#were they there and i found a communicative way effective enough? yeah

[roturo]

BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

INUMAKI TOGE X READER

SUMMARY: meeting up with your old friends sounded like a good idea, turns out lying and saying you and your ex ended up as a friends would include him there, so that was a bad idea of yours.

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, subspace, exes!to lovers, use of curse energy for sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, use of sign language, almost caught, after care, dacryphilia.

Life has been great.

Ever since you broke up with Inumaki things have been just fine. Both of you decided to end up as friends. Which might be awkward between the both of you but when you’re together around other people it wasn’t that bad.

You decided to focus on your training, even though it became a little bit too much to be at the same place with your ex… so you decided to live alone and start a new life. College is a new experience and it has been really fun! Training at home wasn’t as effective and efficient as training with Gojo-sensei and your friends… but, you felt more comfortable this way.

Some days you felt like exorcizing some curse and just walked through the city and found one.

Just for fun.

That’s what Maki told you. ‘Let’s hang out all of us together like the old times! Just for some fun!’

And everything was going great! But you never expected Yuuji to enter next to Inumaki into Maki’s room. You haven’t seen him in like four? six months? It’s been a while…

And to say he looked even more handsome than last time is understandable. Half a year and he grew up. He seemed taller than last time, his shoulders broader, and his hands…

You scold yourself for staring too long at him. His eyes locked with yours and a small awkward silence was in the room. But thankfully, Yuuji couldn’t tolerate silence and proposed to order some pizza and talk about how things have been.

You told them about your new friends at college, how you've been auto-training yourself, and how you felt like a new person.

Inumaki felt nostalgic. Watching you grow up and create a life without him made him sad. Thinking about the old times and how you talked to him for hours about having a family. How you stayed with him even if he couldn’t communicate himself like others, he loved you, and he missed you.

You missed him too, and when Maki asked if you were comfortable right now, even if your ex is literally like less than two meters in front of you, you said, ‘yeah! why not, we didn’t end on bad terms! can’t do people reconnect? I only see him as a friend.’

The biggest lie you ever said.

But the both of you knew those glance you gave each other, you needed the other… So when Maki accompanied Yuuji for the pizza you couldn’t control yourself.

And I mean like you couldn’t control yourself literally, he controlled you. He took his hands off.

‘Follow me.’

Your body was moving without your permission. Following Inumaki to what you assumed was his room. A tingly feeling dressed as nervousness was appearing in the low part of your tummy.

You felt anxious? excited? euphoric?

You missed him so much it was hurting, so when you got inside his room, thinking about if what’s going to occur was correct, you stared at your phone for some second before murmuring to yourself ‘fuck it, it’s fine’ —the first thing you did when you had control back was send a text to Maki.

‘I’m sleeping in another place.’ Maybe she’ll think you didn’t feel comfortable enough and needed to leave.

But maybe that’s not the case. You might sleep on someone else's sheets.

‘Inumaki…’

‘Shh… Undress yourself.’— You wanted to first kiss him, but he seemed eager to have you— and how could you say no? Maybe he wasn’t even controlling you and you were doing it for your own taste.

Feeling vulnerable in front of him— he grabbed you by the waist pulling you closer to his clothes body and started kissing you like a hungry man— You missed his touch and he missed yours.

Coming here wasn’t a bad idea… right?

Wrong.

Your body was sore and twitching of how many times he has made you cum. He’s been eating you out for hours now— with just one word making you cut whenever he felt like it. Making symbols on your pussy of what you suppose it’s his curse marks— Your eyes were full of tears, vision blurry and feeling dizzy.

‘N-no more ‘Inu..’

‘Osaka ‘ Was all he said, keeping a straight face before watching you before continuing eating you out— ‘Squirt.’ Your body shook before your vision turned black and everything felt a thousand times more— his fingers inside of you, slurping your fluids out of you. It was a disgusting mess— but he loved watching you turn into a mess thanks to him. It was his mess.

He never abused so much of his power on you, but this time it was different. He needed you, he wanted you.

Once he felt he got enough of your poor and used pussy, he got up— Watching you trying to keep your eyes open. Makeup ruined, hair tangled and tears coming down your eyes. You felt fucked out— feeling sore on parts of your body you never thought could get sore. Trying to plead for your sanity was met with deaf ears.

He started unbuckling his belt, and turned his middle and ring finger down, making the sign ‘I love you’ before signaling he missed you so much and needed you. Sign language was a common thing between the both of you because of his cursed technique. Just a few words, because it’s like destiny brought the two of you together because in some ways you always knew what the other needed.

He teased your cunt with his dick before inserting it in. You were on missionary, him on top of you while he admired the mess you became. He thrusted inside of you with no warning, your fucked up pussy with no need to make it even more sensitive for you to cum, he just started searching for his release.

When he watched you not even being able to say coherent words, tears just streaming down your face, your eyes almost closed and moans coming out of your mouth was enough for him to cum inside of you. The fucked up image of you— thanks to him— will be forever engraved in his mind. He needs you, he needs to be back together.

He groaned at the feeling of your cunt hugging his cock once he came, his body shaking before laying down beside you. Heavy breathings filling the room, he looked back at you and found you staring at him too. A smile adorned his face, moving his body so he could hug yours— playing with your hair and giving you small pecks he heard a knock on his door. 

He supposed you’re still in a subspace and grabbed his boxers, slightly opening the door so only his face was visible— a confused blushed Yuuji was in front of his door. ‘Inumaki, the pizza is here. We can’t find Y/N though… Do you know where she is?…’

‘Go with Maki.’ Were the words he let out, Yuuji’s body moved without his permission, leaving him alone. 

He looked behind and saw you taking small breaths, your chest going up and down— He smiled to himself, before he grabbed a warm cloth and and started cleaning you up— He searched for some candy he used to have in his room since you were always craving them, he grabbed one water bottle too and repositioned you so your now resting on his pillows. He sat next to you, playing with your hair, waiting till you came back to reality.

Once you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Inumaki staring at you— Eyes full of love while he played with your hair. You moved so your body was not sitting on his bed, you noticed you’re wearing one of his t-shirts and your panties— You supposed he put them on, he touched your arm and gave you some water and your favorite candy. You looked back at him— surprised he still had some of them here, you smiled at him and drank some water.

You didn’t notice he grabbed a notebook and was writing something until he gave it to you.

‘Can we get back together? You’re all I need, all I love. I would kill any curse, person, thing who tries to hurt you, everything… just to have you back in my arms.’

[waitimcomingtoo]

How Do I Get You Alone? 2

Pairing: Peter Parker X Stark!Reader

Synopsis: you and Peter can’t seem to communicate effectively after the kiss

Part one

Masterlist

“Honey, can you get that? It’s Peter.” Tony asked you when FRIDAY alerted you that someone was waiting in the lobby.

“And you want me to bring him up? Why can’t you do it?” You panicked over the thought of being alone with Peter after your last conversation.

“Because I’m the belle of the ball and the belle does not bring her own guests up from the lobby. She has other people do it for her. Plus, I don’t want Peter to see my outfit until he’s up here.” Tony explained as he adjusted his tie.

“You’re such a diva. And why do you also make yourself a girl in these scenarios?” You asked as you went over to the elevator.

“Don’t call me that!” Tony called after you. You rolled your eyes and took the elevator down to the lobby. Peter had been nervously fiddling with his shirt and did a double take when you stepped off the elevator. You smiled weakly at him and smoothed down your dress.

“Oh. Hi.” Peter said as his face reddened.

“Hi. Sorry, my dad asked me to come get you.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Oh. Right.” You smiled tightly. “Well, come on in. Dinners almost ready.”

“What did your dad make?” Peter asked as you stepped into the elevator.

“Well, my dad hasn’t “made” anything since he found out there weren’t real raspberries in raspberry toaster strudels. But our chef made gnocchi.”

“Fuck yes.” Peter whispered to himself.

“What was that?”

“I said that sounds delicious.” He lied. You rode up in silence for a minute as you watched him. He was keeping his eyes on the ground and you could tell he wasn’t thrilled that you were with him.

“Look, Peter, I know you’re upset about the way our conversation went the other day and I really want a chance to explain myself.” You said as you stepped in front of him.

“You don’t have to explain anything. I understand.” Peter said calmly.

“You do?”

“Yeah. The kiss was a heat of the moment thing and you just want to forget it happened. And I am totally okay with that.” Peter said and forced a smile. It wasn’t actually how he felt, just something he had told himself to say to avoid anymore crushing disappointment or awkwardness.

“You’re okay with that? With pretending it never happened?” You asked and felt the same level of disappointment Peter had felt.

“Yeah.” Peter lied. “Why wouldn’t I be? I won’t hold you to anything you did during a high pressure situation. I think we both want to move on and pretend it never happened. So let’s just forget about it.”

“If that’s what you want.” You nodded stiffly and stepped to the side so that you could hide how disappointed you felt over hearing him say that.

“If that’s what you want.” Peter shrugged and suddenly felt unsure of his plan. He was no longer confident that he correctly guessed how you wanted to proceed.

“Is that what you want?” Peter asked quietly after a beat of silence. Before you could answer, the elevator doors opened to the dinning room.

“Peter’s here!” Tony cheered. “Come in, come in. Sit down. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Always.” Peter’s smiled graciously as he sat in the seat beside Tony.

“Aw. I know, kid. Times are hard.” Tony said sympathetically and patted Peter’s hand.

“Oh, no, not like that. I eat enough food at home.” Peter assured him.

“Aw, yes you do.“ Tony cooed and patted his hand again. Meanwhile, you were about to take the seat next to Morgan when Pepper sat down. Now the only empty chair was the one next to Peter and you were not about to make this dinner anymore awkward than it already was. Peter made eye contact with you and gave you a sympathic smile.

“Oh. Sorry, mom. I was gonna sit next to Morgan and help her eat.” You said and gestured for her to move.

“I can use a fork all by myself now.” Morgan said proudly and held up a spoon.

“That’s a spoon. I should probably just pull up a chair next to her.” You said and went to go grab another chair.

“Honey, just sit next to Peter.” Pepper said and gestured to the only open seat.

“Okay. I will. But not because I want to.” You announced as you took the seat.

“Sweetheart. Manners.” Pepper whispered to you. You took the seat next to Peter and avoided eye contact.

“I’m not being rude.” You defended. “I’m just saying that I’m only sitting next to Peter because I have no other option.”

“Have you two been spending time together? Because that’s 100% something Peter would say.” Tony laughed in amusement as you and Peter panicked.

“What? Spending time together? That’s crazy. Why would we do that?” Peter sputtered out while you nodded in agreement.

“But you went to Peter’s apartment a few weeks ago, right Y/n? You told me that when I asked you why you kept changing your clothes.” Morgan asked you.

“So you remember that but can’t remember not to put both legs in the same pant leg?” You sassed her.

“Woah. The girls are fighting. It’s okay, Morgan. Pants are confusing.” Pepper assured her youngest daughter.

“Oh, so is that why you were bugging me for his address for days? You wanted to visit?” Tony asked you, making you hang your head in defeat.

“For days, huh? You must’ve really wanted to find me.“ Peter smiled in amusement as he looked over at you.

“Oh, yeah. It was all she could talk about after the earthquake. She was begging me to find your addresses but all I could remember about it was that it was an old brick building with a very strange doorman. And that describes most apartment buildings in your neck of the woods. She eventually gave up on me and had FRIDAY track your suit down. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to find you so she could go kill you.” Tony shrugged and took a bite of his pasta.

“And you didn’t try to stop her?” Peter asked him.

“I like to let my daughters express themselves however they choose.” Tony answered. “But why did you need to go to his apartment, anyway, sweet pea?”

“Because I wanted to talk to him but we never exchanged numbers so I had to drop in like it was the 1950s.” You said and hoped that would stop the conversation there.

“You never exchanged numbers? That’s not good. What if you needed to contact each other for an emergency?” Pepper pointed out.

“Yeah. You should do that right now.” Tony agreed and gestured between the two of you.

“Dad, I’m not giving him my number. We’re eating dinner. We can do it later.” You grumbled. Peter couldn’t help but smirk at seeing the brattier side of you.

“What if we forget? Come on. Just exchange now. I’ll feel better knowing you guys can reach each other in case of an emergency.”

“Fine. Here.” You sighed and handed over your phone to Peter.

“What’s with the animosity?”Tony wondered. “I thought you guys finally liked each other after the earthquake?”

“Like each other? We do not like each other. That’s ridiculous.” You insisted as Peter turned bright red.

“You don’t?”Tony frowned. “But you went on and on about how Peter protected you during the earthquake. And Happy said that you asked him to tell you anytime Peter called with updates.”

“You asked Happy to tell you if I called?” Peter couldn’t help but smile as he asked you.

“I just wanted to know if you were okay.” You asked quietly.

“I’ve been fine.”Peter shrugged. “There hasn’t been another earthquake or anything.”

“Oh, no. She asked Happy for that long before the earthquake. It was a couple months ago, right princess?” Tony asked you. You glared at him and wondered if he was doing this on purpose.

“Why would you ask Happy for updates on me months ago?” Peter asked with genuine confusion now.

“I don’t know, Peter. I don’t have all the answers. I’m not Bing.”

“Ew. Who uses Bing?” Tony grimaced.

“I do. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” You said and abruptly left the table. Everyone exchanged looks but shrugged it off and went back to eating. Peter pushed his food around with his fork for a minute before excusing himself and going after you. He found you in your room, a place he had never been in before. You were sitting on your bed and hugging a pillow to your chest as you stared at the ground. Peter knocked on the doorframe and you jumped.

“Hey. I thought you might want this.” Peter said and held up your phone.

“Oh. Thanks.” You said sheepishly and held out your hand for him to give it back.

“No problem. You got a text, by the way.” Peter said with a smirk. You looked at him curiously before reading the text on your screen.

“How are things going with lover boy?” You read out loud with zero amusement in your voice. You looked up at Peter with an annoyed look and he just shrugged.

“That’s not about you.” You scoffed.

“Oh, it’s not? Is there a different lover boy coming over that I should know about?” Peter asked sarcastically and pointed behind him.

“No. Because you don’t need to know anything about me.” You snapped and got off your bed.

“I don’t know why you’re pissed at me. I don’t think I did anything wrong here. You’re the one who kissed me.” Peter pointed out, growing angry now.

“I know I was. And I’m so sorry because I can tell how much you hated it.” You said sarcastically.

“I hated it?” Peter laughed in shock. “You’re the one who said it didn’t mean anything to you. But don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone about it. I know how much it meant to you that no one found out.”

“Peter, I don’t care if you told your weirdo little friend about our kiss.” You whined. “I only said that so you didn’t tell Happy or my dad or something.”

“Why would I tell your dad that we kissed?”

“You told my dad when your six piece chicken nugget had eight pieces.”

“But how would that have happened? They don’t sell eight piece nuggets. It’s either four, six, or ten. There is no eight nugget option.”

“Someone probably just put a few extra in your box on accident.”

“You sound just like your dad.” Peter mumbled.

“Can we please just get through this dinner and move on with our lives?” You sighed.

“Yes. That’s fine. I know how badly you want the dinner to end so that you never have to see me again.” Peter said with a roll of his eyes.

“When did I ever say I didn’t want to see you anymore?” You asked in exasperation.

“You’ve made it pretty clear.”

“Why are you so mad at me? What did I even do to you?” You genuinely asked him.

“You kissed me!” Peter shouted and pointed to himself. You fell silent for a moment at how desperate he sounded but then fired back.

“You kissed me back.” You pointed out.

“It’s not the same.” Peter shook his head and quieted down. “That’s not the same.”

“How is that not the same?” You shrugged and folded your arms.

“Because I liked you!” Peter raised his voice again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise as he retreated into himself.

“I liked you for years and you finally kissed me and then didn’t want to talk about it. You asked me to forget it ever happened.” Peter said quietly.

“But you’re the one who said it forget about it. You’re the one who said it was just a heat of the moment thing. You’re the one who said we should pretend it never happened. I never said any of that.” You said in a soft voice. Peter looked up at you and replayed the conversation in his head. When he realized you were absolutely right, he felt guilty for yelling at you.

“Well….yes.” He said weakly. You were both silent for a long time as neither of you knew what to say. You had been avoiding eye contact with each other until you stepped closer to him.

“You liked me?” You asked him.

“Yeah. I did.” Peter shrugged and looked into your eyes. He knew there was no point in taking it back now.

“Did?” You asked in a sad voice. “Did” meant that he no longer felt that way. Before Peter could answer you, Tony appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, are you guys gonna be eating dessert because Morgan’s been eying your cake and I honestly can’t promise it’ll be there when we go back. That girl is a beast.” Tony blew out a breath. You and Peter looked at each other for a split second before looking away.

“No. I’m gonna head out early.” Peter answered. “Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Stark. It was lovely.”

“Oh, I didn’t make it.” Tony laughed. “I haven’t made anything in months. Did you know that the raspberry in raspberry toaster strudels isn’t real?”

“Goodnight, Mr. Stark.” Peter smiled weakly at him and headed for the door.

“Night, kid. Tell your yummy aunt I said hi.” Tony called after him. You let out a sigh once Peter had left and sat back down on your bed.

“What do you think about Peter?” Tony asked now that Peter was gone.

“What? I don’t think about him.” You scoffed. “I wouldn’t care even if he broke all his legs and arms and had to wear a full body cast.”

