#sorry i will go back to my hidey hole

[ofknowlcdge]

no, absolutely not. i refuse to watch something i spent like not even 3 minutes to try again on a god damn stupid ass show i have no interest in.

[spow-ed]

“Jashverse” this and “Jashverse” that

Spiderverse Chonny Jash AU WHEN. WHEN.

We could capitalize on this so much please hear me ou

[lotus-exter]

yo this fic by @malevolentmango is sick as fuck! and once i finished the new chapter i was bored & drew WYAB!akechi... at least i tried to... my brain isnt the best at making Images of people from descriptions of clothing but i think i did well! :3 i didnt know how to draw his mask for a while so there’s Three of them there. Deal w/ it Lmao. sorry abt the shit outlining on them. it is 12am & i am Tired. anyways Please read what you’ve already buried or i Will bury you. in a tomb. Goodbye.

[radicalhighway]

man. sux to see ive actually radically dropped interest in pokemon. been meaning to replay violet for yonks now and i still have yet to even buy the dlc. used to be day 1 super excited go crazy go stupid over that shit but now its just smth neat i can put on the back shelf and interact w later. wild

[classpectpokerap]

What exactly does "gloves is canon" mean, if you don't mind me asking?

let's just fucking get right into it.

Ultimate Rose Pt. 2: Gloves Are Canon

if you haven't seen part 1, here it is. the tldr version of it was to estabish candy rose (at the VERY least) as a liar. i also have a headcanon about ultrose putting alpha earth rose into front in candy timeline, but that doesn't really matter too much. its just kinda fun

anyway. heres the theory.

so you guys know A Threat, Sensed, right?

it's one of the hs2 bonus comics. originally patreon exclusive, but was made public for everyone during the hiatus. and i think it contains some deeply revealing information.

you may be wondering... hey, isn't that the comic where ultdirk talks to hussie about yiffy? like, its hussie's one appearance in the comic. kind of weird.

ahaha. yeah. so. about that.

let's rewind a bit. what's the contents of A Threat Sensed?

dirk wakes up after having the shit kicked out of him in pesterquest.

rose is like huh? huh wuh? but dirk gives her a thumbs up. and then he goes to sit on his computer, and type to god.

and then after that delay, he gets a reply.

etc etc etc. they talk. they chat. hussie talks about his beloved daughter yiffy. normal stuff. hey roll that last one back

let's play in this space. lets play in this space. perspective. daughter.

who's daughter is yiffy?

---

let's rewind.

when homestuck act 6 dropped, it released with one very important page.

this page.

this page, where someone with seemingly grey skin is typing on a keyboard. holy fuck, what a reveal. new troll. oh my god. this is the 13th troll

like, they have to be a troll, right? theyve got the time stuff. theyve got a symbol. theyve got shit going on with them

ah.

they were wearing gloves.

this? this is fucking huge.

in homestuck we see that shot a lot. of fingers on a keyboard. but every single time we have seen it, we have also seen at least one shot of the person typing, right?

with two exceptions. one is callie in the act 6 reveal.

and the other is andrew.

er, sorry.

"andrew."

from the patreon post on A Threat Sensed:

those are fake hands. what. what . what. what.

so

if this comic has a history of having a reveal when it comes to characters where Only Their Hands are being shown

and gloves are canon to homestuck, and have been used to precipitate this reveal

then perhaps

gloves are canon here as well.

if you'll allow me to speculate. on the gloves are canon in question.

yeah of fucking course rose is pretending to be hussie because WHO ELSE WOULD IT BE adjKFJGSKDHdskjgjkfskjgdsf

ITS ROSE!!! IT WAS ROSE THE WHOLE TIME

LETS REREAD.

"is that why you were lying on the floor" a question that Rose had because she saw his ass lying on the floor!!!!!!!

MY DAUGHTER

MY DAUGHTER YIFFANY LONGSTOCKING LALONDE HARLEY

hm purple background. anyway im sure thats fine

hm. hm. hm. psychoanalysis. hmmm. hm.

now if i was rose

if i was ultrose. and i wanted an ultimate weapon against dirk.

if i wanted to Make A Weapon Against Dirk.

what would i do.

how would i create it.

who would i hurt in the process.

anyway. this is all leading up to part 3 of this fucking nightmare roller coaster. but uh. basically. i think this one is like all but confirmed????

like...

We’ve had quite a bit of speculation on whether this is “really” Andrew. To that, I think we’d say that it doesn’t “really” matter. If you’re asking are those Andrew’s actual hands, then no, of course not. Because those hands are fake hands that are on the computer screen.

this sounds like it's telling us no, it's not "really" andrew. and to look at the hands. and we KNOW from part 1 of this theory that rose is incredibly deceitful.

the delay in "andrew"'s response could have plausibly been rose slipping away into her little hidey hole, putting on the stupid fucking gloves, and only then typing.

andrew never confirms who he is. and i'll admit, some of the lines don't sound 100% like rose. but others do. others really, really do.

i like this theory because it makes rose and dirk's rivalry on deltrius interesting. it means she has legs up on him. he thinks he's talking to hussie, but he isn't. she has plans within plans. she's got shit she's cooking.

i like it because it contextualizes yiffy, too.

hm wow it sure seems like the candy timeline isnt actually all that sealed! it sure seems like theres something in there that is a corrosive paradox! something that affects both timelines!

something

or someone!!!!!!!!!!!!

anyway. yiffy is an ultdirk icbm created by rose . rose wore gloves. gloves are canon. that's my theory graaaaaaaaaahhh

part 3 coming soon :3

[zwolfgames]

|Mistakes|Platonic Yandere Alastor x fem!reader

Requested: /

Warnings: Alastor, condescending behavior (thats it for part 1)

Parts: Part 1 (you are here) , Part 2 , Part 3

(Takes place before the Hazbin hotel and before Alastors dissapearance. + You have jellyfish features cuz demons have those extra animal things idk.)

(3rd person POV)

Here you were, Y/N L/N. Or well, thats what your mortal name had been.

After twenty harsh years in hell you had just stuck with only Y/N. Died at twenty four, how sad.

Tough thats not your problem at the moment, the real problem is your current situation.

Extermination day.

It had started half an hour ago.. Angels poured from the skies like dark birds, bad omens. Angels of death.

Angelic blasts and weapons rained down upon your neighbourhood. The appartement you had worked so hard for to get was in ruins. Your ceiling had fallen down and blocked you into your windowless kitchen...

Your whole appartment must be destroyed... Just you and your kitchen... If you were lucky, the angels wouldn't search for any sinners here...

And maybe... your unexpected guest would be of aid if they did.

You hadn't dare speak to him.

Alastor... Radio Demon. An overlord.

The red, deer-like demon had shown up in your kitchen when the ceiling crashed down... Why? You didn't dare ask.

Surely he could do some wicked magic nonsese to get out, unlike you and your absolute lack of impressive powers.

Maybe he just tought this would be a good hidey hole. Or he saw you as his next prey... One's clearly nicer then the other.

The tall overlord simply hums in his radio accented tone. Looking at his sharp fingers with that same grin on his face.

It hadn't changed since he came in here. Just kept on smiling.

"Lovely day today, wouldn't you say?"

He spoke... The overlord spoke to you! Shit- now what? Smile and wave! Fall over and die!

"Couldn't be better..." You sigh in clear sarcasm. You don't know what compelled you to play jokes with mister 'could kill you in a snap'. But perhaps you felt doomed enough to just go for it.

Alastor chuckled rather charmingly. Still smiling. His sharp yellow teeth looked... scary, to say the least.

"My my, what positivity. You must be a wonderfull sinner." Alastor grins and looks down at your seated form.

You were simply sitting on the kitchen floor, knees to your chest as you leaned against the wall.

You hum in acknowladgement.

Alastor had eyed your features... You weren't the most common animal he'd seen a sinner be manifested as.

Sure everyone had their human like parts... but.. jellyfish? He's never seen a jellyfish sinner before.

A big, seetrough cap on your head, like that of a jellyfish. It must be attached to your head... Long glossy tendrils hang from it. Practically coating you in a protective curtain.

Alastor wonders if you sting...

"I like your cap. You look more serene then most sinners." Alastor atempts at conversation once more.

"Thanks... I like your horns." You reply, albeit a lot more awkard then he was. Cmon, you can't blame yourself. Overlords are scary!

Alastor keeps smiling. Atleast you were polite enough to compliment back. Your awkardness was amusing.

The clear struggle for survival was evident in your eyes. He liked the look. What? He's a sadistic killer.

"Whats your name, jellyfish girl?" Alastor asked, maybe in a little bit of a belitteling manner... but he was showing intrest. Who's he kidding, he's just bored and he'd rather chat with this sinner then face angels outside.

"Name's Y/N. You- I mean.. I know you- sorry." You retsrain from hitting yourself multiple times.

Alastor chuckles again. Oh how fun, you're getting so nervous just from his presence. Better then the usual fear or fawning tough... he can work with this.

"Alastor, dear. How about some bevarages as we wait out this extermination? Mhh? Im sure your little kitchen has something." Alastor suggests. Oh- hanging out with the Radio demon on extermination day, yea sure, why not?

"Oh.. sure.. I've got... water and fruit juice..." You trail of solemly at your.. clear lack of good options.

