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fic-over-cannon · 2 months

Text

Nothing Fucks With My Baby (Part 2)

link to part 1

jason todd x f!reader

summary: jason has always feared he’d be the monster of his life. what he doesn’t realize is that between the two of you, you will always be the bigger monster, and you will love him anyway.

tags: violence, murder, implied child abuse, manipulation, implied sexual content

rating: mature | wc: 5.8k

a/n: this plot bunny took over my brain and wouldn’t let me go until i’d finished it. reader’s pov can get pretty twisted, so please mind the tags on this one and let me know if i’ve missed any.

Lucy Nesbit dies remarkably young. Only eight years old and she had drowned in a stormwater overflow. Poor thing, the adults had all said. Should have minded her step better, shouldn’t have been playing in dangerous places. The school had held a week of mourning. A tragedy. It hadn’t taken much effort to kill her. A sharp shove, then kneeling on her back until the bubbles stopped, and suddenly there went Lucy. Stones thrown at recess, scissors searching for your hair, harsh names and turned backs all stopped with just a few moments of effort.

The killing of Lucy Nesbit is likely the most important lesson you learned from that school. No one at the foster home had noticed you come home soaking wet, blood on the tip of your shoe. No one had asked you any questions when you didn’t gasp with the rest of your class as the principal announced the death of poor little Lucy, gone too soon. Nobody had noticed that you had been the one to make the world a less scary place. It is a lesson you keep close to you.

Only Jason Todd had noticed anything different at all. Found you in the corner of the yard staring down at the pavement during recess. Tucked his hands and looked up at the sky, squinted.

“Don’t need me to look out for you anymore,” he sighs. Nudges your shoulder with his and says “Lucy won’t be pickin’ on you again.” He’s right, of course. She won’t be doing anything important really.

“Sometimes I wished she’d die so they’d leave me alone,” you whisper. “‘Cause it was bad when you were there but when she’d wait for you to leave it was always worse. Does that mean I’m a bad person?” It’s a thought that’s crossed your mind before. Is there something so wrong, so terrible about you that the well-fed well-heeled could just look at you and know there was something awful about you? The same thing that led to getting left behind, bullied, belittled. Had Lucy Nesbit taken one look at you and known you were something to be destroyed?

“Nah. You’re my best friend and I wouldn’t be best friends with anyone bad.” He grins at you, front left tooth still missing from where you’d helped him pull it out three weeks ago. The bell rings, shrill and discordant, signaling the end of recess.

It’s only years later that you understand the tremble of her lips and the wobble of her chin before she would call you names, dig her nails into the meat of your arm, lead the other girls in pretending you didn’t exist. Lovely Lucy Nesbit, sweet cheeked with glossy curls, had been afraid. She should have been. The new girl who’d only moved to the Alley recently after her father’s embezzlement conviction, oh she should have been afraid of the children chewing her up and spitting her out like a rotten peach. Instead, she chose someone else to make afraid. The little girl with only one friend and no one waiting for her at home. All of that glitz and Diamond District shine wasn’t enough to bury the ugly truth of Lucy.

Jason Todd dies at 11 years old. He dies at the hand of the Batman, Gotham’s own protector.

Three weeks after Catherine had died and two weeks after he stopped showing up to school, Jason shows up at your foster home. More particularly, at the window of the bathroom you’re currently hiding in. The knocking startles you, hands coming away from where they’d been pressed to your ears to block out the fighting. He grins and waves at you through the window, suspicious smears across his nose and temple. You have to stand on the very tips of your toes to push open the latch but you manage it. He presses his face to the bars, hands wrapping around the solid metal.

“Jason?” you ask, tone tinged with wonder. “What are you doing here?”

“Jus’ wanted to tell you I’m okay.” Something smashes within the house and the voices raise. “Couldn’t stick around for long after the funer— after. Didn’t wanna stick around to see if they’d stick me in a place like this.”

“But what are you going to do? Where do you live?”

“Found an empty building that’s pretty warm. Sometimes I find stuff and Mr. Baker at the garage buys ‘em from me so I can buy loads of snacks. You know—” there’s a loud pounding on the bathroom door, staccato sharp, that causes you both to jump. One of the older foster kids yells at you to hurry the fuck up, then slams on the door again for good measure. In a hurried whisper, Jason continues “You know the old building across the park with the purple window sills? Come find me there.”

The night Jason Todd dies, you’d managed to sneak out again. Knew from previous trips the best way to get to the old house was to go out the back and use the garbage bins to boost over the fence. Jason’s not there when you let yourself in, hands careful to put the loose board back exactly the same. He does this sometimes. ‘Finds’ things to sell to Mr. Baker so he can come back with candy from the bodega to share with you. You settle yourself in to wait in the blanket you’d snuck out for him when there’s a noise from the lane behind the house. Clutching the scratchy blanket closer to you, you feel your way through the dark, breath held in your chest like a treasure. The slats nailed over the painted window sills have just enough of a gap that you can see between them without being seen yourself. What you see out in the night causes you to grip the old wood until splinters dig into your palms.

The Bat holds Jason in his grip even as he struggles, even as he swears. Jason’s angry, snarling face is nothing like his smiles for you. The Bat shakes him as Jason tries to twirl out of his grip, head lolling like a doll’s. Jason goes limp as he is bundled into the looming machine parked down the lane. The last thing you see of him is his eyes, wide and fearful.

Jason Wayne puppets the body of your friend for years after. He is not the boy that stood between you and Lucy Nesbit and matched her stone for stone. This Jason Wayne smiles for pictures without baring his teeth as a warning. He doesn’t remember cruel words or the way the world works. He doesn’t remember the lessons and the secrets the two of you had passed between you. No, this Jason Wayne doesn’t remember you at all. The only explanation is that your friend is dead. The fine sweet thing with his round cheeks and charming school uniform you only glimpse in the paparazzi photos printed in gossip rags half-melted into garbage heaps is not your friend. Just another leech of the city with pretty powder and paint, fattened on too much while there exists too little.

You get the news that Jason Wayne has died while at your third foster home since the one Jason had found you in. You find out the same way everyone else in Gotham does, the public broadcast of Bruce Wayne’s press conference. It steals the breath from you, the anger that slams into you. Heat surges through you and it is all you can do to uncurl your fingers from their fists. It hadn’t escaped you that four months after Jason Todd died there was a new Robin in town. That this Robin had a gaped tooth grin that would make even the dull mourning for a girl you hated seem bearable. The red rimmed eyes of Bruce Wayne on the staticky screen of the common room television confirms what you already know: Bruce Wayne is the Bat and he has killed your friend twice over.

Screaming into your pillow that night, your understanding of how the city works crystallizes. The Bat does not protect you, does not make your city better. He takes and he takes until there is nothing left for you. He throws out in a week food that would sustain you for a month, drops money on batted eyelashes and shiny new toys for him to destroy more of the city with. He is not the saviour some people say he is. He will not save you.

You are the Alley girl with the strange knobbly knees and the eyes that see too much. You will save yourself. You will keep your lessons about the ways the world works and what it takes to change them close to your heart.

The City of Gotham is never short of two things: crime and government money to prosecute it. Certifying as a court stenographer isn’t cheap, not with juggling your ejection from the foster system at 18 and having no funds to speak of. Second and third jobs keep you afloat until the scholarships and grants kick in. But by 20 your future is secured, government pension squirreling away into your accounts. You even manage to buy the house with the purple windows. It goes for a song on account of the murder that took place there all those years ago, but brand new flooring takes care of the more suspicious stains. It should be enough, to have saved yourself. It isn’t.

Every day you go to work and dutifully take down every damning word said. You record the lies and the horrors and the not guilty verdicts and every word you transcribe breaks your faith a little more. You have not saved yourself. The world has not changed, you aren’t any safer than you were at 13 and scared that the drunk man calling out crude words might actually carry them out on your walk home. No safety exists save for the pretty little lie you had painted for yourself. The only thing that has changed is that you are not scrabbling in the dirt.

Somewhere along the way, in the mess of bureaucratic paperwork that had become your life, you had forgotten the lessons you were meant to remember. Forgetting had not served you well. It takes a drunken night out gone badly to force you to remember.

A coworker pressures you to come out with the rest of the stenographers, a newly opened bar just close enough to the edge of the Alley to give the old money blood suckers the illusion of danger. The dance floor is crowded but you choose to stay hunched over your drink, wary of this glittering crowd. A man sidles up to you, rests his forearm against yours and offers you a smile that reeks of Texas oil wells and Manhattan construction firms. You look him in the eye as he fumbles through some pickup lines, nearly sick with the realization that he doesn’t recognize you. DUI, ran through a school crosswalk at the end of the school day, one child dead and two permanently disfigured. Got off with community service and a hefty donation. He wants to fuck you.

The police find him behind the bar the next morning, throat slashed and wallet missing, and chalk it up to a mugging gone wrong. He should have known better than to go flashing so much cash so close to where criminals live, the news anchors tut. Unable to withstand the scandal, the bar closes. You savour the top shelf whiskey bottle you’d bought at their closing, the same one he’d tried to buy you and drug you with, and attribute the glow in your belly to having done a good thing. His driver’s license finds a home under your living room floorboards.

The Red Hood arrives and the Alley almost seems to reverberate with the shockwaves. Still, pretty young things with a hankering for a bit of rough to tell all their friends about with champagne glasses in their hands and haughty titters wind up dead. You don’t recognize all of them from work, some of them you simply want power over. To reveal to these silver spoon fed creatures exactly how fragile their influence is. Disposing of them does not save you, but it makes you feel safe to know that the world does not turn solely around those shiny, fragile things. You are careful and you are not caught.

At the courthouse, you watch the aftermath of the Hood’s vendettas play out. Chat about cases with your coworkers between trials just to get a feel for what his game is. He’s an unknown to most of them, but not to you. You look at how the number of drug convictions of minors plummet this quarter, watch at how fewer pimps get brought in for killing their girls, note the way gang violence reduces down to just the Hood’s own orders and you understand. Whoever the Hood is, whatever he is, he knows the same lessons engraved on your heart. That the world is not safe unless you make it, and that the world doesn’t care what methods it takes to get it done.

Your first run in with Gotham’s newest crime lord isn’t planned. Quite specifically, you had never intended to make your way onto his radar at all. He had different plans, however. Taking out the garbage, you all but trip over his feet one late night. He’s slumped against your fence with one hand pressed against his neck. Blood dribbles between his fingers, dark under the fluorescent burn of the street lights.

The gun pointing at your head does not dissuade you from attempting to push him into a standing position.

“If you wanted to die in my yard, the least you could have done is climbed in through the back,” you say, voice measured and cold. “I’m not letting you bleed out in my front yard and make me a target for whoever carved you that second smile.” That jolts a reaction out of him, gun wavering from it’s unerring focus on your face. “So what we’re going to do is get you out of the open and then I’m going to call whoever you want to come stitch you up.”

A man of his size dwarfs the chair set in your kitchen but he will not be moved from his vantage point. Defensive, back to the wall and all entrances in sight. The wound still bleeds sluggishly. Determined not to have this man die in your kitchen, not when he’s actually out there doing some good in the world, you lay out your first aid kit and go for his throat. The gun jamming into the side of your ribs immediately lets you know just how badly you’ve not thought this idea out.

“You’re still bleeding, pretty badly too. I just want to take a look to see if I can patch you up long enough until whoever gets here can do something.”

The moment draws out, neither of you saying anything. With every breath you can feel the muzzle of the gun dig into you further. Something must read as sincere on your face, not that you’d ever be able to name what it was, and he reaches up for his helmet. Pushes a button at the nape of his neck to release it, before deliberately placing it on the kitchen table one handed. He smiles at you with bloodied teeth and, oh, that’s your boy.

“Well,” he rasps, “get to it.”

At that exact moment you press down with gauze, forcing a grunt out of him. Good. Jason’s scared you enough for a single lifetime. Trying to secure the gauze with medical tape and spite, you’re forced to lean into him until the feverish glow of his skin warms your own.

“Not afraid ‘m gonna bite?”

“I know you’re not going to hurt me because you’re my best friend and I wouldn’t be friends with a bad person.” Leaning back, you inspect your work. Shoddy, but it’ll do until someone actually medically trained can stitch him up. Finally, you let yourself actually look at him. Behind the domino mask you’d swear there’s slack jawed wonder. A brusque knock at the back door interrupts the moment and then great big hulking men are carrying Jason away. You know he’ll be back.

The next time you run into the man who might be Jason, you are tripping out of a bar on the arm of your next pretty bright thing, too whiskey-headed to tell that you’re nowhere near as disoriented as you should be after what you’d knocked back. He knocks over a homeless man’s collection bowl and snickers when the coins get knocked down a grate. Grabbing your wrist, he tugs, pulls you into the side alley and tries to pin you behind the dumpster. The broken bottle shard is already in your hand when the man drops down dead. A neat hole in his head sending droplets all over your blouse. There’s no way dry cleaning will save it. The Red Hood steps into sight, gun muzzle lowered. And just like that, Jason Todd — not Jason Wayne — is back from the dead.

Jason kisses you sweetly for the first time after he drives you home from the traveling fair that had set up on the outskirts of the city. The feeling of his lips — soft, chapped, heartbreakingly gentle — slots something broken back into the hollow between your ribs. He kisses you and the axis of your world shifts. He kisses you, and you know that he will look at you like you are everything good and kind that you pretend to be if only you will love him back. The tender thing in your chest growing claws, fanning hunger into conflagration. Loving him will save you both.

He pulls back and you let him. Look up at him from below mascara-lengthened lashes and allow yourself a smile. Fiddle with the hem of your dress and tell him haltingly just how much you’d enjoyed the evening and how excited you were to do this again. Jason’s declared himself as yours for the taking and you will not let him slip through your greedy fingers.

You let Jason court you. Accept the flowers he brings to your door with quiet murmurs of appreciation. Wear soft dresses that invite him to touch but are just enough out of season for the weather so he’ll wrap his own jacket around you. Send him off to patrol with packets of his favourite candies tucked into his jacket pockets and laugh with him over the meals he cooks for you in the same kitchen he had nearly bled out in. You would have done most of these things for him anyway, but now they are your weapons. Each action meant to pierce another hook into his heart until he is as unable to leave you behind as you could him. You will never believe the world is safe without him in it.

The number of Gotham’s most elite reprobates coming to unfortunate ends zeroes out. You’ve got the prettiest up and comer on your arm these days, with his many scars and fearsome attitude. Jason in his many forms makes the world a better place, makes you safer with every bullet lodged in a skull. He is not the same boy that yelled at Lucy Nesbit for you or split a chocolate bar with you in an abandoned house. The cracks show through. Violence drips out of his every pore despite his hand wringing to you late at night. You are his confessor and absolve him of any sin. A fangless creature is useless to you, though you would grudgingly love it nonetheless.

The first time Jason sleeps with you, you engineer it, encourage it. Why? Because it ties him to you. Binds him through sweat and flesh in a way that nothing else but the kiss of death can. Lean in and wrap your arms low around his stomach as he drives you home on his motorcycle. Linger in his good night kiss before inviting him in to see how the flowers he gave you are doing. Sweep your hair away from your neck as you bend down to place his mug of tea on the rickety coffee table. You close your eyes and smile where he can’t see at the feeling of warm lips pressed to your spine.