Tony let out a little chuckle and shook his head when he heard this.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. I just realized why I sought Peter out to add him to the team despite him having 0 experience and almost no discernible skills outside of being sticky.”

“Why?”

“He reminds me of my daughter.” Tony said with a fond smile. You couldn’t help but smile as well and nod your head.

“Daddy…” You began and trailed off. Tony took a seat beside you and patted your hand.

“I know, kid. I know.” Tony said with a sympathetic smile.

“Was it obvious?” You asked sheepishly.

“Yes. Neither of you are good at hiding things.” Tony replied. “Also, I watched the security footage in the lab from the day of the earthquake. I’m not sure how watching him wolf down baby carrots didn’t give you the ick.”

“I don’t know either. But it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything. And it’s never going to happen again. I’m pretty sure he hates me now.” You sighed and looked down at your hands.

“I don’t know about that. Did you know that every time he calls to update Happy about what he’s been up to, he asks about how you’re doing?” Tony asked you.

“He does?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tony nodded. “I wouldn’t worry about him hating you. But you do need to tell him how you feel. Annoying little nerds are all over this city, but ones like him are rare.”

“And you’ll be okay with it?” You asked skeptically.

“With you having a conversation with him, yes. But if a romance begins to bud and or blossom, I’m gonna have to have a word with him.” Tony informed you.

“Fair enough. I love you, dad.” You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Love you too, kid.” Tony replied. “Now let’s go eat some cake that someone else made.

A few days after the dinner, Peter returned to the tower and went straight to the robotics lab to continue working on something for his suit. He put his earbuds in and played his music so loudly that he never heard you come in. He only noticed you when you waved your hand in front of his face to get his attention. He burned bright pink as he pulled his earbuds out.

“Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Here for another inspection?”

“No.” You said simply and Peter blushed a little at the implication that you were there to see him. You gave him an apologetic smile and he returned it to show that you weren’t there for another fight. You walked over to his side of the table and put one of his earbuds in your ears.

“What are you listening to?” You asked him.

“Oh, uh, just some indie song I found.” Peter shrugged. You pressed play on his phone and One Less Lonely Girl by Justin Bieber began to play in your ears.

“Oh. Yeah. Very indie.” You smirked and took the earbud out.

“His old stuff was really good.” Peter mumbled.

“Oh, I know. I still listen to “Somebody To Love” all the time.”

“Did you need something? Because I don’t think you came in here to talk about Justin Bieber.”

“I did, actually.”

“Oh.” Peter’s smiled dropped when he heard how serious you sounded.

“I’m kidding. Sorry. I meant to sound sarcastic but it came out really genuine.” You smiled in embarrassment.

“It’s okay. I hear thats a symptom of Bieber fever.” Peter said seriously, making you laugh.

“So, I wanted to talk about the other day. All three of ther days, actually. But it seems like you and I can’t have moments without getting interrupted.”

“Just like that girl in that Ben Afleck movie.” Peter said with a weak smile.

“What Ben Alfeck movie?”

“Girl, Interrupted.” Peter answered.

“Ben Afleck isn’t in that. Are you thinking of Gone Girl?”

“Are we gonna talk about the kiss or what?” Peter asked to change the subject.

“Yes.” You blew out a breath. “We are.”

Peter nodded and gestured to you to go first. You sighed and looked him in the eyes.

“When I came over the other day, I had a lot more to say then just asking you not to tell anyone. And the only reason I didn’t want you to tell anyone was because I didn’t want it getting back to my dad until we knew what we were. I didn’t know at that point if the kiss was a one time thing or if we were gonna be something more. I just wanted it to stay between us until I knew for sure where we stood. And I was going to tell you that I wanted to figure it out together and see where things went. But then I panicked and felt too embarrassed to explain all of that and then you looked so sad so I felt bad but then you made that joke about the seaplane and I could tell you onyl said it to make me feel better about making you feel bad so then I felt even worse and then your little friend came over and kept talking about TJ Maxx and I just had to get out of there.” You said all in one breath.

“Woah. That was the most amount of words you ever said to me at once.” Peter blinked in surprise.

“I know.”You laughed lightly. “And I’m not even done yet, believe it or not.”

“Go on. Before another natural disaster happens or a person walks in. And I honestly don’t know which would be worse.”

“Look, Peter, I never meant to make it seem like the kiss meant nothing to me. It did mean something. You mean something. I would not have kissed you if it didn’t mean anything to me.” You told him.

“So it wasn’t just a kiss just because you thought you were gonna die and needed some comfort and the only source around was your dad’s weird child friend?” He asked for reassurance.

“I did think I was gonna die.” You admitted. “I just didn’t want to die without ever getting the chance to kiss you. Which is something I had been wanting to do for a while.”

“It is?” Peter asked as you took a step closer to him and rested your hands on his chest.

“I don’t open up to people a lot. I don’t like letting my guard down. And I definitely don’t like having mushy feelings for some dumb boy that my dad found on YouTube a couple years ago.”

“Aw.” Peter said sarcastically.

“But I liked you. I have for a while.” You admitted. “And I didn’t think I could be the cool, collected, stoic bosses daughter if I had some schoolgirl crush. So I pushed it down and acted cold towards you while secretly wondering what your lips felt like.”

“And how did they feel?” Peter asked with a shy smile.

“Incredibly moisturized to the point they were almost slippery and I’m pretty sure whatever lipbalm you use has glitter in it because it was all over my face afterwards.”

“You’re welcome.” Peter smirked.

“And I’m sorry about the fight too. I had no idea how to act around you after the kiss and I kept making things worse.”

“No, the fight was my fault. I assumed you regretted the kiss and wanted to forget about it but never actually asked how you felt. I put words in your mouth and then got mad at you for them. I was just feeling emo that after all these years of pinning after you, we had a kiss that led to nothing.”

“It doesn’t have to lead to nothing.” You smiled coyly as you wrapped your arms around his torso. Peter took that as his cue to lean in and kiss you without the threat of a natural disaster looking over your heads. He couldn’t help but smile into the kiss as he put his hands on his face to pull you closer. When you pulled away, you rubbed your lips together to try to decipher the flavor of his lip balm.

“Cherry?” You asked him.

“Cherry Blossom Bliss.” He corrected. “The tube is pink and it’s shaped like lipstick.”

“I thought so.” You chuckled.

“So, what does this mean for us? Are we still keeping it a secret or should I call my seaplane guy back?” Peter asked you.

“I want to give us a try. I mean, we survived an earthquake together. I think we can survive telling my dad that we’re dating.”

“I think so too.” He grinned and leaned in to kiss you again.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if there was a tornado right now?” He asked once you pulled away. You threw your hands up in defeat and left the lab entirely.

“Come on.”Peter called after you. “It would be a little funny.”

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[dinneronvenus]

Doesn’t Matter Now

⭑ Gojo x fem reader

⭑ inspired by the song “doesn’t matter now” by flyingfish (listen to that while you read for max effect)

⭑ tags: ANGST ON 100, description of a jujutsu technique that forfeits the sorcerer’s life, death, a funeral, a hopeless and depressed Gojo goes to a medium, hinted reincarnation

⭑ synopsis: Gojo already lost his only true friend, so he never thought losing a woman could hurt him so badly

“There’s nothing you could’ve done, Gojo. You didn’t even know.” Utahime spoke softly, her own pain wanting to break through in her voice. “Nobody did.”

Gojo remained silent, eyes glazed over, a cocktail of negative emotions mixing in his mind. He couldn’t even look at Utahime, whose outfit would remind him of you. They stood in the ruins of the shrine your family had built and ran for generations. It had come under attack by many cursed spirits and you had fulfilled your duty to protect the people who lived and worked there, as well as its secrets. With everyone else safe, it would be rebuilt and restored to its original glory, something that should have been a silver lining.

“It is not uncommon for a high priestess to give her life for her people.” Utahime said, voice breaking at the end. This brought Gojo even less comfort.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I hadn’t heard her say those exact words to me before?!” He snapped, still not able to take his eyes off the scene in front of him. It was Utahime’s turn to stay silent.

In the middle of the leveled temple, there was the evidence of your bravery. A set of heavy stone doors bearing an ancient inscription, left open by whatever you had summoned to walk through them, loomed over the two sorcerers. Gojo already knew they’d be used as a gate to honor your memory and remember your sacrifice. His eyes begged to see any scrap of you in the rubble. Maybe this was just a trick, and you were hiding behind one of the doors.

“What could her technique have been to have killed her in the process?” He whispered to the open air, not thinking anyone could’ve heard him.

“Gehenna Gate, it is a technique with the highest of costs,” A raspy voice broke the unbearable quiet. It was your mother, who despite everything, managed to keep a small smile on her face for your surviving friends. “I am sorry she never told you that properly. She wanted to protect you, in her own way.” Her hand came down on Gojo’s shoulder and the kindness in her touch almost burned him alive.

“I didn’t… I wish she…” Gojo stuttered out, hot tears stinging his eyes. Your mother pulled him into a hug, shushing him like a child.

Five days later, your funeral was to be held at your family cemetery in the mountains overlooking the temple. Gojo had no idea how he would survive that. He spent the time until your funeral looking for someone who could communicate with the dead. Thanks to his power and connections, he found one the night before and prepared himself to have one last conversation with you.

“Welcome, sir. I assume you’re here to see Mistress Takemi?” The young man spoke just loud enough to be heard over the jingle of the bell from the door shutting behind him.

“Yeah, and she knows already so I’m just gonna head back there,” Gojo sauntered through the foyer and down the hall to the back room where a woman in black and purple robes standing over a large glass table was waiting on him.

“Welcome Satoru,” she spoke cheerfully with a deep voice that echoed her years of life.

“Don’t call me that. Can we get started?” The overly familiar attitude irked him. The woman cleared her throat and dropped her cheerful act.

“I suppose we can get right to it then.”

The woman had a technique that essentially made her into a human ouija board. Her hands rested on the glass table and it began to glow a soft greenish-blue. Gojo could see the dark circles and puffiness of his eyes in the reflection, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself for being this unable to accept that you were gone.

“Satoru?” His name again, but this time he could hear your voice mixing with Takemi’s voice. He said your name in disbelief, tears of joy in his eyes.

“Yes, yes! It’s me, I wa—”

“You can’t do this, Satoru. It’s against the laws.”

“Please, don’t tell me that right now. You hid so much from me, please just let me ask you one thing.”

Silence. Fearing he’d miss his chance, he went ahead with his question.

“Did you ever really love me?” The depth of sadness and desperation in his voice was unbearable to you, even in your disembodied state. “Why couldn’t you have told me? I could’ve helped you, I would’ve done anything to have saved you.”

“In the mountains where they’ll bury me, follow a trail that begins with pink and white flowers. You’ll find everything you want to know at the end. Goodbye, Satoru.”

“No, no, no,” He wiped the tears from his face and gripped both of Takemi’s shoulders, shouting. “Please come back! I can’t do this again!”

Regaining full control of herself, Takemi pushed Gojo off her and had him escorted out of her shop. The whole world was one hideous shade of grey. He walked for a while with no destination in mind but the grave. He wanted to go find that trail right now but he didn’t have anything else left in him. He wanted to sleep for the rest of his life. Returning home, he set his alarm and went to bed with your instructions in mind.

Utahime and Gojo walked with each other up the mountain to the funeral site. Utahime thought it was odd but refreshing to see him dressed in more traditional clothing. Just one more thing that only you could get him to do.

Everyone took their places, and your father stepped up to the podium. “We are gathered here to send our beloved high priestess to her place of final rest with her ancestors…”

Once the funeral was complete, no one but Gojo, Utahime and your mother lingered too long.

“I’m sorry again for your loss, ma’am.” Utahime said, bowing deeply. Your mother gave her another one of those wise, otherworldly smiles.

“I don’t think I’ve really lost her.” She said before taking a last look around the cemetery and turning to leave. “Why don’t we give him some space?” She motioned to Gojo and Utahime followed her.

Now alone with your memory and your ghost, Gojo began to look for this trail you had mentioned. It took him a while to find it but when he did, his path to the end was quick. It led to a small clearing where the grass was lush, and he was consumed by the smell of many different kinds of flowers and plants. The sight of the small garden was as beautiful as you were to him.

Looking around for anything that could be the answer you spoke of, he saw a faint bit of energy coming from inside a tree. When he got close to the tree, he found it had a hollow spot in it where you’d left a diary. He fished it out and walked to a shaded place in the clearing to begin reading it. Every page was an entry about the two of you together. All of your private feelings from when he was just a crush, and once you had gotten closer, you even glued in pictures you’d taken together.

Gojo couldn’t control his tears or hide his sobs. His body shook against the tree as he held the diary close to his chest. He calmed down enough to continue reading it, with the last entry being dated a week ago.

She knew she was going to die… He thought. You had written about the rise of cursed spirits in the area of increasing numbers and strength and how you felt like it was time for you to fulfill your duty to your people. More than that though, you wrote about how you wished you could have told Gojo. How you wanted to stay with him forever, how he was the only thing you’d ever loved as much as you loved the Gods, and how because of that you wanted to make sure he was safe and didn’t have to fight for once.

It was all too much, Gojo swore he would drown in his own tears right there. The wind picked up and blew the diary’s pages, landing on entry from before you two had met.

6.25 — Training Notes: after a long session of training and studying my technique’s history in my family. I have learned of a way I might be able to circumvent its cost. If I summon a deity of destruction that has the ability to reincarnate, then I will reincarnate too! One of my ancestors did that long ago, although it took 59 days for them to come back.

Gojo couldn’t believe what he was reading. He wiped his eyes on his sleeves furiously and scrambled to his feet. He stored your diary in an inner pocket of his kimono and made his way down the mountains to the temple ruins.

He inspected the gate and found exactly what he needed to be able to accept the loss of the only woman he’s ever loved. Utahime was strolling the grounds when she noticed him in the air, getting a close look at the doors.

“Gojo, what do you think you’re doing? Get down here!” Utahime found his behavior so disgraceful. He chuckled on his way back to earth.

“I was just checking on something. Had to be sure that I wasn’t seeing things.”

His eyes were red and puffy, but his annoyingly cheerful attitude was starting to return. Utahime couldn’t tell if she was relieved or annoyed.

“Checking on what?”

“Eh,” Gojo put a hand over the diary in his pocket.

“Doesn’t matter now.”

[magicalqueennightmare]

One Question Answered

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

You've been avoiding Elijah since he healed you so he tracks you down but not for the reason you assume

The one side effect of Elijah healing you was that you had no excuse to stay away from the Mikaelson compound. You didn't want to drag any of them into your fight, yeah logically it made little sense to not step back and let them handle it but this was your fight. You had brought this chaos down onto the hunting community because the one thing you'd yet to even tell Rebekah was the mastermind behind trying to form a squadron of people for hire out of hunters was your ex.

You were in Marcel’s gym, something he'd worked out with Bek. It was a little crazy considering you'd been attacked by humans to be working out surrounded by vampires with earbuds in but here you were. Music blasted as you landed punch after punch on one of the heavy bags. You had people tracking Evan. He'd be found and if you cut the head off the snake that should work.

You had to show patience but the longer he was out there poisoning people against decent hunters the better a chance someone got hurt and that person may not have an original vampire ready to feed them blood to speed up the process.

You'd avoided direct conversation with both Elijah and Klaus. Klaus was simple enough to avoid, offer of a decent bourbon warmed the hybrid out of conversation. Kol would let it go when you said you would ask for help if you couldn't handle it.

Rebekah was pissed you'd lied to her initially about why you needed your Nova put into storage for a while and even more pissed you wouldn't give names to who had attacked you. Elijah, well he was even worse. You weren't sure what had changed between the two of you but the last couple weeks had been tense to say the least.

When you couldn't manage to avoid him he would of course question if you were ready to tell him who'd hurt you. More than once he'd cursed your tattoo and it's warding for taking away his ability to compel you into telling him.

When you'd accused him of not respecting boundaries he'd rebutted that it wasn't crossing boundaries to make an attempt to keep you safe. That had been days ago. You'd steered clear of the compound choosing to see Rebekah somewhere else or not at all.

—--------------

The only reason you were at Marcel's gym was because it was the only place nearby you could walk into to work off stress with no questions being asked as to why you were there.

You weren't sure where your head was but when someone pulled your earbud out of your left ear you spun around mid punch. Elijah seemed slightly amused as he easily grabbed your fist before it could make contact with his jaw “Decent hit considering” you narrowed your eyes at him and it was only then you'd noticed the gym was empty.

“What are you doing here Elijah? Rebekah said you were out of town” he shrugged almost innocently “I assumed the best way to get your guard down was to make you think I wasn't in town. You've been avoiding me it seems” you moved your hand which was still in his “Can I have this back?” He smirked slightly “Are you going to try to run to not talk to me because we both know I can catch you”

You shrugged “Why would I run when I know for a fact it would be useless” he finally let go of your hand and gave your earbud back. You took it and turned to your bag that was sitting on the floor nearby. “Well I'm not running and you wanted to talk” you spoke over your shoulder as you squatted down to put your earbuds in their case. You stood up and faced him before starting to unwrap your hands. You suddenly felt out of place standing there in an oversized shirt and Nike leggings while he was of course dressed impeccably.

His eyes roamed across your body and you felt heat rise to your face, your heart pounding in your ears. He had a habit of making you forget when you were supposed to be putting room between the two of you “I'm not here to pursue the conversation of who attacked you. I trust that should you get in over your head you'll ask for assistance”

—-----------

Elijah relished the moments he managed to render you speechless. From the moment he'd met you the ability to seemingly always have a retort waiting was something he admired about you. Even when you were uncomfortable in a situation or nervous you hid it well.

