits. looking up- his eyes met dustin and eddie’s, both of them sitting across the table snickering at their little plan working just as they knew it would.

mike only looked back at you when you gently tapped his arm. his eyes dragging over to you looking up at him with those eyes. fuck.

‘are you sure you want to help me mikey? you don’t have to, i can go ask someone from my class if you don’t wanna’

‘nononono i wanna help i swear’ mike replied, his voice a little higher than usual.

‘i just zoned out for a second that’s all’ he smiled, looking down at her paper to begin to help.

he made it through two questions before he got a boner. all you’d done was put your hand on his thigh and compliment him on how well he did at explaining to you a simply question. his cheeks flared pink and his smile spread in a thin line across his face as he turned away. he then made it through questions three and four.

‘ohhh!! now i get it mikey! oh i’m so stupid.’ you pouted, erasing your previous equation and replacing it with the correct one mike just helped you come up with. you were the only one who called him mikey. he blushes every time you say it.

‘oh shut it y/n you’re literally perfect in every way’ he mumbled, going grab a pencil he dropped seconds prior. you look up at him with a grin so big you looked like a kid on christmas morning. you didn’t reply, deciding to simply kiss his cheek as a thank you.

he then promptly ran from his chair in the cafeteria to… literally anywhere you weren’t. he claimed to have forgotten to grab something from his locker, but everyone at that table knew that was the biggest fucking lie of the year. he avoided you for the rest of the day, thankful your two classes together were both before lunch. he skipped meeting everyone at eddie’s car after school for one last conversation before going their separate ways, instead just hopping on his bike and speeding home to… think about things. definitely not masturbate to the thought of you kissing his cheek, slowly trailing down to his neck. slowly sucking and biting his cheeks and mouth while you rode his rock hard di-

‘knock, knock. mike? you in there?’ your voice came from outside his door.

‘uh yeah! one second!’ mike yelled while trying to pull his pants fully up and cover his massive boner with his blankets and pillows.

‘come in?’

he watched as you slowly opened the door and stuck your head in, checking to make sure everything was okay before fully entering and softly shutting the door behind you. you stood by his door for a moment before slowly climbing in his bed to sit on the headboard next to him. he sat and watched, praying you didn’t notice his heavy breathing and blushy face. you obviously noticed, but decided not to question or comment.

‘uhhhhh. is there a reason your here?’ mike asked softly, trying to seem as nice as possible while also trying to get you to leave as fast as fucking possible. feeling himself get impossibly harder as he watched your face focus, sweat still shining from your bike ride over. and still wearing that skirt.

‘yeah. there is.’ you said. instead of turning to look at him you looked forward, not even looking in his direction, but you could feel his eyes on you.

‘you’ve been avoiding me so much lately. and i don’t know if it’s purposefully or not. but i just wanna know why mike. i didn’t get to see you all summer and now that i’m here you rarely speak to me. and what the actual fuck happened at lunch today? just running off like that? you could’ve just said you didn’t want to help me or-’

‘i like you.’

you froze. silence filled the room, you looked over at mike and now his face was away from yours.

‘i can’t think around you. that’s why i’ve been avoiding you. i just can’t handle being around you and not being able to stare and admire you without hoping you don’t catch me. i want to hold you in my arms. i can’t even tell you how many hard-ons i’ve got from you just saying my name. i can’t function around you anymore. you’re just too perfect.

mike looked at you, trying to gauge your reaction. you were beaming. your cheeks were red from blush and your eyes squinted in that cute way they do when you smile at something genuine.

and with that you simply kissed him.

his eyes closed with the kiss and you felt him melt into your touch. pulling away he looked at you. his big doe eyes looking straight into yours, foreheads touched together as you breathed in each others air. you gave him one last peck before moving to rest your head on his shoulder.

‘i like you too mikey.’

a/n I FINALLY DID IT HERE U GO

i tagged all the ppl who commented/reblogged part one so here u go!! :)))))))))))

hope u like it and lmk if u see any mistakes !

tags !!

@ymylu @heartsfordeftones @navarrocat @spencerstits @ykyouluvme @ravenclawprincess33333 @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man @nevillescomslut @shrimpfalls @w33pingcats @leah-the-hufflepuff @jasminelust @irinity

[bigification]

Coach's New Uniforms

"What's Tubbo doing in the dugout?" Adam mumbled to his teammate as he arrived to his baseball match. "Hey buddy, I think you got a bit lost. You wandered into our dugout." Adam said in a degrading voice. The man turned around to face him, heaving his massive gut as he turned. "Oh, you must be the captain, Adam. The names Weller, Coach Weller." He reached out for a hand shake with a wide smile. Stunned, Adam eyed Weller up and down while reciprocating the shake, taking note of how plump the man's fingers felt. "Ughh, what happened to Coach Stinger. And... Are you sure your his replacement." Adam said while staring blankly into Wellers stomach. "No idea, they just asked me to show up." Weller responded, feigning ignorance to the not so subtle jab at his appearance. "Regardless, the game starts soon, we should get ready. It looks like most of the team has arrived."

The team began their typical stretching routine, most of the team unbothered by the coach change as they changed coach's a lot. Although Adam felt something off about their new coach, besides his reservations about his weight. He kept an eye on Weller throughout the stretching routine, catching him staring intently at the team as they stretched before looking away when Adam noticed.

The rest of the match went by smoothly. Coach Weller actually had good advice and much to Adams dismay, Weller made for a pretty good coach. The team they were facing was significantly worse than them, so the game wasn't too stressful, just one to boost their stats.

The team huddled around Coach Weller after the match. Hoping to get a bit more information on their new coach. "Good game boys! It was an easy win, but you guys still played great. By the way, I ordered new uniforms for you guys, they should be delivered soon. I expect you to wear them to the next practice." Coach Weller said before promptly leaving. The rest of the team made their way home, slightly confused by Weller acting strange.