"Why, no alchohol, dear? You're a rare creature." Alastor hums in amusement as he takes in your sad fridge. Money came slowly when you were in hell! Okay?! You're not into any shady buisiness... so.

"So thats a no to drinks...?" You ask awkardly.

"I'll take water." Alastor answers.

You nod and serve him a glass of water. Atleast your fridge still works, so it's cold.

Alastor gently takes the glass and takes a sip. He sits down next to you on the floor. Albeit at a respectfull distance. Maybe cuz he just doesn't like being close... or he wants you to feel safe. Wich, good try but you don't.

"So, Y/N. Those tendrils of yours. Do they sting?" Alastor asks with a broad smile.

"Yup. From what i've seen, really badly." You nod, getting just a tad bit more comfrotable now since you two were just talking about random things.

Alastor raised a brow, and he does the dumbest thing you have ever witnessed... wich seemed highly unlikely of an overlord.

He grabbed a tendril... What is this dude thinking?!

You saw the signature 'zap' sparkle trough the overlord. His hair fizzed up and he was out like a light.

Did he take your defences as a challange or something? What now? You've accidently killed lower sinners with your sting but... an overlord would be fine... right?

He's just.. sleepy...

You sigh and lay him down properly on the floor and try to find something to cushion his head with... Not a lot of good options in your kitchen... a bunch of towels it is then!

You managed to make the unconcious Radio Demon atleast a little comfy.

You awkardly try to get his hair flat again so he wouldn't... remember, maybe?

You were mid stroke when Alastors red eyes shot open. You flinch back immeadiatly as he gets up.

Tough instead of striking you, he laughs.

"A dangerous little thing you are, mhh?" Alastor chuckles and observes you.

"I suppose so.. sorry." You rub your neck, hoping he wouldn't oblivirate you for... well him touching your tendrils. It's defenitly his own fault, but that doesn't work like that with overlords.

"Don't be sorry dear. I should have believed you. Is that the full extent of your powers?" Alastor muses and looks at you closer.

Atleast you knew that if he were to physically try and attack you, he'd just get zapped like everyone else, good to know.

"I.. think so. It's like a protective little shield.." You answer with a nod. Alastor seems amused by the way that action makes your jellyfish cap bobble along.

"I can see that... don't like being touched, do you, dear?" Alastor asks with a toothy grin. You nod again.

"May I know why?" Alastor follows up.

"..No." You decide.

Alastor let's out a dramatic gasp.

"Oh deer, such attitude." He smirks and looks upon your messed up kitchen.

Deer puns... wow...

Oh a little mystery. How fun. You deem to be quite amusing.

Alastor keeps staring at you. It's making you feel a bit intimidated.

"... Music?" You suggest quietly. Looking up at him carefully. Holding out an earbud.

"From this... thing?" Alastor narrowed his red eyes.

You nod. "It's an earbud. Connected to my phone... my whole living room is in shambles so... no other means of music.. listening?" Your words were getting messed up as you were set under this demons scruntionizing gaze.

"Fine.." Alastor sighs in distaste. You notice you've messed up so your music choice had to be top notch!

He's from 19... 20? Something? Old. He's an old guy... old music... What does your downloaded list have to offer.

Frank Sinatra...

Who doesn't love that guy! Best guess. All or nothing.

As Alastor tries his best to put an earbud in his strange deer ears, you play the music.

It takes a couple seconds but the deer demon seems... content. A little sparkle in his eyes!

Yes, you guessed right! Take that, anxiety!

First mistake: Sharing good music.

_____☆_____

I really like splitting one shots into parts on here and then just upload just one whole thing on Wattpad, its just so cool to see feedback.

[lost-in-fandoms]

I know maybe you're not in the mood right now but any thoughts about Tarzan!Max? I'd accept thoughts about any of your pics because everything is amazing tbh but there's something about Tarzan!Max discovering a new world through Daniel and discovering how amazing is to fall in love.

Does Daniel take him to his farm? I think Max in Daniel's farm would be hilarious, amazed by everything and finding a family in Daniel's family too.

babe i am always down to talk about my boy in all and any situations! sorry this took a while, i took a little nap and then couldn't think about anything but!!!

(the first thing I thought was like..how do you get a whole person through customs. obviously max doesn't have a passport or any form of id so would they have to go through a sort of immigration procedure? but he's not emigrating from anywhere???? i guess i'll leave that problem to them sdfbdjhbf)

I love the idea of Daniel taking Max to his farm.

I'm imagining like. The jungle is Max's home right? But I imagine he's a little less in contact with his monkey pack. He likes to wander around and he has his own little hidey holes and his own places to sleep. So when he imprints on Daniel, he sees Daniel's "pack" as his new family. (and I am now thinking about Max trying to "groom" Daniel or Josh or whoever, gently raking his fingers through their hair and fiddling with their clothes and cleaning dirt smudges away after licking his thumb).

So when Daniel asks if Max wants to go with them, both because he can't imagine leaving another human being in the jungle and because he can't imagine leaving Max behind, Max goes. And in whatever way they manage to do it, Daniel brings him to his farm.

He understands that Max will probably never be ready to live in a city or close to a lot of people, he needs to be close to nature, and even if the nature in Daniel's farm is different from the jungle, it's still better than most options.

I imagine at first Max will struggle to adapt. He is used to have a lot of space to roam, to have trees to swing from, a whole different climate, a whole different diet. and now Daniel asks he wears at least underwear and a tshirt most of the time, he has to eat different foods, it rains so much less? where is the rain? how is he supposed to be clean if there is no river?

Daniel has to really help him through a lot. it helps that Max is learning to communicate more and more every day, but sometimes they bump into a new roadblock that they weren't expecting, and Daniel is reminded about how different Max's life has been so far. (would love to explore an overstimulated-by-electronic-noises max when i have more energy maybe. or a deeply-sad-because-where-is-my-jungle max)

But I think Max also really enjoys learning new things. He is delighted by some of the simplest things, which makes Daniel look at life in a different way too. How did he never realise how amazing forks and knives are? why does he think so little about how incredible it is to be able to make ice in his own freezer? the wonders of a ceiling fan???

I can picture Max spending long minutes just staring at things. Clocks, the washing machine, the fan, the turned off television, the kitchen sink tap. turning lights on and off. flushing the toilet over and over. And I can also picture him taking apart stuff and then (try to) put it back together, like the toaster (was never the same), the blender (was left with several pieces on the counter), the tv remote (tried to eat the buttons).

Max being terrified of Daniel's phone and then, when he gets used to it, absolutely fascinated by it. Asking so many questions about everything that Daniel doesn't know the answer to and forcing him to look them up because Max will simply not stop asking until he has a satisfying answer.

On the other hand, Max taking care of the vegetable garden and the animals. Being so incredible at it that it becomes mainly his job. They're different from the animals he's used to, but he is amazed by the chickens and loves them so much. Sometimes he likes to just sit with them and pet them softly. He becomes best friends with the donkey and the alpacas. maybe Daniel gets him bunnies and at first he's worried Max will kill them when he's hungry, but Max is so so gentle with them and loves them all so much.

And in all this, Max loves Daniel. He does his best to make Daniel food, gives him little "gifts" (eggs from the chickens, tomatoes from the garden, a clean sweater straight from the drier, a glass of water with clinking ice), curls up around him at night because he always refuses to sleep in his own bed. He's very protective of Daniel and gets upset when Daniel needs to leave the farm for errands or other things.

And Daniel shifts from I am very fond of this weird jungle boy to I would very much love to sleep in your arms for the rest of my life with a side of oh my god when is this beefy jungle guy gonna rail me. He sees how gentle and sweet and smart Max is, how quickly he learns about things and adapt to this new life, how interested he is about everything, how he takes care of Daniel, the farm, the animals, and can't help but fall in love with it all.

And the first time Daniel kisses Max at the farm, they're on the couch, Max watching something on the tv, almost without blinking, and Daniel watching Max. He calls his name and when Max turns (because Daniel will always be more important than anything else, even if the guy in the tv is cooking beef and Max is kind of hungry) Daniel kisses him. Max stays still for a bit and then when Daniel pulls back Max licks his cheek in response. It's not perfect, but Daniel can teach him. and Max always learns.

[undead-supernova]

HIGH TOLERANCE

Volcano Vaporizer / Masterlist

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

warnings: weed consumption, Steve (derogatory) (not to me, but in this canon sorry), jealous!reader out the whazoo, puke, drinking, horny thoughts, Annie Lennox's (Eurythmics) incredible song "Love Is a Stranger"

pairings: bestfriend!modern!eddie x bisexual!fem!reader

plot: it's everyone's downfall to desire jealousy to go both ways, isn't it?

wc: 5.8k

“What’re you up to?”

“Since you last asked me five minutes ago?”

“Yup.”

“Still trying to fix my toilet.” Eddie heard a bang. “Ow!”

“You good?”

“Just hit my head again. No big deal.”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. “I could’ve done it for you if you just, you know, asked.”

“You’re on your break and I kinda need to pee, you know.”

Eddie looked down at his BLT, arms smeared with grease. No amount of soap could take everything off, especially in his brown coveralls. (Plus, his black nail polish had almost been obliterated within the first hour of his shift.) (It was devastating.) He was reclined in the front seat of his van, legs stretched out against the passenger seat, the one he tried not to picture you in.