Now, watching you standing in front of him fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, he had the urge to say anything he could to make your heart race again. The sound was music to his ears. “Then what are you here for Elijah?”

He smiled slightly “While I'm not here to discuss that matter I am here for a different one” your eyes narrowed at his words, distrust clear on your face but another emotion showed there also. You were trying to hide your attraction to him but he could see it. The way your eyes tracked him, how your heartbeat increased if he touched you even innocently. It intrigued him to no end. Many years had passed since a woman demanded his attention in this way.

“Considering you wouldn't answer my calls I thought I'd try my luck face to face. Would you accompany me to dinner?”

—--------------

Did Elijah just ask you out? No, there was no way. He must have meant dinner with his siblings or another ball he wanted a plus one for. “What do you mean?” You asked rather lamely, wishing you were wearing anything besides your workout clothes with your hair up in a lazy braid.

He gave you that smile that made your stomach flip. Damn he was gorgeous. “My darling little hunter, will you go on a date with me? Was that plain enough to make my intentions clear?”

Could a brain really short circuit? Had it not been that you knew for certain that the blood Elijah had given you had indeed cured you of any of your injuries you would've been certain the taser had caused brain damage. Who knew maybe it had? “Intentions clear” you finally spoke after a moment, feeling your head spin a bit.

“Is that a yes or a no?” He asked, causing a nervous laugh to slip out from you. What was your life at this point? You nodded slowly “That's a yes Elijah. I'd love to but can I ask one thing because of something Kol and Rebekah both said”

“Which is?” He asked a bit cautiously at the mention of his younger siblings. You knew you should probably let it go but this question had been weighing on you along with the Evan situation. “They said blood sharing was a thing, like vamps didn't do it lightly and that you normally would only open a vein to save one of them. So why heal me? Why willingly give me a part of you when my injuries weren't life threatening?”

He crossed the space between the two of you, raising a hand to cup your face much the same way he had when he'd healed you and it took everything in you to not turn into his touch. His dark eyes bore into you and yet again you found your heart racing “Because seeing you injured and in pain infuriated me. Someone hurt you and had you not already lived a life filled with resiliency those injuries may very well have been life threatening. If spilling some of my blood spares you pain I'll gladly do it however many times it's necessary”

You swallowed hard before saying “Still doesn't answer why. I'm nothing special. I could be replaced a thousand times over” he shook his head, his fingers lightly lifting your chin where you had no choice but to look him square in the eye. His eyes flicked down to your lips as he spoke “I have met many people who may have been expandable, you however are not. That's why I healed you, there was no other option”

Was it lust, attraction or pure stupidity that made you close the space between you and him? The moment your lips brushed against his you could feel the tension that had long since hung in the air between the two of you threaten to burst.

One of his hands went to the back of your head holding you in place while his other went to your hip, fingertips almost bruising with how close he pulled you to him. Your hands went to his shoulders, trying to find something to ground yourself as heat washed straight through you. A light moan fell from your lips into his as he angled his head to deepen the kiss, tongue dancing across yours.

Your fingers found the back of his head, desperately tugging at the carefully styled locks. He groaned into your mouth and you felt a fresh wave of desire hit you. His hands went down to your thighs easily lifting you into his arms. You gladly wrapped your legs around his waist, never breaking free from his lips even if your lungs were beginning to burn with the need for air.

He moved across the room, bracing your back against one of the mats that lined the wall as he broke free from your lips. Your chest was heaving as he continued his assault down your jaw to your neck. You felt your heart jump when he gently nipped at the sensitive flesh of your neck, causing your back to arch off the wall pushing you into him which caused his body to react,he shifted his hips against yours. The feeling alone was enough to pull a deep moan from you. Your hands went under his jacket, fingers digging into his shoulders through the soft material of his shirt.

The sound of two throats clearing causing you and Elijah to break away from each other. You glanced over his shoulder to see Rebekah and Marcel standing in the entryway of the gym. “I had no clue you two were talking again” Rebekah greeted cheerfully as if she hadn't just walked in on you and one of her brothers.

You groaned lightly as Elijah buried his face in the skin at the bend of your neck. Seeing him so damn disheveled and knowing you were the cause was enough to make any woman have a strange surge of pride. You grinned at Rebekah over his shoulder before he leaned up to place a chaste kiss to your lips before lowering you to the ground.

Both of you quickly rearranged whatever clothing was out of place before turning to face the newcomers. Rebekah was barely containing her laughter. “I'll see you at nine?” You asked and he smirked slightly “I'll see you at nine”

You watched him walk out and looked at Rebekah “Not a word” Marcel chuckled as he walked further into the gym “Never thought I'd see Elijah so worked up over a human and he picks a hunter”

Rebekah shook her head at Marcel then looked back at you “So I'm assuming that display means you're now dating my brother?” You shrugged, still a little dazed “I have a date with him” she smiled brightly “Brilliant. Let's go shopping for you a new outfit then”

Home

[luveline]

OK THE STEVE ZOMBIE AU BUT HE DOES FINALLY MIRACULOUSLY FIND ROBIN OR MAYBE DUSTIN OR LITERALLY ANYONE FAMILIAR. Our girl is happy but also like 👀 u finna ditch me now?

theres literally no zombies in this lmao </3 apocalypse au with new (but not really) boyfriend steve wherein you reunite with some old friends and find a community (and worry steve is gonna break up w u) fem!reader 7k words

The border between Indiana and Michigan is quiet. Nothing denotes its location besides a Welcome to Indiana sign. 

Steve's hand tightens around yours. You stand there for minutes, wind breezing past your tired bodies and ruffling his limp hair. 

"Do you think this is our last time seeing Indiana?" you ask quietly. 

There's no need to shout. The town surrounding the border is abandoned. 

He drops your hand. You miss his touch and the soothing effect it gives to hold it immediately. 

"Maybe," he says. "Does that bother you?" 

It fucking scares you. Staying there wasn't really an option anymore, not with the infestation of geeks dribbling away from Indianapolis or the lack of food. And besides that, you'd wanted to get to Michigan badly. Steve and his friend Robin had been planning to come here together before their untimely separation. Half of Hawkins had been aiming for Michigan after the news broke all those months ago — Illinois, Ohio, and Kentucky overrun by flesh-eating monsters. 

But if you leave Indiana, you're admitting it's a lost cause. That the lives you led there are gone, candles snuffed out by a sudden ripping gale. 

"I just…" You look over your shoulder at Michigan. "Can't believe we're here." 

"I think I'm glad we're here." 

You cock your head toward him. 

"Not just to find Robin," he clarifies. "But, no offence? Indiana was kicking your ass." 

You grimace at his implication. Indiana was kicking your ass. You've rolled your ankle more times than you can count. You'd fallen ten feet through the floor and given yourself a major concussion. You've been snarled at, robbed at knifepoint, and almost eaten. 

"Fucking Indiana," you say. 

"Fuck Indiana." He turns on his heel, but not before he's wrapped a hand around your arm to drag you with him. "Michigan better be nice to my girl, or we're going to Canada." 

You've already let him walk you a couple of feet when you have the bearings to splutter, "Your girl?" 

He ignores you, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips. You’re pretty confident in being his girlfriend, but something about being ‘his girl’ makes your head rush.

You'd found a gun a little ways back but no ammunition for it. It's a good prop regardless, so Steve keeps it in hand stuffed into the pocket of his windbreaker ready to scare off anyone with enough wits to find guns scary. You're sitting ducks otherwise, armed with one small penknife and the metal baseball bat that Steve keeps in the strap of his rucksack, so you stick to the side roads. Being out in the open is risky. You're used to this mode of living, adept at slinking and skulking in dimly dark places. 

"Steve?" you ask, a murmur in the ringing quiet. Cicadas chirp in the trees, leaves rustling with each burst of wind. 

"Yeah?" he asks shortly, distracted by the door in front of him. 

He's attempting to pick the lock of a convenience store's sidedoor. You're standing guard.

"Where do you think Robin is?" 

He doesn't answer for a while. He works a delicate job, the slim pick in his hand creaking formidably with every wrong move. He's too forceful, and you're the better locksmith, but your wrist still twinges from your fall in the woods a few days ago. Steve's too protective for his own good. 

"I don't know. But she's smart, and-" He hisses, hair falling into his eyes. "I'm hoping she's still here." 

"If I were her, I'd wait for you." 

He tips his head back to meet your eyes. "If you ever stay somewhere dangerous waiting for me, I'll fist fight you." 

Usually you'd burst into laughter at his familiar abrupt absurdity — you've grown to adore his jokes now that you know there's no real malice behind them — but you want him to hear what you're saying. You want to know if he'd do the same. 

"I would," you say softly. 

The lock clicks open. 

Steve grins at you. "You won't need to. You're stuck with me like glue." 

Inside of the store is a sorry sight. While the shutters had been down, a good sign, the interior is much less promising. Sunshine filters in through the smallest cracks, casting a scarce light over what's left of the aisles. Two are crushed to one side as if a huge hand has swept them away. Smashed booze bottles litter the floor. Glass like snow crunches underfoot, and a sticky sour smell is heavy in the air. 

You ease into the room on pins. 

"There's gotta be something," Steve says, pulling his pocket-sized torch out to give you a better view. 

Where the shelves have collapsed, there's a small tunnel to the front of the room. You bend down to assess it. 

"I think there's cookies over there." 

"Where?" Steve demands. You point to aforementioned treats.

He army crawls through the gap and pops out on the other side. Those few seconds where you can't see him are unsettling, and from the speed with which he looks at you, he may have felt the same. 

"Keep an eye out," he says. 

You turn to the door. You've closed it tight but it won't lock without a key, and anyone might assume what you have and come inside. 

Steve hisses an excited, "Yes!" 

"How'm I s'posed to keep watch when you're doing that?" 

"Babe, there's fucking Chips Ahoy." He loves them.

"I'm sick of Chips Ahoy," you mumble to yourself. "I miss carrots. And potatoes. I miss pasta. Pasta." 

"Should I be jealous?" 

"Definitely. I'd trade you for a full, home-cooked meal any day, handsome. Fresh made pasta, sun dried tomatoes. Garlic bread." You could cry thinking about it, all those rich flavours together. 

"Call me crazy, but I think we could make you some pasta. Look-" He holds up a small jar. "Crushed garlic." 

You brighten. "Where'd you find that?" 

Garlic is a great flavour to make literally anything taste better, like all the canned stuff people don't always take: artichoke hearts, asparagus, aubergine. 

"Holy shit, score.” Steve holds another tin up, torch held between his chest and his upper arm. 

Your eyes turn round as saucers. 

That night, you decide to stay in the convenience store. You'll be cornered if somebody tries to get in, but you'll be safe from geeks and the elements. Two out of three isn't bad. 

You and Steve share the only fork, chowing down on his amazing find of tinned vegetable soup and dumplings. It barely registers in your head that it's cold, it's so nice to be eating something that isn't spaghettios. You could've built a fire outside to warm it if you weren't scared of being spotted by scroungers. Or worse, cannibals. 

"Maybe we should go outside. Look for smoke," you say. Smoke means people.

"Good idea.” He urges you to take what's left of the soup, stands, and kisses the top of your head as he does.

You're pretty sure there's bliss like the light of a star radiating off of your skin, elated at his easy affection. You're almost as happy to get to finish the soup. 

While he's gone, you open your bag and scrounge for what little self-care you have. Toothpaste is abundant in every store no matter how looted, as is soap, but soap needs water, and you're running low. You brush your teeth with toothpaste alone and use a little bit of water on a rag to wipe the oil off of your face, guilty and thankful at once. If you don't wash yourself when you can, you'll go crazy. 

You apply another layer of roll on old spice and hope it'll hold out until you can find another lake, river, or tributary, which shouldn't be impossible. Michigan is surrounded by water, a fact that had put you off coming here at first. 

You go where Steve goes, though, so Michigan it had been, and Michigan it is. 

Your first night’s already proved fruitful. There's more than enough food here if you're willing to get weird (and you and Steve usually are). More food than you could carry. 

Which is a little suspicious, now that you think about it. 

Nobody thought to look here? 

Is there anybody to look? 

You push all your stuff aside and scramble onto your knees, suddenly paranoid. Steve's taking too long, what if this place is a trap? A honeytrap to lure in mindless ants. What if they've already grabbed him, and– 

"Oh, Jesus," Steve says as he opens the door, voice uber loud in the night time stillness. "You scared me. What's the matter, need to pee?" 

"I thought somebody kidnapped you," you say, trying for joking and missing by a mile. 

Steve leans against the door. He's regained his controlled volume and demeanour, "Safe and sound. I'm serious, do you need to pee?" 

You and Steve pad out your corner of the store against the pilfered chip aisle. He lets you use his chest as a pillow, and when he turns off the torch there's nothing to do but listen to his breathing and feel his chest move under your ear. 

You rub his sternum with the heel of your hand. "You could use me as a pillow sometime. If you wanted to." 

"Yeah? You're softer than me, I think I'd love that." 

You draw a short line to his navel, thinking. Lucky to have found him. Lucky to like him this much, and lucky that he likes you. You're 'his girl', and you get to sleep on his chest and sometimes when he's not worrying himself to the bone he'll tell you secrets. You know him better than you’ve ever known anybody.

He curls his arm around your shoulder and takes your upper arm into his hand, the heat from his fingers seeping into your skin. You've taken off your coat because it's uncomfortable. Steve will fold it over your chest when you fall asleep. 

"It was a good day, right?" He sounds terrified of jinxing it. 

You kiss his chest, or his t-shirt, so lightly he likely doesn't feel it. A kiss for your sake rather than his. "It was a good day." 

He holds you close. His heart thrums in your head. 

"Floor's like a fucking ice cube," he mutters. 

You cover as much of him as you can with your arms, sleep tugging at your eyelids. "I'll keep you warm," you promise as they close. "Wake me up when you get too tired." 

"Alright." He massages your arm in his hand gently, and you fall asleep. 

—

Steve flinches awake at the whisper of a sound outside. A younger Steve, one who'd known nothing about geeks, or people, really, how awful they can be, wouldn't have woken. Hell, Steve could've slept through a hurricane when he was in high school, all those years where he'd stayed up too late playing hooky and smoking Malboro's behind the Big Buy. He looks back now and wonders how much sleep he missed out on in his king-sized mattress, up to his eyeballs in cushy sheets and fresh linens. Why had sleeping felt like such a chore? 

And after that, when he and Robin would stay up watching shitty movies and eating the free stale popcorn from the video store. Though he wouldn't trade any of that away. 

Fucking idiot, he thinks to himself scathingly. He was not supposed to fall asleep. He checks you over quickly. In your sleep you've slid off of his chest and onto the tarp next to him, but you’re unharmed.

He sits up and scrambles for his penknife. Weak dusk light breaks through the store's shutters, dust motes disturbed by his movements diving between rays of light like lightning bugs. His joints click with the force and speed with which he springs up to protect you. 

What sound was that? It had come as loud as a crack of thunder, but could've been something small, a squirrel over a tree branch. 

He should wake you up. If it's one person, even two, you could help him. But if it's more, and they find you… 

He shoulders open the door and walks out into the morning light. 

— 

You wake to hands on your shoulders. 

You're scared instantly. Steve usually wakes you reluctantly, a shake and a whispered, "Up," or, "Up, baby," if he's especially tired. 

"It's me," he says, his voice burning with something you haven't ever heard before. "It's me. Time to wake up." 

You peel your eyes open, horrified at the sight above you. Steve face hovers over your own with his hair tucked behind his ears and a blazing smile, daylight behind him haloing him in gold. 

"You didn't wake me." You bring clumsy hands to his rough cheeks. "Why didn't you wake me? You look so tired." 

He looks electrified, the bags under his eyes no match for his smile. You can feel it as he leans down, as he plants a kiss firmly to your unsuspecting mouth. He kisses you all over, a joyous chuckle bubbling out between them. 

You laugh yourself, tickled as his stubble scratches your cheeks, your neck as he works his way down. 

"There's- There's people," he says. "My people. Fucking Robin-" 

"What?" 

You're a half inch from headbutting him unconscious. Luckily he's already veering upward, stuffing what you'd left on the ground back into your packs. 

"I haven't seen her yet, but there's this other girl we went to school with, Darcy Mulligan, and she said this is an outpost, right? They keep all this shit here for people who need it, and then they watch to see if you're dangerous-" 

"They were watching us?" 

He plows onward, ignoring you, "And they saw us and I went out thinking they were gonna shoot me but-" 

"Steve, we can't go with these people." 

His smile fades a little. "No, we aren't. I told them already, we aren't that stupid. But," — he grabs your arm — "they said they're gonna bring Robin." 

You don't want to keep fighting him. To shoot down this newfound hope, this lightness you've never seen him shine with before, feels cruel. But you don't want him to get ahead of himself. 

"What if they're bringing back reinforcements?" 

He swallows and nods, reassuring your conjectures. "Right, I thought that too, but- I don't know, baby, Darcy was with a guy, and they both had guns. They could've shot me. 'N' if they were empty, the guy could've just knocked me over the head with it, you know?" He crawls impossibly closer than he'd been, hands rubbing your arm unthinking. "I think this is real." 

I want it to be real goes unsaid. 

You're ashamed that you can't find any excitement to wear with him. Dread licks over your skin as you smile at him, as you cup his cheek in your hand, and as you stand up to help him pack away his things. You feel like you're going to your death. 