It’s slow. It’s sweet. You’ve never felt like a more precious thing than in his arms. He looks at you like you’ve hung the moon in the sky and set the sun to burning. You kiss his scars and tell him to give you his stories when he’s ready. One day there will be nothing you don’t know about him. If Jason wasn’t in love with you before tonight, he is now.

You are told the tale of Jason’s deaths and rebirths only once, but it is enough to open up the yawning chasm of fear under you again. The world is not safe, not for Jason, not for you, not when so many of your enemies still walk this side of the grave. Gotham is safer after the Red Hood. Jason is still in as much danger as he ever was. The horror, the possibility that he could be cut down — by Falcone, by Sionis, by the Joker, by the Bat — it shakes you to your core. You want to scream, to rage. What you do instead is kiss Jason on the forehead and let him go to pieces in your arms.

Jason always says you bring out the best in him. If that is true, then he brings out the darkest parts of you. The parts that twist and grow cold until you see the world as sets of acceptable losses for acceptable benefits. In your eyes, any loss is acceptable for Jason’s sake. He becomes lighter after the revelation, no more secrets between you he says. Accepts your heartbreak on his behalf with teary eyes and a wry smile. The day he tells you that Bruce — his father, the Bat — had been the one to carve him open the time he’d turned up in your garden is the day he becomes wholly yours.

“Jason, Jason he shouldn’t have done that to you,” you say gently, cupping his wet cheeks in your palms. He won’t look you in the eyes.

“He was— he was lookin’ at me like I was the monster, like my murderer wasn’t standing there too,” he confesses. “I just wanted him to love me like when I was a kid.” He shatters. “I just wanted to feel safe again.”

“Oh honey,” you coo, shears tucked into your hand. “I love you, and you’re no monster to me. You know me, do you think I could love something truly evil? You do so much good, you help so many people and you ask for so little in return,” your gaze is tender, loving. “I’d keep you safe, Jay, if I could. And I’d do it because I love you. Someone that won’t do that, well, it’s no kind of love at all.” You see the blow land, have already calculated its trajectory and velocity.

“I don’t— but he loved me. He loves me,” Jason insists, plaintive and raw voiced. “Doesn’t he?”

“I think he might’ve once. When you were younger, sweeter. But Jason, everything he’s done since then hasn’t been love. If he still loves you, it wouldn’t matter that you came back different, came back changed.” You can feel the last threads of his relationship with the Bat fraying under the blades of your words. It’s time to make the final cut. “Can you really say he loves who you are now?”

Jason asks, once, if you ever thought about kids.

“I thought maybe I’d foster some day. Save some poor kids the same trouble I went through, so that others don’t run off scared like you did.” It’s a lie, of course, but you know it makes him feel better to think of you as anything but selfish. “Not now though, not with the way the world is.” You rest your head on his shoulder, curl your fingers into his shirt. “Besides, the life you lead is dangerous enough. It would be cruel to bring children into our lives right now. Maybe one day, if the world ever becomes a little safer.”

He hums, thoughtfully, and leaves the matter there. But the seed has been planted in the dark corners of his mind and one day they will bear fruit.

The house with the purple window sills is officially only a home to you, but Jason comes round for dinner, to spend the night in your bed so often, that it may as well be his home too. He listens to you talk about your long days at work, the court cases that worm their way under your skin and won’t leave until you purge yourself of them. Really, he’s more horrified than you were at the beginning of this at how badly broken the system is. You give no names, simply the crimes and the sentences, and even those details are too much to bear.

One night you come home from work silent. Red rimmed eyes dry and sightless, you collapse into him. It takes an hour, more if you count the time spent panicking over a hypothetical injury, to coax the story out of you. A snake in the grass of a financial adviser, stolen pensions, and three suicides. All charges dropped. The testimony of crying grandchildren still not enough to make a difference. It is the first time he demands a name from you. It is not the last.

The day your old foster father comes across your judge’s docket is the day the world finally feels less terrifying. He is acquitted, of course. The testimony of trauma victims are notoriously inconsistent after all, if the witness is truly traumatized and not just lying for attention. It hurts to hear his public defender say those things, but it does make what you have planned easier.

The moment Jason comes through the door you are on him. Clinging to him all weak limbs and fought back tears. He holds you gently and strokes your hair.

“I need… I need you to do something for me Jay,” you whisper into his chest.

“Just gotta ask baby.”

“I need you to kill somebody and I need you to let me watch.” He stiffens under you, but you will not lose him here. “D’you remember when you came to find me at the foster home, the one with the yelling?” He nods, presses a kiss to the top of your head. “That foster father walked free today, acquitted and all charges dropped. I need to know he’s not gonna stay that way Jay, that someone cared enough to stop him, or otherwise I’ll go crazy.” He exhales sharply through his nose.

“I’ll take care of him, jus’ like I take care of all those names you give me. But do you hafta be there? Isn’t it enough to just know he’s dead? I don’t wanna drag you down into the dirt with me.”

“You’re not tainting me, honey. You’re freeing me.”

You watch the man die, a slow drawn out thing as he begs for kindness. His pain means nothing to you. Only the final blow, dealt by Jason’s bloodied hands, shifts the burden of memory from you. You stop being afraid of this particular threat. The body is found scattered across the railroad tracks. Police mark it down as a suicide.

This victory is twofold. Your world is a little safer and Jason has killed for you, on your express order and with you as witness. There is no greater high than this, the power that sings through your blood. Jason will reshape the world to keep you safe. Now you will reshape the world for him.

It takes three more months of witnessing his work and not flinching before Jason brings him to you. In the end, it’s really quite simple. You ask for the chance to show Jason how much he is loved, to let you take care of this one thing to keep him safe. He puts up a token fight, insistent on keeping your hands clean of his business, but the two of you know that your hands are far from pristine. The Joker is bound at your feet by the end of the day. A quick drag of your wrist and he is just another thing to be taken out with Saturday’s trash to eventually be illegally dumped in the harbour. Jason sobs in your arms that night.

He is not the boy you’d wished to have returned to you as a child. Jason is not quite the Bat’s son, or the weapon of the League either. He is some half-raised creature of the city’s own design and you love him because of that. You know he does not see you half as clearly as you see him, but you will accept his wonderful naïveté for all the ways it will let you protect him. Protect you by extension. Jason’s trust, his devotion to you, it is everything you’ve ever wanted. It is more than you have ever expected to have. That forgotten little Alley girl, now the centre of someone’s world.

And so you plan. A list of names a mile long of people who make this city worse just by breathing. Kingpins and crime lords and all their networks, culled from your networks and court cases. Heroes and vigilantes who already work tirelessly to hamstring the work the Red Hood does, uncaring of all the lives he’s saved. A list that, when all of the occupants are dead, will mean you are finally safe in a world that belongs to Jason. Convincing Jason, with all of his infinite love for you, to wipe the slate clean of them all is still no easy matter. Instead, you let the Bat make your argument for you.

Another bar, another drunk cell-less jailbird, only this time you know that Jason is waiting in the shadows, that the Bat is in the rafters. The man stumbles, his too shiny shoes catching on the cracks in the pavement. Jason moves to raise his gun and a flicker of metal sends his aim wide. The man on your arm shies at the sound of gunfire but your grip is iron. A body slides between Jason and his prey and you refuse to let this one escape. The pen knife lodges beneath the jaw bone, catches on something and sticks. His death rattle is unsightly but he goes down easy, life slipping away down the sewer grate. A booted step, heavier than Jason’s, causes your head to snap up.

A wraith looms over you and it’s pure terror that sends your stomach into free fall. The Bat turns on you, advances until your back is pressed up against the brick. A gloved hand reaches for you but pulls back like stung when a bullet narrowly misses a finger.

“Last warning. Back. Off.” growls the modulated voice of the Red Hood. He prowls forward, legs eating up the distance. The Bat simply grunts. Back to the wall, you try to inch away, but the feeling of cold metal stops you. The cuff around your wrist cinches shut so tightly you can feel the bones of your wrist grind together. You whimper, high in your throat. Jason’s fist goes crashing into the cowl.

“I said back off!” the Bat catches his next punch, before returning a hit of his own.

“She just killed someone in cold blood, Hood. You’re protecting a murderer.”

“At least she did something, Bruce! D’you even know what that man did? What you let him do to this city?” he screams the last word then headbutts the Bat.

The alley descends into a flurry of blows, bodies colliding with metal and concrete. Neither of them notice you pick yourself up from knees and flee. Home’s not safe, not until Jason tells you. But he’ll come back for you. You’ve gotten so good at waiting for Jason, what’s a few hours more?

He finds you in the safe house he’d made you memorize the address of way back in the infancy of your relationship. Nerves have you sitting in the dark, too afraid that even a light will give you away. It is a cold kind of silence that blankets the small kitchen with its empty cupboards. Dried blood has started to flake off of your skin and you begin to pick at it. For a moment, the repetitive motions distract you until you can’t bear the prickly feeling on your skin anymore. With a clatter you rush to the tap, the trailing handcuff clanging against the metal sink. A stone rolls in your gut and you retch until there is nothing left in it. Everything rests on this. The future rests on this. You lean back and rest your forehead on the cool edge of the sink.

The sound of the window jimmying open causes you to jump, whirling around to face the threat. It’s Jason, only Jason, flailing around in the dark. The streetlights reflect off of his helmet, revealing the cracks in the patina. You launch yourself at him, fingers curling into the collar of his coat. He smells of blood and grime, but beneath it all, warmth. Jason crushes you to him, hand cradling the back of your head with a tenderness that overwhelms you.

“M’sorry I’m late baby,” he murmurs. “Why’s it so dark in here?” Unable to form words, you simply shake your head and press yourself closer. Fear has always dogged you, but never have you gotten so close to the source of it. Jason raises a hand and wraps it reassuringly around your wrist. “Let’s get some light and we’ll get this thing off of you,” he says while stroking a thumb over where the cuff digs into your skin.

You have to stifle a giggle at the absurd parallel to the night he tore back into your life. The two of you sat at a table tending to wounds inflicted by Gotham’s self-titled vengeance, the uncertainty of the future hanging over you. Hands gentler than they’ve ever been, Jason traces over the blooming bruises on your wrist, handcuffs discarded on the table.

“He’s never going to stop chasing me, is he?” you whisper, slow fear poisoning your voice. “He’s never gonna stop trying to take me away from you. Not while I’m alive.” Jason trails his grip to your palm and turns it over, brings it to his lips and places a featherlight kiss on your fourth knuckle.

“No, baby. Not while he’s alive.”

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year

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Am I the asshole for not wanting to go out for dinner with Granddaddy?

CW: long post

My (43, FtM) husband's (39,M) family experienced several very grievous losses, including my husband's stepdad and his maternal grandmother, in 2022. MIL is not taking things well, which is to be expected, but she has a tendency to use hubby's deceased dad against him if he can't or does not wish to do something (e.g. bursting into tears and going "I wish your dad was still here, he would have known how to fix the chainsaw and trimmed the trees!" "I wish your dad was still here, HE wouldn't have told me to call a plumber for the toilet!" Also going on utterly unrelated rants that upset everyone in our home and blaming it on her grief.) Worth noting she hasn't ever pulled these tricks with hubby's younger brother (27M) despite him living with her. Also worth noting that she has said some really nasty things about me, my gender and sexuality over the last few years simply because I encourage him to stand up for himself, and has apologised to him but never to me. Nonetheless, we are family and we abide. (This is relevant backstory, I do not need to be told she sucks, we been knew.)

PRESENT! Since Grandmother (hubby's grandmother, who hated me even more openly than MIL does for being trans and turning her grandson gay, and always played her kids, grandkids and great grandkids against each other) died, Granddaddy (84M, hubby's grandfather) has been a bit at sea. "NTA!" i can hear you shouting, but Granddaddy is actually a solid dude-- has never misgendered me, is unfailingly kind to me and has always made me feel like part of the family in a way *no one else* in hubby's family does. He's lovely, funny, intelligent-- used to work in aeronautics and loves that i love his sci fi books, and adores exchanging silly cheesy jokes with me when we hang out. He's *great!* 10/10 Granddaddy.

MIL is of the opinion that Graddaddy needs to be taken out to dinner *every night*. He can never have a night alone; he can never call an uber to go out by himself; and we certainly cannot make a meal and take it to his home to eat in. He MUST be taken out to dinner EVERY night because it's the only social interaction he gets.

It's killing our wallet, y'all-- we aren't poor, but we have three kids. We've whittled it down to us taking him out twice a week, but he doesn't want to go to McDonald's, he wants to go to the local Italian or fish place, and it's *not* cheap, especially when paying for six! MIL "takes him out" five times a week (which usually means dropping him off and going to the gym while he makes waitresses uncomfortable because he's from a different generation), but she has decided two days a week are on us (we aren't just going to drop him for play dates because that doesn't make him OR the waitstaff happy!). Mind, we never agreed to this-- she just decided it, and if we argue against it we get hysterics about hubby's dad.

I am autistic and truly do not like going out more than a couple times a month at most. I have urgently suggested that I could make dinner at Granddaddy's a couple times a month, but this is NOT acceptable according to MIL. We HAVE to go out, he's GRIEVING and LONELY, isn't he?

No, no one has actually asked Granddaddy how he would feel about this, and I am a monster for even asking them to.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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just-some-trans-nobody · 10 months

Text

December Christmas Monster stories

December 13.) Half giant x GN reader

Warnings: depression, hating job, job quitting, size difference

Minors Don't Interact!

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Working as one of Santa's elf was a seasonal job, the pay was shit but it was fun. Pretty much volunteer work. There was a bonus though. It came in the form of the man playing Santa named Treg.

He was a half giant and standing next to him in your work uniform you really did look like a Christmas elf. Treg was kind to everyone, always smiling. You couldn't help but be drawn to him. It helped that you were one of his main elfs. Every shift he had you worked too. Always right next to him helping him with the kids or getting him water. Any time he had to get up and walk somewhere you were with him to make sure he didn't bump into any kids. It was hard seeing kids when you were that big. Treg was always so happy when you helped him out. Constantly thanking you for every little thing you did for him.

Treg often would make you a cup of hot chocolate during your shared break. It always tasted better when he made it. The two of you would always chat the whole break before going back to going to work.

The work gossip was that both of you were dating in secret. Though any time the two of you were confronted Treg vehemently denied it. You did so too, just less convincing than him. One of your coworkers noticed this and asked you in private if you wished you were dating him. You frowned as you nodded your head. They gave you a look of pity before walking away.

They must have said something to Treg because after that day he started avoiding you. It hurt badly when suddenly your schedule changed from his. You had been replaced by another worker who preferred to pose for the photos and flirt with all the parents instead of helping Treg. Not that you could do anything about it, you were assigned to a different Santa. He was a satyr who didn't care about his job, he worked the dead shift hardly anyone came around when he worked and he liked it that way.

Your fun job became miserable in less than a week all because you couldn't get a handle on your dumb one sided crush. You didn't smile at work anymore, what was the point?