He thought about his uncle Wayne, how he would’ve been more than happy to come fix whatever the fuck you needed if he had moved here like Eddie wanted. Wayne just didn’t like how big it was, how daunting it would be to start that process over of getting a new home and a new job. It was something Eddie assured him wouldn’t be so bad, but Wayne merely shook his head and told him that he preferred the comfort of Hawkins. Though, Eddie wasn’t so sure if Hawkins and comfort really went together.

Wayne accidentally met you once, two years ago. He’d come for his first (and only) visit. You had accidentally fallen asleep the night before after binge watching Ted Lasso. And to be clear, you fell asleep on Eddie’s bed, not his couch. And to be fair, Eddie really thought you’d be gone by the time they got back from the airport. 

But when he went to show Wayne his bedroom and found you scrolling on your phone… Well.

You introduced yourself and made breakfast. Breakfast. You stayed through your horrible embarrassment in Eddie’s shirt (and boxers) and cooked for everyone. It had gone well, but after you left Eddie had to beg Wayne to believe him that you were just friends.

Even then, there was no way Wayne didn’t already know what Eddie was too scared to say aloud.

“I could always send someone.”

“Who?”

Eddie thought about it but ultimately came up short. “Uh, I don’t know. Someone.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “No, thanks. I think I’ve got it.”

“I’ll see you tonight, though.”

“Tonight?” you asked.

Eddie paused. “Uh, I’m performing tonight? At The Hidey-Hole?” He could hear you let out a low “Ohhhhhh” as he spoke. “I’m bringing that volcano thing…?”

“Oh, shit!” you exclaimed. “You’re right. Glad I can come then. Jesus, I’m sorry for forgetting. I really didn’t want to miss that.”

Eddie smiled. “No problem, Weirdo.” And for some reason, he genuinely began sweating as he started his next question. A proper sweat, starting in his armpits and the crown of his head, threatening to send trickles down his neck and torso. Fuck, he needed a shower.

“Is it cool that I invited Robin…and, uh, Steve?”

You paused. “No, yeah. It’s fine. Sure.”

It hadn’t been a long pause. But it was a pause, one of those that lasted a second too long. A short break in the conversation, a hesitance that held more than just a beat of silence. And now he was wondering what the fuck you were thinking.

“Did you go on that date?”

Eddie couldn’t stop the lump growing in his throat as the question came through. Did he really want to tell you of all people about his subpar date with Steve Harrington? 

But you were still his best friend. He really couldn’t keep it from you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“And…how was it?”

Taking another bite of his sandwich, he recounted the night more to himself than you, really. Because, yeah, Steve had been nice. Really nice. A gentleman in every way that mattered. But, to put it simply, it was just fucking boring.

“It went okay, I guess? I don’t know. Steve’s a really nice guy and he’s pretty funny. Good at mini-golf, too.”

“Don’t you, like, hate mini-golf?”

You were right. Eddie loathed mini-golf after an unfortunate accident. He was by the edge of the water, trying to hit the neon green ball into the mouth of a hippo. It was on some date with some girl he was trying to impress, and he was a little too forceful with his swing. He failed to even hit the ball, losing his grip on the putter before dropping it to the ground. Eddie took a step forward, accidentally stepping on the ball. Lost his footing. Fell in the water. Hit his head. Had to be taken to the ER for a couple of stitches. Lost the girl after she had to drive him home.

He felt so embarrassed when he tried to go back a few months later and saw they put up a fence around the water and a sign that said No Swimming. 

“Yes, but I never told him that story.”

You snorted. “Well, why not?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you didn’t want to play mini golf, why didn’t you say anything about it?”

“I don’t know, I guess I wanted to make him happy.”

He could hear you pause again. “So, are you guys, like dating?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a serious thing.” Was he trying to tell himself this or you? “But I guess we are.”

“Cool.”

Cool? What did you mean by cool? That was half of an opinion, half judgment. Or did you really not care? But you were the one who asked, weren’t you? Did it mean anything that he still wanted you to be jealous, to finally come clean about how you felt and denounce Steve’s advances? 

He looked at the time and sighed. “Shit, I gotta head back. Hold on while I down this BLT.”

“Okay.”

He stuffed the last of his sandwich in his mouth and washed it down with the rest of his Dr. Pepper. 

“OW!” you shouted again. “Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck! I hate this stupid thing!”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “Have fun with your broken toilet, Weirdo.”

“Yeah, yeah. Eat shit.”

You felt haunted by some kind of fucked up presence as you drove to that dive bar across the city. Knowing that your fears were confirmed… Well, it certainly wasn’t the best feeling, was it? Like the rejection before the rejection. The pre-game. The warmup. 

And you were always asking the wrong questions, weren’t you? Your mind was a pesky little thing, desperate for those deprecating answers to confirm every nightmare you’d had for the past two weeks. They were dating now. And maybe it wasn’t an official relationship yet, but casual dating led to dating and dating led to a relationship and a relationship led to the death of any and all chance with Eddie Munson.

“Love Is a Stranger” blasted through your speakers, the same song you sang at karaoke. The one where Eddie left the table to come and cheer you on, always being your biggest fan. He swayed, raising the roof ever so often to give an added effect. But… Well. What about Eddie and Steve’s performance? What about the way Eddie danced with him, getting closer than you’d ever seen them before?

Steve’s hands. The stumble. The nearly avoided kiss.

And you didn’t want to give in to the dangerous bitterness rising in you. You really didn’t.

But if you saw even a morsel of affection tonight, a mere kiss on the fucking cheek, you were going to throw up.

“'And I want you. And I want you. And I want you so, it’s an

obsession.'”

You groaned. “Get out of my head, Annie Lennox!”

But she, of course, couldn’t hear you. Instead, she was spending every second of that intoxicating beat teasing you, berating you. Making you wish that you’d stayed home tonight, bitter with a 10mg Delta-9 gummy, melting into the couch while watching Schitt’s Creek. At least there you could anxiously daydream about what was going to happen tonight and spiral down an endless well of what-ifs without having to see it. 

But you kept driving.

            “'It’s savage and it’s cruel and it shines like destruction.

            Comes in like a flood, and it seems like religion.

            It’s noble and it’s brutal, it distorts and deranges.

            And it wrenches you up and you’re left like a zombie.'”

You couldn’t help but let out another groan and skip the song.

“Fucking Annie Lennox,” you murmured.

When you got out of your car, you saw Eddie talking to Gareth, Grant, and Jeff over by his van, Gareth drumming against the pavement. Eddie was nodding along to the beat but turned at the sound of the car door, smile widening. It was like that anxiety dissipated, momentarily overwhelming you with a sense of calm and safety you always felt around him. It was so strange, the way he affected you.

“Look who it is,” you heard Grant say, hitting Jeff’s shoulder before pointing over at you.

“Eddie!” you called out before running over to him, trying to keep hold of your purse.

“Hurry up, Weirdo!” he exclaimed, arms spread wide, quick to catch and lift you into the air once you fell into him. 

It was so strange, the way he moved you.

You let out an exasperated “Ahhhh” as he moved you back and forth, shaking you a few times before putting you back down.

The rest of the band exclaimed your name, hooting and hollering, all rowdy and boyish.

“Lookin’ hot!” Jeff said, throwing you finger guns. You gave him a big smile.

“Yeah, you look so cool,” Eddie said once he had a chance to look you over. He took a step back, as if he were admiring art. Fuck. “The lucky fishnets?” he asked, pinching your thigh. You jumped, slapping his arm.

"Ow! Quit it!" But you still smiled, nodding feverishly. “To answer your question, yes. You know I had to wear ‘em.”

“Hell yeah, dude,” he replied, giving you a hearty high-five that stung. “It’s gonna be a good night.”

And you believed him. You really did.

“Hey, guys!” 

But you lost hope immediately, trying not to turn around at the sound of Steve’s voice. If there was anything that could ruin your night, it was Steve Harrington walking around drunk with loose lips and a penchant for physical affection.

Eddie waved. “What’s up!”

“Just here to rock out,” Robin responded. You turned and watched as she threw up her fingers in the sign of the horns. That made you laugh. She was trying her hardest and you respected that. You also respected how she wasn’t trying to fit in, in a forest green crop top and loose jeans. Her hands were stuffed in a dark jean jacket and had her hair up in a small bun. (In short, Robin was hot.)

“Hey, you look great!” Robin said to you, giving you a hug. “Love the lipstick.”

You were genuinely touched by the compliment. “Thanks, Robin. You look beautiful, as always.”

“Nice fishnets,” Steve noted, pointing to your legs.

You finally faced him, eyes widening when you took in his appearance. Steve was trying harder too, in a Panic! at the Disco Death of a Bachelor album t-shirt and jeans, with a chain in exchange for a belt. If it wasn’t him, that would look stupid. But it was Steve Harrington. He looked cool.

“Um, thank you,” you replied with a small smile.

Steve saluted you before poking Robin. “You should keep Rob company tonight. She invited Vickie, but she got stuck at work.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “And? It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. She has a life outside of me.”

Robin looked like she was telling the truth. She genuinely wasn't that upset about it. But Steve couldn't help but take things a little too far.

“Yeah, but you’re like in love with her, dude—"

“Am not! Shut up!”

“Yeah, Harrington,” Eddie agreed. “Let the girl live.”

Steve turned to you again, making your eyes widen. Was Steve wearing a little bit of eyeliner? Did he really put in this much effort to impress Eddie?

