#tumblr deleted the last paragraph

[menacingdino]

Weirdest greatest phone call

Inspired by this post !

chap one — [ao3]

Steve living with El was.. Weird.

He’d assimilated some but her moving things around in her sleep with her mind was still a fresh feeling. And the three AM Eggo trips. He heard the toaster and knew it was his moment to be a big brother and give her emotional support.

Oh yeah, they’re kind of siblings. Steve got kicked out for his “sinful acts” (being gay). Then Hopper found him on his doorstop one day.

“Hey, um, I’m sorry but.. Can I stay for the night? I got no where to go.” He mumbled and stuttered in the rainy night. And soon that night became seven nights. To three weeks. To many months. To a fucking year with the sheriff and his quiet daughter. Which ended with Hopper going to court to legally adopt Steve. And fuck, his parents agreeing did hurt. But now he has a real dad. And a real sibling.

So a lot changed. The only consistency being his best friend Robin and his family video job.

Which was now being interrupted by a call.

“Hello, family video.”

“Hey, Steve.” His dads voice surprises him.

“Hopper? Are you okay? Aren’t you working?”

“Yeah, yeah all is good but listen,” Steve sighs, “I’ve got a 17 year old in the back of my car right now and he’s your type.” Absolute silence.

“What?”

“Yeah I showed him your picture and he thinks you’re cute, I also gave him your number.” All of Steve’s blood rushes to his face. Good God why is his dad like this.

“Dad!! Stop giving my number to random guys!”

“This is the weirdest greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.” The kid said loud enough for Hopper to hear but not Steve.

“C’mon he’s nice; for a criminal.” He mumbles that last part. “I’ll pay for you guys to go get McDonald’s or something.” Steve can see Hoppers face right now, brows furrowed with that ‘I’m your dad I know best’ look.

“McDonalds is.. A horrible date idea.” Steve chuckles. “But— Whatever I’m working and so are you. Bye.”

“Alright alright. Bye, love ya.” Steve says it back still having to get used to the affection. He hangs up before pinching his nose. At least he’s accepting?

“What?” Robin peered over Steve’s shoulder.

“My dad set me up with another criminal in his car.” He shakes his head as Robin cackles.

“Dude, you are lucky!” She pushes his shoulder, “accepting dad reeling in the bad boys.” She wags her eyebrows.

——

So it seems like Steve has a date. He tells himself he doesn’t care, he’s not going; but he’s still fixing his hair and wondering about wether or not his outfit is good enough.

“I’m home!” Hopper yells and Steve can hear El run over. But Steve’s still too busy frowning at himself in the mirror.

“C’mon, kid, you gotta get goin I told him you’d be there at 6.” Hopper reminds him leaning on the doorframe. Steve just groans and drags himself to the car.

“You have fun now! Be safe! Wrap it up!” Hopper yells out the door making Steve hit his head so hard against the steering wheel in embarrassment it honks.

——

Steve fidgets with his jacket at the Olive Garden table waiting for this mystery boy to show up. And then he shows up and God, his dad was right. This boy is his type.

He can’t even get himself to say hi back because he’s too busy staring.

“Um.. Hello?” The guy waves his hand in front of Steve’s face.

“Oh! Hi.” Steve finally snaps back to reality. “Um, I’m Steve.”

“Hey, I’m Eddie.” The guy— Eddie, gives Steve this kinda dorky grin. Steve’s gonna have a heart attack in the middle of this Olive Garden.

And fuck he has no clue what to say. But Eddie beats him to it.

“You’re probably wondering what I did.” Eddie says what Steve wasn’t gonna dare to. He shrugs. “I was just selling some weed.” He half way whispers. “Promise I’m not dangerous or anything.” Steve giggles a little.

“Well that’s good. I mean I didn’t think my dad would do all.. That if you were like charged with assault or something.” Oh my god Steve why would you bring up your dad.

“No, yeah, he seems cool by the way— For a cop.” Politics on the first date, very cool Ed. “Never had a cop set me up on a date with their handsome son.” He leans forward a little. And Steve is blushing, he’s never felt so easily flustered with anyone else.

“Well this may be his best pick so far.” Steve says.

“Oh so I’ve got competition?” Eddie tilts his head.

“Barely.” They are far too close now in public; but all Steve can think about is the big brown eyes that are in front of him. Eddie just hums and Steve can swear he sees his eyes drops to Steve’s lips.

The waiter comes with water and the two practically jump back getting a very suspicious look from her.

“…. Water?”

“Yes please.” Eddie says looking everywhere but the people near him. “I’m fucking parched.” He says the last part under his breath.

——

“Thanks for the dinner, Steve.” He hadn’t noticed until now that they were standing outside the restaurant Eddie was quite shorter. Looking up at Steve through dark curly eyelashes; he’s pretty like a girl.

“Yeah I enjoyed it.” Steve’s grin is giddy and almost innocent. They share kind looks in comfortable silence before moving to their respective cars.

——

“So?” Hopper grins into his coffee cup; much too late for coffee.

“It was good..” Steve can feel the blush on his face and he just sneaks into his room before he can endure further questioning. Screaming into his pillow and kicking legs.

“It was good..” Steve can feel the blush on his face and he just sneaks into his room before he can endure further questioning. Screaming into his pillow and kicking legs.

“It was good..” Steve can feel the blush on his face and he just sneaks into his room before he can endure further questioning. Screaming into his pillow and kicking legs.

“It was good..” Steve can feel the blush on his face and he just sneaks into his room before he can endure further questioning. Screaming into his pillow and kicking legs.

——

“So?” Hopper grins into his coffee cup; much too late for coffee.

“It was good..” Steve can feel the blush on his face and he just sneaks into his room before he can endure further questioning. Screaming into his pillow and kicking legs.

[m1d-45]

Okay last little idea and I'll leave you be for a bit

Xiao actually responding to the names the creator gives him. Little Friend, Pretty Bird, ect. No matter how far away you are, if you call those names, he has to stop himself from turning into a bird and flying away at that very moment. Those pet names are as much his name as any other he's kept.

-sibling anon

me when xiao

in his time with you in his adeptal form, xiao has never told you his name.

and yet, he still hears you.

if he’s in the area and the wind brings him the softest call of “you here, little friend?” he morphs in an instant, instinct taking over as he flies to your summons. he ducks through the trees, landing gracefully in your outstretched hand, meeting your wide smile with a chirp.

“there you are,” you mumble, and he ruffles his wings in an approximation of standing straighter. he is here. for you.

he’s commonly perched on your index finger, or your thumb if he’s eating from your palm. you only feed him simple almonds, yet it tastes of a delightful meal, energy coursing through his body. he’s careful not to nick your skin in his eagerness, but nobody could blame his enthusiasm if they knew what he felt.

by sitting in your hand, he is rested. by staying at your side, he is healed. he still upkeeps his duties, ever vigilant, but he’s quicker now, spurred on by something—someone—to return to. his place is at your side, and he hates keeping you waiting.

even when he has to.

xiao crossed his arms over his chest, staring off at liyue’s plains while he waited for the traveller to finish talking with… whoever. he honestly wasn’t paying attention. all he was there for was the lost adeptal artifact that the commissioner had promised he had, and then he would be on his way.

the man said something with a tilt to his tone. the traveller laughed. xiao grit his teeth.

“friend? little buddy? where are you?”

the call pulled at his soul as every other name he held, and he itched to answer.

paimon made a comment, an ooh! tossed somewhere in the middle, and xiao snapped.

“can we wrap it up? this is not a proper use of an adeptus’ time.”

the man swiftly apologized, handing over the totem, and xiao all but snatched it from his hand. a ‘farewell’ may or may not have slipped from him in time for the traveller to hear, he wasn’t sure. all he knew was that one moment he was dropping the totem off at his room at the inn, and the next he was leaping off the balcony, shifting mid-air to fly towards you.

he let out a loud cry when he spotted you, tucking in his wings to dive. you saw him and held out your hand, a motion so familiar that the actions to land were muscle memory.

he flared his wings, slowing his fall, flapping once, twice, before settling on your index finger. your thumb reached up, as it always did, and he leaned into it, repressing a coo at the feeling of it smoothing over his back.

“there you are, my pretty bird. where were you?”

a shiver rolls down his small body at your words, and he hides behind your thumb. you had many names for him—little friend, blue bird, simply blue—but pretty bird?

your pretty bird?

he’s hot in a way he can’t identify, a melting mix of emotions filling his chest. pride, admiration, adoration, even, all blurring into a messy film that covered his mind.

you turned towards your camp, keeping the hand with him perched close to you. “doesn’t matter. you’re here now, pretty bird. i missed you, you know.”

and you missed him?

xiao’s known for a while that the one on the throne wasn’t truly his god, but now he’s wondering if you were. the swell of confusing feelings was proof enough; were you anybody else, mortal or immortal, god or adepti, he’d have surely struck you down for your behavior long ago. cooing over him as if he were a mere household pet, feeding him scraps of crushed fruit, calling him such names as ‘pretty bird’- he’d have morphed back the second he was strong enough, held his blade to your throat and called you insolent and ungrateful. he’d leave you with a scar, and yet here he was, apologizing for the one he did leave in any way he could.

you carefully poured some almonds pieces in your palm, and he shifted to your thumb as you sat. were you anybody else, you would be dead. but your eyes are still open, carefully watching him, and your heart still beats blood. he can feel your pulse through his claws, sometimes, and often finds his own slowing down to match it.

you had an adeptus eating from the palm of your hand, and yet you were none the wiser. you simply propped your head in your free hand, a gentle smile on your face.

“my pretty bird,” you said quietly, and xiao’s eyes closed of their own volition.

yours.