Before the end of the second week you had turned in your uniform and quit. You went home and cried that night. The next day you went out to the store to go get comfort food. Walking around the store you filled your cart with tooth rotting snacks. Your heart hurt so you wanted your stomach to hurt more to take your mind away from it.

Walking around absentmindedly you didn't pay attention to anything until you heard heavy footsteps. Looking up you saw Treg approaching you. You had the urge to run away from him but found yourself frozen in place. “Y/n? I heard you quit? Why did you do that?” His voice sounded heart broken. Why did he sound heart broken? Treg was the one who rejected and ignored you, not the other way around.

“What does it matter to you? You made it clear you didn't like me when you started ignoring me.” You snorted, turning your head to look anywhere but at him. “I only started distancing myself because I realized I liked you too and that scared me. I'm constantly scared that I'm not going to know your next to me and I'll accidently hurt you.” Treg explained stepping closer to you. “Didn't every day we worked together prove I could handle that? You never hurt me before, why worry about that now?” You asked, glancing at him. “Because the thought of being with you meant a higher chance of hurting you but when you were gone it hurt even worse.” His eyes were starting to water as he talked.

How could you be upset at that face? Looking down at your feet you stepped forward reaching your hand out to hold his sleeve. “I'd take that risk to be with you.” You told him, looking up at him. “For you? I'd risk anything.” Treg said carefully, holding your hand in his large one. You looked like a doll compared to him, you kind of liked it.

#monster #monster fucker #monster stories #monster boyfriend #monster x male #monster x reader #monster x female #monster x human #monster x male reader #monster x fem!reader #monster x female reader #monster x nonbinary reader #giant x reader #half giant #half giant x reader #size difference #size k!nk #december christmas monster stories

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the-possum-writes · 1 year

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Hi! Could you do a Finn x Fem reader lemon? Maybe it could be with and inexperienced reader while finn already has some knowledge about it and shows her how to do it. Thank you! <3

[Finn with an Inexperienced Reader]

❥Character: Finn Mertens

❥Tags: NS/FW hc's, handj0bs, established relationship, fem!reader

❥Synopsis: Finn takes things slow with you but you convince him to teach you how he likes to be touched.

❥A/N: I was going through a writing block so there's no full smut but rather some handsy stuff.

❥Whether you've been dating for years or just a few weeks, if you tell Finn you want to take things slowly, he'll respect your wishes.

❥Only kissing and hugging, nothing more.

❥But that doesn't take away how startling it is when a kissing session becomes too intense, and just as you feel the warmth cling to your heart and stomach in a tightening squeeze, Finn pulls away from you and acts as if nothing happened, resuming whatever video game you were playing or changing the subject.

❥You know where babies come from and all that basic biology class, but you have yet to personally experience it and are kind of wary of unplanned pregnancies, that's why you told Finn you wanted to take things slow.

❥And he was okay with that, but it didn't stop the growing doubt since you know he's had past encounters with other girls before. "Is he getting frustrated at me cause I'm making him wait?" you'd start asking yourself.

❥Finn is a passionate and outgoing guy who pours his heart into everything he does, whether it's fighting monsters, reading comic books, or simply indulging in his favorite meals. And, given how much he adores you, you're filled with illogical guilt at the thought of preventing Finn from physically expressing his feelings for you.

❥You've already asked him directly. "Finn, are you mad that we haven't done couple things?"

"But we always do couple things."

"No I mean like, tier 15 stuff and all that."

"Oh... Not really.."

❥He's a straightforward and laid-back guy, so it didn't occur to you until lately when, on a day when you didn't feel confident, you pushed yourself to kiss him by placing your hand on his thigh and running it upward. Finn stopped you by holding your hand so he could ask you, "Are you sure you want to do this now?"

You try to kiss his neck while saying, "I know you've been dying to-," but Finn is insistent. If there's anything he's learnt from his previous relationship, it's to avoid diving into pleasures on a whim.

"It's not about what I want, I'm asking about you." His tone has changed a little bit, especially in light of your earlier question.

❥As self-doubt circles in your thoughts and seeps beyond your eyes, you choose to keep quiet, but Finn squooze-hugs you to his chest.

"We don't need to rush anything; I'm pretty happy with you so far. We can do those things when you don't have any more uncertainties in your lovely head."

❥"Alright, there's something I can teach ya but we have to keep our voices down. You don't need to take off anything so don't worry, we'll just be using your hands."

❥"But what if I do wanna do those things but I want to take it a small step at a time? Like when you taught me how to swim." you bring up.

Finn adjusts his hold on you, the two of you were in the middle of a movie night and are currently on the couch. Jake is already asleep and BMO is probably lurking around the treefort but he promised to not peep at you two during visiting hours.

❥Finn leans back on the couch's headrest, allowing you to rest on his thighs as he tells you."How about I give you a lesson in Finn-biology?" he chuckles."I can't say no to my favorite subject." you respond. Considering the stories and experiences you've heard from your close friends, you have only a rough idea of what he's considering, but you're nonetheless anxious, intrigued, and interested about it.

❥Finn starts out by smooching you, easing a bit of your nerves as he gently grabs your hand and lowers it down his chest until it reaches his groin, he motions for you to rub him through his shorts, feeling something grow underneath.

❥It's warm, really warm.

❥Finn raises himself from the couch to lower his shorts with his underwear, and you remain silent while watching his half hard dick peeking out from the confines of his baby blue trousers. You temptingly touch his head with the tip of your fingers, unconsciously wrapping more and more of your around around him until he finches a bit, pulling away at the discouragement. "It's okay, it just needs something slick." he assures you. At the mention of it you're unconsciously rubbing your thighs together upon feeling something getting wet downstairs, but you don't bring it up.

❥The attention has Finn squirming in his spot but he continues with the lesson.

"Give me your hand." he asks. When you do he purposely spits on his dick and guides your hand to smear it all over him, amplifying the prominent musky smell coming from him.

"It's sensitive here." he explains in short breaths, hearing his panting picking up the more you run your fingers over the underside of his shaft right where it connects with his pink gland.

❥Once you've gotten the hang of it, Finn releases your hand and lets you try a few more things. What if I squeeze here? What if I touch this tiny hole with my finger? What if I gently squeeze his balls? Finn struggles to form meaningful sentences any longer and is only able to utter things like, "Just like that," "That feels good," and "Wait not like that, there you go... Oh Glob..."

❥It's a hypnotic and undeniably sexy experience, watching him lose himself in his own pleasure to the point where he forgot the reason for this little lesson until he came all over your palm and soiled his own shirt in the process.

#finn the human x reader #finn mertens x reader #adventure time #reader insert #finn the human #adventure time x reader #finn mertens

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 3 months

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@steddie-week Day 4 - body swap

i'm challenging myself to keep each of these at 660 words; see day one for more of an explanation!

“Eddie! Eddie wake up!”

Steve’s own sleepy face blinks up at him confused, then snaps into shock when his body throws itself backward and nearly off the bed. “Jesus H. Christ!”

“What the fuck is happening, Eddie?!”

“Steve?”

“Yeah it’s Steve, and this is not my dick!”

Steve watches his own face shift into a scowl, “Why’re you looking at my dick?!”

“How else am I supposed to piss? I didn’t even realize there was something wrong until I fuckin’ whipped it out!” Steve feels his throat strain as his voice pitches higher, “Lo’ and behold, I look in the mirror and your stupid face is staring back at me!”

“Hey! My face isn’t stupid.”

“You’re right, it’s the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen,” he says, voice teetering on sarcastic. “Now what in the actual fuck is happening?!”

Eddie opens his mouth to reply, and there’s no doubt it’d be scathing, but instead, Steve watches the color drain from his face.

“Oh fuck”

“What?”

“Oh fuck! I’m so sorry Steve.”

“For what??”

“I– Okay, we were pretty toasted last night but I distinctly remember thinking– wishing I suppose– that you could..” Eddie gulps once, loudly, and it’s weird to see so much of the mannerisms he’s learned to pick up on whenever he’s around the other man, plastered on his own face..

“...You wished?” He leads when Eddie doesn’t continue.

“I wished that you could see me the way I see you.“

Now it’s Steve's turn to let the cogs turn.

He can recognize the tone of his own voice, the vulnerable lilt to it. Eddie’s nervous.

Eddie wanted Steve to see him the way.. Does that mean..Eddie also has feelings for him?

Instead of unpacking all that, Steve says, “And you think that’s what happened here?”

Eddie huffs a sigh, he still hasn’t made eye contact with him (himself?). “I mean, sure, that’s what always happens with wishes, the genie plays with your words.”

“Always.” Steve deadpans, watching Eddie run his fingers (Steves! Steve’s own fingers!) though his (again, Steve’s!) hair

“Yeah! They always twist shit around to teach you some fucked up lesson, or just to fuck with you.” Eddie starts to chew on one of the aforementioned fingers then, nibbling on what Steve knows is some unseen flaw on his cuticle.

“Eddie, genies aren’t real.”

“Yeah, well, until this past spring, I didn’t think that monsters from another dimension were real either.'' The same finger goes back to his teeth once he’s finished talking, and, curious, Steve looks down at his (Eddie's, damn this is still weird) same finger, the pointer of his right hand. There’s a noticeable divot in the skin there on the side of his nailbed, and it’s pink still, recently gnawed.

“Dude! Don’t chew my finger off!”

Eddie ignores the request, “You’re not gonna say anything?”

“About what? My poor finger?”

“No! About—” he cuts himself off, dropping the hand to wipe his finger on the leg of his pants. “Nevermind, what are we gonna do about this?”

“No, what were you going to say?”

“Nothing man, let’s just figure this out.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll say it then; Argyle’s actually a genie and his “super mellow” La Uva Loca made us swap bodies because you think I don’t find you as hot as you find me.” Steve looks at his own face, jaw dropped and eyes wide in surprise..and promises himself to never make that face again. “If I knew it was going to cause such a problem, I would’ve told you how I felt a while ago.”

Eddie blinks once more, then rolls his eyes, “Ha Ha Ha, very funny Steve. Now really, what are we going to do?”

“I wasn’t kidding Eddie. I’ve thought you were hot since we found you at Rick’s.”

Eddie’s gaping again.

“And sure, it’ll be weird, but I have an idea.”

He sighs, “Alright, sure. Lay it on me, big boy.”

Steve grins, “Kiss me.”

on AO3 here!

#this is so dumb and goofy lmao #and yes i did use the strain name from clone high lmao #argyle isn't actually a genie btw #though that would be hilarious lmao #(or is he 👀)#steddie #steddieweek #steve harrington #eddie munson #body swap #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #eddeve #steveddie #noelle writes #this was the first one i wrote for steddie week!#steddieweek2024

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barbarianprncess · 8 months

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annabeth chase and her many losing dogs: an (incomplete) anthology

read on ao3

chapter one: a (brief) introduction to the game and it's players

She gives Cerberus her red rubber ball.

Because he’s a monster, but she doesn’t think he means to be.

Because he’s a lonely dog and she is lonely the same way. The kind that doesn’t know how lonely it is until a person shows up and reminds them. The kind that wishes to just be left in loneliness long enough for companionship to be forgotten altogether.

The ball will make him happy. He will destroy it within minutes, it will disappear after he does nothing but be himself.

(She does that sometimes too.)

First Round: Frederick Chase

Bet Type: Blind Faith; awarded via mass tradition.

Made with no experience.

Trust given without the knowledge that trust must be earned.

Annabeth is four years old and hungry.

She hasn’t eaten since dinner last night.

Dad is playing with his planes again. The fancy small piece ones that Annabeth is not allowed to touch, ‘not now, not ever.’ She’s not supposed to bother Dad when he plays with his planes.

Plane time is Dad’s very special ‘by himself’ time. He’d explained a while ago that he has lots of very hard work to do, and then he has to take care of her which is even more lots of hard work, and sometimes he needs his special ‘by himself’ time, because Annabeth is a big girl now who can read her books and not touch the sockets.

(She wonders why he doesn’t do his special ‘by himself’ time when she’s taking her naps. That way they could have their together time when she’s awake.)

This would be fine, but she just ate the last of her super secret dad-is-in-his-study snack stash that she hides under her bed last week.

She wants to go in and ask, but the last time she’d interrupted him, even though he smiled at her, his eyebrows got all scrunched up together. He was not happy to see her.

(Sometimes, she wonders if he ever is.)

Annabeth is really very hungry.

There are bananas on top of the fridge.

Annabeth creates a plan.

The plan goes south almost immediately and she ends up dangling from the top of the white mountain with glass and bananas all over the ground.

“Christ! Annabeth!” She is being yanked from her very small cliff and carried into the living room and Dad’s voice is very loud and his face is more than scrunched eyebrows and Annabeth is ashamed.

“What were you doing?”

“I was climbing on top of the fridge. I knocked over a vase.”

That was the wrong answer because somehow his face gets even angrier. “Yes, I can see that. What were you thinking?”

“I wanted a banana. They were on top of the fridge.”

He pinches his nose. That wasn’t the right answer either. “You just had breakfast.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. You had the fruit circles.”

“That was yesterday.”

He hesitates. “Okay, well you did wake up late, you couldn’t have waited until it was time to eat lunch?”

The clock on the microwave says 4:13 pm. “It is lunch.”

He looks at the clock. Closes his eyes. When he opens them, he still looks angry but not at her. His voice is much quieter. “Why didn’t you come get me?”

“Last time you got sad. You were in a groove, you said unless it was an emergency not to come in. I thought I could reach it.”

She watches his face change. His eyebrows are still scrunched up but his eyes get gentler and sadder all at once. He sits down on the couch and lifts her up into his lap. It’s been so long, she sits on his knees like he’s a chair. He turns her around in his arms.

“You’re such a quiet kid, Annabeth. Sometimes I forget you're here.”

She doesn’t think he said it to make her sad, but it does anyway. Which is irritating because she didn’t do anything wrong and she feels bad anyway.

“I was a quiet kid too.”

She doesn’t want to be quiet. She wants to scream. She wants to cry. She wants to hit him. She wants—

“I’m gonna clean up the glass and then we’ll have mac and cheese.”

She nods and lets herself be sat back on the couch.

Second Round: Ms. Helen (from Dad’s work)

Bet Type: Good Faith; awarded via proxy.

Made with no experience.

Trust given without the knowledge that trust must be earned.

The first time her father forgets to pick her up from daycare, she is too young to remember. She was also too young to remember the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th times.

She remembers the sixth.

Ms. Helen, dad’s work friend that has come to dinner every wednesday for four weeks, shows up at school wearing black yoga pants and a messy-on-purpose bun.

(The kind that always looks strange in the bathroom mirror when she tries it on her curls in the morning before they leave.)

She smiles at her teacher, tight and pinchy. She does that laugh/talk/sigh thing adults do when the words they're saying don’t really matter. And before Annabeth knows it, she's staring at the backseat of a minivan.

“What’s that?”

Ms. Helen raises an eyebrow. “The car seat?”

Annabeth nods but looks down. She said it like it was obvious. Annabeth knows obvious things.

“Don’t you sit in one of these to come to daycare?”

“No.”

“You just sit in the seat?”

“Yes.”

“You're too little. It’s not safe to sit by yourself.”