“What about you?” he asked. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Without a singular thought about consequences, you said, “Um, well, I’m going on a date tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Robin asked, narrowing her eyes. You knew she was suspicious from the get-go. “That’s very…soon.”

“You didn’t mention it on the phone earlier,” Eddie stated, turning his full attention to you now. You knew he was hurt. You saw it immediately. 

“Oh, yeah, well. We just made the plans like an hour ago and—so, yeah. They’re really cool.”

“That’s great, though,” Steve said, throwing a hand up to high-five you. You glanced over at Eddie’s seemingly blank expression before giving Steve the most pathetic high-five of your life. “You’ve been single the entire time I’ve known you. That’s awesome. Congrats.”

Before you could say anything, Grant was cutting in. “What about you and Eddie, huh?” he asked, smirking over at Steve.

No. No, no, no. Please no. You didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t need to.

But you did.

“Oh, yeah!” Steve laughed, pointing at Eddie. Eddie who was looking away, fiddling with something. Probably his lighter. He was always playing with that thing. 

You turned your attention back to Steve, bracing yourself for the impact.

“Eddie’s been so fun to go on dates with. Seriously, this guy is like a master at mini-golf.” You shot Eddie a look, noticing how he was already glancing over at you nervously. “I can never get the ball through those tiny slots and, seriously dude, you got through that windmill on the first try. It’s unbelievable.”

“That’s awesome,” you said, smiling mischievously. Eddie gave you a look, rolling his eyes. “Eddie’s just a natural at everything. Pinball, D&D, air hockey, and now mini-golf.”

Eddie groaned and you could tell he wanted you to shut up. “I just have a lot of interests. It’s really not that big of a deal.” He let out a small huff before pointing at the band. “Alright, you all go back inside with these two,” he turned to point at Robin and Steve, “because we,” now the finger was on you, “are going to take dabs.”

Everyone laughed at his finger-turned-compass before waving their goodbyes and heading off. The two of you watched everyone file through the door before Eddie turned to you and patted your shoulder.

“Come here, Weirdo. Got something special for ya.”

As he led you over to his van, you noticed his hand brushing your back. You wished he kept snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you in and playing with the lace. Fiddle with it to his heart’s content and give him a reason to keep touching you. Keep getting closer. Even if he was opening the back door of the van and pulling out a device, he could always keep you guys in there. Keep you close, whispering in the dark. Keep his fingers on your dress…

“Alright,” he said, clapping and rubbing his hands together. You shook the image out of your head. “So, I brought this thing called a Volcano Vaporizer. It’s, like, this thing where I put this plastic bag right here and when I melt the wax, it fills the bag with smoke, right?” You nodded, watching him work. “And then I put this orange mouthpiece on and, boom, you just suck the dab out. It’ll give us about three bags which will probably be more than enough.”

“Even for you?”

He smirked. “Even for me.”

“Sick,” you said.

“Here,” he said once it filled up. “First half is yours, humble cleric.”

Snorting, you shook your head. “Always the gentleman.”

You pressed your lips down on the mouthpiece and took it in slow, filling your lungs to the best of your ability. The taste wasn’t even half bad, similar to a regular bong hit, just with a little twist from being wax instead of bud. And the strangest thing happened when you blew out the air: You didn’t cough. Any time you took a dab, you coughed and hacked and lost your mind. Puffcos were your absolute enemy. But this…

“This is the smoothest dab I’ve ever taken,” you said.

He nodded, taking the bag from you and finishing off the first batch. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“How’d you get this?”

“Uh, I won it in a poker game against one of my dealers,” he said as he filled a second bag and took a hit. “I may have cheated, but he doesn’t know that.” You laughed. “It’s usually $700 or some shit like that.”

“An impeccable man,” you teased, taking the half-full bag. “Incredible work, Munson.”

You sucked in the rest of the dab and let the smoke out, noticing Eddie’s eyes directly on you. Reciprocating the eye contact, you grew confused when he didn’t break it at all. In fact, he seemed so much closer than before.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked.

“Looking at you like what?”

You nudged him. “Like that.”

“What’s their name?”

“Huh?”

“The person you’re going on the date with.”

“Gertrude,” you said without thinking. You swallowed down the urge to bash your head against the side of the van as you realized how utterly stupid you sounded. But you had to commit now. That was the only way out of this. You could only hope Eddie was dumb enough to believe you. “Their name is Gertrude.”

“Gertrude?” Eddie repeated. You nodded. “Sounds cool.”

Sounds cool? Sounds cool? That wasn’t supposed to be his response. Why wasn’t he calling you out for lying? Why wasn’t he exposing you for having a fat crush on him and throwing all of this stupid middle school behavior aside? But even if he did believe you, he was supposed to at least look a little upset by it. In fact, he looked more upset about you not telling him than he did with the fake ass name you made up. It was unbearable. You didn’t want this anymore.

Without hesitation, you reached out to grab his hand. You needed to feel him close, needed to feel the way you always did in his grasp. Safe. Understood. And here you were, seconds from meeting his open palm and saying to hell with all of these stupid games. To hell with keeping everything concealed. There was no Gertrude. There shouldn’t be a Steve. It was just you. It was just him. You were all his.

But there Eddie was, looking away from you and back towards Gareth at the door, waving him over. Eddie gave him a salute in turn.  

“Alright, Weirdo,” he said, patting your knee. He hadn’t even noticed your hand lying limp against your thigh. “I gotta go perform. Finish this for me?” he asked, handing you the rest of his dab. You nodded, giving him the best tight-lipped smile you could without giving away your disappointment. “Alright, don’t forget to lock the van and, oh, by the way, don’t be long. Gotta have my biggest fan in the front row.”

“Like always.”

“Like always.”

It was actually a really good turnout tonight. Corroded Coffin had finally gotten a spot to play on a Saturday which was a very big deal. The Hidey-Hole may have been a dive bar, but in Atlanta terms, that still meant it was packed on the weekends. At first it had been twenty people, twenty-five tops. Then fifty flooded the space with a bouncer and a line at the door and suddenly Eddie realized how important this was for the band.

So why was it that he couldn’t pay attention?

He couldn’t help but think about you, about this fucking person you were going on a date with. Would you find yourself wanting more? With a cool name like Gertrude, maybe you would. Eddie couldn’t help but flip through facial features and imaginings of who this person was and how their voice sounded and how it would feel if he saw you being kissed by someone else.

And, sure, Eddie was going on dates with Steve. But they hadn’t kissed or anything like that. Eddie wasn’t even sure he wanted to kiss Steve. Steve was pretty—extremely pretty. The kind of pretty that made any boy swoon, and all the girls lose their minds. But Steve just wasn’t someone Eddie wanted to kiss. 

Because you were screaming your head off in the front, jumping and dancing around to his music while Steve stood in the back and bopped his head. You knew every word, every note. You played an air guitar along with him, head banging your way through the set and pointing up at him whenever they got to a part that you really liked. He always shared his lyrics with you first, always shocked when you’d memorize them and squeal about your favorite lines.

He couldn’t help but smile at you, as lost in the music as he was. You were wearing one of his (secret) favorite dresses, a black lace babydoll dress with what you called your lucky fishnets. Specifically, the ones with you wore to whatever gig you could make it to. (Every gig you showed up to always drew in a larger crowd. How you did that, he couldn’t say. He did call you a witch once.)

Tonight, your eyes were lined in black with silver eye shadow and a deep burgundy lipstick. A lover of black, but you always wore it with a smile. Maybe the happiest semi-goth he’d ever met. He loved it—no, more than that. He went absolutely feral for it. It made his heart skyrocket, his mouth run a little dryer than usual. And when he was high like this, tingling with the vibrations of his Sweetheart, he prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t get a boner onstage. 

But he could see your dress riding up to reveal that your lucky fishnets came attached to garters and Sweetheart was adding juuuuust enough friction and suddenly he had to look away from you, too embarrassed that he fucking popped a boner in front of all these people, that he popped a boner in front of you, with only Sweetheart to keep his secret.

He looked back over to Steve, testing himself. Was Steve able to do the same thing? Could he ruin Eddie on this stage tonight and turn him into a mumbling fool in his bedroom later when he got himself off? 

But…there was nothing. Steve was talking to Robin and offhandedly looked at his phone. Eddie could even see him scrolling. He may have been swaying to the beat, but he was barely paying attention. It hurt Eddie’s feeling, just not in a way that would come from a potential lover.

In the end, he realized there really was only one person he wanted to kiss.

And she was currently going on dates with someone else.  

That Volcano truly did what it set out to do. You were seeing color after color, the room swirling around you in vibrant shades of red and black. It was all fuzzy and pixelated, vibrating within you. You were being taken on an overwhelming journey, but in a way that was calming. Eddie was right in front of you, giving it his all and basically staring at you the entire time. Or from what you could tell in between dancing and the room spinning you in circles like a merry-go-round.

And, holy hell, Eddie was so fucking hot when he performed. It burned, literally burned inside of you, slowly spreading between your legs. It was all Eddie’s fault, with his bangs sticking to his forehead and sweat rolling down his cheeks like teardrops. In every guitar solo, he bit his lip so hard that you could’ve sworn you saw him draw blood. His fingers hit note after note, charging up and down the neck of his electric guitar. Those hands which, ever so sweetly, used to fit right in yours. 

