#the boy has got NO CLUE what is happening at any point in time ever

[strangersteddierthings]

The Response

Part Two of The Interview [Part One] [Ao3]

With no exact time given by Robin, Eddie's left to kill time. He drags himself from the YouTube spiral to try and track down Steve on social media. After two hours, he concludes that either Steve has his (and official Corroded Coffin's) socials blocked, or Steve just doesn't have any. He's a bit baffled that people can even find Steve to send hate mail to him.

He shoots a text to Gareth. Can you find Steve on any socials?

He gets an instant reply.

DO NOT CONTACT!!!

WAIT FOR RESPONSE

DONOT MAKE THISS WORSE MUNSON

Eddie frowns down at his phone but doesn't argue. He probably would make it worse. He sends back 'k' and looks back to the laptop. Watches it auto-refresh but Robin's feed hasn't changed.

God, what will Steve have to say?

It's mostly true, that Eddie hasn't thought about Steve in years. That's been deliberate. Eddie was so furious back then. Robin wasn't wrong about him venting his feelings into a song, but how was he supposed to know Hey Steve would be the song the catch the ear of the people? And yeah, the lyrics are very unflattering.

A lot of their first songs were filled with rage. The whole first album is just their collective high school experiences. Songs about growing up in Hawkins and how shit that was for them, a song about Eddie's complicated feelings towards his dad, songs about dungeons and dragons disguised as fantasy ballads, things like that. And, of course, Hey Steve.

He can admit that years ago he reevaluated the lyrics and found it to be more harsh than was warranted. But he figured there was no point worrying about that. People exaggerate in songs all the time. The song is out, people still plead for it to be played during encore performances. Eddie hadn't thought it was hurting anyone to play it.

Hey Steve had taken Eddie less than two days to write. He did almost nothing for those two days except write. Fuck. He was still just a dumb kid when he wrote it, barely graduated high school. And the reason for writing it...

Eddie had know Steve wasn't out to his parents when he'd asked Steve to essentially runaway with him. Steve had worried about things like money, and living situations, and getting food. It had all sounded like excuses to Eddie back then. Like Steve was picking the safety of Hawkins and his parents' house over going out into the world to be with Eddie freely.

They'd fought about it. The worst fight they'd ever had. Yet, here Eddie is, a decade later and unable to recall anything that was actually said. Just a summary of that conversation exists in his mind, now. Steve wanting to wait. To save more money now that his hours at the grocery store would be changing from part time to full with him no longer being in school and able to work the morning shifts. Wait to get his car fully transferred to his name from his parents.

All things that adult Eddie can now see as reasonable. Jesus Fucking Christ. He remembers he'd given Steve some sort of ultimatum. He was leaving on the last Grey Hound from Hawkins to Indy. Steve could meet him at the bus stop or stay, but Eddie was going, with or without him.

Steve had shouted back. He knows they just got louder and nastier until Steve finally told him that he would be going without him, then, because they were over. Even as angry as Eddie had been, he'd held out hope. But that last bus left Hawkins with Eddie on it and no sign of Steve in sight.

So Eddie did what he did best. Channeled that hurt into anger and wrote a song. Never in a million years did he think that, in the very first bar they played at in Indy, they'd meet a man who wanted to take a chance with them and get them a demo. All they needed to do was get from Indy to LA. Eddie had a van and the motivation. The next year of his life was too busy for him to even think, much less worry about Steve and his breakup.

Well, that was a lie. He thought about it constantly and shoved the thoughts aside as quickly as they came. Easier to do when he had no way to check up on Steve. He left Hawkins with no laptop and a pay-per-text flip phone he'd bought at a gas station. Wayne tried his best to provide for Eddie, and that meant they'd had one cell phone between the two, and Eddie had insisted that Wayne keep it.

By the time he got a laptop and internet, Steve had blocked him on Facebook and Twitter. That was the conclusion Eddie had come to when he finally worked up the nerve to swallow his pride and apologize and couldn't find Steve on either platform. Another thing that had filled Eddie with anger and hurt. Steve had broken up with him and then made sure Eddie couldn't reach back out.

Now he wonders, did Steve block him, or did Steve delete his socials to stop the hate mail?

Eddie feels nauseous.

Fuck!

What's worse is that, before the fight, Eddie had been so sure he was in love with Steve. But how can he say that with how quickly he dropped him? With how he's acted ever since? He could justify it to himself when he was still freshly broken up with and hurting but that faded away as fame took over.

Hard to be sad about not having a boyfriend when there were plenty of people lining up to be with him.

He pulls himself from his head to look at the laptop. A new tweet shows on Robin's screen and he scrambled to turn off the auto-refresher.

It's a short tweet, and Eddie sees she's changed her name as well.

Clicking the link takes him to a YouTube video.

It starts with the camera slightly jiggling, presumably from someone hitting record. It's been set up in a recording studio. A stool in front of a mic that's suspended from the ceiling is the only thing in the frame.

"Alright, dingus, last chance to change your mind about this," Robin's voice is picked up from off screen.

"You can't talk me out of this," says a male voice, and without any thought about it, Eddie's hand flings out and slaps the space bar, pausing the video. His heart is pounding, and he has to take a few deep breaths. That was Steve's voice. Of course, it was Steve's voice, it's his statement video, but hearing it again. Hearing it spoken softly but determined.

Swallowing feels difficult. Eddie's last memory of Steve's voice was screaming. This is... this is the Steve he never thought he'd hear again, and hasn't realized how much he desperately wanted to. With shaking hands, he presses play again.

Steve steps into frame, takes a seat on the stool. He looks in the direction of the camera, and Eddie has to pause again, to take him in. His hair is longer than it was in high school, the ends of it touching his shoulders. He's got it pulled up in a half updo, keeping the hair out of his face. His face is familiar and yet so different. He certainly looks older but not in a bad way. The biggest difference is his nose; it's not as straight as it once was, like it's been broken and healed wrong. His strong, square face is as handsome as it ever was, perhaps more so now. Eddie's eyes are drawn to the two moles on his cheek; his eyes have always been drawn there. It was his favorite place to kiss Steve.

He's wearing light wash jeans and a deep blue Henley. And fuck if it doesn't make him look good.

Eddie unpauses again, and waits to hear the retribution he deserves.

"This good, Robin?"

"Yeah, you're perfectly in frame."

"Good. Uhh, hi. I'm Steve. Robin told me that there was a lot of fuss regarding a certain Corroded Coffin song, and that people wanted to hear from me. Which is wild 'cause like, I'm just some guy and I don't really have much to say-" Steve is saying, with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Steve!" Robin interrupts him, "I just had to help you move because someone threw a brick through your window! What do-"

"Okay! I get it! But that's not Corroded Coffin's fault. They do that whole anti-bullying thing! It's not like they don't address harassment and bullying. I-" Steve cuts off, seeming to remember he's on camera. His face turns pink. "We can argue this later. Uhh, anyway. There is something I want to say to Eddie Munson, so I hope he's watching."

He makes a 'give it to me' gesture and Robin enters frame, handing him an acoustic guitar. "I thought I'd answer using the one thing Eddie understands best. Music. So, uh, I wrote this song with Robin's help. Lyrics are mine but the melody is Robin. The song doesn't have a title but, uh, okay. Here it goes."

And then, Steve starts to sing, looking down at the guitar for correct finger placement more than singing into the mic but it picks him up well regardless.

"Do you think I'd give up? That this might've shook the love from me? Or that I was on the brink? How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily? Now that it's done There's not one thing that I would change My life was a storm, since I was born. How could I fear any hurricane? If someone asked me at the end I'll tell them put me back in it-" Eddie is sitting down, and still he feels the floor fall out from under him.

"-Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah If I could hold you for a minute Darling, I'd go through it again, ah, ah."

Eddie doesn't hear the rest of the song because of the blood pounding in his ears. This can't be- it doesn't mean- after all this time? After everything that's happened, everything Eddie let happen, unintentionally or not.

His phone buzzes against his leg. He ignores it in favor of restarting the video and listening to the video from the start. He listens to the whole song and it ends without anything else. Once Steve's strummed the last chord, he just stands up, walks to the camera and the video ends.

He restarts the video again, and again, and again. Hears Steve sing How could you think I'd scare so easily and I would do it again if I could hold you for a minute and though I know my heart would break I'd tell them put me back in it.

It's through the tenth, or eleventh, playback that his phone buzzes again and he fumbles to answer blindly, unable to pull his eyes away from Steve on the screen of his laptop.

"Gare- It's not- what did I do Gare? Everything I thought Steve would have to say never came close to what he just sang. I can't- I don't know what to do," Eddie sobs into the phone.

There's a pause of silence before what is very much not Gareth's voice says, "Well, dammit Munson. I was calling to rip you a new one but you're already crying."

It takes Eddie a moment to place the voice, "Robin?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Robin says. "I think Steve's let you off easily, but I also know I kick a hornet's nest with my interview so I think we should work on getting this cleared up, both publicly and privately."

"How did you get my num-"

"Gareth. Keep up, Munson. I'd like us to be able to call off each other's fans. Your PR team and whoever you employee to do that anti-bullying campaign have done a pretty good job so far in telling people to back off, politely. Helps that Jeff has been on top of this from the beginning. Honestly, I think the best decision you've ever made in your life was making Jeff the front man of your band and not yourself. He's much more pleasant to talk to, and so good with people."

"Robin!" Eddie has to shout because Robin keeps saying words and they don't make sense. "What?"

He hears a sign from the other end of the phone. "You are annoying. You know that, Munson? I'll work with Gareth to get this done. I think we should be seen together, publicly. Maybe getting a coffee. So everyone knows we've made up, or whatever it is Gareth and I decide is happening. We should also meet up privately. There's a lot to talk about."

"I'm so confused."

"Nothing new. Now, when are you free to get on a plane to Pendleton, Oregon?"

"Pendleton?"

"Munson!" Robin snaps, "we just established that you live in a perpetual state of confusion. Instead of questioning me, how about you answer my questions. Now, when are you free?"

"Anytime."

"Smart answer. Get your ass to Pendleton by the morning of the twenty-third. I'll work with Gareth for all the other concerns. He's easier to deal with."

"Can I ask one follow up question at least!?"

"You just did but I'll allow one more before I hang up."

"Why Pendleton?"

"It's the nearest airport to our destination. I am not having a private conversation with you in California. I don't want to be caught speaking to you until Gareth and I have a chance to work out the details."

And then Robin hangs up.

Eddie leans forward and restarts the video on his laptop before looking up plane tickets. Fixing things with Robin might be the first step in ever getting try and, he doesn't know, apologize to Steve? Maybe even have a conversation one day.

He doesn't deserve that chance, he thinks, but he's a bad enough person to want it anyway.

[uccmd]

THE LIST of domestic things about Crowley and Aziraphale during S2 as my free therapy session:

The apology dance

Crowley knows why exactly Aziraphale might call him (the list consists of only three reasons) and can understand which is relevant at the moment by Azi's voice

Crowley doesn't wear his glasses in the bookshop

Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

"Ourselves"

"Do you need a lift somewhere?"

Them discussing their favorite romantic tropes like it've never happened to them

Crowley casually ordering the drink Aziraphale asked for

Crowley being absolutely done with everything but still managing to help Aziraphale every way possible participating in his investigation and making sure they're not killed

"OUR car"

Crowley actually letting Aziraphale to drive the Bentley!!!

They have a room where they discuss their questions and problems (like with the Gabriel's and Muriel's visits)

Crowley sitting on the arm of Aziraphale's armchair

"Good job" "You really think so?"