Annabeth doesn’t know what she's supposed to say. This happens a lot. Adults do this thing where they ask you a question that they want a specific answer to. Annabeth has developed a skill in which she can always tell when the truth is not what an adult wants to hear. It has, so far, been a pretty useless skill because she has yet to master the skill of knowing what it is that they actually want to hear.

(Sometimes, she figures it out and tells the truth anyway. Those times she doesn’t really mind getting in trouble after.)

“Your father must’ve put you in one of these.”

Annabeth shrugs. Her talent has deduced that Helen does not want Annabeth to say that she has never been in one of those, and figures nonverbal is the safest option because she would like to go home.

Helen crouches down and gets way up close to Annabeth's face. Her grown-up face-paint is smudged around the corner of her left eye. She smells like dish soap.

“I borrowed this from my friend when your father called, so we have to get you your own. From now on, you don’t get in a car without one of these. Understand?”

Annabeth nods.

Helen is looking at her with something strange and sad in her smudged up eye. She takes a deep breath.

Annabeth crawls into the backseat and waits to be tied in.

Fourth Round: Thalia Grace, Grover Underwood & Luke Castellan

Bet Type: Calculated Risk; awarded to an individual after carefully evaluated outcomes

Made after a great loss, in which perceived benefits outweigh potential detriment.

Trust earned after a win.

Thalia is frowning at her.

Annabeth hasn’t been with her and Luke for that long, but she knows that this is not cause for too much concern because she’s usually frowning.

Luke is the one with the smiles, and the cuddles, and the soft spot for the helpless strays—dogs and girls alike.

Thalia is the one with the frowns.

(Annabeth can tell she has a soft spot for Luke though.)

Before she can muster up the courage to ask, Luke beats her to it. “What’s up with you?”

“Her hair.” Thalia has a talent where she can frown and speak at the same time. Annabeth wants to learn how to do that.

Luke smiles at her before fixing his eyes on her puff. She gets that feeling in her stomach she used to get when her teachers asked her questions about her house, like she should be hiding behind her fathers legs.

(The last time she tried, Helen had snatched her arm and told her she was being rude.)

“Her hair.” He repeats in a way that tells both Annabeth and Thalia he has no idea what the problem is.

Thalia ignores him, and scribbles something down on his arm. “I saw a beauty supply store down the road. I need you to figure out a way to get this stuff.”

Luke frowns over her shoulder. (Uh-oh.) “That’s gonna be a bit of a stretch.”

“So stretch.”

“Thals—,”

She looks up at him and her eyes are all intense like when she’s fighting a monster. “They weren’t combing her hair. I took the hair tie off and it’s staying put. She’s only been on the run for 3 days.” Thalia looks back down at her. “Right? That’s how long you were by yourself?”

“Yes.” Annabeth nods. One of her favorite parts about being with Luke and Thalia, is that the truth is always enough.

Thalia looks back at Luke with something in her eyes that’s even softer than when Luke sleeps. “They weren’t combing her hair.”

Luke nods, a new kind of frown. The one he had when they found her. “On it.”

He winks at Annabeth and tweaks her nose which makes her laugh. Then he’s gone and it’s just the two of them.

Annabeth and Thalia have never been alone for that long before, except for bathroom trips and when Luke gets them snacks.

Annabeth knows it wasn’t Thalia’s idea for her to join the two of them. Annabeth doesn’t think she wanted to leave her there, but she knows Thalia liked it when it was just her and Luke.

She’s looking up at the sky muttering something angry in another language. “What’s Luke going to get?”

Thalia considers her for a moment and then sits down leaning against the brick alleyway. “Some hair stuff. Basics.”

“I thought we only took risks for food.”

Thalia smiles a little and it makes Annabeth's chest feel fuzzy.

“You’re a smart kid.” She pats the ground next to her and Annabeth goes to sit next to her.

“My mother…had a bad time. Things that aren’t supposed to be hard for mortals were very hard for her. And sometimes that made her not very nice to me.” She pauses and Annabeth waits patiently, doesn’t dare speak a word.

“She couldn’t really take care of herself. So, she couldn’t really take care of me either. My hair is curly like yours. And hair like ours needs special attention. When you don’t give it the care it needs, it gets stuck like this.” She takes Annabeth's hand and brings it up to her head, lets her tug on one strand gently.

“I like your hair a lot!”

“Thank you. I do too. But, it wasn’t my choice. My mother let my hair loc up so she didn’t have to comb it every day. You should get to decide whether you want your hair like this. Did you ask to have your hair up in a bun for that long?”

Annabeth could tell her how her Dad used to braid her hair on Sunday nights. How they would sit and listen to music and he would spray and comb and braid until she fell asleep on his leg. How when he and Helen got married, he suddenly had no time to do anything that Helen could do instead. How her slick, shiny, and smooth haired stepmother would wrinkle down at her curls, yank a brush through her head and tell her she was ‘impossible’.

But, she doesn’t. She looks down at her shoes and doesn’t say anything at all.

Thalia, even smaller than before, says, “Your parents weren’t very nice to you either. Were they?”

She doesn’t answer.

She doesn’t have to.

‘You’re such a quiet kid, Annabeth.’

(When Luke gets back, he and Thalia spend three hours spraying and combing and braiding until Annabeths hair isn’t stuck anymore.)

(In a few months, a satyr named Grover will take them to camp.

Thalia will not make it across the border.)

(Annabeth will refuse to let anyone touch her hair for a year.)

Final Round: Perseus Jackson

Bet Type: Wild Card; awarded to an individual that fails to qualify through conventional procedure.

Made with gut feelings, no logic, and excruciating human defiance.

Trust is given without measure.

Annabeth's first thought when she sees him for the first time is, “He must be the one.”

She’s sure of it. She says it out loud. Chiron tells her to hush, and she doesn’t even care.

He's the one.

She's not sure how she knows. She's waited for so long, seen so many campers. Many were far more promising than he is.

That's her second thought. He's skinnier than she thought ‘the one’ would be. Skinny and pale and more gangly limb than person.

He’s blinking up towards them but his eyes are unfocused and hazy. That's her third thought. He's fading. They’ll have to carry him.

‘Percy’ Chiron calls him. It’s a hero’s name.

She wonders if whoever gave it to him knew he’d be the one too.

‘He’s the one.’, she thinks again. It feels strange and tingly in her head.

Strange, but not false.

Hello, Percy Jackson. It's nice to finally meet you.

#SHEEEEEES BAAAACCCCKKKK!#it's been a while! i evolved and got a life and the show humbled me and took over my life.#for the percabeth induced insanity gc on twitter (love you)#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth fic #grover underwood #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo series #pjotv #pjo tv show #pjo tv series #pjo tv spoilers #luke castellan #thalia grace #frederick chase

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 4 months

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Fixing Gabriel's Writing via a Corruption Arc

Like it or not, Miraculous considers Gabriel Agreste to be a loving father. If he wasn't, then you wouldn't get things like the season five ending or this bit from Queen Wasp:

Gabriel: (guilt-ridden) I don't want to break our promise, but… I can't keep putting our son in danger. Style Queen was supposed to be my masterpiece… but even she failed. I feel like I've done all I possibly could, you know? I'll never be able to fulfill my wish without Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous. (Scene shows Emilie in her coffin) Forgive me, Emilie. I'm giving you up, Nooroo.

But this side of him only shows up in big dramatic moments. When it comes to his more general writing, he's a full out cartoon villain and terrible parent, which is why I've said there's a lot of valid ways to write him. His character is wildly inconsistent. This is a problem that is easily fixed via an actual corruption arc where he goes from somewhat decent parent to monster. There's a couple ways to do this, but here's how I'd do it in the context of keeping canon mostly intact:

Early seasons needed to make Gabriel come across as more openly grief stricken. Really highlight the fact that Emilie's death changed something major about him and his relationship with his son. This is one of the reasons I like a more nuanced Chloe. If you let her and Adrien be actual friends, then you can have her make statements to indicate that Adrien used to be quite close with both of his parents and that Gabriel used to be a good father. You can also have Adrien make statements like this to Plagg, I just like the Chloe angle more as she's more blunt while Adrien is more likely to hide his pain/focus on the positives.

Have Gabriel be unwilling to send akumas to areas where Adrien is. Episodes like Riposte should be impossible as Gabriel will be wholly unwilling to let akumas go after his son. This also lets you justify Adrien being locked up. As is, Gabriel just comes across like a jerk. If he's only banning Adrien from going out in order to keep his son safe? Well, he's still a jerk, but at the very least, he's a jerk who worries about his son's physical well being. Origins saw Adrien sneaking out of the house, so keep that element and make this be the reason he gets caught up in akuma attacks.

As time goes on, Gabriel gets more desperate and more willing to take risks. Lots of things could trigger this such as Ladybug always resetting everything, making him feel less concerned about hurting others. After all, he'll fix everything with his wish and, if he fails, then Ladybug will do it for him. There's really no way to lose here. Style Queen could become a turning point where Gabriel finally willingly put Adrien at risk and he feels awful, but make that also be the closest he's ever come. Have Gabriel decided that risking Adrien is worth the cost if it brings them back Emilie.

After that, things start to go downhill. Gabriel draws away from his son more and more due to guilt, but he's convinced he's in the right because he wants Emilie back so bad. The ends justify the means and all that. This can lead into several different types of endings, but the general feeling of Gabriel's final ending should have an element of pity. He's a villain, but he's a villain many could easily become.

This is the kind of path canon needed to walk if they wanted the season five ending to feel realistic. As is, it's going to read as total nonsense to most fans because they're going to go off of the way Gabriel was played in your standard, monster-of-the-week episode. They're not going to think about those core characterization episodes that were supposed to define Gabriel because those episodes are just too uncommon and too antithetical to the way Gabriel tended to be written.

#Gabriel Agreste deserves better #Gabriel deserves better #ml writing salt #ml writing critical #kept this high level just to get you thinking #to do this properly I'd have to just give you a fanfic link and let you make judgement on a final product instead of a high level pitch

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spicysix · 2 years

Text

crush crush crush | steddie X reader

eddie likes steve. he's not subtle about it. he's also brave about it, unlike you, and development: steve likes eddie back. you like both of them. well, ain't that just your fucking luck?

warnings: canon divergence, brief mention of homophobia/lgbtqphobia, polyamorous relationship, gn!reader (use of they/them pronouns), buckley!reader, fluff. and my already known absurd use of italics word count: 7.6k author's note: this one has been a long time coming! i started writing it so, so long ago, and it's finally ready! i really hope you enjoy it, and if you do, don't forget to reblog! comments are always appreciated as well ♡

↳ ao3

Eddie was not very subtle.

Well, you actually weren’t sure he was even trying to be subtle, but, if he was trying, it was definitely not working.

Not with all the stolen glances, and the closeness and proximity every chance he could get. Not with all the pet names, and the cat calls, and with the ‘getting nervous and panting and kind of sweaty’ every time he saw more skin than just arms - like a little stomach when a shirt lifted, or a neck when a head was thrown back in frustration.

And you got it. You could definitely understand the appeal. Steve was very handsome.

When he took off his shirt to dive into Lovers Lake to find a portal, while Eddie lit up a cigarette you looked away because you saw the way Robin glanced suspiciously at Nancy - honestly, Robin was the only one not appealed by Steve's lack of shirt - and you did not want that kind of glance being thrown at you too. And after Steve was bitted by those fucking demobats, you saw it in Eddie’s eyes how he wished it was him bandaging Steve up instead of Nancy - and you also kinda wished it was yourself. He got way too serious about throwing his vest at Steve ‘for his modesty’ too.

And when Eddie called Steve ‘big boy’, Harrington was not the only one who got flustered, because suddenly your head was filled with many images that were not appropriate for the running-from-the-cops-and-also-from-a-interdimensional-monster situation you were all in. Eddie seemed so proud for making Steve lose his words. You just stood in the back of the RV and tried to ground yourself instead of giving into the little green feeling growing inside your chest when Nancy sat at the seat beside Steve while he drove. You heard them talking about kids, for fucks sake.

And when Steve looked so worried about Nance, did everything he could to wake her from her trance, even started singing a song he thought she liked, and was later so focused on listening to her plan. When he gave you a tight hug right before he left with the girls to the Creel house, you almost melted into a puddle. Then he looked so worried about Eddie, asked him to not play the hero when the actual plan was about to start, you could understand if Eddie's heart skipped a beat because yours definitively did - and you were sure the metalhead wanted to say something else when he called out for Steve, but he settled for ‘make him pay’ instead.

And you actually thought it was a one-sided thing, but when Eddie woke up weeks later in a hospital bed, in a different state, after literally almost dying in your and Dustin’s arms; you, Dustin, and Steve were there to see him wake up, the huge smile plastered on Steve's face was enough to light up the whole room and Eddie's own smile reciprocated. And you looked at Dustin feeling like you were interrupting something. And they shared a hug, and Steve was cautious not to hurt Eddie's tummy filled with bandages and stitches. And you and Dustin said you were going to grab a coffee, and when you came back they looked a little pinker in the cheeks than they were before and their hairs were all out of place - Steve’s hair was never out of place.

So, yeah, you could understand Eddie's crush on Steve. With his brown soft hair, all prepped up with too much Farrah Fawcett hairspray (Dustin couldn’t keep a secret for his life), always smelling so good. And his caramel soft eyes, worried about everything and everyone around him but himself. And his preppy, stupid polo shirts and jeans combo, always ironed - you were pretty sure he ironed them himself. The freckles that went all the way from his neck down his torso and his back, splattered in such pretty patterns you kinda wanted to connect them like dots in a kid’s play. With your tongue, to be more precise.

But! YOU, specifically, did NOT have a crush on Steve. You just understood why Eddie did.

When all dust had settled and you were able to go back to Hawkins - thank god for Hopper coming back from the dead and giving Eddie all the alibis he needed, and thank god for their FBI friends for covering everything up as they did with the mall situation the year prior - Steve was very eager to have Eddie staying at his place while the metalhead (and his uncle, of course) searched for a new home. Because his trailer was destroyed, of course. And he was still recovering from all the injuries, of course!

Steve was very smart when he needed to be.

Not everyone in Hawkins was entirely convinced of the whole made-up story, and some people were still very rude to Eddie and the Hellfire boys on the streets, but Hopper was definitely more respected than Powell. So no matter what some people thought, the truth installed was that Eddie was innocent after all. Everyone just had to accept that.

After a while, as life went back to normal - as normal as it can be when you’ve saved the world more than once and half the town was under restoration because of an ‘earthquake’ - you started noticing how the boys were always together. Like when you’d pass by Family Video to see Robin (to see Robin, okay!) and Eddie was also there, leaning on the counter with a soft smile as Steve registered someone else’s borrowed tapes.

Or when you’d go downtown and see them together sharing a banana boat on the new Scoops Ahoy franchise that opened up again on Main Street. Or when you’d volunteer with Robin and Vickie to help those whose houses were destroyed and both boys were also already there, following each other around on their assigned tasks. Or when you went to parties or threw your own parties and they always came in together, never left each other’s side, and went back home together too, always just the two of them.

One day you went to Eddie’s work at the music store and Steve came in behind him as he stepped out of the ‘employees only’ door.

I mean, there’s only so much someone who’s not an employee can be doing with an employee inside a ‘employees only’ room. We all know that.