Steve can read you well. He grabs your shoulders. You're selfishly hoping he'll say you can run. He doesn't. "You trust me?" he asks. 

You deflate, shoulders falling. "Of course I do." 

"Thank you." He tries to pull you in for a hug but you're reeling, distracted, he has to persuade you, and he does so sweetly. "Hey, c'mere, come on." He pulls at you. "Come here." 

You flop into his chest with all the grace of a shored fish, arms limp. He smells like sweat which probably means you do too, but he smells like himself, and that's what's important. 

"Nothing bad is going to happen to you." 

"What about you?" 

"If Robin's here, I have to take the risk. She's my best friend." 

You understand that. You'd never ask him not to do this, because you'd do it for him. If you'd ever gotten separated, you'd spend months looking for him. Years, maybe. He's the only person left. 

You have no clue if he'd do the same for you.

He scrubs at your back roughly. Such a boyish kind of hug. 

"You have your knife?" he asks. 

You have it. Rather than let them corner you in here, you both make your way out into the woods. Steve shows you the short path he'd taken to find Darcy Mulligan and the man she'd been with, evidence of their stakeout left in the embers of a small fire. You stand frozen with a tree trunk to your back and Steve stations himself in front of you, pack secured on your back. Steve has his baseball bat in hand. What good will it serve against a possible group of gunmen? You start to panic, really panic, and you're a hair's width from begging him to run with you when his grip on the bat falters. 

"Fuck," he says softly. 

Three people turn the corner; a dark haired girl with twin pigtails and a rifle hanging at her side; a boy, presumably the man Steve had mentioned; and a shorter girl with light brown hair, her expression — her entire body — lit with happiness, elation, and her laugh loud enough to prove it. 

"Holy shit," Steve says. 

You forget to be scared. You forget to worry. Steve lets the baseball bat drop out of his hand, and then he's taking three weak steps forward to meet her, and that's it, it's her, Robin throws her arms around his neck and nearly barrels him to the ground. His hands come up to meet her. He's shaking so hard you're surprised he can grip her waist, his face crushed to the side of her head. 

Tears well in your eyes. To get to see this, so soon, when you'd thought maybe Steve might never see his best friend ever again, is a blessing. It's a fucking miracle. 

Your tears bite back when the boy moves forward and hugs him too. 

You tighten your grip on your knife and pull it from your pocket, confused and alarmed that Steve's about to get gutted, but Steve starts to shake worse. 

It takes you a second to realise he's crying. 

"Henderson," he says. 

Oh. It's Dustin. You've heard enough stories about him to know it. He has the same curly hair, and while he's taller than you'd thought, Steve had only ever talked about one Henderson. 

Steve's relief is a knot in your throat. You wipe your cheek quickly with the back of your hand and shove the knife into your pocket. 

Over their heads, the dark haired girl narrows her eyes at you. 

"I can't believe you're here," Steve says, voice raspy with emotion. 

You have never heard him cry. 

"Where have you been, Steve?" Robin asks hoarsely. 

You take a step toward him without thinking, and he hears it despite everything and looks up at you with a teary-eyed smile. 

"We got lost," he says, holding your gaze. 

"Lost? It's been months. We thought you were zombie mulch, you shithead." 

"I'm here, aren't I?" He rolls his eyes at you, like he's saying Get a load of this guy? 

It's a reassuring gesture even if he doesn't mean for it to be. You're still a team. 

"Hi," Robin says, her hands clasped in Steve's shirt, but her attention fully yours. "I'm Robin." 

You don't have a chance to introduce yourself. Steve does it for you, and he says, "She's my girl. Saved me this entire time." 

What the fuck does that mean?

Robin looks at you again. "No fucking way." 

"Only took an apocalypse for Steve to get a girlfriend," Dustin says. 

There's something about their playful arguing that makes you want to cry again. It's the relief they've padded it with. You can imagine how brilliant it must feel to make fun of somebody you'd thought long dead. 

"Don't worry, Y/N," Robin says gravely, "there are tons of dudes at camp. You have options." 

Steve steps on her foot. 

"We should head back," Darcy says shortly. 

On the walk, Steve feels very far away. He keeps looking at you to check you're there, but his thoughts are months ago, recounting the details of your survival to his friends in short. You and Steve had been together since basically the very start when you'd saved him from a horde, and he tells that with pride. So much so you feel heat blooming behind your neck and at the tips of your ears. 

"We fucking floored to to the meeting point but you guys weren't there-" 

"Sorry-" 

"No, it's okay," he says. "I get it. It was rough." All of you shiver at the memory. Hawkins had been hit hard, a close knit town with nowhere to hide.

"No we- we should’ve fucking waited- I begged them to wait," Robin says. 

"Who did you get out with?" 

And there's the list of survivors. It's short. The amount of orphaned kids is extremely depressing, and for a while there's silence. All those people. Dustin's mom, Robin's dad. 

"Hopper's here, though," Dustin adds after a while.

"That explains why you're still alive." 

"Actually, dickhead, we're alive because I'm awesome. The radio-" 

"How many people are there?" Steve interrupts. 

"It's a whole new world, Harrington." 

It's better. 

You turn onto what looks like an old college campus and suddenly, there's people. So many people you walk backward and almost tumblr off of the curb, because fuck. There's noise, and smells, and sounds. There are little kids running around in a closed off area of the quad, laughing and chasing after one another. There are guns on guards patrolling makeshift walls. 

Your ears start ringing. 

"Think your girlfriend's gonna pass out," Darcy says. 

You're the last one to figure out she's talking about you. 

"Oh, hey. Hey," Steve says, stepping toward you. 

You take another step back. 

"Baby," he says softly. 

"There's people here." 

"So many new boyfriend's to choose from," he jokes. He's tentative, but he offers his hand like he knows you'll take it. "Come on. I promise I won't get jealous when you run off with somebody cooler." 

"I don't want somebody cooler," you say. 

"Okay, awesome, 'cause I was lying. I'd be super jealous. I'd feed myself to the geeks." 

"Don't say that." 

He grins at you, hand hovering in the gap between your bodies unwavering. Trust me, it says. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. 

You take Steve's hand. 

—

The world is more than you and Steve against it. There are people to answer to. 

Chief Hopper actually recognises you when he sees you. He recognises Steve first, and he gives him a pat on the back. You aren't expecting any hellos, figuring you're barely a memory to him, but Hopper smiles at you like you've just told him you have the antidote for zombification in your rucksack. 

"It's good to see you, kid."

That night, in the dining hall, you get a small welcome between shift announcements. Hundreds of heads turn your way, and while some house cagey unsurety, the majority are happy to see you. 

You sit with Steve and his friends (plural, a growing number, because nearly all of them are here), torn between stopping him from crying his eyes out with happy tears and listening to the older woman sitting beside you. Her name is Mallory, and she offers a generous gift. 

"You have any questions at all, sweetpea, and you can come to me. Or if you just wanna talk, my shoulder's right here." She pats it for emphasis. 

"Thank you so much." But, you want to say, I have Steve.

"Young love, and in a time like this." Mallory's smile is genuine, if a little haunted. "It's amazing." 

You indulge her, turning from Steve just slightly. "But?" 

She brushes a strand of hair behind her ears. It's three colours, a faded red at the middle, a mix of grey and brown at the top. "Listen, I have some unsolicited advice for you hon, but I'm not trying to offend you when you just got here." 

You shake your head. "No," you say hurriedly, "of course not. I wouldn't think that." 

She digs around in her pocket and opens her hand covertly under the table. When you look at it, she hisses. "No, don't. Keep your eyes up." 

You right your gaze accordingly. The canteen is simply that — the college's canteen. Every night there's something cooking, and every morning if they can afford it. Although you'd been told some people eat at home, most people come here, because this is the only place with a reliable generator. From where you're sitting, you can see everybody, and you suspect Steve had chosen this vantage point on purpose. 

Hopper stands at the front of the room behind another man, who's moved from the important stuff and is now lamenting at the book club's low attendance. They have a fucking book club. You can't believe it. 

Mallory drops something into your hand. A hard-boiled candy.

"My advice," she says, the two of you watching as Hopper and the second man confer, "is to try and be in both worlds at once." 

"You've lost me." 

"That's not a good sign, I've barely started," she jokes, laughing so much that the men sitting across from you laugh too. She carries on, "What I mean is, this isn't home. It probably never will be. We fight so hard to make it home, we plant trees, 'n' we sleep warm every night, but…" She squeezes your shoulder amicably, a light, quick touch. "I know how it felt when I got here. Me and my husband, we kept to ourselves. And we were right to, not everybody here can be good. But when he died, I had nobody." 

You let your eyes drop to you plate, a small portion of a soup that's not the best and a sandwich that's marginally better. You get what Mallory's trying to say — don't put your eggs all in one basket, not when the basket might get mauled to death any day coming. 

You get what she's trying to say. You don't appreciate it. 

"Thank you," you say weakly. 

She nods, and Steve saves you from anymore conversation with an arm hooked through yours. 

“You okay?” he asks. Unmistakably fond. 

You can feel the eyes of all of his friends. All these people you knew too, or knew of, and should be happy to see. You should be so fucking happy right now. 

So why aren’t you?

You turn your face to his and take him in. He’s got a red rash of skin over the top of his head from prolonged sunburn and a scar under his left eye from a cruel tree branch. He looks different than the Steve you’d met at school, and he looks different still from the Steve you’d saved on day 1. 

But he’s your Steve. 

You drop your forehead into his neck, love like a warm blanket encapsulating you when he presses a kiss against your forehead. 

“I know,” he says, moving back, forcing you to sit up again. “It’s crazy.”

You return his smile, though you aren’t sure you're on the same page. 

—

Little Hawkins makes you want to curl up into a ball and cry. It’s a floor of rooms in the campus dormitories, and Robin shares with a couple of other people your age. She only has a mattress and her things on the ground in one room, but soon Steve and another guy are dragging another mattress from across campus while you watch. 

"No offence," Steve says, "but I'm trying to spoil you right now. Can you stop pouting? I'm giving you a breather." 

"I don't believe you." 

He and the unnamed man lean the mattress up outside of Robin's door. 

"Well," he says warmly, and you're starting to feel lovesick with how sweet he's being, nearly enough to forget how scared you are, "maybe you should try." 

Steve is nice. He's always been nice, ever since you met him, even if that nice was strapped down and buried under one layer of derision, one layer of sarcasm, and another layer of sternness for prosperity. But this is another level. Ever since he woke you up he's been ridiculous (he's been the kind of affectionate you've secretly ached for). Steve's sparing with affection but you wouldn't ever complain — can you expect him to play doting boyfriend when each day he's hardwired and on the fritz trying to make sure you both don't die agonising, gross deaths? 

This is fucking crazy, though. 

Steve pulls you bodily by the waist into his front and talks into the highest point of your cheek, words muffled by your skin, "When was the last time we slept on a mattress? Gotta be months ago," — you lean into him entirely, he takes your weight with zero qualms — "when we were in that house by the lake with all the soaps." 

"So many soaps," you murmur, melted by his closeness. 

He laughs. He giggles, all boyish and pretty and you can't help yourself, you lift your chin, practically begging for a kiss. 

You get a short one. Steve's too busy laughing. "And the canned pickles. I know they were, like, doomsdayers, but what did we count, like-" 

"Fifty seven-" 

"Fifty seven jars of pickles," he finishes. 

If this is what Steve is like here, you can make the trade. You don't trust anybody that isn't him, and it feels like you're surrounded by people who could easily hurt you, but his easy joy right now is contagious. 

Robin's voice comes loud from inside her room. "Hey, lovebirds! Are you coming in? They turn all the lights off in like, twenty minutes." 

It's obvious how much Steve trusts Robin. You get the mattress in her room through a series of squeezing and hoping, and she shows you her fancy little sink with running water, nothing short of pride in her eyes. 

"It's freezing," she says, "but you can wash up." 

It genuinely doesn't bother you that it's cold, emotionally. Physically you get the jitters, and it's worth it because Steve pities you and wraps you up tight to rub your arms. He and Robin talk a lot, so much that your brain has given up on listening. It's not something you're happy to hear anyhow, your perilous journey. Steve is generous on your account, leaving out all your most embarrassing moments. 

You sit on the end of the mattress and wonder if you can take your shoes off. 

"Robin?" you ask. 

Both turn to look at you, surprised. 

"Yeah?" 

"Does the door lock?"

She brings her legs up to her chest, chin on her knees. "There's no deadbolt, but you need a key to open it from the outside. So kind of?" She watches you for a moment, and then she nods towards the desk covered in books. "I used to put the chair under the handle when I first got here. You can do that, if you're worried." 

You nod uselessly and get up to do just that. 

"Thanks, Robs," Steve says. 

"Yep." She flops into a ball on her side and pulls the blankets up and over her face. "Goodnight, then." 

Steve laughs and steps over your legs so he can get to her. "Robin," he says, pulling the blankets down. "I- I really missed you." 

She holds out her arms and they hug. She pats his back. "Missed being a pain in my neck, maybe," she mutters. He pushes away from her in mock disgusts and they smile, a shared smile that douses you in an unfair jealousy. You shrug it off pretty quickly when he sits down on the mattress beside you, looking content and, shockingly, really tired. 

He encourages you up to the top of the mattress beside him and folds up the blanket from the rucksack for you as a pillow, sliding it under your head. When he seems confident that you're comfortable he blows out the candle burning on Robin's desk. 

This part's easy, you and Steve in the dark. You're practised in the art of moving around one another. 

Your heart pounds in your ears as Steve pulls a heavy blanket over the both of you, his arm strewn across your stomach haphazardly. 

"Are you okay?" he whispers. 

You turn your face to his though you can't see it. "Of course I am. Are you okay?" 

"I know this is weird." 

Weird doesn't feel like the right word. Surreal, maybe. Something out of a dream. 

"I think my back aches more on the mattress, I'm so used to twisting myself into knots between your legs." 

He snorts. "That doesn't sound right." 

You cover his arm with your hand. "Pig." 

"You can lie on my chest, if you want." 

"Think it's your turn to use me as cushioning." Your voice is coloured by your smile. 

He exhales into your shoulder. 

"Mm. This is nice," he murmurs. 

"You want me to take the first shift?" 

"I don't think we need shifts." 

You can't agree. Steve trusts Robin and you trust Steve, but you do not trust Robin. She seems lovely, and through Steve's stories you know she's a good person, but he hasn't seen her in a year. She could be anybody, and she's locked into a room with you.

You don't mean to be deceitful. "Alright," you utter, "no shifts." 

"You smell nice," Steve says. His lips move against your skin, and he lifts his head enough to kiss your jaw, three kisses in succession. "Goodnight, honey." 

You raise your hand to his head. "Goodnight." 

He falls asleep to you carding through his hair. Even when you're sure he's dead to the world you keep going, the feeling of it between your fingers calming. 

You don't sleep a wink. 

—

It becomes a mantra. Steve is happy here. Over and over and over. 

You're happy too by consequence; Steve is a new person, still the man you know but with this emanating happiness rolling off of him in waves. 

Chief Hopper has promised to get you and Steve a place together if you want one. This had scared you half to death, because you want one bad, but you'd been expecting a little resistance from Steve (or, admittedly, a lot). Because… 

You're starting to think maybe you aren't scared of the people here. You trust Hopper to run a community that's safe if he says it is, and as the days stretch into a week, two weeks, you start to feel secure. Steve's never far, but that's the terrifying part. 

You're worried Steve is going to leave you. 

It sounds dramatic. It is dramatic. But you're scared shirtless that Steve is going to wake up and realise he doesn't owe you a thing, that he doesn't harbour the affection for you that he thinks he does. You're worried that Steve had gone soft on you because you'd been there, like a habit. 

Your feelings for him only grow, despite this. He's fucking handsome when he's clean-shaven, clean in general. Somebody's mom gives him a haircut and you can't believe it, because he's always been good looking but you can tell he's more confident like this, and the confidence makes him golden. 

He's also super handsy. 

You love it, and you get it. You know you look prettier clean, even more so after somebody's mom gives you a haircut and you've managed to scrub the perma-dirt from under your nails. The want to kiss him is dialled up by a thousand because you always have clean teeth.  

The nagging fear remains even when he's got a mouthful of your neck. 

"Ouch," you moan, hands in his hair, legs spread enough to accommodate his figure between them, "s'like a geek, nibbling on me." 

Steve bites a little harder. 

You gasp at his show of force and push your head away from him. "Steve," you say with a laugh.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologises, pulling back. Elbows at your ribs, he holds his weight off of you though there's no reason to. "My teeth missed you." 

"What the fuck." 

"All of me missed you." He strokes the side of your face mildly. "I hate this." 

You wiggle under him, mattress springs digging into your back. He doesn't bother explaining what he'd meant, only leans down to kiss your cheek, your chin, the tip of your nose. 

You stare at him. 

"What do you hate?" 

He scrunches his nose up like it's obvious, and you're stupid for not knowing. "Us being on separate schedules. It's fucking shitty." 

You don't have an answer for him. It seems more than lucky that he would assuage your worst feelings considering you haven't told him anything at all. You haven't told him about staying up at night to make sure Robin's not gonna kill him, or how worried you are that he's gonna realise he can leave you now you're safe, now you don't owe each other anything. You haven't told him how much you love him, and how much that would hurt. 

Somehow, you get the impression that he knows anyway. 