Aziraphale calling Crowley right away to tell him more about the clue and what he found out (aka searching for his praise)

Crowley supporting Aziraphale while he performs his little handy magic tricks

Aziraphale slowly getting more comfortable with calling Crowley his friend (aka "we go back in a long time" and etc)

"A little us time"

Them casually touching each other

Dancing while talking and talking while dancing

Crowley not letting other people buy or take Aziraphale's books while he is out of bookshop

Crowley trying to communicate with Gabriel after Aziraphale advices him to do so

Crowley cleaning up the bookshop while Aziraphale is on a walk with Metatron (he knows this place so well + «stress-cleaning» @sgam76 )

Aziraphale asking Crowley to be his assistant in the lethal magic trick and letting Crowley point the muzzle of a loaded gun at him when they can't use miracles

Crowley's hands shaking because his first shot ever was about to be made while he was pointing a gun at Aziraphale but when he just got himself together because fuck him if he will ever hurt his angel

Crowley trusting Aziraphale because he asked

Crowley waiting for Aziraphale to change his mind in the end until the very last moment

Aziraphale complimenting Crowley's work during The Begging

Aziraphale's attempt to put his hand on Crowley's shoulder during the kiss because he wanted them to be closer to each other

Aziraphale has a diary with a description of his every meeting with Crowley (as i suppose)

"But you like waiting inside"

How literally every character made a remark about their relationship being a little bit more than just friendship and how they're flustered by those comments

"I am, but rescuing me makes him so happy"

«Crowley going “NGK!” when Azi briefly corners him in the pub with a hand on his chest» @babbeldumpsterfire

"If any harm goes to Aziraphale-"

«“we both get PLENTY of use out of it” regarding the bookshop» @nightgoodomens

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 45

part 1 | part 44 | ao3

Nancy, Jonathan, and some guy with the longest hair Steve's ever seen are standing in a loose circle with Eddie and his bandmates, talking and sort of dance-nodding along to The Power of Love by Huey Lewis (a fact that Steve absolutely intends to mock his boyfriend for the second he gets the chance), and Steve, like, mentally girds his loins.

He and Jon are cool with each other, and he and Eddie are obviously, uh, plenty warmed up to one another by now, but the rest of them...

One's a stranger, one's an ex who seems drunk as shit and is currently so invested in spinning around to the music that she hasn't opened her eyes to notice him, and the other three are thawing to him at a truly glacial pace. Steve hasn't so much as been invited to watch a rehearsal yet because Eddie's 'still working on them' and needs 'a bit more time, but don't worry, they'll come around.'

They don't openly scowl when he and Robin approach, though, so Steve takes that as a win.

"Harrington!" Eddie calls, bowing deeply to add, "Lady Buckley."

Steve would feel stung by the surname if not for how downright giddy Eddie sounds. God, he loves tipsy Eddie; fucking Disney cartoon boy.

"Munson," he plays along, giving him a sly grin and a shoulder bump as he sidles up next to him. "Didn't know you were allowed to leave the basement at these things."

Jeff interrupts his air-guitaring to glare at Steve, bur Eddie holds out a hand and assures him that Steve's just fucking around. Before Steve can apologize or defend himself, Long Hair Guy leans in across the circle, his eyes wide and intense and bloodshot to hell.

"Dude," he greets. "You have. Such beautiful hair."

Steve barks a laugh. Robin rolls her eyes. Jonathan also rolls his eyes, but it seems more fond and less annoyed. "Can't take you anywhere," he mutters to the guy, then asks them, "You guys met Argyle yet?"

Steve holds out a hand. Confusion washes over him as he processes what Jonathan just said. "Uh." Argyle. "Like the sweater?"

"Yeah, man," Argyle smiles, dopey and slow. Sure. The guy in head-to-toe tie-dye and a neon green fanny pack is named Argyle. Why not? "My parents wanted a sheep, but they got me, instead."

Jonathan laughs like it's the funniest joke he's ever heard. Steve's pretty sure he's too sober for this conversation.

They exchange handshakes, and Robin asks if she can touch the guy's hair, and they all slip into easy, friendly conversation, naturally splintering into smaller groups of twos and threes. Steve's just getting the rundown on all the 'sick new gear' the band got for Christmas when the song changes, and god, this night just could not get better.

"Oh, fuck off!" Eddie groans in the DJ's direction.

Steve has to practically swallow his lips to keep himself from cackling, and then he gives up and does it, anyway, because Eddie looks like he just sucked a lemon while watching a dog die as his bandmates all start sing-shouting along. "We're talking away..."

"No." Eddie wheels around and points a finger at Steve, because Steve's singing, too.

Steve just sings louder. "I don't know what, I'm to say!"

"Oh, my god." He scrubs a hand down his face, dragging the skin down until Steve can see the pale pink of his inner eyelid. "Nobody I know has any goddamn taste!"

"Maybe you don't have any taste!" Robin teases, bouncing around and swinging her arms haphazardly to the music.

Nancy backs her up with a mumbled "Yeah!" but she's still spinning around in such tight circles that Steve doubts she has a single clue what's happening in the argument right now. Which is kind of endearing, actually. He likes how willing she is to stick up for people.

The chorus kicks in; Gareth air-drums the switch to half time just before Frank does an honestly super impressive falsetto of 'in a day or twoooooo', and Eddie despairs while Steve laughs his fucking head off.

—

part 46

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *7*

Robin was staring at the screen of the Bat-Computer, while his mind was trapped in the past.

Damian could still clearly remember growing up in the League. And he remembers that he never questioned Grandfather or Mother, except once.

He had been seven, almost eight, when he was training his stealth. And what would be better practice then to follow his mother around till she spots him.

But this day his mother seemed distracted, something that never happened. He followed her to Grandfathers study and listened.

"The boy is nothing but a hindrance to Damian. He fails to kill and has sympathy that's unbecoming for an al Ghul. If Danyal won't complete his next mission, you will dispose of him", Grandfather sounded annoyed, as if he didn't just spoke about killing his twin, about how their mother would have to kill her own flesh and blood.

He didn't wait for his mothers response, knowing that she wouldn't oppose the demon head. As fast as he could he searched for his other half, they needed an plan.

On their next mission Danyal died. It was tragic, but he had sacrificed himself to save the heir of the al Ghuls. At least that is what Damian reported to the League.

Danyal was on the run and for the next 19 month he was forbidden to leave any clues about his whereabouts for Damian.

At some point he would be able to find him again.

He had searched for Danyal, ever since he stared to life with father. But the little voice in the back of his head kept whispering about how Danyal probably died because of his injuries years ago and that father would see it as his fault that he lost another son.

But know he found one of his clues. An online post from someone with the username 'ghostboi', about a constellation and the story that he himself spun around it. A story only the two of them knew. Well... and a few hundred strangers now, but he would have to talk later with Danyal about that.

Now it was time to tell father about yet another son that mother kept secret from him, oh joy.

.

.

.

The talk had been going as good as anyone could expect, which meant that he and father now sat in a private jet, only two hours after they found out about Danyals whereabouts and three hours since Bruce Wayne knows about his second blood son.

They where going as Civilians, since it would probably go smoother. And because the Brucie Wayne persona seemed to gift his father the ability to talk a little bit easier about emotions. Except for right now, because he was angry at Damian for keeping his twin a secret. Still, Damian couldn't see how he could have handled this better and also stayed silent.

Quietly he goes over the things he found out about his brother.

He now goes by the name Daniel James Fenton

He lives in Amity Park, Illinois

He was adopted at the age of nine by the Fentons

He goes to the local high school

He has an older sister, Jasmine Fenton, who is in college for psychology

His parents are ecto-scientist

He has two friend with the names of Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson

It wasn't a lot, but he didn't have much time and also not the patience to wait any longer. It had been almost nine years since he last seen his other half and even if he was nervous, he just couldn't bear to wait any longer.

After they landed in an airport in the city nearest to Amity Park, the two immediately got into the back of a car and their journey continues.

For a long time it was silent in the car, till Damian couldn't bear his father's brooding anymore.

"I didn't know if he had survived and I deemed it better for everyone involved if I'm the only one with this particular uncertainty and possible grief", even if his own voice was levelled and his father just responded with a grunt, the air in the car seemed now easier to breathe.

~

Yes, Bruce had been livid and heartbroken when Damian had told him about his youngest, but he could understand to some degree where the boy was coming from. And if the situation wouldn't be so heartbreaking, then he could be able to call it sweet of his son. He just didn't want him to hurt, but even so... now it was to late to think about the what if's, in a few minutes he would have Daniel in his sight.

They stopped in front of a house that was a clear violation of every OSHA law he could think of. But the big "FENTON WORK' sign, told him that they were right.

Bruce put on a light smile, before he knocked on the door, Damian on his left side. From inside he heard a little bit of shuffling and a carbon copy of Damian opened the door. Everything except for the eyes were the same.

But before Bruce could say anything, the twins were already in each other's arms. He could hear quiet sniffling.

"You found me, your safe", the words came like a mantra out of Daniels mouth.

"Ahbak, Danyal", was the whispered answer from Damian.

And Bruce felt like an intruder in this moment. He had never seen his son so openly affectionate and it was like a weight had lifted of Damians shoulders.

It took a few minutes till the two brothers let go of each other. Except for their hands, that stayed clasps with each other.

"Hello Daniel, I'm Bruce Wayne. I'm yours and Damians father", he introduced himself with a smile, even though the boy seemed to shrink a little bit into himself.

"Please call me Danny Mr. Wayne. Just Fruitloops call me Daniel", his son gave him a crooked smile and Bruce nodded.

"Of course, but call me Bruce", he answered easygoing.

"Is there a place where we can talk Danyal?", Damian got the attention of his twin with a little tuck on his hand.

"You can come inside. Mom and Dad are out of town to get a few supplies for a new project", his answer was sheepish, as he lead them inside.

It seemed like he had adjusted well to a civilian life. How he wished he could have seen his growth.

They sit down in the living room and start to talk a bit about Danny's life with the Fentons. It's apparent for both him and Damian, that Danny is hiding something from them, but they don't press. Maybe he'll tells Damian, when they have a moment alone.

"Should I help you to pack your possessions now? I'm sure the Fentons won't need to long to come back, so that you can say goodbye", as Damian was speaking, he stood up and looked at a bewildered Danny. But Bruce wasn't really better. As much as he would love to bring Danny home with them, they couldn't just rip him out of his life. And Danny seems to see it just like him.

"Dami... I'm not leaving. I love my parents and my friends, I can't just go and leave them", Danny also stood up and clasped his hands on Damians shoulders.

"Tt... so you choose them over me?", his voice was barely over a whisper.

"No! I-... it's just... give me time? I'm almost done with high school and I want to go Gotham U, so... just wait a bit? Please?", his tone was pleading, as he searched his brothers eyes, whom just answered with a defeated sight.

"Danny is right Damian. We can't just uproot him like that. As much as I want us all together, we found him now, the rest can wait", Damian deflated a little more at his words. And so Bruce couldn't just let the opportunity pass to comfort his children for once.

He closed the small distance between them and hugged both of the boys lightly to himself.

"You know that I always wanted to raise you myself and now that I see you both like that, I wish for it even more", he sighted with a woeful smile, while Damian grumbled about the proximity. But Danny's little smile shifted to a horrified look.

"Your wish is my command~", the feminine voice came out of thin air, but Bruce had no time to think about it. Because just a second later, there were two little Babies in his arms. Two little, screaming Babies.

Bruce never regretted it so much in his life, that he hadn't brought Alfred along.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi!! Can i request a hurt/comfort hotch x reader?

Reader is starting to feel lonely in the relationship cause for the past 2 months hotch has only been home for a week total and she really misses him. They haven’t had time to themselves cause even when hotch is in virginia he’s in the office and him getting called out on a case during his day off happens more often than the both of them want to. and even when they text and call it’s not the same.

anyway hotch comes home in the middle of the night after a case and he just finds reader on the sofa crying cause she just really misses her boyfriend and the two of them finally talk about it.

You have permission to break my heart with the angst and put it back together. I know its long and i have no clue if it made sense so im sorry😭😭 enjoy your day💕

༉‧₊˚. 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

― pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

― summary: you knew that being with aaron meant that his job came first, you just hadn't realized how badly it would actually affect you. now, your life and love is on the line.

― warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST!!! you have been warned!, thoughts of breaking up, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, hints of depression.

― wc: 905

⋆ a/n: my first long fic back being angst LMAOOOO. i'm not going to lie, writing this kind of bummed me out a bit but that's how i knew it was going to be good LOL. but never fear, i got a few smutty things in the works, so keep a silly little eye out for that!! i love you guys so so much and thank you for your request!

masterlist | AO3

The room felt melancholic. Empty. 

The sounds of laughter that had once bounced off of the walls of your home now rang silently, one of the only people that knew of the joy that once made your house a home was long gone on a case right now.