“Hey, guys,” you greeted, faking obliviousness as you went straight to the New Wave session that was slowly growing as more bands went famous across the country - famous enough to reach Middle Of Butt-Fuck Nowhere, Indiana.

“Oh, hey babe!” Eddie smiled as he came to your side. “What can I help you with today?”

You pretended not to shiver with the nickname. “Well, aren’t you employee of the month,” you mocked, looking at Steve (still behind Eddie) from the peripheral, whose cheeks just went pink. “Do you have New Order’s latest?”

“Oh, I think I saw it back there!” both yours and Eddie’s heads turned to Steve as he enthusiastically revealed, and if you thought he was pink before, he had just created a new shade of pink just then.

“I’ll go get it for ya,” Eddie gave you a smile trapped between real and fake and left for the infamous ‘employees only’ back room.

You smiled at Steve, your own smile trapped between soothing and teasing, and turned your attention back to the vinyls in front of you. A few moments passed in silence before he decided to talk again.

“You’re going to Robin’s this weekend?” you looked him straight in the eyes after his question. He could not be serious.

His prolonged silence made it clear that he was serious.

“You do realize it’s my house too?” you asked.

“Oh Jesus fuck, yeah, no, of course!” he waved around and you couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I know, you’re siblings and all, I keep forgetting that, ‘cause you’re nothing alike, of course it’s your house, it’s just, I was wondering maybe you had, like, another commitment, maybe a date, I dunno, can’t hurt to ask right!” he was babbling.

God, he was so cute.

No, scratch that. Forget it, you’ve never said that. Forget it right now!

“No plans at all this Saturday except to hang out with you nerds. Don’t worry,” you winked at him and he let out a sigh as he smiled.

Eddie came back from the inventory room, New Order’s ‘Brotherhood’ in his hands and that typical huge smile on his lips. “There you go, babe.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and paid for the vinyl before leaving, waving at them through the huge glass windows of the storefront. They waved back just before you saw them running to the ‘employees only’ room again.

Guess they were in their honeymoon phase.

You were completely fine and not envious at all.

-x-x-x-

Saturday arrived, and as you were serving soda to the kids playing board games on the coffee table in the living room, Steve and Eddie walked in knowing there was no need to knock. You walked past them as you went back to the kitchen to fetch some chips.

“There you are!” Eddie sounded excited, a six-pack in one of his hands while he pulled you in for a tight hug with the other one.

You smiled. “Where else would I be, doofus? Hey, dingus.” You waved at Steve through the cloud of Eddie’s frizz.

The boys followed you into the kitchen to put their stuff in the fridge. Nancy and Jonathan were intertwined leaning on the island and only let go of each other to say hello to the newcomers as you poured potato chips onto a big bowl and went back to the living room. Everyone else came back with their drinks in hand, including Robin and Vickie who were in the garden for some reason, and chatter began.

This was something you tried to do at least once a month, reunite with everyone including the kids - especially since Hopper and Joyce joined forces and decided to stay in Hawkins, god knows why but you were grateful for it.

That month the reunion was set on your and Robin’s house, your parents finding it weird that their adult offspring were friends with so many high schoolers when you explained that what you were having was not a party, but a friendly get-together. They let you host it anyway, even with the weirdness of it all, when you promised to clean the whole house - not just the living area where you’d all be at - afterward. And they went for a date that night, to give you the full house - very nice of them, and good for them, you guessed?

Everyone had been busier, with the younglings busy with high school and the young adults attempting at adulting, but you all felt the need to check in on each other every once in a while, and just hang out together in peace instead of trying to fight bullies, or Russians, or interdimensional assholes. Shared trauma was a great bonding experience!

A few hours later you, Mike, and Erica were fighting to decide which movie you were all going to watch when Steve and Eddie came back from the kitchen with a chocolate pie they had brought and several plates and forks. Eddie cleared his throat loudly and the room went quiet, looking at them.

“I, uh, we wanted to share something…” Eddie said as Steve put everything on the coffee table. You adjusted yourself in the bean bag you were lying on. “Me and Harrington, we, uh. It’s just, like. I don’t know, I don’t think you’ll be mad or anything. I mean, it’s not like it’ll be a first-time thing, I know you’re all cool with it, considering Robin and Vickie, it’s just. Uh.”

“We’re dating,” Steve went right to the point.

There was a loud silence for at least one whole minute before Dustin spoke up.

“Okay, and the actual news is?”

Eddie and Steve blinked at the same time.

“What,” was more of a deadpan than a question out of Harrington’s lips.

“You really thought we were all this dumb?” Lucas asked gesturing around to point at everyone in the room. Everyone was nodding along.

“Neither of you is subtle. Like, at all,” Max wasn’t even looking at them anymore, sharing a She-Hulk comic with El.

You couldn’t hold your laugh any longer and saw the unexpected couple looking at you immediately. “You knew too?” Eddie sounded really offended for some reason.

You laughed louder, almost falling out from the bean bag. “Are you not listening? Everyone knew! I went by your work this week and you came out of the back room together! Your clothes were all crumpled,” you pointed at Eddie and heard everyone giggling along.

“And we saw you coming out of a dressing room in that fancy store Steve likes. Also together,” Mike pointed at him and Will, who nodded enthusiastically, a shy smile growing on his lips.

“Eddie’s not even trying not to flirt with you in front of our other clients anymore,” Robin stated.

“You were licking on the same popsicle when we went to the lake the other day. At the same time,” Nancy pointed out.

“Nothing serving as a barrier between your tongues besides a very thin strawberry popsicle,” Jonathan concluded with a smirk.

Both boys looked actually astonished as if they were so sure they were hiding something. They looked at each other again before sighing and sitting down in the only tiny space left on the couch, Steve almost in Eddie’s lap. You turned your eyes away.

“So is this our celebratory pie? For our fist man-on-man couple of the group?” you asked, already diving in to get your piece. “Here’s to many more to come!” Mike choked on thin air, you pretended not to notice.

The conversation was easily shifted back to the movie discussion, the couple ‘news’ soon forgotten as you all settled back into your domestic routine, pies in hands, beers and sodas being shared (age appropriately!), and screaming about terror versus action. Again.

-x-x-x-

Robin had called your work in the middle of your (and hers) shift to invite you to come with her, Steve, and Eddie to the movies after all of your duties were over. You’ve said yes and thanked the gods you always took a change of clothes with you to work so you wouldn’t have to show up to the theater in your ugly uniform.

Not that there would be anyone there you wanted to impress. Of course not.

As you arrived, the boys were already there, but your sister was nowhere to be seen. “She’s in the bathroom or something?” you asked. They shared a glance.

“I thought you’d talked to her?” Steve questioned. You raised an eyebrow. “She wasn’t feeling so good, so she went home. Said she’s sorry.”

“Something about diarrhea,” Eddie grimaced and you sighed.

“Great, love being the third wheel,” you murmured under your breath. “You wanna go do this by yourselves? We can reschedule. Invite Jon and Nancy next time too.”

“No, we wanna go with you!” Steve stated quickly and Eddie coughed loudly. “We promise not to go overboard, okay? We’ll put you in the middle seat.”

“Also, not everyone in Hawkins is nice. Mostly no one, to be honest. So we’re not adept to PDA anyways,” Eddie concluded, shrugging. “Basically no one knows we’re dating except for you, our friends,” his voice was in a very low tone, almost whispered, to not draw attention.

You empathized, also keeping your voice low. “Yeah, that sucks. Robin and Vickie are always complaining about it, and they’re also not openly affectionate to each other in public places. And honestly, I’m really scared for them sometimes. I know Robs can stand up for herself and Vickie, but they’re also so tiny. Little babies,” you brought your thumb and index finger together, showing how really smol your younger sister and her girlfriend were. “And people are mean.”

“What’re some bigots in comparison to a real-life D&D monster, babe? Don’t worry,” Eddie put his arms around your shoulder, Steve on your other side, guiding you to the ticket booth.

Eddie paid for the tickets - something about a fly, yeah, the bug - and both you and Steve fought for the right to buy the popcorn, but while you were bickering Eddie went and bought those himself too. As you finally went to the screening room and took your seats, Steve was serious about you being in the middle. Eddie went to the bathroom while the trailers didn’t start.

“So that’s what he’s like as a boyfriend? Doesn’t let you buy stuff?” you curiously asked Steve while shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth. You kept your voice low again so no one would easily hear you talking.

He smiled dreamily. “Yeah, especially since he’s been getting ‘clean money’, as he calls it, with his ‘grown up’ job.” He made quote marks with his fingers. “He’s a really thoughtful guy. I mean, that was already obvious before, but as a partner… it’s different, you know?” you nodded and asked him to continue. He was getting flustered, talking about the boy he liked made him look so cute… You just had to. It was all you would ever get from him, anyway. “He’s very affectionate, as you could guess. He has to always be touching me in some way. I thought I would get annoyed at some point, but it still hasn’t happened and, honestly, I don’t think it will. I like touching him at all times, too.

“He also likes to do everything together, even silly minor tasks like getting groceries or something. Gets me little gifts almost every day, and not always stuff he buys, but things he sees that remind him of me. Flowers that he steals from other people’s gardens, he once bought me a heart-shaped pebble. It’s so stupid,” he giggled.

Giggled!

“And I love it. He’s so kind. People treat him like shit most of the time, and he’s still always as polite as he can. Only fights back the really aggressive ones. Kids are scared of him because of their parents’ closed minds, but he approaches them and tells them not to fear, and plays stupid magic tricks to get them to like him. Helps old ladies cross the streets and shit. He’s probably the best person I know,” he was rambling. Your heart was so full. “And I had no idea, you know. That I could feel like this for another guy. Eddie calls himself my bi awakening,” you both shared a laugh.

“You deserve it, Steve. After Nancy…” you gulped lightly, and so did he. “I didn’t think you would ever get over her. And she wasn’t able to give you the love you deserved, not her fault obviously, but still true. It wasn’t meant to be between you two. But you and Eds really fit together. Pieces of a puzzle, Dingus and Doofus. You give each other the love you don’t give yourselves with those annoying low self-esteem of yours,” you nudged him with your shoulder and he looked down to laugh, but you saw his eyes watering.

After a while, he looked up. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. I’m really, really happy.”

His smile was really brighter, and his eyes sparkled more. He looked lighter as if part of the huge hero weight he carried on his shoulders had been lifted. You could imagine that the fact that your lives not being in constant danger helped, but love… Love gets you through anything. And you were really, really happy too - for them.

When Eddie came back from the bathroom, bowing for a girl to walk in front of him to her seat, the trailers were already starting. And the bright light from the screen enveloped him in a kind of aura, and his hair looked so fluffy, and his Motorhead shirt sleeves were rolled up to his shoulders, his arms covered in tattoos for show. His shredded jeans, and his chain belt, and his funny wonky walk, and the way he fiddled with his rings. He threw himself at the sit beside you, his arm instantly coming to the rest of your chair behind you while the other reached for the popcorn bowl on your lap, his huge trademarked smile plastered on his face and his beautiful calf eyes looking into yours. You gulped. Something inside your belly swirled.

“Ready for the film, babe?”

Your heart almost leaped out of your chest as you nodded and smiled back at him.

Shit.

You had a crush on Steve.

And you had a crush on his boyfriend.

You were so very screwed.

They gave you a ride home, even though your house was way off their own route, and made you sit between them in Eddie’s van too. Steve’s arm was around you and Eddie’s hand occasionally touched your arm or knee and they let you choose the songs - even though none of you shared musical taste by any means - while you commented on the movie. They even got off the van to give you hugs when you arrived home.

And although you had one of the best afternoons ever, you were also mentally exhausted.

Apparently, finding out you had crushes on two people who were dating each other and then spending your whole day trying not to make heart eyes at their every move was very draining.

Robin was in the living room, a random rom-com on the TV that she and Vickie were pretending to watch, while they were actually attached to each other’s mouths. They let go when they heard the door closing behind you though. Your parents were still not home from their jobs.

“Hey, how was the movie?” your sister asked excitedly. You raised an eyebrow.

“The movie was fun,” not that you had paid a lot of attention. “The being a third wheel part, not so much,” you got closer to them and messed up Robin’s hair. “I actually realized I have a massive crush on both of them and kinda wanna throw myself off a cliff right about now.”

You and your sister had absolutely no secrets between you (that’s how you ended up with her, Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, a random middle-school nerd and a very sassy ten-year-old trying to break into a secret Russian base under the town mall Summer of ‘85). So it was a no-brainer that you were gonna tell her about your crushes. And you knew she was gonna tell Vickie anyway, so you just said it with her there and then.

Vickie’s eyes widened with your confession, but Robin didn’t seem to bother. “Yeah, honestly, I had that figured out. I know you too well, ya’ know. Can’t hide shit from me anymore. I’m glad you uncovered your truth, though.”

“Fair,” you shrugged. “You look good for someone with diarrhea, by the way,” at that, she did look guilty about, while Vickie laughed loudly, but you wasted no more time before heading to the bathroom.

You needed a long, calming bubble bath to realign your chakras and rest your stupid, stupid little head.

Later that night, contradicting your expectations Vickie went back to her house, and Robin knocked on your door with a PB&J sandwich for you that she left on your nightstand. You were already under the covers, your head buzzing with so many thoughts and feelings that you were no closer to understanding. And apparently, your sister knew that. She laid down beside you, both of you on your sides facing each other.

“How you feeling?” she asked, basically whispering.

You whispered back: “Like shit. I dunno what to do.”

“Do you wanna do something about it?” her hand found yours under the covers.

“I don’t think there is something to be done about it, Robs. They’re dating.”

You both went quiet for a few minutes. You were trying not to cry, but your sister’s caresses on your palm and the warmth of the blankets around you were making it very hard.

“I really thought Steve liked you, you know?”

“What?”

Robin smiled sweetly at you. “Yeah, he would constantly bring you up on random conversations at work. Wanted to include you in every plan we made,” she paused just for a minute. “But, in hindsight… he did that with Eddie too.”

“Well, Eddie reciprocated him faster. And made his move, so there’s nothing I can do about it now. And I’m happy for them, I really am. They look - they are! So happy together. This,” you gesticulated around yourself, “just some goddamn sour grapes. It’ll pass.”

“Yeah, it will,” she got closer to you and hugged you, and you finally let your tears drop.

“Might take some time. Might take some distance,” you sniffled. “But it’ll pass.”

-x-x-x-

You were serious about the distance.

So you tried to steer clear of Family Video, except on days you knew Steve didn’t have shifts on. You thanked every god and the universe that none of the bands you liked released anything so you wouldn’t have to go to Eddie’s work to buy new vinyls or tapes. You’d see them on the streets and take a detour, a longer route home, walked into stores so they wouldn’t see you back.

Robin noticed, of course, she knew you like the palm of her own hand, but she didn’t comment on it. She would invite you to movie sessions with her and Vickie and would hold herself so they wouldn’t be too touchy and accidentally make you feel bad. Not that you would actually care. It wasn’t them you were in love with, your bitterness was not that big.