[its-rat-time-babey]

Rain World Artificer Headcanons:

(This is talking about a post-Scavenger King Artificer by the way)

The Artificer cannot ascend, that part is obvious, but the true extent of that inability to ascend is insane. Her killing of the scavenger king permanently bound her to the world in every single sense of the word.

When a creature dies of old age or generally natural causes in Rain World, they reincarnate as another member of their species (or whatever is genetically closest if their old species is extinct) in the same cycle. The higher karma and therefore less bound to the cycle the creature is, the less the creature remembers of its past life.

But the Artificer is so low in terms of karma (even when compared to other creatures at karma level one) that when they reincarnate, they remember EVERYTHING. Even other creatures at karma one forget something, however small that thing may be, but not the Artificer. They remember their past lives like it was yesterday.

But that’s not all. The Artificer is so bound to the cycle that the very cells and DNA in their body remembers what it was like before reincarnation, and after being reborn as a new slugcat, the Artificer’s body will slowly change back to that of the old Artificer over the course of several years. Her fur falls out to be replaced by dark red fur, her body heats up until plants like bubbleweed burn at the touch, her spit slowly becomes more flammable and sticky, one of her eyes loses its vision, etc.

Her Citizen ID drone also always eventually comes back to her as well, as Citizen ID drones were built with the intention of being able to find their old owners after they reincarnate.

And finally, the Artificer can’t just not ascend. She can’t become an echo either.

Despite the Artificer disappearing when attempting to ascend with the implications that she became an echo, we never see a slugcat echo in any future campaigns. Even the Saint in their pilgrimage to see every echo doesn’t see her. In the same game where whether or not you ascended as a character like the Hunter affects the next campaign, that seems strange. So I’m running with that information and using it for whatever I want.

You become an echo when you attempt to ascend, but there’s something preventing you from ascending fully. Something binds you to the world and holds you back, so you get stuck in between existence and non-existence and become an echo.

The Artificer fits all of those requirements for becoming an echo. They attempt to ascend but her anger and past violence holds her back, so she should get stuck in between life and death and become an echo. But that doesn’t happen. The Artificer is so angry and full of violence that instead of getting fully stuck between existence and non-existence, she ever so slightly tilts the balance towards existence, as her low karma just barely outweighs the process of ascension and she comes back to the physical reality.

Or at least her conscious does. Her body is completely vaporized by void fluid for understandable reasons (it is some kind of hyper-acid after all), so the only thing that actually comes back is her consciousness, which immediately has to reincarnate into a new body. It also takes a long time for her consciousness to actually leave the void, several years in fact, but it eventually happens. So void fluid ascension is basically just reincarnation with extra steps and a several year delay to the Artificer.

Even the Saint would struggle to ascend her (and with how the Artificer just keeps coming back, she’s probably still around somewhere by the time of the Saint. (Probably thriving with her naturally high body temperature and ability to create heat making it easy to live in the ice age)), with the Artificer either shrugging off the Saints ascensions or taking multiple ascensions to stay down. And even then they’ll eventually come back to the physical world. The Artificer is permanently bound to the cycle and nothing can remove them from it.

The Artificer (or at least my version) is basically the Anti-Saint. The demon to the Saint’s angel.

Both are slugcats that are permanently bound to the cycle, with even void fluid being unable to ascend them, but:

The Saint cannot harm others.

The Artificer is a destructive force of nature that sent the entire scavenger population into a permanent dark age with her violence and destruction, leaving countless dead in her wake.

While the Saint cannot ascend themselves, they selflessly ascend others, even those that cannot ascend like Iterators.

If you take the game mechanic of death taking your karma level down by one as more than just a game mechanic, then the Artificer actively prevents other creatures from ascending by killing them and by doing so, lowering their karma.

The Saint is an echo and therefore exists in a state beyond the cycle.

The Artificer is permanently bound to the cycle and exists in a state permanently within it.

The Saint’s cycle is never-ending and bound to a certain point in time, with ascension bringing them back in time to the beginning of their journey.

The Artificer is bound to a cycle, but that cycle forever moves forwards in time, with ascension and death by old age just making them reincarnate into a new body at the beginning of its own new cycle.

The Saint is the last slugcat in the timeline.

The Artificer is one of the first, beaten only by the Spearmaster.

The Saint is the living personification of Karma Ten, the highest level of Karma and the Karma amount required for ascension.

The Artificer is the living personification of Karma One, the lowest level of Karma and the furthest you can possibly get from ascension.

[trollcafe]

Beloved do you keep track of your biological descendants at all?

"Yes, I do! It started as a passion project of sorts, creating a sort of...Lineage Tree to track where each branch of the Monark line went and ended. I know of every biological Monark alive currently. Would you care for a rundown on each of them?"

[cant-think-of-anything]

Hiiiii, how are you? First of all I wanted to tell you that I love the way you write, I really want to be as good as you. 🥺 Anyways, I was thinking that angst never too much, so I was wondering if it was possible for you, when you're free, to write a Thomastair using that CC prompt where a person was dying and saying something about hiding their love for each other... I just can't find anymore😅

Sorry to disturb you and sorry for my English, it is not my first language, I hope you can have a good time!🥰

Half the reason this took me so long was because I COULD NOT decide on an idea, first they were in the institute, then they were in a train, then they were in paris, I wrote a solid five paragraphs for each idea before I decided I hated it, but it's done!

And I have a hard time following exact dialogue prompts so I loosely followed the words, but the general idea is there

Also thank you so so much it all means a lot to me, it makes me really happy when people say they like my writing <3

tw: implied character death (?) and violence

"Alastair!"

Thomas stood at the foot of The Institute's steps, lingering as the last of the Enclave members filtered out and brushed past him to reach rows of parked carriages. A meeting had been held in an attempt to sort out the business of the recent attack, but more answers had been demanded than answered. Thomas had spent half the time watching the sun inch down through the window.

Now, it was well past sunset, with a faint drizzle that promised rain. Thomas hesitated before calling Alastair's name again and moving forward down the pavement. Alastair, who had nearly made it to the end of the street, slowed and came to a very reluctant stop.

Thomas could read the distrust and hesitance in the tense set of his shoulders. But he drew closer, close enough to touch but far enough that he wouldn't.

Alastair tipped his head back, watching him with dark, expectant eyes.

Thomas stared for a moment, wanting to memorize the feel of Alastair's eyes on him, rapt and careful. They'd barely exchanged more than fleeting glances since the Leviathan attack, and it left a dull ache to settle in Thomas's heart.

"It's late." He said finally, knotting his hands together.

Alastair's lips twitched upward. "I know that."

"It's a long way to your house. It's not safe." Thomas winced when Alastair eyebrow raised and hastily "I know you are beyond capable of defending yourself. But considering how concerned you were for my safety, this only seems fair.”

A pause followed his words before Alastair closed his eyes and muttered “Just leave me be, Thomas.”

Thomas’s gaze flicked over the dark shadows under his eyes, pronounced by the dim streetlights. His heart twisted at the signs of clear exhaustion scrawled over Alastair’s face, but his resolve only hardened.

Thomas shook his head when Alastair’s eyes opened, motioning ahead of them. “We will get caught in a heavy rain if we don’t start soon.”

Alastair made an exasperated noise in the back of his throat but he turned, shoulder brushing Thomas’s chest, and started walking.

—-

Alastair had decided to keep his eyes trained on his own shoes for the entire walk home. Whatever reason Thomas had to insist on accompanying him home did not mean he had to acknowledge him at all. However difficult to ignore that he was.

Instead he picked out the faint noises he could hear from the houses they passed, amplified by Shadowhunter senses. The clattering of plates, music (some good, some unbearable), children laughing.

His house was nearly always silent now. It was difficult to imagine the piano being dusted off and used again or that his unborn sibling could laugh so freely there.

His thoughts felt tangled, torn between bitter jealousy and longing, he quickened his pace on the smooth ice and- he lost his footing.

His heart lurched with violently, his mind releasing a slew of curses that didn’t quite make it to his mouth. He reached out an arm to blindly catch at the railing beside him in panic, but before he managed to, he felt the sudden pressure of something wrapping around him, and pulling him steady on his feet.

Alastair froze, going completely still as his mind caught up with where Thomas’s hands were wrapped around his arm and his waist.

“Careful,” Thomas said quietly.

His arms stayed where they were, and he very clearly seemed to be waiting for a response. Alastair blinked several times before nodding, his mind a haze of how cold it was with the rain beating down faster and how warm it was in the circle of Thomas’s arms. Ridiculous, Alastair thought to himself furiously when Thomas moved away, tilting his head down so that Thomas in all his insufferable height couldn’t see his face.

He stared very determinedly at the patches of ice as he walked, too aware of Thomas’s presence beside him.

“It’s- are you sure you’re okay?” Thomas said sounding a little bewildered.

Alastair slowed, glancing at Thomas. “You caught me.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’ve never seen you lose your footing. I’ve barely seen you get caught off gaurd. You seem very…” He trailed off and gestured vaguely to Alastair’s face. “Distracted.”

“With my sister traipsing around alone in Paris completely vulnerable, and the Enclave finally starting to crumble the one time it's could be useful? Yes, I'm distracted."

"Cordelia isn't alone in Paris."

"She might as well be," Alastair grumbled, shivering slightly when the wind turned bitter. "She-"

Alastair cut himself off, straightening and frowning into the narrow alley they were about to cross.

The chill he'd felt from the wind was replaced with a different sort of chill; one that accompanied adrenaline.

He stopped short, throwing Thomas a warning look and pressing close to the building that surrounded the alleyway. He peered around the corner, feeling a little ridiculous as his eyes adjusted to the dark.