The callouses on the tips of his left hand, the ones that scratched at your palms whenever you held it. It was always rougher after band practice or when he came down from his apartment twenty minutes late after needing to perfect one of his wicked solos—like the one he was performing now. 

Those hands that you thought about sliding in between your thighs. Opening you up. Teasing you for wearing a garter belt to hold up your fishnets. Leaving little bites along your neck as he questioned why those were so lucky in the first place and asking you how lucky you thought you’d get tonight.

You had to make yourself stop thinking about it, trying to dance your desire away.

But you looked up at Eddie who was looking down at you. And there was something in his eyes, something blown out and downright dirty. You couldn’t help but stare back, giving him a wicked grin before moving your hips around. And if you made sure he could see your garter belt, well, maybe you didn’t care anymore. 

Because you saw his face go red and a smile meet his lips and suddenly you were thinking that maybe there was something more there. ‘Cause he wasn’t looking at Steve. He was looking at you. And when he finished his final belt of the night, he didn’t throw his guitar pick at Steve. He threw it at you.

“Oh em gee, is that Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin?”

Eddie turned with a grin, watching you comically twisting your foot and pretending to be bashful.

“Hey, you a fan?”

You nodded, batting your eyes. “I’m, like, your biggest fan. You’re so talented. Can I get your autograph?”

He smiled, nodding generously. “Of course, of course. Anything for my fans.”

Giggling, you dropped your act and hugged him. Even at his sweatiest, you never cared. It wasn’t like you weren’t sweaty from dancing all night. “In all seriousness, you were great. Like always.”

“Ah, thanks,” he replied, placing his chin on your head briefly before pulling back. “I really do appreciate it. You were killing it in the crowd.”

You smirked, placing your hands on your hips. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you give it your all every fucking time.”

You did a little dance as you teetered from side-to-side. “It’s so much fun! I can’t wait for the day you can play somewhere where we can mosh, ‘cause I’ll be the one to start it.”

“You think you’ll be able to handle it?” he teased.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Fuck yes I will. I’ll be bloody and gross by the end of it and it’ll be awesome. I swear, you underestimate—"

“Whoo!”

You both turned, watching Steve jog over. And as he approached, you felt all happiness drain from your limbs.

Because Steve had a wide smile on his face and he was fist bumping the air and he was drawing near, excitement flooding his features with flushed cheeks and sweat beading on his forehead and—

Steve kissed Eddie.

He actually kissed him.

And you couldn’t focus on any of the details. 

No, you weren’t going to keep torturing yourself like that.

So, you just…left.

Eddie pushed Steve back.

“What the hell was that, Harrington?”

Steve laughed. “Can I not kiss you?”

“I mean. I don’t—” Eddie sighed, shaking his head. He looked around the room for you, immediately having the urge to apologize. “I don’t know, man. Sorry.” 

“Listen, I think what you did up there was very, very sexy,” Steve said loudly, placing a finger on Eddie’s chest. 

Raising an eyebrow, Eddie simply nodded. “Uh, yeah, dude. Thanks.”

“Did you wanna get a snack at that diner after you pack up? We could even grab the girls and hang.”

Eddie really wanted to find you instead. He wanted to know if you saw Steve kiss him and if you really thought they were something more. He wanted to ask more about whoever this Gertrude was and if there was a reason you kept this from him until tonight. More than anything else, he wanted to know if you were okay.

But you just…left.

Your head was spinning, and it wasn’t going to be long before you completely broke down. A pool of nausea rested in your stomach, bubbling up your throat by the second. You made your way out of the bar, the humid air doing nothing to help. Tears collected in your eyes, threatening to spill over and smear your eyeliner even more than it already had during the show. Maybe it didn’t fucking matter anymore. 

The door opened behind you; Robin’s voice heard above the music as she called out your name. You turned then, pausing as she ran over. 

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

You nodded, but it felt more like a shrug than anything else. “Yeah, I’m good. Just need to leave.” Trying to conceal the sniffle, you scuffed your Converse against the gravel. “Steve and Eddie are back inside. Maybe y’all can go out or something.”

“Without you?”

When you finally made eye contact with Robin, you knew she understood. She was giving you that look, the one that called bullshit without having to actually verbalize it. She knew that you knew. You knew that she knew. 

“I’m actually feeling nauseous, so I think I should go home.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah—” you started before leaning over and puking onto a tree. 

Well, nothing was going to sober you up more than that.

You felt Robin’s hands making sure your hair didn’t get in your face. 

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

You nodded as you stood up again. “Yeah, it’s probably the dab.”

Robin crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at you. “You know, Eddie said you felt sick the other week, too.” 

You looked at her with narrowed eyes. Saying nothing, you wiped the vomit from your mouth. Just say it, Robin,you thought bitterly. Just fucking get it over with. Call me out. I dare you.

“Maybe you should, I don’t know, do something about it,” she said, shrugging. “Say something.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her coded sentence. “Yeah, maybe. Thanks, Robin. Have fun with Eddie and Steve. I’ll see you later.”

Rushing off to your car, you tried to keep your sobs from spilling out from your mouth. And if anyone saw you, well, you couldn’t quite seem to care anymore.

Steve and Robin kept the conversation going as they sat in the little 24/7 diner down the street from The Hidey-Hole. Eddie was bored out of his mind. Robin told him that you got sick from the dab and decided to go home. And, sure, that might be the reason you left. But in the middle of a sentence? In the middle of a conversation? Without saying goodbye?

It wasn’t like you at all.

Eddie tried to focus on shoveling eggs and hash browns into his mouth, washing everything down with black coffee and a helping of chocolate milk. The high was coming down with each bite. He didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t fun if you weren’t there to tell him you didn’t want chocolate milk before stealing his. It wasn’t fun if you weren’t ordering two plates of food and swearing you would finish everything before begging him to eat half of it. 

It just wasn’t fun without you.

Steve nudged him. Eddie looked up reluctantly. He wanted to say something snarky and rude about how Steve was barely paying attention and how stupid it was for him to pretend he had when he kissed him. He wanted to scream at Steve that you were more engaged than he was and what excuse did he have when they were supposed to be going out. He wanted to push his way out of the booth and go track you down.

Instead, he asked, “What?”

Steve pointed up at himself. “Did you like the eyeliner? I think it added a nice touch.”

That had been the first time Eddie even noticed. “Oh, yeah. Yeah,” he stumbled, scrambling for a white lie. “It looks good, dude.”

Eddie didn’t last much longer after that. He waited for the waitress to come by, nearly begging her for his check and getting the fuck out of there before Steve and Robin could suggest going with him. He stalked back to his van, the band already packed up and gone for the night.

With a sense of false hope, he looked over at the spot your car had been in, now taken by someone else. 

Maybe he should’ve ran outside to find you before you slipped away.

When he started out of the parking lot, he could’ve turned on something heavy. Something to make his ears bleed and the fuzz to distract from the incessant thunder and lightning in his head. 

Instead, he searched for that song you sang at karaoke. That Eurythmics one that you adored so much, always a sucker for some dark Eighties-esque synth. The strength of the lead singer, all tough and frustrated before saying the most bittersweet shit he’d ever heard. 

And so, he listened to it, weaving through the streets and banging on his steering wheel with every red light. Road rage turning the thunder and lightning into something more intense, something more vicious. He couldn’t help but wish his lips were on yours as he thanked you for wearing your fishnets and desperately clawed at the garters underneath your dress. Worshipping you in the hush of the night. Without Robin. Without Steve. Without fucking Gertrude.

“And I want you. And I want you. And I want you so it’s an

obsession.”

The lines kept repeating themselves, over and over with each chorus. Echoing his feelings, ruining him from ever escaping these fucking thoughts of something else. A future, a moment in time where he had you and everything was allowed to make sense again. 

“Annie Lennox,” he said, sighing and clucking his tongue. “Fucking Annie Lennox.”

When you stepped inside your apartment that night, you couldn’t help but let out a scream, walking over to the kitchen table and kicking a chair over. Tears slid down your cheeks, gushing and spilling over. None of this was how it was supposed to be. None of this made any fucking sense anymore.

Eddie didn’t want you. He never did.

He wanted Steve. And you didn’t have to like it, but god dammit you had to endure it.

It was so strange, the way he could break you.

You fell to the floor, trying to physically hold yourself together. But you could feel the guitar pick still in the pocket of your dress, growing heavier by the second. You pulled it out and tried to look at it through the tears, accidentally smearing eyeliner on the damn thing.  

Annie Lennox’s voice sat in your skull, repeating her demented lyrics over and over.

            “It’s guilt edged, glamorous, and sleek by design.

            You know it’s jealous by nature, false and unkind. 

            It’s hard and restrained and it’s totally cool.

            It touches and it teases as you stumble in the debris.

            And I want you.”

[ddejavvu]

hii! i'm absolutely OBSESSED with your fairy!reader x hotch fic and i'd like to request a sequel?? perhaps where her house gets properly destroyed and he has to take her home with him so he can make her a new one? and she helps him around the house and he starts to realise he really likes her and doesn't want her to leave?? idk whatever you want to write but i just adore the fairy au so much ugh <3 <3

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

thanks so much! i love it too <3 I couldn't fit all of that in one blurb but I've gotten many more requests for another part so I'll use one of those for the next part :) / part 1

--

The unsub doesn't come easily. Even with backup, Morgan, JJ, and Blake all surrounding him, he fires one last shot into the forest, triggering everyone else's instincts to shoot. He gets shuffled into an ambulance with a guard, bleeding from his right leg.