Later that night, Adam took to his computer to look into Weller. Searching 'coach weller' into Google popped up a ton of news articles about him. 'Baseball prospect snuffed last minute' 'Baseball pro let's himself go after thought rejection' 'From fit to fat, former baseball pro hospitalized for conditions related to obesity'. Article after article telling a tragic story, almost making him feel bad. "I was wondering how anyone could even get that fat, but I guess that explains it." It also explained why he actually knew his shit, and why he kept staring at his teammates. "He's just jealous of what could have been his life, that explains the staring." Adam thought to himself.

The next morning rolled around, Adam jumped out of bed, late for practice. He ran to his closet and grabbed the new uniform he got in the mail the night before. He ran out of his room, only in his black boxers. He threw on the baseball shirt, noting that it did not fit him at all. Probably some one size fits all kinda thing, but he didn't have time to worry about it. He grabbed his pants and tried to pull them up his legs, but they got snagged on something. He pulled them up again, but they just wouldn't go past his ass. "What the hell! Did they shrink in the wash?" He said, annoyed. He looked down to see what was wrong. "What the fuck!" He yelled out. He couldn't even see his pants because his gut blocked his view of them. He grabbed at the fat that was piling onto his stomach, it was real. Adam freaked out as his belly grew and grew. He started to look pregnant, then it started to look like a beach ball was stuck in his stomach. It all happened so fast. He stumbled back, knocking into the gym equipment he had in his living room. The new weight distribution of his massive gut almost made him fall over, but he managed to stay in his feet. He grabbed onto his bench press, hoping to regain some balance. "My hands, they're massive!?" He yelled as he saw his giant fat filled hands. His eyes drifted up to his biceps. He was visibly shocked as he looked at his hulking biceps. Even the fat in his arms just made them look stronger. It made him feel like maybe this wasn't the end of the world.

Once Adam had gotten over the shock of the situation, he got up and turned towards his mirror. At first it shocked him, his gut was so imposing. It was probably the first thing you would notice about him, and it made him feel so strong. He didn't care for the man boobs he now had, but it was a good trade off for his massive arms. He analysed his round face and his scruffy beard, he felt so intimidating. He lifted up his gut and looked at his thick thighs and plump ass. He was surprised by how little his body sagged under its own weight all things considered, but he sure as hell did not mind. He could even see the large outline of his dick under his boxers. "Heh, nice!" He chuckled

"Right, practice." He remembered that he was almost late for practice. He tried putting on his pants which... Suddenly fit. At first he was confused as they didn't fit just a moment earlier, but then he remembered that he had always been a size 40 waist and his baseball pants had always fit him. He buttoned up his shirt as it now perfectly wrapped around his gut. He looked at himself in the mirror one last time and smiled.

Adam hopped in his tiny car and rolled his seat back before rushing to practice. "What's a good captain if he can't even show up on time." He scolds himself.

He serves into the parking lot and runs out to the dugout, shocked by how out of breath he is from the short jog. "Lookin good captain!" His boys yelled out to him. He passed his coach, just as big as ever, and then met up with his team. For a moment he was shocked. They all must have been at least 300 pounds. Each of them with guts spilling out of their uniforms and sporting big bushy beards. But then the memories of playing with them for the season flooded into his mind. They had always been the fattest in the league. They huddled up, all with their guts squished between them. "Let's show coach Weller that a big team like us can play with the skinny guys." Adam patted his teammates on the back.

Coach Weller crossed his arms and smiled while he watched the team of obese men struggle to make it to first base without needing to take a rest.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for slowly ghosting a fwb instead of confronting him when I found out he's been stalking people again?

He (twenties, M) and I (twenties, X) knew each other from college. He's genuinely a fun guy. Also, a cis person being into you as a nonbinary person (as your gender, not despite it) in a non-fetishy way is frankly too powerful. So yeah, we started talking more some time after graduation, and it turned into a digital-only friends-with-benefits situation.

I was wary of him in college, but willing to give him a second chance. It was an open secret among our friend group that he'd stalked a couple of people he was into in college -- resulting in court ordered therapy and a restraining order and everything. I was still mentally/emotionally recovering from an abusive relationship years prior that the ex stalked me after for a few years. So you can see why it was a big deal that I gave this distant friend another chance, willing to get as close to him as I did. I guess I thought that like, the therapy had worked?

Well, fast forward to us being close after college. He doesn't know that I know about his previous two times getting nearly expelled for stalking people. I have not told him anything about my years-ago abusive relationship, but it's possible he has some awareness of it due to mutual friends. I kept firm with a boundary that he will have no more specific geographic information about me than my city, and he's certainly never learning my address. He has no way to know about my more "personal" social media like Tumblr. I am protecting myself.

But a few months into us being fwb and having fun and me repeatedly asserting my boundaries regarding irl interaction. He complains to me that someone is claiming that he's stalking them. I casually ask about the situation, assert that yeah what he's doing is shitty, he should stop, and it does sound like stalking (even though he insists it isn't). We never talk about it again.

He started showing up in my trauma nightmares, and suddenly the second chance I gave him seems like a terrible idea. So, over the next few months, I make a planned retreat. I respond less frequently, less promptly, and with less emotion. I planned out my strategy by the week to look like a natural loss of interest, or a natural "got busy with other stuff."

My logic is that he clearly has not learned to stop stalking people. I am not willing to continue exposing myself to that personal risk. But I am also not willing to say "I refuse to remain friends with an unrepentant stalker." I'm afraid that if I do that, he will get the wrong lesson: that he needs to never admit to any other friend what he's done, or else he'll lose them. The right lesson obviously would be: don't follow people to their houses after they've cut contact and don't send them letters asking whether they're living alone again yet, what the fuck. I am afraid that if I tell him why I'm ghosting, he will simply never talk about this pattern ever again, thus removing the ability of future friends like me to make informed decisions about who they're spending their time with.

We're now one year into when I fully ended contact. I did not block him. I still get two texts a week from him -- sometimes "are you okay" sometimes life updates, usually just "hey". He has made no indications that he has visited the city where I live, thank god. I have not explained to any of our mutual friends what I did. I have not talked to anyone, not my therapist not my spouse, about what I did. I am not going to speak to him again, but I am not going to block him, because I need my cutting contact to look natural.