There was a harsh slash between where the streetlight reached and where it did not, but on that border Alastair could see small tendrils of shadows curling out towards the pavement. Shifting his eyes up, he could see the rough, unfamiliar outline of what must have been a demon.

The chill he’d felt ran completely cold. There should’ve been no demon that was unrecognizable to him, to any Shadowhunter, but this one was.

Even if the Academy’s teaching was less than adequate, every child was required to know what they would grow up to fight. This creature wasn’t in any recorded history Alastair had ever studied. And without the knowledge of a demons strengths and, more crucially, it’s weaknesses, even the most skilled fighters had a slim chance.

He pulled back swiftly when the demon stirred, nearly crashing into Thomas. Thomas was looking at the alley with his eyebrows furrowed before he shifted his eyes down to Alastair. He gestured across the street at a footpath that was nestled between two buildings. Alastair’s eyes snagged on the fire escape jutting off the second floor as they began walking, still casting cautious glances back at the alleyway.

"I've never seen a demon like that," Thomas said in a low, tensed voice.

"I haven't either.”

Alastair had already found a foot holding on the rough wall, hoisting himself up onto the rusted fire escape. It was just tall enough to shield from the demon, and he felt nearly dazed in relief when Thomas followed without a protest.

Thomas dropped his head into his hands, his face tense and confused. He had drawn his legs up to fit on the crammed platform. "I don't understand. We've studied every demon in the books but neither of us can recognize this one? How do we kill it without knowing how?" Thomas asked, his head lifting to watch the shadowy, now far away demon.

"We've studied the demons that we've fought. This could be something that only dwells in a different realm and considering that we aren't on the best of terms with any of the Princes of Hell..."

"But why would we become targets? If they really are in Belial's control, wouldn't they be soley attempting to target those who carry his blood?”

Alastair went silent. His hand drifted to the weight pressed against his side. A knot in his chest tightened.

"No," he whispered softly, understanding dawning on him as he reached under his coat and drew out a long, golden sword. A faint glow emitted from the blade that lit up the surprise on Thomas's face. "He would target the people carrying his weakness."

---

Thomas stared - well gaped might've been a better word, at Cortana. He could feel his pulse quicken as his eyes lingered on the sight of the sword in Alastair’s hands and immediately and viciously stopped that line of thought.

There was a dim light that Cortana emitted, one that rested on the uncertainty in Alastair's eyes. The way he was holding the sword, so lightly that it was almost slipping away, made his discomfort clear.

Of course, Thomas thought. It was Cordelia's sword, but a part of Thomas wanted to shake Alastair and remind him that it was his birthright as much as it was hers.

He doubted Alastair would appreciate that gesture though, so he waved his hand weakly at the sword. "If the demon truly is Belial's I can imagine Cortana would be useful."

The look Alastair gave him was almost desperate when he shook his head and held out the sword. "You fight with it."

Thomas's eyebrows shot up and he placed his hand over Alastair's on the hilt, pressing down so that Alastair's grip tightened. "That's a terrible idea, I'm not a Carstairs. Why can't you weild it?"

"It's not my sword."

"I don't think the demon will notice."

“Thomas-“

“Alastair. And it is your sword. By blood, at least.”

Alastair scoffed and let his head fall back on the building wall behind him. There was a long pause before he started, haltingly, "Cordelia deserved the sword. The sword chose it's bearer, it saw that I wasn't worthy. Cordelia is, she has a good heart, she wants to be a hero, but solely for the good it will do for others. And-" Alastair gently placed two fingers on either side of the swords edge, one sharp one dulled. His voice sounded achingly tight."That is the kind of heart this sword chooses."

Thomas hands tightened on his sleeves, suppressing the urge to reach out for Alastair. "I don't believe that." He cut off the protest Alastair was surely going to make quickly. "I believe that the sword chooses it's bearer, but I don't believe that you're any less worthy than Cordelia. If Cortana truly can see into the purest intentions of your heart, I don't believe that you would be found unworthy."

"You of all people should know that isn't true."

Thomas shook his head. "Cruelty for the sake of self preservation does not indicate the goodness of your heart. It's been a long time since then, Alastair. This path... it was the path you took when you were protecting me, isn't it?"

Alastair nodded stiffly, his eyes hard glass.

"You have a good heart. Take the sword now. I promise as soon as we're done, I'll lock it up in box until Cordelia comes back."

Alastair's lips twitched. "She'd have your head for that."

"A small price to pay if I've managed to make you believe me." Thomas felt a jolt of pain in his chest as soon as the words left his mouth. He hadn't meant for the words to sound so soft and unsteady, it gave away too much of what he was trying to forget.

But it felt close to torture, to see him in pain and be unable to do anything but talk. His heart ached to pull the other boy close, to run hands through his hair, and to whisper promises until he believed them.

Thomas felt a breath catch in his throat when Alastair turned to look at him with sudden intensity burning in his eyes. It was jarring, given how hard Alastair had been trying to push him away for the past week, how the gaurdedness in his eyes seemed stronger than before.

But now, he was staring at Thomas, almost consideringly, with thoughtful eyes and a startlingly open expression.

Something about the way his face looked, vulnerable but determined, was too similar to the way he'd looked in the Sanctuary. The light from Cortana relfected off his eyes the same way the candlelight had then, and Thomas felt his thoughts drown into the absolute mess his heart was.

The rain was still falling, faster now, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before the demon would find them, but he helplessly wished that the demon was just a little stupider and would grant them more time.

"Thomas?" Alastair asked in a low voice.

Thomas managed a nod, clasping his hands tightly together.

Alastair's gaze was heavy and calculating as he placed his hands very gently on Thomas's. Somehow, the contact still sent a jolt through Thomas, reducing his mind to a completely unusable scramble.

Slowly, he unclasped his hands, turning one up to catch Alastair's and reaching the other out to grip the front of his coat. He couldn't remember making the decision to move forward, he could only hear the soft, surprised sound Alastair made when their lips met.

Alastair pressed closer, his hand settling against Thomas's heart, and filling his senses with the brush of his eyelashes and the softness of his lips. The world had gone quiet, the pounding rain melting into the sound of Alastair's heart pounding against his hands.

He had tried to memorize the feel of Alastair's lips against his from the Sanctuary, but the dizzying rush of emotions that surfaced in reality could never be fully captured by memory. His hand had slid up to Alastair's hair, damp from the rain, as he felt what little comprehension he had left unravel from Alastair's gentle kiss.

He felt Alastair pull away, but he stayed in the circle of Thomas's arms. Thomas opened his eyes, feeling more than a little dazed, and looked down at Alastair.

“Thomas,” Alastair started softly. His eyes were shining with the kind of rare vulnerability that made Thomas feel irrationally protective.

But Alastair cut himself off before he could speak again, turning his face to the street with a frown.

Thomas felt him stiffen in his arms. Thomas felt a similar alertness wash over him, replacing warmth with watchfulness.

He looked at the road, the focus of an impending fight sharpening his senses. Through the rattle of an occasional carriage and the relentless fall of the rain, his ears pricked at the scuttle of claws on pavement.

Thomas couldn’t help the somewhat childish groan he let out as he, very reluctantly, reached for his weapon.

He fixed Alastair with a determined look, throwing out an arm to halt him from jumping off the platform. He very valiantly ignored the way his heart pounded in response to Alastair's rain damp curls falling into his flushed face, begging him to forget the demon altogether. "We will continue the conversation. Promise me.”

Alastair looked at him, surprised. “Okay. I- I promise.” Quieter, almost as if he wasn’t talking to Thomas at all, he added “I won’t walk away again.”

Alastair pulled away then, reaching for his weapon with cold determination settling in his eyes. A little more regretfully, Thomas did the same and then lowered himself back onto the ground.

He heard Alastair land softly next to him as the demon crept around the building corner and was fully illuminated by a nearby streetlight.

And it was… terrifyingly ugly. It somehow looked like all of the demons he’d encountered and like none of them at all. It’s skin was the same sickly white that James and Cordelia had described Belial having, and it’s eyes were focused hungrily on Cortana, gleaming in Alastair’s hands.

It lunged forward, with startling speed, into the darkness of the alley. They both pulled swiftly away from its trajectory, pressing against the walls. As soon as it crossed the shadows, the darkness seemed to almost shift.

Shadows curled unnaturally in a mass that surrounded the demon, and the alleyway grew darker, as if it was surrounding them too. The demon moved to Alastair, a flash of claws catching Cortana’s light as they came down. Panic reared in Thomas’s mind and instincts bade him to raise his blade.

Alastair slashed Cortana in a shimmering golden arc before he could move, tearing through the demons chest. Alastair pulled back, ichor dripping from his blade as he whirled it back in front of him defensively.

Thomas narrowly ducked away from the demon as it reared back, the shoulder of his jacket tearing when the demon clawed at him.

Thomas slumped against the wall beside Alastair, breathing hard. “It’s too fast.”

Alastair nodded, his eyes snagging on the tear in Thomas’s jacket, a hairsbreadth away from his skin. “No patrol teams cross this area tonight.” His voice was low and urgent. “We have no help.”

“I know.” Thomas muttered. He gripped his blade tighter as the demon righted itself, crouching low as if it was going to pounce. He tried to snuff out the fear that was pounding in his heart.

The demon leapt, a dart of movement that was too fast for Thomas to do much else than slash blindly upwards, his blade connecting with its target. But this time when the demon swiped at him, it succeeded.

He felt a flash of heat on his chest, adrenaline mercifully blocking out the pain as he staggered sideways. The demon made a rough snarling noise, and through the haze Thomas could see that he’d cut across its eye. Which seemed to have done nothing but effectively enrage it.