You don’t know what to do. How could you last like this? How could your relationship? How could Jack?

Jack, the precious little boy that you had taken under your wing even before you and Aaron had ever made it official. You knew he missed his father dearly, but with every large life milestone the boy had completed, Aaron had missed out on. It had gotten to the point where Jack doesn’t bother to ask you if he could call his dad to tell him about it, because nine times out of ten, he knew that Aaron wouldn’t answer.

So now as you sit here on the couch in the dark with your head in your hands, you can’t help but think that maybe this was it, that it was time to consider the very dreaded other option. 

You tried your best to make your relationship with Aaron work, God did you try, but having to sit there and endure weeks of radio silence, of not knowing whether or not he was alive was excruciating. When he did have time to text or call you, every conversation was more and more distant. 

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, and your bottom lip trembled. You crossed your arms and placed them on your knees where you leaned on them, staring out into the abyss of your dimly lit living room. You had just put Jack to sleep, and you didn’t want to risk waking him up.

Your eyes solemnly scaled the walls where the pictures of your little family hung, frames upon frames of happy smiling faces. 

What happened?

It was the fact you were absolutely drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t hear your front door unlock – something that your boyfriend would deeply frown upon. 

Aaron wasn’t surprised to find the apartment quiet, what he was surprised to find was your silhouette illuminated by a single lamp. What really set off the alarms in his brain was your shivering shoulders, which could only mean one thing.

“Sweetheart?” His deep voice pierced the thin air hovering above you. You just shook your head, any happiness that would have left your mouth died in your throat, the words leaving you was, “We have to talk.”

You hated doing this, but who’s to say he won’t get called in tomorrow? No, you had to do this now.

Aaron felt his heart fall into his stomach as he made his way over towards you, gently sitting down on the cushion next to yours, almost as if he was afraid to scare you.

“Of course. Are you okay?” He inquired in concern. You just shook your head again. “This isn’t working, Aaron.” The pain lacing your voice was unmissable. “What?” He’s completely caught off guard, because this was the last thing he’d expected to come home to.

“I can’t do this anymore… unless – unless we can figure something out but even then I-” He rushes to grab your hand, and it lays limp and cold in his warm and calloused one. “Honey please, what’s wrong? Tell me what I can do.” Holy shit, he’s panicking. 

“You’re never here anymore! I - I can’t remember the last time in the past two months that we’ve been able to have any alone time together! Most of the time you’re either gone in a whole different state or stuck in the office!” You couldn’t stop the word vomit from leaving, all kinds of emotions that had been kept dormant finally coming up to the surface.

You heaved out a deep breath, your body slumping in defeat. “Did you know that Jack learned how to ride a bike today?” You asked quietly. “No.” Aaron gulped, “I didn’t.”

A heavy silence settled between the two of you.

“What do you need me to do?” Finally, you looked at him.

There were unshed tears in your eyes, “What I want you to do, you can’t make it happen.” His eyebrows furrowed. “You want me to quit my job?”

“No,” You said with a disbelieving laugh. “I just want you to be there.”

“Who says I can’t do that?” His head tilts, his eyes boring into yours, desperately trying to read you. It was like his profiler skills didn’t exist. “Every time you’ve had a day off you’ve been called into the office one way or another.” Your tone is hopeless, like your situation can’t be helped. 

With a harsh squeeze of your eyelids, the tears began to fall, but Aaron was quick to swipe them away.

“Honey, look at me,” He cups the side of your cheek, his thumb brushing away the liquid. Hesitantly you did, and you instantly fell victim to the warmness of his irises. “I will fix this, because I am not losing you. My behavior has been completely unacceptable, and I swear that I will be here for you and Jack more consistently, I promise.”

“How do I know if this won’t happen again?

“I’ll make sure of it.” 

It was the finality in his voice that fizzled out the anxiety in your gut, setting your nerves at ease.

“Don’t make me regret this, Hotchner.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[nycbaby21]

A Kiss on the Cheek

prompt: meeting the Hughes family doesn't go as good as either of you hope (angsty)

word count: 4,331

*It hurt me to make them all mean and to write this*

“Would you stop fidgeting? It’s going to be fine baby. They are gonna like you, trust me,” Quinn’s voice interrupts my anxious thoughts about meeting his family. I look down and notice I am picking at my fingers, so I put my hands face down on my lap. I glance over at Quinn who is concentrating on driving, I honestly wonder how I got so lucky to be with him. We met at the sports bar I worked at in Vancouver. The team walked in to celebrate a win, and Quinn walked out with my phone number. I didn’t even know who he was, or what he did for a living until our third date.

“Sorry,” I mumble quietly. My nerves are through the roof right now. The Hughes family, especially the brothers, are one of the closest families I have ever seen. I know that Quinn values their opinion more than anything else. He once called Jack and Luke to weigh in on the new couch he was buying. “Hey would you look at me please,” he says stopping at the stop sign. I look over and he smiles at me.

“You know after you stop you can go right,” I laugh trying to get out of this conversation. “Really? I had no clue. Good thing I have you to keep me informed,” he joked rolling his eyes at me. He reaches across the console, grabs one of my hands, and brings it to his lips. “Y/n, I wish you could see yourself the way I do. You are literally the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he says sweetly looking over with loving eyes. “Even more than hockey,” I ask raising an eyebrow, joking with him now. “Okay second best,” he says and I slap his chest playfully.

“Thank you, Quinny,” I say leaning over and kissing his cheek. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. But if you wanted to, I think I need a little more than a kiss on the cheek,” he says leaning towards me a connecting our lips. I smile into the kiss and can’t help but fall more in love with Quinn Hughes. We hadn’t said that out loud yet, but I knew how I felt about him. A horn honking snaps us apart. He laughs and drives forward while I sink into my seat embarrassed.

We pull up to his parent’s house he turns off the car. He had already unbuckled and opened his door before I even made the first move. He walks around the car, leans over gently unbuckles my seatbelt, and opens my door. He puts his hand out for me to grab as he pulls me out of the car. I smile up at him and he leans down giving me one more reassuring kiss. We break apart and I notice people watching us from the window.

“Hey, if you are uncomfortable at any time you’ll tell me, right? Because they can be a lot and I think some of Jack’s friends are here. If they say anything I’ll kick their ass okay,” he adds the last part trying to make me smile. I give him a closed-lip smile and lace our fingers together as we walk up to the door. Before he can even open the door, it is flung open, and a brunette boy a little taller than Quinn, who I know is Jack, launches himself on my boyfriend. I smile at just how close they actually are.

“Okay, Jack enough. Let him come in okay,” I hear a female voice come from further in the house. Quinn ushers me inside first and follows closing the door. We shed our jackets and I finally turn a see a room full of people staring at me. I give them a shy smile and feel my legs turning into jello. “Everyone this is Y/n. Y/n this is my mom and dad, Ellen and Jim. And over there is Luke, Trevor, Alex, and Cole. And of course Jack,” Quinn says pointing everyone out to me. I give a quick nod already knowing their names from studying them on the way here.

“It’s so nice to meet all of you. Quinn has told me all about you. And thank you for inviting me into your house,” I say turning to face his parents. His dad gives me a small smile and reaches forward to shake my hand. His mom stared at me for a second and then ran to the kitchen after hearing a beep. I shrugged it off, thinking I was just being sensitive and overthinking everything. After everyone greeted Quinn, he moved over to the couch and I quickly followed suit. 

The guys were playing some video game on the tv and Quinn was quickly sucked into it. I tried to keep up but I had no idea what they were talking about. I just sat back and nodded or looked up at the screen trying to follow. “You wanna try,” Jack asks pushing the controller towards me. I open my mouth to say no thank you but before I can Luke interrupts,” She can try later okay? I really wanna beat this before Quinn has to go. No offense or anything to you.” I brush it off and nod saying it was fine. Jack looked over and gave me a sorry look. The guys were so into the game, that no one noticed I had gotten up and followed the sound of voices to the kitchen. I was going to offer to help with dinner, but I stopped in my tracks after actually hearing what they were saying.

“El, come on you can’t already hate the girl. They just got here,” Jim whispers to his wife. Ellen didn’t even try to lower her voice. “Jim I don’t hate her. I’m just saying I want the very best for Quinn and I just don’t think that’s her,” she says walking around the kitchen. “Sweetheart. We don’t even know her yet. I mean I loved Ex/n just as much as you did, but that doesn’t mean we can cast this girl off,” he says following his wife from the kitchen to the dining room.

“How do you know she isn’t just using him for money, Jim? I mean we know nothing about this girl. Nothing. Quinn used to talk all the time about Ex/n. He has only ever mentioned this girl once. And that was to tell me she was coming for the weekend with him.” My eyes filled to the brim with tears and I had heard enough. I understood how they were still close with his ex. His mom still followed her and commented on her things. They were together a long time so I completely got that. But hearing that he didn’t talk about me like I did him to my mom hurt. Also, I felt like I wasn’t even getting a fair chance.

As I turned around to go back to Quinn I bumped into Jack. My eyes go wide and I glance at the kitchen. He gave me a look filled with pity and I knew that he had heard the whole thing. He went to open his mouth to say something when I cut him off,” Jack hey, didn’t see you there. I was just heading back.” We both knew I was lying but he chose not to say anything and followed me back into the living room. “Hey, baby. Where did you go? I didn’t even notice you were gone,” Quinn says looking over to me.

“Sorry, I just had to call Mom and let her know we made it. You know how she gets,” I laugh and out of the corner of my eye, I see Jack look our way. I cut him a look pleading him not to say anything. He sighs but nods and turns his attention back to the game. When I turn I see Trevor and Luke staring between me and Jack. I tried to ignore it and curled into Quinn’s side. I started picking at my fingers again, this time Quinn didn’t notice.

As we all sit down for dinner my stomach drops to the floor. In the big bowl in the center of the table was a shrimp alfredo dish. I have a small seafood allergy and couldn’t eat what she had cooked. I already felt awful from the words I heard from the kitchen earlier, so now how would they feel when I didn’t eat? Quinn hands me a plate and smiles down at me before fixing his own. I sign and tell him thank you. I pushed the food around and ate some of the noodles here and there when someone would look my way. My throat would be scratchy later but nothing too serious would happen from just a couple bites.

“So how did the two of you meet,” Jim asks breaking the awkward silence at the table. All eyes are on Quinn and I,” we meet at the bar she works at.” I know I shouldn’t feel ashamed about what I do for work, I really enjoyed it. But something about sitting at a table full of professional hockey players, future professional hockey players, and their parents made me feel so self-conscious. “You work at a bar,” Cole asked looking my way. I knew he didn’t mean it the way I took it but it made my face flush. “Yeah, I wait tables at this sports bar in downtown Vancouver,” I finally say after drinking almost my whole glass of water.

“The guys and I went out one night after a game to this new bar near the arena. Y/n was our server for the night,” Quinn said proudly putting his hand on the top of the table. “I’m working on my degree so I work at the bar at night to help pay for school,” I say hoping that would give me some brownie points. I guess that was enough because the conversation was quickly changed and never revisited. “Oh Quinny did you see that Ex/n got that role in the movie,” Ellen asked excitedly. I tensed up and tried to distract myself. I felt a small nudge under the table and looked across to see Jack. He sends me a smile and I return it. At least one of them liked me, or he just pitied me.

“Oh yeah, I did. She called me after she found out. Said the only reason she got it was because of all the practicing I helped her do for it,” my boyfriend explained to his mom. She let out the biggest smile and it made my already broken heart completely shatter. Quinn hadn’t told me that they had talked. “Oh, I would love to talk to her,” his mom gushed. I sat in my chair rethinking and overanalyzing every little detail of our relationship. I knew I was going to cry and didn’t need anyone to see. “Hey, I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick,” I whisper to Quinn, who just nods and keeps talking to Luke about something.

I head down the hall looking for a bathroom when a voice from behind me scared me. “You can use the one in my room if you want,” Jack said and I let out a deep breath knowing it was him. I smiled and followed him to his room. By the time I made it to the door, the floodgates opened. I quickly shut the door and locked it. I sat on the floor and cried trying to keep myself quiet. I heard some ruffling outside the door and noticed a shadow on the other side. “I know this is a dumb question, but are you okay,” Jack asks through the door. “Yeah I’m fine,” I sniffle trying to pull myself together. “I can go grab Quinn if you want,” he started but I interrupted him. “Please don’t,” I said louder than I realized.