So yeah. AITA for not making a bigger deal of his continued stalking of other people? In my mind I'm protecting myself, and reducing the likelihood he'll start hiding his nature from future friends, so this way they can be informed and protect themselves as needed. But AITA for lowkey ghosting him instead of having a serious conversation about his behavior? I know he sucks. I just don't know if I also suck.

What are these acronyms?

[triscribe]

The Magic Trousers

(So I'm trying to come up with something to submit for a magazine's flash fiction competition, and while I don't think this is going to be it, I don't want to just lose it in my folders either. Hope you guys enjoy)

The third time her little brother turned up with blood on his face, Alene decided she needed to do something about it.

Not that Elber ever came out and said, but she knew good and well who bloodied his nose, who split his lip. Less than twenty kids lived in their village, but even out of a hundred, two hundred, a thousand, she’d have no trouble knowing who did it.

“I'm fine,” Elber tried to protest, when she sat him down and cleaned him up. “You don’t have to-”

“I do have to,” huffed Alene. “Just you and me now, and old Nana, but she’s too blind to do this anyhow. So hush up and sit still.”

She tended to her brother, warm water and a soft cloth and a dab of salve to speed along his healing. Then Alene sat him down next to her, and made the boy hold a ball of rough yarn as she pulled from it. Back and forth, across their mother’s old loom. Back and forth, click-clack, back and forth.

And she told Elber, “You know there used to be witches in our family?” Her brother’s eyes went wide. “Good witches, who cast their spells on tyrants and bullies, taught them harsh lessons so they’d leave the smallfolk who lived under them alone. Once, there was a witch who went to a king’s castle, pulling an empty cart like it was full and heavy. And she told everyone along the way, whether they asked or not, that she’d brought a gift: magic cloth made on a magic loom, enchanted so only wise and worldly people could see it.”

“...what’s ‘worldly’ mean?”

“Means you know what’s what,” Alene explained. “And nobody she told wanted to admit they didn’t, so instead they all went ‘oh, of course, what lovely cloth’. All the way through the castle, and to the king, who didn’t want anyone thinking he was stupid either, so he agreed to pay the witch to turn the magic cloth into robes for him to wear.”

Elber’s eyes got even wider. “But- there wasn’t any cloth?”

“Not a single thread. Speaking of, I’m almost done with this, go get me Momma’s old sewing kit.”

She finished telling her brother the story while putting her lengths of fabric together, skipping more stitches than not. About how the witch put on a great show, going through the motions and chanting in a strange tongue, until she announced the robes were ready, lighter than air and softer than a cloud. The king immediately put on his new outfit to show off, going up and down his whole castle, then out of it entirely to parade through the nearest village. But only the castle folk knew what the witch said about her magic cloth - the villagers didn’t. They saw the king prancing about in his small clothes, and one by one everybody started laughing, more and more until you could hear sound for miles around. The king tried to wave it off, tried to insist not a one of them was wise enough to see his wonderful magic robes.

But he still went back to his castle awfully embarrassed.

By the end of her story, Alene held up a pair of simple, homespun trousers, nothing odd to be seen. That night, after the whole village went to sleep, she stole out of her family’s home and over to another house, switching the trousers with another pair, not a soul aware of what she’d done.

Well. None besides Elber. And the next morning, when the blacksmith’s son promised to punch him in the face again, Alene’s little brother did exactly as she’d told him: he pointed at the bigger boy and yelled that the Old Magic punished bullies for their crimes, along with a few made-up words for good measure.

All the other kids jeered. And the blacksmith’s son did what he always did: he picked up one foot to brace against the nearest wall, posing like a hero out of a storybook.

And his trousers promptly came apart at the seams.

Alene, walking by with her market basket as laughter erupted, hid a smirk all the way home.

[mc-lukanette]

The world was so loud. It was still loud, and Luka had gotten tired of explaining to people when they asked what he meant just to look at him like he was crazy afterward.

The simple explanation was that Luka experienced the world through music. He saw potential melodies in his environment and people always gave off their own particular tune. The latter was what made his life difficult, given that he didn't have any control over whether or not he heard them. It was just something he had to adjust to.

But if there was one thing Luka hated, it was a fake person: someone who behaved one way but was another inside. He remembered when he started to dye his hair and paint his nails, back when people would say that they liked it but the song he would hear was filled with displeasure over his choice of appearance.

As such, he had few friends in life. There just weren't many people he could trust to be fully honest with him without him pointing out that they weren't.

Not having friends also meant that he had no reason not to attend events with his rock star mother, Anarka Couffaine, though he would've happily come to show his support and approval of her anyway despite the atmosphere. Events and parties like the one he'd shown up for that very day were often filled with detestable people only out for money and had zero interest in the actual well-being of any clients.

He did his best to filter them out.

"Luka," Anarka whispered, leaning down and wrapping an arm around him. With her other arm, she pointed to a man across the room dressed in white and pink, noting, "that's Bob Roth. Remember him?"

One listen of the man made Luka roll his eyes, though smiling at the memory. "He offered you a contract when I was little and you threw him overboard."

"Aye." She stood up, her toothy smirk putting even sharks to shame as she called out, "Roth! Gone swimmin' lately?"

Bob turned around to look, Luka grinning as well at the way his face paled upon seeing her. One could practically see the memories flooding his mind, his face turning red with a mixture of shame and anger as he stormed off.

Anarka sighed as if having just come out of meditative therapy, giving Luka a nudge. "You haven't lived until you've thrown a scallywag overboard."

She didn't give much advice even as a mom, but he considered that one was a keeper. He would've liked to have done it himself had he not been so small at the time.

"Nanarky!" another equally non-subtle voice called from afar. "Chased away Bob again?"

Luka turned along with his mother to see Jagged Stone approaching, and had to suppress a big smile. He'd always been a big fan of Jagged's music - pure and untouched by anyone but Jagged himself - and since Jagged and Anarka were friendly rivals, they often met up at events.

"Hey," Anarka commented as Jagged walked up to them, "it's the first mate of rock and roll!"