When the demon stalked towards him, Thomas couldn’t raise his weapon, his movements weak and sluggish.

Fear finally managed to cut through the cold focus as the demon reared forward, claws glinting. He felt something roughly shove him out of the way. Alastair.

He fell against the wall, his vision blurring. Poison, he cursed, fumbling for a stele.

Alastair had pushed himself directly under the demon, Cortana raised defensively. The demon slammed down, and the horrible shriek of claws scraping metal filled his ears.

Thomas staggered towards him, panic screaming in his ears. Desperation surged through him, Alastair could not be harmed, but the poison already had its hold on his body, draining all of his strength.

Through unfocused eyes, he could see Alastair, whose face was burning with determination and anger as he drove Cortana forward. Thomas heard the demon screech distantly, as if through a muffled screen. He vaguely registered crumpling against the wall.

He closed his eyes and time seemed to bleed together. Not, he thought dryly, the only thing bleeding. He could feel pressure on his chest, but he couldn’t remember moving his arms. He could hear something, a word repeating like a bell chiming. If a bell could ever sound so desperate.

He opened his eyes with effort, black spots crowding out his vision. He recognizes what word he’s hearing.

It’s his name, whispered over and over and it’s Alastair who’s saying it. He’s only inches away, his beautiful eyes crowded with tears.

Distantly, Thomas could feel the drag of a stele against his neck and the throbbing subsided enough for him to hook his hand weakly around Alastair’s. Alastair’s eyes flew up to his, the relief in them heartbreaking.

The rain was falling fast, running in rivets through Alastair's hair and down the slope of his face and for a hazy moment, Thomas's only comprehensible thought was that if that was the last sight he would see, he could almost be at peace. Alastair was safe.

“Keep fighting, Thomas, please,” Alastair muttered, his voice breaking.

He could feel the stele moving in the shape of an iratze, though the more Alastair drew, the more his precision unraveled.

“It wasn't real,” he murmured. He felt his chest itch in a weak response to the iratze. Darkness was crowding the edges of his vision, but Alastair still burned as bright as he always did.

“What? Are you delirious?” Alastair’s voice was low and panicked. “Hold on, I- please-”

He shook his head, his hand curling weakly on Alastair’s shirtfront. Sudden clarity rushed his mind, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of his desperation to talk or the army of healing runes scrawled on his skin. “Please I-I need to tell you. I’d spent too long attempting to convince myself that what I felt for you was hatred or indifference, but I cannot die with you believing that. It was never hatred and it never could be. I love you, and I need you to tell me that you believe me.”

His throat burned with the energy it cost to speak and his breaths grew shallower. He tried to cling to his consciousness, but he could feel his mind slipping and the pressure in his chest grow.

Alastair’s grip on him tightened almost painfully. Thomas could feel him shaking, from the freezing rain, from his own blood that now coated Alastair’s hands, he wasn’t sure.

“I won’t,” Alastair whispered hoarsely. “You’re asking for me to say the last words you want to hear, but I won’t, not like this. You can’t die, I-”Thomas felt strong arms wrap around his stomach, hauling him up. “I won’t let you.”

Somehow Thomas’s hand found his. Sound and sight seemed to bleed away. The cloudiness in his mind draped heavily like a blanket, and the pain dulled to nothingness.

He could only feel the press of Alastair’s hand, and he clung onto it like a promise as the darkness finally pulled him under.

I'd just like to say that I started writing this before the whole "demons are attracted to alastair and cortana" thing!! I couldn't say anything about it then but I felt very, very smart

Taglist: @spooky-drusilla @thewarthatsavedmylife-blog @ikissedsmithparker @life-through-the-eyes-of @littlx-songbxrd @alice-got-the-blues @the-ethereal-aura @taylorjamie @melanielocke @styxdrawings

[alfredosauce50]

I’m writing the Avatar finale and I’m crying and vomiting. Will put down some songs for y’all to listen to so you can cry and vomit while reading it too

[rpschtuff]

What is going on with cutting posts?

You may have seen some posts floating around lately about the beta editor and trimming reblogs, and possibly found yourself extremely confused trying to figure out what this tangled web of editors, extensions, and add-ons even means. I’ve been on this site for years, and I still find the whole thing terribly confusing.

So this post is my effort to explain everything -- legacy vs beta, New XKit vs XKit Rewritten, editable reblogs vs trim reblogs -- everything. This also doubles as a tutorial for the various methods of cutting posts.

TL;DR

Tumblr is in the process of switching to a new post editor that some old users have opted into, while new users have been forced into it.

The old Editable Reblogs extension does not work with this new editor, requiring people to use a new extension called Trim Reblogs.

Trim Reblogs and Editable Reblogs are not compatible. If your partner uses Editable Reblogs, you cannot cut their posts properly using Trim Reblogs (unless you’re willing to do some tedious and frankly unreasonable workarounds).

The only way for everyone in the RPC to cut their posts properly and efficiently is if everyone moves to the new system and uses Trim Reblogs. Clinging to the old system with Editable Reblogs is actively creating issues for the people using the new system -- some of whom do not have a choice.

Cutting Posts

Cutting posts is the act of removing older replies on a thread when reblogging it. This goes by several other terms, including trimming replies/reblogs or any variation of that wording, but I will be referring to it as cutting posts to avoid confusion with the Trim Reblogs extension, which will be coming up a lot.

Typically, when cutting a post, you only keep your latest reply and the reply from your partner that immediately precedes it. This means that instead of a thread looking like this...

It would like this:

Or like this, depending on the method used:

In either case, the first post is gone while the second and third post remain.

Cutting posts is done so that threads aren’t all extremely long on the dashboard. When there’s three short replies like this sample, it’s not that bad. But imagine a thread with twenty replies where each is several paragraphs long. That would require people to scroll and scroll and scroll to get past it. And since the same thread would be reblogged multiple times, your dash might become the same posts, over and over and over again, with only one new addition at the end each time.

Cutting posts is extremely common Tumblr RP etiquette. Many people won’t follow you if you don’t regularly cut replies, due to how irritating the alternative is.

Copy and Paste (Outdated)

Once upon a time, you used to be able to cut replies without any kind of extensions. Unfortunately, those days are gone.

That method worked as follows. You would go to reblog as usual...

Copy and paste the last reply, putting it in a blockquote (or using any other formatting you like, really), then add your own reply underneath.

Then you can simply hover over the older replies and click the red X in order to remove them.

And this used to work. But now, the very first post in a thread cannot be deleted -- only later reblogs can. This means that the first post will always stay above the others, no matter how far along in the thread you are.

So since cutting posts can’t be done normally, we have to rely on browser extensions. This is where things get complicated. And also where I need to explain the different editors.

Legacy vs Beta Editor

Every time you make or reblog a post, you are using Tumblr’s post editor to do so. This is the area where you type up your post, add images, etc. Tumblr has been using the same editor for several years now, and it’s called the legacy editor.

However, Tumblr has been slowly rolling out a new text editor, called the beta editor. You may remember the beta editor when it was first rolled out a couple years ago as a buggy, unstable mess -- that’s not the case anymore, and it’s no more buggy than the current editor. For text posts, it’s functionally pretty similar, and even has a few features that some of you might want, such as easy colored text and the ability to make posts non-rebloggable. (Photo and other posts are fairly different, and I know gif makers have some pretty understandable reservations and complaints about it, but I won’t be covering that here.)

Older users have the option to toggle between the legacy and beta editors at will, while new users (starting around November/December 2022) are locked into the beta editor and cannot switch back to legacy.

To check which editor you have, go to make a new text post and look in the top right corner.

If you see either of these:

You are using the legacy editor, with the option to switch between the two.

If you see this:

You are using the beta editor, with the option to switch between the two.

If you don’t see anything at all, you are using the beta editor, and cannot switch.

While the text interface of the two editors isn’t terribly different for roleplay purposes, the methods by which you need to trim reblogs are entirely different. Each requires a different extension -- specifically, a different version of XKit.

XKit

XKit is a browser extension designed to add features and functionality to Tumblr. It includes many quality of life features such as a mutual checker, better tag tracking, queue improvements, ad blocking, more detailed timestamps, and so much more. (It was preceded by a similar extension called Missing E, if you’ve been here long enough to remember that.) And among all of these many features is the ability to cut replies.

The original XKit is no longer in use, having stopped updates in 2015 and being entirely unusable now. However, a few new versions of XKit have popped up throughout the years.

New XKit & Editable Reblogs

A different team created New XKit as a successor to the original, a similar extension designed to restore many of the same features.

New XKit’s feature to cut posts is called Editable Reblogs. It works by adding a pencil button to the left of the post when you reblog.

Clicking that button will break the post’s formatting -- actually changing it to how Tumblr posts used to be formatted -- but allow it to be edited however you wish.

So in this instance, I could simply select the first reply and delete it before adding my new reply underneath.

Editable Reblogs is only available if you use the legacy editor. It does not work with the beta editor and does not even appear as an option.

XKit Rewritten & Trim Reblogs

In 2020, Tumblr began to roll out its updated dashboard, which is now permanently in effect for all users. While the new interface looks very similar, the code was actually entirely redone, and behind the scenes functions very differently from the older dashboard. As a result, some of New XKit’s features no longer work as intended -- though a few still do, such as Editable Reblogs.

In response, the New XKit team decided to similarly start from scratch and created XKit Rewritten, another iteration of the add-on with similar features once more. However, not all New XKit features are available on XKit Rewritten, and vice versa. Many people are running both extensions simultaneously to take advantage of features on both.

XKit Rewritten’s feature to cut posts is called Trim Reblogs, and it works completely differently than Editable Reblogs. With this, you first need to save the thread to your drafts with your reply already written.