“Okay okay, I won’t. Is there anything I can do,” he was being really nice to me and I wondered why the rest of them didn’t. “No. I promise I’m fine. I’m just super emotional. It’ll pass,” I croak out my throat already getting irritated from the small amount of food I ate. “There is a cup next to the sink I use to rinse my mouth, I know it’s weird because you don’t know me. But you should fill it up and drink something your voice sounds shaky,” he says with a slight worry in his voice. I leaned over and unlocked the door. I see the middle Hughes brother leaning against the wall. 

“It’s not from the crying. Well that probably isn’t helping, but I actually have a small seafood allergy,” I say hating the look he gives me. “Why the hell did you eat then,” he raises his voice and I quickly shushed him. “Keep your voice down, please. You heard them in the kitchen earlier, I didn’t wanna give them another reason to hate me. So I ate it. I’m not gonna die or anything. My throat is just scratchy and my eyes are puffy,” I say leaning back against the bathroom cabinet.

Jack crawls into the bathroom and sits opposite me leaning against the bathtub. “I’m really sorry about my parents,” he says after some time. “It’s okay,” I reply automatically. “No, it’s not. I know how bad it sucks trying to prove to someone you are worth it. I went through that and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. So no it is not okay,” he was very different than I imagined him. From Quinn’s stories, he was this goofy energetic guy who couldn’t sit still, but he was being so calm and serious right now. “Yeah I guess you’re right,” I whisper. “Are you gonna tell Quinn,” I ask looking up at him. He looks back at me conflicted. “I won’t tell him tonight. But if you haven’t by tomorrow I will.” The deadline he had given me made me sick to my stomach.

I stand up and splash cold water on my face. I try and make myself look somewhat presentable and turn around to see Jack leaning against the doorframe. “Thank you, Jack. It really made me feel better,” I say and he pulls me into a hug. I hear footsteps walking away from us and jump away from him. “Oh no,” I say rushing out of the door towards the hall. I make it to the kitchen just in time to see Luke telling Quinn what he just saw.

In his defense, it probably did look bad, but maybe if he had actually stopped for two seconds he would have known. “What the hell,” Quinn stands up from the couch and looks my way. By that time Jack had walked in and looked around the room. “Quinn? Are you still there,” I hear a voice coming from his phone and this time I don’t try and hide the tears. I knew who it was, I made myself watch all of her movies one night. “Hold on sweetie he’ll call you back,” Ellen says and hangs up the phone. 

“You wanna say something or just stand there,” I have never heard him this mad. “Her say something? Quinn why don’t you say something,” Jack says walking forward and standing even with me. Quinn’s eyes shoot between the two of us and his nostrils flare. He was angry, and he had every right to be. But if he had every right, so did I. ”I’m sorry what the hell does that mean? Because from this side of the couch, it looks a lot like my girlfriend is all over my brother,” his words are laced with venom. Jim stands up and puts himself between the boys. “Quinn nothing is going on! Jack was just comforting me,” I say with a rough voice.

“Sure sounds like something happened,” he says face red with anger. I step back a step away from him, which only upset him more. “We have seen you all night looking at Jack. And every time he goes somewhere you go to,” Luke says defending one brother while glaring at the other one. “Unless you can give me the truth about what happened, I think maybe you should go,” his words pierce my heart like an arrow. “What,” I ask tears falling down my face at this point. 

“The truth Y/n. And if you lie to me we are through,” he says stone-faced. I shake my head not even believing what is happening right now. I hoped all of this was some nightmare I was about to wake up from. “You honestly think I would come into your parent’s house and try and get with your little brother,” I ask not caring how rude I sounded. “Unless you give me a reason to think otherwise yes.” I shake my head and grab my jacket from the rack. “Where the hell do you think you’re going,” he asks following me. “You said leave so I am.” I opened the door and walked out not bothering to shut it. 

The cold night air sent chills down my spine, but I think I would rather freeze than be inside that house any longer. The part that put the final nail in the coffin was that he let me walk out and he didn’t try to stop me. It was dark and I had no idea where I was. I reached in my pocket for my phone and I realized it was left on the table. “Fuck,” I let out all my emotions. I remembered a small diner not too far away so I started walking. I didn’t stop until I got there and noticed an older man locking the doors. “Excuse me are you closing,” I ask tears streaming down my face. He looks up at me and his eyes widen. I must look terrible and scare him.

“Eugene, honey grab my sweater from the truck please,” I hear a feminine voice come behind me. A nice older lady put her hand on the small of my back and ushered me into the building. “If you are closed I can leave,” I try and walk out but her grip is strong for an old lady. “Sweetheart there is no way I am leaving you outside in all of this,” she says sternly and leads me to a stool at the bartop. She quickly walks towards the back and I hear her clattering around. I feel something on my shoulders and see Eugene wrapping her sweater around me. I send him a sweet smile and his wife is back with three cups of hot chocolate.

“Alright sweetie get to talking,” she says patting my arm. I look between the two of them and sigh. I tell them the whole story, from meeting Quinn in Vancouver to tonight. They never once interrupted or made me feel like a burden for dumping my problems on them. “Here let me get these dishes and we can take you to a motel for the night and figure out the rest tomorrow,” Eugene says gathering up the cups and walking to the kitchen. Martha, his wife, put her hand on top of mine and smiled at me. “I’m sorry all this happened to you. Michigan really is a wonderful place. I hate your visit wasn’t,” she said. As they close up shop for the second time tonight, I wait for them outside their truck. Everything in me said don’t get in with them, but what else could I do? My thoughts are shut down when I hear someone yelling my name.

“Y/n, oh my gosh. I’m so glad I found you. You scared the shit out of me. Please don’t ever do that again,” Quinn rushes towards me wrapping me in his arms. I let him for a second and then I push him off. He looks at me and I can tell he has been crying. I hear a door shut and see Jack get out of the car and walk over. “Who are you two,” Eugen says walking over and putting himself in front of me. Martha pulled me into a hug, noticing I was crying again. “I’m her boyfriend Quinn. Who are you,” his voice is mixed with confusion and anger. Who the hell was this guy trying to “protect” you from him?

“Last time I checked I didn’t have one of those,” I say staring him dead in the eyes. His whole face dropped. Jack stayed a little ways back and watched everything go down. “Baby, please don’t say that. You don’t mean it,” Quinn says stepping closer. Eugene slides over blocking me once again. I step out of Martha’s embrace and put my arm on Eugene’s shoulder. He looked down at me and I nodded my head at him. The two older people step back and lean against their truck watching the whole thing. I walked towards the man I loved and frowned. 

He took my actions as forgiveness and opened his arms. “No Quinn, I do mean it. You can’t actually believe after everything that just happened, I was just gonna jump in your arms and we ride off in the sunset?” He closed his arms and his body shook from the sob that left his mouth. “I will never ever be able to apologize enough for tonight. And I don’t think you should forgive me,” he says through tears. Seeing him like this hurt me, but he hurt me more. “Jack told me everything,” that was all he had to say. I looked behind him at the younger boy and he nodded.

“So you believe him? But not me,” I whisper barely being able to talk. “Y/n/n, please.” I shake my head. “Please what Quinn? I don’t know what you want from me,” I scream back frustrated. Jack walks forward and stands between us. I felt like shit putting him in the middle of us. “Please don’t leave me. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I know I hurt you more tonight than I have ever hurt anyone else. I know that if you tell me to right now I will walk away,” he started,” but you know what else I know? I know that I have never been happier than I have in the past months with you. I know that I screwed up my chance at happiness tonight. And I also know that I may just lose the girl I love because of my own stupidity.”

After his speech, he just dropped to the ground and cried. I look away from him and to Eugene and Martha. Then I look over at Jack, who is already staring at me. “You love me,” I ask squatting down in front of him. He picks his head up and looks me in the eye. “Of course I do, I just have the shittest way of showing it I guess,” he says and a small laugh leaves my lips. His face perks up at that. “I love you too,” I say wiping the tears away from his eyes. He grabs my wrist and holds them in place. He seemed scared that I would disappear if he let go. He closed his eyes and finally took a normal breath.

“I don’t deserve it,” he says opening his eyes and looking over at me. “You know the funny thing, Hughes, you don’t get to decide that,” I say dropping down to my knees and moving my arms around his neck. He doesn’t wait another second and his are around my waist. He holds me tighter than he ever has before. “I am gonna spend every day for the rest of my life making up for the way I treated you tonight,” he says into my hair. “I know you will. You are a good man, Quinn, I think we just both got a little insecure tonight,” I say back. He nods and holds me while we sit on the ground outside the diner in the freezing air.

When we got back to the house I figured everyone was asleep. I followed Jack inside and saw everyone sitting on the couches with worried looks. Their heads snap up when they hear us walk in. “Oh thank the lord,” Ellen says rushing over. She stopped right before she got to me and looked at me. I nodded my head and she wrapped me up in her arms. “I am so sorry for the way I treated you tonight. I judged you before I even knew you and almost ruined everything,” she cried and I shook my head. “It’s gonna be all right. We can start over,” I say and she pulls back. “I would really like that,” she says wiping some tears from her face. Slowly everyone started going to bed and it was just Quinn and me.

“I waited until I was with you to do this,” he says as I get in bed next to him. I look over and he pulls out his phone and blocks his ex on everything, and then her number. “Quinn you didn’t,” he cut me off. “Yes, I did. I am a happily taken man who doesn’t need any contact with my ex,” he says looking down at me. I smile and give him a small kiss on the cheek. “I never thought I would be so happy for a kiss on the cheek in my life,” he said making me laugh. “Baby steps, Quinn,” I say laying my head on his chest. I knew we would have to have a longer talk, and that everything wasn’t going to be fixed immediately. Things were gonna take time, but I knew Quinn was worth it.

[chrisbitchtree]

Inspired by this post from @ariesbilly!

***

Growing up with Neil Hargrove as a father, Billy was almost too scared to even think about being gay, let alone what his type might be, but he certainly never thought his type would be Just Some Guy™️.

Yet, now that he’s finally away at college and free to explore his sexuality, here he is in the cafeteria with Heather, barely two weeks into his first semester, trying to discreetly point out to her the guy he’s crushing on in his Intro to Psych class.

Steve Harrington. He of the shaggy brown hair constantly covered in a worn baseball cap, circular plastic glasses, and basic t-shirts and jeans. The most exciting his look ever gets is when he wears the baseball cap backwards. Billy swoons a little bit every time he sees him.

“Him?” Heather asks, after he’s confirmed that Billy’s not talking about the fifty other guys with plastic glasses and baseball caps dispersed around the space. “He’s so boring.”

“I know,” Billy replies, sighing. “I don’t know what it is, but there’s just something about him. Last night I had a dream that he was about to take off his glasses before he fucked me and I asked if he could keep them on.”

“Jesus, Hargrove,” Heather laughs as she steals a fry from his plate. “You’ve got it bad. So, what are you going to do about it?”

Billy has no clue. They watch Steve in silence for a couple minutes, until he’s joined by a girl that couldn’t be any more the opposite of Just Some Guy™️. She’s got on bright red Converse that appear to be completely covered in doodles, carpenters pants that are splattered with paint, and the world’s ugliest tie dyed bucket hat. Steve leans over to say something to her and she’s instantly laughing, swatting his arm.

“I don’t even know if he’s into guys,” Billy finally replies. “That could be his girlfriend for all we know. Opposites do attract.”

Heather gives him an affronted look. “First of all, bisexuality exists, jackass, and second of all, unless she’s cheating on him, she’s not his girlfriend. How do I know this, you ask?”

“How?”

“I fucked her last night. And we’re going on a date tonight.”

Billy’s shocked, but recovers to give her a congratulatory high five. His girl’s got game.

“How did that happen?”

“I saw her at that mixer I went to, thought she was hot, asked if she wanted to get a room and that was that.”

Billy shakes his head, laughing. “If only it was that easy for me.”

Heather stacks their trays and grabs them. “Follow me.”