You even tried to go on dates of your own, tried to force the crushes out of your system. People who’d ask for your number at work, one of your coworkers, even someone that started a conversation about mayonnaise on the market aisle once. But none of them were nice enough, or funny enough, or sweet enough, or snarky enough, or caring enough, or Steve enough, or Eddie enough.

You felt like the biggest idiot in the County.

You couldn’t hide from them forever, though. You couldn’t hide from them at your monthly get-together. Especially when it was being held at the Munsons’ new apartment - mostly financed by government hush money.

And you were avoiding Steve, Robin - his other soulmate - wasn’t. Therefore, it wasn’t a huge surprise when he pulled up on your driveway to give you and your sister a ride to his boyfriend’s house that night. You tried your best not to act like an asshole, but as you sat in the backseat you knew you were quieter than normal. You could feel Steve’s eyes on you through the rearview mirror at every stop at a red light. He didn’t ask, though. He just kept listening to your sister’s rambles.

But, after he rang the intercom and Eddie opened the gateway and Robin ran up the stairs, you tried to follow her but Steve stopped you with a weak tug on your arm. You turned to him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his hazel eyes filled with worry. You softened.

“I’m good Stevie, can’t wait to see Eddie’s apartment, shall we?” you tried to get past the conversation, but he didn’t let go of your arm.

“You know you can talk to me if something’s wrong, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Seriously, don’t worry. Let’s go, Eddie must be wondering where we are already,” you pulled your arm with strength enough to be released from his grip and went up the stairs without waiting for an answer. You heard him sigh, though.

When you reached Eddie’s floor, he was standing in the doorway. “There you are! For a second I thought you’d bail on me, babe,” he said, and if you had ever heard him call Steve babe you could swear he was talking to his boyfriend. But he only ever called you babe.

He pulled you in for a hug, and you squeezed your eyes shut at the smell of his cologne, the way his hair tickled your nose, the way his cold rings felt against your warm skin, and how he was tracing circles with his thumb on your shoulder.

This was way too hard.

You gently pushed him away, ending the hug faster than you really wanted it to end, and looked at his face. “Give me the tour, will you?”

He grinned widely at you, but you didn’t miss the questioning look he threw Steve behind you before he turned and started showing you the apartment. Dustin, Max, and the Sinclairs were already there - Steve picked them up before he did it with Robin and you.

It wasn’t a huge apartment, but it was enough for Eddie and Wayne. They had a fairly big living/dining room, separate from the kitchen, and two bedrooms now. Eddie’s room was already filled with posters on its walls and ceiling, the usual mess the boy used to make already scattered on the floor. Sweetheart had her special spot on the wall too, looking as beautiful as ever.

As you went back to the living room, complimenting and congratulating Eddie on the house, Nancy arrived with Mike and the Byers siblings. As a heartwarming gift, you had all agreed to participate in a campaign that day, even Steve, Max, and Nancy went for it - after lots of bribery, but still. You had always been curious about it, so it didn’t take much to convince you too.

So you all gathered around the dining room, pulled out your character sheets - the kids helped you create your own characters along the month - and settled for what you knew were hours of adventure. And some (a lot of) bickering.

The one-shot campaign was a success. Eddie was a great DM - not that you knew a lot about that, but it felt like he was a great DM. He said he had some insights from Will, who looked very proud of the help he provided. Everyone seemed to have a good time, even Nancy, Steve, and Max who reluctantly smiled their way through the campaign. Dustin had a blast that his favorite humans were together and enjoying the same things at the same time. Your characters saved the day in the end and it felt rewarding.

Mr. Sinclair had passed by and taken both his kids, plus Dustin and Max, home. Vicky was on her way there to get Robin and you. Nancy and Jonathan, in the living room talking to El, were waiting for their brothers, who were in Eddie’s room talking to both him and Steve.

As you were coming back from the bathroom, you couldn’t help but listen to the conversation.

“…so yeah, Will, it’s absolutely okay to like boys,” Eddie’s voice wasn’t loud, but you were just by the door so it was clear enough for you to hear.

“And how did you know you liked both?” Mike asked.

Steve cleared his throat and before you could pry even longer into their conversation, you passed by to the living room, sitting beside your sister on the couch, arms crossed.

“Okay?” Robin asked, and you nodded. El looked at you in that curious stare she had, and Nancy pretended not to notice. Jonathan was staring at the wall. Probably high out of his mind, and missing Argyle.

You poked on your cuticles until the LGBT lecture for the baby gays was over, and the four boys walked out of Eddie’s room. You smiled as sweetly as you could at Will and Mike - Will smiled back, but Mike seemed kinda shocked and so his smile was more of a grimace. Poor boy needed time to settle into his self-discovery, apparently.

“Shall we?” Nance asked and El and Jon got up from where they were sitting on the floor. They all said their goodbyes to Steve and Eddie before getting out.

A few minutes passed by in awkward silence, you and Robin sitting on the couch, the boys standing up in the middle of the living room, no sign of Vickie. You could see your sister and Steve having a weird telekinetic conversation, you knew he was the other third of her soul, and was already fearing for your life because your sister was known to make stupid-ass decisions.

“I’m gonna take a wee!” aaand there she goes.

She got up way too fast and you couldn’t hold her arm to force her to stay, and so you saw yourself alone with. The boys you liked. It was like your body was preparing itself to ignite into explosive inside-out combustion, a mantra rolling in your head repeatedly ‘calm the fuck down, breathe in-breath out, calm the fuck down!’, not helping very much but you still tried.

Eyes closed, you felt the couch sinking as they both sat beside you. You took a glance and Steve was directly to your right, Eddie beside him, both of them sharing another silent conversation before Steve turned back to you.

“So-” your attempt at cutting the ice was cut out.

“I like you,” Steve blurted. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

“Steve, what the fuck, Eddie’s sitting right there,” you discreetly pointed at the other boy, your voice somehow caught between a yell and a whisper. Eddie wiggled his fingers at you.

“Yeah, he’s part of the conversation?” Steve answered, sort of asked, and you couldn’t be more confused.

“What.”

“We both like you,” Eddie joined, scooting closer to Steve, making Steve scoot closer to you, making you scoot a little backward.

What the fuck was going on.

“You. Both? Like me?” they just eagerly nodded. “Well, that’s fucking weird. Like, not normal. At all.”

“Is it, though?” Steve asked, no malice in his voice, eyes full of affection. “You like the both of us. Is that weird?”

“WHAT-how-what-no?! What! ROBIN?” your eyes went straight to the little corridor leading to the bathroom where your apparently betrayer of a sister was, and you could swear you heard some thumping coming from that direction.

Steve stretched out his arms, ready to touch you before he gave up. You couldn’t decide if you felt grateful or sorrowful. “No, your sister didn’t betray you. She didn’t have to tell me, I can tell when people like me.”

“You couldn’t tell with me,” Eddie pitched in, and you suddenly remembered he was there. Quieter, probably for the first time in his life. Why was he so quiet?

Steve rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s remark. “Yeah, okay, I said people, not big ass confusing nerds.”

“Are you telling me they’re not big ass nerd?” Eddie pointed at you, but you were still in too much shock to even process what he was saying.

Steve looked at you again, his eyes going back to that affection you saw before, and he called your name sweetly, and you had absolutely no idea what that conversation was and what you were supposed to tell them because, yeah, you liked them, but what? They liked you? And what the hell were you all supposed to do with that?

You didn’t have to answer, though, because Robin got out of the bathroom and Wayne walked in through the front door, and Steve and Eddie scooted backward again, and you got up faster than your sister did with her ‘wee’ whatever.

“Robin let’s fucking go goodnight mister Munson nice to see ya bye boys what the fuck!” you didn’t stop to hear any of their answers, nor for Robin to catch up to you, nor to take a fucking breath, and just bolted down the stairs.

You had a lot of thinking to do that night, wrangled up in your sheets, a PB&J sandwich by your nightstand, Robin probably cuddled up to you.

What the fuck.

-x-x-x-

Two whole weeks passed by.

You continued on your ‘avoid them at any costs’ plan, even though Robin was all up in your ass bugging you to talk to them, even though you told her you didn’t know what to say, even though she practically gave you a scripted speech, even though she tried to convince you it couldn’t go wrong, even though she was most probably right, even though she kept saying Steve and Eddie were in sour moods, even though you felt like shit for making them sour. Because you still had no idea what to say.

But you were also in a sour mood, because you missed them, and because you didn’t understand but you wanted to understand, and because your crush was probably more than a crush, and you really wanted to see where all of this could go even though you have never heard or seen anything like this. Deep down in the confusing fortresses of your heart, you were willing to be a pioneer on that matter. Even if you very likely wouldn’t pioneer shit.

And so when your feet automatically walked six blocks from your work to Family Video on a random Tuesday after your shift, and your heart unclenched a little bit when you saw both Steve’s bimmer and Eddie’s van - and no sign of Robin’s bike -, and when you walked in and saw it with our very own two eyes that even though they were clearly happy to be around each other - Eddie bugging Steve in his closing shift - it felt like something was missing there, and you desperately clung to the idea that what was missing was you.

“How’d you talked about this?” you asked, their heads turning to the sound of your voice, Steve instantly letting go of the broom he was swiping the floor with, Eddie instantly standing up from where he was all slouched over the counter.

“This… what?” Steve asked, his eyes avoiding yours for a second to look outside from the glass doors. You turned around and switched the plate from ‘open’ to ‘closed’. Fuck Keith if he complained Steve closed half an hour earlier.

“This. You liking me. How did you get to that subject, and then decided to bring it up with me?” you pointedly looked at Eddie. He was way too quiet last time. You needed to hear him saying.

He apparently understood you just fine, “I brought it up. Even before we agreed we were each other’s boyfriends, I asked Steve something similar, how did he know he liked me, and he told me how confused he was because he liked both me and you,” he said.

You gulped and tried not to deflate.

“And Eddie said, quote-unquote, ‘fuck yeah they’re the best, I really think I like them too’. And we didn’t do much about it, because we didn’t think there was anything to be done, and soon we were serious about each other. Until Eddie took us to a gay bar he used to go to in Indy,” you think you remembered Robin talking about this to Vickie someday, their plans on going too.

“And we talked to some of the people I knew from other times, and we ended up talking about you a few drinks down, and. Apparently, there are people who date more than one person. And it’s okay,” Eddie shrugged as if it was nothing, a shy smile on his lips, and you hadn’t noticed but you were all a few steps closer to each other. Steve’s broom forgotten on the floor, both of the boys’ eyes on you, adoringly, sweet as fucking candy, a whole conversation they had about you with strangers at a gay bar in Indianapolis.

“I need to sit down.”

Steve brought you a cup of water, and Eddie was sitting beside you on the ‘employees only’ room couch in the back of Family Video. Fucking ‘employees only’ back room. Eddie wasn’t sitting too close, but he wasn’t far, and that was comforting.

You gulped down the water in practically one go and settled the cup on the side table. Scooted a little closer to Eddie, patted down on your other side, Steve followed your command and sat down too. You couldn’t look at them, though, not yet.

“You did your research”, your voice was quieter than you wished.

There goes being a pioneer, you guess.

“We weren’t even looking for it, the information just literally landed on our laps,” Steve said.

“We were just rambling on and on about the person we both like. A lot,” Eddie smirked, but there was no real danger in his smile, never was. Your shoulders decompressed a little, and it was like they were both waiting for that to scoot a bit closer. Eddie’s hands just beside your thigh, Steve’s arm draping behind you on the couch.

A few minutes passed by, your mind a whole mess of a race, but they waited patiently for your next question. “How would that even work?”

“Like any other relationship. Except it’s three of us instead of two. And we can have dates, no one will know it’s a date besides us, it’s what Eddie and I already do, people think we’re just two guys being bros. We will look like three friends hanging out, but we will know.”

“And we can sit next to each other and hold hands, hidden under the diner table, we can have a whole schedule,” Eddie joked, you chuckled, and he held your hand. You let him. Squeezed his fingers with your own. “And sometimes we can go to Indy and we don’t have to hide there.”

“Or we can have home dates, and Eddie can cook, and I can bake, and you can just sit there and look pretty as you do,” Steve’s fingers grazed on the nape of your neck. You got goosebumps.

“Are you saying I can’t cook?”

“Well, last time your lasagna was not that good-” you let go of Eddie’s hand to swat at his thigh, and he laughed out loud. “Just kidding, babe, it’s just cause we wanna treat ya,” you quickly held his hand back.

“You know how Eddie likes to treat the ones he cares about,” Steve said, and you remembered your conversation at the movie, that day.

“Did you plan that movie? When Robbie had ‘diarrhea’?” Steve’s cheeks turned instantly pink, and you and Eddie both snickered at that.

“Stevie might have begged your sister to leave,” there was so much fondness in Eddie’s voice, and you noticed just then, how much fondness was in the voice he used to talk to you, too. “You make him nervous, you see.”

Steve’s ramblings made more sense.

“You make him nervous too, he’s just the weird kind of nervous,” Steve remarked, and now Eddie’s quietness the other day made more sense too.

God, you had been oblivious.

“And we can make this work? You really think we can make this work?” you asked, still unsure. Okay, you weren’t a pioneer, but you still had never heard of this before.

“We can totally make this work, babe. I swear to you is not as complicated as it seems. Is just-” he interrupted himself, thought for a second, his eyes staring intensely into yours, vulnerable, a little pleading, decided to go with it: “Well, it can be just love.”

Eddie’s words echoed in your head for what felt like a long time. Not a fucking crush, oh no. You knew them too well for that. You knew yourself too well for that. All of the fear washed in a wave out of you, and you sighed a happy sigh.

Just love.

Felt right.

“Feels right,” you said, feeling Steve’s forehead thumping on your shoulder, his fingers getting lost in your hair, he was closer than before.

Eddie was closer than before, you looked at him, his nose touching yours, his breath tickling your skin, suddenly his lips on yours, and your whole body collapsed into him, your fingers still tightly holding onto his, your free hand searching behind you for Steve’s hand, Eddie’s free hand in your face, cradling your jaw, so gentle, his lips so soft even though you knew he had a habit of picking on the skin there, but he was so soft, so soft, so soft.

Steve’s lips were on your neck, and suddenly you switched it up, let go of Eddie’s lips, turned your head, now Eddie’s lips on your neck, your lips on Steve’s, he was soft, you knew he liked Chopstick, he was real soft, but his fingers on your neck, tugging on your hair, his hands on yours, he was a bit frantic, not as slow, not as gentle, just as sweet, sweet as fucking candy, and you were going into a sugar-coma, head spinning, breath caught, couldn’t wait to do this over, and over, and over, and hiding in a diner, and in a gay club in Indy, and in your house, and their house, in their beds, or your couch, and over and over and over again, dizzy with all the expectations because you felt it, right through those kisses: you could make this work.

You would make this work.

It was working already.

#steddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steddie x reader fluff #lui writes

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raycatzdraws · 7 months

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I'm gonna put this here and then probably make it private but I want to say

There's discussion happening in the LU fandom so if you don't care for that scroll on:

But, I love creating with the LU fandom. I don't create in a void. My work is a conversation. I hope that it inspires you to create, to think, to chat with friends! Thank you to everyone who's shared their art and let me be a part of it, and to everyone who's played a part in mine!

to copy paste something I've said on my main:

isn’t it interesting that there’s Jojo’s LinkedUniverse and then also the LinkedUniverse fandom’s LinkedUniverse? That LU became a conduit through which to examine and compare and contrast Zelda games with this cast of characters as a base? That was their original intention and the fans went “heck yeah!” and ran with it? The LinkedUniverse fandom’s LinkedUniverse is a monster of the week story where everyone contributes, it has hundreds of authors and storytellers all working together and trading tales. It’s a scenario in which Jojo’s LinkedUniverse is both the source material and also just one instance in the larger weave. And the LinkedUniverse fandom’s LinkedUniverse lore deviates from (and is much deeper than imo) that of the original comic mainly because of that 1 person building a thing vs hundreds of people building a thing. And isn’t that so cool? But then also with the decline of the fandom I dunno I feel like the LinkedUniverse fandom’s LinkedUniverse has been dying. Updates would spawn a burst of creativity and multitudes of branching ideas and what-if scenarios explored through art and fic and discussion, building on it, adding it in to pre-existing stories. I feel that activity around updates has been ticking more towards exploring the comic within the context of the comic itself (or just reposting clips), and less within the fandom’s takes on it (not taking that step forward of “yes, and,” and “yes-anding” fanworks as well.) Or not updates in particular, but the state of the fandom is deviating from taking this base and running and sharing to something more controlled and wary? Isolated? The LinkedUniverse fandom is a phenomenon to me. And it’s not something I think should be replicated in regards to other LinkVerse comics but it’s also something beautiful and creative? Like, Jojo to a certain extent has or had lost control of the fandom’s versions of these characters. She made them and we respect her wishes for them but they no longer belong to her? The LU fandom’s LU is a collectively written LinkVerse and exploration of the loz games, using these characters and relationships as a base (which is why I think people mistag by accident so much.) Sure, you could use the characters directly from the games or make your own LinkVerse to explore the relationships between the loz games. However, within the context of the LU fandom, you get the advantage of the template already being there for the character’s personalities, meeting, secrets, and an open ended goal, and these things are understood by a large number of invested people, leading to this huge collaborative project. This is what’s so special about the LinkedUniverse fandom to me. Watching this thing be built and getting to be a contributing piece of it. Maybe it shouldn’t have happened. Like, if something like that were to happen to anything I’ve made I think that’d be really scary. But it’s also something incredible? It’s why I have a hard time accepting it when people say they hate the LU fandom. How could you hate the creativity? The shared stories? What’s been made? Isn’t it incredible? It’s another LinkVerse, in a way, one that belongs to many. I'm frustrated by the instances where people have tried to police the way the characters are written, both within the fandom and towards Jojo’s comic, and the issues in communication, and callout posts asjhfksdf Problems in reconciling the LU fandom’s LU, Jojo’s LU, other LinkVerses, and gen loz. But the phenomenon of the fandom itself, the shared collaborative LU fandom’s LinkedUniverse? I think it’s such a cool thing. I think it’s such a cool way to explore and examine the loz games and craft stories with so many other people. I really enjoy all the LinkVerses that are around now. I don’t think the fandom for LU is something that can be replicated. (or should?) (it’s both something odd and a loss of control for Jojo but also a conduit for an incredible amount of creativity and community.) It’s really interesting to me. It’s really interesting to witness. Or to have witnessed?

and now tired rambling, but,, aaa

What I love about the fandom is seeing ideas and headcanons and art and fic be shared and then built upon. The community projects! The LU Zine. The valentine's day cards! The artist and writer appreciation projects! The weekly polls and prompts from the main LU server! The master door post! Long haired Sky! Tick-tac-toe on Legend's forehead! Crop top Roolie! Cheer up buttercup! Seeing small headcanons being adopted into fanon lore and being able to watch that progression. Seeing these tropes develop and being a contributing part of it! It's something we're building together and watching that happen in real time is so special! Again, it's that 1 person building a thing vs hundreds of people building a thing that is so alluring to me.

The creators, and analysis folks, and people who leave comments and nice tags: I see you as my peers! I want to create with you! I'd love to participate in collabs and trades! I haven't been able to be involved as much as I want because of a lack of spoons. But, I admire so many of the people here. Thank you all so much for sharing what you've made! Thank you for allowing me to be a part of it! Thank you for supporting me and my silly ideas for these characters! My art is a conversation and I approach what the LU fandom's made in the same way. It's not content to be consumed. It's an open hand. I'm so grateful to those who have taken it. You've inspired me to create. It's the greatest honor if I'm able to do the same for you. I want to keep making things with you guys.

(To anyone who's made fanart for fic and vice-versa, to anyone's who's seen a headcanon and let the poster know that it's changed how you view the characters, to anyone who's contributed game information to analysis, to those answering asks and doing requests? ya'll are the best keep it up!)

#rays random ramblings #I dunno.. We're in this together!#do hit me up for collabs and send me fic recs #there is so much more I wish I could do!#there are so many fics I want to make art for!#I have so many ideas to share!#if only I could get to all of it #what a way to start a tuesday huh?#lu fandom

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katyawriteswhump · 4 months

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dragon's hoard excerpt...

My first ever WIP Wednesday!

This is part of a prequel to ‘Dragon’s Treasure’ (E-rated and churned out for monster-f**cker May so dead dove warning for monster sex etc!) Absolute zero pressure tags for @medusapelagia and @sidekick-hero, who asked about this one weeks ago… before it got totally postponed by monster may and the more-E-rated-than-originally planned sequel! ETA: fic now posted here

…

Steve really wished Eddie would stop disappearing into dark corners of the cave, so he could at least enjoy looking at that skin-tight-PVC-clad butt. “Look, man, I think you’ve got a problem with the hoarding. We’ve all been a little tense since we, uh, saved the world, and—”

“I’m not tense. You need to relax, Honey. You’re gonna love it here, as much as I do.”

“Whatever.” Steve was relieved that Eddie was finally throwing attention onto him, stalking over. “Can we make out already?”

“Sure thing.” Eddie slid a hand to the small of Steve’s back. Steve looped his arms around Eddie, and their mouths clashed in a kiss.

Soon, Steve twisted his fists in Eddie’s hair, mashing them ever closer. Meanwhile, Eddie shoved his hand down the back of Steve’s pants, grabbed the meat of his ass, and squeezed till the flesh sang.

Yeah, Steve was loving it. He worked the kiss till his jaw ached. Christ, Eddie made him feel… Okay, totally turned on, but also softer somehow, more relaxed, even as other parts of him grew rock-hard. And that feeling, which rushed upon him, was as weird and alien as this crazy place. Eddie was right. Steve had been wired and edgy for so damn long…

…and then Steve stopped thinking, because the kiss was mind-blowing. Eddie backed him up against the bars that stretched across the entire width of the cave. He thrust a knee up between Steve’s leg, scrubbing roughly.

Jesus… Yes… There… Oh God!

Steve was totally losing it. He scarcely noticed that a door in the bars had swung open, and that Eddie backed him through. When they finally broke apart, Steve was breathless, dizzy. He tasted copper, realized his lip bled. He still couldn’t rip his eyes from Eddie, who licked a smudge of Steve’s blood from his own mouth.

That should not be this hot.

“Didn’t mean to hurt you, Babe,” said Eddie. “You okay there?”

“Never better.” Steve shrugged. Meanwhile, Eddie unwound his arms from Steve, took a step back. Cool as ice, he shut the barred door between them, and snapped a padlock closed.

“What the...?”

The reality of the situation splashed into Steve, like a bucket of water waking him from a freaky—okay, also smokin’ hot—dream. He shoved his fist through the bars, grabbed the front of Eddie’s t-shirt: “What the hell you playing at, Munson?”

“Just wanted to see how you look. In my lil’ den. With the rest of my pretty stash.”

“Open the goddamn door.” Steve’s voice sounded strange, small. “This real t-twisted shit.” Why was he stammering? He gritted his teeth. “I’ll punch you so hard! This is beyond a joke, man.”

Eddie reached through the bars, grazed his knuckles down the shallow stubble on Steve’s cheek. “Shhhhhssssss.”

The sound trailed off into a hiss, and Steve was… Shit, he didn’t want to fight. He’d still gotten a hold of Eddie’s t-shirt and his fist trembled.

“You’re safe here,” murmured Eddie. “You’ll be safe here at last. I promise you, Steve. I promise.”

Steve’s grip on Eddie loosened and his arm fell away. He should be punching Eddie, grabbing the key, running from this place like he’d got a demogorgon was on his tail.

He wasn’t.

ETA: fic now posted here

#wip wednesday #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie smut #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steve harrington whump #sub steve harrington #bottom steve harrington #top eddie munson

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incorrectringsofpower · 5 days

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Season 2 Ep 6 liveblog reaction notes (spoilers behind the cut)

Run, Arondir, run!

He is just that cool.

Doing okay there, Celebrimbor?

Mirdania: Early-onset dementia is a really bad sign for an immortal, boss.

Annatar trying to talk about having the creative Flow State but evil lmao

"As you wish." Oh yeah the fandom will love that.

Lol the Sauron theme quietly playing after he agrees to see about the mithril.

"Pray that he finishes this work before it finishes him." Oh I hate you.

Annatar is such a creeeeep. Stop touching herrrrr.

Awkward Dinner Party time!

At least none of the food appears to be made of Man...?

Sam as Adar has such a good screen presence. They chose well for the recast.

Ooh Dutch angles have made a return?

Galadriel loves getting offered armies, it is true.

Interesting to offer Adar children. Can we go back to the FA and hear that convo?

Ooh stabby crown!

I was there, Gandalf. I mean, Galadriel.

Her hair is half in the light, half in the dark here. Interesting.

Adar, stop spoiling the plot of Season 1! /s

Ughhhhhhhhhh leave Elendil aloooooone.

Yeah I'm angrily sewing today. Fuck all of these people.

Sure would be nice if Anárion showed up.

More rhyming.

My poor Harfoot wives ship! Ah well. This one is cute, too.

Lmao the predicted kiss was from the ship pretty much no one expected it from. Take that, trolls.

Not Tom Bombadil basically parroting what was said by the Guru in S2 of AtLA lol.

Nice gold you have there. Sure would be a shame if anything happened to it.

Prince Durin wants to call him a bitch sooooo baaad.

Stop using "precious"! I have a visceral response to it ;_;

Yay, we are gonna get a reference to the mithril armor from LotR!

Lady Macbeth viiiibes

lol wut they summon the monster a la Dune?

Bit too late for that, Eärien.

Not my sad tragic shiiiiip :(

More emphasis on faith this season!

My shiiip ;;_;;

"The sea is always right" coming back to haunt us all again.

Disa: Surprise bitch. Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.

Ok but you both could use Elrond. Pls. I beg. Where is Elrond?

At least Elendil has plot armor for now?

Míriel noooooo :'(

Haaate this, haaaate this

Soft touching but I'm sad about it :((((

Ossë be nice pls

NOPE NOPE NOPE

I have regrets about a quote I made earlier this week. Sorry in advance whenever the queue spits it out :/

Get rekt Pharazôn.

So this is how they force the first cousin marriage? Hmmmm.

Pharazôn, you'd live longer if you stopped doomscrolling 4chan. Just saying.

The Galadriel x Adar shippers are gonna love this episode.

Yah ok, sorry Adar girlies but I think he just sealed his fate with that.

Sauron: In my divorce era. Skin clear, crops withering, rings growing.

Sauron: Pushing me is gonna get you turned into a banner, buddy.

Ohhh. He's dream sequencing him. Lovely.

Charlie loves that he can be the one to title drop so much this season. Also. Annatar. Stop saying "precious". I'm seriously twitchy about that word aughhhh.

Feänor must be rolling in his grave rn that Sauron touched his hammer.

Quite a way to end the episode lol.

Battle two-parter starts next week, wahoo!

#trop #trop spoilers #the rings of power #the rings of power spoilers #cinnia speaks #incorrectringsofpower

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loganthrives · 5 months

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RimWorld: Anomaly

I want to tell y'all a story.

So. RimWorld's fourth DLC Anomaly released this week, and for the past two days I've been playing it almost non-stop. I'll put it below the cut because its obviously a crapton of spoilers, but I'm just kind of blown away at how much story this DLC adds to the infamous story generator game.

Like, I have over 4,000 hours in this game and this is the first time that its felt like its telling me an actual story.

Spoilers ahead! TW: child death in the context of this cruel cruel video game:

I had this colonist join named Bristle who was described as a "leathery stranger" with a unique ability - he can blow up animals (and people, presumably) with his mind into hunks of twisted flesh. I said, sure, why not! Join my colony, what's the worst that could happen?!

Well, the worst that could happen is he went and studied a monolith on the beach outside of my base and it teleported him into a strange grey labyrinth. Pretty much just as soon as he got here, he's now trapped in some kinda void maze. Great!

It took me a couple of rooms before I noticed the markings on the floor, so once I realized I could read them I examined every single one I could find.

The messages are... Evocative, but they start giving me names. I'm wondering this whole time, who is Raisa? And who is Tom? I checked all of my colonists - I don't have anyone by either name. Are they people I should know? Or... People I haven't met yet?

Fortunately, because Bristle had literally just joined my colony, he came with his own rifle and 12x fine meals, so he could actually bum around and hang out in the labyrinth for a pretty long time. I ended up mapping out the entire thing before his last 6 meals disappeared from his inventory.

I found a couple rooms with fleshspikes - those are these pink little flesh monsters with a giant protruding spike coming out of their heads? - but thanks to Bristle's ability to explode creatures with his mind, I just... Exploded it.

I also found a couple groves of trees underground, a couple of horses randomly, and some bottomless pits. I was tempted to walk over one just to see what would happen (and savescum out of it ofc), but I didn't end up doing it.

I'm really concerned about Tom and Raisa though. Are they okay? Did they make it out?

I'm especially concerned about Tom. That... Doesn't sound okay.

And then I push through yet another door.

This is Raisa... And Tom.

I gasped out loud in real life. Nora came over to check on me because holy shit, that's so sad. Suddenly their notes makes sense. The obelisk abducted a woman and her child, and they got stuck in here for who knows how long. The wounds they had indicated that a fleshspike had done this to them.

I went to the exit - I had found it earlier, I just wanted to keep exploring. Thankfully, everything that had been left behind was kicked out of the labyrinth with Bristle when it collapsed on itself and the obelisk itself vanished from sight.

Including Raisa and Tom. I had to give them a proper burial. Wish I could've done more.

The messages were all from Raisa after she lost her son Tom.

I had done the two researchers one ghoul story start because I wanted to dive right into the DLC, and one of those researchers, Rose, arrived pregnant. Baby Thorn is almost three years old and still doesn't have a name.

Its kind of funny, because when I first landed she idly wandered near the monument, and I had one of those gamer coincidences where she walked by it right at the same time I got the notification that she was pregnant.

So I wound up continuing this colony even though it was a crap start, thinking I'd get some kind of void baby out of the deal? Nope, normal baby, normal birth. He's just chilling in his crib being looked after by the whole community as happy as can be. She must've been pregnant on the screen where I selected her for my colony and I just missed that detail.