You’ll see a scissors icon appear along the bottom of the post. Clicking that will open the trimming options, letting you select which previous reblogs to delete.

Clicking Trim will remove the selected reblogs.

You can then click post. You’ll note that this method preserves Tumblr’s formatting, as opposed to Editable Reblogs, which breaks it.

EDITED TO ADD: Apparently you don’t need to already have your reply written in your drafts anymore. You can save the post to your drafts without adding anything, use trim reblogs, then edit the post to add your reply. Either works fine.

This method does have two major issues, though. First, if the first post of a thread was created in the legacy editor, then the system gets really buggy and just doesn’t work.

This is what happened when I tried it out. Initially, it seemed to work as expected.

However, when I posted the reply, or simply refreshed my drafts, this happened.

Attempting to trim again simply caused this to repeat. There is no fix for this. This means that for this method to work, both you and your partners need to be using the beta editor.

EDITED TO ADD: You can fix this double posting by either using trim reblogs before adding your reply, or by adding your reply, using trim reblogs as intended, refreshing your drafts, editing the post, and clicking the red X to remove the first of the double postings. I have a better guide here.

The only other alternative is to move the thread to a fresh post when you reply, so that the new first post was made with the beta editor. Then you can cut future reblogs of the post using Trim Reblogs as normal.

However, the other major issue is that if your partner uses Editable Reblogs, you cannot use Trim Reblogs as intended. Let me show you why.

Say I want to reply to this post.

I’ll add my reply and save it to my drafts, as before.

You may have spotted the issue already. The first and second replies are now “combined” so that Tumblr sees them as a single post. We want the post to be interpreted like this, so that I can remove the oldest reply while still keeping the one immediately prior to mine.

But Trim Reblogs can only see it like this.

When I go to trim reblogs, I can only remove the previous replies as an entire unit. I can’t remove just the oldest reply and keep the one immediately prior -- either it all stays or it all goes.

This is admittedly better than nothing. However, most people do want to keep their partner’s previous reply for reference, and just to have on their blog. This means a lot of people using Trim Reblogs simply don’t cut their partner’s posts at all.

You might be able to get around this issue by combining it with the outdated cut and paste method I described above. When saving to your drafts, paste your partner’s last reply above your own, using a blockquote or whatever formatting you like to separate the two.

You can then use Trim Reblogs to remove the first post, leaving only your copy pasted reply. The formatting is broken, but it’s at least workable.

However, this will only work if the very first post of the thread was made with the beta editor -- since people using Editable Reblogs have to be using the legacy editor, you’re likely to still run into issues on a lot of posts. Which can again be solved by moving the thread to a fresh post made with the beta editor, but at this point we’re stacking so many issues on top of each other that I really can’t blame you if you just don’t want to bother with any of them.

All of this brings me to...

It’s time for the RPC to collectively switch to the new system

I’ve stuck to the legacy editor myself due to the issues described above -- using Trim Reblogs when everyone else still uses Editable Reblogs is an enormous pain that I don’t want to deal with. Even as I make this post advocating for people to switch, I’m dreading actually doing it, because I know that most of my partners still use the old system and I will have nothing but headaches.

But the thing is, everyone refusing to switch is what’s creating the headaches in the first place. If we all moved to the new system together, these issues would simply disappear, and we would all be able to effortlessly cut our posts using Trim Reblogs without ever having to worry about it again.

The RPC needs to collectively make the switch, for two reasons.

First, Tumblr is going to switch everyone to beta eventually. Refusing to switch now is really just delaying the inevitable -- it’s not a question of if you’re going to be forced into the new system, but when. By switching now, you can go ahead and get used to it and start giving feedback to both Tumblr and the XKit Rewritten team if you find anything buggy or broken.

Second, as I said above, new users are locked into beta, with no option to switch back to legacy. Trim Reblogs is their only option for cutting posts -- and as long as most of their partners are using Editable Reblogs instead, they cannot cut their posts properly. Their only option is to use a series of increasingly ridiculous workarounds that most people won’t understand. The fact that it took me 1500 words just to explain everything should tell you how confusing the whole thing is -- you can’t be that surprised when a lot of people, upon realizing that they can’t cut posts without a whole lot of tedium, decide to just not bother cutting them at all. The best way for everyone to be able to cut their posts properly and efficiently is for everyone to be on the same system.

Yes, the beta editor is different. It has some weird quirks. It will be a bit of a learning curve to get used to a new system of replying to threads. But this is a change that’s going to happen eventually, and is a change that needs to happen for a lot of people to able to cut their posts properly.

(It’s also worth noting that -- assuming you still have the option to switch -- you may be able to toggle between the two systems during the adjustment period. I haven’t been able to test this yet, but I see no reason it wouldn’t work. Use Trim Reblogs whenever possible, and especially for the partners that have already made the switch. But when you get to a reply that it just won’t work for, toggle back to the legacy editor and use Editable Reblogs just for that thread. It’s a bit annoying, but it could be the middle ground needed to help people start making the switch. And once the majority of the RPC is on the new system, then this won’t be an issue anymore.)

[cowgurrrl]

Nobody asked but here are my headcanons for Joel as the ultimate girl dad™️

Gets Ellie into a routine as soon as possible so she knows what to expect in her day-to-day life. There’s not much he can guarantee outside of their home but he can make sure she eats, does her homework, and is off to bed at the same time every night.

Speaking of bed, he’s the dad who has a STRICT bedtime set. He can’t sleep until he knows Ellie is safe in bed and even though she’s a teenager he still makes her be in bed by 10 but he absolutely can be persuaded to let her stay up with a long game of cards, guitar lessons, or a movie.

Before Ellie, he would’ve been reckless if it meant keeping Jackson safe but now that he knows she’s relying on him he does things slower and safer.

Maria teaches him how to cut hair so he can help Ellie because he knows how hard it is for her to trust other people especially when they have something that could be used as a weapon so close to her head.

Definitely pushed her into the river while teaching her how to swim. She was pissed and didn’t talk to him until after dinner.

Ellie becomes known as “Joel’s girl” and neither of them correct anybody who says it

Slips notes into Ellie’s backpack when she’s not looking so when she gets to math class and opens her notebook, a sticky note with Joel all-caps handwriting falls out and reads, Why was the toilet paper unstoppable? And on the other side it says, because it was on a roll

He laughed about it for ten minutes before forgetting about it

Ellie secretly keeps all of his notes in a box under her bed

Teaches her how to play football in the spring when all the snow has melted and accuses her of cheating when she scores against him

“How could I cheat? It’s fucking football!” “You’re abusing an old man, you know that?”

Although Ellie never calls Joel dad, there’s an unspoken agreement between them. Joel hated Father’s Day after Sarah died but that Father’s Day they settled, two bouquets of flowers show up on the dining room table with a note from Ellie.

Saw these and thought of you, the note reads. One from me and one from her.

He cries the first time he gets them. He can’t remember the last time anyone gave him flowers.

Lord help the teacher who has to call Joel in for his first parent-teacher conference in twenty years. Everyone is Jackson knows how protective he is over Ellie and her teacher is only slightly terrified of him.

Ellie constantly steals Joel’s shirts and he pretends not to notice

He’s always looking for new tapes for her Walkman and asks every group that comes through Jackson if they have anything

Ellie ends up with three new tapes to listen to by the end of their first year of being settled

Joel knows he’s probably doing a million things wrong and danger is always lurking and the time they have together is fleeting but he does his best to be good for her. He apologizes when he yells, he shows up to her first guitar recital, and constantly reminds her how loved she is even if there aren’t always words exchanged

Sometimes it’s a hug, the squeeze of a hand, or a ruffle of hair but they both know it means so much more. Giving and receiving affection would’ve been seen as a show of weakness in Boston, a vulnerability that others can play into. Here, love doesn’t have to hide or be shunned to the dark corners of their lives. They can just be.

Who knew Ellie tripping Joel while playing football in the spring meadow meant so much more than anyone else thought?

Tumblr if you delete my last paragraph one more time I’m going to gnaw my arm off

[gemini-sensei]

If for some reason poly! Daniel and Amanda's sweet little housewife thinks that she should get a job to contribute more, I feel like Daniel and Amanda would be the type to just hire her as their "personal assistant"

What better way for their sweet wife to provide for them than by being there to "relieve stress" in their offices throughout the workday?

I already had this all written out and almost done to post and Tumblr fucking deleted it and I fucking can't be bothered to write it all out again, so here's the last paragraph I was working on.

Imagine Daniel getting a couch for his office, one big enough for all three of them to fool around on. Reader isnsotting between them as they play with her, their hands on her inner thighs and up her shirt. They're riling her up so she'll climb onto Daniel's lap and take what she wants. When she's riding him to high heaven, dropping her weight on him, and Amanda is playing with her and sucking on her tits while holding a vibe on her own clit. They're so messy and a little loud that everyone at the dealership knows what that couch is for but never mentions it.

[ajhediting]

Hello Tumblr Writers!

Are you having trouble organizing your thoughts on the page?

Does your writing feel repetitive or incomplete?

Do you just want someone to look over the spelling and grammar?

Let me edit for you!

Services I Offer

Proofreading is checking spelling, grammar, punctuation, and layout. This is the most basic kind of editing but actually happens last—it’s very difficult to properly proofread something that is disorganized or needs more work. If you've already gone over everything and are sure it's all where it's supposed to be, I recommend the proofreading service to catch the grammatical and spelling errors that you might've missed.

Copy editing includes proofreading and checking the formatting and style. This would include making sure everything follows the style guide you’re using, such as APA, MLA, or CMoS. I recommend this more for academic writers because professors and journals are usually very strict about following style guides.