"First mate?!" Jagged recoiled, a hand to his chest in dramatic fashion. "I'm the captain of this ship!"

"Ha! I can play circles around ya." She leaned towards him, flicking at the Eiffel Tower glasses near the top of his head. "Nice glasses, by the way."

Luka chuckled. They made for a fun duet together as well.

At the mention of the new glasses, Jagged's demeanor changed entirely. He beamed, bringing them down to his eyes properly. "Right? Got a young up-and-coming designer to make 'em for me."

"Young unlike you, ya sea dog," Anarka quipped.

Jagged turned his head away while pretending not to have heard her, though the pout on his face was obvious. Snapping his fingers, he called out, "Hey, frockstar! C'mere and meet the background musician!"

"Why I oughta—"

Luka heard the melody before the footsteps, though it was still a stark contrast to the ones belonging to both Jagged and Anarka. A teenage girl - certainly no older than him - came to Jagged's side, peeking up at him with a smile before being promptly squished against his side.

"Hello," she said, somewhat strained until Jagged let her go and gave her an affirming pat on the shoulder. She shyly bowed her head to Anarka. "I'm—

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng!" Jagged interrupted, looking all too eager to talk about her. Luka raised a brow, impressed by the amount of pride bursting out of each note on his song. "She's gonna design my new album, Rock Giant!"

"W-wha—?!" Marinette stared up at Jagged with a look that implied she very much had not heard about that yet.

"Nice to meet ya, lass," Anarka greeted. "I'm Anarka Couffaine."

"Oh!" Marinette gaped at her. "I know exactly who you are! I'm a big fan!"

"That right?" she asked, and Luka could see the glint in her eyes that she was about to start up their rivalry again. Thankfully, introducing him took priority, so she opted instead to say, "Well, then y'should know that this is my son, Luka."

Their eyes locked for the first time. Luka didn't necessarily need eye contact to get a feel for a person, but it helped. He was intrigued: her song was an entire mix of emotions both positive and negative, none of which she seemed to be hiding. There was an extra spark of curiosity and awe in her at actually taking him in - likely because he was the son of someone she admired - though he supposed the normal thing to do would be to politely—

"Wow, you're so handsome!"

Luka felt his cheeks heat up, completely thrown off by the blunt comment. Anarka and Jagged, though equally stunned for a moment, suddenly looked incredibly invested in this. They glanced back and forth between the two, waiting to see what might happen next.

As he was formulating a proper response, Marinette's words caught up with her. Her face turned even redder than his and her tune was all over the place. She turned away and tried to make a break for the buffet table to hide underneath the tablecloth, only for Jagged to hurry after her and pull her back.

"Nanarky," he said with a mischievous tone, tilting his head down and lowering his glasses to look at her. "What do you say to a little music battle, just the two of us?"

Anarka reflected his look back at him. "In the middle of this namby-pamby party? ...You're on."

Then the two were off, true party crashers even when they're already invited, and simultaneously leaving him alone with Marinette.

"I-I'm so sorry," she whined, rubbing at her face in embarrassment. "It's just—it seems like I always say the first thing that's on my mind, and the first thing I noticed was that you have nice eyes?"

His blush wasn't going away, that was for sure.

"Uhm!" She flailed. "I mean, not that you have nice eyes—well you do, but I don't mean nice as in nice even if they are nice." She huffed at herself, pounding her fist against her palm and clearly seeking a specific word. "...Kind! You have kind eyes!"

"Thanks," Luka managed after taking a deep breath, Marinette having just been upgraded from intriguing to absolutely adorable in his mind. He ran a hand through his hair, fluffing it slightly. "You can be honest with me, Marinette. I won't think it's strange. It's better, actually."

"Better?" She stared like she thought he was the strange one. "...A-ah! I know, here!"

She opened the tote bag at her side and reached in, digging around until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out a CD and offered it to him, Jagged's signature prominent on the front.

"This is..." Luka gaped, taking it from her hands.

"One of Jagged's albums, signed by Jagged himself," Marinette stated proudly. "He said he'd personally sign any album I wanted, and of course I picked this. It's—"

"—the best one," he chimed in along with her, perking up at the sound of their voices speaking in unison.

She grinned, delighted. "Yes! You get it! I've asked every Jagged fan I know and none of them picked it!"

Luka, always one to return a gift, reached into his own bag and pulled out one of his mother's albums, also signed by her. He always kept at least one thing she'd signed in his bag as an extra - if private - show of support. "Here. It's—"

"—the best one!"

——

Naturally, they exchanged numbers soon after that, just before going on to watch the "rock battle" together. Luka had people he knew like his mother and Jagged Stone who spoke their minds without fear, but Marinette was a unique case. He couldn't quite put it into words - that's what he had his guitar for - but an attempt would incline him to say that it was a deceptively simple song upon first listen yet was so powerful as just to pour out of her when she opened her mouth. He could even see it in the way she moved, fidgeting and bouncing with energy while they'd listened to the energetic music.

She was also the first one to blurt out that she thought he was handsome and had kind eyes at their first meeting, so an unforgettable first impression if there were ever any. He was a little discouraged by the idea of texting her, where it wasn't as likely for her to just say whatever she was thinking. Still, he was fine waiting for her to warm up to him if need be.

Oh! You play guitar?

Guitar and violin, yeah.

I'd love to hear you play sometime! I'm free for you! I MEAN FREE TODAY!!

Luka let out a laugh. He didn't have to worry after all.