Billy does, curious to see what’s going to happen next. His curiosity turns to horror as she marches over to Steve and his friend. Billy wants to run, but he takes a deep breath and follows her instead, trying to be brave for once.

“Hey Robin, can’t wait for tonight.” She greets the girl before turning to Steve.

“You into guys?”

Steve looks confused, but still nods slowly.

“Great,” Heather says. “You think my boy is hot?”

Steve nods more vigorously than before.

“Perfect,” Heather replies, a smile curling over her lips as she turns to Robin. “Bring him tonight. It’s a double date.”

Billy finally works up the nerve to look directly at Steve and sees a shy grin on his face. Their eyes meet and Billy grins back. Steve might be just Just Some Guy™️ to most, but he’s The Guy, The Only Guy, to Billy.

[heliads]

hii! i've been reading a lot of your four fics and i simply need more so here's my requestt, four x dauntless!reader and when she's going into the fear simulation she got scared of the needle so he calm her down. any pronoun is fine and if you don't wanna write it it's also fine lol, so no pressure. tysm i adore you!

y/n is so me for being scared of the needle

masterlist

Most people are scared of what is about to come. This is unusual– not that people would ever feel fear, just that they would show it. This is Dauntless, after all, the place kids born without inhibitions go for cheap thrills and a superiority complex. No one here likes to give off any indication of terror if they could avoid it.

This is different, though. This isn’t another day of Phase One initiation where you’re jumping over the sides of buildings or throwing a few punches. Those are tests, you know how to pass those. The fear landscape, however? Now that’s something no one has any clue how to handle.

The mystery surrounding it all just makes the whole experience worse. Even the few initiates amongst your numbers who’ve managed to win over some older Dauntless can’t glean a single piece of information from their already established compatriots about what you’re going to encounter in the simulations. It’s all in your head, literally. There are no limits to the nightmares your own brain can dream up.

Thus the first afternoon of Phase Two of Dauntless initiation finds a hallway lined with apprehensive trainees all waiting for their turn in the simulation. A couple of rooms are being used for fear landscapes at the moment, so there’s a slow trickle of traumatized initiates coming out of shadowy doors every few minutes or so. Some trainees take longer than others. Some are in there so long you half doubt if they’ll ever come out. All emerge looking like they’ve just had their heart ripped out of their chests.

The screams don’t make the waiting any easier, either. Every now and then, a shrill cry of terror will issue out from one of the locked doors, a clear hallmark of the mental warfare going on inside. In the beginning, everyone would jump the second they heard a muffled yell down the corridor, but hours have passed and fraught tempers have grown weary. Now all you do is sigh to yourselves whenever another victim screams, wondering how much longer you’ll have to put up with all of this before it’s your turn instead.

Waiting is only just that, though, waiting for some grander goal, and at some point, your time of waiting is done. A scared looking boy exits the door on the left, clutching his hands as if searching for wounds that aren’t there, and then your name is called instead. It takes a moment to get up, your body lagging half a second behind your brain, and then you’re out of your chair and down the hall before you even know what’s happening.

There isn’t much time to think between hearing your name and closing the door behind you. You look up and realize the room looks quite similar to the place you did your simulation prior to the Choosing Ceremony. At least there are no new threats. The only change from before is that, instead of some wary looking woman with sleeves pulled low over tattoos, you’re greeted with the sight of one of the initiation leaders. Four.

You can’t help feeling a slight rush of relief. Of anyone here delivering your test, you’d much rather have Four than, say, Eric Coulter. Four is just as intimidating, of course, but Eric’s got this way of making you uneasy. He’s too cruel. At least Four can be counted on to be fair.

Four gestures towards the chair in the center of the room. “Take a seat. Are you ready for this?”

You arch a brow as you settle yourself into an uncomfortable reclined position on the seat. “Was there a chance you’d let me out if I said no?”

Four might chuckle, either that or he was struck by an urgent need to cough. “No, there wasn’t.”

He disappears somewhere behind the range of your peripheral vision and emerges a few moments later holding a needle. It looks highly unpleasant, the metal gleaming in the dim light of the simulation room as if proof of how much this is going to hurt. This is Dauntless, however; this is not a place where you can afford to wince or shrink away from anything lest you see your rankings drop in a second.

You force yourself to stay calm, training your eyes on a bright red light on some machinery across the room instead of the needle puncturing your skin. The moment seems to last forever, and just as you’re certain that the simulation didn’t take, you blink and you’re no longer in Dauntless. In fact, you’re in the middle of nowhere, a broken down city where the wind whistling through shell-shocked skyscrapers sounds more like the howling of people than any tune of quickly moving air.

This is your fear landscape, then. It takes you a few minutes to struggle through that fear, and then you’re successively hit by a few you expected and some you didn’t, too. Hopefully, you’re making good progress, but there is no way to tell for sure. In fact, it’s hard to even remember that you’re in a simulation at all. The programming is too strong, too good at eliciting a fear response from your brain.

You defeat what you thought might be your last fear and find yourself in the simulation room again. Four is still standing over you, needle in hand.

“That didn’t take,” he said, “you’re going to have to go through again.”

He holds out the needle, which seems much sharper than before. This time, blood wells up when he injects you, and every second seems to stretch into hours. There is no light to stare at this time, and your eyes keep finding the needle again and again, no matter how hard you try otherwise. Your fingers clench into fists so long that you can feel your nails slice through your palms. Forcing your breathing to slow and steady, you inhale, exhale, inhale until you look up and Four is nowhere to be seen. The truth about being in a simulation comes crashing back to you, and you realize you must have finally woken up. 

Four walks back to you, brow furrowed. You wince at his expression, taking that to mean that you must not have done too well. It had felt like you weren’t struggling with your fears all that much, but maybe you were wrong.

“How did I do?” You ask tentatively.

Four shakes his head dismissively. “Fine, fine. Solidly above the average, it’ll keep your ranking where it is if not improve it. I just want to ask about your last fear.”

You feel the sudden need to look away. “I faced it, right? No problems there.”

“Yeah, you faced it,” he frowns, “but it made no sense. Are you scared of the fear landscape? Of me?”

You’re not sure if you want to laugh or run from the room. Both feel like solid options at the moment. “No, neither. I’m, uh–” You pause, trying and failing to muster up the energy to finish the sentence, then give up at last and spill your secret. “I’m afraid of needles.”

Four blinks at you in surprise, then laughs for real this time. He does his best to cover it up, of course, but he’s still unable to fight a grin.

You glare pointedly at him. “Thanks for the support. No need to make me feel like any more of an idiot.”

The corners of Four’s lips still stubbornly refuse to tamp themselves down into his typical stony expression. “Sorry, I swear. It’s just– needles? Really? This is Dauntless. You’ve done so many simulations. You’ll probably get tattoos. Needles are everywhere, and you came here?”

You give him a look. “There are other things to Dauntless than just needles, Four. I thought you would know that having, you know, lived here? Go make fun of some other guy’s simulation, mine is perfectly fine.”

“Well, you’re definitely not scared of me,” Four observes, “Still, it’s funny. Anyway, you’re right, I shouldn’t laugh. You’re free to go.”

Despite his solemn expression, his eyes are still twinkling with barely disguised mirth. You fight the urge to roll your eyes and let yourself out. Four’s voice rings out behind you, calling the name of the next victim of the fear landscape.

You don’t think you had that bad of a time of it, though. Sure, the simulation itself wasn’t the best of experiences, but what happened afterwards made all of the terror of it fade away somehow, slipping back into distant memory already. When you think about the fear landscape, you don’t recall the horrors of being inside your worst nightmares, just the way Four tilts his head back when he laughs, how easy it was for his cold demeanor to warm when he smiled at you.

Perhaps that is not why you view the second trial of the fear landscapes with as much dread as anyone else. Your friends are all huddled together with haunted expressions at the mere thought of returning, but you’re actually doing alright. Your spirits are only improved when Four calls your name again instead of Eric, and then you’re back in the simulation room and he’s smiling again.

It’s much easier for Four to revert back to that same state of good spirits. He hardly bothers with an initial glower at the beginning, already looking pleased to see you. It makes you wonder why 

Four holds up the simulation needle with a teasing expression on his face and you give him a sour look. “Don’t even,” you begin, and he holds up his free hand in mock surrender.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he assures you.

This time, Four pauses when he goes to inject you. He takes a seat on the side of the reclined chair, studying your expression for any sign of hesitation.

“Look at me,” he tells you, “not the needle, me. I know you’re going to be fine.”

Something about the way he says it, so confident in your abilities despite only having seen you go through the fear landscape once, erases the last of the worries from your brow. You settle back into the chair, and you swear that this time, the simulation doesn’t take nearly as long to kick up. The needle has hardly pierced your skin before you’re gone from this world and into the one devised by your mind. The last sight you see is Four leaning over you, and that’s the one greeting you when you wake up, too.

The simulations aren’t so bad after that. Part of that is because it’s hard to feel as scared when you know you have Four there on the other side, a calm presence believing in you every time. The two of you start talking more and more during your simulation time slots, and as you progress through the fear landscapes faster, your conversations grow in turn. 

One time, the numbers of initiates were swapped around a little as trainees dropped out and you had to do your fear landscape with Eric proctoring instead. You still got through it just fine, but the experience wasn’t nearly as enjoyable. You were with Four the next time, though. There were rumors that Four had complained and switched the order back to the way it was, but no one knows why. You have a theory, but you don’t dare bring it up to anyone else.

Soon enough, you’ve reached the end of Phase Two of training. After that, graduation from initiation is upon you, and you find yourself walking out of your final simulation with a glowing score. Your ranking is great, high enough that you should have no problem finding the job you want. It’s certainly the best outcome you could have hoped for, but somehow you still find yourself a little bittersweet that certain things will come to an end.

Four finds you later that night, standing at a railing looking over the bustling view of the Dauntless complex below. Everyone is active in some way, throwing parties to welcome in the new initiates or hurrying to tamp down their normal lives before everything is thrown into commotion by a new round of Dauntless jumping into the thick of things.

“You’re not celebrating?” He asks by way of greeting.

You lift a shoulder. “I will. I want to take a moment before all that, though. Just to reflect on it all. Initiation was hard.”

“Didn’t seem that way for you,” Four muses, “you were good the whole way through.”

“Even despite the simulations being my literal greatest fear?” You laugh.

Four smiles, but it’s quieter, more serious. “Even then. This was all you, Y/N. I was there, but it was you.”

You exhale slowly, look back over the city that might be yours more than you ever thought possible. “And now that it’s over? Will you still be there?”

You don’t dare to so much as glance at him lest you see yourself disappointed, but out of the corner of your eye, you can detect movement, Four turning to survey Dauntless as well. “I will be,” he decides at last, “I think I will.”

divergent tag list: @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @ilovexavierthrope, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

[bokettochild]

If Legend were to lose his memory, what would happen?

Oh boy!

(Warning, I got really into this! It's not a fic, but it might as well be LOL)

Full personality reset!

Legend is a hero who started young, and while there's not a lot in the games to go off of, the manga, official art, and some circumstances indicate that prior to LA he was actually a really sweet, caring, openly positive sort of guy with a big heart. Granted, he was still a smart-aleck if you read the manga, and got sassy and snarky at times, but he was generally someone I think most people would enjoy being around. But then LA happened, and then ALBW, and maybe a few more adventures (someone converted me to add Cadence of Hyrule to the roster but I don't know where). Suddenly, he's not only going through puberty, but he's dealing with world ending threats left, right, and forward. He can't catch a break, he's under a lot of stress, and the people he should be able to rely on either betray him or disappear.

Cue the salty vet we know. He's wary and guarded. He's still got a big heart and a great sense of humor, but now he's not ready to share those as much. He cares enough to protect the other heroes from injury or from Time's harsh words, but he's not ready to lower his guard enough to relax and be who he was. There's too much distrust, too much certainty that they'll be like all the other people he counted on and either disappear or betray him, or just not understand. Sure, they're heroes, but at most, any of them has only ever had two adventures. They don't get what it's like spending your whole life running around the world saving people and fighting monsters, to the point where you don't have time for family, for growing up properly, for establishing connections or support systems or any of the important things that the other heroes DO have time for.