Hotch's brain is fuzzy, like it always is after taking down an unsub. Call it a post-adrenaline crash, call it fatigue, call it the fairy he'd seen on the way in, but whatever it was, he trudges back the way he'd come with drooping shoulders and a foggy head.

Then his foot crunches on something that isn't a stick, and he looks down curiously.

It's wood. It's wood with a bullet hole in it, splintered away from other panels. Oh shit, it's your house.

Fear pricks at his heart. Five minutes after he'd met a fairy, and you're dead? But there's no fairy guts that he can see, no pink shimmery blood smeared over the wood, so he looks wildly around at the trees nearby.

"Hotch?" Morgan calls, a few steps ahead, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Hotch pants, a gust of air from his chest that feels tight at your disappearance, "Nothing, I think I dropped my badge in the scuffle. Go ahead, I'll catch up."

He makes back towards the scene of the shooting, and Morgan knows better than to disobey orders, even if he wants to.

Aaron stumbles through the wooded ground, waiting until the voices of his teammates fade into the background. He casts one wary glance behind him, but Morgan is nowhere to be found, and he heads back for your tree. It's easy to find now that there's broken wood around, but you're not.

"Hey," He calls into the woods, voice soft enough so that you can hear it from a nearby tree, but no one else can.

"Hey, are you there?"

He hears a vague sniffle up and to his left, and he turns his whole body with the clumsy vigor of a toddler.

His neck aches as he cranes it up into the tree he'd heard you in. Sure enough, your small, glowing face is peering out from behind a thick branch, arms wrapped desperately around the limb while you grieve your fallen home.

"It's broken," You whimper, and Hotch is surprised he can hear your quiet voice, "I was just getting new bedding, 'cause mine got blown away when my house got knocked down. But then I heard that awful noise, and- and it's gone!"

"I know," Hotch murmurs, voice like silky sympathy, "I'm sorry. I- I can't- there's nothing I can do to fix it. All I have is my gun."

"I don't like those," You blubber, wiping a shimmering teardrop from your eye, "Please don't use that."

"I won't." He promises, "Where will you live?"

"I don't know," You gush, raw emotion shaking your voice like an earthquake, "A little boy made that for me years ago, he was the only other person I've ever talked to. But now- now he's gone, and he can't make me a new one, and all the good hidey holes are already occupied, and-!"

You burst into sobs, and Aaron eyes the lower branches of your tree with apprehension. Slowly, but surely, he grabs hold of a higher limb, testing his weight on the lowest bough.

It brings him just below your level, and you peer down at him through teary, curious eyes.

"Come with me," He offers, after quick deliberation. He holds one hand out, the other tightening around the tree branch as he offers you his palm.

"What?" You rub at one of your eyes, voice pitiful, "Where?"

"Back to my house." He puts his hand even closer to your feet, "A little boy lives with me. My son. He can make you a new house."

"Really?" You peer at him with a hopeful shimmer in your eyes, wings fluttering slightly, "You'd let me come home with you?"

"It's the least I can do," Aaron reasons, "And I'm sure my son will love having a fairy in the house."

That's what earns him the soft pitter-patter of your feet in his palm, then the way you softly flump down into a cross-legged sit there. He lowers you to his chest, keeping his hand pressed there as he then lowers himself. Once his feet are back on the ground, he wonders where to put you. But you've thought ahead, apparently, because you slip between his kevlar vest and his shirt, nestling yourself snugly in his chest pocket.

You're a little squished, but you grin up at him with red-rimmed, grateful eyes.

"Thank you," You lean your head against his chest, and Aaron can barely feel it, "I'm glad I talked to you earlier."

"Me too," Aaron bites back a smile, trudging back towards the rest of his team, once-foggy brain now occupied with the thought: And not just for the directions you gave me.

[kissagii]

Yo! I have a doozy of a request >:)

Okay mha, aizawa, with an adult son/daughter (idk the gender neutral term. Child?? I think it's child?) Who is a hero overseas and one day DIES.

Aizawa hears it some how, goes into grieving, and then...

Reader just shows up... in his house... raiding his fridge (but make it funny)

It turns out reader had to fake their death to go undercover to kick some villans butt and they needed to lay low for a while so they came back home.

Comfort angst-turned Crack!

got it! i loved this concept, it's so amazing <3 <3 <3

i don't think i went crazy enough with the comedy because for some reason i felt like a more wholesome route would work better

safe and sound

aizawa x child!reader ; wc. 0.9k

cw: cursing, reader is presumed dead, it's a lil graphic, not proofread

There were times when Aizawa Shota regretted becoming a father. This was one of them. He knew that his profession put his child in danger of losing a parent at any moment, but he promised himself every day that he would return home safely for their sake. It was what kept him going. But what he had never expected was that he would be the one to lose someone so dear to his heart in a hero mission.

Aizawa was in the middle of a nap when Kaminari shouted the news. “OH MY GOD, THE X-TEAM VANISHED!”

Aizawa knew that team all too well: it was your team.

“Give me that,” He muttered, taking Kaminari’s phone from his hand and skimming through the article. 

X-Team… heroes sent abroad… villain ambush… notorious killers… location unknown… heroes vanished… presumed dead. He reread those last few words. “All heroes presumed dead.” It couldn’t be - it just couldn’t. You had to be alive… you had to.

In that moment, as he sobbed on the floor of his classroom, Aizawa Shota wished he had never encouraged you to be a hero, never let you join the agency known for taking on the most brutal internatonal missions, never taken in a child with such immense potential only for that potential to be cut short in such a terrible accident.

Weeks of searching were to no avail. Try as they might, international heroes could find nothing regarding the X-Team’s location, not a piece of clothing, or a message, or a villain that might spill. Until they found the bodies. Three of them, young adults, disfigured beyond identifiability. But one of them lined up with you - same height, build, gender, age… and clearly the victim of the villains you were chasing. For all Aizawa knew, it was you.

Aizawa Shota is a tired man. He always has been. But weeks of sleepless nights, long days of worrying, and the nightmares… it took a toll on him. He was barely functioning as a teacher and as a hero. Only pure exhaustion would make him sleep, and what little rest he got would never last. So it was no surprise when he, having not slept in days, hallucinated a person in his house.

Illuminated only by the light of the fridge (which, he noticed, had been largely emptied of its contents), the imaginary person turned to him and waved, mouth full of food.

“‘Ello!” They said, grinning. Aizawa knew that voice. That was your voice.

“Oh god… I’m losing it,” He muttered to himself, “I’m fucking hallucinating.”

“But you’re not though? Waittt are there two of me? Or a shadow demon in the corner? HI SHADOW DEMON!!” 

Perhaps it really was you - his child, the little creature he raised from nothing, his reason for living and the most amazing person in his life. 

“Ah, shit, you probably think I’m dead, don’t you? Long story short it was a whole scheme, our cover got blown so we had to hide for a while, the villains wanted to make it look like they killed us, we got in undercover with some reinforcements and they took forever to get to us, then all of a sudden we get out of our hidey hole and everyone thinks we’re dead? I dunno, it was pretty wild though. Sorry for spookin’ you… but we got the job done so it’s fine, right?”

Your father collapsed into your arms. Your very solid, very real, very alive arms. For weeks it had seemed hopeless, like he’d truly lost you. But all that time… all that time you were working diligently, making the best of your situation, the dedicated child he loved so much. Home at last, safe.

“Dad? Daaaaad. There’s really no need to cry, I’m fine! Yeah it was messy, but hey, it all turned out fine! It always does, doesn’t it?” Though you complained, you missed your father. Two months away from home, one of which was spent cut off from most of the world, took a toll on you too.

“Kiddo… you can’t just scare me like that,” Whatever strength he had left was put entirely into the rib-cracking embrace he gave you, tears soaking into your shirt, “I thought you were dead. I thought I lost you.”

“Hey dad, do you remember what you told me when I was little?” He nodded. “How I wasn’t allowed to worry about you when you went on missions because you’d always find a way back to me? Well, now that I’ve gone pro, I think it’s time that bargain went both ways. Because our silly little family - Auntie Kamaya, Uncle Yamada, those other kids you adopted from UA, you, and me - we’ll stick together.”

Aizawa let go of you, placing his hands firmly on your shoulders and looking into your eyes, “Yeah… I’ll try not to worry. Now I’m going to sleep… and you’d better have the fridge reorganized by the time I wake up.”

“Reorganized, restocked, and breakfast on the table. For all the stress I caused you,” You promised as he trudged to his room. Now, there was only one issue between you and seet, sweet sleep - how the hell were you going to get groceries to make breakfast if the whole country thought you were dead???

©king-of-dreamers 2022

[lollipencil]

Q&A and Comfort

A little piece based on Prompt 5, so read that first for context.

For additional context, this would be post-series and post-Jake reveal (and post-Marc and Steven reveal for Jake). Steven would find this little book in Marc's old hidey-hole and, upon seeing that there is only questions inside, he and Marc choose to answer them as best they can.

Jake is standard text, Steven is italics, and Marc is Bold

Enjoy and be gentle

---

Why did I used to wake up shackled to the bed? Sorry, thought I was sleep-walking.

Is it normal to not remember why I'm standing outside in the rain? That would likely be because of us.