[runningfrom2am]

achilles heel - I: Ben's Sister

summary:

Grace is the very opposite of her brother in every way. when she finally moves onto campus at UNC Chapel Hill, she feels like she gets to be her own person, make her own friends, and hopefully start a promising career in the museum industry, and maybe, one day, get married to her high school sweetheart and live the American dream for herself. Rafe Cameron however, upon their very first meeting, throws a wrench in her very perfect plan.

tags/warnings:

rafe cameron x fem!oc, rafe is giving very much homewrecker, fanon!rafe (kinda), college!au, friends to lovers, slow-burn (maybe?), minimal oc description, drug and alcohol use, mostly unedited, (these tags are not exhaustive, lmk if i should add anything!)

wc: 2.1k

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January 4th, 2019

B: i'll be at the caf in 10 if you want to grab breakfast before class

Her phone buzzes twice in quick succession as the screen lights up on the table in front of her. She leans over to read it, putting down her coffee mug and rolling her eyes slightly to herself. Grace had already eaten the same thing she always does, being frozen strawberries and whipped cream for breakfast, and is finishing up her first of several cups of coffee for the day when she receives this text from her brother.

g: okay, back table in the corner

She sends her quick reply and goes back to what she was doing, pretending to read her textbook and hoping to absorb at least the key points before her eight am class. So far, this method has worked well for her. Only one semester down so far, but with a 3.91 GPA, Grace is feeling pretty good about her academic career.

Her brother, Ben, on the other hand, got into the same school on a scholarship for soccer, and Grace is pretty positive he's only doing the same degree as her so she can tutor him while he lives in a frat house. Which he very promptly moved into after orientation, leaving Grace on campus alone, and she didn't mind it one bit. Having some space from her brother and her parents for the first time has been amazing.

Grace looks up as her disheveled-looking brother slides into the seat across from her at the table, practically throwing his plate down. She removes her headphones to hear what he's saying. "Huh?" She asks, prompting him to repeat himself.

"I said..." He draws it out, clearly frustrated his sister didn't listen. "You're already reading that? It's only the second class."

"Oh, well yeah, they're assigned readings for a reason." Grace replies, putting in her bookmark and closing the book, shoving it in the bag at her feet before looking back at her twin brother. He looks like he just rolled out of bed, which, of course, he did.

"Right. Give me the summary then, yeah?" He asks through a mouthful of cinnamon and sugar toast.

Grace sighs a little. "So, basically, there's this guy, totally a dick." She begins to explain and Ben nods, but he's already looking down at his phone. "So he shoots this elephant, right, and then someone else shoots him, and then that's how the third world war started."

"Wait, what? Really?" Ben asks, his attention suddenly drawn back to her.

"No. There was no World War III, dumbass." She replied flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Do you even know what this course is about?"

"Not yet but that's why I'm here isn't it?" Ben chuckles, taking another bite of his toast and instantly chasing it down with his orange juice.

Grace cringes a little as she watches that. "Not exactly..." She replies, looking down at her watch. "We have fifteen minutes. We should probably go, we have to get all the way across campus."

Ben nods and shoves the rest of his one piece of toast in his mouth and picks up the other to carry with them while they grab their bags and clean up the table.

No one really knows what it is about the first week of the semester, but Grace, as well as every other girl she's seen so far, has fallen victim to the idea that you need to look put together and organized knowing damn well that by two weeks from now, she'll be showing up in pyjamas. But today, for the time being, she's actually wearing jeans and makeup to class.

They walk across the beautiful campus that overlooks the city from a hill. It's January, but the sun is rising and there's hardly any snow left on the ground, not that there ever was much to begin with at UNC. Grace grips her coffee cup with both hands to try and warm them- it was probably an oversight to leave her gloves back in her dorm.

They make it inside and find their classroom, walking in and looking around, scanning to see open seats. Grace's eye lands on a table with two seats that no one is sitting at, and makes a beeline for it, placing her bag down before realizing her brother isn't at her side anymore.

"Hey, man, how's it going?" She hears as she looks back over her shoulder, seeing her brother grabbing the hand of a boy sitting in the back row. She sighs and sits down as he sits in the back with someone she's assuming he knows from his frat or soccer or something,

"I'm pretty good. Don't know why I took an eight am but here I am I guess." Ben's friend, Rafe, says as Ben takes a seat next to him.

"Honestly, same." Ben laughs slightly, pulling his laptop out of his bag and placing it on the desk.

"Hey, uh..." Rafe starts, leaning closer to his friend and lowering his voice. "Who's that girl you came in with?"

"Why?" Ben asks, taking on a defensive tone as he digs around in his bag, looking for his textbook.

Rafe instantly shakes his head, leaning back in his seat. "Just wondering." He says quickly, looking forward at the long-haired girl sitting a few rows in front of them. "I didn't know you had a girl- I just thought you would have told the team."

"What? I don't." Ben looks up at him to see his friend staring at his sister. "That's just Grace. My sister." He admits, leaning back in his chair as well.

Oh, his sister. Rafe thinks to himself, nodding slightly in response to his friend, that was now watching him, watching his sister. Time to look away. "You have a sister?"

"Uh, yeah, dude."

"You never talk about her," Rafe says, glancing back at her.

"Not much to say I guess." Ben shrugs in response. "Uh, we're twins, I don't know she likes to read apparently. She's a history major, she lives here on campus. I don't know what really there is to add."

"Oh, really? I was thinking of doing history."

Ben laughs. "Dude, as if Ward would ever let you even think about taking anything other than business. Pretty much the only thing you can do with history is write or teach, that's boring as hell."

Rafe sighs, he knows Ben is probably right. "I mean, like, I wouldn't hate that. At least it would be my choice."

"Yeah, I mean, whatever you want man. Why not, right? Being a prof makes bangin money too. People respect you and shit-" Ben rambles on but Rafe isn't really listening. His eyes are trained again on the girl sitting closer to the front of the room, as her hair cascades over her shoulders when she leans forward more, writing something down in a notebook.

"Right?" His thoughts are interrupted.

"Oh, yeah, totally." Rafe nods, completely unaware of what his friend was talking about by now.

"Okay, so we've got some new faces in here today." A man who Rafe assumes to be the prof says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention as the room quiets down. "You, in the back there. You missed introductions on Monday, so basically we all shared our names, our majors, and what year we're in if you'd like to share as well."

He's looking dead on at Rafe in the back, and everyone's heads turn to look at him. "I, yeah, sure. I'm Rafe, uh, this is my first year, so I haven't made any big decisions yet, but I'm thinking about majoring in history." He says, making eye contact with Grace and giving her a slight smile.

"Right, yes, Rafe Cameron. You're on the soccer team with Ben here. Your dad is Ward, right?" The prof asks and Rafe nods.