Line editing focuses on the flow of the writing on a paragraph level—things like word choice, sentence structure, and concision. I recommend this service if you feel that you're having trouble finding the right words to communicate your idea or if your writing feels too wordy.

Content editing focuses on the flow of writing on a chapter or section level—things like rearranging or deleting paragraphs and pointing out incomplete sections to improve readability. I recommend this service if you want help organizing your writing or identifying places that need more work.

Types of Writing I Edit

Fiction

My favorite genres are fantasy, sci fi, and horror, but I can edit whatever genre you write

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Persuasive essays, informational texts, instructional guides, etc.

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Academic

Anything you’re going to submit for a grade or evaluation

I have degrees in applied linguistics/discourse studies, anthropology, and psychology, so I’m best able to edit those subjects and related or similar subjects

For other subjects, message me about your writing and I’ll tell you what I can do with it

To avoid issues of academic integrity and fraud, I offer more limited services for academic writing. Message me for more information

Minimum 1000 words (about 4 double-spaced pages)

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Proofreading: $15 USD per 1000 words

Copy editing: $17 USD per 1000 words

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Rates may be negotiable on a case-by-case basis.

If you feel self-conscious about the quality of your writing, don’t worry! I understand that English is a difficult language, that getting words on the page is a hassle, that sometimes what's in our brains doesn't want to show up on the page (there's a reason I'm an editor and not a writer). I'm not here to judge your handle on language; I'm here to help you express your ideas and communicate effectively with your audience. I also have experience working with ESL writers and can explain both the basic rules of English and the complex things that even native English writers have trouble with.

[cartmankisser]

KYLEEEE WRITE KYLEKYELE KYELE PLS ANYTHIGN PLS KYLE PLS PLSPLSPLS KYLE 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 IM OM MY HANDS AND KNEES PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLE KYLE PLS

....kyle fans are so

-- i feel like out of the main boys, he would be one of the more emotionally intelligent ones. he isn't scared to talk about his feelings with you and he's open when he's upset. it might seem a bit annoying, but honestly it's helped to prevent so many arguments and instead you two have open and honest conversations.

he's not the greatest at reading your emotions though. i mean he can tell when you're upset with him, but sometimes he can never understand why! maybe it could be something small or a buildup of other feelings... he always makes sure that he approaches you first though,, to let you know that he knows your upset and that it's okay to talk about it!! that it's okay if you're mad at him as long as you're honest about it and you two can work through the problem.

-- he can be a bit of a stereotypical romantic. he's a momma's boy, so in my opinion i feel like he'd go to her first for romantic advice instead of his dad.

so from her advice mixed with all the cheesy teen romance films he watched for a reference, hes definitely a bit cliche when it comes to romance. but he's still being super genuine!! no matter how fabricated his dedications of love might seem, that doesn't make them any less truthful!

for example: i feel like he would like taking you to the park! he's always over there because of his little brother, so he knows all the cool spots for romantic late night walks and cute picnics in the shade! (without his brother there, of course)

-- let's be honest, kyle doesn't have the best confidence. he's always a little concerned about what other people think of him. sometimes this little insecurity (idk what else to call it) can lead to some bumpy paths in the relationship. he loves you a lot! he really does! its just that sometimes he gets in this mindset that no one likes him,, so he often needs reassurance from you

and adding onto that, i feel like it would make him extra protective of you as well. cartman and others at school might walk over him sometimes, but he won't ever let it happen to you, too!! he's so ready to kick some ass for you. whether it's insensitive comments and questions from cartman, butters on his usual women-hating behavior (/hj), or any of the boys in his class who are trying to be flirty with you!! you're his!! and he's gonna defend you! even if that means getting detention

(just in case because tumblr has a habit of deleting the last paragraph of my posts.. ignore this)

[scaranation]

Hey I ADORE UR WRITING...SENDING ALL LOVES TO U... btw can u write a headcanon about how alhaitham or zhongli or wanderer would react to a really short fiesty y/n?

THIS IS V LATE IM SO SORRY HAHA anyway im alive now so I finally finished the prompt ! i interpreted it romantically by accident but I hope you like it anyway ehehe

༊*·˚ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑

ft. Alhaitham, Zhongli, Wanderer

Content: Fluff, headcannons, it's all enemies to lovers, Scara's part is a little short but so is he 🤭

a/n - ignore the spam e's at the end tumblr kept deleting my last paragraph whenever i tried to edit so i got mad and made sure the only thing i'd lose were the 3847394 e's i typed

ALHAITHAM

At first, he couldn’t ever see himself falling for someone like you. And if he were to date you, he’d definitely have to fall quite far - after all, you were so short, he practically had to trip over himself in squatting to talk to you. What you lacked in height, however, was made up by temper.

The first time Alhaitham had met you, he was very much taken aback by your personality. Instantly, he categorised you as the irritating, distracting type, filing away your existence in his brain as he droned out the sound of your voice.

“Grand Sage! I’m here to get approval for my research paper, and-”

“Acting Grand Sage.” Alhaitham corrected you without even looking up from his desk. Your words didn’t even register to him, as he left the interaction to his subconscious as to save his own energy.

“Acting Grand Scribe, whatever. Anyway, here’s my thesis, can you look over it now?”

“The approval process takes a few days, you can leave it here.”

“Oh, okay! Thank you, Grand Sage!” You chirped, scurrying off before Alhaitham could point out your error again. He spared a cursory glance towards the paper you’d left on his desk, raising an eyebrow.

“Height: an in-depth study into the role of genetics versus upbringing in contributing to an individual’s vertical stature.”

Alhaitham tutted. The title wasn’t concise, and the premise of your project lacked nuance. He idly flipped through the pages, already preparing to reject it.

"This project will feature an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban who struggles with height in order to establish a deeper understanding... Hm. Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We've seen countless projects like this before." Alhaitham mused, stamping the front cover with bright red rejection and putting the paper aside.

It wasn’t long before Alhaitham found you at his office once again. However, you’d shed any semblance of politeness you’d had before, only fuming as you marched right up to his desk and demanded an explanation for the rejection of your research project.

“Well, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a thesis like this. The Akademiya needs not waste its resources on previously covered topics, hence I suggest you find a scholarly pursuit more worthy of your time.” You clenched your hands into fists at the irritating way the Acting Grand Sage didn’t even glance at you, his eyes still darting over the paper he was currently reading.

“What’s so interesting about what you’re reading now, then?” You snapped, slamming both hands on the hard wood of the desk. Your arms faltered a little as pain shot up from the impact. You tried to bite back a wince, but Alhaitham noticed. He had to fight to keep an amused smirk down as he finally looked up at you.

“This? It’s a study into the applicability of natural selection in society. Of course, it fuels some questionable - and incorrect - ideals, but it has piqued my interest. Rest assured that it will also be rejected.” Alhaitham’s tone was condescending, and it only made you more frustrated.

“Why are you invalidating my experiment?”

“Don’t take this so personally, I have nothing against you as an individual.” The Acting Grand Sage chuckled. Your demeanour reminded him of a fiery chipmunk, and he tuned out the sound of your incessant rambling.

Even your cheeks looked like a chipmunk’s. How fun it would be, to squish them…

“Hey, what are you doing?” You were jerked out of your spiel by the touch of Alhaitham’s hand on your cheek. Some fingers were gloved, others bare - it made a curious contrast, the rough leather juxtaposing smooth skin.

“My apologies, you had something on your cheek. You may continue your futile self justification now.” Alhaitham retracted his hand to go back to studying the paper.

“This… this won’t be the end!” You exclaimed. You sounded rather like a villain one would find in a children’s novel, except Alhaitham doubted there was a villain as small and as harmless as you.

“I look forward to your future endeavours.” Alhaitham quirked a wry smile at seeing you scuttle off furiously.

You were right - this wasn’t the end. You’d unfortunately piqued the Acting Grand Sage’s interest, and once that happened, there was no way out.

You’d find yourself bumping into Alhaitham more often after that incident. Who knew the Acting Sage even left his office? Wherever you went, he’d be there, presumably to make your life harder.

It sounds cliche, but he would definitely help you out with reaching books just beyond the range of your flailing hands. Of course, he’d read the title and criticise your choice of literature before handing it to you, but Alhaitham would be of aid nonetheless.

He’d make blunt remarks to rile you up, enjoying the sight of you flushing in anger. You were so short, yet so energetic - he often wondered how it was possible for you to be so endearing and irritating at the same time.

Sometimes, your brutish comments would get through to Alhaitham, and you’d have the pleasure of seeing his jaw flex in discomfort before he snapped back with something equally personal. Neither of you were ever willing to let the other have the last word.

You often wondered how you’d gotten close to the cold Acting Sage. He was feared amongst all other scholars for his meticulousness, and yet he seemed fine with engaging in banter with you. It was a shocking but typical sight to see you with him in the halls of the Akademiya, the almost comical height difference drawing scoffs from witnesses. A quick glare from Alhaitham would be enough to silence those snickers, however. After all, he was the only one who could tease you, and you, him.

ZHONGLI

You’d first meet Zhongli through attempting to scam him. Most people would wonder why you were trying to swindle the god of contracts himself, but to be fair, you didn’t know who he was - and you were an absolute genius at robbing people with honeyed lies. How were you supposed to know you’d bitten off more than you could chew?

The day had begun normally, with you merely making your normal (fraudulent) sales. You’d make glorious promises of a newly discovered vein of ores in the Chasm, painting pictures of abundant wealth. Then, you’d convince those poor customers to buy stakes in the mine for a ridiculous price, although they were really only buying a shoddy patch of dirt you owned in the Sumeru-Liyue border. You’d managed to slip under the radar as you technically hadn’t done anything illegal, only omitted some key details.