Where have my car keys gone? They're somewhere safe, you can have them back once you talk to us.

Have they disposed of my car? No, it's still in the garage where you left it.

Why are they here? It's not exactly by choice, mate.

Who are they? I'm Steven! Marc

Who was that woman who hurt me when I was young? mom Our egg donor.

When was I born? The body was born the ninth of March 1987. Individually, we were kind of hoping you'd know.

How was I born? We'd be better off talking more directly about this.

Why did I wake up in a warzone once? That was you?

Why do I keep waking up to people trying to kill me?

Are they going to try to kill me too?

Does touch always hurt? No.

Why can I never make friends?

Why can't I remember being a teenager?

Who was that woman I sometimes wake up to? Layla.

Is she going to hurt me? No, she will never hurt you.

How come I know how to drive? No clue. Actually, how did I know to drive that one time?

What does a burger taste like? Like the best damn thing in the world, especially with cheese.

What do enchiladas taste like? Pretty good, so long as you get them from the right place.

What does chocolate taste like? Like a hug. Depends on the type of chocolate.

Are they going to trap me inside, now that they've found me?

Was that what that darkness was?

Why can't I have a life? Only snatches of time?

Is the world not big enough for me to live? It is big enough, buddy, it is. We just didn't know you were here. But if you'd like, we can help make space for you.

The next time you're awake, please don't hide from us. I know that you're probably feeling a bit scared, but we just want to help. Will you let us? ok.

[cal-writes]

well dragon age gameplay trailer made me go through some old wips. this is from an au where hawke and varric never met in kirkwall and varric hated her

-

Only Hawke’s quick reaction saved him from landing face first in the snow. She grabbed a hold of his arm when the powdery snow slipped out from under his feet. He grunted as he regained his balance with her hand steadying him.

“Not used to Ferelden weather, are you?” She asked, voice hinting at humor. Since their last encounter Hawke was still cautious around him. Not that Varric could blame her.

“Lived my entire life in Kirkwall, barely left the city. So no, I’m not.” He grit out and focused on his footing.

In front of them the Inquisitor chatted with Alistair while Blackwall remained a clear distance behind them. Whatever for, Varric wasn’t sure. He had been of the impression that Blackwall would have enjoyed the company of another Warden. But sometimes people were more complicated than that.

“So, you being from Ferelden was the truth then.” He said.

“I came with other refugees, why would I lie about that?” She replied. Her tone was neutral but Varric wasn’t fooled. He was stepping on thin ice. Not literally, he hoped. It was hard to tell if under the snow was hard ground or vengeful rivers.

“Just curious what I got wrong, is all.” Varric shrugged. “Anywhere in particular?”

“I thought you were only interested in my Kirkwall years.” Hawke said, more defensive now.

Varric discovered that it was hard to be nonchalant when one was panting their way up a hill. “Just trying to see the whole picture. Past defines us and all that nonsense.”

Hawke sighed heavily. She wasn’t even out of breath. It came from being on the run, he figured.

“We lived all over. Never stayed anywhere longer than we did in Kirkwall though.” She told him.

“Sorry about that.” He said but this time she shrugged it off.

“I figured it wouldn’t last. It never does. Living as an apostate isn’t the best occupation for settling down.” She explained and for Varric it was hard to fathom. He had been so attached to all his things back home. The furniture in the Hanged Man, the Hanged Man itself, the people, knowing all the hidey holes in the city. Even his stupid brother he had been attached to. All things he couldn’t stuff into a pack and walk away with. Seeing how Hawke carried the one of her back, made him wonder what she thought important enough to carry with her.

“Must be hard.” He said. As hard as climbing up this mountain was for him, at the least. He couldn’t imagine doing this every day. The way Hawke did it with ease, either spoke from regularity or her long legs were more of an advantage then he thought.

“You want to know my tragic backstory? I thought you would try to pry it out of me a lot smoother.” She concealed a smile under a huff, breath curling in front of her lips.

“Worth a shot.” He grinned.

“Short story: Moved a lot, dad died before the Blight, sister killed by Darkspawn, mother killed by lunatic, brother killed by lunatic. Now I live the luxurious life of a fugitive.”

“Sounds very tragic to me. Great material.” He slipped again and this time he grabbed onto her arm before she could even react. Varric cursed and looked up the mountain. At least Skyfall was visible now but it was still going to be a long day. “You staying long?”

“No. Alistair and I are going to stop for supplies and rest for the night, then we’ll head on to Orlais.” She kept hold on his arm for a few more feet before she was satisfied with his progress enough that she led him go.

Right, the Western Approach. “At least it’ll be warmer there.”

“I don’t mind the cold. Must be all those years in Ferelden.”

“Must be.”

[pancakefanfics]

CotL fanfic idea

Based off my spouse getting Narinder in their current game and him being a coward. Long outline.

Fic starts immediately after Narinder is defeated. Maybe in a dream-like space as he thinks about what has transpired, all the things he thought would come of the Prophecy finally being fulfilled, and how everything that was so close to his reach just slipped through his fingers

Thinking about the lamb, and what he knows of their journey. How powerful they’ve gotten. And how effortlessly they seemed to strike down not only him, but Aym and Baal too. Now he’s completely stripped of his powers, and at the mercy of his former disciple. And that thought is…terrifying.

Coward trait gained.

He comes out of this dream-like state being treated for wounds sustained during the fight and absolutely terrified of everything around him. The other followers, the Lamb. He’s weak and powerless now.

He inevitably starts hiding around the grounds. Other followers (especially the jerks and the hot-tempered ones) see him as an easy target, and he’s picked on a lot.

Lamb doesn’t notice at first. They’ve got their own shit to do, between babies being nurtured, quests, and sermons. But maybe a few days in they notice Narinder scurrying off after a sermon and decide to follow him. A little hidey-hole he made for himself in a bush, away from everyone.

And of course Narinder is scared shitless when he realizes the Lamb followed him. Tries to run away, but the Lamb catches him, confused. “I’m sorry please don’t hurt me I wasn’t doing anything in here just sitting please just let me go and I’ll go do something productive-“

And the Lamb is just so confused because Narinder was so strong and ruthless and now he’s practically crying because they found him hiding. “Narinder please calm down I’m not going to hurt you you’re safe here”

Lamb starting to reassure Narinder every day, and does not treat followers that try to abuse him kindly. “You are all my children and you shouldn’t be so mean to one another. I want you to love each other and to make those new to our little community feel at home.” They say as a tentacle wraps tighter around one of the offender’s throats.

Everyone starts acting kinder. Narinder feeling more and more accepted by the community around him. Forming somewhat of a friendship with the Lamb as he regains his old personality.

But also Narinder being confused as fuck about some of the shit in the community. Because I’m definitely just keeping some game mechanics in just because.

“Lamb why do you have an egg.” “Oh Gerbre and Thorjul just made it!” “…that is a cow and a dog. Neither of those animals lay eggs or should be able to breed with one another.” “Oh really? Huh. Didn’t know that.” “This isn’t how biology works how tf-“ “its because I wanted them to have a baby to make the cult grow! It was my divine grace that blessed their mating to create a beautiful egg.” Narinder stops questioning, just avoids going to the mating tent. Partially because he’s just not interested in anyone there.

Followers proposing to the Lamb and them declining. The more they spend time with Narinder the more they find themselves falling for him, especially as he gets more of his personality back. Is pretty sure they’ll have more luck winning him over if they’re not married to another follower.

So slow burn, enemies to lovers, maybe a little cracky with some OOC things. And of course it’s NariLamb. No thoughts for how they’d get together or anything. Probably be fluffy, no fight scenes really. I just think they’re cute.

[ohbo-ohno]

https://www.tumblr.com/ohbo-ohno/729211936036765696/httpswwwtumblrcomohbo-ohno729206658953347072

Johnny scares you out of hiding, only for you to stumble right into Simon :((( they were 95% certain you’re blind, but now they know 100%, and Johnny is just absolutely gleeful about it, begging Simon to keep you bc wouldn’t he love having such a pretty little thing entirely dependent on them??

🌚 (I could go all night with this)

you should go all night with this. sorry for the slow response btw im watching rpdr again

original ask for this

you're sooo scared, and made even more scared by the fact that you can't see anything, can only hear what they choose to let you.

maybe there's another little entrance to your spot, one simon positions him at. johnny gets his hands rammed into your hidey hole, is able to just brush his fingers against you and get you screaming and scrambling away. you sort of fumble along the walls of your hiding spot, end up falling out into the open air unintentionally.

you can't even get your feet beneath you to try and run before a pair of hands scoop you up under your armpits. you scream again, legs kicking desperately and trying to throw your weight backwards.

there's a laugh in front of you, a little shake to your hanging form. it makes you want to curl up into a tiny ball, makes you feel vulnerable in ways you never have before.

you hear the other man trot up behind you. "got her?" he calls out.

"hmm," your captor hums in affirmation. "ran right into my arms."

"sweet thing," the scottish one laughs, and you feel a hand run over your head. it makes you flinch, has you ducking your head low with a shiver. "look at you, even prettier out here where we can see you. dirty thing, though."

"you can give her a bath when we get home."

you finally get the nerve to speak, giving a little kick forward. "no, let-lemme go-"

there's a click of a tongue from in front of you, another shake to your body. your mouth slams shut with a click, your legs falling still. "quiet, bunny. you're fine."