"Yes sir."

"I've met your father, he's a really nice man, hey?" He grins and Rafe nods again slightly in response, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Anyway, let's get started, shall we? Did everyone get the readings done?"

——

Grace gets up at the end of class, placing everything in her bag and her headphones back in, assuming that her brother would take off with his friend.

"Shouldn't we wait for Grace?" Rafe asks Ben as his friend turns to the door.

"Nah, I'll talk to her later." He shrugs in response. "Come on- we've got practice this afternoon and I want to have a nap first."

"Hold on one sec," Rafe replies, holding his hand up at his friend signaling for him to wait, and watching as Grace turns around evidently surprised to see them still standing there looking at her- waiting.

"Oh, hi." She says, removing one of her headphones.

"What did you think of the first real lecture? Did you write down every word?" Ben asks her and she laughs a little.

"No, but I'm glad we're getting into something interesting at least." She replies, avoiding eye contact with his friend, who's watching her intently.

"Hey, uh, I'm Rafe, by the way." He says to her before Ben can get a word in.

Grace looks briefly at her brother, who is staring at Rafe with an indecipherable look on his face. "I'm Grace." She says, looking back at her brother's friend and smiling politely. "You said you want to take history? That's my plan too." She adds, making an effort to move the conversation along so they don't just all stand there staring at each other.

"Yeah, I mean, maybe. My dad wants me to take business because he owns a company and I'll have to take it over eventually and all that crap." Rafe shrugs as the three of them head for the door.

Grace nods at that, shoving her hands in her pockets as they walk out the door and down the hall. "My boyfriend was supposed to take business too, or that was originally his plan in high school. He decided to go into chemical and electrical engineering instead and he's loving it, but I guess it's a bit different than your situation but I still think it's important to do what you want, not what other people want you to do." She shrugs, as Rafe looks at her brother, giving him a 'what the fuck, man?' expression.

Ben raises an eyebrow at him, the silent exchange finished with his confusion, and Rafe quickly continues his conversation with the girl who wasn't watching them, eyes straight ahead as she walked. "Yeah, I guess you're right. My plan right now is to sell it as soon as my name's on it, so my degree won't really matter."

"Yeah, you probably don't need a degree in business for that." She agrees, laughing slightly as she shakes her head.

As the three approach the end of the hall, Rafe takes a few quick steps forward to grab the door, and Ben smiles at him, laughing slightly and patting him on the shoulder as he walks through. "Thanks, bro." He steps outside, leaving Rafe to stare at the girl who took a turn down the hall instead of following them out. 

"Not going back to dorms?" He asks her, making her turn as she continues to walk backward staying with the flow of other students.

"I have a class in C building in ten minutes- this way is much faster. It was nice meeting you!" Grace smiles with a slight wave, popping her headphone back in as she turns around and continues down the hall. Rafe smiles back and raises his hand in a quick wave, sighing as he's stuck holding the door for a few more people before he can follow Ben.

"Dude, you didn't think to tell me she has a boyfriend?" Rafe asks, jogging slightly to catch up with his friend.

"Sorry, didn't think you'd be into my sister. Didn't think it mattered- that's not like, the most important thing about her, you know." Ben scoffs, shaking his head.

"Well, of course not. Would've been nice to know, though." Rafe grumbles, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

"You're not hooking up with my sister. Listen, even if she wasn't dating that loser I wouldn't let you. That's like, fucked up." Ben says sternly. "What would you say if I said I was into Sarah, huh?"

"Dude- gross. She's like, seventeen." Rafe shakes his head, scrunching up his nose at the thought.

"Exactly." Ben agrees. 

"Okay, well, that's different."

"You're digging yourself deeper and deeper man- you've just got to let it go." Ben insists, turning to walk towards his car on the opposite side of the parking lot from where Rafe parked his bike. "I'll see you at home!" He shouts back.

"See ya'," Rafe replies, walking in the opposite direction. He pulls the other side of his backpack over his shoulder, holding tightly onto the straps as he makes his way back to where he parked his bike- completely unaware that he was being watched through an upstairs window in C building by his friend's sister.

ahhh finally part one!! i’ve been working on this one for a hot minute so lmk all your thoughts and everything- i don’t have the whole thing planned out so also if anyone has any requests on where this should go, pls lmk!!

taglist: @madelynie @slut4drudy (message me or reply to this to be added!)

[lost-girl-2021]

(Even More) Metkayina Thingss

Okay, I love the idea of this, I feel like the consequences of the human body are not touched upon nearly enough it fics. Thanks @onlyreadz for the idea!

(CW: kinda graphic descriptions of bad sunburn/burns ig)

Okay, picture Spider getting hella sunburnt, not really realizing, and then waking up the next day and cracking his back, only for his skin to crack and peel as he stretched. Everyone promptly starts freaking out, including Spider, who has never actually gotten such a bad sunburn before (he was raised in the forest, never spent all day in the sun, and I think it'd be kinda like Florida vs Michigan sunshine. The further south you are, the easier you'll get tan, cause of science and shit).

I think the panicking would end one of a few ways. First, Tonowari hunts down Jake, who's somehow the resident expert on humans, and tells him how Spider's skin is peeling off. Cue Jake also panicking, because based on the description he thinks Spider's somehow gotten third degree burns or some parasite that's making his skin falls off. When he gets to the medical tent and sees a very red teenager on the brink of tears, he's very confused. (Jake: Did you forget to put on sunscreen? Spider: that gunk the lab guys always made me wear? I stopped using that a while ago Jake: well, this is what happens when you don't listen to Max and Norm. Suffer.)

Another option is them flat-out keeping Spider inside until they can figure out what's going on. Except, after a few days the skin returns to normal-ish, albeit a little pink. When it happens again, they're convinced he's got some sort of allergy, so they start doing the Na'vi version of an allergy panel trying to figure out what's wrong. Eventually, they reach out to the humans, hoping to get one of those bioscanner things to test what's clearly toxic to their human son, and one of the lab guys explains it's sunburn.