Legend, as he is, is a wary and guarded individual who shields himself by using snark and jokes to divert attention away from his weaknesses and insecurities. Why? Because his past taught him to be like that.

What if you take away the memories of his past though? What if, suddenly, Legend has no recollection of the betrayals of Hyrule's Knights? Of the person he thought was a friend but tried to kill him once she knew what his bloodline was (Ghanti)? Suddenly, he only knows he's got scars and is in a lot of pain all of the time. He doesn't know why, but he has no reason to doubt that the people around him, who are like him (more Hylians! They've almost died out in his time, but here they are!) are telling the truth when they desperately insist that he's their companion.

Granted, he's still Legend, he's still got anxiety and that Bunny Spirit likely means he's wary by nature of things/people he doesn't know, but once he's given good reason, why shouldn't he accept these people? Why shouldn't he openly show emotion and care and warmth?

Meanwhile for the other heroes, it's whiplash. Legend got the worst side of a battle/dungeon/accident and they were all worried and waiting for him to wake up, but when he does? Blank. He has no clue who they are, where he is, who he is, or what's going on. Horror quickly overtakes them as they realize that holy shoot, did he lose his memories too?

I think in such a situation, Wild would be the one to basically take one look at another amnesiac hero and decide he's going to help out the best he can because, for once in Legend's life, someone knows exactly what he's going through. So what if Legend's suddenly more open and understanding? So what if he laughs off his lack of memories like a bad joke, assuring them that he's sure they'll come back? So what if suddenly Legend is teasing and playing around like someone his age would normally do? He's affectionate and warm and encourages the others, but his self esteem is utter and complete shit, which...their vet has his pride? This kid has some, but not in himself so much as that he has enough to not appreciate being made the butt of every joke or some such.

Memory loss doesn't tend to hamper a persons ability to accomplish tasks or know core information (history facts, how to write/read, stuff like that) so Legend still can wield a sword and fight beside them, but he's not fighting like normal because he's not adapting around their needs anymore, so it still throws them off. He doesn't cover their tails so much as dance around the enemy instead and kick ass. It's new, it's different, and this version of Legend no longer understands that it's important for him to hold back. (And once he realizes the armory he has at his fingertips, all his items, well!)

In general though, it's probably shocking for them. He's an expressive kid, he's got a big heart, he loves to laugh but sometimes he shuts down because the anxiety is winning and he no longer knows how to cope with that. It's Legend, yes, but it's Legend with all the shields and guards lowered, almost gone. He's instinctively scared of things that normal Legend is, but he doesn't know why, or that he's supposed to hide it. He can't tell them why the storms make him hyperventilate or why Wolfie's presence sets him ill at ease, only that it does and that hey, if I pass out, don't freak out okay?

He's openly affectionate, he's attentive and caring, he's warm and playful. He still snarks at those in authority and he still teases and jokes, but it's without that harsh bite from before. It's a strange thing for the heroes because as sweet as this kid is, they're being torn by two emotions.

It's sort of heartbreaking that behind all that hurt and wariness, there was this sweet kid. Seeing Legend like this makes them realize that he's essentially had his life stolen by adventuring and it's hurt him a lot, turned him into a different person. The contrast makes them realize just how much the adventures affected the vet and how little they really understand who he was before and how he was affected.

They miss him. Like, yeah, this version of him is great and all, but they've become used to having someone in their group who will bite and snap and hiss, and without that, it throws off their whole balance! Legend used to say what everyone else was thinking but had the good manners to not say, he was the conduit of their darker thoughts and feelings, and if he expressed things, then no one else needed to. Now he's not doing that so they ARE and the realization that maybe they're all a bit more jaded then they let on, maybe the soft is a little harsher, makes them all uncomfortable.

They want their guarded, harsh, veteran hero back, but the cost is losing the sweet teenager whose taken his place.

And I know you asked about Legend but hey, this would 100% set off some stuff for Wild too, because now he knows. He gets to witness firsthand how other people are affected when a loved one loses their memories and becomes a different person. I think for him it would shed some light on a lot of things, that maybe being without some memories is a blessing; it might mean he's a happier and kinder person than he used to be. But at the same time, the fact that the other heroes, and even himself when he's not thinking about it, still expect the body and face they recognize to act in certain ways, so when Legend doesn't, they get thrown off and confused, I think that would bother him. He tries really hard, but when he realizes that the others want back the traumatized and utterly broken version of his friend, it hurts part of him too because not only does this mean they want an unhappy Legend more (in his mind), it also means that people don't want the version of him that he is now either, because they probably want the old him back too.

I think Wild would be highly defensive over the vet, would be shattered at the others wanting Legend to turn back to normal because what's wrong with how he is now? Why does he have to be someone different? It's a loaded question because he means it as much about himself as Legend.

If Legend went without getting most of his memories back, or even just started getting a few but, like Wild, disassociating them from himself, or even if he got them back slowly and thus just processed them as they came, learning things but not changing back into who he was, I feel like it could mess with things. Wild is supportive and helpful. He sits with him and talks him through stuff, they discuss memories and coping mechanisms and Wild, a person who knows who Legend was before, is there to assure and give answers where he can. In such a case, I think Legend would slowly regain things, but like Wild, wouldn't become who he used to be just because he's got the memories back. He's more sedate than when he didn't have them, but he's not as harsh as when he had them all. He's quieter, deals with a lot of insecurities about it, but Wild is there to assure and help him grow and overcome and move past and he just...becomes a different person entirely. Because yes, same traumas and memories, but now it's like they're happening again for the first time, only he has support now, he has help now, he has a coping mechanism and ways to process it in healthy ways now and he just...grows around those scars.

Alternatively, if he did somehow recover all his memories, just like that, and went back to being his old self, I think we'd just have a Legend with a new story under his belt. Wild though? Wild would be utterly devastated. Everyone is so happy to have the old Legend back, they're glad he's not the version of himself without memories. They like him better like this, like how he's supposed to be. It's heart shattering for Wild becomes the implications that the people who know him feel the same way about him is heart-breaking.

As a note, I don't think the other heroes would be asses about the situation. They're just really glad their old friend is back because as nice as the other version of him is, it's not the version they know and share memories and experiences with. They would have accepted it if he'd never remembered, but the relief that comes with having him back to himself, having him predictable and familiar and balancing out their group and dynamics again, it's overwhelming because they missed him.

If he never recovered into who he was though, I feel like they'd still accept and embrace him. They mourn who he used to be, but this new version of Legend would understand. He'd feel bad that he's not who they remember, but he appreciates that they lost a friend and that they need the time. He's somewhat insecure, much like Wild, over not being who he was, but the Chain are all Links; they adapt, and eventually they grow around the loss and accept the new Legend like he's just joined them. I think he'd probably decide to use a different title, maybe call himself the Hero of Worlds since Legend was a different guy altogether, and it helps everyone move on better. The Hero of Legend is gone, and the Hero of Worlds just joined. It makes coping easier, growing around it easier, and it's better for World because they can talk about "Legend" all they like and it's like talking about a different guy entirely.

In the case of his memories coming slowly and him never coming back, I think they'd all learn to move on, adapt, and accept World in Legend's place.

In the case of Legend coming back fully though, I think the others would regard it as a crazy story to tell, while Wild would be utterly and completely shattered by it. He'd still accept Legend back of course, it's not Legend's fault, but he would struggle so, so much with the whole thing.

So yeah! That's what I think would happen!

[unclewaynemunson]

As always, the crazy talented @tennant-the-tigger managed to activate my Munson family feels by creating this masterpiece so my hand slipped and this happened :)

When Eddie first moved into Wayne's trailer, he wouldn't smile. The boy reminded Wayne of a ghost: pale, quiet... absent. Haunted, even. The first time Wayne saw a genuine smile on his face felt like a goddamn victory. But it soon turned out to be only the beginning of the hardest part: it meant that Eddie started feeling comfortable around Wayne. And for all Eddie knew, comfort meant danger. So he started lashing out, testing Wayne's limits, taunting him day and night, strategically aiming to drive him to his breaking point, to prove that good people didn't exist, that Wayne would never love Eddie, that he would give up on him as soon as it became too much work.

And now they’re here. Wayne doesn't have a clue how they got here, how they’ve managed to make it this far together. But they did. And somewhere along that road, Eddie has decided to start trusting Wayne.

His hair is longer now, his smile has reached a whole new level of brightness; he’s growing up. Rapidly. He’s been getting himself into some shady business and Wayne doesn't feel like he’s in any position to reproach him, can only watch it happen from the sidelines. Maybe he worries too much, because those shady business have given the boy his Sweetheart and managed to amplify that beautiful bright smile of his. So Wayne got to swap a shift with Jimmy and now finds himself sitting at the bar of some shabby old cafe, hiding behind a bottle of beer with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

And seeing Eddie perform is... Well, it’s a lot. It definitely isn't the kind of music Wayne would voluntarily expose his ears to, if he had any say in the matter. But Eddie is smiling from ear to ear all through the night and that more than makes up for the noise. He has this natural kind of showmanship that Wayne can't help but admire: the band is giving the three drunks at the bar a performance like the Hideout is some concert hall filled to the brim with thousands of screaming fans.

'This one's for my uncle,' Eddie announces in between two songs, wiggling his eyebrows towards the place where Wayne is sitting. 'Thank you for coming, uncle Wayne, I love you.'

He says those words so easily, up on that stage with a lamp shining way too bright in his face. Like it comes natural to him. And Wayne can only hide his face behind his bottle, the air knocked out of his lungs by how effortless and genuine it sounds.

The band bursts out into more ear-shattering noise and just like that, the moment is over. But the feeling in Wayne's chest stays with him through the rest of the evening.

He thinks back to that one night, barely two months ago, when Eddie had been raging, calling him all kinds of names, challenging him in a way that somehow seemed more vicious than any of his previous antics.

'You tryin' to find an excuse to hate me, boy?' he had asked, exhausted and hurt but still trying to be the voice of reason because he knew that Eddie couldn't help it, not really.

And that made Eddie freeze for a moment, eyes wide, tears glistering in the trailer's flickering lamplight.

'You're the one who's gonna hate me,' Eddie told him, trying to sound defiant but failing horribly in his delivery; his voice was trembling and his lip started to wobble.

And God, Wayne can still feel how that all-encompassing fear flared up in his stomach, because what the hell could Eddie have done to believe that Wayne would ever hate him?

One deep breath had been all it took for Eddie to get back to his anger; to throw the words at Wayne's face that he'd kick Eddie out because he was a queer and wrong and bad and dirty and Wayne would hate that, would hate him.

Wayne had been stunned for a long second, completely overwhelmed by the power that Eddie was giving him by telling him that. He understood exactly the complicated mixture of self-sabotage and trust brewing inside of Eddie, because Wayne had grown up side-by-side with the cruel man who raised this scared boy in front of him.

Then, he had done something that did not come naturally to him at all: he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around him, and held his nephew even though he tried to wriggle himself free; held him when he allowed himself to melt into Wayne's arms; held him while he cried against his shoulder; held him while he told Eddie that there was nothing wrong or bad or dirty about him and that Wayne wouldn't kick him out even if he killed someone.

He blinks and comes back into the present when the last tone of the last song dies out. Eddie jumps off the stage to run up to Wayne's spot at the bar, that smile still secured on his face and his Sweetheart still cradled in his arms.

'And? What do ya think?' He’s practically bouncing with excitement and Wayne can’t help but smile; Eddie might be growing up, but he’ll never really stop being that little boy – not to Wayne, at least.

He reaches out, pulls Eddie closer to let a hand land on his shoulder and rest his chin on his fluffy curls.

He’s never been good with big words, never been good with loving out loud.

'Proud of you, Eddie,' is all he can manage to say.

But judging from the way Eddie refuses to pull away for a whole twenty seconds, it’s exactly enough.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Do you think Twilight could have happened in a place other than USA without changes? Your post about lack of parking lots made me think about it. In my country you legally cant obtain a license until you're 18, and most people finish school at 17, so there aren't any school parking lots. In many countries there aren't blood taking days, in some people can't pick and choose their classes or their seat arrangements in class, or they have solitary tables. Could all these small things add up to not having Bella dead or undead until her natural end? /well, except for "Bella lives in Iraq and gets married off at ten" scenarios

Twilight's very American.