"This is really nice," you say eventually. 

He rests his face against yours. You close your eyes. 

"What's nice?" he asks. "Our separation? You're sick, babe. I'm trying to bare my heart here and you're stomping all over it." 

"Not our separation, dummy. This. You lying on top of me. It feels really nice." 

His small laugh warms your cheek. "I know. Why'd you think I let you climb all over me for months?" 

"'Cause otherwise we'd freeze to death?" 

He kisses a line down to the skin under your ear. "That, too. But mostly because it feels good." 

You wrap your arms around him and press your nose to his hair, smelling him for your own self-indulgence. He lets his weight press down on you, shifting his arm so they're digging behind your shoulders. 

You hook a leg behind his. 

"Steve, I…" 

"I love you." 

You stiffen. 

He hugs you that tiny bit tighter. "I love you," he says again. "I should've told you before, but I- I was so afraid that you'd-" He clears his throat quietly. "I was fucking terrified that I was going to let you down. You kept almost dying on me, and I kept realising I wouldn't be able to do this without you." 

"I love you too," you say, shell-shocked. 

He kisses your cheek slowly, softly, and then he lifts himself up so you're face to face. 

"I love you," you say, because he'd said it twice. 

His smile is gentle, eyes creased with a loving amusement. "I know." Steve steals back one of his arms so he can thumb under your eye. "I know you're not sleeping." 

"Steve-" 

"No, listen. I know you don't trust Robin-" 

"I do-" 

"You don't, and it's okay." He cups your cheek. "It's okay. You know, Hopper said it wouldn’t take long to find us a room. A couple more days and you won’t have to worry. And you know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” you say, voice softening to match his own. 

He squeezes your cheek. “There’s a lot of stuff I should say to you and I’m kind of trying to hang onto my last shred of dignity here, but I mean it. More than I’ve ever- More than anyone. I love you.”

Your lips fall into a self-pitying pout. You won’t cry, though you feel like you could, because this is possibly the happiest you’ve ever been in your life. Steve loves you more than anyone, plain as day. He wouldn’t say that if he were going to swap you out for a new apocalypse girlfriend anytime soon, ‘cause Steve doesn’t mess with feelings. He’s earnest. 

“Ever since we got here, I’ve been waiting for you to break up with me,” you say. 

Which is funny in itself. You and Steve kissed each other every now and then for weeks before you had the conversation — it feels juvenile to think of boyfriends and girlfriends in life or death, and, paradoxically, it feels really important. The label means a lot to you. The ‘I love you’ means the world, even if he’s been showing it everyday since he met you. 

He makes a sound that’s a combination of a scoff, a snort, and a pitying sigh. “You’re ridiculous,” he says. 

You laugh so loudly it surprises you both. “I’m ridiculous? Get off of me, rich boy.”

Steve hunkers down. “What? No way. I live here now.”

“Seriously, Harrington, get off. I'm sick of you. Robin promised she’d find me a new boyfriend. Maybe I’ll get one with compassion.”

He laughs. He’s trying not to, and it comes out warm and soft to spite him. “Fine, let’s break up.”

“Fine.”

He tilts his head toward yours until your foreheads are touching, staring into your eyes. It takes a lot of willpower to hold in your laugh. “Wanna go on a date with me?”

You lift your chin and kiss him through giggles. “Yeah, okay. Options are pretty limited here, anyway.”

[dodje-melai]

Can we talk about how fucking sweet Hobie would be in a relationship?

He’d treat you so well every single moment he’s with you. He’d never treat you bad and would always make sure you feel appreciated and wanted.

You guys probably wouldn’t have an official title to your relationship because Hobie “doesn’t believe in labels” (he’s joking when he says that), but everyone who knows you knows that you two are basically dating. However, if it matters to you about putting a label on your relationship with him, he’d be totally cool with doing that. He wouldn’t mind you calling him your partner publicly, and he’d love to do the same with you.

“I don’t mind puttin’ a label on us, luv. Whateva makes ya happy.”

Hobie would treat you almost daily with handmade gifts, or gifts he bought from a small family-owned shop, or something he just stole from a corporate-owned store if it’s something you really really want. He’d also treat you by taking you out, mainly to cool places that he’s found while swinging around. He’d also take you out to concerts by either stealing tickets or sneaking you in.

“‘Ey doll, got us sum tickets to a band ya like.”

“What? Hobie, these tickets are crazy expensive! How the hell did you buy these?”

“I ain’t ever said I bought ‘em.”

And sometimes, if he thinks you’re tough enough for it and you’re willing to go, he’ll take you to riots with him. He’d hold your hand or your hip or just anywhere he can so that he doesn’t lose you in the crowd. He makes sure that nothing bad happens to you, which his spidey sense makes it easier for him to do so. Though if you were to somehow get hurt he’d feel guilty for letting that happen, and he’d patch you up and make sure you heal properly.

“Hobie, I’m fine. I just scraped my knee—“

“I don’t want ya gettin’ an infection, dove. The road’s dirty. Now quit squirmin’, I’m tryna disinfect it.”

Aside from gift giving and quality time, Hobie’s other love language is physical touch. He loves to hold you, kiss you, touch you, anything that involves being close to you. He’ll hold your hand or your hip while walking, and he’ll either hold your waist or slip his hand into your back pocket while you’re standing together. If you’re sitting, he’ll always have his hand on your thigh. Always. Sometimes he’ll even try to sit you on his lap if he wants to be extra close to you.

“Mm… c’mere babes, I wanna be closer to ya.”

“Hobie, I’m literally sitting on top of you. I can’t get any closer.”

“Yes ya can, you’re just not tryin’ hard enough.”

I think a very important aspect of being in a relationship with Hobie would be effective communication. Yes that’s important in all relationships, but it’s extremely important for him especially. He always wants to be aware of what’s too much for you so that he doesn’t cross any boundaries, and if he did, he wants you to feel comfortable enough to tell him what he did. He hates the thought of miscommunication ruining your relationship.

“Darlin’, I can tell somethin’ is wrong. Ya can tell me anythin’, ya know that yeah?”

Hobie is undoubtedly a very loyal partner. He would never even think of cheating on you. You’re practically his everything at this point. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost you; it doesn’t matter how he loses you, any way would be devastating. In turn, he trusts that you are very loyal too. He knows that you’d never cheat on him or flirt with someone else. Why would he date you if he didn’t trust you?

“Ya know I trust ya mo’ than anyone, yeah?”

Hobie doesn’t get jealous or overly possessive. He knows you’re his, there’s no need to consistently flaunt that. Besides, it’s fun watching you tell people that are flirting with you that you’re not single. But if some bastard wants to keep flirting with you after you’ve made it clear that you’re taken and uninterested, then he’ll step in and put that bastard in their place.

“Oi, fuck off mate. They ain’t interested in you.”

Something important about Hobie is that he’ll never lie to you. He keeps secrets, but if you find out about something and confront him about it, he’ll tell you the truth. Even if the secret you found out is that he’s Spider-Man.

“Hobie, this is a serious question, so I need you to tell me the truth. Are you really, genuinely Spider-Man?”

“Yep, I am. You’re a smart one, dove. How much snoopin’ have you been doin’ lately?”

“…I swear to god if you’re messing with me right now I will punt you.”

“Not jokin’. I’m a hundred percent serious, especially ‘bout ya bein’ very smart.”

Basically I think being his partner would be nice :)

[thosearentcrimes]

Me for the past week: Damn I really need to focus on writing this paper about revolutionary self-perception in 1789-1794 France. No distractions, just relevant stuff, deadline's coming up.

Instead:

Maria Edgeworth's 1817 novel Harrington contains a vivid evocation of the Gordon Riots, with two unsympathetic characters taken for Papists and finding refuge in the home of the rich Spanish Jew, the father of the young Jewish woman at the centre of the love story.

huh never heard of her I wonder what was up with her

She held critical views on estate management, politics and education, and corresponded with some of the leading literary and economic writers, including Sir Walter Scott and David Ricardo.

that David Ricardo? from economics?

After Honora died in 1780 Maria's father married Honora's sister Elizabeth (then socially disapproved and legally forbidden from 1833 until the Deceased Wife's Sister's Marriage Act 1907)

wait what

The Deceased Wife's Sister's Marriage Act 1907 (7 Edw. 7. c. 47) was an Act of the Parliament of the United Kingdom, allowing a man to marry his dead wife's sister, which had previously been forbidden.

ok yeah that's pretty much what it says on the tin

The 1907 Act did exactly what it said and no more. It was amended by the Deceased Brother's Widow's Marriage Act 1921 to allow a widow to marry her deceased husband's brother.[36][37] This was a response to First World War deaths to encourage remarriages, reducing war widows' pensions and increasing the birth rate.[37]

the war really did do a lot for gender equality didn't it

anyway what was up with Maria Edgeworth, let's catch up with her

When passing through the village, one of the party wrote, "We found neither mud hovels nor naked peasantry, but snug cottages and smiles all about".[10] A counter view was provided by another visitor who stated that the residents of Edgeworthstown treated Edgeworth with contempt, refusing even to feign politeness.[11]

Ireland moment

Following an anti-Semitic remark in The Absentee, Edgeworth received a letter from an American Jewish woman named Rachel Mordecai in 1815 complaining about Edgeworth's depiction of Jews.[45] In response, Harrington (1817) was written as an apology to the Jewish community.

imagine if Graham Linehan had responded this way to criticism of his transphobic IT crowd episode :)

Rachel Mordecai married widower Aaron Marks Lazarus in 1821, and moved to Wilmington, North Carolina, where she lived for the rest of her life. The Lazaruses had four children together, three daughters and a son, M. E. Lazarus, in a household that also included Mr. Lazarus's seven children from his first marriage.

oh the lady had a son who she named after the author she liked who turned out to be willing to not be anti-semitic, that's nice

Marx Edgeworth Lazarus (February 6, 1822 – 1896) was an American individualist anarchist, Fourierist, and free-thinker.

oh well that sounds nice enough

Lazarus was a practicing doctor of homeopathy

ehhhh

Through his adult life, Lazarus tried to cope with apparent mental and physical disturbances, in particular what seemed to be chronic nocturnal emissions, a condition that at the time was labeled "seminal incontinence" or "spermatorrhea," believed to be detrimental and even fatal to the mind and body. Lazarus sought treatments through homeopathy, hydropathy, and electromagnetic treatments that seemed to bring some temporary relief. He also discussed the condition in his 1852 book Involuntary Seminal Losses: Their Causes, Effects, and Cure," where he suggested that the total sexual abstinence that he had tried to practice might be one of those causes. In 1855, Lazarus shocked some of his fellow Fourierists and free love advocates by marrying a 19 year old woman from Indiana, Mary Laurie (or "Lawrie).[1]

oh... a libertarian...

By the mid-1850s, social movements like Fourierism were in decline, and Lazarus's later life seems to have had less focus. When the Civil War broke out, most members of Lazarus's extended family lived in Southern states and generally supported the Confederate cause. In 1861, Lazarus, was staying with relatives in Columbus, Georgia and joined the local City Light Guard when war broke out, later serving as company physician for the Wilmington, NC Artillery.

on the one hand, obviously very bad to enlist in the Confederate army right, but on the other hand a semen retentionist doing homeopathy to them can't really be classified as "aiding" them can it

After the war, Lazarus continued to practice his areas of medicine and contributed articles and comments to various publications.[5] By his last years, though, he had become a disenchanted recluse known as the "Sand Mountain Hermit" of Jackson County, Alabama.

most normal libertarian

I wonder what those articles and comments are, and what kind of website they're hosted on. Oh.

[sempiternalmuze]

Hi, I saw you are open for Eddie Roundtree requests, so here's my idea.

So reader is an actress or actor and they basically meet at an event and just have a one nightstand and Eddie just gets fond of them and asks them on a date.

Hope I'm not bothering you with this

kiss you fool!

eddie roundtree/loving x f!reader

description: req!

word count: 1.5k

warning(s): none

a/n: hi! sorry this took so long to respond to, but pls its no bother at all!! I actually had a lot of fun thinking about this one and rewrote it a few times. And I ALMOST wrote smut but I decided it would be better suited for another time. Please enjoy and remember, reboots and likes help <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . . :☆ﾟ. ─── ➶ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . . :☆ﾟ. ───

The music that was blasting throughout the house was disorienting on its own, but mixed with a few lines, too many beers, and the aftermath of a sold out show at the bar downtown, Eddie was starting to feel the effects of it all as he stumbled through the living room.

Bodies were pressed up against one another, the air in the room was lacking, despite every door and window in the house being open. The Six had opened their home up to the limited music scene they had made connections with, an attempt to get their name out there, as well as an excuse to drink and party.

Eddie smiled lazily as he found his way onto the couch, sitting in the middle of it, head thrown back. His hair was a mess, the mix of sweat and alcohol only made the pounding in his chest faster.

He felt the couch next to him sink in, looking over he found you. Your hair was up, away from your face, a drink in your hand that made the rings scattered around your fingers shine as you lifted the cup to your lips.

Eddie was a bit dazed by you if he was being honest. The way the low lighting of the house played against your makeup, the way you looked around the party, eyes scanning for something - or someone - made him curious.

"How did a pretty thing like yourself stumble in here?" Eddie shouted, the music almost enough to drown him out.

You looked over at him. His eyes were shiny, glazed. He was high, and his sudden words had caught you off guard. But you recognized him instantly. He was the bassist of one of Teddy's bands. You'd only seen them once or twice in the studio, and had spoken to Billy a handful of times, but you were too busy trying to find your own way in the fame scene.

You gave him a small smile, not wanting to judge too quickly about the powder around his nose.

"The front door was open, and I figured that the rock stars would have something fun to drink." He let out a laugh, nodding his head, wiping his nose clean with his sleeve.

"Yeah, we wanted to welcome the community into our home. I'm in a band you know?"

You nodded, playing along, pretending you could have no possible clue who he was.

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, you know we're nothing special yet, just working on an album right now but I mean…I am pretty good if I say so myself." He held a hand up, playing up on his sarcasm and faux chilled nature.

You rolled your eyes, taking another swig of your drink, shaking your head, "Who are you signed with?"

Eddie sat up at this question, more surprised that that was the first question you asked him, rather than what band he was in.

"With um, Runner Records, specifically we're working with Teddy Price. He," Eddie could feel the high drifting away from him, his mind trying to focus on the conversation you two were working your way on, "He's the only one that thought we might have a chance. Why do you ask?" He asked, unsure if the words he was saying even made sense.

“I know Teddy. He’s a sweetheart, he’s been trying to help me get my own thing out here. I’m acting.” You smiled, placing the empty cup back on the table.

He stuck his hand towards you, "It's nice to meet you. I’m Eddie."

You took his invitation, shaking his hand. The party goers came and went, people leaving to their own homes and apartments, or finding somewhere to sleep in the house itself.

Eventually you found yourself and Eddie alone, the music nothing but a lazy guitar coming from the porch. Eddie had told you about his childhood, how he had become quick friends with Graham, and moved out to LA as much as it broke his heart to leave behind his family. You told him about how you had packed it all up one day, found Teddy, and got lucky. You both found that note similar between you two, both of you felt that you had been more lucky than likely deserved. He was a hard ass who wished he had more power over his sound, you were always trying to find the best path for yourself and your career.

Eventually you two found yourselves bumping shoulders, leaning into one another.

"I should get going." You whispered. You were looking down at his hand which sat resting against your leg, rubbing soft circles against your knee. He was so gentle, which threw you for a loop considering the absolute asshole he could be at a moment's notice. But he had been nothing but sweet, and inviting.

“Why don’t you stay the night?” He asked, looking down at your face. Eddie was starting to feel something deep in his chest. The drinks and the drugs were long gone, replaced by something he felt was much stronger. He felt relaxed, which was hard to do in a house filled with 20 somethings that were up on drugs, drinks, and energy.

You returned the glance, smiling coyly. “You asking me to spend the night? Haven't even bought me dinner yet.” Your eyes traveled down to his lips, unable to resist the way they turned into a coy smile.

He laughed but it didn’t deter him. His hand moved past your knee, sliding his fingers gently across your thigh, your breath caught as his lips lingered closer to your neck, whispering, “I’ll do anything you want.”

Within a moment something changed, and eventually you and Eddie were tripping over the solo cups and discarded decorations, forcing your way into any room that was yet to be occupied until you eventually found one. It was quiet and in an area in the far back of the house that you were sure that no one wouldn’t stumble upon you two.

You pulled away for a moment catching your breath as Eddie leaned his head next to you on the door. He stared down at you, his eyes tracing over your lips, down to your neck. His fingers run softly against your sides, toying with the hem of your shirt until his fingers hooked themselves in your jeans loops, pulling you closer to him.

“You're so pretty sweetheart.” He mumbled.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . . :☆ﾟ. ─── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . . :☆ﾟ. ───

The next morning came bright and loud, with the banging of pans and drums. You shifted, letting out a low groan at the disturbances, rolling over until you stopped, feeling the chest of a warm body next to your own.

Your eyes shot open to find a sleeping Eddie, resting gently against the pillow, hair a mess and covering his face in a way that just perfectly captured his jaw and eyes. You couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment, the way that his eyebrow was frozen in a pointed way that made you question if he was actually sleeping or anticipating your next move. His lips parted slightly, and a soft beauty mark rested just above it.

A knock at the door brought you back to your senses, someone calling to Eddie that he had to get up for a meeting in the city. You took that as your cue, collecting your garments from the floor, redressing yourself as quietly as you could.