"be nice, si. poor little thing's heart probably can't take much more."

"she'll have to learn how, if you want to keep her for yourself."

your head jerks over your shoulder for a moment, unseeing eyes scanning nothing. "keep- what? no, no, please i don't... please, i-"

"hush," the scottish one says, stepping right behind you so his front is pressed to your back. "can't start panickin' so early, bun, you won't survive the walk home."

you're hauled closer to the other man's body. you try to leverage your feet on his body, kick at his stomach and try to get him to drop him, no matter how useless the fight feels.

he rumbles low in his chest - almost a growl against you - and pulls you tight to him despite the kicking. another hand worms between your bodies, brushes your feet away like nothing and leaves you hanging limp again.

"let's head back," the one holding you speaks. "she'll probably go into shock soon, don't want to be out here for that."

"no, please, i dont want-"

"shh. you're comin' home with us. we caught you, we're keeping you. nothing you can do about it now." the one holding you says again. his straightforwardness saps the energy from you, leaves you keening a low sound and letting your body become dead weight.

"there we go," the scottish one murmurs, another hand petting over your head. "good little bunny."

[flowersandbigteeth]

Hi! I recently read everything you have on Hugo and I adore both him and your writing style so much! All the characters in your writing feel so vivid!

You mentioned in a headcanon post that when they were younger Hugo thought the reader was annoying since he couldn’t drink or hit on girls when they’re around

Since it discovered this information my brain keeps making me think about the reader overhearing Hugo complaining to his friends about them so I just wanted your opinion on what you think would happen to calm my brain down because I seriously cannot get my head to stop making up many many angsty scenarios about this!!! Especially when I’m about to go to sleep!

Thank you so much for all the hard work you put into your stories and sorry for the long ask, have a great day/night!

I hope this helps you get some sleep, lol!

You were walking around Hugo’s house to the backyard and you overheard him talking to some of his friends, you stop just around the corner when you hear your name mentioned

They were complaining that he never hangs out with them anymore and when he does it’s always with you, a dumb kid, in their words, so they can’t have any fun

Hugo wanting to fit in complains that you are impossible to shake off, just a dumb kid that won’t leave him alone

Of course, you are devastated and run back home, rushing past your parents to your bedroom to collapse into tears 

A few days go by and you still don’t feel better. Food doesn’t taste good, you don’t want to watch cartoons, or play with your dolls. You feel like a dumb baby and wish you could be more grown up

At first Hugo enjoys spending a day with his friends without you, he feels like he can be a real teenager, but after a few days he starts to worry where you’ve been.

He knows your parents aren’t the best (sometimes they forget to feed you and often leave you home alone, even though you are too young to be without a babysitter) and worries you’ve gotten into trouble or something has happened to you. When he goes out with his friends all he can think about is you and what might be wrong 

Finally, he can’t hold down his worry and heads over to your house to check on you

Your parents are very anti-were people so they send him away, telling him to leave you alone, which only makes him worry even more

He ends up seeing you at the little park down the street, you’re swinging on a swing set, but just kind of drifting back and forth, not really enthusiastic about it

When you first see him approaching you immediately jump off the swing and run to hide in the play set, curling up in one of the little hidey-holes 

Hugo is confused because normally you are thrilled to see him, so he wonders what’s changed and a bolt of dread shoots down his spine, thinking you’ve grown out of him and don’t like him anymore

He follows you over and peeks in, but you turn your back to him, which only makes him feel more worried

He asks you if you are trying to play hide and seek with him and when you just shake your head and start crying a bit, he knows something is wrong, so he reaches in and fishes you out, sitting you on his lap

He tries to bribe you with ice cream, but you aren’t having it and just continue to cry on his lap, so not sure what else to do he hugs you really tight and pats your head 

He ends up begging you to tell him what’s wrong, asking you if it was something your parents did or someone bullying you at school 

You are so embarrassed and overcome with sadness you don’t know what to say and instead snap at him that he’s a big meanie and you’re not friends anymore before dissolving back into tears

Of course he’s very upset by this, because he can’t imagine what he could have done to make you angry with him

He promises you if you just tell him what’s wrong he’ll fix it for you and with a lot of coaxing he manages to get out of you that you think he thinks you’re a baby and you wish you were grown up (in your mind teenager is very grown up) so he will want to play with you 

He’s not sure where this is all coming from, but he tries to assure you that he likes playing with you and he missed you when you were avoiding him

You argue back that that’s not what he told his grown up friends and suddenly he realizes that you overheard him talking with them and feels horrible

He’s not sure how to fix it, but to make you feel better, and because it is mostly true, he promises you that you are his best friend and he was stupid for saying those things. He tells you sometimes grown ups say things they don’t mean and don’t really believe when they are trying to fit in. 

You’re still skeptical, but you stop crying at least and ask him if he wishes you were grown up

He tells you he likes that you are little because he can do this…he stands up and tosses you up in the air and catches you again, before spinning you around in circles by your arms, until you can’t hold in your giggles any longer and he’s put a big smile on your face. 

When he puts you down again he wipes the tears and snot off of your face with his shirt and tells you the two of you can hang out together all day, with no one else, and do whatever you want to do to make up for it 

You decide to extort him for ice cream and make him chase down the ice cream truck and buy you whatever you want. You end up eating ice creams together on the curb, while you tell him about things that would be important to a little kid (stuff you learned at school, what’s happening with your favorite cartoon, etc.) until it gets dark and you get full and sleepy. 

Since your parents aren’t home (they usually spend their evenings at bars and you’ve come over to his house many times, hungry when they neglected you) he lets you fall asleep in his arms and he carries you home and tucks you into bed (He knows where your parents hide the spare key under a potted plant). 

After that he never lets his friends talk bad about you again and comes to the realization that he cares more about what you think of him than what they think of him.

[mad-c1oud]

the "I could keep you safe. they're all afraid of me" or "do you feel safe enough to come with me?" for starcicle....these are already so juicy for etoiles to say but also there is something so intriguing about scenarios where charlie is the one saying it..... maybe these ideas would be fun to write?

YEAHHHHH no way you looked at the same one as me and also thought "oh but charlie saying this..." it's like you read my mind. Gonna write about one here, but expect to see the other in a regular text post because oh man they are so fun to write...

Feel free to ask for more prompts yall!!!

+++++

(Warnings for depictions of serious injuries and shock)

"Do you feel safe enough to come with me?"

Étoiles startles out of his panicked-induced scrambling to stop and look at Charlie, eyes wide and breath stuttering in his chest. Everything is blurry but he still has his mask on so he isn’t sure what’s going on. “W-what?”

Charlie is unharmed save for a nick above his eyebrow which means Étoiles did his job correctly, but the fighter himself has been better, sure. The slime hybrid eyes his sluggishly bleeding wounds, stopping to blanch at where his hand should be before his eyes shoot back up and lock with Étoiles’ again. The next time he speaks, it isn’t as meek or unsure, “Do you feel safe enough to come with me? I-I think we’re near a cave system I recognize. Somewhere we can hide until we can uh…” He gestures vaguely to where the fighter is cradling his severed limb to his chest protectively, “Address that? Neither of us can go back outside like this, man.”

God, Étoiles hates that he’s right. There’s sticky chlorophyll dripping onto to ground from his wrist and there’s a suspiciously wet spot growing along his side that can’t be good. He’s down one hand, his scythe is still outside with at least four code monsters hovering about. He can’t respawn unless he wants to risk not being able to regrow his hand back later, fuck. They’re stuck in this cave Charlie dragged Étoiles into when he fell and he kind of hates it. Not Charlie, just being stuck. Useless.

“Listen, I know we don’t really know each other well and you’ve heard the rumors which are actually more fact than rumors I guess but I mean I had some pretty good reasons for—”

“Slime.”

“Okay okay sorry, what I’m trying to say is can you trust me this once? You’re kind of missing a hand and an eye and it’s really freaking me out, dude. Would you come with me? The codes can wait, surely?”

Non, ils ne peuvent pas attendre, Étoiles wants to protest before he registers what exactly Charlie said. He refuses to let go of his sword, bringing up his handless wrist to touch his cheek, wincing at the sharp, biting pain it causes. It’s amazing neither he nor Charlie gags at the sensation or sight, but Charlie must not find it gross and Étoiles is realizing he might be in shock. Weird. That doesn’t usually happen.

“Étoiles?” Charlie steps forward hesitantly, bringing his hand up, but stopping before it makes contact with his elbow. The sounds of fighting get louder outside and he starts to tremble, just a little. “You with me buddy?”

“Ouais,” Étoiles mummers, “You said my name wrong.” He notes distantly, grip on his sword lax. Charlie steps more into his space but doesn’t touch him yet.

“Whoops, maybe you can teach me how to on the way to my super-secret hidey hole, yeah? What do you say? Feel like walking with a misclicker?”

Étoiles should be on guard right now, especially when he’s down a limb and an eye but there’s something… comforting to Charlie’s tone, reassuring enough that has him sheathing his sword and grabbing for the offered hand, squeezing it tightly as Charlie beams.

“The ‘s’ is silent.” He mummers as Charlie urges him forward. Chatter from the hybrid fills the cave as he grips Étoiles’ hand with one of his, the other clutching a shitty, iron axe with the other. He forgets to worry about the code and finds it easier to breathe despite the cold, dark walls surrounding them.

He finds it easier to laugh too.