[jinnify]

stray kids as your halloween costume partner 🎃🕯️

disclaimer: the pictures are just meant as a reference ^^ feel free to alter it to your liking~

bang chan: the corpse bride and victor

sauur :( 

you were balls-deep in some Loving Chris Juice when you suggested this

dude had NO IDEA how in love with him u were

so you kinda just

“haha we should dress as the corpse bride…jk…but we should”

Chan didn’t really say anything he just kinda shrugged his shoulders and agreed

you guys ended up going to a party chan had been invited to earlier in the month 

which honestly kinda annoyed you since you had wanted to go trick-or-treating but didn’t say anything

The entire night you kinda just hovered around chan, inwardly crying whenever a person came to flirt with him

“you good?”

“yeah, just kinda bored since I don’t know anyone here”

“wanna go trick-or-treating? instead”

lee minho: gomez and morticia addams

Minho took it seriously when you told him the addams family was your favourite movie

he promptly suggested you guys dress as gomez and morticia

even going as far as dyeing his hair black that night

“babe, c’mon. you know i’d look amazing in a suit,” he winked

there was really no arguing with minho once he had made up his mind about something

plus, he really did look good in a suit

cue you staring at his ass all night

you had both opted for giving out candy the entire night, dramatically opening the door together whenever you got a knock

halloween night was chill for the pair of you

you gave out candy

you made out a bunch

and you were knocked out in bed by 10 pm

seo changbin: rapunzel and flynn rider

LISTEN

you have had a vision since even BEFORE you started dating changbin

Changbin was the absolute embodiment of flynn

The Confidence? Check

The Charms? Check

The Face? Check

The Body? Check

The Absolute Need to be flirting with you? Check

not to mention how much of a softie he truly was

Changbin was absolutely perfect as flynn, you will not be taking any objections

he was absolutely down to wearing matching costumes with you

maybe even more excited than you to be dressed as flynn but anyway

you spent your night with your friends, having fun trick-or-treating and trading candies together

“you already know i hate reeses cups why are you trying to trade them with me!!”

one thing about changbin

he was going to whine about nothing

“Fine! Here! take me snickers!”

hwang hyunjin: howl and sophie

I mean hello

Who are we Fooling here

Hyunjin Is Literally Howl

it was actually hyunjin that came up with the idea to dress as howl and sophie

He had started to grow out his hair the year before when you watched the movie to be able to dress as him

“YOU LOOK SO CUTE DRESSED A SOPHIE”

He wouldn’t stop hugging you

or shaking you by the shoulders

You were a little scared he was going to end up hurting you by accident with how much he was shaking you

“Hyunjin please let go of me”

“BUT YOU LOOK SO CUTE WITH YOUR GREY HAIR”

pls help idk why hyunjin’s is so hard to write for im sorry my hyune likers i tried

han jisung: raven and beast boy

ok look

Jisung is a certified Alt Girl Lover™️

and who is more of an alt girl than the og raven

he couldn’t wait to bring the idea up to you

boy was literally shaking while explaining his idea to you

he was so excited lmao

As his best friend, you had no choice but to follow along

“Only if you go as beast boy”

“bro are you kidding? I’ve had the costume for like a week already?”

“did you buy me mine?”

“uh, no. get your own shit”

You did in fact make him buy you your costume on halloween night

He got it off craigslist and only washed it once :/

You ended up going to a club and getting drunk together

“Haha wouldn’t it be crazy if we kissed?”

“jisung , it this your way of asking to kiss me?”

“maybe”

lee felix: beauty and the beast

“I think felix would look prettier as belle”

seo changbin how could you

of course felix suggested you to be belle but your pride had already been hurt by then

so you just let him go as belle

He really did look prettier 😔

It was actually really fun going out in these costumes

A lot of little girls came up to take a picture with him

It was the cutest thing

He did end up asking you to change into your original belle costume you guys ended up going to later on in the night

“Y’know changbin was wrong, right?”

“Nah, you really are so pretty lix.”

suddenly you guys were all sappy for each other

How could u not when felix was dressed like a literal prince

You left the party early to go home and cuddle <3

kim seungmin: ghostface and michael myers

The only one taking this halloween shit SERIOUSLY

at this point in your guys’ friendship, you knew better than to deny seungmin the pleasure of causing chaos

ofc being seungmin’s best friend meant going along with his shenanigans

No Questions Asked

so when he got to your apartment with a ghostface mask and black robe in hand you already knew what was up

“what are you going to be then?” 

“your mom”

“Do Not speak on my mother you bitch”

anyway he didn’t end up telling you lmao

he waited until halloween to show you instead

“aren’t you a little too short to be michael myers?”

“I’m going to kill you with a rock”

seungmin spent the entire night terrorizing people like the menace he is

“just so you know, if you end up getting jumped I'm not helping your ass”

yang jeongin: papa smurf

“Is this a bad idea?”

“nah”

It Was A Bad Idea

the blue facepaint stained your face

for Three Days

you had to walk around campus with a blue face

because jeongin wanted to dress up as smurfs

You didn’t really think much about it the day of halloween while jeongin was painting your face

But afterward, you tried beating jeongin’s ass

You got made fun of by the rest of your friend group for being dumbasses but beside that you were pretty okay

All you can remember from halloween night is daring jeongin to climb onto the roof of the house you were at and cannonball into their pool

He missed by a few inches and broke his fibula because of how drunk he was

No regrets

[worriedvision]

Lovers to strangers - Gepard

Gender neutral reader, reader finds out they are biologically a sibling of Sampo and it drives a wedge between them and Gepard. Angst 

--

When you found out you had a brother, you were really looking forward to meeting him. You grew up believing you were an only child, and you admittedly yearned for that sibling rivalry and the bond in general. You gushed about meeting Sampo without telling Gepard, which in hindsight was a poor decision considering who he was, and Gepard was fully on board with you meeting him for the first time. 

Sampo was a very lively fellow, very flamboyant for sure, but after the first few minutes you found yourself happy enough around him that you were happy to call him your brother. You gave him your number, as well as telling him your address, and you thought nothing of it. Gepard was very happy to know you got on so well with him, for a first conversation.