Being American myself, it's hard to judge, so @therealvinelle should probably weigh in with her non-American opinion. Or perhaps regale us with a Norwegian version of Twilight.

(Though for the record, I never did blood testing in class, though I also did comparatively little Biology and only did basic cell things. So perhaps it's standard and I just didn't go advanced enough.)

But yes, I imagine changes would have to be made. Whether they're changes we'd call in any way "significant" I doubt. Most of those things you mentioned are just plot devices used to give Bella information and to move the story along.

Bella nearly being hit by the van in the parking lot makes Edward reveal his supernatural abilities. If he hadn't done that, then Bella wouldn't have as much reason to question him/eventually question Jacob and believe him when he says "lol vampire". The blood testing was to give more clues, Edward purposefully avoids the class on the day they're doing it, knowing in advance and knowing it's a bad idea, and also reveal that Bella smells super extra delicious to Edward specifically. It got Bella and Edward talking after the van incident when Edward had been trying to avoid her and helped make "vampire" sound less silly.

Bella's taking gym as a required class is mostly so we the audience can laugh at her sympathize. It also reveals she's stupid clumsy which has plot relevance in that she will never ever win a fight ever. And she never does.

The prom is just so Edward realizes he has rivals and so at the end we get Bella in a hot outfit dancing with Edward in an equally hot outfit.

But they can all be replaced easily with other things.

Instead of a car, a light fixture can nearly fall on Bella's head, but Edward pushes her out of the way in time when he'd been across the room. For some reason, no one else noticed. The blood testing bit can be dropped altogether and be replaced with Jasper staring weirdly at someone's split lip. Bella on grilling Edward about what's up with that says something very vague and enigmatically mysterious. We can drop the upcoming dance and just have boys asking Bella out normally, and her avoidance of it becoming increasingly ridiculous to avoid drama, which intrigues Edward of course. And we can replace the Quileutes in the know with pick your group of people who are very insular/have a poorly recorded history/and are somewhat separate from the place Bella's in who can get weird about the Cullens.

The important thing is not necessarily 'what' happened but what it enabled and how it affected the characters. If the cultural is similar enough to America 2005 that Edward and Bella can get together in a very similar manner, then it's green lights go.

I can't think of a single thing that can't be replaced and keep the heart and soul of the story, every major plot point, intact.

Now, culturally, Bella and the Cullens as non-Americans could be significantly different, but Edward's mysterious hot charm would probably be culturally universal to Bella. And non-American Edward would still be Edward underneath the hood, he just has different cultural trappings.

[apocalypseornaw]

Where do I belong?

Post an argument with Mary you're uncertain as to where you fit into the Winchesters' new dynamic

This fits into the Always be Yours verse kinda fits in after Love is a Fight (Love is a Fight will get a part 2 also with Dean finding out Amara has her)

Warnings: Mary is a B (Also this is the her working with the b.m.o.l. storyline and of course she wants as many curious hunters out of the way)Cursing, mentions of sex

Dean was still half asleep when he rolled over in the bed seeking you out, hands searching for your body but coming up empty. He didn't think too much of it at first. You were up before him a lot of the time considering it took him longer to fall asleep. You were probably in the kitchen searching for coffee or some other caffeinated attempt at starting your day.

When twenty minutes passed and you'd yet to return he started to worry a bit. When he sat up fully awake and alert he noticed something was off in the room. Your shotgun wasn't under his, your boots were missing from the foot of the bed and the drawers that held your clothing were still cracked open as if you hadn't wanted to risk the noise by closing them.

No, not again. He hadn't done anything, Amara was gone and had long since relinquished any hold on him and even she had assured your worries weren't founded. She'd told you "Dean's heart belongs to you alone" He understood why you'd left then but why now?

He stood looking around the room for any clue as to where you'd gone or why, when his eyes landed on a carefully folded piece of paper in the center of the small table in the corner of his room. The photo of you, him and Sam sat atop it as if you wanted to ensure he found it first thing.

He walked across the room, moving the photo to the side he picked up the paper and unfolded it before starting to read

Dean,

Maybe Mary's right. I don't belong here, in your life anymore. I had no right to stay after some of the things that's happened. When Amara took me alongside Lucifer she told me that I had your heart but she also reminded me that I had betrayed you. I should've picked a stranger, maybe I never should've allowed myself to fall for you to begin with? Maybe it'd be easier. At least then when shit hits the fan your self preservation wouldn't go completely out the window in favor of keeping me and Sam safe. The truth is I think I knew I'd end up falling for you before the angels ever fell. When you called me after the trials, when Sam almost died I didn't hesitate to come to your side. Yes he is my best friend and has always been but I knew you'd need me worse. You've always been a good man but living with you, hunting shoulder to shoulder I got to see your heart also. From dancing in the kitchen to taking down monsters I will never regret the moments I was able to spend at your side. Do me one favor please? Don't come after me. You have your mom back! Your brother is safe and happy. I need to figure out where I belong. My heart is always with you and will always be yours.

Love,

Me

He threw the paper down before storming out of his room. What had Mary said to you? Mother or not what right did she have to come into his life and try to destroy one of the only good things he had. The one piece of happiness in this world that was solely his.

You were just shy of Sioux Falls when you pulled over. You didn't even know where you were headed. Your first instinct had been to go to Jody but her or one of the girls would surely call Dean.

You hadn't wanted to leave. Mary had spouted such vileness. How had she found out? Had Dean told her? Then she said you were holding Dean back that if he wasn't with you he could find someone else, possibly someone that could get him out of hunting.

The breaking point was when she said that it was a shame that one day one or both of "her boys" would end up dead because of you. "Just saying you must be pretty decent in bed for them to repeatedly risk their lives" it wouldn't have forced you out but Dean had gotten broken ribs on a hunt and Sam had been slashed bad enough had it not been for Cas stitches would've been needed. Yeah you'd gotten hurt but would they have made it out uninjured had it not been for you?

You decided to pull off and catch a little sleep. Maybe you'd feel better and be more clear headed after.

---------

You shot up out of a dead sleep feeling your heart try to leap from your chest. It was just a nightmare, flashing from Dean dying to you being tortured at Amara's hands.

You reached out to touch your gun you'd laid on the center console of your jeep. Something to ground yourself. You were fine, you were fine. You took a few deep breaths and reached for your phone before reality sat in. You couldn't call Dean.

@globetrotter28

You Belong Here

[yeehawbvby]

hii! i normally don’t request for fics but i really wanted to pitch an idea!

An Arven x reader fan fiction or hc list (absolutely whatever you want lol) for what happens for our characters between fighting the titans! Like the travel to get to each one, staying in the towns together while traveling, etc etc.

really just however you choose to interpret this, i love your arven fics so so so much 🙏

Tysm!! Ooo this is such a fun idea :D I hope you don’t mind that it’s just headcanons, and tysm for your patience! I hope you enjoy it x

Given how Raidon-adverse Arven starts off, he would refuse to ride the lizard at first. You two would begin the journey on foot. Once you grew tired, you would pull Raidon out and slowly trudge alongside a grumpy and sore Arven until he eventually gives up and agrees to hop on with you

I like to think that Arven would go to certain major cities with you along the way and wait around — maybe even watch — as you got your gym badges

This is what inspired him to make his own badges to give you! He felt a little bad that you weren’t necessarily getting anything out of helping him other than sandwiches (having no clue that you were simply happy with his company)

He’d insist you two try out all the cool new food each city has to offer, too

The two of you would probably camp more often than you stay in hotels or anything like that. Most of the time camping would be spent sharing life stories (lighthearted and not) around the fire and playing with your teams

Although he’s strong, Arven’s clumsy. That being said, if you tried to play soccer/football or something with him and your teams, it wouldn’t go well. He would be too prideful to let you bandage any injuries, but minor injuries would be a guarantee 

Arven would cook you dinner and breakfast at your campsites, feeling insulted (and maybe scared) if you even try to offer to cook in his stead

(he’s totally a food snob. If you aren’t a wonderful cook, he wouldn’t make you feel bad, but he would secretly be sooo upset)

He’d test out new recipes on you in the process, taking inspiration from the restaurants you visited in the cities

Those fun restaurant visits towards the end of the journey would fluster him much more than in the earlier stages. I don’t think he’d have it in him to ask for one to be a proper date, but it would sure feel like it after a certain point

With a little convincing, he might visit the 10 Sights of Paldea with you! 

(He’d just want to see the cute smile on your face as you basked in the views)

As you’ve probably figured out by now, Arven would fall for you slowly, but boy would he fall hard

If you happened to feel sick at any point, Arven would pay for a taxi to get you back home or at least to a hotel, despite any of your possible protests. At first, it would be out of a weird worry that you’d get Mabosstiff more sick; but if it happened later, it would be out of fear for your health

Lots of stargazing would happen. If you’re into astronomy, Arven would let you talk his ear off about all the constellations and whatnot, even if he didn’t find it interesting. He just liked seeing you happy and hearing your voice

Lots of hand holding!! In the beginning just to drag one another along if either of you veered off path, but after the first titan, it would be just a genuine instinct to hold hands as you walked around all the wild areas

The poor man is so touch starved that once it got to that point, there might be a lot of hugging too

If you two happened to share a tent, you might cuddle sometimes. He’d be all tsundere about it at first, like “Eughhh, I guess I’ll cuddle, if I HAVE to protect you/keep you warm/etc, you SMALL WEAKLING.” If he ever actually made you sad about it, his demeanor would change, and he’d welcome you with open arms

[magic-hcs]

Could I get horrortale papyrus, horrorfell papyrus, underfell papyrus, and undertale papyrus with a SO who has adhd and autism. There love Language is also like a crow (bonks for affection, small gifts, etc.)

Of course you can. I loved writing this! Thank you for sending it my way, I hope you enjoy it!

I definitely didn't go a bit self-indulgent with Charon’s bit, nope not at all, I don't know what you talking about.

Charon: UF Papyrus

Bean: HT Papyrus

Thatch: HF Papyrus

Time to cast some magic and see what we’ll get!✨

✨✨

Papyrus: Oh, this sweetheart adores you and your bonks. Papyrus is quite the affectionate fellow, so while his way to show affection are hugs and skelekisses he is more than open to accept your own ways of affection with open arms. He is also more than happy to return your preferred method of showing affection if that gives you the most comfort.

Papyrus finds it so precious that your love language is like that of a crow. When he first learns about it he is like “WOWIE! THAT IS SO FASCINATING.” Which 100% means that the first thing he’s gonna to do when he gets home is researching all about crow’s social behavior and their habits and behavior towards family and mates. He’s just so fascinated and curious! The next time you bonk him he has found a whole new layer adoration for you.

Papyrus keeps every single gift inside his closet, the place where he keeps his knick knacks and just everything that he has emotional attachments to or have meanings behind it - at least the ones that fit in there. The closet is a sort comfort space for Papyrus, so whenever he feels lost or stressed or feels like he has an existential crisis, he feels the need to be surrounded by comforting objects, hence the closet. Your gifts have a special section dedicated to them. It’s at eye level so he can easily find and look at them again.

✨✨

Charon: This man is a not so secret secret simp. I’m telling you, believe me. Like you may be sayin the most randomest shit ever out of nowhere with no context provided whatsoever leaving everyone going like “what?” Because they don’t see the train of thought you are going through. And Charon is standing there at the side absolutely loving. He finds it very endearing how at one point you could be talking about the weather and suddenly you bring up that “sometimes, dogs eat each other's poo”. It’s so out of nowhere it makes Charon burst out laughing or makes him at least chuckle sometimes. He finds your mind endearing he cant help it.

At first, Charon was quite confused with the bonks. He didn’t know what they meant or why you did them, but he appreciated it either way. Because it was you, his lovely mate who did them. But oh boy, were his cheekbones filled with a scarlet flush when he finally found out it was your way of showing affection. Now he just gets internally excited whenever you come up to him to give him one of your bonks. He may think he got himself together but it’s so obvious - to those who know him - that his face perks up slightly whenever a bonk is about to happen. Charon - mostly in private - returns your affection by placing a skelekiss on the top of your head or upon your hand. (A skelekiss is kinda like a bonk since he doesn’t have any lips.)