Or you thought, until you felt two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, then a scruffy face leaning against your shoulder.

“Good morning sweetheart. Did you sleep well?” He asks, his morning voice making you smile. He lays a soft kiss against your shoulder, sending chills down your body. You almost want to try to encourage a part two of the night before but elect to take your leave, not wanting to be the kind that tries to hang out after what could be seen as a one night stand.

“I’ve gotta head out. I’m sure I’ve missed a few calls by now.” You turn, facing him. He looks even better awake, staring back at you with a soft pout. You lean down, tracing his jawline with your fingers, pulling him in for a soft kiss.

You smile, whispering a small, “Bye Eddie.”

You stand, ready to do a walk of shame through the house, until his fingers wrap around your wrist, gently.

“Wait” He says, “I’ll walk you out.”

Eddies gets dressed, then the two of you walk out of his room, to the front door. There’s a few people scattered around the living room. The two girls smile, giving you a wave that you return. Eddie opens the front door, arm wrapped loosely around your waist.

Your turn to face him, smiling as you try to find the right words to say.

But he speaks first. “Please tell me I can see you again.” He says. It's almost a question, almost a soft begging from him.

“Don’t worry, I think you will.” You giggle, grabbing your bag strap nervously.

“Could I take you out to dinner?” He smiles, lifting his eyebrow, meeting your eyes with his soft brown ones.

You roll your eyes, grabbing the collar of his shirt, pulling him into another much more chaste kiss. You pull away, hand resting against his chest.

“Is that answer enough?” He nods, a dumbfounded look on his face. “Eddie, relax, I can feel your heart beating.”

[songbirdseung]

English / en- all members

Heeseung

It was another busy day for Enhypen, and today, you, the eighth member known for your fluent English, were joining the group for a special En O'Clock video. The members had decided to film a fun Q&A session with the fans, and you were more than happy to participate.

As the cameras started rolling, the members introduced themselves, and Heeseung couldn't help but turn to you with a grin. "Hey, Y/N, how about we do this in English? It'll be a great opportunity for me to practice."

You nodded enthusiastically, appreciating Heeseung's determination to improve his English. "Sure, Heeseung. Let's do it!"

Throughout the video, you and Heeseung conversed in English, answering fan questions and sharing stories in the language you both were comfortable with. Heeseung occasionally asked for translations or explanations, and you were more than happy to help him out.

The fans who watched the video later were thrilled to see Heeseung and you interacting in English. They found the dynamic between the two of you charming and endearing. Comments began to flood the video:

"Heeseung and Y/N's English conversation is the highlight!"

"They look like they've been friends for ages!"

"I love how Heeseung is so eager to learn from Y/N!"

The fans couldn't get enough of your bond and the way Heeseung's determination to improve his English led to heartwarming moments in the video. Your friendship and willingness to help one another out were truly touching.

After the video was posted, it became a fan favorite, and the interactions between you and Heeseung in English were replayed and celebrated by fans around the world.

Jay

You, along with Jake and Jay, were guests on DIVE studios for an interview with Eric Nam, a momentous occasion for Enhypen as you discussed your journey and experiences. The atmosphere in the studio was lively, filled with laughter as the interview progressed.

As the conversation flowed, Eric turned to Jay with a smile. "Jay, I remember you mentioned once that you were nervous about coming on the show because of your English. How are you feeling now?"

Jay nodded, his eyes reflecting a newfound confidence. "Yeah, Eric, I was pretty nervous initially. I haven't got to speak english often when I first came to korea, and I wanted to make sure I did a good job representing Enhypen."

You couldn't help but admire Jay's determination to improve and maintain his English. He had worked hard to communicate effectively, and it had shown in his progress.

Jay continued, "But you know what, Eric? I no longer feel that nervousness or shyness when speaking English because I have Y/N here. She's been an amazing friend and helps me keep my vocabulary and accent top-notch."

You smiled warmly at Jay's words, appreciating his kind acknowledgment. "It's been a pleasure helping Jay improve his English. He's a quick learner and an excellent student."

Jake chimed in, adding his own praise. "Jay's come a long way. Y/N's been an incredible mentor."

Eric nodded, impressed by the camaraderie within the group. "That's great to hear, Jay. It's clear that you've put in a lot of effort, and it's paying off. Y/N, thank you for being such a supportive friend and mentor."

As the interview continued, it was evident that Jay's confidence had soared when it came to English communication, and it was heartwarming to see the bond of friendship and support within Enhypen.

Jake

Enhypen found themselves in the United States for a high-profile interview, and as always, you and Jake were designated as the translators and interpreters to ensure smooth communication between the members and the interviewer.

The interview was going well, with questions and answers flowing seamlessly thanks to your and Jake's diligent efforts. However, the interviewer couldn't help but notice the unique chemistry between you and Jake, who were both fluent in English.

With a playful twinkle in their eye, the interviewer remarked, "You two make such a cute translating duo. It's like you have your own secret language."

Jake chuckled and exchanged a knowing look with you. "We do have our own telepathic connection when it comes to translating."

The rest of the members couldn't resist joining in on the teasing. Heeseung playfully nudged Jake. "Yeah, it's like they're reading each other's minds."

Sunghoon chimed in, "If we ever get lost in translation, we know who to call."

Jay nodded enthusiastically. "Y/N and Jake, the ultimate translating dream team!"

The banter continued as you and Jake translated with ease, keeping the atmosphere light and enjoyable. The interviewer couldn't help but smile at the camaraderie within the group.

As the interview progressed, it was clear that the chemistry between you and Jake extended beyond translating. Your strong bond and ability to work seamlessly together had become an integral part of Enhypen's success, and it was something that fans and interviewers alike admired and appreciated.

Sunghoon

Sunghoon had decided to go live on Weverse, eager to connect with fans and share a glimpse of his day. As he interacted with viewers, he noticed a comment that said, "Sunghoon, please speak in English!" With a grin, he immediately switched to English, the way he usually did it—broken English with his Korean accent.

"Hello everyone! How are you today? I'm fine, thank you!" he said with a playful wink, trying his best to convey his thoughts in English.

The comment section lit up with excitement, fans appreciating Sunghoon's effort to speak the language. But just as Sunghoon finished his brief English session, his phone rang, displaying Y/N's name on the screen.

Curious, he put her on speakerphone. "Hey, Y/N, I'm live on Weverse right now!"

Y/N's voice came through clearly, and the fans could hear her teasing tone. "Sunghoon, what was that English? You know I didn't teach you like that. You can do better!"

Sunghoon laughed, clearly unfazed by her gentle scolding. "I know, I know, Y/N. But it's fun to speak like this sometimes!"

Y/N chuckled in response. "Alright, alright, if you say so. But next time, we'll have a proper English lesson, okay?"

Sunghoon agreed with a smile. "Deal."

Before long, Y/N decided to join Sunghoon in his room, and she greeted the fans with a warm smile. "Hey, everyone! I heard Sunghoon was trying to impress you with his English."

The fans were delighted to see Y/N joining the live stream. The two of you had a unique bond and always brought a sense of fun to any situation.

As the live stream continued, you and Sunghoon chatted with fans, answered questions, and shared stories. Sunghoon's English improved under your guidance, and the fans got a special treat by witnessing the friendship duo of Sunghoon and Y/N.

The live stream became a memorable moment for fans, as they appreciated the lighthearted and genuine interaction between you and Sunghoon.

Sunoo

Sunoo had been bugging you, Y/N, for weeks about teaching him English. Despite the group's busy schedule, he seemed determined to improve his language skills. One day, he approached you again, his puppy-dog eyes pleading. "Y/n, please, just a little English lesson. You're my favorite teacher!"

You let out a playful whine. "Sunoo, we're so busy right now, and Jake is a great English teacher too. Why don't you ask him?"

But Sunoo was persistent. "Y/n, you're my favorite. Please, just a few phrases?"

You couldn't resist his enthusiasm and finally agreed to give him a quick lesson. As you began, you teased, "Sunoo, I hope you're not favoring me over your real sister when it comes to favorites."

Sunoo laughed, "Y/n, you're my English speaking sister, and she's my real sister. I can have both, right?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his response, and you continued with the lesson. Over the next few months, you dedicated some of your free time to helping Sunoo improve his English, all the while he playfully referred to you as his "English sis."

Months later, during an interview, the interviewer praised Sunoo's improved English skills, saying, "Sunoo, your English has really improved since the last time we met. How did you manage that with your busy schedule?"

Sunoo smiled, giving a knowing glance to you. "Well, I have a fantastic sister who's been helping me out a lot. She's the best!"

The interviewer and fans alike couldn't help but appreciate Sunoo's dedication to improving his English, and the playful bond he shared with you was evident for all to see.

Jungwon

Jungwon and you, Y/N, found yourselves on a popular variety show, ready to showcase your personalities and talents to a wide audience. As the filming progressed, the MC directed a question to Jungwon, asking if he had picked up any habits from you during your time together in Enhypen.

Jungwon smiled and nodded. "Yes, I've definitely learned a lot from Y/N. One thing I've improved on is my English. Y/N has been a great teacher in that regard."

The MC, intrigued, decided to dig deeper. "That's great to hear, Jungwon. Can you share a word or phrase that Y/N uses a lot in English?"

Jungwon's eyes widened slightly, and he shifted in his seat, feeling a tad nervous. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to answer honestly but with a hint of shyness. "Well, Y/N does use some… colorful language. So, I've learned a few words in that department."

The audience burst into laughter at Jungwon's unexpected response, and the MC couldn't help but chuckle. "Ah, I see! So, colorful language, huh?"

Little did Jungwon know that this moment would become a meme and an inside joke among fans and the group. The fans adored the candid and humorous exchange, and soon, clips of Jungwon's confession were circulating online with captions like, "Jungwon's Y/N English School" and "Y/N's Colorful Language Academy."

It became a playful running gag within the fandom, and even the other members of Enhypen would occasionally tease Jungwon about his "colorful language" lessons from Y/N.

Ni-Ki

Late at night, in your shared room at the dorm, you and Ni-Ki were engaged in a quiet and focused study session. You had both decided that it was the perfect time to learn each other's first languages to improve your communication skills and bond even more as roommates and friends.

Y/N: "Ni-Ki, 今日は何をしたかったですか？" (What did you want to do today?)

Ni-Ki: "I wanted to practice dance and listen to music. Did I say it right?"

Y/N: "Yes, that was good! You're getting the hang of it."

Ni-Ki: "Great! Now, your turn. What do you want to do today?"

Y/N: "I want to learn more Japanese and try cooking a Japanese dish. 日本の料理を作ってみたいです。" (I want to try cooking a Japanese dish.)

Ni-Ki: "That sounds fun! Your Japanese is improving too. Let's do it together."

You continued the study session, asking questions in Japanese and having Ni-Ki respond in English. You corrected each other's mistakes, patiently helping one another improve your language skills. The quiet room was filled with the sounds of your laughter and encouragement as you embarked on this language learning journey together.

As you studied and bonded, you both knew that not only were you improving your language skills, but you were also deepening your friendship.

[tsbs-ship-hate-confessions]

Honest to God there is nothing more hypocritical of a bunch of whiny proshippers complaining about hate

yet preach free speech as long as they get to jerk off to kids getting fucked by their parents.

The hypocrisy is appalling.

'oh oh proshipping doesn't mean that stuff anymore, we're Clearly anti censorship oh oh the horrors of being called a creep for making celestialcest smut and giggling about siblings diddling each other. but we totally don't glorify dark topics why would you say such a thing'

like pick a fucking struggle. deal with the consequences of your actions. None of this is okay.

And mind you, this is coming from someone who is a major proponent of dark fiction. people should get to write whatever fucked up shit they want to. coping, venting, idc the reason

but you cannot honest to God be stupid enough to assume you're not a walking red flag. No one owes you trust that you're 'doing it for the right reasons' or 'don't support the morally stripped content' just like how you don't have to owe anyone an explanation. That street goes both ways

It's even stupider, when these fucks are all like 'u should clearly know I don't condone this'. I'm sorry, are we all a hivemind now? Are we above communication? It literally cost nothing to add a note of 'hey btw I think this shit isn't okay in case you can't read the room'. if ppl decide to assume bad faith after that then that's on them. but being a fucking mule about it? really? thought we were supposed to be adults here

speaking of which

"Children shouldn't be reading this anyway, My audience is smarter than that" ok thanks for infatizing and being ablest. nothing says fun like attempting to grow and try new things regardless of learning disabilities. or do you think we all roll over and die before highschool?

Also are we gonna brush past the part where the sun and moon show is literally made with kids in mind? Why again are we so desperate for smut over a show literally built around found family? 'everyone here is so immature' yeah bud, it takes one to know one. we were all kids. all of us were the newbies of the internet at one point. I ain't saying ya gotta hold anyone's hand or babysit but is throwing a hissy fit over finding spiders in a jar labeled spider the hill you really wanna die on? if you don't like it, leave

you literally preach that same shit yet seldomly follow your own advice.

Actually, let's go a step further: you're not welcomed here anymore than the gore anons are

P.S.

The reason why murder and gore is more acceptable than pedophilia smut is because one of these attracts actual predators. Porn is still porn at the end of the day, whether it's video or a picture, or words. and if it's on a screen it will fuck your head up the same way you can't have just one cigaret. it's always 'one more can't hurt' until it's an addiction you cannot escape from. And once someone is in that cycle, it gets worse. because soon the same thing that got rocks off doesn't work anymore. so then you find something stronger to get that high. then you have to find another stronger way to get that same effect

And that is exactly how convicted pedophiles go from using fictional kiddy porn to actual csem. There is actual fucking evidence for this shit with neurobiology and psychology to back it up

TL;DR violent video games don't create serial killers because people can only have a dopamine addiction. video game addiction is like sugar addiction Porn however can most definitely create pedophiles and rapist because of the involvement of dopamine, oxytocin, norepinephrine, vasopressin. porn addiction is like meth or heroin

These 2 are Not remotely comparable to the other 2

ALL, actions have consequences. It does not matter if you are a celebrity, or a fic author with 3 views. You are not an exception, and you feed the machine that gets kids groomed, trafficked, and even killed when you choose to sexualize and normalize pedophilia and incest.

So if you're getting shamed for getting giddy over shipping shit like Killcode and Bloodmoon or Sun and Dazzle. maybe you should think long and hard about why that is.

This is so much bigger than fighting over 'making dolls kiss'.

Get the fuck out of a fandom filled with kids before you get someone hurt

-

[enby-chaos]

"The Unforseen Consequences of Resurrection"

Characters: Wilbur, Phil Word Count: 1,648

Written for @blazingstarininkyblackness for @mcytblrholidayexchange

No one warned him that revival would be painful. Though, that would have depended on someone who had been revived before to warn him. 

He hadn’t seen anyone else since it happened. Their fearful and shocked faces continued to stare at him in his mind from the manic glee he had felt. He will admit, he did get a bit carried away, but he hadn’t felt the sun in years. 

But now that glee had melted away, and had been replaced with pain. 

Wilbur wasn’t entirely sure where he was going yet, walking down the Prime Path with an aimlessness he had never felt before. It was still early enough in the morning that the roads were empty. It was just him, and the bright warm world before him. If his knees didn’t ache, he would have jumped for joy, run around and foll in the grass, breathe in the fresh air again after so long in that godsdamned train station. 

He saw the ruins of the Community House ahead, and the lake the surrounded it. That’s when he noticed the dryness of his throat. He ran for the water, kneeling at the shore to scoop a handful in his mouth. In the back of his mind, Wilbur remembered something about still water and rivers being dangerous to drink, but he didn’t particularly care at that moment. He needed water. 

He hadn’t felt relief in a long time, but quenching his thirst was the first step of many. He felt his stomach growl, empty since the moment he died, he was starved as well as parched. 

Wilbur tried stretching his wings as he stood, wincing at the stiffness. Something popped behind him, a small crack, then his left wing stretched a lot more easily. He tried doing the same to the right, rolling the joint this way and that to try and loosen it up, but to no avail. He gave up after that. 

His stomach, and his bones, continued to ache as he kept walking along the path, searching for someplace to find food. He’ll probably end up stealing from someone’s kitchen, he thought as he walked towards the castle.  

The effects death has on the human, and hybrid, bodies are well researched. The muscles of the body will relax, the skin will pale, and body temperature will cool down to room temperature. All organs and liquids within the body will sink with gravity to the lowest point possible. Rigor mortis, stiffness in the muscles, will set in mere hours after death and slowly reverse over two days.  Less researched are the effects of revival. With revival being a new and unknown concept, most do not know the inner workings. Most people, understandably, assume that the revived individual would feel perfectly fine, since the act of resurrection is a magical one. They couldn’t be more wrong. Revival cannot simply reverse the effects after death, it does not reverse time.  It is a wonder that Wilbur could walk at all, given how nine months of being laid to rest would have left his muscles atrophied beyond function. His complexion remains pale for the next few weeks, his circulatory system working to catch up while he recovers. He has almost zero body mass, most of his weight being what is left of his bones and muscles, with little to no fat. This is a man who should not be alive.  Dr. Ponk, MD, Essempi Institute of Medicine 

Phil found Wilbur standing outside the door to his cabin early after sunrise, his son shivering despite the layers he was clearly wearing. Wilbur looked a mess, hair clearly not brushed properly (though he can see an attempt was made), wings in disarray, and the aforementioned shivering despite the multiple coats he wore, a blue military jacket worn over a brown overcoat. He stood there in shock, never expecting to see his son standing before him again. 