When Sampo shows up to your shared house, however, Gepard is the one who answers the door. He is very unimpressed to see this criminal at his doorstep, and he called backup as he chased him away. 

Once Gepard got back, he sat you down for a serious conversation.

“How long have you been seeing him?” He asks, thinking you’ve been cheating. “What does he give you that I can’t?”

“Sampo?” You ask, Gepard nodding. “He’s my brother, Gepard.”

“At least you haven’t been cheating.” Gepard sighs before pressing down on your shoulders, stopping you from standing up. He retracts his hands, not looking very relieved. “I need you to cut contact with him. He is a bad influence, and you shouldn’t have told him my address.”

“I only told him our address so he knew where to get me.” You explain. “And hanging out with him isn’t going to turn me into a bad person, Guppy.” You pout, Gepard not looking any happier.

“You know it wouldn’t look good. I can’t associate with bad people, and that means you also shouldn’t be associating either.” Gepard explains.

“Oh, like how your sister wasn’t alway-”

“Do not bring my sister into this!” He yells, balling his fists up. “My sister never did the things Sampo did.”

“Sampo isn’t as bad as you’re making him out to be!” You exclaim, laughing out of frustration. 

“Oh yeah, I’m sure he convinced you he was a saint!” Gepard growls, standing up and walking to your shared room. Before you knew it, he was packing your bags for you. Of course, he didn’t just throw them in, he folded your clothes and put your property away neatly. 

It told you he had checked out of this relationship the moment Sampo showed up at your door. 

“Guppy, please. Can we talk about this?” You yelp out, Gepard handing you your bags as he walks you to your front door. He shakes his head, opening the door and pushing you out before promptly slamming the door. 

Failing to hold back tears, you message your brother to explain your situation.

---

Natasha had been finishing with her last patient for her shift before planning to sleep before she hears knocking on the door. Upon opening it, she spots you.

“Good evening. How can I help you?” Natasha asks, planning out how she should treat you. 

“It’s a long story... Sampo told me that you’d be the best person for finding accommodation.” You begin, scratching the back of your head. “My boyfriend kicked me out when he found out Sampo is my brother, and I don’t know where I can stay. I’d be happy to help out however I can, and I understand if you don’t know where I can go.”

Natasha furrows her brows, bringing you into the clinic as she gestures over to a chair. 

“The clinic is open. It would be lovely to have a spare pair of hands.” Natasha responds, pulling out some paperwork to go through the mandatory items before starting your work.

[bewarethegrim]

Punk Steve but it's my random thoughts and it goes real off topic real fast:

After Nancy breaks up with him, Steve feels lost and untethered. He ends up in a shitty dive bar where a band called "Bad Brains" is playing. In that moment Steve falls in love with the punk scene.

No one there looked like they were trying to fit in, even with each other. The music was fast, loud and angry. He fucking loved it.

It started with a leather jacket. He found it at a thrift store, tired of the polos and khakis. On impulse, he grabs some paint and spikes from a craft store nearby.

He paints two spiked baseball bats on the back, crossing in an X.

One night, bored, he grabs a pair of scissors and cuts his hair. His hair was such a symbol of who he was, who he didn't want to me anymore. He cut the sides down and then shaved them with his razor. He kept the rest long, but he used his Farah Fawcett spray to make it messy instead of perfect.

A lip ring, a nose ring, and eyebrow piercing and rows of ear piercings follow. The only thing he doesn't get are any tattoos.

Billy Hargrove watches these changes from the side with a critical eye, convinced Steve is a poser. It's not until Billy runs into Steve at the Dive bar where Steve first heard Punk that Billy realises that maybe he was wrong. Steve seems to know everyone there, and they all seem to welcome him happily.

Billy tries to awkwardly apologise for beating the shit outta him a few months back, but Steve shrugs him off. He says "I get how it looked, and I can take a beating. But what you did and said to Lucas? That was fucked up."

And Billy wants to curl up in shame. Under all the spikes Steve has the most disappointed mom look.

And Billy knows that Steves right. His anger at Lucas was misplaced with his anger with his dad and his situation.

So Billy stalks up the Lucas at the arcade one day, and stares him down, noting with admiration when the younger boy doesn't back down.

"I'm sorry about that night." He says, stilted. "There are enough racist assholes in Hawkins, my old man included. Shouldn't have to deal with general assholes, too. Just don't let him catch wind of you and Maxine, got it?"

And Lucas looks shocked. But he nods and walks back to his anxious looking group of nerds.

After that, Steve actually approaches Billy. He asks for music recommendations at first, mostly. But that turns into asking if he wanted to come to shows, and just hanging out.

Eventually, Steve meets Robin at Scoops. His piercings are all out now, and his hair is growing out (at his parents insistence.) But he still wears his spiked jacket over his stupid scoops uniform with his black doc martens.

And Billy isn't jealous. He tells Heather that every time she claims he's "sulking" when Steve shows up with his pack of nerds at the pool, Robin often in tow now, too.

And when Billy hits something in the road, his gut instinct is to call Steve. And Steve doesn't laugh like he thought he would, he tells Billy to get back in the car and drive . And Billy listens. He gets his ass back in the slightly busted Camaro and speeds to the Harrington house where he promptly breaks the fuck down because what the fuck did he just see?

And Steve explains it all to him (Billy understands the nail bat now). And just like that Billy is apart of the Hawkins defense squad.

After the mindflayer (his dad is killed in the process, Billy counts that as a major win) he moves into the trailer park, Susan and Max living next door. That Munson kid lives across the road, and so Steve comes to his place more because he has better access to weed and other drugs.

Steve finds it hilarious when Munson introduces himself to Steve. Steve who's piercings are back in, hair recut and dyed bright red in some spots, and eyes lined with black eyeliner from his mom's vanity.

One night, when happily stoned, laying half naked on top of each other, Steve tracing Billy's skull tattoo, he asks Billy to tattoo him.

With the help of Eddie's machine, Steve's first tattoo says pretty boy in a banner underneath a spiked crown. Billy chose it, obviously.

Steve loves it.