Another funny thing about this kid, is that his father is Unknown, and apparently Rose's ex was the ghoul Kaito that I also started with. So, presumably, it was her ghoul (ex) husband's son, but the game's code doesn't seem to be able to link him as the other parent, either because he's a ghoul or because it happened as part of the game's starting conditions. Also she's actually gay on her character sheet, so I dunno how that worked for them? Ehh, I'm not gunna judge.

Anyways, I'm thinking about naming him Tom.

Here's hoping he has a long and full life.

#rimworld #anomaly #anomaly spoilers #tw: death of a young child #in a video game #I see that as potentially triggering even still #anyways I'm invested

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dragonflylady77 · 7 months

Text

Mr Steve and the Monster Hunter

Here is it! The last chapter of my fic for @bigbangharringrove

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Ao3

Steve has a lot of things to say

Chapter 6 - I'm all in

Steve is finally holding Billy in his arms and he doesn’t want to let go. He’s not sure where this urge is coming from but it’s all encompassing and he is not questioning it. His gut is telling him he is where he is supposed to be, and well, his gut has yet to steer him wrong.

Strangely for someone who just spent a week in a coma, he is exhausted and very sleepy. He has no idea what time it is. Daylight is still coming through the open window but he vaguely remembers reading somewhere that the sun sets at different times in different parts of the country and he’s never been to California before.

Billy didn’t say anything when Steve told him he’d missed him, instead he gently wrapped his arms around Steve, careful of his injuries and various bandages. Steve knows he needs to explain, even if his brain still feels a bit scrambled.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Steve lets out a short laugh that makes his chest sting a bit. He brings his hand back up to play with Billy’s hair. “How can I miss someone I barely knew? But I did, Billy. Somehow, I really did. And then… then you were there, alive, somehow even better looking than I remembered, and so fucking full of life… Of course I jumped when you offered to answer my questions.”

“Not like I got the chance to do much of that,” Billy mumbles and Steve can feel his breath on his chest. It feels nice and he wishes they were wearing less clothes and weren’t on a narrow hospital bed so he could feel it more.

Still, he can’t let Billy feel bad for running off when Eleven reached out for help.

“Well that is hardly your fault, is it? Just like what happened to me isn’t your fault.”

Billy sits up at that and pierces Steve with a thunderous look. He looks fierce, and hot as sin, and Steve wants to trace that scar on his cheek with his finger… or his lips. His brain and his heart seem to be fully on board with that plan.

“Billy…” Steve starts, reaching out to take Billy’s hand again, happy when Billy lets him..

“No, Steve.” Billy runs his free hand through his hair with a sigh. “I know better. The rules are there for a reason and I shouldn’t have let you come with us. It was my mission. I knew the risks and—fuck!” Billy looks straight at Steve then, his eyes wet with tears and Steve feels something squeeze his heart at the sight.

“Steve, you nearly died because of me. Because I let my feelings get in the way.”

“Billy…”

“I can’t… I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.” The chuckle Billy lets out is rough and raw. “I'm lucky Max hasn't come after me yet. I keep expecting her to come at me with Cindy to try and detach my head from my body.”

Steve was confused. “Who's Cindy?”

“My ax.”

“Okay...” Steve is sure Billy had a good reason to name his ax Cindy but it’s not relevant at this point. They can talk weapon names later. Steve is so going to ask for a tour of HellGrove when he’s no longer stuck in a hospital bed.

“Hey.” Steve links his fingers with Billy’s. “Forget about Max. And the rules. It’s like Robin said. I’m here. I’m alive.”

“You know, I did wonder how much of that private conversation you heard.”

Steve watches as a pink blush blooms on Billy’s cheeks and it’s the most wonderful thing he’s ever seen in his life.

“Let’s just say I heard Olivia ask you a question and I noticed you didn’t actually answer said question.”

“Jesus, Harrington. Don’t pull punches on my account.”

“You gonna tell me, Hargrove?” If Billy is gonna go back to last names, instead of his usual pet names, Steve is gonna follow suit. It brings back memories of high school posturing and what Steve can now see was Billy pulling his metaphorical pigtails at a time where being queer could get one in a lot of trouble, or worse. One glance shows Steve that Billy is still blushing and the neckline of his HellGrove tee stops Steve from seeing how far down it goes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Billy says and Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes.

Steve sits up, not paying attention to the slight sting on his chest when he does, damn bandages pulling on his chest hair, as he drags Billy to him by his hand, putting his other hand on the back of Billy’s neck to hold him there.

“Billy, the day after I found out you were alive, I went to see Robin and Heather so Robin could answer some of my questions.”

“I bet you had a few,” Billy chuckles softly.

“Hoo boy, yes I did. Then I even had questions about things I found out that day. About you. About Olivia. Then Robin said you were on your way back and I, um, I kinda freaked out.”

“Why? Steve, I’m not—”

“Oh, um, well, turns out I’m not very good at hiding things from Robin, and she said I definitely needed to have a chat with you or I would regret it.”

The laughter that peels out of Billy surprises them both. Steve thinks he looks so beautiful and happy.

“That’s your first mistake, pretty boy,” Billy says. “You, of all people, should know you can’t hide things from Robin. She always finds out. And if she doesn’t, Heather does.”

“Heather scares me.”

“Oh my god.” Billy is still laughing and Steve wants to keep making him.

“She is fiercely protective of you and I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“Oh. yeah, um, about that…” Billy suddenly looks embarrassed and it’s not what Steve wants. At all.

“I, um, I’d like to change that.” He smiles. “Billy, I know it might seem sudden, since I only found out about you a week ago, but…” Steve stops and looks down at their fingers. Considering what Steve heard of Billy’s chat with Robin in the hallway, he doesn’t think it’s too much of a gamble that Billy will react favorably. Still, he’s been surprised before so it’s always better to make sure.

“But?”

“I had a dream about you the night we met again,” Steve says, before he pulls Billy closer. “A very detailed, very private, kind of dream,” he whispers, his mouth so close to Billy’s he can feel his breath.

“Oh, did you now?” Billy whispers back and their lips are pretty much touching now and Billy’s hands are holding his face and Steve closes his eyes and he nods and then Billy is kissing him and Steve can’t think beyond ‘BillyBillyBillyBillyBilly’.

The kiss feels like everything he didn’t know he wanted and more. Steve feels Billy’s tongue trace the seam of his lips and he opens his mouth and the kiss gets better. Billy is kissing him like he’s something precious, all slow and slick, and it makes Steve moan and once again wish they weren’t on a narrow hospital bed.

Too soon, Billy pulls back. He licks his lips and Steve feels his body shudder at the sight. He definitely wants more of that. Everywhere.

Billy chuckles and Steve realizes he may have said that out loud. He shrugs, then winces because the movement pulls on the bandages and Billy gives him a worried look.

“I’m okay. I wonder when they’ll let me go home. Or, you know, get out of here.”

“What did the doctor say earlier?”

Steve doesn’t ask how Billy knows the doctor came to see him, the guy kinda owns the building after all. “He said they need to run some more tests but I should be allowed out in a couple of days.”

“That’s good.”

Something important suddenly clicks when Steve hears himself talk about going home. “Oh God. Billy, I've been missing work for over a week. How am I going to tell my boss I am suddenly in California?”

“Oh, Max sorted that out for you. You'll have to ask her. When the doctor gives the okay, I'll portal you back to your house and you can, um, you know, go back to your life.”

“That's the second time you've said that to me,” Steve notes, not liking the way Billy is now looking at some point over Steve's shoulder, like he was distancing himself from Steve.

“Is it?” Billy sits back, his hands dropping to the bed.

“Uh huh.” Steve picks Billy's hand again and makes eye contact, locking gaze with Billy. “Billy, I…” Steve smiles. “I don't want to go back to not knowing. I love teaching, don't get me wrong, but I can do that anywhere. But this?” Steve gestures between himself and Billy. “This is way too important. You are too important.”

“Steve…” Billy looks away and tries to get his hand back but Steve holds fast.

“No, I missed my chance in high school because things got fucked up and I didn’t realise it until it was way too late. But now that I know you’re alive? Now that I understand what the things I am feeling really mean? There is no fucking way I’m going back to what I had before.”

“What’s that?” Billy asks, his tone bitter and sad. “A quiet life without monsters? A safe job in a nice school? School moms fawning over you day in and day out? What’s so bad about that life, Steve?”

“Well, for one, if you’re not there with me, I don’t want it.”

“You can’t mean that.” The dejection comes through clearly in Billy’s resigned tone. Steve wonders what happened to Billy to make him believe he doesn’t deserve this and more. He makes a quick promise to himself to spend the rest of his life showing Billy how cherished he is.

“I can, and I do.” He grins at the man he loves, because, yes, there is no other word to explain the warmth filling his chest when he looks at Billy. “It will come to no surprise to you that your daughter isn’t the only one who’s been eavesdropping, not that you and Robin were particularly quiet in the doorway before. Billy, holding you, kissing you, it feels like the last piece of the puzzle finally slotted into place.”

Steve notices the tears rolling down Billy’s cheeks and he can feel his face is wet as well, but he presses on. “You can have this. Have me. I want you to know that I’m all in. If that’s what you want.”

The longing in Billy’s eyes threatens to undo Steve completely and Steve can’t take it anymore. He pulls Billy back to him, once again ignoring the sting on his chest at the movement, and brings their mouths together.

Billy lets out a moan and melts against him. This time Billy ends up on top of Steve, obliterating Steve’s ability to form thoughts beyond ‘ohmygodohmygodohmygod!’ and there is nothing Steve would change about that.

Not even when the nurse rushes in to check on the screeching monitor because Steve’s heart rate is going through the roof.

***

The feeling of a cold arm around his waist pulls Steve from his slumber, the cold chest against his back waking him up a bit more. He shivers when its owner pulls him closer, their legs tangling together.

“Fuck, your feet are freezing!” Steve exclaims sleepily, attempting to move away, but Billy wraps his limbs around him like an overly amorous octopus.

“Sorry, baby. Livi went to the bathroom and got scared of the dark once she woke up fully. We really need to get those nightlights we’ve been talking about to put in the hallway,” Billy says, his lips kissing a trail along Steve’s bare shoulder.

“Mmmm, good idea,” Steve replies, barely listening because the kisses feel too nice. When Billy nibbles on the crook of his neck, Steve lets out a soft moan and, damn, he wants more. He turns around in Billy’s arms, spreadings both hands on Billy’s chest, the tips of his fingers finding the familiar grooves of the scars covering the hard muscles.

Steve moves a hand up to bury in Billy’s hair, the golden curls longer now than they were a year ago, and pulls lightly. He finds Billy’s lips in the dark and licks into his mouth, swallowing Billy’s needy grunt. Steve starts a slow grind against the thigh Billy slotted between his legs as the kiss gets sloppy.

He lets out a loud groan when he feels Billy’s hardening cock against his. Billy squeezes his ass in warning.

“Shhhh, Stevie, not so loud, you’ll wake the baby,” Billy whispers as he ends the kiss to nip at Steve’s jaw.

Steve bites his lip to stop the whimpers as Billy moves to his neck, licking the spot he knows full well makes Steve melt. “Billy, baby, you’re really not helping,” Steve bites out, trying to stay quiet when Billy pushes him onto his back and straddles him. “Fuck…”

Billy’s throaty chuckle against his ear hits Steve right in the dick. “That’s the idea, pretty boy.” He punctuates that with another nibble on his neck and a hard grind of his hips.

Steve grabs Billy’s thighs with both hands and digs his fingers in. “Billy!” he warns with an urgent whisper, knowing full well it will only spur Billy on. Billy rolls his hips again, making Steve gasp.

“You fucker!”

“Aww, baby, don’t be like that,” Billy says against Steve’s collarbone as he sucks a hickey Steve knows he will need to hide under a high-collared shirt tomorrow. “You know I’ll make you feel good,” Billy adds, hands snaking between them, fingers tangling in the thick mat of Steve’s chest hair.

Steve knows what’s coming and he is powerless to stop it. Billy pulls and Steve’s hips arch off the bed, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip in a mammoth effort to stay quiet. Steve knows exactly what look Billy is giving him right now even if it’s too dark to actually see it. That look that says he’s proud of himself but only getting started…

“Billy, please…” Steve isn’t sure what he’s asking for, but if the past year loving this man has taught him anything, it’s that Billy will deliver.

“I got you.” Billy gets off of him then and Steve feels the loss of his weight on him keenly.

A shudder goes through Steve when he feels Billy’s hands on his hips, sliding in towards his crotch, and he spreads his legs to accommodate his boyfriend. He bites down on a moan when Billy settles between his thighs.

“Shhhh,” Billy whispers as he mouths Steve’s hard dick over his pants and Steve slams a pillow over his face because there’s no way he can stay quiet, especially not when Billy reaches under the waistband of his pajama pants, his fingers extracting Steve’s dick and giving it a squeeze.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Steve whispers, panting already, and trying—really trying—to make as little noise as possible.

When Billy licks a stripe from root to tip, Steve’s free hand grabs the bedding next to him, clutching the sheet with desperate fingers.

When Billy sucks on the head of his cock, Steve’s breath stutters, then his entire body bows from the effort to stay quiet when Billy takes him all the way down.

It’s too much, too wet, too tight, too warm, too good, and Steve knows he’s not gonna last very long, not with the way Billy is going to town on his dick from the word go. Steve wishes there was more light in the room so he could watch because it’s a sight he never tires from.

He feels Billy’s fingers leave his hip and slide inward, brushing past his balls, then further south. The moment Billy’s fingertips touch his rim, it’s all over. The fingers digging into his hip are the only thing anchoring him to the bed as Steve bites down on the pillow he’s still holding over his face in an attempt to keep from waking up everyone on their street.

He’s only vaguely aware of Billy climbing up his body and removing the pillow, allowing him to catch his breath. He’s pretty sure Billy sucked his soul through his dick and somehow melted every bone in his body as well.

“You okay, pretty boy?” Billy asks and Steve can hear his grin.

“Uh huh.” Steve can’t make words right now, he’s pretty sure his brain leaked out his ears or something. RIP last brain cell.

Billy wraps one arm around him, pulling him close, and Steve manages to roll onto his side to rest his head on Billy’s chest. He hums happily, his fingers playing idly with the scar on Billy’s chest.

“Billy?” Steve asks, breaking the comfortable silence they are lying in. He's glad they didn't wake the baby up. He doesn’t regret offering Robin and Heather a weekend off parenting so they could get a break, but keeping the noise down when Billy does unspeakable things to him is exhausting.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think…?”

Steve stops then, trying to articulate the thought he just had, even though his brain wants to sleep because he just had an orgasm and it's the middle of the night.

“What is it?”

“Do you think you'd want to get married on a beach?”

“Pretty boy?” Billy asks, his hand stopping mid stroke on Steve’s arm.

“I mean, I know it's not legal or anything, not yet anyway, but one day…”

“If that's your proposal, it needs work, princess.”

Steve drops a kiss on Billy's chest. “Nah, just wondering. When I propose to you, you'll know for sure.”

“What if I propose to you first?”

THE END

I did some doodles for this fic, because I could... (chapter 1 and chapter 4)

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove big bang #harringrove bigbang #harringrovebigbang #dragonflylady77 #mr steve and the monster hunter

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