Gifts mean a lot to Charon in general. You have no idea how big of a thing it is to Charon, the first time you came bearing a gift for him, Charon was left speechless. Silently, gingerly accepting your gift while his gaze keeps flickering over towards you and the gift for a good while before he finally manages to utter so uncharacteristically quiet: “T-This is for me..?”

Someone save this poor boy’s soul, he can handle flirting and territorial behavior between mates. But this? This is something else entirely and someone, anyone, spare his poor soul from the warm flutterings that are erupting from within him like a volcano. You have no clue what you just did, or you did and you had planned this, planned to leave this man without a single breath left to gasp with. It’s quite the beautiful sight I must say.

Charon doesn’t know what to do or say, for you see; back in the underground, gifting a mate a gift is something big and something special because it is such a rare thing to happen. Monsters used to pick mates yes, but that’s more a fling than something serious. Leaving yourself vulnerable to another was a high risk to take, monsters used to trust no one. So when a mate gifts a gift it’s a display to everyone else to let them know that they and their mate are taken, and anyone that dares to mess with either of them there will be consequences. It’s only done when one’s sure they can protect the both of them from potential enemies that try to target either of them. But it is also a vow, an indication of their love and affection. Gifting a gift is practically a declaration: ‘you are the one that I want and the one I’ll keep wanting, I’m prepared to fight for us.’

Charon treasures every. Single. Gift you give him. Every. Single. One. You gave him a bracelet? He wears it every day with pride, it's the first one he puts on before putting on the other bracelets he has. You made him something? He has placed it proudly in his room or throughout the house. Charon doesn’t really make gifts, and he doesn’t call stuff he buys for you gifts. To him it's just something he bought for you. (Funny that actually, because if you buy him something he does consider it a gift.) Charon is more a person who cooks for his loved ones. So he definitely shows his affection by providing you delicious meals.

✨ ✨

Bean: His soul warms up with fluff whenever you decide to give him a loving bonk. Purrs rumble through him as your head makes contact with his bones. Bean finds great comfort in your crow like love language, it soothes him whenever he feels a bit stressed or had a bad day.

You two often share gifts together. Bean makes little music playlists for you or crochet articles of clothes like scarfs, hats and mittens, maybe even socks if you don’t mind. He really appreciates gifts you give him, although every now and again, especially in the beginning or on bad days, he's hesitant to accept them because he feels as if he isn’t worthy of them. Give him some time, he’ll come around once his inner demons have left him alone. Or you could also on the bad days leave your gifts in front or inside Bean’s room, somehow that makes accepting said gifts without hesitance much easier.

✨✨

Thatch: Oh stars, spare his poor soul. You are too precious, how do you exist? What has Thatch done to deserve you? Thatch loves you so wholly and deeply, it sometimes scares himself a bit. You could just be doing your own thing, something very uniquely you, and he notices, and he stills. He’s reminded by the soft warmth flooding his soul how much you mean to him.

This sweetheart practically melts into a goopy Lovestruck puddle whenever you give him a bonk.

No, really, believe me, I’ll tell you why.

Whenever you wanna give Thatch that affectionate bonk of yours you have to ask him to lean down or climb upon something to become taller. (There’s no other way to reach his face, Thatch is a tall boy, and when I say tall I mean tall.)

And whenever you do, Thatch already knows what’s going to happen and his poor soul can’t handle it. He can’t handle it, his cheeks are already getting hot, his soul is skipping around as if it’s dancing in the clouds, and all Thatch can do is accept his fate. The first time you gave him an affectionate bonk, you had K.Oed him. Frozen stiff he stood there, the only sign of life was that high whistle that slipped past Thatch’s teeth and his face that gradually erupted in a mahogany flush. But how could he not become a mess like that?

It’s just an affectionate bonk, but to Thatch it feels so intimate, as he stares with wide sockets into your eyes. It’s a priceless thing, the soft touch upon his forehead. The proximity of you renders his mind blank, he can practically feel your warmth and breath flutter against him like a loving whisper between lovers and it’s you, so completely you, and oh stars, he’s so doomed.

(And a purring mess.)

Thatch returns your affection (if he isn’t rendered stunned by the love that floods him) by tracing his knuckles oh so gently across your cheek.

Thatch has a hard time accepting gifts. Not that he doesn’t love them, he does, he just finds it hard to grasp that he deserves them. It’s harder than accepting affection because he can just stand there and let it wash over him, and be lured to lean into it. With gifts, he has to actually reach out and take it. Sounds easy, but to Thatch it isn’t.

Just walk up to him and get his attention, and then shove your gift in his hands. Thatch will automatically hold it on reflex. Immediately let go afterwards and tell him you don’t do ‘take backs’/thank him for accepting it, he won’t be able to try to refuse it for reasons like he ‘doesn’t deserve it’ or any of that nonsense. It’s rude to return an already gifted gift after all, and Thatch is a gentlemonster true and through.😉

But really, give him all the gifts! Shower him in them! He deserves it and he treasures your gifts dearly, yes even if it’s a shiny rock. Especially if it is a shiny rock.

✨✨

✨✨

Thank you for participating in this spell, I hope it was to your satisfaction.

[voxpraxis]

lately i've been... idk if you can really call it "debating" but i've been interacting with some muslims in the comments of an instagram reel in which a young girl was speaking to a young boy (i want to emphasize that they are both children) and telling him that she wasn't allowed to speak to boys until she was married, because her parents and her religion said so. the boy was sad but replied with something like "oh, alright" and the caption & comments were all talking about how "sweet" the situation was. i commented that i didn't think it was sweet, and actually that's a horrible thing to put in a child's mind. the post never directly mentioned islam and neither did i, but everyone who's been replying to me is proselytizing islam, so. anyway, these are the points that have been thrown at me so far:

it's not wrong because both genders are forced apart from each other

in response to me saying it still enforces an extreme divide between genders and encourages them to see each other as opposites rather than equals: the separation is necessary to prevent rape

there is no rape in islam because of the separation between men and women, rape only occurs in western society because men and women are not separated (...because apparently we cannot expect men to not rape women unless they're physically kept away from them at all times)

rape does not happen between family members, it's just not a real thing, ever (incest doesn't exist?)

if you're interested in a girl you should marry her immediately, because dating leads to cheating

men and women cannot be just friends because "islam and science and psychology says so." one guy said it's because "women can't talk about cars and sports"

(i also got called a simp for saying i have female friends. can't make this shit up)

in response to me pointing out that what the girl is saying implies that she won't have any say in who her husband is: arranged marriages are better because they always work out and unlike western marriages, they never end in divorce! (i'll give you one guess why that is.)

similarly, single parent families and suicide are solely western problems

men and women are NOT equal

i need to shut up and respect it because that's their religion

islam cannot be questioned because islam says islam is true

and that's not including all the personal insults and threats i've received, in just a few days.

i will say this is one of the least challenging "debates" i've ever had, in the sense that almost no point brought against me has any logical foundation and is easily refutable. but it's one of the most frustrating because the problem is that they won't hear me at all, because islam teaches its followers to never consider anything else. it teaches them to accept exactly what they are spoon-fed as the ultimate truth. and this is by no means a problem exclusive to islam, but islam does this kind of control better than any other religion i know. people raised into islam are not taught to think in any logical terms - in fact, they're deliberately taught to avoid thinking logically. logical fallacies are the rule. so not only can they barely form a coherent argument in favour of their beliefs, but they have absolutely no clue how illogical they sound sometimes. when i point out a lapse in logic in something they've said, the response i get is "no, that's true because islam says it's true." no other explanation required. at least, i've sometimes heard people of other religions attempt to use logic or science to prove their beliefs, but with the muslims in these comments, those are unnecessary things to be absolutely avoided - it's like they don't even understand why i'd bother to use them. you can't use logic to get through to them because they've been taught to avoid logic and cling to the mantra of islam-is-true-because-islam-says-so.

[ibrithir-was-here]

So the basic idea that came to me late at night for Baby Dream was more of less this weird little mash up of Matilda/A Little Princess and Definitely Platonic Dream and Hob : 

Baby Morpheus who's like, 6, is from a family with innate magical gifts, that are related to their canon ones but nowhere and near as strong

And one day  gets kidnapped by Roderick Burgess, who was trying to get his older sister Teleute but his henchmen grabbed the wrong one

So now Morpheus is being held in the basement (not in a glass case just in a locked room with some magical protection around it that keeps him from leaving)  while Burgess tries to figure out what powers he has and how they can be exploited

Morpheus in this stays silent out of terror/trauma more than any stubbornness, and he himself doesn't fully understand his powers so he doesn't know how to answer Burgess's questions anyway

His only source of comfort is his raven plushie Jessamy, who he held onto when he got grabbed

So of course one day Burgess rips it in two in an attempt to intimidate Morpheus into speaking

That night Morpheus in despair crafts himself a dream that when he closes his eye he'll wake up somewhere safe, where he'll be cared for and loved and never made to feel afraid (his home of course wasn't too great either, Night and Time are still terrible even as mostly human parents)

And so he goes to sleep, and dreams that he wakes up in a cozy bed in a room made just for him

And the kindest man he's ever seen is in the kitchen making pancakes

Hob Gadling would normally be surprised to see a tousle haired tot shuffling into his kitchen but this is clearly a dream so he's not that weirded out, and while he doesn't understand why this sad but sweet little Dream child is here--he doesn't look anything like the son he lost-- but he's still happy to play caretaker again for this one night

So he makes pancakes and plays games and reads stories and slowly draw the little Dream boy out of his shell until at last Hob tucks him into the little bed in the room that exists only in this dream--and the Dream child finally smiles up at him, and it's the sweetest thing Hob's seen in a long while

Hob wakes up wondering what on earth could have prompted such a dream, but happy overall he had a nice one where he got to take care of a child, instead of the nightmares he usually has about the loss of Robyn

And then it happens again, and again. Each night for a few months Hob dreams he's taking care of a tiny boy with the messiest hair and bluest eyes he's ever seen. And though he never says anything each night the Dream child becomes a little less fearful, a little more happy and open, and Hob finds his heart opening more and more to this little stranger who's come into his dreams

Morpheus meanwhile is still trapped, still subject to Burgess's abuse, but at least now each night he has an escape with the kind man in his dreams. Each night he "wakes up" in his room in Hob's dream version of his flat excited for the time they'll spend together and he's always desperate to stay in the dream as long as he can, dreading waking up for real to the dark reality around him, knowing that at this point the people who know he's missing have long stopped looking for him 

Hob however has started looking. He's sure this recurring dream must have some sort of meaning, he's never dreamed like this before, so consistently, so clearly. So he starts looking for clues online, if anyone else has had similar experiences. Finally he even has someone draw the child from his dreams, making corrections until it's as close as he can get it

And the picture once posted leads him to discover the disappearance of six year old Morpheus Endless

The moment Hob sees the child's photo he knows it's his child, the Dream child. And he knows he has to figure out how to help him. He doesnt know if Morpheus is dead--he hopes to anything he's not--but he's determined to find him and save him from whatever it is that puts the sadness back in his blue eyes each night 

Que Hob trying to wheedle things out of baby Morpheus each night about his location, as much as he can with Morpheus being six and  locked away and still not speaking

And Morpheus not being sure whats happening, his dreams are supposed to be his safe place where he doesn't have to think about the bad place he's in

And Burgess finally starting to reach the end of his rope with this stubborn silent child who's been more trouble then he's worth

 But of course Hob finally manages to discover where his Dream child is, and bursts in good old fashioned Fishbowl Rescue style and breaks down the door to Morpheus's prison

There's this long moment where they both just  stare at eachother, each not quite aure they're not still dreaming--and then Hob scoops Morpheus up in his arms, whispering that "it's ok now little Dream, you're safe"

And for the first time in months Morpheus actually believes it 

Hob takes him back to his flat that night. Morpheus's room doesn't exist in the waking world but he makes him a bed on the couch and tucks him in tight and safe, and that night Morpheus for the first time in months doesnt need to craft a dream to help him sleep 

(And once they've called the police and Morpheus gets returned home and Hob sees what a wreck it is there he gets him out legally (probably all the other Endless kids too) and gives Morpheus (and the others) a real home)