He gave a crooked grin, not looking Phil in the eye, “I don’t have anywhere else to stay, do you have a couch?” 

Phil continued to stare, shocked, just managing to get out a “Yeah mate.” 

Wilbur was quick to move past him, talking as he dropped down onto the small couch, “Good, cause it’s fucking freezing out here- OW!, Phil, why does your couch sink so low?” 

“Because its old,” Phil said before he could think, closing the door and standing next to the couch, “How long have you been back?” 

“A couple of weeks,” He said nonchalantly, “I’ve been staying in that massive crater L’Manberg used to be, but I ran out of food and I needed a shower super badly-” 

Phil stopped paying attention to Wilbur’s rambling. No one had told him that Wilbur had been back for a couple of weeks already. Presumably, Wilbur hadn’t told anyone. Which, frustratingly was very in-character for Wilbur to not tell anyone about it. 

Meanwhile, Wilbur kept talking, “-also I’m pretty sure the explosion I caused was nowhere near that big, there’s no way eleven stacks of TNT could do that much damage I mean-” 

“It wasn’t.”  

Wilbur stopped mid-sentence, “... What?” 

“It wasn’t you,” Phil said, “It was Dream.” 

There was silence for a moment. Then Wilbur laughed. 

“Of fucking course it was Dream! He would never have been able to let it go! Oh there’s no way he would have been satisfied with just me doing it!” 

“Wil-” 

“Sure, I blew it up, but I didn’t want it gone-gone, yknow? Like I had a lot of thinking to do, and yeah sure being alone with my thoughts for years wasn’t healthy, but I gave it to Tommy, yknow? And then Tommy gave it to Tubbo but Tubbo was a good kid- 

“Wilbur!” 

Wilbur stopped. He had started fidgeting with the ends of his sleeves while he rambled, a nervous quirk from his childhood that never went away. He almost seemed to shrink in on himself, pulling his wings closer like a chick trying to hide. Phil almost missed the wince Wilbur made as he moved his wings. 

“Are you okay?” Phil asked. 

He made a face, “Am I, Phil? Was I ever okay?” 

Phil chose not to answer, climbing on to the couch next to Wilbur. His son seemed to shrink more as he got closer. 

“When’s the last time you preened your wings, mate?” 

Oh, um,” Wilbur looked embarrassed, “Before I died. I think.” 

“Well, they look like shit,” Phil said, “Sit down.” 

Wilbur hesitated, eyes darting between the space in front of Phil and the door. Phil knew he wouldn’t make a run for it, the snow was too heavy and the wind too strong, if he was shivering before there’s no telling how he would fare out there. Eventually, Wilbur slid down off the couch and shuffled in front of Phil. 

“Just, be careful.” He quietly asked. 

Phil sighed, “Of course I will.” He gently grabbed one of Wilbur’s wings, pulling it out from where it was tucked against him. 

Wilbur made a hiss of pain as the wing was stretched out, which made Phil instantly stop what he was doing. He certainly wasn’t pulling Wilbur’s wing with force, and a few years was nowhere near enough time for him to lose his skill. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Wilbur said, “I probably haven’t stretched it enough. Joints are a little rusty, yknow?” 

Phil was unconvinced, “Stand up for a moment.” 

“What? No, I'm perfectly fine, just keep going.” 

He rolled his eyes at his antics, standing up himself, “Just stand up.” 

“Okay” 

Wilbur stood up. His movement was stiff and tense, like he had been sitting in a contorted position for hours rather than on a couch for five minutes. He had one hand on the couch for support, and the other on his lower back. If he hadn’t looked no older than 25, Phil might’ve mistaken him for an old man. 

“There, happy now?” He looked grumpy, like it had been an inconvenience for him to stand up rather than stay sitting down on the floor.  

“Yes.” Phil said, “You’re acting off, and there’s something you’re not telling me, like before I found you in that room.” 

Wilbur, at the very least, had the decency to look guilty, “Did you really have to bring that up? Surely there are better ways to guilt me into telling you what you want to hear.” 

Phil stared at him, giving a half-hearted attempt at the disappointed-father-look. Judging by how Wilbur sighed, it somehow worked. 

“Fine, I’ve been in pain ever since I got back, is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“It's a start. Now sit back down so I can preen you.” 

“Oh, come on, I just stood up, I’m not sitting down again!” 

Arthritis, a common name for a variety of similar diseases, affects the joints of the body. Symptoms include pain, as well as reduced movement and stiffness, in joints.  It most notably appears with age, as patients get older the stress of day-to-day life on their joints takes its toll. Hybrids also appear to be more affected than standard humans, most likely due to the increased number of joints in most hybrids. Avian hybrids especially so.  Dr. Ponk, MD, Essempi Institute of Medicine 

Recovery is slow, and no one knew that more than Wilbur. 

Months later, he’s doing better, but he still gets pains. He has his bad days, sometimes his wings lock up and he cannot stretch them without pain. Sometimes he lies in his bed and doesn’t want to get out. 

But he has his good days too. 

Some days he can fly around without a care in the world. He'll regret it in the morning, but he enjoys the wind in his face and the sun on his skin after so many years in the dark. 

Maybe he can finally hope again. 

[polyhexian]

Darius frantically googling childcare tips in the runaway au, hoping to god that the Emperor's Coven isn't monitoring his scroll. how do you take care of a child? how do you reassure a child? how do you feed a - okay actually that one's easy, Hunter has his father's painfully simple taste in food, if his looks didn't make it obvious that he's Jasper's son the fact that he considers salt a spice would be proof enough.

Eberwolf is like, I can give you some tips but they're all gonna be based on raising ratworm litters and Darius is like STOP.

Hunter is probably kind of an easy kid to take care of in most respects, tho. like you said, he's had to become independent. self-sufficient. I feel like a lot of his childhood he was kinda like a fawn - like, a mother deer will leave her baby in a place she deems safe and hidden, and the fawn will lay there completely still for HOURS until mom gets back. Jasper's definitely had to do that with Hunter, except as Hunter has grown older Jasper has likely left him alone for longer periods of time, so Hunter gets to wander around a bit while waiting for his dad to get back. Swipe some food, maybe work some odd jobs for some snails, visit the library and see if he can finish a book before they have to move on again.

so he doesn't complain easily, and he doesn't really get bored the way a regular kid might, he's used to either sitting perfectly still or going off to find something to take up his time. he probably also gets more mileage out of entertainment items Darius gets for him. Darius is like "uhhhh I found some crappy crayons and some paper, sorry, best I can do on short notice" and Hunter is just like, oh, cool! cuz he's rarely had time/space/resources to sit down and color on paper.

Darius is still fumbling his way through this tho. one night he wakes up to find a sniffling Hunter climbing into bed with him and he starts to panic like OH GOD IS HE SICK I DON'T WANNA DO GERMS BUT I WILL IF I HAVE TO except no, the kid just misses his dad. Darius surreptitiously grabs his phone to type in "what to do when a kid crawls into bed with you crying" except to his everlasting horror he did NOT type that into Ghoul-gle, he typed it into a text message and now Eberwolf is responding like DARIUS ARE YOU SERIOUS and Darius is like I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO and Eber is like JUST HUG HIM THE WAY YOU'D NEVER HUG A BABY RATWORM.

Rjjsjsjd Darius trying to figure out how to care for this kid via eberwolf describing how to care for various baby animals

Yeah yeah yeah. Hunter is a baby faun. He's very good at hiding and he's very good at following instructions. Jasper has to weigh a lot of risks. Is it riskier to steal what he needs, or is it riskier to earn it by bounty hunting or selling something or what have you? And things just get riskier as Hunter gets older. Another timeline where jasper can't give hunter the childhood he wants him to have, but he's going to make sure he has one that he makes it out of, at least. He would rather have an unhappy adult than a dead child.

Hunter is a little fuckin monkey. He's always stealing shit. Just to prove he can. I love this little goblin version of hunter, a highly skilled little artful dodger.

When I was a teenager and my dad left it was pretty hard on my family. My brother has down's syndrome and autism; he's nonverbal, low-functioning, legally dead/blind. So he has a lot of trouble communicating effectively. He was like nine around this time and yeah, normal stuff was no problem. He knew how to let me know he was hungry or he needed me to come hit play on his DVD or something- assistive communication devices were and I think still are thousands of dollars lol and my folks and I were eating out of the food bank so. Yeah. Not happening.

In any case, the point is that one night my brother started crying. Like. Really crying. Crying in a way id never heard before. And obviously my mom came but I drove him to the hospital and we spent all night in the ER while he screamed and sobbed and they did test after test after test trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong.

Nothing was wrong. He was completely fine, physically. The end "diagnosis" was... Our dad had been gone three months and it was finally hitting him that he might not be coming back.

Just thinking about poor little hunter trying to cope with the idea his dad might not be coming back because he doesn't know where he is or what happened to him; he's just gone and it hurts! Reminded me of that night (can you believe I had to go to school the next day lol)

All Darius can do is hold this sobbing little guy and tell him that at least HE isn't going anywhere because... What else can he say? It's going to be okay? Jasper is going to be okay? Jasper will come back? He doesn't know that. He doesn't know any of that. All he can do is his own best. And hunter just :(

[seth-shitposts]

System ramblings below the cut ft the main trio

Sebastián💚 & Alice💖: *pokes at Lexie*

Lexie💙: *tired groaning muffled by a pillow*

Sebastián💚: buddy,, process your thoughts.

Alice💖: you've been warding this one off for like. Three weeks now.

Lexie💙: excuse me if I *still* haven't processed the last two existential crises I've had. I'm not ready to add a third onto that pile.

Alice💖: Yeah, so process it just a little. So it doesn't get thrown onto the unprocessed pile.

Sebastián💚: and you don't plan on touching either of the other two for awhile. Options are *low*

Lexie💙: uuuggggghhhhhhhhhhh.

Lexie💙: I think I might not be as male leaning gender identity wise as I thought. Or, at least, as I had been before I merged with Haimo sometime last year.

Seb💚&Alice💖: *nodding*

Lexie💙: I'm still not comfortable when strangers or people we aren't close to percieve me in a feminine way, and the masc perception is still a better lean in that aspect, but it's more of the enjoyment of masc/neutral than of man/male. I like to lean masc sometimes, but not be fully percieved as man. Bevause it's just as uncomfortable. And in that way, I do prefer to lean back towards feminine/neutral. I'm not quite comfortable with she/her, especially around strangers, unless they're queer or have a different understanding of gender culturally than how we grew up around. But I think I like being percieved as man even less.

Alice💖&Seb💚: *taking notes and making helpful color graphs*

Lexie💙: I'm still solidly gender in between, and I think I might have a Sapphic lean, but I'm not sure. I'm not even sure if I would classify for it.

Alice💖: well, from what you've described, you're a non man. And isn't that part of a basis of Sapphic? Non man & non man?

Lexie💙: I'm not sure. I don't really keep up with the community or the constantly shifting definitions. I can barely keep up with us and how each of us feel individually. And keeping up with myself is even harder.

Lexie💙: I wasn't even the one to realize when Shig and Haimo merged when Shig was healing himself.

Seb💚: don't be hard on yourself over that. It's for real a miracle that we can be aware of anything that goes on in this system. Since the way we found out was kind of by mistake. We don't have access to anything else. We've barely begun to make any type of progress in the like. What. Two and half to three years that we've been aware of the system?

Lexie💙: *tired muffled groan again* we don't have enough time for anything. We work seven days a week and most of our off hours are spent recovering so we don't burnout. But that doesn't leave us with much time to do the things we want to do, to fully & properly take care of ourselves, and to work on making progress on system things.

Lexie💙: and we've hanged the plans. Originally, we were just going to work these two jobs seven days a week until June and then get a different job in the town we're moving to with the friends once we get an apartment. But with what we're being paid, it would be more cost effective for us to keep the two jobs and get a vehicle that's more fuel efficient.

Lexie💙: but the prediction of us only being able to work the seven day week for six to seven months max is looking to ha e been correct. I can't tell if it's just the fact that we're on our cycle and have [undiagnosed] pcos or if burnout is just on the horizon, but I just hope whatever it is doesn't linger or weigh us down.

[canonically-a-genloser]

it used to go question and then answer (when we were younger and it was easy)

title from hello world by the front bottoms

Hadlee flopped down on the couch.

She didn't know why she couldn't stay home. Something about being around her adopted family felt like bringing back the dead.

And hell knew she'd seen enough of that for a lifetime.

That was how she found herself in the old, crowded house again. At midnight, there usually were only around two or three people in the living room anyway- especially depending on who was controlling the TV remote.

A few of the newest actors Hadlee had only ever written files about were asleep facing the television.

Randy, though fully awake in the chair opposite her, hadn't commented on her return.

"Beau told ya, didn't she?" Hadlee finally found herself asking, desperate for any kind of distraction. Communication. A lot of things she couldn't name.

"I guessed you would be back anyway," he admitted in return. "There's easier things than Showfall that you don't come away from the same."

Hadlee's mouth felt dry as she pulled her knees to her chest. "I should've been able to go back, all I did was sit at a desk-"

"Yeah. And write out serial numbers for dead people. For five years."

"Processing antemortem records, technically. And filing autopsy reports."

"That just sounds worse," he argued his point, staring at her with an unreadable expression. If the topic hadn't been so serious, Hadlee would've laughed.

After pausing to think for a moment as though following the current conversation to every possible outcome, she shrugged to dismiss it entirely and laid down on the couch. "Your boss is great, by the way."

A scoff resounded in the room, though apparently Randy decided to humor her after a moment.

"I know."

Another pause added a short lull to the conversation.

"I met Maria a little bit ago, too." Hadlee stared at the ceiling, imagining shapes in the pattern. "Small world."

It took Randy a second to process the full extent of that implication. He nodded with a noncommittal shrug.

"Think they need a babysitter?"

The older leaned back, his gaze following Hadlee's own to the ceiling. "There's practically a waiting list ready to babysit that girl at Maria's beck and call. I would guess no."

"Mm. Bummer," Hadlee said. "Ava's an okay kid."

Randy knew that.

Randy could remember, too, when Charlie had been as small as Ava was now. Sometimes the little girl's voice would almost bring him back to the day he'd met the nearly red-haired kid in the makeshift movie set cabin.

Sometimes he heard five-year-old Charlie laugh when he listened to her.

Sometimes he wanted to go back. Always, he knew it wasn't right.

Shaking his head to clear it, he realized Hadlee had turned around to face him. There was no pity in her gaze- just understanding. Probably more than Randy wanted to think about.

Without a word, she plucked the television remote off the coffee table that was barely even a coffee table anymore. The screen flicked to some nature documentary, and Randy couldn't help but instinctually relax a bit.

Nature documentaries were one of the few things that didn't feel horrifying to watch. There was no acting. No effects that could have been real. Just a voice reading nature facts, the animals, and greenery the likes of which no one in Showfall had seen since their introduction to the mall.

He'd never entirely expected to be appreciative of the genre, but he wouldn't be one to turn down the distraction it offered.

"Thanks," Hadlee finally said, staring with a cloudy expression at the wall beside Randy. "For letting me stay and everything. Helps being around people who get it."

Randy nodded. "Still thinking about Paislie."

It wasn't a question.

Hadlee's head tipped forward, coming to rest on her knees as her shoulders began to shake.

"I could've saved him."

I could've saved him.

That was what Randy had said to the doctors the night Charlie and Sneeg literally tore each other apart.

I could've saved him.

Henrik, lying in a puddle of his own blood with countless scars that he'd thought would be gone the next day.

I could've saved him.

He still thought it every time he saw Maria.

Randy didn't have the heart to deny the thought to Hadlee. If he did, she'd probably deflect it back onto him anyway. That was most definitely on the list of conversations Randy was not ready for.

Before he could make a move to try to offer comfort, she managed to pull herself together and shove her choppy black curls away from her forehead.

His own scattered thoughts latched onto the small but constant comfort Beau's family was.

"I bet the girls could use some help with everything tomorrow. Bringing dinner out here."

Hadlee looked up with a shaky grin. "Thought you said they're drowning in babysitting volunteers."

"Yeah, yeah, well." Randy held out a blanket for Hadlee to take. "If you'll be here tonight anyway. You know Beau likes your company."

The younger scoffed lightheartedly. "Probably not."

"I would know," Randy returned, moving a pillow on the couch beside Hadlee.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you took offense at that."

Randy scoffed in turn. "Alright, that's enough emotions for a week, and you look as tired as I feel. I'll drop you off in the morning and Beau can get you to college if you're feeling up for it."

Hadlee nodded, hesitating before offering one more quiet "thank you" that she wasn't even sure the other heard.

"There she is," Hadlee found herself saying the next morning as she scooped Ava into her arms and spun around with her. "Look at you, gettin' up early."

"Mama's still sleepin'," the curly-haired girl declared before climbing onto Hadlee's back.

Hadlee had, at some point that morning, decided to walk to Beau and Maria's place. There had been no point in calling for a ride or waking up anyone at the other house.

Another voice from the patio made Hadlee look up.

"Morning, Hadlee," Beau called to her. "I was just getting ready to start breakfast."

"I'll help," Hadlee said with a nod. "Brought some coffee."

Beau smiled. "You know us too well. Come on in, come on. Take off your coat and stay a while."

Hadlee shrugged her backpack off, handing Beau a cardboard takeout drink holder so she could turn her attention back to Ava.