After all, you only said that there was a “strong possibility” that there would be valuable ores there. And you were right - there were iron chunks. And they were valuable… in some perspectives. Either way, you didn’t know much about what was legal and what wasn’t (your only knowledge came from your time attending school with Yanfei) but it was good, not-so-honest work. The devil’s in the details, as they say, and nobody reads the poorly written fine print on the contracts you made anyway.

Until Zhongli came along.

“May I ask the whereabouts of this place?” The man exuded wealth, from his deep voice to his elegantly refined attire. Your eyes sparkled. If you could pull this off, the rewards would be great.

“It’s in the Chasm.”

“Ah, you already mentioned that, but where exactly in the Chasm?”

“Around the Western side, near the Sumeru border.”

“Hm, how fascinating. I don’t recall any developments being made in that area.” Zhongli murmured.

“It’s being kept a secret, because of how valuable it is… Of course you understand how important confidentiality is to such a project, right?”

“What confidentiality is there to uphold if you’re blandly advertising it in the middle of Liyue Harbour?”

You were stunned into silence, mouth hanging open. It was there that you noticed the knowing gleam in his eyes, the quirk of his lips in a shrewd smirk.

“… Please don’t report me. I will atone for my sins, and worship the lord of geo with great reverence.” You immediately switched attitudes, letting out a nervous laugh. For a seasoned businessperson like yourself, you had to know when to stop attacking and when to start defending. This was one of those times where it was best to defend - or, better yet, to just run away.

“Well then, you may begin now.” Zhongli crossed his arms.

“You’re not the lord of geo.” You retorted. The man had introduced himself as Zhongli, after all.

“Oh?” Zhongli smiled, and you felt your stomach churn. If this man truly was Rex Lapis, then you’d just made a very big mistake.

Zhongli turned and walked away, and you breathed out a sigh of relief - before he glanced back at you, expecting you to follow.

“Where… where are we going…?” You asked.

“Aren’t you going to atone? We’ll start by returning every cent of the mora you took.” Zhongli took your hand in his. A stupid, out of place warmth bloomed at the contact, but you quickly squashed it as you continued to fume at the man who’d dismantled your thriving business.

“What? The Tianquan was onto you already, would you rather face more extreme persecution from her?” Zhongli smiled.

“… No.” You snapped.

This ‘atonement’ was going to take a while.

Surprisingly, your victims - wait, *customers* - were scattered far and wide around Teyvat, so you found yourself going on many trips with the former lord of geo.

At first, you’d constantly snap at him, viewing him as a suspiciously pleasant millelith member, or an overly patronising supervisor. However, as the two of you got closer, he wasn’t as insufferable as you thought.

It was comforting to hear Zhongli share his past experiences, narrating first-hand stories like the ones in the history classes you never paid attention to. He was also the perfect height for you to grab his ponytail, yanking it particularly hard whenever you were bored.

To be honest, Zhongli often did appear as your guardian. He’d stop you from picking fights with strangers, easily holding you back (or slinging you over his shoulder if you were being particularly disagreeable), doing his best to maintain peace in an environment you were in.

On colder days, you’d borrow Zhongli’s coat, although it was so long it dragged along the floor. The sleeves hung over your hands, the cuffs flopping around whenever you excitedly pointed out something. Zhongli would chuckle at your mannerisms, resting a comforting hand on your head to keep you still.

Zhongli was calm, and you definitely were not. He was tall, but you most certainly weren’t. But you know what they say - opposites attract. And you made quite a pair with the former Geo Archon.

WANDERER

Two vertically challenged, feisty individuals with an attitude problem. Both you and the Wanderer were Sumeru city’s worst nightmare, although you undeniably despised each other.

You’d match his energy with unfaltering confidence as he hurled every insult in your direction upon seeing you. Honestly, neither of you were sure when this rivalry started - perhaps it’d just began when you two wanted to see who could be the best short angry person in the region.

“Looking as useless as ever, Wanderer.” You sneered upon seeing the familiar jellyfish cut from the back, snickering as the figure turned to glare at you.

“Has anyone ever told you about your severe temper issues?” The Wanderer snapped back.

“Speak for yourself - I heard you massacred some poor Fatui skirmishers while roaming in the jungle.”

“They were in the way, and you would’ve done the same if you were in my position.”

Those that were passing by watched your bickering with an amused trepidation. You really were perfect for each other, if you’d somehow set your hatred aside.

You and the Wanderer would be seen prowling the city streets or wrecking havoc in the wilderness in the name of some vague competition, both your tempers equally matched. In candid moments you two would almost understand each other perfectly, almost opening your mouths to say something vulnerable.

Of course, your egos wouldn’t allow for that. And so, you and the Wanderer would dance along the edge of whatever strange relationship you had.

Despite you both being short, the Wanderer possessed an Anemo vision. Hence, as you struggled to climb a tree to obtain some bird eggs, the Wanderer would float above you, cackling as he snatched them out of your reach.

“What on earth do you plan to do with these, anyway? I never knew you cooked.”

“Give them to me!”

“How sad life must be, having your head so close to the ground.” The Wanderer wove to the side to dodge your flailing arms, failing to notice the dangerous creaking of the branch you were clinging to.

“You’d better come back here right now-” The branch snapped and you went hurtling down, squeezing your eyes shut. You heard a crack, and felt yourself land against something.

“Gosh, you’re so heavy.” The Wanderer scoffed. He’d caught you mid-air, lowering you to the ground in mocking gentleness.

“Did I break a bone…?” You gasped, feeling something sticky on your back. Perhaps it was all your organs spilling out.

“No, you’re fine. Stop being so dramatic.”

“Then what was that cracking sound?”

“Uh, those eggs you were trying to get.”

You kept out of the Wanderer’s arms hurriedly, the almost tender moment broken - much like the eggs broken over your back and your companion’s hands.

“Archons, you’re so infuriating. Couldn’t you have put them down before saving me?” You scowled.

“Be grateful I did it in the first place.” The Wanderer rolled his eyes.

He wasn’t sure if it was you or the sticky egg debris, but he felt a lingering warmth in his hands.

You and the Wanderer understood each other better than anyone, and let’s be honest - the whole of Sumeru was just waiting for the two of you to get together.

(pls ignore this)

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“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

blah

STOP DELETING MY SHIT

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

Th

I HATE TUMBLR UGHHHH

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

I HATE TUMBLR

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

“Hm, an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban to inquire into the difficulties of growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve had countless projects covering similar areas.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front page and putting it aside.

Alhaitham tutted. The title wasn’t concise nor succinct, and there was a clear lack of nuance within the premise of your project. He idly flipped through the rest of the pages, already preparing to reject it.

“For research… there will be an interview held with a member of the Shuumatsuban who experiences difficulties growing tall… Interesting, but not groundbreaking. We’ve already had similar projects.” Alhaitham muttered, stamping the front cover and putting it aside.

The former Scribe tutted. Even the title wasn’t concise, nor did it provide much nuance. He was just flipping through the rest, already preparing to reject it.

“This project will… involve an interview with a member of the Shuumatsuban, who experiences stunted growth… Interesting, but not groundbreaking.” Alhaitham stamped the front cover in red and put it aside.

[dnd-smash-pass-vs]

As the year wraps up, I gotta get something off my chest, don't worry I'm not making a habit of this. Even though I know that the people who it's pointed at won't read or care, and the people who do see the resemblance to themselves likely won't be the ones I'm talking to. but I just had to delete multiple asks again, and it's stuff I get all the time, so I'm going to indulge in a little angry rant that you're free to ignore. Because seriously, I LOVE getting asks, I'd turn them off if I didn't. but some of ya'll REALLY don't understand there's a person on the other end of this. ...also, this is explicitly not pointed to the happy anon with the super long slaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad post last night, you're cool. I was just a really tired last night and hit delete on accident.

- Every time a post gets reblogged, it finds more monsterfuckers, but also more non-monsterfuckers. A less monstrous person doing well or winning does not mean you're the only monsterfucker here. don't fill my inbox with multi-paragraph "everyone here's supposed to be a monsterfucker" hate essays every time a monstrous option isn't in a massive lead, take it up with your followers if it matters to you that much. -Some of you are fine always voting against bone devil no matter what, but can't comprehend something auto-losing for a different reason. Like "I hate heat." Or strong smells, or frogs. Sometimes people don't like the option they chose, they just hate it less. I see the merit in near any option I post, even if it's not for me...but seeing why you like it doesn't me I do too, stop asking me to take sides. - Or the opposite, one of the most common tags is "I love both, but I have a core memory or fetish with one so that's my default." Choosing one doesn't mean they hate the other option and you specifically. I'd happily fuck them both, but one indulges a fetish more core to me than some of my organs. - Someone who would fuck a werewolf or manticore or such is a monsterfucker, even if they don't go further. You don't get to say they aren't a REAL monsterfucker because you decided their preferred monsters aren't monstrous enough. Do you to see someone thirsting over a butch and say they're not a REAL lesbian because you decided that's not girly enough? There's no need to be elitist or gatekeep. Especially in an ask, but also in general tbh.