"Are you goin' back to school?" Ava asked, pulling Hadlee's hair slightly as she pretended to put it into a ponytail.

"Probably," Hadlee grinned, playfully fluffing the five-year-old's curls.

"And I'm going to kindergarten."

Hadlee nodded. "You're getting so big already."

Beau offered Hadlee a quick but comforting hug before turning to peel Ava off Hadlee's back. "If you wanna get some of the waffles out of the freezer, I'll get this one ready for school."

"Can Hal go with us?"

"She's gonna stay home for a while. She'll be back with me to pick you up, remember?"

"Nah, it's fine," Hadlee said. "If there's room in the car, I can go."

Beau glanced over. "You're sure?"

"Unless it's a bother, I-"

"Oh, you know it isn't," the older cut Hadlee off. "You can take one of the sweatshirts in the entry closet, it's awfully cold to be wearing a t-shirt."

Hadlee shot her a grateful smile, though ultimately decided to at least start on breakfast first.

It hadn't been easy to find time to build up her wardrobe again. With her family's memories of her erased and everything she had before Showfall either distributed among her siblings or gone entirely, even the government funds were only going so far.

"You feeling okay to try going to classes again today?" Beau asked, breaking Hadlee out of her trance. Ava was nowhere to be seen, presumably picking out her own outfit for the day as many five-year-olds would insist on doing.

"Not sure yet," Hadlee admitted. "Might just go outside and watch them or something. I couldn't stay home last night, either. Left a note and slept at the other house."

A gentle hand moved to rub her shoulder. "You know you're welcome to the futon in my office, at least during the day. It's not the best, but it's comfortable enough to do classes in."

"Thank you," Hadlee murmured, not trusting her voice as emotion threatened to choke it out entirely.

Beau gently slid the toaster closer to herself. "It's nothing. I'll take care of this. Go get something warm on, okay?" She paused, waiting for a nod from Hadlee before continuing. "Maybe we should go out today instead. The professors won't give you trouble."

"I know," Hadlee said. "Maybe. Sounds nice."

Beau offered an encouraging smile. "Consider it done, then. Right after-"

As though on cue, Ava slkipped out into the kitchen, shirt inside out and shoes on the wrong feet.

"Want some help with those shoes, Ava?"

Hadlee laughed a little as the little girl firmly shook her head.

"Backwards Thursday it is," Beau confirmed.

Hadlee did find a blue jacket she liked, and breakfast continued with little else happening. Ava mostly continued her chatter, though neither of the adults there minded. By the time several recountings of jumbled antics from Ava's class had been described with exaggerated detail, the drive had been completed.

Beau's usual 'listen to your teachers, we'll be back in a few hours' talk followed, and Hadlee watched as Ava walked to the group gathered around her teacher.

"Thinking about going anywhere in particular?"

Hadlee looked over, hesitation flickering in her eyes. "Not- not really, I guess. Not yet. It's been a few years."

"That's fine."

"House first?"

"House first."

Hadlee had never regretted any two words more in her whole life.

"Hadlee, I need a phone now."

"What's wrong?"

"No questions, just hurry."

Hadlee was ready to panic. Beau's voice barely sounded like her. It wasn't her. The calm but firm woman Hadlee had begun leaning on was only scared now. No matter how much Hadlee didn't want to be, she was beginning to realize why.

"What happened?" Randy's voice cut through the fog in Hadlee's mind for a second, but it didn't last.

"It's Maria. Don't ask, I don't know any more than you do. Come on."

"I'm sorry, I should've stayed home, I'm sorry," Hadlee heard herself say without any idea who she was saying it to.

"Hadlee, I need you to tell me where they are." Randy again.

Hadlee could feel a strong, painful grip on her arms that nearly left her sobbing before she realized it was from her own hands.

"I don't know," she managed to say, fighting the shuddering feeling in her spine. "I promised Pey, he told me and I promised, I should've-"

"Hadlee, stop," Randy interrupted, and she could swear he was shaking as much as she was.

Her brain was repeating the same thoughts, how she could've stayed home and stopped Maria, how she could've saved Beau from this, how Randy was probably more scared than Hadlee herself was.

And yet she couldn't bring herself to say a word.

First Henrik, then Paislie, now Maria, just like the eighteen-year-old had guessed.

Hadlee didn't move from the waiting room floor.

Randy stayed by the door too, likely waiting for any news.

The silence was deafening.

It could've been seconds or hours later that Hadlee heard a voice she didn't recognize, hurried questions from Randy intermittently cutting in.

"-was three minutes ago."

"Is her wife still here?"

"We left her to process everything for a moment."

Silence returned, during which Hadlee made an effort to open her eyes even a little to see what was happening.

"We're going home."

Randy's expression sent a chill through Hadlee. She'd only ever seen him like this once before.

"Can I stay with Beau?"

The older looked as though he were gearing up to yell -or something, it was hard to tell anymore- before he sighed. A nod was the only gesture she was offered.

"I'll take the car home."

And just like that, Hadlee found herself alone in the waiting room.

Nurses walked back and forth, every once in a while glancing up at Hadlee as though they weren't sure whether or not to address her.

She felt just as lost as some of them looked when they sent millisecond-long looks in her direction.

Just hours before, she'd been thinking about college. Her family. Ava.

Ava.

That little girl's mom wasn't coming home.

Her mom wasn't coming home and she would have every right to blame it on Hadlee once she was old enough to know what happened.

Hadlee's brain felt clouded over, any sense of time gone.

"It's time to go."

That was Beau.

Her voice sounded different from how it had this morning. Expectedly so, not that that helped.

It was a different Hadlee had never thought she'd have to hear, she thought as least this family could be safe and happy.

It had been months and still the shadow of Showfall loomed over the whole family. That was the realization that made Hadlee want to scream until her voice gave out.

"Don't apologize, honey. We're going home."

Hadlee looked up. Had she said something? Fuck, existing had never hurt this much.

"Ava's with Niki and Cade tonight. They offered to take her until the house gets put back together."

"I'll drive," Hadlee offered suddenly, walking as close beside Beau as she could for what little comfort she hoped it was worth.

It was the least she could do at this point.

Beau didn't answer.

The only sounds on the way back to the house was the car engine and the barely audible sound of crying.

Fourteen hours after they'd left to follow Maria, Hadlee pulled Beau's car back into the driveway.

At some point during the night, Hadlee threw more waffles in the toaster. She knew neither of them were hungry, but eating would at least give both herself and Beau something constructive to do. Neither of them felt like sleeping. Or maybe they did and just refused to tell the other.

Either way, she was practically delirious with grief (defeat?) and confusion by the morning. Confusion, though, mostly for the sake of the fact that she hardly even knew Maria. Confusion because she felt like her emotions were already running dry.

It at least offered her the one small mercy of being able to hold herself together for the older woman's sake.

Without that, she was sure Beau's attempt to apologize would have sent her spiraling.

After that Hadlee had been sure things couldn't get worse.

She had been wrong.

The sun had only been up for a few hours when a knock on the door came. Hadlee's dampened hope that it would just be Niki or Charlie or anyone she knew was drowned out as her eyes met yet another unfamiliar face.

Hadlee could only listen, at a complete loss as the officer told her Randy didn't make it to the house.

He'd offered to show her and Beau pictures of the car.

The younger just shook her head.

No matter how hard Hadlee tried, there were no right choices she could make with the options given to her. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how Showfall must have felt for the ones who weren't lucky enough to just have a desk job.

Hadlee had left the house after the cop car did, promising Beau not to go farther than the woods behind her house, promising to come back.

Whatever domino effect had attached itself to Beau's family had come full circle in one last violent tragedy of circumstance.

Hadlee had made it through Showfall for five years. She'd made it back to her family, made it back to college. She'd thought the last survivors would have made it, too. She'd thought Beau's family would heal, as painfully slow as it was.

Now it was gone save for Ava, and Hadlee's own world had never felt closer to ending.

[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

Imagine instead of mc coming to the devildom it’s the Mario bros (I’m talking specifically the Mario and Luigi series Mario bros) and nobody understands them (the only way for them to know what they mean is by writing) yet strikes fear into all of them once they start attacking demons like it’s clock work. Just imaging 7 demons trying to handle two short Italian men who are insanely powerful yet look goofy as hell is a chaotic image I need.

(The more I think about it the more I want hcs….please :,( )

Anon my request are closed, but you are lucky that I think this would be funny as fuck also because you said Mario and Luigi series I choose partners in time because them getting beaten up by literal babies is even funnier, anyway hope you like it and it turned out how you wanted to

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucifer:

who are these people and why are they holding infants who look eerily similar to the adults holding them?

those are not the exchange student he cho- why are they spewing fire!? and where did they get those hammers from!?!? keep them away from Lord Diavolo!

he can´t even understand what they say it just sound like random voice lines

it took a while for them to even find a way to communicate

but after they found a way… I mean it cleared up some things but it just made more questions

and could they stop attacking Demons this won´t gi- where did they get those coins and why are they jumping into the air and cheering

did they say something about a stat increase????

what is even happening right now…?

Mammon:

he tried to scam them

his train of thought was they have a bunch of coins and don´t understand what he says

but it turns out they mistook him for an enemy and decided to attack

after this Mammon was terrified of them

they somehow managed to be scarier than Lucifer! and THIS says something

but he also tried to get a sample from a fire flower or similar items, he does not learn

but he also managed to befriend the babies because he just gave them candies and was nice to them

it did not take a lot to gain their trust, he also threatened to beat up Demons who wanted to attack them

Leviathan:

those guys look almost like the famous Demon Bros!

he somehow knows what they are saying? I guess that´s what you can learn if you play games for centuries

but sadly after seeing him in his Demon form they mistook him for a koopa

yeah… he was hiding in his room every time they were at the House of Lamentation

he still has to treat his burns…

he still watches them from afar because he thinks their attacks are cool

but he also saw them beat up multiple Demons with some weird spin attacks

Satan:

he was impressed by their strength

at first he thought they were filled with rage considering they immediately attacked and he could use them to attack Lucifer

but no they were just ridiculously strong guys who thought they would attack

not a bad first impression if you ask him

he actually couldn´t care less about them, as long as they leave him alone he will let them life

but he is a bit interested in their attacks and how those infants can fight

he also asked for some of their items because he was interested but it seems like they don´t have any effect on him

disappointing...

Asmodeus:

he doesn´t understand how they came here

but they aren´t interesting enough for him so he doesn´t care about them

he just acts like they don´t exist

the only reason he might show some interest in their existence is if they are immune to his charm

but yeah otherwise no interest in them at all

the only other thing I could think about is him criticizing their clothing style

Beelzebub:

he always wants to eat whatever type of itemes they have

he also tried eating them once and started a fight with Beel, but they actually got beaten up

luckily Lucifer was around and saved them

he did give the babies some snacks but he also tried to see if one of their attacks can be used in cooking

it can not and just made a massive mess

Lucifer was very pissed of at this but he got away with just cleaning up

but he did not learn his lesson and tried again

Belphegor:

listen everybody knows Belphie´s view on humans and they are even worse without Mc existing

we all know what he will try

I mean he will get beaten up and probably hate Humans even more than before

if he even sees them as Human at all

for all he knows they could be aliens but no matter what he will still try to trick them

good for them because it didn´t work

he also got beaten up by the baby bros

because he is definitely the type of person who would fight a child, if he isn´t to tired for it that is

[httpwintersoldier]

『 death of peace of mind | ch7 』

masterlist | previous ↢ seven ↣ next

𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊'𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖋 𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉 - a slow burn between a hate-filled person and a sorrow-filled soldier

“Yeah, I can. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

But that apparently didn’t include the following morning, as you woke up to an empty bed.

“Bucky?” You called out, hoping he’d be somewhere in your small apartment, but to no avail.

What you did find, however, was a bag with a sandwich inside and a cup of coffee beside it, still warm.

Bucky had gotten used to taking care of people from afar, watching them and noticing what they needed and helping them in small ways. He had been deprived of love, attention and affection for so long that now it was all a very strange feeling to him, and he didn’t know what to do when faced with it, he didn’t know how to react.

Comforting you was easy, Bucky was used to having to calm himself down, but he had no idea what your expectations were the next day: would you be freaked out? Would you feel embarrassed and want him to leave? Would you think him staying would be overstepping?

For someone that was seemingly calm and collected on the outside, someone so serious and that seemed to always know what he was doing, the soldier had a habit of overthinking and problematizing everything.

You were a little sad to find your house empty. You had always found your house to be a home: it brought you comfort and warmth, but for some reason ever since Bucky had left you felt a certain coldness, like something important was just taken from it.

Nevertheless, the small gesture of taking care of you by making sure you had breakfast made your heart beat faster, and you wondered if your view of Bucky was finally shifting.

“I’ll see him later today anyways…” You thought.

However, what you didn’t imagine was how… weird Bucky would act.

When the soldier entered, he greeted you with nothing but a nod, despite getting a wide smile and an excited hello from your part. That instantly clouded the sunshine and clear skies that seemingly had been hovering above you all day, but you pretended it didn’t affect you, God forbid you show that a man had some sort of effect on your mood.

You wondered if Bucky thought you had stepped over the line, taken advantage of his kindness and misinterpreted the amount of help he was willing to give you when he gave you his number.

But truth was that Bucky’s several decades of torture and the lack of socialization that followed consequently had completely changed the way he saw simple interactions, especially with people he cared for. The man was afraid of being too clingy, of being too cold. He was afraid of being too suffocating, of not caring enough. Bucky didn’t have a reference as to what a normal friendship was supposed to be like, the years with Steve seemingly being so far in the distance, nevermind what a relationship was supposed to be like, what it was supposed to feel like.

The soldier didn’t realize the feeling of his heart being gripped from the inside and the odd feeling spreading in his chest and stomach wasn’t panic and anxiety, but love and adoration. How could he? It had been about 70 years since he last felt those.

It didn’t help that he was very awkward in communication and understanding very obvious signals. The idea of telling you what he was feeling, how confused he was, how he didn’t know what it was… it was terrifying. He could deal with his own self-hate, but he couldn’t deal with your hate. The way you greeted the man should’ve been an obvious hint, but he missed that too.

It resulted in the most awkward day you had had in a while. It was even more awkward than the time he refused to talk to you from anger, because at least then you hadn’t slept in his arms the previous night.

The exchanges between you two that day were seldom, and the ones that did happen were short and dry, as you both fought to understand what the fuck was going on.

You had come to terms with the fact that you wanted him, that maybe perhaps you even liked him. And you thought he did too, Bucky didn’t seem like the type of guy to go around making our with women, so his behaviour was confusing.

Bucky, on the other hand, was just trying to understand what it all meant. The kiss, the trust you put in him, the comfort you seeked with him, the way he felt around you. To a normal person the answer was obvious – he was in love. But Bucky was not a normal person, and the way he had been treated, as well as his trust issues, stopped him from being able to put the pieces together.

By the end of the night you were holding back tears. Was he just using you? Did he just want to get in your pants and the kiss was so bad that he decided to back off then and there? Was the comfort and security you felt with him just a lie?

You were so entangled in your own thoughts that you didn’t even hear Bucky bid goodbye and leave the bar.

He wasn’t even taking you home that night…

You couldn’t stay there one more second, so you closed the bar earlier and practically ran home, full of tears and sniffles, not caring about the odd looks you got from everyone that passed you.

Bucky watched from afar (obviously), as he vouched to himself he’d never let you walk home alone again, and he furrowed his eyebrows. You had seemed fine at the bar, had something happened in the short period of time between him leaving and you leaving?...

The soldier checked the time and tilted his head, you had closed a lot earlier than usual.

He didn’t want you to think he was stalking you and the man wanted to give you space, but his gut feeling didn’t let him, and before he could stop himself, he was across the street grabbing your arm.

Out of habit, you spun around and slapped the unknown person across the face.

Bucky’s jaw tensed, and only after your eyes adjusted did you recognize the man’s face lit by the moonlight.

“What are you doing? I don’t want to see you.” You said with a monotone voice, before turning back around and resuming your walk home in a faster pace.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Bucky asked, catching up to your pace, his face painted with worry that made you wonder if it was even genuine.

His question was meant with cold silence from you.

“Y/N, please, did anything-“

SMACK

Before he could finish the question, you delivered another slap to his face, this time on purpose.

“What the fuck was that for!?” Bucky asked, irritated since your slaps were quite aggressive.

“You give me your fucking number, you walk me home every night, you stay in my bar from open to close, you comfort me, make out with me, spend the night, leave me breakfast and then the next day you pretend like I’m just a barmaid!? Like you don’t even know me!?”

Bucky opened his mouth to speak but he didn’t get to say much before you continued your speech, your index finger pushing back against his chest and tears welling up in your eyes.

“Don’t. Come. Near. Me. Again! I fucking hate you! You fucking asshole! Was this the plan? To make me like you so you could what? Break my heart? Toy around with me!?”

The question was rhetorical, as when Bucky tried to answer, he was simply met with a loud “Leave!” from you, and he obeyed your wishes. He wanted to stay, the soldier wanted to hug you, hold you close and tell you that he liked you, no, he loved you. But he couldn’t. He physically couldn’t, no matter how much his heart and brain both yelled “Do it you fucking idiot!”, he was afraid.

So he just left, watching as you entered your building, his heart aching just as much as yours, as he tried to figure out how to fix himself for you.

[TAGS]

@kandis-mom ; @ashovertheriver ; @browneyedgirl22 ; @verygraphicink