- I'm a basic bitch too sometimes! Just because we like the weird stuff doesn't mean we have to start hating the basic stuff and those who indulge in it. kinkshaming goes both ways, neither of which should be sent to me. You are not the standard by which all is judged, you being relatively more kinky does not make them objectively less kinky. - Seriously, if tumblr is anything, it's the "Labels" site. where people come to learn thier labels, give themselves labels, show off thier labels, surround themselves in similar labels until they forget it's not the only label. Often while saying they hate labels. It's not even the monsterfucker website, Tumblr's just more neutral toward it instead of openly hostile. I get the disappointment, but don't direct it to me. TLDR: That shoggoth or whatever isn't going to become real and fuck you because you flooded my inbox with rants on how "anyone who didn't choose X is fake, and all ya'll aren't TRUE BELIEVERS of the ONE TRUE MONSTERFUCKER GOD." Sarenrae on a bike, It's my blog, and I say everyone's welcome as long as they stay civil. so be civil before I take the anon button away. At least some people have the guts to show their face when insulting anyone who likes ___ over ___

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

What gets me with Vel is that we see she has a good rapport with her coworkers/friends. She may sometimes roll her eyes at the other two and their antics and of course when her direct business gets interrupted she gets frustrated, but we mostly see her on good grounds with the rest of the Vees. They respect her when it comes to serious business and in that last scene of the season they all look to be very much on the same page and in it together, smiling about their future... yet fanon (if it isn't infantalizing her as you've pointed out) is constantly projecting "angry black woman" stereotypes onto her.

It's gross and in my opinion clearly racially motivated that they see her as nothing more than a "bitchy" woman of color. While the fanon I've seen also has separate gross issues with Vox and Val they are at least allowed some nuance on occasion, but I just don't ever see that with Vel, she's just an angry woman rendered to the background in their eyes stripped completely of her professionalism, intellect, and cunning. She's one of my faves and it sucks so bad to see.

Hi. :) I wrote 5 paragraphs in response to this question and Tumblr so graciously decided to delete fucking all of it. :)

The Hazbin Hotel fandom has a serious racism problem and not enough people are talking about it. Aside from the infantilization of Velvette, other BIPOC characters are put into stupid stereotypes or treated like children because either Vivzie can’t handle writing competently or the fandom doesn’t know how to behave themselves. This is especially apparent for the women, but—and this is probably the only time I will talk about him in this way—Valentino is also suffering from this shitass issue.

Firstly about Velvette, just like how this said, Velvette used to be treated like a child in canon (now fanon) and is being portrayed as only a sassy angry black woman by the fandom. This is disgusting! I don’t think I need to say that! For some reason (misogyny) the Hazbin fandom just has this thing where they take a POC person or a woman—usually both—and decide to treat them like a child. Best examples being Niffty and Velvette being portrayed as Angel & Husk’s and Vox & Valentino’s children. Niffty is 22 and Velvette is in her 30’s. And of course they are both POC. I know there’s going to be someone accusing me of just whining about racism or being like “not everything is about race” but shut the fuck up because I’m busy talking.

I think the best scene to depict Velvette’s character—even though she hardly has any scenes. It shows that she will and can respect her colleagues but for other people, you either need to give her something she wants or her respect needs to be earned. She literally sings a whole song about it.

For other characters like Niffty I have a post for her in the works so I won’t spill it all here, but I can’t in good faith talk about the racism problem without mentioning Valentino. The fact Vivzie has made her worst character into the basic tall hot hispanic/latino man with the hot spanish accent stereotype. Honestly this sort of stereotype doesn’t bother me much, there’s a few villain characters I like with it like Alejandro from TDI, but Vivzie making this a big aggressive and dangerous POC person abusing a sad little white guy just grosses me out. It’s not like the situation would be any better if Angel wasn’t white, but it really does just leave that extra sour taste in my mouth.

Also I don’t need to explain why 90% of the POC cast being fucking grey or purple or blue is bad right.

[thementalshawty]

Hayyyyloooooooww I’m back back back! Been awhile since I’ve done readings for tumblr (*Deleted my last page) Anywho I’m back and better than ever! Soo let’s get back to business babies!!

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[queenimmadolla]

𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗘𝗡𝗜𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗔’s Masterlist

─────────about me. . .hi, i’m Vivi. I’m black/mixed. Just gonna throw that out there immediately because I don’t want to get blocked for interacting with black!reader content. That being said, my reader is black; however, I try to keep descriptions to a minimum unless I’m describing a fit. I’m in my 20s, asexual, and hyper-fixate a lot. also, my REQUESTS are CLOSED! i’ll be opening them as soon as i catch up, HOWEVER, should you submit a good headcanon or a little good lil thought, i just might have to write about it :) will not write for Hopper, Billy, or the kids (for romance). Oh, and Eden is almost always going to be in reader's best friend trio. I'm too lazy to think of anyone other than my oc and also Eden is so fucking cool and I'm gonna have all the characters in the same town including the Byers fam and Argyle. I'm not tryna map that out, lol. Note about interacting with me, do not come at me with hate of any kind and/or hold me up to high standards because I will always never be the bigger person. I don’t care, lol. I will say something so out of pocket you’ll end up deleting the app even if you sent it as an anon. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ─────────

note: most of my works are over 2k word count wise; however, I am unable to utilize the ‘keep reading’ option because tumblr—for some bizarre reason— will remove paragraphs and repeat lines/paragraphs on anything under the ‘keep reading’ line, so sorry that you’ll have to scroll past them all when going through my tumblr, really wish I could use it.

𝑴 𝑨 𝑺 𝑻 𝑬 𝑹 𝑳 𝑰 𝑺 𝑻 ! 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁. 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚 . . . 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗨𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗳𝘂���𝗹𝘆 𝗦𝗢𝗢𝗡:

EDDIE MUNSON:

𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑬 (𝑪𝒀𝑴) . . . you are content watching Eddie Munson from afar, ignoring the giant “what-if” that looms over you. It’s safer that way. But after a shitty party, some weed, and a lot of heart ache, it becomes clear you two share more than a class. If only the rest of the world didn’t just think you were two stupid kids with their hearts on fire for each other. (series ─ ongoing) 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎           **Tag list for this fic and its updates can be found here. 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰'𝑽𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑴𝑬𝑨𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑶 𝑺𝑨𝒀 . . . tired of waiting around for something that’s never gonna happen, you head to the last rager of your high school career to get back together with your ex-boyfriend before graduation. Eddie heads to that very same party to stop you. (Eddie Munson x fem!Reader, series ─ ongoing) 𝑺𝑯𝑬'𝑺 𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑨 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀 . . . After taking a pregnancy test for funsies, you find out that you're actually pregnant. The scariest part isn't even the unexpected pregnancy, it's telling Eddie. (Eddie Munson x fem!Reader as young parents, Penny Verse) request. 𝑷𝑬𝑵𝑵𝒀 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑺. . . in which you can't nap because your daughter likes to poke your eye out and Eddie likes to sit back and observe. (Eddie Munson x fem!Reader as young parents, (Penny Verse, the verse that comes directly after CYM events - Can be read as a standalone.) 𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑲. . . Eddie helps you out when you're struggling to feed your baby. It quickly leads to fucking. (Eddie Munson x fem!Reader as young parents, Penny Verse) ─ smut. 𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑲 𝑾𝑯𝑶'𝑺  𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 . . . in which Eddie takes his three year old shopping. Obviously, cuteness ensues. (Eddie Munson x fem!Reader as young parents, Penny Verse) 𝑪𝑶𝑶𝑲𝑰𝑬𝑺 '𝑵 𝑪𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑵 . . . if anyone had told you you’d be having this  type of conversation with a four year old while making cookies, you definitely wouldn’t have believed them. and eddie still can’t say no to your daughter. (Eddie Munson x fem!Reader as young parents, Penny Verse) 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀'𝑺 𝑮𝑶𝑻 𝑩𝑰𝑻𝑬 . . . just a couple of hours after dropping your four year old off for her first day of preschool, you and Eddie are called back to pick her up. (Eddie Munson x fem!Reader as young parents, Penny Verse)

𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬 𝑴𝑬𝑵 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑨 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀 . . . you leave eddie to watch your newborn with some ‘help’ (they don’t really do anything) from jonathan and argyle. (Eddie Munson x fem!Reader as young parents, Penny Verse) 𝑪𝑨𝑼𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑷𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑺 𝑫𝑶𝑾𝑵 . . . Eddie catches you pantsing your 7 month old baby. (Eddie Munson x fem!Reader as young parents, Penny Verse)

𝑺𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒂 . . . Jonathan's taking your family photos and struggling to get your baby to smile. ─ (Eddie Munson x fem!Reader as young parents, Penny Verse) prompt.

𝑴𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 . . . you decide it’s high time Eddie finally meets your parents. Your boyfriend isn’t so sure. prompt.

𝑶𝑼𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑶𝑼𝑪𝑯 𝑰𝑵 𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑶𝑵𝒀 . . . in which Eddie and his arch-nemesis smoke a couple of joints and talk about how much they (don't) hate each other. (𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝) 𝑺𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 . . . in which your nightmares are no match for your boyfriend. request. 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑰𝑬𝑪𝑬𝑺 (angst. series ─ ongoing) request.

𝑪𝑹𝑼𝑬𝑳 𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑬𝑹 - '𝟖𝟓 . . . the year Eddie Munson doesn’t give a fuck about not having graduated when he’s gotta save the girl so he can get the girl. (in which Eddie is in ST3 and reader is basically Heather Holloway, Eddie Munson x Flayed!Reader) 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 **ongoing** 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑮𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑺 . . . eddie finds you relieving some stress in the middle of the woods. request. 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑶𝑲𝑬 . . . 𝑫𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑴𝒀𝑺𝑬𝑳𝑭 . . .

𝑭𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑲 𝑶𝑼𝑻 ! . . .

𝑼𝑷𝑻𝑶𝑾𝑵 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 . . .

STEVE HARRINGTON

𝑇𝐸𝑀𝑃𝑇𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 ─ smut.

ROBIN BUCKLEY

𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑵 . . .

JONATHAN BYERS

ARGYLE